#yeah sorry for this rambling but I had to get it out and I can tell no one else

[stevesgother]

https://www.tumblr.com/stevesgother/780437608598732800/httpswwwtumblrcomslutforpumpkins780377308353?source=share

this is me officially requesting this! imagine steve going to get abby to meet the new baby he’d be so gentle with her 🥺

oh anon i've been thinking about this since i saw you asked it, TEHE chalkboard hearts series masterlist steve harrington x fem!reader cw: depictions of labor & delivery, language, non-sexual nudity, pregnancy, fluids

"Steeeeeeve!" Abbey shouts sing-songily from the bathroom, "Mommy peed her pants!"

Steve's alarmed initially, though after everything you'd endured during this pregnancy, he wouldn't exactly be surprised if you had. His concern slowly morphs into puzzlement as he speed-walks towards the bathroom.

"I did not--ahh!" You wince at the sharp jolt of pain radiating just below your navel, "My water broke,"

"You what?" The blood drains from Steve's face so quickly that he feels light-headed. You feel mildly annoyed at his dramatics before remembering he's never had a baby before.

"It's not a big deal yet, we just need to call the doctor," You reassure your paler-than-a-ghost husband. He's taken a wide-legged stance in the bathroom doorway, his hands uselessly stiff at his sides.

"Does this mean the baby is coming?" Abbey, the least bothered of all of you, asks in a tone that's almost bored.

"Soon, babe, but not right this second," the feeling of amniotic fluid sticking to your sleepshirt and legs is frankly disgusting, "Steve, dear, could you please grab me a change of clothes," you ask through slightly gritted teeth. You don't mean to be frustrated with him, but you're wet and sticky and in a steadily increasing amount of pain.

"Yes-- yeah, of course. Just stay there--"

As if you had some sort of escape plan. You could barely waddle; your ankles were so swollen.

"Abbey, do you think you can pick out your own outfit for school today?"

Her lips twitch with an impending frown, "I thought I was gonna come to the hospital with you and Steve..."

"You'll come to the hospital after the baby's born. The waiting part is boring," you make a bleh face to really sell it. If only it really was as 'boring' as you're making it out to be.

Steve returns with your comfiest pair of lounge clothes, and any aggravation you might've felt dissipates instantaneously, replacing itself with a fond gratitude.

"C'mon, Ab, let's go get dressed, huh?" Steve asks a still skeptical Abbey, "I bet you can't beat me to your room..."

She's up in an instant, "Nuh-uh!"

"Three, two, one...go!" Steve counts and gives a false start. Abbey races out of the bathroom and down the hall, paying no mind that he's not hot on her tail. He almost feels guilty for tricking her.

"Where's the number for the OB?" He asks once you're finally left alone.

"It's-- mphh-- it's on the fridge, the paper under the dolphin magnet."

"Okay," he says, already turning on his heel.

"Steve, wait-- she's going to ask how far apart my contractions are, tell her nine minutes."

"Is that bad?"

"Steve."

"Right-- sorry. Be right back. Love you."

'Five minutes apart-- that's when you should head to the hospital.'

The advice of your obstetrician echos in your ears. You have time. You still have time. From the kitchen, you can hear Steve rambling to Doctor Sara over the landline, 'Okay...right...yes, we do...okay...see you soon...'

You grab a bath towel to attempt at soaking up the mess you've made all over the bathroom floor. If only you'd been on the toilet, or hell, even the shower would've been acceptable. You squat at a snail's pace, sucking in a harsh breath as you do. It feels more like an unpleasant pressure right now than true pain, but you're uncomfortable regardless.

"Hey--woah there hotshot," Steve admonishes when he returns and sees you doubled over and wiping the floor, "What are you doing?"

"Cleaning up my gross baby fluid so we don't get water damage?"

"Are you crazy?" He asks as he pulls you by the elbows to stand and ushers you to the bed, "Go sit down, would you? Jesus..."

You crack a subtle, shit-eating grin with your back turned to him. It's fun to raise his blood pressure a little sometimes-- keeps him quick on his feet.

The bed does feel heavenly once you're laying down though, all that pressure off your back. You try to stay cognizant of the speed at which your contractions are coming, but the duvet is so soft. And you've barely slept the last four nights. And your fan is humming a blissful white noise right by your ear. And--

"Mommy?"

Shit.

"Mommyyyyy?" Abbey shakes your shoulders lightly, "I wanna give you a kiss goodbye!"

"Okay," you grunt, "I'm up."

Abbey's little lips plant a kiss to your cheek, her arms wrapping around your swollen belly, "Will I be able to see the baby when I get out of school?"

God, you think, I hope so.

"Mhm, grandma will bring you right from school, okay?"

She bounces on her heels with an excited giggle in one of her adorable, albeit rare displays of affection for her soon-to-be sibling.

"See you later, love bug. Be good for your teachers today."

"I will!" She calls on her way out. Steve had been perched behind her throughout your exchange, waiting to give you a kiss of his own, "I'll be quick. Don't give birth while I'm gone, please?"

"I will try my very best." You smile wearily up at him from your place resting drearily against your pillows.

--

Steve walks with an arm protectively wrapped around your waist and your bag thrown over his shoulder as you waddle toward the non-emergency entrance to the hospital, "You got your heating pad?"

"Yep,"

"Okay," he snaps his fingers like he's trying to recall something, "Oh-- what about the swaddle thing?"

"Got that, too." You swallow a groan.

"And the adult diapers--"

You clear your throat abruptly, "It's a little late to be asking about all this now, isn't it?"

Steve makes a face as if to say 'touché'.

The glass doors slide open, immediately washing you in a sterile scent; but at least it's cooler inside the lobby. The air conditioning dries the beads of labored sweat beginning to form on your hairline.

"Last name is Harrington," Steve says as he approaches the front desk where a receptionist no older than twenty-three smacks her gum and flips through a magazine, "My wife is in labor; we see Doctor Sara?"

"A nurse will be out for you shortly." The receptionist tells you flatly, barely sparing you a glance.

A particularly sharp contraction ripples through your abdomen and you hiss, clutching your swollen belly. Your hand grips Steve's shoulder where you're using him to balance, your knuckles turning a pale white.

"How 'shortly'?" Steve presses, a tad frustratedly. Rarely do you see him this high strung, but even still, he has the patience of a saint.

"Harrington?" A short, stubby nurse calls from the triage doors, clipboard in hand. The receptionist only nods her head in the direction the voice came from before resuming her browsing of the latest Cosmo issue.

The nurse brought a wheelchair, thank God. Steve drops your duffle in an instant to help you lower into it, insistent on pushing it despite the woman assuring him that it's really no trouble. He reluctantly picks up your bag, settling on holding your hand instead.

--

Maybe you simply don't remember Abbey's birth, but you really don't recall it being this harrowing.

You've tried everything: bouncing on a yoga ball, taking laps around the hospital, a hot bath. Doctor Sara had administered Pitocin over two hours ago to try and stimulate contractions and therefore dilation. Nada.

You were back on the yoga ball now, head resting exhaustedly on Steve's shoulder. Despite how uncomfortable the crouching position must've been for him, he hadn't made a single complaint since you'd arrived. Doctor Sara emerged through your suite's door for what felt like the fiftieth time this evening.

"Alright, girlfriend," she only called you this when she had unsavory news, "I don't mean to alarm you, but baby's vitals are beginning to look abnormal." You felt your heart kick behind your ribs, "I know I'm not the first to tell you that this labor isn't progressing normally-- that being said, I'm officially suggesting we proceed with a c-section."

"No--"

"Sweetheart--" Steve attempts to reason, but it's futile.

"I had Abbey naturally, I want to have this baby the same way."

Steve's eyebrows furrow when he looks at you, turning to the hospital staff, he says, "Can you just... give us a moment?"

"Of course," Doctor Sara said, "I'll stop back in ten."

He nods in acknowledgement, an expression of gratitude on his face, as the rest of the nurses funnel out of the room. "I know this isn't how you pictured it--"

"Steve." You had blown past your limit hours ago. Anything he said to you at this point would be closely akin to poking a scared, incredibly bloated bear.

