#I know nothing about these characters so if there’s a detail wrong I apologise profusely

[umactuallycallie]

Also a Martin and the Magnus Protocol trailer blind listen sketches.

[fanfickittycat]

The Price

TITLE: The Price CHAPTER NUMBER/ONE SHOT: Chapter 3 AUTHOR: fanfickittycat CHARACTERS/PAIRING: Roman Godfrey x OC GENRE: Romance, Smut FIC SUMMARY: Ginger makes a deal with popular bad boy Roman, if he helps her up the social ladder by pretending to be her boyfriend then she’ll be his dog in return RATING: M AUTHORS NOTES/WARNINGS: In which Ginger and Roman don’t speak until their relationship is put to the test 

The day had started off quietly. I had sulked all weekend and the sight of Roman pulling up in his stupid, fancy car didn’t stop me from continuing the silent treatment. I thought he’d maybe call or text at the very least to say sorry; maybe even turn up to the ice cream shop I worked in to tell me in person that he wanted to apologise but instead I heard nothing. The next I saw of him was his car pulling up outside my house, and I dodged the questions from my nosey mother who had been desperate for details on this mystery boy and his beautiful car. I continued sulking all the way to school which didn’t mean anything to him because he kept quiet too. It only irritated me more. I went to History feeling too angry to concentrate, and instead doodled in my notebook. The only thing I could really draw were wolves, after an angsty pre-teenhood of being obsessed with Twilight. The results were scratchy pictures of angry wolves, baring their teeth and howling at a non-existent moon.

I felt listless all day; unable to stop my stomach from churning and my mind from wandering as I sat in class, effectively sleeping with my eyes open. When lunch drew nearer I wondered if I should seek Roman out, but I was still nursing my wounded pride and instead started walking briskly to nowhere in particular. I wasn’t sure if it was my conceited imagination or actual fact, but I felt like everyone’s eyes were on me. Whispers brushed past me and made me feel uneasy because I couldn’t tell if they were real or if I was paranoid. I ended up escaping into the library and disappeared into an aisle to stare at some books and try to calm down.

Someone cleared their throat near me and I looked up to see Theo standing there in the same hoodie he was wearing yesterday “you okay?”

“What? Yeah, I’m fine” I gibbered unconvincingly, I brushed a hand through my hair to look more normal but Theo didn’t seem convinced.

“It’s okay if you’re not” he said softly “I saw you yesterday, y’know, crying. You ran into me.”

I felt mortified “Sorry, it’s uh, just stuff. Stupid stuff.”

“Godfrey stuff?” I tried to look nonchalant and shrugged, refusing to look Theo in the eyes even though he was being really nice right now. I wondered what it would be like to have Roman being the same; soft and caring but quickly abandoned the thought when I caught myself.

“I don’t really want to talk about it here” I said, feeling acutely aware of how quiet it was and unsure if Theo was even the person I should be confiding in. I wasn’t friends with Theo but I’d known him for pretty much my entire academic life, which was sort of comforting considering I didn’t have any real friends.

We ended up walking outside and avoiding the newly formed puddles. The parking lot was pretty vacant, save for a few people who were only here to avoid the scrutiny of the teachers and have a smoke break. I coughed, still not used to the burning smell, and watched Theo stick his hands in his pockets.

“They say the weather is going to get better” he offered, and when it didn’t elicit a response from me he sighed “you don’t have to pretend with me okay?”

“Pretend what?” I felt my heart thump, almost painfully, against my ribs as I fizzled with anticipation of what he was going to say. Would he confess that he had feelings for me? That I could let my guard down with him the way I couldn’t with Roman? Was it bad to want that?

“You and Godfrey. I know you’re not really dating.”

I swallowed nervously but tried to look neutral even though my face felt hot “why do you say that?”

Theo shrugged “He doesn’t date anyone and honestly? You’re not… special enough to get his attention, let alone keep it.”

“Wait, what?”

“That came out wrong” Theo said and rubbed his eyes while I stood statue still, feeling more and more upset “I just mean, like, why would he date you?” He gestured at me and I tried my best to keep my feelings down my throat, but Theo’s comments only clicked into place with Roman’s like a cruel jigsaw puzzle.

“don’t pretend like you’re nothing but a desperate attention whore.”

“Is this what I look like to everyone?” I said, my voice cracking as the emotions swelled inside of me. Theo’s figure became blurred as the tears filled my eyes and I blotted them quickly with the back of my hand and sniffed. I felt ugly and exposed. Theo touched my shoulder and I shook him off, half way between being angry and sad.

“Oh jeez, Ginger, I’m sorry but it’s just the truth isn’t it?” Theo said “the relationship is fake isn’t it? I don’t know if Roman has something on you or whatever, but you don’t have to sell yourself out for him like this.” I felt speechless though later I would think of a hundred things to say back, and instead trembled like a fragile leaf in autumn. I closed my eyes, tears squeezing themselves out of my eyelids as he continued “you only look pathetic to everyone now, but if you left him and kept your head down instead then maybe people would actually like you an-“ I snapped my eyes open when Theo’s talking was cut off with the sound of his cry.

I stared wide eyed as Theo’s lip was coloured crimson with his blood, and Roman’s knuckle was stained the same hue of red. For the second time that day I wasn’t able to say anything; I tried to approach Theo but he only backed away, looking more bewildered than anything.

“Roman?” I kept trying to form a sentence but I was so shocked that no word other than his name escaped my lips. He put his arm around me, gripping me so tightly that I understood it as his silent command to keep quiet.

“What the fuck, Godfrey?” Theo had recovered from his state of shock, but his lip was still bleeding profusely and he had to use the sleeve of his hoodie to try and soak it up. It was not a pretty sight.

“That’s my girl you’re making cry” Roman seethed “you stay away from her, asshole” his jaw was tense as he spoke, and his lips curled back in a snarl. He turned around, forcing me to turn with him and his grip didn’t let up even when we were out of Theo’s sight. He pulled me with him into one of his small, secret corners where he let me go finally.

I watched Roman light a cigarette. He offered it to me but I declined “you know I don’t smoke.”

“It’ll help.”

I hesitated and then took it gingerly between my fingers, ghosting my lips over it and taking a breath only to cough and splutter it out seconds later. Roman’s lips tugged at one end; obviously amused by my loss of my smoking virginity. He took it back, showing off by blowing a ring.

“What was that?”

“What was I meant to do? He was making you cry.”

I frowned “you made me cry too, why don’t you punch yourself in the face?”

“Careful dog” Roman warned “I’m your owner, I get to speak to you how I like and other people don’t… But” he exhaled a cloud of smoke “maybe I was a little harsh.”

“Are you apologising?” I couldn’t help but smile; excited by this half victory that I was getting after a dismal day. The sunlight was sharp after days of clouds and Roman squinted as the rays hit his face.

