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#Jade Tailor Gif Hunt
radicalrascals · 6 months
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[GIF Pack] Jade Tailor
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Following this link you’ll find 46 gifs (245x150) of Jade Tailor as Rachel in Aquarius (S1E4&E12) from 2015. Jade Tailor is an American actress and was 29 at the time of filming.
Please like and/or reblog if you plan on using these gifs. Do not claim as your own. Do not include in gif hunts. Thank you. Please check out my other roleplay gifs here.
Trigger-warnings: cigarettes
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sapphire-writes · 1 year
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Playing with Fire
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader x Aegon II Targaryen
summary: You travel to the capital, as Prince Aegon intends to take a wife at the command of the King. Much to your surprise, more than one Targaryen prince catches your eye.
warnings: none for this part other than some sensual themes
word count: 4k
A/N: as Katherine Pierce once said, "it's okay to love them both😏"
masterlist
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King Viserys announced a ball, to be held within the Red Keep, crafted for his eldest son Aegon to choose a bride. Maidens traveled from all corners of the seven kingdoms and beyond, to attend and vie for Prince Aegon’s affections. You were to be no exception, much to your displeasure. 
Your family had carted you off to the capital, though you put up quite a fight. You did not wish to marry yet, let alone marry Prince Aegon. You had heard nothing but promiscuous rumors about him from ladies returning from their times in the capital. 
Nearly all returned with a story about Prince Aegon; stealing to their rooms in the night or pulling them to darkened corridors only for them to leave with lips bruised from kissing and ruffled skirts. The prince was said to be quite lustful and gluttonous. 
You would listen, eyes wide, as they recalled their stories with blushing cheeks and girlish giggles. One lady even showed the lovebites Prince Aegon had adorned her neck with, pushing back her hair and revealing the purple bruises that had just begun to fade to a deep jade color. 
Prince Aegon was reminiscent of a wolf in your mind, or perhaps a dragon like that of his house sigil. An all-powerful creature who devoured whomever he desired. 
Alas, as the only daughter of your family, it was time for you to find a husband. A prince was too enticing of an offer for your family to keep you at home. You simply would have to avoid Prince Aegon and hope he would not take a liking to you. You figured it should be easy enough to do, he would surely be preoccupied with the dozens of ladies who had come for him.
Still, the night of the ball you found yourself clinging to the corners of the room. Your mother had traveled to the capital with you and was eager to present you to the dragon prince. She had a new gown tailored for you, the soft pink color of a rose from the Reach. Your hair was done in an elaborate style, with silver pins that shone like stars in the candlelight. You slouched into the crowd, spotting her looking for you. 
“Seven hells,” you murmured to yourself, ducking behind a servant carrying a tray of empty goblets. You can hear her voice above the music, calling your name. The serving girl gives you a startled look and you smile at her, apologetically.
You moved swiftly to avoid her, taking cover behind Cassandra Baratheon who is eagerly looking for Aegon. She glances down at you, blue eyes narrowing. She looks breathtakingly beautiful, clad in a sapphire-colored gown that matches her eyes, and makes her pale skin luminescent. Her dark hair is pulled back from her face, spilling down her back. Cassandra has come dressed the part of a princess. 
“What are you doing?” she asks, nose wrinkling. She waves the fan she holds, the fabric matching that of her gown. She barely acknowledges your presence, long neck craning over the crowd hunting for Prince Aegon. 
“Hiding,” you hiss, looking around nervously. Cassandra rolls her eyes folding her fan and whacking you with it on the arm. 
“Ouch!” you yelp, swatting at her. 
“Get away from me!” she scolds, “you shall make me look foolish!”
You make a face at the Baratheon, sticking out your tongue, before dashing to the opposite side of the room. You had briefly resided in Storm’s End when you were a child, as a ward to the Baratheons. Needless to say, you and Cassandra did not get along well. 
You heard your mother’s call once more and panicked, as the crowd began to part. Glancing to your left, you spotted a long table covered with food for grazing guests. The tablecloth was long and dusted against the floor. In your panic you dropped to your knees, and climbed under the table, fixing the tablecloth behind you. 
You exhaled a deep breath as you pushed yourself back, sitting completely under the table. You could hear the crowd around you, but you were hidden. Well, almost. In your haste your slipper had come off, and it lay sticking halfway out from under the table. 
Your eyes widened as you reached for it before it was pulled from your sight. Lifting the table cloth you stuck your head out to address the thief. 
Prince Aemond stood inspecting your slipper, brows furrowed in confusion. He looked very regal, in an outfit such a deep, rich green it almost appeared black. Gold trimmed the cuffs of his sleeves, and down the front of his shirt. You were admiring him until his violet eye met yours.
