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oldmanffucker · 2 months

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i'm gonna post a fic "outline" (part outline part draft) of hilson smut and im gonna need yalls input bc im stuck and need feedback or i'll never post it so comment on whatever you want

insp by this tumblr post

wilson goes to sleep while house is watching discovery channel. It takes wilson longer to fall asleep than usual, he’s tossing and turning and this is why he’s able to hear house switch to porn some time later. Wilson realized he must probably do this every night, waiting for wilson to be asleep before playing the porn at a low volume in the other room. I mean after all wilson knew he did it out there, and house was shameless, and he knew it happened period, but something stirs in him as he realizes how often this must happen… but no. he doesn’t want to think about that. He can’t. He squeezes his eyes shut but finds that he’s straining to hear any sound beyond the faux moaning of the star of the film. He hears a grunt and wonders if it was the costar of the film or..House… no . no he can’t be listening. He covers his head with his pillow and tries not to think about it anymore, singing the alphabet to himself. Before he knows it he falls asleep.

Next night, it happens again and he listens a bit more. He hears house a bit more clearly, he wonders if house is getting more bold or if the tv is quieter or if, god forbid, wilson is just more attentive. He doesn’t let his hands wander, but he lets himself rock slowly against the blankets, only edging himself before he forces himself to deep breathe into sleepfulness.

It happens AGAIN the next night. Wilson is beginning to wonder if house is playing at something or if wilson himself is subconsciously keeping himself awake in some perverted hope of hearing his best friend jerking off. He kicks himself for being a terrible roommate and bestie for crossing this boundary. this time he notices….. well, huh…. Wilson doesn’t hear a woman in this video. His skin starts tingling and his heart is hammering. Is house…..listening to. no, watching gay porn in the living room? Oh my god. Wilson’s mouth is dry. He wonders again if house is manufacturing this moment to expose him. As what? Does this make him gay? Does it make him gay to wonder how house was laid out on the couch - reclining with his head against the arm of the couch, or sitting up, legs spread and firm on the floor? To wonder how house’s mouth fell open as he chased his pleasure, how his hands twisted, what rhythm they kept…… Does it make him gay to think about House saying his name in the throes of passion? Wait… house saying his name…. In the throes of passion… did he just? Was he starting to hear things??? He steps out of his bed and holds his ear to the door. House was moaning his name!!!!! “Fuck, Wilson..” wilson barely bit back a moan. Shuffles back to his bed, tries to cover his ears again but he’s burning and tingling and so turned on and so curious… he removes the pillow and hears house moaning mingled with the sounds of two men groaning and skin slapping and fuck it. Wilson shoves his pajama pants and boxers down and palms himself, too lost in the fantasy of it all to be very quiet. Part of him thinks this must be a very realistic dream, and who cares about courtesy in a dream?? He doesn’t last long at all, imagining house walking in and demanding to be taken by wilson, whining and crying beneath him…he cums with House’s name on his lips. Next day keeps blushing when he sees house, house acts like nothing is new, like he didn’t hear wilson… so maybe he didn’t! Maybe he still doesn’t know wilson has been listening to him!

Keeps dropping little innuendos throughout the day that could be targeted or could be nothing. (idk what tho lol)

Nothing for a day or two. Wilson is tries not to shamewank into his blanket but fails in his resolve…well maybe resolved first night and loses resolve second night and third night he hears it again and sighs in relief and he’s so busy listening to the sounds of gay sex playing on the tv - a little louder than the past days - that he misses the sound of footsteps and gasp! House walks in on him palming himself through his boxers.

“Sh-shit, House!” he scrambles to pull up his blanket, beet red from embarrassment. House has a predatory smile. Has wilson right there he wanted him.

“Were you getting off listening to me getting off to gay porn, wilson?” “what? No o-of course not that’s insane.” “is it?” house is silouetted, wilson cant see if he’s as affected as he is. “Is that for me?” house points to where the blanket is tented. wilson flexes his jaw and sits up, scooting against the headboard so he can cover himself more. he Doesn’t know how to answer that. Is this a joke? Is house mocking him? Is he disgusted by him? Was this a ploy to out him? Was he really interested? What is his intention? house walks over, wilson can see house too is affected. He sits at the edge of the bed and tugs the blanket down, exposing where wilson is hard in his boxers. Licks his lips and looks up at wilson. “Because mine is.” house whispered. It was hard to doubt him, but wilson still didn’t talk. Just held his breath, eyes flicking between house’s eyes, lips, and dick. “House….” wilson says in a warning tone. Pleading with him silently not to do anything he doesn’t mean, because wilson does mean it and he can’t handle it if this is just another prank. Its quiet but they can still hear the echoing of the porn in the living room. Wilson swallows hard and house licks his lips. Starts them in the right direction by adjusting his erection. Wilson follows his movement with his eyes and his mouth falls open, house watches him and smiles, palms himself more intentionally then sighs a breathy moan. Do they just jerk off to each other and escalate in future nights or go all in now…. not sure….

#nsft #fic #house #text post #house md #gregory house #hilson #james wilson #my post #wilson

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brian-in-finance · 2 years

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Caitríona Balfe’s Celtic Conquest, From Outlander to Belfast

Already beloved thanks to TV’s time-traveling romance (hey, let her direct an episode already!), the Irish actor’s performance in Kenneth Branagh’s coming-of-age film puts her on the path to movie stardom—and the Oscars.

Caitríona Balfe’s wrap gloves by Marc Jacobs.PHOTOGRAPHS BY NICK RILEY BENTHAM. STYLED BY REBECCA RAMSEY.

As a child, Caitríona Balfe never found it strange when a trip to the dentist or to a clothing store involved driving by British soldiers with machine guns, or having the family car inspected for explosives. There were frequent bomb scares too, around where she grew up in Tydavnet, a small Irish village near the Northern Ireland border, and sometimes on the news she’d hear about a nearby community that had been hit. “It’s such a part of the fabric of your life when you live in those areas,” she says. “It’s really not until you get older that you look back and you realize the craziness of it, or the strangeness of it.”

It’s a warm November day, and Balfe is sitting at an outdoor table at a restaurant in Los Angeles, talking about the concentric circles that are her life and her new movie, Kenneth Branagh’s Belfast. The film is Branagh’s semi-autobiographical take on his own childhood, set in 1969 not long after the violence and conflict known as the Troubles got under way. Balfe plays Ma, a mother of two torn between the fear of leaving her home in Northern Ireland and the desperation to keep her Protestant family safe. As it happens, Balfe has brought her three-month-old baby boy with her to Los Angeles for his first cross-Atlantic trip. Her son didn’t sleep well last night, so neither did she. Mind you, you can’t tell: Balfe still has a fresh glow, seemingly perfect skin, and piercing light blue eyes, all of which make it completely understandable that she spent her 20s as a runway model in Paris.

Top and collar by Schiaparelli; earrings by Bulgari High Jewelry.PHOTOGRAPHS BY NICK RILEY BENTHAM. STYLED BY REBECCA RAMSEY.

Even without the nighttime needs of her little one, Balfe, 42, has reason to be tired at the moment. A couple of evenings ago, she attended Belfast’s glitzy L.A. premiere at the Academy Museum of Motion Pictures, which wrapped up with a late-night after-party where her costar Jamie Dornan belted out “Everlasting Love,” a song his character sings to Balfe’s in the film. The whirlwind promotional trip began a few weeks earlier with the London premiere, and then a hop over to Belfast for the local fête, which was the first time Balfe’s mother had ever attended one of her premieres. In between London and Belfast, Balfe stopped over in Ireland to visit family members she hadn’t seen since before the pandemic. “They hadn’t met the baby. They hadn’t seen me pregnant,” she says, ordering huevos rancheros, excited to be baby-free for a moment and use both her hands to have a civilized, adult meal. “It was like this whole event happened without seeing them.”

Belfast quickly became an Oscar front-runner when it was released by Focus Features in theaters on November 12. Even with a cast that includes Dornan, Judi Dench, and Ciarán Hinds, Balfe is a clear standout. Despite starring on a hit TV show—Starz’s Outlander—for the past eight years, Balfe will likely be set on the path to movie stardom by Belfast, though she waves away that kind of talk. “I feel like I’m at such an early stage in my career because I started so late,” she says, having left Ireland at 18 for that decade-long modeling career. Outlander has earned her fans and a rich role to dig into, but Belfast has brought her to Northern Ireland, and to a story close to her own heart.

“As an Irish person, you read so many of these scripts about the Troubles, and they all have this romantic version of the violence,” Balfe says. “It always upsets me, because I don’t think that’s something that should be romanticized. And here was a script that really focused in on the family and on the people and the communities that are affected.”

Top and collar by Schiaparelli; briefs by Saint Laurent by Anthony Vaccarello; shoes by Roger Vivier; earrings by Bulgari High Jewelry.PHOTOGRAPHS BY NICK RILEY BENTHAM. STYLED BY REBECCA RAMSEY.

For decades, the Troubles gripped Northern Ireland in an extended period of violent unrest, which had a lasting effect on those living in the border towns. The conflict raged from the 1960s to the late 1990s and led to more than 3,500 deaths. It also shaped the lives of so many who grew up in those decades, like Balfe and Belfast director Kenneth Branagh. “It makes you very observant, and it makes you understand how very carefully sometimes people have to tread when, like her, they grew up living on a divide,” Branagh says of Balfe. “You know what it is like to live in a sort of semipermanent code red.”

The fourth of seven children, Balfe and her family moved from Dublin to that village near the border when she was very young, for her father’s job. (Balfe was raised Catholic but has since lapsed.) She’s wanted to act for as long as she can remember, but she’s not exactly sure where the impulse came from. She thinks the fact that her dad—a sergeant for An Garda Síochána, Ireland’s national police service—was in a comedy troupe probably had something to do with it. But her plans took a detour when a modeling scout spotted her while she was studying acting at the Dublin Institute of Technology. A few months later she signed with Ford Models and was offered an opportunity to move to Paris. “I always just wanted to travel,” she says. “Growing up, we never did that—there were too many of us. We didn’t have the money.”

“I KNEW THAT I HAD A PASSION FOR ACTING. I KNEW IT WAS SOMETHING THAT, IF I GOT THE CHANCE TO DO IT, I WOULD ATTACK IT WITH EVERYTHING I HAD.”

Balfe couldn’t have known that when she left Ireland to work, she would never call it home again. She became one of the most in-demand models working the runways, walking for the likes of Chanel, Valentino, Alexander McQueen, and Givenchy. Over a three-year stretch in the early 2000s, she appeared in hundreds of shows. “There was something about the theatricality of the runway shows—and the event of it—that I really loved,” Balfe says. But it eventually lost its shine as she neared 10 years in the business. “For the last couple of years I was miserable, really,” she says. “It’s not exactly the nicest industry or the healthiest industry.”

By then, Balfe was based in New York, and she started to dabble in acting classes. She was dating a guy who lived in Los Angeles and decided to take another leap to a new city full of strangers. “I knew that I had a passion for acting,” she says. “I knew it was something that, if I got the chance to do it, I would attack it with everything I had.” Balfe was aware she was at a disadvantage as a late starter, even at the not-exactly-old age of 29. Still, she began to build a career, commencing with the smallest of roles in J.J. Abrams’s Super 8. “I didn’t speak and I was the dead mom,” she says with a laugh, “but at least I spent a day with J.J. You kind of feel like, Well, if that person who’s really incredible and successful gives you a sort of seal of approval, then maybe that means something.”

The smaller jobs kept coming for a while, but then things dried up. One day, Balfe was standing in a dog park with a friend when her manager called her and dumped her. At that point, she hadn’t worked in five or six months. At first, “He kept telling me, ‘You have to wear the dress and put the makeup on and do the hot-girl thing.’ And it was so not me,” she says. “I’m glad I knew that I wanted to do it with integrity, if that makes any sense.”

Balfe’s conviction began to falter and she considered giving up on acting. When the casting call came along for Outlander, “it was another self-tape among hundreds,” she says. But in 2013 she was cast in the lead role of Claire, a former World War II nurse in Scotland who is transported back to the mid-18th century, where she’s thrown into a group of rebel Highlanders. She falls in love with one of the men, Jamie (played by Sam Heughan). “That feistiness she’s got, maybe it’s the Irishness in her—because she’s got great intelligence and great wit about her—that feistiness really works for Claire,” Heughan says of Balfe. “She’s never going to be told what to do. She’s always going to stand up for herself.”

Caitríona Balfe began her career as a runway model before transitioning to acting; her movie debut was a nonspeaking role in J.J. Abrams’s Super 8. “At least I spent a day with J.J.,” she says now.

Gown by Saint Laurent by Anthony Vaccarello.PHOTOGRAPHS BY NICK RILEY BENTHAM. STYLED BY REBECCA RAMSEY.

Outlander allowed Balfe to show off her versatility in a series that requires physical strength, charm, wit, and depth, and the offers sailed in. But because shooting a season of Outlander in Scotland takes between 9 and 12 months, there’s never much time left for her to accept other opportunities. “The beauty of this show is that it’s opened a lot of doors. The tough part about it is that we don’t have any time to really take advantage of it,” says Balfe. She was able to film Jodie Foster’s Money Monster between seasons one and two and starred opposite Christian Bale in the Oscar-nominated Ford v Ferrari between seasons four and five, the latter of which brought her some critical acclaim for elevating what could have been a by-the-numbers “wife” role. Says Ford v Ferrari director James Mangold, “Whatever had been said to me before I met Caitríona—‘She’s in this hot TV show, huge following, former model’—this is often the kind of thing that turns me off. But what I was confronted with was a simply remarkable actress—present, fearless, emotionally vulnerable, and smart.”

Outlander has a passionate fan base, and the new level of fame has also come with challenges—especially in regard to Balfe’s personal life. Though she was pregnant while shooting the sixth season (premiering March 6), she managed to keep the news off of social media, and many fans were surprised when she announced the birth of her son—with a simple black-and-white image of a tiny hand holding hers—on August 18. “I’m a very open person,” she says. “It’s not like I was hiding my pregnancy. Everybody at work knew, all of my friends knew, anyone I came into contact with in my life knew. But in terms of putting that out there, I don’t see the value in that. I think there’s certain things that are nice to have for yourself.”

She has a reason to be a bit more protective, owing to a sliver of fans who are obsessed with the idea that Balfe and Heughan are romantically involved in real life. These stans have conspiracy theories, including one positing that her baby is Heughan’s because the bedsheets in the baby picture look similar to ones seen in a photo Heughan has posted. Balfe says that after she married her husband, Scottish music manager Anthony McGill, in 2019, she found out that someone had called to harass the secretary of the church where the wedding took place; they didn’t believe her marriage was real. She’s also gotten wind that private investigators have been hired to “solve” the case and prove definitively that she’s involved with Heughan.

In Belfast Balfe and Jamie Dornan play Ma and Pa, parents working to protect their children from the outbreak of violence at the beginning of the Troubles.BY ROB YOUNGSON/FOCUS FEATURES.

“When you have a kid, you become really protective,” Balfe says. “I don’t want those crazies—because that’s what they are—I just don’t want them talking about him.” So you won’t find the name of her son in this article, and you won’t find photos of him on her social media. Being a new mom has necessitated an additional layer of armor for Balfe: “It’s sad, because you meet the loveliest people who are fans of the show and they’re super supportive and they do the nicest things—and then you have that little thing, which just taints it.”

That maternal fire to protect her child at all costs is exactly what drives Ma in Belfast. In certain scenes, she is literally blocking her boy from harm. Early on, when a riot breaks out in their quaint town, Ma scoops up her son Buddy (Jude Hill) from the street and uses a trash can lid to shield him from danger while she rushes him home to safety. Branagh says Balfe had the balance of wit and charm with the strength needed for this character, who is loosely based on his own mother. “You have this quiet, funny, twinkly woman at one end of her presence,” he says. “And at the other end, you’ve got this sort of Cleopatra, Boudicca kind of lion woman—you just would not mess with her, ever. When she accesses that, this beautiful, funny, kind, gentle, quiet woman would take your head off.”

While filming Belfast, which was one of the first projects to shoot in Europe close to the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, Balfe considered her own mother, who had to uproot her family from Dublin and move near the border. “I think a lot about how hard that must have been for her and the struggles that she made in making that decision,” she says. She found that Ma had an interesting contradiction at the heart of her character: “In her own space and in this own little community, she was so confident and comfortable. But yet she was such a little girl, because you take her outside of that, and she was so scared. The outside world was so alien to her.”

Top and collar by Schiaparelli; earrings by Bulgari High Jewelry.PHOTOGRAPHS BY NICK RILEY BENTHAM. STYLED BY REBECCA RAMSEY.

Unlike Ma, Balfe has been at home in the outside world for more than two decades now. She mostly resides in Glasgow because of Outlander’s demanding production schedule. Balfe says she’s not sure when the series, which will shoot its seventh season later in 2022, will end, but adds, “We will have hit the almost 10-year mark by the end of that, which feels like a nice kind of time frame, but we don’t know. Those decisions are far above my pay grade.”

But it will end eventually, and then Balfe’s schedule will very much open up. She hopes to do theater and delve into other meaty film roles, but more than anything she hopes to direct. “It’s something I’ve been talking about doing on the show. It’s falling a little on deaf ears,” she says, adding that there was a plan for her to do some directing in the sixth season, but the pandemic, her starring role, and her pregnancy made the logistics of that more complicated. Clearly frustrated, Balfe says she hasn’t heard anything about directing in the upcoming seventh season but feels it’s unlikely at this point. “It would’ve been the perfect chance for me in a very safe space,” she says. “I’m so close with all of our camera crew, and they were always having conversations about what lens they’re using and what frame it is and they’re really always super helpful in giving me as much information as I want. It’s a shame, but out of my hands.”

