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fuckyeahgoodomens · 6 months

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Good Omens filming locations masterpost! ❤ 🐍😊 Part 1

I made a Google map containing all the locations, see here! :)

Part one contains Season One, continue here for part 2 and here for part 3 containing the rest of S1 and Season Two, also a bonus book mausoleum!!! (it is split into more parts because tumblr has a limit of images in one post :))

SEASON 1

London:

AC in Berkeley Square (S01E06) - Tavistock Square, London

Scene: AC swap back and decision to go to The Ritz

Availability (as of 2024): 7:30–21

Link on the map

Crowley in the pub (S01E05) – The Enterprise pub, London

Scene: Crowley drinking and meeting not quite corporal Aziraphale

Availability (as of 2024): Mon-Wed 12-23, Wed-Sat 12-24, Sun closed

Link on the map

Crowley on the way to the burning bookshop (S01E05) – Wardour Street, London

Scene: Crowley's Bentley rushing throught the streets of London

Availability (as of 2024): street all day

Link on the map

AC on the bus (S01E01) - Piccadilly Circus, London

Scene: Aziraphale and Crowley meet on the bus to discuss the antichrist, in the background the Piccadily Circus can be seen

Availability (as of 2024): street all day

Link on the map

AC at The Ritz (S01E01, S01E06) - Criterion, London

Scene: Aziraphale and Crowley at The Ritz in the first and sixth episode of the first season. It was actually filmed at the Criterion restaurant which since then has unfortunately been closed and now (2024) there is Masala Zone with unfortunately changed interier :(.

Availability (as of 2024): Mon to Thur 12:00-22:30, Fri 12:00-23:00, Sat 12:30-23:00, Sun 12:30-22:30

Link on the map

AC on the way to the manor (S01E02) – Whitehall street, London

Scene: Crowley with Aziraphale driving the Bentley to the Tadfield manor

Availability (as of 2024): street all day

Link on the map

AC leaving the St James's Park (S01E01) - Carlton House Terrace, London

Scene: The stars on which Aziraphale and Crowley leave St James's Park in Episode 1, Crowley tempts Aziraphale to lunch and they speed away

Availability (as of 2024): street all day

Link on the map

AC meeting in St James's Park (S01E01, S01E03, S01E06) - St James's Park, London

Scene: Aziraphale and Crowley's meeting in St James's Park by the ducks in the first season in episode one (about the antichrist), episode three (victorian scene) and episode six (the kidnapping)

Availability (as of 2024): 5-24

Link on the map

Newt meeting Shadwell (S01E02) – Between Westminster Abbey and Palace of Westminster, London

Scene: Newt meets Shadwell for the first time

Availability (as of 2024): street all day

Link on the map

The Bandstand scene in St James's Park (S01E03) – Battersea Park, London

Scene: The bandstand scene in season one.

Availability (as of 2024): 8am until dusk

Link on the map

Aziraphale stops Gabriel during his jogging (S01E04) - Battersea Park, London

Scene: Aziraphale stops Gabriel during the jogging.

Availability (as of 2024): 8am until dusk

Link on the map

'Crowley' outside his flat (S01E06) - Eastfields Avenue, London

Scene: The morning after the Apocaflop 'Crowley' coming out from his flat.

Availability (as of 2024): street all day

Link on the map

Dirty Donkey in 1967 (S01E03) - The Cat's Back pub, London

Scene: The interior of Dirty Donkey from 1967 where Crowley meets Shadwell for the first time has been filmed in The Cat's Back pub (the interior has been transformed into the 60s)

Availability (as of 2024): Mon - Closed, Tues: 5pm - 11pm, Wed - Thu: 4pm - 12am, Fri: 4pm - 1am, Sat: 2pm - 1am, Sun: 1pm - 11pm

Link on the map

Shadwell reports to Crowley (S01E03) – Best Cafe, London

Scene: Shadwell meeting Crowley in the present time.

Availability (as of 2024): street all day, the establishment itself seems closed now :(

Link on the map

AC talking about the Warlock's birthday party (S01E01) - Crystal Palace Park, London

Scene: Aziraphale and Crowley watching Warlock in the park with dinosaurs and talking about the birthday party

Availability (as of 2024): 7:30am - sunset

Link on the map

AC stopping in a cafe after the manor (S01E02) – Penge Cafe (then) / Antonella's Cafe and Bistro (now), London

Scene: Aziraphale and Crowley stopping to discuss how to find the antichrist after visiting the Tadfield manor, at the time of the shooting it was named Penge Cafe, now renamed to Antonella's Cafe and Bistro

Availability (as of 2024): Wed-Sat 8:30-5, Sun: 9-5

Link on the map

AC watching Hamlet in 1601 (S01E03) – Shakespeare's Globe, London

Scene: Aziraphale and Crowley secret meeting in 1601 during a Hamlet performance

Availability (as of 2024): They open at specific times for tours and performances. See performances and tours on www.shakespearesglobe.com/whats-on/, for example 3 APRIL - 23 OCTOBER there's a 'Pride Guided Tour bringing to life the queer stories and characters from Shakespeare’s life and times.' :). https://www.shakespearesglobe.com/whats-on/guided-tour-pride/

Link on the map

Crowley after bringing down the phone network (deleted scene, DVD) – Trinity Church Square, London

Scene: Crowley leaving after he brings down the mobile phone network in the BT Tower

Availability (as of 2024): street all day

Link on the map

Heaven top floor (S01E04, S01E06) – Sky Garden, London

Scene: The Heaven top floor background windows were filmed in Sky Garden, we are seeing this at the scene where Michael shows Gabriel the Earth Observation Files and during Aziraphale's execution (though the scene itself seems to be filmed with green screen)

Availability (as of 2024): the access is free but needs to be booked beforehand at https://skygarden.london/

Link on the map

Stairs To Heaven and Hell (S01E01) – The Broadgate Tower, London

Scene: Aziraphale and Crowley go to Heaven and Hell through the staircase

Availability (as of 2024): The tower is open Mon-Fri 9-18 but there is a reception downstairs where these stairs are – I've visited twice and once they were okay with me taking picks of the stairs and once not. The stairs are thought well visible from the outside and pics can be taken that way.