"Listen to me," he says, firm but not unkind, "We've waited hours. And if the baby's health wasn't in jeopardy, I would sit here with you for another six of them."

"I'm scared, Steve." Your voice wobbles, resigning to the reality of your current situation.

He brushes his knuckles across the damp expanse of your forehead, "I know, honey. I know."

--

You can't feel a thing from your chest down, but you can practically hear the blood rushing through your vascular system. White florescent lights buzz above your head. They make your eyes feel exceptionally heavy.

"You still with me?" Your husband asks where he's perched on a stool next to your head, holding your hand in a tight, reassuring grip. He squeezes twice; you nod. He'd been reading you the second Lord of the Rings book for some entertainment as well as a distraction. Admittedly not your first choice for literature, but you love him, so you let him continue.

"Almost there, baby. Then we'll get to meet our girl." He'd take the liberty of kissing your forehead if there weren't a KN95 mask covering the large majority of his face. For that matter, Steve was almost entirely covered in hospital PPE.

Your view of the gory scene you know is taking place just below your breasts is obstructed by a huge expanse of blue linen. Having lost track of time by now, you could've been laying there for another five minutes or another five hours.

That train of thought is abruptly interrupted by the shrill cry of an infant. Your infant.

"Congratulations," Doctor Sara says as she comes into view with the squirming baby in her arms-- she's holding it like a footlong sub, you think, against your better judgement. "You've got yourselves a healthy baby boy!"

"What?"

It takes every cell in your body not to laugh at the deer-in-headlights expression contorting Steve's features. 'Call it father's intuition,' his ass.

Every excruciating hour of labor, every bout of nausea, every mood swing, every sleepless night; it all felt worth it when they place your son on your bare chest.

--

"He's so tiny," Steve observes later that night as he cradles your boy to his chest. You watch from your place on the uncomfortably firm hospital bed, "What if I-- I don't know-- what if I drop him? Or something?"

"Steve," you giggle, despite the soreness of the healing incision on your stomach, "Don't say that. You're not going to drop him."

He's silent for a long, long moment, "What do we do now?"

Isn't that the question of the century?

"Well, we have to name him. For starters."

"Yeah, there's that." He ponders for a minute, "How about Gabe?"

"Ugh, no. I dated a kid in high school named Gabe," your face sours at the memory, "I was thinking... maybe Michael?"

"That's my dad's name." Steve deadpans.

"Oh, shit-- that's right."

Knock Knock.

Your mother's face peers around the slightly ajar door before pushing it open the rest of the way, letting herself and a bright-eyed Abbey into the room. For the first time maybe ever, your daughter doesn't barrel into the room like a bull in a China shop. She takes quiet, deliberate steps towards you, Steve and her baby brother.

Her hands twitch at her sides when she approaches Steve, like she itches to touch his little button nose or have him wrap his tiny hand around one of her fingers.

"Ab, this is your little brother." Steve tells her in a whisper.

"Can I hold him?"

"For sure-- go sit with mom and I'll give him to you,"

Abbey climbs cautiously into bed next to you, taking extra care not to shuffle you around too much. You would've started having babies a long time ago if it meant your daughter being this calm. You wrap an arm around her shoulders and press a kiss to her temple. Oh, how you missed her while you were away.

Abbey, seemingly also wanting to know, asks, "What's his name?"

"We're not sure yet," you tell her as Steve gently sets her brother in her arms; she cradles him like he's the most precious baby doll she's ever laid eyes on.

She stares down at his face in awe, while you and Steve stare at each other. Tired, but so content. Your mom strokes the downy hairs on the top of his head, tears staining her cheeks.

"Maybe Lucas?" Abbey suggests after a few moments of precarious silence.

"Why Lucas?" You inquire.

"That's the boy's name in my favorite book," she says simply. Maybe naming your child didn't need to be so complicated.

"Would we call him Luke for short?" Steve interjects, grinning.

"Only I would," she declares. Your heart swells twice it's size.

"I think that's a beautiful name, Ab." You tell her, kissing the crown of her head tenderly.

And so he was: Lucas Theodore Harrington. His middle name to honor your late grandfather, and a first name picked by his very first and very best friend.

taglist - @soulxiez @sadieshairbrush @the-witty-pen-name @ilovetaquitosmmmm @micheledawn1975 @cherryc1nnam0n @paleidiot @adaydreamaway30 @mrsnarnian @negomi123 @twinkling-moonlillie @royalestrellas @jamdoughnutmagician @cali-888 @kolsmikaelson @1deverland @borhapparker @alexa4040 @chiliwhore @weonlysaidgoodbyewithwordss @paddockspookie42 @foxes-n-frogs @j-mlover383 @i-love-gfv @the-fairy-anon

[parkers-gal]

I love your writing! May I request more mob!bucky, please?

this is kinda trash but it's a cute drabble, i hope u like it! :)

the work hug J.B.

summary: mob!bucky saves you from someone bothering you

warnings: brief harassment and mentions of unwanted sexual attention, bucky being protective, f!reader

wc: 1.3k

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you’d taken the job because of the sign on bonus. you’d heard through the grapevine of mutual friends of a job offering high pay and immediate compensation. when the money hit your account, you didn’t bother asking questions. 

maybe that was a mistake because now, you’re getting pressed up against the wall by a man nearly twice your age. he’s trapped you, and normally there are bodyguards all over the place but you can’t seem to find where they’ve all gone off to.

“please… leave me alone.” your voice comes out smaller than you wanted it to, but after repeatedly telling the man to stop harassing you, he only grew more determined to get what he was after. 

“c’mon, pretty girl. just give me a taste.” 

trying to squeeze past him, you drag yourself along the wall, but he comes with you. you’ve shifted to the right about 6 feet, a round piece of metal lodging itself into the small of your back before the wall gives out and you go tumbling backwards.

you had hit the doorknob of a door that was too easy to open. falling to the floor with a thud, you wince, leaning up on your hands only to be met with a room full of eyes all on you. your jaw drops, embarrassment flooding through you.

“what the fuck?”

you whip your head towards the end of the conference table where the voice came from. seated is a man with an arm of metal, glinting underneath a dress shirt rolled to his elbows. your boss. you scramble to get up, flustered and completely ashamed. the man with the metal arm makes his way towards you.

“what is going on?”

his voice is demanding and you try not to flinch.

“i’m- i’m sorry, sir. i swear i didn’t mean to barge in here, he was pushing me up against the door and i didn’t know where i was going an- and- and-” you’re on the verge of tears.

“get the fuck out.”

one slips down your cheek. then another. you’re trying not to sob.

as you’re about to comply, a hand reaches for your wrist. 

“rumlow. leave.”

opening your eyes in shock, you watch as the man leaves his spot from the doorway. with a nod from bucky, a guard follows him out.

“are you okay?” his voice is softer now and his eyes finally settle on you. 

he notes the tear streaks and wordlessly slips out of the room, leaving behind the men at his table.

“but sir, your meeting-”

he shushes you, pushing open the door to another room down the hallway. a mahogany desk sits comfortably in the middle of the room, bookshelves lining the walls. a set of matching armchairs are resting by the unlit fireplace.

“sit.” 

you comply, feeling the warmth from his body leave your back. he goes off to the side of the room, coming back with a glass of water.

you take a feeble sip, keeping your head down.

“are you okay?”

“i’m sorry.” “you didn’t answer my question, sweetheart.” he kneels in front of you, fingers lifting your chin to look at him. “are you okay?”

you nod. “yeah. i just… i was looking for you or one of the bodyguard-men-guys. they’re always around and when couldn’t i find one i got really scared and started to panic and…” you ramble and bucky tsks, his hand dropping to your knee to rub soothing circles. 

“i’ll make sure to always have security for you.”

you look at him, his eyes holding something else in them. 

“you don’t have to.”

“i oughta kill him for laying a hand on you.”

your jaw drops. “you- what?”

“he knows better than to fuck around at my business.”

you don’t respond, dwelling on his words.

