#time for change film trailer

[ohmybitna]

i feel like the reason we didn't see oat and nene kiss might be because they are slowly easing us into viewmim. a lot of people are used to seeing view and june paired up and since this is the first project where one of them is paired with someone else, they are taking it slow and only cementing in the last episode that it wasn't just harmless flirting between the characters in the show but that in the last episode mim's character (nene) reciprocates the feelings and thereby making it clear to the viewers that they are a proper pairing from now on.

[araneitela]

Me staring at test results: It makes so much sense for her, but if I don't specify or elaborate, then we end up with the fanon take. Ugh, how do I easily explain that if you look at the word 'sex' through a much more old-fashioned lens instead of the modern one, that you'll get a vastly different picture of it?

/takes angycat.png typing to my tags

[sketchy-etchy]

Bro is her wrist ok?! And what’s with the funky dress sleeve?

(Obviously minor animation errors that’ll hopefully be adjusted)

[pavlikbuonarroti]

now why did i have a dream about smile 2 when i haven't even seen it

[maaarine]

'We Can Bury Anyone': Inside a Hollywood Smear Machine (Megan Twohey and Mike McIntire and Julie Tate, The New York Times, Dec 21 2024)

"Last summer, as the release of “It Ends With Us” approached, Justin Baldoni, the director and a star of the film, and Jamey Heath, the lead producer, hired a crisis public relations expert.

During shooting, Blake Lively, the co-star, had complained that the men had repeatedly violated physical boundaries and made sexual and other inappropriate comments to her.

Their studio, Wayfarer, agreed to provide a full-time intimacy coordinator, bring in an outside producer and put other safeguards on set.

In a side letter to Ms. Lively’s contract, signed by Mr. Heath, the studio also agreed not to retaliate against the actress.

But by August, the two men, who had positioned themselves as feminist allies in the #MeToo era, expressed fears that her allegations would become public and taint them, according to a legal complaint that she filed Friday.

It claims that their P.R. effort had an explicit goal: to harm Ms. Lively’s reputation instead.

Her filing includes excerpts from thousands of pages of text messages and emails that she obtained through a subpoena.

These and other documents were reviewed by The New York Times. (…)

Mr. Baldoni was best known for the CW satirical romantic dramedy “Jane the Virgin.”

Wayfarer provided the resources for bigger ambitions. It was bankrolled by the billionaire Steve Sarowitz, who is co-chair of the studio with Mr. Baldoni.

They and Mr. Heath, the chief executive, are all deeply involved with the Baha’i religious organization, which promotes unity, peace and gender equality.

Mr. Baldoni has presented himself as an ally to women, writing books, co-hosting a podcast with Mr. Heath and giving talks on toxic masculinity. (…)

She claimed Mr. Baldoni had improvised unwanted kissing and discussed his sex life, including encounters in which he said he may not have received consent.

Mr. Heath had shown her a video of his wife naked, she said, and he had watched Ms. Lively in her trailer when she was topless and having body makeup removed, despite her asking him to look away.

She said that both men repeatedly entered her makeup trailer uninvited while she was undressed, including when she was breastfeeding. (…)

As the film release neared, Ms. Lively and other cast members informed Sony and Wayfarer that they would not do any appearances alongside Mr. Baldoni.

So did Ms. Hoover, the author, who had her own dissatisfactions with him and had become more upset after he told her about Ms. Lively’s allegations, according to text messages from Mr. Baldoni and Mr. Heath.

By the first week of August, Wayfarer and Mr. Baldoni had retained Ms. Nathan, who had worked with high-profile clients including Mr. Depp, whose ex-wife, Amber Heard, accused him of physical abuse. (…)

Three days later, Mr. Baldoni texted Ms. Abel, flagging a social media thread that accused another celebrity of bullying behavior and had generated 19 million views. “This is what we would need,” he wrote.

Ms. Nathan soon floated proposals to hire contractors to dominate social media through “full social account take downs,” by starting “threads of theories” and generally working to “change narrative.”

“All of this will be most importantly untraceable,” she wrote. (…)

When Ms. Abel wrote to her Aug. 4 that “I’m having reckless thoughts of wanting to plant pieces this week of how horrible Blake is to work with. Just to get ahead of it,” Ms. Nathan replied that she had spoken off the record to an editor at The Daily Mail.

“She’s ready when we are,” Ms. Nathan wrote.

A flurry of articles followed the Hollywood Reporter piece. Many made it seem as if the only rift was over creative control.

Some journalists had gotten wind of complaints about Mr. Baldoni’s behavior, but none of the most serious ones were published.

“He doesn’t realise how lucky he is right now,” Ms. Nathan texted Ms. Abel. (…)

It is unclear exactly how Mr. Wallace operated.

There are references in emails to “social manipulation” and “proactive fan posting,” and text messages cite efforts to “boost” and “amplify” online content that was favorable to Mr. Baldoni or critical of Ms. Lively.

“We are crushing it on Reddit,” Mr. Wallace told Ms. Nathan, according to a text she sent Ms. Abel on Aug. 9.

The next day, one of Ms. Nathan’s employees texted, “We’ve started to see shift on social, due largely to Jed and his team’s efforts to shift the narrative.”

Ms. Nathan wrote to Ms. Abel: “And socials are really really ramping up. In his favour, she must be furious. It’s actually sad because it just shows you have people really want to hate on women.” (…)

On Aug. 16, Ms. Nathan shared the Daily Mail article headlined “Is Blake Lively set to be CANCELLED?” with references to ‘hard to watch’ videos and a ‘tone deaf’ promotional Q. and A.

“Wow. You really outdid yourself with this piece,” Ms. Abel responded.

“That’s why you hired me right?” Ms. Nathan replied. “I’m the best.”"

[bodhrancomedy]

When I was about thirteen, I remember dreaming a film trailer. When I woke up, I wrote it down and most of it is generic fantasy oppression fight the system by collecting mcguffins stuff -

But a major stylisation of it was that flat, shiny, Tim Burton/Disney CGI. The world was dripping in this. Everything was that oversaturated, over-polished, over-worked CGI.

But every time they collected/destroyed another Mcguffin, that CGI went away. But by bit it transitioned into real sets and practical effects until there is no noticeable CGI at all. Because that’s the system they were fighting - they weren’t being allowed to see what the real world looked like.

Decay and rot and broken infrastructure were being essentially photoshopped over because our villainous leader had no interest or ability to maintain things. It was only ever a temporary solution thought up by someone who thought that transforming a pack of wolves into humans to be her elite guard force was, in fact, a good idea.

(It was not. There was a whole subplot about the secondary antagonists in-fighting and being driven insane by the disconnect between how humans and wolves think and act where the one which were cubs when transformed were desperate to return to something they’d never experience and the patriarch/matriarch of the family knew they were too changed to ever survive as wolves again - definitely stolen from Terry Pratchett)

But, yeah, I’d be tempted to see if that would work, but with a story not dreamed up by a thirteen year old with an obsession with 1970s actors.

[rafedarling]

𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞

request: open

pairing: drew starkey x actress!reader

summary: new parents and beloved hollywood couple drew and you take to the jimmy kimmel live stage to discuss your latest movie project together, which releases in may. between balancing new parenthood and demanding film schedules, you two finds yourself sharing a funny, heartfelt stories about life on set with their baby girl, emma starkey. a viral behind-the-scenes video brings laughter to the show, as you discuss how parenting has influenced your lives and careers. based on today drew interview on jimmy kimmel live interview.

warning(s): english is not my native language. fluff, humorous parenting moments, discussions of balancing work and family life.

au: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @anamiad00msday @stuffyownswrld @httpsdrewstarkey @mileyraes @enjoymyloves @akobx @noobmazter69 @victwrvale @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxosblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @percysley @littlelamy

gif: rafedarling

“Ladies and gentlemen, our next guests are not only Hollywood’s favorite power couple but also the stars of the highly anticipated romantic-action film Against All Odds, which hits theaters this May. And if that’s not enough, they’ve recently stepped into the chaotic world of parenthood with their baby girl, Emma. Please welcome Drew Starkey and Y/N!”

You can hear the audience roared with applause as Jimmy Kimmel welcomed his next guests.

You and Drew walked out hand in hand, smiling and waving to the audience. Drew’s free hand rested on your back as he guided you to the guest couch. The applause was deafening, with some cheers and whistles peppered in. You laughed as Jimmy gestured to quiet the audience.

“Wow,” Jimmy said, shaking his head.

“You guys have the crowd in a frenzy. I mean, Hollywood’s hottest couple and now officially parents? Congratulations!”

“Thank you,” you said, smiling at the crowd. “It’s been a crazy year.”

“Yeah,” Drew chimed in, “between the movie and the baby, I’m not even sure what sleep feels like anymore.”

The audience laughed, and Jimmy leaned forward.

“Okay, we have to start with the most important question: How’s parenthood treating you? You’ve got a baby girl, Emma. How’s life with a newborn?”

Drew chuckled and ran a hand through his hair.

“It’s… humbling, to say the least. Being a first-time parent is no joke. I don’t think I could survive it without this one,” he said, nodding toward you.

You playfully nudged him. “Oh, stop it. You’re doing great.”

Jimmy smiled. “Okay, Y/N, your turn. How’s life as a mom?”

“It’s amazing,” you said, your voice softening.

“I mean, it’s exhausting, but Emma’s such a sweet baby. Watching her grow and discover the world makes all the sleepless nights worth it.”

Jimmy raised an eyebrow. “Sleepless nights? Drew, are you pulling your weight with those 3 a.m. feedings and diaper changes?”

Drew grinned, holding up his hands defensively.

“Absolutely. I’ve mastered the art of the one-handed diaper change. My record is forty-three seconds.”

The audience erupted in laughter, and you rolled your eyes.

“He’s not lying. But let’s not forget the time you forgot to put the diaper on at all.”

The crowd gasped with laughter as Drew shook his head, groaning.

“Okay, in my defense, I was running on two hours of sleep. And the burp cloth worked just fine… temporarily.”

Jimmy laughed, slapping the desk. “You’re officially a dad now, Drew. Forgetting a diaper is like a rite of passage.”

Drew nodded solemnly. “It’s a learning curve.”

Jimmy turned his attention back to you. “Now, let’s talk about Against All Odds. The trailer has everyone excited. What can you tell us about the movie?”

You leaned forward slightly.

“It’s a romantic-action film about two rival spies played by Drew and me who are forced to work together on a mission to stop a global threat. Of course, things get complicated when they realize they have a shared past.”

“Ah, a little romance, a little action,” Jimmy said. “And a lot of explosions, I’m guessing?”

“Definitely,” Drew said.

“The stunts in this film are insane. We’ve got car chases, hand-to-hand combat, and this one sequence where Y/N literally jumps out of a helicopter.”

The audience gasped, and Jimmy’s jaw dropped.

“Wait, wait. You’re telling me Y/N did her own stunts?”

You shrugged with a smile. “Most of them, yeah. The helicopter scene was terrifying, but the adrenaline rush was worth it.”

Jimmy turned to Drew. “And how did you feel about your wife jumping out of a helicopter while pregnant?”

“Oh, that scene was filmed before we knew about Emma,” Drew said quickly.

“But I still worried about her constantly. Every time she’d do a stunt, I’d be off to the side like, ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’”

You laughed. “He was basically my personal cheerleader-slash-bodyguard.”

Jimmy shook his head, smiling. “And Y/N, how was filming while pregnant? Did the crew make accommodations for you?”

“They were amazing,” you said.

“They adjusted the schedule so that I could rest when I needed to, and they made sure I always had plenty of snacks on set.”

“Snacks were essential,” Drew added. “She had a bag of trail mix with her at all times.”

Jimmy laughed. “It sounds like the two of you had a lot going on behind the scenes. Speaking of which, I have to ask about the viral video. You know the one.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. Drew laughed, shaking his head.

“Oh no. You’re not really going to show it, are you?”

“Of course I am!” Jimmy said, grinning.

“For anyone who hasn’t seen it, this is a behind-the-scenes video of Drew and Y/N on set. Drew’s building a baby crib, and Y/N is… well, just watch.”

The screen infront and behind you lit up with the video. The audience howled as they watched Drew hammering away at a crib while you sat on a couch with a breast pump. The rhythmic “whirr, whirr” of the pump provided the perfect comedic soundtrack as Drew worked intently. At one point, you casually scrolled through your phone, looking completely unbothered.

When the video ended, the audience erupted into cheers and laughter. Jimmy was wiping tears from his eyes.

“So my question is… is this what you do on set?”

“Well,” Drew said, still chuckling, “Emma needed a crib, and we didn’t have one on set. So, naturally, I decided to build one during a break.”

“And I,” you added with a grin, “was taking care of my part of the parenting duties. Multitasking at its finest.”

Jimmy shook his head, laughing.

“You two are the epitome of modern parenthood. Drew, do you moonlight as a carpenter now?”

Drew smirked. “Not yet, but give me a few more months of parenting, and I’ll be building treehouses.”

The audience laughed again, and Jimmy leaned back in his chair.

“Okay, last question: How do you balance it all? Filming, parenting, being a couple; what’s the secret?”

You exchanged a glance with Drew before answering.

“Honestly, communication is everything. We make sure to check in with each other and divide responsibilities as evenly as possible.”

“And coffee,” Drew added. “Lots of coffee.”

Jimmy nodded sagely. “Coffee and communication. Words to live by.”