You had heard of the accident that happened to Aemond when he was a boy but you had never met him. A deep scar marred half his face before disappearing underneath an eyepatch and reappearing through his brow. Aemond’s face twisted in confusion as he looked down at you. 
“What are you doing, my lady?” he asked, voice stiff but polite. He spoke as though he could not be bothered by your foolishness. 
“Please, my prince,” you said in a hushed whisper, reaching for your shoe. Aemond did not move, still perplexed. You could hear your mother’s voice, as she chatted, followed by Cassandra Baratheon’s irritating call. 
“Why are you under- ooof!” 
Aemond was not someone who was easily surprised. But surprise him you did. Without thinking you slammed your hand into the hard muscles of his stomach, grabbing his shirt. The prince doubled over and you pulled him under the table with you. 
Aemond looked at you incredulously, shocked that he was overpowered by a maiden.
“I do apologize, my prince,” you said in earnest, hoping he would spare you his fury. You wore a desperate expression on your face, your eyes pleading. People had lost their hands entirely for putting them upon royalty, and you were rather fond of your extremities. You continue to stare at him, eyes wide, as you are crouched on your knees. 
Aemond had no idea who you were, other than some noble lady. His lips parted as he watched you, his hand still holding your slipper. Your eyes dropped to it. 
“May I have my shoe?” you asked, and Aemond jerked his head in a nod, but did not return your slipper. He felt very confused with the entirety of the situation. Aemond was not used to such tomfoolery. 
“My lady,” he began, “why are you hiding under a table?”
You wet your lips, eyes still nervous. You swallow before answering, still nervous that the prince may drag you by your hair to the nearest black cell. 
“I am hiding.”
“That is obvious,” he said, the corners of his mouth turning upwards, “from whom?”
“My mother,” you say, flinching as a shadow moves past, “she wishes to introduce me to Prince Aegon.”
Aemond hums, tucking a knee towards his chest and resting his arm atop it. He does not need further explanation. His eye roams over your form, over the dress you wear, and the layer of sweat that coats your forehead and throat from your antics. Your hairstyle is disheveled, several pins seem to be out of place, but the ones that remain sparkle in the light that sneaks through the tablecloth. 
You meet his eye and feel your cheeks turn red at his attention. He is devilishly handsome, with his silky, long silver hair and purple eye that seems to peer into your soul. The eyepatch and scar only make him seem more dangerous, causing your palms to sweat nervously. 
“I apologize, it was rather rude to involve you,” you tell him, glancing towards the floor.
Aemond chuckles, the sound coming from deep in his chest. You smile weakly at the sound, having not expected it. 
“This is the most interesting thing that has occurred all evening,” he assures you, “unless, of course, you count Lady Tyrell’s gown mishap.”
He watches your eyes widen and mouth open at his shared gossip. Aemond smiles, happy to have engaged you. He watches as the nervousness begins to fall from your face, and your shoulders relax. 
“What happened?” you ask, brows lifting in curiosity. 
“One of her sleeves caught on Lord Manderly’s broach, and tore,” he tells you, watching you cover your mouth to stifle your giggles. 
“Disasterous indeed,” you snicker and Aemond feels his lips tug into a smile. You laugh once more at the thought. A moment goes by, the pair of you sitting in silence. 
“You are free to leave my prince,” you tell him, “I do not mean to hold you, hostage.” 
“It is quite alight,” he says, earnestly, “I am enjoying the distraction.”
Aemond found this whole affair a slap in the face. Aegon was not interested in marriage, nor was he suited for it. He would rather indulge with any lady, servant, or whore he could get his hands on. 
Yet their father insisted on this spectacle for Aegon to take a wife. If he did fail to do so, Aemond knew the small council was plotting for Aegon to marry their sister Helaena. Aemond did not know which plan he hated more. 
A hand reached the edge of the tablecloth and your mother’s face became visible. Behind her stood a smirking Cassandra Baratheon. 
“Y/N,” your mother hissed, pulling you from under the table. Embarrassment was evident in her voice and you hung your head as she scolded you. 
“There, I told you Lady (Y/L/N),” Cassandra said, in a nasally voice. You scowled at her, as her face twisted in confusion as Aemond exited the table behind you. He stands holding his arms crossed behind his back. You did not realize how tall he was, he towers above you. 
“She behaves like a child,” Cassandra snaps, a shrewd smile on her lips. 
“You are a horrible cow, Cass,” you hiss at her, causing her to sneer. The look fades as she takes in Prince Aemond behind you and she bats her lashes, fanning herself. 
“Oh, my,” your mother said, looking towards Prince Aemond, “your grace.”
She begins to curtsey but Aemond waves her off.