“SHE’S GOT GREAT INTELLIGENCE AND GREAT WIT ABOUT HER… SHE’S NEVER GOING TO BE TOLD WHAT TO DO. SHE’S ALWAYS GOING TO STAND UP FOR HERSELF.”

She spoke with Branagh, while they were filming Belfast, about her desire to direct. He’d make sense as a mentor, being an actor himself. “I personally would be really fascinated to see her direct,” he says. “Because that compassionate emotional intelligence and genuine, significant intellect—I think will also be a great storytelling voice to see in the future.”

And on the set of Belfast, she noticed something noteworthy about Branagh’s team: There were a significant number of women on the crew, something she hasn’t seen on Outlander. The disparity was so noticeable that she said around two years ago she and Heughan spoke with the show’s executives about diversifying the crew in terms of gender and race. “I think on one hand there’s sort of this idea, ‘Well, Scotland’s a very predominantly white place and it’s an industry that traditionally is much more male-skewed, so it’s tough to find these people.’ I’m not sure that’s necessarily true. I think there’s ways of finding people to bring in.”

Though her efforts to direct an episode of Outlander are “falling a little on deaf ears,” Balfe still hopes to step behind the camera soon.

Gown by Valentino; earrings by Mikimoto. Throughout: hair products by Leonor Greyl; makeup products by Pat McGrath Labs; nail enamel by Chanel Le Vernis.PHOTOGRAPHS BY NICK RILEY BENTHAM. STYLED BY REBECCA RAMSEY.

Having a child also gave Balfe some insight on the reasons why men continue to dominate productions. “By the time you get to a certain age, if you want to have a family at all, you end up stepping off that ladder and I think it’s very hard for them to come back in,” she says. “That’s something we need to address as an industry because I look at our camera crew, all amazing guys, all of them have become fathers in the eight years we’ve been filming, but not one of them has had to give up their position.”

Whatever direction she takes next, her choices will be influenced not only by what she wants for her career but also what’s best for her new family of three. “I was talking to my agent the other day [about a job], and I was like, ‘Well, let’s start with when and where.’ For how long and where it is have become sort of initial markers of whether or not things are doable,” she says. Promoting Belfast will likely keep Balfe very busy through the Oscars, and afterward she hopes to spend some quiet time back home, which is, for now, in Glasgow. That’s another thing that could change when Outlander does finally end—and it’s an issue Belfast deeply grapples with. If you leave your home, where is home? It’s a question Balfe has faced since she moved away at such a young age.

“It’s funny, I don’t know where my home is,” she says. “Since I left Ireland, I’ve constantly been on the move. I think it’s definitely the people you’re with now. But as in a place, I’ve never really put down roots since. I think you’ll never feel as tied to a place as you do when you’re a child, you know?”

HAIR, GARETH BROMELL; MAKEUP, MARY WILES; MANICURE, EMI KUDO; TAILOR, ELMA CLICK; SET DESIGN, COLIN PHELAN. FOR DETAILS, GO TO VF.COM/CREDITS.

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many fans were surprised when she announced the birth of her son—with a simple black-and-white image of a tiny hand holding hers

conspiracy theories, including one positing that her baby is Heughan’s because the bedsheets in the baby picture look similar to ones seen in a photo Heughan has posted

she married her husband, Scottish music manager Anthony McGill, in 2019

someone had called to harass the secretary of the church where the wedding took place

private investigators have been hired to “solve” the case and prove definitively that she’s involved with Heughan.

▪️▪️▪️

https://www.vanityfair.com/hollywood/2022/01/the-prime-of-caitriona-balfe-awards-insider

Remember… Caitríona has spoken. To Vanity Fair. This is not a rag. This version of the magazine is 39 years old in February, and has a print readership of 9M monthly. It is time to stop. If you are still shipping her with Sam. If you think she has children with him. If you think she is lying about her being married to Tony and their recently having welcomed a son… you are one of the “crazies.”

#Tait rhymes with hat #Good times #BelfastMovie #Cover #Feature #Vanity Fair #6 January 2022 #Awards Insider #Belfast #Worldwide 2022 #Twitter #Thanks castlemaine123

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inkmonster21 · 3 years

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Showtime

1. 2. 3. 4. 5.

Kensy Bixby, popular, attractive, talented. The youngest child of two Broadway stars, she could have it all. She could have anyone she wanted. What on earth is she doing with a guy like Judd Birch?

I pull at the sundress, waiting in the wings to go on for the number. “Hey.” I turn around seeing the dark dressing tents. I turn back around waiting for the cue. “Bixby bitch!”

I spun around fully to see Judd’s outline in the tent. I pull back the curtain, “what are you doing here? This is cast only! You’re going to-“ “shut up, retard.” Judd grasps my hips, gathering the dressing in his hands. He smashes his lips to mine making me forget everything completely. Judd slides one hand up my entire body resting it on the nape of my neck, he applies pressure making my skin shutter under his touch.

“Good luck. You’re gonna need it.” Judd pushes me off and on to the stage. I turn to see the three classmates playing my pretend dads, and then my costar playing my mother. “Hi, mom…” she crosses her arms, “hi.” She motions to the three men, “explain please!”

The play went off with a hitch and ended with a bang! The entire audience stood applauding. In the very front, my mother and father stand waving as if the appreciation is for them. My eyes travel into the crowd and in the middle of the rows, Judd and Nick.

So he came?

The entire auditorium empties only leaving a few of the cast members. I rip the crop top off my body, leaving me in my bra. I slide through the rack of clothes looking for my shirt. Suddenly a hand comes out of the rack and grabs my wrist. I gasp tugging it back but the strength overpowers me, pulling me behind the rack. Judd smirks as he lets go of my arm.

“I didn’t know you could sing. It wasn’t that bad.” I narrow my eyes at him, “I feel like your trying to compliment me.” Judd looks away rolling his eyes, “whatever. I’m getting drinks for the party. What do you want?” “Leah told me she was getting wine.” Judd scoffs, “gay ass wine. What do you want?” Is Judd trying to be nice? Going out of his way in the slightest? I shrug, “I’m not a-“ “just fucking tell me, retard.” “Jack.” Judd’s eyes widen before a smirk grows on his lips.

He backs away, but at the last second, he throws a shirt at me, my shirt. “I like that one.” It was an overly worn shirt, faded colors of the nirvana logo living on the threads. “I like the bra too.” I gasp covering myself. I had completely forgotten I was shirtless.

I tug my shirt on and exit the tent. Leah rushes to me in excitement. “You’re coming right?” I nod, “my parents permitted me earlier. I'm yours for the night!” She cheers clinging onto me.

I pull into the driveway taking notice of the absence of Judd’s van. Maybe he skipped the party altogether and just provided us with booze. A high school party doesn’t seem his style.

I enter the house following the voices to the kitchen. Nick leans on the counter shooting a finger gun at me, “Kensy, guess we’re partying tonight.” I narrow my eyes, “you’re staying?” “You better believe it! I’m gonna be all big dick boy! High school party in da house!”

Leah places her hand on her forehead pushing out a sigh. “Okay Nick, this is a high school party. These are theater kids like Kensy and me. They’re sophisticated. Like that guy, Daniel…” I roll my eyes at the mention of the stage hog. He almost ruined the performance with his dumb improv.

Nick sways his shoulders, “Oh, Leah likes Daniel!” “Leah will slit your throat.”

From the darkness, Judd enters with a box of wine and two bottles of Jack Daniels. “Nice, third-person threat.” He pushes past me, setting the box on the island.

Connie stomps in. “What the hell does this hunk of man meat expect us to do? We’re quivering over here!”

I lean on the counter, poking my ass out only slightly as my back arches. He glances my way, I toss my hair over my shoulder, “Hi, Judd.”

He gulps and huffs, “sup, Bitch.”

“I got your gay ass wine for you and your gay ass theater friends. Jacks mine. I hope your party sucks.” Judd picks up one of the bottles and moves away from the island. As he rounds the corner, he allows his hand to brush the back of my thighs, right where the ends of my shorts fray. It sends a shiver up my entire body. “I’ll be upstairs, but I’m always listening,” Judd says looking deep into my eyes. He’s always listening? How comforting. Judd smiles at me the entire way up the steps until he vanishes.

Nick grabs a cup holding it out as Leah pours herself some wine. “You think you’re having wine?” “Come on!” “No, you’re not having any.” Nick tilts his head, “Leah, do you want me to be the little brother who tells on his sister?” Leah groans but fills his cup, “fine! You can have a little.”

A gruff chuckle emerges from… somewhere? Judd’s muffled voice comes through, “he’s already got a little… dick.” I cover my mouth chuckling at his joke. Nick looks around in annoyance, “really?”

I look around with confusion, “where is he?”

“I’m in the walls now.” Judd’s voice says from directly above me. I look up seeing the vent and catch his eyes. He stares down at me with a smirk. I grab a cup and pop the lid off the Jack Daniels pouring some in my cup. “Ew, Kensy!” I shrug taking a sip. “Wine is for pussyfoots.” Nick gawks as I down my fist cup, pouring a second. I look up to the ceiling giving Judd a wink.

Let the party begin.

I feel so crowded in the middle of this stupid party! I weave my way through the crowd entering the kitchen, my purse hanging on the coat rack. I reach in to retrieve the silver wrap containing the pearled blunt.

Judd hasn’t made any special appearances and I’m bored of these people.

I step out onto the back patio, the pool lamps dimly lighting the backyard. I sit back in the chair under an umbrella, sparking the blunt.

“What the fuck?” I smirk to myself, not turning around. Instead, I hold my arm up offering him the blunt. Not being a dumbass he takes it, puffing on it a few times.

He takes the seat beside me, passing the blunt back. “You roll that?” I nod placing it in between my lips again. Judd places the Jack Daniels on the table sliding it towards me. “I got two for us to share.” I pass the blunt to him, letting my fingers draw a circle on his hand in the process. I take the bottle and remove the top, taking a large swig. “How sweet of you.”

“I knew there was something about you.”

I trade him the bottle for the blunt, a smirk tracing my lips. “Elaborate for me, Birch.” “Kensy Bixby. Rich parents, big house, star of the town, and here you are smoking weed and drinking Jack Daniels.” “That’s pretty obvious, Judd. I’m glad your eyes are working.” “Bitch, shut up. You know exactly what I’m talking about. You hide away.” I slump back, “It’s easier that way.”

Judd grabs my hand, he brings my hand to his lips, kissing each knuckle. “That’s fucking stupid.” He stands up, “I got a bong in my room if you want to match.” He leaves without another word said or received.

I look down at my outfit, my black shorts clang to my hips perfectly, my nirvana shirt tucked in the front. My mother would have a heart attack if she knew I was in this attire. The entire fit cost less than her shoes. She would die!

“Ohh shit! There you are! Honey, honey, how you thrill me!” Nick stumbles out the door singing. “Hey, Kensy! Ohh are you smoking?” I giggle at his drunken state. “I sure am.” He reaches for it, “lemme try.” I scoff standing up out of his reach. “No way!” Nick pouts and tips his cup in his mouth.

“What’s Judd like?” “Ah, he’s fine. He hasn’t killed anyone I know of. Why?” I shrug, “I find him curious.” Nick stares at me, his big mouth forming into a smile. “You like him!”

Oh shit.

I roll my eyes, tossing my hands up, demanding his tale to be false. “Nick listen to yourself!” I pull on the blunt again hoping it would calm my nerves. I was wrong. Nick crosses his arms smirking at me, “you like him.” He sings as he reaches for the blunt again. I pull it away and huff, “maybe.”

Nick squeals fanning his little hands around in excitement. I push past him and walk inside the house being met by Jay. “PARTY WOLF!” He dances around the kitchen with a bottle of cotton candy brandy.

I make my way up the stairs and to the door with a very unwelcoming sign and caution tape. I not even able to know once before the door opens and Judd stands in view. He pulls me into the room with a smirk, “thought you pussyfooted out.” I shake my head grabbing the bottle of Jack. “Nah, just had to get trapped by your brother.”

“He say anything to you?”

“Like what?”

Judd shakes his head, “he’s a perv.” “Or are you jealous, Birch?” He looks up at me with dark eyes. “I’ll beat his little ass.” I take a rip passing it to him.

He walks closer taking the bong in his hand, he sets it behind me on the desk, trapping me between his arms. He stares at me deeply. Reading into my soul.

I break wrapping my arms around his neck and attacking his lips. He lifts me onto the desk crawling down my thighs causing me to moan into his mouth.

He trails down my cheeks, landing on my neck, sucking a deep red splotch in the very center. He pulls back admiring his work. “There. Now they’ll know.” I run my fingers over the tender skin. “Know what?” Judd brings my hand up, kissing my knuckles. “You’re mine.”

Judd leans in peppering my lips with kisses. He lifts me off the desk and leads me to the door. “Go on back. Leah is looking for you.” I narrow my eyes, “how do you-“ “KENSY!” Leah’s drunken voice calls. Judd winks before pushing me out the door patting my butt after making it into the hall.

Did I just become Judd’s girlfriend with no choice? I think I did.

Tagged: @grim-adventures58 @calumspupils @medeaa5 @shortytori

#big mouth #big mouth fandom #big mouth fanfic #judd birch #judd birch x oc #judd birch x reader

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spoopybcbe · 3 years

Text

this has been sitting in my drafts for like four months oops. so !! here are some celeb plots i’d love! please check out my guidelines before contacting & message me if you’re interested!

muse a is a huge celebrity. a few years back, they took the world by storm and now they’re one of the biggest names in hollywood. it’s a bit overwhelming, though, and muse a needs to get away. so they head back to their hometown with the hopes of laying low for a bit, recharging. while they’re there, they run into muse b - their childhood friend. they haven’t spoken in years, not since muse a left to make it big, but they’re both surprised at how easily they can fall back into old habits. what was supposed to be a one or two week trip turns into a few months, and muse a doesn’t know how they’re going to leave muse b behind to go back to their career this time around.

muse a and muse b are costars on a popular television series. their characters have a lot of on-screen chemistry, but off camera muse a and muse b can’t stand each other. they put on a good show during interviews and fan events because they know fans love their characters, and that they ‘ship’ muse a and muse b together as well. it’s good for ratings and keeps their jobs safe, and it makes them look a bit more professional. eventually, muse a and muse b get sent on an international tour - just the two of them - to promote the new season, and things get a little sticky when a storm hits and they’re stuck. two people who hate each other stuck in a suite in an unfamiliar city in an unfamiliar country for who knows how long - what could possibly go wrong?

basically the same as above except producers/p.r. basically force muse a and muse b to pretend to be a couple. fans love that their on-screen ship is also a real-life couple and it boosts ratings and viewership. as much as they hate it, its muse a’s first big role and they don’t want to get blacklisted so they try their best to make the most of it. muse b, though, is over it and has a tendency to make the whole situation harder than it needs to be.

muse a is a popular singer on tour and muse b is a musician or background singer on tour with them. ever since muse a came onto the scene as a teenager, they’ve been forced to make music that they’re not really happy with. they don’t get to showcase their talent and that, unfortunately, means that those who tour/record with them don’t either. one day, they hear muse b (either playing or singing) something original, or just a really cool spin on one of muse a’s songs, and muse a loves it. they love the sound and originality and over the rest of the tour, they keep meeting up with muse b to just blow off steam and sing/write music for fun. it’s the most creative that muse a has ever had the chance to be and they love performing with muse b - even if it’s just the two of them who will ever hear any of it. when the tour ends, muse b invites muse a to come record with them and as much as they want to, muse a feels like they’ve just been given a choice between their steady career and happiness.

muse a is an up and coming actor that is finally getting their big break. they’re going to be in a movie that’s projected to be a box office hit or a well-promoted tv show on a popular network. most of the project’s filming is on-location in a small town that’s fairly off the map. muse b is a local that isn’t too thrilled about the sudden influx of outsiders - especially because it means a lot of extra work for businesses that aren’t staffed or equipped to support this many people at once. so muse b is never particularly kind to muse a whenever they stop into the cafe/diner/motel/etc where they work. but the more muse a comes around, the more they start to win over muse b without even trying.

alternatively, muse a is a pretty big name in hollywood and they’re filming on location in a small town. muse b is a business owner/employee in town who is completely clueless. they know that something is being filmed there, but they have no idea who muse a is. muse b treats them just like anyone else - something that hasn’t happened to muse a in a long time. at first, it annoys them but they keep coming around, eventually realizing that they enjoy the change of pace. eventually someone brings muse b up to speed, but nothing changes. they continue to grow fairly attached to one another until filming comes to a close, and they both have a very difficult decision to make.

muse a and muse b grew up together in the spotlight. they were both child stars, whether they were in the same group or show, etc. is open - but they were a part of a very tight knit circle that supported each other as young celebrities. when they started to step into adulthood, muse a started going a bit off the rails. they started making bad decisions, and muse b’s professional circle tried to steer them away. trying to maintain their clean image drove a wedge between muse b and their long time friend. eventually, they lost all contact with muse a - and they watched from afar as muse a’s life continued to fall apart. muse b continued working and managed to find success while muse a’s name was completely reduced to the occasional ‘where are they now?’ headline. years pass, and muse a starts to get their life under control and wants to make a comeback. eventually, this is what leads them to cross paths with muse b again and a lot of feelings come bubbling back to the surface.

#wanted plots #discord rp #indie discord rp #discord 1x1 #plot bunny #plot bunnies

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100hearteyes · 3 years

Photo

Part 2 of Clarke And Lexa Make a Porno, because why the fuck not.

Part 1.

"No. Absolutely not."

Anya's wolfish grin is no good omen. Lexa feels a sense of dread wash over her and tries in vain to assuage her nerves by holding her friend's gaze. Anya wouldn't look this sure if she didn't have some card up her sleeve.

