#jacobmasters

[kushfilmsonline]

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#Repost @charles_venn ‘Pain becomes a friend’.. Catch @bbccasualtyofficial this Saturday(4/9/21) 21:30pm on @bbcone 🤲🏾💙 #jacobmasters #charlesvenn @adele_jjames https://www.instagram.com/p/CTZx0UPo4OX/?utm_medium=tumblr

[holbyftcasualty]

"I nearly lost her Fletch" The fallout continues on Holby City tonight.

[holbyftcasualty]

JACOB MASTERS WANTS TO MARRY CONNIE BEAUCHAMP (but this is before he finds out Connie and Grace have been in an horrendous RTC, NO WHY CASUALTY, why)

[i-do-recognise-the-symptoms]

DO NOT FREAK OUT NEXT WEEK MUST BE THE WEEK…LOOK AT THE CLOTHES😍😍😍😍😍 Top photo: Autumn Trailer Bottom photo: Next week

[medicaldramageek]

You owe me - Connie and Jacob

Bit of CJ smut -UPDATED- **Part 1** She couldn’t explain it, not really, she looked at him from across the table, wine glasses and a bottle separating them, her lips twitching in to a smile. All she knew is that butterflies were cascading around her stomach, of course she but it down to being hungry, of course.. And the reason they were sat her today, was the fact he’d coaxed her into a drink and meal, offering to pay. I mean what more could a woman want, wined and dined. Mid-shift, yes mid-shift, when normally Connie would be catching up with paper work she was in a little restaurant with the newbie nurse on the outskirts of Holby amid a day dream. Clearly. "Connie” Jacob spoke waving a hand across her face as way to snap her out it. She blinked giving him eye contact. Clearing her throat.
"Mrs Beauchamp" she reminded him sharply, maybe more so than she intended. He smirked and lent back.
“Surely not, were not in the work place” Picking up his glass he took a big gulp. The wine made him pull a face, he didn’t usually go for wine, but whatever the lady wanted … He had to look like the curtious one and drink it as well, didn't he? Connie rolled her eyes at his cheekiness, deciding not to comment he knew exactly where he stood with her, picking up a forkful of food, holding it mid air . "Remember, your back on shift in… 15 minutes, I don’t want you falling over the place, watch your intake” she put the forkful of food in her mouth. “Yes officer, anyway I’d only want to fall for you anyway” he let out small laugh. Connie smirked trying not to laugh, honestly having to laugh would mean not crying, at his ridiculous pick up lines. “Really Jacob, really” she raised an eye brow at him. Jacob leant forward. 
“Oh and there was me thinking you’d want me after that, shame really…” “I think you’d better get the bill” Connie drained her glass. Jacob clicked his fingers and a waiter came over. “Yes sir” “Sir" Connie muttered under her breath sarcastically, smirking all the while. "Um, yes , this very beautiful woman would like to pay please” Connie shot him a playful glare . “I’m not paying” “Well I guess this meal has been free then” 
Jacob glided his chair back and stood up, grabbing his coat he headed for the door. “Jacob! I’d appriciate if you came and sat back down” She shook her head, not impressed. Jacob turned to Connie, and looked at her over the restaurant floor. 
 “Sorry Mrs Beauchamp, I’m going to be late for my shift, and ive heard you don’t like slackers” he smirked heading out. Connie whipped out her card. “Oh you bloody well owe me Jacob” she looked at the waiter who looked puzzled. – 
 10 minutes later Connie returned to the ED, well at least it wouldnt look as though they’d been to dinner together, or would it? Unless he’d told everyone, she wouldn’t put it passed him. She stormed into the ED heels clicking fast on the floor, passing Jacob on the way. She walked into her office and made a point of slamming the door. "Angry boss, oh dear…” He muttered under his breath before looking up at Charlie who was giving him the eye, maybe he’d heard him, he winked back, returning to writing duties as “Mr Masters” he heard a female voice behind him, it was tinted with annoyance. He span around. “My office, now” He grinned at her, she was stone faced, no expression. Still he bounced in to the office and sat himself down. “Look, Mr B, before you start..” “Beauchamp! Mrs Beauchamp!” She glared at him, maybe she was taking this too far, however she didn’t appreciate the way shed been treated. Charlie watched on from outside. Straining to listen. He thought of going to see if everything was okay, but for risk of a mouthful, he didn’t. She lowered her voice. "I do not appreciate having to pay for a meal, you told me you were going to pay for, which i only agreed to because i thought you were being gracious, doing just that, neither do I appreciate your lax attitude to the way your sat currently, sit up, your in a work setting” He couldn’t help but smirk, sitting up stiff as a board. “First of all, Mrs Beauchamp, you are so hot when your angry, let me just say, and second of all I’m sorry, whole heartedly, look I’ll pay you back, you enjoyed the food and company right?” She gave him eye contact. “That, is beside the point” “Is it though?” Jacob continued looking into her deep brown eyes. “Yes, now get back to work,go on, I don’t want to see your face back in my office again today” Jacob stood up, opening the door slightly. “Oh, you do” She bowed her head a smirk appearing on her face. “Can you, um check on Mr Benson for me” “Anything for you, before I forget, what was the bill?” “£40” she looked up again, oh his eyes, that body. Her mind trailed. “I’ll pay back after my shift sweet cheeks” he stood and watched her, near the door, was she listening? probably not, she walked over to her placing a hand on her shoulder. "Mrs Beauchamp” she looked at him. “After my shift, yeah, will pay you back?” “Too right” she smiled. Watching him leave. “Jacob, what are you doing tonight?” Impulse question, maybe, she didnt know. “Ah and there was me thinking you were done with me after what happened earlier on” Connie spoke.
"Maybe I do just value your company, and anyway,you owe me, so…?“ "So” he repeated back, edging cl