“No need, my lady,” he told her, offering you both a smile, “I was just delighted by your daughter’s company.” Aemond holds your slipper out to show your mother. You glance towards the floor, your bare foot hidden under your skirts. 
“The lady simply lost her slipper, it rolled under the table you see,” he lies to your mother, who nods at his words. A starstruck expression is plastered on her face as she gazes up at the handsome prince. A dreamy smile plays on her mouth. 
You purse your lips, fighting a smile that threatened to appear. Aemond turned to you then, violet eye gleaming, as though acknowledging the secret he kept for you.  
“May I?” he asked, gesturing towards your foot. You nodded and he knelt before you. Aemond curled his hand around your ankle, lifting your foot from the floor and helping you inside your slipper. 
“There,” he said, looking up at you, “no harm done.”
You hear Cassandra scoff behind you, but your mother looks pleased. 
“Thank you, my prince,” you tell Aemond, as he stands. You feel fluttering in your stomach as he holds your gaze. Your ankle tingles where his hand has been.
“I do hope we run into each other again, during your stay in the capital,” he tells you.
“I should like that, very much, my prince.”
“Aemond,” he insists. 
“Aemond,” you say, enjoying the sound of his name on your tongue, with no titles attached. You smile tentatively as his name lingers in the space between you. 
Aemond bids your mother farewell and departs toward the other side of the room. Your mother locks her hand around your arm. 
“That is not the prince we came for,” she scolds, but you can tell Aemond still has her flustered. Her face is flushed, as though she is remembering her youth. She fans herself with a gloved hand. 
“You are blushing, mother,” you tease and she shoos you away, “where is Prince Aegon then?”
You glance around the room, and the only other silver-crowned head you spot is that of Princess Helaena who is engaged in a dance with her grandsire. Your mother instructed you earlier to befriend the princess, something she would surely remind you to do on the morrow as well. 
“You are too late,” Cassandra calls, fanning herself once more. You roll your eyes at her eavesdropping. Ever the nosy gossip, Cassandra is. 
“The prince has left for the night. I assume he found someone to entertain him,” Cassandra says, feigning that this does not bother her. You see through her though; Cassandra believes she is already married to Aegon in her mind. 
You flush at her words. Targaryens seem to have insatiable appetites. You bring your gaze back to your mother who frowns. 
“Do you hear how she talks of him?” you ask, “do you truly wish a man like that for me?”
Your mother scoffs at your concerns. 
“He would give you a dozen children then, several grandchildren for me,” she says, patting your arm. Your eyes widen in horror at the thought. Your mother has no qualms with you marrying a lecherous man, then. She sees your expression and gives you a look of a mother’s aggravation. 
“Do not look at me like that,” she tells you, “you need not be scared of the marriage bed.”
“Easy for you to say,” you tell her, sighing, “you are not a maiden.”
“I was once,” she says, tone hardening, “when the time is right, I shall tell you all you need know. It need not be frightening.” 
You remember the bruises on the lady’s neck and know your mother must be lying to you. How could they be born of something pleasurable? 
“May I go to bed, now that the prince is gone?” you ask and your mother sighs, before shaking her head. 
“I have been without your company all evening, you shall stay a while longer.”
You stay much longer than you intend, getting lost in gossip with your mother and other lords and ladies of court. You are even able to introduce yourself to Princess Helaena, who captures your attention with her latest fascination with an insect found on the islands of the Jade Sea. She had been reading about it, and her eyes lit up when talking about it.  
The hour is late when your mother leaves you to retire to the guest chambers you share. You linger behind to hear Lord Beesbury finish a tale. You find yourself wandering the Red Keep, searching for your chambers. 
You pass by several goldcloaks who murmur to you, politely. You yawn, as you turn a corner, walking down a corridor lit by recently revived torches. The servants of the Keep must have been told to refresh them with all the late running festivities. 
A noise catches your attention; the squeaking hinge of a door being opened followed by a giggle. The shape of a lady appears, her green dress sparkling in the light. She has red hair, and you recognize her but cannot recall her name. Your eyes widen as she smiles, hand outstretched behind her, holding onto someone. 
She pulls her partner towards her, and your eyes nearly pop out of your skull. The silver hair is unmistakable. His hair is shorter than his brother, though he wears a similar outfit to that of Aemond. His shirt is untucked and you notice the laces of the lady’s corset are loose, as though restrung in haste. Prince Aegon grins as he reaches to cup the lady’s cheeks, covering her lips in a passionate kiss. 
You stand frozen and unnoticed by the pair, entranced by their embrace. The lady makes a whimpering noise as Aegon’s hand slips down her throat, the other holding her waist against him. He removes his lips from hers, only to bring them to the side of her throat. Your lips part as you watch him kiss her neck as though it were her lips. The lady seems to enjoy this, tangling her hands in his short locks.