Link on the map

Aziraphale, Tracy and Shadwell on a scooter (S01E05) - Cardwell Road, London

Scene: Aziraphale miracles Tracy's scooter to fly with them and Shadwell to Tadfield

Availability (as of 2024): street all day

Link on the map

Where Shadwell and Madame Tracy live (S01E02, S01E04, S01E05) - Hornsey Road, London

Scene: The residence of Shadwell and Madame Tracy. We see it in episode two (Newt arrives), episode four (Newt leaves for Tadfield) and episode five (shaken Shadwell arrives, customers for the seance arrive)

Availability (as of 2024): street all day

Link on the map

Aziraphale eating sushi (S01E01) - Red 'N' Hot (closed), London

Scene: Aziraphale eating sushi with a surprise visit from Gabriel

Availability (as of 2024): It was filmed in the Red 'N' Hot – a sichuan restaurant, but it has been closed (now there is another restaurant with different interior)

Link on the map

Some scenes has also been filmed in the West London Film Studios.

Hambleden:

Hambleden is the place where most of the Tadfield village was shot :).

Tadfield Square (S01E01, S01E03, S01E05, S01E06) – Square in front of the church, Hambleden

Scene: Crowley phoning Aziraphale to tell him about the Armageddon in episode one, Adam reading and Anathema with R.P. Tyler in episode 3, seen R.P. Tyler meeting those going to the airfield in episode 5 and Aziraphale and Crowley are drinking on a bench after the Apocaflop and waiting for the bus

Availability (as of 2024): street all day

Link on the map

Adam's house (S01E02 , S01E03, S01E06) - Hambleden

Scene: Adam Young's house (can be seen in several episodes)

Availability (as of 2024): street all day

Link on the map

The Them buying ice-cream (S01E02) – Hambleden convenience store, Hambleden

Scene: The store that The Them bough ice-cream from

Availability (as of 2024): Street all day, the store Mon-Sat 8-17, Sun 8-16:30

Link on the map

The Them planning to stop Armageddon (S01E05) - Hambleden

Scene: The Them returning planning to go to airfield and stop Armaggedon

Availability (as of 2024): street all day

Link on the map

Anathema's cottage (S01E02, S01E03, S01E04) – cca 2km from the Hambledon square

Scene: The scenes with Anathema's cottage (Jasmine Cottage) were filmed here, it can be seen several times throughout the series (like Anathema moving in, AC dropping her off or Adam visiting her)

Availability (as of 2024): street all day

Link on the map

Others in England:

Warlock's house (S01E01) – High Canons, Borehamwood

Scene: The Warlock's home was filmed at the High Canons Estate which is listed on National Heritage List for England

Availability (as of 2024): The High Canons Estate is currently privately owned and not open to public, the house is not visible from road.

Link on the map

Hastur and Ligur hand over the Antichrist (S01E01) – Holy Trinity Church, Penn Street

Scene: Hastur and Ligur give Crowley the Antichrist at the graveyard

Availability (as of 2024): the outside should be available all day

Link on the map

(continue to Part 2 :))

#good omens #bts #filming locations #fun fact #masterposts #filming locations masterpost

1K notes · View notes

burnyouwithacigarettelighter · 1 year

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PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT ─── cillian murphy ✧𖦹

ೃ⁀➷ “I am turned inside out by the ache in your voice, the taste of your tongue." — ‘Afternoon Masala: Poems’, Vandana Khanna

pairing. cillian murphy x actor!reader

summary. you and your co-star, cillian, are having a hard time performing a sex scene for your movie. they do say, however, practice makes perfect.

warnings. swearing, thigh-riding, creampie, p in v, unprotected sex, mentioned/implied age gap, probably inaccurate depictions of actor-life, mirror sex, slight breeding kink, kinda innocent reader(?), AU cillian murphy (not married/no kids), SMUT UNDER THE CUT!

word count. 4.5k

a/n. this is not in any way meant to disrespect cillians wife😭 i js made this a not married AU to be convenient!

“Cut - cut, cut!” The director repeated, his increasing irritation colouring his voice completely. “Now, I said it earlier, but—“

You scrubbed your face with a sigh, getting up off of Cillian and the desk, who was propping himself up by the elbows. “It’s not passionate enough,” you finished flatly for your director, who nodded earnestly.

“I promise, this is as tiring for me as it is for you. Remember,” the director continued, the script half curled in his hands and making a thin flapping noise, “it’s the culmination of six months of pining. Six months of taboo, unrelenting, electric tension. Nothing more than stares in class and brief touches- you are supposed to be bordering feral for one another.”

You, and your co-star, Cillian, were currently filming the first sex scene of a movie portraying the forbidden, toxic love affair between a barely 18 teenage student and her much older teacher. Well, not exactly filming- you weren’t getting far with the scene, for the two of you just couldn’t get it right. Or, as the director liked to say, passionate enough.

The role was already incredibly taxing, even without the added stress of the sex scene: it was 20 hour work days, living on set in a trailer far from home, having to devote at least half of those hours to filming this very sex scene, and had a perfectionist director like yours.

The problem was that it was long, and the director wanted it done in one take. Brilliant man, he was, and had a love for this project you wished every director had for theirs, but he was adamant on it being done perfectly. He said it was intended to be the “primary and most iconic” scene of the entire film, for it was the crux of the story; the point of no return for the characters.

“With all due respect, I’ve never imagined such a scenario, much less had experience. Just how can you expect me to portray a student-teacher romance accurately?“

“That’s your job: to imagine and perform.” The director demanded, obviously up to his ears in frustration.

Just before you retorted irately, Cillian cut in smoothly. “I think what she means,” he said, watching the veins in the director’s forehead nearly burst, “is that it’s hard to perform because it’s not common. S’easy to act in love because there’s love all around, yeah? We don’t have much to go off of, visually.”

