#redpills

Send a number, get a hug! (Accepting, slow to answer but I swear I'm getting there)

6. a goodnight hug

7. a hug where one muse picks the other up

@red-pills

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Why you had decided to spend the evening at the Studio was completely beyond Wilford. Was it your own curiosity? Was it because you wanted to make sure your favourite actor wasn't going to be betrayed a second time by his brother? Not that it mattered, really. Even if Wilford had refused, he had a hunch you wouldn't listen. Your motives, however cryptic, would stay with you.

The final shows of the day were being filmed, and everything seemed... normal. Wilford stuck to work behind the character. The shows ran like clockwork - how you assumed they normally would in a normal studio. No one was hurt, no weapons appeared, nothing.

On the flip-side, every time Wilford threw a glance to make sure you weren't snooping around, he would see you writing something in a notebook. It was better not to focus on the maybes and the what-ifs regarding its content. He had been told time and time again to respect the rule of "none of your business", and it would probably be a good idea to do so now. Eventually, he stopped checking. You seemed preoccupied. Hardly a danger to a sudden thief.

By the time he remembered you were there, it was a commercial break. He had actually stepped away to start searching for his water flask (seriously, it was neon green. How does he misplace it???) when he spotted you over to the side. At some point, you must have leaned back to evaluate what you had written. It was a fatal choice, as you were completely out for the count. You were slumped back against the chair with your head toppled back and mouth gaping open.

It was, without a shadow of a doubt, the most unflattering nap pose Wilford had ever seen.

He tried to decide what to do, and ultimately decided you staying where you were was a terrible idea. Instead, you were very gently lifted into his strong arms like a baby going for their midday snooze. You stirred briefly, but settled again quickly. It allowed him to quickly bring you into his dressing room and let you claim the couch and the polka dot throw as a makeshift blanket.

After that, he returned to retrieve your notebook. For a moment, he considered reading it. But it was none of his business after all, and the book was closed to be left beside you.

Grupos de "masculinidade" como Redpill, Incel e MGTOW, que pregam superioridade e ódio às mulheres na internet??