Lexa throws a furtive glance around, checks that her co-workers are still focused on the German porn telenovela. It's only when she's sure that the action on-screen will keep them rooted for a while that she turns back to Anya, trying but failing to meet her eyes.

She overcompensates with another glance around the room and a low hiss. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but am I not too," she licks her lips, gathering the courage, "'vanilla' to do it?"

Anya shrugs like it's a no-brainer; crosses her arms and props her booted feet on Lexa's desk. "That's exactly the point. You're a lesbian Disney princess. Pretty sure if you started singing the whole fucking fauna of Capitola would follow you around."

Lexa levels Anya with a glare and tries to push her feet off the desk, to no avail.

(Seriously, what's it worth being editor if she can't even have her subjects' respect? She wishes this job was less about the headaches and more about the self-indulgent moments of microscopic tyranny.)

The feet might not budge, but Anya will. Lexa is sure of it. She draws herself taller and tucks on her most authoritative scowl. "I won't do it."

Anya plucks an imaginary cigarette from her mouth and throws it away without a care in the world. She reaches behind her and drags forth a heavy wooden box, filled to the brim with—

"My vinyls."

Lexa is in a daze.

She thought she'd lost all her vinyls to time and moving. She mourned each one of them for at least a year, cried many a night away clutching her record player to dear life, lamenting their shared loss.

They had a real connection.

But it turns out her vinyls weren't lost after all, and her tears were for naught. They were safe all along, albeit in different hands, and she'd known nothing of it, like a mother who lets her children wander about without aim nor authority.

How can she ever have kids if she can't even take care of her prized vinyls?

Lexa feels a prick of self-righteous indignation at the betrayal and puffs out her chest. "Why do you have all my vinyls?"

"I think you mean all my vinyls," Anya corrects with a lazy flurry of one hand towards the box.

"You don't even own a record player."

"How the fuck would you know?"

Lexa raises an eyebrow at her friend. "I come over all the time?"

"I could hide it while you're there."

"And then you'd never find it again, because that's what happens every time you try to hide something from me."

Anya shrugs and watches as Lexa picks one of the vinyls and turns it over in her hands, reading the track list on the back with the reverence one would a millennium-old parchment. Then she looks up at Anya with a stern glare.

"Over half of these were stolen from my house."

Anya shrugs again with infuriating nonchalance and Lexa wishes she had a pencil nearby just so she could snap it in two with one hand. Or stab one of Anya's eyes with it.

"Maybe I just rescued them from the actual malefactor," drawls Anya.

"We both know the real culprit sits across from me and has been wearing the same socks for the past three weeks."

Nailed it.

When she looks at her friend, however, all she sees is that same old resting bitch face that never seems to go away.

"Wow, Lexa," Anya deadpans. "Now you've really hurt my feelings."

Sometimes, Lexa wonders if Anya really has a rock where her heart should be. A supernatural, blood-pumping rock, of course, but a rock nonetheless. Or, maybe, Anya is a psychopath. Maybe the blood money theory wasn't so far-fetched after all. That would explain the brazen lack of empathy for everyone else's feelings, most of all Lexa's. What does it say about Lexa that her one true friend is someone who sneezes literally every time Lexa says 'I love you'?

Not that Lexa says it a lot. Only once or twice every few years.

Just enough to have noticed the pattern.

"Are you really trying to blackmail me with vinyls?"

Anya fakes an affronted gasp, laying a hand on her heart. "Would I ever. Think of it as... an incentive."

Lexa really does love Anya, despite her friend's... unique demeanor. Anya helps her come out of her shell — by taking up all the space and forcing her out of her own metaphorical home — and every once in a while she likes to make sure Anya is aware of her gratitude. Sometimes, though, things get really fucking weird.

Lexa would still do anything for her best friend.

"Let's imagine, hypothetically - very hypothetically," she stresses, although Anya's burgeoning smirk tells Lexa she isn't so easily fooled, "that I agreed. What would happen next?"

Anya takes her feet off Lexa's desk and sits up straighter, perhaps aware of the importance of this moment. This, Lexa decides, will determine her answer.

"Well first, I'd have to get you a costar. Then we'd sign some legally binding shit, find a crew, and make the damn movie. Simple as that."

Anya leans forward, looking into her eyes. In Anya's, she sees honesty and a pressing need to reassure. It takes some of the pressure off her shoulders right away.

"Look, Lexa, you can say no. But your name won't be on anything related to the movie and I promise no one in this shitty town will ever find out you did this."

This is why Anya is Lexa's best friend. And it's why Lexa would do anything for her.

Even star in a porno.

"Okay."

Anya's inner smile must be really, really big, because Lexa knows how hard she tries to tamper its outward expression — and still her lips manage to lift into a grotesque grimace. Coming from Anya, it's the equivalent of a blissful grin.

"Okay?"

Lexa nods and closes her eyes, bracing herself for a bone-crushing hug. It never comes. When she opens her eyes, Anya's resting bitch face is back on.

"What, did you want a fucking hug?"

It's a blessing to have her rude friend back, Lexa guesses, because seeing Anya almost smile is fifty shades of unsettling. So she rolls her eyes and rolls with it.

Her next question demands her full focus, lest she makes an even bigger fool of herself than usual.

Lexa breathes in, makes sure all her co-workers are still otherwise entertained, breathes out. Smooths out a non-existent wrinkle in her pants, wets her lips for courage.

"Anyway," she treads with caution, "do you have someone in mind for the other main role?"

It's fitting that Harper McIntyre's hit song One More Betyreyal (one of her less inspired titles, if Lexa may say so) starts playing in that moment, for the look in Anya's eyes speaks of nothing but danger. Lexa wonders how much planning went into this conversation, so Anya could plan all her gut punches in advance.

"Clarke Griffin."

No. No. Anyone but her.

Clarke Griffin is the new recruit, although Lexa hardly understands how there can be someone new considering the station is broke and they’re already overstaffed — and none of them make nearly enough money for how much they laze around all day.

Clarke came from out of town with a fancy degree and was directly hired as an editor. She voices the early afternoon newscasts and Lexa curses the one-hour period during which she's forced to cohabitate with Clarke every day.

Apparently, Clarke had taken a liking to unnerving her, be it by smirking at her every time she catches Lexa staring or by making all sorts of inappropriate comments — to her ear. Lexa hates how much it affects her, but how can she possibly focus on reporting about Lionel "Real Sight" Foster swallowing his own wooden eye or how Jasper Jordan rescued his own private parts from the jaws of two slats of an unassuming park bench if someone keeps doing everything in their power to distract her?

Lexa has a theory (an iron-clad theory, if she may say so herself), and it's that Clarke is trying to get her fired so she can take her shift. It's the best shift of the day. There is no other possible explanation.

"You know what, I take it back. Now you need to convince two people to star in your porno."

"Oh, there's no need." Anya waves her argument away with staggering nonchalance. "Clarke's already said yes."

Wait, what? "But you told me we'd need to get me a costar."

Anya shrugs and Lexa is now seriously considering revisiting her psychopath theory. "I lied."

"You conniving, lying b—"

"Careful," Anya cuts in with a raised eyebrow. "I am under protection of the Capitola Astrologers Union."

"Of which you are president, treasurer, and the only legal member," Lexa reminds her. "And I think any upstanding judge would love to know how exactly every other name on the list has joined said union posthumously."

"I am an astrologer, Lexa. I can communicate with the dead. It's in my job description."

"It scares me that you're not even aware you're describing an entirely different profession."

Lexa sits back, staring at the ceiling (and the chewing gum Murphy glued there a year ago — he could've been an Olympic jumper if he committed to work the way he does to being an asshole), trying to come to terms with a single, harrowing probability: she's going to star in a porno with Clarke Griffin.

"l don't understand why it has to be Clarke."

Anya leans forward, propping her elbows on her knees, expression serious and ready to talk shop. The last time Lexa saw her like this was— actually, Lexa doesn't think she's ever seen Anya like this.

"Look, I've done some market analysis and most girl on girl pairings are a blonde and a brunette." Anya raises both her hands and starts counting off fingers, "Brittana, Petramos, Holstein, Wayhaught, Supercorp, Joanarty, Choni, the inaptly named Shoni, Deanoru, Dana and Alice, Bette and Tina, Catradora, Villaneve, Clexa—"

"What's Clexa?"

"I don't know, some chicks from this fucking terrible CW show."

"Do you like it?"

"Do I like what?"

"Clexa."

"Dude, I don't even know their fucking names!" Anya exclaims, exasperated. As if she's the victim here. "The only Clexa I ship is you and Blondie. Naked. On my porno. Clarke and Lexa. Clexa. Havin' very hot sexa."

"Smart," Lexa deadpans.

"I know."

"Why can't it be Niylah? She's blonde, too."

Anya's smirk is five hundred shades of gross. "I know you'd love to get up close and personal with Niylah's knick-knacks, but no."

Lexa decides to let the comment fly for the sake of her own sanity.

"Why Clarke, though?"

"Because you two have chemistry, you fucking dimwit."

Lexa snorts. Chemistry. Lexa has never heard of something so absurd. She and Clarke have as much chemistry as Harper McIntyre and any semblance of originality.

Which is to say, none at all.

"She makes very inappropriate comments," she argues instead, knowing full well that pressing on the topic of chemistry will only open way for some trademark crass joke from Anya.

"Yeah," her friend agrees, like it's obvious. "Because she knows you love them."

She most certainly does not.

"I most certainly do not."

"You do. Your freakishly tiny ears go red whenever she flirts with you. Your step falters when she makes one of those comments, for fuck's sake," Anya observes, pointing in Lexa's general direction, before leaving forward and laying a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry to tell you this, but you, my friend, are a walking lesbian cliché."

Lexa takes Anya's hand off her shoulder. "Can you please stop insulting my tragically conspicuous homosexuality?"

"Oh please," Anya scoffs. "I'm bisexual, I can say whatever I want."

"If my step actually faltered - which they don't - it would be because her comments are annoying, off-putting, unprofessional, inopportune, and... and inappropriate", she finishes lamely.

"And you fucking love them."

"I don't."

Anya leans back on her chair with an evil smirk, propping her feet on the table and crossing them at the ankles. Lexa tries to push them off to no avail.

"Legalities aside, it's very simple. Clarke has already said yes. I just recorded you saying yes."

Lexa sputters, "You what--"

"You're both legally bound now." Anya shrugs. "Look at it this way: it will be very educational. You'll finally learn how to make a girl come, and get paid for it. Sort of."

A beat of silence.

"Anya, are you aware that you say something at least vaguely criminal every five sentences? Something that could actually put you in prison?"

Anya clicks her tongue, sinking farther into her chair, and lowers her sunglasses to her eyes.

"I've got friends everywhere, Lex. Let's just say I've dipped more than my fingers in my fair share of pies, if you catch my drift." A second later, she lowers her sunglasses just enough to reveal her eyes. "That means my tongue. My tongue's been in a lot of pies, too."

Lexa doesn't doubt that for a second.

"What I need to know is," Anya adds, taking off her sunglasses and throwing them across the room, "will you dip your fingers in the porn pie?"

Like this conversation hasn't caused enough trauma for thirty lifetimes.

"If I say no, will you still give me back my vinyls?"

"Absolutely fucking not."

Lexa swallows, clenches her jaw, and thinks of all those lonely nights spent in the couch clutching her record player and sharing cookie dough ice cream with it, longing for long-gone times when she'd dance to the mellow voices of the likes Billy Ocean and Ella Fitzgerald.

"My answer is yes."

#that moodboard is way too serious for this lol #clexa #clexa au #clexa fic #clexa fanfiction #clexa fanfic #calmap #my fics #mine

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100gayicons · 3 years

Text

Roy Scherer, Jr. and Andrew Kelm had a lot in common. They had abusive fathers; their parents marriages ended in divorce; and they spent their formative years living with their mothers. After serving time in the military (Andrew in the Coast Guard, Roy in the Navy) they found their way to Hollywood.

They both became clients of Henry Willson, a talent agent who specialized in making young good looking men into movie stars. Willson always gave his male clients masculine and memorable stage names - Roy became Rock Hudson (and eventually a major star for Universal) and Andrew became Tab Hunter, a future Warner Brothers star. And Rock and Tab both had a secret that could destroy their careers - they were gay.

Tab’s mother was religious and she sent him and his brother to a catholic school. Athletic, Tab developed a love of figure skating, and competed in both singles and pairs. But it was his love of horses that eventually led to an acting career.

Tab was working at a Southern California stable when a crew arrived to take photos of actress Ann Blythe. Actor (later agent) Dick Clayton was on hand and noticed young Andrew and asked him if he ever considered being an actor. Boy, that sounds like a pickup line! A few years later, after Tab’s stint in the Coast Guard, Tab met Clayton again in New York and Clayton immediately began introducing him to people in show business.

That eventual led to a meeting with Henry Willson, an agent with a reputation for making young men into movie stars (among other things he made some of those men do).

Hunter progressed quickly at Warner. He had his first minor role in 1950 (The Lawless) and by 1954 he was the a leading man (Return to Treasure Island) with Linda Darnell as his love interest. Warner Brothers notice his potential in and offered him a contract. He had a hit with his next film too - “Battle Cry” about marines fighting in the Pacific.

But after 4 films with various studios, he became unhappy with Henry Willson and decided to change agents. That would have its consequences.

Meanwhile agent Henry Willson has a big problem. A scandal magazine threaten to publish an article revealing that his star client Rock Hudson was gay. Willson made a deal with the magazine - he would give them dirt on two other actors in exchange for burning the Hudson story. The first was Rory Calhoun who had an arrest record and spent time in a Juvenal prison. Calhoun’s on screen persona was that of a tough guy, so the article just help to prop up his image.

The other actor thrown under the bus was his former client Tab Hunter. In 1950 Hunter had attended a “pajama party for men only” that was raided by the police. Hunter was arrested (along with 20 other young men) and briefly detained. While this could have ended Hunter’s budding career - he was sparred. In fact, only a few months later he was named a promising young new comer in a national poll.

The studio would regularly send him on on public dates with his costars and fabricate sham resonances with rising young starlets.

Over the next few years, while continuing to star in hit films, Hunter experimented with singing and had a #1 record with “Young Love” in 1957. Based on its success, Warner Brothers actually creates a new division (Warner Bros Records) for him to release more albums. They even bought the rights to the Broadway musical “Damn Yankee” for him to star in the film version (1958).

But what if his love life?

In the 1950s Hunter met Olympic figure skater Ronnie Roberts and they started a long term relationship. Hunter, who always loved skating, sponsored Roberts training (athletes then performed under strict amateur guideline).

They spent spent as much time as possible together - once driving cross-country together so Robbiecould attend training in Lake Placid, NY. Hunter became friends with Roberts family too. But the skating world resented Hunter’s presence are events. And this began affecting Roberts scores. The two eventually parted but remain friends.

“I was infatuated with Ronnie.... To most folks, Ronnie and I were good buddies, sharing the ice. Few people considered what else we were sharing.”

Hunter next serious relationship was with fellow actor Anthony Perkins.

“I had a wonderful relationship with him,” Hunter said.

They met at the pool at the Chateau Marmont, and Hunter was immediately attracted to Perkins. The two went on double dates (the photos of which can easily be found on the internet). In them it’s clear the boys paid more attention to each other than the girls.

Venetia Stevenson, a young actress that the studio assigned as Hunter’s beard (fake girlfriend) thought Tab was more in love with Tony than Tony was with Tab. Hunter also felt betrayed when Perkins convinced his Paramount to buy a script for him, knowing that Hunter had already played the role on TV and working working to get Warner to buy the script as well. That was the beginning of the end of their relationship.

“You never really knew Tony 100 percent. There was always a secret side, and he was a bit of a game-player with people’s minds,” said Hunter.

Hunter said of his life in Hollywood, “(it) was difficult for me, because I was living two lives at that time. A private life of my own, which I never discussed, never talked about to anyone. And then my Hollywood life, which was just trying to learn my (craft). There was a lot written about my sexuality, and the press was pretty cruel.”

At this point Hunter was feeling unfulfilled with the other roles the studio offered to him. So by 1959, he bought out his contract with Warner Brothers. The consequences of going out on his own was that he didn’t have the power of the studio promoting him. The quality of his films diminished during the 1960s and 1970s.

But in 1989, Tab Hunter had an unexpected career resurgence. Alt director John Waters asked him to star in “Polyester” opposite the ultimate Drag Queen Divine. Hunter’s his agent tried to convince him not to take the role but he decided, “What have I got to lose?”

The film was such a hit that Hunter decided to produce another film himself, costarring Divine. That effort would proved another turning point in his life.

Waters could only afford Hunter for one week. “I’m sure it was the least Tab Hunter had ever been earned on a film, and it was the most I ever paid an actor,” said Waters. “Polyester” was a hit, reviving Hunter’s film career.

While meeting with studios to raise money for what would eventually be call “Lust in the Dust”, Hunter met Allan Glaser, young executive at Fox. Sparks flew and the two soon became partners. Glaser also took on the role as producer of the film.

Hunter and Glaser settle on a ranch in Southern California when Tab regularly enjoyed horse back riding. Although out to friends, Tab was a private man. So he didn’t come out to the public until 2005 when he published his memoir. Hunter and Glaser married in 2013. The two were together for 35 years until Tab’s death in 2018.

#gay icons #tab Hunter #rock Hudson #Tony Perkins #Allan Glaser #divine #polyester #lust in the dust #John waters #in the closet #Natalie Wood #debbie reynolds

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hearteyesbowen · 4 years

Text

elevator mishaps ☆ joshua bassett

requested by: @faithiebrock01 thank u for ur submission !!

when joshua and y/n get stuck in an elevator, there’s nothing else they can do but chat while they’re stuck, but y/n has major anxiety and joshua needs to confess something

warnings: anxiety attacks, one swear word, overall fluff

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“You know you don’t have to take me home, I can just call an uber.” You said to your best friend, Joshua Bassett.