“Don’t get used to it” he said, sitting on the floor to escape the sun, though the light still managed to find him and illuminate the back of his head. I joined him on the floor, holding my breath when my knee touched his but he didn’t seem to care.

“Well thanks for standing up for me.”

“You should learn to stand up for yourself, you worry too much about what other people think about you.”

“You could just say you’re welcome.”

“Dogs don’t tell their masters what to do” he said, but he let his hand stroke over my hair, an action he only did when other people were around. I thought maybe this was the turning over of a new leaf but then Roman, as per usual, ruined it by tugging my hair, not hard enough to really hurt but enough to make me wince ‘ow!’. He only smirked in response and I took back my claim. Maybe he wouldn’t change that much, but something had shifted, even if I couldn’t quite name it.

[a-scattered-memory]

Ignis Fluff Week Day 1

Prompt: Baby Ignis, Ignis and his father figure Pairing: Ignis x Reader (gender neutral) Words: 2160 Warnings: none Notes: (f/n) - first name (l/n) - last name (f/t) - formal title (e.g. miss, mister…)

It was the day following his introduction to the crown prince to whom he would be dedicating his time and, as extreme as it sounded for a 6 year old, his life for the foreseeable future. He had spent his first day at the Citadel getting to know Prince Noctis as well as one day would allow, putting into practice all the manners and courtesy he had worked so hard to perfect and quickly learning that he didn’t have to go to such lengths to win the young boy’s favour at all, yet he had kept up his formalities as he had practiced all the same.

Today his uncle, who would be acting as his guardian figure while in Insomnia until he was himself an adult was showing him around the Citadel and formally introducing him to the main figures he’d be working with on a day to day basis. The nerves he had yesterday were nothing compared to how he felt now. Don’t get him wrong, he was terrified yesterday at the prospect of meeting King Regis Lucis Caelum, King of Lucis and his son the prince for the very first time and at one point he thought that he’d never be able to get the lines he had rehearsed for their meeting out of his head he had repeated them so much but the king was so kind and warm with him and placed so much confidence in him that his fears soon melted away. Now however, he was meeting such a huge amount of people in such a short period of time that he couldn’t help but feel under a constant pressure to make sure he lived up to what he was taught was expected of him with every new greeting.

Already he had met a young boy similar to him in age that would be Noctis’s future shield. Gladiolus Amicitia as he recalled. He acted so strong and serious for his age, no doubt trying to mirror his father himself already but as Ignis’s uncle had a small chat with Clarus, he let his true colours start to show and the playfulness he had tried to hide come out as they talked. They departed exchanging smiles and no doubt that helped Ignis feel more at ease, having made such a good start with someone he’d be working so closely with from now on, knowing that he had already at least one friend and wasn’t completely alone in handling whatever would come in both their future and Noct’s.

As he walked briskly alongside his uncle in an effort to keep up, they made there way down a marble floored hallway, marked with vases of beautiful purple flowers and ornate sconces every couple of metres. Ignis had grown up in wealth but the extravagance of the Citadel was on another level, beyond compare to anything he had ever seen. His eyes wandered and his mouth parted slightly in admiration at it all, lingering on the beautiful paintings on display, completly absent minded and full of the wonder and awe any six year old would have. He jumped slightly as he felt a hand pat his head and slide down to rest gently on his shoulder in reassurance as he walked.

“It is quite mesmerising, isn’t it,” his uncle spoke warmly, a small smile on his face as he looked down to his nephew. “You are doing excellently Ignis, everyone is overwhelming impressed with you. There’s no need to fret so much.”

Ignis took a deep breath and smiled back up at his uncle, nodding and as his uncle’s hand returned to his side, Ignis sped up a few paces and quietly took hold of it.

“I don’t know how you are going manage the gardens’ beauty though,” he chuckled as they approached a large open hallroom, double doors at the opposite end opening into the gardens.

Ignis straightened his posture again as they walk over the threshold but he couldn’t help his expression from faltering as he caught first sight of the area. Breathtaking was an understatement. Everywhere was exploding in colour, so many shades of green that each held their own unique appeal, shades of blues and purples, pinks, oranges and yellows, any colour that you could think of all somehow coming together and complimenting each other despite having every reason not to. Ignis was sure there were some colours mixed in that he had never even seen until now. Great topiaries, masterfully trimmed and clipped without so much as a leaf out of place towered above the small boy as far as the eye could see, various styles of water fountains land marking the different sections of the vast garden. Ignis’s pace subconsciously slowed as he tried to take in as many details as he could. Even at such a young age he had such a taste for even the finest details and wanted to take in everything possible from what was around him. His uncle couldn’t help but chuckle again and smile as he glanced down to see his reaction.

“Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of time to explore and investigate every nook and cranny other days, it’s not going to disappear if you look away.”

This brought him to his senses and he hopped a little to catch up, tightening his hand in his uncle’s. His uncle’s eyes had also however begun to wander around the garden, as if in search of something or in this case most likely someone.

“Who will we be meeting now?” the young boy asked curiously. The only people he could see around were some gardeners tending to the watering and maintenance of the plants and flowers but as his uncle’s gaze always seemed to look past them he assumed they were not who he needed.

“The royal scientists’ child, another member of the future royal cabinet with whom you will will be working with closely for the duration of your service. I believe they’re about a year or two your senior but you should get on quite splendidly, they are quite open and pleasant with the rest of the King’s affiliates. Their parents were unfortunately too preoccupied to meet with you today but their child is here somewhere, or so they are supposed to be though it honestly would not surprise me if they have ended up on the other side of the Citadel completely…”

Ignis cocked his head, his light strands of his bangs sweeping slightly over his forehead with the motion. His curiosity was growing at whoever this character was, both because of their association and because they were the only person so far that his uncle had no definite list of places to find.

The pair turned a bushed corner of the garden which had begun to seem more like a maze to him now and sure enough at the end of the path at the next turn was a small figure looking almost engulfed by a white coat that pooled around them as they stayed in a crouched position.

“Ah, there they are, no doubt picking apart something or another as per usual.” His tone was a little more upbeat, not unlike how it was when he spoke with the young Amicitia lad earlier but somewhat lighter. As they approached the small bundle, they’re instruments came more clearly into view. Layed out beside and in front of them were sets of tweezers, scissors, agar plates and all other sorts of equipment and they worked away grabbing and replacing the various utensils and placing snips of some small purple flowers in some open plates in front of them. A strand of hair fell in front of their face as the worked away intently and they brushed it behind their ear before carrying on, humming slightly and mumbling something to themselves every now and then. Ignis let go of his uncle’s hand as he prepared to recite his opening lines once again.

“(f/t) (l/n), -,” Ignis’s uncle called to get her attention but was quickly cut off.

