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gyllenhaalstories · 3 years

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YOU WON’T PLAY, YOU’RE NO FUN — PROF!CHRIS

summary: chris evans is your professor with whom you’ve had an affair with since the beginning of the semester. you meet with him over zoom with your fellow teammates to discuss your project, but you can’t seem to get into the right mindset. instead of providing the group with clever comments and ideas, all you do is test the limits of chris’ patience and self control.

warnings: don’t have sex with your prof please, mentions of online classes, smut including: established dom/sub relationship & teacher/student relationship (abuse of power used strictly as a joke, they are both 18+ and consensual), degradation, masturbation & mutual masturbation, edging. MINORS DON’T READ NOR INTERACT.

word count: 1500

notes: rail me daddy :) i’m a hoe for teacher/student if you can’t tell already. i do keep it vague by not mentioning any majors, don’t worry! it’s my first time writing for chris, so please, be kind!!! i hope you enjoy reading this mess!!!! ily <3

gif credits: capsgrantrogers blessing us with this low quality webcam goodness.

“Miss /Y/L/N, would you mind staying a little longer? I need to talk to you.” Chris’ voice resonated as your classmates went quiet before they waved their cameras goodbye and left the two of you alone.

Uh oh.

“Sure, what do you want to talk about?” By the time you were done with your question, you noticed that his face was frozen. “Mister Evans! Chris?! I think there’s an issue I can’t — hear you.” You sighed and rolled your eyes. You seriously needed to get that Internet connection checked. You had your hand on your laptop, ready to close it up when you heard the familiar noise of a video call, but this time it was a private conversation.

“Don’t want anybody to walk in on us, right?” Chris winked and smirked at you. You had a flashback of that one time you hooked up in his office and realized his door was left ajar when you could hear the secretary of the department arguing with the printer. You thanked your guardian angel (who must had been very disappointed) that you were just on your knees blowing him off, and that nothing too serious was going on.

You laughed, for a second you thought you were in trouble.

“What was that all about?” Chris questioned, his smirk disappeared and was replaced by a dark expression.

“I have no clue what you’re referring too.” You shrugged lightly and looked at the screen, wishing he had chosen another shirt that showcased his tattoos. You were lucky enough to see his arms from the short sleeves, you felt as aroused as royal men back in the day when they saw a woman’s ankles.

Chris clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Oh, really? There is no explanation to the attitude you’ve been giving your teammates and me all morning?”

You sighed again, loud enough for him to hear you. “They’re idiots and I’m sick of their shit. They’re not doing anything on the project yet they show off in front of you just to —“

“Got it, they’re dumb and you’re smart.” He put the emphasis on the last few words. “Tell me, Miss, if you’re that smart, how come you’ve made the very stupid decision to be rude to me as well?”

You swallowed thickly. You were just so pissed off, exhausted from the all nighter you had to do in order to complete the requirements for today’s class. “Chris, look, you know it wasn’t about you...” You heard him cough. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

“I’d call you a good girl, but good girls don’t talk back and they certainly don’t act so bratty. What a potty mouth, you swore in front of everybody. Do I have to teach you manners too? I’m afraid that’s not listed on my tasks as your professor, too bad.”

“I said I was sorry! You know how much I hate them!”

“Do I have to give you a bad grade for not cooperating? Not everybody is as understanding as me, you need to learn that.”

He sounded so arrogant, so condescending. As much as you hated it, it turned you on. You were all squirmy on your chair, and he caught up on that.

“Tell me, what’s on your mind, princess? Why are you on the edge?”

You looked up through your lashes, letting out a complaint. That fucker. The last time you met, which was over a week ago, he had an emergency and had to leave his apartment to go on campus. How convenient, you had not finished and you were left breathless and worked up on his bed. He made you promise not to touch yourself without permission on his way out. He knew just how impatient you could get. All the needy texts you sent him while he was looking over his other classes during an exam; all the begging you did over the phone while he insisted on doing small talk.

“You won’t play with me,” you pouted at the screen. “You’re no fun.”

He chuckled, his voice sounded lower than usual while he sat up on his chair. He loved this game with you, probably as much as you did if not more.

You noticed his arm disappeared out of the frame. You’d do ten other team works with your stupid colleagues if it meant you’d be the one to take care of his hard on at that very moment.

“Oh, baby wanna have fun? Is that it? You should have told me sooner!” He cleared his throat when he heard you sigh again, giving you a warning. “Get those fingers nice and wet for me.”

You obeyed, sucking on two fingers of your dominant hand. You picked up on the back and forth movements of his arm, he was palming at his crotch. You caught a glimpse of him standing up — he was in tight Calvin Klein boxers — and sitting back down, his cock freed from his clothes. “I’ve been good, Sir. So good.”

He nodded slowly, after spitting in his hand and starting to fist his cock. “Oh, really?”

You nodded frantically. “I haven’t touched myself since you left,” you pulled your hand away from your mouth, a string of saliva fell down your chin. “I’ve been so wet for you, Sir. You’re all I’ve been thinking about.”

“Then think about my fingers rubbing your clit.” He groaned, the speed of his arm motions increased.

You jerked on your chair at the contact of your fingers, your panties were soaked from your arousal. “Sir!” You moaned out when you circled faster against the bundle of nerves.

“You’re so fucked up for me, you’d rather cum on your fingers than on my face, huh?” You felt tears pooling in your eyes. “Stop touching yourself and answer me.”

You pulled your hand away, showing it to the camera so he believed you. “I want to cum so bad, Sir! Please, just once! And I’ll wait until we meet again. I need it!”

“And I need to fuck that tight little cunt of yours and you don’t hear me complainin’.” His bicep flexed in his tight shirt, his breathing got heavier. “I waited for you the entire week. I didn’t text you in the middle of the night begging like a desperate slut.” He nodded, indicating you could start rubbing again.

You moaned loudly, throwing your head back. He was edging you, again.

“Eyes on me, Baby. Need to see you.”

It took so much energy just to keep your eyes open.

“Faster.” He growled, he was so close too. You could feel it, even if he was far away.

“Sir, please!”

“Stop, stop right fucking now.” He pulled away from his swollen cock at the same time as you did. “I won’t tolerate attitude like this again, you heard me?” You nodded, mouthed a ‘yes’. “I don’t want to repeat myself. You’re such a dumb little baby sometimes, I’ll probably have to.” The more he mocked you, the more you needed to touch yourself again. “Next time you act like a bitch in my class, you’ll regret it.” You never took his threats lightly. The first, and last, time that you did, you ended up bent over his knee with the belt of his dress pants spanking your ass red like the ink from the pen he used to grade papers

“I’ll count to ten. At ten, you’ll...”

“I’ll cum!” You spoke excitedly.

“Yes, Babygirl. You’ll get to cum.” He licked his lips and stroked his beard, his hand holding his sensitive cock. “Ready?”

You replied with even more enthusiasm and he started to count up.

“Slowly, 1, 2, 3...” He swallowed thickly. “Add more pressure now, 4, 5, 6,” he tightened his grip around his cock. “Faster, 7, 8, 9...” he jerked himself up at the same speed as you. “Now, cum for me. Make a mess like you’d do on my cock. That’s right, cum for me, Princess.”

The knot in your stomach finally snapped and you released yourself on your hand. You were panting and clenching around nothing, wishing you were with Chris right now.

He growled loudly as he released himself on his hand and shirt. “Look what you did to me, Baby.” He sat up just enough to show you, causing you to laugh at the sight of his messed up top.

In exchange, you showed him your slick coated fingers before you licked them clean. Blood rushed to his cock again, but he took a deep breath to calm down. “All good now?”

“Yes! Thank you, Sir.” You smiled, content and satisfied.

He wiped his hand clean with his shirt, after he removed it and let you admire his broad chest and inked drawings. “I’m giving you extra homework.”

Your smile disappeared and you squinted, mentally preparing for more readings or an extra essay on how good he fucked you. It would be your third or fourth, you ran out of synonyms to explain that he made you feel like you were on cloud nine.

“Take a shower and a nap, I’ll get to this meeting and meet you back home, okay?”

Your face lit up again, and you clapped happily.

“See? I can be fun when I want to.”

#chris evans imagine #chris evans smut #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you

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reddeux · 4 years

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Hydra

Overview: It’s nearing the Cultural Festival and you have been thinking of a way on how to answer a confession that you received from your crush, Shoji. One day, you heard this very lovely and endearing song that Jiro shared to you with the caption, “It reminded me of your voice”. Then it hit you.

Pairing: Mezo Shoji x Singer!Reader

Warnings: Just full on Fluff and overflowing emotions. Nothing major.

A/N: Take it easy on me please, this is my first fic. I hope you like it though. Also, credits to Google for the Gif and Myth & Roid for the song used in the fic The song title is “Hydra”. Lyrics translation came from lyricstranslate. Enjoy everyone!

“You don’t have to answer immediately. I can wait.“

You let out a sigh as you sit in your darkened room listening to music and your face flushed.

“Seriously, it came so out of the blue.“ You mumbled to yourself but you can’t help but be happy at the same time knowing that the person of your affection feels the same way you do.

You have been crushing on the tallest but gentlest guy in your class from the moment you laid eyes on him upon opening the classroom door. You felt your face suddenly burst hot and your knees weaken when he talks to you or just greet you a good morning.

One time, you almost embarrassed yourself in front of him when Shoji greeted you good morning first with a smile when you entered the room. You felt your knees buckle and if it weren’t for Jiro and Hagakure standing behind you, your ass will be meeting the floor. But you also immediately composed yourself and with a very flushed face, greeted him back. Also that was the time all the girls discovered your infatuation towards the six-armed male.

You also have to admit, always thinking of him while practicing your quirk gives you a little boost to do better. Your quirk is basically based on songs. You can convey whatever feelings the song has to yourself, other people, or objects by humming their tunes. Double power and effects when you sing it, words and all.

You can sing better and you can convey more emotions whenever you think of singing love songs to him. You create more destruction whenever you sing powerful songs with the though of punishing whoever hurt him, and you feel extra sadness singing songs with the thought of him not returning your feelings.

You are becoming better because of him and what you didn’t know, he’s also becoming better because of you. So when the day came that he asked you to meet him outside the dorms 10 minutes before curfew and dropped the confession, you are super elated and over the clouds.

But instead of screaming and jumping for joy and giving him the biggest bear hug like you planned, you just stood there. Stunned, face red and mouth slightly open with no words coming from you. Of course, this sent a different message to Shoji.

“You don’t have to answer immediately. I can wait.“ He simply said when 10 minutes passed and you still haven’t said anything.

So now, a week before the Cultural and 2 weeks after the confession, you still haven’t said anything. You still talk to Shoji. Although now, there is a somewhat awkward atmosphere between you and the entire class is super aware of it. The girls asked you what happened and you almost had a brain hemorrhage from all the shaking Mina and Hagakure did. You defended yourself and they understood after a very long explanation, contemplation and admitting how stupid you are for just standing there.

You’re still sitting in your room when you received a chat notification from Jiro. You checked it and saw a link to a video.

“Reminded me of your voice. Thanks Jiro.“ You said and played the video

It started with a very soothing vocal and the tune is very smooth and you can feel the singers intent with every lyric. You quickly opened your eyes, you didn’t know were closed and stood from your bed.

“Feel the emotions... Song...“ The thought sank into you and you quickly ran to Jiro’s room

When you arrived, to your relief, all the members of the band are there making finishing touches for their performance.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?“ Jiro asked on her bed holding her guitar.

You lifted up your phone with the video playing and panted.

“I need your help guys.“

❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🖤

The main performance of 1-A is already finished and the dancers all went down stage to originally clean up the gym when the audience leaves but some of them are puzzled when the band is not leaving the stage.

“Thank you everyone for listening to our song. But the show is not yet over. We still have one more song for you guys. More specifically, for a certain guy.“ Jiro said playfully and looked down at Shoji.

Said male just raised an eyebrow and the rest of the crowd started to erupt into murmurs. Jiro looked somewhere at the back and nodded. Then to everyone’s surprise, you came out and hugged Jiro.

“Thanks for doing this.“ You whispered to her

“Of course. Anything to save your love life.“ Jiro said and stepped away from the mic.

You scanned the audience as you stood there and when your eyes landed on Shoji, you smiled widely at him for the first time again after his confession.

“This is my answer to you. Sorry it took so long. You know who you are.“ You said and you can hear all your girl classmates down the stage squealing and nudging Shoji

You looked back at the band and nodded. Jiro quietly counted to 3 and you sang the song.

Hametsu sae itowanaide (Even if I were to come to ruin please don't loath me)

Nē, imada kono te ni nokoru kakera datte (Hey, even the fragments that still remain in this hand) Anata no mono (Belong to you)

Nanimokamo nakushite mo (Even if I were to lose just about everything) Sasageru mono ga aru no (I would still have something to give to you) Mirai datte inochi de sae (Be it even my future or even my very life)

Yake tsukita kanjō mo fumōna inori mo (Even my burnt out emotions and my fruitless prayers) Sugaru buzama mo mitsugu gu kamo (Even the ungracefulness I cling to I will even present you my foolishness) Yanda koe mo yogoreta ryōte mo (Even my failing voice and even both my stained hands) Kizu de fusagareta kokoro mo (Even my heart that is covered in wounds)

I have been wishing for nothing but your happiness , over and over

Nani mo kono te ni nakute mo (Even if there is nothing in these hands)

Jikan ga mada aru no nara (If I still have time left) Nan do mo kurikaesou (I would repeat it over and over again) Muimi datte muda datte ii (It's fine even if it's meaningless and even if it's pointless)

Tsumiageta hibi ga muzan ni chitte mo (Even if the days we spent were to be ruthlessly dispersed) Omoi ga noroi ni kawatta toshite mo (Even if my desires were to turn into curses) Mukui mo naku torō ni owatte mo ii (It's fine even If I won't be rewarded and even if it will end in vain) Mō anata shika mienai (I can no longer see anything but you)

Kuraku kagetta kono michi no saki de wa (Everything ahead of this road has turned completely dark) Donna hikari mo yagate tsuieru deshō (So no matter what kind of light I have it would probably die out soon enough) Unmei ga sō nara ... (This seems to be my fate...)

Kibō matsu yōni ikiru yori (Waiting for that hope) Kotogotoku shikiru no ima o (I completely devote myself to you from the day I was born and I still do)

Yake tsukita kanjō mo fumōna inori mo (Even my burnt out emotions and my fruitless prayers) Sugaru buzama mo mitsugu gu kamo (Even the ungracefulness I cling to I will even present you my foolishness) Nanimokamo ga dō natte mo ii (No matter what happens) Subete anata sasageyou (I shall give you just about everything)

Nothing would make me happier than if I could be with you forever

When the song ended, not only are you in tears, but the entirety of the people and your classmates are as well. Heck, even Bakugo’s eyes are a little moist. You sniffled a little and looked towards Shoji to see him smiling widely under his mask and his eyes full of love, happiness and unshed tears.

He felt it. The sincerity of the message in your song and you didn’t even use your quirk when you sang. You want your true feelings to be heard from the song without using your quirk. And it did reach everyone’s heart, especially Shoji’s.

Your lips were quivering when you ran towards the edge of the stage and jumped towards Shoji. He quickly caught you in a hug and spun you around two times before stopping, but not releasing the hug.

“I love you so much.“ Shoji whispered to you behind his mask as his face is buried in your neck

“I love you as well.“ You answered and pulled away briefly to press your foreheads together

You were looking into his black eyes when you decided to be a bit bold. Think of it as a sorry for taking too long to admit your true feelings. You slowly reached to slide down his mask and pressed a kiss to his lips. His eyes widen a bit before going clam and closing it to kiss you deeper.

The crowd and your classmates were cheering wildly at the background but you couldn’t care less. This moment is yours and Shoji’s alone, and nothing can take it away from you.

#my hero academia #bnha #shoji #bnha x reader #mezo shoji #mha x reader #reader insert #hydra #bnha shoji #shoji x reader #mezo shoji x reader #first fic #bnha scenarios #mha #romance #love #myth & roid

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historyofshipping · 4 years

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My massive Bellarke is epic and here’s proof from s5-7 rant.

Ok guys I cannot stress enough that I am drunk, this is long, it has strong language, and it’s a trip. I am putting it almost all under a cut because it is 20 f*ing pages on word.

For reference: this was on a discord chat and I am removing all names and a few other things but there will be absolutely no editing. Anything in straight text is me, anything in italics is someone else (there’s several different someone elses so people are separated by line breaks). On my page I think it appears as everything grey is someone else, everything black is me. I’m going to put the beginning on here and rest under the cut. If you’re still going through with this, I suggest some popcorn.

Guys... I'm trying to stay optimistic but I'm really worried that jroth is gonna make bellarke canon in a really disappointing way. Like for me infidelity is a huge no in ships and I hate that becho has gone on so long that there doesn't seem to be a lot of room left in the canon timeline for a becho breakup/end that doesn't ruin the start of Bellarke for me

WAIT I GOT YOU I CAN CALM YOU I THINK BUT FIRST I NEED TO EAT MY BREADSTICKS

Every moment Echo is on the screen I want to claw my eyes out because she's so boring please jroth let it fucking end, but the feminist in me doesn't want her to die or be disrespected just because she's a callous asshole who doesn't deserve him yknow

Eat your breadsticks babe I've been living with my dread for 2 seasons I can hang on a little longer I just wish the entire becho relationship had never happened it's a blight and it's gone on so long adenfkidsngksdgnksdgn

Kate will say it better than I will, but don't lose hope! Becho hasn't really been together on screen for very long. It's only been like a few weeks to a month since the beginning of S5. They've stretched it out over two seasons, but in canon not much time has passed. And most of that time had Bellamy either sacrificing almost 300 lives to save Clarke, poisoning his sister to save Clarke, or fucking off into the wilderness with Josephine to save Clarke. They've just straight up not had enough time for Bellamy to be like, "Hey Echo, I know I said things wouldn't change but that was before my wife was actually alive, so bye." Though to wishing Becho had just never happened. We got one good angst scene with Clarke seeing them kiss. But otherwise, I could have very much done without their whole relationship.

they gave me 2 dozen breadsticks. i ordered 6

You've been blessed by the breadstick goddess.

oh sorry i was misinformed. i only have 22. apparently one bag only had 4 OK SO BELLARKE BITCHES AM I GOING TO ANNOYINGLY DO THIS IN CAPS SO BUCKLE TF UP

I mean, I love the idea that they only got together in the sixth year on the ring when Bellamy totally lost hope but is that canon? I thought we had a 3 year range

ALL RIGHT

We ignore canon in this channel. lol They've been together for 3 months.

SO LET'S START AT THE BEGINNING OF BECHO ok caps off. i even annoyed myself

I'm so here for this.

https://tenor.com/view/murder-she-wrote-angela-lansbury-jessica-eats-popcorn-interested-gif-4594942

Damn, I was ready for caps.

