#it’s certainly a student film. I couldn’t do better but I’m not gonna pretend it’s the best movie ever

[cogzandsprings]

I’m surprised none of you little gay ppl in tumblr discuss the ending to Dark Star 1974. Feels right up this sites alley

[moodyvalentinestories]

Direction – Three | Hunt x HWU MC (Danielle)

Summary: Thomas and Danielle reminisce about the past and make a deal. 

Words: 1800+

Notes: Y’all, remember when I was writing Wherefore Art Thou My Professor? and thought it was an absolute trainwreck? I think I’ve found its worthy successor because this is so much worse (in the best way, if you ask me). I keep getting hella sidetracked and even though I know how it’s gonna end, I have NO IDEA what my brain decides to do with the middle part. So stay tuned, I guess.

❥ Previous Parts: Prologue | One | Two  ❥ Moodyvalentine’s Masterlist

Danielle was almost certain that Hunt would freak upon seeing her collection of photos from her time at Hollywood U. He wasn’t in all of them – not even half of them, really – but she did have quite a few pictures of him. Nonetheless, she felt like she at least owed it to him to let him see them. “Okay. I’ll get my laptop,” she said and got up from her chair.

“Please tell me you did not store them online,” Hunt replied, rather condescendingly.

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, no, I saved them to the most easily hackable cloud I could find. Jesus, Hunt, the ones you’re worried about are all safely stored on an encrypted flash drive. Stop assuming the worst of me for two seconds, would you?”

He mumbled something she didn’t understand – and she was sure that was for the better – while she retrieved her laptop and the flash drive.

“You’ll have to promise me not to tell a soul about the things you may see on this,” Danielle said when she returned, and Hunt raised an eyebrow.

“What exactly am I going to see?” he asked.

She shrugged as she plugged the drive into her laptop. “I’m not sure. I’ll try not to show you any things that don’t concern you, but these are pretty much all the photos I’ve bought off paparazzi that some people might not want to see published.”

“I didn’t know you did that,” Hunt remarked while she unlocked the flash drive.

Danielle chuckled. “What, you thought I needed you to save my ass all the time? You know, I try to learn from my mistakes.”

“Could have fooled me,” he huffed.

“Do you want to see the pictures or not? I know I fucked up, you don’t have to remind me,” she said and got up. “Scoot over. I’m not letting you go through them alone.”

Hunt reluctantly did as she told him, and she sat down on the sofa, closer than he probably would have liked her to be. But there were things on there she certainly did not want him to see.

There were several folders on Danielle’s flash drive, and though Thomas didn’t have a chance to get a good look at them before she’d clicked on the one titled Centaurus Lost, he had a fairly decent idea of just how many people’s photographs she had kept out of the press – and therefore just how many people she could have under her thumb, were she ever to stoop to Montmartre’s level.

One of the folders he had seen was titled Chris, which should have been the least surprising as Danielle and Chris Winters had dated for some years during her time at the university, but considering the images Thomas had seen of the two in magazines, he couldn’t even begin to imagine what could be found inside. The other folders, as far as he could tell from the short glimpse he’d caught of them, all bore the names of either projects she’d worked on – such as Centaurus Lost – or of her friends. And, all of a sudden, Thomas had to re-evaluate what he knew of Danielle.

That she had kept so much from being leaked to the public was admirable, but the fact that she had kept everything was certainly cause for concern. Perhaps she truly was capable of worse than he’d thought.

“Most of these aren’t pictures of you,” Danielle said once the contents of the folder – multiple hundreds of images – had fully loaded. “In fact, almost all of them are of Holly and Mike. I’m actually quite surprised by how many I could get, considering the whole thing with May.”

Thomas simply nodded along, beginning to feel somewhat uneasy. Many of the photographs of Tanner and Holly could have very well been used to support May Gordon’s narrative, had she ever got her hands on it. It made sense, of course, that Danielle would have wanted to keep them from being leaked at the time, seeing as it was her film as well, but now… now she could very well release them, and likely make good money speaking about everything that happened behind the scenes. He wasn’t sure he even wanted to know what she could do with whatever images she had of him.

She would be able to spin a pretty story, he was sure of it, and come out unscathed, while he… well, considering that many a despicable Hollywood giant got what they deserved these days, he was sure he could easily be lumped in with the lot of them, and his career – or what was left of it – would be over.

Because Thomas knew he’d made some questionable decisions while working with Danielle, and though they had never quite become friends – or, God forbid, more than friends – they had been closer than they probably should have been during that time, and he was certain the photos she had reflected that.