The interview wrapped up with more laughs, and even a clip from Against All Odds. As the applause filled the studio, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the life you and Drew had built on and off the screen. together.

[no-144444]

2 hands-l.norris

summary: your stunt-driver pulled out the day before the shoot, good thing you're dating an f1 driver.

pairing: lando norris x fem! singer! reader

a/n: I, like everyone else, was convinced he'd be in the music video, but alas, no. so here's this to hopefully make up for that :)

kind of smut so 18+

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“Fuck,” you groaned, flinging yourself onto your bed. 

“You alright baby?” Lando asked, putting his phone down and looking at you. He very much appreciated the sight in front of him, his girlfriend in nothing but tiny sleep shorts and an old quadrant hoodie. He smiled as you crawled into bed with him. 

“The stunt driver for the shoot tomorrow just cancelled,” you frowned, cuddling up to his side. “We’ll have to reschedule, so then the release date of the song will be pushed back, and the release of the tour dates, and-”

“I can do it,” he offered. 

You snapped your head to look at him. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “What kind of car is it?”

“A McLaren,” you nodded and he smiled. “This is genius, and we don’t even have to show your face so it won’t reveal anything-”

“We could show my face and just tell people we’re together,” he shrugged, pulling you onto his lap so that you were straddling him. “It has been 2 years, and this song is about me,” he smirked. 

You rolled your eyes but nodded all the same. “I have an idea! Let me call the director!” you smiled, jumping off his lap as he frowned at the loss of contact. You quickly ran into your office to start making plans for the next day, excited at your new idea. 

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You had entirely rewritten the script for the video, but everyone was much more into the new version, so no one was that upset. Also, everyone was ecstatic that you’d finally decided to include Lando in a video, finally showing the public that you two were together. 

The first scene you two had to film was in the car dealership where you were buying a McLaren. You were wearing a simple but pretty dress with a black leather racing jacket. You caught Lando’s eye as he was reading over the script and he smirked, smacking your ass as you went by. You chuckled and hit his hand back, effectively shooing him away so you could get to your spot.

When you got to your spot, the cameras rolled and the director shouted action, and off you went. 

“So what’re you looking for?” Max F, the ‘actor’ playing the car salesman, smirked. Yes, you’d gotten Max in on it too.

“Something fast.” 

The camera flashed between the two of you, then to the orange McLaren behind you. 

“I’ll need a test drive,” you smirked, and the camera panned to Lando, clad in a beautiful purple and orange racing suit tied around his waist, a shirt with the car dealerships logo on it, and a smirk on his face. He jingled the keys and the intro to the song started playing, then they cut. 

“Perfect!” Kyle, the director, shouted. “We’ll get it from a few more angles, then move on.”

Next was a shot of the two of you in the car, Lando wearing sunglasses as he drove through the LA streets as you lip synced to the first verse of the song, the angles changing every few words. After shooting that a couple of times, you two got a break. 

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“You look fucking incredible,” he muttered, pressing kiss after kiss along your next as you two sat in your trailer.  “So fucking sexy.”

You chuckled,slightly pushing him off of you. “Calm down, Megan will kill me if I have any more ‘accidents’ to cover up.”

He shook his head, watching you as you got up. “You’re so beautiful,” he smiled. “So smart too.”

“Well, thank you baby,” you smiled. “Ready to take your shirt off?” 

He chuckled. “Oh yeah.”

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The next scene was pretty risque, it was the two of you in a motel bed ‘making out’ as you sang the chorus, his ‘2 hands’ all over you. On top of that, his hands were covered in lipstick kisses as well as the majority of his neck and chest, which you happily did. You’d both gone through a costume change, now you were wearing a black lacy bra and he was wearing no shirt, the both of you looking stunning (and slightly funny considering the fact that you were both just wearing sweats under the covers). 

“T-5 to action,” Kyle shouted, counting you two in. 

He pressed open mouthed kisses to your neck as you lip-synced the song to the camera over his shoulder, a sultry look in your eyes as you embodied the lyrics, grinding down on him slightly. After shooting it from a few different angles, you and the team called it a day, ready to come back tomorrow and finish it up. 

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Lando all but threw you on the bed when you got home that night, insatiable after a day of being teased. 

You giggled as he pulled your pants off, pressing kisses up your legs as he unclothed himself, muttering the whole way up to your lips. “So fuckin’ perfect baby,” he grunted. “Teasin’ me all day,” he bit into your shoulder and you moaned, making him smirk. “Such a bad girl.”

“You love it,” you smirked, wrapping your hands around his forearms and flipping the position so that you were straddling him, holding his arms to the bed. “You fucking loved it today.”

“Damn right I did,” he smirked. You let go of his hands to pull off your final item of clothing (your shirt) and his hands immediately went to caressing your thighs. His eyes grew wide as he watched you pull your shirt off, and you knew it would be a long night, but you weren’t complaining. 

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When you got to set the next day, you had an apologetic look on your face as Megan frowned, seeing the next hickeys on your neck.

“Is he a fucking vampire or something?” she scoffed, getting to work on covering them up. 

“Y’know what, don’t cover them,” Kyle interjected. “It makes sense with the video for her to have them.”

“Thanks Kyle,” Lando smiled, feeling like he was on his side. You laughed when Kyle rolled his eyes at him. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

The next scene was just shots of the car driving through the LA streets, which Lando perfectly executed. He seemed to really be enjoying himself and the shots of the car were perfect, so you moved on to the next scene, which was you two at a gas station, dancing to the song as you lip-synced. It wasn’t difficult choreography by any means (Or else Lando wouldn’t have been able to do it), but it was a bit raunchy. Mostly just you dancing on his as he smirked or you pulling him closer and almost kissing him, but then just turning back to the camera and singing the next lyric. You were wearing the car dealership shirt with tiny shorts, and he was wearing a new collection quadrant hoodie and a pair of black jeans. 

You watched as he looked you up and down while everyone else was resetting the shot to film again because Lando ended up laughing. 

“Like what you see?” you smirked. 

“More than you know,” he smiled, grabbing a handful of your ass and pulling you in for a kiss. The kiss was hot and heavy with a promise of something more beneath, it made you excited for the rest of the day. 

After refilming that a couple of times, you moved onto one of the last shots of the video, you just lip-syncing the words as you sat on top of the car, Lando in various different positions. One of him pumping the gas, one of him opening the door for you, one of him in the driver's seat, one of him beside you on the hood of the car, another of the two of you making out against the door. Moving on from that, Lando went off to film some more of the car scene while you stayed back and filmed the dance break of the song. Those were the last things that needed filming, so you all wrapped up and thanked the crew, going back home after a gruelling day to get fucked by your hot boyfriend. 

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The video came out and fans went wild. They edited it, they started fanpages, they stalked your socials, and everything in between. You both decided to make a post.

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yourusername and landonorris

liked by pierregasly, landonorris, yourusername and 8,029,238 others

yourusername: 2 hands out now.

comments

landonorris: y r u so hot??? -> yourusername: idk come cool me down -> landonorris: RUNNING

mclaren: stream 2 hands for win in LV🧡🧡🧡

user83: BI PANIC WTF

user29: THE BED SCENE HELLO????

carlossainz: lando is no longer a little boy? -> yourusername: bro was never 'little' -> user21: WTF WTF WTF WTF

user6: MY OTP

user33: My ship is alive!!!!!!!

user74: ewww a vroom vroom guy??

user46: no way lando no- rizz bagged THE Y/N Y/L/N -> yourusername: it's a sad truth... -> oscarpiastri: @.landonorris you're going to take that? -> landonorris: yes. look at her. -> landonorris: actually don't. don't look at her. she's mine

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[psformybss]

The Call

series masterlist

pairings: drew starkey x secret fiancee!reader

warnings: none

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︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

The South Carolina sun hung low in the sky, casting golden light over the Outer Banks set. Drew stood with Madelyn and Chase near the trailers, laughing about something stupid that had happened during rehearsal. The cast had only been filming for a few weeks, still in the early stages of getting to know each other, and while the group was bonding quickly, Drew remained somewhat of a mystery. He was friendly, easygoing, but undeniably private.

Midway through Chase’s story, Drew’s phone buzzed in his pocket. When he pulled it out, his expression immediately changed—his usual neutral expression softened, a small, unmistakable smile tugging at his lips. Without a word, he excused himself, stepping away toward a tree on the outskirts of set.

Madelyn and Chase exchanged a look.

“Who’s got him smiling like that?” Madelyn mused, raising an eyebrow.

“No clue,” Chase said, crossing his arms. “That’s the first time I’ve seen him actually look happy to get a phone call.”

Under the tree, Drew answered, his voice instantly warm. “Hey, baby.”

Madelyn’s head snapped toward Chase. “Baby? Oh, we have to figure out who that is.”

Meanwhile, Drew listened intently as Y/N spoke, excitement bubbling through the phone.

“I think I found the one, Drew,” she said, practically breathless. “I know we’ve been looking for months, and nothing in L.A. felt right, but the second I saw this place, I knew.”

Drew’s lips twitched up. “Oh yeah?”

“Yes! It’s in Charleston, close to everything, but still kinda tucked away. And it has this huge wraparound porch that I know you’re gonna love.”

Drew hummed, already intrigued. They had spent months searching for a place in L.A., convinced that was where they needed to be for work. But nothing ever felt like home. Then they moved to Charleston for Outer Banks, and suddenly, everything just clicked. The slower pace, the charm of the city—it felt right in a way L.A. never had.

“Tell me more,” he said, shifting against the tree.

“Okay, okay,” Y/N gushed. “It has an open kitchen with so much counter space, and the master bedroom has these huge windows that let in all this natural light. And—” She hesitated for a second before continuing, a little softer, “There’s an extra room. Could be an office… or, you know, a nursery one day.”

Drew’s chest tightened in the best way possible. “You already planning for that?” he teased.

Y/N huffed. “Hey, you were the one who said you wanted at least two kids.”

He chuckled. “I did say that.”

She grinned through the phone. “So? Can I call the realtor?”

Drew exhaled, already knowing his answer. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Let’s do it.”

“Wait—really?”

“Really. I trust you.”

Y/N let out an excited squeal, making Drew laugh.

“Oh my God, okay, I’ll send you the listing right now,” she said quickly. “You’re gonna love it, I swear. And—oh! It has a backyard. We can finally get a dog.”

Drew shook his head, amused. “Knew that was coming.”

“You promised me a dog.”

“I did,” he admitted. “Guess I gotta make good on that promise now.”

Y/N hummed in satisfaction. “Damn right.”

Drew leaned against the tree, lowering his voice as he spoke. “Love you, you know that?”

“I know,” she said, a soft smile in her tone. “Love you more.”

Drew stayed there for a moment after the call ended, staring at his screen, still smiling. He was already picturing the house, picturing them in it—waking up together in that sunlit bedroom, cooking in that big kitchen, sitting on that wraparound porch with a dog curled up at their feet.

When he turned back toward set, Chase and Madelyn were waiting, arms crossed, identical grins on their faces.

“So,” Chase started, drawing out the word. “Who was that?”

Drew glanced at them, unimpressed. “Why do you care?”

Madelyn scoffed. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you walked away like a lovesick puppy and have been smiling for the past five minutes? We didn’t even know you had a girlfriend.”

Drew, completely unbothered, slipped his phone back into his pocket. “I don’t.”

Madelyn frowned. “But—”

“I have a fiancée.”

Silence.

Chase blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

Drew smirked at their stunned faces before casually walking back toward set. “C’mon, we’ve got a scene to film.”

Madelyn and Chase stood frozen for another few seconds before Madelyn turned to Chase.

“What the hell?”

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i hope y’all like it! i have more ideas for this pairing but im also taking requests!

ps. this is my first post ever in tumblr, i’ve had an account on here for a long time but i never felt like posting until now so give me some grace as i try to figure out how everything works (this is lowkey harder than i thought lol)

[neeeooon]

heyy!! can you do bllk boys with a s/o who has trouble expressing their feelings? like they don't know how to react to things.

I'd like if you include ness, rin, shidou, reo, barou and karasu. Thank you 🫶🏻

yes ofc! ik this isn’t exactly what you asked for, but i hope you enjoy 🫶 thank you for the request!

when you have trouble expressing your feelings ;

bf bllk x gn!reader

alexis ness

-> you and ness are opposites in the best and worst of ways

-> where he has no trouble expressing himself, he doesn’t always understand the feelings he’s expressing. you, on the other hand, know what you feel, but struggle to put them into words

-> one time, the two of you were out getting breakfast when the waiter accidentally gave you someone else’s order. you knew you wouldn’t eat it and tried to call the waiter back, but you hesitated too long

-> ness didn’t have that problem. he caught the thinking look on your face and up on the defense because why was your expression so distressed? what had happened? he needed to help you!

-> the waiter comes back and ness shoots him with a, “my partner is upset and it’s your fault.” “ness!” and with the waiter’s eyes on you you want to sink into the cushions and die of embarrassment

-> “it’s.. um. this isn’t.. what i wanted..” you gesture to the plate, point to the menu, and the waiter straightens with a gasp. “you wanted the number 4! crap, i knew something wasn’t right. i’ll get that sorted right away!”

