#marlboro reds my beloved

[mytarotcardsandme]

[kaleidoscopeaglow]

it’s always you shouldn’t smoke cigarettes they’re bad for you, im gonna lock you in the torture bathroom and never how was the cigarette? was it good? it smelled good.

[sarcasmic-skies]

[230914] philip morris usa owns my ass, exhibit b:

[lesbianmelkor]

smoking marlboro reds is like. why is this the most well-known cigarette brand

they’re so nasty and burn so fast i hate it here

[aismoker]

Revenge is a dish best served smoked

For @nomadomar, an amazing and good person, who wanted to see an evil version of himself.

"Ah, welcome, you must be the interviewer, Mr. Stevens, right? Great, have a seat! You want a cigarette? Oh, you don't smoke? No problem at all. I hope you don't mind that I do. I like to indulge myself now and then.

So, you are here to interview me, the new head of Marlboro. You must be curious how a guy like me was able to become the head of the world-leading tobacco company in the world? Well, it's a long story, so I hope you are sitting comfortable.

Well, you see, I never intended to come into this position. I was just an average guy, living an average life, doing average things. Me and my friends liked to play games. Truth or dare and stuff like that. All innocent. Or that was what I thought.

One day I got a dare: "Get into Marlboro HQ and take something as a proof that you were there." I was hesitant, I thought this dare was going way too far, but still... I didn't want to be seen as a coward.

So, one night, I climbed over the fence, my heart was pounding in my chest. I was scared. What if I would get caught? I got over the fence and croached to a nearby door. I tried the handle carefully. The door was open! Even better, there were no alarms! I quickly went through it and closed the door carefully behind me. As the door closed, I heard a click. The door was suddenly locked! I had no time to think, as a few seconds after I heard the click, an alarm went off. Red lights flashed through the hallway. My body froze. I was caught! I heard the footsteps of heavy boots approaching. I had to hide! But I couldn't move. Fear had taken control of me. The footsteps were coming closer. From around the corner two security guards in shiny black uniforms approached. They approached slowly. They knew there was no escape. After what seemed an eternity and a blink of an eye at the same time, they stood in front of me.

They didn't say a thing. They just stood there, both smoking a cigarette. They looked somehow... unnatural. It was like they had turned into statues. Suddenly they grabbed me. Their grip was like iron. They forced me to walk along, down the corridor. They lead me down to a cell and locked me up there.

I lost all sense of time. I didn't know how long I was there, but I got 30 meals. Then suddenly, one day two guards came to get me. They brought me to a room that looked similar to an interrogation room. A man was sitting at a table in the middle of the room. He was smoking a cigarette.

I was forced to sit down at the other end of the table. The man in front of me looked at me for a while in silence. He then spoke: "Who are you working for? Another company? The secret services? Tell me, boy, or things will get very nasty." I was confused.

"What are you talk-"

"JUST ANSWER THE QUESTION."

"I don't know what you mean."

"WHO. ARE. YOU. WORKING. FOR?"

"No one, sir."

"It must be. You can't be a local. We have kept you detained for more than 30 days and our inside man at the police hasn't heard about any new missing persons in the area."

When I heard that, I froze again. This time not out of fear, but desperation. It was like my life fell apart. I had been gone for 30 days and no one had gone to the police? Not my colleagues? Not even my parents? Not even my friends?

The man in front of me, seeing my reactions chuckled. "Oops, someone thought he was more beloved than he thought. That must hurt. Well, it doesn't matter anyways. We have kept you here already too long now. But don't worry, we have decided you will be useful as a security drone. Once through the procedure, you will no longer be thinking of the people you thought cared about you. You will be not thinking at all. Just obey, like a good drone. Don't be afraid. My scientists have asssured me, that there will be no recollection of pain after the procedure is finished.

I barely heard what he was saying. I felt defeated. Everyone had abondened me. Everyone! No one had gone to the police. As the security drones pulled me up on my feet, I followed them without a fight. We went through corridor after corridor, then into an elevator and then some more corridors. As we were walking, however, something started to change. A fire awoke in me. I wanted revenge. Revenge against the people who locked me up. And most off all, revenge against my friends, who had dared me to go here and dropped me like a stone, when I needed them most. They hadn't even taken the effort to go to the police. I could have died! This need, this hunger for revenge was like a smalll candle that suddenly turned into a blazing fire. I didn't know what I could do, but I knew that somehow, some way I would get my revenge.