You and Joshua were both walking back from his costar, Matt’s room so he can drop you off at home. Matt wanted to hold a cast party to celebrate the end of season one of High School Musical: The Musical: The Series. You would always visit Joshua on set when he was shooting to bring him lunch, or when he simply missed you and needed your company (which was pretty much all the time). You never minded, you loved hanging out with Joshua, mostly because of your gigantic crush on him since you two have met. He introduced you to his co-stars, and you had grown to love the cast and became a close friend of theirs as well, which is why Matt wanted to invite you too.

It had gotten late, like, you had work in 6 hours and you were too distracted and having too much fun that you lost track of time kind of late. Although you wish you could just call in sick and miss work, you knew you had to go or your guilty conscious would eat you up the rest of the day.

“Are you crazy? It’s 1:00 in the morning and you want to call an uber? You could be kidnapped, or worse! Besides, your car being in the shop is partially my fault, so I owe you one” He argued, pressing the button to the elevator.

“Partially? You backed up my car into a tree as you tried to parallel park.”

“I said I was sorry!” He countered, holding up a finger to you, making you laugh.

You had almost forgetten where you were, and seeing the silver elevator doors made hands start to shake slightly, your anxiety building up. You didn’t want to admit you were scared of the tight space and the idea that if the wires broke you would both fall to your impending doom, but it did cross your mind. You looked around the empty hallway, taking in the details of the monochromatic wallpaper matching the tile floor. You read the sign a few feet away from you that read stair case.

“J, can we just take the stairs? You know how scared I get.” You begged, pointing towards the dark staircase.

“Y/N, that’s like 30 flights of stairs.” He laughed, until he noticed your frightened expression. His face grew softer. “I’m sorry, I know you get scared. But you’ll be with me, I promise there is nothing to worry about.”

Joshua’s hands went around your shoulder and pulled you to his side. He looked down at you, giving you a reassuring smile. You felt your cheeks heat up as you tried to hide your giddy smile.

The elevator dinged, and the two doors slid open. You felt your heart speed up, and not in the usual happy way that Joshua makes you feel. Joshua’s hands fell from your shoulders to your lower back, and he guided you inside. You watched as he pushed the button for the lobby, soon making the the doors close shut. You internally screamed, and stared at the ceiling. The slight shake of the elevator going down startled you, and you instantly latched onto Joshua’s arms. He let out a small laugh under his breath as he gave your arms a small squeeze that made you feel safer. It was his turn to try and hide the blush that crept onto his cheeks.

“See, we’re all good.” He smiled.

You looked up at him and sighed, “I guess so.”

The lights started to flicker, making you both jump. You looked at the small screen indicating the floors you were going, but the red numbers glitched back and forth to different letters and numbers. The elevator floor came to a stop, making you both screech and slightly shook you onto each other. The main lights shut off and left only the small emergency light.

Your felt your heart speed up rapidly, and your body began to shake. Joshua was quick to notice you.

“Hey princess, it’s ok. It’s probably just a small power outage. Press the emergency button.” He said, trying to calm you down from you heavy breathing.

You stared at the buttons until your eyes fell the the red button that had E on it. You pushed the button multiple times, hoping for the lights to turn back on or for help to answer you. Joshua pulled your shaking body away from the buttons and brought you into him as he brought out his phone. You tried to contain your heavy breathing while you stuffed your face into his chest. Your body began to shake as you felt the anxiety building up even more. You only heard the ringing in your ear and the quick tapping on Joshua’s phone.

“Hi, 911? I’m at the Hilton Hotel inside the elevator. The power went out and we’re kinda stuck inside.” You heard his voice say into his phone, trying his best to remain as calm as he could for you so you wouldn’t worry.

You only heard mumbling on the phone, only making out some of the words they said.

“The screen keeps glitching between 19 and 20.” He read. “It’s just me and my girl.” Your eyes grew wide at the name, but after that you couldn’t focus on anything else they were saying.

He ended the call with 911 and looked down at you, “I’m going to call Matt or Olivia, ok? Just stay here and sit down, I’ll be back. Don’t worry Y/N, we’ll be ok.” He whispered in your ear. You only could nod as he let go of you gently.

You stared at his back as he typed on his phone and brought it up to his ear again, watching as one arm held the phone and the other went under his armpit. You felt your legs get heavier, so you slid down against the wall and by the corner of the elevator. Hot tears slowly rolled down your cheeks as you tried to hold in your crying.

Panic attacks aren’t new to you. You used to get them often as a kid when you were left alone, but it was never this bad. In fact, they started to grow worse as you grew up, and you would always overthink the worst of things. The fear of being lived out would haunt you every night. You would text Joshua about this when you felt another panic attack was happening, so he would either facetime you or if possible, drive over to your apartment.

“Yeah, hi. Uhm, I don’t know how to explain this, but Y/N and I are sort of stuck in the elevator.” Joshua mumbled into the phone, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m fine, but Y/N is getting some pretty bad anxiety. I’ll be fine taking care of her here and I already called 911 so they should be coming and getting us in like ten minutes. Just meet us here, yeah? Ok, see you.”

Joshua hung up and turned around, only to see you completely broken down. He quickly shoved his phone in his pocket and kneeled down in front of you, holding your shivering body in his. He rubbed his hands on your back and you let out relentless cries. He took the black denim jacket he wore and placed it over your shoulders in hopes that it would make you feel warmer and safer.

“It’s ok, princess, it’s ok. We’re going to be fine. I promised you we would be fine, and when have I ever broken a promise?” He whispered, bringing you closer to him. Your sobbing started to slow down, feeling your head get dizzy. You steadily gained back your senses, and the panic lessened as you snuggled deeper into Joshua’s chest.

“I’m right here, Y/N. You know I’ll never leave you or let anything happen to you. I could never live with myself if I did that. I love you too much.” He babbled, not realizing what he just confessed.

Your eyes grew wide and you looked up, noticing his flushed cheeks. He gave you a worried smile, and gently held your face in his soft hands. You felt as he soothingly wiped the tears off your stained cheeks, hoping you didn’t look like a monster with your smeared makeup. Did Joshua Bassett, my best friend, just tell me he loved me? Am I dreaming? Have I ascended?

“Do you want to lie down, princess?” He offered, hoping his confession didn’t disgust you. You only nodded, and slowly moved away from him so he could properly sit down and let you lay on his lap.

You laid on his leg, using his coat as a blanket from the cold elevator floor. Joshua stroked your hair peacefully, humming and softly singing tunes that he knows calms you down when you get anxiety. All this happened while you still tried to process what he said. Your best friend, the boy you met at the coffee shop you work at, the boy who spilled his drink all over you as he tried to leave, the boy you’ve had a crush on since you became friends, loved you back.

You sat in silence for a few minutes, you both trying to figure out what to do. You have probably been in the elevator for 20 minutes already. Suddenly the anxiousness came back. You didn’t know why, which made it all the more frightening. Joshua felt your breathing under his arm speed up.

“J?” You murmered.

“Yes?”

“Can you distract me? The quietness is making me feel worse and I don’t want to overthink more.” You pleaded, sitting up and fixing your hair that must have been all tangled and messy.

He opened his arms and let you sit up next to him, and you snuggled into his side. “Remember when I spilled my coffee all over you three years ago?”

You let out a breathy laugh, “Yeah, your steaming hot coffee that took me way too long to make?”

“Sorry about that, Y/N, but I was just so distracted by you.” He confessed, rubbing his head from the possibly headache this situation has brought upon him.

“How could I have distracted you? My uniform is no where near cute.” You asked.

“Everything about you is cute. Your soft hair, your really pretty eyes, your adorable smile. I get so easily distracted by you every time I see you.”

“You’re pretty cute too, you know.” You replied, giving him a small smile.

“Oh yeah?” He asked hopefully.

“One hundred percent, yes. I absolutely love your hair, it’s probably my favorite physical feature of yours.” You rambled, “Plus, you’re the sweetest person in the world. You’re super funny, and so smart, it’s probably why I love you so much.” You decide you admit.

He stared at you with wide eyes. You instantly regretted your choice. The fear consumed you once more, and suddenly being in an elevator that could kill you was the least of your problems.

“You probably didn’t mean it the way I did, god I’m so stupid. I-I’m so sorry I probably just ruined everything.” You panicked.

“Y/N,” He started, grabbing one of your hands.

“No, no I’m so fucking dumb.” You trembled, getting up from the floor and backing up into the other corner. Joshua hurriedly jumped up and walked up to you.

“Y/N, listen to me.” He begged, and you stopped, staring at his soft eyes with your red ones.

Joshua gave you a loving smile before he placed his large hands on either side of your waist and brought you in for a long kiss. You were surprised, your eyes still open from shock until you relaxed into his lips and kissed him back. Your hands went to his cheeks, bringing him closer to you. You tried to slowly pull away to look at him, but Joshua didn’t want that. One of his hands left your waist and went to your chin, bringing you back to his soft lips. You deepened the kiss, tilting your head to get even closer to him.

You were both so caught up in each other’s embrace that you didn’t notice the lights of the elevator coming back on. The elevator ding is what brought you back to reality and the machine moved down for the slightest second, making you both pull apart. The doors quickly slid open and you saw the three firefighters and the rest of Joshua’s castmates standing outside the elevators. The firefighters quickly escorted you out and an EMT rushed to you, giving you a water bottle and guiding you to the closest chair. The man asked you questions, like if you could breathe properly and checked your heart rate. Olivia, Sofia, Julia, and Dara rushed to your side, checking on you more than the EMT could. You saw Matt, Frankie, Larry, and Joe pat Joshua’s shoulders as they brought him into a small circle to talk.

“Are you ok, babe? We heard how bad it was for you in there.” Dara asked as Olivia gave you an advil from the paramedic and Sofia rubbed your back. Julia thanked the man as he packed his stuff.

“Yeah, I’m a lot better now. J helped me a lot.” You gave them a big smile, remembering the kiss you shared with him.

Sofia tried her best to rub the smeared mascara off of you with the makeup wipe Julia had, “Speaking of Josh, what happened between you two?”

“Nothing, he just helped me with my anxiety. He’s really an amazing guy.” You answered, catching Joshua’s glance at you, making you both smile at each other.

➢➣ ➢➣

“Maybe you should just call in sick, you’re not going to get enough rest by the time you have to go to work.” Joshua pleaded as he walked over to your side of his car.

“I’ll be fine, J. I can live off of three hours of sleep.” You joke.

Joshua softly pushed you up against the car, his hands grabbing at your waist, yours on his chest. “Or you can just come back home with me, call in sick, and we cuddle the rest of the day.” He mumbled.

You leaned up to give him a short, sweet kiss. You rested your forehead against his, “I think I can do that.”

He let out a small cheer as he opened your door for you, helping you in. He ran around to his side and started the car.

“And you wanted to take the stairs.” He joked, his hand resting on your thigh.

“Shut up, Troy Bolton.”

A/N - here it is ! my first request ! i actually managed to finish writing this lol i hope u like it faith, i kinda tweaked it a bit to how i experienced panic attacks, i hope u dont mind (: but i hope y’all like this one, and send me any requests for any more imagines . the next update will be a part 2 of practicing lines since y’all requested it !! i’ll have more time to write since im sick and i get to stay home tomorrow so hopefully i can get the next update this week ((: love u guys xx

#ricky bowen imagine #ricky bowen x reader #ricky bowen #ricky bowen blurbs #ricky bowen fluff #ricky bowen angst #ricky bowen oneshot #joshua bassett imagine #joshua bassett x reader #joshua bassett #joshua bassett oneshot #joshua bassett blurbs #joshua bassett fluff #hsmtmts imagine

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royallyprincesslilly · 5 years

Text

Title: Unprofessional Part 2 {Headcanon}

Chris Evans x Co-star Reader

Warning: Angst

Words: 2.2k

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two months. He’d avoided you for two months. He didn’t know how he’d been successful with it but he had. He’d skipped the wrap party the following night then flew out the next morning. He was way too mortified to face you. Instead he sent a floral arrangement and an apology note.

When you got the flowers, you were confused who they could be from, but you took notice that they were you favorites. They were breathtakingly gorgeous and smelled even better. When you opened the note and read his words you felt bad for him.

“Y/N, I am incredibly sorry for what happened on set. I am sorry for my lack of professionalism. Nothing like that has ever happened to me before. It was no way a reflection of my respect for you. I respect you as a human and a woman and I am ashamed and embarrassed by my actions. I understand if you’re unable to forgive me. I just needed to apologize to you and express to you my deepest regret for what happened. Chris.”

When you read the words the two parts that stuck out was that something like that had never happened before and that he regretted it. Yes, the after effect was awkward and shocking but you couldn’t deny or hide the fact that you were attracted to him, or that when his hands were on your body you didn’t want him to stop. You couldn’t pretend that you were seconds away from coming yourself and you definitely couldn’t act like you regretted it. You regretted nothing. Some part of you thought that his regret was a sign of his indifference to you and a sign that he didn’t like you like that.

So just like that you went your way and he went his. You moved on to other projects but you never not thought about him and the night on set and what could have happened had there been no crew around. It was hard to ignore his existence he was everywhere and everyone seemed to be in love with him. So you saw him on gossip blogs, late night tv, YouTube, magazines, it was impossible to not see his face. You didn’t mind, it was a beautiful face.

It was harder for him. He literally had wet dreams every night for the last two months. It was like the night on set was his trigger and he was unable to put the cap back on his desire for you. So, he found himself aroused whenever he thought of you, or saw your picture and in the industry, he came across your image often. After the first month he got tired of it and thought maybe all he needed was the feel of someone else.

So, he made plans to do just that. When they made it to the room things weren’t going normally but he ignored it and pushed ahead but he couldn’t get his mind in it, he couldn’t stop seeing your face when he kissed her but envisioning your face didn’t help him below the belt. After ten minutes of her trying to get him hard with no success he decided to call it and leave.

When Chris went home that night you were on the tv in a commercial for some perfume. You were in a bathtub and with your leg hanging over the edge swirling around the water that was filled with flowers and in seconds he was hard. That pissed him off even more but it didn’t stop him from masturbating to that stupid commercial that clearly had nothing to do with perfume.

The night he bumped into you again for the first time in two months was at a Mavs and Lakers game. You were there with some guy and he caught you before you fell because of him. Your eyes locked with his and everything he’d been feeling for the last few months bombarded him.

“Chris, hi.”

“Hey.”

The tension between the two of you was clear. Chris couldn’t maintain eye contact for longer than a few seconds if that and your eyes always seemed to drift down his chest to his crotch. You couldn’t help it.

“You okay Y/N?” Your date for the night came over finally realizing you weren't behind him.

“Yeah, all good. I have a guardian angel.” You smiled warmly at Chris but he didn’t return it, instead he kept his jaw clenched and his eyes cold. That was a first.

“Guardian angel huh, thought that was me.” Chris wasn’t amused by this guy. He watched him as his hand wrapped around your hip and held on possessively. Every territorial instinct in him wanted to act like a world class asshole but you weren’t his property. In all honesty you weren’t anything to him.

“Enjoy your night Y/N.” It was short but oh well. He turned and walked away and went across the court to where his friends were. When he sat, he realized he was in direct sight of you. He watched you sit and cross your legs and watched as the guy you were with leaned to your ear and whispered to you. You laughed but it didn’t look like a genuine one. You looked across to him and kept eye contact but he broke it before he found himself in a situation.

Throughout the game he split his attention between the game and you. No matter how hard he tried to pay attention to the score and the plays it was useless, you always drew his attention. The guy you were with was enthralled in the game and you were occasionally. He cheered on the Lakers but you cheered the visiting team. He found is funny because the man you were with didn’t seem to appreciate it. It didn’t keep him from touching you and whispering to you.

From where he was, he couldn’t tell if you liked the attention or if you were over it. Occasionally your eyes met his and every time they did you did something to draw his attention to some part of your body, your legs, your lips, your cleavage. The grown, red blooded male in him said you did it on purpose but there was a part of him that doubted it. By the end of the game the visiting team had won and you’d made your escape before he could see where you disappeared to. It didn’t matter you were on his mind for the rest of the night.

A week after you’d seen Chris at the basketball game you made it to a friend’s get together convinced it would be what you needed to cut lose and relax. You hoped it would work as a reprieve for your salacious dreams and masturbation sessions. It was getting out of hand and to be honest you were at the end of your patience.

You did a lap around the space saying hello to familiar faces and taking pictures and being the social butterfly you were. That one lap took nearly forty minutes. Sneaking away from a group of your friends you beelined it to the bar. You needed a drink in the worst way. When you got to the bar you leaned on it as you scrolled through your phone. When you looked to your left there was Chris.

He looked good as he nursed a glass of brown liquor. When he tipped the glass to his lips and emptied it you stared at his lips, they were red, plump and perfect. When he lowered the glass, he signaled the bartender raising his glass. The bartender looked to you.

“What can I get for you?” Chris looked to you and the expression on his face went from a slightly bored to awareness.

“I’ll have a beer, and what he’s having.”

“You sure you can handle what I have?”

You smirked hearing a double meaning behind his words. You reached for his mostly empty glass and tipped it to your lips and allowed the last drops to coat your tongue. You recognized the taste.

“Whiskey. Interesting. I didn’t take you as a whiskey man.” You nodded to the bartender letting him know your decision was final.

“What kind of man did you take me as?” His eyes watched you as you slid on top of the stool and crossed your legs. They remained glued to your exposed thighs. When he looked at you it was just with his cornflower eyes.

“Not whiskey, beer maybe.” Chris laughed and shook his head.

“So, you thought I was boring.”

“Oh god no, I know for a fact you’re not boring. Remember I spent seven months with you. I know how adventurous and spontaneous you can be.” You were teasing him. He could tell. He decided to just cut to the chase and address the elephant in the room.