-> you frown at your boyfriend, who is beaming at the fact that you expressed yourself, even if it was in a whisper

itoshi rin

-> the quiet that surrounds your relationship is comfortable. it’s how you knew rin was the one, since silence usually makes you uncomfortable

-> but… it can get a little awkward at times. like when rin gives you a rare compliment, and you stand there in silence because you don’t know how to respond

-> despite that, rin has learned to read you like the back of his hand. the two of you went to a movie together, wanting to see a new zombie film that looked pretty good. by the trailer, you hadn’t realized it would be so gorey and gross

-> rin kept you in his peripheral, watching for any changes in your expression, since he knows you hate excessive blood and gore in films. one flinch, so small you barely felt it, is enough for him to pull you to your feet

-> “where are we going?” “we’re leaving.” “w-why? i thought you wanted to watch this..” rin gives your hand a little squeeze as you exit the theater. “i didn’t realize it would have so much blood. you made it a lot further than i thought you would, though.”

-> truth was you were ready to run out at the ten minute mark, but you didn’t know how to tell rin that, so you sat through as long as possible. you were more than happy that he noticed, though, because five more minutes and you may have thrown up all over yourself

shidou ryusei

-> you cannot take a compliment, and while it frustrates you immensely, shidou thinks it’s the cutest thing in the world

-> “your hair looks really nice today, y/n~” “oh, um.. y-you too? i mean yours.” “teehee~ you’re so adorable when you get all flustered over a compliment.” your flaming face is your only response

-> it’s not like you don’t want to compliment him back. shidou does so much for you, but your words stay stuck on the tip of your tongue. they refuse to leave your lips, and he’ll soothe you then, too

-> “you frustrated?” you shrug, which means yes. shidou hums and gives your shoulder a few comforting squeezes. “don’t worry, i know. you think i’m the most handsome guy around!” “i do..” “?! did you just compliment me?!” “i was agreeing with what you said!” which meant yes

-> shidou threw his arms around you and pretended to weep. “you love me so much!!” you can’t say it back, but your arms around him mean yes, i do

mikage reo

-> at first, you loved that reo did the talking for you. he didn’t start on his own; you would look at him any time someone asked you a question, and he didn’t have the heart to watch you struggle

-> however, you feel a bit pathetic now. you don’t like feeling codependent on your boyfriend to do simple things like tell someone how you’re feeling

-> you wanted to test yourself, and thought the best place would be in public. the two of you were going to one of your regular date restaurants, where they have your favorite orders memorized

-> seated, the waitress recognized you both and immediately went to confirm your regular orders. reo smiled at her and started to say, “yes,” but you, shaking with all your might, cut in as politely as possible. “actually, sorry, can i please try this instead?”

-> the waitress looks just as floored as reo, but quickly nods and rushes off with your menus

-> reo just stares at you, to the point where you have to look away. “what..? are you mad—“ “you expressed that you wanted to try something new! i’m public!” “yeah..” “that’s amazing, y/n! i’m so proud of you.”

barou shouei

-> you struggle more with the physical expression of your feelings

-> example, you and barou walking to the store together. he gently moves you aside, per the sidewalk rule (guys walk closer to the road), and holds your hand

-> what you want to do it hold his hand back and give it a squeeze, but you just can’t. you don’t know why, but it’s like the connection between your brain and your body aren’t always in sync

-> turns out you just need a little extra motivation to spark the connection, because a storm brews inside your composed expression when you see a girl shamelessly hitting on your boyfriend one evening

-> he pulls away when she tries to squeeze his bicep, but that doesn’t deter her. you’re trembling as you approach, unsure of what you could possibly do or say to make her leave, doubting the interaction, until you reach his side

-> one little loop of your arm around his is enough for her eyes to pop wide open. “oh! sorry…” and she awkwardly darts off

-> barou relaxes beneath your touch, trying hard not to beam at the contact you initiated. “you alright, y/n?” you nod once but keep your grip tight, and barou keeps you close for the rest of the night

karasu tabito

-> he has a plan to help you speak up for yourself, and it’s a bit sink or swim of him

-> you’ve both gotten comfortable with karasu reading your expression and making decisions for you based on it. 99.9% of the time he’s right, but you both know there’ll come a day where he isn’t there to help you out

-> that day came sooner than you wanted. karasu was redecorating his room, which involved a trip to the paint store. he gave you the paint name he wanted and “went to the restroom”

-> little did you know, he asked one of the staff members to help you and not leave until you got the paint

-> as the associate approaches, you frantically text your boyfriend, telling him to hurry. but you know it’s pointless when you accidentally lock eyes with the older woman

-> you don’t know why she’s being so persistent, but she is determined to help you find the damn paint. you’re forced to explain who you’re looking for and show her the color strip karasu gave you, but in the end, you get the paint

-> immediately after she hands it to you, your boyfriend miraculously appears! “oh, all done?” you shoot him a look that read, i know what you did. and he just laughs

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Tornado Nightmare

Summary: Tyler Owens x Fe!Reader -> It's no secret you and Tyler didn't get along. But when you have a nightmare and you trust him to help you, things begin to change.

Disclaimer: I don't know how this one is considering I took a break in between writing it, but I hope you enjoy it ❤ Mostly fluff, enemies-is to lovers, Tyler takes care of reader, Wrangler shenanigans, becoming unlikely friends, light swearing, mentions of nightmares. Not Proof Read.

It was no secret you and Tyler didn’t get along. It wasn’t anything personal…or maybe it was? It had been so long since you’d both met, you couldn’t remember the exact moment you’d both gone from being strangers to being…well, whatever the hell you called two people who shared the same friendship group and work colleagues but never seemed to be on the same page with each other. 

It had been one petty fight after the other. Which tornado to chase, whose data was clearer in the field, what way to cut the film in order to make the best trailer, which motel to stay at, which restaurant was better, which screw to use to secure down the bar along the top of the roof. It had also been a lifetime of constant heated glances and disgusted faces when you both spotted each other despite knowing you’d be meeting. 

In fact, it didn’t take long before Tyler banned you from his truck. Sometimes you’d piss him off by touching the rim of the flatbed when the others were sitting on the back of it in the evening. 

But he was also banned from stepping foot on your porch. If he wanted inside, he’d have to find a way in through a window. The only time you’d let him step foot on it was when he threatened to pee on your lawn. 

For the others it was annoying; at first. But, when they realised Boone had been playing a secret game with both yourself and Tyler, your rivalry with each other became a form of entertainment. 

Counting how many groans Tyler would give in a minute when you talked, how many eye rolls you’d do until you’d get eyestrain. There was also a bet going on each day for who would crack first and start the long needed argument of the day; you or Tyler. 

So far, you were winning in that department. There was just something about Tyler that got under your skin even when he wasn’t around. Most of the extra argument you had with him had started with yourself against, well, yourself. 

However, there seemed to be an accepted concept that only you and Tyler were allowed to fight each other. If anyone else wanted to argue or start something with you or Tyler, away from those working as a Tornado Wrangler, they’d get an earful. 

The others had seen it. 

Twice in a bar in Arkansas where Tyler had stepped in front of you after two different men on two separate occasions started to get a little more physical with their opinions. Despite what your feelings were for each other, you were still a part of Tyler’s team. He and the others could fight you on different opinions – verbally, never physically – but others had to know where to leave their opinions. 

And three times in diners up and down the interstate. Granted, two of those occasions were because of one specific StormPar analyst who clearly didn’t get the message the first time round; but the second was a complete stranger who called Tyler some things that didn’t agree with you. Not only was he attacking Tyler for his job, but he was indirectly attacking your profession. So you stood up for him, and the other Wranglers. And, indirectly, StormPar. That part you hated, but at the end of the day, you all had the same job. 

But one day, the rest of the Wranglers were met with a scene they never in a million years thought they’d discover. 

You and Tyler, in a kitchen together. Your kitchen. Where the knives, and scissors and other kitchen utensils that could have been used as a weapon were kept. Cooking. Dancing. Talking. Laughing. 

Together.

“Should…” Kate looked around at the others to make sure they were seeing the same thing she was. “Should we do something?”

Dani gave her a similar expression. “I..I don’t know what’s even happening right now.”

“You are seeing what I’m seeing, right?” Boone asked, unable to take his eyes from the kitchen window and backdoor. 

“Uh-huh.” Was the main consensus. 

“Good,” Boone almost whimpered. “Good. Just wanted to check.”

“Do we just…go in?” Lily asked but Dexter held out his hand. 

“N-not yet. I want to see what happens. We might not see this again.”

So they did. For ten solid minutes. 

Neither you or Tyler had heard or seen them, so you just continued cooking. Obviously, they’d noticed a slight difference in both you and Tyler in recent weeks. There were less fights. There wasn’t always complete agreement, but since no fight was made, acceptance was the only thing left to do. 

But never had they expected the recent silences to lead to…whatever the hell was happening to you and Tyler. 

Whilst watching you and Tyler in the kitchen, Lily and Kate let out two small gasps which they managed to cover up with the help of Boone and Javi. 

Tyler had touched you. Walking behind you to get to the stove, he’d laid a gentle hand on your hip, guiding you to the side as you reached into the cupboard. And you didn’t yell. You didn’t curse him out. 

In fact, you smiled. 

You both smiled. 

The rest of the Wranglers continued to watch on in intrigue. 

Meanwhile, inside the kitchen, both you and Tyler had no idea of what spectacle was going on outside. 

It had been an odd transition for you and Tyler; going from arguing over almost every little thing to civil understanding and preference of each other. 

And it had all started weeks previously in a crappy motel room in Oklahoma. 

“I’m telling you, we’ve stayed here before. The owner hates me.” Boone said as he lifted his bag from the back of Tyler’s truck. 

“No she doesn’t.”

“She does! Man, I’m telling you, the lady hates me.”

You opened up the passenger door to Lily’s car and stepped out, laying your hand on the roof of the car. “And why would she hate you?”

Boone got a little sheepish. “I dunno. She just does.”

“Maybe because the last time we stayed here you did a cartwheel into her trash cans and woke the entire motel.” Dani pointed out. 

“It could have been raccoons.” 

Tyler laid a hand on Boone’s shoulder. “No raccoon can scream ‘help, I think I’ve made a banana split with my elbow’.”

Moving towards the office, yourself and Kate booked into the last rooms available before handing everyone their keys. There were two twin rooms so Boone and Tyler took one and Dani and Kate took the other. That left you, Lily, Dexter and Javi to the other single rooms. 

Since your room was on the second floor with Tyler, Boone and Lily; Dexter placed your bags by the bottom of the stairs. 

And Tyler was about to carry yours up when you got there before him. 

“I can carry my own.”

He lifted his hand away and picked up Lily’s instead. “Alright.”

You started making your way up the stairs, Tyler hot on your heels. “You know, it’s okay to accept help sometimes.”

“I’m aware.”

“I would have left it outside your door.”

“I don’t need your help. I can do it on my own.”

Tyler held his hands up in surrender, the bags over his shoulders. “Okay. I’m just saying I won’t hurt to just accept help every once in a while.”

You reached the top of the stairs. “But I didn’t need it. I’m a grown adult, Owens. I can carry my own stuff.”

Twenty minutes after getting settled you headed back down to the trucks and sat beside Dani and Kate. The rest of the night went as smoothly as normal. Laughter, stories, petty arguments over how to make chilli, more stories, discussions over which tornado to chase the next day, disagreements over which one to choose, shared hatred for StormPar and not wanting them to get one up on the Wranglers, a few more tales and jokes from Boone before he spotted the owner walking across the parking lot which forced him into hiding in the back of Tyler’s flatbed; all before finally going to bed. 

But as you drifted off into a seemingly dreamless sleep, there was no way to prepare yourself for what you would wake up to. 

Tyler Owens in his pajamas. 

Boone had started snoring almost the minute his head hit the pillow. Sometimes Tyler was envious of how deeply Boone could sleep. Some mornings it took both himself, Lily, Dani and you to wake him up. 

It was usually the only time in the morning where you and Tyler didn’t argue over how to wake Boone up. You’d bicker with him about being unable to wake Boone up before you’d walk into the room and realise why. 

The first time it happened, you’d both bickered in hushed tones over how best to wake him up and that maybe Tyler hadn’t tried hard enough. Then you came to an agreement. 

Dani and Lily went and grabbed a duvet and some extra sheets to lay on the floor before Tyler counted to three and lifted the mattress from underneath Boone with you. 

It was the only thing other than a true tornado siren that could wake him. 

Tyler on the other hand…he was a light sleeper compared to Boone. Though, most people would be light sleepers compared to Boone. 

Usually it took a good twenty minutes before Tyler would be able to fall asleep and if he heard anything out of the ordinary, like trash cans falling, alarms going off, doors opening or closing, or something heavy hitting the ground, he’d wake up. 

And that was why he found himself looking around his room in the darkness when he stirred awake before he heard something heavy hit the ground before a glass smashing on the ground followed it. 

It wasn’t in his room. Boone was still snoring. The lamp was still on his bedside table. The same went for Boone. 

Then something popped into his head. 

The only room he shared a wall with was yours. On the other side was just a very dense wall. 

Then in the silence, he heard a voice. Your voice. 

Whipping the bedcovers from him, he pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms and darted out of his room, trying his best to not wake Boone in the process. He couldn’t alert everyone. For all he knew you were still awake and had dropped one of the box files off your bed or something. 

But when he stood outside of your room, there was no light in the window and the curtains were drawn completely. So he knocked lightly, but you didn’t answer. But your voice was a little louder. You sounded…stressed. Panicked. 