The director’s gaze rapidly flitted between you and Cillian for a moment, before letting go of his anger and sighing wearily. “You’ve never even thought about a superior that way? Someone older than you?” he pressed, obviously joking and trying to lighten the set’s mood.

You paused, and tried not to look at Cillian, your blatantly gorgeous forty-something co-star who was chosen for this role firstly, because of his stellar acting and secondly, because of how fucking attractive he was.

His character was a total fucking creep, and you knew casting Cillian had been a calculated choice; all in the name of making the audience’s guard come down to be smacked in the face by his immorality later. He was meant to be charming, handsome, and terribly, totally, off-limits: the object of completely forbidden desire, the line your character was desperate to cross.

It seemed the same in real life, too: the young inexperienced actress wanting to ignore those societal niceties and pine wholeheartedly over the middle-aged actor with decades of knowledge under his belt.

You weren’t, like, in love or anything, but you certainly reveled in his presence: he was patient, kind, and completely understanding of your lack of experience, always guiding you through all the steps an actor takes during filming like when to take off hair and makeup, what best to say to family and friends prying for details- all the things, he said, he wished someone told him when he was first starting out.

You were afraid you two had unknowingly fallen into a mentor-mentee dynamic, but there were always those spare moments, between hearty fits of laughter and silly conversation that you’d never expected to come from such an intimidating man as Cillian, where his rough hands would brush past your waist, gaze dragging up and down your body, sounding sensual and provocative despite nothing dirty leaving his mouth at all.

He made your insides pulse, especially when your more intimate scenes came about, and you could only have a lusting woman’s pipedream that he felt the same.

You still remember the first sequence you’d done with him: in the movie, your characters met after-class to make up for a missed exam, and it was the start of their corrupt attraction. Cillian had been pressed against your back, leaning over you to pressuringly peer at the test, large hand gripping your shoulder. The air felt steamy then, his body warm, low voice making you feel lightheaded as he recited his lines.

You shivered at the remembrance of the moment, coming back to reality, and you answered the director’s question with a vehement shake of the head.

The director let out a (strained) laugh, and smacked his palm lightly with the script, shoulders slumping. “Okay. Okay, we’ll - we’ll break for today. Take this extra time to imagine, research, anything- just practice the scene, alright? Practice makes perfect.”

You and Cillian nodded simultaneously, giving eachother a look that just screamed “he’s ridiculous” before tearing away from each other's stare to return to your trailers.

Later, you were getting ready to go to bed, peeling your freshly showered hair out of a small towel, when there was a knock at your trailer door.

“One second,” you called out, pulling on your silk sleep shorts. You vaguely registered how awkward it might be to be seen in your pajamas if the director or one of your fellow actors came about, but you were way too tired to care.

You did care, however, self-consciously crossing your arms and covering your thinly-clothed chest, when you opened the door and there on the steps stood your co-star, Cillian.

Before speaking, he looked you up and down, icy blue eyes gleaming behind an unfamiliar pair of tortoise shell frames. “You goin’ to bed?” he finally asked, tone husky.

His gaze lingered on the bare skin of your legs for a few seconds longer and you shifted uncomfortably, crossing your ankles together in a poor attempt to hide yourself.

“What do you need?” you asked briskly, more sharp than you meant it to be.

“Sorry,” he corrected himself, shaking his head and finally looking you in the eye. “I meant’a come by earlier… got caught up. I know this, ah, sex scene is tripping us up, so…” he trailed off, lifting up the white script he’d been holding behind his back. “Y’up for some practice?”

You blinked rapidly at the simple, innocent request. Mere rehearsal, not some lecherous late-night escapade you’d been dreaming up in your mind. “Oh… yes, of course,” you nodded numbly, moving out of the way to let him step in.

Only moments later, when he’d perched onto the edge of your vanity — looking uniquely casual in what you assumed was his version of pajamas: baggy gray sweatpants and a fitted, well-worn black t-shirt — did you realize the connotations of rehearsing your sex scene.

Sure, it was all pre-determined, every word you’d say and every action you’d perform, but still. Saying- and doing, such suggestive things after-hours? That was beyond your dirtiest fantasies.

However, you shook yourself internally: Cillian had come to rehearse the scene with professional intentions. Honestly, he’d probably done so because he was tired of you messing up the scene. He could do his own part masterfully, and you knew that if it’d been a better, more experienced actress by his side, filming would’ve moved on ages ago.

You took shaky, tentative steps near him, settling on your bed, watching him flip through the script— when he looked up and frowned.

“What’re you doing? Come here,” he gestured for you to come closer, almost a command. “We don’t have a desk, so we can use your vanity.”

You nodded, biting your lip and nervously complying with his words. “So, we’ll start from the beginning?” you asked, your voice -- and legs -- suddenly feeling terribly weak.

His eyes were still trained on the paper as he answered. “Not necessarily. The sex part s’really the only thing we’re having trouble with, yeah?”

You gulped, throat dry. “Yeah, I guess so.”

With that, he chanced one last look at the script, before diving into the scene. His actions were ones you were extremely familiar with, having attempted this scene everyday for at least a week now.

His body turned to yours, hands coming up to your jaw, and pressing your back onto the table slightly. He held you tightly, and made you look at him, while delivering his lines softly, memorable Irish accent replaced by his character’s generic American one.

Jiltedly, you did the same, poorly remembering what you needed to say and dragging through it like some amateur. “Fuck, sorry,” you cursed suddenly, tearing away from his touch and sighing.

He gave you a small, careful smile, immediately breaking out of character and taking a step away from the vanity. “No need t’be nervous. Practice makes perfect, right?”

You snorted at his quoting of the director. “I just… I don’t know what he means by passionate. I’m trying to be professional about this but - but I’ve seriously never been in some steamy love-affair.”

“Can’t really expect that of you, can we? You’re too young, too much’ve a good girl for that kinda ‘ting.” He said, hand coming up to your shoulder, the one where your silk tanktop’s spaghetti strap had slipped off, rubbing it soothingly.