OK WE'RE BACK TO CAPS

https://giphy.com/gifs/popcorn-go-on-keep-going-Zd1BUb0qs6nwjeMUBu

OK SO WE HAVE BECHO'S FIRST SCENE TOGETHER ANYONE REMEMBER WHAT BELLAMY SAID? ANYONE? THIS REQUIRES AUDIENCE PARTICIPATION

"Hey work with me so I can break everyone out of this mountain"? or something?

OH DAMN I MEANT WHEN THEY WERE CANONICALLY TOGETHER XP

"I'm a goddamn delight who's trying to save your life you ungrateful walnut so maybe don't spit in my face" is what I would have written

LMFAO OJN THE RING WHAT'S THE FIRST THING WE HEAR FROM THEM? THE FIRST IMPORTANT THING? ANYONE?

Unfortunately that scene was physically repulsive for me so I don't remember much except for "nothing will change on the ground and my sister totally didn't mean to murder you"

AHA! THERE YA GO NOTHING WILL CHANGE ON TEH GROUND BECAUSE WHAT IS HE EXPECTING ON THE GROUND? NOTHING TO CHANGE BECAUSE THE ONLY THING THAT COULD CHANGE IS -----

>"I'm a goddamn delight who's trying to save your life you ungrateful walnut so maybe don't spit in my face" is what I would have written I SPIT OUT MY DRINK I CANNOT

ANYONE? YUP

I'm behind. lol

CLARKE

AND THEN WE GOT TO THE GROUND, WHAT HAPPENED?

BEING ALIVE

His sister having more taste in his romantic partners than him?

WHAT WAS THE LITERAL ONE THING THAT COULD HAPPEN THAT WOULD CHANGE BELLAMY'S MIND DING DING DING CLARKE IS ALIVE

10 points to

AND WHAT DOES OUR BABY BOY DO?

SACRIFICE 300 PEEPS FOR HIS WIFE

Clarke with a gun AND a kid AND a rover AND bedtime storytelling practice like what more could he want that's all the things he loves

A LITTLE AHEAD BUT BANG

BABY BOY FOLLOWS CLARKS DAUGHTER FIRST, LEAVING ECHO IN THE LITERAL DUST (that's what he does before sacrificing lives)

WE WENT FROM "I WILL NOT TOUCH THESE PEOPLE BECAUSE WE'RE GOING TO DO BETTER." TO "I WILL SLAUGHTER 283 PEOPLE WITHOUT RAISING AN EYEBROW" BECAUSE RANDOM CHILD SHOWS UP AND SAYS "CLARKE'S IN TROUBLE" RANDOM CHILD WHO HAS JUST KILLED A BUNCH OF HARDENED CRIMINALS

He had the dad mug tho, he had to help her

HE SAW HIMSELF IN HER HE KNEW

HIS SOUL KNEW

SO WE'RE THERE NOW BUT THEN BANG, WE'RE ON THE GROUND AND OH FUCK I FORGOT I HAD A GIRLFRIEND BUT BELLAMY IS LOYAL SO HE SURE AF ISN'T DOING ANYTHING UNTIL HE'S DONE WITH ECHO BUT

He's had 2 seasons!!!!!

CLARKE BASICALLY ACTS LIKE SHE DIDN'T CARE ABOUT THE SEPARATION THOU SHALT NOT POKE HOLES IN MY SHIT UNTIL I AM DONE

>He's had 2 seasons!!!!! But only like a few weeks in time.

BECAUSE THESE TWO FUCK HEADS CANNOT HAVE A CONVERSATION

Forgive me!

SO WE HAVE A GRAND TOTAL OF FEWER THAN 3 WEEKS THAT THEY'RE ON THE GROUND AND THEN IN THAT TIME WE HAD.... one sec pPLEASE TAKE A MOMENT TO REVIEW THE TIMELINE https://historyofbellarke.tumblr.com/post/620425806742749184/season-5-7x03-so-far-timeline FOR SEASON 5 ALL RIGHT SO WE HAVE THEM TOGETHER FOR LESS THAN A WEEK BEFORE BELLAMY'S LIKE (FROM CLARKE'S PERSPECTIVE) "I DON'T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT YOUR KID, I HAVE TO SAVE MY FAMILY" SO THEN WE HAVE THEM SPEND THE NEXT 10 DAYS APART BECAUSE SHE LEFT HIM AFTER SLAPPING HIM AND SHE THOUGHT HE DIED BECAUSE THEY ARE FUCKING MORONS WHO CAN'T HAVE A CONVERSATION (YOU WILL NOTICE A RECURRING THEME) AND THEN, ECHO HAS LEARNED THAT NOT ONLY HAS CLARKE CARED ABOUT BELLAMY ALL THIS TIME BUT THAT SHE'S ONCE AGAIN READY TO PUT THE FATE OF HUAMNITIY ON THE LINE TO SAVE HIM "GO SAVE HIM. EVEN TAKE MURDER!DAUGHTER WITH YOU" BUT BELLAMY STILL DOESN'T KNOW THIS SO ANYWAY WE HAVE ANGST!BELLAMY GET PARENT TRAPPED BY MURDER!DAUGHTER are y'all still with me? AND THEN WHAT HAPPENED IMMEDIATELY AFTER MURDER!DAUGHTER'S INTERVENTION?

BELLARKE FORGIVENESS ™

YAS NOT ONLY THAT BUT SOFT!BELLARKE RETURNS WITH A VENGEANCE [side note: you can pry this theory from my cold dead hands but there was 100% a canon bellarke scene between forgiveness and 125 year wake up just in case they ended at season 5.]

[I need them to publish that scene when this is all over]

ALL RIGHT SO FUCKING MARPER - WHO SPENT A TOTAL OF LIKE 4 MONTHS WITH CLARKE BUT 6 YEARS WITH THEIR FAMILY- DECIDED TO WAKE UP BELLARKE TO TALK TO AND GIVE GUARDIANSHIP TO AND WHY DID THEY DO THAT?

THEY BEEN KNEW

I'LL ACCEPT IT

OK SO WE GET THIS PROMISING FUTURE TOGETHER ON THIS NEW PLANET RIGHT?

WRONG MURDER POLLEN

OK BUT TECHNICALLY BECHO IS STILL TOGETHER. NO PROBLEM - WE NEED TO FIGURE OUR SHIT OUT AND THEN WE'LL HAVE PLENTY OF TIME TO HAVE PEACE AND GET TOGETHER OK SO I'M JUST GOING TO START SAYING "CHORUS" WHEN I MEAN "BECAUSE THESE TWO DUMBASSES CAN'T TALK TO EACH OTHER" IS CHORUS THE RIGHT WORD? OR IS IT REFRAIN? WHATEVER ONE REPEATS - THAT ONE ALL RIGHT SO WE HAVE THEM GOING INTO THE VILLAGE AND EVERY TIME THERE IS DANGER, BELLAMY GOES IMMEDIATELY TO CLARKE WHEN IT'S PEACEFUL, OPE IT'S BACK TO ECHO

(like the husband he is)

I HAVE A WHOLE META ABOUT THAT IF YOU WANT IT BUT SO THEN THE FIRST TIME - LITERALLY THE FIRST TIME SINCE THE MARPER VIDEO - THAT THEY'RE ALONE, IT'S BECAUSE BELLAMY HAS SOUGHT HER OUT AND WHY DID BELLAMY SEEK HER OUT? Y'ALL I'M ONLY AT 6X01. I HAVE SO MUCH AMMUNITION BUT SOMEONE IS WELCOME TO SCREEN SHOT THIS SO THAT THE NEXT TIEM WE HAVE DOUBTS, I DON'T HAVE TO TYPE IT ALL OUT SO WHY DID BELLAMY SEEK HER OUT?

>Y'ALL I'M ONLY AT 6X01. I HAVE SO MUCH AMMUNITION @kate (historyofbellarke) "Give a position show me where the ammunition is" from My Shot just popped into my head lololol

WHY DID BELLAMY LEAVE HIS CANONICAL GIRLFRIEND TO GO SEEK OUT CLARKE?

BECAUSE HE LOVES HER AND ALSO BECAUSE THERE WAS DANGER

OK BUT WHY SPECIFICALLY NOOO WHEN CLARKE WAS IN THE SCHOOL

AND THE LAST TIME SHE WASN'T IN HIS SIGHT SHE ALMOST DIED

OK THAT TOO

Okay I'm lost at this point then.

LOL

Phone a friend.

Bc she sucks and Clarke's the best?

I'LL LET ---- CHIME IN LMFAO I LOVE YOU GUYS KNOW IT'S TO TELL HER THAT HE KNOWS ABOUT THE CALLS

OH THAT SCENE

HE KNOWS THAT SHE CALLED HIM EVERY DAY FOR 2,199 DAYS HE SOUGHT HER OUT, BY HERSELF, TO TELL HER THIS

YES YES

BUT BECAUSE CHORUS

WE'RE BACK THESE FUCK HEADS CAN'T HAVE A CONVERSATION

SHE GOT NERVOUS AND DUCKED OUT BECAUSE IT'S BEEN LESS THAN 3 WEEKS SINCE HE CAME BACK AND SHE'S OVERWHELMED BECAUSE HOLY FUCK WHAT A 3 WEEK PERIOD THAT WAS (REFER BACK TO TIMELINE AS NEEDED) ALL RIGHTY SO THEN AFTER THAT THEY FIND OUT ABOUT THE RED SUN WHICH BY THE WAY IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE THINGS BECAUSE HE CALLS OVER ECHO JUST TO PROMPTLY IGNORE HER COMPLETELY [AND BECAUSE IT'S ME, I HAVE A GIFSET FOR THAT] SORRY I GOT DISTRACTED

NO WE'RE HERE FOR THE GIFSET

I'M LOOKING OK IT'S PART OF THIS SO YOU GET A 2 FOR 1 https://historyofbellarke.tumblr.com/post/184827185143/bellarke-danger-vs-becho-safety OK NOW I FORGOT WERE I LEFT OFF OH YEAH IGNORING ECHO ALL RIGHT SO THEN WE HAVE EVERYTHING GO TO SHIT AND OF COURSE, BELLARKE LOCK THEMSELVES TOGETHER AND WE HAVE THE ANGST THE ANGST BUT THEY HAVE EACH OTHER'S KEYS

WHICH IS A MARRIED MOVE IF I EVER HEARD ONE

BECAUSE THEY HAVE THE KEY TO MY HEART, WHEREVER YOU ARE, I'LL KEEP YOU

That's a very comprehensive gifset

IF YOU DON'T KNOW THAT SONG THEN I FEEL OLD SO YOU HAVE THEM UNLOCKING EACH OTHER BECAUSE OF COURSE THEY ARE

I might drift in and out of conversation, partner wants attention but I wanna finish reading this asdfgh

AND HE'S LIKE "NAH ECHO, WIFEY AND I GOT THIS. WE GOTTA TAKE CARE OF OUR KIDS." TELL THEM TO WAIT THEIR TURN SO THEY'RE GOING LITERALLY PSYCHOTIC BUT THAT'S COOL. I TRUST THE OTHER ONE ENOUGH TO NOT KILL ME BUT OH WAIT - WHAT IS BELLAMY'S PSYCHOSIS ?

Not needing Clarke anymore...?

YUP WHICH MEAN S

He needed her and knew it at some point

YUP ALSO I FOUND THAT GIFSET THAT I IDD TO THAT SONG https://historyofbellarke.tumblr.com/post/184725894498/this-song-popped-into-my-head-and-i-had-to OK SO SKIPPING AHEAD, HIS BIGGEST SECRET IS THAT HE DOES STILL NEED HER OK EVEN I'M STARTED TO GET BORED SO I'LL GIVE BULLET POINTS FROM HERE ON OUT SO WE HAVE HIM NEEDING HER HIM CALLING HER THE LEADER EVEN THOUGH SHE HASN'T BEEN FOR LIKE 6 YEARS AND WE HAVE HIM PINING OVER HER AT THE DANCE FLOOR AND PICKING A FIGHT WITH ECHO OH YEAH AND WE SEE ALL THE BECHO CRACKS HERE

This has been a v good rundown, I won't lie.

LOL

ONWARD I'M BACK ON TRACK

WE HAVE JUXTAPOSED: ECHO NOT KNOWING WHAT TO SAY WITH REGARDS TO OBUT CLARKE KNOWING EXACTLY WHAT TO SAY EVEN AFTER 6 YEARS

BECAUSE WIFEY

https://historyofbellarke.tumblr.com/post/618426948212965376/historyofbellarke-4-times-someone-knew-the-right

Really you'd think the spy would know what someone wants to hear smh

NAH BECAUSE SHE HAS NO EMOTIONAL EMPATHY. WE'LL GET TO THAT EVENTUALLY

She's also kinda a shit spy. Like when has she ever done actual spying.

Y'ALL I HAVE A GIF FOR EVERYTHING. I'M THE LIZ WARREN OF BELLARKE GIFS GIFSETS AT LEAST

You don't need empathy to fake it, Madison's right she's just such a bad spy :joy:

I'VE GOT NOTHING ON ---- FOR JUST GIFS LOLi

I say this as someone who was 10/10 a spy in a past life at least according to my recurring dreams about it1

OK SO THEN WE ALSO HAVE BELLAMY SIDING WITH CLARKE AT EVERY TURN, OVER ECHO'S EXPLICIT OBJECTIONS AND WE HAVE HER NOTICINGGGGGG WE'RE HERE FOR THIS CONTENT

https://historyofbellarke.tumblr.com/post/185265380768/6x04-bec-scene-follow-up-with-6x05 JUST ONE EXAMPLE

HATE TO SEE IT

SO WE HAVE BELLAMY CLEARLY SHOWING THAT HE'S HER LEADER - WHETHER HE MEANS TO BE OR NOT - WHICH COMES IN IN 7X01

Total aside but now I want a modern au where Bellamy doesn't know how to break up with Echo so he tries to ghost her while everyone around him is pulling their hair out

OH SHIT ONE SECOND I HAVE TO DO DUOLINGO SO I DON'T LOSE MY STREAK BRB

>Total aside but now I want a modern au where Bellamy doesn't know how to break up with Echo so he tries to ghost her while everyone around him is pulling their hair out ---- I love this, actually. WE SHALL HOLD YOUR SPOT

No one in this goddamn canon knows how to have an actual breakup conversation they only know how to die

CORRECT CHORUS

BECAUSE THESE TWO DUMBASSES CAN'T TALK TO EACH OTHER

Ironically Raven and Finn are the only ones who have had a half-normal breakup.

Will be back, partner is dramatically exclaiming that I don't love him anymore bc I won't go give him a goddamn hug bc the meta's too good

BOOM OK I'M BACK

SIDE NOTE BEFORE WE'RE BACK

GO ON

What language are you learning on Duolingo?

relearning spanish and then german german for work, spanish because i used to be fluent and i'm so bad now xp

This entire convo is a chaotic mess

We are a chaotic mess.

WELCOME TO THE HELLMOUTH, ----

Our ship is a chaotic mess.

It all tracks, honestly.

WE WOULD'VE ALL BEEN SO MUCH BETTER OFF IF JASPER HAD DESTROYED THE CHIP OOK SO MOVING ON NOW I FORGOT WHERE I LEFT OFF OH YEAH LEADER PERF SO OH YEAH I FORGOT TO ADD - 6 & 7 ARE ONE SINGULAR SEASON SO

This convo should totally be convered into a Masterclass session at the end. YES

WE'VE GOT A RUNNING THREAD OF ECHO BEING A FOLLOWER OF BELLAMY AND HER KNOWING IT

6/7 ARE ONE SEASON WE'RE HERE WE'RE LIVING

BUT BACK TO S6 SO WE HAVE BELLAMY BEING THE FIRST TO REALIZE THAT CLARKE WANS'T CLARKE AND WE HAVE THIS BEAUTIFUL MOMENT

I’m here and all of this is glorious

OH YEAH THERE'S ALSO THIS BUT I DIGRESS https://historyofbellarke.tumblr.com/post/618548726524510208/historyofbellarke-5x09-6x04-6x05 THE FIRST ONE HERE - https://historyofbellarke.tumblr.com/post/616075629201408000/just-some-clips-ofabout-bellamy-where-either HE'S WILLING TO RISK EVERYTHING EBCAUSE CLARKE MIGHT BE AT RISK EVEN THOUGH THEY LITERALLY HAVE NO WHERE ELSE TO GO OH YEAH FUCKING MURPHY - I'LL GET BACK TO HIM ALL RIGHT SO THEN WE HAVE BELLAMY FIGURING IT OUT AND THE HORROR BLOOMING IN HIS SOUL AND THEN WE HAVE HIM LITERALLY WITH A ROOM DESTROYED EVERN THOUGH HE IS CHAINED UP LIKE SERIOUSLY HOW DID HE MANAGE THAT AND THEN TRY TO KILL RUSSELL THE SECOND HE COULD BECAUSE HE HURT CLARKE EVEN THOUGH, AGAIN, THAT'S THE ONLY WAY HE AND HIS PEOPLE COULD SURIVVE BUT WITHOUT CLARKE, HE'S NOT ALIVE. HE ONLY SURVIVES AND HOW DO WE KNOW THIS? BECAUSE HE FUCKING SAYS IT (implicitly)

I just came into this. I have nothing to add I just want to say I’m living for it

:heart:

Agreed, this conversation is giving meaning to my insomnia :joy:

https://historyofbellarke.tumblr.com/post/618973621000585216/just-a-reminder-that-bellamy-canonically-only

WHOLE F*ING THING ON SURVIVING VS LIVING AND THEN ONCE HE DECIDES THEY'RE GOING TO LIVE (AND LET RUSSELL LIVE) BECAUSE IT'S WHAT CLARKE WOULD'VE WANTED, HE SAYS "WE SURVIVE" LOOKING LIKE THE SADDEST FUCKING PUPPY IN EXISTENCE AND DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THE FACT THAT WE HAD A WHOLE DAMN EPISODE OF A 13 EPISODE SEASON DEVOTED TO BELLAMY SUFFERING BECAUSE HIS WIFE DIED AGAIN 3 WEEKS AFTER SHE WAS RESURRECTED SUBTLE, JASON. SUBTLE. OK NOW BACK TO MY BELOVED COCKROACH MURPHY AND BELLAMY ARE ARGUABLY THE TWO CLOSEST NON-ROMANTIC (:upside_down:) PEOPLE ON THE SHIP THE RING RIGHT? OK WE'RE GOING WITH IT ANYWAY

Hmmm yes(I agreee) but also Clarke and Murphy have that understanding that transcends words?