You are so hypnotized by Aegon’s actions, you don’t notice when the lady’s eyes open to a half-lidded stare. Her eyes widen as notices you observing them. The lady shrieks, pushing Aegon away from her. 
“What?” he grumbles, as the lady smoothes her skirt, fleeing the scene with a reddened face. Aegon watches as she rushes by you, his violet eyes meeting yours. 
Your eyes are wide, lips parted in shock, and you feel as though your feet are rooted to where you stand. Though your mind is telling you to run away, following the fleeing lady, you stare at the prince. Aegon stands shorter than his brother, his shoulders slouched in a carefree manner. His hair is wavy, the strands ending near his jaw. Like his brother, he is painfully handsome. A curse all Targaryens seem to bear. 
Aegon wets his lips, which are a shining feature of his face. Reddened and plumped from kissing, begging to be kissed again. It is as though the gods molded them for kissing and kissing alone. Aegon’s mouth opens, and his brows come together, as he takes a lazy step toward you. 
“I do not know you,” he says, his lips downturned into a pout. You swallow hard.
“I am Lady Y/N, my prince,” you tell him, clasping your hands in front of you, trying to stop them from fiddling nervously. 
“Lady Y/N,” he says your name slowly, as though tasting it. “I did not see you at the ball.”
“I was there, my prince,” you tell him, knowing your efforts of avoiding him were in vain, “it appears I did not make an impression.”
His lips turn into a smile, revealing a row of shiny white teeth. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip drawing your eyes toward his mouth.
“I should bid you goodnight, my prince,” you say urgently, turning to leave. 
“Wait!” he calls, a quickens his steps until coming to face you. 
His eyes narrow, a smile still playing on his face.
“How did I not see you?” he asks, “I always remember a pretty face.”
You feel your face flush. No matter how much he frightens you, flirtation with a prince is not something you are used to. 
“I do not know, my prince,” you tell him, flustered by his compliment. 
He sinks his teeth into his lower lip as though enjoying how you squirm beneath his gaze. 
“Come have a drink with me,” he offers, “and we can review your evening, and why we did not make each other’s acquaintance.”
Insatiable indeed. The prince was just with a maiden, and yet here he stands, planning his next course. He holds out a hand to you, a glimmer of mischief in his eye. You can picture the ladies who stood in your shoes before you, who said yes to him. Who indulged him in the pleasures of the known world. You could do so too if you so desired. His voice is inviting, a sensual caress. 
“May I speak freely, my prince?” you ask and he nods, curiously.
“I am quite frightened.”
Aegon’s head snaps back at that. 
“Frightened?” 
You nod. 
He takes a step back from you, hands held out in surrender. 
“There is no need to be frightened, my lady,” he tells you, “I wish you no harm, only the pleasure of your company.”
Your breath comes out shakily. 
“I do not wish you to bed me,” you tell him, rushing out the words, “I do not wish you to take my maidenhead.”
Aegon’s eyes go wide as saucers and he releases a laugh, before shushing you. 
“My lady, we are in a corridor,” he says, looking around as though you’ve made a foolish assumption. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish. 
“I have heard stories,” you tell him and he frowns, though there is amusement in his eyes. 
“Oh, you have?” 
“Yes,” you say, growing annoyed with him, “that you lure helpless maidens into your bed, OR any place that suits you.” You gesture to the corridor you stand in. A bed, a wall, probably on dragonback. It likely did not matter.
Aegon laughs again, a pink blush dusting his cheeks. No one has spoken to him of his reputation so directly before, outside of the members of his family. 
“How lustful of me,” he says, a grin stretching from ear to ear, “you paint me as such a wanton creature Lady Y/N.”
You raise your brows. Aegon stands before you, unashamed. It must be so easy for a prince, to be a man in this world. He is so relaxed with the conversation about his promiscuity. 
“You just had a lady in your company,” you accuse, “and now you look at me like that?”
“Like what?” he asks, leaning against the stone wall, as though the conversation was entirely natural to him. You laugh, breaking his gaze, before looking at him once more. He raises a brow, eyes still half lidded, intrigued. 
“As though you are a man starving, who has happened upon a feast,” you say, laughing at the ridiculousness of it gesturing to the space between you.  
Aegon gives you a once-over with his eyes before answering. A tingle rolls down your spine as his eyes take in every inch of you. You feel naked under his gaze. 
“Perhaps I am famished,” he tells you, and your entire body feels like it is on fire. He is very good at this, and you suddenly realize what makes women want to crawl into bed with him. If this is anything like what pleasure awaits the marriage bed, perhaps your mother was right. 