“Y/N, look I'm sorry about what happened on set. I'm very sorry, it was unacceptable and unprofessional and--.”

“You regret it.” The bartender placed a bottle of Corona and two glasses of whiskey in front of you. You took up the bottle and began chugging the beer. For some reason you hated hearing how much he regretted what happened.

“Well--yeah. It goes away from what I stand for.” His words were slow as he watched you drink down the beer without taking a breath. He was strangely turned on seeing you knew how to handle a bottle of beer. His eyes locked on your lips wrapped around the spout and his pants became a little tighter.

You put the bottle on the bar and looked at him. “And what do you stand for if it’s not getting erections while filming and licking your costar’s nipples and coming on them?” It was bold, it was purposely done. You were tired of this state of limbo. The look on his face showed how embarrassed he was. He drank down his whiskey and you did the same with yours.

You didn’t hang around too long, opting to go back to mingling. Soon you were dancing, singing and laughing with everyone else. The entire night Chris was always in your eye sight. You saw his eyes roam your body, saw the way he looked at you, and even saw the way he occasionally nudged his hips forward and rearranged his pants.

The end of the night came at nearly two in the morning. Your inhabitations were definitely gone and the only thing you could think about was riding Chris Evans. As you turned to find him you bumped right into him. His hands gripped you; one at your hip the other around your waist. Your eyes locked with his and you recognized the look in his eyes, it was the same from that night on set.

“For someone who regrets touching me, you sure do it a lot.”

He couldn’t fully understand what you meant but he grasped most of it.

“I never said I regretted touching you Y/N.”

“Of course, you did.” You tried to pull away from him but he held you firm.

“No. I said I regretted my unprofessionalism; it was unacceptable in that situation.”

The silence between you stretched but it wasn’t an uncomfortable one, it was a loud one where you both spoke in far better ways than with words.

“I regret overstepping especially seeing you have a boyfriend.”

You literally shook your head while rapidly blinking your eyes. “Say what now?”

Chris lets you step back from him creating a small amount of space between you. “What boyfriend?”

“The one that visited you on set, or the one from the other night. You tell me.”

You smiled as it all became clear. He thought you had a boyfriend this entire time. He thought he had to stay away from you, that you were the one not interested. A smile spread across your face.

“I don’t have a boyfriend. Ryan is my ex; we broke up almost a year ago. And the other night Miles was just a date, and one that won’t have another.” Chris searched your eyes then his eyes dropped to the floor.

“You crossed no line, you didn’t overstep. I don’t regret it.”

A plethora of emotions rushed across his face, shock, relief, happiness, then the look from the night on set was the final one.

“Follow me home?” You stared at him waiting for him to answer. You were inebriated enough to put yourself out there and right now you really didn’t want to do the job yourself—not again. You wanted him to.

Chris stepped to you, closing the space between you with his eyes locked on yours. “What for?” You could smell the whiskey on his breath but it mixed with the scent of whatever cologne he wore. It was subtle, masculine but completely captivating. You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip as anticipation filled you.

“I have another job you can start and finish right now.” It was a good enough line for the movie, so why the hell not now? He smiled then licked his lips and you wanted your lips on his pronto.

“What job is that?”

You closed the space between your faces and went to his ear and whispered your address then you bit his earlobe and walked away. Confident there was no way to misunderstand your meaning you tried not to hurry to your car too much not wanting to give away just how much you wanted him and how anxious you were to get rid of nine months of desire.

#unprofessional headcanon #chris evans headcanon #Chris Evans

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fluffyunicornofdanger · 4 years

Text

Bad Reputation

A/n: Long time, no see. God, life has been a mess since the last fic I wrote. I know I don’t owe an explanation but I think I’ll give you guys one later because some shit that happened to me is shit that some of y’all need to hear. ANYWAY, I’m back now! Hopefully I’ll be more active on here. And yeah.

*~~~*~~~*

Masterlist

Axl Rose x Reader

Summary: Being Broadway actress was all Y/n ever dreamed of. The lights and the thousands of eyes on her was a dream come true. But not all dreams are meant to be. Traveling the country to find her new dream, she stumbled upon the destructive leader singer of a rock band. She didn’t know it, but he had a lot to do with her knew dream. If only their reputations didn’t get in the way of it.

Word Count: 2.5 k

Warnings: None

The crowd cheered as the cast took their final bow. Flowers weren’t thrown on the stage like in the movies, everyone was tired. The night had been long and the audience wanted to venture back to their beds. As good as the show was, everyone wanted to be anywhere else. Before the cast could straighten, velvet red curtains danced across the stage, signaling the end of the show.

Y/n breathed a sigh of relief, brushing a loose curl out of her face. The corset that had been restricting her would finally come off and her hair would be able to flow freely.

Normally, she never complained. No one else but herself forced her onto the stage. Everything, the lights, the costumes, the acting, the singing, that was all what she had been dreaming of. She was the one that worked her way to that point. To be standing in the middle of the stage with all eyes on her. It was a dream come true.

But dreams change…

It was hard to pinpoint the exact moment in time when she wanted to start over, but it wasn’t hard for her to tell that her old dream was dead. There came a point when being on stage singing in ridiculous costumes made her feel like a fool. She no longer was the queen watching the jester dance. Instead, she was the jester dancing and singing for the queen. She no longer felt like the broadway star that everyone made her out to be. Y/n felt more and more like a puppet, doing what she was told to do.

“What are you gonna do now that the shows over?” her costar, Cindy, asked as they stripped off their oversized dresses.

Y/n shrugged. “Beats me.”

Cindy shook her head. “Would’ve thought you’d already have another show planned out. I’m going to go to London for a couple of months, maybe try out for a show there.”

That sounded like a good plan. Once the idea had crossed Y/n’s mind to pick up and move to London. The shows there were just as grand as those on Broadway, if not bigger. The fame she would come across by doing that, oh Lord, it would be a dream.

“I think I’m going to travel around a bit. See what feels right.”

“What about everything you have here? Your apartment, your stuff?” Cindy asked.

“Well,” she thought for a moment. “I think I’m gonna invest in a car, a fast one. I’m thinking red or black. And I’m going to sell all my furniture. What I wish to keep I’ll keep in storage. I’ll have to pick through my clothes. All my big fancy dresses will probably be sold. I’ll only keep what I can fit comfortably in the car and what I’ll wear.”

“What makes you think this is a good idea?”

Y/n shrugged, grabbing a towel to get the makeup off her face. “I don’t know.”

Cindy scoffed, “Don’t die because of you’re foolish idea, Y/n. That would be a horrible way to go.”

Y/n rolled her eyes as Cindy walked away.

It did seem foolish, she had to admit. Rash, unplanned and unprepared. But her gut was telling her that it was time to leave New York. The big city wasn’t the place for her, not anymore. She needed the open road and unexplored cities. She needed clean air and a different way of life. She needed everything that New York couldn’t offer her. Everything that she pretended to be when she stood on the stage. What Y/n needed was to find herself, not who everyone wanted her to be.

She needed to find who her heart believed she was.

*~~~*~~~*

It didn’t take long for Y/n to clear her apartment out and sell everything that needed to be gone. Everything was in good shape, almost brand new, as she was never home to use anything. It was hard for her to part with some of her dresses, but she knew better than to think that she would ever use them again. The life she once had was no more.

All of her belongings consisted of a shoebox full of pictures, letters, and notebooks, a couple pairs of shoes, a suitcase packed full of shirts, pants, dresses, and whatever other clothing she decided she needed. Another suitcase had books and sheet music. The last thing Y/n packed into the black 1965 Mustang, that she’d bought off a horder in Buffalo, was her guitar. Cindy told her it wasn’t worth bringing, but it was hard to part with. That was what made her want to pursue theater.

Throughout her childhood, Y/n had been told that music and theater weren’t worth pursuing. They were only hobbies to be enjoyed at home. Suzi Quatro and The Runaways proved to her that what she wanted was worth pursuing. No dream was too small with rock stars as role models.

Y/n shut the trunk of the car and made her way to the driver’s seat, twirling the keys around her finger as she went. Sliding in she, smiled to herself at everything around her. This was her freedom.

She started the car, feeling the roar of the engine under her fingers that landed on the steering wheel. Turning the radio on, “Black Betty” by Ram Jam filled the cab. Y/n couldn’t help but sit there for a minute. She knew this was what she was meant to do. This trip would change her for the better, she knew it. Or it would leave an everlasting impression on her. Either were what she was looking for.

“Here we go.”

*~~~*~~~*

It had been a few months since Y/n had started her trip. Going up and down the east coast had been fun. She stopped in Flordia for a week and learned to surf. As much as she thought it would cure her fear of the ocean, it did no such thing. It didn’t help that everyone there went on and on about sharks in the area. She also stopped in North Carolina to watch NASCAR. That was an experience she wasn’t likely to forget.

Fast cars and the wind in her hair was a feeling she loved. It was an odd feeling of freedom that she hadn’t know to exist.

Though the east coast was a delight, there was more to the U.S. than that. So, as manifest destiny allowed, she headed west. And that is how she ended up in Los Vegas.

It wasn’t her intent to go to Sin City, but that’s where she was forced to stop when her engine started acting up. She was told her car would take a few days to be repaired as a part had to be ordered. So, she was left to find some means of entertainment.

That is what lead to Y/n walking around the city with no set destination.

She window-shopped, sometimes going into stores to look at dress or shoes. Every once in a while she came across a bar and decided to get a taste for it. None of them were anything fancy. A haze of smoke obstructed her vision in each that she entered. The crowds in them were all different. Some had men in suits and ties, just looking for a place to kick back for a while. Others had half-naked women and men that looked rough around the edges.

Y/n came across a shop that caught her eye. There was something about it, the rough exterior, that made her open the door and browse around. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, everything was ripped and ragged, but she’d find it.

“Oh, now this is it,” she smiled and grabbed a leather jacket off a rack.

Something about the item spoke to her and she had to have it.

Y/n had decided along the Flordia-Georgia border that this trip was all about what felt right. If there wasn’t a good feeling behind doing it than it wasn’t meant to be done. Life does work in mysterious ways, she’d determined, with added effort, of course. So, what was meant to be would be.

Three hours had passed since purchasing the jacket. It was now 7 o’clock at night and she still hadn’t found a place to stay, not that she was looking. Pulling out a pack of cigarette she’d bought earlier, she pulled one out of the pack and lite it. She put it to her lips and took a drag, watching the smoke flutter past her, before spotting yet another bar. It didn’t look much better than any of the others she’d visited, but with nowhere to go, it really didn’t matter.

Y/n crossed the street, watching as people danced around her, all in their own little worlds. The only thing that had come out of being stuck in Los Vegas was that she learned that the world was full of people who were happy doing their own thing.

Those were her people.

They didn’t seem to have a care in the world, any clock to worry about, as they walked around. That’s how Y/n had always wanted things to be. Calm and relaxing. But that wasn’t how her life had turned out. It dawned on her that it took money and zero stress to be at that level.

She pulled the door open to be met by a cloud of smoke that hovered over everything. Everyone she saw had a cigarette in hand. It was good to know she wouldn’t have to put her’s out. Walking up to the bar, she slide onto a barstool and let her eyes wander.

There was a group of three older men in a corner both that all looked like bikers. Their hair looked like the wind had got the better of it, tossing it around. A man and woman sat on the far end of the bar. Y/n didn’t have to look long to see there were hearts in their eyes. She didn’t get far in her observations before a loud ruckus pulled her attention away. Around a pool table, at the far end of the room, stood five men, by how they were acting some would call them boys.

Y/n rolled her eyes. They looked ridiculous with their hair teased up and messy. And they wore all sorts of colors. Each one of them had a different array of colors, some clashed and some didn’t. But she couldn’t judge, she’d worn worse.

Turning away from them, she caught the bartender’s attention and ordered a drink. Y/n had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

*~~~*~~~*

She was a few drinks in, the world was only spinning slightly. It was a good thing that she stayed away from vodka. With that in her glass, she knew she would likely be on the floor.

There were too many times, after shows, that she would order vodka and have no recollection as to what had happened the next morning. That only became a problem when she’d done a few things that ended up in the paper. Her manager didn’t want her to ruin her reputation, so vodka went out the window.

Y/n was just starting to wonder if it was a good time to leave. She was almost done with her drink and she knew if the bartender came back she would order another and that wasn’t what she wanted. Before she could move though, someone slide into the seat next to her.

“What’s a girl like you doing here by yourself?” A rough voice asked her.

She couldn’t help but chuckle. A girl like herself? Like what? She didn’t look like any girl that was expected to be anywhere else. Y/n had stripped herself of what had held her to that standard. She was a nobody just like everybody else.

There was no reputation to uphold where she was.

Turning to face the person, she was shocked to see it was one of the men from the pool table. From this proximity, she saw how red his hair was and how it turned gold under the light. It was probably the liquor running through her blood, but for a second, the mess of a man looked like an angel. Shaking her head, the image went away. “0h, you know,” she drawled. “Just wishing life would work out for me,” she said dramatically.

Moments like that, when around complete strangers, Y/n found it fun to slip into characters. No one would know the difference. She could be anyone she wanted. She could be a seamstress from Paris, a duchess from England, a professor from Harvard. The world was whatever she made it as long as she had an audience.

“Life’s not going your way?” The ginger laughed. “Not the only one.”

“I’m well aware. But the world is what you make it. It only sucks when you think it does.”

“Is that so?”

“I assume.”

The ginger nodded, looking around the bar. His friends, at least Y/n assumed so, had taken a seat at a booth and were too engrossed in conversation to pay him any mind.

“What brought you over here?” Y/n asked, wondering why he left his friends to sit next to her. She didn’t look like the girl worth ditching friends for.

He shrugged, “Who wouldn’t want to sit next to a beautiful girl?”

Y/n couldn’t help but scoff. That line had been used on her countless times at the bars she’d go to after her shows. “Is that the best you’ve got?”

The man laughed, “ Oh, that certainly isn’t the best I’ve got. But I can’t give that away for free, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

“I’m Axl,” he extended his hand out to her.

She grasped it, “Y/n.”

Axl smiled, “I like that name.”

Y/n didn’t know why, but that there was something about Axl that made her want to sit next to him for hours and do nothing but talk. They hadn’t even exchanged many words so she wasn’t sure where the feeling came from. They were simply doing what strangers in bars do, try and make each other less lonely.

As if fate were trying to prevent anything more, Y/n turned to see the clock on the wall. It was late, way too late for her to want to stay out any longer. There were a few places she wanted to visit before her car was fixed and if she woke up early there would be just enough hours in the day to do everything. Though she had no place to stay, there was a hotel around the corner that had to have at least one open room.

“Oh, god. It’s late. I really should be going.” Y/n stood from the bar and placed enough cash on the table to cover her tab. “I’m sorry, Axl.”

He waved it off, almost like he expected an ending like this. “Do you think I’ll ever see you again?”

Y/n smiled, “ I think you just might.”

Before slipping out of the bar she waved back at the ginger, she had a gut feeling that Axl would cross her path again. If the cards worked out in her favor, she would at least see him one more time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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idontknowhowtowritesosorry · 5 years

Text

Señorita

Description: What if Camila couldn’t make the video, so you had to fill in instead?

Shawn Mendes x Reader

A/N: I’m actually kinda proud of if this? I stayed up way too late finishing it. Italics are inner thoughts.

Word count: about 3.5k

-----

Shawn knew he should have been listening to Andrew, but he couldn’t help himself. It was late, he had just finished the vocals for señorita, and he had a show tomorrow. So as Andrew started listing what was coming up the following week, Shawn simply dazed off, allowing himself to sink further into his pillow.

“So we have three more shows this week, an interview with..,” his manager recites, eyes darting from his phone to the man staring off.

“Shawn! Are you even listening?”

The boy nearly jumps, attention moving to where Andrew stood,” Um, yeah of course.”

Rolling his eyes he continues,” So you heard me talk about señorita? And the changes being made?”

Shawn nods his head, but the manager knows better. There was no way that Shawn had heard Camila wouldn’t be there for the video, she had gotten stuck working on her album. Whether or not Shawn would be thrilled about a new actress y/n, he did not know, but he would find out soon enough.

-----

It was just over a week later, and Shawn now sat in a makeup chair, clad in a leather jacket. He was humming along to a song playing over the radio, waiting for the hair stylist to finish up the finishing touches. A few interns were running around, mumbling about directors that needed coffee or set changes that needed to be made. Here, Shawn felt content, ready to be behind the camera.

That is until he overhears the mention of y/n. Someone had just passed by, stating how y/n had just finished in makeup and was now behind the camera. Y/N? Where was Camila?

Shawn quickly turns his head, probably angering the girl working on his hair, but too curious to care. “Whose y/n?”

The man that had previously been talking seemed taken aback. Whether it be from the Shawn Mendes talking to him or the idea of the Shawn Mendes not knowing about his co-star. “She’s the girl filling in for Camila,” he then explains.

Shawn’s eyebrows scrunch, confusion lacing his features. “Where’s Camila?”

“I was told that she got stuck in the studio, something about finishing her album.” The man’s phone then rang, and as he hesitates to answer it, Shawn assures him it was fine.

He hurries off as Shawn sits back in his chair again, the stylist letting out a relieved sigh that she could now finish his hair. Why wasn’t I told Shawn thought, eyes widening when he realizes Andrew had probably mentioned it that night he wasn’t paying attention. Mental note, listen to your manager.

A few seconds later he was being called towards the set, and as he hurries off, he wonders when he would get to meet y/n.

---

After what felt like forever, you were finally done with the first few scenes. It felt weird, you taking Camila’s place. Lip syncing her words, as you danced upon a wall as if they were your own. However, when you, a small-time actress, are offered a chance to act with Shawn Mendes, you take it.