THEY ARE THE CLOSEST ROMANCE WITHSTANDING ON THE SHIP

AND MURPHY, MY BELOVED MURPHY, HAS BEEN THERE FROM "I'LL CHOP HER HAND OFF" TO "OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK CLARKE IS UNCONSCIOUS AND I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO" TO "YOU'RE NOT THE ONLY ONE HERE SAVING SOMEONE THEY CARE ABOUT"

BECAUSE BELLAMY DOES NOT EVEN KNOW ECHO'S ACTUAL NAME AND THEREFORE THEY ARE NOT CLOSE

LOL SO MURPHY AFTER 6 YEARS IS TRYING TO GET BELLAMY TO DO SOMETHING HE WANTS (WE'RE BACK IN SEASON 5 NOW, SORRY) AND HOW DOES HE DO THAT?

AND INVOLKES MOM'S NAME

BLESSED BE "WELL IF CLARKE WAS HERE" BELLAMY ESPLODES OK SO NOW WE HAVE MURPHY AGAIN WHO KNOWSSSS AND WHAT DOES HE SAY TO JOSIE? ABOUT BELLAMY

If Clarke is dead Bellamy will kill us all HE KNOWS

BAM ALSO, REFER BACK TO PREVIOUS GIFSET, SAME MURPHY "OH YEAH I'LL TRY TO HELP ECHO TOO" BECAUSE MURPHY KNOWSSSS OOK THAT'S ALL FOR MURPHY NOW SO WE HAVE BELLAMY "WE'RE GOING TO SURVIVE BECAUSE I CAN'T LIVE WITHJOUT CLARKE BUT I'M GOING TO ONCE AGAIN HONOR HER FUCKING MEMORY" UNTILLLLLL WHAT HAPPENS

lol @ Murphy having to remind Bell his gf exists hahahah UNTIL HIS SOUL REALIZES CLARKE IS ALIVE

BUT HOW DOES HE REALIZE THAT

BECAUSE YOU CAN'T CONVINCE ME HE KNEW IT WAS MORSE CODE BECAUSE OF EARTH SKILLS NO

HE KNEW IT WAS MORSE CODE BECAUSE HIS SOUL FUCKING KNEW HIS WIFE WAS ALIVE

Yesss

PLATONIC SOULMATE MY ASS JASON

Morse code is life

[okay rant over, continue Kate]

MILLER'S FACE WAS LIKE "YOU FUCKING WHAT MAN?"

(side note- i am getting alive in morse code on my wrist when covid clears) OK SO WE'RE BACK SO WE HAVE JOSIE TAPPING HER FINGERS

Oh I love that I have friend who has that tattoo

YES TAP TAP MILLER GOING WTF BELL GOING ALL GIDDY PUPPY WITH A BONE

WHICH MEANS BELLAMY HAD TO HAVE GONE BACK TO HIS FAMILY AND SAY "OK WE'RE GOING TO RESCUE MY DEAD WIFE. SHE'S ALIVE. IKNOW BECAUSE JOSIE WAS TAPPING HER FINGERS." AND THE FAMILY HAD TO GO "YEAH OK THAT MAKES SENSE."

AND NO ONE QUESTIONED IT BECAUSE THEY BEEN KNEW

Yessss

SO WHAT ARE THEY GOING TO DO? LIKE IT WAS EVEN A QUESTION. THEY'RE RESCUING CLARKE AND BY THEY'RE I MEAN HE BECAUSE HE DOES NOT GIVE A FUCK ABOUT THEM AT THE MOMENT SO HE'S LIKE "READY OR NOT, I'M RESCUING MY WIFE. BYEEEEE" AND JORDAN'S LIKE "WHAT ABOUT PRIYA?" AND EVERYONE'S LIKE ".... SORRY BRO. CLARKE. YOU WANTED HEART BELLAMY. YOU GOT HIM." SO HE GOES, LEAVING HIS FAMILY BEHIND WITH A BUNCH OF PSYCHOPATHIC MURDERERS WHO KNOW THAT BELLAMY IS GOING TO KILL THEIR DAUGHTER BUT HE'S JUST LIKE... BYE AND HE KNOWS, AND WE KNOW THAT HE KNOWS, BECAUSE JOSIE TAUNTS HIM ABOUT IT THE WHOLE TIME BECAUSE JOSIE IS THE AUDIENCE BASICALLY

JOSIE IS US BUT SLIGHTLY MORE PSYCHOTIC

ALL RIGHT SO SKIPPING AHEAD, SKIPPING AHEAD, YOU HAVE JOSIE'S WHOLE RUN DOWN OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP

TOGETHER

AND HIS VERY LONG PAUSE FOLLOWED BY "I WON'T LET YOU DIE"

EXHAUSTING

INSTEAD OF I FUCKING LOVE YOU BECAUSE CHORUS SO WE GET CLARKE BACK THROUGH SHEER FORCE OF BELLAMY'S WILL

>AND HIS VERY LONG PAUSE FOLLOWED BY "I WON'T LET YOU DIE" @kate (historyofbellarke) "I LOVE YOU, BITCH. I AIN'T EVER GONNA STOP LOVING YOU, BITCH."

"I'LL SHAVE THE BEARD" SO WE HAVE CLARKE WHO GAVE UP LIVING BECAUSE SHE THOUGHT BELLAMY GAVE UP (REMEMBER, JOSIE SHOWING HER THE MEMORY OF BELLAMY SAYING WE'LL TAKE THE DEAL) AND THEN CLARKE COMING BACK TO LIFE BECAUSE BELLAMY WOULDN'T GIVE UP AND THEN WE HAVE OCTAVIA, MY BROTHER POISONED ME FOR HIS WIFE AND I STILL RAISED MY NIECE ON STORIES OF EPIC BELLARKE, BLAKE IN THE BACKGROUND BEING ALL OF US

>SO WE HAVE CLARKE WHO GAVE UP LIVING BECAUSE SHE THOUGHT BELLAMY GAVE UP (REMEMBER, JOSIE SHOWING HER THE MEMORY OF BELLAMY SAYING WE'LL TAKE THE DEAL) @kate (historyofbellarke) OMG I HAVE A SPEC ABOUT THIS I HAVE A SPEC ABOUT THIS BUT IMMA WAIT TIL WE'RE DONE TO POP INTO SPEC TO TALK IT OUT OKAY CONTINUE

i'm going to keep going, but have i done a pretty good job of convincing anyone who was wavering? because remember this is all canon. i have done absolutely no spec-ing at all.

I'm very hype rn. Ngl.

lol

Could flip a tire for Bellarke rn kind of hype

OK SO NOW CLARKE IS ALIVE BUT OH FUCK, THE REST OF THE FAMILY IS IN TROUBLE WE LITERALLY HAD MURPHY, MY BLESSED MURPHY, SHOW UP TO GO "YO. YOUR GIRLFRIEND." AND BELLAMY GO https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/591463308117278720/716493560610029708/tumblr_pv4mkld49N1xsmktho1_500.gif SO OF COURSE, IT'S NOT TIME TO TALK BECAUSE CHORUS

DUMBASSES NO TALKIE

SO WE GET EVERYONE FIXED. A BUNCH OF UNNECESSARY PLOT SHIT HAPPENS. AND THEN BELLAMY LITERALLY PUSHES HIS GIRLFRIEND OUT OF THE WAY TO GO AND DO A DRAMATIC SUNSET REUNION WITH HIS WIFE AND THEN PLOT SHIT PLOT SHIT PLOT SHIT WE'RE IN S7 AM I MISSING S6 STUFF? PROBABLY BUT Y'ALL IT'S LITERALLY BEEN 4 WEEKS IN CANON AT THIS POINT AND I MISSED A LOT OF SHIT. SO Y'KNOW. OUR BABIES ARE TIRED N AND NOW WE'RE ALL GOOD RIGHT? JUST GONNA GO HAVE A QUICK MEETING WITH GABRIEL AND THEN GO BACK TO MY WIFE SO WE CAN TALK OVER SOME TEA THEN BAM, O GETS STABBED AND THEN WE HAVE . 4 EPISODES THAT HAPPEN OVER 2 DAYS BEFORE CLARKE'S LIKE "WELP. I'M THROWING MYSELF HEAD FIRST INTO A WORM HOLE TO GO GET MY HUSBAND AND HIS STUPID GIRLFRIEND." AND YOU HAVE EVERYONE ELSE GOING "I'M SORRY, DID YOU THINK ANYTHING ELSE WAS GOING TO HAPPEN?" AND FOLLOWING AND THE S6/7 WRITERS MOSTLY JUST CHOSE TO IGNORE THAT S4/5 WRITERS GAVE CLARKE A DAUGHTER BECAUSE, WELL, I DON'T BLAME THEM EVEN THOUGH I LOVE MADI SHE'S AN UNNECESSARY COMPLICATION SO HAND WAVING SHE'S FINE SO NOW WE'RE UP TO PRESENT

Fully convinced Madi was there to ensure Clarke didn't go fully insane on Earth and provide motive for that bitch slap scene from S5.

brb spilled beer

Oh, and to parent trip Bell/Clarke.

>brb spilled beer @kate (historyofbellarke) makes sense after the tea you're spilling on this channel

Someone really oughta document this convo for a later date. lol We will need to reference it before end of the season, bet. lol

blesss i do not deserve my partner he told me to go sit down and is cleaning it also i went to finish the last of the unspilled stuff and promptly spilled it down my chest so ALL RIGHT WHERE WERE WE OH YEAH AND BELLAMY FORGAVE HER BECAUSE MADI WAS LIKE "YO YOU'RE A PARENT TOO AND REMMEBER SHE STOOD BY YOU WHEN YOU PUT OCTAVIA ABOVE LITERALLY EVERYTHING" AND BELLAMY WAS LIKE "OH... SHIT." AND THEN SHE WAS LIKE "SHE CALLE DYOU EVERY DAY YOU DUMBFUCK" AND YOU HAVE THE PATENTED "OMG, DOES CLARKE HAVE FEELINGS FO RME TOO???" JAW DROP BUT NOW BACK TO PRESENT

(Now if someone will just fucking tell her that he did the equivalent grant gestureTM of the radio calls except w/ poison)

i didn't even include the fact that he fucking poisoned O, that diyoza referred to her as his girlfriend, etc etc etc OH AND AS TO WHY HBECHO ISN'T GOING TO BE A HTING ANYMORE BESIDES EVERYTHING I'VE SAID

FINN COLLINS THAT'S WHY

BASUCALLY YES

FINN COLLINS EXCEPT AT LEAST CLARKE KNEW HIS REAL NAME

THEY DID A LITERAL EXACT PARALLEL BETWEEN BELLAMY AND ECHO SPFEIHOi4ur YES LIKE IT'S LIKE THE WRITERS FOUND BESTOFBECHO AND WENT "FUCK, ARE WE NOT BEING OBVIOUS ENOUGH? TIME TO CALL IN ZACH MCGOWAN" ( THEY FUCKING GOT ZACH ON A PLANE FROM LA TO VANCOUVER TO JUST SAY "YOU DON'T LOVE HIM" LIKE I DON'T THINK PEOPLE REALIZE HOW INVOLVED OF A PROCESS IT IS TO GET AN ACTOR THERE - ESPECIALLY IN CANADA WHERE YOU HAVE TO BALANCE NON-CANADIAN WITH CANADIAN ACTORS OR YOU CAN'T SHOOT IN CANADA SO THIS AMERICAN HAD TO BE TAKEN INTO ACCOUNT FOR THE WHOLE SEASON FOR A 2 MINUTE APPERANCE BUT THE WRITERS WERE LIKE "YO HUGE NEON SIGN RIGHT HERE" AND THEN SHE CONTINUED ALL SEASON IN THAT VEIN UNTIL 7X05 WHEN SHE BROKEEEEE OVER HIS "DEATH"

BECAUSE HER SOUL DIDN'T KNOW HE WAS ALIVE LIKE BELL DID CLARKE

AND DID THE EXACT SAME FUCKING THING BELLAMY DID WHEN HE FOUND OUT CLARKE WAS ALIVE

And also as mentioned, she's a shit spy.

BECAUSE THE WRITERS ARE LIKE "CAN WE MAKE IT MORE OBVIOUS? I'M NOT SURE HOW!" so now we're at present day and here's a bit of crack spec-ing

THANKS FOR THIS LONG ASS META !!

YOU ARE WELCOME once again if i put that amount of effort into my dissertation, i'd be a phd with a published book or 3

This was a joy to read An utter joy This reaffirmed all my beliefs and got rid of all doubts I had

https://tenor.com/view/about-to-ugly-cry-ugly-cry-emotional-sensitive-crying-gif-8033343 i aim to please so now we have that O/B scene so we as the audience know something is off. bellamy was dragged sobbing and unconscious by his captors to suddenly being awake, fine, and killing a bunch of trained soldiers and holding someone hostage with his left hand. so then you have O, noticing something isn't quite right, casually bringing up clarke's name clarke. fucking. griffin. who bellamy had JUST brought back from the dead after learning she was alive and he's just... calm? about O possibly doing something with these psychos that's related to clarke? HE JUST POISONED HIS SISTER LIKE A WEEK AGO TO SAVE CLARKE'S LIFE i cannot stress this enough. bellamy fucking blake would not just go "huh?" when O, his sister that he's barely tolerating, goes "i'll tell you, you psychotic cultists, everything about my sister-in-law" and that's it. that's where i'm at s6 was about bellamy literally pulling clarke back from death s7 will be about clarke literally crossing time and space to get back to bellamy THIS IS AN EPIC FUCKING LOVE STORY AND ANYONE WHO THINKS OTHERWISE IS WRONG AND NOW I'M GOING TO TAKEA . SHOWER BECAUSE I SPILLED BEER ON MYSELF BUT I WILL BE BACK also i didn't think iw as drunk but then i reread that and started crying so it's definitely shower time

#bellarke #bellarke meta #the 100 #anti bech #anti ech #blarke wine club #long post

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taexual · 5 years

Text

HOLIC - 41 | jb x reader

pairing: Im Jaebum x Reader

genre: enemies to lovers au | roommate au

warnings: mostly angst

words: 4.6k

disclaimer: i do not own the gif, please let me know if it belongs to you, so i can give proper credit

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With every day following Jaebum’s dinner with his new agency, his mood kept getting better and better. You loved hearing him sing whenever he was too occupied with whatever he was doing to realize that he wasn’t alone in the room and you loved catching him smile to himself when you were hanging out, even if you were watching a depressing movie.

He was happy. Overjoyed and blisful, even – and you loved everything about it.

But you hated that you couldn’t match his mood.

You still hadn’t told him about the contract you’ve signed and all that it implied. Not because you didn’t want to – well, actually, you didn’t, but this was something you felt like you had to do despite your wishes – but mostly because you’ve never seen Jaebum this happy this many days in a row, and breaking that streak felt like a crime you’d have to go on death row for. You weren’t ready for that.

“How is the planning going?” Jaebum asked you one night when the two of you found yourselves in the kitchen, preparing to have dinner together after work. He was the one doing all the cooking, though, while you sat by the kitchen island, your laptop in front of you; both of you in your usual positions. “For the exhibition, I mean.”

“Oh,” you’d been relatively quiet about the upcoming exhibition, blaming the sudden workload at your own gallery, but you knew you couldn’t escape from talking about it. “It’s… going. I actually haven’t heard from them much. And I didn’t call them myself because I’ve been busy and—”

His phone started to ring. It’s been doing that a lot the past few days and it always rang mid-conversation. Almost as if whoever was calling him waited until you and Jaebum had started to talk so they could dial. You didn’t mind it this time, however, because it saved you from a very awkward and clumsy half-lie.

Somehow, you found yourself suddenly living your whole life inbetween ill-timed phone calls and more and more half-lies.

Sighing, as you waited for Jaebum to finish his call in the hallway, you closed your laptop and decided to take over his job of chopping the vegetables while he was busy.

As soon as you finished with the carrots and moved onto the cabbages, he was back in the kitchen, beaming. God, you’d have been jealous he was doing so well if you weren’t so incredibly happy to see him happy.

“Good news, I’m hoping?” you encouraged.

He nodded. “They want to release “Don’t Touch Me” as a single with an actual music video accompanying it.”

“Oh, God, your debut music video!” you exclaimed, putting the knife down before you hurt yourself because you could not bother looking at the vegetables when Jaebum was standing in front of you, all smiles and glittering eyes. “Do they have any ideas for it? Any particular plot-lines? Shit, this could be your debut as an actor, too.”

“I’m sure they’ll come up with something if I don’t think of anything myself,” he answered, laughing and taking your previous seat by the island. You rotated positions around each other so effortlessly, it felt as though you’d cooked dinner together your whole lives. “But I have the honor of living with a photographer, so I’m hoping she will be the one who tells me if my ideas are too awful to even consider.”

“Hmm,” you grinned. “That sounds quite convenient. Lucky you.”

“Lucky me, indeed,” Jaebum replied with a matching smirk and then leaned over the island to press a kiss to your cheek before standing up to turn the stove on. “Listen, uh—”

“Can you hold on for a moment?” you cut him off, feeling your phone vibrate in your pocket. Of course, you’d get a call right when he had something to tell you. “Someone’s call—oh.”

Jiho had finally reached out. You dipped out of the room – narrowly avoiding Jaebum’s surprised glance at your phone; he was just alarmed by the sudden crestfallen note in your voice when you noticed the caller’s ID – to take the call. You felt guilty immediately after, though. If you’d answered Jiho’s call in Jaebum’s presence, that would have given you an opening to begin the difficult conversation and explain what you had to do in order to get your exhibition.

Clearly, you were still unprepared for that.

“Yeah?” you answered breathlessly once you were in your room, the racing of your thoughts exhausting you not just mentally but physically, too.

“Hi,” Jiho said on the other end of the call. “Is this a bad time?”

You weren’t sure if there was a right time when it came to him.

“No, it’s fine,” you replied.

“Good. I’ve got an appearance for us,” he said it in a grandiose tone, making it seem as though he was announcing that the two of you were about to headline Coachella. “It’s nothing big. One of my friends – well, alright, acquaintances as of right now, but I’m thinking ahead – is hosting this dinner and I’ve been invited with a plus one. Lots of my colleagues are also attending, and I thought, what’s a better way for you to begin your introductions?”

Dinner was an intimate affair, no matter how many people were in attendance or where it was hosted. It involved a group of people sitting closesly at a table, having hushed conversations over glasses of fancy liquor and plates of food you couldn’t even begin to guess the names of. You hadn’t expected that – you’d only considered photography exhibitions to be the ‘public appearances’ mentioned in your contract.

“Uh,” you stammered, losing your train of thought for a moment. “W-when is it?”

“Tomorrow night.”

“It’s tomorrow?” you repeated, surprised. “Is it—will I always be notified of the events I have to attend with you one day before they happen? Because a heads-up would be nice, I might have plans—”

“This is your job,” Jiho said, and although his words were meant to chastise you for even considering turning him down, he still managed to sound laid-back. The indifference in his voice made your skin crawl – he had to have been acting and you dreaded to think what he really wanted to say. “Surely, you can cancel plans for it.”

“I—”

“But I understand,” he added before you could cut in. “Admittedly, I wasn’t planning on going at all but, after some consideration, I decided this would be a great way for you to get acquainted with some of the more prominent names in photography. I won’t call you about this at the very last minute again. This was my bad. Then again, this dinner is more for you than it is for me or the gallery, so I’d take this chance if I were you.”