Aegon wets his lips when you do not answer, tilting his head against the wall, and exposing his neck to you. You watch the apple of his throat bob up and down and have a sudden urge to place a kiss on it. You roll your shoulders back, steadying yourself.
“Yes well,” you stutter, trying to find words, “perhaps there are leftovers from the feast.”
“Are you in the capital long?’ he asks suddenly changing the subject. You blink, the room suddenly seeming uncomfortably warm. 
“Yes, my prince, at least-”
“Good,” he interrupts, pushing off the wall and walking towards you. He comes to stand face to face with you, so close you can feel the heat radiating from his body, smell the sweet wine on his breath from the feast and something else; something rich and smoky that makes you want to bury your face in his chest and inhale. 
“I shall have that drink with you,” he says, eyes locked on yours until the final word he speaks. Only then does he drop his eyes to your parted lips, before bringing them back to your eyes. He flashes you a smile, before continuing his leave in the direction you came. 
“Goodnight, Y/N,” he calls and you turn, confused by his exit. There was something in the air between you that promised something more. The tension gnawing at you. Aegon has begun walking backward slowly, so he could face you, a smirk on his lips, as he takes in your expression. You feel your thoughts are not safe around him. 
“Goodnight, my prince,” you manage to choke out, head spinning from the interaction. 
“Aegon,” he insists.
“Aegon,” you repeat and he tilts his head back, as though enjoying hearing you speak his name. 
Then he turns on his heel and is gone. 
When you finally make it to your chambers, the sky has begun to lighten with the promise of imminent sunrise. You lay in bed, thoughts racing and heart pounding. Your dreams are restless, filled with dragon princes with silver hair and lavender eyes.
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the-wild-ego · 1 year
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Little Darling - Part Two
Requested: No.
Fandom: Jacksepticeye
Paring: Reader/Antisepticeye
Pronouns: They/Them
Warnings: Cursing, Violence, Drugs, Gangs, Guns, Fake Blood
A/N: Keep in mind that this is fanfiction. It’s an A/U of a place I like to call ‘The Underground’. If you have any questions let me know. This is only part two, part one can be found here.. Enjoy! 
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One Hour After Birdy's ‘Death’ 
“It’s been an hour and forty-five (45) minutes, where are they?” A growled as he paced in the back room of the empty bar. The woman, Agonia, remained leaning against the bar. She was busy reading a book that she had with her. When he went unanswered, he slammed back another shot of bourbon. 
"Easy there buddy, if we have to hunt down Birdy, then you'll need to be sober." Agonia scoffed, sipping her virgin martini- she was one for the looks rather than the feel of alcohol. If anything, the taste of alcohol brought up unwanted memories for her. Though she enjoyed a good vodka cranberry during her torturing sessions. 
"Quiet." came a gruff voice from the back. Their leader, a 5'8 male who didn't look like much- but was notorious for his brains. He created most of the drugs within the underground. His most popular was a variation of some kind of psychedelic made from mushrooms you could find up top. And of course his most popular drug up top was his pure, uncut cocaine. The cocoa trees down here provided darker, more bitter tastes, since their sunlight was limited. And their product was stronger. 
"Gear," a nickname that derived from his machine-like brain, "Birdy hasn't returned and our men lost sight of them after they stepped into that Serpent's brothel." 
"I've heard you two bickering about it for the last twenty minutes, I said be quiet." Gear huffed out, sliding his coat over his arms. It seemed as though he planned to look for them himself, but that wasn't the case, "Agonia, A, I am going to meet with Dark. There were reported shots at one of the Serpent's brothels. If what's suspected turns out to be true, we'll need to strengthen our ties with the Spiders." 
"Don't tell me the Serpents took out our Birdy?" Agonia groaned, marking her place in her book and moving to stand with her leader. Gear shrugged, knowing just as much as the other two did. 
"Maybe they ran off with the money." Apocalypse grinned, pulling his jacket on as well. The jacket was dark brown leather with the gang logo on the back. Every member had one, which included the gang's name and the head of a Dire wolf on the back. The color of the eyes determined ranking. Red was for the leader. Black for the second and third in command. Brown eyes for the fighters. Blue eyes for the smugglers. Green for the rest of the crew. Every tailor in the underground knew better than to recreate any one of the gang's insignias without explicit permission. 
"Let's not get too hasty," Gear hissed out, checking his .40 S&W before stuffing it down the band of his pants. "If it's true that they ran off with the money, then I want them back here alive so that I can pry the confession out of them myself." 
Apocalypse nodded, the look in his eye begging for blood to splatter from his hands. That's why Gear liked A so much. The man was crazy, crazy enough to kill and deal without question. That's what you get when you grow up in a kill or be killed world. 
