#hollywood stunt man

[shelbgrey]

-Cliff Booth aesthetic

[theglitterdome]

On this day...

Stunt pilot Paul Mantz died while filming a scene for the 1965 film Flight Of The Phoenix.

The flying sequences were flown by racing, stunt, and movie pilot, as well as collector of warplanes, Paul Mantz, co-owner of Tallmantz Aviation, filling in for his partner Frank Tallman, who had injured his leg.

The morning of July 8, 1965, Mantz was flying the Tallmantz Phoenix P-1, the machine that was "made of the wreckage", performing touch-and-go landings for the cameras, when the fuselage buckled during a touchdown. The movie model broke apart and cartwheeled, killing Mantz and seriously injuring stuntman Bobby Rose.

The final credit on the film was, "It should be remembered... that Paul Mantz, a fine man and a brilliant flyer gave his life in the making of this film..."

[originalgravity]

[busterkeatonsociety]

#SundaySales Get a signed copy of Dana Stevens’ “Camera Man: Buster Keaton, the Dawn of Cinema, and the Invention of the Twentieth Century” at busterstuff.com/product/camera-man/385

[tonycries]

Hope They Catch Us - G.S.

Synopsis. When you’re on-screen, it’s always a rivalry to see who’s best - you just never thought that it would be the same struggle in bed.

Pairing. Actor! Gojo Satoru x Co-Star! Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, rivals-to-lovers, co-stars to lovers, unprotected, oral (fem receiving) slight exhíbitionism (stuff with cameras), marking, praise, Satoru is actually down BAD, cúmplay, tabloids, lowkey fluffy at the end, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.5k

A/N. YA GIRL IS BACKKKK ;D Also happy belated three months to this blog hehehe.

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Enemies of The Century or Publicity Stunt? Recent Cast Outings Sets Fans Speculating!

---

You hated him. Oh, how you hated him. All because of a red-hot rivalry that had sparked ever since the two of you took the industry by storm. And everyone from Hollywood’s bigshots to your adoring fans knew that no matter where Gojo Satoru goes, you were sure to never be within a ten-mile radius. 

Well, usually. 

“I…shit- I’m in love with you.” 

Because avoiding Gojo like a plague really isn’t saying much when said plague was currently sitting right next to you. Eyes boring into yours, signature smirk plastered on his face while he rattles off a disgustingly sweet confession - all on the set of your latest movie. 

Somehow, in a cruel twist of fate, your co-star. 

And to add insult to injury, this wasn’t just any movie - it was only set to be the biggest romance film of the summer. So not only did you hate to tolerate Gojo, you had to pretend to be in love with him. 

Perfect. Great. Wonderful. If only the check wasn’t as tempting as it was, you think he would’ve successfully driven you to an aneurysm already. Especially considering that the scene tomorrow was-

“CUT!” 

That snaps you out of your little reverie, bringing you back to the still very ongoing film shooting. You risk a glance at the disgruntled director, cheeks aching from the sappy fake smile you had to hold for this scene.

“Something wrong?” you bat your lashes deceivingly innocently. You knew exactly what was wrong. And one look at Gojo - dressed to the nines and huffing sulkily at being interrupted in the middle of his monologue - told you that he did as well.

“It just doesn’t feel real.” The director shuffles his script, voice dropping to a sigh at your confused gazes. “The spark, it doesn't feel real.”

“What?” you silently thank your years of acting for keeping your voice steady. You squirm in your seat the longer the silence stretches. This cozy little café they rented out too tight, Gojo’s fingers intertwined with yours too hot. Too soft. 

“C’mon. You are in the perfect romantic set-up.” the other man gestures wearily at the café, at the dim-lighting and the proximity of your seats. “So why do you two look like you want to just- strangle each other?”

“Ooo kinky~”

It’s the first time Gojo’s spoken up since the scene was ended early and honestly that was enough to have you fulfilling the director’s suspicions. 

“That.” you give him a pointed stare. “That is probably why.”

And that just draws out such an infuriatingly light chuckle from Gojo, as he sprawls all over his chair with the audacity of someone that owned this entire set. “Lighten up. You’ve told us, n’ in the next take I’ll fix it. Easy peasy.”

If only it was that “easy peasy”. The director was anything but satisfied, running a hand through his hair frustratedly. “It’s not just me, even the public is worried whether your ‘feud’ will get in the way of such intimate scenes. You-” he jabs a finger your way. “-better pretend like you want to kiss him senseless and you-” whirling now to Gojo. “-better act like you’ve wanted nothing more for years- Not to mention tomorrow’s sex scene-”

Ah, right. The sex scene. 

How could you forget? It might not be a walk in the park to giggle and make heart-eyes at Gojo, but to actually pretend to have sex with him? All on camera? Curse whoever wrote this damn script. You could’ve almost laughed at the universe’s absolutely awful sense of humor if it hadn’t been for your paycheck - and the next words that tumble out of Gojo’s pretty mouth. 

“We’ll ace it, you just watch.” 

You hurriedly snap your eyes to meet Gojo’s, sending him a look that says “behave”, in a way that very much makes him not want to. Twinkling with such dangerous mischief that makes your stomach flip as he hums, “Or- I’ll ace it.”

God, was it a battle to remain professional. The only thing stopping you from snapping back being the way he squeezes your hand mockingly reassuringly - to which you send him a death grip back, of course. 

“Oh? Care to elaborate, Mr. Gojo?” the director asks, eyes flitting between the two of you. And you can’t even laugh at the rest of the staff for almost toppling out of their seats in an attempt to hear his answer - because you are, too. Mind whirling as you lean closer, wondering just what nonsense would come out of Gojo’s mouth. 

“Well, you could say…” he trails off suspensefully, like the smug bastard he is. Looking right in your eyes as he flashes an unfairly pretty smile your way. “I’m irresistible like that.”

Exactly the type of nonsense that would come out of Gojo Satoru, of course. And one glance at the director told you he was thinking the same thing. He was going to be the death of you. You can’t help but breathe out shrilly, “You fucking-”

“My apologies, director, but our leads have a scheduled interview soon. Rest assured, we will be early on set for filming tomorrow.”

You were definitely giving Nanami a raise after this. 

Because if looks could kill then Gojo would be six feet under and you’d be dancing on his grace already - and you let him know. A little over twenty times, actually, as the both of you are hastily escorted away from the set for an “emergency interview”. 

It was a flimsy excuse, you both knew, but Nanami hadn’t exactly felt like cleaning up a crime scene today. Instead, settling for a swift escape, the director calling out after you two to “Look like you’re gonna rip the clothes off each other tomorrow.”

Rip the clothes off each other, huh?

With the way things were going, you couldn’t be surprised if you ripped him a new-

“C’mon, sweetheart~” Gojo gets out through giggles, that familiar cackle echoing in the narrow hallway leading to your trailer. “Y’know I was just having a little fun with that ol’ man.”

He saunters unhurriedly behind your brisk pace, easily blocking the way you swing the door shut in his face. Letting it shut with such infuriatingly smooth nonchalance. 

“Fun?” you scoff, jabbing an accusing finger right in the middle of his sculpted chest.“Do you even realize the mess you could’ve made?”

“Easy there, m’not insured for these pecs just yet.” Gojo clasps your hands together. Some strange little part of your skin burning at the touch in- anger? Something else? But you don’t think too hard about it, because he’s plowing on, “Besides, a little teasing never hurt anyone.”

Such a shame he was so pretty with the stupidest mouth.

“A little teasing? You practically declared to everyone in that room that we’re gonna fuck this up.” you move to pull him down by the collar instead, clearly unimpressed.

But oh you shouldn’t have done that - because he’s so close now. Too close. Hot breath fanning your face, looking so smug as he murmurs unrepentantly, “Do you?” Chuckling lightly at your little head tilt, “Do you think we’ll fuck it up?”

You clench your jaw, trying to keep it all together. “...No.”

“Exactly. We’re good then.” he winks. 

“No. We’re not fucking ‘good’.” you grit out. Wondering exactly how difficult it might be to bother the director into completely recasting the male lead for the movie. Looking up at that million dollar smile and- yeah, it would be very difficult. “You’re so insufferable. I don’t know why they cast you.” 

“My good looks? My charisma? The way I’m the-” he trails off with a sigh at your glare. “Well, you’re not exactly a ray of sunshine, sweetheart.”

“At least I can act and-.”

He whines dramatically, cutting off your rant. “Me too!” 

This conversation was so ridiculous - but, hey, the great Gojo Satoru always did bring out the worst parts of you. 

“Nuh uh.” 

“Yuh uh.” 

“Then why are you so stiff when acting like you’re in love with me?”

Somehow, that makes Gojo shut up. Mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water - gasping out a strangled little, “B-because- well-” And if you didn’t know any better you’d say that was a light blush dusting his ears.

Only for a split-second, though, because he’s grabbing you gently by your shoulders, more seriously than you’d ever seen him. “Fine. Listen, we both want the same thing right? To have pretend-sex and ace this film to win like five Oscars?”

And maybe at the heat of his newfound proximity, maybe at the way he was looking at you so goddamn intensely - you feel something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach. Swallowing thickly, you manage to get out, “I’ll be the one winning the Oscars...but yes.”

Gojo’s gaze roams all over you - from the quirk of your eyebrow to the dress hugging you so sinfully tight. “Then we’ll do it. Ace the scene.”

Traitorously, a shiver runs down your spine. And because the universe loves to play jokes on you, Gojo notices - of course, he does. Eyes lighting up with amusement and something you really didn’t want to decipher as you blink up questioningly, “How?”

“Method acting, silly.” he rolls his eyes, as if he wasn’t implying something that wasn’t seen in even the cheesiest of romcoms. “Think of it as running lines.”

If there was ever a moment where your life flashed behind your eyes then this just might be it. 

“You-” you gulp, so hot all over. “You better shut the fuck up and pray your face is insured because-”

At this, Gojo throws his head back and laughs - loud and boisterous. And usually you’d have a thing or two to say about keeping his voice down so as not to let anyone outside hear, but shit you were mesmerized. Damn, a weird little part of you kind of understood why directors loved him onscreen. 

“Feisty,” he muses. “But how can I shut the fuck up when they’re second-guessing the two best actors in the game?” 

“The best? Me, maybe.” you lean in closer, mouth as bitchy as ever - even when you’re so obviously crumbling bit by bit under his gaze. And he knew that. “But not you.”

“Well, only way to find out is with tomorrow’s scene, right, sweetheart?” 

He drove you mad - everything from his heady cologne, to the way that overpriced button-up clung to him like second skin. But, don’t pull away - how could you? Not when he inches closer ever-so-slightly. Not when he lets those overpriced glasses slide down his nose, eyes locked so heavily on you.

Fighting to keep your words steady, “There’s nothing special about that scene, just fake moan in front of the camera, right? We don’t need any…‘method acting’.”

Gojo only raises a brow in amusement, lips curling into a grin that really makes you too aware of his little dimple by the corner. “Then why…” His eyes flicker down from his hands, searing on your shoulders, to yours - still grabbing his collar, just grazing the soft skin of his neck. Not pulling away. “...can’t you let go of me, sweetheart?”