You practically melted into a puddle at both the pet name and how the rough pads of his fingers brushed against your sensitive skin. You were so entranced you almost whined when he stopped and pulled up your fallen strap, but instead you wordlessly snatched the script that was dropped onto the table and found one of the lines, inhaling sharply and readying yourself.

Your hand came up to tug on the sleeve of Cillian’s shirt, as dictated by the script. “Sir, please,” you whispered out in your character’s high pitched voice, “I - I… want you to touch me.”

“This is -- wrong. I’m your teacher, and I…” Cillian responded, swiftly back in character, the back of his palm grazing your cheek. “I gotta break your heart, darling.”

You looked up at Cillian, summoning crocodile tears to fill your gaze. “Please. I need you.” Then, one of your clammy hands ran down Cillian’s chest as you spoke, like it did back on set. “I think of you, at night. I soaked through my shorts the day you scolded me.”

You heard Cillian’s breath hitch- his character, you reminded yourself. “Fucking hell… I think of you in class, sweetheart,” he growled out perfectly.

So far, so good, you thought. It wasn’t awkward, and was already miles better than the lackluster performances you’d given previously. You continued by leaning into Cillian’s touch, making him sit on the vanity— the part of the scene you’d gotten to this morning, before the director called cut.

This time, however, Cillian’s actions differed from the ones he was supposed to perform: instead of petting the crown of your head, his fingers trailed down your hips, sending shivers down your spine.

“I’ll be good for you, sir,” you recited, face growing hot as his hand inched closer to the curve of your ass. “You can do whatever you want to me.”

Cillian’s gaze had darkened now, flitting over your features. He didn’t say his line - or, had at least missed the timing, and you removed your hands from his body worriedly. “Are you alright—“

Before you could finish your sentence, Cillian had grabbed you by the ass, switching your places and setting you down on the edge of the vanity.

“Cillian!“ you squeaked out, the only thing you could really say as you processed what exactly just happened. Your mind was swimming with confusion — and anticipation — as he stood before you, legs pressing on either side of your knees and trapping you on the vanity.

“Improv,” he promised quietly in his telltale Irish accent, a sly wink appearing on his sharp features.

You bit your lip, nodded, and repeated your line. You trusted him to guide you — and the rehearsal — because, as mentioned before, he did these kinds of things often. If he thought you’d act better if you sat on the vanity, you’d sit on the vanity.

His hand then pet your hair, the other hand coming up to your chin and making you look up at him. “Whatever I want?” he murmured, back on track with the script.

You bat your lashes at him. “Everything. I’m yours.”

Now, this is where you thought Cillian would stop— because after your line came the kissing and the touching and the heavy petting: all things you thus far hadn’t filmed at all, because you couldn’t even get the dialogue out right.

Instead, he leaned down and began to press hungry kisses down your neck, making you gasp.

“What are you—“

“Shh,” he demanded softly, “it's all part of the scene, remember?”

You blinked dumbly, mouth opening and closing, unable to register a coherent thought or word. He said it was part of the scene but you’d read that script, and his teeth nipping lightly at your skin was not written anywhere within it.

But, you gulped down your thoughts, and belted out several more of your lines in tandem to his own. With his other hand gripping your thigh so tight you thought it might bruise, you were starting to think that maybe this was one of those lecherous late-night escapades you were dreaming of.

All you’d been doing was acting, like he’d asked, but still, you could see clear as day how that’d affect him— how easily it could be to succumb. After all, you were just barely restraining yourself from jumping his bones: how could you not, with his gorgeous face just inches away from yours?

Well, acting or not, you’d enjoy every minute of this.

When one of his hands began playing with the waistband of your shorts as he suckled on your pulse, that just right spot on your neck, you couldn’t help the whimper that left your mouth.

However, the noise seemed to startle him; jumpshock him back to reality, and your suspicions became completely confirmed when he pulled away from you roughly.

“Fuck, I’m—“ a pained grimace washed over his features, looking you up and down like he just realized what he’d been doing. “I don’t know what came over me, I— shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have come here tonight.”

You stared at him, body disappointed at the lack of touch, watching him press his pink lips into a conflicted white line. “What - what d’you mean?”

His gaze coursed over your every feature, so intently you thought he was admiring your face. “I can’t— we can’t happen. Y’too young, you’re, you’re too…”

“Then we can stop. If that’s what you want,” you murmured coyly, hand coming up to pick a piece of thread off his thin shirt. “But only if you ask. C’mon, say it: I don’t want you and I want this to stop.”

He groaned, biting his lip. “Don’t do that. I can’t do that.”

“Do what?” You tilted your head to the side.

“Tease. Because you know I won’t tell you to stop. ‘Cause I won’t be able to fucking control m’self,” he grumbled, before pressing a desperate, deep kiss to your lips, pulling you off the vanity and continuing down your chest.

“Then don’t. Take me for everything I have,” you whined, following his every move and manhandling touch.

He breathed heavily between kisses. “Saying those kinds’a words with that pretty voice of yours… fuck, you’re doing things to me.”

Your hands were trailing all over his body, and then you tugged his shirt off, desperate to feel him. He had similar thoughts, fingers dipping into your silk shorts and petting your hot mound.

“Need you,” you panted, and, at your words, he suddenly tore off your silk shorts and panties in one clean go, making you shiver.

He then sat down on your vanity chair and roughly grabbed you by the hips to place yourself onto one of his thighs. The thick fabric of his sweatpants, taking in your wetness like a sponge, made you wince.

“Go on then,” he demanded darkly, “get y’self off on my fucking thigh. Show me how bad you need me.”

You bit your lip, face burning with shame at the order. But there was an aching need in your gut, and the way he crossed his arms, watching and waiting for you to get the hell on with it, had you clenching around his thigh.

Your hands gripped onto his shoulders, and you began slowly rutting against him, the soft fabric of his pants doing poor work for pleasuring your core. You pressed your face into his shoulder, screwed up at the lack of friction.

“Can’t do it,” you whined, “Please.”