“Oh, Count Scientia, I was actually about to ask for you,” the young child cut in quite chirply, obviously looking forward to his presence yet they did not lift their attention from what was in front on them. “I wanted to try something out with some of the flowers so I thought it’d be good if I used some people’s favourite flowers so that they could keep them after and they wouldn’t go to waste. Oh, but that’s if it even works of course, I’m not entirely sure but as long as I’m careful I should be allowed to keep practicing until I do. But anyway, yes, I needed to ask you what your favourite flower was and also your favourite colour but if you need to-”

“(f/n), Ignis”

“An Ignis? I’m sorry, I’ve never heard of that one before, I don’t think we have it. Is it kind of like the sylleblossom where it grows only in a certain place or-”

“(f/n).”

“Now that’s my name and I KNOW I don’t share a name with a flower, I checked a lot before so one day I’m going to try and make sure-”

He sighed exasperatedly and was forced to resort to the only surefire way he knew to get their attention.

“(f/t) (full name),” he spoke in a sterner, more serious tone than before but not with anger or frustration. At his words, they layed their equipment down and shot up, back straight and turned towards him, hands formally behind their back wearing a neutral expression as if they had just been summoned before officials. When they turned around though they’re eyes instead met with bright emerald eyes only a couple of inches from theirs and startled, Ignis stepped back abruptly only to trip over himself and fall to the ground. They gasped and made their way over to them.

“I deeply apologise, I truly did not mean to startle you,” they apologised profusely, their demeanour and manner of speaking doing a complete 180 to how it had been just moments ago. Ignis, still quite in shock, managed to stutter out an “It’s quite alright, it wasn’t intentional��� or something along the lines before checking the cut on the elbow he had landed on.

“Oh, hold on a second.” They dug in the deep pockets of their white lab coat for then their bandages and antiseptic cream that they carried with them in the event the cut themselves while engrossed in their work.

“Count Scientia,” a voice called from the end of the path that the Scientia’s had just walked. He smiled at the two as the scientists’ young child tended to Ignis’s scrape and decided that it would probably do them well to give them time to talk as friends rather than he being present as a constant reminder that they were supposed to be primarily work partners.

“Apologies, I will return in a moment.”

Ignis nodded at this and sat up so that the young scientist could better reach the cut. They carefully applied the star patterned bandages as gently as they could, apologising once again. He pressed his mouth in a thin line and his eyes watered slightly as the cut stung as the cream acted on it but knew it was for his good. As (f/n) packed the bandages and cream back in their pockets, they were taken aback as Ignis extended a hand to her.

“My name is Ignis Scientia. I am here as Prince Noctis’s advisor and chamberlain in his future life and duties and will be spending my time working in Insomnia dn the Citadel in order to better my skills and serve my prince to the best of my ability. I look forward to working alongside you and our future relationships.”

They hesitated for a second before clasping his hand and tugging lightly as they stood up so that he rose with them. Once they were both on their feet again, they shook his hand properly and smiled to him brightly.

“(f/n) (l/n). It’s a pleasure to meet you Ignis.” Their smile was so contagious he couldn’t help but return it, both forgetting to part hands. “Oh! I know! I can work on a flower for you too! Which one is your favourite?”

“I-I don’t know, I haven’t had a chance to properly explore the garden yet, my apologies,” he replied, slightly flustered by the sudden proposal.

“That’s great! I can give you a tour then and tell you about everything!” they beamed and began to lead him away, completely forgetting their tools in the process. Ignis followed alongside them intently listening to what they had to say.

From the opposite side of the path, Ignis’s uncle watched as the pair began to wander about together and simply smiled to himself, full of pride.

You have absolutely nothing to worry about, my Ignis.

[dr-imaginesandscenariosarchive]

Hi! This is kind of suggestive, but I can have a female s/o walking in on kaede, miu, kirumi, maki, and tenko changing

Ooohhh a suggestive request!! Suggestive is best, I always say~ Some of these got a little long and suggestive, so it’s under the cut. I really hope you like it! I focused on keeping everyone in character, so some of them are longer than others~ Mod Iruma

Kaede Akamatsu

You’d come to watch her play piano, and were heading to her dressing room to surprise her before the show. You didn’t really think she’d be getting changed in there-- I mean, what she was wearing before the show was lovely enough. But when you opened the door--You saw her standing naked in front of the mirror, turning this way and that as if admiring her body-- no, wait, she wasn’t naked. She was wearing underwear and a strapless bra that blended in with her skin tone.You still hadn’t been prepared for that, and though you could feel the colour rising to your cheeks you were rooted to the spot.But then she noticed you in the mirror and shrieked, nearly tripping over herself in shock.“S-S/o! G-get out! I-I’m happy to see you! ...B-But get out!”Apologising profusely, you quickly left, leaning against the door after you’d closed it so that no-one else could accidentally walk in and trying very hard not to think of what you’d just seen in immense detail.

Miu Iruma

Miu said it herself, “I show my panties to the boys all the time! And I mean, all the time!“And regardless of whether or not that was true, you were different-- and not just because you were a girl.So she hadn’t shown you that yet, but you were about to see it anyway.Miu’s taking a long time in the bathroom... maybe I should check on her?Feeling slightly concerned, you tapped lightly on the door.No response.“Miu?” you called, but still... nothing.A knot of dread started forming in your stomach, and while your brain was scrambling for a rational explanation, your hand was taking action and opening the door.And there was Miu-- wearing nothing but her lacy, black panties.Which she seemed to have only just slid on.What a pity.She was now bending down to pick up her bra from the pile of clothes strewn across the tiled floor. You knew you should go... but you were frozen in place.Until--“I-I know you’re there!”“Ah... I... um... you... well...” You quickly averted your eyes. “Wh-what are you even doing?!”“What does it look like?! I was gettin’ changed!” she snapped, wrestling with the clasp on the back of her bra.“But it’s been, like, an hour-- and what were you getting changed for anyway?!”“I just felt like it, alright! Gorgeous girl genius Miu Iruma gets changed whenever she fuckin’ feels like it!”"O-okay, then...” There was no point trying to rationalise it-- this was Miu, after all. “Do you, um... need a hand?”“H-huh?”You sighed, before walking over and quickly fixing the clasp on her bra. She squeaked when your fingers brushed her skin, and you couldn’t help but smile at how cute it sounded. You turned to leave, and had almost closed the door when she blurted, “A-Aren’t you gonna say something nice?”“The gorgeous girl genius wants to know what I think?” you teased, but your expression softened when you realised how vulnerable she looked. “Stunning~” you cooed, and closed the door with a wink, before she could start bragging and cackling again.

