domiiiino

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{ Camila Morrone, cis female, she/her } Is that DOMINO KINGSLEY? I heard the TWENTY SIX year old works as a ACTRESS. Which makes sense, seeing how they are ANALYTICAL, but can also be JUDGEMENTAL. Do they know what’s going on in the city? I heard they are a CLEAN CIVILIAN. 

FULL NAME: DOMINO DELILAH KINGSLEY.

ALIAS/NICKNAME: DOM, DEE-DEE.

DATE OF BIRTH: SEPTEMBER 9th, 1999.

AGE: 25.

ASTROLOGY: Virgo sun, cancer moon, gemini rising.

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single.

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bisexual.

RELIGION: Agnostic.

LANGUAGES SPOKEN: English.

OCCUPATION: Actress.

FACECLAIM: Camila Morrone.

TLDR: Domino is a former child actor turned into a Hollywood starlet. She's made a name for herself in this town. A very respectable actor who's earned various nominations and is an Oscar winner. However, she's got humble beginnings. LA native. Mom was a failed actress and Dad was a gambler / gangster. He couldn't pay his debts so he got killed. While Domino is very successful, she tries to be a down to earth person. Philanthropist. Producer. She wants to direct and is currently developing her own scripts. Maybe she wants to make a movie about the gangs of LA.

***

During interviews, you tell them your Los Angeles born and bred. Not a complete lie, but your birth certificate says Van Nuys. You say your father died of a terrible illness when you were much too young to remember what he looked like, but you know the details of his face all too well and know the only thing he suffered from was greed and the inability to pay back his debts. You say how grateful you are that you, of all people, are lucky enough to be living out your dreams. What you don't tell them is, this has never been your dream. This is your burden.

You are the only child born to your mother. She never dreamt of having children. She dreamt of riches. Of fame. Of being on the silver screen. She moved all the way from Kansas to California in hopes of becoming a star. Your mother did end up in front of a camera, some small amateur production, that ended up on a few websites. Nothing of noteirty. Your father wasn't a bad man. He wasn't a good man either. He was a troubled man. Ran with the wrong crowd. Borrowed money he had no business borrowing. Somewhat of a con man. Somewhat of a gangster. Your parents struggled. You always wished that struggle meant something, that despite it all, their love prevailed and they made it out of the pits. You learn at a young age there is no love between your mother and your father. There is barely any love between them and you.

You go to school. You have friends. Life is normal for the first seven years of your life. Your father's debts are drowning all three of you. Your mother's dead dream is killing her. She gets a thought mother's do. What about my child? What if she can do what I could not? You start skipping school for auditions. When you start booking things, your mother seems to forget about school all together. You make a name for yourself. Quite the child actor. A spot on a popular children's network makes you an icon. It's your paychecks keeping your family fed. Fame hits you like bricks. Your mother lives for it, but it makes you sick. Anxiety is your new best friend.

At a young age, you read what they say about you. The forums. The reviews. The videos. They say you're just a kid and that you'll be forgotten by the time your adult. Thirteen and you are determined. You have big dreams, somehow your mother's has become your own.

You are perfection personified. Don't do drugs kids. Don't have sex girls. Stay in school. My mother is my best friend. My father looks down at me from heaven. He isn't dead at this point, but you are smart enough to kill him off early. He's trouble and your father's ways will taint your pure image. You are a role model. You need to be perfect.

You can't wait to turn eighteen. The money you've been working for over ten years will now be yours. On your eighteenth birthday, your accountant gives you some bad news. You're not broke, but there's far less money than you were expecting. Father's greedy hands got a hold of a big chunk or two somehow. Your father's good at finding loopholes and your mother is great at being a doormat. The last time you see your father is two days after your eighteenth birthday. You disown him. He'll never take another penny from you. You make sure of this.

Perfection sheds its coat. Everyone has a little fun now and then, why not you too? You decide to go and party. You meet a boy. His life is so different from yours. He's not phased by you; Not like most are. You feel normal around him. When is the last time you felt normal? You fall and you fall hard. Work stops becoming so important. It's him and it's always going to be him.

A year into your relationship, your agents start calling again. Opportunities are arising. How do we drop the child and keep the star? This relationship sucks everything out of you. You want it all. You want to be great. You didn't make it this far to only get this far. Your ambitions drive wedges. You love him, oh you love him, but you're not ready to settle down. You have to make a choice. You don't choose him.

Script after script. Film after film. Premiere after premiere. No more auditions, you're offer only. You are a star. Legends want to work with you. Nominations. Awards. You are on top of the world.