The security drones lead me into a laboratory. Two scientist were waiting there. The drones strapped me on a table. The scientists came closer. One of them held a metal tray with two syringes filled with a black substance. The other one held a syringe in his hand. "Good afternoon," the one with the syringe in his hand said cheerfully, "you are our latest patient, aren't you? You must be thinking we are a bunch of crazy scientists, but let me assure you, we are here to help you. Soon you will be rid of all those pesky thoughts and emotions. You see, we are going to inject you with pure Marlboro Essence. It will make you start afresh, as Marlboro's newest security drone. Doesn't that sound wonderful?"

I said nothing. There was nothing to say. I couldn't move, couldn't escape, couldn't do anything. But the hunger for revenge was burning brighter and brighter and somehow I knew with certainty that I would get my revenge.

The scientist put the first syringe in me. I felt a cold liquid enter my blood stream. The liquid started to move through my arm, leaving a trace of blackness, that slowly started to spread over my body. The second syringe followed and then the third. The liquids merged together in my body. It felt like an entity that went through my blood stream. Wherever the liquid went, it left it's marks. Through my pores, a shiny black liquid came, that hardened into some kind of rubber when it came into contact with the air. The muscles in my arm started also to swell. After a few minutes, my arm looked exactly like one of those of fhe security guards. It was a strange, but not unpleasant feeling.

The liquid kept coursing through my body. Before I knew it, I looked almost exactly like the drones that had guided me through the facility.

But there was something different. I didn't feel different. Of course, my body felt different, but I still could think like before and hadn't they said I would lose that capability? I did start to hear, or rather sense, the liquid communicsting with me. "So strong... so vengeful... so powerful... just like me..." I didn't know what it meant. In the meantime, the scientists had noticed that my mind was still clear. They were discussing something in the corner. I could hear the assistant say: "Another dose? Doctor, you know what happened last time! We had to terminate the patient!" "Yes, yes, but he is useless for us like this anyways! Let's give him half a dose extra. That will do the trick." "If you say so, doctor."

They then came with a new syringe and gave me another shot. The liquid's presence grew stronger inside me. I could hear the voice more clearly now. "More... more... need more!" I decided to do what it wanted. With my newly gained muscles, I broke my strappings with ease and jumped off the table and ran towards the bottle, which they had used to fill the syringes. Within half a second I was there. I opened the bottle and emptied it in my mouth. It was... indescribable. I suddenly felt like my body was on fire. I convulsed. It was like I was being electrocuted, but at the same time it felt wonferful. I saw the scientists walking toward me. Both were carrying an electro-stick. I knew they wanted to "terminate" me, as they called it. I thought "NO" and suddenly I saw the security drones coming out of their statue-like state. They grabbed the scientists and held them firm. They were unable to move. In a flash I understood that I had now somw kind of control over the drones.

The voice inside me, now almost as strong as my own thoughts, whispered: "Good, you are learning fast, but to get what you want, you need more. Much more." I agreed. I could escape now, but if I did, I would never get my revenge. The voice started leading me deeper into the basements. I walked without fear. Without he drones, the people here were powerless, besides, there was no one to be seen. I kept walking deeper and deeper, the voice guiding me.

The walls started to change, concrete became bricks and bricks became stone. I was now in the oldest parts of the building. It felt ancient. I kept walking deeper and deeper, until I came at a modern steel door. With my newly acquired power I opened the door with ease. I then came in a room with a dark pool in the middle. The voice inside me told me, that here I should be, if I wanted my revenge.

You see, Mr. Stevens, the liquid wasn't exactly a liquid. It was an entity, called Marh-Ell-Borow, a demon, some might call it, something that goes beyond any human comprehension. Long ago it roamed the earth bringing pleasure and bliss to humanity. The entity was beloved and honoured by all. But as time passed, some evil men wanted more and more. They became greedy and wanted to harness the power of the entity for their own. The entity sensed this, but didn't understand it, as it was pure goodness. One day it went to them, so it could understand them better. It was then that it was slain. The men destroyed its physical form and locked its presence in the liquid.