You bit your lip. “So, this is a freebie, then? It’s not an official public outing?”

“Don’t worry,” Jiho sounded amused now. “It’s both.”

Getting through the dinner with Jaebum was suddenly a chore because, in your mind, you were already dining with Jiho and the people he’d called his colleagues. In all of the time that you’ve lived with Jaebum, never once did you find your mind wandering out of the room he was in, so this was as unusual for you as it was for him.

“You seem distracted,” Jaebum pointed out when he’d already cleaned his plate and you were still toying with the arugula leaves on yours. “Is everything alright? What was that call about?”

“Nothing, it’s fine,” you said automatically. “I’m just thinking.”

“Not about me, I suppose?”

You raised your eyes to meet his grin and instantly felt the corners of your lips stretch into a matching smile. You looked down to get yourself together and then dared to speak, “can I ask you something? It's kind of weird.”

“Sure,” he shrugged his shoulders.

“What are the lengths you’re willing to go in order to make it as a singer?”

He hesitated as soon as he heard the question. You did warn him that it was going to be weird but he was still confused and not quite sure what you wanted to hear from him.

“What do you mean?” he asked slowly.

“I mean…" you started and then stopped abruptly. You didn't actually know what you wanted to him to tell you, either. "I mean, how far would you consider stepping out of your comfort zone to advance your career?”

Jaebum looked around the room before answering, “well, as far as I have to, I guess.”

“Yeah?”

“Well, yeah. I don’t think any achievements can be gained inside of the comfort zone," he said. "You always have to step out of what you’re used to in order to do something meaningful, but, I mean, that way your comfort zone stretches, you know? I… I wouldn’t have even considered talking about my music to anyone who wasn’t Jackson, and now I-I’m going on meetings where we do nothing but discuss my music.”

“Right," you nodded, swallowing slowly. Jaebum noticed the awkward expression on your face and was already starting to suspect that you'd expected him to answer your question differently when you changed your approach, "but, I mean, if you were given a chance to reach your goals faster, would you take it?”

He thought the answer was obvious, so he frowned. “How do you mean?”

“Let’s say you’re given the opportunity to succeed with a virtually non-existent risk of failure. Except, in order for that to happen, you have to do something that you are—that you’re not entirely comfortable with,” you explained – albeit so vaguely, Jaebum had trouble following you – while tracing the pattern of the tabletop of the kitchen island.

“If you’re asking me if I’m going to sleep with anyone to get a Grammy," Jaebum said, "then the answer is no.”

“I—okay," you laughed in surprise. "Good to know. I didn’t mean—well, I wasn’t talking about something that extreme.”

“Well, as long as I get to keep my dignity, I’d say I’d do pretty much anything.”

“Dignity,” you repeated.

“Yes. This is—it’s going to sound weird, probably, but I like to think of it as if—I’m standing on stage, accepting an award for my music, right? And I have to give a speech. Well, what do I say – am I confident enough to tell everyone the truth of how I got here, accepting this award, or am I too embarrassed to admit to the things I had to do in order to get here?" Jaebum spoke. "Basically, what I mean is, if whatever I’m considering now is going to embarrass me in the future, I’d rather not do it. Does that answer your question?”

“Yeah,” you replied, not finding the right words to tell him that he didn’t just answer the question you’d asked. He also answered all the questions you’d never even dare to ask. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” he rewarded you with another smile before pointing out, “you still look down, though.”

“I—yeah, sorry,” you shook your head, knowing there was no place for you to hide from him here. “I’m just—”

But Jaebum was reaching conclusions faster than you could explain yourself as he squinted his eyes, interrupting you, “is the gallery asking you to—do you have to do something you don’t want to do for your exhibition?”

You were afraid to keep eye contact with him all of a sudden, so you lowered your eyes and were in the middle of shaking your head when you reconsidered. What was the point of lying again when you’d just been given another perfect opening to come clean about Jiho?

“N-no—not exactly,” you said, your heart rate picking up speed. “I just have to step out of my comfort zone, like you’ve said. That’s surprisingly difficult to do.”

He nodded, understanding. “Do you want to talk about this?”

“I don’t want to bother you with—”

“Hey, no, don’t,” he cut you off again, waving his hand dismissively. “You’re not bothering me. We share a living space, so I’d say it’d be nice if we shared our mind space, too.”

You watched him for a moment, appreciating the gesture even though you’d have rather had him ignore everything you were about to say. “That was deep. Is that a new song lyric?”

“Not yet, it’s not,” Jaebum replied, immediately catching your attempt to change the topic, “but maybe it will be if you tell me what’s making you upset.”

Your entire body was buzzing – shaking – with nervous electricity. You realized you had to talk – you’d never forgive yourself for lying to him – but you still wanted to find a way to tell him the truth without revealing all of the details, even though, by definition, that wasn’t exactly the truth at all.

“I’m going to have to—there are these—I will—oh, fuck,” you shook your head, covering your face with your hands as you inhaled deeply. You appreciated Jaebum’s patience while you gathered yourself. “Okay. I’m going to have to attend these events for a little while. For promotion.”

“Okay,” Jaebum nodded. “After the exhibition?”

“No,” you said. “Before.”

He paused, the next question escaping him. Instead of inquiring further like he’d planned before, now he just waited for you to continue.

Prompted by his confused—and yet curious—face, you sighed and tried to explain, “I’ve been told it’s a prerequisite. Basically, they want my name to be somewhat known among my fellow photographers so they can, I don’t know, guarantee that my exhibition won’t send them into complete bankruptcy or something.”

“That—” Jaebum started to reply and then stopped. “Okay, actually, I don’t know if that makes sense. I don’t know how galleries usually work.”

“Well, my gallery never really provided a similar service,” you said. “But, then again, my gallery doesn’t specify in photography. The only photography exhibitions we’ve hosted were by photographers that were already relatively popular. I don’t know much about this either, to be honest, but, I guess, it does make some sense.”

“Hmm,” he nodded. “So, these events you’ll have to attend are making you uneasy?”

“Yes. More or less,” you replied, choosing to walk around the gaping hole with Jiho’s name at the bottom, instead of diving into it head-first. “I’m just not sure if that’s fair.”

“Why not?” Jaebum asked, picking up one of the arugula leaves off your plate since it was clear that you weren’t going to finish eating them. “It’s not like you’re getting any special treatment or anything. It wouldn’t be fair if they took you in and hosted your exhibition immediately.”

“That’s true,” you bit your lip. “I guess I’m just uncomfortable with the fact that I’ll have to make a name for myself as a photographer by doing things that aren’t exactly photography-related, you know?”

“Wait,” he stopped chewing. “What do you mean?”

You didn’t understand which part he was suddenly hung up on. “W-what do you mean, what do I mean?”

“These events,” Jaebum repeated, a frown on his face. “You said they’re for promotion. What do you mean, they’re not photography-related?”

Before long, the room had started to burn, your entire body seemingly catching fire. You couldn’t help glancing at your bedroom as you wished to escape.

“No, they are. They’re completely photography-related. I-I just meant that I would prefer it if I became more well-known by taking pictures,” you said, your throat drying under Jaebum’s confused—suspicious?—gaze. “And now I’m basically trying to become a socialite before I can try to become a photographer.”

“Huh,” he leaned back slightly and you weren’t sure what to make of that because, although he looked like he appreciated your explanation, he also looked like he didn’t like what he’d just heard. “Why did you agree to do this if you’re not—if you don’t want to?”

“Because this is my only shot,” you said simply.

“Oh, come on, do you genuinely believe that?” Jaebum asked, skeptical. “You’re a talented photographer, have some—”

“—confidence, yeah,” you finished for him, nodding your head along to the words you’ve heard several times already. “I keep hearing that but, the thing is, at the end of the day, it’s not really all about confidence. I could believe in myself like no other and still be none the wiser because confidence doesn’t guarantee success. It’s good to have it, but all it does is just ensures I feel less awful when, eventually, this doesn’t work out and I fall down on my ass.”

“I don’t—that’s a very negative attitude,” he pointed out the obvious because he didn’t really have any counter-arguments. Easing your mind about something you were worried about was, as he’d come to learn, unexpectedly difficult. “If you were more confident, you could become successful all on your own. You wouldn’t need any… prerequisites or whatever you want to call them.”

“I could never do it on my own,” you disagreed right away. “I mean, is that not what I’ve been trying to do this whole time, anyway? Taking pictures—”

“—and then not submitting them anywhere,” Jaebum cut in, “yeah, that’s not really it. If you believed in yourself more, you could absolutely make a name for yourself on your own terms. You could even find a different gallery, maybe one that offered you a deal that was a little more acceptable for you.”

“But no one else got back to me!” you replied, feeling your irritation grow. He’d made it seem so easy as if you’d been beating yourself up about this completely pointlessly. “I emailed, at least, a dozen galleries – and there aren’t even that many photography-oriented galleries in our country to begin with – and only one—this one—contacted me.”

“But they did contact you,” Jaebum insisted, his voice rising as well. “They saw your potential. If you’d tried again, maybe more would respond and—”

“They wouldn’t,” you cut him off, not allowing him to plant any more seeds of false hope in your mind.

“Why not? Why are you so sure that they wouldn’t?” he asked. “It’s moments like this when you need to find more confidence in yourself.”

You wanted to keep on repeating that this wasn’t the case because you firmly believed that, if you hadn’t known Jiho prior to your meeting with him at his gallery, you wouldn’t have heard from them at all. This was about connections. About popularity. About, well, money.

“The galleries don’t need artists with potential,” you said slowly, your hands at your sides now, your fists clenched. “They need artists that can make them profit. And if I’m not known, I can’t bring them money.”

“Yeah, but you can find other ways to make yourself known if you don’t feel like doing it this way.”

“I—do you know how long that’d take?”

Jaebum didn’t think that was a problem. “Well, how bad do you want this?”

“What?” you frowned.

“If you want to succeed bad enough,” he explained, “why does it matter how long it’d take?”

“Did you not just say you’d take the opportunity to jump-start your career if you could?” you asked, realizing that you were only getting so angry because, for the most part, he was right.

You did want to host your own exhibition—very much so—but the fear of never succeeding might have blinded you. Jiho’s opportunity was the only one you’ve gotten in your life and it felt like the only one you’d ever get.

“Well, yeah, but I thought we were talking about doing something that wasn’t conflicting with my morals, or whatever,” Jaebum replied. “It clearly seems like you’re uncomfortable with this, so why put yourself through it?”

Because I don’t want you to leave me behind, you wanted to tell him but held yourself back.

“Because it’s still an opportunity,” you said softly, sounding even less convincing—what were you even trying to convince him of?—than before. “An opportunity that I might not get otherwise. This gallery—it’s great. It’s fantastic, the things they’ve offered me, it’s—wow.”

“And yet, you still have doubts?” he asked.

“I guess.”

“Then maybe this gallery is not right for you.”

That sounded too simple.

“Maybe not,” you said. “But I don’t think I’ll ever find an ideal gallery, all of them are going to include some responsibilities I might be uncomfortable with. I just have to man up and pull through, I guess.”

He sighed before saying, “you guess a lot.”

“Yeah,” you shrugged, having noticed this as well. “I’ve never been in a position like this before. Obviously, I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing, either,” he countered, “but I don’t look like I’m being tortured.”

Somehow, even though he probably didn’t mean it, his words were akin to a painful punch in your stomach. You must have looked like you were getting beaten up by mean bullies on the daily and that was definitely not what a person on the way to success should have looked like.

“That’s right,” you said, the expression of your face suddenly resembling a brick wall. “You don’t.”

“Look—no matter what happens, I’m here for you, okay?” Jaebum continued, more careful this time. He noticed that he must have phrased himself wrong because all light had suddenly gone out of your eyes – and there wasn’t a lot of it there in the first place. “If you decide you don’t want to work with this gallery and would rather wait for a different opportunity—”

“—then what? You’ll hold my hand like I’m a crying child on the first day of kindergarten?”

He was surprised to hear your harsh voice. “I—”

“Shit, sorry, I’m—I didn’t mean to sound so accusing,” you pulled back in your seat, bringing your hands over your face in a desperate attempt to calm yourself down.

“No, it’s okay,” Jaebum said. “I-I don’t really know what to say to help you. You’re better at this than I am. You’re the perfect balance between gentle encouragement and tough love.”

You shook your head, still hiding your face. “No, I’m not.”

“For me, you are. I’m trying to learn how to be the same for you, but, obviously, I’m not doing a very good job,” he spoke and then stopped, waiting for you to look at him. Once you did, however, he looked down. “Whatever you do, I’m here, okay? But tell me if you need me to hold your hand or if you’d rather have me push you towards something you’re not sure about.”

His words were like the quiet shelter in a raging storm that you’d been seeking and yet you didn’t dare to allow them to comfort you just yet. “What if I’m not sure about what I need?”

“Well, then let me just do this,” he stood up and walked over to wrap his arms around your waist and rest his head on your shoulder, before finishing, “and now we can stay like this until you’re sure.”

Feeling the way your heart dropped as soon as he was holding you, you allowed him to overcome your senses as you asked quietly, “what if it’s never?”

“Then we’ll stay like this until we die of starvation,” he replied, pulling away slightly, “let me just grab a chair for myself, too, yeah?”

You chuckled lightly, allowing him to break the hug and sit down next to you instead. His hands remained on you all through this.

“Thank you,” you said, then, meaning it from the bottom of your heart.

“No need,” he replied. “I didn’t do anything.”

“No, you’re here. Thank you for that.”

“I have no choice,” he said. “I live here.”

You groaned with a playful roll of your eyes. “Oh, way to ruin a moment.”

He laughed, pulling you into a hug again. “I’ve told you, I’m learning it all from you.”

Like with most things in your life, your mind tended to focus on the negative instead of sticking with the positive – and the dinner with Jiho was not an exception. You’d survived it, of course, and, if you had to be completely honest, there were even moments when you found yourself enjoying your time there – you couldn’t help but feel starstruck when you realized that you were sitting at the same table with one of the National Geographic photographers – but, at the end of the day, you could not force yourself to say that your night was great. It had its’ moments, but it was not at all great.

You’d had to sit next to Jiho the whole night – and, although that sounded like you were twelve years old and the teacher had forced you to sit next to the boy you’ve disliked more than anyone in maths class, this was not the case at all; Jiho very literally orbited you the entire night, never stepping more than three feet away from you – and, on top of that, you had to endure him cutting up the steak on your plate for you after your shaky hands had accidentally released the knife one time.

Undoubtedly, Jiho acted in an ambiguous way because he wanted the others to get interested – helping a friend out with their meal was nothing short of friendly, of course -- but, at the same time, the close proximity between you two could have easily suggested a more intimate relationship. And his actions towards you were definitely eye-catching because, at the end of the night, when the aforementioned photographer was inviting Jiho to the newest magazine release party in the city – he was, apparently, the author of the cover picture – he asked Jiho to bring you as well.

You were glad to receive an opportunity to attend an event that sounded much more official than this dinner but the fact that you’d only attend it as Jiho’s plus one still clouded your mood. You wanted to go there as a photographer. Not as the girl Jiho had cut her steak up for.

When you got back to your apartment later that night, you took your shoes off in the hall and sighed yet again – somehow, no matter how many times you exhaled, you still couldn’t seem to get rid of the nasty dust that had gathered in your lungs overnight. You were more than ready to head to bed and lose yourself in peaceful slumber where you didn’t have to worry about ruining your reputation before you even developed one, but then you noticed the creak in the door of Jaebum’s bedroom.

It was dark inside but the streelights outside of his bedroom window illuminated his bed enough for you to see his sleeping features through the gap in the door. You’d only approached to close the door so you wouldn’t wake him while you showered and prepared for bed but you stopped short once you saw him.

He was smiling in his sleep.

And just this sight alone was enough to make you smile too, forgetting whatever existential crisis you’d already braced yourself for. For a moment there, it really felt like, even if you’d return to your bedroom later and the previous anxiety and disappointment would return with you, you would make it. You’d pull through because it’d be worth it.

You’d survive anything because you believed that, one day, you’d get to wake up in the middle of the night to see Jaebum’s smiling face right next to yours – and you’d realize you’d been smiling in your sleep, too.

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welllpthisishappening · 6 years

Text

Of Hockey Thighs & Video Game Goals

Emma was distracted. And staring. And it was kind of, sort of, maybe, totally obvious.

She shouldn't have been. But she couldn't really help it. Because those shorts were there, solely, to torture her. She was convinced.

And Killian absolutely, positively knew.

Rating: Like a high teen of straight up staring at thigh muscles. Word Count: 6.2K LoL AN: Ok. Ok. Ok. So this is equal parts the fault of @optomisticgirl and Team USA Hockey and Chris Kreider’s thighs. But there was a video and some, frankly, ridiculous shorts and B was like “You should write this” and made that absolutely fantastic art as incentive and like seriously look at Chris Kreider’s thighs. There are gifs. Anyway, Worlds was the gift that kept on giving and Chris Kreider did the patented “Killian Jones goal celebration” in the bronze medal game and the Google Doc name for this story was “Emma Loses Her Shit Over Killian’s Thighs.” I will eventually post all the other one shots I have written. Also on Ao3 if that’s how you roll.

It should not have been a problem.

It wasn’t.

It was...it was the worst thing she’d ever seen, really. And by worst, she obviously meant best because words seemed to have lost all of their meaning at some indeterminate point that morning and Emma wasn’t sure she’d taken a deep breath in, like, the last ten minutes.

God, this was a problem.

She couldn't stop staring. Her eyes were staring to water, but her eyes simply would not close or blink or do anything except gape her husband, and she kept licking her lips because her mouth was actually hanging open, and that might have just been her body’s innate reaction to try and get some goddamn oxygen in her lungs.

Which was, actually, kind of nice if she stopped to think about it.

At least her body was determined to maintain consciousness.

Killian would lose his mind if she actually passed out in the middle of this thing. And that would take some explaining.

Emma groaned softly, rolling her head in between her shoulders and trying to find a way to stand in the corner of this room without drawing too much attention to herself. And, really, she did have work to do – she was supposed to be watching this whole goddamn event so she could send the video to Merida and there was something about Team USA, but Emma hadn’t really been listening to instructions because she was so distracted.

God.

She was going to burn those shorts he was wearing.

Or, maybe, like, frame them.

God. Again.

This was such a problem.

“Em,” Ruby called, and Emma nearly tripped over her own feet, jumping to attention and slamming her elbow into the wall she’d been cowering against in the process. She grumbled a string of curses under her breath, which wasn’t really helping her under the radar cause much at all, but Emma had more or less resigned herself to the disaster that this afternoon was shaping up to be.

She didn’t thinks he’d ever seen those shorts before. God, why was he wearing shorts? It was the single most distracting thing she’d ever seen.

There was just a lot of muscle.