“you can take the rest of the day off.” he stands, twirling a silver ring around a finger on his right hand. “i’ll have steve take you home.”

“but, i-” 

bucky’s hand waves around, cutting you off, a light hum leaving his throat.

“but, sir-”

“what is it?” he turns back to you.

“i don’t… i don’t want to leave.” you admit, holding yourself with your arms and trying to make yourself smaller.

he frowns, bending down again to be eye level with you. “but i need to take care of rumlow, sweets. he needs to learn not to fuck around with me.”

this time, you frown too, staring at your knee in defeat. 

your voice is small again, already ashamed at the words that are about to leave your mouth. “i don’t want to be alone.”

he tsks again and you can tell he’s mentally debating what to do next. 

“can you give me fifteen minutes?”

“okay.” you try to smile but it’s not very convincing. “i’m sorry.”

“nothing to be sorry for.” he stands, softly rubbing your shoulder before making his way to the door. standing in the threshold, he beckons someone over but your chair faces away from the door so you don’t see who he interacts with. after some shuffling, a blonde-haired man hands you a blanket. you recognize him – steve – but you’ve yet to be introduced. 

he sits in the other arm chair opposite you, offering a delicate smile and grabbing a remote to light the fireplace.

“he won’t be long.”

you nod, unsure what else to say. you wrap yourself in the blanket and stare off into the flames, dancing away in the soot-covered hollow. you hadn’t realized how cold you were. 

the door behind you opens and you recognize bucky by the sound of his shoes. 

“thank you steve, you can go.” he dismisses him, grabbing a fluffy rag and taking the seat steve just had.

bucky’s knuckles are already bruising, and he’s wiping off the remnants of some blood.

“did you… hurt him?”

a spark of remorse flickers across his face but then he clicks his jaw and sits up a little straighter. 

“i had to.”

“because he bothered me?”

“yes.” he doesn’t snap, but he’s so confident in his response that it makes you wary to ask anything else.

“but you barely know me.”

at this, he shrugs. 

“i hired you, didn’t i?” he chuckles. 

“yeah but… still. i didn’t even meet you until today.”

he fiddles with his ring again. “alright then, sweets.” he carelessly puts the rag down on the table beside him. “why don’t i get to know you, then?” he muses at you, awaiting your response.

“oh.” 

a deep chuckle leaves his throat.

“since you don’t want to be alone.”

you sit there in shock, still silent. he picks up a book, opening to the page with the bookmark placed neatly inside.

without glancing up, he speaks again, teasingly. “or is that not what you want?” his eyes soften when he sees you nervously bite your lip.

“can i have a hug?”

his shoulders slump like you’ve melted him. he thinks you’re so adorably innocent. 

“i don’t know if i’m any good at those.”

you tilt your head at him, a smile forming. “you’re still human, even after becoming a mob boss.”

he smirks, “a mob boss, huh?”

your eyes widen, regret coursing through you. “i didn’t mean-!”

you stop speaking when he stands up, opening his arms and beckoning you to embrace him. slowly, you abandon the blanket and snake your arms around his waist, successfully nuzzling into the crook of his neck and exhaling. 

“i haven’t done this in a long time.”

“what? hug?” 

his chest rumbles in a gentle laugh. “yeah.” 

letting out a big breath, you squeeze his middle like you’re trying to pull him closer. “well i think you’re doing great.” 

bucky squeezes you back and as you inhale the scent of him, you realize he smells like something you want to call home. afraid of what you started, the fit of butterflies in your stomach erupts and after tonight, you know you’ve started something you can’t ignore. but maybe… bucky feels it too. 

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bucky masterlist

[fallen-w1ngs]

'' flower shop of new feelings ,,

[ 05 : run ]

|| pairing : james "bucky" barnes x florist!reader

|| warning : nothing ! jealous bucky makes a brief entrance 🔥

|| wc : 2.1k

|| btw, if any of ya'll wanna be apart of the taglist, js comment :3 or dm idc <3

The Avengers Tower’s atmosphere was awkward. Like, a weird tense awkwardness. Clint, Wanda, Sam and Bruce got back from their mission which.. Did not go according to plan, and were already bummed out with that, despite there being a backup plan. Tony had a fight with Pepper, yet again, which let’s be real, no one’s surprised about. And last but certainly not least, Peter had seen Bucky leave your apartment the previous night.

I would love to say that Bucky did a graceful job at covering for himself and explaining it.. But that’d be a lie. The second Peter uttered the words “Mr. Barnes?” Bucky ignored him and sped walk outta there. But being an Avenger, and having Peter practically live in the Tower made it virtually impossible NOT to run into him at least once.

“It’s not that big a deal, James, I promise.” You said, your phone pressed against your ear and shoulder. Currently, you were out checking on your shop and running a few errands. That’s when Bucky called and told you the whole ordeal after you shut the door. “I really don’t see how it’s such a big deal. Just explain to Peter that we’re friends.”

But I don’t want to. He thought, I want you as my secret. As strange as it is, you were one of the only things he felt he had that wasn’t poisoned by Hydra or the Avengers. He loved the Avengers (.. sorta) but he needed to have something that was his.

“Yeah, okay. Okay. Just- the team can be.. Unbearable with gossip.” He groaned and ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry for calling you ‘bout this”

“Hey, no, I get that. You don’t gotta explain why you freaked out about Peter,” Your voice was full of understanding. Oh, god, Bucky absolutely loves- no. No, no no. “Oh, and never apologize for talking to me, I love talking to you”

“Oh,” He felt his cheeks warm up. “I like talking to you too.”

A small laugh could be heard from your end of the line, god, he could melt with how warm your laugh was.

“Hey, I gotta head off, I’m meeting up with my brother and his wife for a small get together, but I’ll talk to you later, ‘kay?”

“Your brother?”

“Yeah, I thought I told you ‘bout him! His name’s Silas? He’s a pretentious fuck. Love him to bits, but I don’t like him, y’know?” This made Bucky let out a small chuckle. He had remembered a past conversation of yours where you rambled on about how your older brother was the golden child in your family.

“Good luck with him, [Name]”

“Thanks, James, I’ll call you later”

“Bye” He tried to hide his disappointment in his voice before hanging up. Man, what were you doing to him? He’s a lone wolf, never likes anyone, always grumpy, and rarely smiles. But with you? Seemed like he was the jolliest guy on Earth.

Ah, but he can sort out his feelings later. Right now he needed to talk with a certain Peter Parker.

–

“D-Did you need something, Mr. Barnes?”

Bucky was quick to find the spiderling, he was up in the lab with Bruce. Tinkering away at some sort of more protective type of suit, trying to replicate vibranium without using vibranium. He made up some bullshit excuse for why he needed to talk with Peter, even if Bruce knew it was a lie, he didn’t fight it.

“What you saw last night–”

“You leaving [Name]’s apartment last night?”

Bucky’s eyebrow twitched, god the way he said it felt like he was caught in an affair. “Yes. That. It was nothing.”

“With all due respect, Mr. Barnes, but if it was nothing, why’d you run away?”

“I didn’t run away,” He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the teenager. “It was.. A strategic retreat.”

Peter deadpanned. “Mr. Barnes, I don’t care if you’re dating-”

“We’re not dating.”

“Oh.” Peter sighed and snapped his fingers. “I owe Aunt May 20 bucks now.”

“Maybe you deserve it.” Bucky sighed and tapped his finger against his arm. “Look, just.. Don’t tell anyone I’m friends with [Name].”

Now.. This is where Bucky lost Peter. Why? What?? It was a strange request. A doable one! But a real strange one. “W.. Why?”

“Because Sam’ll bring it up non-stop and I’ll get teased.” It wasn't a lie, but again, not the full reason he wanted to hide you away from the team.

Peter’s puzzled look turned into a more sinister one. “I won’t tell anyone.. But I want you to give me 20 bucks every week I gotta keep your secret”

“Wha- fine. Yeah sure.” Wasn’t like Bucky had anything to spend it on. “If you tell anyone, I’m ripping your arms off.” He said with a small glare before turning away and walking off.