And then you’re kissing him - or maybe he’s kissing you, you really don’t give a fuck. The only thing running through your mind being that shit this was Gojo bane-of-your-existence Satoru, and he tasted so…sweet. Like those cheap lollipops he often snuck on-set. Strawberry, you think.

But you don’t get to confirm, because suddenly he’s pulling away mere millimeters. Whispering hotly, absolutely dripping with something dangerous, “Sooo, is that a ‘yes’ to running lines?”

“Ugh, shut up.” your lips ghost his. “And just fucking kiss me.”

And, well, Gojo doesn’t have to be asked twice. Because it only takes a split second for his lips to find yours again. 

Yeah, definitely strawberry lollipops.

You hadn’t filmed any of the kissing scenes just yet, but damn you didn’t expect him to be so hot and messy - like he was drunk off of you. Licking at the seam of your candied lips, groaning softly like he wanted more more more-

“Sh-shit, Goj-” 

“Call me ‘Satoru’ when we’re fucking.” he cuts you off. “Or, my bad. When we’re ‘running lines’.” 

Shameless. Though, you guess you weren’t any better - not as you press yourself closer running your hands all over his sinfully thin shirt, feeling every bump and curve of his abs. “You talk too much, Toru.” you hiss, muffled against his lips. 

Oh that cute lil’ nickname had all the blood rushing to Satoru’s cock, you were so unfair. 

“You little minx.” Like a little punishment, he’s biting down on your bottom lip, tugging lightly at your surprised squeal. “You’re gonna regret that.”

“Hmm, I doubt it.”

And then your back is hitting the couch before you can react, bouncing lightly at the sheer force. And you’re so swept up in him - the way he hovers over you, arms looping around your waist, his knee wedging between your legs - that it almost hurts for you to pull away.

“Patience.” you huff out a laugh at Satoru’s disappointed whine, eyeing those pretty pink lips mere inches away from you. You just wanted them on yours. So badly. But no, there was something more important you had to do right now. “Jus’ thought we should record our little rehearsal, whaddaya think?”

“Record it?”

“Record it.”

“Record it, hmmm?” he’s whispering, more to himself than you. Fumbling with the zipper of your dress. “So you’re sayin’ we tape it, let the camera see how pretty you look all fallin’ apart f’me.” Kissing down your neck, letting the flimsy fabric fall down, “N’ then we improve for the pretend sex. Shut all those snobby directors up by giving them the best fucking sex scene they’ve ever seen.”

“Y-yes?” you mutter, as he starts tweaking your hardened nipples through your bra, clearly having way too much fun with this. “Unless-”

“Fine by me.”

The fabric hits the floor before you even realize what’s happening. Head spinning too much from the idea of being fucked on camera - by Satoru of all people, it takes you a second to realize that this bastard fucking ripped your dress off. 

“You probably broke-” 

“I’ll buy you a new one.” muffled, as he kisses down your navel, blindly fumbling with his phone. 

“It was expensive.”

With an impatient sigh, Satoru sets the camera up on the coffee table beside the couch. “Five new ones.” Angling it just right to perfectly capture you - in all your disheveled, horny glory, and Satoru, smugly seating himself between your thighs. 

“Ready?” he asks, finger hovering over that damn red button.

Well, it’s just for rehearsal, right? Right? 

“Do it.” you manage to get out, voice getting stuck in your throat at the faint ding! that rings throughout the heady room. “For my Oscars?”

“For my Oscars. N’the camera’s gonna know.”

And whatever retort on the tip of your tongue dies when he rocks his hip against yours, grinding his cock against your soaked panties. Rock-hard and so damp with precum already - so big that any and all rational thinking flies out the window.

Which is probably why you’re letting out such a pretty gasp, ‘S-Satoru, I want-“

“What?” And Satoru only flashes you a devilish grin, hands spreading your legs as far as they’d go on the couch. “This?”

He licks a long, long stripe up your inner thigh, all the way till he just meets the hem of your drenched panties. Teasing. So hot and depraved in the way he breathes in your scent. 

“Oh fuck, sweetheart.” Satoru grunts, looking down in awe at the damp fabric, so flimsy and see-through with your sweet juices. You slick beading through so sloppily, just a hint of the state you were in. “You don’t know how you drive me mad.”

Rip! 

He’s so fucking starved that he’s just tearing your poor panties clean off. Throwing them behind him to God-knows-where before spreading your swollen folds with his thumb, showing off just how wet you were for him. 

“You’re a tease.”

“And you’re fucking addictive. Look how fuckin’ wet you are. For who, huh?” he slurs, breath hot against your cunt. Circling your entrance just barely with his fingertip, teasing you like he was addicted to those frustrated moans coming out of your pretty lips. 

“S’for you-” you whine, “All for you, Satoru.”

“Exactly what I wanted to hear.”

And that’s all that needs to be said before he’s burying himself nose-deep. Drunk off your pussy as he licks long, languid movements. And it wasn’t enough - never might be, actually, because only one taste and Satoru was like a man possessed. 

Bullying his tongue between your folds, just dipping into your sloppy hole in a way that had your slick smearing all over his pretty face. Letting out such deep groans that had you clenching around his hot tongue. 

Shit, if you knew that this was the way to shut up the great Gojo Satoru then you would’ve done it a lot sooner. Because for one in his life, Satoru’s too entranced with something else to run his mouth, so fucking satisfied between your thighs. 

“Fuck- hah- think I like you better w-when hngh- you’re like this, Toru.” you purr, breath hitching as he bullies his tongue between your folds. 

Maybe you were an idiot - maybe you were a genius, because that only sets him off more. 

And suddenly Satoru’s pulling your body closer onto his hot mouth, like you were weighless. Pushing himself so impossibly closer while he makes out deeper with your wet cunt. 

“Ah! Hngh- Satoru-” you keen, tugging at his soft locks. As delirious as Satoru was pussydrunk. Drinking in all your cute lil’ whines of his name, angling your hips to lick all over like he couldn’t decide between fucking your sloppy hole or toying with your poor, ravaged clit. 

“Mhm?” he murmurs, the vibrations making you squeal.  Eyes rolling to the back of his head as lets your sweet juices slide down his throat. “Ya like this?” Stretching you out on his tongue, thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. Over and over- “Like when I tonguefuck your pretty pussy?”

“Ngh- love it- s’good. Ah fillin’ me up s’good.” you squeal, bucking your hips desperately into his pretty face, broken little whimpers leaving you at each rough push of Satoru’s tongue. 

And oh Satoru thinks he wouldn’t mind being on his knees every day if it meant he got to taste you like this. “Tell the camera too, sweetheart. Practice how you’ll come around my tongue.”

Those words send a jolt up your spine - or maybe it was the way Satoru was sucking harshly on your clit. “F-fuck off.”

“Mhmmm, n’ this is why I’m the better actor..”

Ugh, this fucker. And with that you fight to turn your head - looking right in the camera. Feeling so fucking lewd as you let out such pornographic moans.

“Yeah- feel s’good.” you whimper, “Wanted this for so long, ever since I first saw- ngh- you-”

And shit were you so fucking evil - at least warn a guy! Because that has Satoru’s heart lurching, almost jumping up from between your legs before it hits him with a pang - ah, right, you were just quoting your character’s lines. Of course.

Well, two can play that game.

“Yeah?” he mutters into your folds. Two fingers plunging knuckle-deep in your pussy, massaging your plushy walls. Roaming around for that one spot he knows will have you falling apart so deliciously. “Can’t believe I waited s’fucking long. Y’know how hard it was to hold back? With you wearing all those slutty skirts f’me?”

Your body is jerking violently, both at his - practiced - words, and the way he was devouring you like you were his favorite meal. His favorite taste.

So eager and in-character with the way he was setting such a dizzying pace on your poor cunt. Slick trailing down from his fingers, all the way to his wrist. So sloppy and- Pressing down. Hard. “Found it.”

And you can only sit there and take it, such cute little whines of Satoru’s name leaving you as he leaves no mercy. Jaw grinding deeper and deeper, maddening. Aching as he rolls and swirls his tongue against your clit over and over. And you were so-

“Close?” Satoru’s grunting and smacking his lips against your own. Truthfully, he didn’t even have to ask - if the way you were trembling and squeezing so fucking tightly around him was anything to go by. “Go on darling. scream my name. Show off f’the camera like you do best.”

“Sh-shit. Toru- fuck yes-” you’ve got an iron-tight grip on his hair now, pulling and angling him as you pleased for more. Barely able to let out those strained lil’ moans, definitely not with the way he’s dragging your sloppy pussy all over his face. Fingers cramping up from how rough he was going - but still not stopping. 

“Go on. Cum f’me.”

And then you are. Letting out such a teary, strangled moan of Satoru’s name as you cum all over his face. 

And it’s not just for the camera either - because this orgasm is probably the best one you’ve had in a while. So hard that you don’t even realize you’re arching and rocking your hips into Satoru, white-hot pleasure behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. Using him. 

And he doesn’t stop you. Why would he? You were so pretty falling apart all because of him. He wishes he could see this more often…

“S-Satoru.” you mewl, overstimulated. Jolting with each flick of his tongue, trying to close your legs but you can’t - he won’t let you. Greedily lapping up all your sweet juices, everything that you give him. 

“Nope.” he drawls, finally pulling away, delicate strings of your slick snapping as he does. Looking so fucking drunk off of you that it makes your cunt quiver exhaustedly. “C’mon now, sweetheart, you were s’pposed to say my character’s name. S’how the scene goes.”

Oh. Shit, you got too caught up. But one look at Satoru - eyes half-lidded, hair disheveled, your juices glistening all over the bottom half of his face so prettily - tells you he was much the same. 

“Well…” you huff, voice shot. “According to the script you were supposed to stuff that-” pointedly eyeing the achingly hard cock straining his pants, “-in my mouth first before eating me out. So here we are.”

With a chuckle, he rises slowly. “Touché.” Looking you straight in the eyes - and probably into your very soul - as he pops his fingers into his mouth. One by one. Groaning at the taste of your sweet sweet juices while he sucks them clean. “But I don’t think I’d last one second with those pretty lips wrapped around my cock.”

And it almost makes you want to tease him for it - one of Hollywood’s biggest It Boys but you can’t handle a lil’ blowjob? But all of that gets stuck in your throat as Satoru starts peeling off his shirt ever-so-slowly. 

Shit, you think. All mouthwatering curves and dips, all the way from his toned, milky shoulders down, down, down to those neat tufts of white peeking out from the hem of his underwear. Sculpted like he was handcrafted so meticulously - a fucking masterpiece, you had to admit. 

One that made you wish you took a longer look at all those shirtless magazine covers instead of throwing them out. One that had your thighs squeezing in such anticipation.

And Satoru seemed to be admiring you just the same, eyes locked on your pussy, the way it glistens and clenches around nothing - so ready for him. Distinctly aware of how pathetically needy you were being in front of the blinking camera, you crane your head to glance at it. Was it really capturing-

“Now now, first rule is to never look at the camera during this scene.” Only for Satoru to squish your cheeks together, forcing you into an embarrassing little pout as he turns you back to face him. “Look at me.”

