Sat opposite you was none other than Richard Armitage in the flesh, and you had been asked to interview him. You had greeted him, trying to hide your nervousness, shaking his hand and offering him a seat.
The cameraman stood waiting for the signal to begin whilst you flicked through some of the questions which had been posed by fans online, mainly from Twitter.
You looked up to the cameraman and then at Richard. “Are you ready?”
“Yes, when you are,” Richard replied, offering a smile.
You proceeded to give your normal introduction, explaining who Richard was, listing some of his past filmography and then officially greeted him on camera. The whole time and your heart was hammering in your chest. Interviews rarely fazed you, but asking one of your favourite actors questions was going to be a challenge.
“Right, lets get to the questions then, Richard,” you said, smiling into the camera, and then looked down to the sheet in front of you.
The first question went smoothly as you asked Richard about his methods of getting in character. You then listened to his answer carefully, offering responses. Until you came to the second question which had been asked by a fan from Twitter and even had an attached picture. Instantly you began to giggle. “I’m so sorry,” you said, your shoulders arching up and down in your amusement.
“What is it?” Richard asked, leaning across and looking at the sheet in front of you.
But still you couldn’t stop laughing, and by now you could hear the cameraman chuckling and Richard began to follow suit. “What is it?” he asked again.
You put your hand to your face, full guffaws taking over, and you offered him the sheet. There, in full colour and drawn, was a sketch of Thorin in drag. Beneath the picture was a list of questions regarding what Thorin’s dance routine and favourite songs would be to perform to.
I’ve done 32 & 43 for dickkory but I shall do 16. Whilst this prompt is a good and obvious angst kinda prompt… I’m so not feeling real, hardcore angst. Just a heads up but here’s something a little different…
“It was an accident, I swear.”
He had palpitations as he stared at his girl. She was just sitting there, staring at the counter. She looked numb, like he had completely ruined things. He felt so guilty, it was awful.
“Star, I… I didn’t-”
She shook her head and held up a hand, not wanting to hear his excuses.
“How could you?”
The question hung in the air and Nightwing sighed, “I can make it better. Just- Just give me an hour and I can-”
“You cannot fix this. It will never be the same. I worked on this for a long time, Dick.”
He hung his head, “I know… I’m sorry. I just… I couldn’t stop myself, Starfire.”
She inhaled deeply, eyes narrowed at him, “I thought you had more respect for my belongings.”
Nightwing’s eyes widened, “I did! I do! I promise. This was just… a little weakness of willpower. Can you really blame me? It’s… just so tempting.”
She stood up and turned back and forth before her eyes alighted on him once again. Starfire tapped her fingertips against the counter. He could almost see her mind ticking over.