The sun peeked through holes in the Underground, what little sunlight was had, had been fought for. The victors basked in the sunlight whilst the losers went to lick their wounds. It truly was a kill or be killed world down here, where only the toughest come out on top. 
Dark's part of the Underground was much nicer, to say the least. Closer to the Topside, where Dark had control of the merchants that came through. The Spider Bandits traded with the slimier of the merchants, information and stolen goods for weaponry and drugs. Cocaine was the biggest seller on Topside right now, which is why Gear was so jaded that he had lost his product and his money. 
Agonia was the first to approach the door. She was usually the informant that Gear sent out to do the dealings, A was too reckless and Gear simply did not have the time to do deal with the lessers from other gangs. Gear only came out to play when there was something to be won from a deal, otherwise his lackeys did the harder work. 
One knock. Two. Thre- the door opened to a young man in a khaki jacket, both eyes were covered with a bandage that wrapped around his head. Don't let this fool you, he was one of Dark's most trusted, they were brothers after all. Host's inability to see let him smell and hear liars from a mile away, having lived in the Underground he trained his hearing to pick up on the most subtle of noises- including heartbeats. He took a deep breath and a brow rose from beneath his bandages, "To what do I owe this pleasure, Agonia? The boss isn't looking to see anyone right now." 
"Yeah, good to see you too, Host… Tell your boss that something has happened and we need to know if he has any information." Agonia smirked, knowing that would pique his interest. Host hummed softly, closing the door in her face. Before A could say anything, Agonia held up a hand, silencing him. Only a few moments passed before the door opened once more, this time wide enough for the three of them to walk in. 
The house Dark resided in, was a house big enough to contain all of the upper members of the Spider Bandits. A feat that could only be accomplished by building into an unstable wall of dirt and stone. The front portion of the house was visible to outsiders, while the house inside the wall stretched on, for what seemed like forever. Tall ceilings on each level of the house, two-stories, six rooms to each floor. The walls were red, to hide the bloodstains-- or that's what you'd been told a long time ago when you had visited Dark's mansion on a job. The representative, Wilford, said he was ‘too exhausted’ after ‘such a loooong day’. 
A small entryway gave way to a large foyer, a grand staircase curved its way up to the second floor. To the left of the staircase was the kitchen, where something with rosemary and lemon had been cooked, as well as the bathroom and another room used for training. To the right of the staircase were the other three rooms, members residing in their respective locations. Those weren't important to the three headed up the staircase. They wanted the conference room, a place that anyone that was anyone had been in a time or two. After all, Dark was the most powerful in the Underground. When asked about his success, he would laugh and state that 'knowledge is power'. 
"Gear, Apocalypse, Agonia," Dark greeted, appearing at the top of the staircase a vodka martini, with a twist, in hand. The theatrics that some leaders would put on, for show, "To what do I owe this pleasure?" 
"Let's wait until we get somewhere more… private." Gear responded in a soft hiss, his anger having grown since walking over. 
"But of course." Dark smiled, gesturing with his free hand and dipping into a mock bow. The hallway seemed to stretch on forever, but that was nothing compared to the architectural vastness of the conference room. Despite its innocent and kempt appearance this was some of the nastiest men, women, and others had met to discuss the darkest things you could think of. Dark didn't get his success from handing out roses, after all. 
Once the door clicked shut and everyone was seated, Gear and Dark at the head of the table. A sat to Gear's right and Agonia to Gear's left, "Right then," Gear started, fixing the sleeves of his jacket, "Let's get down to business." 
- - -
Just After Birdy's Death
Zombie was the first one to enter the room after the shots rang out, the scene before him nearly made him lose the lunch in his stomach. Anti sat with your head in his lap, careful not to get blood on him. The man had stumbled to catch you before you fell, but hadn't been successful because of the amount of blood you had on you. For a split second, it looked as though you had really been shot. 
"Boss?" Zombie questioned softly as DeadShot pushed past him into the room. Zombie approached his leader and crouched next to the man. Anti looked to be in shock, his fingers gently running through your hair. Maybe it had been too real for him, and now, before Anti could even check to make sure that you'd be okay, you needed to be whisked away to safety. 
"Some of the call girls are already spreading the information, Anti, we've got to get moving." DeadShot stated, always Anti's voice of reason. Those words were enough to have Anti getting up, resting your head gently on the ground and stepping back. 
"Right," Anti's voice sounded rough, like he had been holding back tears before the boys arrived. However his face was void of any emotions at all. Turning his attention to Zombie, he asked "Did you bring it?" 
"Yes, of course." Zombie nodded, tossing his duffle bag down on the ground. He rummaged through it for a second before pulling out two thin, pale, sheets. The Serpents needed to look sloppy, like they were struggling to cover up that they killed Birdy. 