Kirumi Tojo

Kirumi Tojo makes it her mission to rise earlier than everyone else, as well as to only go to bed after everyone is sound asleep. Needless to say, she usually only gets changed at these two times, but…“O-oops…”Sometimes, accidents happen.You’d accidentally nudged the pitcher of orange juice just a little, and it had ended up spilling all over the table cloth and dripping onto Kirumi’s lap.“Please, do not worry,” she assured you, rising gracefully to her feet and collecting the table cloth in the same movement. “I shall wash these immediately, before they stain.”You were flustered, and didn’t realise that by these she meant the tablecloth and everything she was wearing.“Kirumi, do you need a hand? I feel really terr–”Damn, that’s some sexy underwear.She halted, her fingers freezing in place at the clasp on the back of her bra. “I do not recall hearing you knock, S/o,” she said simply, watching you out of the corner of her eye.“I-I didn’t– I– I’ll just–”“Please do not forget to close the door on your way out.”You quickly did as you were told, feeling very hot as you ran back out into the dining room.Kirumi was not impressed. But you certainly were.

Maki Harukawa

You’d just come back to her place after a nice, long walk around the local park together. You didn’t realise that she had gone to get changed, and when you pushed open her door, asking if she had the ingredients for hot chocolate--You saw her long black hair trailing down her naked back, caressing her slim hips and waist on the way down to her--She whipped her head around, glaring at you. Your mouth remained open for a few seconds, but you quickly closed it when you saw the look on her face. Her cheeks were very red but her eyes were almost black.Still, now that you were here... you might as well ask, right? Wrong"U-um... do you have any--”“Do you want to die?”“N-no! I’m sorry!”You quickly closed the door, nearly shutting it on your fingers in the process.“...Be careful.”“I-I’m sorry!”You were too scared to dwell on what you’d seen in her presence, because somehow you felt that she’d know, but later that night when you were alone in bed you thought to yourself, “...She looked really good in those panties.”

Tenko Chabashira

You’d been out swimming together, but when you came back after buying a drink Tenko was no longer in the pool. So you went looking for her, ending up in the public bathroom. All of the doors were closed except for the cubicle on the end, which was slightly ajar, and without thinking you went to open it– but you stopped yourself just in time. Through the gap, you could see gently rounded shoulders, the subtle curve of a well-postured back, and even a little bit of her bare–“AHHHHHH!”The door slammed in your face. You’d been caught.“I-I-” please don’t make me explain“S/o?!” Tenko opened the door just enough to poke her head through. “Y-You scared me!! I thought you were some disgusting degenerate male come to peek at me!”“I-I… I just didn’t know where you’d gone… Wh-why didn’t you lock the door?”“Ah… the lock is busted…” She looked suddenly bashful, smiling shyly at you as she added, “I thought we could have lunch together, so I was getting changed…”“O-Oh! That sounds nice! I’ll go get changed too!”You turned to go into the adjacent cubicle, but now there was a line of people waiting to use the bathroom. “I’ll go line up,” you sighed, heading for the back of the queue.“W-wait, S/o!” You turned to see Tenko blushing even harder than before. “W-We’re both girls, and you’ve already seen… just now… S-so, whydon’tyoucomeandgetchangedinherewithme?”Even without the impatient stares of the people who were lining up boring into the back of your head, you knew that there was only one answer. “Y-yeah! Coming!”You couldn’t help but notice, however, that it was going to be a rather tight fit.

[dalishwolfhound]

Start to Make It Better

Okay here’s that Westein thing I wrote last night. It’s all fluff just because.

Characters: Joe West/Martin Stein Rating: G Word count: 2471

AO3 Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11091438

---

That Dr. Stein could occasionally be heard singing in the labs was everyone’s favourite worst-kept secret. It was only ever when he thought he was completely alone, and even then only when he was so lost in his work that he didn’t realise he was doing it.

But despite both Barry (with his super-speedy accidental eavesdropping) and Cisco’s (not so accidental security footage and one-time vibing) insistence, Martin would out right deny any knowledge of it.

“I do not sing .”

And that was the end of the subject as far as Martin was concerned, evidenced by the fact that he completely ignored both of the young men’s protests-

“We heard you!”

- and continued his calculations like they were mere background noise.

(The recorded footage mysteriously disappeared before Cisco could follow through on his threat to show everyone, and Caitlin took his full week of pouting with fond cajoling. It was preferable to the strain that recording could have put on the group’s already somewhat tense dynamic.)

Dr. Stein had become somewhat of a permanent placement at Star Labs after his marriage had dissolved. It had been amicable, apparently, but no less devastating for being so understandable; Clarissa had spent a year assuming her husband was dead, had grieved, comes to terms, and then finally began to move on. So to have him back so suddenly, but under such complex circumstances, had proven too much for their relationship to survive.

But as his marriage failed, Martin found an unlikely friend in Joe West. Joe had stepped in even before any of the others had noticed there was something wrong. Whether it was by training or natural empathy, Joe had seemed to sense the grief that Martin was trying to keep under wraps, and had gone to him one evening (long after the younger members of the team had called it a day) with a hot coffee and willing ear.

And even when Martin had insisted there was nothing wrong, that he didn’t need anyone sticking their nose in his business thank you very much , something about Joe’s soft understanding and easy smile eased his mind. So much so that before the coffee had cooled he found himself spilling his anxieties to the man. A man he barely knew and yet radiated warmth and trust like they were old friends.

That the rest of the lab were surprised to find out about the overnight friendship would be an understatement. It also meant that they had to watch their words if Joe was around, since he was now apt to scold them for complaining about Martin too often.

So it was only a matter of time before Joe found out about Martin’s little musical inclination.

It was late, again, and Barry and the others, devoid of any new cataclysms to battle, had gone on a well-earned night out. Joe had heard tell of a karaoke bar, and Cisco looked absolutely delighted at the chance to finally hear Barry sing (Caitlin apologised profusely for ever letting that slip.)

But Joe knew Martin well enough to know there wasn’t a chance on any Earth that he could be persuaded to accompany them. No, the scientist would no doubt spend his evening down in the labs, working on something that Joe couldn’t even begin to understand, until it was time to retire to his rooms.

And Joe wasn’t about to let him spend the evening alone when everyone else was out enjoying themselves.

There was always a gentle hum about StarLabs. No one else seemed to notice it, but Joe felt it every time he stepped inside the building. It was like the knowledge contained within the building gave off its own vibrations and tried to sink into everything it touched. If Joe could compare it to anything, it was like the silent visceral tension at a sports match when the final, tie-breaking shot was taken. Like a breath held in anticipation.

But this time it was a different hum he encountered as he made his way down to the science labs, coffees in one hand, and a flat box in the other.

A musical hum.

It wasn’t quite singing, just the barest hint of words in the tune, but it drew Joe to a standstill just out of eyeshot, lest Martin notice him and stop. The scientist didn’t sound happy , per se, but he sounded relaxed, and that was something Joe was loathe to interrupt.

At least until he’d figured out just what Martin was humming anyway.