And oh you can’t not look at him. 

Especially when he tugs his pants down, just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, so fucking long and pretty. Smearing glossy precum all over his abs, flushed your favorite shade of pink, rock-hard and so so angry. Shit, he was so hard it looked like it hurt. 

“Satoru…” you breathe, legs wrapping around his slutty waist to pull him closer. Only needier despite that little nagging voice wondering how the fuck you’d take his sheer size.

“Sweetheart?”

“I remember he didn’t do a lot of waiting in the script.”

And God were you right - but Satoru doesn’t think he could’ve kept this act of restraint up any longer even if you weren’t. Too impatient, too starved, his sanity dancing away from him with each second his fat cock wasn’t stuffed inside your pretty cunt. 

“Mhm.” he purrs, one hand reaching down to drag his fat head up and down your slit. Heavy balls squeezing painfully at the way your lip wobbles in frustration. Up and down up and up and- “You’re right.”

And then it’s like something snaps.

Because it only takes a split-second for Satoru to start splitting you apart on his massive cock. Big fat tears pricking at your eyes at the feeling that he was pushing all the way into your lungs. 

“Sh-shit, s’fuckin’ tight-” he lets out a low grunt at the slight resistance, taking everything in him to not just fuck into your snug pussy and use you like his little plaything. “You gotta hah- relax, pretty girl.”

You needed to relax more - to breathe maybe, just something. You weren’t even in the right state to wonder whether that little nickname was in the script - and God was Satoru thankful for that. Because all you can think of is how you never imagined what the bane of your existence would look with his cock stuffed in your dripping cunt - but now that you’ve seen it, you think you’ll imagine it for many lonely nights to come. 

“Hey, now. Don’t get camera-shy just yet.” Satoru gives your ass a playful smack. “After all, this is only the best- part-”

Each word is punctuated with shallow, mindless little thrust to fit himself inside your dripping pussy. Such cute lil’ whines leaving your swollen lips that he really can’t help but tease you a bit. Leering down at your fucked-out face with a smirk, “Or- my bad. Forgot such a scene would be hard for a rookie.”

Oh, did he know how to press your buttons just right. 

Because immediately, you’re blinking away the delirious haze in your eyes, voice so adorably shaky - but determined - as you grit out, “Bring it on, you B-list wonder.”

That’s all that has to be said before he’s finally bottoming out inside you, mercilessly. Inch by fucking inch. You gasp as his twitching balls smack your ass so lewdly, feeling his veins beat in such a slutty lil’ thump! thump! thump! against your heavenly walls. 

“T-Toru- big- ngh- too fuckin’ big. M’gonna break mpf-” his lips claim yours. Partially because it’s been way too long since he’s kissed your pretty lips, and partially because Satoru might just cum right then and there if he let you run your mouth. 

So he lets his hips do the talking instead. 

Cooing into your mouth at each little ah! ah! ah! every time he stuffed you full of his dick, quick, experimental thrusts to try and find that one spot he knows will have you falling apart so prettily.

“Sounds so beautiful, sweetheart.” rocking his hips faster into yours. So hard you were sure he’d leave marks. “No camera in the world can pick up how fuckin’ perfect ya are. Can’t ngh- pick up those cockdrunk lil’ heart eyes.” Angling your chin just so that your sinful expression is caught on camera, “Shit do ya even know you’re doing those? Might just make me lose it for real tomorrow. Might just make me sneak you off to the dressing rooms n’-” Manicured fingers digging into your hips while he fucks you in jagged, purposeful strokes. Hitting that one spot. Hard. “Fuck you all over again.”

You flinch as he uses you like some object. Dangerously liking it more and more as he smugly hits that magical spot over and over- 

And it was so sloppy - so filthy with the way Satoru still had remnants of your slick all over his lips, matching the way you were soaking his cock. Fingers moving down to draw erratic little patterns on your clit, making it even messier. 

Close - too close. 

So, so desperate and debauched.

“C’mon. Show the camera. Tell the camera how much you love it.” 

“Ngh- f-fuck you.”

“Oh? Who’s fucking who now?” he’s laughing at your absolutely wrecked state. You can feel Satoru twitch inside you as you mumble out such delirious little praises to the camera - were they coherent sentences? You’ll never know, because the next words that fall from his lips have your mind reeling. 

“God, m’addicted to you, my girl.”

“That’s not- ah- in the script, Toru.” you hiss. Close. 

“I know. And neither is that.” he leaves such uncharacteristically gentle kisses down your neck. Miles away from the relentless place on your poor, abused pussy, fucking you deeper and rougher every time despite already bottoming out. “Does it have to be?”

“Th-that doesn’t ngh- make sense.” you gasp into his open mouth. 

“Doesn’t have to.”

Maybe it’s the way Satoru’s panting those words against your lips. Or maybe it’s the way he’s looking right in your eyes while he says them - like it would kill him to pull away. Maybe even that fleeting little kiss he leaves against your lips. 

Because before you know it, you’re cumming and cumming so hard that you wonder whether you’d make it out alive. The only thing you can do is throw your head back and take it, thighs quivering, Satoru’s names spilling from your lips in such broken little whines while he thrusts so sloppy. Once. Twice. 

“Ah- this is gonna have me fallin’, huh?” And then he’s letting out such a low, muffled moan of your name, filling you up with rope after rope of his cum. 

What? 

It’s so messy - his cum overfilling your poor pussy, spilling out and coating his twitching balls. Shit, you can’t even worry about whether it would stain that overpriced couch below you. Not when Satoru’s whispering out sweet- lines from the script?

“Fuckin’ beautiful underneath me. Always was.” Hips still fucking into you - not even thinking at this point. “Always will be. Such a vision onscreen, sweetheart.” So thick and hot, and dribbling all the way down your legs with every movement.

And then Satoru’s lips are finding yours again, tasting so unfairly sweet while he drinks in all your cute breathless gasps. “Such a vision f’me.”

Those weren’t from the script either.

Something soft. Something scary. Something that has you looping your legs tighter around his waist, letting him collapse onto you. Pulling him closer, in fact, because now that you know the weight of his body on yours, it just felt so right.

It takes a moment of silence for you two to catch your breaths, the still rolling camera being the last thing on your minds. Neither willing to speak first, because shit Satoru might’ve gone to countless red carpets and film sets but this - you are what strips him away from all the glamor and fame. Until he was just, well, embarrassingly Satoru.

The Satoru that was now shifting shyly in your arms, trying to get up. “Uh- Hell of a way to run lines, huh? Better check the camera n’ see where to impro-”

He might be one of the biggest actors in modern Hollywood, but Satoru didn’t fool you - not one bit. So without a word, you’re tugging him back to rest against you. Heart lurching just a little bit as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. Like a little hideaway - from the camera, from the world, hell, maybe even from you.

“Y’know,” he flinches ever-so-slightly at your teasing tone, giving you a playful bite. “I have one area of suggestion and it might just be that you’re too good at ‘running lines’.”

“...Good enough to win those five Oscars?”

“No.”

“Then guess I better prove it to ya, huh? Is the camera still on, sweetheart?”

Just then, some weird little part of you thinks that, hell, maybe you don’t hate Gojo Satoru after all.

Not anymore, at least. 

---

The Enemies-To-Lovers Trope of The Century?! Hollywood’s Biggest Rivals Sport Matching Hickeys (And Smiles) On-Set of Upcoming Film.

Oops! Gojo Satoru's Phone Wallpaper Accidentally Exposed: Surprise, Surprise It’s His Leading Lady! More on Page 6.

“No Comment. Though, I Have Moved Trailers. Twice.” Anonymous Manager Speaks on Latest Movie Rumors.

Director Is All Smiles As He Raves About Upcoming Romance Movie. “Hell, If I Didn’t Know Any Better I’d Say They Were Really-”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

[lixzey]

forever yours.

one two

Timothée Chalamet, cheating on Kylie Jenner? The Wonka actor was spotted kissing an unknown woman in Los Angeles!

You stared at the article on your phone, your hands shaking. You knew you shouldn't think about it; after all, you and Timothée have been dating for four years, and he loves you—only you. But nobody knew that, though. He was a world-famous actor, and you were someone who just so happened to have his heart. You two had decided to keep the relationship low-key and private, away from the chaotic world of Hollywood. Nobody outside of both of your families and friends knew who you were or what you looked like.

You sighed, plopping down on the bed in your boyfriend's apartment. You have been living with him for the last two years, and you loved every bit of it. Timothée was the sweetest boyfriend; he loved to spoil you. He gives you everything that you deserve and more—his words, not yours. You couldn't ask for anything more; you were happily content with the love of your life.

But you still can't brush off the fact that in this story, you were the bad guy. 

It all started in December 2022, when Timothée was forced to date Kylie Jenner. His management thought that it would be beneficial for him, seeing that Kylie was Forbes' youngest self-made billionaire and had tons of fans, maybe more than Timothée had. At first, your boyfriend was reluctant. He didn't want to date anyone else other than you. You two argued, but in the end, you convinced him that it would be good for his career. 

Timothée signed the contract, and he was obligated to date the youngest daughter of Kris Jenner. 

It started with little appearances like Kylie showing up at your home, and you had to leave or hide because there were paparazzis all over the perimeter of your house. Your boyfriend was absolutely apologetic that you had to pretend that you were not his, and it broke his heart to see you smile from the sidelines. 

You assured him that everything's alright. You were okay with everything, as long as, at the end of the day, he came back home to you. 

Some Timothée's fans were hopelessly praying that it was all some sort of PR stunt—which it actually was, but you signed a non-disclosure agreement. You had no choice but to keep it to yourself. Their 'relationship' went on and on, giving the people the benefit of the doubt. 

Until early September, when the PR team decided that it was time to make it public.

You were a little bit heartbroken when you saw it on social media. It was at Beyoncé's birthday concert, a celebrity-studded event, which made it the perfect opportunity to show off their relationship. The way Kylie Jenner had her hands all over your man made your blood boil. Timothée looked uncomfortable, but he didn't have any other choice. You wanted to go and just punch that plastic woman for having her claws all over your boyfriend, but you couldn't do anything. You hated it, but you couldn't bring yourself to admit it. Because if you did, Timothée would drop it before you could even say no. 

The way your boyfriend has his arms wrapped around that plastic bitch made you want to slap her and tear off all the plastic she had in her fake body. The way she kissed your man made you want to feed her to the sharks in the Atlantic Ocean. The way your boyfriend had his hand over her ass made you want to go and make a deal with the devil to rid the world of that woman, and maybe chop off your boyfriend's hands while you're at it. But again, you couldn't do a thing. You were left to watch while another woman pawed at your man. 

Timothée did everything to make it up to you. He would always assure you that it was all for show and nothing more. He loved you, only you, and he would never dream of hurting you. You knew that, of course, but you can't help getting annoyed by it—you won't tell him that though, because you couldn't. 