“.. Arms plural? Wait! Mr. Barnes! Arms plural??”

–

With that small confrontation over, Bucky was able to rest easy. Sure, he’d lose a couple of bucks, but really it was Tony who was throwing his money around. I mean, let’s think about it. So many people live in one tower, with electricity running practically everything. The electricity, water and heating bill must be skyrocketed. Ah, but that wasn’t our dear Bucky’s problem.

No, Bucky had to sort through his feelings and try to label your friendship. So he did the one thing that allowed him to feel.. Better, run.

Leaving the Tower was easy enough, being the “Winter Soldier” made it so everyone was automatically scared of him. Slipping away was easy, what was a problem was where he wanted to run. He let his legs take him.

The wind in his hair, the small burn in his legs as he ran farther and farther. His heart rate beating every time he was able to run longer and faster due since there weren’t many people around or stops. Bucky loved to run. He would run all day if he could, it felt like freedom to him. Something he wouldn’t let anyone take from him.

Bucky ran around a few blocks multiple times, by the end of it his face was damp, but not as sweaty as the normal person would be. Again, Super Soldier. Barely got tired. But, he still wanted to get something to hydrate himself. He sped walked over to that one Cafe that was across from your shop, your friend Finn ran it? At least, that’s what you told him. Maybe he could visit you af–

“James?”

Or now. It seemed you were taking your lunch break or something, ‘cause you were standing at the counter. Leaning against the solid surface, talking with Finn. And for some reason, that made a pit form in Bucky’s stomach. But, like many things, he ignored it and walked over to you, giving a small wave to you and.. Finn.

“Hey man, you want anything?” Finn had a charming smile on his face, he seemed.. Boyish. Certainly younger than Bucky, I mean, he looked like he was in his mid-twenties, younger than you.

“Black coffee.”

You snorted and tilted your head up at him. “No cream or sugar? Pegged you for a sweet guy”

The corners of Bucky’s lips perked up for a moment and he just huffed. “Got used to it.” He did, as a young adult and the war happening, everyone had to ration. That meant when he had coffee, it had to be black. None of the fancy sweeteners.

“Boring,” You hit your hip against his in a playful manner.

In a matter of seconds, Finn came back with Bucky’s drink. Some shitty ass black coffee that was overpriced. Ah, love New York. Though, it was fine. What wasn’t fine was how Finn just kept smiling and practically flirting with you.

“We should definitely go together, it’d be really fun, hell I could pay for your ticket too.”

“Finn, you shouldn’t, I’d be able to!” You giggled behind your palm. “But, I’m not opposed to that”

“We could get dinner, hangout beforehand too?”

Smooth. “I’ll definitely think about it, Finn”

Stealing a quick glance at Bucky, you realized his confusion. “Ah, me and Finn were talking about watching a musical together!”

“Which one?”

“The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals!”

“That’s a thing?”

“It’s definitely a thing.” You crossed your arms with a wide smile. “It’s really good! I should show it to you, there’s a recorded version of it up on Youtube.”

He hummed in reply and gave a lazy shrug. “You’ll have to send me a link to it.”

With a small check of your watch you took in a sharp inhale. “Shit, sorry guys, my breaks almost over, Bye Finn! Bye James!”

“I’ll walk you t’your shop.”

Now this you wouldn’t pass up on. You turned back and gave a small wave to Finn as you and James walked out. The second you felt a wave of fresh air roll on you, Bucky put his arm around your shoulder. A small smile tugged on your face as our eyebrow raised. “What’cha thinkin, big guy?”

“.. There’s a lotta cars.” He muttered. The both of you were standing side by side, he was walking on the outer edge of the sidewalk while you walked on the inner. Something you didn’t even realize.

“Such a gentleman, ey, James?”

He glanced over to you, a small smile tugging at his lips as he held you close. You didn’t mind it, didn’t mind that he was warm, didn’t mind when his grip on you tightened when crossing the street, didn’t mind the momentary lingering he had before pulling away from you when you got to the shop.

“Thanks for walking me!” You pushed open the door and grabbed your apron as Bucky stood in the doorframe. He wanted to stay longer, but he didn’t want to distract you as you worked.

He nodded to your thanks and looked around the shop. It still smelled like a garden, everything still felt humid. Everything was still the same. The flowers were in neat rows but they still perfectly transitioned into one another, the small rotating seed holder was still fully stocked. You talked about how people would grab the seeds and buy them, bunches at a time, but you never let it look like that. Always wanted it to be full, just in case.

“On the house.” Shit, he didn’t even realize you were behind him. What great assassin skills guys, real good. You had a hydrangea in your hand. “It’s blue, like your eyes.”

A few beats of silence settled between you two. Bucky just stared at you as your face got increasingly hot.

“T-That was stupid! I dunno why I did that, uh- it’s just what I like to do with friends, give ‘em flowers on the house I-” He cut you off by taking the flower from your hand, all gently and he quietly examined it.

“It’s real pretty.” He muttered and held it close to his chest. “Thanks, [Name].”

“You’re welcome! I-”

Again, you were cut off, not by Bucky, but by his phone. He muttered a small curse and a “sorry” before walking a few feet away. As much as you’d love not to eavesdrop.. IT WAS SO EASY. Not like you had much to work with.

“Mhm… No, I’m out right now,went on a run.. No, I didn’t see Sam… You can tell him to suck it up. I’m not–” He groaned and stayed quiet as the other person on the line kept speaking. “I’m not- just ‘cause they screwed up shouldn’t mean-.. Ugh. Fine, you’re the captain, punk.. Yeah yeah, I’ll be back soon.”

With that he hung up the phone, glaring at it as if it just cursed everyone in his family line.

“Sorry for that, doll, it was work. Turns out next time Sam and the idiots go out, I have to go with them ‘cause they can’t do shit.” He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath, calming himself before he spoke up again. “I gotta go, but I’ll text you.”

“Goodluck with uh, Sam and the idiots.” It wasn’t funny, Bucky was genuinely ticked off, but you couldn’t help but giggle. Thankfully, that seemed to ease some of his tension. His shoulders dropped as he walked over to the door, shooting a small wave to you before leaving.

Hydrangea still in hand.. It was pretty. Like you.

|| the title of this chapter makes this part seem real scary 😭😭 its not, its cutsie. also, i wanted to just show small bits of jealous bucky cz i love jealous bucky. jealous bucky WILL be getting a full part of his own later down the line.

taglist : @iyskgd , @highhopes1008

[mvst4far]

Sam Monroe x f!reader

SUMMARY: Spending the morning with Sam after sleeping over for the night.

WARNINGS: Brief sexual reference (no smut), pill/drug use and a make out with Sammy 💋

Sam stirs beside you with a moody groan, removing his forearm from covering his eyes as he abruptly sits himself up─accidentally stirring you awake in the process.

"God, can you be anymore louder?" You sigh, rolling over to face away from him as you desperately attempt to fall back asleep.

"Shit, my bad," He grumbles apologetically and scratches the back of his neck, kicking the covers off before lazily standing up from the bed.

Somehow, and with weeks of begging, Sam had convinced his mom to let you sleepover for a night. The two of you were allowed to hang out in his room, of course, but you just weren't granted the access of sleeping in the same bed. His mom knew what he was like─especially with his teenage hormones and occasionally finding stiff socks hidden under his bed.

God knows what you two do when you're alone.

Of course, the first thing this emo boy goes for is a stash of pills he keeps hidden in the beside table. He quickly untwists the cap and shakes out a singular pill─placing it onto the palm of his hand before chucking it into his mouth and gulping it down his throat.

His addiction got so bad, that most of the time you'd have to step in and sit through long, uncomfortable conversations. He didn't like opening up at all, but it felt somewhat natural with you.

"Sam," You groan, stretching one of your arms out as you continue to lay on your side.

Sam's head snaps towards you over his shoulder, quickly screwing the lid back on and stuffing it back into the drawer of his beside table. "Yeah?" He clears his throat, trying his best not to sound suspicious as he turns around to face you.

"What are you doing?" You ask.