oser. “Mine or yours?” Connie spoke. “Mine” her words were soft. Broken by a knock on the door. “See you after your shift” he whispered quickly before nearing the door and letting Charlie in. “Everything okay?” He frowned at Jacob. “Absolutely, now we’re is this Mr Benson” Connie walked out of her office, those butterflies returning. – She looked up at the clock on the wall in her office. In anticipation , she didn’t know. Excitment, maybe. 5 minutes and she’d be done for the day. She continued with her paper work for a few idle minutes. A knock distracted her. "Jacob” she greeted him with a small smile. He walked in. "I’m just here to say that I can’t make tonight, Rita wants me to do some over time, you know gain experiance” Jacob watched Connie’s face drop. “ She cant, I make up the ru-” Jacob cut her off with a laugh. “Your face!” “Okay. Not funny” there’s was a slight sharpness to her words, the fact he’d jokingly seen how much it meant to her. At the tail end of laughing he watched her stand up. “Are you ready?” She nodded standing up, walking towards him. “You know, If you’d have been serious then , I wouldve had you cleaning staff toliets for the next year” she smirked. "I like getting my hands dirty” was Jacobs reply. He opened the office door letting her through. ** “Swanky place, Mrs …. Connie” he raised an eye brow. “We are definitely out of the work place now” Connie nodded yawning, she put her car keys on the side. “You look tired, how about I get the drinks flowing and you go put rest” he looked around her kitchen. “Drinks flowing?, let me assure you I only have wine in the house” However Connie didn’t argue, she did in actually fact feel quote shattered, she always did come Friday night, Jacob gestured towards the sofa “Whatever” Connie gave him a glare. “Where do you keep the bottles and glasses?” Jacob's voice came booming from the kitchen. “Top cupboard, on the right” Connie leant back on the sofa, seconds layer hearing a smash of glass. “Jacob, what are you doing?” She rose to her feet. “Sorry, it just slipped out my hand” came the reply as he stood over the sink with his hand under it. “Then cut myself picking it back up trying dipose of it” She rolled her eyes. “Let me see” she took his hand. "Quite deep, I think maybe you should let me do that next time”. “Who says they’ll be a next time” he smirked. Connie looked up, making eye contact, she leant closer, her lips almost touching his. He felt him pull back. “Bandage, do you think?” He stepped back, putting his hand back under the tap. “I will.. Um.. Get the first aid box” she stood , feeling quite disappointed for only a moment, before wondering exactly what his game was. Alcohol hadnt influence his reaction. Or hers for that matter. **Part 2** Jacob sat beside her boss, who slept curled up on the sofa. Breathing softly, she wriggled around as she had done 20 minutes before trying to get comfortable again. Jacob had drained his glass and was just about to pour himself another when his phone rang. He tried best to muffle the sound as he pulled it out the pocket, as to not wake her. Caller ID - he stared at it for a few seconds. The name 'Fiona' in bold letters flashed up on the screen. He knew she'd be wondering where he'd got to. Guilt riddled him for only a second, as he glanced at Connie again. She stirred, opening her eyes slightly. "Aren't you going to answer that.." She slurred sleepily. "Nothing important, why don't we finish of this wine, then you know, take it from there" he smirked, letting the phone ring off. Connie slowly sat up, her neck stiff. Rubbing her eyes. She watched Jacob pour her a large glass. "Thanks" she smiled. "Take it from there, I gather means get drunk and have sex.." Jacob almost choked on his mouthful. "Tell it how it is.." He grinned. Connie sipped her wine. "Exactly" -- The sun came pouring in through the curtains the next morning, Connie awoke to a snoring Jacob beside her. She laid there for a few seconds watching him sleep. A lingering headache soon hitting her. She groaned, rolling over and fixing her eyes on the empty glass of wine on her bedside table. Her alarm clock shone 9;30. For once she'd actually slept why past the normal time she wakes. The sound of a ringtone made her jump, she arose from her bed, her feet gliding into her slippers, grabbing her silk dressing gown off the end of her bed, she put it on before walking over the jeans splayed out on the floor, along with his shirt. She grabbed the phone. Seeing the letters 'Fiona' inscripted on the screen. Her heart sunk a little. okay, quite a lot I fact. Deciding to bite the bullet she answered it, quickly moving into the en-suite. "Hello Jacob's phone" she spoke softly. "Hello, who is this?" Connie listened the female voice speaking back to her sounded very young, too young to be his bit on the side. "I'm Connie Beauchamp, I work with Jacob" She waited for a reply. "I just wondered if you've seen him anywhere, he's was meant to come home after work, he said we were going to watch a film together, he promised" Connie frowned. "He's with me, I'm sorry who are you?" "I'm Fiona, Jacob's daughter, I'm 10, my mums REALLY cross with him" she exaggerated the really, like children do, Connie felt guilt. "I'll tell her where he's with you, I mean if that's okay" Connie tried to process this information. Daughter.. Mum.. wife.. girlfriend" her mind spun. Why did she answer the phone. She questioned herself. She hing up. Feeling sick, she opened the bathroom door, to see Jacob smiling at her from the bed, his face dropping noticing she had his phone. "Fiona rang, I think you'd better go Jacob" her tone had dropped. "Go on, get your things and go" Jacob leapt out of bed. "Connie, look.." "Save it Jacob, why weren't you with your daughter, wife.. Girlfriend?" She shook her head, sounding bitter, throwing his phone on the bed. "Shut the door on your way out" She walked back into the bathroom, understanding now, why the way he was with her earlier.