So he tried the door handle and when it opened after the third try, he made a mental note to let the owner know the door locks were still shitty. Then he opened it up. 

You felt like your entire body was being crushed underneath the rubble you’d found yourself caught in. Children were screaming and crying for their parents, the sky just kept growing darker until the wind that was howling started roaring together like every King of the Jungle had decided to descend on a small town and take out each building that stood, one by one. 

But just as the pressure of the air started forcing your lungs to your spine, a gust of air was let into your lungs again as you shot up and found two hands on your arms. 

Your legs kicked around, trying to find familiar ground. All the while, your entire body had gone from fire hot with clammy air to freezing cold with the amount of sweat that was being attacked by fresh air. 

And just as you came to realise where you actually were, you came to recognise the voice that the extra set of hands belonged to. 

“Hey, take it easy. Take it easy, it’s me.” Tyler told you. “It’s me, it’s me, it’s me, it’s me. It’s Tyler. Look at me, it’s me. Take it easy.”

Finally setting your feet on rough carpet, your vision managed to focus in the dark and you found Tyler in his pajamas crouching on the floor in front of you. 

“Tyler?”

“Yeah,” his voice was soft as he spoke to you. “It’s me. I heard a thud. Are you okay?”

You looked at him but you couldn’t find the words to answer him. Your entire body was shaking from the shock of reality and from the nightmare you’d just been trapped inside of. 

“Sorry.” Tyler quickly apologised. “That was a stupid question. You don’t have to answer that.”

You didn’t know what to do, so you just held onto his hand. 

“You’re shaking.” Tyler whispered. “Here.” 

Standing up, he reached for the top blankets from your bed before he wrapped it around your shoulder, tucking your hair behind your ear before kneeling back on the floor. 

“Just, take some deep breaths.” Tyler took hold of both of your hands. “Follow me. In, and out. In, and out. That’s it.”

“I’m sorry.” You eventually spoke, but Tyler just looked at you both concerned and confused.

“You don’t have to be sorry for anything. Was it a nightmare?”

You swallowed thickly as you nodded. “Yeah.”

Tyler had never heard your voice as weak as it was when you said that. 

“Do they happen often?”

You shook your head before taking a deep breath and tucking your hair back behind your ear. “They used to, but I haven’t had one in a while.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head, unable to bring yourself to use words. So Tyler just nodded. “Okay. That’s okay.”

Then he went to stand and instinctively, you reached out for his hand. “Don’t…don’t leave. Not yet. Please?”

Looking up at you, Tyler’s expression softened. He could still feel your hand trembling in his, and he could see the fear in your eyes at the thought of being left alone in that moment. 

Tyler shook his head as he stood. “I’m not going anywhere. Come here.” 

Leaning up, Tyler pulled you into a hug and within an instant, you hugged him back. He could feel your fingertips making imprints in his back as you held onto him for dear life. And then he did something that he wouldn’t think about until long into the afternoon the next day. 

He pressed a kiss to your head as he leaned back before he stood and sat next to you on the bed. There, he placed a comforting arm around you as he pulled you inside his side and he pressed a small kiss to the top of your head. 

Then he saw the time on your phone where a weather warning notification popped up. 

“We should try and get some sleep. I’ll stay with you. Let me get you some water.”

You didn’t say a word, but you were thankful nonetheless. 

Tyler pressed a third kiss to your head before he stood and helped you back onto your bed where he lifted up the bed covers before letting them float back down on top of you before he moved towards the bathroom, collecting and replacing your lamp onto your bedside table and grabbing a fresh glass from the tea and coffee station on your desk. 

Tyler sat on the edge of the bed beside you as he handed you the glass which you took with a shaky hand. He took it back from you before putting it down and getting into bed beside you. 

He didn’t say anything else other than; “You’re safe.” when he clasped your hand in his between you both in your bed. 

Waking the next morning, your hand was still in his. 

“How’d you sleep?”

Looking up from where your eyes were focused on your hand in Tyler’s, a small smile gracing your face before you could stop it, you were met with Tyler. 

And, for a moment, all sense of ability to talk left you. If someone would have told you that waking up next to Tyler Owens wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, you wouldn’t have believed them. 

“Good.” You eventually answered him, your voice in a whisper. “Thank you for staying.”

Tyler just smiled. “Don’t mention it.”

You felt yourself smile before you looked away and back at your hand that was still in his. Feeling his fingers float over your skin before he pressed a small squeeze to your hand, your squeezed back. However, just as you felt yourself move closer towards Tyler, his grip getting a little steadier in your hand, a knock came to your door. 

“Y/n! Come on! You’re gonna miss it!” 

Kate’s voice rang through your room before she ran next door and banged on Boone’s door. 

“Boone! Tyler! Come on! Javi’s got a reading! Hurry!”

You and Tyler sprung from your bed and ran towards the door whilst Boone was slowly dragging himself from his bedroom, unaware that Tyler wasn’t in his room with him. 

You and Tyler squinted in the bright light of the morning before looking down the hall and seeing Boone shuffle out of his room wrapped in a blanket. “Tyler, man, Kate-” He yawned. “Kate’s calling.”

“Man, I’m here.”

Boone opened his eyes. “Oh. Kate’s calling.”

With a small sigh, you walked towards the balcony and looked over the edge. “Kate!”

She ran out from underneath it, a wide excited smile on her face. “Come on! Before we miss it!”

Both yourself and Tyler looked at each other before looking at Boone. 

“I’ve got him. Just get dressed.”

You nodded and ran back into your room, hearing Tyler force Boone back around to get dressed. Three minutes later you threw the door open just as Tyler and Boone left their room. 

“Guys! Come ON!”

“Alright, alright, we’re coming.” You said as you walked down the stairs. 

Boone yawned again. “What time is it anyway?”

Tyler looked at his dash. “A little after seven.”

“Seven?!”

Kate was rushing behind you, shoving different things into the van. “Y/n, you go with Tyler. I want to catch the data on this one.”

You didn’t have time to respond, but Tyler caught the look of growing fear in your expression. 

“It’ll be okay. You’re safe.”

Taking his word for it, you nodded before hopping into the back of his truck behind his seat whilst Boone crawled into the passenger seat, starting up the video to complain about the time of day but ultimately what they were doing. 

Kate ran past his window in a rush explaining what she and Javi had found. 

Looking in his rearview mirror, Tyler spotted you. 

“It’ll be okay. There’s a harness and-”

You looked at him and nodded. “I trust you.”

Tyler didn’t know what else to say, so he just stayed quiet and smiled. You’d never actually said those words out loud, that you trusted him. You’d also refused to go in his truck with him – even before he banned you from it. 

But he believed you. 

Because you meant it. 

If you didn’t trust him, you wouldn’t have agreed to Kate’s offer. If you didn’t trust him, you wouldn’t work with him. 

Deep down, if you didn’t trust him, you wouldn’t have asked him to stay. 

Twenty minutes later, you were all heading towards the town before taking a sharp right and heading straight towards the rolling crop fields. Then you went off road. 

It was bumpy to say the least. Shaking you all in your seats, Boone tried to get some usable footage out of it before you turned to the radio for Kate’s next instruction. 

“Watch out for a dip. Apparently one of the farmers tried to dig a mine out here.” Javi called out over the radio just before you spotted it. 

“Tyler, watch out for the dip!”

“On it.”

Turning the steering wheel, he should have avoided it. But apparently it was a lot wider than it seemed, sending you all rocking out of your seats and back again twice over. In the meantime, your hand had gone from holding onto the back of Tyler’s chair to hold you steady, to holding his shoulder to pull him back down. 

“Hold back, guys.” Tyler called out over the radio. 

“You guys okay?” Lily asked. 

“We’re fine.” Tyler lifted his hand and rested it over yours that remained on his shoulder, his thumb stroking at your knuckles. “Just shook up. Kate, you got any sign of that tornado.”

Two days later, everyone was back at Kate’s farm and you had driven home but not before leaving something by Tyler’s door. 

However, a few hours later, a familiar truck started pulling up your driveway and towards your home. 

Sitting on the porch swing, you were backlit by the warm lights of the living room lamps whilst Tyler was swimming in the blanket of the night sky and stars. 

“What are you doing out here?”

“Could ask you the same thing.” Tyler said before he stopped, six feet short of your porch. “I got your pie.”

“I made it as a thank you,” you said. “You…you didn’t have to stay when…when you did.” Your eyes fell from his gaze to your hands as you picked at your fingers. 

“You don’t have to thank me.” Tyler said as he shook his head, walking forward some more until he was walking up the steps of your porch. 

Then he leaned against the wooden pole. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You looked away again, back at your hands. “They’re nothing.”

“Y/n…” 

With a few moments of silence exchanged in between your shared look with Tyler, you eventually let that wall down. “They’re nothing big. Really. They can just be…intense?”

Tyler waited and listened to every word you wanted to say. 

“I used to get them more but in the last couple of years they’ve just been as common as regular nightmares. Just a little more intense.”

“Does anyone else know?”

You shook your head. “You’re the only one.”

“What about Kate?”

You shook your head. “No. It just…never came up. The other night was the first time it’s been like that for a while.”

“Are you sure?”

You nodded as you looked at Tyler. “It was about all of us. We got trapped by an EF-3 but it just kept growing until I was under it. When you came in, a pile of rubble had just been dropped from the tornado.”

“Does something trigger them?”

You could only shrug. “They just kinda appear on their own, I guess.”

Tyler could see the weight that you carried on your shoulders because of it. The way your entire body seemed tense whilst you tried to force it to relax. The way you picked at your fingers, trying to force away the memory of being in that nightmare. 

Looking around your land, he got an idea. 

“Come with me.”

“What?”

Tyler turned around and ran down your porch stairs. “Come on.”

“Tyler-” You had to stand to see him as he ran off back towards his truck. “What are yo- Where are you going?”

Holding something in his hand, he ran to his flatbed before running off towards the side of your house and into the grass field. 

“Just come on!”

With a small huff of curiosity and slight worry that Tyler had completely lost the plot, you ran over and followed him before you found him removing his boots and socks. 

“Tyler, what are you doing?”

“We’re dancing.”

“What?”

Tyler just held a wide grin on his face as he set the tape into the player. 

“You need to relax; get out of your head. So, we’re dancing.”

You looked down at his feet and back again. “Barefoot?”

“Are you gonna keep fighting me on this, or are you gonna join me?”

Pressing play, he turned the dial up and ran out into the grass. You had two options; leave him on his own and remain on the sidelines. Or, take your shoes and socks off and join him. 

You chose option two. 

Curling your socks up inside your shoes and leaving them by his boots, you went out into the short grass field and joined him. 

And you just…

Danced. 

Leading you in a two-step, Tyler spun you around the grass until you found yourself in a fit of giggles. You didn’t know how long you and Tyler danced, but it was long enough for the songs on his tape to transfer towards slower songs that meant you and Tyler were slow-dancing under the stars whilst barefoot in the grass. 

With one of your hands clasped in his, a hand on your waist and your hand on his arm, Tyler leaned into you. His cheek resting against your temple, you both swayed gently with the breeze all the while, blades of grass softened under your feet. 

“Tyler?”

He hummed. 

“I know you said I don’t have to thank you-”

“Y/n.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he said your name. 

You leaned back to look at him. “No, I mean it. You’re the first person to ever do this for me, and given our track record, nobody would have blamed you for ignoring me completely.”

A small smile graced his lips. “I’d never ignore you, Y/n.”

“But no one would have blamed you.”

Tyler just shook his head before turning you out and around, then pulling you back in. “If I ignored you, I’d never be able to thank you for the pie. How did you know apple was my favourite?” 

You felt yourself laugh. “Tyler, I’m being serious.”

Holding you back in his arms, Tyler nodded. “I know. But so am I. I’d never ignore you, Y/n. You’re too important to me.”

“I thought we hated each other?”

Tyler just shook his head. “I’ve never hated you, Y/n. You might have been the biggest pain in my ass for a while, but I never hated you.”

“Not once?”

“Not once,” he confirmed. 

You felt your heart sink a little with guilt. “Now I feel bad.”

Tyler just chuckled. “Don’t be. We were a thorn in each other’s side. Besides, I think it’s been giving the others some pretty good entertainment.”

“You know about Kate and Boone, too?”

Tyler gave you a confused look. “I was talking about Javi and Dexter. Wait, what happened with Kate and Boone?”

“They’ve been running some kind of bet on us for months.”

“Really?”

“You haven’t noticed?”

Tyler shook his head. “No.”

“Why do you think Kate keeps making scores in that little notebook of hers?”

“The blue one?”

You shook your head. “The brown one.” Then you remembered. “Why? What’s happening with Javi and Dexter?”

“Just whisperings. I can’t believe they’ve been keeping score.” Tyler paused for a moment. “Who do you think’s winning?”

Laughing, you pushed Tyler away before he took hold of your hands and pulled you back in with a twist. 

After that night, things started to change between you and Tyler. There were less petty arguments, but some more purposeful ones remained in order to make sure Kate was, in fact, keeping score. 

She was. 

There were also less intense glares, more silent conversations being had, even when a rodeo crowd separated you both. 

And then something else was added into the mix. 

You couldn’t quite place what it was but it was…something. Something that, each time you locked eyes with him, it made your heart jump inside your chest. Something that made you want to see his smile more, and hear his voice more. Something that made you want to be surrounded by him. 

What you didn’t know was that you weren’t alone in the feeling. 