He rolled his eyes. “You said you needed me. You’ve got me,” he gestured to his thigh, “so get to work.” Then, he suddenly flexed, making an unwarranted mewl leave your mouth.

You wanted nothing more than his fucking cock, but here you were, pathetically pleasuring yourself on his thigh until he allowed otherwise. You nodded resignedly, and dug your fingernails into his shoulders, starting to set a steady pace of grinding down on him, slowly building up the heat within your insides.

You were moaning now, vigorously dragging your hips against him harder, needier, feeling the pressure in your cunt grow hotter and more rampant.

“Y’hear that?” He asked, one of his fingers tilting your chin back up to face him. “D’you even realize how fucking delicious you sound, all needy f’me?”

You nodded, but weren’t really paying attention: you were closer than ever, just moments away from falling off the edge— when Cillian stopped you.

“Stop,” he spoke, voice filled with sheer lust, and you whimpered at the abrupt loss of momentum. Then, he got up, holding you against him by the waist, looking down at his sweatpants. “You made such a mess… soaked all over m’pants.”

You didn’t — no, couldn’t respond to his musings, pressing your thighs together in an attempt to return friction to your needy pussy, biting down on your lip to muffle your breathy pants.

He noticed this, however, smirking and quickly pressing you stomach down onto the vanity. You caught a glimpse of yourself for the first time since your shower, and you flushed with shame: your eyes were heavy-lidded and dilated, lips pink and slick with drool, your brows in a perpetual knit.

You looked fucking filthy, and when you felt Cillian press his thick head to your entrance, something you hadn’t noticed he’d pulled out, too enraptured in your dirty expression, you shut your eyes.

You were suddenly so much more aware of the situation: you’d fucked yourself silly on your co-stars thigh, the co-star who was twice your age. He now knew you weren’t a talented aspiring actress, no, you were just a desperate little thing begging to be fucked.

“Hey, hey,” He tutted in mock-disappointment, “open your eyes, and fucking watch yourself. It’ll be good for our scene.”

You whimpered helplessly, obeying him and fluttering your eyes open, as he pushed his cock past your dripping folds inch by inch.

“Oh my god,” you cried out when he finally pressed all the way in. You felt so full, stretched to the brim with his hardened cock, so deep his balls touched your sticky clit.

“So fucking wet,” he commented, chuckling darkly behind you. You were totally slick, helping him enter you faster, but his cock was still a foreign intrusion to your inexperienced cunt: you were young, and had never been the type to “get around” — at least not with the intentions of getting fucked so much you could take any length of dick easily.

You clenched around him, a groan leaving his mouth at the increased pressure around his cock, and he snapped into you, making you bounce forward as your lips parted with a sweet moan.

You’d been focussed on his face, in the mirror, but Cillian’s hand suddenly tangled through your hair, grabbing a fistful of it and lifting your head to face yourself. “I told you to fucking watch yourself,” he spat, gripping your hair tightly. “you’re the reason we can’t wrap up, so do your job and fuckin’ practice.”

With that, Cillian started pounding into you, digging the rough pads of his fingers into your hip, and you would’ve protested such a fast progression — having been given barely any time to get used to his long cock — but your expression was even worse than before, if that was even possible.

Your mouth was open, tongue out and panting like a fucking dog, your lustfully sticky spit spilling down your chin to your chest, and your eyes were rolling into the back of your head with each hearty thrust Cillian delivered you. The sounds you were making weren’t helping your embarrassment either, all unintelligible mewls and needy whines for his cock.

“You’ve wanted me for so long, haven’t you? I always knew what a filthy desperate girl you were, pressing up against me during shooting… those naughty hands on my thighs,” he snickered.

“Needed you in me so bad,” you whimpered, nodding enthusiastically, barely able to register what you were doing now with the pleasure washing over you and clouding your senses. Your back was arching into him, sucking in his cock and never wanting him to leave despite the mind-breaking ecstasy that was coming from his pounding.

“Just look at your dirty fuckin’ face… so pathetic.” he murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek; sweet and lovely, a stark juxtaposition to his unrelenting rutting and degrading words.

You whined at his words, but you knew they were true: you’d never seen yourself get fucked, always too busy with, well, getting fucked, but seeing yourself in the mirror like this had you unexpectedly hotter than before. There was just something about it, your face unabashedly contorting around the pleasure, Cillian’s hands snaking up your body as he rammed into you in the background.

Kind of like your own personal porno, you thought offhandedly, and you wondered how it’d affect you if you filmed yourself. Hopefully, with Cillian.

His other hand then came up to your folds, spreading them apart so he could see himself disappear into your hole. “Fuck, your cunt’s so perfect,” he growled, his head falling back, losing himself in the pleasure.

The orgasm building in your gut wasn’t like the one when you’d been grinding down on his thick thigh, no, it came faster, making you sweat and your knees shake. You wanted more, and you gasped out “faster,” and “harder,” to Cillian, needing him in the stick spongy spot deep in your cunt.

“Please,” you begged without any expectation of a real answer or action, “please, Cillian, please.”

He did go faster, though, to your apparent shock, both hands coming to your thighs to steady himself. “So needy,” he grumbled, pushing himself deeper and more swiftly into you, feeling how deliciously your fleshy walls tightened around his new pace.

With that, your high came just as quick, hitting you like a fucking freight train and making you scream out his name. Your orgasm wrecked you, made your vision go white and your thoughts stutter to a complete halt, and you vaguely made out Cillian’s proud hum, whispering “Good girl,” in your ear.

When you came to, your head was hanging low, your eyes blown out, lips puffy. Cillian was still thrusting into your worn-out pussy, but it was more jilted, shaky and needy.

“Come in me,” you pleaded suddenly, gripping the vanity to keep your trembling legs up, “fill me up, please, make your come spill out of me.”

“Good god, girl,” he groaned, pounding one last thrust into you before letting go, his cock pulsing around your wet core. He was pressed up to you so deep you could feel him shoot his load right into your cervix, and you grinned weakly, a sweet image of you: knocked up with his kid, your cunt so young and fertile you’d get pregnant from just about anything from him, entering your mind.