“How many are there?” he eventually asked while Danielle was scrolling through the images to find the ones they were looking for.

“Potentially incriminating ones? Two or three, I would say,” she said nonchalantly, which did nothing to alleviate his concerns.

Had she perhaps been lying again? Had she given the photographs to Montmartre after all? She’d seemed upset before, but she was an actress, and as much as Thomas believed he was skilled enough at reading people to tell whether or not they were putting on an act… Danielle was Danielle.

“And how many overall?”

She turned to him, an eyebrow raised. “We worked together quite closely on the daily. What do you think?” With a shake of her head, she turned back to the screen and said, “Ah, here they are. See for yourself.”

Danielle clicked on the first file and a picture of her and Thomas walking out of the studio together just before dawn filled the screen. That, he imagined, would have been one of the two or three problematic ones – at least in combination with the ones Montmartre already had.

“I remember that night,” Thomas said involuntarily. He wasn’t sure what he meant to say, but he knew it wasn’t that, and it most certainly wasn’t supposed to come out the way it did – as if it was a fond memory.

Danielle smiled at that. “So do I. I think it was the first time we managed not to yell at each other for more than two hours.”

“If I recall correctly, you almost ruined the peace by finishing off my Scotch without asking me,” he said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world to reminisce about photographs he was worried could be used as blackmail material.

“You ate my snacks first. It was only fair,” Danielle countered, then let out a sigh. “God, that seems like so long ago.”

Thomas had to agree, though it really hadn’t been. It had to have been just over a year and a half, and yet it felt like an eternity. He didn’t say that, though, and just remained silent as Danielle began clicking through the images.

Most of them were harmless – the two of them at work, several obvious disagreements, or just a conversation – but then there was another one from a late night. It had clearly been shot through a window and showed Thomas and Danielle in an embrace that, to an outsider, would most certainly not look appropriate for a professor and a student.

“You should…” Thomas began, then trailed off. He remembered that night, too. It had been one of the last nights before filming – and therefore their working relationship – had ended. They’d officially made peace then, promising to respect each other as they hadn’t before they’d started working together. Needless to say, that hadn’t worked out. Thomas cleared his throat. “You should probably delete this one.”

She looked up at him, eyes wide, and shook her head. “I promise, no one will get their hands on this. Dean knows his stuff; he’s made sure it’s safe, and nobody knows where I store this. I swear—”

“Danielle,” Thomas said quietly and much more softly than he had intended.

Chewing her lip in that way she always did when she was nervous, she regarded him for a moment more, then looked back to the image on screen. “You know, I really thought you meant it then,” she said wistfully. “That we could be civil, at least.”

“We are civil right now,” he argued, which made her turn to him again, a stern look on her face.

“Right. But only because you want to check out what I have on you. Don’t think for a moment that I don’t know that. I’m not quite that naïve, Hunt.” She sighed. “Look, if you want me to delete the photos, I’ll delete them.”

Thomas wanted to believe the offer was genuine, but if his concerns were justified, she’d certainly have copies of everything lying around somewhere. And if they weren’t, it wouldn’t matter whether or not she kept the photos.

“No,” he said eventually. “But I’m going to need something in return, to guarantee you won’t release or use them against me in any way. Insurance, if you will.”

Danielle narrowed her eyes at him. “You honestly think I would – of course you do.” She huffed. “Fine. It’s a good thing I happen to know you only pretend to be scary so people will respect you,” she said as she removed the flash drive and put the laptop down on the coffee table.

“What are you doing?” Thomas asked, furrowing his brows.

“Oh, I’m not giving you my nudes,” she said and got up from the sofa, smirking when an odd choking sound escaped Thomas. “Come on, I’ll give you something better.”

He followed Danielle to her wardrobe and watched as she climbed onto a chair to get a cardboard box off the top shelf. She handed it to him without another word, then jumped off the chair.

“What is it?” Thomas asked.

“Open it.”

He did as she told him and gasped when he saw the contents. “I thought the university had taken care of this.”

“They did,” she said, biting her lip. “Nothing ever got out. And it’s not everything, but it’s enough proof, I’d say.”

“I couldn’t – this would ruin you,” Thomas said and tried to give the box back but Danielle wouldn’t take it.

“Kind of the point, isn’t it?” she said with a shrug. “ You’re worried I’ll ruin you, so I’m giving you the tools to return the favour if I ever do. Wasn’t that what you wanted?”

He nodded hesitantly. “Yes, but—”

“Good. Good,” she said resignedly and inclined her head towards the door. “Then I suppose it’s time for you to go.”

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