[jasonjove]

Jacob Masters Journal #1

"When the gears turn upon a story best forgotten...."

Esteemed Journal,

                I’m on the train presently. I believe we’re nearing the breach. Miss Carothers is in the seat to my left. I dare say she’s quite nearly as excited as myself to see the new world as I, and I am increasingly grateful to be making the journey with an escort from the University.

                Perhaps some background is due. My name is Jacob Galloway, and I am recently graduated from the University of Oxford. Having become passingly skilled in the Oxford Method, I found that my truest passion remained academia, and remained as a graduate student and assistant to the faculty following the completion of my magical studies. I nearly completed a second degree in World History while I waited for my true calling to find me.

                I confess I remain rueful at the thought of my dissertation, laying unedited in the Oxford Archives. This adventure, though, was simply to enticing to decline.

                It was Miss Carothers who suggested it. She presented to several members of the faculty the idea of an Oxford funded expedition beyond the breach. While no staff member was young enough to risk the trip to the alien frontier, they were all understandably curious for all manner of pursuits in the forgotten city.

                So it was that I, as the youngest and most physically able member of the staff, was issued the opportunity to engage in the most ambitious and exciting research project the university has yet to undertake.

                The train car around me is sparsely populated, a prospect that is truly strange to me, given the nature of the journey and the wealth of lore and opportunity at the journey’s end. Though I have frequently found in life, that I am often unable to properly understand the motivations of the unenlightened.

                The first person in the train car to attract attention is an attractive woman sitting in the far corner. She’s beautiful, well made –up, and dressed in finery that appeals more from its expert coordination a care than for its expense. While breath taking, her appeal cannot seem to escape a sense of artificiality that is altogether, and counterintuitively, unappealing.

                The train clacks along the tracks as I write, and it invokes in me and excitement that I dare say I have not felt since the earliest days of my magical instruction.

                The next woman in the compartment sits nearest the entrance, and affects an appearance that can at best be described as uncouth. Her pants and vest are leather, and her shirt is dingy and under washed. She wears a pair of pistols unconcealed on her hips and scans the car every 7 seconds. Possibly 8 seconds. There’s unfortunately no way to produce my pocket watch without signaling her that she’s being watched.

                The man across from me wears a pressed suit. It’s expensive but conversely worn out. He gives the impression of wealth, and carries a rather likeable air to him. He glances around the train car with what could be mistaken for nervousness were it not for his noble bearing.

                The last occupant of the train car stands instead of sitting. He slouches against the wall. He seems to possess an impeachable calm, which contrasts sharply against the heavy knife and revolver on his belt. His gave occasionally drifts to the carbine he’s stored in overhead luggage. He strikes every one of my senses as being a supremely dangerous man, capable of intense violence if the circumstances were to warrant it. A tiny shiver runs down my spine.

                Perhaps even if circumstances did not warrant it.

                I glance back at the woman with the pistols. She plays with a locket as the last few miles of the world that birthed me drift by in the windows. As she plays with it I catch glimpses of writing inscribed on the metal. It’s a language I’ve studied at length, when developing my dissertation on the forgotten city.

                How did this urchin acquire the locket? And what does the writing mean?