That didn’t make it any less awkward though. You hadn’t even met him yet, but in a few short hours, you would have to be all over him.

“Y/N, time to get to the next set,” someone calls.

Shortly after, you find yourself in a waitress outfit, a small restaurant scene surrounding you. It was easy to tell how this video would go, the song was pretty blatant about it. Shawn would show up, take you home, and then leave. My god you just wanted to leave right about now, but you had a job to do.

A few whispers rise amongst the group of people standing behind the camera, he’s here you think. Before you have the chance to see him, you are ushered away by the director to a back hallway.

“Okay y/n, I need you to walk down the hallway, putting your hair up. Then just grab the platters on the table you pass, and serve them to the booth that’s going to be in front of Shawn.”

You nod, and the man continues,” We went out of our way to make sure you guys haven’t met yet, we need this to seem real. Just make eye contact, check him out a bit, and then walk back. He’s gonna follow your gaze, but we need you to keep calm, got it?”

You again nod and he walks off, most likely to inform Shawn of what was going to happen. What did I sign up for? How were you supposed to come face to face with a man that looks like that, and not have a reaction? How were you supposed to tangle your hands through that hair later?

Before you have a chance to think any further, a voice yells action. A camera emerges, and you take a deep breath before you begin to walk. Quickly you pull your hair up, careful not to seem too nervous about meeting your costar. You grab some prop plates, trying your best to just focus on the “customers” in front of you. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him, and you try your best to avoid eye contact as you visit the booth in front of him.

Finally, you set down the platter and look over. Your body nearly freezes. Shwan was nothing less than gorgeous. His hair fell perfectly on his face, white t-shirt and chain hanging off his body just right. It takes everything in you not to shed a smile, but instead, you remain emotionless; Turning away, even though you know his eyes watched you leave.

-----

It takes only a few more takes to get the shot right. Though you knew you probably looked starstruck the first time around, it seemed to wear off. After the director yells cut the final time, you let out a sigh of relief. You made it through one scene, you could do the rest.

As you move to walk back towards the dressing room, Shawn stops you. “Hey,” he grins,” It’s nice to meet you. I’m Shawn.”

You nearly blush, giving him a soft smile as you respond,” Hi Shawn, I’m y/n.” For a second you both stand there, looking at each other as if you don’t know what to say. The man then lets out a chuckle.

“I can’t believe we just met, but we now have to go film a dance scene together.” You begin to laugh, thinking what’s crazier is that I have to make out with you too.

“I know it’s crazy right, well I should probably go get ready. My stylist wasn’t very happy when I was late the last time. I’ll see you later I guess?”

“Yeah, I guess we will,” he states, smiling as he walks towards the crowd of people around the camera.

---

Soon after you are led onto another set. It’s littered with people, Shawn sitting across the room with a guitar in hand. You smile to yourself, watching as he quietly strums what was probably a song in the works. He bites his lip in concentration, before then looking up.

You can feel the heat rushing to your face as he waves, but before you can walk over the director comes in, yelling for everyone to get into place.

Earlier in the week, you had gone over the small bit of choreography with an instructor, but now you couldn’t even recall what the first step was.

You look around again, arms crossed as a group of girls make small talk around you. You’re nervous, it’s blatant, but it was hard not to be.

“Alright,” the director instructs,” The song is going to play, Shawn is going to sing. He will meet eyes with y/n from across the room, walk over, grab her hand. They will dance a bit, and then we move on, got it?”

Around the room, a few people nod, and as you look over at Shawn he gives you a thumbs up with the hand that would soon find itself around your waist.

“Action!”

Land in Miami

The air was hot from summer rain

Sweat drippin' off me

Before I even knew her name, la-la-la

It felt like ooh-la-la-la

As the song plays, you begin to interact with the girls surrounding you. Shawn, in turn, begins to strum, lightly singing along. As the verse goes on, you look over, he does the same. Your eyes catch, your heart jumping out of your chest.

Slowly he makes his way over to you, and as you watch you became painstakingly aware as to just how much of your body was showing through your dress. Finally, he stood in front of you, holding his hand out for you to take.

His calloused fingers meet yours, slowly gliding along your hand as he pulls you in. You spin around, back hitting his hard stomach. For a second you stand there, feeling the way his chest rubs across your back before he then turns you to face him. Your eyes watch his lips as he grabs your hands, moving you even closer. His nose buries itself in your hair, your palms laying flat across shirt.

Slowly you look up, and it takes everything in you to begin to move backward as you were instructed. Immediately you miss his touch, and as you turn on your heel he looks at you longingly. It’s just acting y/n.

-----

You finally get a chance to relax, but it was hard with Shawn sitting right next to you. Why they had just one couch around the set, you did not know, but it was too late to change that now.

You had left your phone with your assistant, who was already on the next set. So as Shawn sat on his phone next to you, you prayed he wouldn’t look over. If he wanted to talk, there was no avoiding it; but, of course, the universe doesn’t care what you want.

“So y/n,” he says, sliding his phone in his pocket,” Where are you from?”

“Just your average American small town, but I moved to LA when I was 18 to pursue acting.”

“Acting eh?”

You laugh, before then moving to explain yourself. “Sorry I just, saying “eh” was very Canadian of you, I wasn’t expecting it.”

He fakes a gasp, before then forming his lips into a pout,” How dare you make fun of my accent. Just to think I was taking a liking to yours.”

“Damn I’m really sorry Shawn, I’ll try to do better next time. But I have to say, I really don’t mind yours all that much.” Yeah because you find it adorable. “I just have to make fun of you to keep my edge, because if I come off as a softie how will I fight for all my roles?”

He rolls his eyes,” Wow there is so much to unload with that statement. One, I can assure you-you aren’t getting roles because you have to fight for them, and two, having an edge has nothing to do with it. You’re an amazing actress, plus you can’t bully directors into giving you a job.”

You bite your lip,” So, you really think I’m an amazing actress huh.”

Chuckling, he asks,” So that’s what you got out of that? You know, I think I deserve a compliment as well.”

He raises an eyebrow at you, and you pretend to consider what you might say,” I don’t know Shawn, I can’t think of a single thing to compliment you on. You don’t have any outstanding talents, so I’ll have to get back to you on that one.”

Before he has a chance to sass you, a few stagehands interrupt. “They need you at the next set.”

-----

The two of you head towards your dressing areas, and after a quick change, you are emerging into your new surroundings. Taking a look around, you notice the stage appeared to be a nearly empty restaurant, vacant tables filling the floor. The lighting was dim, a pink glow cast by the neon lights.

Shawn emerges on the other side, and you can’t help but think about what was about to happen. Just five minutes ago you had been laughing with him, but now his hands would be making their way up your body.

The two of you are led to opposite sides of the room, and Shawn sticks his tongue out you as the director begins to talk.

“Second to the last scene guys, you are all doing great. So Shawn and y/n will walk towards each other, you guys should both know the choreography after that. Dance a bit, Shawn will push y/n up against that wall,” he says motioning to his right, you avoiding eye contact with the boy across from you as he continues. “Now, don't be afraid to get touchy guys, we have to sell this.”

You’re glad the room is tinted red so that Shawn, along with just about everyone else in the room, doesn’t see the was your cheeks flush. Finally, you get the courage to look up at him. He smiles, his jaw then clenching as he looks around. He was nervous, maybe he likes you too? No, of course he doesn’t, he could have anyone, why you?

“Action!” In a second you feel calm, knowing you still have to get the job done. Your lips start moving as you walk towards him, eyes never leaving his as you take his hand. He pulls you in, your fingers finding their way to his neck as your body pushes against him. He feels warm, and you wish he would hold you like this forever. But the dance moves on, your hand trailing down towards his before you move backward, letting him hold on to you as you dip.

He then turns you, your back pressing against his stomach. You can feel the way he towers over you, and as your hands make their way to the side of his head, his own find your thighs. As they slide up, he pulls as the fabric of your skirt, fingers tickling your sides. They drag across the sides of your chest, then trailing up your arms. He takes your hands in his, pulling them back down towards your waist.

He then moves to tilt your face towards his. That wasn’t scripted, was it? The two of you meet eyes as he turns you around, again pulling apart. Here it comes you think, feeling the way his fingers glide through your hair. He looks at you with a new found passion as you jump into his arms.

Your hands snake across his neck, his own making their way around your waist. You can feel the way they hold you tight, scared they might let you fall. It’s hard to keep your mind clear, the lyrics seem to become jumbled. You wanted so badly to just kiss him right then and there and you can feel your legs tighten around his waist.

His breath hitches as he spins you, your back hitting the wall as you finally give yourself the relief of running a hand through his hair. His hands trail to your backside, your foreheads pressing against each other. You trace your fingernails down his chest, and as you head tilts back towards the wall he presses his body closer. The lasts lines finally finish, with your lips oh so close to touching, bodies pushed as close together as they could be.

“Cut!” In a second Shawn moves his face from yours, lips forming into a smile as he looks at your messy hair.

“You did amazing y/n,” he states, your pulse picking up.

“Sorry Shawn, I just think your acting abilities pale to mine.” Your sass causes him to laugh, head tilting back as you feel the way his stomach moves.

For a second he pauses, before then realizing he was still holding you up. “Well, I guess I should, um, put you down now.”

“I hadn’t even realized you were still holding me,” you giggle, allowing Shawn to loosen his grip so you could slip out of his arms.

Again there’s an awkward pause before you both begin to speak at the same time. “I better go..-”

You both make eye contact, smiles on your lips. “Okay, I’ll see ya, eh?” He says, exaggerating the eh as he stalks off towards his manager. For a second you stand there, watching him go. And now I have to deal with him shirtless too?

-----

Last scene. It proved to give you some type of reassurance, though you knew this would be the hardest part. You had just gotten the all clear to head out on set, but when you came face to face with a shirtless Shawn, you wanted to run right back to the dressing room.

“Hey y/n.” You're nearly startled as you look up at the man now in front of you, trying hard not to take one good look up and down.

“Hi, Shawn.” It appears he had the same thought, but instead didn’t try to hide it. Your lungs seem to stop working as he eyes you up and down. He smiles as his gaze makes its way back up to your own, but again you are cut off by the director.

“Okay first let’s get the morning after shot done with, then the night of.”

You find your position at the window, and you can hear the bed dip as Shawn lays down.

“Action.”

You turn around, a soft glow coming from the artificial light through the window. It looks like sunlight as it hits Shawn’s skin, and it begins to feel almost real; like you had just woken up with the boy.

His hand reaches up to shade his face, and after a moment he sits up, lips moving along to the words. You make your way towards him, arms finding the tiny curls at the back of his neck as you move to straddle his lap.

Your lips find their way towards his ear, tracing their way towards his face. Just before they can make their way towards his lips, you are stopped by the director.

“Okay, so this scene is gonna have a lot of overlapping visuals going on, so we are gonna just have to play around with where you guys are positioned. Can the two of you please go stand in front of the window?”

Shawn moves to get up, nearly causing you to fall to the floor. You gasp, him reaching out to catch you.

“Sorry about that,” he explains, letting you detach yourself from him before he stands up.

His hand falls to the square of your back as he leads you to the window, where the two of you turn to face each other.

“Y/N, I need you to just wrap your arms around him and kiss him, action!”

Your eyes widen as the director speaks, and as he yells action you nearly flinch. Lean in already. So that’s what you do. His hands reach for yours as you get closer. Your nose brushes against his as your lips finally meet. They seem to mold together perfectly, his tongue tracing your bottom lip.

“Alright that’s good guys,” the director laughs, and as you pull away, you do as well. Neither of you has a chance to say a word before you are again being called from backstage.

-----

The artificial lights begin to dim as the stage is set up. You lean your back against the wall as you watch clothes being positioned around the room, placed just so that they looked to be thrown in a haste.

Shawn makes his way towards the bed, now dressed in a white tank top as well. Within the next few minutes, the final instructions are given and the music starts playing. You begin to sing along, watching as Shawn bites his lip. You feel as though his eyes are burning holes in your skin, and as you inch closer he begins to move; His arms flex as they yank his tank top over his head.

Shawn begins to stand, your arms tracing his biceps as you begin to lift yourself up on your toes; that is until a phone goes off. It’s enough for both you and Shawn to both misstep on the words, and the director yells cut.

“Whoever’s phone that was better turn it off right now before I come over and do it for them! Shawn, y/n, stay right there. We will roll back the music and just finish the scene.”

As they find their place back in the verse, your hands are still buried in Shawn’s hair. His fingers trace patterns on your back as he waits.

You look up at him,” You know Shawn, I think I could compliment you on how well your lips feel against mine.”

“I guess I could say the same,” he mutters, pulling you in closer. He licks his lips, ready for what was about to happen, and as the director yells cut he’s more than happy to push you onto the bed. He leans down on you, lips pressing against yours; but, even though the director yells cut, he isn’t quite done yet.

------

My links always mess up the tags, so my masterlist is in my bio!

#shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes #señorita #senorita #masterlist #shawn #fanfiction #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes fluff

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bestwishes86 · 4 years

Text

A snippet from "The Audition" leave comments and critiques

Best of Me : Book One – Moon

Chapter One – The Audition

One Thousand is the number of head shots and resumes the thirty two year old director and her best friend and sister Luna had looked through for two days while drinking glasses of wine and smoking countless cigarettes. Together the pair had consumed nine bottles of something French before culling that number down to two hundred. Luna, the natural beauty with skin the color of green tea with too much milk in it had done the real leg work. Her fingers were numb from all the typing and retyping of all the names and seeing who had been used in prior work. Who had made 'experimental films' and who had nudes anywhere on the internet. Over dinner the pair had cackled like hens as they watched the films and decided whose penis was the best and whose was the worst.

Any name they found was instantly rejected and the head shot and resume thrown into the shredder. Valentina longed for the day when these celebrity wannabes wised up enough to know.

“Why give it away for free if someone will pay for it,”

Barring those had swiftly brought the candidates list down. But then she was left with two hundred men who she had to pair with the two leading men of the Lakorn film movement, She looked at Luna, the milk tea goddess was dressed in one of her muscle bound husbands shirts which fit her like a dress two sizes too large. Her long thin legs draped across the arm of the brown leather couch while she was on the phone with the hotel they would use for the venue. The shirt, a white with black stripes button down complimented her skin and long, dyed ruby red hair which fell around her half halo face in waves.

Valentina had born as a boy whose name was Kerrin. Kerrin had once been an actor in her early days in the business. She had been born a male, with a femininity that made her stand out from her all boy's school classmates. It had been this that caused them to tease her and hate her. But there was no denying that as a boy she had been sexy. Large doe eyes, high cheek bones, a small button nose and natural light skin the bravest boys would try and share her time. They would secretly be nice to her. It had confused her then because those same boys had been the ones to spit on her or call her names. Her sister Luna had suggested she try acting, since she could lie to their loving and caring parents about her time in school to the point they believed her. Why not? And she did.

Soon her face as Kerrin was one many knew. The soap opera he starred in took off. Money came easy enough then. But she hated every second of it. Smiling for the camera, seeing that stranger's face where her's should be. It had been her wish back then to die. But instead she did the next best thing. She paid an obscene amount of money to a doctor who cut away any trace of Kerrin. It was painful the numerous surgeries, the days of bed rest, the rehabilitation. But what had hurt the worst was when she had gone to see her parents and they had hit and cursed her. Only Luna had defended her and called the man who at that time was named Perth who kicked in the door and beat her father while she lay on her side. Bleeding from where her father's foot had stomped on her head. This was the 2000's and plastic surgery wasn't what it is now, the damage done had called for another round of surgeries and this time Perth had paid for those. But two years later Valentina was born from the boy who never had been in love.

“Val did you fall sleep with your eyes open again,” Luna's soft concern snapped her out of her revelry.

“No just remembering Kerrin, sorry what were you saying,” Valentina asked looking at the empty bottle of wine and wondering if it was too late in the evening for food. Beauty came at a cost and for her it was the freedom to eat whenever she wanted. Standing at six foot without heels, her body was taut from hours in the gym daily, her breasts small and perky and her ass the shape of a healthy apple. She wanted to keep everything in the right place and the right shape.

“Bond is coming tomorrow is that ok,” Luna asked again and Valentina nodded while internally cringing. Luna went back to the phone conversation while Valentina rose from the couch she had been sitting on and walked to the window like wall of glass that framed the loft apartment on one side. Her simple white dress flowed around her as if she were Sailor Moon which was secretly her spirit animal. Her hip length golden blond hair was styled in a similar manner and her eyes were reshaped to look Japanese instead Thai. She reached to the small end table made of glass and metal by her personal couch and picked up her rose gold Iphone and dialed the long password to the phone. Her work phone lay in her work bag, her personal phone was one that only two people had the numbers for. Luna and Titan. They were her friends and the only people she considered family. She tapped Titan's name long changed from Perth and put the phone to her ear as she watched the rain fall down on the city twenty stories below her.

“Hello Beautiful, how was day drinking.” a deep yet soft voice teased her and she felt her eyebrows come together.

“Terrible without my husband, how was your day? Bed any new costars or is it pop singers this year?” Valentina cooed back. The two had known each other since they were little boys, and he had been the only one besides Luna happy to meet Valentina.

“A Gentlemen doesn't kiss and tell,” Titan said back without skipping a beat.

“I'm sorry I must have the wrong number, I thought I was calling Titan the man who couldn't keep his pants up if they were sewn to his skin. Not a Gentleman, I will let you go then,” Valentina said and was surprised by her own tone of voice. The mere mention of the name Bond did this too her.

“Whoa whoa who has got my wife in this state, I will break his legs,” Titan said with amusement but a serious undertone.

“If only you had when you had the chance,' Valentina said and pressed her forehead to the glass.

“What has Bond done now...?” Titan asked knowing instantly who she was thinking of.

