#did you take a role (at an organisation) or did you take a roll (from the bakery)

[gravitasmalfunction]

I am "I can't read the news without missing subeditors" years old

[fanficshiddles]

The Redbridge Hunts, Chapter 33

Just under a few weeks later, Chris had organised some interviews for potential teachers, to take over Jeremy’s role. Lucius was involved in the process, too. As well as Loki.

They held it one evening, on Wednesday after school hours. Loki came back in to the school with Bat on his shoulder.

‘Why have you brought Bat?’ Lucius asked with a chuckle as he happily greeted the cat.

‘She’s been alone all day, I didn’t want to leave her alone all evening either. Since Claire is away visiting her sister tonight, I just thought I’d bring her here.’ Loki smiled.

‘BAT!’ Jessica squealed from down the corridor and began running to see her.

Bat leapt away from Lucius and jumped into Jessica’s arms.

Jessica had been working late, marking some practice tests they’d held during school time. So was a few of the other teachers.

‘I’ll keep her company if you want while you guys do the interviews.’ Jessica offered.

‘Are you sure? Was you not about to head home?’ Loki asked.

‘There are still some tests to mark, I was just stretching my legs. Once I’m finished, I’ll put her with Severus if he’s still here.’ Jessica said and then headed off back to her classroom with Bat, without waiting for an answer from Loki, making him chuckle.

‘Chris has the forms for the potential candidates in his office. We’ve got half an hour before they arrive. He already has his eye on the only vampire that’s applied.’ Lucius sighed.

‘Figures.’ Loki rolled his eyes.

While there was only one vampire that applied out of five candidates, they were all qualified enough. Though even Chris agreed after interviewing them all, that one of them stood out the most and seemed that he would be the best fit for the school. His name was Alex and he was a human.

After they dismissed all the candidates apart from Alex, they gave him the good news and asked him to start straight away. Which he agreed to do, happily.

Loki went to go fetch Bat now he was finished. Jessica’s classroom was empty, so he went to Severus’ class, knowing she would be there.

As he reached his room, the door was half open so Loki paused just outside and peeped in a little when he heard Severus talking in an odd voice.

‘You are such a cutie. My girl would absolutely adore you. Yes, she would!’ Severus was cooing over Bat, who was lying on his desk, loving the attention. Severus leaned back to take a picture of Bat, to send it to his partner, then he was back fawning over her.

Loki pushed the door further open and walked in. Severus instantly straightened himself up and his face fell serious.

‘Ah. Come for your cat?’ He asked with a cough.

Loki struggled to resist from laughing. ‘Yes, come to get my cutie cat.’ He smirked.

Severus glared at Loki then abruptly stood up. ‘Well, it’s not a lie, is it?’ He shrugged sheepishly.

Loki decided not to tease him further on it. He walked over and scooped Bat up. ‘Thanks for keeping her company. She does love people.’

‘No problem.’ Severus said quietly, then sat down again once Loki left the room.

Loki headed towards the entrance, he saw Alex just ahead of him who was just leaving, too.

‘I look forward to working with you, Alex.’ Loki called to him.

Alex spun around and smiled. ‘Thanks, you too.’

Bat then did something that Loki had never seen before. She let out the loudest yell Loki had ever heard from her, but it was an angry yell, and she threw herself out of Loki’s arms and bolted towards Alex while hissing and growling at him.

Alex backed up, but Bat launched for his lower legs with her claws out, she kept spitting at him and yowling.

Chris and Lucius came running down the corridor at the noise, Severus rushed out of his class too. They were all just as stunned as Loki was.

‘I’m sorry, she’s never done this before.’ Loki said quickly in a panic as he ran forward and grabbed Bat.

Though Bat wasn’t happy. She squirmed so much that Loki couldn’t keep hold of her, and as soon as she was back on the floor, she launched for Alex yet again. Alex ran out of the school and stumbled down the steps, Bat continued to chase him right across the grounds and she only stopped once he was out the school gates.

Loki, Chris, Lucius and Severus ran out after them.

‘I’ll… see… you tomorrow.’ Alex called out, shaken, as he bolted down the road towards his car.

The vampires just stared in complete shock.

‘Chris... I think you should probably organise a thorough background check on that guy.’ Severus muttered, still staring at Bat.

‘Definitely.’ Chris muttered back.

‘Bat. Are you ok? Are you hurt, ill?’ Loki asked as he picked her up, worried over her.

‘I don’t think she’s hurt, Loki. I’d say she just senses something very off about Alex.’ Lucius hummed.

‘She’s never done that before.’ Loki said as he turned to face them, though Bat was settled again and began licking her paws as she relaxed in her owners’ arms.

‘We’ll look into the guy. If he’s clean, then perhaps worry about if she’s ill or hurting.’ Chris said calmly.

‘Hm.’ Loki huffed, still not convinced there wasn’t something wrong with her.

-

The following day, Lucius went to the school and informed Loki that Alex turned out to be a hunter. He was trying to get close to the vampires of the school, to build up a trust before attacking from the inside.

‘So, Bat’s judgement was right. He was a bad man with bad intentions.’ Claire said and Lucius nodded.

‘Loki, what’s wrong?’ Claire asked, noting how he didn’t seem happy.

‘I just… She’s never attacked someone like that before, or even displayed anger towards someone. If she is like that with bad people, why is she always all over Chris?’

Claire’s face softened and she wrapped her arms around his arm. ‘He did save her, remember? I bet she remembers that.’

Loki grumped in response.

‘I’ve told Chris to re-interview the other candidates, he can decide who he wants to hire.’ Lucius said.

‘What’s happened with Alex?’ Claire asked.

‘He’s been dealt with.’ Was all Lucius said. ‘I’ll see you later, I need to get back to work.’

‘Thanks, dad.’ Loki called to him as he headed out.

Loki sat down on his chair and ran a hand down his face. Claire went over and perched on his lap, he put his arm around her and smiled. ‘Thanks, love. Sorry for being grumpy.’

Claire draped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. ‘I love you even when you’re being a Mr grumpy gills, don’t worry.’ She teased.

Loki chuckled. ‘I was just really worried about Bat. Never seen her act like that before. She can fairly go into attack mode, I never knew she had it in her.’

‘Well, she obviously just never needed to. At least she’s acting on her instinct and let you all know that Alex was bad. I know the way she is with Chris upsets you, but to a kitten that had been abandoned and was on the brink of death, the person to save her will always have a place in her heart. Whether you agree with that judgement or not.’ Claire said softly.

‘I know. You’re right.’ Loki sighed.

‘I’m always right.’ Claire grinned.

‘Don’t push it.’ Loki smirked at her.

‘Not interrupting, am I?’ Came Chris’ voice, making Loki tense up and his jaw clench.

‘You always are, though that's never stopped you before.’ Loki growled at him.

Chris smirked and walked into the room, hands behind his back. ‘I’ve called the other candidates back for tonight.’

Loki waited, thinking there was more to it. Though Chris never said anything more. ‘Ok… So? You don’t need me to be there, do you?’

‘Not necessarily… but can I borrow Bat?’

Loki’s eyebrows almost shot up off the top of his head. ‘What? No! You’re not using my cat.’

‘She clearly has a good sense of who’s good and who’s not. Wouldn’t you rather a new teacher working here had her approval?’ Chris asked, folding his arms over his chest.

‘Well, of course. Though I don’t want to stress her out more.’ Loki argued.

‘I promise, if she acts the same way with any of the other candidate, I will chuck them out instantly. I’ll even take her back to you after we’re done, to save you coming back in.’ Chris said calmly.

Loki was speechless, he looked at Claire, who shrugged.

‘I mean… I don’t think it would be a bad thing to let Bat meet the others, to make sure there’s not another hunter trying to get in.’ Claire said softly.

Loki growled a little and glared at Chris. ‘No… it’s not happening.’

-

That evening, the first candidate to return walked into Chris’ office in the evening and raised an eyebrow upon seeing a black cat sitting on Chris’ desk, with seemingly judging eyes.

‘What’s with the cat?’ He asked with a chuckle and leaned over to pet her, Bat gave an appreciative purr, but kept professional.

‘She’s my assistant’ Bat let out a displeased yell. ‘I mean, my… deputy head for the day.’ Chris chuckled a little.

Bat sat a little prouder, looking as pleased as a cat could.

‘Ok…’ The guy trailed off, slightly confused as he sat down.

The interviews with the four candidates went well. Bat didn’t have a bad reaction to any of them, which Chris was relieved about, he wasn’t really in the mood to fight with his little brother tonight. While the candidates waited outside, Chris put their forms out on front of Bat.

‘I like them all. Who do you think is best?’ He asked and folded his arms over his chest.

Bat looked at the forms with the little profile pictures of each one in the top corner. She took a moment before putting her paw on the third guy, Spencer. Chris picked up his paper and glanced over it with a hum.

‘What did you think of this one? He’s the only vampire. Unless my senses are mistaken, the other three are humans. Right?’ Chris asked.

Bat chirped her answer, which he figured meant yes. Though she walked over to Chris and batted at the form in his hands again.

He sighed and looked at Bat, she stared back at him, neither of them blinked or broke eye contact for a minute. Then Chris sighed again and nodded. ‘Alright. I’ll offer Spencer the job.’ He said with a little reluctance.

Bat let out a happy chirp and brushed her head against him. Chris rolled his eyes but had a little smile as he petted her.

When he popped out of his office to see the four candidates, Bat was perched on his shoulder.

‘Thank you all for coming back for another interview. It was difficult to choose between you all, as you all have great skills and experience for this school. However, Spencer, I’d like to offer you the job.’ Chris put on a smile and walked over to shake his hand, deliberately leaving out the part that he’d only gotten the job because of a cat deciding.

‘Thank you very much, Sir. I really appreciate it.’ Spencer grinned happily.

When the candidates and Spencer left, Chris took Bat straight home. To avoid Loki’s wrath.

‘Well, did you pick one?’ Loki asked when he answered the door.

‘Yes. Gone with Spencer, the one from down South. He’s starting in a week.’ Chris said as he handed Bat over to Loki.

Loki raised an eyebrow. ‘Really? Well, good choice.’

‘You went with a human? I thought you’d have picked the vampire.’ Claire said from behind Loki as she wandered through.

Chris' jaw clenched a little in annoyance. ‘Let’s just say, a cat’s sense is even better than a vampire’s sense. So sometimes it’s wise to go with your head instead of the heart.’

Loki couldn’t believe his ears. ‘Are you telling me that you let Bat pick?’

Chris shrugged in response, turned on his heels and began making his way down the path without another word.

Loki and Claire looked at Bat, who had made herself comfy in Loki’s arms. She looked up at them both and chirped at them. Loki and Claire then looked at each other, in slight disbelief, before closing the door.

[scarlovebot]

2 A.M PATIENT WHISPERS

Natasha romanoff x female reader

hiya this is my first fic <3 please be patient I am very scared

Summary: You can’t sit through a casual evening, resulting in anger and disappointment from both yourself and Natasha

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧

Nothing good happens after 2 A.M, supposedly.

You should have listened.

It started as casual drinks, a simple mix of vodka lemonade and beers (to much of your disgust as cocktails were the more obvious choice). As the group of the earths mightiest heroes settle within the lounge-diner of the compound, soft tunes cascade from the speakers and scattered chatter floats from person to person.

Almost telepathically Tony and yourself look into one another’s eyes sensing boredom which can only be fixed with one solution, tamper with the drinks.

A mischievous grin is shared amongst the pair, Y/N clutches onto her almost empty glass rising from her slouched demeanour, announcing “Anyone for another drink?”.

The group declares their ever so boring orders, Tony injects himself into the situation offering a simple helping hand for the individual bartender of the evening (now declaring this role as yours for the evening).

With the plan in toe you head for the bar, standing backwards towards the group so no peeping eyes can see the chaos forming.

Unknown to you and your now presumed partner in crime, the group have already caught onto the awfully thought out organisation.

The naughty glint in yours eyes could be recognised by almost anyone, known for the light hearted tricks pulled in recent events your coworkers have become wary of almost everything you do when not in the field (somehow trusted more in the battle front than in the comfort of your own home).

The first mistake being your casual question came out more demanding, laced with hidden giggles and an attempt at a sultry tone. So when Tony and yourself made the great escape everyone’s eyes shared a similar soft eye roll - little did you know a secretive plan had been put into place when faced with this similar situation: Do not touch your drinks from this point onwards.

With all four hands full of ‘poisoned’ beverages, the former playboy and his rascal of a ‘mini me’ made their return.

And now the second mistake was the self mutation, knowing that you’ve done something that would not be approved by the captain would always result in the sudden silence of your loud, opinionated voice.

However, it’s accurate to say that your ego won’t lower to admit but Captain America wasn’t who y/n threat the most, no it was the women who showered you in flattery and possessed you as hers.

Yourself and Natasha Romanoff had been an item for a little over a year and it’s been a fever dream to say the least. The older women rarely looses her temper with your cheeky self, but the turning point in her mind is when you play games. This isn’t to say that she turns into the green gorilla, no she turns into a motherly figure which your young, tipsy self loved to egg on. And Nat was not your biggest fan during these moments.

With the drinks handed to the culprits you were ready for the games to commence. The sly looks aiming in your direction went completely through you, your drunken eyes had lost its perception of clear view - Natasha could see you slowly losing all self control which caused an internal battle in her head: choosing between the role-play of

a sympathetic girlfriend or agitated mother.

as undecided she was Nat didn’t want her cherub to completely suffer, rising from her seat in frustration the assassin strolled over with grabby hands, taking a tight grip on either side of your rib cage she hoisted the limp body which sprawled out upon her.

y/n brows furrowed with a childlike pout, suddenly overtaken with sensitivity. The realities of your actions were coming to surface. No, you didn’t cause harm but had been profusely told that casual drinking meant casual drinking (nights like this were becoming way too familiar).

with gentleness Natasha spoke “детка, bed” and with that you shook your head, whining due being sent to your room.

“y/n why do you think I’m sending you to bed?” Natasha’s voice laced with sternness, not wanting to surrender to what you saw as a ‘punishment’ y/n made an attempt to wriggle out of her tight grasp, mindlessly aiming for the bar - you can only imagine who won this game of cat and mouse.

Surprise, neither.

by the end of the evening Natasha and y/n were the only two left in the living area due to the battle y/n had put it.

Unlike before you had lost your temper, no longer finding the motherly instinct caring and instead condescending.

it had now hit 3 A.M and to say the pair was exhausted was an understatement: y/n being left with very little voice and red tear stained face, Natasha having buckets of sweat dripping from every inch of her body, and clothing that looked ten sizes too big (the reason being y/n pulling on Natasha’s clothing to remain anywhere but their shared bedroom).

the exhaustion finally took over y/n body, looking up to Natasha’s eye-line who stood towering over you, “bedtime….” You sung out in embarrassment and guilt.

taken by surprise your merely awake partner hooked her arms underneath and hoisted you up, holding by the waist and delicately grabbing your chin - oh fuck.

“тигр, this ends now! I haven’t got a clue what got into you tonight but you need to go to bed. and think about what you have done” your loves eyes narrowed with anger, yet a softness remained.

you were done playing games knowing that the line had been crossed many, many hours ago. turning away from Nat and stomping up the stairs: not in anger but frustration at your actions. slamming the door hard enough so that the sound echoed throughout the mammoth length of the corridor, not caring who awoke.

Natasha didn’t hurry up after you, this was nothing new to the red head. You would fill with rage and project the feelings onto anything, then the next day silent treatment , and to finish it off - a waterfall of tears and repeated apologies.

as the door took its attack this was your girlfriends cue to dismay the discipline approach and forth come with love.

The kind of love that holds you close through your worst mistakes, peppering you with mass amounts of kisses, and tangling yourself together with her patiently giving you a telling off.