“ Hey Jude…” The soft murmur dissolved into humming again as the scientist moved across the lab, and after a few more seconds Joe couldn’t stay out any longer.

“ Remember to let her into you heart-” Joe didn’t have a bad voice, so he had been told, so announcing his presence with a song wasn’t something he was a stranger to.

Martin would probably have rather he did anything but, however, as he let out a yelp of shock and recoiled into a table of implements that went crashing to ground in a cacophony of distinctly un-melodic noise.

“Detective West!”

“Oh my-- Martin, I’m so sorry,” Joe was trying not to laugh as he unloaded his coffee and box onto the nearest surface and went over to help. “Are you okay?”

He certainly hadn’t meant to shock the scientist to quite that extent, but Joe would admit that the bright shade of pink Martin had turned was adorable.

“Q-quite alright, detective,” Martin replied brusquely, hurriedly picking up the tools, not quite able to look Joe in the eye when the detective helped assemble the last of them.

“I assumed I was alone tonight,” Martin continued as he straightened and placed the tray back on the table it had been knocked from.

“Just... how long were you there, may I ask?”

‘ Not long enough,’ Martin thought.

“I just got here,” he said instead, “and I brought coffee. And pizza.”

That seemed to be enough to immediately forgive Joe of any sins, because the look of abject joy on Martin’s face at the mention of both of those things was delightful. So much so Joe felt his own face breaking into a pleased grin.

“Come on, take a break,” Joe insisted, grabbing two chairs and rolling them up to the desk where he had placed the pizza and coffee.

“Not… not that I’m not appreciative, Detective-”

“Joe.”

“- Joseph, but surely you have better things to do than sequester yourself down here of an evening?”

After settling into his chair Joe took a long drink of his coffee and regarded Martin with a skeptical look as the scientist continued.

“I know for a fact Mr. Allen and his entourage are spending a night on the town. Surely you would find their company more scintillating?”

Despite his words, Martin still took a seat down next to Joe, wrapping his hands around the cardboard coffee cup and breathing a sigh of pleasure. Joe could swear he could see the tension melting off the other man.

“I could ask you the same thing?” Joe countered, setting his coffee down and reaching to open the pizza box.

Martin let out a huff of amusement, “I don’t think their youthful brand of entertainment is quite my speed, I’m afraid.”

Joe wouldn’t break it to him that the eager way the scientist reached for the pizza was very similar to the way a certain speedster would lunge towards his own food.

“You never know,” Joe countered with a grin at Martin’s skeptical look, “I heard they were taking to a karaoke bar tonight.”

There was that blush again, telling that Martin knew exactly what he was getting at, but Joe decided not  to push it further lest it become a sore point, and instead changed the subject. He asked what Martin was working on, and suddenly the time was filled with Martin explaining in great detail (that went straight over Joe’s head) all of his theories and calculations.

So they ate, and drank coffee, and Martin talked and talked, and Joe enjoyed every moment watching the scientist speak animatedly about his work.

Just a few months before, Martin’s pain and grief had weighed so heavy it had been hard to get even two words from him, so Joe basked now in every free-spoken word the man spoke.

Eventually the science ended though, and the pizza was long gone, and they were both starting to stifle yawns at the lateness. But before he went, Joe had to ask.

“So… Hey Jude ?”

The embarrassed groan that Martin let out was answer enough, and Joe laughed before adding-

“It’s actually one of my favourite songs,” he admitted, meeting Martin’s surprised look with a bright smile.

“I thought you’d be too young for that?” Martin queried with embarrassed amusement, and Joe laughed again, knocking his leg against Martin’s cajolingly.

“I’m not that young,” he reminded the other man, before continuing quickly, “I used to sing it to Iris when she was little.”

“She was a very lucky little girl, then,” the answer came sincerely, then faltered when Martin realised the complement he had levied without forethought.

Joe was sure his grin was incorrigible, and Martin almost immediately began to protest in embarrassment.

“Joseph, I didn’t mean-”

“Didn’t mean what?”

“I-I…”

Joe would be lying if he said he didn’t find Martin attractive. It was also something Iris would call him out on if he tried to deny because she had had his ‘crush’ pinned before even he’d realised. She had also been the one to reassure him that Martin had definitely sent more than a few lingering looks his way.

But Joe was a respectful man, and had no desire to overstep his boundaries whilst Martin dealt with the dissolution of his marriage.

He also valued Martin as a friend and if that was all Martin ultimately wanted, that was more than enough for him.

But some teasing was allowed, of course. Especially amongst friends.

“I can sing it, if you want?” Joe asked insistently, grinning and half turning in his seat.

“No, that wasn’t what-” Martin was protesting, but the half-smile on his face spoke otherwise.

“ Hey Jude-”

“No, Joseph, really-”

“ Don’t make it bad. Take a sad song and make it better.”

Joe wasn’t shy about singing, and stood up from his chair as he continue, aware that Martin’s expression was helpless but fond. And he had stopped protesting.

“ Remember, to let her into your heart. Then you can start- to make it better.”

Joe didn’t know what he expected when he held his hands down to Martin, only that it was almost automatic, in the same way he held out it hands to his daughter, his adoptive son, his few lovers, whenever he sang.

And if he was surprised when Martin took his hands with an obliging expression, he tried to hide it.

The scientist let Joe pull him to his feet, then allowed him to keep hold of his hands as he sang with a smile.

“ Hey Jude, don’t be afraid, you were made to go out and get her.”

Martin seemed to hesitate and fight with himself, breathing a helpless laugh to the ceiling before Joe’s enthusiasm ultimately ended up being too contagious and he joined in, albeit quietly.

“T he minute, you let her under your skin, then you begin- to make it better.”

They both laughed at the silliness of it, and then Joe couldn’t help but cajole.

“So you do sing,” he insisted, then laughed again when Martin tried to pull away with embarrassment, holding his hands and pulling him back closer. If he was surprised Martin let him he didn’t say anything.

“I would request that you don’t tell anyone about this lapse of judgement,” Martin requested, the mask of seriousness slipping back down, but Joe wasn’t about to let that ruin the moment.

“I supposed I could,” he agree, testing his boundaries and leaning in closer in a movement that could be interpreted as just teasing if Martin wanted.

The way that Martin looked at him was of wide-eyed uncertainty, but he didn’t move away, even with Joe scarce inches away.

“Could?”

“Mmhmm,” Joe agreed, “If… you agreed to… I don’t know, go for dinner with me?”

Martin’s eyebrows hit his hairline, and Joe would have laughed if he hadn’t been so focussed on maintaining his cool. He was sure they could recapture their friendship if he was reading the signals wrong, they were both adults, after all. But in his heart he felt like a nervous teenager again, and it was nerve-wracking for all its ridiculousness.