Zombie was gentle with you, under the watchful gaze of his superior. He laid the thin sheets out on top of eachother, picking you up slowly before placing you down on the sheets. Your 'blood' was already soaking through the sheets as Zombie wrapped you up. He left the sheets loose around your head, so you wouldn't panic too much if you woke up. 
"Good. Take her to the car." Anti had bought one just for this purpose. Cars and phones weren't a thing in the Underground and only the elite could afford them, though phones were useless down here. 
Zombie nodded, lifting your body once more, giving a soft grunt as your bodyweight shifted over his almost healed hand. He moved quickly, ignoring the gasps and scattering patrons, right out the back door where the sleek black car was waiting. He placed you down in the back seat and moved the sheets down to just below your nose, so you could breathe. 
Up in the room DeadShot and Anti were cleaning the extra blood up and the blanks as well. To make this room spotless, for show. Though no crime had occurred, they had to cover up just like there had been. Which is why they put all of the duffle bags into the back of the car. They had to make it seem like Anti killed Birdy to keep his money and the drugs. It was all part of a plan. Anti just hoped that the plan wasn't for naught. 
As the trunk of the car was shut, Anti caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He whirled, drawing his gun and aiming it at the... kid. A boy, no more than ten years old. Anti lowered the gun, seeing the fear in the boy's eyes, and the piss running down his legs, "Get out of here, boy, and forget everything that you just saw." 
The boy nodded, but both of them knew that the boy wouldn't just 'forget', how could Anti expect him to. Everything that the boy saw would fetch him a nice price with the Spiders. How could Anti deny the boy something as simple as enough money to eat on and a shower. Something that everyone in the Underground deserved. That's part of what this war was about, he wanted to fight for more territory, to offer the people of the Underground a fair chance at life. Something that he and his brothers had never seen before. 
Zombie took the passenger seat, allowing DeadShot to drive. Only Anti and DeadShot had seen the inside of a car, Zombie was simply just amazed at how they purred. Still, now was not the time to lament over the 'coolness' of a car. Zombie understood that, his head lifting to look at your body through the rearview mirror. How could someone he watched for weeks, someone so full of life, look so… dead. Surely this wasn't right, there must've been another way to keep you alive. You had a life down here, friends that will mourn your death, loved ones that would go aloof without your presence. 
"Zombie, did you hear me?!" Anti's shout startled the teen from his thoughts. Zombie looked to Anti, his leader looked pale, like he might be getting sick. Zombie knew better than to comment on this, "I said once you're up Top, don't leave their side until you know they're safe… please." 
The softness of Anti's voice had startled Zombie, the lack of hope in his voice. Anti knew that this war would cost him his life, and many of the Serpent's would die… but this way, now it made sense, Birdy was too important to him for them to continue to live in the Underground… and if anyone ever found out. 
"Of course, Boss." Zombie nodded, and the two men slapped palms twice before DeadShot climbed into the car and they were off. 
- - -
Timothy 'Tiny Box(er) Tim' Iplier
The little boy with the light blue eyes and fluffy brown hair crouched behind a crate in the back alleyway. He was little, even for only being ten years old, but he was smart and fast. The way he could bob and weave in the ring, it seemed like he had the fastest footwork in the Underground. He had to be smart and fast, though. His father was dead and his uncles were notorious Spiders. 
These skills of his made him the perfect spy for the Spider Family. He was their pet fly on the wall, and Timothy understood well enough. He knew that Spiders liked to eat flies, and that they would gobble him up at any moment if he were to lead them astray. And this is how he ended up crouched behind ‘The Serpent Den’, a notorious brothel in the Serpent’s Districts. Dark had wanted him to keep an eye on Birdy for a little while, one of the members of the Jaded Serpents was seen following them last week. He wasn’t there for too long when a sleek black car roared into the alleyway, Timothy only knew one other person that had one down here, and that was Dark. Said Serpent appeared as if on queue, along with two others he hadn’t seen before. The Serpent was carrying a body, that was certain, especially due to the mysterious red stain that was still bleeding through the sheets. 
“They shot Birdy.” Timothy whispered to himself, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Even more so when one of the unidentified Serpents turned his head in Timothy’s direction. Acting fast, Timothy moved to run, but the snake struck quicker. Frozen in fear, Timothy couldn’t help when the piss trickled down his leg. 
"Get out of here, boy, and forget everything that you just saw." the man said, embarrassed at being caught, and then urinating on himself, Timothy could only nod before running off. 
He went straight to Dark, after changing of course. The King of the Spiders was very pleased with this snippet of information. Not only had Birdy been killed, but the Wolves had lost two very valuable resources. And who was the culprit, none other than the King Cobra himself.