"Nothin'. You hungry? I can get my mom to make you somethin'."

You sigh and shake your head as he changes the topic. "No, m'okay." You murmur back, your voice lacing with sleepiness.

He nods, standing awkwardly for a moment with his fingers drumming against his thigh. "You tired?" He asks, pointing out the obvious like a dumbass.

"Mhm," You sleepily respond, face nuzzling into the soft pillow that had a lingering smell of Sam's cologne.

Sam almost felt bad that he was keeping you up by continuing to talk to you. He couldn't help it though. It just felt natural speaking to you. And once he started, he couldn't stop.

"So," He starts, staring at your figure lying peacefully on his bed. "What do you wanna do today?" He finishes, shifting on his feet covered with white socks.

"I don't know." You grumble, starting to sound a little more annoyed at his never-ending ramblings.

Sam immediately picks up on the change of your tone, realizing he may have messed up a little. "Sorry," He runs a hand through his black hair, suppressing anything else he wanted to say.

౨ৎ

It didn't take long until Sam had somehow convinced you to pay attention to him instead of sleeping. Even though it was only nine in the morning, he couldn't help his hormones. They sparked a lot more around you─which often got him in trouble.

Sam's lips moves against yours with urgency, his fingers digging deeply into your hips as he firmly holds you down to straddle his lap. With your fingers running through his hair─occasionally scratching his scalp, he couldn't resist but whimper in the most pathetic way possible.

It was a religious occasion for you two to be making out randomly. Didn't matter the place, or the time, since Sam could only keep his hands to himself for so long.

He pulls away with a exasperated exhale, his lips plump and pink. "I was thinking we could hit up the park today. I wanna get high, but I can't do that in my mom's house." He says breathlessly.

You chuckle at his random suggestion, shaking your head in amusement. "We're in the middle of making out, and the only thing you can think about is getting high?" You scoff, making it clear you were teasing him. "Wow, Monroe. Way to make a girl feel special."

Sam clicks his tongue against his teeth, rolling his eyes at your tease. "C'mon, you know I didn't mean it like that," He huffs, almost glaring at you like a defeated puppy.

You burst out into giggles, your hands resting at the nape of his neck. "Yeah, I know you didn't." You admit, shrugging your shoulders.

Sam didn't even have the time to respond before your lips crashes back onto his with desperation─almost latching on him like a leech.

He immediately reciprocates into the kiss, his head tilting to the side to seek a deeper angle while he pushes you flush on his lap. Even though you were basically in control by being on top, he managed to show some dominance with his strength.

And all it did was turn you on even more.

After a few moments, Sam pulls away once more─leaving him completely breathless. "Just to make sure... we are going to the park later, right?" He asks once again, holding you still.

"Sam!" You huff in disbelief, slapping his bicep.

"What?! I was just askin'!"

two posts in one day, i am feeding you guys 🥀

taglist: @alealuvshayden @anakinstwinklebunny @divineani @estranged-girl

[just-null]

Do you ever do requests? If so, do you ever plan on drawing some Yandere with the Hantengu clones? :D hope you have a good day/night!!!

Mentioning an unfamiliar name

yes!! I love yanderes.. and these guys.. these guys are such good material...... nods nods..

I'm not sure about requests..I assume you mean drawing requests? I suppose if it REALLY catches my interest enough, I'd do it, but it'd probably just be line art/sketches.

[faislittlewhiteraven]

Been having some ISaT tech level and timeline (as in 'when backstory things happened') thoughts and want to ramble a bit:

Tech

ISaT's setting is based on your classic sword and sorcery fantasy JRPG so its easy to assume that tech wise everything is 'fantasy medieval' and call it a day but consider:

Body Craft is at bare minimum is magic sex changing surgery (earliest known equivent in our world dating to 1930) that any old person can learn to do safely on themselves in only a few months, and more likely has many many broader applications like regular old surgery, the 'combat healing' Mira and Sif use, etc.

Cameras and photos are rare enough that Odile comments on it (namely she's happy the group get a photo in the House due to them being 'so rare') yet are also common enough that everyone in the party knows about them and doesn't question the existence of a camera beyond being surprised that the mirror was one. (In our world cameras date back to the 19th century, with the earliest manufacturing of them being in 1839). 

Printing presses and ways to make plenty of paper to feed those presses given absolutely everyone in this game can read, expects everyone else to know how to, and both mass produced book series and newspapers are a thing. (Note: Printing presses have existed since waaaay back but it's the mass paper manufacturing that makes newspapers and The Cursing of Chateu Castle possible that really has my eyebrows raised here, especially since neither Siffrin or Odile find either odd in any way, indicating such things are common everywhere, and while newspapers have been around since 1604 in our world, mass produced fantasy books didn't really take off until the start of the 20th century).

Food production and storage: despite being in the middle of a national disaster that almost certainly cut off trade networks and access to most suppliers for literal months now, Bonnie, a small child, is able to easily get their hands on fresh Pineapple, curry ingredients (for samosa), potatoes, plantains etc with no issues or anyone commenting on this being unusual or lucky. Oh and the only character who even brings up the concept of potential starvation is the Fishing One, and only in a sort of 'we're not at risk now but sooner or later...' kinda way due to noticing that the fish they fish up for fun are disappearing and likely being frozen. So yeah, that heavily implies Vaugarde has very good food storage tech/Craft (possibly better than ours), and likely also good food production and harvesting tech/skills also.

The Island's incredible knowledge of the stars: while the oldest known orrery in our world is dated from around 205 to 87 BC (ancient Greek, earth centric model), the fact Sif -who would've learnt this as a child/teen- is so very certain that stars are big balls of fire made up of gas is interesting as that's something our world couldn't prove the theory of until around the 1900s (note: it'd been theorized a LONG time but Sif talks like its complete facts to them . Additionally the earliest existing record of a telescope in our world dates to a 1608 patent and we see one of those in game.

Post posting EDIT: A wonderful user qds-place pointed out that Mirabelle has anti-anxiety medication in her room. This is in both ISaT and SAaP and though we're not sure what form the medication takes (pills? Valium? Megitech esc Craft boosters???) the fact they specifically have 'anti anxiety' medication at all (as opposed to idk dragging Mira off and drugging her through the gills) is kind of impressive and if it IS modern anti anxiety pills those could be as recent in creation as the 1950s! So um. Some high levels of tech implied in chemistry there <3

So... yeah. All this, plus the fact that the highest tech implied area, The Island, literally specialised in the study/Craft of turning wishes into reality (for a long enough time period that Wish Craft is culturally so ingrained in the King and Sif that they do it without thinking and it seems intertwined with their nation's religion) has been completely erased from memory to the point anything heavily associated with them has been forgotten, and also we only ever see Dormont aka a little village well away from the cities, it's not hard to conclude that you can basically justify giving the ISaT world any level of tech you want, so long as you lock any of the truly 'setting breaking' stuff like planes and rockets behind The Island's forgetting curse (I would've said trains too but thinking about it trains were invented in 1802 so it's honestly easy to imagine that they totally exist in the ISaT setting/Vaugarde but aren't ever on screen because rail is way too dangerous to consider using while the Curse is active and potentially time freezing things on the tracks).

Side note: We know absolutely nothing about Vaugarde's transport system but as a fan of fantasy RPGs it is honestly a travesty I have yet to see a fic that has flying dragons/wyverns or other fantasy mounts in setting. Like, ok yes, the party would probably have wanted to use those but maybe they don't like the Curse and fled? Maybe the King's Curse targeted them first? Maybe all their handlers dropped the heroes off in Dormont and said 'Well Saviors it's been fun, but well me and Scales here are off to Poteria until things wrap up so best of luck to you' before buggering off?

This isn't really a serious complaint just. Me reminding myself/potentially other fanwork writers out there that there's a lot about the setting we just don't know about and limiting all travel to walking, horse drawn carriage and boat is not actually required. (Also please mix up travelling to the Island. Boats are a wonderful classic and have great thematic vibes for Sif's original leaving of the Island but like. Imagine the sheer in-universe wtf of the memories of The Island suddenly coming back and people on the north coast suddenly realising there's a massive bridge, subway or underwater tunnel leading there that everyone just forgot about - potentially filled with all kinds of Sadnesses that need taking down. Or Warp Panels in a House of Change, idk XD).