[winterandwords]

Writer interview tag

Thanks to @deanwax and @sergeantnarwhalwrites for the tags!

This is a loooong one, so I'm going to leave it as an open tag for anyone who wants to do it. Remember to @ me so I can see your answers. Blank template is under the cut 💜

📝 About you

When did you first start writing?

Forfuckingever ago. Seriously. My childhood was littered with 'books' written on folded and stapled sheets of printer paper.

Are the genres/themes you enjoy reading different from the ones you write?

I read pretty widely and definitely enjoy reading the genres and themes that show up in my writing, among many others.

Is there an author (or just a fellow writer!) you want to emulate, or one to whom you’re often compared?

I don't try to emulate anyone, but I'm sure I'm influenced by what I read as much as anyone else is. Someone once described my writing as "if Anne Rice wrote a Bret Easton Ellis book" and I chose to take that as a compliment.

Can you tell me a little about your writing space(s)?

I have a desk in front of a window with a view that I'm in love with. Rolling farmland reaching to mountains in the distance. I've looked at it daily for almost three years and the novelty still hasn't worn off.

What’s your most effective way to muster up some muse?

Absorbing stories from other places. Books, TV shows, films, the persistent horrors of existence.

Did the place(s) you grew up in influence the people and places you write about?

Yes, but not intentionally. And the when is as significant as the where. I didn't notice this until someone else pointed it out and now I can't stop seeing it.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing, and if so, do they surprise you at all?

Drugs, violence, organised crime, fuck the system, weather symbolism, nice coats. No surprise at all tbh.

📝 Your characters

Would you please tell me about your current favourite character?

I can't choose between my children.

Which of your characters do you think you’d be friends with in real life?

Most of them, honestly. If I had to pick one, it would probably be Brett from November Breaks and Spin Cylinder because he's the one with the most of me in him, but it would be a total disaster because the parts of me I dumped on him aren't exactly the best parts.

Which of your characters would you dislike the most if you met them?

I don't know that I'd dislike any of them, but things would get frosty and weird pretty fast if I was in a room with Gillen from Bridge From Ashes and Name From Nowhere.

Tell me about the process of coming up with of one, all, or any of your characters.

There is no process. They just arrive in my head and I write about them to stop them yelling at me.

Do you notice any recurring themes/traits among your characters?

Obsessive tendencies, rejection of authority, masochism, recklessness, enthusiasm for recreational drugs.

📝 Your writing

What’s your reason for writing?

It makes me happy. I wish it was deeper than that, but it isn't.

Is there a specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating coming from your readers?

When someone notices some tiny detail I put in there and didn't expect anyone to pick up on. When someone connects with my characters. When someone feels seen because of something I wrote.

How do you want to be thought of by those who read your work? (For example: as a literary genius, or as a writer who “gets” the human condition; as a talented worldbuilder, as a role model, etc)

I've never really thought about it. Maybe if reading my writing gave someone else the courage to write what they wanted instead of what they've been told they should write? I struggled with that a lot so it would be cool to help someone else through it.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

Character voice, I think? Dialogue? I don't know.

What have you been frequently told your greatest writing strength is by others?

See previous answer 🙈

How do you feel about your own writing? (Answer in whatever way you interpret this question)

It's cheaper than therapy.

If you were the last person on earth and knew your writing would never be read by another human, would you still write?

Yeah. If I was the last person on earth, at least my characters would keep me company while I lost my mind.

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely what you enjoy? If it’s a mix of the two, which holds the most influence?

I write what I enjoy and I assume that if I enjoy it, someone else will too. No matter what you do, there's going to be someone else out there who'll get a kick out of it.

About you When did you first start writing? Are the genres/themes you enjoy reading different from the ones you write? Is there an author (or just a fellow writer!) you want to emulate, or one to whom you’re often compared? Can you tell me a little about your writing space(s)? What’s your most effective way to muster up some muse? Did the place(s) you grew up in influence the people and places you write about? Are there any recurring themes in your writing, and if so, do they surprise you at all?

Your characters Would you please tell me about your current favourite character? Which of your characters do you think you’d be friends with in real life? Which of your characters would you dislike the most if you met them? Tell me about the process of coming up with of one, all, or any of your characters. Do you notice any recurring themes/traits among your characters?

Your writing What’s your reason for writing? Is there a specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating coming from your readers? How do you want to be thought of by those who read your work? (For example: as a literary genius, or as a writer who “gets” the human condition; as a talented worldbuilder, as a role model, etc) What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer? What have you been frequently told your greatest writing strength is by others? How do you feel about your own writing? (Answer in whatever way you interpret this question) If you were the last person on earth and knew your writing would never be read by another human, would you still write? When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely what you enjoy? If it’s a mix of the two, which holds the most influence?

[coltrainbat]

No One Disrespects Chris’s Girl

Summary: Your Chris’s girlfriend and an interviewer talks smack about you.

WARNINGS: Swearing, big mad Chrissy, little angst, protective Chris

A/N: Something about Chris in protective mode makes me... hmmm... you’ll see. 

DISCLAIMER: All characters and events written, even those based on real people are entirely fictional and are no representation or comment of said characters in real life. 

Chris settled himself into the director’s chair as an assistant came over to adjust his mic. 

He was doing press rounds his new movie, and it was his last interview for the day. So far, he had really appreciated some of the questions asked about the movie and his future projects and enjoyed catching up with journalists he had worked with before. But he was eager to get home into bed with you. 

 You preferred your privacy so besides the casual question as to how you were doing, journalists were warned to not venture into asking about your life or your relationship with Chris well before the interview began.

 Chris was getting the run down from Meg, this was a new journalist who Chris hadn’t worked with previously, an online gossip blog called GoFlow, that presented their interviews in video form via YouTube....  blah… blah... Seemed sound enough, nothing Chris hadn’t done before. He was expecting the 20 minutes interview block to go by smoothly, answer some of the questions he had already received with a slight variation, get a photo for their blog, maybe even sign a t-shirt for someone’s nephew and what not. These things were usually very straight forward. 

 It was 10 minutes after 4 and the new guy was already late. It isn’t a great look, but Chris was patient and was happy to go overschedule to get the blog what they needed. 

 In came, came the journalist, talking obnoxiously on the phone in the corner of the room.

 “Yeah bro, I’m interviewing Captain America… its sick! I bet I could get him to come to boys’ night. Holy shit imagines the chicks we’d pull... alright yeah bro I gotta go do this interview I’ll call you back.” 

 Chris looked over to Megan, mouthing ‘what the fuck’ she just shook her head in disappointment making a mental note to blacklist them if this gets any worse. 

 Chris was a little taken back by the brashness of not only taking a phone call from your buddy when you’re 10 minutes late to your job but also to talk so loudly about going for drinks with a guy you haven’t met and using him to pick up chicks? 

 Fuck me. 

 He realised then and there that this guy was not gonna be easy to work with even if it was just for the next 20 minutes. 

 “Hey Chris! Buddy, big fan of your work, I’m Miles, let’s get this started shall we.” 

 Chris offered him a polite handshake “Nice to meet you, Miles.” Not. 

 The red dot on the camera facing the two across from each other, started blinking, signaling it was rolling.

 It started off ok, yeah, he asked the basic questions about filming with said co-star and what training Chris had to go for to pull of stunts etc. But Chris, being the professional he is, hid his tiredness, putting on a smile for the camera, and answered the questions charmingly and honestly. 

 “So, Chris, you’ve been with your girlfriend y/n for 2 years now, correct?”

 “Yeah, I have she’s amazing, couldn’t ask for anyone better to have by my side.”

 Hoping that was the end of it. 

 “From the little info you two have shared with the public it seems she has a regular job that’s got to be kind of different from yours huh?”

 Chris was getting a little agitated about the questions regarding you. Not because he didn’t like talking about you just the fact, he referred to your job as “regular”. Sure, you worked a 9-5 but the work you did for the community was far from ordinary and inspired him daily. 

 “I wouldn’t say she has a regular job per say, yes our jobs are different but she’s just as a passionate and hardworking in her incredible role at (insert organisation) as I am about acting, she does amazing work and I’m incredibly proud of her.”

 “Do you ever question her intentions? I mean it seems like she doesn’t earn a lot of money and it’s probably very convenient for someone like her to shack up with a moneybag like yourself? It’s also interesting you chose her compared to some of the models you have dated in the past. I don’t know about you, but I’d take the model over the chubby normie any day ya know? ha ha.”

 Chris saw red. 

 How dare this guy shows up late and then insult the women he loves to not only suggest she’s using him for money but to call his beautiful partner, “chubby”? How you looked was none of this guy’s fucking business, to compare you to his exes who were exes for a reason was unreasonable. Any suggestion you were a gold-digger was also absolutely ridiculous since you hated Chris spending money on you without reason. You worked hard day in, day out for the things you have and never asked Chris for a dime. 

 “Go fuck yourself.”

 “Ummm excuse me?”

 “You heard me, go fuck yourself. How fucking dare, you show up late, regurgitate basic ass questions and then go onto insult the woman I love.” 

 Chris got up from his seat, ripping off the mic and looming over Miles, a member of his team came forwards lousily placing an arm in between Chris and the douchebag journalist.

 “Ya know its assholes like you I’d take a lot of pleasure in beating the fuck up.” His thick Boston accent prominent in every word he spat. His finger firmly pointed towards the journalist’s throat. 

 The journalist went mute in his seat holding his hands up in defence, practically shivering with fear as to what the 6ft jacked actor was going to do to him. 

 Chris quickly exited the room before he caught a felony for laying his hands on the guy.  

 Chris didn’t tell you what happened in the interview. But he didn’t need to because shortly after someone leaked the clip. 

 The internet went nuts in Chris’s favour. 

 “Chris Evans defends partner against arrogant journalist”   “SWOON ALERT: Chris Evans gets BIG MAD”   “Miles Darcy FIRED after Chris Evans interview stunt”   “101 Reasons Chris Evans is every woman’s dream man staring with his infamous interview in which he defends his girlfriend”   “Don’t F*ck with Chris Evans”   “Chris Evans calls out sexist remarks made against girlfriend”

 While press was good, your main concern was how this reflected on Chris’s image.

 Sat in your shared living room, looking up from your phone as you scrolled through the endless articles on the interview. You looked up at your boyfriend who was pacing the room. Still furious at the comments. 

 “You didn’t have to defend me you know.”

 “I didn’t have to DEFEND you!? Y/N when an asshole says shit about you TO MY FACE, there’s no way in fucking hell, I’m going to sit there and treat em with kindness.”

 “Yeah, I know baby, but you threatened him… on camera!”

 “And you know what? I’d do it again. Nothing and I mean nothing is more important to me then you and my family. You are my family. And no one, especially not some scummy asshole journalist is going to get away with saying that shit about you. It is my job… you get me? MY JOB to protect you.”

 You sighed. He was right. Maybe his approach was extreme, but Chris was stubborn and this time he was stubborn for good reason. The guy was a fucking asshole. 

 You walked towards him, closing the space between you both. Wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down towards your chest. He instantly tightened his grip around you and you could feel him ease into your hug with a heavy sigh.

 “Thank you for defending me.” You whispered into his head. 

 “I’m sorry for yelling but yeah, I don’t regret doing it. And if I ever saw that asshole again, I swear to-”

 “I know.” Pressing your finger to his lips to silence him. You moved him to look at you.  “I know.” Nodding your head for emphasis.

 “I love that about you… the way you’d drop anything to save me, or in this case go absolutely ape shit to defend my honour. And that’s why you’re my real-life superhero, baby.” Your fingers now cupping his jaw.

  And… it was pretty hot watching you get mad at him with your ole boston accent.” You smiled at your protector.

 “God, I love you.” He shook his head leaning down to kiss you. 

[msbigredmachine]

TARGETS - 24 - A Woman’s Instinct

Roman Reigns is an agent in the secret organisation The Authority and one of the world’s deadliest assassins. When he crosses paths with a mysterious woman during an assignment, he makes a life-changing decision that switches his role from the hunter to the hunted.  (AU Espionage Story)

A/N: I’m SO happy that so many of you are enjoying this story. Thank you all for the love!

TARGETS MASTERLIST

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gif by @jeysuso​

Roman sat quietly on the window seat of Leona’s guest room, looking down at the shrubbery below. It was an inconspicuous, harmless-looking garden, but Roman knew Leona had it booby-trapped. He stared out into the distance, his rampant thoughts having kept him awake for hours.

Twenty-four hours had passed since Roman and Jasmine sought refuge in Leona's home. He was still trying to process the fact that he was now a fugitive. He had no job, no home, and it turned out The Authority had frozen his bank accounts and his assets, essentially grounding him if he wanted to flee the country like his girlfriend wanted. The hunter had become the hunted. 

When did things become such a mess? More importantly, why did The Authority want him dead? Because he met Jasmine? Decided to pursue a relationship with her? He hadn't known who she really was until just over three weeks ago. If Xavier Woods was indeed correct and The Authority and F.L.O.R.A. had known their true identities all this time, then why had they not said anything to him? Why hadn't they warned him?

Simple. The Authority had never trusted him.

That was the only explanation he had. He'd played it over and over in his head and that was the conclusion he kept coming to. But if they thought coming after him would change his mind about being with Jasmine, that he would not retaliate in some way or form...then they were gravely mistaken. He'd given The Authority his entire adult life, and they betrayed him simply because he fell in love. Well, he wasn't going down, not without a fight. Not without taking the whole fucking lot of them with him.

“You’re fine as fuck, you know that?”

His girlfriend’s soft, semi-sleepy voice yanked him out of his thoughts. She stared at her boyfriend from her vantage point on the small bed, a dreamy smile on her pretty face. Roman felt his body relax as he returned her smile. He took his foot off the ledge and set it on the floor. “Come here,” he said.

Getting out of the bed, Jasmine strolled over to him. Even wearing just his t-shirt, she looked mesmerizing. He opened his arms out to her and she crawled onto his lap, giving him a soft, gentle kiss in greeting. “Mmm, fine and cuddly. Good morning, my love,” she said, stroking the back of his head.

“Mornin’, baby girl.” Roman held her close, pressing a kiss to her neck as he locked his arms securely around her slender waist. In the months they’d been together, she had woken in him a need for closeness and intimacy that he had never felt before. She showed him a lot of affection and he found himself doing the same with her. It made him feel good. “You comfy like this?” he asked. 

“Mm hmm,” she murmured, hearing his sharp inhale when she shifted, sitting right on his groin. “You alright, baby?”

The smirk in her tone told him his little minx knew exactly what she was doing. “I’m fine,” he murmured through gritted teeth. 

“You sure?” She rolled her hips, deliberately this time. 

“Behave, Leona is right next door,” he warned. This was how she had teased him last night, grinding her ass against his groin as they lay in bed together, with him unable to do anything because they were guests in his former mentor’s house.

“Look at you, getting all pious on me. Thought your self-control was impeccable,” she teased.

Growling, he palmed her ass and rubbed his nose in the crook of her neck. “It used to be. Then I met your sexy ass and all of that went to shit.”

Giggling softly, she massaged the back of his head and kissed his temple. “If that’s your version of a compliment, then thank you.”

Roman chuckled at her little quip and inhaled her scent with a deep sigh. She was all he had left now, the only thing in his life that meant anything to him. Her familiar warmth enveloped him, calmed him. Their arms wrapped a little tighter around each other, savoring this private, peaceful moment. The quiet after the storm. For now.

“It’s my birthday today,” he mumbled into her shoulder.

Taken by surprise, Jasmine pulled back to look into his eyes and realized he was not joking. “Wait, for real?”

“Mm-hmm, but I don’t acknowledge it. It’s just any other day for me.”

“Why?”