After a moment, he slipped his softening cock out of your filthy cunt and picked you up by the waist to set you down on the vanity and keep you from falling onto the floor.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, looking up at him through your lashes. You then bit your lip, feeling his thick load of creamy come ooze out of your used hole onto your vanity.

He noticed too, letting out a satisfied groan, spreading your legs lightly, before collecting himself on his finger and pushing his come back into your cunt. “Such a good girl,” he reiterated, going back to being sweet and petting your hair, doting on your weak form, looking deep into your eyes.

You swooned at his delicate actions. “Is this a good time to say I like you?”

He laughed, all adoringly. “It’s as good a time as any. I like you, too, if it’s any consolation.”

“But you, y’know… you said I was too young,” you reminded him, frowning slightly.

He sighed, gaze drifting away nervously for a moment before coming back to you. “That I did, but, well… if you wanna take this old man for a ride before I keel over,” he shrugged.

You couldn’t help the laugh that belted out of you, his words so ridiculous and completely not based in reality. “Oh, sure,” you said, shaking your head, lips still in an amused tilt, “you’re mine, old man.”

Before he could speak, probably say another stupid joke, your hands wrapped around his neck and you pulled him toward you, pressing a soft kiss to his plump lips.

“I like you like you, okay?” You whispered, sounding incredibly juvenile but twice as heartfelt, your tone wavering and self-conscious. You were bearing your heart on your sleeve here, okay, acknowledging feelings you thought should never come to light.

His hands came up to your face, gently holding you. “Good thing I like you like you, too.”

ii.

“Cut!” The director called, and you swore you felt your heart drop to the floor. Fuck, you thought, mind racing, what went wrong this time? Was it the kissing, or the hands in the hair?

However, the director came up to you and Cillian and let out an uncharacteristic shriek of delight. “Perfection,” he said simply, bordering on catatonic with how content he was.

Your shoulders slumped with relief, and you leaned into Cillian, who was subtly dancing his fingers across your thigh. “It’s finished?” you asked, breathless with excitement.

The director nodded. “That was electric, needy, tense, delicious, passionate, so, so passionate,” he continued with a gasp, hands clasping together tightly. “You are two of the most amazing actors I have ever worked with— you are incredibly talented, so convincing I’d have thought you did sleep together.”

You preened at his praise, but not without looking up at Cillian, meeting his gaze and barely keeping your expression happy and neutral and not at all warm at the thought of the other night's events.

As the director went off rambling about the utter masterpiece the movie was to be, Cillian trailed behind you off the set, murmuring lowly in your ear, “I guess practice does make perfect.”

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy rpf #cillian murphy x reader smut

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zone-22 · 2 years

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Buy Star Anise

Star Anise has a rich flavour where it is a major component of garam masala. It is widely used in Indian cuisine. Get great offers and fast home delivery.

#Star Anise #Garam Masala #Rich Flavour #natural

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starmasale01 · 2 years

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Spice Up Your Dishes with Premium Chilli Flakes | Star Masala

If you're looking to buy chilli flakes, Star Masala is a great choice for high-quality, flavorful flakes. Their chilli flakes are made from carefully selected and dried chilli peppers, ensuring that you receive the most potent and delicious product possible. Star Masala's chilli flakes can be used to add a spicy kick to a wide range of dishes, from pizza and pasta to soups and stews. With affordable prices and a commitment to quality, buying chilli flakes from Star Masala is a great way to enhance the flavor of your meals and add some heat to your cooking.

#Premium Chilli Flakes #Chilli Flakes #star masala

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artyandink · 4 months

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Five-Star

Summary: You’ve been dating Dean Winchester, which is nothing short of a fever dream. A brilliant fever dream. But when you decide to test him on how much he wants you, you don’t get the answer you expected to have.

A/N - Welcome to the Karak Chaii-verse! I had an idea to write Dean with an Indian POC, since I’m one myself. Creds to @zepskies and her brilliant Midnight Espresso-verse, and you should definitely check that out. This is a small drabble that I thought up.

Your family had moved to the US around a year after you were born. That’s because the monsters in India were far more dangerous than in America due to the origination of them from the depths of Indian mythology, such as a rakshasa or arunasura, but you found that here was far more escalated.

At least, you’d found out when you met the Winchesters.

You came from a long line of crazy good Indian hunters, so you were already a great one yourself. Back in India, your parents would pose as part of the CBI, but you had to resort to finding someone who could make you a believable FBI badge once you turned eighteen and got into hunting solo, which was around 1997. There you met Bobby Singer, who hooked you up with what he called the ‘All-American Hunting Kit’, which consisted of an array of fake IDs and a lore book. You were glad your training, done by your dad, was done by the intensity of monsters in India rather than here, otherwise it’d be harder to get by.

On a hunt for a vampire and wraith hybrid in Grant Pass, Oregon, you came across the Winchesters, the shorter of the two having dubbed the hybrid ‘Jefferson Starships’. That man was Dean, and you were taken by his charming, goofy attitude that switched to an attractive sort of intensity when faced with imminent danger. You just didn’t expect ‘imminent danger’ to be the mother of all monsters.

Once your parents had found out that you were hanging out with the Winchesters, who were at the centre of any and all supernatural trouble in America, they sent you a thousand calls telling you to get your ass out of there before you got killed. You being you, you didn’t listen. Not when you knew that you’d get withdrawal symptoms from not seeing the million dollar smile of Dean Winchester, which quickly won you over (and his lips too, which knew damn well what they were doing).

As for Sam, you quickly saw him as your little brother figure, who also helped you manage your unruly hair by recommending the right hair products that you now had stocked up. You’d both nerd over monsters, you’d tell him about all the ones you’d encountered in India while Sam told you stories about all that he and his brother had gone through.

Which was no less than a lot. And you thought India was a harder place to live, by what your parents told you. Here there’s the friggin’ Apocalypse.