And, objectively, she knew they were there. He played hockey for a living. It happened. Hockey thighs were real things with real blogs dedicated to them, but now these very specific ones were right there and the shorts weren’t helping and Emma was fairly sure that little indent just above Killian’s knee was actively trying to kill her.

She was staring again.

She was almost positive he was, somehow, flexing – feet propped on the bottom rung of a stool Ruby must have found somewhere because Emma had done absolutely nothing to actually help and maybe they should just tell everyone because then, at least, she’d have some sort of excuse for practically salivating over her incredibly muscular husband.

She really should be spending more time staring at Killian’s thighs.

That was the single weirdest sentence she’d ever thought.

“Emma,” Ruby yelled again, drawing a quiet snicker out of Will who, it seemed, had been roped into camera duty at the same time he was trying to keep Matt distracted.

“Yeah, yeah, here,” Emma mumbled. It didn’t quite ring true though, and her voice shook as much as her hand when she ran it over her face, trying to remember she was a professional with an ever-growing to-do-list and a very enthusiastic two-and-a-half year old and a frantic assistant stateside and, maybe in addition to staring at her husband's absurdly muscular thighs, they should stop having these life-changing kind of moments when they weren't in the continental United States.

It would probably just be easier that way.

“Yeah, you look it,” Will chuckled, wrapping an around Matt’s shoulders before he could try and launch himself at Emma. “Where’d you go?” She twisted her eyebrows. “Excuse me?” “You went all glossy and distracted and your eyes did that tired thing.” “At the risk of repeating myself, excuse me?” “Aw, c’mon,” Will shrugged, glancing around the room like he was looking for backup, but Ruby was trying to get Killian and Robin mic’ed up and there was a league rep somewhere and Roland and Henry had started sword fighting with the pair of discarded crutches in the corner. “You know what I mean,” Will continued. “It’s like you’re making lists in your head.” “Scarlet, can you stop talking about Emma’s head and how many lists she’s absolutely making?” Killian muttered, hissing when Ruby, presumably, pinched his side. “God, Lucas, do you actually have claws for nails?” She flicked his shoulder. “See, you think you’re funny, Cap, but you’re just making this harder for yourself. And Scarlet’s got a point, Em. What’s your deal?” “I have no deal,” Emma promised, and it was a God awful lie. She shouldn’t have been lying in front of her kid like that. It was a bad example. For the future.

Jeez.

She needed to go to bed. And find something to eat. She was starving. She didn’t really want to eat.

This was a disaster.

“You should have practiced that one,” Ruby suggested. Killian shifted on the stool again, which did nothing to help distract Emma from his goddamn legs and the shorts and it felt like the room was on fire. She might have been fire.

Roland and Henry were still sword fighting.

“Shouldn’t you be standing on those?” Emma asked, nodding back towards the crutches, but she didn’t take her eyes off Will or the way he was only kind of balanced on his left foot.

He shrugged. “I mean technically.” “Technically.” “You guys should have some kind of great, big liar competition,” Robin mumbled. “Ah, shit, Lucas, what was that?” “There are children present here, Locksley,” Ruby growled, staring pointedly at Matt and he absolutely did not care. There were video games to watch and another game to get ready for and the Rangers hadn’t made the playoffs, but Killian and Robin had gotten invited to Worlds and maybe this whole gaping at her husband thing started when Emma saw him in a Team USA jersey again.

The whole thing was incredibly cyclical.

“That was for being a jerk,” Ruby continued, widening her eyes in challenge and Robin might have blanched slightly. “Although, I mean, you do have a point.” “Right?” Ruby hummed noncommittally, but she glanced over her shoulder at Emma and her eyebrows might have been the single most judgmental things on the entire planet. Or, at least, in the country of Denmark.

“You’re not nearly as subtle as you think you are,” Emma muttered, and Matt had finally worked out of Wil’s hold. It was probably because Will couldn’t put much weight on his right knee and Ariel would teleport to Denmark and strangle him with her bare hands if he injured himself again. Or if Roland and Henry came home with bruises from his goddamn crutches.

Although she’d probably have to get through Regina first.

Matt, however, did not seem particularly inclined to care about any of that, tugging on Emma’s shirt and bobbing on the balls of his feet and Killian’s eyes kept darting towards her, a flash of concern and question and she really wished he’d put some goddamn fucking pants on.

She could not be expected to think coherent thoughts or properly parent their kid when he was sitting there like that, and staring at her like he was absolutely, incredibly in love with her.

Emma might have been blushing.

And Ruby kept looking at Will.

Cyclical indeed.

“Lucas can we get this show on the road?” Killian asked, and neither Will nor Robin could quite turn their laughs into convincing coughs.

Emma bit her lip.

Ruby’s eyebrows shifted again, a flash of something on her face that made Emma believe they all spent far too much time together. “Uh, yeah, sure Cap,” she said, voice shaking just a bit and smile threatening to practically crack her in half. “I mean, that’s the single most dad thing you’ve ever said, but…”

She trailed off, dissolving into something that was closer to a fit of giggles than the professional demeanor any of them were trying to hold onto.

Emma squeezed her eyes closed, tugging her kid closer to her side, and he didn’t really appreciate that – head colliding with her waist and there wasn’t really any physical evidence of anything yet, but Matt’s jaw came dangerously close to her stomach and Killian’s hitch of breath sounded impossibly loud.

Even when Roland started shouting about low blows and Henry countered with something that sounded like well, defend your weak side, then and Ruby nearly growled when Robin pulled his microphone out standing up.

They were all horrible adults.

“Guys, guys, guys,” Will shouted, but it didn’t hold much threat when he had to hobble towards Henry and Roland, and Robin was still trying to play mediator.

Ruby looked like she might be praying. To some kind of possibly benevolent hockey god who would let them film this goddamn video.

Emma was staring at Killian again.

“God, this was easier when there weren’t so many of us,” Ruby sighed. That didn’t really ring through either though, particularly when she flashed a smile Matt’s direction and Emma resisted the urge to point out she was the world’s biggest pushover for a two-and-a-half year old.

“Ah, that wasn’t a very good lie either, Lucas,” Killian grinned.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll get Em to pencil in practice lying time on those post-it notes I know she’s got all over your room.” “Nah,” Emma objected. “I’ve got it all memorized. I’m way more efficient during this international escapade. Totally learned from my mistakes.”

She was going to shave Ruby’s eyebrows off. Or something less drastic. Like get some food. Or find a chair.

Killian grinned at her. And possibly flexed his left thigh.

Emma wasn’t sure if that was possible.

“Right, right,” Ruby mumbled. “That wasn’t very convincing either, but I honestly do not have time for this and Mer is going to have a meltdown if we don’t get her something within the next forty-eight hours.” “That is a gross exaggeration.” “Yes, it is.” “Oh, wow, I thought there would have been more bantering,” Emma blinked, Matt squirming against her side and she was pleasantly surprised that they hadn’t sustained several meltdowns over not being included in the great crutch battle.

The crutches were back under Will’s arms, Robin rolling his eyes in a put-upon way and he nearly knocked over the stool when he sank back onto it, letting Ruby poke and prod and get the microphone back into place.

“This better not take forty-eight hours,” he warned, clicking his tongue when Ruby swatted at his shoulder again.

“You know,” Will cut in, hooking his head over Roland’s shoulder and he was far too tall for an eleven-year-old. “You guys are coming into this with decidedly garbage attitudes. You’re playing video games for twenty minutes. It will not kill you.” “Probably,” Henry chipped in. He slid down the wall at some point, one leg stretched out in front of him and the other tugged to his chest and whatever he was doing with his face was some weird combination of Killian and Robin that made Emma’s heart practically leap out of her chest.

“It’s a hockey game,” Ruby groaned, pushing a camera towards Will and he nearly fell over. “God, c’mon, Scarlet, take this seriously for two seconds.” “I am!” “No, you are making jokes and quips and Emma’s doing whatever it is her eyes are doing and if Cap stares at her any harder he’s going to snap her in half.” “Yeah, that’s weird, right?” Robin asked. Emma sighed.

And maybe her eyes drifted back towards the goddamn shorts. Honestly, she’d never been more insulted by and attracted to a single piece of clothing in her life.

“Definitely weird,” Henry agreed, grinning when Emma gaped at him. “What? That’s true. And Killian’s really bad at video games.” Robin’s laugh was probably too loud for whatever conference room they were in, but Will almost lost his balance again, mumbling an apology when he nearly fell on top of Roland, and Killian’s eyes widened.

That was almost as distracting as whatever happened to that one muscle in his leg when he tapped his foot.

Emma needed to sit down.

“Ok, if we keep getting distracted with all of this it is actually going to take forty-eight hours and then none of us are going to be able to FaceTime with M’s and David and the cute kid,” Ruby said, staring at them like she was waiting for someone to announce that they didn’t, in fact, want to FaceTime with an only few weeks old Leo Nolan.

Getting to see his sleep-deprived parents was just a bonus.

“And we do have those pesky actual hockey games to play,” Robin added. He twisted his hand in the air, a controller appearing out of seemingly nowhere because the league rep Emma had only kind of forgotten about clearly knew how to apparate.

He handed Killian one as well, quiet instructions about not throwing them and Henry snickered from his spot on the wall, shrugging when Emma narrowed her eyes at him.

“What do you say to a bet, kid?” she asked. Will might have cackled.

Henry tilted his head. “You want to bet on this video game video that’s just supposed to hype up Team USA?” “Yes, exactly that.” “Stakes?” “Your call.” “Oh, that’s a dangerous game, Em,” Will warned, Roland laughing against his side and Matt had lost all interest in Emma's shirt. The league rep only looked slightly affronted when he climbed back on Killian’s lap. No one else was even remotely surprised.

Emma hummed, glancing back her husband and her kid and her mood seemed to swing as often as her desire to eat did, but she was happy and a little exhausted and they should really tell everyone at some point.

Maybe on that FaceTime call.

Mary Margaret would probably cry.

“So,” Emma continued, taking a step towards Henry and sinking down the wall next to him until their shoulders bumped and there was a joke to be made somewhere about time passing and the more things change, the more they stay the same. Or something. “Stakes, kid?”

It took a moment, and his voice was so quiet Emma barely heard him, but her heart might have burst when she finally understood the words.

“If Robin wins, do you think you could read something for me?” Henry asked softly, quiet enough that Emma knew he didn’t want anyone else to hear him. “It’s just...for school and I’m starting to think about places to goand I--”

“--Deal,” Emma interrupted. “If Robin wins.” And no matter, what, she thought, but that was decidedly sentimental and she’d spent most of the day staring at her husband’s thighs, so she didn’t entirely trust her emotions.

There were, of course, rules.

It was a Team USA promo video, but these were still New York Rangers first-liners and there was a bet on the line and they were competitive to a fault. “Ok,” Ruby said, standing in front of the TV screen a different league reap had wheeled in at some point. “You guys are going to play three games. There’s some setting or something that stops the game when you get to a certain score and--” “--Oh my God, Lucas,” Killian laughed, and even Emma couldn’t hold back her laugh. She was slightly worried Henry was going to concuss himself from inadvertently slamming his head into the wall and Roland’s whole body shook against hers when he let his head loll onto Emma’s shoulder. “That was the oldest sentence I’ve ever heard,” Killian continued. “And you were making fun of me before.” “Yeah, well, that’s because you and Em are being weird,” Ruby hissed. “We don’t have time for this, Cap!” “It’s fake pool play, Hook,” Roland explained. He didn’t move his head. “So you and Dad play three games as three different countries and whoever reaches ten goals first in each game wins.”

“Ten goals?” Robin balked. “God, that’s a ton of goals.” “Killian’s not that good at playing,” Henry promised, grinning when the professional hockey player in question rolled his eyes again.

Ruby sighed dramatically. “Guys, I’m serious! We have to get this video to Mer or I really think she’s going to combust on 34th Street and I don’t need that on my conscious right now.” “And you want to make ridiculous faces at Leo Nolan,” Emma knowingly.

“Yeah, well, whatever, you want to keep making eyes at Cap!” “That’s not true!” “Of course it’s not,” Ruby promised, but the sarcasm was practically dripping off her voice and Emma was ninety-two percent positive she was going to combust in the middle of goddamn Denmark. They did not have potato dumplings in Denmark.

Matt was still sitting on top of Killian.

“Alright,” Ruby said, nodding as if that would get back some control of the situation and the now, apparently, half a dozen league reps in the conference room all looked slightly stunned by the incredible normal goings on of the New York Rangers first line. “Can we get back to video games, please?” Robin saluted. Killian grinned.

“Oh my God.”

“I’m assuming you don’t want us to swear on camera, right, Lucas?” Killian asked, but his eyes flickered towards Emma and he totally knew she was staring. He’d absolutely known the whole time. The shorts were probably some kind of ploy.

Although, really, all things considered, that seemed kind of unnecessary at this point.

He smirked at her.

She was going to smack him. With her mouth.

She was way too aggressive.

“No, Cap,” Ruby argued. “I totally want you to swear on camera.” Killian’s eyebrows jumped. “Jeez, no,” she seethed. “Of course not! And there are kids here. Your kid is literally hanging off of you right now. Which, speaking of, come here mini-Jones. You’re going to hang with me while your dad probably loses horribly to Uncle Robin.”

She held her arms out expectantly and it took less than a full second for Matt to climb up her side, head burrowed into the curve of her shoulder.

“First to ten goals wins,” Ruby continued. “Three games, no swearing and, oh, right we’re going to ask some questions while you play so, ready, set go.” “Wait, what?” Killian asked, at the same time Robin mumbled something that sounded a hell of a lot like several different curse words, but Ruby just grinned and moved behind the stools and started talking to the camera Will was still, somehow, holding.

And really Killian was god awful at playing video games.

He kept making ridiculous noises, his whole body moving with the weight of his frustration – which did not help Emma’s attempts to look at anything that wasn’t his goddamn thigh muscle – and Will couldn't stop laughing and Henry and Roland kept muttering running commentary under their breath.

“You’re uh, you’re really seeming to struggle here, aren’t you, Cap?” Ruby asked, hitching Matt further up her side so she could rest a not-quite supportive hand on Killian’s shoulder.

He glared at open air. And gave up another goal.

“How is that even possible?” Killian shouted at no one in particular. “My guy was definitely in the shooting lane.” “You can’t just expect him to block your shot for you, Cap,” Robin grinned. “And I think that means we’re only three goals away from a pretty crushing defeat.”

“You are a God awful trash talker.” “Nah, this is good. Plus, this brings you back to Earth, doesn’t it?” “How do you figure?” “Ah, well, you scored on that breakaway against Germany and it’s all you’ve been talking about because you're trying to show off for Emma, so now you’re a little more grounded and aware of what you’re actually good at.” “Wow,” Ruby muttered. “That was...almost harsh, Locksley.” Robin shrugged, twisting his fingers and, somehow, moving his wrists at the same time he seemed to hold onto the controller tighter and the telltale sounds of the goal horn going off practically exploded out of the TV.

Henry and Roland whooped.

And fist pumped.

“This is ridiculous,” Killian grumbled, eyes finding Emma’s again and she’d started biting her lip at some point. Probably when he moved on the stool and the edge of his shorts twisted slightly and he was right.

It was absolutely ridiculous.

“You’ve got to move quicker, Hook,” Roland explained. “It’s like being on the ice.” “It is not anything like being on the ice. Do not compare it to that.” Robin scored again. And Killian looked like he was getting ready to throw the controller – possibly at several different league reps. “God,” he sighed. “Is this almost over?” “Have you lost your ability to count, Cap?” Robin asked.

“And,” Ruby added. “Can we not lose quite yet? We’ve still got some questions here.” Killian groaned. “Lucas, I can not focus on the game if you are chirping in my ear.” “Ok, first of all, I resent the implication that I am doing anything remotely resembling chirping and, again, I’d like to remind you that this is a league video and while we can edit this out, I need you to at least pretend like you care. Stop staring at Emma, Cap.”

He stuttered at that, eyebrows flying up his forehead and Emma was going to do permanent damage to her lower lip. “I’m not,” Killian mumbled, but it was as good as her lie before and Ruby’s expression didn’t change.

“Sure you not. Alright, question number one, Cap, if you could have one talent that wasn’t hockey, what would it be?” “Is that a joke, Lucas?” “That is exactly the question Emma and I came up with.” It could not have been healthy for Killian’s eyes to get that wide. Or for his mouth to drop open that quickly. Or that far.

He nearly dropped the controller.

“Swan, you wrote these questions?” he asked, and Roland grumbled slightly when she shrugged in response.

“I mean...I knew this was going to happen.” “Me being embarrassed by Locksley at video games?” “No, no, although let’s all be honest with ourselves, Locksley is kind of cheating. He’s definitely banking off Henry and Rol’s knowledge of this game and their probable talent at this game.” “How do you figure?” Robin asked sharply, shouting when his game-winning goal went in and Ruby clicked her tongue in frustration. “There’s still one more game, Lucas. Maybe Cap will almost make it look respectable down the stretch.” “Fingers crossed,” Ruby muttered.

Killian made a face. Emma tried not to smile. “Alright, alright,” he said “Let’s just get this over with. You ever going to put my kid down, Lucas?” “No. You going to answer Em’s question?” It took a second for him to answer – an impossibly long, slightly tense second filled with video game sound effects and a puck graphic hitting a stick graphic and Killian jumped out of the stool when he scored the game’s first goal.

Emma had to put her hand over mouth to stop herself from giggling.

“Take that, Locksley,” Killian yelled, ignoring Robin’s continued trash talk, and he grinned at Ruby when he had to pick the stool up from where it had crashed onto the ground. “And my super sappy answer to your question, Lucas, and Swan,” he added, glancing Emma’s direction. Her lip might have been bleeding. “Is to be a good dad. So remember that when you’re showing off in front of your kids, Locksley.”

Robin blinked, but he didn’t actually say anything and he smiled when he nodded. Emma tried very hard not to cry.

She started staring at Killian’s left thigh again.

“Ah, why’d you have to make it weird, Cap?” Will asked, but Ruby was already shaking her head and they hadn’t actually said anything yet, but she might have been a mind-reader and Emma was exhausted.

And making eyes at Killian.

And he kept trying to get her to sit down.

They were so bad at under the radar.

“Not weird,” Emma mumbled, drawing a quiet noise of agreement out of Ruby. It was difficult to make out when her head was buried in Matt’s back though. “Super sappy, but not weird.” “Ah, well, that was the goal, Swan,” Killian said, another smirk on his face and incredibly blue eyes and he definitely moved his feet to that lower rung on purpose.

He didn’t score another goal and the whole video was a little embarrassing and a little ridiculous and the absolute embodiment of the New York Rangers first line, smiles on their faces and laughter echoing off the walls and Matt fell asleep with his head on Ruby’s shoulder.