Exhaling heavily, Roman pinched the bridge of his nose, already hating the feelings bubbling within him. “My parents split up on my seventh birthday.  Every year after that, my mom would lock me out of the house for the entire day. Said giving birth to me was the worst day of her life and she didn’t need to be reminded of it. Shit went on for years.”

She couldn’t fathom it. In the twelve years she’d known her parents for, she was showered with gifts every year for her birthday. In her father and mother’s eyes, she was their little princess and they treated her as such. It saddened her to know her boyfriend did not grow up with the same happy memories. “I’m sorry to say this, but your mother was a terrible human being,” said Jasmine, barely containing her fury. “How could she treat her own child like that?” 

“Don’t be sorry. It’s the truth.”

“Maybe, but that don’t make it right. She was supposed to love and care for you but she didn’t, and that kills me for you, baby.” She caressed the back of his head, her heart breaking afresh for him. “We’ve never really talked about having kids,” she pointed out. “Is that why? Do you not want any because of your childhood trauma?”

“I don’t know if it’s trauma…”

“Of course it is! From everything you’ve told me, your childhood was a nightmare. You lived in poverty. Your mother had your father murdered. She physically abused you for years. You killed her and her boyfriend. That’s not normal, Roman. Not at all.”

“I have never been normal, baby girl, and I’ve made peace with it. Besides, our line of work is too dangerous to bring children into. You know that.”

“We can teach them to defend themselves,” she replied. “I wish I knew how to fight when I was younger. That way, I could probably have saved my parents...”

They had talked about so much on the train ride to Vermont, including their acutely contrasting upbringing. Jasmine lived a serene life as a child, carefree and sheltered and innocent. It broke Roman’s heart to know that all of that had been brutally ripped away from her, that she had had to witness the horror of her parents’ murder, and was forced to turn to this violent, cold life. “You didn’t stand a chance against five armed men. You were a kid.”

“I could have tried.”

“You can’t possibly blame yourself for their deaths, baby girl. There was nothing you could do.”

She lowered her head, her voice small and sad. “It’s been so hard to come to terms with that. Even after I threw that motherfucker off the roof, it didn’t feel enough. Though I got closure, I didn’t feel all that much better because I was never getting my parents back. My work has been my coping mechanism ever since.”

“And look at us now. All fucked up and killing people for a living. Speaking of, how many?” Roman asked.

“How many what?”

“How many people have you taken out?"

Jasmine's eyes narrowed at the strange question. "Really? You wanna know this because?"

"I'm just curious," he defended. "Just give me a number, then I won't ask anything else, I promise."

Jasmine looked away.

"Okay, I'll go first," Roman offered. She pursed her lips, knowing this was the only way they would move on. "Alright, you first. How many?"

He shrugged, looking at his hands. "Round figure, probably about two hundred, two fifty total. You?"

"Including the man that murdered my parents?" she calculated, "Three hundred and seventy-six."

Roman went pale. "Holy shit!"

"You asked, I told," she shrugged.

"How the hell did you get to that figure?" he exclaimed.

"Some were in groups. Five, ten." She leveled her boyfriend with an amused glare. "Does it bother you?"

Roman swallowed. "No."

Jasmine eyed him for a moment before dissolving into giggles. “Liar. But don’t worry, you’ll get over it,” she whispered with a kiss to his cheek, leaning into him. "I want to get in contact with Rose. Give her a call." When his brows furrowed questioningly, she added, "My colleague from F.L.O.R.A."

"F.L.O.R.A.?" Roman's eyes widened with indignation. "You fuckin’ with me, right?"

"I'm not. I trust her."

"I trust Ambrose and Rollins too but you don't see me making contact with them because it’s too fucking risky! And how do you know you won't lead them all right here with the phone call? What about Leona? She’s already been compromised enough with us just being here."

"Which is why I'm not making the call here, doofus," she explained, genuinely offended that he thought she could make such a rookie mistake. "I'm heading into town in a few days to make the call with a pay phone. Once I'm done, I'll come back here." She rolled her eyes at the disapproving look on his features. "Look, I trust Rose. I know her, and she knows me better than anyone else...including you. I truly believe she has nothing to do with what's going on. Maybe she could help us get out of this mess."

Roman frowned, not happy at all. "Sounds like you've got everything all planned out."

Jasmine sighed. "Baby, don’t start.”

Looking into her eyes, he could tell she was getting upset with him. She was just trying to help, doing what she thought was best to save them both, and he berated himself silently for his petulance. "Sorry. I know I'm being a dick."

"Again," she reminded him.

"Again," he agreed, rubbing her back as he stared up at her. "I just don't want anything to happen to you." 

His voice was quiet, worried, and Jasmine was touched. "I'll be fine. I'm a big girl and I can handle myself. You of all people should know that." Smiling, she traced the lines of his pec tattoo with her finger. "Still...I love that you worry about me."

Roman cupped her face between his big hands and pressed his forehead to hers. "Of course I do. You're my girl and I love you."

"I love you too," she whispered back, right before his lips met hers. The next few minutes were spent kissing and caressing each other with eager mouths and hands. She pulled off her t-shirt, revealing her breasts and her beautiful body. Tossing it aside, her mouth was back on his in a flash, framing his face with both hands as she delved deeper inside his mouth with her tongue. She reached down between their bodies and dipped her hand inside his shorts. His head spun the second her fingers made contact with his hard flesh. “Baby…” he breathed against her lips.

“Hmm?” she murmured distractedly, occupied with trying to suck his lips off his face while stroking his dick with intent.

“Babe, Leona…”

“We’ll be quiet,” she convinced him, taking his hands and placing them on her titties to keep him occupied. He dug in from then, squeezing them eagerly and sucking one nipple into his mouth. Her tits were always soft and perfect and felt just right in his hands. He played with her right nipple with his tongue. The soft, yet firm piece of skin rolled around his tongue as her whimpers were becoming soft moans.

“Shh,” he warned, his voice muffled with a mouthful of titty.

“I can’t help it Daddy, it feels so good,” she gasped, biting her lip as he sucked her other nipple, massaging her breasts with his large hands. His tongue was warm and lashed hungrily at the hardened peak, and she couldn’t stop the moan that escaped her when his teeth grazed it.

Roman stopped and glared playfully at her. “I’ll gag you if I have to,” he said sternly. In the same breath he realized he should have chosen his words more wisely, as the twinkle in her eye told him she was all for it. His sexy little slut. He recaptured her mouth in a deep, branding kiss, tangling his tongue with hers. Jasmine’s hand slid back down, pulling his dick out of his shorts with urgency. Roman grabbed her hand, stopping her.

“How bad do you want it?" he taunted.

"Oh, you doin’ this shit on purpose, aren't you?" Jasmine said.

"Damn right," he smiled.

"Roman, please…." she begged. Her body began to grind against him, desperate for him to be inside her. He relented and allowed her to guide his erect shaft into her. The pair immediately moaned from the intense feeling of her sliding down his length. Knowing that this needed to be quick, Roman rocked Jasmine back and forth on his cock. She reached back to rest her hands on his thighs as she rolled her ass with vigor, taking him deep inside her. The way she handled his dick did things to him. He was bigger than most, but she took that shit like a champ and he couldn’t help but be impressed. She was going in on the dick, riding him better than she had ever ridden him before. Roman rested his head on the window and allowed the pleasure to take over. 

“You are so sexy, babe. You been makin’ me feel some type of way for a long time,” he told Jasmine, caressing her gyrating ass with his lust-filled gaze boring into hers.

“Mmm, I like to hear that, Daddy.” This time she leaned forwards, gripping his shoulders as she continued to grind and roll herself down on him, showering his parted lips with playful kisses and licks. He soon tired of the chase and covered his mouth with hers in a kiss that curled her toes. His big hands slid up and down her waist before landing a sharp slap to her backside, his stomach tightening when she whimpered and he felt her get wetter. Her pussy clenched around his cock and she started bouncing rapidly on him. They moaned breathlessly into each other's mouths in sync with their skin smacking together loudly and wetly in repetition. She was fucking him dumb and he was loving it. 

Letting out another groan, Roman grabbed Jasmine by the hips and guided her up and down his dick with more force. She arched her head back and moaned his name, her nails digging into the skin of his broad shoulders. 

“Mm-hmm, moan my name again, baby…Say my name,” he grunted as he took a handful of her hair and gently pulled.

"Roman…Fuck, Daddy, you hittin’ my spot," she whimpered, her mouth falling open and panting in ecstasy when he held her down on him and rolled his hips upwards from underneath, his dick raking her g-spot over and over. "Oh god, yeah, Roman..."

God, he could listen to her call out for him forever. He felt his dick harden inside her as his release approached. His hands tightened on her hips as he made her ride him harder, too wrapped up in the heat of passion to bother about Leona anymore. Anyone who could see them from outside was getting a hell of a show right now. Jasmine planted her hands on the windowpane for leverage, going up and down on him, up and down, soaking his dick with her wet pussy and making his eyes roll back with a throaty whine. His breathing accelerated with the manic rocking of her hips, as she was clearly determined to make him come, and come hard. 

“Come in me, Daddy, I want your cum inside me,” she whispered.

“Yeah, baby girl? Want me to fill your pussy up with my cum?”

“Uh huh.” She kissed his lips, and then his neck. “Please, Daddy. I want it.”

Her needy, breathy voice was the pin to his grenade. He gripped her ass tightly and arched his hips, cussing loudly as he bust hard and deep inside her. It was like his soul was leaving his body, it felt that amazing. Realizing he had left her behind, he quickly reached down to play with her clit as she kept riding him. Instantly she clamped around his pulsing dick, and he groaned at the sensation, gripping her hair in his fist and giving it another firm tug. Strumming his fingers faster over her clit, he cursed under his breath as he felt her continue to tighten, and moments later, she was screaming into his shoulder, shaking in his arms as she climaxed, collapsing against him when it was all over.

The Samoan was in a daze. His girl just fucked the shit out of him and it blew his mind. Easing her off his dick, he wrapped his arms tightly around her, rubbing up and down her back as her face rested in the crook of his neck, both struggling to catch their breaths as they gradually regained control of their senses. Behind him, the window was fogged up thanks to her heavy breathing on the glass. It was a great start to his morning and he loved every minute of it.

“I should get you a present since it’s your birthday, right?” said Jasmine, lifting her head up to smile at him.

“The only present I want is something to tie up your hands with, some lube, and somewhere we can’t be heard,” Roman answered, letting his hands slide downwards to squeeze her behind. “I plan to make you scream from how good I fuck you tonight.”

Damn. That in itself warranted another kiss, which she happily gifted him. “I’ll see about it.”

“Good girl.”

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After showering and getting dressed, Jasmine headed downstairs and found Leona bustling about in the kitchen. She noticed how much the older woman liked to cook, like to keep herself busy in the kitchen. A coping mechanism, perhaps. It was not uncommon among retired assassins. 

"Do you need some help?" she offered.

Leona looked up and smiled. "Yes, please. Help me cut those up." She pointed at some carrots and bell peppers, a chopping board and a kitchen knife. "I'm making stir-fry. Chicken and vegetables. Is that okay?”

"Definitely. That sounds tasty. Do you know it’s his birthday today? I’d like to do something nice, like make a flourless cake for him," Jasmine pointed out, and blushed at the small smile Leona threw her way. "What?"

"Nothing. It's just nice to see two young people in love, against all odds," Leona commented.

A loving smile lit up the former F.L.O.R.A agent’s face. "I didn’t know I could ever feel like this about anybody. I care so much for him, Leona."

"I know. I see the way you look at each other and treat each other. Both of you are beautiful together." 

There was something regretful about Leona's tone that triggered the curiosity that had lingered within Jasmine since the day they arrived, rather unceremoniously, at her doorstep.

"You're not really retired, are you?" she said, her eyes on Leona, and she watched as the older woman froze, her kitchen knife suspended in mid-air. When she didn't respond, Jasmine seized the opening and barreled on. "When Roman and I showed up...you were clearly anticipating someone when you tackled me. You thought we were being followed. I got a feeling you've never treated Roman like that before. Plus you've still got weapons hidden everywhere and a rigged garden. I know that's the standard of living for a retired assassin. We never really feel safe, even after all is said and done." Jasmine peered closely at Leona, who still hadn't moved. "But there's something more. You're hiding from someone. You've been hiding all this time."

Leona slowly turned, and Jasmine saw the truth radiating in her eyes. A sardonic chuckle left the older woman's lips. "Roman's known me for years and I don’t think he’s ever guessed. You've only been here twenty-four hours and you've already figured it out. I've underestimated you."

"Let's just say it's a woman's instinct," Jasmine offered.

Leona remained silent, but Jasmine could hear the faint echo of that wordless mental scream grow louder and louder, as whatever secret anguish the former assassin had carried within herself all this time was dragged back to the surface. Jasmine approached her, placing a hand on her arm. The gesture seemed to literally rip Leona away from her thoughts and bring her back to reality. Jasmine met her gaze solemnly. "You can tell me," she encouraged.

For a long time, Leona did not move. Then, she looked around the kitchen for a moment, her expression remorseful, as though apologizing for tainting her place of Zen with her morbid memories. She gently led Jasmine to the table and sat her down. Taking a deep breath, she began to speak.

"I was an agent at The Authority for many years, and I served as Director for most of my time there. The current Director was my protégé back then. I taught him everything he knew, and we worked well together. My story is quite similar to yours. I fell in love with a man, a target I was supposed to eliminate. His name was Dwayne. He was a bodybuilder who wanted to be an actor. He had big, big dreams." A small smile crossed her face at the memory. "I loved him the moment I laid eyes on him. He was just so different and so amazing. We began seeing each other, but he didn't know who I really was, what I did for a living, and he was better off not knowing if I was going to keep him safe. I lied about taking out Dwayne and kept him a secret, and for a long time it worked.

"Until Hunter found out. He told me to either eliminate Dwayne, or give up my position as Director of the Authority. Either way, he planned to expose me. I always knew he wanted power but I never realized he would blackmail me. I agreed to kill Dwayne, but instead I tried to hide him away. I knew my actions had consequences, but I didn't care what they did to me. All I cared about was that I loved Dwayne, and Dwayne loved me. I had to tell him everything, and he listened the entire time. Not once did he judge me. Not once. I put his safety first. He was the only thing that mattered to me."

"Did he escape?" Jasmine asked, although she could already guess the answer.

Leona's eyes glazed over. "No. The Authority found him, and they executed him right in front of me. Put three bullets in his head. His head was blown apart before the third bullet hit..." The older woman trailed off, pressing a hand to her mouth to keep from sobbing. Jasmine watched in silence, unsure whether to comfort her or not.

Leona had composed herself enough to speak again, ending Jasmine's internal debate. "I knew…I knew Hunter was in love with me. He'd mentioned it a number of times to me in private, but I never took him seriously. I didn't feel that way about him, and even if I did, it was a risk for us to ever have a relationship in the kind of environment we were in. He accused me of choosing love over my duties to The Authority, but I knew the truth. He felt betrayed that I chose another man, a civilian, over him. So he sent people after us. They abducted me and Dwayne and they murdered him. Then they tortured me, bound and gagged me and threw me into the deepest part of the Hudson River; all on Hunter's orders. He stood there and let Dwayne die, he watched them toss me into that water like I was a bag of trash, and he didn't even flinch."

Jasmine felt a sense of guilt ripple through her. She herself had done many a dump job before, but this was the first time it was invoking an emotional response in her. "I'm so sorry."

Leona's tears had given way to a resigned numbness. It would never be easy reliving that part of her life. "I survived. I still don't know how I did it, but I did. Washed up on dry land after managing to free myself of my bonds. I could have fled the country but I decided to come to Vermont. All these years have passed and I'm here, still biding my time. I will avenge Dwayne, and Hunter will die by my own hand. That's a promise."

"Roman doesn't know about any of this?" said Jasmine.