Dean was obviously your favourite Winchester. He’d told you he really liked you about two years and a half after you met amid averting eyes and stammered words as he spewed compliment after compliment, standing there in the Bunker’s kitchen like a nervous melon in his grey robe, black shorts with hot dogs on them and black undershirt with fuzzy hair.

You’d cut his nervous ramblings off by pulling him in by the lapel of his robe, lips puckered in surprise as they met yours as the tangy taste of cherry and sweet, buttery pie crust flooded your taste buds and even more so when Dean quickly took control of the kiss, hands tangling in your hair and grabbing at soft curves like his life depended on it.

One thing Dean loved about you was your cooking. Your mom had taught you a wide array of Indian dishes that you could cook, and the moment the first bite of your rajma and rice graced Dean’s mouth, it was hook, line and sinker. You’d taught him how to eat chole bhature, roti and sabzi and which masala was which so he could know what the hell did you put to make him fall for you over and over again.

You were scrolling on your YouTube shorts one day when you came across a video of a woman asking her husband what his favourite snack was to see if he’d say her or not. You didn’t look like the definition of a snack right now, with your unwashed hair tied up in a bun that your mom taught you to do with no hair tie whatsoever in grey sweatpants, Dean’s undershirt and fuzzy mismatched socks, but you decided to try it out anyway as Dean came into the bunker’s living room, approaching you from behind with a delicate yet possessive cup of your chin and a kiss to your temple.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He greeted in that low voice of his that was effortlessly seductive even when he wasn’t trying, his hand sliding down to comfortingly rub over your chest and shoulder as he passed by. “Doin’ ok?” He sat down beside you, arm around your shoulder as his fingers began to play with your hair, warm green eyes trained on you.

You nodded, setting your phone aside. “Doing alright, yeah.” Then you decided to try out the question. “Dil, what’s your favourite snack?” You called Dean dil sometimes because it meant heart in Hindi, and he had yours.

The question got a chuckle out of him as he jerked his head to the right in amusement. “Awh, sweet girl, that’s hardly fair. I’d say beef jerky, but that new thing you, uh, introduced me to really raised the bar.” His brow furrowed in thought for a moment in contrast to the large grin on his face. “The aloo whatzitsname.”

“Aloo lachha.” You corrected with a giggle, barely holding back the urge to say what the answer was.

“Yeah, that. Or, uh, pie, but that’s a dessert and not a snack. Maybe that rajma stuff, but that’s a meal.” He continued rambling on any and all snacks he’d added to his palette since meeting you, until a bout of laughter from you slowed his roll. “What? What’s so funny, huh?”

“So… your favourite snack isn’t me.” You teased with a smirk, which got the cogs in his head turning. “You failed, sorry, honey.”

The words got a raise of his eyebrow and a slow and subtle roving of his eyes down your body and a bite of his lip. To him, you looked absolutely delicious. Like the best thing at a five star restaurant.

He stood up with a low grunt, facing you before grabbing you by your hips, hoisting you up so fast that you had to wrap your sweatpant-clad legs around his waist with a small shriek. “See, baby, that’s where you’re wrong.”

He leaned forward, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss that bordered on reverence and somehow the intention to devour at the same time, which had you moaning already. His tongue slipped into your mouth, briefly getting a taste and giving you the distinct flavour of the aloo chaat you had made for lunch mixed with beer before he pulled back and nipped your bottom lip, groaning at the feeling of your fingers now tugging at his hair.

“You…” Dean paused for a breath and a low chuckle, staring at you hungrily. “You are the whole damn buffet.”

TAGLIST:

@k-slla @hobby27 @supernatural-jackles

#supernatural #dean winchester #spn #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x you #spn masterlist

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dw · 1 month

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pupusas: proceso + producto!

pupusas de carnitas y nopal — carnitas preparadas por hervir cubitos de puerco con especias enteras de garam masala (hojas de laurel, semillas de cilantro, anís estrellado, canela, y otros que no me recuerdo), pimienta negra, comino, y sal hasta que se evaporó toda la agua y entonces triturarlos y freírlos; nopal; y queso oaxaca dentro de unas tortillas de maíz

pupusas de garbanzos refritos y queso — frijoles refritos de garbanzo, jalapeño, ajo, y queso cotija; y queso oaxaca dentro de unas tortillas de maíz

salsa roja salvadoreña — tomates cherry de heirloom (algunas del jardín de mi mamá!), jitomate, y jalapeños preparados por hervirlos y licuarlos antes de cocinarlos otra vez

servidas con kimchi de rábano en lugar de curtido, rábanos dulces en vinagre, y salsa verde de aguacate

no tuve frijoles pintos pero he tenido garbanzos por mucho tiempo y quería usarlos pues hice una versión de frijoles refritos con ellos. tampoco no tuve curtido que es tradicional, no me gustó lo que tuvieron al supermercado, ni no quise hacerlo entonces usé kimchi porque son suficientemente similares

¡inglés por abajo! — english below!

pupusas: process and product!

pork and cactus pupusas — pork boiled with whole garam masala spices (bay leaves, coriander seeds, star anise, cinnamon, and others i can't remember), black pepper, cumin, and salt until water evaporated and then shredded and fried; cactus; queso oaxaca all in masa harina shell

chickpea refried beans and cheese pupusas — "refried" chickpeas with jalapeños, garlic, and queso cotija; queso oaxaca all in masa harina shell

salvadoran red salsa — cherry heirloom tomatoes (few from my mom's garden and others leftover from when i made steak dinner salad), roma tomato, jalapeño all boiled, blended, and cooked again

served with radish kimchi, sweet pickled radish, and green avocado salsa

i didn't have pinto beans and i've had chickpeas in my pantry for forever so i made the refried beans using those. i also didn't have curtido which is normally served with pupusas, i didn't like the ones they had at the store, nor did i want to make it so i used kimchi since it was similar enough

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theersatzcowboy · 7 months

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Mississippi Masala (1991)

Two of the Hottest People You’ve Ever Seen fall in love — despite the protestations of their families and the cultural differences that divide them —against the backdrop of the dreary Deep South in Mira Nari’s sexy, undeniable romantic dramedy.