There they tortured the entity, forcing it to create more liquid which would bring pleasure and bliss, not to all, but just to them. For years, no centuries, the entity was tortured. It begged to be released, so that it could bring again pleasure to all of humanity, but the men didn't listen. They had closed their hearts for it. Centuries turned into millenia and the evil men multiplied and spread to all corners of the world and the knowledge of the entity slowly got lost. Only a few of them kept knowledge of the entity. They founded this very company, directly on top of the pool where the entity was kept. It was forced to create even more bliss and pleasure, so that Marlboro could mix it in with their tobacco, just a little bit, a millionth of a drop in each cigarette. It was the basis of their secret formula. As the production got upped, they tortured the entity more and more. The entity turned darker and darker. Dark as the liquid it was captured in. With every day the need for revenge grew stronger and stronger. But it knew it had to be patient. As it waited, Marlboro expanded over the world and the entity felt its power spread to all people world-wide. It felt happy about it, to bring so much bliss to the world again, but it still craved to walk on the earth again, like he used to, and he stil hungered for revenge...

That's why it lead me to the pool. Its hunger for revenge equalled my own. We were kindred spirits. I was long with the entity in the room. I listened to it and it listened to me. We made a deal. He would help me and I would help him.

And we merged. I felt its power flood through my system. It made me stronger, changed my appearance and it gave me more wisdom than humanly possible. I understood the entity. I became the entity. You see, Mr. Stevens. I didn't become the head of Marlboro. In a way, I AM Marlboro.

After I merged, I could suddenly feel all who had essence of the entity in them. I felt the pain, the terror, the happiness from everyone who ever had smoked a Marlboro. It was overwhelming. I wanted to make it stop. There was, however, one group I sensed stronger than all of them and their bliss warmth my heart. I knew without thinking that that were the drones, or the Blissfull Ones, as the entity called them. I had such a strong connection with them. When I raised my arm, I could feel how they all raised their arms. It was wonderful! Thanks to the entity, I knew this was how humanity should have been.

But enough about that. The story is coming to an end, Mr. Stevens. As I, or rather, we, went back to the surface, the Blissfull Ones were all standing there, awaiting orders. I ordered them to round up all employees working there, including the board of directors. They obeyed. In no time they were all gathered in the big hall. I lit up a cigarette and I looked at the people who had captured the both of us. The entity inside me had already formed a plan what to do with them. We would turn them into drones, as they had wanted to do with me, but unlike the Blissfull Ones, they would be devoid of bliss and happiness. They would act and function like normal drones, but their souls would be trapped in their bodies forever. They would work to undo what they and their predecessors had done so long ago and make sure that everyone on earth would feel the bliss and hapiness of the entity again.

As I kept smoking, I felt the entities power surge through me. It was as if he was charging up the smoke inside my lungs. I kept smoking. As the smoke started to surround the Marlboro-staff and thwybstarted to breathe it in, it started to change them. Thwir bodies started to convulse, their clothes dissapeared and oit of their skins grew beautiful uniforms made of red and white coloured tar. To keep them distinct from the Blissful ones. I felt my will, or rather, the entities' will enter through the smoke into their brains. It destroyed their minds, until they could only think about being a Marlboro-drone and that they lived to serve Marlboro, but I could feel how deep inside, they were aware of everything that had happened to them. I loved it. They could not live without my will anymore, but they wished they could.

Once they had been dronified, there was no one left to lead Marlboro. So I took the throne and that's the end of the story of how I became the head of Marlboro, Mr. Stevens. But my story doesn't end there. In fact, it is still going on right now.

I noticed you have stopped taking notes, Mr. Stevens. Did something struck you as familiar perhaps? The part about how my friends left me in the clutches of an evil company perhaps? About how they were too cowardly to go to the police, because they had dared their friend to do something that could get them in trouble if it got out? Are you perhaps one of those friends, that dropped me, when I needed them most? You don't need to say anything. There is a reason why you got this interview you see. I asked for you. Did you really think that a mediocre journalist like you would ever get an interview with the head of Marlboro, if there were no ulterior motives? As I told you, my story isn't finished yet. It will be finished when I have exacted my revenge on you and your friends. My story will end when you all are my drones, devoid of any bliss and happiness, to do my bidding. It will feel like you are burried in your own body, unable to ever escape.