And the league reps wanted to talk to Killian and Robin afterwards – thanks for doing this, as if Ruby had given them a choice, and expectations for the game against Finland, and something about America in general with a stuffed animal that was apparently some kind of prize for winning the competition on camera – but Emma’s eyes didn’t leave Killian once, particularly when he turned around and that slight indent in his thigh was even more obvious and--

“You alright, Swan?”

She jerked up, blinking in surprise to find him so close to her and her eyes almost level with his knees and, eventually, Emma would blame that on whatever came out of her mouth next.

And the hormones.

Mostly the hormones.

“God, where did you even get these shorts?” she asked, half shouting the words at Killian’s shins and he arched an eyebrow when she glanced up.

“What?” Emma felt the blush in her cheeks, eyes wide and something else settling in the pit of her stomach that felt a hell of a lot like butterflies and nerves and this should not have been an issue, but the shorts looked good and he looked good and they’d only found out she was pregnant a couple weeks before.

She was stupid attracted to her husband and father of their, soon-to-be, two kids.

“Swan, you’ve got to tell me what you’re thinking, love,” Killian said, crouching in front of her and that was, somehow, even worse. The shorts rode up slightly and she was fairly certain the muscles were actively trying to taunt her at this point.

“You worry too much.” “You make it very easy.” “It’s really not a big deal,” Emma promised, but she could hear the undercurrent of sincerity of his voice and he was as worried as promised. “I just…” “Yuh huh?” “You’re really not making this easy.”

She shouldn’t have been surprised he caught on so quickly, his slight head tilt more than enough proof that he understood what she was talking about, but then he smiled at her and it seemed to inch across his face in slow motion, like that was purposely trying to taunt Emma too and she had no idea where their kid was.

Probably still hanging off Ruby.

“Swan,” Killian said, dragging out her name until she was positive she could feel it. “Are you ogling me in these shorts?” “No.” “Swan.” “No!”

“Emma.” She stuck her tongue out at him. She’d blame the hormones for that too. And he was still crouching in front of her. “Aw, c’mon,” Emma sighed, tugging her hair over her shoulder and the smile was a full-blown grin now that seemed to light some kind of fire in between her ribs. “That is just patently stupid. And really, really unfair. And teasing.” “All of the above, love.” “The mother of your children,” she said, pointing to herself like he wasn’t almost too aware of every single one of her symptoms and how big the baby was, and Killian’s smile shifted, less goading and more endearing and Emma wouldn’t cry.

Probably.

Hopefully.

She wouldn’t have been entirely opposed to making out either.

“And?” Killian prompted, rocking towards her and pulling her hands away from her front. His thumb worked its way under her laces, tapping softly against her wrist, which Emma was also sure was, somehow, cheating, but she was admittedly distracted by the goddamn fucking shorts again.

She was going to write a very strongly worded letter to the Team USA apparel manufacturer.

“And I can’t think when you’re wearing these shorts,” Emma whined. Killian really did do his best not to smile too wide, but there wasn’t much of a point and he was practically some hockey-playing peacock at this point. “Seriously,” Emma continued, voice cracking traitorously when her free hand moved of its own accord, tracing over the curve of his shoulder and the back of his neck and they needed to be anywhere that wasn’t this conference room.

“Seriously what?” “You can’t figure it out?” “I’d really love to hear it.” Killian chuckled when she swatted at his chest, but he also apparently had some kind of deep-rooted athletic response time that existed anywhere except during quasi video game tournaments and his fingers were warm when they caught around Emma’s wrist.

He kissed her knuckles.

“Have your legs always looked like that?”

“What?” “Your legs,” Emma repeated, eyes flitting towards the offending muscle and that was a mistake. She was distracted again. “It’s...a lot.” “A lot.” “God, why do you just keep saying the same thing I’m saying?” “Because that was honestly not what I was expecting, Swan,” Killian admitted. “A pleasant surprise, but a surprise all the same. And I think it’s an occupational hazard. Why are you harping on my legs?” “Thighs, technically. If you want to be specific.” “I would love to be specific.” Emma refused to be held accountable for whatever noise she made at that, but she was tired and kind of hungry and kind of not and only a little frustrated that they weren’t making out or buying forty-two pairs of these shorts so they could live in this moment for the foreseeable future.

He’d moved his hand to her stomach at some point.

“You’re a flirt,” Emma accused, tugging lightly on the front of his shirt and she’d barely gotten the words out before he was nodding in response.

“As previously mentioned love, you are the mother of my children, so I think that’s part of the deal. And you started it with the ogling. If you want to get technical.” She scrunched her nose, but her pulse picked up a bit and Killian’s fingers were moving, tracing absent-minded patterns over the front of the dress. “It wasn’t ogling. It was...an appreciative glance. Or stare. Whatever. Your thigh muscles are absurd.” “I’m going to take that as a compliment.” “It was. And distracting.” “Yeah, I noticed.” “Is that why you were so bad at playing video games?” Killian shook his head, a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat, but he pressed a kiss to Emma’s temple and they needed to be seventy-six other places. They needed to find their kid. “No,” he laughed. “That was the extent of my video game playing talent. Although I am glad you’ll read whatever Henry asked you to read now.” “I would have done that anyway.” “I know that, Swan.” “How’d you hear him?” “Super-sonic hearing. It’s almost as impressive as the thigh muscles.” “Oh my God,” she sighed, but she was kind of charmed by it and he knew that as well as he knew she’d been staring at him all day. “You don’t get to lord this over me forever, you know. This is solely hormone-based.” Killian nodded, but it felt a little placating – particularly when his hand flattened against her and there wasn’t quite a curve there, but the website claimed there was a cherry there now and they were really good at this whole living life thing.

“Noted, Swan,” he promised, ducking down to catch her lips with his and there was the making out Emma had been waiting for.

They were good at that too.

“Can you get off the floor now, love?” Killian asked. “Please?” “I’m going to look up blood pressure facts and send them to you at random times to remind you that caring about your blood pressure is important.” “My blood pressure is perfectly fine.” “But?” “But,” he echoed, standing up and offering Emma his hand. She took it almost immediately. “I think it is well within my rights to worry about my girls.”

“You’re on a sappy, sentimental roll,” she mumbled, stepping into his space and wrapping her arms around his middle and that was mostly so he didn’t see the tears in her eyes, but he was almost too good at reading her at this point.

And he really thought it was going to be a girl.

“Ah, well,” Killian shrugged. He didn’t get anymore out though, a noise from the doorway that was somewhere between a screech and a scream and the audible manifestation of joy.

Ruby’s mouth was hanging open – Matt still clinging to her side and Will behind her with his own slightly stunned expression on his face. Robin was still holding the stuffed animal. It looked a duck. And there was a phone in Ruby’s hand.

“Are you guys serious?” Ruby shouted. “Oh my God, I knew it. I knew it! Scarlet, I win.” “What?” Killian yelled, but Emma didn’t move her head, just tightened her arms and tried to breathe him in and she smiled when he kissed the top of her hair.

Will waved both his hands through the air. “It’s not nearly that bad, Cap, honestly. Just...you know, Lucas and I were guessing. And speculating.” “About me being pregnant?” Emma asked.

Several someones on the phone made noise. A baby cried in New York.

“We had a hunch,” Will reasoned, but Ruby was mumbling we totally knew and Killian kept trying to kiss Emma’s temple, like that was grounding him or something. “Cap keeps trying to get you to sit down, Em. It was like watching history repeat itself.”

“He’s super worried all the time,” Robin added.

“Cyclical, huh?” Emma asked. “Can you tell him to worry about his blood pressure? He won’t listen to me.” “Deal. And,” he continued, holding the duck out expectantly. “I claim the honor of being the first one to gift mini-Jones two-point-oh something. In memory of how bad her dad is at playing video games.”

“Can we get some actual confirmation here?” Mary Margaret asked, voice a bit distorted through the FaceTime call and a distinct lack of sleep.

“Reese’s, shouldn’t you be sleeping?” Emma countered. She was already shaking her head. And Killian’s lips brushed over Emma’s forehead. “Alright, alright, well, we were trying to do this a slightly more normal way this time, but I’m blaming the shorts, honestly.” “What?” Ruby asked.

“Nothing, nothing, nothing. That’s...I’m about two months pregnant.”

There were more shouts and a few more tears and Leo Nolan shrieking from several thousand miles away, but Emma couldn’t stop smiling and Killian couldn’t stop laughing and it was kind of nice in a kind of perfect way – even with history kind of repeating itself.

They almost got kicked out of the conference room, the league reps scandalized by the small party they seemed to be throwing, and Ruby grinned conspiratorially at Emma when she slung an arm over Matt’s shoulder.

“What do you say you come stay with me tonight, mini-Jones?” she asked. “We can give your parents some privacy to make eyes behind closed doors.” “You’re a pillar of support, Lucas,” Killian muttered, but it wasn’t an objection, and Ruby knew she’d won.

“Yeah, I am. Remember that in the future or whatever.” And, several hours later, the goddamn shorts looked better on the hotel room floor.

“I love you,” Emma muttered, hair over several different pillows and possibly in Killian’s face and she practically yelped when he tugged her closer to his side.

“I love you too, Swan. Even after the ogling.” “Oh my God.” “It’s a good word.” “Yeah, whatever.” “A girl, Swan. Absolutely a girl.” “You don’t know that for sure.” Killian made a contradictory noise, moving further under the blankets and tracing the tips of his fingers over her bare stomach. “A hunch. And we’re one for one already, love. Those are pretty good odds to consider.” He didn’t brag, nearly seven months later, when Margaret Elsa Jones arrived with a tuft of black hair and an incredibly impressive set of lungs, but he did smile and kiss the top of Emma’s hair and promised he loved her.

More than anything.

And for a little while Emma almost forgot about the goddamn shorts and the goddamn thigh muscles and how absurdly attracted she was to her husband until she woke up one night to find him slouched in the rocking chair on the other side of the room with a Peggy on his chest – just back from a road trip and there was a now three-year-old draped on Killian’s side of the bed.

Killian wasn’t quite asleep, and there was a stuffed duck under his hip, but his eyelids were fluttering and his fingers were tracing those same patterns they always followed whenever he touched Emma, and her heart felt like it burst when she looked at him, wearing the goddamn shorts with a towel draped over his shoulder.

“You’re staring, Swan,” Killian mumbled, low and gruff and it took a quick moment of cajoling to make sure Peggy didn’t start crying.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “And that was a good goal tonight.” “Ah, well, I knew I had an audience.” “Flirt.” “Always, Swan. Always.”

#cs ff #captain swan #cs #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #blue line one shots #anyway hockey thighs are real #and should be revered

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alittlepronetopanic · 6 years

Text

Someone’s Gonna Rescue You - Part Three

Tick Tock Tick Tock

(Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 4)

A/N: I’m actually so annoyed with myself for how long this has taken to get done. All I can say is that I am ridiculously sorry!! :)

(gif is mine)

Summary: As the time ticks down and with Callen gone off the radar, the team fight to find you and Janvier before Callen does.

(Prompts are found all over so credit to whoever thought of them. Full list of the ones I found are here)

Pairing: Callen x Reader (but it does involve the whole team)

Word Count: 2,426

Warning(s): Bit more angst, being held hostage

Hope you enjoy it! And as always, feedback is appreciated. :)

(Buy me a coffee?)

Callen had barely slept since he left headquarters. Jerking in his sleep, he woke up to realise he was in his car. He was almost annoyed with himself for having slept through any part of this. Taking out his phone, he checked the time that was left 14:02:23. He wouldn’t even know where to begin when it came to finding you. Making his way towards the house you shared, it was a little unnerving to see the yellow crime scene tape outside his own home; he was always used to seeing it outside other people’s, but if was definitely worse seeing it here.

Walking into the house, he hoped that Janvier would’ve left something that gave some kind of indication of where you were. But he knew that he either would do it just to play more games with him, or he wouldn’t be that stupid to begin with. He put one hand close to his back, ready to grab his gun if he needed to. Eventually, he decided he felt safer to take it out and arm himself from the minute he entered his house.

Once he felt satisfied that his house was empty, he put his gun back tucked into the back of his trousers. It suddenly felt strange to him to be in his own house, knowing that things may never be the same again.

He looked around, his house wasn’t filled with a lot of furniture and that’s the way he liked it. On the mantelpiece, Callen noticed a framed photo of the two of you, and takes it of the shelf. Looking at the photo made his eyes glisten with tears, it frustrated him that he didn’t know where you were, that he wasn’t one step ahead of Janvier. Tears slowly began to roll down his cheek as he looked at the picture, he couldn’t help but think about what you were going through and he wondered about every minute you were spending with him. Whether he was hurting you, and if he was, how. Or what he was doing to you. He had to stop thinking about that, he had to focus on finding you and he had to keep his emotions out of it, for now. His moment of deep thought was cut short by his mobile phone ringing, he hoped it wasn’t any of the team, he couldn’t face them right now. He answered the phone, not even paying attention the caller ID.

Heavy breathing comes down the phone, “So we speak again, Agent G Callen.” Janvier says. Callen felt the anger just by hearing his voice. “I have something you probably want back. Am I right?”

“You better not have hurt them, Janvier. Where are you?”

A low chuckle came over the phone, “You think I’m going to make it easy for you?”

Callen bowed his head, he just wanted to find you. He knew Janvier wouldn’t make it easy, but he could barely stand it any more. “Tell me where you are!” he yells followed by Janvier chuckling again, which riled Callen up more. “You want me, you can have me.”

Janvier didn’t answer, he almost didn’t know what he wanted any more; to make Callen suffer? To make you suffer? “That would be too easy, Agent G Callen. You’ll have to find me first.”

“How am I supposed to do that? You haven’t given us much to work with here.”

“I have left clues. You’re just going to have to start looking for them.”

Callen huffed and rubbed his eyes and sighed, “Okay, where do I start?” he asks, expecting a miracle just by even asking Janvier. Another low chortle came over the phone, “Well, let me at least speak to them, let me know they’re –.” the phone shut off before Callen had the chance to finish the sentence and he sighed once again.

Looking around his house, he now knew that there must be something around that had some kind of clue to where you were. He started searching top to bottom for any hints; he’d turn his whole house upside down if he needed to.

Still tied to the chair, Janvier walked around the room. You could faintly hear Callen’s voice at the other end of the phone when he was talking to Janvier, and it briefly gave you something to smile about. As the time started to go down, you started to feel a lot more on edge. It seemed time was either going down too slowly or too quickly, and both of which made you feel more uncomfortable and worried.

You sat and hoped that Janvier would’ve let you talk to Callen, even if it was just one word. You wanted him to know you were still alive, and you wanted to hear his voice, more than anything. With your face still throbbing from the hits that Janvier’s minion kept striking you and they kept coming; every hour, on the hour. Looking back at the time that still presented itself, 13:32:59.

Watching the time tick away became much more unnerving, especially with almost half the time gone. Janvier pacing the room wasn’t helping. You just wished the team were making progress but considering he had to give Callen a push in the right direction, you didn’t hold out much hope for the rest to the team to be any closer even with any extra information.

Deeks paced the bullpen; this wasn’t his first time dealing with a case involving one of his own colleagues but he couldn’t sit still. Sam’s eyes lifted from his desk, as Deeks wandered past again, “Do you have to keep doing that? Haven’t you got something to be working on?” he snapped. Deeks stopped in his walk and looked at Kensi briefly before turning back to Sam, with his eyes like a puppy who had just been scolded by it’s owner.

“I can’t just sit still knowing that the Chameleon has [Y/N]. Why can’t anybody find anything?”

“Because Janvier is good and he likes to play games.” Kensi replied as she looks through papers on her desk, checking anything that might help with finding you.

“Yeah, specifically with Callen. ” Sam put in.

“We think we might have something.” Nell called as both she and Eric rushed down the stairs. The rest of the team immediately congregated around the plasma television, “We’ve analysed every single frame of the video that Janvier sent us.” Nell began.

“We couldn’t trace the video so we tried to work out where Janvier might have [Y/N].” Eric continued. Hetty and Granger saw the discussion and joined them. “Using our expert Sherlock Holmes skills, we think we’ve narrowed it down to some kind of basement; in a house maybe.”

Sam didn’t look too impressed, it wasn’t the time for assumptions. “You think, Eric?”

Eric didn’t reply, he understood Sam’s irritability, “There’s more. Nell.” he directed the team’s attention to his glamorous assistant.

Nell used her tablet to bring up information on the plasma, “We looked at houses that was either brought leading to or after Janvier’s escape from prison. We didn’t find anything.” Sam’s eyes rolled, “But we then checked minor logged police reports of suspicious activity around empty houses. And this is where the possible something could be helpful. Okay, a neighbour to a house spotted someone trying to break in, the night after Janvier escaped. LAPD checked it out but there was nothing. Eric called the neighbour and she reported someone canvassing the area earlier that day.”

“That doesn’t prove anything.” Kensi replied.

Eric smirked ever so slightly, “Maybe this will.” Eric tapped his screen and brought up CCTV footage from the same house the following day, “This was taken from a nearby camera the day after the report.”

The team look on, “Janvier.” Deeks confirms.

“It gets better. We traced his route back to another house. Which also has a basement.” Nell informs them.

“So he’s likely got [Y/N] in one of them?” Granger wonders. Sam, Kensi and Deeks rush back to their desks, getting their things together. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“We’re gonna find Callen. Then we’re gonna find [Y/N].” Sam declares, shoving his gun between the waist on his jeans and the small of his back.

“No, not yet.” Granger orders them. The team all look at each other, they couldn’t quite believe that Granger was stopping them from searching leads.

Callen had almost turned his entire house into a bombsite for Janvier’s so-called clue. He began to thing think he didn’t leave one at all. It was going into the late evening and it was horrible for him to know you’d be spending the night, kidnapped in the hands of someone like Janvier. He needed to find you.

He slumped on the arm chair in the corner of the living room and reached up to the mantelpiece to grab the photo of you from the surface. The lights from the outside lit up little of the dark room, though the light was artistically shining on your face on the photo Callen held. The tears began to form in his eyes, and for once, he allowed himself to let them fall. He was angry, angry that he allowed this to happen. He starts to wonder why he didn’t kill Janvier like he should’ve done, not shooting him for real when he had the chance is now a huge regret to him. He needed a drink.

Placing the photo back, he made his way to his fridge, but before he got there, something caught his attention. He walked back a few steps and moved forward. Repeating the motion a few more times, Callen noticed a floorboard that had suddenly became much looser than before. He knew he needed to investigate, maybe it was nothing, but it definitely had been tampered with. He soon found a tool and hoisted the loose floorboard up to form a hole in his floor, a hole that he could fit his hand through. If there was anything under the floorboard, Janvier made it hard to find; not as hard in the end when Callen managed to grab hold of something and pull it out. Looking down at what he had found, he knew it must’ve been Janvier’s clue; a photo of a house. The problem was, is that he had no idea what to do with it, except from calling it in to NCIS and he knew Eric wouldn’t keep contact a secret, but it was the best option he had to finding you quickly.