Each time Tyler saw your smile, heard your laugh or felt your hand by his, his heart seemed to want to explode inside his chest. Of course, he wasn’t a stranger to the feeling. He’d had the same feelings for you for a while. 

The first time it happened was when he’d seen a genuine smile spread across your face when sat around the campfire by his truck when Boone was attempting to reenact Lily’s middle school cheerleading solo. 

He’d seen you smile before – though it was rare – but he’d never seen…you. In the glow of the campfire, joy in your eyes and smile, he knew he would wait a thousand lifetimes just to see you smile like that, again. 

Since dancing with you barefoot in the grass, Tyler had only seen your smile more. 

Which only made him fall faster. 

It all came to a head one evening. He’d just parked in your driveway, walking up the steps of your porch when you opened your front door with two tins of paint in your hands. 

You’d been painting your porch since the weather was nice and no storms were expected to develop over the next few days. Since he had some time free, he offered to help.

And sat on the grass, hours later, watching the clouds roll by in the sunset; your fingers and arms splattered with white paint, you and Tyler talked. 

Until, eventually, you both walked over to the tin bucket and began to wipe the paint away. 

“It’s not coming off.”

“Come ‘ere.” Tyler took your hand in his before dunking the cloth into the water and wiping away the stubborn paint on the edge of your palm. 

It was then that the world seemed to get quiet. There were no loud noises from up above, there were no incoming tornado warnings or people bustling about during the rodeo. There were no teammates trying to keep score of words or tones. 

There was just you and Tyler. 

Whether he kissed you, or you kissed him, first would be up for debate later. But until then, all you wanted was to be with him. To have his hands in yours. To have his lips on yours. To have his arms wrap around you in such a way that, for the first time, ever, you felt stable. All noise was drowned away, all worries cut their ties from your mind until all that was left was pure happiness. 

Which brought you to the moment all the Wranglers had agreed to come to your home for the day to take a break from the data, and the science. and the dragging of time being sat on the phone with different companies whose interest only ran so far into meteorology. 

“What time are they supposed to be getting here?”

You looked at the clock on your kitchen wall. “They should have been here twenty minutes ago.”

Tyler’s brow furrowed. “I’ll give them a call.”

And so he did. 

Which resulted in the Wrangler’s time of being super secret spies, being over. 

[crushpunky]

drew helps actress!reader while she’s sick

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

based on this ask. takes place jun 2019 during filming for OBX + before they started dating aka two idiots with crushes on eachother. warning: sickness, nausea, fainting

Y/n’s head felt like it was about to burst with all the pressure in her sinuses. She’d woken up to a stuffy nose and nauseous stomach, audibly groaning as she slipped out of bed. The lights seemed all too bright as she began foraging through her cabinets for a concoction of medications to hopefully dull the aches and pains that were coursing through her body. 

While most people probably would’ve called off work or went to the doctor, y/n knew she couldn’t afford to miss any time off set. She’d been lucky enough to get this job, so she knew how important this project could be to her and her future. So, y/n took a concoction of cough medicine, forced herself to drink a cup of black coffee, and took a few nibbles of toast before she drove to work.

Y/n tugged her sweatshirt closer to her body, sniffling as she made her way into the makeup trailer. As she stepped in, her hairstylists and makeup artists eyes immediately widened at her sunken eyes and disheveled hair.

“Good morning.” Y/n said as brightly as she could as she plopped into her seat. As the team got to work on making her look not so sickly, they heard a knock at the door before it flew open.

“Good morning.” Drew said as he climbed into the trailer, a wide smile on his face as he balanced two coffees in his hands. Y/n tried to suppress her smile, not wanting to crease the makeup being applied to her face, but found it difficult to do so in Drew's presence. He reached around y/n’s side before offering a coffee out to her.

“What’s this for?” Y/n chuckled slightly as she took the drink from him. She lifted the drink, noticing her exact order scribbled on the side of the cup.

“I was just getting some before I came to set and figured you’d want one.” Drew said with a shrug as he sat in the makeup chair next to her, swivelling the seat to face her. Y/n felt her cheeks warm at the gesture, taking a sip of the drink. His hair and makeup artists got to work, dusting his face with some powder and quickly running some styling gel through his unruly locks. He didn’t really need it, of course, y/n almost preferring the boyishness charm of his freshly awoken, smiley face.

 As y/n went to sit down her coffee, she let out a harsh cough, her shoulders jolting forward at the force. Drew’s brows furrowed as he watched her wipe her nose before settling back into her seat. Y/n fanned herself lightly, the lights of the room and the heat of the hairstyling tools getting to her.

“You alright?” Drew asked, his eyes gazing over her delicately.

“I’m fine. Just a cold.” Y/n said, brushing him off. As the hair and makeup team gave her the finishing touches, Drew and her chatted back and forth, laughing as they briefly went over their lines one last time.

“We need you on set in 10.” A PA said as they peeked their head into the hair and makeup trailer. Drew got up from his spot with an exaggerated groan that caused y/n to laugh before he offered his hand out to her. Y/n took it, allowing him to haul her to her feet as the two of them ventured over to the costuming trailer. They each changed into their costumes, in y/n’s case (or rather Caroline’s), a navy bikini with linen shorts and an oversized blue button down. Y/n reemerged to find Drew scrolling on his phone, dressed in an orange polo and khaki shorts, the very Rafe Cameron look tied together with a backwards hat.

“Let’s go, frat boy.” Y/n teased, Drew looking up from his phone. His eyes raked over her slowly, silently admiring the way the outfit showed off her curves and glistening skin, before he forced himself to look away.

“Frat boy?” Drew scoffed, crossing his arms across his chest in a way that made his chest and shoulders pop in an over-the-top frat boy fashion that caused y/n to laugh. Her giggle was cut off by yet another cough, which had Drew glancing over at her anxiously, just for her to brush him off again.

The two of them made their way through the country club, walking out to the patio where the bar was. The scene was fairly straightforward, another scene demonstrating the budding feelings between Caroline and Rafe. Y/n made her way to the bar, sitting atop one of the barstools as she pulled the prop drink towards her. Despite the numerous fans blowing on the set, y/n still felt terribly warm, which didn’t help the fatigue that still riddled her bones.

“Quiet on set!” One of the directors shouted out. Y/n straightened, taking a sip of the drink in front of her. It wasn’t alcohol, but the bitter liquid did help to soothe her nerves as she got into character.

“And action!” The director shouted. On cue, Drew burst onto the patio of the country club in perfectly Rafe fashion. In a second, he rushed up to the bar.

“Whiskey.” Drew grumbled, tapping his ringed fingers against the bartop impatiently. He looked around erratically, running a hand through his hair before his eyes landed on where y/n sat.

“Caroline?” Drew murmured, quirking a brow as he took the whiskey from the bartender before sidling up next to her. Y/n looked up from her drink, eyes gazing hesitantly at Drew’s flushed face.

“Hi, Rafe.” Y/n said quietly, giving Drew a small smile before she returned to absentmindedly swirling her drink.

“What, uh, what are you doing here?” Drew chuckled, scratching the back of his neck as he looked at y/n. Y/n shrugged. He peeked around her, noticing the lack of company as she perched atop her barstool.

“Alone?” Drew asked, leaning closer.

“Yep.” Y/n said, popping the “p” as she took another sip of her drink. Drew nodded, taking in a sharp breath, his eyes blown wide to demonstrate Rafe’s very high state.

“What? You don’t wanna talk to me or something?” Drew snapped. Y/n sighed, looking up at him as she bit on her bottom lip.

“No, I just…” Y/n sighed again. Caroline didn’t necessarily want to brush him off, but she hated seeing Rafe like this.

“Nah, I get it. You don’t wanna talk to me. It’s fine.” Drew chuckled, taking a sip of the whiskey before he sat down next to y/n. He leaned in, his voice dropping dangerously low.

“Y’know, believe it or not, sometimes I don’t wanna talk to people.” Drew whispered. Y/n swallowed harshly.

“It’s not… it’s not…” Y/n trailed off, her mind scrambling for the next line. Suddenly a wave of dizziness fell over her and she put the drink down. Drew furrowed his brow, watching as she began to sway slightly.

“Y/n?” Drew whispered before y/n suddenly tilted back. Drew quickly jumped to his feet, catching her before she could fall. His eyes were wide as he looked over her in a panic, her eyelids closed. 

“Cut!” The director shouted before a member of the crew rushed over. “Call a medic!”

Y/n remained in his arms as the crew member began fanning her with an extra script, his stomach churning as he lowered her still body to the ground. He could feel the sweat covering her neck as her head remained cradled in his hands. Suddenly, she began to stir, her eyes slowly fluttering open. 

“Drew…” Y/n said groggily, moving to sit up.

“No, no, let me help you.” Drew said quickly, brushing a piece of hair plastered to her forehead with sweat. He let out a sigh of relief as she blinked, gazing around slowly.

“What happened?” Y/n asked as Drew slowly helped her to sit up. He grabbed her hand, helping to guide her to rest her back against the bar.

“I, uh, I think you may have passed out.” Drew said, giving y/n a tight lipped smile. Y/n groaned, running a hand down her face. 

Just in time, the medic hurried over with her bag and a bottle of water. She asked y/n a barrage of questions while encouraging her to continue drinking water. Next to her, Drew found himself listening intently, the medic’s words helping to soothe some of his worries.

“It looks like you’re probably dehydrated.” The medic said, handing y/n a granola bar. “The heat mixed with your cold and your lack of breakfast probably also contributed.”

Y/n sighed, feeling embarrassed that she’d caused such a scene in front of everyone… or in front of someone in particular.

“I’m not gonna say you’re out for the day, but you need to take a break and get some food and water in you.” The medic said, packing up her bag, leaving y/n and Drew. Y/n turned to look at him, his eyes trained firmly on her. Feeling the weight of his gaze, she looked down, only to notice their hands were still intertwined. Following her eyes, Drew looked down to notice his grasp on her remained firm.

“S– Sorry.” Drew stammered, quickly removing his hand from hers. Y/n watched as Drew’s cheeks blushed brightly, a slight fluttering in her stomach making itself known.

“You’re fine.” Y/n said with a slight chuckle. She took a bite of her granola bar, trying to suppress a smile. The two of them sat in silence for a moment, Drew gazing at y/n’s profile as she chewed until she cleared her throat.

“Thanks for catching me.” Y/n whispered, looking up at Drew.

“Of course.” Drew murmured, a smirk spreading across his lips. “Anytime.”

[greengoblinswifey]

Shattered— Nicholas Chavez x Actress!Reader

summary— you’re an actress on the brink of fame and you fall for your co-star Nicholas Chavez. discovering his secret coupled with your unexpected pregnancy changes your entire dynamic.

warnings— cheating, mentions of infertility, mature language, grief and loss, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of unprotected sex, abortion, manipulation.

a/n— kinda long but i’m a slut for angst, also this is all just my imagination and fantasy, it’s not based on nicholas irl <3

Alternative Ending

From the very first time you got an acting role, your manager told you, never engage in relations with your co stars. Looking down at the two positive pregnancy tests on the counter, you wished you had taken heed to her wise words.

You and Nicholas had been thrown into the spotlight together, both relatively new to the fame game. As co-stars, you’d developed a chemistry that felt electric, especially during your lovey-dovey scenes on camera.

As the filming progressed, those on-screen moments started to seep into your off-screen life. You’d find yourselves stealing kisses between takes, getting lost in long conversations about everything from your childhood dreams to your favorite late-night snacks. It was easy to forget that this was just work. You felt like you knew each other inside out.

One evening, after a particularly long day, you were in your trailer, and the laughter just flowed. “I really like this,” Nicholas said, leaning closer, his eyes locked onto yours. “It feels special, you know?”

You nodded, heart racing. “Yeah, it does. I’m just scared of what happens after this season wraps. Will we still have this?”

Nick brushed a thumb across your cheek, his gaze intense. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise I’ll always be here.”

You couldn’t help it; you leaned in and kissed him, the connection between you two crackling like electricity. Everything felt perfect in that moment, but in the back of your mind, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

What were you missing? Why did he keep his life back home so close to his chest?

As your days turned into nights filled with mind blowing sex, you tried to enjoy every second, but the nagging doubt wouldn’t disappear. You were falling for him, and you wondered if he felt the same way, or if this was just a fun distraction for him.

As filming continued, he made sure to keep the relationship casual, reassuring you that it was all good between you two. “You know I care about you, right?” he’d say between takes, pulling you close, his lips pressing against your forehead, “But a public relationship? It might restrict me from getting certain roles.” You nodded, wanting to be supportive. After all, you understood the pressure of the industry. But deep down, a nagging thought lingered, was there more to it than that?

Still, you brushed off your doubts. You were wrapped up in the excitement of your new life, enjoying every moment of intimacy with Nicholas, nights spent tangled in sheets, whispering sweet nothings, and experiencing a side of Hollywood that felt like a dream. There were moments when he’d use condoms, and others when he’d pull out, but you never worried about getting pregnant. You knew you were infertile, and that fact brought you a strange sense of comfort.

During one of your casual conversations, you mentioned your part-time passion for photography. Nick lit up at the idea, and you quickly arranged for him to meet a photographer friend of yours who worked for magazines. “I’ll be sure to use them,” he said, his tone light. You didn’t think much of it, just a favor for a friend.