But now you were a homewrecker, a slut. 

Apparently, someone saw you and your boyfriend kissing. It was your fourth anniversary. Timothée had brought you to your favorite restaurant in Los Angeles and was enjoying the night, celebrating four years of love. After a bit of wine, he kissed you, like he always did—momentarily forgetting his 'girlfriend'. 

The next day, the photo of you and your boyfriend kissing was all over the internet. People were calling you a homewrecker, a slut, a whore, and more. You practically had death threats filling up semi-trucks. People were telling you who you are, and you didn't have a choice, all because you loved Timothée. 

All of this for what? Celebrating four years with the man you love? 

You buried your face in your hands, trying to muffle your sobs. You felt like the whole world was against you, like you were the villain in some twisted fairytale. What did you do to even deserve any of this? You just wanted to be with your man, but the world had other plans. 

“Mon amour? Are you here?” A voice echoed from downstairs. You wiped away the tears from your eyes, putting on another fake smile as you walked down. 

“Hey, love. Are you hungry?” You asked, voice breaking. Timothée looked at you, and you knew he knew something was wrong. You mentally kicked yourself for being so utterly stupid.

“What's wrong, mon amour?” Timothée asked, stepping forward and wrapping you in his arms. 

“Nothing, it's alright.” You lied. You were getting pretty good at lying, not that you were proud of it. 

Timothée sighed, his arms wrapping you tighter against his body. “Y/n, please, baby. I know something's wrong; you've been crying.” You could hear his heartbeat, the loud thumping in his chest calming you. You sighed loudly, burying your face into his chest, the smell of his cologne invading your nostrils. You pulled away abruptly, and the look of confusion on his face made your heart wrench inside your chest.

“I'm okay, don't worry.” 

Timothée cupped your face in his hands, your eyes meeting his. “Y/n, please, mon amour. Just tell me, I just want to help.” 

You took a deep breath. It was now or never. “Have you seen the tabloids?”

Timothée sighed, knowing it was about his fake relationship again. “Can you tell me what it is, baby? I'm sorry I haven't checked out the news.”

“It's just....it's silly, honestly.”

“It's not silly if it's bothering you, my love.” 

“Someone saw us kissing yesterday, and it's all over the tabloids.” you mumbled, your eyes glued to the floor. 

“Oh, baby,” Timothée whispered. “I'm so sorry; I dragged you into this. It's all my fault.” he muttered.

Your heart broke when he said it was his fault. It wasn't; it was the people who were quick to judge. “It isn't your fault, Tim.” 

“It is, baby. I shouldn't have agreed to that PR stunt. I should've just turned it down and spent all of my time with you instead-” You cut him off with your lips crashing with his. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he deepened the kiss. You felt all of your worries evaporate into thin air, and all that mattered was him. The man you have spent four years with, the man you see a future with. 

You pulled away, making him growl as the feeling of your lips left his. You chuckled, kissing him on the cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you more, baby. But….” 

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “But what, baby?” You asked worriedly. 

“Can I see what the article says? And anything else related to it?” 

Your eyes widened slightly. It was one thing for you to read all of those horrid things people have written about you, but Timothée? He would break at the words people have said about you, and you couldn't live with him thinking his fans were horrible to the woman he loves. 

“Baby….” 

“Please, mon amour? You don't deserve to get all the hate.”

You playfully raised an eyebrow, trying to diffuse the tension. “Who said I was getting hate?” 

Timothée chuckled. “I know Hollywood.”

You let out a deep sigh as you rubbed your temples. “It's horrible, mon amour.” 

“I don't care; I still love you no matter what.” 

“You really want to read it?”

“Yes, I do.” 

You opened your phone and showed him one of the videos on TikTok about the articles. 

timmyfan1: omg timmy cheated on kylie with her? yuck, homewrecker. 

kyliestan_: such a slut, going after someone else's boyfriend.

timotheestan: die bitch

– timobaby: yeah, go die in a ditch you slut. 

– kyjennerbaby: not timothée's fans wanting the girl to die 😭

timotheechalamalabingbong: not timothée throwing away his relationship and career for this girl 😭 

kyliebaby: poor kylie, got her heart broken by this douchebag

jennersisters: anyone want to help me find that girl and slap the shit outta her?

– user1: count me in! 

– user2: me too! i'm gonna drag that little bitch down 

“I'm so sorry, mon amour,” Timothée whispered as he turned the phone off. “You don't deserve any of this.” 

You smiled sadly at him. “I know, but this is nothing.”

“No, it's not nothing. They want you to die, and that's not okay…” 

“I don't have any plans on dying, Timmy.” You chuckled. 

"But…but...”

"No buts. I know it hurts, but we have to live with it. I have to live with it. You'll just have to focus on your career, okay?” 

Timothée sighed in defeat. “You're the most precious person in this world; you don't deserve this.”

“And you know it.” You smiled, grabbing his hand in yours. “I don't care about their words anymore, as long as I have you.”

“I don't deserve you.” 

“You do; you deserve me and more.” You chuckled, kissing his knuckles. “I love you, no matter what.”

“I love you, Y/n, I love you so fucking much.” Timothée planted a soft kiss on your lips before pulling you again to his chest. “I'm yours, forever yours.”

You sighed contentedly, melting at his touch, feeling comfort and love in your boyfriend's arms. The only thing that mattered in that moment was you and him; no one could ever take away your happiness. 

Your boyfriend, your Timothée, yours. 

@helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @tchalamss @tchalamss @ashlynnmalfoy @crazycat-ladys-blog @michakune @mxltifxnd0m @spencerr3idd @dangelnleif @sthkate @ferrjulie @imnotoverlyobsessive @mel-vaz @elsagreeer @lovely-maryj @meowmeowmau @bobthe-turmpetman29 @saintcosette

[berzahoes]

moments | tom blyth

summary: moments with tom and you <3 oh, and keanu reeves is also there! (reeves!reader)

an: nepo baby reader my beloved 🫶🏼

ON SET OF BILLY THE KID

since your dad had a few weeks off, he decided to visit you and tom on the set of billy the kid, which was filming in canada. tom was nervous since this would be the first time your dad would see him act in person. you understood why since your dad was a big name in hollywood (and also named the nicest guy).

“he just texted, he’s here.” you told tom, who was in already in his billy the kid attire. you were hanging out in his trailer until he was called to set.

“is this really happening?” tom sighed. “keanu reeves is going to see me act . . . holy shit.”

“just pretend he’s not there or just relax. he loves you and he loves everything you’ve been in.” you stood up from the chair and walked over to him.

“apart from being a big actor, he’s your dad. what if he sees that i’m not good enough to be with you?”

“if he ever says anything like that, run. that’s not the real keanu reeves,” you replied and placed a kiss on his lips. “i’ll be right back, I’m going to go find him.”

“i have to be on set in two minutes. i’ll meet you guys over there.” tom said as you exited his trailer in search of your dad.

eventually, you found him talking to the stunt coordinator about, one of his favorite subjects, motorcycles.

“sorry to interrupt,” you apologized for cutting into their conversation.

“no worries, i better get going. it was really nice talking to you. thank you.” the stunt coordinator said as he walked away.

“tom said he’s going to meet us on set. they’re about to start filming.” you and your dad walked to where tom had told you to go.

“this is really nice. did you see that horse over there? beautiful horse. remember when you didn’t want to ride the horse on set of john wick?” keanu teased. you rolled your eyes playfully and kept walking to the set.

the scene tom would be filming was the opening scene of the whole show. your dad quickly made friends with the producers and director and sat by them when filming began. you watch your boyfriend get into character and deliver his lines perfectly. you didn’t know what it was, but you loved seeing him as billy the kid.

“cut! that was great, tom! we got it!” the director shouted. immediately your dad started applauding as loud as he could.

then tom joined you and your dad. “tom, that was amazing. you did an incredible job.” your dad complimented him.

“thank you, sir. it means a lot that you’re here.” tom replied. he still couldn’t believe keanu freaking reeves watched him act. you two have been together for quite a while so he didn’t have to be so nervous around your dad. but he was and hearing keanu say such kind words to him calmed him down.

“dad was talking about the horse.” you said, pointing to the horse that tom called his.

before you knew it, both of your guys were walking in the direction of the horse.

LUNCH WITH THE FAMILY

it was a nice day out in new york city. before you dad started filming for his new movie, he wanted to have lunch with you, tom and his partner, alexandra. he picked out where you would have lunch and texted you the address. it wasn’t that far from tom’s apartment so you decided to walk.

“what do you think your dad is going to say about this?” tom asked, referring to his recently bleached blonde hair.

“i think he’ll like it. i like it, but i do miss the brown hair.” you admitted. soon enough, you made it to the restaurant. your dad had gotten an outside table so you easily spotted him and alexandra waiting for you and tom.

tom had a hat on so your had hadn’t noticed the blonde hair until tom took it off. alexandra gasped as keanu chuckled. “you look great, man.” he brought tom in for a hug.

“you do look great, tom.” alexandra agreed and stood up from her chair to greet you and tom.

“hi, sweetheart,” keanu said as he hugged you and kissed your cheek. “when are you going blonde?”

“never. i think the only time i ever dyed my hair was when i had a mental breakdown during seventh grade and dyed my hair red.” you said as you sat next to tom.

“she had me up at two am helping her rinse because she didn’t want to get dye on her fingers.” keanu continued.

“you had red hair? i need to see that.” tom chuckled.

eventually the paparazzi found you and they kept some distance, but they still annoyed you. you four took the opportunity to mess with them and posed with peace signs or funny faces. it reminded you of the times when you did the exact same thing years ago with your dad. whenever he took you out to eat, the paparazzi would arrive seconds later taking pictures of you two. keanu suggested making faces at the camera so you did just that. now, you were doing the same thing but with your boyfriend, dad and stepmom.

KEANU REEVES, PROFESSIONAL THIRD WHEEL

“how’s the family?” stephen colbert asked. you dad was a guest and his show and he loved any chance he had to talk about you.

“family is doing really great, thanks for asking. i’ve spending a lot of time with my daughter. her and i are doing lots of activities like pottery, she loves pottery.” he explained.

“that’s great. and do you two always hang out when you’re not busy?” stephen asked.

“yeah, she sometimes has her friends over and i call her and ask if i could come over and then i take her friends and her to dinner or bowling.” he laughed as he remembered all the times he took your friends out so he could also spend time with you.

“i don’t know if you’re aware of this, but twitter has actually named you the professional third wheel because of these photos.” stephen showed keanu and the audience some paparazzi photos of you and tom walking hand in hand down the streets of new york and to the side was your dad with an ice cream cone in his hand.

“oh man, i mean it was going to happen,” keanu said. you and your dad actually had an agreement about what stuff he could share about when it came to being asked about you in interviews. “tom is a great guy, he’s the best.it looks like they’re annoyed with me, but I promise they’re not.” he laughed as another picture was shown of tom talking to him, but he was still holding your hand. whatever it was that tom and your dad were talking about, it seemed really interesting since they weren’t paying attention to you at all.