"No." The older woman shook her head. "Over the years he's provided me with all the information I need on how to get to Hunter, though unwittingly. I didn't mean to use him, but I ended up doing so." A faint smile tickled at the corner of her lips. "I remember the first day he found me. At first I thought Hunter sent him, but I saw in his eyes that he had no idea what was going on. I just told him I retired quietly. My first thought was to kill him and tie up a loose end, but I just couldn't. Honestly," A warm smile grew, "I've always been fond of him."

"Yeah, he's charming like that," Jasmine agreed, a bashful grin on her face at the thought of her boyfriend.

Leona studied the younger woman for several seconds. "I see myself in you, you know," she spoke softly, reaching out to take her hand. "You remind me of me during that time. I see the conflict in your eyes. You want to go on the run because it's the only way you feel you can protect Roman. That the further you run the harder it will be to find you. But in the end...they always find you. We both know that. These people are equipped with enough resources to find you no matter where you go, and it won't end unless you stop them, or they stop you. So I need to know something, Jasmine, and I need you to be honest with me. Just how much do you love Roman?"

Her answer was sincere and passionate, "More than my own life."

"Then you must fight for him," Leona told her with equal emotion. "You're both strong enough to put a stop to this. Do not let these people have a say in your lives anymore because they won't stop until both of you are dead. Fight with him, because I know he's doing this for you. Show him that you're on the same page."

"I am, and I will," Jasmine replied, her eyes ablaze with resolve.

As the two women continued to talk, Roman stood quietly by the entrance of the kitchen, out of sight, having heard every word. That itching sensation in his hands surfaced again, as he imagined them wrapped around Hunter Hearst Helmsley's throat.

---------------------

Despite the inconvenience, Leona was a gracious, generous host. Joining forces with Jasmine, they whipped up quite the spread, making several extra dishes for what ended up as a party, as well as a tasty chocolate cake for Roman. She even found some old party hats, balloons and streamers to decorate the kitchen with. It was hilarious seeing one of those tiny pointy hats perched on Roman’s big head. As thrown together as the party was, the birthday boy couldn’t be happier to celebrate his birthday with the two most important women in his life.

As she loaded up the dishwasher, Leona glanced over at the startlingly attractive couple sitting at the kitchen counter, smiling softly as she watched Jasmine feed Roman cake with a fork, in between sharing sweet kisses. They really were cute together. “By the way…I got a basement downstairs. It’s soundproof,” she announced.

There was a devious gleam in her eyes that piqued the couple’s curiosity. They looked at each other, their eyes widening with realization. “Oh?” Roman finally spoke, as Jasmine blushed profusely. Yeah, she definitely heard them going at it this morning.

“Mm-hmm. That’s if you’re interested. There’s a big bed…and a box of toys…Not sure what y’all like, but there’s enough to entertain yourselves with. Y’all knock yourselves out. Not literally, of course.” With a wink, she washed her hands and left the couple to process all she had just told them.

An embarrassed Jasmine ducked her head in Roman’s shoulder as the big man grinned from ear to ear. “You’re the best, Leona!” he called out after her.

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Thoughts?

Credit to the owners of the pics and gifs.

Please leave comments! I love comments!

[warmandrotting]

Wildflower and Barley

three snippets of a relationship yet to be developed | AO3

‘And here I thought Miss Miracle had forgotten the way to the laboratory’, Plant says the moment she walks in, flushed from running upstairs to make it on time.

She didn’t make it in time obviously, late to the experiment she’d been preparing for the whole week. Elara would give her reasons if she didn’t know the way people take them for excuses and she had no interest in listening to Professor Plant get on her case about excuses, Miss Miracle, it’s always excuses with you. It wouldn’t matter anyways, the base potion had already gone bad.

Ran all the way here for nothing, she thinks, something like anger but not really - defeat, perhaps - slithering its way up her chest.

‘I’m sorry, professor’, she says blankly. Plant leans forward, as if expecting her to go on but she didn’t. Elara really didn’t want to hear his whole spiel about excuses and tardiness and expectations and disappointments again. 

She walks inside, taking off her coat - wet from the coffee that Aroi had thrown at her. That whole confrontation in the cafeteria - Aroi coming in screaming about her grades, yelling that Elara had purposefully given her less marks due to jealousy (what.) - had taken up the time she was supposed to use to get here with the last of the ingredients. Instead, she had gone to the east wing bathrooms, had a mild breakdown of sorts, tried to clean her clothes to the best of her ability and then come to the lab, still somewhat in a daze. Stars, she was tired. She wanted to get this whole thing (cleaning the failed experiment and Plant’s you should do better speech) to be done already.

As she moves around, taking the tubes with multiple base things - all bad now - she doesn’t notice the way the redhead straightened up at her non-answer and strange behaviour. Usually, Elara Miracle was a force to be reckoned with; today, however, she was tired.

He starts, voice quiet, ’Where was Miss Miracle, anyways? Certainly, even someone as disorganised as you would not miss this.’

She scoffs. I’m very organised, thank you very much. She rolled the words around her mouth, trying to find the ones that would both explain and shut her teacher up. 

‘I got caught up in some stuff at the cafeteria. Couldn’t get out soon enough’

The noise that leaves Plant’s mouth is nothing short of disgust. It makes that same old shame leak into her chest. A voice, saccharine sweet and the same shade as the green of Chris’ favourite shirt, rings in her head. A familiar sentence. Never quite enough, are you, my sweet? This is why you’re here, darling, no-one else could stand your mess.

As Plant starts up his usual speech, Elara lets her mind wander.

Elara sent him the message for her absence, early in the morning. Simple and to the point. 

Can’t come today. Am sick. Will be there tomorrow. He hadn’t even fully woken up himself when he’d seen the message in his receiver. Still bleary-eyed with sleep as the machine read it out in a mechanical voice - supposed to sound like the sender but it rarely ever did. He promptly went back to sleep, afterwards. 

It was only later when he was going over the arrangements for the day that Elara’s absence made itself known. Usually, it was the girl who finalised his schedule after checking with him. Loathe as he is to admit it, it messes up his routine more than a little. The girl’s not his assistant, but she stepped into the role of it with ease, enough that her lack now fucks up the entirety of his morning.

It’s his fault technically, he hasn’t had an apprentice in ages, he keeps mixing her role up with the empty role of the assistant. He needs to send out the notice for the position, depending on a teenager to organise his professional life is a disaster waiting to happen, even if Elara’s been nothing but competent. Most of the day went fine, he took his classes, he kept looking for the familiar shape of the strange creature he called his apprentice, he took his coffee. A good day, all in all.

He was on his way to the communal staff room (it used to be a common room for students until the teachers took over), when he saw Aaron, looking worried out of his mind. Before Plant could even get a word out, the other man was on him, 'Did you see Elara today?'

'She's absent. Sick, according to the message she sent', Plant replies. 'What's wrong?'

He starts walking towards his destination, again. His friend followed.

Aaron averts his eyes, the worried expression still there. 'James told me that she was vomiting in between classes yesterday.' 

‘I heard.’ - it was all that some of the students would talk about - ‘She'll be fine by tomorrow. It must be a bug or something.' 

His friend doesn't look any less worried, if anything the concern had now twisted itself into genuine panic. It isn't as if Plant hadn't noticed Aaron's overly soft spot for the kid. It was strange. Sure, Aaron was nice and kind to every student of his, but something about Elara had the man changing everything. It's not like he'd forgotten the random gifts he'd given the girl at the start of the term, making up dumb excuses.

Plant sighs. ‘Kids get sick all the time, you know. It’d be weirder if she never got sick at all.’

‘I know, I know. I just……forget sometimes. She’s so young.’ Aaron huffs a laugh. ‘She’s like the youngest student I’ve ever had.’

Plant gets it. In a room full of people in their mid to late-twenties, a seventeen year old looks practically like a baby. ‘Still, hide your favouritism a little, would you? It’s unbecoming for a senior professor to be swayed by something like age.’

The smile that he gets in return is secretive, an if only you knew. Plant would like to know about what’s going on between his student and his oldest friend. But that would require asking and he had never been good at that. Not when they were young, certainly not now. He would probably die without knowing if Aaron ever felt they had the chance.

For a bunch of old people, you guys really don’t have your shit together. Didi’s voice rang out in his head. They were right, as always.

The potion takes longer than they thought to finish. A lot longer. Midnight has already started marching away to make space for the darkest part of the night, just before dusk. She looks out the window. The night is warm. She can hear the quiet hum of the lullaby the wind is singing, the light snores from the ancient trees around their campus and many other hushed sounds of the universe. Usually, it’s overwhelming, despite having lived with these sounds her whole life, but right now it’s just soothing.

She breathes in.

Plant is finishing up the last of his personal report. His pen making a scratching sound on the rough page. They’re both already dressed to leave, only their coats hanging at the door of the office-cum-lab. Elara had sent a message to Chris earlier that she’d be late, to not wait up and to not make dinner for her. Knowing him, she’d probably find extra food for her in the kitchen anyway. The thought sends sincere affection rushing through her. My best friend.

‘Shall we leave?’ Plant asks, breaking her out of her reverie. She straightens up and nods.

He’d told her when the experiment ran into midnight that he’d drop her off himself. Elara had argued, obviously, that her house was in the second town. Too far away from the campus for Plant to be making a ride there and then back.

‘That is exactly why’, he’d said, ‘I’m going to escort you there myself. It’s too late for a teenager to be walking around alone.’ 

Elara hadn’t told him that she had walked around much more dangerous places and came out alive and fine. Wasn’t sure if that would have deterred him much. Professor Aaron had become strangely overbearing after hearing that fact; she isn’t sure if she could deal with Professor Plant acting like that, unlikely though it may be.

They get out of the lab. Elara locks it while the professor goes to get his car out of the parking lot. Once done, she walks out of the campus and towards the backgates where she’d been told to come. Plant’s car is an old model of VH, still sleek despite its age. She finds it easy enough, it’s the only car around after all. She’s travelled in his car before a few times. Being taken to meetings of his where he required someone to carry his stuff for him and all but that’s it. Elara usually takes the bus back home, either by herself or with Chris.

‘Hyacinth Lane, right? That’s where you live’, Plant says as the car gets out the gate and on the road.

Elara hums, ‘House number 14.’

‘Pretty far back, no? You could’ve found something nearer to the university,’

‘We took what was available at the time.’ She leans back in the seat, exhaustion finally settling in her bones. ‘Going to the university wasn’t something I’d considered. It wasn’t even an option. We wanted to get something moderately sized that was somewhat close to a market and we got it, so…’

There were other things, of course, that played a part. Like the fact that their house was most likely haunted and somewhat sentient and had imprinted on them the moment they’d walked in. It was pretty cheap to get so neither her nor Chris had cared much. Better than renting a place.

‘With how smug you were during the entrance results, I would’ve thought that going to university was the only priority.’ Plant glances at her, his gaze and voice both amused.

‘Even if going to the university was a priority, I still wouldn’t have taken admission this year. Too many things on my plate to deal with academics over it but then the whole thing with Aroi and you happened and well…..My spite won over my logic.’

Plant frowns at that but doesn’t reply. The rest of the drive passes quietly. Elara too tired to bother making conversation and the professor lost in his thoughts. Nearly 45-ish minutes later they reach Hyacinth Lane. She points him towards her house, at the end of the lane where the Swallows Street starts towards the forest.

‘Just here’, she says when they make it in front of her home. ‘This is my place.’

Plant opens the door for her, peering at the house. The lights were still on. Everyone was still waiting for her to come back. Elara can’t quite help the relief that washes over her. No matter the fact that liked going to the university, her home would still make her feel more human. 

‘See you on Monday, then.’ Plant says as she gets out.

She thanks him for the ride. He waves but doesn’t drive away. Elara slowly - looking back at the car - starts walking towards the house. Once she’s in front of the door, she waves. It’s only when she’s inside that she hears the car start up and drive away.

[b-mina]

Answering @galvanizedfriend here because I accidentally deleted your ask which was so clumsy of me!

Stripper AU aka To Dancing and Second Chances

Caroline has a one night stand in Vegas with someone that ends up being the same guy who's hired her best friend to strip for a bachelor party that weekend - only she fills in, and ends up inciting a full-on brawl between brothers as soon as Klaus realizes the situation...

No real draft here unfortunately, it's mainly just an idea I've been playing around with.

HOWEVER, you asked about the Morning Show WIP too and I happen to have quite a lot of material on that one! So, here you go. Enjoy:

Morning Show AU

Caroline works at a morning news show and is prepping for an interview with some ceo/owner/whatevs of some organisation that has recently gotten a lot of bad press and need to smooth things over with the public.

Enter: a smug, smirking, too-good-looking-to-be-legal narcissist who mistakes her for a PA and drops some comment about his brother "Sending a pretty face his way to make things easy for him."

Well, that's just not going to work for Caroline, who only started this gig as a stepping stone for some real, hard-truth journalism. So, when the show starts and the guy is shortly thrown off by her being one of the co-anchors, she finds that she quite enjoys watching the lopsided all-knowing face of his drop. But as her colleagues go on to puff him up with soft questions and basically just offering him some easy publicity, she decides to jump in with some questions of her own. Going off-script and totally putting him in the hot seat. Even throwing his words back in his face...

(an excerpt from the draft:)

"So, Mr. Mikaelson..." she began, starting in one direction as she was about to follow up on the subject of his most recent philanthropic work... but finding herself taking a completely different path. "Where do you stand on the leaked news of members of your organisation using radical means to protest your own product?"

She isn't surprised when he repeats his perfectly rehearsed line from some diplomacy handbook about "bad apples". But she's not letting him off that easy.

"So, you don't find yourself responsible for the sort of message that your people are sending out into the world?"

A tiny smirk pulls at the corners of his mouth, a light shining in his gaze as if catching onto her challenge. He folds his hands on the table before him, shrugging lightly as he responds. "Well, we have currently about 20.000 men and women within our employ, and while we do our best to ensure that everyone keeps true to our codes of conduct, I hardly believe it fair to-"

Her head snapped up at that. "Fair to what, Mr. Mikaelson?" she interjected, smiling the brilliantly sweet pageant smile that won her Miss Mystic three times in a row. Her eyes cold as she could barely keep them from rolling at his words.

"To assume - nay, hope that you as leader of the company take your role seriously. And that you not believe yourself exempt from the very same agenda which your employees have been spreading on social media as well as in the press these past few weeks..." she pressed, imitating his shrug. "Unless, of course, you do not consider yourself in control of your employees?"

"If you are asking me whether I am in a position to dictate my workers' opinions, Ms. Forbes. Then the answer is no."

"Right. You're just in a position to dictate their visibility, their platform, their contributions to your workforce." she listed off nonchalantly. "No, I get it. I suppose you are right in distancing yourself from the protests and the current acts of civil unrest on your part... Since, it appears to me that you are merely there to look the part. No more than a... pretty face. Did I get that right, Mr. Mikaelson?"

The way he was watching her spit his own insult back at him, with something dark and all-knowing, made her ears burn as she waited for a reply. Silence hung heavy between them while the other anchors had lost their voices already and both the audience and the rest of the cast held their breaths in anticipation. Clearly expecting the man to blow up, to throw his mic in the air - or worse, at her - or to simply storm off in protest.

But instead, he smiled. Nodding slowly as he licked his lips in thought. The room immediately relaxed as he seemed to not take any offence after all. "Well, Ms. Forbes..." he drawled, his voice rasping just slightly and giving his barely-contained rage away to the reporter as she struggled not to smile in triumph. Pleased to have rattled him. "I suppose you have me all figured out."

To be continued...

[korgbelmont]

Male MC (Nick Taylor) x Stacy Green

A Valentine's Special

After everything that's happened with the Shadows and facing death as a Nighthunter, Nick has reflected on the kind of life he wants to live, which leads to a big decision...