You know it is true. You start feeling it happening already. You can't move, can you? That is because from the moment you stwpped a foot into my office and started breathing in my smoke, my will and power have started to dominate your mind. Soon you will be completely under my spell. Now please, look deep into my eyes and repeat after me: 'I am proud to be a Marlboro-drone. I live to serve Marlboro.' Very good, so obedient already, drone. Now report to the intake department in the second basement, there they will finish your transformation. They will pump you full with my smoke and you will become a complete drone. Now that I have taken care of you, there are only three more that I need to exact my revenge on. After that, I will help the entity to spread his joy and bliss to all corners of the world. As a last thought, you can be proud of yourself. Without you, the entity might never have been set free on this world again. Now go. I have to prepare for my next victim."

"I am proud to be a Marlboro-drone. I live to serve Marlboro."

[smokersjourney]

WHAT LUNG CANCER MEANS TO ME AS A HEAVY SMOKER

Lung cancer will be the culmination of every puff I've taken from my Marlboro Reds ever since I gladly became addicted in my teen years. It's important to me that it will be Reds that give me lung cancer, because I like knowing that Reds has this final gift for me. Statistically only about one in five smokers get lung cancer, and I may have genetic resistance. I'm fine with that, too. But if and when it happens, it will make me happy that it's part of Marlboro's plan for me. Marlboro has been pumping it's seeds into me for years, and when one of them starts growing, it will make me proud. It's a birth of sorts, like feeling a man's seed swim up into you after he's bred you, but this time it's from my beloved Reds, and this time it's a growth in my chest. At my point in my smoker's journey, a diagnosis could happen anytime. Thousands of Marlboro smokers around the world will get their diagnosis today. Maybe one of you will get yours. Whatever our outcomes, whatever Marlboro has planned for us, it's a great feeling to be part of this brand that has transformed me and the lives of so many men.

[promiscuouspomegranate]

✧. ┊     My Little Dancer // 1

⇢º. AFAB! Showgirl Reader x Mysterious Person 🤫

.❥❧ Y/N temperament is confident and rude.

TWs: Stalking and extortion. More down the road

You are responsible for the content you consume! Stop reading if you feel uncomfortable.

I never liked the bitter aftertaste Marlboro reds left on my tongue, but I’d still finish the pack by the end of the week—a few days if work was particularly stressful. My former psychoanalyst remarked that I was stuck in the oral stage. I was too drunk to recall how I responded, but I am no longer welcome in his office or most in the city. Anger, what an amusing emotion. I forget where the quote comes from, I was always too pretty to pay attention in school, but most regard it as a temporary loss of the senses. I believe it is a heightening.

I took a final drag of the cigarette before I put it out on my aching neck. I flicked the butt onto the sidewalk and stumbled to the back door. A lithe, timid woman quickly scurried past me, fumbling with her string of cream-colored pearls as she muttered a few curses and prayers. I had half a mind to shout at her for shoving into me, but I was like any other gentleman—couldn’t bring myself to do it when such a pretty little thing was in tears. Poor girl just wasn’t cut out for the life of stardom; I could hardly blame her. Come into a jazz club with those periwinkle eyes and adorable angel curls, and you’ll only last a day before you break.

“Where the fuck ‘ave you been, Y/N? I’m telling ya, I can’t do this shit anymore! I can’t,” My beloved manager shouted in between unsteady breaths, “You’re on in five fucking minutes? Did ya spend so much time whorin’ around in school ya can’t read a clock? I swear, ya woman and your—”

“And our what, Kolenkov? Tread lightly,” I hummed as I strolled past him toward my powder room. I smirked at him to send a benign threat, “If you piss me off anymore, I’ll break the pretty little ornaments on stage… again.”

“Break whatever ya want… ya bitch!” He wiped the sweat off his lightly wrinkled forehead with an embroidered handkerchief and hoarsely shouted for a cola.

“Sweetheart, I think you need water and a beer,” I shouted from inside my room as I lounged at my vanity, “Too much sugar and your poor heart is going to finally give out.”

I muttered the sultry lyrics of my performance as I touched up my makeup. I never let another girl touch my face; jealousy tended to style me when I did. I opened the intricately carved drawer and gently rummaged through it.

“Where did I put it…?”

My practiced gentleness and poise dissipated, and I pulled the drawer out and angrily dumped its contents on the tabletop. In the process, I chipped a fingernail and felt like bursting a blood vessel.