He took out his phone and the screen showed the countdown of the time, 12:04:00. Half of the time was now gone, and only 12 hours remained until Janvier’s demands still were to be met. Not only did he want Callen, there was still the money that needed to be taken care of. Callen took a photo of the house and sent it to Eric.

The team felt that they were sitting ducks. They had a lead but Granger had stopped them even investigating it, and even they didn’t know why he wouldn’t let them, knowing it could be key to finding you still alive. Nothing was stopping Janvier killing you already and just running. They wanted to do something, but they couldn’t.

Eric had received Callen’s image and found the house. He rushed back down the stairs, with Nell in tow. “I have something.” Eric revealed causing the team to repeat what they went through earlier, Kensi almost felt like she was experiencing deja-vu. “Janvier left a clue at Callen’s house. It took him a while to find it but this photo was under one of the floorboards.”

“It’s the first house you showed us.” Deeks states. “That must be it. That’s where [Y/N] must be.”

“Can we go now?” Sam asks Granger who has found his way to the gathering.

“Yes. But don’t tell Callen. I want you to deal with Janvier.” Eric looked over at Granger, worried. Granger saw Eric’s concerned face and turned to him, “What?”

“I already told Callen. I’m sorry.” Granger’s head lowered as he exhaled and murmured some kind of negativity to himself. He tried to stop Callen getting involved; but telling Callen not to get involved with this is like telling a someone not to breathe, and the only way to make that happen was to kill them, and it flashed through Granger’s head to do just that once in a while.

The team made their way to the armoury to get armed and ready to begin the rescue mission.

Whenever you tried to fall asleep, Janvier’s minion made sure he beat you back awake. The drugs had worn off and luckily you weren’t injected with any more but the tiredness was getting the better of you. You felt the blood drip from your nose, and the rest of your face throbbed. The time on the clock had gone to less than 12 hours and you prayed to yourself that somebody was coming.

You felt your eyelids closing again and another strike came across your face. Trying to stay away, you constantly looked around the room, the small window towards the top corner of the room made you realise it was dark, which was a bigger reminder than time was counting down. You tried to fixate on the window trying to see if you could make out a star or two in the sky. The attention to that was drawn away when a shadow scuttled past, you thought it was an animal of some kind but something told you it wasn’t. But maybe you were just getting ahead of yourself hoping it was one of the team.

There was a small clatter from somewhere and Janvier’s minion left the room to check it out. You were still tied to the chair and were left alone longer than Janvier would’ve likely been happier with. The door to the basement re-opened, and a welcoming familiar face showed himself with his gun still held up in front of him,“Callen?” You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry that he had found you.

He began to move towards you away from the door, but a hand on the shoulder and an object poked to the small of his back made him realise that rescuing you and taking you out of here wasn’t going to be easy. “Agent G Callen. We meet again.”

#NCIS: LA Fanfiction #NCIS: Los Angeles Fanfiction #NCIS: LA Fanfic #NCIS: Los Angeles Fanfic #NCIS: LA One Shot #NCIS: LA Reader Insert #NCIS: Los Angeles One Shot #NCIS: Los Angeles Reader Insert #Callen x Reader #G. Callen x Reader #Reader x Callen #Reader x G. Callen #G. Callen #Callen #Fanfiction

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floatingpetals · 7 years

Text

Vanish in the Dark Pt 6

Pairings: None at the moment(I think I got something.)

Warnings: Language, reference to dead guy

Word Count: 2200+

Summary: Assassin’s Creed AU and Marvel AU crossover. The Brotherhood has spent years hiding in the shadows keeping the Templars in line as the years pass on. When the Templars company Abstergo Industries strikes up a deal with Hydra, things have to change. The Brotherhood decides to step out of the shadows, reaching out for the help of the Avengers. What could go wrong?

A/N: Ugh, this weekend sucked. I got like maybe 6 hours of sleep in total. I tried to get this part done sooner, but my brain just wasn’t working right. I think I got it working now. Kind of. Anyways, it’s a bit of filler this part. I like sneaky sneak assassins. They’re little shits. Enjoy lovelies! ❤️

Once again, the gif is not mine, credit to the owner. (it does, but doesn’t fit the chapter. Just roll with it.)

Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Series Masterlist

Steve stared down at the collection of items on the coffee table, rage carefully concealed behind a calm mask. He had to keep a level head, despite wanting to give in to his frustration. He was getting really tired of how easily they managed to manipulate them. While he was busy keeping his anger in check, Tony was doing the complete opposite.

“Nothing is true, everything is permitted.” He spat, reciting the eloquent cursive. “What the hell does that even mean?”

Before anyone could even think to answer, Tony spun around from where he was pacing at the window and grabbed the tablet from off the table before returning back to his pacing. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. Pull up all cameras of the surrounding areas. Start off finding each interaction we had when we’re sitting outside, and narrow it down from there.” He spun around and glared at the packet of gum that sat amongst the collection. “I’m getting sick and tired of this bullshit.”

“Of course, Sir.” The AI responded.

Natasha picked up the mint tin, turning it over in her hand. She too had found a carefully placed token in her room, sitting on the pillows of her bed along with a decorative bookmark underneath. Tony had found his token sitting atop his duffel bag, earplugs still in its sealed bad next to it. He all but exploded when he says the black spearmint package. Natasha glanced over to Sam, who sat staring at the dark-framed glasses. His was placed on his bedside table as well, a blank white sheet of paper save for the dark red lipstick stain on the corner sitting under the frames. It was as if they were taunting them. Once again, the assassins had managed to hoodwink them.

“I gotta ask them to teach me their secrets,” Sam muttered, leaning back into the couch. All eyes turned to glare at him, but he simply shrugged unfazed. “Clearly they got their shit together. If they managed to slip past two super-soldiers, a highly trained not to mention dangerous spy, a mind reader who didn’t catch a single thought from any of them, and a man in a tin suit with a super-intelligent computer system, then they know what they’re doing.” Sam paused for a moment and snorted. “They even got me repeating myself and wishing they’d teach me.”

Despite their frustration, everyone knew he was right. This group had to be one of a kind to succeed in what all they’ve done. Natasha felt a sting in her pride, absolutely foolish she missed something so simple. Bucky was kicking himself for falling so easily. He was trained to read people, and as much as he hated that training, it was something he prided himself in. In the end, they were so convincing it was astonishing.

“Sir.” The AI spoke up, pulling everyone out of their thoughts. F.R.I.D.A.Y. delayed for a moment before resuming. “I have the videos you requested.”

“I’m not liking how you’re hesitating F.R.I.D.A.Y.” The AI didn’t respond, simply pulling up the various video feeds from the surrounding areas on the hologram from the tablet in his hands. Tony set it down and let the various videos play though.

There were a number of angles from different buildings, security systems and even a few phones feeds. They watched the feeds, eyes flickering through the different angles, as a slow realization settled through them.

“All the angles-" Natasha sat taller, her heart dropping in her chest.

“They were in blind spots the entire time,” Steve spoke quietly, the rage flaring up again. Once more, the Brotherhood thought of everything.

“Wait a minute.” Wanda sat up, flicking the hologram aside to pull up one that caught her eye. It was the surveillance of the main courtyard from the hotel across the street, giving them a perfect view of the whole area. They could see where Natasha and Wanda sat, where Sam leaned against the pillar and where Tony sat in the crowd of onlookers.

“This is the only video feed that shows all but the woman at the café. The umbrellas from the tables hide all her features from us.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. spoke, pulling up the feed as proof. Tony waved it off and turned back to the feed of the courtyard. As the video went through everything, they watched with bated breath.

“There.” Sam stepped forward, tapping the video to pause it. The blonde woman’s face was angled away from the camera, but it was undoubtedly her. He scrubbed through the video until she walked away. Her face was turned down, glancing slightly over to the right towards Natasha and Wanda. Right when they figured to give up, the woman looked right into the camera from across the courtyard, smirking at the lens. The group recoiled, momentarily startled.

The process was similar with the two men, their faces angled away from the camera until the last second where both smirked into the camera. The woman with the chewing gum problems had done exactly as the others. Her face angled away from the camera lens, carefully tipped away from view. Even when she got up and left, she never tilted her head towards the camera. Her head was down, even when she placed a call. The woman looked over into a shadowed area nodding slightly. It was until she turned to walk across the street did she glance at the camera, winking at the camera. The Brotherhood knew where all the cameras were, and knew just how to position themselves so that nothing would catch them.

“Zoom in on the area she was looking at.”

It was faint, but the team could just make out a figure, standing still in the corner.

“I’ve already started a facial recognition scan of the ones I could identify. I will have results momentarily.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. said as the video feed zoomed out once more.

The video sped forward, passing through the painful twenty-five minutes of the press conference, turning back to the regular speed moments before the gas took over the courtyard. Tony ducked to check under the seat, shooting up when the small tendrils of gas came from the bottom of the chair. In an instant, they watched the gas exploded from nothing and the crowd dropping like flies. However, their interest wasn’t the collapsed people, but the figure that walked out from the corner.

The unknown person stepped forward, a black and silver hood covering the face of whoever it was as they stepped into the smoke confidently. It was only a few short seconds later did the person emerge from the vapors, only on the opposite end of the courtyard. They watched stunned as the person could be made out walking through the clouds of gas with ease, passing by Natasha and Wanda still laid in a crumpled pile on the ground. The person moved around Steve and Bucky as they stumbled through the quickly dissipating gas across the street. The individual stopped right along the bottom of the screen, their back to the camera as they watched the gas disappear completely.

The figure stood until the others recovered until the scream of horror alerted the crowd of the dead body. As the Hydra sponsor began to scream and fight, the figure turned with a hand going up to push the hood back from their face. Steve and Bucky gasped, gaping at the face of the woman that sat a few feet from them, who was staring up at the camera. The woman smiled widely before ducking off-screen.

The video went black, and the five smiling faces of the Brotherhood members pulled up on the screen. Just like their actions from the past 24 hours, they were smug in knowing they once again slipped past the world’s mightiest heroes with ease. The smiles only reminded the Avengers that they could have slipped away without even giving them a hint at who they were. No, instead they gave them a perfect view of their faces, and something told Steve they would find nothing on the five. Not a trace of them would be pulled up; No ATM feeds, no intersections feeds, nothing.

“Sir.” The computer sounded hesitant again, and Steve’s stomach dropped. He was right.

“You didn’t find anything on them, did you?” Tony asked, his eyes never leaving the faces. He had to have them memorized, down to every last detail. He wasn’t going to be played like this again.

“I’m afraid not Sir. Whoever these people are, they do not exist in any database.” Tony’s jaw clenched.

“What about the feed for our hotel and the area?”

“It was all shut off during the time of the break-in. There’s no footage for nearly twenty minutes before and after. They made sure to cover their tracks. Even intersections cameras were shut off. No doubt they blended into the crowds, which will only make it nearly impossible finding them.”

In the distance, they heard the doorbell ring and Sam moving to answer the door. No one said a word while he grabbed the boxes of pizza and returned to the tense living room. Silently, he placed the boxes on the table, a bag of paper plates on the crook of his elbow.

“Might as well eat. If we can’t find anything now, I doubt we will anytime soon.” Sam spoke as he pulled out the plates and popped open the lid to a box. They each made a noise of agreement and grabbed a few slices quietly.

“I will keep searching, Sir, and inform you of any changes.”

Tony nodded and waved the hologram of the faces away, the tablet going dark. The group sat around the couches, eating quietly amongst themselves as they processed everything. It wasn’t until they finished the boxes of pizza half an hour later, and having digested just enough that F.R.I.D.A.Y. found a lead.

“Sir.” She urged, lighting up the tablet.

Another video feed pulled up, the time stamp in the top corner showing the current time and date. The video showed down an empty dead-end alley, the occasional trash can and pile of trash being the only noticeable thing at first. Further down the alley, tucked away in the shadows was a familiar figure. As if she knew they were watching, and at this point, they were all assuming she did, she stepped forward with her hood pulled over her face, the smile from before still in place. She stood at the end, standing completely still before pushing the hood back. The grin was still in place, only this time she waved to the camera before the feed cut to black.

The group was moving in an instant, rushing to grab their gears in their rooms. They each changed into their suits as quickly as they could, while Tony looked up the coordinates. He let out a string of curses when a convenient file popped up on the screen, the exact coordinates typed out for them along with a smiley at the end of the memo.

“I’m officially done with these people.” He bit out to Steve as the made their way to the elevator. Steve gave him a look in agreement, stopping for a moment to consider a thought.

“You not going to fly out there first?” Tony shook his head and pulled out his keys as they moved quickly through the garage, bypassing the valet.

“They managed to hack into my system, they knew we were watching. They’d probably expect that. I’m pissed, but not angry enough to do something stupid. Yet.” They all piled into one SUV, decided it was best to simply stick together, despite the discomfort. Tony jumped into the driver’s seat, repeating to F.R.I.D.A.Y. the coordinates to lead them to. The SUV peeled off out of the garage and into the streets of New York.

A figure stepped out of the shadows, grinning at the car’s quick take off. They tapped the com in their ear as they walked out of the exit to the sidewalk to the city.

“They on their way, Heath?”

“They’re so strung out they completely missed me in the corner.” He laughed, shaking his head. He would miss messing with the Avengers. But after this meeting with their team leader, he knew this would most likely be the last time he could get away with this. Breaking into their hotel room was too easy, and he could only wish he saw the reactions when they found the gifts he planted. Maybe if he asked nicely, Y/N would let him do that again. Just for fun, of course.

“Good. Head back to the room and get a drink. Clark should be camped out binging through Harry Potter.” He could hear Y/N smiling through the com, just as excited as he was things were coming together. He made an excited hum of agreement and headed back towards the hotel they were staying at, a slight skip in his step.

“Good luck!”

Y/N snorted but thanked him before clicking off the com. She leaned against the back wall of the alley, tracing a finger through the symbol carved into the brick. She glanced back at the entrance, a smile on her face. She knew this was going to be an interesting meeting, she was honestly a bit nervous about how it would go. She could only hope they didn’t do anything stupid before they listened. If they were willing to.

Vanish in the Dark Tag List:*

@buckybabybaby @ccehrler @the-echo-of-insanity @aya-fay @kystarlight17 @evra-von-what @sassyandclassyx@alicethecactus@rebsniper @ymstmp-izzi @northscorpio @inumorph @therealwatermelon @locaaednaa @savannahingersoll14@arrowguyxx @stay-wokke @thehunterismine @nilssonelinnn @deanlovescassie @dont4getthepie @mirajanestrauss1999 @38leticia @lex-ham

(OPEN-let me know if you’d like to be tagged) Also let me know if you’ve asked and I’ve missed you! I didn’t mean to miss you:)

*If your name has a strike through it then it means I couldn’t tag you for some reason. :(

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bangtanalysis · 7 years

Text

I Wish I Could Love Myself: A Character Study of Rap Monster

At first, Namjoon seemed to be a pretty opaque character, and I thought he would be difficult to dissect. But after tons of analysis bordering on obsessive, I have come to some conclusions.

So I am going to start by discussing his death, and work my way from there. I believe he died from a form of self-neglect; more specifically, it was a drug overdose.

To some, this may seem like a leap. But let me point out some of his behaviors and bad habits that have been illustrated throughout their music videos. Starting with the sucker.

Starting in I NEED U, we see Namjoon almost constantly has a sucker in his mouth. This video (the ‘Original’ extended version, the one that doesn’t cut out all the wonderful gore and stuff) also directly relates that sucker to an entirely different habit:

I realize it’s a little hard to tell with my screenshots, and if I could makes gifs I would. But as many people who have seen this music video know, when Namjoon drops the sucker on the ground, it lands as a cigarette. It isn’t much of a leap to say that Namjoon is a smoker, given how often we see that sucker in his mouth.

You get the idea. And in case you’re still on the fence about it, here’s another picture of Namjoon from Blood Sweat Tears with actual smoke coming out of his mouth:

Smoking isn’t the only form of consumption he partakes in. We see him drinking as well. First in RUN, he has a soda, which is harmless in itself. But we have already seen a connection between sugar and vice now, and this is just furthering that connection (especially given how Namjoon literally sticks the sucker in the soda and then drinks that).

In his Wings short film, we see him drinking an amber liquid which I presume is alcohol.

It isn’t explicitly stated or shown that it’s alcohol, but I think it is safe to assume so given he also drinks absinthe in Blood Sweat Tears.

Now take this information, especially the direct comparison between candy suckers and cigarettes, and I assert that Namjoon’s character was also a drug user. Because even though this isn’t something that is explicitly shown onscreen, something else is, another habit of his that calls to mind similar imagery.

He tattoos the inside of his forearm. (It’s briefly interesting to note that this hearkens back to the Danger music video, where Namjoon does the same thing.) Now, I do think that Namjoon’s character is tattooing his arm here, in the same way that he was eating suckers all the time, but that doesn’t mean that this can’t symbolize something else simultaneously. Consider again, the candy suckers and the cigarettes; tattooing his forearm, using a needle. I’m sure the connection is pretty clear, but just in case you aren’t convinced, allow me to point out that he passes out afterward.

And then these bright neon colors start climbing up his arm, along with some writing that is mostly unintelligible to me (I can make out “sweet”, “colorful”, and “It tastes” repeated, which further connects the concept of sweetness to vice - if anyone else can read it, please share your findings). At a later time, in a later post, I will go fairly in depth about the complicated meaning of the neon colors throughout BTS’s entire Wings concept, but for now just give me the benefit of the doubt and accept that they don’t exactly mean purity or goodness or safety or calm or anything warm and fuzzy like that. The colors mean a lot of different things, but just trust me on this one. In short, for now, we can look at the colors as whatever drug or substance entering Namjoon’s system through the veins in his arms, but just understand that this is a very simplified way to look at this image. But it gets my point across.

Now, I could be wrong; it is entirely possible that Namjoon’s death was something else, but given what we have, I think the most likely cause would have been an overdose. At the very least, I do believe that it was a form of self-neglect that eventually killed him (whether that be an overdose, or alcohol poisoning). Because, Namjoon is a character who does not care for himself. He does not have much self worth, illustrated nicely by his Wings short film, where the lyrics they decided to feature from his song Reflection were, “I wish I could love myself,” over and over. He absolutely hates introspection, because quite frankly he hates himself.

In his short film, he finds himself surrounded by mirrors, and he cowers away and covers his ears and closes his eyes until the mirrors all shatter. He can’t stand to see himself. And honestly, his life sucks. He appears to be homeless, he is transient, he works as a gas station attendant pumping gas into other people’s cars while he himself is left alone and stagnant and pretty stuck in his habits.

(Pictured: Namjoon’s sad and lonesome life.)

He lives in a freight car. Here it is in RUN.

Here it is again in his Wings short film.

Namjoon is mostly alone. I speculate he may have been for most of his life, and had to learn how to grow up real quick in order to survive. And because of this, and because of his unwillingness to focus on himself, he falls easily into the role of mentor. Which, given his nature, isn’t necessarily a good thing. Namjoon assumes this mentor role with Taehyung throughout the I NEED U and RUN videos, the two of them committing acts of delinquency and vandalism and sometimes getting arrested together.