Written in the present tense

Tagging: @choicesficwriterscreations, @jerzwriter

Warnings: None

Word Count: 937

Notes: I don’t own these characters, they are the property of Pixelberry Studios.

A New Chapter made on cooltext.com

Sat at his desk, Nick writes an entry in his journal.

'I thought once the Blade of Morella was gone, the Shadows that messed with me were gone, but I was wrong. Turns out that a piece of that darkness remained within me.

I travelled to New Orleans with Stacy by request of Ivy and Ava to meet with a woman known as Valax. Like the blade, she too was from Morella, and she was able to remove the last piece of shadow that was being used as some kind of signal by something from her realm. I wasn't given the specific details, but it I do know that that small piece of shadow was dangerous.

Once this was all dealt with, she took some of the light and shadow that was already part of me and used it to create a sword before she returned home. But before she did, she told me that I was balanced between the light and dark.

I admit I don't know what this means going forward. But I have been left to question my role as Nighthunter, and if it is still the path I should walk. The thought of walking away from it all and living a quiet, peaceful life is very tempting, but I know it is not just my decision to make.'

Leaning back in his chair, Nick checks the time before getting to his feet and heading out to the kitchen. Shadow sleeps on the chair, and Nick gives her a quick stroke before switching the oven on and getting a few things out.

Getting out of her car, Stacy is hit by the smell of something cooking the moment she gets to the door.

Stacy - Wait, is he...?

Opening up, she finds Nick working in the kitchen and walks over, keeping to the doorway.

Nick - Hey you.

He gives her a quick kiss as he walks past.

Stacy - I thought you said you had something booked for us.

Nick - Yeah, I didn't book. This was my plan all along.

Stacy smiles, rolling her eyes slightly.

Stacy - Anything I can do to help?

Nick - No, I'm all good, thanks. You sit and relax, it'll be ready in about ten minutes.

Stacy - Alright, well I'm going to go change into something less professional and more comfortable.

She leaves Nick to his organised kitchen chaos, heading to the bedroom, but as she walks past, she notices a drawing of Valax and the Blade of Morella in his journal and looks them over. Her smile turns to shock as she reads the latest entry, batting a glance over at the kitchen.

Stacy - (I wonder where his mind is at with it...)

After changing, Stacy exits to find Nick setting two plates down and lighting some candles.

Stacy - Smells amazing.

Nick - Hope you like it.

He chucks a few bits on the kitchen surface before switching the light off and they both take a seat, digging in.

Stacy - Oh wow, that's delicious!

Nick smiles as they continue to eat.

Nick - Happy Valentine's day, Stacy.

They both lean in, sharing a soft kiss. When they part, Stacy touches her forehead to his.

Stacy - I love you.

Nick - Love you too.

After, they relax on the sofa under a blanket with one of Stacy's favourite movies, but she grabs the remote and pauses, sitting up.

Nick - You okay?

Stacy - That's what I was going to ask you.

Nick - I don't follow.

Stacy - I saw your latest entry in your book. About walking away from your life as a Nighthunter.

Nick leans forward, taking a deep breath.

Nick - It's felt strange these past few weeks, after the whole Sword and Valax thing, I just don't if I can continue.

Stacy - I know I said I wanted to keep all that separate from our relationship, but that's not the case anymore. Look, you face the possibility of not coming home every job you take, what is it about this that has you spooked?

Nick - It's because there's always the chance of not coming back. It's one thing dealing with some zombies or a ghost, but this... being used by something I don't even know to invade, it scared me.

Stacy - Nick... Things aren't as they were. But no matter what, whatever decision you make, I'll back you.

Nick nods and she moves to wrap him up from behind. Resting his hand on her arm, Nick closes his eyes for a moment, enjoying her warmth, making him more sure than ever.

Nick - That's not all I've been thinking about.

Stacy -What else is going on in that head of yours?

Chuckling, Nick goes to stand before reaching into his pocket and turning to face Stacy, getting down on one knee. He opens up the box, revealing a ring. Stacy's eyes widen, realising what is happening.

Nick - Stacy Green, will you marry me?

She nods, pulling him to her.

Stacy - Yes.

She captures his lips with hers in a deep kiss. Both only able to smile when they part. Nick places the ring on her finger, holding her.

Nick - I know there's a lot I'm questioning right now. But being with you isn't one of them.

Stacy - Good. Because neither am I.

She goes to stand, taking both his hands in hers and quickly switches the TV off before taking Nick to the bedroom to celebrate their engagement and the beginning of the next chapter in their lives.

[nought-shall-go-ill]

Was thinking about TOHOTS in the car today 🥰 wanted to drop by and share some love for the world you’ve created there!

This was sent so very long ago, and I’m so so sorry for that — but guess what world I was looking back on last night?

Technically, TOHOTS is still very much on hiatus as I get my life together a little, but because of that — and because I love it still so very much — I thought I’d share a rather large and unedited snippet from Chapter 6.

Anyway, thank you always for your kindness and support, @kay-elle-cee . Please take this as a token of my gratitude.

December 1975

“Where’d you even find this place anyway, Mare?” asked Lily.

She, Mary and Marlene were tightly tucked — feet pressed against the wall, knees near faces — into a small nook by the Transfiguration office, each with a neatly rolled cigarette in their hand. It was past 1 o’clock in the morning

“Potter,” replied Mary on an exhale. “I caught him coming here after Potions the other day.”

“I thought Potter didn’t smoke?” said Marlene. She was fiddling nervously with the Zippo lighter the girls had just used.

“Probs goes for a bit of a chug between classes,” answered Mary, making a lewd gesture towards Lily. She had in recent months developed on a strange sort of whim the belief that James Potter fancied her.

Lily answered in kind by raising her middle finger. Mary blew her a kiss.

“Shit. Someone’s coming,” muttered Marlene, just moments after Lily had heard the footsteps herself.

The girls put their fags out on the wall and watched in silence as McGonagall entered their frame of vision. A tall boy with his head drooping down to his shoulders followed behind her. It took Lily a moment to realise it was Sirius Black.

“You will wait here,” ordered McGonagall with a snap of venom rare even for her.

Sirius simply looked up and stared at her, his grey eyes sharp and cold.

The three girls shared a look.

“I need to organise your punishment,” she continued. “You heard the headmaster. We will do our best to deal with this discreetly but it will be a year of detentions at least.”

Sirius nodded, but his jaw was still tight, his expression like ice.

“Do not move from this spot.”

McGonagall turned on her heel and stormed into the office, leaving Sirius behind to slump against the adjacent wall.

“What do you think he did?” whispered Mary.

“Dark magic?” suggested Marlene. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen McGonagall that angry.”

“Naw,” replied Mary, moving forward slightly to get a closer look. She had always been the bravest of the three. “The Gryffindor boys don’t practice dark magic.”

Lily couldn’t help but think that comment was more than just a little pointed, so she bit her tongue, turning to face Sirius once more.

She wanted to believe Mary — and she would, just days later, when the first of the attacks occurred — but right then all she could think about was just just how terrifying Sirius looked.

Leant against that wall, he was somehow rigidly still — like a bloodhound that had sniffed out its prey — his features straight and emotionless, his eyes as wicked as the prisoners of The Prophet’s pages.

But then something caught his attention — the lingering smell of cigarette smoke, most likely — and he raised his head, inhaling deeply through his tall, aristocratic nose.

And he laughed.

It was a deep, echoing, dark bark of a laugh.

Whatever he’d done, Lily thought to herself, he certainly didn’t seem to feel guilty about it.

***

December 1980

“I have business to attend to this morning, Lily,” said Dumbledore as he and Lily reached the entryway where James was standing. “But I will return in a few hours to let you know the exact details of your new role.”

“Thank you, sir,” Lily replied, though the old man had already made it halfway back to the barn.

“Right,” said James, rocking back and forth on his heels. “Shall we get started?”

“Not before she’s had breakfast,” came another voice from behind the door, and out popped Emmeline’s head following it.

Before Lily could explain she had already eaten, the older woman had firmly guided her to the kitchen where she found Nicolas sitting next to a large pile of pastries. He had a mirror in his hand that he was staring at intently.

“Lily!” he exclaimed looking up at her with a bright smile. He had healed a lot since she had last seen him, yet some of the scars were still stubbornly scabbed across his wizened face. “Wonderful to see you here, my dear! Please help me finish some of these off. Emmeline here likes to feed the five thousand.”

Emmeline laughed, but nonetheless, brought another teeming pile of pastries to the kitchen island. James picked up a croissant off the top, smirking knowingly at the whole scenario.

“Well, I want you both to feel at home,” said Emmeline, settling a plate down in front of Lily.

“Emmie, darling,” came — to Lily’s astonishment — a voice from the mirror, “I’ve told you, he has a grapefruit at home and that’s it.”

Nearly a decade in the Wizarding world, and it was still surprising Lily — it wasn’t every day that Perenelle Flamel’s voice came out of a household object after all.

James seemed to have picked up on this shock though, as he smiled gently and added:

“This is a little invention of Sirius’. We thought it would be a good way for Nic and Perry to stay in touch.”

“Ah,” she replied, uncertain of his informality. Even she was hesitant to call the Flamels by their nicknames, and she had known them for nearly three years.

“You know Perry,” said Nicolas. “Always so keen to be back with her hydrangeas.”

“Je te l'ai dit plein de fois, c'est pas la saison des hydrangea!” replied an irritated Perenelle.

James and Lily chuckled.

“You’ve got to be nicer to Herbologists, Nicolas,” said James, taking the seat next to Lily and another pastry she didn’t recognise. “They could kill us all with just a few seeds.”

“That’s the sort of common sense I need in a husband,” said Perenelle, though turning her head Lily could see that the handsome face of the 600-year-old woman was bright and smiling in the small mirror.

“Now, Lily,” interrupted Emmeline from the cupboard. “As you’ll be spending quite some time with us, you must choose your own mug.”

Emmeline levitated about 30 mugs at Lily’s eye height. She couldn’t help but notice about half of them had a lion emblem on them in some manner or another.

“There’s a lot of Gryffindor here,” Lily remarked, giggling just slightly and taking one that had just a subtle Gryffindor crest on the base. James grinned widely as she did so.

“Mmm,” grimaced Emmeline, transporting the rest of the mugs back with an elegant swish. “Fleamont — may he rest in peace — was a wonderful man, but, Merlin, his enthusiasm for Gryffindor was a touch… much.”

James laughed — a warm, welcoming, gentle hug of a laugh — tipping his chair back with his head.

“Much is subjective, Em, don’t you think?”

“Hmmm.”

“What house were you in Emmeline?” enquired Lily. Nicolas and Perenelle had picked up a quiet conversation in French next to her.

Emmeline raised her eyebrow, a daring look.

“Slytherin, dear.”

Lily blinked. Of all the Slytherins she knew, Emmeline certainly didn’t seem like one of them.

“Oh,” was all she could reply.

James laughed again, though this time Lily didn’t find it quite so welcoming.

“Oh?” continued Emmeline, her eyebrow still raised. “Didn’t expect that? And they told me you have a Slytherin best friend, dear. I thought maybe you’d be a little different.”

“Of course, there’s nothing wrong with Slytherin,” Lily added quickly, feeling the flush rise in her cheeks.

“Well…” remarked James with a chuckle, and Emmeline simply rolled her eyes at him.

“I’m just teasing, sweetheart. Though I do wish some people,” Emmeline gave a pointed look at James, “would be a little nicer about the rival school houses. I’m hoping you might be able to help there.”

“Me? Why?” replied Lily, taking a pastry for want of something to do with her hands.

“I hear you were quite a force to be reckoned with back in the day. Standing up for all that needed it, regardless of their house, and even if they were Slytherin. Quite an anomaly unfortunately, even in my day…”

James nodded along encouragingly, and it made Lily feel quite sick.

It was true. Lily had done that. She had taken pride in doing that, in fact, for years during her schooldays. She had been blessed with a confidence that many teenagers lacked, and well, it was horrible to just sit there and watch people be teased, people be bullied, Gryffindor or not. What else was she supposed to do? It wasn’t just Sev and Mary who dealt with the cruelty of bullies.

But somewhere along the line that had all stopped. She had stopped.

She wondered when she had stopped.

“I hear this one was one of the worst offenders,” added Emmeline with the sort of sternness of a mother or beloved teacher.

Lily nodded, uncomfortable with where this was going.

Because that was true too, wasn’t it? She wondered also when James had stopped being so cruel.

Had he?

The silence of the English speakers in the room hung stagnant for just a moment before James spoke.

“She really used to rip into me, Em,” He tried to smile at Lily, but she looked away with a dash. “But I deserved it.”

Something about this comment awoke a sprinkle of untapped bravery.

“Well, yes, you did,” said Lily, and not only Emmeline, but Nicolas and Perenelle laughed at the comment. As did James, who caught her eye on the pause, though she could not read what he was trying to say.

“Ok. Fair.” He held up his hands in mock surrender. “I deserve that. But how about we start that tour before my head swells up so big that I can’t fit through the doorways?”

It was Lily’s turn to smile now. That had been one of her most commonly used insults for him in fourth year.

****

Linfred Farm was even more beautiful (and magical) than Lily had realised.

There were more than a dozen rooms on the property, each one decorated in the sort of cosy Englishness that she was sure had only ever truly existed in mind rather than manner: William Morris prints, paintings of rolling hills, piles and piles of mismatched toys and books and other signs of a comfortable life in the country. It was the sort of place that James could show her around with pride — and indeed he did.

She mostly just listened intently — only adding the small, insignificant comment here and there — still unsure of how their relationship was now defined after the events of the previous month.

“Emmeline has set up your room in the nursery again,” he told her, stopping by the yellow-filled child’s room where she’d stayed before. “But please feel free to change. There’s a number of rooms available.”

“Oh no. It’s fine, thank you. Here will do quite well.”

How strangely formal they were being. If only Mary could see her now…

“Right, well, eerrr. That’s it.” He pulled a hand through his thick, dark hair. “I suppose I should get you back to Nicolas. He usually enjoys some television at this time of morning.”

She had watched an episode of Play Your Cards Right with Nicolas last time she was there, but the idea of the very old man tucked up before a television set was still a strange idea to her.

“I never had Nicolas down for such a telly fan,” she remarked.

“You’re not?” enquired James. He beckoned for her to go down the stairs before him.

“Oh, um, I guess not. I don’t own one.”

She didn’t imagine it would go down well with Severus if they did. Not that she blamed him. Muggle items were a contentious point for very understandable reasons.

Still, her mother had loved her films so much when she was a child.

“I love it!” said James, with the enthusiasm of a small infant. “Well, I love cinema. Dorcas has really got me into it. Those moving pictures — what a feat of transfiguration. Of course, it’s not transfiguration but— well, it’s fantastic, isn’t it?“

“You’ve been to the pictures?”

Lily had a hard time seeing a pure blood like James Potter in such a Muggle place.

“Well— no. But I would like to some day.”

It was almost endearing the way he spoke so passionately of something that Lily had known her whole life. She wondered if it explained her mother’s similar affection for the art form.

“My favourites are,” he opened the door to the kitchen for her, “Mädchen in Uniform” (Lily blinked) “and… The Sound of Music.”

“How are you watching these without going to the cinema?” she asked. British terrestrial television would take a few decades to get to that level just yet.

“Magic,” he winked, and she tried her hardest not to blush, turning instead to Nicolas who was still sitting in the centre of the kitchen.

“Finished?” he enquired, moving very slowly — and with an obvious amount of pain — to get to his feet. “Let’s start your work then, shall we young lady?”

[jesseevelann]

Sasuke often wondered what other kids his age did, what they did for hobbies, or what they did with their friends. He never got that luxury, whatever they did. He was stuck under his father's supervision 24/7. Couped up in his room, forced to read or study. His father had big plans for him, large expectations ever since he was a child, and his older brother got sick.