Timeline

Canon notes first:

Bonnie is a preteen (8 to 12), Mira and Isa are in their early to mid 20s (with Isa slightly older), Sif is late 20s to 30, and Odile is 40+ Nille is stated to be around 18 to 20.

Siffrin ran away from home when they were a teenager (13 to 17? 18?) and this is heavily implied to be when the Island was Forgotten.

Bonnie (in ISaT specifically*) says that Nille told them that when it happened all the adults were talking about it, hence why they think The Island is close to their village. *In Start Again a Prologue, Bonnie says that they themself remember the adults talking about the Island disappearing, which er. Is a bit impossible given they likely weren't even born yet when that happened but that can be explained away by AU differences, InsertDisc5 still finalising details between SAaP and ISaT, and/or OG Siffrin having been in the loops so long they weren't actually listening when Bonnie was talking and just 'scripted' in their head something 'close enough' to what Bonnie was saying to get the idea (note: mentioned that idea before in my post here on the differences between the House and King in Start Again vs In Stars and Time for anyone curious so er please feel free to give that a read if you haven't already).

Odile mentions remembering 'when it happened' as well and has been 'travelling for years'.

The King 'appeared out of nowhere' sometime in his adulthood, and lived in the city of Corbeaux for a few years before he became the King.

The King became the King as was freezing people in time long enough before his attack on the House of Dormont that everyone inside knew he was coming, there were a wall's worth of newspaper articles about him, and everyone was expecting Euphrasie to defeat him.

Mirabelle's quest began 'almost a year ago' and Sif lost their eye 'recently'.

Thoughts on the above:

Calculating when The Island was forgotten:

Sif being mid 20s to 30 and having run away from home as a teen means that The Island has to have been forgotten somewhere between 9 to 17 years ago with nine only possible if he ran away at age 17 and is only age 26 now, and seventeen being the far opposite if he ran at age 13 and is currently 30.

To narrow down the timeline: Given Sif ran away from home because he 'didn't want to eat his veggies' and 'just wanted to scare [his] parents a little bit' it's probably safe to assume Siffrin was likely on the younger end of the teen spectrum (teens run off all the time sure but with loving parents and over veggies? That screams 'kid who has not yet learned that freaking out the parents will get their ass grounded and/or yelled at a LOT and is therefore best saved for doing fun forbidden stuff that ideally the parents will never find out about' XD) Additionally given Siffrin can't remember his age/birthday etc but Isabeau outright says near the beginning of the game "But you're older than most of the people here?" meaning Sif must be visibly older than Isa or Mira, so he's probably closer to 30 than not.

Those alone would imply the Island likely disappeared closer to the '17 years ago' side of things BUT Nille (tops 20 years old) told Bonnie that "[the Island's disappearance] was all the adults would talk about for ages" and kids usually can't remember anything prior to 4 years of age so with that in mind...

I'd say The Island most likely disappeared between 13 to 16 years ago.

Nille stuff:

This is more a general mention but. Nille is tops 20 years old. Bonnie is between 8 and 12 and doesn't remember their parents at all.

This means Nille ran away with Bonnie and gained emancipation and custody of Bonnie (if Vaugarde has formalised that kind of legal stuff) while she was at most 12 years old herself and could have in theory been as young as 6..!

Regardless, it's very likely the original home situation was that bad, Nille deserves a ton of credit for raising Bonnie as well as she has and I'd say it's very VERY likely she had a lot of help from villagers in Bambosche and/or the local House of Change in doing so. ...But also Bonnie is very adamantly 'my sister and village' and not 'my sister and [specific names who live with us]' so there's clearly by the time Bonnie was 4 or so they were living in their own place so... Yeah. Lotta drive for independence there too it seems (so the party might have more trouble adopting Nille into their group post ISaT than Bonnie might expect).

King stuff:

Already an adult 13 to 16 years ago so at bare minimum 33. Given his vibe probably much older though.

Newspapers get printed pretty quick though for there to be so much speculation and research done into his background so quick, either Vaugarde has some form of fast messaging system (something like a Chappe telegraph on top of the Houses of Change? Odile I think does mention that they'll have a message sent to let Nille know they'll be returning Bonnie...) or the King was freezing stuff for IDK around a month or two before reaching Dormont? Alas can't find out how long it takes to walk across all of France out very easily (I'm sure the numbers are out there but my brain is pudding rn) but if we had those numbers we could probably make some guesstimates based off the rough sketched map of Vaugarde InsertDisk5 did... Which I would link but apparently the tumblr post I had it linked on has been deleted???? 'wails at this very unhappy development'

Mira's journey and Sif's eye:

We really don't know a lot but almost a year ago gives us somewhere around 9 to 11 months to spread the journey out along and after eye removal surgery the patient can out and about as soon as 2 to 6 weeks after, maybe sooner with magic healing (though full recovery/growing used to the changed spacial awareness -which Sif clearly does not have- probably can't be sped up and takes around 3 to 6 months) so um. I'd guestimate Sif's eye injury is really recent; like two months ago tops recent. ...Which sorta explains a lot of why Bonnie is not dealing with it right now and also why the others might be trying to avoid bringing it up (since Sif clearly loves avoiding the issue but they haven't yet realised that maybe they really should bring it up even if it annoys them anyway?)

Odile with some Ka Bue speculation:

When it comes to The Island, how did Odile, presumably living in Ka Bue at the time, remember 'when it happened'? Was the Island well known enough even on the other side of the world that it's disappearance made waves? Or was Odile herself or someone she's close to paying attention to the region? (Like maybe her dad or a friend is/was into politics or trade, keeping up with overseas news and got concerned it could happen to Ka Bue? I'd say 'I remember when it happened' line implies it was more immediate knowledge than being informed by a messenger much later though...)

As for Odile's 'years of travel' I have to wonder, what's left behind for her in Ka Bue? She brings up going back there quite a bit, might just miss home and possibly her father if he's still alive, but given it took her years to get here for something so personal rather than idk 'materially rewarding' I think Odile might have some kinda family estate or something back in Ka Bue... Something she wasn't worried about potentially losing while far away, but solid enough to want to return to, beyond her father who she'd definitely want to see again if he's still around. (...But given how open she is to chilling about Vaugarde a few more months with the others, I really don't think he is alive, since well, given their respective ages and travel between Vaugarde and Ka Bue apparently taking years, there'd definitely an uncomfortably high chance of him passing away while she's gone and that seems like the thing that'd stress Odile out so... Yeah. Probably got an estate in Ka Bue she'd like to take the Family to visit/possibly sell off if she decides she'd like to live with them in Vaugarde so... Just my off the cuff headcanoning here and hoping that gives others ideas or something).

---

Anyway that's all the ramble I've got in me so... yeah! Hope this was interesting and useful for those needing a bit of a 'possible tech'/timeline calcs breakdown for the Island + a few more vague things and um. Probably will post a long winding ramble about my attempt at a ISaT Selkie AU fic I've been working on next <3 (Not to be confused with looped-140-and-counting's already existing and quite wonderful Selkie Siffrin AU which already has a completed oneshot fic, a snippet of sequel, two snippets of prequel/Sif flashbacking and I believe a comic too, all of which I highly recommend <3)

[1-800-i-ship-it]

omg i just finished orv im going insane im im i can finally look at that doc of things i saved for after i finished orv and can look at spoilers...i can finally unblock that orv spoiler tag...im so normal about orv

[claitea]

i know i shouldnt dwell on stupid opinions like this but a while ago i saw someone complain that Applin was a boring concept bc its just a worm in an apple and i was FLOORED. this iirc was in response to smth about gen 1 designs being boring as well

its not just a worm its a Wyrm its a pun. that is a concept. maybe you don't like it personally but to say its objectively bad is certainly Something. not every pokemon has to be based on a myth or something else fantastical to be a good concept. you Need "boring" pokemon for the dex to feel complete, if Everything is Cool then nothing is actually cool

"gamefreak is running out of ideas" yeah there's a billion fish pokemon but they're all actually very different to each other, lanturn is an anglerfish and lumineon is a butterfly fish. say what you will abt gamefreak rn its probably warranted but imo the one thing they still do right 100% of the time is unique concepts for each pokemon. the execution can be debated but the fundamentals are always there

[om340700]

i like to think that my mc has huge ass mer dca plushies & belphie takes them every once in a while

[cinnbar-bun]

I hope this isn’t a weird question and I’m asking like,,, very nicely because I’m just curious because you often discuss novels but why do you like American Psycho? Like just cuz it’s a horror or smth? Your other recommendations were interesting so I was wondering what your thoughts are

Not weird at all, but sorry the English major in me is gonna pop the hell out and sorry this will be boring and long because I have so many feelings on the book and the movie and the other Ellis novels in general and I think some literary theory being applied to it really takes it beyond its shallow surface viewing of “guy who kills people”.