Your father calls one day. You haven't heard from him in years. He's asking for money again. Greedy and bold. You tell him to fuck off. He tells you they're going to kill him this time. It's bad, baby. You hang up. Your mother calls the next day. Dad's dead. Found off the side of the 101. For once, the con man told the truth.

You're twenty six now. Still a beloved starlet. Redditors talk shit about you like they do, but you have far more lovers than haters. You're a philanthropist,you do a lot of charity work. You have producer credits. Hell, you're even working on a memoir. Keep it up, Domino. At this rate, not only will you be great, you will be one of the greats.

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

FIRST CUT IS THE DEEPEST: Her first love. Ideally, it would be someone who is close to her age (25-28). Someone who is gang affiliated. Someone who wouldn't be phased by her status and kept her grounded. She still thinks about more than she'd like to admit.

THE PAUPER TO HER PRINCESS: She likes a bad boy. Her tastes probably comes from her first love, but she craves a sense of danger. Gang related member. Situationship from hell.

DADDY ISSUES: Person responsible for her father's death. Must be gang related. This person is familiar with her father and probably dealt with his shit for years and years. Might be coming to Domino to collect for his debt that was never paid.

SHE'S GOT A TASTE FOR MEN WHO'S OLDER: The older man. Whether it's just a fling or a developing a relationship, her therapist is tired about hearing about this guy.

THICKER THAN WATER: Friend(s) from childhood. Before fame got its hands around her. Must be LA natives. They could've been friends the entire time or maybe they had a falling out or lost touch over the years. Either way, the girl they once knew has blossomed into a star.

SILVER SCREEN STALKER: Someone who's obsessed with Domino for some reason. Could be fun if they are gang related but not required.

SHARING THE SCREEN: Fellow actors who have worked with Domino. I would love a rivalry of some kind.

SILVER SPOONS: Friends/acquaintances that Domino has made from this line of work. I would love for her to have frenemies who they absolutely despise each other but act friendly to keep up with appearances.

[domiiiino]

CAMILA MORRONE via makeup artist @dianebuzzetta on instagram (September 11, 2023)

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♡ CAMILA MORRONE vogue mexico

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Their relationship was the question with no answer in his life; an eternal question mark drawn in rich ink. Together, they were a puzzle, with not just one missing piece, but several missing pieces, leaving the canvas of their relationship choppy and unfinished. They were a mystery that Jude was sure he’d never have the means of solving. It was not his feelings for her that left him confused, no, those were clear. The sky was blue, the sun was yellow and Jude loved Gemma. Past tense or present… the details didn’t matter. What was really so perplexing was their circumstance. From the moment they met, the two were on some fucked up Romeo and Juliet shit. As if that tale needed anything else fucked up added to it. They were on two totally different sides of a divided city, but Gemma had the luxury of being unaware. It became Jude's burden to bear.

Resentment got in his ear. It made him realize what he tried to ignore all along. It didn’t work then, it didn’t work now, and it would never ever work in the future. Of course, once Jude saw the writing on the wall, once he got a good beating from her daddy's friends, he decided he had to get out of it. He wouldn't end up dead like dumbass Romeo.

Yet, seeing her now, four years later, Jude can’t say that feelings haven't lingered.

At the confirmation that her boyfriend was nothing but a tool, a tool to stir up his own jealousy, relief washed over him. Good to know he wouldn’t have to compete for her attention tonight. Great to know he wouldn’t have to put anyone in a bodybag either. She liked him jealous, but he liked when she made him jealous. Something must've lingered for her too, huh?

“ ‘Course you do,” Jude quipped back, the proof of his Irish roots was in each word he spoke. “That’s cause you’re a dramatic little thing.” Attention seeking too, but Jude kept that to himself. “I truly think you missed your callin’. Fuck the ballet, you could’ve been one hell of an actress.”

Is this the dance they do first? With their eyes and with their words; One dig after another. Words would lead them to the dance floor. Let their hips do the talking instead of their lips. Finally, when their lips do speak again, perhaps they are kinder. Come home with me, his would invite. First to his apartment, then into his bed.

Now that it comes to mind, they never did have that one final, post break up fuck, did they?

When the bartender returned with her drink in hand, Jude slid his card to the man. “It’s been a long time,” he said to her, “I’m glad to see some things haven’t changed.”