Then came the twist, Nick’s character was off the show for a few episodes. He returned to his hometown, and suddenly, the set felt empty without him. You missed him deeply, especially because you’d been feeling under the weather lately. The sickness hung over you, but you knew he needed a break so you didn’t bother him in staying.

As the days went by, his texts became infrequent. You found yourself wondering if something was wrong. Maybe he was just busy? Maybe he was having fun back home? And then, you noticed your period was late. You weren’t scared per se, you remembered the infertility diagnosis, but something felt off.

In a moment of playful distraction, you called your sister. “I’m late,” you joked, half-laughing. “Maybe I should take a pregnancy test?” She encouraged you, laughter spilling over the phone, making it feel lighthearted.

You picked up two tests from the store, ensuring they weren’t expired. When you took the tests, you expected nothing. But to your shock, both tests came back positive.

The laughter faded, replaced by disbelief. You dropped the phone, feeling a wave of panic crash over you. Pregnant? How could this happen? You were still so new in your career, and Nicholas. How would you even tell him? Would he be happy? He had dreams to chase, and now there was a little life to consider.

Your mind raced with possibilities and worries. You knew you needed to talk to Nicholas but the fear of how he’d react was large. You’d built something beautiful, but this was a twist neither of you had planned.

The days dragged on as you tried to process everything. You took a few days to cool off, completely unsure how to proceed. The set was chaotic, your mind was racing while you were trying to act normal. Multiple takes of one scene felt like torture, especially when you had to run off to throw up in between. The directors were patient, but you could sense their frustration growing. You felt guilty, this pregnancy wasn’t their fault, and yet you were struggling to keep it together.

Just two days before Nicholas was set to return, the chaos hit a new level. You received a message from the photographer you had linked Nicholas with. “Check out how cute your co-star looks with his girlfriend!” it read, accompanied by a series of images. You froze as you opened the photos. There he was, Nicholas, beaming in a pregnancy announcement photoshoot with a woman. A woman who was his girlfriend.

Shock coursed through you as confusion and anger collided. Your heart sank, it felt like a punch to the gut. You hadn’t taken any photos with Nicholas, and now you realized why he had been so secretive about his life outside of filming. He was expecting a baby with her. You wanted to scream, shout, break things, or blow up his phone. But instead, you just sat there, staring blankly at the screen, tears streaming down your face.

You ran to the trailer bathroom, clutching your stomach as nausea washed over you. You felt it to your core, the reality of your situation was devastating. He had been playing you both, living a lie, and now here you were, grappling with the knowledge that your pregnancy was based on deception.

Days passed like a blur. You did your best to get through filming, but every time you returned to your trailer, the reality of the life growing inside you became unbearable. You would throw up and clutch your stomach, feeling the weight of what was supposed to be a beautiful moment turned sour by lies.

Finally, the day arrived when Nicholas returned to set. He burst into your trailer, the energy in the room instantly shifting. “I missed you!” he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around you and planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. But you just sat there, staring blankly at him, the pregnancy tests in hand, proof of the life you were now burdened with.

He pulled back, looking at you with concern. “What’s wrong?”

The words caught in your throat. You were ready to confront him, ready to expose the web of lies. But all you could manage was a shaky breath, your heart racing in your chest as you prepared for the storm ahead.

With shaky hands, you thrust the pregnancy tests into Nicholas’s face, your heart pounding. “Here.”

He looked at the tests, confusion swirling in his eyes. “W-what? What the fuck is this. Is this… are you pregnant?” The realization hit him hard, and you could see the panic creeping in.

“Yeah, I am!” you shot back, your voice rising.

“Fucking hell!” he shouted, “my- my fucking career is just taking off, I’m filming a show, this- this wasn’t supposed to get this far.”

“Are you hearing yourself?” You couldn’t believe the things he was saying. “My career is just taking off, I’m filming a show too Nicholas.”

His expression shifted, the initial panic giving way to something more defensive. “I can’t handle this right now! My career is just starting, and I didn’t want to be tied down like this.”

Anger bubbled up inside you, boiling over like a volcano. You could sense the manipulation in his tone, the way he was shifting the blame onto you. “It’s always about you, isn’t it?” you yelled, pushing him away. “You’re just thinking about yourself!”

He reached for you, attempting to pull you back into his embrace, whispering, “It’s going to be okay. We’ll figure this out.” But you shoved him off, your emotions raw and unfiltered.

“Figure this out?” you screamed, your voice echoing in the small trailer. “How can you say that when you’re two-timing? Look at these!” You threw your phone at him, the pregnancy announcement photos landing in his lap. His face twisted with fury.

“Are you serious right now?” he shouted, his anger igniting. “I made a mistake with one of them! It wasn’t supposed to go this far! We’re filming a show together; I can’t just drop everything!”

You stared at him in disbelief. “You’re not the Nicholas I thought I knew. How can you act like this? You’re a fucking two-faced liar, sleeping with two girls and getting both of us pregnant!”

He raked a hand through his hair, his expression a mix of frustration and despair. “I can’t do this. Not now. You need to- you need to get an abortion.”

The words hung heavy in the air, crashing down around you. You looked at him, heart sinking, disbelief coursing through you. “Are you serious? You want me to end this?”

Nicholas looked away, the weight of his own choices crashing down on him. But it was too late, the damage had been done.

Nicholas’s voice was cold and detached. “Yes, I want you to get an abortion. I’ll give you money for it. You need to have it gone by tonight.”

You felt your heart shatter all over again. “How can you refer to our baby as ‘it’?” The bitterness in your voice was undeniable.

He shrugged, pacing the small trailer. “I don’t know what an abortion can do to your body, but you’ll need time to rest. What are you going to tell production?”

You shook your head in disbelief. “I don’t know either! But how can you be so heartless?”

“Listen I can’t deal with this, I have a girlfriend and a baby on the way,” he muttered, lowly.

You couldn't take it anymore. “No! I am your girlfriend! WE have a baby on the way, or at least I thought I was your girlfriend!”

Nicholas stopped pacing, his expression a mixture of guilt and confusion. He ran a hand over his face, clearly overwhelmed.

“This isn’t how it was supposed to be,” he muttered, unsure of what to say next.

Then, as if the weight of the world was pressing down on him, he turned and left the trailer without another word, leaving you alone in the silence.

You hugged yourself tightly, tears streaming down your cheeks. The reality of your situation crashed down on you. You felt utterly lost, your heart aching for the life you once envisioned, now shattered.

That night, you lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, your mind spiraling as you weighed your options. If you kept the baby, everything would change. Your career, just beginning to gain traction, would be stalled indefinitely. You’d be a single mother, left alone to care for a child Nicholas had already written off. And as a man, he’d be fine. Even with two babies on the way, he wouldn’t be the one carrying or caring for them.

On the other hand, if you didn’t keep it, you weren’t even sure if you’d get another chance. The thought tore at you, but you knew what the world would say. They’d call you a homewrecker, maybe even try to destroy your reputation, and all without knowing the truth. It would be you, bearing the weight of his lies.

Finally, with a heavy heart, you booked the appointment for the next morning. You went alone, tears streaming down your face as you went through it, feeling each moment echo in the hollow of your chest. By the time filming started later that day, you were late, your spirit shattered.

Nicholas spotted you as soon as you walked onto set. He approached, his voice low, but his eyes sharp. “Is it done?”

You nodded, feeling a hollow ache that reached all the way down to your bones. You could barely look at him, but when you did, all you felt was disgust. He added, as if it was some minor detail, “Don’t even think of reaching out to my girlfriend.” You couldn’t believe how cold he’d become, as if you were nothing more than a piece of his past.

Then the call for your scene echoed across the set, and you took your place opposite him. It was a romantic moment, a kiss, meant to be tender and full of passion. But when his lips touched yours, it felt like everything was wrong. The kiss was forced, awkward, each movement filled with a desperation neither of you could hide.

When the director called, “Cut,” you pulled away and fled, barely making it to your trailer before the tears began to flow. Just hours ago, you were carrying his child. Now, all that remained was an empty ache and a broken heart. In some twisted way, you felt almost relieved that you no longer had a part of him inside you. And yet, the loss left you feeling like a shell of who you once were.

A few days after the procedure, you felt like you had nothing left of him. Nothing to show for the life you’d once carried, the part of him that had been yours alone. He had been such a huge part of your life just days before, and in mere hours, that illusion had shattered completely.

The filming continued, and soon the news of his pregnancy announcement with his girlfriend went public. You watched as the set was buzzing with congratulatory wishes for him. Everyone beamed at Nicholas, showering him with smiles and words of celebration. Meanwhile, you did your best to hold yourself together, concealing the sadness that now rested in the hollow of your heart.

When the season finally wrapped, the months that followed became a time of rebuilding. You put everything into healing, into rediscovering yourself. By the premiere night, you were the picture of poise and confidence, draped in a red dress that turned heads. When you stepped onto the red carpet, even Nicholas did a double take, momentarily caught off guard by your transformation.

After the red carpet, he approached, offering a hollow smile. “So, how are you feeling? I just need to know, it’s really done, right?” He hesitated, glancing around, and added, “I heard sometimes fetuses survive abortion…”

The audacity of his words made you sick. Anger sparked in you, and you hissed, barely holding back your rage. “Yes, Nicholas. Our baby is dead. Thanks to you.” You were barely a few weeks along so you wouldn’t have considered it a baby but you wanted to say anything to knock him down.

As the night continued, you managed to keep your composure, even when his pregnant girlfriend approached you with a sweet smile, chatting as if you hadn’t unknowingly been fucking her boyfriend raw. All the while, Nicholas hovered nearby, his eyes sharp, ensuring you didn’t let anything slip. You walked away feeling relief. He’d no longer have a hold on you.

The following months brought a fresh start. You threw yourself into work, your career skyrocketing as you landed a massive film role. Meanwhile, Nicholas seemed to fade from the spotlight, mostly at home with his girlfriend, waiting for their baby. Until, finally, karma came for him, an article revealed that the child he thought was his was actually someone else’s, belonging to a rockstar his girlfriend had left him for.

You couldn’t help the satisfaction that spread through you. He’d reaped exactly what he’d sown, and you hadn’t lifted a finger.

The Oscar nomination was the pinnacle of your success, and the night of the awards ceremony arrived. To your surprise, Nicholas showed up, desperate to find you. He cornered you at last, offering a string of apologies and congratulations, asking for another chance now that he was alone. But you saw through him, his desire was only to latch onto your newfound fame. You looked him in the eyes, remembering everything he’d put you through. He had destroyed you, once. But you had risen again, and he was nothing to you now.

Without a word, you turned and walked away, leaving him to watch as you went forward, leaving him in the past for good.

[winterdeepelegy]

Vanilla Gpose Tips

I get asked occasionally how I make my screenshots if I'm not using shaders or mods. The short answer: Patience. Gpose's suite of tools is a lot more robust than it used to be when it was first released. But if you want a screenshot to really shine without using third party add-ons, it's not something you can just go into gpose, take a printscreen and get back out. You might capture a moment with nice lighting that way, but it takes more than that. 1. Choosing a location and time of day is job one. What kind of mood are you trying to convey? Does your intended screenshot have a theme (or a prompt?) or are you just looking at your new glam and marveling at how fine your character looks in it? Does a lighter or darker setting suit the character better? Setting, time of day, and weather can affect this. 2. You can stop time and weather from changing. I keep this on by default because it can take upwards of 30 minutes IRL to fine tune a screenshot. The middle button below. Make sure it's highlighted.

3. Toggle battle effects on/off. It's the button right next to the time/weather stop, the icon of the guy holding the sword. If the icon is highlighted as it is in the screenshot, your battle effects are on. If you want to capture pure motion and not worry about battle effects, turn this off. 4. Wet effect. Use it, use it, use it. It doesn't just make clothes look wet and make skin glossy, it actually helps to bring out texture and detail on the character's outfit. Especially since the graphics updates in 7.1. I've found it also adds shine to hair and can help the eyes stand out more.

5. Sticker Mode. Yes, there are oodles of cute minion stickers, flags, and numbers, but there are also some great effects to be found in the Decorations category! Sparkles and twinkles, lens flare, among other things can help enhance metallic points on a glamour, AND they can be resized! So if you want a more subtle twinkle on the edge of your spectacles or earrings, you can tilt and downsize your desired sparkle. There are also cute flowers and hearts. 6. Quick Keys. If you're playing on a keyboard, the 1 on your top number row freezes the screenshot. This is extremely helpful if you're trying to catch a battle emote right at a specific moment. If you miss it, keep trying because emotes will continue to cycle until you change them. R and Scroll Lock will both hide/unhide the gpose controls. X will turn on lighting. Space Bar will toggle your character to stop them from facing the camera and vice versa. 7. Lighting Intensity is Dependent on Distance. The closer you're zoomed in on your character, the brighter the light is going to be when you turn it on. Try adjusting your zoom in or out and toggling the light to see if the illumination is to your liking. You can also adjust the RGB on the lights to fit the mood/environment. I also recommend turning on Manual Brightness. 8. Color Filter and Screen Effect. These two features, in my opinion, require the most patience. Not every color filter and screen effect will work well together in every scenario. Click through and preview all of them in your screenshots and see if some SE's work better with your preferred CF. You might find an unexpected combination that you love. Trailer and Echo color filters are great for flashbacks (no one uses Aetherometer, it's an eye bleeder). Use the Pencil or one of the monochrome CFs and Noise 2 SE to create a nice black and white film or photo effect. 9. Frames. Frames are one of the more limited features and not always needed in order to capture a great screenshot. Action poses benefit from the Cinema frames, however, while more lighthearted moments play well with the photo options.