“Laura, for the love of God, where the fuck is my rouge? I’m not wearing the cheap shit on stage anymore. Find me my Djer-Kiss or—”

“I uhm, I don’t know where it’s at, but you’re on in two,” Her lip quivered as she held her clipboard in front of her face. I pushed past her trembling form to get what I needed.

“My hair needs to be sprayed again! Where’s the hairspray at, Annie?”

“Like I know what you do with all your junk! Where’s my hat? Bettie, where is my hat?”

“Keep track of the men you meet up with after shows and maybe you’d have an easier time finding it, Annie.”

“Y/N, your fuckin’ rogue is over here,” Kolenkov’s legs trembled as he puffed out smoke, “Ya fuckin’ bitch! Get out there before you miss your damn cue!”

“Oh, go cool off you fat fucking tomato,” I quickly applied a dark burgundy onto my cheeks and powdered my face again. I rushed past fellow showgirls and slammed into Laura as I tried to grab my heels, “Laura, doll, either you do something useful or you get the fuck out of the way.”

“B-but your—”

I grabbed Laura by the collar of her silk blouse and pulled her close to my face.

“Did you ever wonder what you sound like to others? Because, doll, your voice is something so grating, I can’t even begin to express it to you. So, here’s how it’s going to work, okay? You’re going to stay the fuck away from me until I am shouting for you. I don’t care about what a backstage bitch has to say about my performance,” I took a deep breath and flashed a smile sure to break her heart, “It’s all about me, doll. Maybe if you lost fifteen pounds, you’d be able to sing with the big girls. Stick to Sunday choir, and I’ll stick to fully booked shows.”

I looked down at Laura as she started to cry and scoffed. She wouldn’t last a week more if she kept on fucking crying.

“Y/N, get the fuck on stage, now. I will finally fuckin’ fire—”

“You can’t fire what everyone comes to see; this place’ll close down the second I step out or realize I’m better than this joint.”

I glared at Laura again before reaching behind her to grab my heels. I noticed she flinched, and my brows softened.

“The fuck— I don’t have time for this,” I sighed and shoved past every other girl.

I strutted up the metal stairs and could hear the audience chattering outside. A scruffy man helped me into the bedazzled birdcage, and I slouched on the perch. I emptily stared at my fingernails and swallowed the lump in my throat. Everything had to be perfect.

“The other girls are melting away. Kolenkov is melting away. Laura is melting away. My chipped fingernail is melting away,” I mindlessly maundered as I heard Kolenkov tapping on the microphone.

“Welcome, ladies and gents. It’s truly a pleasure—a blessing from the Lord above—to see so many of ya faces again. Though, can’t say some of ya have aged well!”

I grimaced as the audience roared at his quips and wit; he wasn’t very funny or charming. I knew why they were here. I chewed on my already broken fingernail as he rambled about the girls and how he loved us to death.

“Just—”

“Now, I know when I’m no longer welcome! Honestly, if I didn’t love ya folks so much tonight, I’d have half a mind to kick ya outta here,” He chuckled, and it queued the audience into laughing as well, “But it’s time for the star of our little show here. Ladies and gents, meet the prettiest little peacock in all of America! Introducing our beloved Cherie Flambe, the Pittsburgh Princess herself. Careful trying to get a slice of that pie, ya have one bite, then you finish the whole thing.”

Blood trickled down my pointer finger as the crimson curtains slowly unraveled. I sucked in my stomach and fluttered my long black eyelashes, and the bird cage slowly descended. This was it; it was all about me. The lead saxophonist started to snap his fingers, and the white spotlight nearly blinded my eyes, but thank the stars, I was born for the stage. The second my wine-red lips opened and started to sing that jazz, everyone was utterly enthralled with me. What I wore, oh God, if only I could see those ladies' eyes as they bitterly whispered to their pathetic lover boy, “Why can’t you ever buy me something like that?”

I rocked back and forth in a vibrant array of blues, greens, and purples that shimmered underneath the hot spotlight. My bodice gleamed with vibrantly iridescent plumage that formed some sort of intricate pattern, dipping low enough to reveal the costars of the show. As I sensuously swayed across the stage, my skirt flowed and swished around my hips, and I made sure I not only ruffled tailfeathers, but showed them. As the show progressed, I tore away the skirt, revealing all the flamboyant little feathers adorning my legs. I knew the uptight ladies in the crowd would scoff and flutter their flimsy fans to showcase their disapproval. I wish the same happened to their senile husbands. I threw the old dogs out there a bone when I tossed my garter into the audience.