“oh no,” keanu hid his face in embarrassment. “she looks mad at me, i hope she wasn’t mad.”

“this is my favorite one yet.” stephen added as another picture came on screen.

the picture showed you on your phone walking while your dad and tom walked behind laughing hysterically at something that someone had said.

“are you sure i’m the third wheel?” keanu joked as the audience laughed.

“is tom blyth single?”

the cast of the ballad of songbirds and snakes were doing the wired autocomplete interview and it was tom’s turn to answer questions.

“i am not. i have a beautiful, lovely wonderful girlfriend.” he answered with a smile.

“and his name is keanu reeves!” rachel added followed by josh laughing.

“the pictures don’t lie, tom!”

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Humphrey Bogart (Casablanca, Key Largo, Sabrina)—John Huston speaking at Bogart's funeral: "Himself, he never took his work too seriously. He regarded the somewhat gaudy figure of Bogart, the star, with an amused cynicism; Bogart, the actor, he held in deep respect … In each of the fountains at Versailles there is a pike which keeps all the carp active; otherwise they would grow over-fat and die. Bogie took rare delight in performing a similar duty in the fountains of Hollywood. Yet his victims seldom bore him any malice, and when they did, not for long. His shafts were fashioned only to stick into the outer layer of complacency, and not to penetrate through to the regions of the spirit where real injuries are done … He is quite irreplaceable. There will never be another like him."

Buster Keaton (The General, The Navigator, Sherlock Jr.)—For me Buster’s hotness comes not just from his physical beauty but in the constant surprise and contradictions of the man, he’s simultaneously delicate/rough, feminine/masculine, confident/vulnerable, 5foot5 pretty face with an unexpectedly deep voice, at first glance you think oh he’s a cute little thing and then he takes his top off and it’s Superman abs underneath. He was intensely shy in social situations but had no hesitation in jumping off the top of a building. He famously never smiled on screen* but he exudes warmth and joy and laughter. He created some of the most beautiful, intelligent movies ever made but refused to acknowledge his own genius and talent as an artist, instead maintaining that all he wanted to do was make people laugh. If he was here in reality competing in this poll he would give it 100% but he would not be at all bothered if he didn’t win. And that’s why he’s the hottest vintage man. A vote for Buster is a vote for all that is good and decent in the world 💕 (*he did smile on camera occasionally despite his own assertions to the contrary 😄)

This is round 3 of the bracket. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage man.

[enormous amounts of additional propaganda submitted under the cut]

Humphrey Bogart propaganda:

Bogart on why he became an actor: "I was born to be indolent and this was the softest of rackets."

Bogart about his wife Methot [who later divorced him]: "I like a jealous wife ... I wouldn't give you two cents for a dame without a temper."

Bogart, on why he was one of the only cast members filming African Queen to avoid catching dysentery: "All I ate was baked beans, canned asparagus and Scotch Whiskey. Whenever a fly bit me, it dropped dead."

Bogart's advice to a recently-nominated friend on how to write an acceptance speech for an oscar: "Just say you did it all yourself and don't thank anyone."

"the way he looks at Lauren Bacall……"

Buster Keaton propaganda:

"Just look at his freaking face...."

This entire Tumblr page was submitted

This post

This video

"And for those who have never heard it, here’s his lovely voice in action: link"

Submitted: Link to Buster Keaton car stunts

Submitted: BK fancam

Submitted: quotes about BK video compilation

"Ripped body, gorgeous unique face, beautiful personality too"

[thisisallthehattersfault]

I said this in a discord server a little while ago but it's too funny to leave there so

Behind The Scenes AU where everybody is an actor BUT they still live in the One Piece world. The show itself is a historical dramatization, based on real people and events that actually happened.

Mihawk's actor did the Steven John Ward thing where he was so determined for his swordsmanship to look both accurate and effortless that he commissioned a replica Yoruha to train with and wound up accidentally unlocking armament haki in the process. Zoro's actor, like Mackenyu, is a life-long action star who does his own stunts, so he already had armament on his resume, and the two get way too into their duel and end up almost breaking several cameras, the set, and also each other.

In an interview Whitebeard's actor is asked about the difficulties of being a half-giant on a set of mostly human costars, and the topic of Ace's attempts on Whitebeard's life comes up. Ace's actor is Hollywood's sweetheart for how polite and sweet and well-spoken he is, everybody thinks of him as their golden retriever cinnamon roll, so the interviewer is like "How did you do it? He's so much smaller than you and so well-loved. I mean, when the script told you to backhand him into the ocean, what did you do?"

And Whitebeard's actor goes "I backhanded him into the ocean. That was real. He broke two ribs and dislocated his elbow and then said he wanted to go again because I didn't hit him hard enough."

Like. The Princess Bride style "everyone was harmed in the making of this video" shenanigans where every single actor at some point got so over-enthusiastically into their role that they wound up injured. Luffy's actor has gotten so many concussions from headbutting things he was only supposed to pretend to headbutt. Garp's actor (also an action star, also has haki) was in fact throwing actual cannonballs but ASL+Koby and Helmeppo's actors are determined to make him look like a lame old man so they always say it was faked. The real life actual Flower-Flower fruit goes up on auction and Robin's actress dropped like a million dollars bidding on it. She won.

[go-see-a-starwar]

THR: Even if you don’t work with someone on camera, there’s still a good chance of bumping into them at Manhattan Beach Studios. Was there a day where you were loitering near set and had an unexpected encounter?

Eman Esfandi: My most interesting encounter was when I was first getting to my stunt rehearsals. They have a stunt gym, and one day, as I was stretching and warming up, I just heard two people going crazy with some choreography. You could hear their sticks and their steps. (Esfandi mimics the sound effects.) And I was like, “Whoa!” It was an explosion of choreography that was a minute long, and when I turned to look around, there was this massive, statuesque man in a gray shirt. I didn’t recognize him off the top of my head, but he was just pummeling one of the stunt doubles that I know. So I went over to watch these guys spar up close, and then I realized it was Hayden Christensen. He’s huge. He’s a towering presence, and he’s so good at this. I didn’t know how good he was, because I hadn’t watched the prequels yet. And so I watched someone in real time who’s been put down in history and in this story for being one of the best with a lightsaber. So I was just like, “Oh my God, this guy is so good.” And then they were like, “Eman, you ready to start?” And I’m like, “Yes! When do I get to do that stuff? That’s my goal now.” So it was really exciting to meet him, and for a lot of other people, that would’ve been an even more insane experience. I just didn’t totally recognize him at the time.

The Hollywood Reporter - ‘Ahsoka’ Star Eman Esfandi Fulfilled His Own ‘Star Wars’ Prophecy: “I’m Going to Play Ezra”

[partycatty]

dark star!johnny cage > against the world

what it's like dating the evil version of hollywood's golden boy. it's not all fun and games, even if that's how he sees it

warnings: lowkey abusive relationship like just straight up. yandere. lil smutty but nothing horrifically graphic.

notes: listened to "wrap me in plastic" and "watch me work" while writing LMFAO also please god the coat stays ON ‼️‼️‼️‼️ hes so scrummy i need him biblically

masterlist &lt;3

part 2* / part 3* / part 4* / part 5* / part 6*

•first of all, dark star!johnny is so incredibly emotionally immature. he's a whiny bastard fr. hell hath no fury like a white man that's in the wrong during an argument with his girlfriend

•"baaaabe what's wrong?? it was just a joke!" after he says you're a 6/10 compared to a model on his phone. ZERO awareness.

•WALL PUNCHER. IM JUST BEING HONEST. your beautiful pale pink walls have so many shoulder-height white patches from you having to fix the wall every time his water has an inadequate amount of cucumber slices.

•he's got the same upbringing as the better johnny, shitty dad and dead mom. he just never really knew how to cope with it. equally as famous as his counterpart, he prefers throwing punches in action flicks. he's just somehow more of a dick about it.

•pampered to holy hell between shots, all relaxed in his chair with his name embroidered on it while one woman tends to his makeup, another to his hair, a third feeding him water. it's how he wants it to be, he needs to be perfect. he is perfect.

•spends like two hours getting ready, most of the time is spent on his hair. you tell him it'd be more efficient to trim it down a couple inches but he likes the way it flops over. you also like the way it falls in front of his face during his stunts. he's just so effortlessly sexy.

•uses his height and physique to his advantage. he loves backing you into corners and looming above you menacingly to watch you squirm, flustered. his large sunglasses reflect your pathetic little face.

•now with you, he loves to show you off, but not enough for you to steal the spotlight. you're his favorite little accessory that hangs off his arm. he chooses your outfits when you make public appearances. INSISTS on matching all the time. misty blue dress with gold jewelry to match his obnoxiously large coat.

•the good johnny plays things up for the camera and saves the sweetness for behind closed doors. dark star!johnny doesn't know when to turn off "camera mode." bro will not be sweet with you unless it gets him brownie points after he fucks up.

•he's so unfair. women fawn over him constantly and he smiles all smugly and leans into their touches. but if a man so much as looks at you for more than a couple seconds, he's beating the guy in moments.

•hates it when you find joy in other people. he will constantly fill you with thoughts that everyone will leave you one day for one reason or another, and that you should feel lucky that a world famous actor wants you.

•will make you turn against people you hold dear, he cuts them out of your life so they can't influence you like he does. this man is a smooth talker and hardcore manipulator that'll leave you anxious when you talk to anyone but him. he has you thinking everyone's out to get you.

•"come on baby, you really think they'd love you like i do? don't be delusional. it's just you and me against the world, you got it?"

•you guys have had so many public scandals, you're the main source of income for the TMZ employees.

•sex tape here, public screaming match there

•speaking of which this dude FUCKS. HARD. :3

•johnny will literally pound you into oblivion whenever he pleases. he prefers doggystyle so he can use your hair as leverage. sometimes he reaches forward and holds your jaw, chest pressed against your back as he mercilessly fucks you. he totally gets himself off on your pathetic moans.

•records it every time. partially to jerk off to later, partially as leverage against you.

•"you like that?" he'll ask in that low growl, somehow hitting even deeper. "nobody can fuck you like i do. so don't even fucking think about leaving - ngh -"

•after an argument, you'll find gorgeous purses or necklaces on your shared vanity. not because he's sorry, but because he knows you'll forget about how annoying he can be when he shells out a couple thousand on a gift for you.

•you could honestly probably do better, but who's gonna say no to johnny cage?

[uraveragelonelygay]

Danger

Colt Seavers x fem!reader

a/n: hey team! surprise! also, i despise the way this turned out. but i haven’t written in ages, so i guess I’ve gotta start somewhere. if it’s shit, i apologize in advance! but enjoy!!!

summary: you have an issue with your boyfriend’s addiction to danger. he doesn’t see the problem. but will he see it when the shoe is on the other foot?

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

“you’re not listening to me.”