He was aware that he and Martin couldn’t be more different. Joe West wasn’t a man prone to self-consciousness, but even still, he couldn’t help be a little worried that the intelligent, accomplished man before him was out of his league.

(If he knew that Dr. Stein thought the exact same thing of him then maybe his worries would have been eased.)

“I… supposed that would be�� agreeable,” Martin said after a deliberate silence, clearing his throat as though that could disguise his heated cheeks.

But Joe’s bright, delighted smile was contagious, and the way he fingers squeezed Martin’s hand confirmed his joy.

For a moment Joe began to pull back, pleased enough with the outcome, then he stalled and seemed to think better of it.

Before Martin could ask what was wrong, Joe moved back, stepping close and leaning in. He waited, giving the scientist time to pull back, but when he was met with only stillness he closed the gap.

The kiss was soft and brief, just a lingering press of intent before Joe stepped back and observed the stunned expression on Martin’s face with a pleased smile.

Before he could recover his senses and speak, Joe used his hold on Martin’s hands to lift them to his mouth, pressing gentle kisses to the backs before letting them go and stepping back.

“So, tomorrow?” Joe asked, gathering up his jacket that he had removed earlier.

“Tomorrow?” Martin still seemed to be blinking the stars out from behind his glasses.

“At 7. Dinner?”

“Oh! Yes… yes,” Martin nodded, clearly making an effort to gather his resolve, and succeeding only in looking embarrassed at his distraction, “That sounds…”

“Agreeable?” Joe offered with a grin, and Martin laughed. It did sound rather formal being put like that.

“Yes, just so.” He smiled, the expression only softening when Joe leaned in to press a brief kiss to his cheek.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Joe finished buttoning his jacket, then checked his pockets to make sure he had everything before turning to leave. “Goodnight Dr. Stein.”

“Goodnight Joseph.”

And if both of them could be found humming ‘Hey Jude’  the next day, well, that was hardly surprising.

[mollymauk-teafleak]

On taking relationship advice from kindergarteners

I wrote a little thing for @oversaturated-ocean and our Alex/Eliza teacher AU! It follows on from their amazing fic, Staples and involves over enthusiastic kindergarten teacher Mr Hamilton attempting to start a relationship with the very kind and very pretty Nurse Schuyler. Which is a little tricky given that the last time they interacted, he fainted...

Most adults who met Alexander Hamilton, who knew him from his college days or bumped into him at the bar or at various rallies and marches and demonstrations would describe him as volatile. Argumentative. Hot tempered. And they wouldn’t exactly be wrong. Alex lent himself that brand from a single glance, with his wiry frame and his dark, dramatic eyes and mouth that was usually twisted in a frown and always ready to espouse opinions. Every inch of him, every brief conversation (as few people got away from Alex without hearing his sharp, animated voice) left most adults commenting that he was an angry man. A loud, brash and forceful kind of man who wasn’t particularly good at or bothered by getting people to like him.

These adults would probably laugh aloud if they were then told what Alex actually did for a living.

 The embittered, impulsive liberal scholar was how most people knew him. Unless of course they were one of the five year olds he taught kindergarten to at King’s Elementary.

Those little kids all knew Mr Hamilton to be one of the sweetest and kindest and funniest teachers there ever was. The guy who taught them geography by proudly sporting an old explorer’s hat he’d bought from a thrift store and took them on a grand Jules Verneian tour of the world and math with such patience and attention that no kid felt left behind or confused. The guy who always made time for a story at the end of the day, telling them with huge theatrical gestures and a whole cast of different funny voices, pacing around the room until every little set of eyes was on him. The guy who never, ever raised his voice when he was angry, he’d always sit and explain and listen and talk until following his word just made logical sense. The guy who accepted every flower and bottle cap and feather he was brought after playtime with a huge smile and a hug of thanks. Who tried to implement a Gold Star chart, with tiny stickers awarded to each child for good behaviour, but his definition of ‘good behaviour’ extended so wide that within a week there was no more room for any stars by anyone’s name. The whole thing was full up. So, he’d let the children go home on Friday afternoon with the gold stars decorating their cheeks instead, alongside huge smiles. To the kids, Mr Hamilton was the teacher who peppered his lessons with a little Spanish, who gave them all personalised nicknames, who let them sit on his knee and dry their eyes on his sleeve when a scraped knee or a too hard piece of homework or something at home made them cry. He would never press for details, not until the kid had them freely to give, the hugs and the tissues and the cheer up high fives always came first.

With his funny ties with cartoon characters and brightly coloured hair ties in his pony tail, his bright grin and his bouncy attitude, to his class Mr Hamilton was a hero.

 It had taken Alex a whole evening to decorate his classroom for Valentine’s Day; even after pulling a begrudging Peggy away from the secretary desk to help, it had taken hours until there were enough red streamers and craft paper hearts and pipe cleaner roses for Alex to be satisfied. The looks on the kids’ faces in the morning had been well worth the many paper cuts on his fingers and having to yet again explain to Principle Washington, yes this is vital for the children’s learning, no I won’t go overboard again like last year, yes, I’ll restock the stationary cupboard with glue.

Of course, Alex still taught them their usual lessons in the morning, helping them learn how to tell a triangle from a square and how to count to ten without using fingers and how to get a capital S the right way around. But he did do the whole thing with flashing love heart deelyboppers waggling away on top of his head, so he reckoned he was still on theme. But after lunch, the formalities were out of the way and the kids could really get into the spirit of things with making their own Valentine’s day cards. Of course, Alex made sure to explain that their cards could be for anybody, that there were lots and lots of different kinds of love for different kinds of people and they could celebrate any kind they wanted today.

Now usually during craft time, Alex would be weaving his way through the tables, picking his way around the mounds of glitter and growing swamps of paste and so many scraps of brightly coloured paper it looked like someone had fired off a confetti cannon. He’d be full of smiles and appreciation, oohing and ahhing and every little creation he was proudly shown, not minding in the slightest when he ended up with red finger paint prints on his shirt.

But today, he stayed at his desk, with his own little stack of card and pot of glitter and coloured pencils, frowning and concentrating so hard his tongue was poking out of the side of his mouth. Which of course caught his students’ attention immediately; when did their teacher ever sit still willingly?

“Mr Hamilton? Mr Hamilton?” one of the bolder girls called out, waving a pudgy little arm in the air.

Alex’s eyes flickered upwards briefly, “Need some help, Ruthie?”

“No, sir,” the little girl’s braids bounced as she shook her head, “Whatcha doing? You making a card too?”

Her question came with a dozen different interested little murmurs from the rest of the kids.

Alex actually blushed a little, another very unusual thing for him, “I, ah…I might be, sweetie.”

“Who’s it for?” little Julio asked, adding brightly, “Mine is for my dog!”

