Me

it  wasn’t  the  first  time  mason  had  ended  up  in  her  treatment  room  —  and  knowing  him,  it  wouldn’t  be  the  last.  harper  had  come  to  expect  the  combination  of  ego  and  deflection  that  followed  him  through  the  door,  all  six-foot-something  of  him  acting  like  every  injury  was  just  part  of  the  game.  "oh,  right,"  she  said  flatly,  one  brow  arching  as  she  examined  the  damage.  "so  this  doesn’t  hurt?"  she  said  applying  more  pressure.  the  wince  that  flickered  across  his  features  told  her  everything.  "yeah,  that’s  what  i  thought."  she  stepped  back,  exhaling  through  her  nose  as  she  moved  toward  the  cabinet,  gloves  snapping  off  her  hands  with  a  quiet  finality.  "mason,  this  isn’t  just  a  bruise  you  can  shake  off  on  the  court."  her  tone  wasn’t  cruel,  but  it  was  cutting.  "your  body  is  your  entire  job,  and  if  you  want  to  keep  doing  it  for  more  than  five  years,  maybe  start  listening  to  the  woman  who’s  literally  paid  to  keep  you  standing."  she  paused,  glanced  over  her  shoulder.  “this  might  even  be  out  of  my  hands,  mason.  and  if i’m  saying  that?  it’s  time  to  take  it  seriously.”  her  voice  dropped  slightly,  something  quieter  there.  “i  wish  it  was  just  me  being  dramatic.”

closed starter for @velvetysage ♡ ( loosely ) based on this !

"don't you think you're being a tad dramatic?" for all he knew, he could have a broken nose. instead of owning up to his mistake, he deflected, trying to bring some light to the situation. it was classic mason — never wanting anyone to be mad at him, despite creating a situation where someone should be. "it's not as bad as it looks. it barely even hurts."

. · ✦   ·   ˖ ࣪ .  𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐓𝐘𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄.

independent   |   est.   2025   |   activity   varies muses   pinned   by   𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐚   .   28   .   CET   .   mature   themes   can   occur   on   this   blog   !   .   21+

 ♤   muses.   ♤   starters.   ♤   muse   inspo.   ♤   wanted plots.   ♤   wanted   opposites.    ♤ pinterest.

DUA LIPA via Instagram (October 20, 2024)

céleste  took  him  in,  gaze  flicking  over  him  once  —  slow  and  measured.  he  looked  exactly  as  expected:  self-assured,  relaxed  in  that  infuriatingly  effortless  way,  standing  there  like  he  had  nothing  but  time.  but  beneath  all  that  charm,  she  caught  something  else  —  a  flicker  of  something  in  his  posture,  like  a  tension  he  was  pretending  wasn’t  there.  her  lips  twitched,  the  faintest  amusement  ghosting  across  them.  “an  interior  designer?  please.  you  don’t  strike  me  as  the  type  to  let  anyone  else  make  decisions  for  you.” she  let  her  gaze  drift,  taking  in  the  penthouse  with  a  passing  glance.  it  was  as  sleek  and  impressive  as  expected.  something  told  her  he  hadn’t  been  the  one  to  choose  the  finishes,  the  furniture,  the  perfectly  staged  decor.  money  made  things  easy.  taste  was  another  matter.  “besides,”  she  added,  letting  her  gaze  flick  back  to  him,  “if  i  were,  you’d  owe  me  a  lot  more  than  just  a  session.”  unhurried,  she  moved  further  inside,  the  soft  click  of  her  steps  swallowed  by  the  sheer  openness  of  the  space.  the  view  was  spectacular  —  the  city  unfurling  beneath  them  like  something  out  of  a  dream.  but  she  had  no  plans  of  giving  him  the  satisfaction  of  saying  so.  instead,  she  turned  back  to  him,  arching  a  brow  at  his  offer.  “evian,  smartwater,  voss  —  what,  do  you  collect  overpriced  hydration?”  her  tone  was  light.   "any  of  your  finest  water  will  do,"  she  mused,  finally  meeting  his  gaze  again.  "you  know,"  she  exhaled  lightly,  tilting  her  head  just  slightly,  "you  don’t  have  to  try  and  impress  me."  there  was  no  condescension  in  her  tone,  no  outright  challenge. she  could  feel  it  —  the  slight  acceleration  of  her  heartbeat,  the  way  her  body  registered  the  shift  before  her  mind  could  catch  up.  but  she  kept  her  expression  carefully  neutral,  refusing  to  let  it  show,  refusing  to  let  her  thoughts  spiral.  it  was  just  them.  no  noise,  no  distractions,  no  audience.  she  inhaled  slowly,  steadying  herself,  reminding  herself  exactly  who  she  was.  control  was  second  nature  to  her.  she  wouldn’t  let  this  —  whatever  this  was  —  change  that.