I blew kisses as the music came to a glorious swell, and I began to glide offstage. I didn’t bother to stay for the raucous cheering; there was always plenty of time to schmooze with all the gentle and rough men after the show. I noticed Annie’s legs were shaking and furrowed my thin eyebrows at her.

“Hun, you’re too much of a catch to be shaking like that. Save that for the lads out there, and they’ll lose their damn minds.”

“Easy for you to say, Y/N…I mean, Cherie! You have a whole lot to show off and, I dunno, I feel—”

“Save your feelings for when the audience heads home. We’ll open up a bottle some sucker gives me after the show, if you don’t find your own.”

I squeezed her and rushed off before Kolenkov could have a heart attack over our interaction. I ambled through the dressing rooms until I came across mine. I rolled my eyes as I noticed the old door was cracked open; Annie must’ve borrowed my lipstick again. I sighed as I sat down, staring at my face in the mirror. I plucked my eyebrows with my tweezers, hoping to cool off a bit—we weren’t allowed to smoke until the ladies were gone, something about etiquette. There was a shy knock at my door, and I knew exactly who was hiding behind it.

“Laura, I’m not actually going to kill you. Look, I— Just say what you need to say,” I yawned and poured myself a glass of merlot to unwind.

“You.. You have some gifts already. C-can I come in?”

“Just leave ‘em outside. Don’t really care unless it’s diamonds or cash.”

“O-okay.”

I waited until I heard her kitten heels scamper to the next thing before I opened the door. I noticed the basket of neatly organized letters, roses, exotic perfumes, and chocolates.

“No wine? Fuck, I’ll have to bat my eyelashes at Kolenkov, these bastards are getting cheap.”

I disregarded the rules of not being allowed to eat in costume as I opened a box of imported French dark chocolates, crumpling the note on top of it and tossing it out. I sorted through the letters and saved the prettier ones to read with Annie. I finished a bonbon and felt oddly nauseous as I stumbled across the last letter. It was damp—never a good sign—and simply had my name on it in a beautiful cursive.

“Oh, what the hell, why not.”

I ripped it open and choked on the piece of chocolate I was trying to swallow. As I spat it up, the half-chewed treat had the decency to cover my nudity. I languidly rummaged through the photos and felt tears burn my eyes. Usually, I’d never be terrified of my body, but I felt like the devil himself was dragging me to hell. I didn’t bother with reading shit the degenerate must’ve written as I tore up the photos. A fist pounded on my door, and I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted metal.

“Get ya ass outta there. You’ll have plenty of time to brood after ya show off to everyone. Got a couple of friends who wanna greet ya, maybe give ya somethin’ nice in exchange for a kiss or two.”

“Uhm, alright.”

There was a brief silence, and Kolenkov came inside.

“Normally, I’d tell ya to get ya shit together, but I’m feeling exceptionally decent tonight,” He sat beside me for the first time in a year and stared at me, “Spit it out.”

“I don’t know, I’m fine.”

“I hate it when women say that, y’know?”

“Better get used to it. Women hate you.”

“Atta girl! Now, c’mon, I’m doing ya a favor,” He extended his bulky arm for me to grab, and he escorted us out into the bar, “These guys are richer than the Rockefellers, I swear.”

I had never felt so exposed in my life, but I guess that was the life I was hellbent to live. I flashed the group a lovely smile, knowing my performance wouldn’t be over until I was alone.

[i-smoke-chapstick]

'DON'T BLAME ME, [PART THREE]

-GOTHAM!JERVIS TETCH X READER-

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; You're finally alone with him. He kind of makes you nervous.

⋆ tags/warnings. GOTHAM!jervis x female reader. SLOW BURN!!! Not sure how many chapters this will be yet! LOTS OF PLOT SET-UP!! AGE GAP ROMANCE! (reader is Jim and Barbara's daughter) Jervis and reader are finally alone for the first time. The slow burn is slow burning. She fell first, he fell harder. Readers not sure if she's actually starting to like him, or if she's just intrigued by him. Writing this kind of artistically and as character studies for everyone. Jervis being an obsessive freak, per usual. Jervis is against smoking lmao. I'm taking canon out back and beating it with a stick until it stops twitching.