Maybe it was the lights, or the electric headiness in the thrum of the music, but the gravity dancefloor felt as safe to her as the stage or studio. She loved to dance, all kinds, but there was a certain delight in the freedom afforded in her little gossamer world by champagne and just a bit of cocaine. And that was where she was when she saw him. Gemma was used to living with ghosts, so much so she barely noticed them – except for Gio of course. But she did not expect to find Jude here, those intense eyes staring into hers as if he’d been watching her in that way of his for quite some time.

And so she did the only logical thing – tossed her head back with delight and spun. Then he was gone.

Her fickle attention was soon snagged by a lovely stranger, and Gemma thought she might have imagined her ghost. He captured her interest for one song, and then it became abundantly clear that he lacked any sort of rhythm or personality to make up for it. Sighing, Gemma slipped from his grasp without another word, drifting to the bar for more bubbles to bring back her buoyant mood.

Gemma was innately aware of his presence. Even now, years after, and in this crowded pulsing club full of people who would love her attention – Jude was the center of her own personal gravitational force. She fucking hated it. She loved the way it felt to know he was watching her. She might hate him. Because when it all came down to it – Jude had left her. He’d call her foolish, naïve; and then walked out of her life with that fading black eye as if she’d been the one to give it to him.

“Who?” She asked in that honeyed, lilting cadence of hers, “Oh, that,” Gemma laughed and waved her hand vaguely, grace so deeply ingrained in her every movement that even this dismissal was beautiful. “He couldn’t keep up,” a step closer, a flash of cruelty in electric eyes as she pressed up on her tiptoes to murmur in his ear.

“I always did like you jealous, J.”

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me being strangled by someone who rightfully wants me dead: lmaooo i can't believe how bad u wanna fuck me

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Boyd Holbrook– 6:10AM Williamsburg (’Time Of Day’)

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Headcanon Meme

❤ - What does your muse look forward to in their soulmate? ❥ - How often/easily does your muse get heartbroken? ❣ - What calms your muse down? ღ - Sexuality? ⌚ - Does your muse worry about time? ❅ - Favorite time of the year? ✿ - Does your muse like nature in general? ✞ - Does your muse have any kind of religion? ✍ - Can your muse write? How well? ✎ - Can your muse draw? How well? ☁ - What kind of weather does your muse consider the best? ツ - Can your muse speak any other language other than their main one? ∞ - Does your muse believe in the afterlife? ✺ - Something your muse finds pretty ✆ - What is your muse’s phone gallery filled with? ❦ - What is your muse’s favorite fruit? ❧ - What is your muse’s favorite kind of food? ‽ - Something your muse has problems understanding ☺ - Something that makes your muse happy ☹ - Something that makes your muse sad/upset ✉ - How often does your muse text? ⌨ - How often does your muse use the computer? ♫ - What is your muse’s taste in music? ♯ - Something that gets your muse angry ⋆ - Your muse’s future dream and why ☮ - How much your muse worries about appearance

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Robert Boyd Holbrook for ALEXA ( 2018.09.18 )

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No fighting!

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did i talk shit? absolutely.

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holyqueens‌:

a hum escapes her as she lounges out on the bed. biting into her lip, she crosses her ankles and runs her fingers through her hair. stanley and axel were around tonight so no funny business would happen. her next client was someone just for a night. she didn’t know if they wanted to sit and chat or… if they wanted something to happen. shiloh sighs and looks down at her phone, texting her sister back and forth, keeping in check with axel and stanley, and answering some messages from her friends.

with a little wiggle, she brushes a piece of hair from her eyes and she looks up when the door handle starts wiggling. she hears the turn of the key and arches a brow as the person enters the room with her. “ – evening,” she murmurs and sets her phone aside before she’s standing up and giving them a flirtatious smile, hands on her hips. “what do we have planned for tonight, honey?”

His habits of visiting the Moon Motel started God knew how long ago. He’d never kept track, and wasn’t going to start now. Each room had a memory, this place was his home away from home. Even with the rumors tied to his name, Wells still came back to this place, and was always able to find a brave enough soul to tango with. Tonight, it was Shiloh, and tomorrow it would be some else. When he entered the room, she was already waiting for him. Wells liked that.

When his gaze matched hers, a smile, a genuine one, propped itself on the lines of his lips. “Hey, Shiloh.” She was no stranger, but he wasn’t much of her regular either. He didn’t answer her question, instead, he headed towards the mini bar and reached for the cheapest whiskey they had to offer. He filled two glasses, generously so. “Have a drink with me,” Wells offered, but not giving much room for refusal, as he held the glass out to her.

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¢

¢ for a late night text

 [Wells - sent at 12:13am] : Wyd?

[Wells - sent at 12:15 am]: Come over 

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