“Nothing yet, But you know Bond. He insists on attending the auditions tomorrow. Probably to scare away your future costar.”Valentina said calmer now that the cool glass was touching her skin. Maybe she had drunk too much on an near empty stomach.

“I will be there.” Titan said and Valentina felt a smile cross her face. When they had been children Perth had always come to her aid. No matter how many boys had her cornered Perth would fight for her. Somethings never changed, even if she had.

“No you won't you have costume fitting at the same time as the auditions,” Valentina reminded him as she moved back from the glass and switched over to speaker phone.

“My measurements haven't changed in ten years. I will be there to keep Bond out of your hair like a good man should. Speaking of, have you been on any dates lately,” Titan asked the open air and Luna snorted sitting up at the sound of that question.

“Excuse me...!?” Valentina asked shocked at the question.

“Well neither of us are getting any younger my love and I worry that you're intentionally warding off men with your moods,” Titan explained and Valentina wanted to drop her phone and step on it. Perth had never cared if Kerrin had liked men or women, and made a point to find every boy in the school who preferred steak to chicken and bring them round. None met what he called Kerrin's standards when in all honesty each time it had hurt. Because all Kerrin had wanted was Perth. Now Valentina was nearing that time in her life where honesty and lies were almost the same thing. And still all she wanted was Titan.

“Twenty years later and I still want to throttle you,” Valentina said through gritted teeth.

“But you love me too much to do it, I know. But maybe you should share that love with someone who deserves it.” Titan said and there was no joking in his tone.

“Is this because my birthday is coming up, the one we aren't celebrating,” Valentina asked feeling a rising sense of fear at the mention of it. Titan had always gone out of his way to make her birthday special. And it unnerved her the level of care and effort he put into them. Each year it gave her hope that he would kiss her and she knew that was a silly fantasy.

“You only turn twenty nine 3 times, we agreed this year you become thirty. How can I not use some of the money I made starring in your shows to shower you with unwanted attention from people you believe hate you,” Titan sing songed and Luna giggled and Valentina shot her a death glare.

“Fine Fine, I become Thirty and you and Luna get to see my youth wither and dry, is thirty too soon for menopause?”Valentina asked and all three laughed openly and all thoughts of Bond were forgotten.

---

Valentina is inspired by the Thai transwoman - Blossum and Titan is inspired by Earth P

#novel writing #gay fic #boylove #thai drama #romance #gay writing #gay author #gaylove #gayfic #gay #gaylife #gay men #earth pirapat #i love earth

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mychemicalficrecs · 4 years

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Hi! I have actually two asks :). Do you have any pining/jealousy fics (not conclusions, I’ve read it a million times)? Also any decent dom/fertile fics? Thanks in advance!

Hi Nonny!

This list is mostly pining, not as much jealousy tbh, hope that's ok ;)

Pining

shut up and drive by Trojie, uglowian, Patrick/Mikey/Pete, 140k, Teen And Up Audiences. Pete Wentz is the grid girl, Andy Hurley loves him (not like that), and Jared Leto is the bad guy. A.K.A.: the bandom The Fast and the Furious AU that literally no one asked for.

Holy Wine by Sena, Gerard/Mikey, Frank/Gerard/Mikey, 18k, Explicit. It's the dirtiest thing he's ever done, being in love with his brother, wanting Mikey and watching and waiting, taking what little he can get.

Heart Wrapped in Clover by Sena, Frank/Mikey, 19k, Explicit. Everbody's got their not-so-secret secrets on tour. When you live out of a van, you just can't help but notice things that you shouldn't talk about if you don't want to embarrass your friends or start a fight. Frank wishes sometimes they talked about things, though, because he's dying to ask if anybody else has noticed that sometimes, Mikey wears panties.

Won't Know 'til You Begin by knight_tracer, Sena, Frank/Mikey, 24k, Explicit. In which Frank is an accidental pervert, Mikey sleeps with Fabio, Gerard is much too sincere when talking about pain sluts, Ray is terrible with women and great with guitars, and Otter's got really bad taste in music. Alternately, the one where Frank realizes he has a thing for Mikey, Mikey realizes he has a thing for guys, and they're both adorably stupid failboats.

L For Lucky (M for Mine) by orphan_account, Ray/Mikey, 42k, Explicit. “Yeah, look.” Mikey turns his head to peer at the crowd over his shoulder. “This is going to seem weird, but.” He stares behind him and seems, for a moment, at a loss for words. “Well, there’s no tasteful way to say it.” Mikey looks Ray in the eye and just shrugs. “This is a highly organized sexual gathering for very specifically kinky people.” Ray feels a bit of spittle lodge in his throat and tries his best not to sputter when he disagrees, “That’s actually a pretty tasteful description of an orgy.”

Can't Touch My Brother by alpheratz, Gerard/Mikey, 11k, Explicit. "Mikey turned twelve five days ago and he hasn’t been able to feel anything in exactly a year. " Haven-inspired AU of sorts where Mikey feels nothing but Gerard's touch.

Unholyverse by Bexless, Frank/Gerard, Ray/Mikey, 187k, Mature, Explicit. Religion! Horror! Exorcisms! Piercings! And Gerard is a priest.

colder as the years go, warm yourself again by annemari, Gerard/Mikey, 29k, Explicit. Mikey's fucking lucky to know so many great dudes he can hook up with. Especially Travie, who's fucking great and willing to tie Mikey up and hurt him if Mikey asks. It doesn't matter that he's avoiding Gerard and Gerard has no clue what he's getting up to. Mikey's not actively hiding it. It's just, it's kind of hard to talk to your brother about your sex life. Especially when you're in love with him.

front wheel, fuel-injected, and stepping out over the line by Trojie, uglowian, Ray/Gerard, 5k, Teen And Up Audiences. In which Gerard and Ray fail to get their shit together, with a full supporting cast (of exasperated Frank Iero and longsuffering Andy Hurley.)

On the Midtown Direct by mistresscurvy, Frank/Gerard, 24k, Explicit. Gerard Way has a system: a system for managing his life as a city architect, a system for being a single man living in a house in Jersey he still thinks of as his grandmother's and not his own, a system for finding one of the four solo seats in each car on the train into Manhattan every morning. He likes his system. It works. His system derails when Frank Iero sits across from him on the 7:59 Midtown Direct one sunny morning in May. A love story, one train ride at a time.

Sing the Revolution by turps, Frank/Mikey, Frank/Gerard/Mikey, 19k, Mature. A high school AU about brothers, best friends, boyfriends, and a lot of cross-dressing.

into the rushing road below by nilyn (escherzo), Gerard/Mikey, 3k, Teen And Up Audiences. "Come with me. Just for a little while," Gerard repeats, and this time, Mikey says yes.

A Light to Burn All the Empires by Arsenic, Frank/Mikey, Frank/Mikey/Pete, 32k, Explicit. Mikey and Frank are outed. There are, as one might imagine, repercussions.

With Words I Thought I'd Never Speak by brynnmck, Frank/Gerard, Lindsey/Gerard, 11k, Explicit. It's like being with Lindsey has switched on some sort of current inside him, and when he gets up onstage it comes crackling out, lighting him up, sparking off the sweaty upturned glowing faces of all the kids out in the audience, and he couldn't shut it off if he tried. And Frankie is, well, Frankie, only turned up to eleven, somehow, flailing all over the place like a downed power line, leaving a trail of blissed-out destruction in his wake. And his face in Gerard's crotch.

Tie Your Monster Down by stereomer, Frank/Gerard, 26k, Explicit. A spy AU

Bone the Doldrums by inlovewithnight, Mikey/Pete, 4k, Explicit. Written for no_tags 2012. Pairing/Prompt: 9. Pete/Mikey - Pete is a porn star. He falls in love with his new co-star. Luckily, his costar falls back.

Don't Know Where We Belong by nilyn (escherzo), Gerard/Mikey, 9k, Explicit. But then, there’s always been something a little wrong with the two of them.

Neon When You Come and Go by fleurdeliser, tuesdaysgone, Frank/Jamia, Frank/Jamia/Gerard, 21k, Explicit. All Gerard wanted was someone other than his mom doing his hair.

Your Heart The Only Place That I Call Home by dear_monday, Frank/Gerard, 30k, Explicit. When Frank and his crew of morally ambiguous ethernauts (pirates, as Imperial law would have it, but that's such an ugly word) fetch up on the doorstep of the fabled Sanctuary, they aren't expecting to find much - least of all a long-lost brother, a garden in a box and the key to an ancient riddle.

Gerard Way, For Skeleton Crew Fashions by desert_neon (sproutgirl), Frank/Gerard, 6k, General Audiences. Fashion designer Gerard gets his big break when he's hired to create a new collection for Frank Iero's Skeleton Crew Fashions, just in time for fashion week.

#patrick/mikey/pete #gerard/mikey #frank/gerard/mikey #frank/mikey #ray/mikey #frank/gerard #ray/gerard #frank/mikey/pete #lindsey/gerard #mikey/pete #frank/jamia #frank/jamia/gerard #pining #fic rec list

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wild-aloof-rebel · 5 years

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Kim Basinger may not know it, but she’s partially responsible for Schitt’s Creek. Christopher Guest mainstay Eugene Levy and his son, Dan Levy, had already hatched an idea about a sitcom centering on a once-wealthy husband and wife—Johnny and Moira Rose, played by Eugene and Catherine O’Hara—who lose their fortune and are forced to hilariously cope with their lower-class lifestyle when they learned a precious bit of trivia about Basinger.

“We were in the early stages of figuring out what the backstory was,” explained Dan, who also costars on the series as Johnny and Moira’s son, David. “We started to research different ways that people had lost tremendous amounts of money or gone bankrupt. In the process, I stumbled upon an article about Kim Basinger having bought this town in Georgia.” Indeed, in 1989, the actress reportedly paid $20 million for much of the town of Braselton in her native state of Georgia, with hopes of developing a tourist attraction and production center there. Three years later, the only businesses open in town were a furniture store and a dentist’s office. When a reporter caught up with the local postmaster a few years later for a story on the town’s transformation—in a scene you could see playing out on Schitt’s Creek—the no-nonsense postmaster declared the town “deader than it was” when Basinger bought it. Five years after her purchase, Basinger reportedly sold it for $1 million.

“We thought, what if that could be funny?” said Dan. So he and Eugene flip-flopped Basinger’s scenario: Schitt’s Creek kicks off with Johnny being swindled out of his fortune earned as the head of a Blockbuster-like video-rental franchise. “The family bought the town as a joke because it had this terrible name,” Dan explained, ”and it’s the only asset left after everything gets repossessed, because the government didn’t see any value in it…. Unfortunately, it took a probably very traumatizing experience in Kim Basinger’s life for us to get here, but yeah…It was the most unlikely of Google searches.”

Eugene’s performance as Johnny Rose may be the most brilliant of the actor’s nearly 50-year career—a masterclass in his deadpan gift. But underneath those eyebrows and matter-of-fact zingers, the Second City TV alum zeroes in on a humanity that makes this fallen magnate strangely sympathetic. Reality-era television is filled with clueless narcissists, but Johnny Rose is one of the few such characters with a heart.

How Johnny Came to Life

Johnny is the show’s even-keeled straight man—a type of character Eugene Levy, who’s typically cast as a scene-stealing supporting actor, isn’t used to playing. And there’s a reason for that. “To be a credible businessman, a guy who ran the second largest video chain in North America, there had to be some credibility in terms of who he was,” explained Eugene. “I think that was the cornerstone of building the character.” So even when Johnny’s washed-up soap-star wife is filming a sequel to The Crows in Bosnia that she hopes will revive her acting career and her kids are gleefully raiding her wig wall in the family’s motel room, it’s Johnny who tries to keep the absurd situation under control. “You better remember which nails you pulled those wigs from,” Johnny solemnly scolds David (Dan) and Alexis (Annie Murphy). “Your mother keeps a spreadsheet.”

Explained Eugene: “Everything had to be relatively straight and not too comical with Johnny, as the guy who’s trying to hold everything together and give everybody optimism that they’ll make it out of [Schitt’s Creek] one day—to not panic, not get too excitable. That was kind of an exciting thing for me. It’s not something I got to do too much over my career.”

Johnny’s wardrobe is as authentic as his business-executive demeanor; he’s always wearing impeccably tailored suits from Ermenegildo Zegna or Hugo Boss, left over from his glory days. And even though Johnny doesn’t get to indulge in the zanier story arcs that Moira does—headlining the local Asbestos Fest fund-raiser, for example—Dan Levy, who is also showrunner of Schitt’s Creek, has found ways to infuse a bit of fun into his father’s story lines. In season one, for example, Johnny is awakened by a motel-room drip over his head—which Dan knew would be a trying test for his father, who is sensitive about his hair.

“He got a kick out of that one,” conceded Eugene. Another season one story line had the not-incredibly athletic Eugene running through Schitt’s Creek in his businesswear—take after take. “A lot of running in dress shoes,” Eugene said drolly.

“That was when we were sort of pushing you the most physically,” said Dan.

“But it’s gotten nicer over the years,” said Eugene, pointing out that the story line high was Johnny getting to sing alongside his wife’s a cappella group, the Jazzagals, in the show’s fourth season. “I got a session with the Jazzagals, which was kind of great,” said the actor, who prides himself on his vocal talents.

Though a first-time director son calling the shots on set for his veteran-actor father could have made for some tense power dynamics, the Levys—who seem as warmhearted and hilarious as their onscreen counterparts—have persevered without incident. Said Dan, “If he was not as supportive of me, especially in the beginning, trusting me to run the show with very little to no experience, it probably would have made for a very different dynamic. The fact that I’ve been able to do what I’ve done is in large part because I’ve had the freedom and his good faith and support.”

True, there have been a few times when Eugene nixed an idea—for example, a scene in which a depressed Johnny screams off a cliff. (As Eugene said, “There’s nothing truly innately funny about wallowing in depression.”) But for the most part, Eugene has stepped back and let his son steer the show. “I have to trust [that] his instincts are the right instincts, and certainly they’ve been the right instincts for the good of the show,” he said.

As the show finishes filming its sixth and final season, Schitt’s Creek is being heralded as one of the best series on television—and one of those rare programs that gets better with age. Said Eugene, “It’s a show that reflected everything that we set out to do in the beginning—which is create a good character comedy where the characters are truthful and real and the situations are truthful and real, so the audience will invest emotionally in the characters.”

As the seasons have progressed, the Rose family has bonded in ways they never could have outside of Schitt’s Creek. But Dan was quick to note that, even though Johnny Rose has come a long way in embracing his new life, there are still a few bridges that the character will simply never cross.

“Johnny still doesn’t know how to operate technology,” laughed Dan. “He doesn’t know how to turn on a computer…”

“No, I can turn it on,” Eugene corrected.

“He can turn on a YouTube,” Dan teased.

“Turning it off,” finished Eugene, “is a different story.”

#schitt's creek #schitts creek #eugene levy #dan levy #press #vanity fair #dan talking about only being able to do what he does with his dad's support got me tearing up over here this morning

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revisionaryhistory · 4 years

Text

It’s All Art ~ 94

Well, I don’t know what happened. I skipped posting a chapter. This is supposed to be 94. I’ve already posted the two that come after. I’ll be fixing the order this weekend. There’s nothing in here that screws up plot progression. Just a thing. Sorry.

Oscar walked into the hotel room pointing his finger back and forth between the two of them. He started to speak, but laughed instead, "I had is whole speech planned giving you two shit, but I can't." He squeezed between them on the couch, putting his arms around both of them. "Are there more shower pictures? Can I request a bubble bath next time?"

Kelsey moved her hand to his upper thigh, "Don't ask for what you can't handle." He glanced at Charlotte, seeing her smirk. He looked back to Kelsey, "Oh, I can handle a lot."

Before she knew what hit her Kelsey was laid back on the couch, Oscar half on top of her, with his mouth nibbling on her neck. She yelped in surprise and instinctively latched onto his back. The shock left quickly and she mowed a hand to his hair, "Don't tease me, Oscar."

Oscar backed up enough to meet her eyes. "Tease you? Your hands were on her tits."

Kelsey screwed up her face, "Do you seriously think that's the first time my hands have been on her? Many sleep overs in University. Many drunk girl sleep overs." Kelsey raised her head to look at Charlotte, "I can tell you he likes that visual."

Oscar snickered, but didn't move. He gave her a quick kiss on the lips before sitting up," She'd be worried if I didn't." He did a quick adjustment to his jeans before kissing Charlotte. "We're going to keep her."

The three talked for another half hour before Kelsey stood up, "I'm off. Abby has tomorrow then Beth and then the three of us. What a day that will be."

Charlotte stood up and hugged her friend, "Thank you for the wonderful day."

Kelsey kissed her cheek, "I missed this. Can't wait until the three of us spend the day. Maybe we'll send your boyfriend away and have an all girl sleep over."

Oscar grinned, "I think I can get video set up by then."

* * * *

Charlotte regailed him with tales from their day and filled in with missing bits of history. Oscar was happy she'd had such a good time. He'd wanted someone with her to make sure she was physically ok, but he' d gotten someone who'd done much more for her emotionally. His fingers were crossed that the trend continued with Abby, Jane, and Beth.

After dinner they settled back on the couch to watch a movie. It was still early, but he watched her eyes starting to droop. He crawled out from behind her and knelt between her legs, "Tired?"

"I don't know why. All I've done is sit on the couch all day. This going to get old fast."

He repeated his words form this morning, "Healing takes a lot of energy."

She glared at him and stuck out her tongue.

Oscar jumped on that, taking it as an invitation. His hands moved to her ass as he kissed her. "I was thinking an orgasm might keep the nightmares away." He kissed over to her ear.

Charlotte laced her fingers through his hair. "It's certainly worth a try."

He was already working on pulling her pants off, "Your enthusiasm at the prospect of some amazing oral sex is lacking."