I will try to keep this short somewhat and I will try to avoid getting graphic and spoilery but beyond that, I do wanna start off with as a WOC in America I’ve always loved stories that tackle the American condition and ideology. It’s easy to write it off sometimes- what’s the difference if X story is in England for example and while yes that can be true, I feel most of the novels I hold important to me (Ellis, Toni Morrison, etc.) is a uniquely American thing. It’s so rooted in American culture and societal values it just personally touches me as a woc who has immigrant parents.

Now tying it back into the last paragraph, American Psycho is at its core a satire, and the novel is especially important for its place during Reagan’s presidency (and honestly a lot of the problems in the novel ARE traced back to Reagan’s policies and Reaganomics), presumably before Black Monday- so this is PEAK Reagan era American consumerist before what is going to be the worst economic crash in the world since the Great Depression.

Patrick is a symptom of the larger problem Ellis tackles- Yuppie culture and American consumption as well as identity politics. I’ve seen the theories of Patrick being a repressed gay man and I thought similarly along with coinciding with Ellis being a gay man who said that Patrick was something of Ellis’s own thoughts at the time. Patrick’s rage I kinda related to in a way (and not in Gahhhhhh I’m gonna murder and drug people!!) but as a warped sense of self and self hatred and repression for what you are.

And before you get the idea that means, Oh so Ellis is a fucking weirdo- I mean, maybe- but you have to read deeper into that and it’s that Patrick has no identity. Sure we read about him, but he effectively has no identity or connection to others. He is routinely mistaken for others, reality is a false construct, perhaps he did nothing or perhaps he did everything he said he did. The ways you can examine American Psycho over and over again is soooooo incredible. Whether it’s from a racial, sexual, or cultural lens I like to take a moment because yes the graphic violence is jarring but that is the point. It’s an over the top parody of what is the real issue- identity and culture. Ex: Patrick is a repressed gay man so he actively goes after women to lie/convince himself otherwise, Patrick is a white man with a rich dad so he gets away with it, Patrick is so empty inside he has to turn to substance abuse and cruelty to get any feeling, Patrick is so lost on who he is he is mistaken for XYZ.

The movie does make the satirical aspects more clear because Christian Bale is performing as Patrick in such an exaggerated way that it’s comical and emphasizes how ridiculous this shit is. I also think as time goes on the novel becomes more ‘important’ and very reflective of the world we live in (considering Patrick is such a fan of Trump to the point of idol worship and needing to be consoled by Trumpisms and this was New York in the late 1880s so like even then that was ridiculous) especially with our current situation now it’s a bit of something to reflect on imo.

So yeah! Just a condensed form of what I feel but honestly I feel and think and have thought waayyyyy more about the film and novel and every progressive viewing or reading as I get older always highlights something new to me. Ellis also is an interesting writer to me, can’t say if he’ll be good for you but in American Psycho specifically as an example because they all spend so much time describing outfits and brands, Ellis knew that people would just skip ahead whenever they did so he just started describing wackier shit and the details about for example Patrick taking his clothes to the laundromat it’s so much more thoughtful than you think.

[caterpillarinacave]

i saw in the tags of your henry and mortmain posts that you’d like people to ask you about them :) — and tbh i’d love to hear more about the parallels between them that you mention in the post :D

Before I begin, I’m so sorry I took so so long to answer! I have been pretty busy and could definitely do a longer breakdown of all this but it’s already been a month and it’s going to drive me insane if I leave thing unanswered any longer. 

I’ll need to do a full re-read of the trilogy to really answer the questions but here are some thoughts that are very interesting to me. Please excuse any incoherent-ness, (and grammar issues, and repetition issues, and poor citation, and spelling, and rambling, etc, etc) i have spent so long staring at the document i wrote this on trying to get my brain to work I may have totally lost the plot. Just trust me guys I’ve got a PhD in Henry Fairchild.  

Lets start off with the most obvious parallel, that being their work. On a strictly physical level the work they do is very similar- they both approach magic through science and vice versa in a notably unique fashion. Stylistically and functionally the things each of them create has a decently sized overla and Henry has no problem understanding Mortmain’s creations. Mortmain favors clockwork for his creations and while Henry doesn’t specifically focus on such things he is very familiar with them, and interested to boot. 

Mortmain is quite brilliant, in multiple ways. Most people could not manage the type of thing he pulls off consistently; Henry *probably* could. It’s worth noting Henry is severely limited by Shadowunter laws; in the third book we see the only reason he hasn’t invented a portal entirely by himself is because he can only work with a specific set of runes (Clockwork Princess, pg. 282). Even working in the tight restraints of Shadowhunter resources, and only being around 21 in the books, he’s extremely competent. 

Furthermore, Henry does not approach things with the period typical Shadowhunter judgement; as a matter of fact he essentially does not function within society as a Shadowhunter. To unpack that lets look at where Mortmain and Henry stand in relation to broader society. 

The London Shadowhunters in this time period can be described, for lack of a better word, as pissy. Judgmental, bored, aggressive, whiny, chronically dissatisfied, dramatic, dismissive, sometimes downright cruel, etc, etc. Pissy. They’re really pissy. 

Henry, objectively speaking, does not fit into all this, and is punished for it (see pgs 281-283 CP3). The general public treats him horribly. Recall in Clockwork Angel Charlotte tells Tessa that Henry was the one who told Mortmain what a Pyxis was (which is, again, a different rant), that he wants her to tell the Clave and that she won’t because “they already treat him so badly”. And they do- nearly every single interaction involving him and broader Shadowhunter society involves some sort of insult, mockery, slight, etc. Almost nobody but Charlotte ever objects to this behavior and her objections have zero effect. “Making fun of Henry” is pretty much an unopposed standard. 

There’s no fair reason for this. Henry is, by all accounts, an extremely pleasant person. He’s repeatedly described as “kind”- Tessa has him pinned as a trustworthy person almost immediately (“it’s only Henry, after all”). He’s rarely upset, laid back, well intentioned, and generally polite. He doesn’t have a mean bone in his body. 

Imo he probably would have been treated better if he did respond in kind- or even if he had just fully withdrawn from Shadowhunter society. His persistent refusal to hold a grudge, a generally positive trait, shoots him in the foot. This is only compounded by his general disinterest in things like physical fighting, politics, and social structure. He hasn’t done anything wrong- quite the opposite- but he’s being punished by his peers for the crime of being earnestly odd (coughhasblatantlyautisticcough). 

Mortmain, being a human child raised by warlocks, obviously does not fit into any particular standard. He doesn't have any particular loyalty to a party. Rather, he mostly defines his identity with his hatred for Shadowhunters, and connects with other groups transactionally with this in mind. 

He has been wronged by the Shadowhunters, when his parents were killed and then in the aftermath. The Clave denying his request for reparations and, by extent, denying any wrongdoing in their actions, is a smack in the face from a powerful society. 

With this in mind they would be both well within their rights to resent the Shadowhunters and they respond to that in fully opposite ways. 