“no, i hear you loud and clear. you don’t agree with me doing my job.”

you and colt have been at it for the entirety of your lunch break. this all started when you heard from your coworker, hannah, in the animal welfare department that colt had agreed to perform a stunt involving him leaping from one helicopter to another. you were outraged to hear this through the grapevine instead of from your own boyfriend.

so, when he walked into your tent during lunch with that stupid smirk on his face, you just lost it. needless to say, he was not receptive to your worries.

you sigh, running your hand through your hair frustratedly. “that is not what i’m saying and you know it, colt. i’m just saying i can tell you’re getting riskier and riskier. this isn’t a car roll we’re talking about here, colt. this is literally leaping through the air. something that could absolutely be done through vfx.”

he takes a deep breath, trying to calm the conversation down. “you just don’t get it. the pressure to agree to something when you’re on set with everyone watching you…you just don’t get it.”

you furrowed your brows at this. “i don’t get it? i work on a film set too, in case you forgot.”

he can feel tensions are high, so he attempts once more to calm things by making a joke…one that happens to be in very poor taste.

“i mean, technically, but, don’t you just sit in your trailer all day and tell dogs to sit and stay? it’s not like you’re actually experiencing the pressures of hollywood,” he says with a chuckle.

your heart drops at that. no way did he just demean your entire life’s work to ‘telling dogs to sit and stay’. you’ve worked for years to be a professional animal trainer for screen and stage. it’s been your dream since you were a little girl growing up helping your parents with the animal sanctuary they founded.

“what did you just say?” you ask, shocked.

you see the fear on his face as he realizes the implications of his own words. “oh my god, no, i didn’t mean-“

you cut him off, a look of pure betrayal on your face. “no, i know exactly what you meant. now, if you’ll excuse me, i have to get some dogs to sit.”

“baby, wait, i-“

“out, seavers,” you demanded.

colt knew upon hearing you call him by his last name that there was no mending this right now, so he nodded his head in defeat and slowly left your tent.

you sat down in your chair and put your head in your hands, trying not to cry. deep down, you knew he was just trying to ease the tension of the situation with his typical colt-seavers-awkward-humor. but you just couldn’t shake the feeling his words left you with. he knew how hard you had worked for this position and how demeaning people could be about it. you just never thought that your biggest insecurity would be the bud of one of his jokes.

taking a deep breath, you stand up and try to shake off your argument. you had work to do.

~

meanwhile, colt is back on set, trying his best to focus as dan briefs him on what his airplane jump will look like. understandably, the stunt man is having trouble focusing. all he can think about is the look of complete and utter betrayal on your face after he made that joke. that stupid fucking joke. why couldn’t he have thought before he spoke, just this once?

“earth to seavers…” dan snaps in colt’s face, trying to get his attention.

“sorry, dan, you were saying?”

dan rolls his eyes. “you might wanna listen to this, considering it’s going to be one of the most dangerous stunts ever performed.”

colt cringes at that. “actually, dan, on second thought-“

dan’s walkie interrupts the conversation as a panicked voice comes through.

“we have a code red in animal welfare, code red in animal welfare.”

colt’s eyes widen at that. “dan, what the fuck does that mean?”

dan puts up a hand to shut colt up. “shhhh, i’m trying to hear it-“

“everyone please clear the area, emts to animal welfare, emts to animal welfare.”

dan speaks into the walkie. “can we request some elaboration on the situation please?”

the walkie beeps with a response. “koda got spooked.”

colt is terrified at this point, his heartbeat ringing in his ears. “dan…isn’t koda a black bear?”

dan slowly nods his head, worry prominent on his face.

“colt, i think you’ve gotta get to animal welfare. this could be bad.”

~

as you slowly regain consciousness, the first thing you notice is that you can only see half as well as usual. you lift your hand up to your face with a shaky hand and make contact with gauze that seems to be covering half of your face.

“oh fuck.“

your words startled a certain fall guy out of his slumber. upon noticing the panic on your face, he’s quick to move to your side.

“hey, sweetheart, how are you doing?” he gently asks.

“that depends,” you start slowly, “do i still have two eyes?”

he stifles a laugh at your blunt response. “yeah, don’t worry. you still have two eyes. it was a close one, though. he got you pretty good.”

you look at him confused. “what even happened? all i remember is koda getting overwhelmed and going to jump on me. everything else is lost on me.”

colt sighed. “you were knocked unconscious once you hit the ground, but from there koda did some damage with his claws. luckily, hannah was able to get him off of you before he-“ his breath hitches at the thought.

you squeeze his hand. “hey, it’s okay. it’s all okay.”

colt’s face crumples at this as tears fall down his face. you take his face in your hands and gently wipe his tears away. “what is it, honey?”

“i get it now. getting the call on the walkie. i get it. my heart fucking stopped because i thought that you were gonna-“

you press a kiss to his forehead. “shhh. i didn’t, though.”

“but you could’ve, and the last thing i would’ve said to you was that dumb joke that was the opposite of the truth,” he sobbed out.

“baby, i know that. i was just upset in the moment because it hit a sore spot, but of course i knew your true intentions. we’re okay, yeah?” you stroke his hair to calm him down, and the two of you sit there for a moment until his sobs become sniffles.

you bask in the silence, happy to still be alive and still be with him.

“i’m not doing it.”

upon your curious look, colt continues.

“the plane stunt. i’m not doing it.”

you sigh. “i just worry, but ultimately you do know best-“

he cuts you off. “no, no. i learned today how terrifying it is to watch you in danger of losing your life. i can’t imagine how you feel everyday on set. i’m not doing it.”

you smile. “well, i can’t say i’m not relieved to hear that.”

he smiles back at you.

“i love you, darling.”

“i love you right back, fall guy.”

[viriscribe]

ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ - ᴍᴏʀᴛᴀʟ ᴋᴏᴍʙᴀᴛ - ᴊᴏʜɴɴʏ ᴄᴀɢᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴊᴏʜɴɴʏ ᴄᴀɢᴇ x ᴀғᴀʙ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ - "ғᴏʀɢɪᴠᴇɴᴇss ɪs ᴇᴀʀɴᴇᴅ."

ᴋɪɴᴋs : ᴅᴏᴍ! ᴊᴏʜɴɴʏ ᴄᴀɢᴇ, sɪᴢᴇ ᴋɪɴᴋ, ʀᴇᴄᴏʀᴅɪɴɢ, ғᴀᴄɪᴀʟs.

(ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜᴛ)

The position you found yourself in was downright pornographic. 

“Pluh.. please, Johnny..” You could barely register your own words. You were stripped bare, kneeling on the mansion’s cold marble floor. Johnny was sitting across from you, leaning back comfortably in one of his many lavish chairs. He was fully clothed, still in his suit from the award show you’ve arrived home from.

“No way, babe. You made your choice, now it’s my turn to have some fun.” The actor spoke down to you, a hint of satisfaction in his tone. “Think you can just play the innocent princess around those showbiz bastards?”

You shook your head, unable to come up with a retort. Mere hours ago, Johnny was accepting an award for his latest movie. His first one fully written and directed by him, it was a huge event for your lover! As he was swept away by adoring fans and paparazzi alike, you wandered to get anywhere but there. The lights, the glamor, it was a lot.. to put it simply. These events weren’t that special to you, but for Johnny you’d sit through them all. That doesn’t mean you couldn’t come up with your own fun, though. As the sea of reporters and cameramen flashed away, you cozied up to Johnny. A normal thing, a cute pose to assert your status as a couple. The position was like this, you’d stand in front of Johnny, your fronts facing each other. You’d look over your shoulder and give the cameras a big smile, the works.  This time, however.. you ‘accidentally’ place your leg between his. The perfect angle, not enough to send suspicion your way from any passing guests, but close enough for Johnny to feel your plush thighs right against his crotch. The silk fabric of your slip dress made it oh so easy to slide your leg back and forth, providing that sinful stimulation. 

Johnny flashed his Hollywood smile, trying to keep his cool. “Damn..” A breathy plea left his lips. “You vixen, in front of the crowd..?” You could feel him stiffen through his pants. “Fucking wait until we get home.” He wrapped an arm around your waist, quick to pull your body flush with his. You swallowed hard, not sure if the right feeling was to be scared or satisfied with your little stunt. 

That brings you back into the present, where your pussy is dangerously close to the chilly floor. Johnny knew what the temperature would do to you, but he also planned for your current brattiness. He made you kneel with your legs slightly spread, a hard position to hold for long. Sooner or later that cunt was going to meet the ground. Seeing you suffer in the meantime was a bonus.

“Please what?” He scoffed, “You didn’t give me a choice before you started rubbing on my dick.” The man pulled out his phone, taking a lewd shot of you. You tried to turn away, but it was no use. 

“I just wanted to have some fun..” Your breathing was labored, you legs were beginning to shake. “You know how I feel about award shows..” 

Johnny was quick to fire back. “And you know how I feel about disobedient sluts.”

Your mouth hung open, a tinge of pleasure sparking in your sex. Dominant Johnny Cage was something you’d never get over. As sweet, cocky, and secretly nerdy he was… the man was kinky. A pervert behind those sunglasses, but anyone could’ve guessed that. 

“You have a choice.” He called out your name, his words dripping with desire. “We can go to bed now and talk about this in the morning.. Gods know how fucking tired I am.” A beat passes, and you almost don’t catch Johnny unzipping his fly. “Or, you can show me how sorry you are. Earn my forgiveness for that stunt.” 

Even in his half asleep horny state, Johnny had the mind to give you an out. Fuck, you’re gonna marry this stupid guy. You decided to answer by looking up at Johnny with doe eyes, “I’ll do anything to be forgiven, sir.”

A throaty groan came from the man, and you knew you were in for it now. Your mind raced with the thought of your punishment. Was he going to make you kneel while he fucked your throat? Made to show the camera how much cum he can pump into your little mouth? Or was he going to take your over his knee, giving you spanks until your tears coated the floor along with your wetness. The possibilities were endless, and you were more than eager to please. 

“Stay there, princess.” Johnny got up, leaving you to kneel in the living room. As he wandered off, you couldn’t help but feel exposed. Not because you were fully naked, but due to the huge outlook right onto the city. That fucker probably designed his mansion with that view in mind, and all the dirty things he could do with that in the background. 

You struggled to keep the kneeling position, tempted to give yourself a break while your lover was gone. Though, maybe this was part of the game? He had cameras everywhere and you didn’t want to risk being caught disobeying again tonight. 

Johnny’s footsteps alerted you to his presence, the predatory aura sending shivers down your spine. In his hands was a favorite of you both. A quite sizeable fantasy dildo, one you’ve taken many times. It was large from the tip to the base, only becoming wider the way down. You gulped upon laying eyes on it, getting a good idea of where this was going to go. 

“H-Honey..” You shifted, your pussy dribbling right onto the tile. 

Johnny quickly shushed you, not pleased that you were speaking without permission. 

“Up.” He spoke and you obeyed. “You’re going to ride this cock until I know you’re truly sorry for what you did.” You nodded, turning your head to look for the bottle of lube that usually comes along with the toy.

“Oh, no.” Johnny laughed, “You’re not getting that luxury tonight. Plus..” He stepped forward, dragging a finger through your folds. “It looks like you’ve got enough down there already.” He couldn’t deny it, he was impressed. The effect he had on you was otherworldly, one the man would never take for granted. Johnny watched as your essence slowly ran down his finger. 