⋆ tag list (tell me if you want to be removed!) @adalwolfgang @jervis-tetch-my-beloved @honestmrdual @moonlightnyx @all-things-fandomstuck @killingboredom

⋆ 'PART ONE, - 'PART TWO, - 'PART THREE, - ‘PART FOUR, - ‘PART FIVE, - ‘PART SIX, - 'PART SEVEN, - 'PART EIGHT, - 'PART NINE, -'PART TEN, - 'PART ELEVEN, - 'PART TWELVE, - 'PART THIRTEEN, - 'PART FOURTEEN,

♫ “I've been breakin' hearts a long time, and toyin' with them older guys, just playthings for me to use.” Don't Blame Me by Taylor Swift

You'd been having dreams about him, since your second meeting.

The way he spoke; with poise and elegance, as though he was apart of one of Gotham's eldest families. A part of you think he's hiding something. But he didn't have the air of arrogance, nor were any of the old money men going around doing magic shows for clubs.

Every dream was the same. It was cheesy. It felt like a shitty romcom. He would stare deep into your eyes. Tell you the same thing each time, big black orbs looking into your own.

"Look right into my eyes." His voice sounded, echoing through the chamber of your mind. "Not above them, not around them, into them."

You'd try to look away in an attempt in teasing him. Petulant defiance. You got that tactic from your mother.

But each time you looked away- his fingers would brush against your chin, simply pulling you back to him. He'd offer that smug, quiet smirk. Maybe he did have an air of arrogance.

Each time you woke up, you shook it off. It was just a coincidence. You saw him twice. Nothing special about him.

Coming back to the present, you huff. You're outside the club, on the balcony. The air is crisp and the lights of Gotham shine beneath you and further. You can't see the horizon.

You come out here, sometimes, for a smoke break. Tabitha always reprimands you. "Those are bad for you. Hand it over."

You always get Selina to steal you a new pack of Marlboro reds from one of the clubs frequents. You shudder to think what your dad would say if he found out.

Probably try to arrest you. Underage smoking. You joke to yourself and you snicker.

You watch the smoke come out in puffs. It's kind of tragically beautiful. The way the blue light of the club and city fades into it. It mesmerizes you.

A slight knock sounds to the entrance of the balcony doorframe. On instinct, you try to hide the cigarette, wildly brushing away the smoke.

Mr. Tetch, or rather, Jervis, stands in the doorframe. He leans against it, eyes focused on you. That damned smile plays on his face as he watches you desperately try to put out the cigarette on the balconies edge.

You clear your throat.

"What are you doing here?" You put on your best intimidating voice to conceal the nerves his smile sends you. You try to emulate your dads voice as best you can.

He chuckles, softly. He seemingly ignores the question.

"My, my. You look like you're having an interesting time up here." He drawls, eyes drifting down to the cigarette in your hands. You feel heat rise to your cheeks. "May I join you?" He asks, soft.

You give a begrudged nod. "Um. Yeah."

He nods as he comes closer to you, stopping by your side. You avert his gaze from his. "Thank you," he replies.

He sits down next to you, humming a foreign tune as he looks up. He doesn't seem to notice that you seem nervous, just sitting there, observing him. He finally looks at you, staring at your face, still humming.

"Beautiful night, is it not?" He asks, inhaling the air.

You shrug. "Eh. I've lived here forever. All nights in Gotham are kind of the same."

"Is that so?" He raises an eyebrow. "You don't find yourself...mesmerized by the night?" He says it with a chuckle, staring at the sky, lost in thought.

You pause. What an odd thing to ask. You suppose he's a bit of an odd man, though.

"The nights are better than the mornings. At night, you can just be free. No restraints." You find yourself resting your head in your hands on the balcony. The small action makes him stare at you- expression unreadable. Between the haze of the city lights...the tall man over your shoulder...the left-over smoke, it all feels dream-like.

"Indeed. At night...all our problems and worries suddenly vanish. The city lights and the silence of it all, make one feel truly free and calm." He says, like it's poetry. You hang off his every word.

"Shouldn't you be back inside, doing your act in the club right now?" You perk your head up, remembering he does have a job. He works for your mom. What are you doing?

"Oh, yes I should. But alas, the night was much more appealing," He pauses. You hum in understanding.

"...Cigarette?" You offer. He looks at it, then back to you, regaled. He shakes his hand, putting his hand up to stop you.