Director: Mira Nair

Cinematographer: Edward Lachman

Production Designer: Mitch Epstein

Costume Designers: Ellen Lutter and Susan Lyall

Starring: Sarita Choudhury, Denzel Washington, Roshan Seth, Sharmila Tagore, Charles S. Dutton, Joe Seneca, Ranjit Chowdhry, Mohan Gokhale, Natalie Oliver-Atherton, Sahira Nair, and Konga Mbadu.

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rosellerivers19 · 2 months

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You ship the two dudes from RRR so you watched more Tollywood movies to see if there was anymore Fruity love stories but were disappointed finding out Tollywood actively stays always from Gay. Don’t worry I got you

So after Western audiences and he’ll even some brown people watched RRR They began to heavily ship Ram and Bheem.

I mean I get it two dudes back in like the 19th century India on rival sides of an internalized War becoming friends by chance and giving up their believes for said friendship to save said person from their ultimate demise while looking incredibly badass while doing it definitely gives some signals.

Sorry to disappoint though Rajamouli actually denied making Ram and Bheem canonly fruity and established hetero love stories for them due to the fact Most of Tollywood has little to never actively shown fruity characters sometimes making fun of them (transgenders we’re usually used to highlight ‘bad’ beauty in musical numbers dancing around the hero only to accentuate the beauty of the heroine). So for his own protection and to make sure RRR wouldn't flop Rajamouli forced Ram and Bheem to have Jenny and Sita as love interests kinda like the meme 'born to repost, forced to private'.

Some movies in Tollywood don’t actively hate on it though and yes use it as a laughing gag but then again Westerners often use the expression “Yes Queen” and that’s what I’d typically reference these gags to.

However I was rewatching some movies of a Tollywood actor named Ram Pothineni whose movies I grew up watching and still watch. One of my favorites is “Endukante Premanta” because it’s a reincarnation love story and I love reincarnation love stories plus it takes place on Paris something I realized years later.

Anyway so Ram Pothineni in 2013 starred in a movie named “Masala” along with another Popular actor from more older times like early 2000s and a bit before his name is Venkatesh Dagguabti.

So basically the movie itself is average you’d get it more if you were brought up in Tollywood Cinema like me.

The basic plot line is there’s the Muslim guy named Rehman who wants to get his sister married as his brotherly duty towards her however the face problems in a court case where their house is seized so their uncle transfers them to the village where their uncle lives and helps Rehman find work.

When Rehman arrives at this village an incident occurs where a little boy was climbing a stone gate to a building to get his Kite and accidentally falls on the other side of the Gate into the water. Past the Gate is a Temple that is closed off due to Legal Problems. Seeing the boy is drowning in the water Rehman smashed the lock to the gate and baits the door open diving into the water saving the boy. He gets in trouble with a few of the residents who are mad at him for breaking the gate open since the Temple being closed was a major issue in the village. However Balaram a very respected figure in the village intervenes supporting Rehman for his efforts in saving the kid Balaram was actually involved with the Temple closing incident with the Antagonist of the film his cousin who is intent on marrying Balaram’s sister which Balaram dislikes. After this incident Balaram decides to take the temple into his custody again thanks to Rehman’s effort with the support of the village people.

A thing you should know about Balaram is that he doesn’t tolerate Lies at all he’s a very good man helping everyone in the village at their time of need but no matter how big or small the lie is he will punish the other party for their lie. When Balaram asks Rehman for his name Rehman’s friend Siri lies telling him that it’s Ram a traditional Hindu name fearing that if the village people were to find out that it was because of Rehman a Muslim guy the Hindu temple reopened there would be problems since Islam and Hinduism are opposing faiths and even though they can tolerate the other faiths some people might not feel that way since it still is a sensitive topic.

Because of that one lie Rehman is forced to enter a rabbit hole of lies hiding his Muslim identity pretending his mother who died when he was young is still alive and that he’s a singing teacher in order to make sure Balaram won’t get suspicious of his lying.

Now the main point is Rehman in this movie for one of his lies is forced to pretend he has a younger Muslim stepbrother that looks just like him because Balaram’s advisor and him saw Rehman at a Mosque. Rehman’s fake younger brother character who he acts is a dancer by profession and is gay. Yep that’s the laughing gag.

However in the movie Rehman’s fruity character in my opinion isn’t really disrespectful at All There’s not really any homophobia to the character and he acts like any fruity man you’d see on TikTok with “Slay Queen” and “Yes Girly Pop” which is kinda translated into Telugu. He acts very fruity in his role which is like he’s supposed to because his Make believe younger brother is fruity. Rehman has Balaram’s men (his workers) actively questioning their sexuality with Rehman’s provacative actions in the movie. Sure Rehman is only pretending and hits them when they get too close and the workers take no for an answer (another victory if you see the earlier Telugu films at the time). Balaram hires fake Gay Rehman as a dance teacher for his younger sister since he doesn’t trust normal men around her since his cousin wants to marry her and has tried kidnapping her on multiple occasions. Balaram trusts ‘Rehman’ since he’s Gay though.

The actual Rehman ends up with the heroine in this case Balaram’s sister Meenakshi at the end of the movie revaluing his lies and being forgives but I fully believe Rehman was Bi in this movie. How he acted even when he wasn’t playing his fake character of his younger Gay brother was kind of fruity his voice alone will sometimes give you like James Charles kinda voice if you get what I mean.

I mean it’s not perfect in representation it’s still a Tollywood movie from the 2010s too but it is really progressive compared to the other movies and I found Tehman’s character when he was acting fruity or just pretending to be Ram or just his normal self was really funny.

see if you want to see another possibility of LGBTQ in Tollywood cinema you can watch This. I’m pretty sure you can watch the subtitle version on Einthusan.

#tollywood #ram pothineni #indian cinema #lgbtq community #indian lgbt #Masala Telugu movie #RRR #movie recommendation

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