Sasuke never saw his brother anymore. The second he was diagnosed, their parents threw him out. Deeming him unworthy of their family name, and a disgrace to the clan. Sasuke hated not having his brother around, but he couldn't do anything until he graduated from highschool and could legally live on his own, under the guise of starting his own company out of state.

He resented his parents for the way they treated him, even more so for how they treated Itachi. Tonight in particular, they pushed way too far.

Sasuke stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him and running down the sidewalk in the dead of night, tears of frustration streaming down his face. His fathers shouting echoed in the street, but he couldn't care less.

His heart pounded in his chest, his feet carrying him anywhere they could, until he physically couldn't run anymore.

He found himself in front if Naruto's house when he stopped, by coincidence Naruto was on the front porch getting ready to go somewhere.

"Hey, Uchiha. What brings you here late at night?"

Sasuke wiped the tears off his face.

"... Had a fight with my parents..."

Naruto nodded, understanding completely.

It was one of the only things they could bond on, their relationship with their parents. Although their lifestyle was completely different.

They were both from wealthy families, Naruto's just slightly more so because of all of the inheritance from his passed relatives. They both attended the same tutoring, the same private physical education system, and at one point they were doing home-schooling together, until Naruto's parents took a turn for the worse and Fugaku forbade them from seeing each other. On Uchiha property at least.

They were raised like brothers, but Naruto knew it wasn't quite like that. Friends, certainly, but he could never compare to Itachi. He didn't want to, he always felt like an intruder when he had to take up the older brother role for Sasuke, but there were certain circumstances where he'd push it aside.

"I'm going to one of my friend's concerts. I have a plus one, if you'd like to come? Take your mind off it, yknow?"

Sasuke turned his nose up. Concerts were always loud, and typically not the cleanest of environments.

"The lead singer organised to have these earplugs given out to those sensitive to sound, and because I'm special, we get a reserved space. No touching, no fussing around, front row view. How about it?"

Naruto jumped up from the porch, dusting off his black, gothic jeans. Sasuke watched Naruto start to walk off, and slowly, he walked after him. It was his night of rebellion, and Naruto seemed to have high hopes. What could really go wrong?

Sasuke had known Naruto since they were born, they didn't always get along but Naruto never led him down the wrong path. Naruto preferred to do that stuff on his own, Sasuke worried about his friend for that ideology though.

Distance wise, the walk to the stadium the concert was being held at was quite long. But the back and forth chatter and banter made it come much quicker than either of them expected. Naruto was some of the best company you could have around, when he wasn't smoking cigarettes at least.

Naruto led them inside, passing the bouncer with ease because of his "BFF pass", as he called it. The hallway was fairly dim, leading down to a double door with a couple of stands with boxes. Some for tickets to be put in, some for freebie merch, and of course the earplugs Naruto mentioned. Naruto picked the merch out for Sasuke, refusing to show him until after the show.

Sasuke rolled his eyes at his friends behaviour, but accepted it. Taking a pair of the earplugs for safe meassures.

When they walked through the door, Sasuke's eyes widened the whole stadium was filled with waiting fans, almost unable to contain their excitement. Dull, neon coloured lights lit everything except the stage. Naruto ushered Sasuke down the stairs to get to their spot, wasting no time to get him there. A few moments after they stood in their spot, the lights shut off and the room was pitch black

Smoke filtered around the stage, and red spotlights revealed the band members. The two guitarists, the drummer, and finally the lead singer, who was none other than...

"S-Sakura?!"

Sasuke's exclaim was silenced by the cheers of the fans, Naruto had to hold back his laughter from Sasuke's reaction.

Sakura was a girl from one of the "less rich" schools, that often rivalled with Sasuke and Naruto's school in means of sports. Sakura participated in most of the sports events, like Naruto, so it was a common occurrence for her and Sasuke to see each other. They never spoke once, though. Sasuke only knew about her from stories Naruto told him.

This, however, never came up in conversation. Sasuke almost wanted to kill Naruto for keeping something like this, but his eyes were glued to the girl he fell head over heels for months ago.

Sakura paid no mind, preforming with her band, flowing with enthusiasm and energy. Sasuke was so overwhelmed with his feelings, he nearly fainted. Fortunately, he found his chair, allowing himself to calm down just a little.

The concert lasted about two hours, before the lights dimmed, only Sakura in the spotlight. Sakura pulled the mic from the stand and pushed it to the side, holding the mic with both hands before there was a moment of silence. Everyone's eyes were on her, and everyone was waiting with excitement flowing through their veins. She took a deep breath, and let out a loud-

"SHAAANNNNNNNAAAAARRROOOOOOOOO!!!!!!"

The stadium filled with cheers, whistles and screams of joy, Sasuke's heart fluttering at the smirk on Sakura's face.

"Goodnight Konoha!!"

She raised her fist in the air, and the fans followed in suit, before walking off the stage and into the dark.

// End //

For @juisthereforfanfics, hope you didn't mind me turning it into SakuSasu ♥︎♥︎♥︎ and the art for Sakura is here ♥︎

[lixiebokie]

through his lens

———————————————————————

idol: stray kids hyunjin x reader

photographer!hyunjin x artist!reader

———————————————————————

chapter 3: hyunjin has his eye on someone

📸🌼📸🌼📸🌼📸🌼📸🌼📸🌼📸🌼📸🌼

first classes rolled around quicker than expected. the group had took time apart to focus of studies for the first week, well expect hyunjin who found a way to sneak into the art studio to each lunch with y/n every day.

hyunjin was into art just as much as her. but didn’t see it as a career more as a hobby. which is a way he distinguished his love for photography being much heavier.

hyunjin picked up his first camera when he was 8. it was a disposable one his mother brought him while they were at jeju. he wanted to take pictures but wasn’t old enough to have a phone.

the sunset was the first thing that caught his eye. it was a orangey, red swirly pattern. the picture wasn’t the best quality considering he was a child using a shitty disposable camera but it didn’t stop him from hanging it from the bunting in his dorm room just above his bed. he used a small vloging type camera until he was 15, when he finally got a professional camera. he got it for christmas, it was big heavy and expensive. he was sure it costed like 1,000,000 won or something.

his father was against the idea of buying such an expensive camera for a teenager. ‘it would get broken in seconds’ but hyunjin proved him wrong as it is the same camera he used today.

y/n on the other hand had been exposed to art her whloe life. from crappy kids arts sets that would keep her away from her mothers expensive art studio, up to now we’re she wanted to persue it as a career. her mother owned a flower shop in town. it wasn’t the most popular so she spent most her time sketching the items in there. y/n spent her weekends there, if she wasn’t at hyunjins house. her mothers drawing started to get noticed and rather than coming for the flower people would visit the shop to buy portraits of them. her mother long sold the shop but now spends her time as an etsy artist as her job.

of course y/n didn’t want that job. she wanted to be some big artist, maybe like bob ross or something. or she could have her own art exhibition, now that was her dream. or maybe do a collab with a fashion brand, but she was thinking too far ahead.

unlike hyunjin, y/n can’t remember her first drawing probably some one in her family, maybe it was hyunjin. she doesn’t know but who would want to keep some kids shitty drawing anyway, it was probably stashed in her mothers room somewhere.

when the group finally decided to meet up again it was strange.

they met at the school canteen to discuss any plans they had on the weekend. seungmin had brought his roommate, and new friend, felix who fit in straight away. he was australian like chan, so it was nice to have something to remind them of him.

“told you they’d be together.” seungmin pointed to the two of sliding into their seats.

“how many days did you go without seeing each other?” neither of them answered instead taking the drinks, that seungmin had order for them, into their mouths.

“im guessing none then,” he rolled his eyes. “anyway we need to discuss what we’re doing this weekend. the first week of uni coming to an end deserves a treat so maybe we could go to the bar down the street or go out to the bowling alley in town?”

seungmin was the one to organise plans, it use to be chan but after finding out he wouldn’t be with them in uni, he decided to take over the role. and he fucking good at it, he always knew about the best places to eat or found the best hang out spots. they’d only been here less than a week and he already had the city mapped out.

“hm, maybe bar. i need a drink after the week i’ve had.” y/n sighed pushing her head off hyunjins shoulder and into her hands.

“the week you had? you paint all day it’s not stressful.” jiha scoffed placing down her phone. y/n looked up around the table swapping frowns with the others.

“that was so uncalled for.”

“im just saying how stressful could that be? take dress code for example, you get to wear whatever old scraps you have laying around, me on the other hand has to wear a blouse and skirt everyday. meaning i have to get home everyday wash this, dry it, iron it before i even get to relax.” she pointed down to the pink skirt and white blouse under her black blazer.

“jiha it’s not a competition.” hyunjin spoke from across the table.

“yeah you were the one who picked to study law. they aren’t going to force me to wear my best clothes just for them to get ruined.”

“im just saying you have no right to say you had stressful week painting, that doesn’t even make sense.”

seungmin rolled his eyes. “okay, bar it is i think jiha needs a drink down her.”

“hey you alright?” hyunjin asked swinging their hands back and fourth as the group walked back to the dorms.

hyunjin wanted to walk y/n alone so that he ask her what was up with jiha. but he could exactly tell his friends to leave without sounding like a bitch himself.

“yeah, you?” hyunjin hummed.

“yeah! by the way, i don’t think your clothes look like scraps.” y/n smiled. hyunjin always knew what was wrong, and after jihas comment she felt like she looked disgusting.

“thanks jinnie.”

“are they together?” felix whispered to seungmin even though they were further behind the two.

“no!” seungmin made a cross with his arms. “they hate when people say that. i’m warning you never say that infront of them y/n will have a fit.”

“when doesn’t she?” jiha commented.

—

the bar was full but it was a friday night so who would have guessed. they had found their way into getting a booth for felix knowing someone who worked there. and soon as they sat down all were drinking and trying to forget the past week they had.

jiha was trying to find someone to talk to for the night which y/n thought was abit strange. her and jisung had broken up less than a month ago and she was already moved on. but she wasn’t jiha so she had no right to but into her choices.

“seungmo take a picture of me and y/n for insta please.” jiha passed him her phone pulling the other girl in a close but loose hug and posing.

it felt like jiha had gone back to her old self. the happy self she was when she was with jisung, not the sarcastic, rude jiha that had been there all week.

maybe she was just stressed.

“isn’t he cute, maybe you should go talk to him?” jiha suggested to a blonde boy in the corner.

he was cute, but she wasn’t attracted to him.

“looks like hyunjins eyeing someone.” felix snickered pointing to the boy who had his attention taken by some girl in the crowd.

he turned looking back at the others.

“you like blue dress? go talk to her!” y/n shoved her trying to get him to stand and leave the table.

“blue? that’s nessa she’s in class. she’s so sweet and definitely your type!” jiha shouted over to him.

hyunjin stood looking at the others and saluting. “i’ll see you later.” he walked off with a powerful stride to go see her.

hyunjin always had been confident talking to girls because he’d always been noticed by girls. since he hit puberty, he’d never been rejected and constantly asked out. his last girlfriend was a year and a half ago when he was 17. sadly not many of his relationships worked out because they didn’t like how close he was with y/n.

but he wasn’t going to ditch his best friend of 19 years for someone he’s knew for a couple of months.

y/n was the opposite, she wasn’t ever asked out or anything. maybe it was because she was so shy or the fact she was a nerdy looking person until she was 16, when she finally started caring about her appearance. she got rejected by her first crush when she was 14 and who was there to comfort her? hyunjin.

“hey i’m gonna go talk to the blondie i’ll text you what happens.” jiha winked to y/n before walking over to the one who she’d tried to set her up with 5 minutes prior.

somehow throughout the night seungmin had wandered his way into another friend group. he knew some of them from his classes. y/n only knew one of them from her art class, his name jungkook or something.

it was only her and felix left.

felix was really nice, he wasn’t awkward and asked questions that were genuinely interesting.

“so how long have you known hyunjin?”

“my whole life basically, we grew up together.”

felix nodded. “i wish i grew up with someone i was really close to.”

“it’s great, but i guess im lucky he’s stuck with me.” y/n turned looking at hyunjin who was with girl from earlier trying to eat her.

“you’re really nice you know y/n no wonder hyunjin stayed with you. you’re really close.” felix chuckled awkwardly.

“thanks, we get that.. a lot.”

felix grew up in australia so when he moved he left all his friends and had to go out and make more friends in college. but he wasn’t really close to them. he was really glad he met seungmin on the first day. he finally had friends again.

y/n felt like she was talking to chans little brother.

not because they were both australian and definitely not physically as chan was a muscly teddy bear unlike felix but because they both had that comfort in the way they talk. neither of them were loud, would rather sit in slience. they were both the type of people you would go to if you needed advice. y/n hadn’t asked felix for any yet but she knew the day shed needed to he would be there for her.

y/n found out felix was studying IT. he wants to be a game designer, he spent his childhood playing games and would love a job designing them.

felix reminded her so much a chan she couldn’t get his face out of her head while talking to him.

“you’re really pretty you know.” felix played with her hair. she giggled smiling at him, she wasn’t use to getting compliments especially from attractive people so she couldn’t help but blush.

felix leaned in slightly, she could feel his breath on her face. it was happening so fast he was so close to her, and she was panicking. why was she panicking? she found felix attractive and no doubt had been flirting with him for the past hour so why was she so against this?

his lips barley touched hers, it was light she barley felt before she pulled away.

“um sorry.. it’s late, i should.” she moved away making felix scoot back.

“im so sorry.. i didn’t mean.”

“no it’s fine i’m just gonna go find seungmin, i’ll see you around lix.” she smiled rushing off.

she went home that night, throwing off her shoes and climbing into bed. she tried to reach chan over facetime but he must have been busy, chan wasn’t one to sleep and they were still basically in the same time zones.

she cried when chan didn’t pick up, she missed him.

she wanted to see him but lucky she got a text saying he’d call her in the morning.

hyunjin had went home with felix. felix didn’t bring up what happened. he was convinced she’d ran off because she liked hyunjin. he knew seungmin told him not to think they were cute together and how she pushed him to go talk to that girl but something in his mind was telling him different.

hyunjin ended up splitting from that girl, one of her friends had slipped up how she already had a boyfriend and hyunjin would like to keep his beautiful face in one piece.

he didn’t know were y/n ran off to with seungmin but when he asked felix, he said she must of had too much to drink. he wondered if he was being too obvious. should he speak to hyunjin? they were best friends.. but apart of felix told him to stay quiet about what has happened that night.

📸🌼📸🌼📸🌼📸🌼📸🌼📸🌼📸🌼📸🌼

[cosmicanger]

❍

❍ It’s still white supremacy if the c*ps were Black

❍ “Black people: don’t kill us

America: but the snuff film ratings are incredible”

❍ “The fact that the officers in Memphis were Black is further evidence of systemic racism not counter evidence to it. If you don't understand this statement please take a sociology class.”

❍ “Why do we have to keep fucking dying for people to listen , if only temporarily”

❍ “I don't understand how you can, almost 11 years after Trayvon Martin, still be the sort of person calling for more p*lice-reform efforts like body-cameras. These guys did this to Tyre Nichols with all the cameras rolling.”

❍ “Why are people even watching the the video... it's literally snuff”

❍ “If you think the Memphis p*lice officers had to be white in order to exhibit anti-Blackness, you need to take that AP African American Studies course Ron DeSantis just banned.”

❍ “Seems like the real solution to all this is: more training for p*lice; more body cameras; more community policing programs; more black officers who are blacker than the black officers who preceded them; more thoughts and prayers; more "peaceful" protest; and more consent decrees.” We should also consider: More black p*lice chiefs; more black prosecutors; more black city council members; more black mayors; more white allies; more op-ed pieces about "The Talk"; ... and a few more black people dying on camera for people to really get the scale of the problem”

❍ “I can’t believe folks are still talking about modifying p*lice weaponry as a solution when cops murdered George Floyd & Tyre Nichols with their bare hands.”