"You should be careful not to oversell."

"Ha fucking ha, baby."

*****

Unfortunately his brilliant plan was not successful. He lay with her until she feel asleep then went back to the family room for awhile. He thought he heard her rustling around and went to check on her. She was kicking her feet against the mattress and twisting her body. Definitely a nightmare. Oscar sat beside her, laid a hand on her shoulder, and talked to her. Nothing of any importance. Sweet words and calming phrases. She didn't calm, but it didn't get worse. He switched to singing, "And you wanted to dance, so I asked you to dance, but fear is in your soul. Some people call it a one night stand, but we can call it paradise. Don't say a prayer for me now. Save it till the morning after." Not surprisingly Duran Duran calmed her. Hell, he'd learn the lyrics to Backstreet Boys if it chased away the nightmares. He left her long enough to turn everything off in the other room. The sheets were cool against his skin as he slipped in beside her. They couldn't cuddle up, not even close, so he tucked his hand under her t-shirt, resting it on her stomach.

Oscar's singing only kept the nightmares away so long. For the second night he was awakened by her scream.

****

The next day's visit with Abby centered on baby talk. Charlotte kept her hand on Abby's stomach to feel movement. She talked to her future nephew and nixed name options at would get him bullied on the playground.

With Beth the topic was Oscar. Charlotte wanted details on how she came to help with the twitter account, including what would have been mortifying if not for their long standing friendship, Beth's movie star crush. Beth's fangirling started at least a year before Oscar and Charlotte had met.

"I remember when the first pictures of you two showed up. It was all I could do not to text you, calling you an awful bitch." They laughed. "But I got over it." Beth rolled her eyes dramatically. "If my internet boyfriend was going to cheat on me at least he looked happy and I approved of his choice."

Charlotte held Beth's hand and tried to look sincere, "I'm good with inappropriate thoughts. I'll provide a detail or two."

Beth snorted, "It's good you don't mind because lots of people have far more inappropriate thoughts than I ever did."

Charlotte adjusted her position to be more comfortable, "I'm glad we were never crazy stalker. I mean, outside of staking out airports and around the venue." She laughed with the memories.

Beth laughed too, "Yeah, we may have joked about it, but none of us really believed they'd see us and fall instantly in love." She glared at Charlotte, "But that's what happened for you, is'nt it?"

Charlotte shrugged, "Wasn't a fan situation though."

"No," Beth said, "having met him I can't imagine that would have worked." She shook her head, "I don't want to seem like I know your boyfriend better than you do. From videos and interviews he's never really seemed comfortable with the whole famous thing." She watched Charlotte nod her agreement. "I'm glad we're talking about this. I want to make sure you know I'm not nineteen and crushing like we used too. If there wasn't a bit of that it wouldn't be fun. There were four of us running the twitter. Shannon was a bit insane and we changed all the passwords. I'm not all starstruck being around, but if I'm honest it is kind of surreal at times."

Charlotte was glad they were talking about this too. There was no concern with trusting Beth, but it was complicated. Since Beth had been brave enough to broach the topic, Charlotte could say it all. "He's a little surreal to me at times. More whenever I met one of his costars. I must say it gets easier each time, but there's always at least a split second of 'Oh shit, it's Princess Leia!". After a moment it's just talking to a person." She took a sip of her water, giving herself a moment. "Here's my concern since finding out your connection to that account. In some ways you do know him more than me. You were absolutely fine when you met him. It's almost like we both had a crush on the same boy and he asked me out. Which it's not, but it's the best I can do. The crux of the thing is I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

"More like we both fancied the same boy in a pub and he bought you a drink." Beth put her hand on Charlotte's arm. "I appreciate your concern more than you can imagine. I'm not uncomfortable. I was worried that you were. Or Oscar. I have no problem letting the twitter go if it's the least bit weird for either of you. That's just silly fun. You're my friend."

"I see no need for that and neither would Oscar. He doesn't like anyone to change things because of who he is." She emphasized the word "who". I trust you without question and that's enough for him." She'd had enough of the serious talk. It was good to get it out, but it was time to move on. "Besides I count on that twitter to direct me to video or pictures I'd otherwise not known existed."

"I'll work on a top ten video or something."

"Perfect."

Kelsey came over after work. Soon after Abby and Matt showed up. Charlotte excused herself to the bedroom. Her head was pounding. She made them all promise to stay put. Oscar had texted he and Adam were bringing pizza for everyone. She was hoping a half hour of dark and quiet would be enough for her to join them.

It wasn't long before Oscar arrived with Adam carrying boxes of pizza. He checked on Charlotte, finding her asleep and returned to the others. The group sat around the family room laughing and eating. No one would ever know by watching the group interact that it was made up of old college friends, siblings, and a couple of celebrities.

Matt handed out another beer for everyone. They'd been laughing and teasing each other, so Matt was simply continuing. He nodded toward the closed bedroom door, "Looks like no sex for you tonight."

Everyone laughed, including Oscar who knew her sleeping wouldn't last. He tried to keep it light and winked at Kelsey, "If Charlotte's not up for it I've got Kelsey as a spare."

Adam almost spat out his beer. Kelsey let out a loud laugh before clamping her hand over her mouth.

"What do you mean if?" Matt had stopped mid drink, the lip of the bottle almost to his lips. "She's got broken bones and cuts. Can't you keep it in your pants for a few days?"

Oscar wasn't sure if Matt was teasing or reprimanding him. The look on Matt's face said reprimanding, which didn't sit well. At all. Oscar leaned forward, setting his beer on the table. Matt's comment was plucking a string that was wound to tight. Oscar felt it break. "You need to back off, Matt. You may have years of time over me, but you don't get to question my taking care of her."

"Is that what you call it?” The men's eyes were locked. Every one else was silent. Both men were looking out for Charlotte in their own way. Abby put her hand on Matt's arm, trying to get him to back down. He pulled his arm away from her.

Oscar's eyes shifted momentarily to the movement. Part of him said to shut up, but a bigger part didn't think he should. If Matt was man enough to accuse him, he was man enough to hear the truth. And be put in his place. "When Adam and I saw the video of the attack we could see her scream. Thankfully there was no audio. I didn't want to hear that, but guess what? I hear it now Every. Single. Night. She wakes up terrified from a nightmare she cant remember, probably about an attack she can't remember. And when she asks me to make love to her I know it's about those feel good hormones after to replace terrified with feeling safe and loved. Would you have me tell her no and point out her broken bones and cuts?" Oscar would wait all night for the answer.

It didn't take long for Matt to shake his head.

"You're her brother and I respect you're protective of her. Not more than me. And you don't get to judge me when you have no fucking idea." Oscar quickly wiped away an angry tear. "No fucking idea." He hated he feeling scared and hated that he couldn't make it stop.

Matt put a hand on Oscar's shoulder. "You're right. I'm sorry."

Oscar nodded.

Kelsey wasn't going to let the awkward moment continue. She giggled, waiting for eyes to shift to her. "Anyone think broken ribs are going to stop Charlotte having sex with him?"

Abby and Beth said, "Nope." Adam was shaking his head. Matt closed his eyes and shook his head.

Oscar just smiled.

#oscar isaac #itsallart #fanfic

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ramblingthoughtsofayoungadult · 5 years

Text

A Leg Up-Matty Healy Imagine

Requested: Yes

Warnings: None

“This is a good gig for you, Y/N. It will get you more exposure,” Anthony, my agent, assured me as we walked into the filming studio in central London.

Glossy black and white photographs of British, Welsh, Scottish, and Irish movie giants lined the walls of the entrance. Everyone inside was tall, slim, and stylish, as was typical of the entertainment scene. However, music people were involved in the mix so they were either stylishly disheveled or wearing every expensive item they owned. After twenty years in the entertainment world, I knew that I did not get along with either type of musician: the first were usually Kurt Cobain wannabes and the second were only interested in flashing their money on social media and starting pointless drama. Unlike my peers, I took my job as an actress seriously and knew that I had to align myself with the right people and the right projects to be seen a certain way. So, after my teen show ended, my costars and I were in a precarious stage that would determine the rest of our careers. Some of my costars would fall into the party scene and no doubt wind up in rehab while others would take a few jobs here and there only to retire to a normal life. I refused to fall into either camp and knew that if I wanted to have a long career as an actress, I had to keep working and take the best jobs. Anthony knew that and lined up several auditions for big-budget films that would premiere after my show’s finale. I landed one of them, a dive into post-apolalyptic society, but I knew that I had to keep my name in people’s minds. When I tasked Anthony with getting me a good, press-inducing gig, he called me two days later, instructing me to get on a plane to London to shoot a music video.

At first, I did not want to go and end up being another video girl, but I let Anthony persuade me and he continued persuading me when we met for brunch before leaving to the filming location.

“But are you sure this is the right kind of exposure?” I asked as two tall, thin men in black and white uniforms opened the glossy glass doors that led to the smaller studios.

“Of course!” Anthony glanced up from his BlackBerry. “Have I ever steered you wrong?”

I crossed my arms. “Must I remind you about the Care Bear incident?”

Anthony rolled his moss green eyes. “That was a decade ago? Will you ever let me live that down?”

“Not until it is completely scrubbed from the Internet,” I teased.

Anthony grumbled. “Well, this will definitely make up for it. This band is very big, not only in the UK but all over the world. Everyone with a pulse will see this music video and wonder who that girl is, dancing to the 1975? And is that her in that trailer for that blockbuster? I have to see if she can really act.”

“Fine, fine, I see your point.”

Anthony paused at one of the doors and glanced at his silver Rolex. “We’re here and right on time.”

He opened the door, revealing what could only be the music video set. There were industrial lights illuminating a large stage, complete with proper band equipment. The stage stood high above the crowd that was made up of two hundred extras. Assistants in all-black rushed around the studio, huffing into walkie-talkies, and swatting extras away from the craft service table.

Anthony had sent me a brief email describing the concept of the video: the band was going to be playing at a gig and Matty’s love interest, me, was going to show up as a surprise. The song was “The Sound” and, from what I could gather, it was about a former relationship but there was still a connection between the couple.

A blonde woman in a black pinstripe suit walked up to us. “You must be Mr. Vincent and Miss Y/L/N,” she said in a curt Welsh accent.

“Yes, that’s us,” Anthony said.

“My name is Bridget, Bridget Waters, the casting director for this video.” Bridget looked me over with her cool gray eyes. “You look better in person. Now, you must go to hair and makeup.”

“Thank you.”

Bridget rushed me over to the hair and makeup section, where I was immediately surrounded by stunning, coiffed professionals. When they were done, there was no evidence that I was jetlagged. My y/h/t y/h/c y/h/l hair was blown out in shiny strands and soft to the touch. Once my makeup and hair were done, a petite brunette girl in the new Jason Wu dress put me in a pair of black patent leather pants, a tissue-thin blue blouse, and black Balenciaga knife boots. I was already tall but the boots made me tower over almost everyone.

As if on cue, I heard my mother’s voice say, “Remember, tall girls like you are swans, make everyone else feel like ducklings for even looking at you the wrong way.”

I took a deep breath and straightened up my posture. As the stylist made some alterations, Anthony was barking orders on his phone in Portuguese. At the end of his conversation, his face was redder than usual.

“Thank you for being professional,” he said, “and you look good.”

“You’re welcome and thanks?”

A second later, a quiet roar took over the studio and that could only mean that the band had arrived.

“OI!” The director called, silencing the excited extras.

“There’s no need for that, love,” Matty teased.

It was the first time I ever heard his speaking voice and it sounded like velvet. I strolled away from Anthony and the stylist once she was done with the alterations, and saw Matty with the rest of the band. He was wearing an expensive-looking black button-down with black leather pants, ankle boots and a leather jacket. His bandmates were dressed similarly. I had seen pictures of them on social media and heard a few of their songs before, but I was not their biggest fan. However, I could respect their music and acknowledge that they were all better looking in person.

Suddenly, Matty looked at me and quirked an eyebrow in my direction. He strolled over to me and extended his hand. “Hello, ‘m Matty.”

I accepted his handshake, silently thanking myself that I decided to get a manicure the day before. “Y/N.”

“I know you from somewhere.”

“Oh, really? I didn’t think that someone like you would watch anything that I was in.”

“Roxanne!” the tall, brunette member said as he and the rest of the band approached us.

I felt my face warm up at the mention of my old character. “That’s me.”

Matty turned to him. “How’d you know that, Adam?”

“Well, she was only the best part of Bright Lights, the finest American television show I ever watched,” Adam said.

“Thank you, really, I didn’t think that anyone over sixteen watched that.” My stomach dropped as I realized I had insulted the member. “Which is fine, sorry, I just----”

“It’s fine, as long as you tell me exactly how the series ends. Do Roxanne and Edward end up together, or does she go with Nick? I’m personally more of a Nick man m’self.”

Matty wrapped his arm around Adam’s shoulders. “Right, Adam, we get it, you are a big fan. Don’t weird her out.”

“No, it’s fine, really, but I cannot give away any spoilers----ruins all the fun.”

Adam fake pouted. “Fine, I guess I can live with an autograph and a picture.”

“You have a deal.”

“Can I get those both as well?” Matty asked.

“Sure.”

“Oi, I want a picture with the movie star!” the blonde man announced as he and another tall brunette man ran over to us.

I laughed. “Fine, we can take a group picture.” I waved Anthony over and all the members handed him their phones.

We took so many pictures that I was positive that I had blinked in one of them. At the end of the impromptu photoshoot, the director insisted that we get started with shooting.

“So, I s’pose you’re my love interest then?” Matty asked.

“Yes, I suppose so.”

“Could you do me a favor? Try not to fall in love with me, it would make today much more complicated and I know it might be difficult, but you have to resist.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle as hair and makeup surrounded the band. “I’ll do my best, I am an actress after all.”

The music video shoot was a lot more enjoyable than I thought it would be. The director yelled instructions through the megaphone and the song blasted through the speakers. All the boys behaved energetically on stage, interacting with the extras, and pretend playing their instruments. It was almost more fun watching them perform than when it was time for me to enter. The director had me start halfway through the crowd and signalled me to push my way through the crowd until I got to the front. Matty would pause in the middle of the song as the music kept playing when he saw me, a surprised look on his face. I half-smiled in return but kept moving towards the stage. Once I got to the front, Matty would continue singing and dancing around on stage. In a few different takes, he lowered himself down to my level and winked at me. In other takes, he would blow kisses and I couldn’t help but laugh.

When my heart skipped a beat, I silently chastised myself. He was obviously acting, wasn’t he? He’d done videos before with models where he had to be romantic with them.

Then, the time came for the extras to leave so that Matty and I could film a solo scene. I took a couple of pictures with extras as they were leaving.

“Oh my gosh, Roxanne and Bridget better make up or I will have a whole cow!” one girl exclaimed after I signed her phone case.

“Oh come off it, Rachel, Bridget is the biggest slag in the history of slags and Roxanne can do better friends wise,” another girl said.

I laughed. “Thanks, but you will both have to wait and see.”

They ignored assistants ushering them away as they waved while walking in the direction of the exit.

“My, my, someone’s popular,” Matty said behind me.

I turned to him. “Oh please, I did not have all the extras screaming when I walked into the room.”

Matty shrugged. “Don’t worry, you’ll experience it one day.”

I playfully pushed him and jumped away when he tried to push me back. As we were laughing the director approached us.

“Alright you two, let’s get this over with and maybe we can all leave here at a decent hour. Now, I want Y/N to start walking out of the studio, but you’re gonna stop her, Matty, and pull her towards you. This is just after the concert ends and I want to see the emotion. Remember, you two were a mismatched couple with chemistry. “

I nodded. “Got it.”

The director marched back to the camera and signalled me to start. I turned on my heel and strolled to the door at a relaxed pace. Just when I opened the door, Matty grabbed my free hand and pulled me towards him. His dark brown eyes were intense as he held me under his gaze. I did my best to match his intensity and tried not to be surprised when he started leaning closer to me. Just when I felt his breath on my mouth, the director shouted for us to stop.

“Wonderful! I really felt the energy between you two! Now, I need the two of you to dance. This is a flashback scene, back to when things between the two of you were better.”

“Then we need some music,” Matty said.

“MUSIC!” the director yelled.

“The Sound” blasted through the speakers and Matty grabbed my hand, spinning me around, making me laugh in surprise. At one point, he picked me up and spun me around in his arms, forcing me to wrap my arms around his neck for stability. We filmed that scene about ten times with different dance moves each time. At the end of the takes, my heart seemed to beat louder and harder after the last. Why did musicians have to be so charming and funny? Be professional, Y/L/N , I thought to myself.

Finally, the director was satisfied with our dancing and called for the cut when Matty pulled me extremely close. I could smell his expensive cologne wafting from him. It was hypnotic.

I blinked and pulled away. “Um, good work today.”

“Yeah, you too. I see what Adam was goin’ on about,” Matty muttered.

“C’mon, Y/N, you have to get back to LA to finish some scenes!” Anthony barked from the stylist area.

“Coming!” I called.

“You’re leaving so soon?” Matty asked.

“Yeah, I have to finish a movie that’s coming out next year.” “Oh, because, I was hoping that you wouldn’t mind me showing you around the city and maybe getting dinner afterwards.”

“Are you asking me on a date?”

“If you want to call it that.”

“I thought you weren’t going to fall in love with me today?” “Who said anything about falling in love? I just like you a lot and would like to show you the better parts of London.”

“Give me your phone?”

Matty handed it over to me and I typed in my number.

“I don’t leave until the day after tomorrow so you should call me so we can make better arrangements.”

“Alright.”

I walked away from him with the biggest grin on my face. Now, I finally understood why so many actresses and models in music videos wound up dating the lead musician: they’re kind of irresistible.

#matty healy imagine #requested #the 1975 imagine

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