Henry doesn’t resent them- at all. Despite how horribly he is treated, which, one can note, does not stop after the battle of Cadair Idris, he chooses to let it go and actively work to make life better for those same people. (Clockwork Prince; “You know it isn't just tinkering for me. You know I want to create something that will make the world better, that will make things better for the Nephilim.”), He views that cruelty as a part of life as a Shadowhunter but not the defining part of that society. It’s just a thing that happens- it sucks, it hurts, but he’s not going to blame or punish the whole group because of it. 

Mortmain’s is entirely the opposite. He hates them and views all the Shadowhunters as irredeemably wrong, fully deserving of a violent fate. All of them. He’s obsessed with destroying all these people despite most of the individuals who hurt him directly being gone. He blames them all, intends to carry out a mass punishment and doesn’t care about anything else.

He is deeply resentful, yeah, but he also wants more for himself. He doesn’t just want revenge, he wants a disgusting amount of power, a total victory over anything he choses, power mainly for the sake of having power. 

Now we can circle back to that earlier point- Henry could be like Mortmain. 

Recall in Clockwork Angel when they first bring back the automaton for Henry to examine in his lab he’s not just interested in the machine- he’s excited about it.He recognizes it to be a brilliant work of science and design, something incredibly impressive and compelling. This is not the sort of thing anyone sees everyday and it’s certainly not the sort of thing a Shadowhunter would interact with. This is exactly the sort of thing he loves, the sort of thing nobody else ever brings up, and it’s exciting to see. 

As the books continue nobody else is ever caught up on the functional skills of the machinery itself. People talk about Mortmain, about what is happening, what to do, etc, etc, but the fact that the automatons are a feat of engineering is just not on anybody's radar. It’s not the sort of thing any Shadowhunter gives shit about, save Henry. 

So Henry has the same intellectual capacity as Mortmain, the same scientific and magical capacity, and a not dissimilar approach to thinking. 

He could pretty much disappear and do whatever he wanted forever. He could ditch the Nephilim. He could walk off without telling anybody and never bother with the Clave’s again. He could go off and study all the things Shadowhunter’s are banned from. He could create whatever he wanted completely unencumbered by the restrictions of the Nephilim (see pg.283 of CP3). Chances are nobody would pick up on it. One of the major flaws of that group of Shadowhunters is that they’re very self focused. If someone they aren’t particularly fond of, who doesn’t fit into their narrow view of someone that deserves respect, stops showing up and interacting with them they are not gonna make any real effort to figure out where they’ve gone. If Henry wasn’t around to “annoy” them none of them wouldn't go looking for him and they don’t have enough respect for innovation to wonder what he’s up to. 

Remember, nobody cares about what he does (Clockwork Princess: Henry blushed a scarlet color. It was clear that no one had ever complimented his inventing before, except perhaps Charlotte. Pg. 282 ) 

He could have a whole new world of resources without having to deal with a society that thoroughly rejects him. He could do the one thing everyone thinks he loves the most. Hell, from an outsider point of view, the only thing he loves. He’ll happily spend days straight working, forgetting to eat, sleep, or anything else.

It’s theoretically not difficult to imagine a universe where he skips out of Shadowhunter society completely and has been wandering around the same circles as Mortmain for forever. 

(He doesn’t ofc because that would be betrayal. It would require breaking the law, throwing away all social and civic responsibility, abandoning the whole kit and kaboodle, blah blah, certainly not related to other very elaborate thoughts I have about this character.)

The point here is that they are so similar save that fact. Their scientific approach to the world, which absolutely defines that way Henry exists and, at least at some point in his life, probably defined Mortmain, are so similar. If you laid the basic facts all out to someone with no context other previous knowledge on the characters (here is what they do, here is what they’re best at, here is what they bring physically to the table etc and exclude personality, morality, relationships, etc) and asked them to point out a character most like Mortmain they’d probably point to Henry. 

Hell, I’d point to Henry. I’d say yeah, that’s a set up for someone to go full mad scientist and wander off to do whatever he wants. I’d say that's the character most likely to agree to use human bodies to power machinery. 

Recall back to Clockwork Angel (and like, two paragraphs ago) about the automatons that are so fascinating to Henry. The beginning scene is the most exciting he  ever is about this incredible tech:

“[The automaton] is not precisely a living creature at all… A mechanical creature, made to move and appear as a human being moves and appears. Leonardo da Vinci designed one. You can find it in his drawings- a mechanical creature that could sit up, walk, and turn its head. He was the first to suggest that human beings are only complex machines, that our insides are like cogs and pistons and cams made of muscle and flesh. So why could they not be replaced with copper and iron? Why couldn’t you build a person? But this. Jaquet Droz and Maillardet could never have dreamed of this. A true biomechanical automaton, self moving, self directing, wrapped in human flesh.” His eyes shone. “It’s beautiful.” 

“Henry.” Charlotte’s voice was tight. “That flesh you’re admiring. It came from somewhere.” 

Henry passed the back of his hand across his forehead, the light dying out of his eyes. “Yes- those bodies in the cellar.” (pg. 160-161, Clockwork Angel. )

That characteristic earnest excitement that he displays towards nearly everything new dies on the spot. “Miranda” and the other automatons are not less interesting because they’re made with human body parts- if anything that should make it more interesting. But the scientific brilliance is negated by the cruelty associated with it. It’s impressive, it’s “beautiful” and it’s not worth it. Innovation that opposes life, as opposed to promoting it, doesn’t count (see tags). 

So their work, especially in this context, is interchangeable- it’s their intentions that make the whole difference. 

Tessa says it best in Clockwork Princess; Henry brings things to life. Mortmain destroys. Where one of them has devoted his life to protecting people, regardless of how he’s been treated, the other one has devoted himself to slaughtering people, because of how he was treated. Where one invents with the specific intention of protecting life 

In other words, two very very similar people differentiated by a fundamental love for humanity and a fundamental disregard of it. 

TLDR: I need to reread the books to make this post but their style of work, approach to science and magic, and interests parallel. Also I have no idea if I’m coherent anymore please ranting in the tags for thoughts on everything here. 

TLDR the TLDR: They’re both inventing shit in a series hinged around these things that have been invented

[mustangs-flames]

OH MY GOSH MUSTANG. HOW COULD YOU? THEY'VE BEEN THROUGH ENOUGH.

Also Idk how it took me so long to see the pattern of sons growing up to act like their father in the same way that made them traumatized. It makes me worried for Adam, who had 2 dads that were both terrible.

It's only going to get worse for them tbh :)

Quite a lot of the characters perpetuate cycles from their parents at some point in the story. Part 6 really focuses on Mark's anger issues and Cian's inability to handle grief in a healthy way and the substance abuse (alcohol) he ends up relying on to try and cope when smoking isn't enough anymore. They both have to break it in order to move forward but they do some shitty things whilst trapped in their spirals, which is supposed to link/parallel to m!Cesar's acceptance of humanity and becoming a better person. Something something, even after you've done bad things you can still do better, but you have to actively make the choice and work hard at it, you know?

Idk if any of that makes sense but it will as Part 6 comes out lmao

[detectim]

never forget those couple issues in red r.obin 09 where tim gets put in one of those 'ready p.layer one' esque simulation worlds and in a place where someone can make their avatar look like their ideal versions of themselves, the Only thing he changed was making his suit look like dick's nightwing suit

[lovely-menza]

🎶🤍✨when u get this, list 5 songs u like to listen to, publish. then, send this ask to 10 of your favourite followers (positivity is cool)🎶🤍✨

Hiii I'm gonna answer this so late but yay thanks :DD

Lachryma - Ghost

Expocityvisions - Falco

Fly On the Windscreen- Depeche Mode

This Is Not America - David Bowie (SPECIFICALLY the live at the beeb version)

Paintbox - Pink Floyd

[random0lover]

I hate men and their need to act like any emotional reactions you have while you’re on your period is just you being “hormonal” and “not yourself”

(Rant in tags)

[fragmentedblade]

Boothill's presentation being entirely on the twitter post makes me think he will be irrelevant in the story in the long(ish) run, and that the game itself won't dwell on him almost at all