“Mmph!” You startled as he suddenly shoved the coated finger in your mouth, making you taste yourself. Johnny bit his lip as you began to suck on his digit. 

With a ‘pop’ he pulled back. The toy was then placed securely on the tile, a convenient suction cup keeping it in place. 

“Go on.” The stage was set, Johnny was going to enjoy this. If you did a good job to please him, then maybe you’d get the privilege to as well. “Put on a show for me.”

You sunk to your knees once more, squatting over the sizable toy. You didn’t dare look up at your lover, you already knew the fucker was recording. 

The tip of the dildo was thick, providing a sharp pleasure as you rubbed it along your cunt in an attempt to get some sort of lubrication. Your folds gave way to the toy, coating it in your slick. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the penetration. This was quite the task to do without a warm up, but it was your punishment after all. As the dick breached your cunt, you immediately cried out. It looked fucking massive in Johnny’s hands, now you can only imagine the view he was seeing. Your size difference was a massive turn on for the man, awakening the need to push you to your limits whenever he could. 

“Look at that, it’s stretching you so nicely for me.” Johnny smirked at you, angling the camera to perfectly frame your stretching pussy. 

Your vision blurred, the feeling of taking such a huge dick was heavenly. Pathetic half groans involuntarily slipped past your lips. Once the tip was inside, you paused before continuing your descent. 

Johnny hummed, mocking your predicament. He had all the time in the world. Seeing you so willing to please him was intoxicating. You took the shaft of the toy with ease, whimpering as you neared the base. Your breathing was labored, your eyes blown wide with need. As your cunt hit the base, a wave of fullness washed over you. Being oh so full, stuffed with cock… it suited you. The feeling of being pushed to your limit and then some, it was addicting, to say the least. And that was just on the receiving end. Describing your lover as ‘turned on’ was a severe understatement. The whole time you were sliding down on the toy, Johnny was stroking himself. One hand holding the phone recording your debauchery and one sating himself. 

“Ride it, bitch.” Johnny commanded, drunk with the authority he had over you. 

You didn’t need another moment. Your hips began to move, grinding on the dildo. Every inch of your cunt was being rubbed by the silicone. A steady growing ball of pleasure began to build in your core. You let all of your inhibitions go, humping it like a slut. The pace you set for yourself was relentless, wanting to give Johnny the show he wanted. He made sure to zoom in on your breasts, their bounce only made your act more vulgar. 

“Feel sorry yet?” He laughed at you, degrading you. “I want to hear it.”

You looked up at him, showing a hint of embarrassment. Johnny wasn’t going to let shit like that slide and you knew that. “Don’t act shy while you’re fucking yourself. Apologize to me as you fuck yourself.” 

Who were you to deny him? You knew your place, humping the toy as your lover pleased himself mere inches away from your face. If you stuck your tongue out far enough, you could get a taste of his dick. 

“I’m..” You began to bounce up and down the dildo, chasing your own orgasm. “I’m so sorry.. I’m sah..” Broken apologies fell from your lips, sad attempts at forming a sentence. “I’m so sorry, Johnny..!” Your legs twitched, you were close. Johnny knew this of course, but didn’t say anything. He was curious to see if you’d ask to cum, or risk further punishments. 

“May..” Your walls clenched around the cock, barely letting it go to fuck yourself. “May.. I.” Johnny huffed, pretending to not understand your gibberish. 

“May I please cum, Johnny!” Screams and moans errupted from your drooling mouth, “I’m so fucking sorry for what I’ve done, see! Please let me cum..” 

With a single word, Johnny allowed you your precious release. You fell forward, holding onto his leg as you fucked yourself to completion. It was a display of pure love and submission, you had never felt more safe and more vulnerable as you were in this moment. The pleasure snapped like a tense wire, and you felt your orgasm flow from your cunt and onto the floor. 

“The camera loves you, that’s it right there.” Johnny framed your face in the recording, catching your climax in real time. And if you humiliating yourself under him wasn’t enough, Johnny came as well. His cock shot ropes of semen all over your face, painting you for his final act of dominance. 

You smiled at the camera, wiping some of his cum off your face. With a dazed chuckle, you licked your fingers clean, blowing a kiss to the camera before the recording ended. 

 ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚________________

“Babe.. do you really not like award shows?” Johnny held you steady against his bare body, massaging shampoo onto your scalp. His aftercare consisted of a nice shower, one where you’d never move a muscle. After this, he’d wrap you up in blankets and hold you close as you drifted asleep, or maybe put on a movie. It depended on how spent you were. 

You shifted in his grasp, turning around to place a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Honestly, no. Though, I like you. I love you. Seeing my handsome boyfriend get recognized for his talent makes all of the screaming fans and flashing cameras worth it.” 

“Hah.. you called me handsome.” Johnny hummed a tune while he finished cleaning you both up. Of course, that’s the part he heard.

[elizzsush]

Mr. Hollywood | JJK Unfinished

Actor!Saturo Gojo X Makeupartist!Reader

----You are a makeup artist on the series jjk. One of the best in the business in fact! 'Gojo, the best actor alive' is the bane of your existence, a complete nepo baby in fact! It amazes you how full of himself he is, -and how much he just cannot sit still!

AUs: Actor Au! Rating: SFW ______________________________

"You get to work with the Saturo Gojo!" Your mother of all people spoke excitedly over the phone. The Gojo's were big in the entertainment industry, if the movie has a Gojo in or involved with it, people tend to know it's going to be a good movie. Actors, Directors, stunt doubles, if a Gojo was on it, it was popular. It was such a huge opportunity; people were desperate to get the name involved with them. "You better make a good impression- and get a picture with him for me!" She added on, “my baby, the head makeup artist.” She cooed over the phone, you smiled and rolled your eyes at the affection.

It was the third day in set and Gojo would be there! Finally done shooting the school club scenes and a hospital scene. “Yes mom, I know.” You shook your head, “I have to go now, don’t wanna be late.” You told her, you two said your goodbyes. Grabbing your bag, you were out the door an hour early.

.

.

.

“Somebody call Gojo’s manager!” The director shouted angrily. His face might as well have been red while he stood there impatiently gritting his teeth.

“We can’t get through to Gojo’s manager, sir.” An Assistant stepped forward hesitantly. Meanwhile you stood their awkwardly, next to a tired looking Megumi, another actor one who has worked on three movies prior with this guy.

Megumi scrolled on his phone in the makeup seat. A cup of coffee beside him as he yawned. “Didn’t get enough sleep?” You asked with a smile. He shook his head.

“Itadori wanted me to play a couple games with him last night.” Megumi smiled a bit, a look that he had been caught. Still he didn’t even try to deny it. “It’s fine, im use to staying up late.” He yawned tiredly through his words.

Megumi was a younger actor, yet he had these eye bags you fought almost desperately against with concealer. He wasn’t the largest name but he was a pretty popular actor. Acting since he was just a kid, his first and breakout role was beside Gojo himself. The Gojo that was late right now. Yeah, turns out you didn’t have to get here an hour early… on the bright side, you did manage to get  acquainted with one of the best special effects teams in the industry right now. And a very sweet stunt double for Megumi. Turns out, Gojo didn’t have one since his stunts were pretty tame compared to everyone else’s.

Either way, production was on hold because of said man who was an hour- almost two hours late. Meanwhile, while Megumi almost fell asleep in his makeup chair- Itadori was buzzing with Anxiety.

Not yet having his makeup done, he had eye bags as well- they were way worse then Megumi’s. “Did you get any sleep last night?”

“I’m going to be working with Saturo Gojo!” He blurred out with a dumb grin on his face. You just shook your head. You would’ve scolded the boy if you hadn’t been buzzing the was he was prior to leaving your house. Either way, you patted his unkept hair and began to work on his makeup. It was a Sukana scene and you made really nice, easy too apply temp tattoo of his markings in your fear time.

If it saved you time on set it was worth it. “Still, don’t drag Megumi down with you. The poor boy looks like he’s a second away from passing out.” You commented with a sigh.

“Megumi! We need you on set!” The director shouted over you making you jump a little at the suddenness of it all.

You sent a smile to Itadori and hope he didn’t realize you fucked up the makeup on his second set of eyes. You were a professional…!

.

.

.

Gojo was two hours late when he arrived on set. Waving away the directors complaints he plopped his ass on your makeup chair and waved to the awestruck cast and assistance. He hadn’t been to the area where the school scenes were being shot, so he used the opportunity to go to a restaurant he had been eyeing since his plan landed, sue him.

The director fumed behind him as he scrolled on his phone. “Where’s makeup?!” The director shouted finally- finally Gojo was here and makeup was gone? Absolutely not! This movie wouldn’t be a disaster. The director already had people complaining about the adaption already- apparently he wasn’t staying true enough to the original source material.

One of your makeup artists stepped forward. “Y/N had to take a call…” she smiled awkwardly, the director just rolled his eyes.

“You know how to do makeup right?” He grumbled, she nodded. “then do his makeup.” He gritted his teeth a stressed out look in his eyes as he walked away.

Gojo yawned, rubbing his eye and rubbing away all the poor makeup assistance hard work. She sighed and looked away and too the door- the door you had left through. In any other production she would be the top makeup artist, here though? You had worked on far more movies and with more people. It was your job to do the main cast- and you had!

It wasn’t your fault Gojo was so late….

“Y/n!” She breathed a sigh of relief, then she looked to Gojo’s face… his makeup was messed up and ruined- he just wouldn’t stop touching it, or he’d move way too much and-

“What did you do to him?” You bite back a laugh. She just gave you a tired smile before excusing herself. “Go take a Break, I’ll take over from here.” You relieved her of her duties. “Anyway- I’m Y/N, it’s nice to be working with you.” You introduced yourself and you two shook hands.

.

.

.

Okay so I’m not going to finish this. Sorry but this just doesn’t interest me anymore- I don’t know where to take it and stuff. If anyone wants it they can have it and like do it their own way or finish it? I did. have a single note though!

——-Gojo was a child actor and is tired of the whole industry always defying the director (like how he defies the elders in JJK)

Okay, thank you for reading my shitty writing and I hope you enjoyed this! Was suppose to be a five parter but hey you live and you learn you don’t wanna do stuff- also your too busy too but no one cares about that.

[grapejuicestyless]

You’re The Winner

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summery: Harry and you were once inseparable. Both reaching to achieve big dreams. You always dreamed of being a writer and director. You were no where near Harry’s fame, and he knows it. He’s not afraid to let you know it either. Based off the new Conan song, “Winner.”

I didn’t notice it at first, as it came in waves. Tiny jokes pointed at my deepest hurts. Insults baked in sugary dough to hide the sourness beneath. Small snickers traveling around the rooms we were in. Laughter growing when I turned my back.

Soon, his comments became more aimed. Less broad, more explicit. He was blunt in his insults. Snide remarks turning into insults meant only to tear me down.