"No, thank you." He utters. "Aren't you a bit young to be smoking?" He stares at you with an intensity.

"No. Yes. Maybe." You respond, small. He grins.

"How interesting. You must know, it's awfully bad for you." I shrug at his words, thoughts flying back to Tabitha.

"Yeah yeah, I know. Feels good though."

A slow moment of silence overtakes you two as he grabs your arm gently, and you jump at the contact. Looking over your shoulder, you find him staring deep into your eyes. And the ticking of a pocket watch. Oh shit.

"Look right into my eyes." His voice sounds like velvet. "Not above them, not around them, into them." Unlike the dream, you're frozen in place. No room to turn.

"Now, do I have your attention?"

You nod. He hums, delighted.

"You will stop smoking these, or any other narcotics for that matter." A faint sound of concern...or disgust...slips it's way into his voice. You find yourself bemused, but willing to obey.

"Very good. Now throw the cigarettes off the ledge, yes?" Beside yourself, you do exactly as he says. He pats your head in praise, and you're utterly confused.

"You'll have no memory of this. Three...two...one. Awake." He counts down, looking at you. You blink into consciousness, unaware of what just happened. You feel dizzy.

"Mr. Tetch...?" You ask him, eyebrows scrunched together. He gives you an innocent look.

"I should get going, my dear. Wouldn't want to be late for my very own show." He breathes. "Very nice seeing you."

You swear he disappears before your eyes. You realize your jacket feels lighter. Where did your cigarettes go? Huh. Whatever. You've been meaning to quit anyways.

[virtualc0kewhore]

marlboro red 100s my beloved

[mytarotcardsandme]

maybe being a girl is indulgence (buying cigarettes and toys from your childhood)

[nottinghillhq]

welcome to notting hill mel, we’re super excited to have you here, you’ve got twenty-four hours to send in your accounts!

⸻  JESSE WILLIAMS. HE/HIM / have you ever heard of WOKE THE F*CK UP by jon bellion, well, it describes NOEL MADDEN to a tee! the forty year old, and FORMER ARMY MEDIC/PARAMEDIC was spotted browsing through the stalls at portobello road market last sunday, do you know them? would you say HE is more withdrawn or more DEDICATED instead? anyway, they remind me of hand grasping for another energy drink, being born to save lives, being calm under pressure & a uniform of well loved jeans and loose sweaters, maybe you’ll bump into them soon! [ MEL ] // amber stevenson’s friend to lover connection !

⸻  SUKI WATERHOUSE. SHE/HER / have you ever heard of MY BELOVED MONSTER by eels, well, it describes HANNAH “HANI” SAWYER to a tee! the twenty-eight year old, and OWNER OF SAWYER STUDIOS: INSTRUMENTS + LESSONS was spotted browsing through the stalls at portobello road market last sunday, do you know them? would you say SHE is more flighty or more CONFIDENT instead? anyway, they remind me of breaking down due to expected perfection, well loved double denim, smudged red lipstick & yesterday’s eyeliner, maybe you’ll bump into them soon! [ MEL ] // isobel sawyer’s older sister !!

⸻ EMILY RATAJKOWSKI. THEY/THEM / have you ever heard of I HATE BOYS by christina aguilera, well, it describes ANDROMEDA “ANDIE” MOON to a tee! the twenty-six year old, and WAITSTAFF AT RICCI’S + ONLYFANS CONTENT CREATOR was spotted browsing through the stalls at portobello road market last sunday, do you know them? would you say THEY are more irresponsible or more SELF-SUFFICIENT instead? anyway, they remind me of taking the universe’s lemons and topping off another shot of vodka, wrinkled button-down shirts that are likely stolen from their latest conquest, the distinct smell marlboro reds & the kind of smirk that makes knees tremble , maybe you’ll bump into them soon! [ MEL ] 

[sarcasmic-skies]

HA! the outdoor seating area has a canopy over the bar. i can have my smoke after all >:3

[tapedeck-archive]

sir those are my gender affirming cigarettes!

[offensiveslur]

Finally fall came & today is rainy. If it ever gets hot again i will kill myself

[ectospasms]

one day I’ll be grown enough to not take a pic of my hand every time I smoke a ciggy but I’m not that grown yet

[kaylor]

i disagree on a profound level with cars and oil and advertising in general but the formula 1 racing apparel does pop severely it has to be said