10. Emotes. Before you enter Gpose, be sure to /groundsit to clear your most recent emotes. Summoning mounts and minions also count as emotes for the sake of Gpose. By the same token, you can use battle abilities before entering Gpose, and this is what it will cycle through. You can't activate a battle ability while IN Gpose. You will have access to all of your non-battle emotes and facial expressions, though. You can combine any emote with any facial expression by choosing the action first, and expression second, so you can /prettyplease and /awe at the same time to make your character look hilariously horrified. If you enter Gpose with an active battle ability, you can still apply a facial expression to it from within the tool. 11. Bits and Bobs. Enable Manual Focus and Depth of Field will help bring out the details of the background more, and will help to make a more cohesive screenshot. Manual Focus is great if you want your character in the frame, but you want to shift the focus elsewhere, to an object or another person in the background for example. In the same menu where you'll find emotes, click the second eye button to "Track Camera". Your character's eyes will follow the position of the camera. Lastly, again, have patience. Allow yourself time to play with all the tools Gpose has to offer. You're probably not going to get the winning screenshot after clicking Printscreen just one time, you should take multiple shots from different angles with different lighting and effects, then compare them all and pick the ones you like best. And remember, even if it's the true endgame, it's not a competition. Your screenshots are not "worse" or "boring" just because you're not using third party tools. I look forward to seeing what you create, and you should too.

[anjelicawrites]

Paring: Lestat de Lioncourt x reader

Synopsis: sick and tired as you are of Lestat’s treatment you decide to put your situationship on hold, until he comes for you. Inspired by the SDCC trailer.

Warnings: toxic relationship, kissing, p in v sex, blood drinking, biting, choking, clit pinching, edging, violence, butchering of the French language.

A/N: reader is AFAB. They/them pronouns used, but French is a gendered language, which forces me to decline the adjectives as feminine whenever Lestat uses them when referring to reader.

The bustling in the dressing room is doubled by the fact that there’s no space to move; the concert is due to start in no time and you are all still running about, trying to prepare the man of the hour, the rock star the people in the arena are cheering, whose name they’re screaming at the top of their lungs: The Vampire Lestat. The one and only.

NSFW and 18+ only please!

Your current walking, not breathing headache. The undead man you’re trying to ignore with all your might.

You had asked a colleague to do his hair and makeup these last few nights, even though you’re supposed to be his personal stylist, and threw yourself into working with the rest of the band as a revenge for the way he’s been treating you lately; you know you’re on borrowed time, that he’s letting you give him the cold shoulder that, if he truly wanted, you’d be still working on him, whether you liked it or not.

You almost crash in one of the documentary crew people: they swarm everywhere and are always in everyone’s general space, filming and asking questions. You try to lay low, do your job and then hide until the next concert, yet you feel like the journalist, Daniel Molloy, has his eyes trained on you behind his tinted glasses, and you don’t like it: Lestat has a rabid fanbase, if anyone had the inkling he’s fucking you (because to call whatever it is what you two have a ‘relationship’ would be an exaggeration), you’d have no peace.

Lestat has been a menace, more than his usual self, during rehearsal and in his dressing room, unhappy with the various options for the Halloween concert, changing his outfits too many times and now your colleagues are in a hurry to prepare him, hence why you’re here instead on your perch backstage, ready to do touch ups in between songs.

You ignore his stunning eyes as you bend to finish applying the last layer of powder on his forehead and nose.

“Ma choue.”

You can hear is deep voice in your head, almost snapping the small brush in a half in annoyance: he knows you hate it when he calls you ‘my cabbage’, it makes your blood boil that it’s supposed to be a term of endearment; who, in their right mind would call someone at least dear to them ‘cabbage’? Might as well call them ‘lettuce’ or ‘ tomatoes’!

“Tu me manques.” He continues, his face not betraying any emotion, while his hand moves sneakily to caress the inside of your tight; in your head his voice has taken that low timbre of when he’s deep inside of you, fighting his orgasm.

“Would that be all, Mr. De Lioncourt?” You ask, coldly, moving away from his grasp. “You don’t look like you need me.”

Your words echo his when he dismissed you, not longer than a week ago, right before the first day of shooting.

As used as you are to his mercurial moods, that day you were already angry with him, his careless words were the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back and made you decide to put whatever the two of you have going on (“Still better than Twilight” a voice in your head keeps telling you) on an indefinite hold or, as indefinite as he’ll decide it’s going to be.

Before leaving for the backstage, you let one single thought ring through your mind, positive as you are that he’s listening:

“Fuck you Lestat! The only thing you miss is my blood!”

To everyone else his face betrays no emotion, you’re used to read in between the lines with him and the twitch of his mouth tells you there’s going to be hell to pay: you’ll burn that bridge when you’ll get there, if ever, now it’s your time to be an asshole, and have fun while you’re at it.

You run into the dressing room swearing under your breath: how in the name of all is holy and sacred you forgot one of the foundation sponges here? You didn’t even use it on Lestat!

In a hurry you start rummaging through all the crap and garbage your colleagues and Molloy’s crew have left around: between your crazy work hours and the concerts dates being so close to one another, you don’t have the time to buy a new one and you find yourself hunting for this stupid one that’s finished God only knows where.

“Looking for this, ma choue?”

You turn around too fast, whipping the muscles of your neck painfully to look at Lestat, who has closed, and locked, the door behind his back and is leaning against it, pink sponge in his hand.

You know he’s fresh off the stage after the third encore, the pinkish red of perspiration is staining the dying makeup and collar of his elaborate shirt.

“I should have known you had taken it.” You growl back.

“What should a man do when he’s been ignored?” He says nonchalantly. “You left me with no choices, ma belle.”

Instinctively you start looking for a way out of the small room, knowing all too well there’s only the door, and that he stands on your pathway out of here and towards the safety of your hotel room.

“Perhaps, a man, should ask himself why he’s been ignored.”

You square your shoulders, yet your insecurity is betrayed when you start pinching the inside of your right arm, where he’s first bitten you.

The wound has healed nicely, the scar remains, too small to be truly noticed if not for the constant redness of your picking at the skin there.

You remember when he first drank from you, so many months ago when you still believed the whole ‘Vampire Lestat’ persona was just a stage play; he had looked at you with those eyes, mesmerizing, whose color you couldn’t truly name, making you feel like a lamb would in front of a hungry wolf, right before gently grabbing your uncovered arm to bite the delicate skin and drink enough blood to make you feel dizzy on your feet.

“And what did a man do?” He asks, advancing like the predator he is, as if he owns the room hell! The entire building.

You try to stand your ground, shoulders squared, legs firmly planted on the floor: the bridge is here, you might as well go down swinging.

“Oh, I don’t know, treat me like a blood bag and demean me in front of the cameras?”

Two days before your personal bombshell, he had complimented the taste of your blood, and responded a second too late, when you had bluntly asked if he looked at you like he would a steak, then the whole ‘Do I look like I need you?’ incident had happened: the proverbial icing on the cake.

To be absolutely clear, you don’t expect anything from him that is not great sex (narcissist or not, he knows how to show you a good time and not having to breathe to live helps when you’re going down someone) and a bit of consideration.

“Oh, that.” He stands in front of you, impossibly tall, cutting off any escape route. “Would you like me to apologize publicly? Perhaps in front of the crowd tomorrow?” He mocks you.

And you fall for it: hook, line and sinker.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” You growl, invading his personal space, as if you’d ever pose a threat for him.

In a second you find yourself against the wall, arms stretched over your head, your work bag on the floor.

“What would you do, ma choue, how would you stop me?”

You’re so angry you’d kill him with your mind, if only you could!

Uselessly you try to kick him, squirming in his light hold, until he’s plastered against you with your legs around his trim hips.

“Let me go, now!”

That wins you a laugh, a low rumble against your chest: he knows that you know that he loves when you fight back, that your fascination with him doesn’t stop your fiery spirit to burn bright, like a light in the darkness.

“Why would I do such a thing?” His lips leave butterfly kisses all over your pulse point. “After scheming to have you here. That would be most stupid, wouldn’t it?”

Slowly, seductively, his hips grind against yours, his erection already pushing against your core, almost forcing a wail of need from your lips: even angry you missed the liquid need pooling in your belly as soon as your bodies are near, how his touch would ignite your desire and burn any reasoning to keep him away.

“I hate you so much!” And you both know is a lie.

“Then why can I smell how ready you are for me, ma petite?”

You let your head slam against the wall, baring your neck to his fangs, now tracing a path of goosebumps leading to your collarbone and heaving breasts.

You squirm against him, not trying to evade him, but because you need him desperately: you want to tear his clothes off his body and fuck your rage and pent up desire until you are both spent on the filthy carpet of the dressing room.

The words almost leave your mouth, when knocking on the door, followed by the voice of your fellow make up artist stops you, and him.

“Are you coming or not?” She asks from the corridor. “I need to shower! Come on!”

“I’m on my way!” You shout back, your desire retreating as your brain reminds you of the way he’s been treating you.

Lestat eyes you with a smirk on his lips; for a moment you think he’ll not let you go and blow your illicit relationship for the whole crew to see. His eyes seem to shine as he stares into yours, searching, searching as you wonder, again, what color they truly are.

“Saved by the bell.” He murmurs in your ear, letting your shaky legs off from around his hips. “Off you go, ma petite lapinou. You’re not going to be as lucky the next time.”

You’re still trembling as you grab your bag and rush to your friend, cursing yourself for being so weak in your resolve.

As per your contract you, and the other two make up artists, are supposed to share the hotel room to kill the costs for the whole production; the rest of the crew does the same, while the actual band members have rooms for their own, usually in a better hotel than the one chosen for you all.

The wandering life you have all chosen has changed those plans: in fact you have the hotel room all for yourself, since one colleague is in a committed relationship with one of the sound technicians (they always crash together), the other is in a situationship with a girl from Molloy’s crew; the relationship is even more toxic than whatever you have going on with Lestat, yet the two always bunk down together.

You don’t mind having all the space, and the bathroom for yourself: you love the quiet after a concert and before you are all on the road again.

You exit the bathroom, your skin still warm after the shower. You hear the TV on in the background, not giving it much attention: it’s just white noise to keep you company as you dry your hair and decide what to wear to go out with some colleagues.

“Now, what is this?”

You screech in surprise and almost slip on your ass.

“Are you out of your fucking mind? Why are you here?! I’m naked!”

Lestat looks at you from the armchair where he’s sitting, long legs encased in skin fitting leather and a white shirt half unbuttoned to showcase the hard planes of his chest you’re trying very hard not to ogle.

“You haven’t answered my question, ma petite lapinou.”

He’s holding your Taylor Swift pink T shirt, showing it to you with a frown on his brow.

Him and Taylor, better, the respective fan bases have this crusade going on, sniping at each other: the swifties being absolutely rabid whenever one of Lestat’s songs is higher in the charts or his tours sold out faster than hers. Taylor has published another remastering of her latest album and Lestat responded with new songs that beaten her to the top: it’s an ongoing messy feud and Lestat loves throwing jabs at her and her fans in his interviews. Thank God he has no control over his X and Instagram accounts.

All of this considered, you bought it before your fallout with him, as a prank: you thought about appearing in his hotel room clad only in that to see how he would react, and reap the benefits. You deciding to withdrew from the ‘relationship’ killed that idea; you have been using it to sleep.

“It’s a T shirt.” You answer.

“That I can see.” He says reigning in his annoyance at your pretend ignorance. “I have never pegged you as a fan of mademoiselle Swift.”

“With the things you don’t know about me, you could build a ladder from here to the moon.” You shrug your shoulders, hoping he’s not snooping in your mind right now.

He throws the T shirt in the general direction of the bed and spreads his legs even more, the outline of his bulge clear against the tight fitting leather.

“Going somewhere, ma petite?”

His voice is a low rumble that goes straight to your core.

“Yeah.” You feign indifference. “Out with some people, have fun. I have decided I’m going to play drunk trick or treat.”

He’s not wearing any makeup now, he looks like a carved marble statue come to life, yet you can see curiosity etched on his beautiful, alien features.

“I am not, comment tu le dis, privy to this particular brand of trick or treating.”

You tighten the towel around your head, you’re going to need it.

“It’s pretty simple, actually. I go out, get drunk and fuck the first person I meet. Having an orgasm, finally, is going to be my treat. It has been too long.”

In a heartbeat you find yourself slammed against the wall. You should be used to his inhuman speed, yet he’s managed to knock the breath out of your lungs again.

Your ears are ringing, the towel having done a poor job at shielding your head from a hard knock against the wall: one of these days you’ll get a concussion. How fucked up is it that you’re accepting your fate so calmly?

Your vision swims as your eyes try to focus on his face, now contorted in rage: Take that asshole, you think.

“Who would be the lucky candidate, ma petite?” He growls, his hand finding home around your throat. “Perhaps one of Molloy’s subordinates? Or one of the sad men drinking themselves in an early grave in the hotel lobby?”

“Anyone would do.” You spat back, despite the pressure of his hand. “You wouldn’t know how to find my clit with two hands, a flashlight and a neon sign pointing at it!”

For a second his hold is too tight, cutting off your air supply completely: is this how you die?

