night shoot day

2

Hey, we beat up some dancers.

I Am Human - Part V

Pairing: Jared x reader
Summary: He’s one of the two main actors. He’s 28, sexy, charming and funny.
She’s the new girl on set. The new assistent from a foreign country. And she is only 20 years old. She is also the one who stole his heart in milliseconds, just by being herself.  Jared Padalecki and (Y/N) (Y/L/N) are what you like to call starcrossed lovers, two fitting pieces of a puzzle. But we all know love is not easy. So what happens if their age difference becomes a problem? Can (Y/N) keep working for Jared when feelings get involved? And what secret is she hiding from him?
Warning: None

I Am Human Masterlist

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“You ask me, you pump somthin’ full of these chemicals, electricity and whatnot. That’s not a man. That’s a monster.”

“Maybe so. Or maybe they’re not as different as you’d think.”

Raise your hand if you’re convinced Napoleon fell for Illya the moment he saw him trying to stop Gaby’s car on foot in Berlin. 

charlie-n-foxtrot  asked:

I am just coming in to say you are officially one of my favorite creators! After stalking Mary Kate Wiles after LBD I quickly found your work and I actually love it ALL! I may have to call kitr my personal favorite though. I just would like to ask, whats your creative process from having the ideas to actually executing them, it just seems so insane that someone can have these great ideas and make them so unbelievably real! This is getting long so I'm going to stop, much love from New Zealand xxx

You are too sweet and I’m so glad you’re enjoying Kissing in the Rain, I love it too! It’ll probably be hard for me to find another project with so many things I love concentrated in 2-3 minutes after this. But I will keep trying, and I hope you guys will like whatever comes next, on both my personal channel and at Shipwrecked

Regarding my creative process from having the ideas to actually executing them into a finished product, this is a longer answer. I will pepper this post with pictures to keep it interesting. Spoiler alert, it ends with a video.

The beginning often varies and I’m not always the one who has the idea, but when I do, it usually starts with a random text message at a random hour, like this:

This text idea is one of the lucky few that made it out alive. My text histories are a veritable graveyard of ideas that never came to be, which is totally fine. Mostly it’s just helpful to have your go-to friends who you trust to tell you when your crazy idea is half-baked and when it could actually be a thing. If I’m excited about a new project, I start by first reaching out to the people who will be most invested in making it happen. For me, that’s my cast, my director of photography, and my production designer. They’re usually all on board before the scripts are even written.

Then comes the actual writing. I have a notebook where I sketch out my story ideas and most come to nothing, but sometimes they do come to something. It’s always gratifying to go back to the first page where a project was mentioned and see ‘Oh, hey, this idea turned into a thing that turned into another thing that turned into this video.’

Once the script is written, the next thing I do is create a Pinterest board and share it with my production designer. I generally prefer to have one board per location on a project, since we have to design by location. I target the dominant elements of our set design - book walls, skeleton keys, shadow puppets, floral imagery, etc. Even if something isn’t a perfect match but evokes the feeling/atmosphere of what I want, I’ll repin it. The purpose of our Pinterest boards is for us to be able to step back and get a general impression of all the elements of our set design coming together.

Next I discuss the project’s cinematography style with my director of photography. Our meetings tend to vary by scope of project, but we almost always start by watching a bunch of YouTube clips of movies I’d like to copy in terms of lighting/camera moves. After that, we’ll compose a shot list from the shooting script, and occasionally we’ll have a loose storyboard.

At this point, we’re usually in the thick of pre-production and a bunch of things start happening at once.

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Happy Christmas (Joshifer Drabble/One shot)...

Remember I said I wanted to write something Joshifer themed (I mean in an ideal world I’d have managed Everlark too) for Christmas, but I didn’t think I’d managed (I shouldn’t have managed it) cause I was supposed to be flat out working on my big honors project write up over Christmas for uni? Yeah, well guess who procrastinated to the max and … well this happened. I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas/New Year/holiday time! Have a Joshifer Christmas drabble from me! 

(I’ve only read through this once, all mistakes are nine mine.)

_________________________________________

Happy Christmas…

I roll over, groaning, eyes sealed tightly shut and falling into Josh. My arm throws over him, and my cheek nestles above his shoulder, my smiling lips pressing against his neck with an exhausted sigh. He doesn’t move for a minute, but I know he is awake before he pulls me closer and plants his lips into my hair.

I also know his eyes are still shut too.

And that he can hear the same excited voices and whisperings I can from the surrounding bedrooms.

“Do you think they’ll go back to sleep?”

I snort at the ludicrousness of his question and I feel him deflate under me. 

“Thought not.” 

They didn’t settle until well after 10pm, far too excited with the thoughts of Santa making his way in with presents for them to open, the magic filling our home through their smiles. And hyperactive giggling, bouncing and dancing energy for nearly three hours passed their usual bedtime.

Then, finally, we’d managed to get them to lay out a plate of cookies and a beer for Santa (because he gets fed up with everyone leaving him milk) and a carrot for the reindeer. We’d read them stories, without making them one bit sleepy. We’d tucked them in and kissed them goodnight, without their eyes showing any signs of heaviness. And then we’d slipped back downstairs, a beer each and a plate of cookies (and a carrot) between us, until we could no longer hear restless turning in beds and feet running between bedrooms.

1am.