It shouldn’t have hurt me this much, all these stupid comments. If it were anyone else, I would’ve brushed them off as pure jealousy. But this wasn’t anyone else. This was Harry. A man who had everything. Money, fame, friends, party invitations piling at his door. But more than that, he was my best friend. My guide through Hollywood. The kindest soul that I had ever crossed paths with one fateful night in late 2013.

Back then he was so shy, despite his huge successes. Despite all the gains he was making, all the achievements, all the accomplishments, he was just as humble and down to earth. Never once caring about anyone’s status. He couldn’t care less what projects I was pursuing. Who I was working with, how much money I was making. When I was with him, I was just me. Not some new rising director, some writer chick that was starting to make headlines. I was simply, me.

I don’t know where that Harry went, but this wasn’t him. I considered the idea that maybe a stunt double had stepped in to take the old Harry’s place. All while the old Harry was away at some lavish beach resort in some expensive town off the coast of Italy I’d never heard of. That would’ve made so much more sense, but impossible. This one had the same green eyes and devilishly charming smile. His hair was just as shiny and curly. Physically, he was the same.

To put a date to it, I could say it started around the middle of 2020. He was by himself now, no longer supported by four other counterparts. Finally the center of attention. He’d done relatively well with the release of his first project, but it was his second album that had launched him into a similar success that he had in the band. Magazines swarming him with covers to be plastered on, late night tv talk show hosts all but begging him to sit down on their overly bouncy couches to talk about his love life and music inspiration.

With this new found admiration from the public, the changes were starting to be made. He no longer reached out first, and when he did, it was forcefully. He always made sure to be the one to never text last. Feeling satisfied in leaving another on read. Old Harry could carry conversations into the next day. Texts flooded with his odd facts and silly jokes. Now it was purely business. Maybe some meet ups from time to time. But usually it was me planning to meet up with him. His simple response was a thumbs up, not really caring if I showed or not.

He grew more and more insufferable the longer his fame lasted. Making friends with the best of the best and not even giving a second look to anyone else. So quick to discard those who were once always there for him. He was superficial. Fake. I knew this, but my heart still beat for the sweet boy I met all those years ago. Cherishing the fact he still considered me his best friend, even after all this time. I shouldn’t have, but I did. I did because even with this new asshole persona, I believed that underneath it, the young boy was still there. He just needed to be revealed somehow.

Now I can see how stupid I was. As I sit here, in the darkness of his living room watching some old movie he claims is, “vintage.” Not enjoying myself as I thought I would, but shrinking into the couch cushions, eyes welling up with each new dig he was making at me and my career. Always so quick to point out the clear gaps in our success. Me, having only a few movies and awards to my name, Harry having a room dedicated solely to them. His wins for only his newest album towering over all the ones I’d won in my whole career. I wished I could’ve tuned him out. Ignored how he belittled me, treated me like gum on his shoe. I wish his words meant nothing but that. Just words. I wished and wished.

“You know, if you made movies like this, you’d probably be so much more successful.” He gently smacked the side of my arm, eyes glued to the screen. Not even looking to see my expression.

Maybe it would’ve felt better if he had. Then I would know he only did it to get a rise out of me. Now I could see he was only doing it because that’s how he was. This is who he’s become. That hit so much deeper. I couldn’t blame it on him trying to tease me, or being playful and it coming off too strong. He was just, something almost unexplainable.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” The words were bitter as they rolled off my tongue. The couch I was once sinking into so feebly losing connection with my skin as I shot up to stand over him.

“What?” He looked confused, eyebrow cocked and a playful smirk on his face. He knew, how could he not. He saw how I cowered away, slinking into another room where the quiet was more evident that the soft chatter and quick glances in my direction. Both of pity and interest.

“Do you feel good about yourself? Bringing me down like that? Honestly, Harry tell me, I’m really interested.” His eyes seemed to dull, the movie no longer of interest to him. He stood to match my stance.

“I was just joking.” His arms raised in a fake defensive stance. Smirk still evident on his face.

“You should be proud of yourself, are you? Take a bow! Are you proud because I’m not. I’m not proud to say that there’s honestly nobody who’s ever done better at making me feel worse. So congratulations, Harry.” I clapped slowly, feeling heat rising to my cheeks, tears brimming my waterline. Harry stood there the entire time, mouth parted open and eyes searching my face desperately.

“I don’t see what I’ve done wrong? I was just giving you some tips.” He could’ve fooled me with that statement. His face contorted into one of pure regret and pain, almost like it hurt to deny what he had been doing. Like he didn’t want to be a jerk anymore. Somehow, it almost made me feel guilty.

“I don’t need your tips Harry! I don’t need anything from you. I am perfectly happy with what I’m doing, I don’t need a boat load of awards to show for that. You said it yourself, right? I’m happy doing what I’m doing, so don’t you dare insinuate that I am not successful. Don’t you dare.” My finger found the center of his chest, pushing back on his muscular frame, eyes blinking rapidly to dissolve any tears collecting, threatening to roll down my cheeks. To embarrass me.

My honesty was met with silence, his mouth closing into a firm line, eyes cold and lifeless looking into mine. He seemed totally calm, the complete opposite of my rapid breathing and heaving chest. It made me angry. How could he stand there, chest to chest with his “best friend” and not care about what he was doing to me?

“Fine, okay. Fine.” I backed away slowly, nodding in his direction. My footsteps picked up, hand searching quickly for my coat that was slung over the arm of his million dollar couch.

I never planned on leaving, but if this was what he wanted, to be a jerk and expect everyone to fall at his feet still, then I would not be part of it anymore. I would not cave to his sick and twisted mind games. I would leave, and maybe, just maybe, if he ever came to his senses. If he could ever see just how awful he was to me and could find it in his now frozen over heart to apologize, I would come back to stand beside him happily. But I would not be the woman who stood behind him, a bystander in the future movie of his life.

Slipping on my shoes and reaching for the door handle I paused. Looking around one last time, taking in Harry, who looked just as defeated as I felt, I saw it. He was crying. He was crying, actually crying. Hand gripped over his chest and clawing at where his heart reside. Body shaking silently. Praying I would come back. I sighed, opening the door.

“Harry.” It was quiet.

“Y/n/n.” It almost sounded like a beg. It felt so good to hear him call me that again, a name I hadn’t heard in years. Not since this personality shift.

“You really are the winner.” I didn’t need to further explain myself, he knew what I meant. There really was nobody else who ever had done better at making me feel worse. Nothing that ever did quite kill me more than what he had done. He really was, the winner.

[kitweewoos]

Kinkley + Hollywood au (inspired by The Fall Guy)

Evan "Buck" Buckley: Stuntman Tommy Kinard: Stuntman Director

Evan Buckley, known to the industry mostly by his nickname "Buck" hasn't always wanted to be a stuntman. In fact, he bounces from job to job for a while after he left Pennsylvania in search of himself. He tries his hand at bartending, at ranching, construction, and he even tries out for the Navy SEALs. Nothing fits quite right, and when he drops out of his SEALs training, he finds two doors waiting for him. He can go to the academy to become a firefighter with the LAFD, or he can go into stunt work for movies. When he gets his first gig as a stuntman doubling for a small indie film, he knows he made the right choice.

Plus, he meets Tommy Kinard, the stunt coordinator for the indie film that kicks off his career and his reputation. He's a retired stuntman himself, taking a step back after a bad accident left him scarred and with a missing lobe of his lung, but Tommy is kind, and funny, and he makes sure that Buck is safe. When Tommy gets a project, he requests Buck. When Buck finds a project that he knows Tommy would love to be a part of, he finesses a spot for Tommy as coordinator. They're not together, not really, but there's something there.

"I got Gerrard to agree to let me work the camera for this next one," Tommy admits one afternoon while they're eating sandwiches on a break. "So, I won't be coordinating for you. But Hen Wilson is taking over, and she's the best there is." "You're the best there is," Buck tells him with a playful kick of his boot into Tommy's ankle. "But I know you want to direct someday, so I can let you go with one promise." "What's that?" "For your first big break, that movie that skyrockets your career, I want in." "As if you won't be there right alongside me."

And then, the worst happens. A stunt goes wrong, and Buck is caught underneath a firetruck against hard pavement, and his leg is crushed, his career absolutely ruined. He can't pretend that he's not in horrific pain this time, and when Tommy tries to be there for him, he simply recedes into himself. He can't possibly be the man that Tommy thought he was when he has to take pain pills every night and rub cream into his leg every morning just to function normally. He changes his phone number, and he finds a job at a bar, pretending like Buck the Stunt Guy never existed.

Until Hen calls.

Tommy's been given the chance to direct a new movie, and he's asked for Buck specifically. He swore off stunt work, but he could get back into it for Tommy Kinard. He could do anything for Tommy Kinard, to make him happy, to help him achieve his dream. He's on the next flight out to Australia, and meets Hen on set, who whisks him into his first stunt without letting him get used to being back, without getting a coffee, without even seeing Tommy.

He should've known then that something was up, but it isn't until Buck barrel rolls a car in sand and pops out with a thumbs up, that he sees Tommy, standing nearby with his hands on his hips in that beautiful, bitchy way that he always does. He wishes that things were different. He wishes that he had called Tommy back. He wishes that he hadn't hidden his head in the sand and refused to be a part of their whatever it was.

"Hey," his voice is small, and he's scared he'll say the wrong thing. "What is he doing here?" Tommy asks, not to him, looking over at Hen. "You said we needed the best. I got the best." "Get someone else," Tommy requests, and Buck deserves that. "Anyone else." "There isn't anyone else, and there isn't any time. We need Buck if we want this movie to work, and to be good. Right? You said it yourself; half the stunts only work if they're as good as Buck." "Fine, but he's your responsibility, Henrietta."

Tommy runs a scene over and over where Buck is blown back into a rock, and they have a fight on set in front of everyone, and at the end of the day, Buck meets Tommy in his trailer. Buck brings out the bottle of champagne he bought with Tommy the night before he started working the camera. He places it on the table in front of Tommy.

"I promised I would be here with you when you earned this, but I understand if that's changed. I forgot, I forgot that vulnerability isn't a weakness, and I know I should've been better. I just didn't want you to see me, you know, give up the way I was. I didn't want you to see me falling apart. I know that's not a good enough reason for what I put you through, for what I did to you. So, I'll go, if you want me to. I just wanted to make sure you had this, because from what I've seen of this movie already, I can tell it's going to be incredible. You deserve this." "I don't want you to go," Tommy says. "I can't go right into what we were before, but I want you here with me. Hen was right to call you, even though neither of us can ever tell her that. But, I want you here, Evan."

It takes a while for the trust to grow, but Buck wouldn't have it any other way, a steady, sure thing, rerooting and growing stronger in this new soil. When they're finally ready, at the wrap party, Tommy pops open the cork on the champagne, pours them both a glass, and they toast. Then, Tommy pulls Buck in and kisses him like they're at the end of a romance novel and they're about to ride off into the sunset together, where they can live happily ever after, and he might just be the stuntman, but he feels like the main character for once of his own story, and he feels like he's earned this happy ending.