The thought flies out of your head when you find yourself on the bed, coughing and trying to absorb as much air as your poor lungs can manage, Lestat between your splayed legs: you have gotten to him, to his pride and possessiveness. Revenge tastes so sweet, knowing you can slither under his skin the same way he does with you.

“Ouch!” You whine when he strips you of the towels, uncaring of the cotton burning your skin.

“Two hands, a flashlight and a neon sign, is that what you said ma belle pute?”

You try to push him away, fruitlessly: he’s far too heavy and strong for you, even if he were a human man, yet you trash under him and try to go for his eyes, like a cat, until two of his long fingers pinch your clit cruelly.

You cry out in pain, arching under him in the vain attempt to escape your punishment.

“I hate you so fucking much! I wish I could put a stake through your heart and see you die!”

He doesn’t move for a second; he truly seems a marble statue, Bernini’s masterpiece, betrayed by the shining of his eyes.

You scream when his fangs pierce the delicate skin of your neck, and his cock slams into you.

The pleasure is a wave that engulfs you and your senses. You don’t know where you are, who you are, you’re only feeling his heart beating to the rhythm of yours as his hips meet yours, again and again, fast and hungry in the desperate pursuit of his own end.

You can’t plant your feet on the mattress, too taken by the impossible high you’re experiencing, all of your senses drunk on him and on the pleasure burning through you, the tight band in your belly snapping, forcing another scream from your lips.

You whine when his fangs leave your neck.

Through the roaring of your own blood in your ears, you can ear his moans of pleasure when the pain of your nails in his back finally register in his brain. Through hooded eyes you look at his beautiful face, now marred by the red of your blood, his pupils so enlarged you can’t see the color of the iris.

He’s still hard inside of you, not pounding away anymore his hips have taken a sensual, slow rhythm, meant to savor the warmth your body provides.

He kisses you when you try to say his name, your taste, metallic and heady in your mouth, pushes you into a frenzy he doesn’t let you follow, forcing you to go slow and feel the way he owns your body.

You arch your spine when he starts kissing your neck and chest, unhurried and possessive, his cockhead finding your G spot to bully it again, to feel your walls clamp again around his erection, too slow to throw you into the throes of another orgasm but enough to keep you on the razor’s edge, your moans and keens music to his ears.

You buck under his weight when his skilled fingers find your center again, massaging your bud with slow, deliberate motions.

“Two hands.” He groans after a vicious push. “A flashlight and a neon sign, n'est-ce pas? Then why are you moaning, ma belle?”

You grab his arms, needy and desperate for the end he’s denying you, embarrassed by the squelching sounds your cunt makes around his cock.

“Anyone would do.” He spats in your face, pinching your clit cruelly, to enjoy your whines of pain and how your body squirms under his.

You want to beg for mercy, scream how sorry you are but his devious fingers have rendered you speechless and thoughtless, mad for an orgasm he’s denying you with a cruel smile.

His forehead meets yours, now that the pace is slow. He’s switched to French without truly realizing what he’s doing, too lost in feeling your muscles clench and massage his cock: he’s missed your body, something you must never know.

His tongue finds the bites on your neck, licking lazily at the blood still spilling as his hips pick up the pace again, grinding cruelly against your puffy clit, drunken words of appreciation fall from his lips when your cunt wounds so tightly around his cock, forcing him in deeper and deeper, the fullness blanking your mind to his words and to the world around you.

You shatter like crystal again, forcing him over the edge as well, your combined screams of pleasure reverberating against the cheap walls, his breaking the table lamp on the desk.

Your cunt milks him of all he can give and robs him of his strength; it’s a miracle he manages to pull out and fall by your side, unfocused eyes trained on the chipped ceiling.

You hear him stretch luxuriously next to you as you try to find the strength to go to the bathroom and deal with the mess of blood and semen he’s left on your body.

Your legs wobble when you stand and the room spins as you bend to retrieve your Taylor Swift T shirt fallen on the floor, after your ‘activities’; you hear him say something in French, his voice a low purr and you can feel his eyes trained on your naked arse.

“Shall I remind you I have taken Spanish in high school?” You say, wobbling to the bathroom as you feel his come slide down your legs, ignoring how he grabs his shirt to wipe the excess of blood on his face.

When you come back he’s still laying in bed, smoking, arms spread on the headboard as if he owns the place.

“This place is horrible.” He says, as if you had chosen it yourself. “Sincèrement affreux."

“Your tour manager picks the place for us, which means that you did.” You retort, sliding in bed to put your head on his naked shoulder. “This one isn’t so bad. The clown themed one was worse.”

“Clown themed?”

He wants to know more, but you’re already asleep, out like a light; he can hear the whooshing of your blood through your veins, now that your heartbeat has calmed into your usual tattoo.

Without waking you up, he kills his smoke and tries to make himself comfortable on the lumpy mattress: perhaps that’s why you have been in such a bad mood lately. He will look into it as soon as he wakes up from his slumber: he’s going to be famished and his tour managed looks delicious.

[briseroyawritingsblog]

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒈𝒏𝒆 𝒅𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒔 — 🥂

𝒉𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒙 𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

• +18 minors do not interact. unprotected sex, mutual feelings, mutual pinning, public sex, kissing, etc.

divider by the talented @anitalenia 🎀

𝒉𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒋𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 / 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

This was your first official movie. You’ve been filming for it non stop, the scenes needed to be redone and you just couldn’t keep up anymore. The stress has gotten to you, and you needed to rewind. Hugh has been nothing but supportive, always praising how good of a job you did on the day and how proud he was of you. Today… it’s been different. It’s been only you and hugh and the filming crew. It was a bathroom scene where your character has been crying and Hugh’s character as your ‘boyfriend’ he was going to come in and comfort you. Hugh improvised on the scene, offering that the characters could get closer. The script originally said that the intimate parts should’ve happened at the beginning of the movie but you two changed it a little bit. As your character started to break down in the bathroom, your official feelings and emotions came to the surface and those tears which streamed down your cheeks were not only because of the camera in your face. It was real… you needed a break from the shooting. Crying out loud, heavily you wiped your tears away letting the tap run so the water could cover up your sobbing. The director was so happy with your acting that he even showed you thumbs up— you saw that in the mirror in front of you but you didn’t care. Hugh’s character entered the bathroom shortly and his strong arms coiled around you– you couldn’t help but that hug was needed. You were saying your scripted lines looking at each other in the mirror as he wiped your tears away with his thumb, the look on your face softened and you couldn’t lie. The hug felt like heaven.. the way his towering body brought you close and held you from behind meant everything. God knew you needed the hug so much. Suddenly he turned you to face him, cupped your cheeks and his mouth was on yours. The kiss was nothing but consuming your very soul. You moaned into the kiss cupping his face in your hands not caring you were in front of the rolling camera. Hugh’s tongue slipped past your lips, and you accepted it and it was like you forgot everything around you. When the director shouted ‘cut’ you pulled away and you could see the longing gaze on Hugh’s face. Your gazes lingered a moment more before breaking away and this time you both didn’t burst into laughter. You both separated away from each other, part of you already missed him but you needed a real break. So you spoke to your boss and he gave you a day off. You quickly grabbed your stuff and sped off to your trailer to change and leave the set. Your manager booked you a room in the city in the sunset plaza, and you informed your girlfriends about a night out. You were applying makeup after shower when a knock on your trailer distracted you.

“Yeah? Come in!” You called still turned around guessing it’s your stylist but you didn’t tell her about your day off. “You leaving?” Hugh’s voice surprised you, he never stepped in your trailer in 8 weeks of shooting. Now he was here?

“Yeah, I’m just going out with my girlfriends. How about you? It’s our day off.” You smiled applying a light blush to your cheeks and crossing your legs. You were still in your pink robe, and part of your thigh revealed making hugh told his head and moisten his lips. “I- well, I was just going to tell you that.. I really loved your scene today. It’s, phenomenal. You nailed it, kid.” You chuckled. “Thanks, I can say the same about you. Our characters look great together” you nodded. “Who’s joining you again?” He asked again innocently observing the way you applied your lipstick. Your dress hung on your wardrobe, it was a small dress and matching stilettos. “My girlfriends.” You smiled noticing the look on his face you almost found it too cute. “Wearing that?” He arched a brow. You scoffed “Yes Sir, that. Don’t you like it?” He nodded “I do– it’s just.. it’s almost see through. And it’s short. Oh what the fuck am I saying– have a good time” he sighed getting out of your trailer almost annoyed with himself. “Hugh wait!” You called but he was long gone. You sighed heavily taking your phone, it was almost time to leave and your limo was waiting.

The night was a progress. You drank champagne, flirted with handsome men and had a good time. Your girlfriends were nothing but happy for you and your new upcoming movie so it deserved to be celebrated. You tried having a good time, you tried not to think about Hugh but it was almost impossible. The look on his face was almost disappointed when you told him you were going out. You’ve spend so much time together lately and you missed him. You became great friends, close friends. Right now he was nowhere to be seen, and you couldn’t help but think of him. “You owe me a dance.” A handsome man approached your vip section offering you his hand and you gladly accepted it, the music blasted and the bar quickly became overfilled with people after midnight. You drunk away your worries on a third glass of champagne. You danced, closing your eyes biting your lips when the man hand his hands all over your body feeling the stress leaving your body.

He was nothing but worried about you, he wanted to know where you went so he dressed and left. He couldn’t help it, he fell hard. After all of those years– he felt desire, want, real feelings to someone and it was you. It wasn’t just your friendship and the amounts of times you two spend together filming and hanging out. It was the way you both shared a meal from one plate, your late night walks and your shopping together, you attending stuff together. Even simple things like going to gym together. The shape of you caused his heart to pound faster, your smile, your pouts, your talent. That pulled him in. He wanted you so badly. But what he found.. was not to his liking at all. Standing in the doorway, he saw you on the dance floor grinding yourself against a certain man who had his hands on your waist tearing anger in Hugh’s chest. He snapped. He didn’t have to drink at all, he saw what you were after. “Fuck..” he sighed pushing past the grinding bodies to get to you. He yanked you by your arm away from the crowd, to the bathrooms. “What the fuck!” You groaned narrowing your eyes at him. “What are you doing?!” You adjusted your dress. “Saving you.” His nostrils flared as he gazed at you certainly annoyed. “You were getting into a situation there and I fucking saved you.” He added breathless locking the door on the bathroom. “What?! What situation! I’m an adult, I can do whatever I want.” You shot back angrily. “You can’t. Not like this.” He whispered under his breath “you gonna take your fucking things, I’m taking you away from here.” You scoffed crossing your arms. “I fucking won’t.” He arched a brow. “Excuse me?” You nodded “you heard me. You’re not my father. You’re just someone who I work with.” You boldly answered looking away. You then noticed what he wore, he wore a suit. Black dress pants with a white dress shirt. Fuck.. he had no idea how much you wanted him. Your pussy pulsated, hidden in your panties. His sleeves were rolled to his elbows, his strong cologne hit you in your face. He let out a laugh “Excuse me the fuck.” You shook your head “What do you want?” Sighing backing yourself against the wall. His hands momentarily caged you in, he was giving you that look again. “I thought of you all day..” he whispered kissing your forehead. Even with your high heels on you were exactly to his chest. “Seeing him touch your body like that, I fucking lost it” he admitted breathing in your sweet scent. “Hugh..” you whispered your walls melting away slowly as he scooped you to his arms leaning down only to seek your lips. You kissed, no— you were not that drunk to dream this. It was happening. Your friend.. he was kissing you without cameras around. “Can’t stop thinking about you” you breathed on his lips letting him kiss your cheek, your jawline slowly biting the juncture of your neck and shoulder. You arms swung around his neck and you willingly grinded your pussy against his thigh. Hugh groaned grabbing your thigh. “Can’t forget your behaviour princess..” whispering softly on your ear you moaned running your fingers over his bearded cheeks kissing his lips tenderly. “Can’t be friends with you” you sighed “You know my answer to that..” he huskily replied groping your butt in his large hand. Where did the goofy man disappear? Who was this, making you feel this way. He was someone completely different- man driven by lust and love.

Three more kisses later he held you over the sinks and pounded into you. Eyes locked on yours in the mirror watching the fucked out expression “Couldn’t look at your slutty dress anymore..” he breathed holding your shoulder as he thrusts in and out of your slick heat. “You looked so fucking hot on the dance floor and here you’re, too fucked out on my cock.” You bit your lip eyes watering when his thrusts sped up, the squelching and claps of your bodies working as one could be heard in the empty bathroom. Your fingers grew white as you gripped the sinks watching him as he pounds you “wanted you, wanted you the moment we kissed in the bathroom” you whined pushing back against his groin fucking your self on his cock before he grabbed the back of your neck pulling you up. His arms snaked around your front as he started to pound you even faster “yeah? Now you got me sweetheart.” A breathless smile appeared on his face as he nuzzled your hair groping your bouncing breasts in his hands groaning and moaning under his breath “fuck.. you gonna cum sweetie? Lookatcha all whiny being filled with cock has you ruined” you reached behind to touching his pumping hips feeling his cock twitch in you and you let out a heavy cry “yess.. fuck.. yes..” biting your lower lip as your pussy pulsed and milked his cock, tipping him over the edge he snapped his hips twice and trice– before cumming unloading in you. His hand locked around your neck tilting your face towards him to kiss you with a smile “you’re good to do princess.. my limo. Not yours.” You smiled sated, kissing him back with a little tongue “I’d love to.”

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