Alex gave him a crooked smile, though his blush got deeper, “That’s great buddy, I’m sure he’ll love it. Um…mine isn’t really for anyone, not in particular. I just thought I’d, ah, give it a go?”

Now, the children were young but not so young they couldn’t spot an obvious lie like that.

“Do you have a girlfriend, sir?” Ruthie pressed.

None of the children missed how their favourite teacher jumped a little at that question and was suddenly fidgeting, “No! No, I don’t! I…I don’t.”

“Do you have a boyfriend then?” little Yolanda asked, pushing her glasses back up her nose like she had to do about a thousand times a day.

“No, mija, I don’t have one of those either,” Alex answered a little more easily this time, very pleased they’d listened to him when he’d explained that their cards could be for boys or girls.

“Then why you making a card?” Ruthie still demanded, “If it’s not for anyone?”

Alex had to marvel at their tenacity but he was eager to steer the conversation somewhere else, “I’m not sure I really am making a card, apparently, arts and crafts isn’t my thing…”

He showed the students the evidence, a pretty pathetic looking piece of pink card with a wonky heart drawn on the front. Sure enough, he got a lot of little wrinkled noses in response and disapproving shakes of the head. Sometimes Alex found it hard to appreciate the honestly of small children.

“Sir, that’s not very good!” Julio told him plainly, “Don’t give that to anyone.”

“Well, I’m trying…and it isn’t for anyone, I told you!” Alex defended himself with a small smile, “I’m just not super creative like you guys are…”

“Oh, we’ll help you then!” Yolanda offered, her smile shy and sweet.

“Yes!” Ruthie jumped up onto the chair eagerly, no matter how many times Mr Hamilton begged her to be careful, “We’ll help you, sir!”

Twenty other little excited voices rose in a clamour until Alex was chuckling, holding up his hands in defeat and coming to join them at the craft table, pulling up a chair that was so small his knees almost came up to his ears when he sat on it.

“Alright, alright, I’ll let the experts show me how it’s done,” he smiled.

 The bell eventually rang for the end of the day, surprising them all. They’d all been having so much fun, they’d barely noticed the clock hands going by. There hadn’t been too many incidents, save half a tube of red glitter ending up in David’s lap, Jasmine insisting on sticking googly eyes on her own eyelids much to the amusement of everyone and a hair-raising moment when Mr Hamilton accidentally drank a mouthful of the water they’d been washing the brushes in rather than his coffee. But a card had been successfully made, the kind of very loud, very glitter covered, very…unusual Valentine’s day card that twenty kindergarteners and their teacher would put together. It could probably hang in the MoMA, Alex thought mildly, without raising too many eyebrows. The crudely drawn crayon dinosaurs could represent capitalism, the many googly eyes could mean government censorship…

Alex just hoped it would do the trick.

“Okay guys, that’s home time! Off you go…” he jumped up at the bell, steering all his little students towards the coat room, getting them as cleaned up as humanly possible, making sure nothing got left behind (he’d once had to drive to Yolanda’s house to return a much-treasured stuffed rabbit she’d left at school, knowing fine well she’d never be able to sleep without it). He did his usual thing of standing by the door and high fiving each one of them as they filed out and wishing them goodnight before the classroom door swung shut. There was always that one moment at the end of every day, where Alex would lean against the door and sigh tiredly but happily, knowing he’d successfully completed another day and relieved to have silence back in his life. Only for a moment though. Then he’d miss the kids.

He pulled the classroom together as best he could but it was inevitably going to be another day when the janitor was going to greet him with an exasperated look. No matter, he’d apologise profusely but for now, Alex had a job to do before he lost his nerve.

“No harm in trying,” he told himself firmly, looking at the pretty garish card in his hand before sighing and starting to stride down the hall.

 Alex probably made more visits to the nurse’s office than any other teacher, for several reasons. One being that his students were the youngest so inevitably ate more unusual objects without thinking, walked into more doors than others, tripped over tables more. Another was that Alex could maybe, possibly, potentially admit he was a bit overprotective when it came to his class, bundling them in his arms and taking them down to be seen to when maybe the need actually wasn’t too great?

But recently there had been another reason why Mr Hamilton seemed to be haunting the school’s little sick room, why he seemed to be making excuses to hang around there and knock on the door, why his playtime duty always seemed to take him down that particular corridor. A reason he hadn’t been able to admit to himself at first, only after his friends in the staff room had told him quite plainly that he needed to grow some balls, it could be seen from space, for God’s sake!

It was the same reason he was shaking with nerves as he pushed back the door, decorated with the little plate that read ‘Nurse E. Schuyler’ and flowers that she’d painted herself.

“Uh, Eliza?” he called out, hoping his voice didn’t shake, “Its me.”

Eliza swivelled round in her chair, her heart shaped face lighting up, “Alex! Hey!”

God, that smile could knock the breath out of him, Alex thought as he grinned and came in, leaning against the examination table with the card hidden behind his back, where it might stay depending on how his nerves held up.

He was a little gratified to see that Eliza had decorated for the holiday too, with strings of heart shaped bunting around her office and she was wearing a smaller string of them around her neck, even though they clashed with her pale blue flowery scrubs. Take that Mr Jefferson, it wasn’t just him being ‘a childish idiot’…

“So how was your day?” he asked, attempting a casual air, like he’d just dropped by for his usual chat. Like there was no potential awkwardness between them at all. Like last time they’d talked he absolutely, definitely hadn’t accidentally let slip about his huge crush on her while under the influence of pain meds she’d given him, after he’d accidentally stapled his hand…like he hadn’t passed out immediately after so he hadn’t been able to gauge her reaction…like he hadn’t also thrown up in front of her a bunch…

“Not too bad,” Eliza allowed, getting up and automatically going for two mugs to start making coffee, apparently on board with the ‘pretending that everything is all fine’ plan, “Poor Elliot had another asthma attack but he’s okay…Mr Madison got another nosebleed, scared the living daylights out of his fourth graders, he is okay, no matter what you hear from him…had lunch with Angelica and Peggy…so yeah, pretty good! One sugar or- wait,” her hand froze on the tin of coffee beans, she turned and eyed him suspiciously, “How many have you had today? Be honest?”

Alex grinned sheepishly and shrugged, “You got me. Sixteen.”

Eliza shook her head in mock despair, “Apple juice it is then…”

As mildly annoying as Eliza’s new ‘Mr Hamilton can only have fifteen coffees per day’ rule was, Alex would gladly have drunk anything if it meant he got to sit with her. And surely it showed she cared about him? That was a good sign, right?

“So how about you?” Eliza asked, eventually handing him a juice box. Her eyes travelled upwards to the little love hearts still merrily bouncing around on the springs on his headband, her grin getting brighter as she reached up and tweaked one, “You got into the spirit of things, I’m guessing?”