❍ “In an interview, I was asked about the #TyreNichols situation. I said it was a result of white supremacy. The host's response was "But the c*ps are Black". I replied, "guardians of the white power structure come in all shades". No complexion is required for oppression.”

❍ “Any Black person who has ever encountered Black c*ps could have told you that the representation angle was nonsense to begin with”

❍ “Can irl otg organisers just get off Twitter then like why are you here if you’re so busy off doing the important things than us chronically online people, does punching down just give you stress relief from working with those poor people all day or”

❍ “You don’t have to be white to uphold systems of white supremacism. You don’t have to be white to be be anti-Black. You don’t have to be a white male to practice p*lice terrorism in the United States.”

❍ “not watching no more black death rolled out like a new album drop. not watching 1619 project. not watching no more black panther films. all serve the same function. there is no wakanda, there’s only africa. it’s hostage state is why we keep getting casted in this same role”

❍ “N*gga could work at the post office, sanitation department, water department, desk job downtown, etc. But choose to be c*ps.”

❍ In response to this (“I remember the Rodney King assault. I remember how many of us thought the footage would change everything, Finally there was “proof”. Now there’s footage everyday of p*lice brutalizing us. This footage is in HD & often comes from the p*lice. Nothing changes.“) — “Things change. They’ve changed for the worse. We watched that grainy footage of Rodney King being beaten. We’re watching c*ps beat, taser, choke, shoot, and take a knee on folks throats until they are DEAD. We are seeing police with bigger budgets, and bigger military grade guns.”

❍ “I don’t have to see “it” to feel it. That’s one of the results of being terrorized by the p*lice. The reins of terror are tattooed into our memories. We can simply say names and rewind time and re-live lynchings at the hands, feet, knees, fist, guns, and tasers of the p*lic*.”

❍ “"The city of Birmingham has been under siege from OUTSIDE AGITATORS led by Martin Luther King.”–Bull Connor (1963)

“We have never had a problem in the South except in a few very isolated instances and these have been the result of OUTSIDE AGITATORS.”–George Wallace (1964)

2023: “@NYCMayor warns against "outside agitators" coming into the city to disrupt protests, citing intel from across the country and sensitive "classified" information he declined to go into further detail on.”

❍ “all of the reforms failed at the same damn time - black c*ps, body cameras, multiple c*ps on the scene, tasers instead of guns- so how is more reform the answer? #Blacker c*ps? Even non-deadlier non deadly weapons? ten c*ps instead of five? HD body cameras? harder convictions?”

❍ “P*lic* will really brutalize and kill people. Then get mad when others are upset at what they did. So they attack the people who are upset and then politicians give them even more money and weaponry to keep doing it. What a world.”

❍ “body cameras might be the biggest scam c*ps ever pulled off”

❍ “i don't know who needs to hear this but c*ps were brutalizing and killing black people before they had qualified immunity. why do you think King said, ""We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality" in 1963?”

[clodpid]

Love Thy Neighbour Chapter 5

Coming away from her interview, Ruth was feeling quietly confident. The three-person panel had grilled her for over thirty minutes on key nursing competencies and had raked over her qualifications with a fine-tooth comb. Ruth knew the drill from her previous interviews with American hospitals. With nearly fifteen years nursing experience in both Ireland and the US, Ruth knew that she was a highly skilled nurse, with the right skillset for this role. Now, having given the best interview that she could, it was out of her hands.

Back in the lobby, Ruth paused to slip out of her jacket and roll up her sleeves. Feeling more comfortable, she wandered through the foyer, hoping to spot a coffee shop or vending machine. Amid the many people, she thought she saw a familiar face, so Ruth walked a little closer. Trying not to be too obvious, she focused on the person. Just as she realised that she did indeed know the person, they looked up and recognised her too. They stood to greet their friend with a warm embrace.

“Ruth O’Neill! As I live and breathe! How are you?”

“Hey Laura. I am good. Looking for a job here. I just had an interview. All going well, we might be working together again soon.”

“Was that for the charge nurse position in neuro? You’d be a good fit for that position and God knows that we could be doing with a good manager up there. At the moment, it’s bedlam. Our manager retired last month and we’ve been rotating the job. But really, there’s no-one who has good enough organisational or leadership skills.”

“Oh really?”, Ruth asked, bouncing her eyebrows playfully. “What about you? You’ve got plenty organisational and leadership skills. Plus, it’s a role you’ve been in before.”

“Well, I did consider it but with Mike being overseas again, the kids need me at home. I just couldn’t take on the extra responsibility right now. Speaking of kids, how’s Lily?”

“Growing like a weed. It’s hard to believe that she’ll be six in a few months. I don’t where that time has gone. How are your boys doing. Chris must be heading off to college soon?”

“Chris is going to be starting at Washington State next fall. He’s going to take sports psychology. Josh and Justin are in their sophomore year. Still scraping through and breaking their teachers’ hearts with the lack of effort and enthusiasm. And Gordie is finishing elementary.”

“They are getting so grown up too. Don’t you ever wish that you could keep them small and sweet forever? Where is Mike deployed to this time?”

“He’s in Syria. He says its his last tour, but he said that last time and the time before that too. So, I’m not holding my breath.” Laura rolled her eyes to show her lack of belief in her husbands pronouncements.

“Hey, do you know where I can get a cup of coffee around her. As Mammy would say, I’m gasping for one.”

“There’s a coffee vendor outside. Go right at the door, towards the ambulance bay.”

“Thanks. Care to join me?”

Laura checked her watch and shook her head. “My breaks just about done but when you start work here, the coffee’s going to be on you! Look over there. See that brunette doctor. That’s the head of neuro, Ame…”.

“Amelia Shepherd. I’ve already met her. She’s my next-door neighbour. Seems nice.”

“She’s a tough cookie but we all love her. She’s a super surgeon and made name for herself on a big deal project to cure Parkinson’s.”

The two watched as Amelia strode confidently and, in Ruth’s opinion, rather sexily, through the lobby and out of the building.

“What’s the deal with her? She married or attached?” Ruth hoped that she wasn’t being too obvious for the second time that day.

Laura smirked knowingly but answered. “She’s single as far as I know. Has been for ages now. She had a thing with a non-binary scientist, but they didn’t work out. Her son’s dad was an orthopaedic surgeon here. He was killed in a terrible accident some years back. I remember her being pretty broken up about it at the time.”

Another check of her watch said Laura had to go so they embraced each other heartily and went their separate ways. Ruth found the coffee cart and was standing at the back of the queue when she felt a light tap on her shoulder. She turned to find Amelia smiling at her.

“Hello again. We have gotta stop meeting like this. People will start talking.”

“For sure. This place is like gossip central. Rumours can go all the way around the hospital like greased lightening. How did your interview go?”

“Pretty good. I’m confident. The head interviewer said that I would know one way or the other in a few days.”

They’d now reached the head of the line. “One iced vanilla latte and what are you having, Amelia?” Her name felt good in her mouth, Ruth thought.

“Oh no! You don’t have to do that Ruth. I can get my own or I can get yours?”

“Not at all, Amelia. This time, it’s on me.”

“Well, thank you. I will also have an iced vanilla latte.” She smiled in gratitude at Ruth. It was a smile that made Ruth’s heart flutter just that little bit faster. She hoped that she wasn’t blushing, at least not too furiously.

With their drinks in hand, the two strolled over to a bench shaded a little by the building itself. They sat down and Amelia sighed contentedly as she draw a cool sip from her cup.

“So, what area do you nurse in, Ruth?”

“Yours as it happens. I bumped into an old nursing buddy who works here. She mentioned that you were the head of neuro. The job I was interviewing for today was for the charge nurse position on the post-surgery neuro ward.”

“What are the odds? It’s crazy! This morning we didn’t know each other and now we are almost a double act.”

Ruth chuckled and Amelia joined her.

“Where are you from? Your accent? Is it Irish?”

“Yes ma-am. Well detected. I am a farmer’s daughter from the Irish midlands. Population of six, maybe seven hundred people and four times as many sheep.”

“What brought you to America?”

“Family drama, I suppose.” Seeing that Amelia was confused, Ruth went on.

“Being gay in a small, rural Irish village wasn’t easy. Everyone knew my business. It was like living in a goldfish bowl. One where not everyone was able to keep their disapproval to themselves. There were comments often passed at me and it got under my skin enough to drive me out of it and into college in Dublin.”

“I never really intended to go to college. It was my idea to stay home and work with Daddy on the farm. Don’t get me wrong, I like my job. Nursing has been an education and it has thought me all I know about people and the way that the world works. Plus, it has been my passport to the world. It’s been good to me and for me.”

“After I graduated, I got a job in Beaumont Hospital. That would be Ireland’s primary neurological centre of excellence. I found my stride there and I enjoyed life in the capital. I was free to be gay and there was no judgement. It was freeing.”

“So, Lily? How did she come to be?”

“In the usual way!”

Amelia gave Ruth a withering look and continued. “You mentioned that you were gay? Are you bisexual?”

“Oh, right yeah. No, I am gay. Lily is not my biological daughter, although I love her like she was. She is my niece. My sister Jenny got herself in trouble when she was barely eighteen. She wasn’t ready to be a mother and Mammy was adamant that she wouldn’t have a termination. So, it was decided that she’d have the baby and put it up for adoption.”

“I shouldn’t have asked. That’s not something that you want to be telling a relative stranger.”

Amelia made to stand but Ruth caught her hand and gently guided her back down.

“I wouldn’t be telling you this stuff if I didn’t want to. Believe me, I am fussy about who I share my secrets with. I think I can trust you with this.”

Amelia looked her in the eye and smiled. “I swear. It’s safe with me.”

“When Lily was born, that plan went out the window. I held her and instantly fell in love with her. I just couldn’t give her away. So, I adopted her as my own and we came to America to make a life of our own.”

“That’s a remarkable thing to do. I don’t think I could do it. Weren’t you afraid?”

“I was terrified. I mean, weren’t you when Scout was born? No-one prepares you for the all nighters, the crying, the endless dirty nappies, and the effective end of your love life. Still, I have no regrets. She’s the best thing that has ever happened to me. I couldn’t imagine my life without the little madam now.”

“The love consumes you, doesn’t it? Being a mom is the best feeling in the world. There’s just nothing that comes close.”

“That’s right.”

Amelia’s beeper sounded just then. “I need to check this. Sorry to do this to you again.”

Ruth shook her head dismissively. “It’s your job. Go ahead.”

Amelia turned a took a step before turning back. She wore her trademark smirk and Ruth was glad she was sitting as she was certain that it would have made her weak at the knees had she been standing. “So, you said the coffee was on you this time earlier. Do you want to do this again sometime?”

“Oh, yeah. I mean, yes. Yes I want to have coffee with you again. If you want too?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to, Ruth.”

“Good. Well, it’s a date. No, not a date. It’s a plan. I meant to say it’s a plan.” There was no escaping the blushing now. Ruth felt her cheeks burning.

“It’s a date.” Amelia turned and headed away leaving a stunned Ruth behind.

[kierianpattonphoto]

Moving Image Research

I have always been fascinated with moving image and our roles as photographers within this. Ever since now that going forward photographers are expected to know how to shoot, edit and deliver videos. For example, i did a corporate job recently where i was doing headshots and then i was expected to create a short 1 minute long clip that summed up this large business meeting that was getting held in the office. It was to be posted on linkedin to bolster the company’s overall image and make them appear very professional and organised. 

Saying that my only real experience with moving image is corporate video! i have always fantasised about creating something, more, something personal in a sense. One of my ideas was to create a portait of someone who has recently moved here from a different country and it would include them doing a voiceover of their experiences of lonliness when they first moved. It would include asking them questions such as “do you ever regret moving over?” or “is there anything you long for here that you could get back home?”.

The plan is to evoke an emotional response from the sitter and maybe even the viewer. But, not only do i plan on having just a voiceover, i also plan on having mark mann style scenes where the sitter is speaking into the camera showing emotion when talking about his personal struggles with moving here. I also plan on showing static scenes, such as a scene of clouds rolling overhead or trees swaying in the wind. Tying the voiceover into a physical representation in a scene is key. An example of this would be if someone was speaking about travelling i would show a clip of the road rolling by while looking out of a car.

Inspiration 

Having the scene match the voiceover is key for this moving image project and i believe it will further evoke the emotional response i am after. I would also like to incorporate a musical score over the video. I have a few ideas of where i would search for this, i could even use the musical scores from some of my favorite films such as ‘bladerunner 2049′ or ‘the place beyond the pines.’

Both films feature very unique music styles and create a deep emotional story line that has the main protagonist long for a sense of belonging.

All of these examples above convey all the same sense of loneliness and separation. This is through the use of including negative space in the composition around the subject. I would aim to use similar techniques when shooting my moving image to help tie everything in visually with the soundtrack and voiceover. 

I have also been looking at a filmmaker / youtuber Will Derbyshire. His work is beautiful to say the least. His work is often based around travel, people he has met or what is going on in his life at that moment. The films have an amateur feel to them which remind me of the videos your parents would take on holiday or little snap shots on the family camera. Often when i watch his videos i’m hit with a wave of nostalgia or a sense of longing to be transported back to holidays when i was young. 

I aim to take inspiration from parts of his videos such as composition and colour grading. Ive noticed that in his videos they all share a similar soundtrack which is usually an off beat piano playing over usually ambient sounds from the location such as wind, footsteps or police sirens. Having these ambient sounds i believe can add more depth to my moving image, by having just the soundtrack and a voiceover it feels a little 2D and flat. For a moving image piece that i’m creating for the sole purpose of provoking emotion having that extra layer of audio to my work can aid massively.

https://youtu.be/u0SFECKSonU https://youtu.be/ERNcJlU6Dsw

Soundtrack 

Picking a soundtrack for this project is also very important, by choosing the wrong one it can distract the viewer and take away from the story. A soundtrack is merely there to aid in telling the story and to convey the intended feelings. I already have a solid idea as to what genre the score will be. I have been fascinated with ambient music and some light piano pieces. There is one album i keep going back to and thats burial’s Untrue album, it captures ghosts, lost features and life’s liminal spaces. I often refer to the album as feeling like you’re standing waiting for a bus on a rainy December night in the city. The album feels like it romanticises being alone and wandering the city late night in the rain. 

I think certain tracks from this album could work well with my moving image as the film is about moving from your comfort zone and trying to find yourself in this new place you’re in. Tracks such as this one below i have linked are melancholic and almost a eulogy to the feeling you get when you’re walking home from a night-out or from work in those dark wet winter nights. 

I would love to put this track over the finishing sequences of shots. 

https://youtu.be/GbfrgJls7n4

Storyboard & Voiceover 

First rough copy i am happy with.

There are a few things i could change towards making a final rough cut, i’d like to get a bit more variance in terms of city scapes to add into the visual side of things, i think the key is to find things that are seemingly normal but quite beautiful. Things such as golden leaves on a wet pavement or a quiet park with leaves falling. Having these simple yet stunning visuals play into the idea that all these places are the same as back home but they have little differences that can make a big impact. 

I would also like to film Logan and include some sort of close up of his face towards the end of the video just sp it puts a voice to a face, i think doing this will make it a bit more relatable and will contain more of a human element. I may also look into adding a few sound effects such as a film spool and the beep countdown as my film is 16mm film inspired, so i believe it would add a but more depth to the film. 

I thankfully managed to get a hold of logan and shoot some close ups, medium shots and long shots of him stood in my back garden. I shot a fair good amount of clips so i could have a bit variance in post and then deice what ones i prefer. Below are stills pulled from each clip i could of used. 

clip 1

Clip 2 

Clip 3

Clip 4

Clip 5 ( a touch out of focus sadly )

So i think out of all of these clip 3 holds the most emotion in it, in the other 4 clips logan is either looking away or has too much negative space around him which takes away some emotion. When logan is square onto the camera with an extreme close up it holds some value and emotion which can bring alot into my film, like i said earlier it brings in a human value to it which can aid a lot in trying to convey emotion.