And then it had taken another hour for us to haul the bags of wrapped presents silently down to the living room and to arrange them into perfect, Christmas picture perfect bundles, distinct for each one of our children.

It was after 2am before we’d fallen into bed, having been up early that morning too, we rolled under the covers and crashed into blackness.

I squint an eye open, Josh’s still shut. 6:15am. Four hours sleep. I’ve had more while working night shoots followed by days. I quickly shut my eye again and bury myself closer into Josh.

“It’s after six. Could be wors-” the rest of my sentence is swallowed by my yawning.

“Mm-hmm.”

We sigh, and I feel like I’m floating, fading away again, the pull of sleep taking me under, only Josh’s breath and faint “shh”s and whispers keeping me a little above the surface. Josh sighs again.

And then silence.

And then a giggle, closer now, with some more shushing and scampering of feet.

I’m about to tell Josh that we should just get up now, that they’re awake and they won’t last long.

And then our bedroom door flies open.

“Mom! Dad! Santa’s been! He’s been!”

I smile sleepily and sit up quickly, before I can think about staying in bed. My eyes peel open, beside me Josh is rubbing his face. “He has? Are you sure?”

Our eldest, Olly, nods quickly. “Can we go downstairs?!”

“Are your brother and sister up too?” Josh mumbles through a yawn, sitting up.

The brother and sister in question, Jack and Daisy, come rushing in. “Yes, yes yes!!”

We slip our legs out either side of the duvet and the three kids start bouncing again, joyous grins on their faces.

“Okay, let us just grab our stuff on.” I’m trying to stall them as I slip into my dressing gown and Josh grabs my phone and his camera. I fumble with my tie and the boys grow impatient, moving to sit at the very top step. And then slipping on to the second top. Daisy watches me, twirling a strand of her honeyed hair over her nose. I used to do that when I was little, and the action always catches me; it was never something I taught her, or told her about, and yet she stands, almost a replica of a four year old me with less wild curls, doing the same thing. Olly and Jack, don’t seem to solely favour just Josh or me in their looks, at least not as much as Daisy. Olly definitely has my eyes, and Josh’s hair, while Jack is golden in eye and light brown in hair. But neither looks like just one of us.

“Come on mom!” So much for Daisy waiting on us a little more patiently.

I look up and Josh nods, cameras in his hands. “Good to go?!” I grin to my children who nod, the boys darting down the stairs. 

“Wait for your sister!” Josh shouts, following them, while I reach for our daughters hand.

“Come on Daisy-Bell, let’s see what Santa brought you.”

When we reach the bottom of the stairs, Josh has switched into living room security, while the boys rock on their toes desperate to see what Father Christmas has left.

Daisy lets go of my hand and flees to her older brothers, the three of them anxious to get passed their father. He doesn’t hang about in teasing them - or prolonging their suffering further - just handing me my cellphone and then pushing open the living room door.

Three little bodies dash forwards, then slow, mouths dropping at the Christmas scene before them and gasps escaping their lips before stretching into wide, face splitting grins.

“Mom look!” “He’s been!!!!” “Thank you Santa!”

“This one says Jack,” Olly states, pointing at one pile of presents, Jack crawling over on hands and knees to his section, swapping with Olly.

Paper is ripped up, presents and long sought after toys are held up to us, joy and excitement, wonder and complete belief lighting up their faces. Their laughter and pure, child spirits fill me with happiness so sincere that I have to purse my lips together in my beaming smile to stop myself from crying while I nod at their presents purchased by myself and Josh weeks ago, and take sneaky pictures of them in action on my phone.

Josh dives right in, filling things with batteries and building Daisy’s dollhouse, before challenging them all to a game of something that ends up resembling indoor basketball. I’m begged to play, but I don’t think our house could take a fifth player in whatever game they started, so I happily make everyone breakfast (extra strong and multiple cups of coffee for me and Josh) with radio Christmas songs on loop.

So when Josh falls back on to the sofa, and the kids lazily spoon cereal and chew on toast on the floor, surround by toys and presents, with one hand always admiring something, I hold out a mug to him.

He looks up at me, smiles and takes it gratefully. “Thanks, Jen.”

I ease down beside him, tucking my feet up and letting my shoulder rest against his. We sip our coffee and watch the kids in perfect silence for easily ten minutes. 

“Your present is under the tree.” Josh speaks without looking at me.

“So’s yours… later?”

I turn to him now and he nods. “Definitely.”

I smile softly and press my lips to his, realising that I hadn’t done so already today.

“I remember thinking, when I was growing up after the magic had kind of worn off a little, that Christmas was the best when you are a kid.”

Josh takes a sip of his coffee, but still nods. “Mmm.”

“But now I know. It’s not the best when you’re a kid. It’s best when you’ve got your own children. And you get to have…. this.” I grin again, and watch as Jack, Olly and Daisy start to race their remote control cars together the length of the room, Daisy clutching a stuffed bear under one arm too, all three of their faces so bright and overjoyed.

“I love how much they love it.”

“Joshy, can we have another one? Can that be my present next year?”

He laughs, but I don’t think he’s dismissing it. I would have a million children if watching them this happy made me feel this delighted and ecstatic from now until forever.

“I love you, Jen… Merry Christmas.”

I drop my head to his shoulder, yawning again. “I love you too, Josh.”


~

Merry Christmas Everyone!!