Alex went red, covering it up by taking a long pull on the straw, he’d forgotten he was wearing the damn thing still…

“Good!” he nodded, “Really good, the guys loved it…um…actually…while we’re on the subject, I have something for you?”

Now or never. Do or die.

Eliza blinked, tilting her head a little, “Oh?”

Alex bit his lip and nervously produced the card from behind his back, offering it out to her, “Happy Valentine’s day?”

Eliza’s jaw dropped a little at the sight of the card, still dripping glue and shedding craft feathers, but she had the grace to get over it quickly, showing nothing but delight, “Oh, Alex!”

“The, ah, the students helped me,” he confessed, her positive reaction encouraging him, “But I…I wrote the inside myself…”

He let her take it, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched her open it and read his careful handwriting.

Second date, you and me? Friday night, coffee after work? From, Alex

Eliza read the words a few times just to make sure that it said what she thought it said, her smile growing wider, willing herself not to giggle like a complete love struck idiot.

“Second?”

“Well,” Alex rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, “Seeing as the first was technically you driving me to the hospital to get a staple pulled out of my hand and to check I hadn’t given myself a concussion by passing out. Sorry about that by the way.”

“It’s no trouble,” Eliza laughed, her eyes bright and wide as they met his, “Second it is. I’d love to, Alex.”

The urge to whoop and punch the air was strong but Alex managed to resist. Just about.

“Great!” he jumped up, suddenly animated, like her yes had flooded him with energy, “We’ll go to that stand by the gates at central park, the one that you said does the right amount of cinnamon and then we can walk or we can sit or whatever, anything, whatever you want!”

Eliza watched him, grinning, “Sounds utterly perfect.”

On a complete impulse, seizing a whim, she leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips, brief but so sweet and so gentle, it froze him in place. She had to laugh a little at his expression when she pulled away, he looked like he’d been shell shocked.

“Don’t faint again,” Eliza implored, springing his deelyboppers again.

 Alex managed not to, he even managed to keep his feet for another kiss before they parted. He manged not too as he strode back to his classroom, feeling so light on his feet he wasn’t completely convinced he wasn’t floating.

He wasn’t sure if he should tell his students. He wanted to thank them for their help, after all, but if they knew that Mr Hamilton did in fact have a girlfriend and it was their beloved school nurse, Ms Schuyler, well, they’d have the wedding planned before playtime.

[emphasisminemovie]

Welcome to the Jung Howl

Yes, I am using a bad pun on a dying platform to promote a new film we’re going to shoot in black & white in, of all places, Leicester. Eh, I’m nothing if not whimsical.

And very likely stupid.

But let me tell you about the film anyway. It’s called (obviously) Emphasis Mine, and its script has been variously described by people I owe money to as “original”, “bonkers”, “intellectual” “funny and weird”, and “a very quirky, twisted, dark love story”. There are also a couple of good wanking jokes in there, only one of which is remotely intellectual, so there’s also that.

Anyway, the plan for this here Tumblr is for it to be a sort of production diary/never-ending begging letter. So here’s where we’re at.

The first thing I should tell you is that the film is very deliberately set in Leicester, in the East Midlands of England. Largely because all my stuff’s here, but also because it’s a place that always seems to be overlooked in filmmaking terms and I don’t really know why. Perhaps it’s because the city’s traditionally been seen as unfashionable, but as an immigrant myself (I’m Scottish) I don’t really get that. It’s a beautiful city, and the talent I’ve worked with here on both sides of the camera has been world-class. Even on my wee productions I’ve worked with people in demand in both TV and film, but they have to travel elsewhere to find “proper” work in the arts because there’s not enough being made in Leicestershire for them to earn a living in their chosen fields here. And I’d like to contribute to changing that, in my own small way, by filming in the city of Leicester using local cast and crew.

Anyway, to the Emphasis Mine pre-production process proper (ugh, alliteration): We’ve cast most of the main characters, and a mighty bunch of thespians they are too. All bar three of them live in the area, and one of those is from just up the road in Solihull, thus proving my point about the area. I’ll be posting about them individually in due course, but first a quick word about the three actors whom I wrote parts specifically for, and whom I believe it is obligatory to refer to as dear, dear friends.

First up, our lead boy, Job.

(NB - Job is pronounced in the Biblical sense rather than as in JobCentre. Unless you’ve been pronouncing JobCentre wrong all these years, in which case carry on, you’re doing the Lord’s work.)

Job is played by Kenton Hall. I wrote the part for him because I thought it would be both fun and challenging for him to play. I’ve known Kenton since 2004, toured the country in a band with him, was a groomsman at his wedding, and got into screenwriting through a course he ran a few years back. He played the eponymous Seeker in my first short film, I scored his first feature film, and he may have moved in with me once (we were both drinking a lot at the time so the details are a little hazy). In spite of all that, he’s someone whose friendship and opinions I hold in some regard, and I’m looking forward to starting this project with him on board as both actor and co-producer.

Karen Gordon plays Callie, Job’s boss in the film. I first met Karen when she let a door slam in my face at The Little Theatre here in Leicester. She did apologise profusely afterwards, though. I was at TLT that night to watch a rehearsal of a play being directed by a young actor I’d worked with, Edward Spence, and which happened to star the aforementioned Kenton. It turned out that the door-slammer was also in the play and by eff was she good. Edward told me later that he’d noted how my eyes lit up when Karen appeared on stage and how he knew I’d be casting the hell out of her as soon as humanly possible. He was not wrong; in fact, I cast her as his boss in a short film not long afterwards. Karen is a wonderful, natural actor, a supremely talented painter, and just an excellent human being altogether.

The third in this unholy triumvirate is Kieron Attwood, who plays Job’s housemate Ezekiel. Kieron and I first met when he auditioned for a part in my short film, Vandella Day. This audition consisted of meeting for a coffee to discuss the film. After an hour, we switched to beer in the pub next door. After another six hours, we were thrown out of that pub under the feeble excuse that it had shut an hour previously. We filmed Vandella Day a week or so later, and it went on to screen at thirty-five film festivals around the world, winning plaudits and awards along the way. Which isn’t bad for a 59-second film we shot in a shed in Loughborough for a laugh. Also we apparently invented a genre, the zomromcom. To date Kieron has appeared in two of my short films, his dialogue across both amounting to exactly one word. He has a lot more dialogue in Emphasis Mine, but at his insistence he will again be caked in blood.

I did write another part specifically for an actor friend, but she decided it was a much better bet to instead tour Europe in a minivan, solving crimes with a French boy and a dog called Pablo. Which does sound like fun, actually.

And that’s all for now, except to say please feel free to kick into our crowdfunding campaign to help make Emphasis Mine and to attempt to kickstart some kind of filmmaking industry hereabouts. There are many pretty rewards for contributors, which you can find here: https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/emphasis-mine-feature-film#/

Till next time,

Courtie.