The next step was to bring the clip into premiere pro and overlay the 16mm film effect over the clip. With and Without 

AS you can see the effect does brighten up the overall image so i would compensate this by dragging and dropping a lumetri colour effect onto the clip, this then allows me to do basic exposure correction and colour correction. 

Of course when in import the clip it wont be cropped either, so for the film effect overlay to line up i would need to crop the video. I do this buy going to video effects > transform > crop and then i would drag and drop it onto the clip i would like cropped. 

Different streetscapes 

I ended up going for a fairly long walk around the streets near my flat just after it rained in the hunt for anything visually interesting in the usual “mundane”. I already had a decent idea of what i needed, one of which was to shoot in the park at the end of my street, it was small shared park which usually featured small families or people playing with their dog, to capture the simplicity of this was key.

Almost final 

As you can see i have added a few more street scenes to the video which has made it a bit more visually appealing, i also adjusted the timing on some of the clips as they were a second or two too long. I think from here i have my core film its just a case of adding the clips of Logan and adding small sound effects and adjusting timing

Sound effects 

I thought that just having the film open up with the soundtrack was a little too simple and boring. Plus when you see films that have used a similar visual style to me by using a film effect they will always include a sound effect of a film reel starting up. 

Final Version & Evaluation

https://youtu.be/Rf4M5BZ__Oo

Moving image Evaluation - Kierian Patton BA3

Evaluation

Overall I would deem this a successful project from start to finish. I would say I had done sufficient research into the type of moving image I wanted to create and then I experimented with sound effects and visual effects to create my moving image. When looking into pieces of media of which I could draw inspiration from I found myself dis- covering a visual style and story telling from a select few creators on YouTube. By dis- covering the exact visual style I was after so early on was crucial to the development of my moving image. It allowed me to have a streamlined process of firstly writing up a short script and general idea and then expanding it into a comprehensive story board. From there I was able to convey exactly what I required off my actor Logan at the time, and when it came to editing I had already pre-visualised the pacing and timing of the moving image.

Researching the soundtrack that would go into my moving image was tricky as I wished to find something melancholic yet hopeful. As you may be able to guess that was rather difficult, I found that almost placing myself in the actors shoes in terms of what he may be feeling when speaking about his time moving countries was extremely beneficial in grasping an idea of what musical genre or sub genre I would need to explore. I ended up setting my sights on Burial, his music emulated the trend of “hauntology” in the early 2000’s and pushing the boundaries of breakbeats, dubstep and jungle at that time. I used the first 30 seconds of the track “Etched Headplate” from his critically acclaimed 2007 album “Untrue” as I liked the vocals at the start and then from the same album I used the song “In McDonald’s” for the rest of the moving image to create a feeling of nostalgia and melancholy. If I was to shoot this project again I would use another actor as I found myself struggling to secure Logan to shoot for a day or two as he was very busy and sometimes he wouldn’t show up to the shoot, I later found he had a few personal issues going on which I understood. I was not the biggest fan of the voiceover for my moving image as I felt as though it sounded very scripted and slow, if I was to redo it I would sit Logan down in an interview type of scenario and fire off questions and then get a more genuine response and allow him to speak as if it was a normal conversation and not filmed. Overall, I am happy with how my moving image turned out. From looking at visual references on YouTube to researching the music and sounds and to finally piecing it all together in post production. There are a few things like I reiterated previously is that I would use a different actor or actress who had a more flexible schedule and I would also change the pacing of the voice-over as I felt as though it was too regimented sounding.

[msbigredmachine]

TARGETS - 21 - The Decoy

Roman Reigns is an agent in the secret organisation The Authority and one of the world’s deadliest assassins. When he crosses paths with a mysterious woman during an assignment, he makes a life-changing decision that switches his role from the hunter to the hunted.  (AU Espionage Story)

TARGETS MASTERLIST

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Seventy-two hours later

0047 hrs

Providence, Rhode Island

Xavier Woods rolled his eyes for the hundredth time, wondering when the hell he was going to get out of this shithole. Ever since the attempt on his life a couple of months ago in Las Vegas, he'd been hidden away in a bunker in an elusive Courthouse in Rhode Island, where he would remain in custody until the process for his entry into the Witness Protection Program was concluded. Unlike the lavish comfort of the hotel suite at the MGM Arena, this place felt like a fucking prison. Being miles away from civilization, there were no distractions for Xavier to indulge in. No cable, no PS5, no Wi-Fi, and shitty cell phone reception. He was under watch twenty-four hours a day and he felt like he was about to go apeshit. Why the fuck was it taking weeks to move him into the Program anyway? Especially if they knew his life was in grave danger?

Outside, his door was manned by four FBI Agents, all of whom were lounging and reading day-old newspapers. A fifth agent rounded the corner with two boxes of pepperoni pizza in his arms. "About fucking time, I'm starving," one of the agents said, throwing aside his newspaper and opening one of the boxes his colleague set down on the table.

The sound of an alarm suddenly rang all around the Courthouse, interrupting their meal. The Agents instantly dropped their pizza and jumped to their feet, hands reaching for the guns in their holsters. Suddenly, one dropped to the ground, unconscious, a tranquilizer dart sticking out of his neck. The other Agents raised their weapons to attack, but how did one aim at an unseen target? Left with this disadvantage, another fell. And another. And another. Within seconds all five men were down, out cold.

Xavier shot to his feet as he heard sounds of a scuffle outside his door. Suddenly it burst open and a Courthouse guard ran up to him, looking harassed. "Follow me sir," the big, burly looking man said with a heavy Southern accent. "I've got orders to get you outta here."

Xavier's eyes widened, fear coursing through his veins as he recognized the huge man immediately. This was the absolute last person he expected to see here. And this was the absolute last person he wanted to take him. "You gotta be fucking kidding me." Backing away, he whirled around and sprinted away, searching frantically for the imaginary way out.

The guard rolled his brown eyes, his accent transforming instantly. "Why do they always want to do it the hard way?"

As he spoke, Roman whipped out his gun, the butt of the weapon cracking over Xavier's head and knocking him out where he stood. Roman caught him before he hit the ground. "Fucking arrogant, slimy piece of shit," the guard murmured, dragging the prone body of Woods to the vent grill in the corner of the room. He used a screwdriver to unscrew the corners and stuffed Woods through the small space. As he followed behind, Roman pitched a timed grenade back into the room. A gift for the Feds, if you will.

Several FBI Agents had arrived at the scene as backup, and they took their command positions outside Xavier Woods's bedroom. The leader raised his hand in a signal to lead the charge into the room. They threw open the door, rushing in when they saw a small object roll towards them. They felt the impact of the explosion before they could decipher what it was. All of them fell to the floor, stunned and temporarily blinded by the percussive grenade, but alive. Barely.

Worried, Jasmine spoke into her earpiece. "Spice to Aquaman, I heard an explosion. Are you okay?"

"Why are you Spice and I have to be called Aquaman?"

"Because, doofus, my name is an actual spice and you look like Jason Momoa. Where are you? Did you get the cargo out?"

A heavy sigh followed. "Fine. Aquaman to Spice. Affirmative. The cargo is in my possession," was Roman's reply, "We move now. Watch my six in case anyone's trailing me."

Jasmine quickly shut the titanium suitcase containing the laptop and communications kit and moved over to the driver's seat, gun cocked and ready for any hostiles. Roman emerged through the rolling smoke, Woods slumped and unconscious over his shoulder. "Well, that was a mess," Jasmine smirked, putting her gun away.

Roman rolled his eyes. "It worked, didn't it?" He dumped Woods in the back seat, sitting him upright so he would look like he was asleep. Roman jumped into the passenger seat. "Let’s get the fuck outta here."

Jasmine revved the engine and they drove off.

—---------

Xavier slowly opened his eyes and was met with yet another fist in his face. Roman and Jasmine had taken him to an abandoned duplex in the outskirts of Providence to interrogate him. They had been in there for a while and so far, he wasn't saying a word, and it was pissing Roman off.

Jasmine watched as he laid into Xavier again, the man's dreadlocks flying as his head snapped backwards in a painful-looking angle. "Roman, what are you doing?" 

"I'm working." Another punch.

"You're going to kill him," she pointed out.  

"That was my left hand, sweetheart. Take a seat. We'll be done in a minute."

Jasmine sighed out loud. She knew she was bearing witness to another episode of the Samoan at his most blood-thirsty, but now was not the time to be reckless. "Roman, stop."

He ignored her. He squatted in front of Xavier and roughly patted his cheek. "Hey! Woods, wake the fuck up and look at me."

Xavier didn't seem to have heard him. Instead he was staring at Jasmine, his battered gaze traveling up and down the length of her delectable body. Roman raised his eyebrow, incredulous. “Is this piece of shit eyeballing my girl? Woods! I said look at me! Are you going to tell us why both our bosses want you dead or not?"

Xavier finally turned his attention to Roman. His hands were tied tightly behind his back, as were his legs, and was at the mercy of two deadly assassins. But he remained as defiant as ever, almost as if despite the precarious position he was in, he still had the upper hand. Spitting out the blood from his mouth to the side, he glared at Roman. "If you kill me, you got nothin’," he taunted.

"Oh, nothing would give me more pleasure than blowing your fuckin’ brains out." Roman stood back up and shook his head, losing patience. Jasmine checked her nails lazily as she spoke. "He does have a point, Roman."

Roman leveled his girlfriend with a glare. "You think you can do better?" he challenged, thrusting his gun at her and making an exaggerated sweeping gesture with his free arm. "Go ahead. Let’s see how much information you can get out of him."

Jasmine uncrossed her ankles and pushed off the wall with a smile. Both men's eyes were on her. "I'm not going to need that," she waved Roman's gun away, and looked over at Xavier with slanted, seductive eyes and an even more seductive smile. Roman's dark eyes narrowed as he realized her little plan, and he felt his blood boil and his fingers itch.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" Without waiting for her to respond, he grabbed her arm and dragged her away from Xavier and led her to a corner. Roman rounded on her, his face like thunder. "Are you fucking kidding me?" he hissed loudly. "You're going to seduce him? In front of me?"

Unbelievable! "Are you fucking kidding me? Now is not the time to be jealous!"

"What? I should just stand there and watch while you shove your tits in his face? Did you fuck him while you were with him? Is that what happens every time you've got to take out a motherfucker? Fuck him before you take him out?" Roman was livid. How many other men had put their hands on her, before and while they were together? How many had she allowed?

"This is literally not the time for this. Can you let me do my job? Huh?" she asked, rubbing her temple impatiently.

"I am only showing concern! You were his date that night. He put his hands on you then, and I am not cool with that."

“Seriously? Are you gonna stand there and tell me that in all the years you’ve been doing this, you’ve never fucked a couple of women to get the job done?” Jasmine challenged, “Look me in the eye and tell me that.”

Roman chewed on the inside of his cheek. “I was single then,” he defended lamely.

"That’s highkey the most asinine thing I’ve ever heard!" Jasmine snapped through gritted teeth. He was being exasperating. "I know you're tense right now and want answers, but do not take it out on me. Now take a break and let me handle this. As you know by now, I’m very good at what I do, and I know exactly what I'm doing."

"Do you?" he muttered under his breath, and he regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. 

Jasmine glared at her boyfriend, unable to mask her hurt. She shut her eyes, calming, centering herself, and when she opened them again, she was cool, professional again, but there was an edge to her tone as she replied.

"I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that to me," she told him curtly. They stood close, the air between them heated, tense. "I'm going back to talk to the hostage. When you're certain you're not going to make a fool of yourself, come back in. And you better not get in my way with your bullshit." She turned her back on him before she knocked his fucking lights out for disrespecting her like that. He wasn't the biggest person she had encountered before, not by a mile.

Roman watched her stomp away, his shoulders sagging with resignation. Yes, it was silly and immature of him, and it seemed like they were wasting time. But he just couldn't shake off the inkling in the pit of his gut that there was more to this situation they were facing. Woods was being too calm, too confident for his liking, and it felt like he and Jasmine were playing right into his hands.

Xavier smirked when Jasmine came back into his view. "Trouble in paradise?"

Her smile was gorgeous. "Forgive my partner over there. He's a bit...assertive." She reached up and pulled out the band holding her hair, letting the fair tresses fall around her shoulders. Xavier's eyes widened, and for the first time since his abduction, he looked a little nervous. She slowly approached him, her hair down, her slender body swaying, beautiful fingers on the buttons of her blouse. She looked absolutely ravishing.

"Xavier..." she uttered his name softly, "Xavier, we don't want to hurt you."

"We don't?" grumbled Roman.

"Roman, behave. We just want to ask a few questions, Xavier."

She moved behind him, her hand lazily trailing the chair, fingertips brushing his shoulder. She heard his breath catch as her fingers traced his chin, then his cheek. "We are aware of just how…controversial…you are. You've stepped on a few toes...pissed off some people. We understand that. All we want to know is why our bosses want to kill you, at such a high price for that matter."

She was close. She knew by the way Xavier's jaw clenched. He was struggling to hold tight, to remain stubborn. Roman was struggling as well. He gripped his gun tighter, his finger on the trigger, ready for anything.

Jasmine leaned down behind Xavier and let her slender hands slide down his chest, her face close to his ear, "That's all we want to know, Xavier. If you cooperate, all of this will be over. You have my word."

She waited for a response, then her eyes narrowed when she heard a chuckling sound, which she realized was coming from Woods. Standing upright, she looked at him in confusion and saw his head thrown back, laughing his head off. Jasmine and Roman glanced at each other. Something was wrong.

"Do you really think I'm going to fall for the tacky burlesque moves, sweetheart?" Xavier said, still laughing, but his eyes held a knowing, dangerous glint. "You're hot as hell, but not that hot, Jasmine...or is it Tatiana?"

Jasmine froze, staring at him.

"You tell me, Jasmine," Xavier went on. "Why would The Authority and F.L.O.R.A. come after little old me?" His grin spread at their widened eyes. "Yeah, I know exactly who both of y’all are. Of course you wouldn't know what’s really going on. Let me ask you another question; did you think your companies didn't know who each of you were? Did you think they appreciate this little romance y’all got going on, hmm? Did you really, Jasmine? Roman Reigns?"

Roman crossed his arms and glared at Xavier. Alarm bells were ringing in his head. But he couldn't quite point out why, and it unnerved him. "I knew you recognized me at the Courthouse," he said quietly. His hands were burning now. Aching for a kill.

"But how?" asked Jasmine, completely puzzled, "He's never seen you before!"

"Oh, but I have. They showed me your photos when they brought me in for this job." Xavier continued talking, sounding braver by the second. "You two are worrying about the wrong person. I'm not the one your companies are collaborating to take out."

Jasmine went pale. "Collaborating?"

Roman felt a chill course through his spine. The pieces were slowly coming together. "The hit in Las Vegas was a set-up," he said, turning to a stunned Jasmine. "This whole fucking thing is a set-up. It was never about Woods, babe. It was about us."

"Right you are, Reigns! Fifty points to Gryffindor! I'm not the target here. I never was. You are. Both of you. The Authority and F.L.O.R.A. realized your relationship could compromise them all, so they doubled up. They’ve been working together for months, trying to eliminate you both. And thanks to me, they're going to succeed and I'm getting the payday of a lifetime and my golden ticket outta this god-forsaken shithole of a country!" 

He grinned evilly at the two assassins. "So, with that being said, I hope you two have made peace with your Maker because you, my friends, are about to die."

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Credit to the owners of the pics and gifs.

I've given up on the tag list. But please leave comments, I still love comments! ❤