In Blood Sweat Tears, Namjoon becomes a mentor instead to Jungkook, which is established immediately at the beginning of the video when he sits down with Jungkook to read out of a book with him.

And here he is later on in the video clearly being a bad influence, as he partakes in his old habits, and Jungkook joins him in this.

Namjoon is a complicated character who has issues with self image, self neglect, self love, etc., and these issues carry through his development throughout his journey through the afterlife. He is an influential character as well, so his personal issues are not as internalized as he would think - the others are very affected by them throughout the story as well.

#bts #bts analysis #rap monster #rapmon #namjoon #run mv #blood sweat tears #i need u #wings album #bts wings #reflection #bts theories

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changterhune · 5 years

Text

Time to Cut And Run

I think I’m done with social media.

Okay, not all of it. But most of it.

“Why?” is what you’re asking. “You’re so active on it! Look at you with all the Facebooking, the Twittering, the Instagramming, the Tumbling and such!”

You’re right. And it’s slowly killing me. No joke.

WHEN YOU’RE THE PROBLEM YOU GOT A BIG PROBLEM

When my first reaction to dropping all social media was fear and concern that I couldn’t do it then I should’ve known I had a problem. As I’ve had more and more time to hear their experience and how they felt after cutting this particular cord I knew it was something I had to do.

Of course in grand Terhune style, I made a big frigging pronouncement that on August 1st, 2019 I would be deactivating or mothballing my Facebook and Twitter accounts for one month. I said I’d keep my Instagram and Tumblr active, though I might’ve ditched Tumblr, too, at the end of the month.

But it didn’t work out quite like that.

“Why?” you may ask? (As if anyone’s still reading).

Well, I’ll tell you.

PEER PRESSURE

Two friends of mine cut the cords from social media this summer.

They immediately reported feeling great but not after some initial shock and withdrawal (which apparently was significant). My aforementioned terrified reaction to this turned into admiration then concern and jealousy. They could easily disengage, it seemed, while I found the idea as frightening as severing a limb.

When I began to envy those who can seemingly manage if not thrive from their social media presence is when I realized I was really in it deep.

A HISTORY LESSON Fourteen years ago our family moved to Maine, uprooting from an established network of friends and family. My wife and I threw ourselves into a new business (a yoga studio) and our daughter was in school. We developed friendships and built a loving, vibrant community around our yoga studio. Our sense of professionalism meant maintaining boundaries though we maintained some social contact in meatspace (what the rest of the world calls in real life or IRL in technospeak). It was enough and made up for what we lost when we moved to a new state.

During this time, from 2005 to 2014, social media grew from a few blogs and LiveJournal into Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat and others. Many of my social media accounts were created in 2008 after I attended the Viable Paradise workshop. There I connected with fellow writers and future friends from all over the world.

In the beginning, these platforms allowed me to keep in touch while friending new people and reconnecting with friends from my hometown, college and other areas of my life. It was fun to grow my friends lists in all those apps. There I got to know the new friends and reconnect with the old ones. At one time I could even distinguish between someone I knew from real life, the internet, high school, my yoga life, my music life and my writing life.

Then as they often do, things got… weird.

Actually I became severely depressed and then I got weird.

Okay, fine. I got weird-er. Ya happy now?

“MY COMPLICATIONS HAD COMPLICATIONS.”

2013-2014 is when social media became problematic for me. Though in some ways it was a lifeline, where I kept in touch with people when I felt isolated. But more often I grew to feel as if I wasn’t validated unless I posted something on social media.

Or I wondered if I was valued or even alive if I posted something and got a “like.”

It became the place where I lived the most and this wasn’t good for me.

In that time social media grew into something like the facehugger from the movie “Alien.” If you don’t know what that is (what the hell is wrong with you?!) then here’s a litte background for you:

The facehugger is a parasitoid; its only purpose being to make contact with the host's mouth for the implantation process. The Facehugger secures its eight finger-like appendages tightly around the head of its victim and wraps its tail tightly around the host's neck, eliciting a gasping response and allowing the insertion of an ovipositor into the host's esophagus. An embryonic form of the Xenomorph is then implanted directly into the stomach of the host. During the implantation process the host is fed a constant supply of oxygen via two lung like organs.

Here’s a fun video (WARNING IT CONTAINS SCARY SHIT):

Get the picture?

Social media - mostly Facebook and Twitter to be honest - became a thing attached to me, breathing for me while implanting something foreign into me. But instead of originating as something invasive I basically invited it in, made it some tea, shaved while it drank the tea then allowed it to hop on my face and ride me like a fucking tired, old pony at the carnival.

OUTRAGE FATIGUE

As my friend good friend and bold German brother Marko Kloos wrote, it’s all too easy to open up one of these sites and get enthralled in the rage of the day. I don’t know who manages their social media engagement and doesn’t feel this or how they do it. But I realized that I was experiencing something dubbed extreme outrage fatigue. And it made the depths of my depression in the last five years considerably worse than it had to be. Because it’s one thing to be engaged and aware of what’s going on and yet another thing entirely to go from zero to furious in a second.

I had enough stress and cortisol cocktails back when we owned our business. Real life then dealt me an even greater dollop of it in the last five. I’m better now with the help of therapy, medication, and a new CPAP machine. And as I get better, I realized giving my body a heaping dose of cortisol every time I open Facebook and see something that jolts my nerves and off I go into a tailspin.

And I’m so, so very done feeling this way. I’m fairly sure it’s killing me slowly.

DER PLAN? DIRT PLANT!

Unlike the facehugger from Alien, pulling the plug on social media hasn’t strangled me or causes acidic blood to scar me or eat a hole in three or four decks of a spaceship.

But the withdrawal was a little intense that first day. I’m not gonna lie.

Because I’m a little addicted to social media.

Which, if you’re unfamiliar with recovery schpiel, means I’m very addicted.

Social media - with its likes, hearts, emojis, RT’s and everything else - is perfect for our little lizard brains. They only want to feel fed, fucked, free and fat - which really means feeling loved, wanted and secure. When we get a little like or emoji on a post it releases endorphins into our brains and we crave more. So much so that I often wish I’d never gotten involved with it and kept my daughter off social media for as long as possible.

It’s not social media’s fault per se, it’s just that I am wired in such a way that it makes addicts of us (my wife can take it or leave it which is both annoying and enviable).

Now don’t get me wrong: there’s a ton of things I love about social media. I love that it’s connected me with people all over the world, made new friends and reconnected me to old ones. I love that it’s truly helped people in various causes across the globe from the Arab Spring uprising, the RESIST marches in the US and the Hong Kong protests. It can be a tool for positive change in the world but it’s not being used as such because those who run Facebook and Twitter see more profit in running it another way.

Don’t believe me? Then go to Netflix and watch The Big Hack documentary. Then tell me how you don’t care about what Facebook does with your information. Because I guaranteed they know how you think and decide about your purchases and beliefs almost as well as or better than you.

SOCIETY’S A DRAG SO WHY NOT JUST DROP OUT?

“Well, why are you staying on Instagram and Tumblr?” you may ask. “They’re just as bad!”

Okay. I’ll tell you why. It’s simple.

Because they bring me joy.

My Tumblr dash is mostly science fiction themed posts and a few political ones. I go there for concept art, the work of favorite artists, funny gifs and even music (I certainly don’t go there for adult content since they killed that community off the day before my 50th birthday. Great gift, jackasses!). It’s a nice place to unwind as I usually check it out at the end of the day before I go to bed.

My Instagram feed is full of pictures and videos of synthesizers, cute animals, cartoons, comics, fail videos, concept art and almost no politics. I feel better when I go on it, especially when I see pictures of dogs and cats. And Sparky has a pretty dedicated following which I must curate for his majesty.

Now if I’m being honest with myself I’m still checking the likes for video clips I post of my songs or artwork. That little approval drug, that little pip of endorphins is something I have to deal with.

And if I’m being even more honest with myself I can safely say social media has done very little to help me sell my books, music or comics. Most of that I’ve done by hand through word of mouth.

DELETE AND REPEAT UNTIL YOU FEEL THE BEAT

“Okay, so big deal,” you say. “You’re not dropping out but you’re cutting back. What’s it gonna look like from here on out?” you may ask (as if anyone is still reading this).

For starters my online presence has shrunk noticeably. Initially I planned to deactivate my Facebook account early in August and do the same with Twitter. I started this by deleting the apps from my phone on a Monday.

Then something extraordinary happened.

First the anxiety whacked me over the back of the head and took me for a ride in the back of a smelly old beater. Like for most of the day I was grabbing my phone, going to the apps and experiencing a jolt at not seeing them there. It was like I kept reaching for a door that had been there or a window only to find it replaced with a giant brick wall or gaping empty space. This went along for a good 5-6 hours.

Then the anxiety went away.

The next day was infinitely easier. Without reaching for my phone the way Charles Bukowski reached for a cigarette or glass of whisky first thing in the morning, my day started off much more relaxed. Combined with the benefits of sleeping with a CPAP machine and POW! I was up earlier and easier in the morning as I went off to walk the dog then head into work. In the weeks since I curtailed my social media usage I feel so much better. More relaxed, less anxious and not nearly as out of touch as I thought I might. I check the news feed for a few minutes and listen to the radio but that’s it. Not nearly as much outrage first thing in the morning.

Despite not deleting my Facebook or Twitter accounts completely I haven’t felt much temptation to reinstall them. In fact most days, instead of checking in on both at least a dozen times an hour, I usually check in on Facebook at work late in the morning then once at night at home in my office.

It shocks me how, after so little time away from it there’s so little there that I wonder how it became such a huge part of my life. The annoyance hits me like a day old haddock in the face the moment I open Facebook and after seeing if I need to reply to anything immediately I just close it and move on.

I have not, obviously, deactivated or deleted either of the monsters for a couple reasons. It’s nice to check in on people individually because the feed is bullshit due to algorithms that show you want Facebook or Twitter wants you to see (I’ve largely abandoned my artist pages because the effort involved in getting them to produce any results is herculean and yields nothing). My Instagram posts to Facebook and other social media so I didn’t need to check it as often. In fact I can’t usually stay on it for more than 5 minutes before getting bored.

YOU NEED US. DON’T YOU? PRETTY PLEASE? “So how are we going to stay in touch?” you may ask. “What about the people who need to get in touch with you?” (as if anyone is still reading this in the present day).

Honestly? If you want me you know where to find me. If you have my digits then call or text a brother. You can always email me, too.

I use Facebook Messenger regularly, despite knowing every word and image I put there is used to sell beer and cheap shit. My intention is to focus more on my personal site and blog at www.charlesrterhune.com and www.changterhune.com. There I’ll be posting regularly in an effort to hone and maintain my internet presence as much as I can (for we are all still at the mercy of the behemoth that is Google). It’s also a case of having the time to post as I’m working on several project at a time. My website will post to social media as long as those sites are active.

Honestly, if I feel this good weeks after cutting the cord I’m sure it will feel a-frigging-mazing in a couple months or even a year’s time!

So I’ll see you around these parts I hope.

Or maybe even IRL here in meatspace!

- CHARLIE/CHANG/CHIZZLE/CRT

#outrage fatigue #social media #facebook sucks #twitter sucks

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bcublog · 7 years

Text

Evaluation

‘I want, I want’ Evaluation (Exploring Meaning Through Narrative)

When visiting the Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery I was immediately drawn to Marcus Coates’ piece ‘Dawn Chorus’. The piece dominates the museum space as the audio is played on a continuous loop and so the sounds of birdsong are always playing and can be heard from all parts of the exhibit. The piece is displayed in the form of televisions set at varying heights to resemble trees, showing the human participants mimicking the sounds of birdsong in various locations; whether it be a waiting room, or a living room for example. The aim of the piece is to show humans using their voices within their own habitat. This drew my attention, but for another reason; this being the fact that the younger participants looked as if they didn’t know what to do with their hands. I found myself thinking that it must have been difficult for them to sit all that time without a mobile and so therefore initially missed the message of the piece. This led me onto exploring the obscure hand movements of Daria Martin’s piece ‘Soft materials’ and forming my project around the idea of technological addiction. I wanted to explore how obscure people would look if they continued to make the same hand gestures they make whilst using a mobile but without a mobile present. I wanted my project to be a way of subtly reflecting a person back at themselves and making them question actually ‘how weird would I look If I was making these hand movements without a phone?’ and ‘am I actually addicted to technology?’

Initially I thought this project would be a long and laborious journey; the term flip book initially filled me with dread and I expected to be drawing hundreds and hundreds of separate frames. However, as the project unravelled, the process became quite enjoyable as whilst working on each frame I could slowly see this narrative gradually forming in front of me. I had drawn some robotic hand samples and was initially going to go down this route for my flip book to hammer home the idea of addiction and the fact that technology is turning us into robots and machines however I felt this approach was too literal and didn’t fit with the subtle ideas I wanted to get across. I felt it would be more effective to draw human hand features as opposed to robotic as the message is much subtler as a result in the end. I initially recorded several videos of my brother making different texting gestures with and without a phone to find a suitable template for my flip book; the video I chose was then broken down into 89 individual frames. What worked well ironically was having more frames to draw from as it allowed my final flip book to keep the fluidity and subtle movements of the original video and allow the hand movements to look very human.

I referenced the ‘Take on Me’ music video at one point in my project as when I compiled the first 40 frames of my digital flip book together whilst it was still in production, the way the shading of each frame jumped around the page reminded me of this video. In the music video, an effect called Rotoscoping was used to tell the story of a young girl who gets dragged into this two-dimensional world of stop motion animation, and my flip book with the black and white imagery and the fluid hand movements was reminiscent of this. The effect within my flip book was caused by the shading differing slightly between each frame and so it created this illusion that looked to me like machinery and wiring; almost as if it was showing the inner workings and mechanisms of a hand. This was as it happens, a happy accident as I found it blended the technological and human elements together nicely; almost as if we are the machines. It got that message across subtly without it being too in your face as it was initially going to be had I just drawn a robotic hand from the offset.

It was important to me that the messages behind the piece were subtle. I didn’t want to come across as preaching to people that technology was evil and we’re turning into robots, I wanted my piece to, as mentioned previously reflect a person back at themselves and make them perhaps wonder if they are in fact addicted to technology. I wanted people to pick up on these elements of my flip book; the fact that the hand is supposed to be texting, the fact that there isn’t a phone present and that the movement and shading blends the human and technological. I found this difficult as I didn’t want to be too overtly obvious with what I wanted to get across however I also didn’t want to be too subtle. I think I succeeded in creating a nice balance between the two as it’s clear that the hands are supposed to be texting and the way my project is layered enables people to pick up on the deeper meanings and messages.

I always knew that I wanted my target audience to be teenagers or ‘secondary child’ as this is the age group who are the most active users of technology. My work is not graphic or inappropriate and so is suitable for all however the primary audience for my piece is predominantly teenagers. I went into this in more detail within my empathy map in which I detailed what I wanted people to be seeing, hearing, thinking etc. when they see my work. I want my work to appeal to my audience and make them see that if you take away the technology what are you left with? Just humans making obscure hand gestures over and over again like machines. It would be good for people to recognise that these are the gestures they make every day without really realising or thinking about it; seeing the familiarity between the piece and themselves so they become more involved with the art.

A part of this project that I found difficult was making my actual blog as this was something I had no experience of doing before. I’ve been so used to my sketchbook that it was unusual doing a blog as well alongside it and so my blog essentially became my digital flip book. I made sure that my sketchbook was not made redundant however and so it was perfect for important notes and casual sketches that I could take down in a non-linear way whilst having my blog to document my process from start to finish. I’m used to having an order to my sketchbook whereas this time it became a collection of random, disorganised sketches, ideas and notes which benefited me a bit as I could use my sketchbook for the rough ideas and samples and my blog for the organised project planning and documentation. It was also a new experience for me to work my way around Tumblr as I am relatively new to social media and so it was good to practice getting to grips with a new platform. It benefited me, the fact that the creation of a blog for this project was compulsory as it allowed me to branch out into something different and give myself an online presence; something I hadn’t been confident ever doing before. It stopped me from restricting myself to just a sketchbook and allowed me to, as mentioned previously get to grips with a new method of sharing and documenting my work. My blog came together in the end and I was able to share videos and gifs of my work rather than being restricted to pages in a sketchbook, it was beneficial for me to be able to show my work in motion so people were able to get a better idea as to how the final piece would look and how it had been improved upon as the project had developed. When making the QR code to present on the back of the paper version of my flip book, I was again expecting the process to be really difficult however I found out quite quickly that it was actually quite simple. This again was something I’d never done before and so it was great to have the experience of generating a QR code that could link a person to my blog if they so wished thus widening the overall reach of my work.

When printing my paper flip book an obstacle I faced was the fact that the first copy I printed didn’t allow enough room for each page to flip properly and so the top of each frame was obscured; I therefore reprinted the pages with more room at the top to allow for a higher swing angle. If I were to do anything differently I’d perhaps add some less subtle hand gestures and more extreme motion to the paper version as the movement doesn’t look as prominent as it does in the digital version. The digital version is effective as the subtle, robotic motions work well as the movement is fluid whereas when physically flipping through the paper version, some of the smaller motions are lost. Within the digital version, the movement of the hands aren’t entirely human or entirely robotic and so it’s almost as if we are the machines, slowly turning into robots as we make the same hand gestures and movements each day without realising it. The message is subtle however comes across nicely in the digital version as, as mentioned previously, the movement is fluid. This gets lost slightly in the paper version and I can’t help thinking that more extreme movement in the paper version would rectify this and help sell the illusion better. Another thing I’d perhaps do differently would be to print my paper flip book on stronger, sturdier paper so it does not immediately start to degrade as soon as its interacted with. I wrote in my blog that as my topic refers to technology and addiction and how it changes the way we behave (addicted, turning into machines etc.) it might be nice to stick with ordinary paper as it represents the idea of ‘gradual change over repeat exposure and usage’. However, upon further consideration perhaps it would have been more beneficial to print it on slightly stronger paper so the paper slowly degrades over repeat interaction rather than immediately starting to degrade as I fear it will as it is now. Despite this, the message is still there either way however long it takes to degrade. Finally, it may also have been nice to add a little colour to my flip book if I were to do it differently but then again, the black and white does make it look bland and uniform and so therefore mirrors the robotic, addicted, obscure theme. Overall, I believe that I have succeeded in what I set out to achieve, I have produced a flip book that correlates with the theme I wanted to explore; that being technological addiction. My final piece gets this across by subtly blending human and technological elements whilst multiple layers within the narrative can be picked up upon. Furthermore, the piece is suitable for my teenage audience and the message presented allows people to see themselves in the art as technology is such a prominent part of everyday life; it’s an effective way of letting people step back, see themselves from a distance and ask ‘am I addicted to technology?’

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