the subtle chime of the elevator sent a slow ripple of awareness through him, breathing turning into a sport instead of something that came naturally. he didn't move, his gaze fastened to the doors that soon opened, watching as celeste stepped inside like she belonged there. poised and bearing an air of confidence that wasn’t forced. she was even more stunning today than the other night, framed by the floor-to-ceiling windows behind her, the concrete landscape stretching out like he owned it. but right now, she was the one commanding attention. a self-assured smirk curved on his lips as alec crossed the threshold to meet her with deliberate, unhurried strides that said he wasn’t rushing for anyone. “funny, i don’t remember hiring an interior designer,” he joked, one head cocked to the side as he purposely let his gaze glide over her. “but judging by the way you’re standing there like you own the place, maybe i should’ve.” adrenaline pumped through his veins at the mere sight of celeste, hands clammy as he wondered where they would go from here. "you want something to drink? i've got it all. evian, smartwater, voss. kombucha, green juice, coffee. pick your poison."

LEO WOODALL - Bridget Jones: Mad About the Boy Trailer (x)

she  should  go.  she  knew  that.  her  workout  was  already  mapped  out  in  her  head—every  set,  every  rep—but  standing  there,  his  arms  lazily  draped  around  her,  the  gym  didn’t  feel  quite  as  important.  céleste  curled  her  fingers  loosely  around  the  smoothie,  her  focus  entirely  elsewhere.  the  way  he  lingered,  the  way  his  lips  brushed  against  her  cheek  like  he  wasn’t  quite  ready  to  let  go  either—it  did  something  to  her.  his  laugh  hummed  low  in  his  chest,  settling  over  her  like  something  warm,  something  steady.  and  for  a  moment,  she  forgot  all  about  the  godforsaken  smoothie  she  was  about  to  pretend  didn’t  taste  like  chalk.  his  hand  motioned  toward  the  door,  an  easy,  effortless  gesture  that  brought  another  smile  to  her  lips.  for  the  first  time  in  longer  than  she  could  remember,  the  gym  wasn’t  the  first  thing  occupying  her  mind  in  the  morning.—  she  had  spent  so  long  perfecting  the  art  of  distance,  of  keeping  people  at  arm’s  length,  of  never  letting  herself  sink  too  deep  into  something  that  could  slip  through  her  fingers.  yet,  here  she  was  as  he  opened  the  door  for  her  like  it  was  second  nature—like  looking  after  her  was  something  he  did  without  thought.  and  that  was  the  thing.  it  wasn’t  all  the  grand  gestures  that  bowled  her  over,  it  was  this.  the  small  things,  the  moments  between  moments,  the  effortless  way  he  made  her  feel  like  she  didn’t  have  to  hold  herself  so  tightly  all  the  time.  grabbing  her  car  keys,  she  moved  to  walk  towards  the  door,  standing  before  him,  she  tilted  her  head  slightly,  her  free  hand  reaching  up  to  toy  with  one  of  his  curls,  her  eyes  locking  onto  his  before  instinctively  flickering  to  his  lips.  "you  know,"  she  murmured,  her  fingers  curling  lightly  at  the  nape  of  his  neck,  holding  onto  him  for  just  a  second  longer.  "you're  not  making  it  easy  for  me  to  step  out  this  door."  then,  she  closed  the  space  between  them,  pressing  her  lips  against  his.  the  warmth  of  him  pulled  her  in,  that  familiar  sensation  of  pure  bliss  intoxicating  her  like  second  nature.  she  let  herself  melt  into  him  for  a  moment,  into  the  way  he  made  everything  else  fade  into  the  background.  when  she  finally  pulled  back,  she  let  her  eyes  stay  closed  for  another  second,  savoring  it.  then,  with  a  small  smirk,  she  whispered,  "think  the  leg  press  might  be  upset  if  i  cancel  our  date.  i'll  see  you  when  i  get  back,  yeah?"

the electrifying feeling of her lips against his cheek, was one that he hoped never dulled. he offered her the horrid excuse of a drink with his arms coming to lazily wrap around her. rather than go to the gym (he'd rather drop dead), he would suffer silently with her gone for the time being. "if it's nasty, just don't tell me." he laughs, returning the kiss to her cheek with rose tinted lips lingering before he pulls away to let her go. "let me walk you out." he grabs his hoodie off the back of the couch, tossing it over himself to protect him from the unforgiving winter air. he then made his way to hold the door open for her, his hand coming to motion her.

HANNAH DODD — SAG Awards 2025

Gideon Glick as Tobias Bell and Ivan du Pontavice as Gabin Roux ÉTOILE — The Offer (1.08)

Gideon Glick as Tobias Bell and Jonathan Groff as Kevin ÉTOILE — The Slip (1.07)

FRIENDS • S1E04 ↳ “The One With George Stephanopoulos”