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adeolaaao · 28 days
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Final Report by Adeola :)
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As I reflect on the how beneficial and valuable the marketing seminars have been over the course of the weeks, I can’t help but firstly express my utmost gratitude to all the speakers who have graced the class with their abundance and wealth of knowledge.
Blair Roebuck’s insightful presentation about the relationship between unifying business and technology was one of the presentations that resonated with me in particular. Her explanation on the importance of analytics and data in driving business decisions helped shed light on the incredibly amazing synergy that exists between those two fields of industry. She also went on to highlight the important role that they both play in modern marketing tactics.
In addition to presentations that left a lasting impression on me, Aadhar Mehta’s and Sophie Cugliari’s presentations about the process of job hunting gives a first-hand account on the difficulties of the job market. They both provided us with important insights and knowledge that we may put into practice whilst job searching in order to secure jobs in our preferred industry.
They both placed a heavy emphasis on networking and making use of sites such as LinkedIn which I found especially noteworthy. In fact, their advice to include a photo of oneself smiling in their LinkedIn profile picture may appear to be insignificant but actually has potential to generate a positive first impression on prospective employers. That I found very interesting, and thought it was very sound advice.
Furthermore, the explanation Lia Grimberg provided during her presentation on customer loyalty and the utilisation of data gave light and understanding to the multifaceted dynamics of consumer behaviour, brand loyalty and industry trends. Her insights into the significance of data-driven strategies in building brand loyalty and competitiveness by companies in the market was also brought to light. This includes the importance of making informed decisions based on real data and then using it to personalise interactions with the target market based in individual preference. This in return will ultimately give the company a competitive advantage over its competitors.
The knowledge I gained from the presentations given has influenced my perspective on prospective career paths in the fields of marketing and film production. I have begun to understand the mutually beneficial relationship that exists between business, technology, and data analytics and how they can open doors to a wide variety of opportunities. This can help a business in identifying opportunities in terms of innovation to enhance customer experience and tailor products, services, and marketing efforts towards the customer’s preference.
Moreover, the emphasis placed on networking and the usage of online platforms to develop oneself professionally has provided me with the crucial tools necessary to navigate the job market with confidence and efficiency.
Throughout the course of this semester, I have come to realise the importance of establishing and maintaining professional relationships and networks. Despite the fact that I have not had the chance to personally network with any of the presentation speakers, I have actively built relationships and connected with my fellow course mates, recognising and acknowledging the valuable insights they provide.
I have had the chance to attend one networking event with my sister who works for AON, and although I did not have the opportunity to directly network with any of the professionals, it provided me with a one-of-a-kind experience and allowed me venture outside of my comfort zone.
LinkedIn has proven itself to be a valuable networking tool for me as it allowed me to recognise the opportunity to follow Jade Walters, who is a social media marketing and campus recruiting professional with expertise in social media creation, management and brand marketing.
She has amassed a following of over 45,000 followers and 500+ connections on LinkedIn. In addition to that, she runs a career resources blog called The Ninth Semester. This blog helps people who are looking for internship or entry-level roles by sharing tips, advice, and career opportunities.
I have taken advantage of the platform’s features to follow and engage with her posts. This is how I came across a post of hers in which I commented on to show my interest and ensure that I was added to her mailing list in which she shares various job opportunities in my field, which has helped me expand my job search.
Despite the fact that I am still looking for co-op employment, networking has helped me become more confident and has helped me broaden my horizons in terms of taking advantage of the several different opportunities at my disposal and exploring them.
During the course of my job search, I have found that the networking tips and best practices that I have gathered along the way have proven really helpful. For example, I have learned that it is important to maintain connections and to make use of online platforms for my benefit and for my professional growth.
To summarise, my experience throughout this course has not only enriched and expanded my knowledge and skill set, but it has also provided me with the ability to confidently cultivate and navigate the complexities of the job market. As I move forward with my pursuit of opportunities in marketing and film production, I am thankful for the valuable lessons I have acquired and I am enthusiastic about the endless possibilities that the future has in store for me.
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elyyxium · 2 years
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— Click the  ⋆˚ source link ˚⋆ for 389 gifs of Jade Tailor as Angela in Sinfidelity. All gifs were made by me and intended for RP purposes only. Please do not repost in gif hunts or claim as your own. Please give proper credit if using in crackships. As always, please like and/or reblog if using.
CW: Drinking, Kissing, Intimidation
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osvaldrps-archived · 4 years
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jade tailor in the magicians  //  by clicking the link  [ HERE ]  you will find #75 gifs, all made by me from scratch. you can use/edit them to your liking, just credit me where credit's due. and please reblog the post if you find these helpful.
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