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Post by gatsby matthews on Jan 23, 2013 11:56:58 GMT -8
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 450px; background-color: #DFEFF0; border: 1px dashed #61A7B9, bTable][atrb=cellSpacing,20,true] i won't let this build up inside of me i won't let this build up inside of me | | [atrb=style, font-family: Tahoma; word-spacing: 1px; text-align: justify; background: #8BC3C7; border: 1px dashed #9abccd; color: 2f405e] After a long day of signings, sound checks and stage presence, Gatsby felt that he was due for a night out. He couldn’t remember the last time he went out drinking – it had to be weeks, if not months! Gatsby wasn’t a huge drinker any more. He’d had some trouble with his drinking in his teens, it had almost taken over his life but we won’t go into that. Years of practicing saying “no” had paid off for Gatsby; he was now capable of getting mildly drunk and enjoying himself.
Typically, you would usually find Gatsby chain smoking cigarettes and nursing a Pepsi Max. Tonight, however, Gatsby was drunk. He was full on, stumbling, shouting his words drunk. He hadn’t been this drunk in half a decade! His companions were a little unnerved, the dedicated driver they knew was not presence tonight and filling in for him was one of the most ridiculous people they had met.
His strawberry blonde hair was a mess; neatly cropped short at the sides but the length on top had managed to fall forward onto his face and into his eyes instead of being slicked back. He had pushed the sleeves of his black hoody past his elbows so everyone could see the tattoos on his forearms and his jeans were soaked in alcohol and covered in cigarette burns – it was little wonder he hadn’t caught fire!
Gatsby had spent most of the night dancing with girls, many of whom recognised him and asked for pictures that he purposely blurred or pulled funny faces in. Usually, Gatsby had all the patience in the world for pictures and meeting fans but tonight he was only looking to hook up with someone, and since his usually charming methods weren’t accessible by his drunk brain at the moment, he was opting for the shouting compliments method. He had had no luck so far.
It was nearly midnight and Gatsby found himself outside in the light drizzle. He had a triple vodka Red Bull in one hand and he was desperately with all his might trying to light the cigarette that was dangling between his lips. A frown was firmly occupying his forehead as he tried to focus his eyes to work out what exactly the problem was.
Shaking his head and turning to look around, splashing alcohol and energy drinks all over his hand as he went, Gatsby spotted the outline of a woman and approached her clumsily. Holding out his lighter, he demanded, “I need you to light me up.” And leant forward, cigarette between his lips and eyes closed, waiting to be lit, burnt or slapped.
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Post by MARILYN KNIGHT on Jan 23, 2013 12:50:57 GMT -8
[newclass=.canon]height: 242px; width: 350px;[/newclass] [newclass=.canonh] background-color: #ffffff; padding: 5px; opacity: 0; height: 232px; width: 340px; -webkit-transition: 2s ease; -moz-transition: 2s ease; -o-transition: 2s ease; text-align:center;[/newclass] [newclass=.canonh:hover] opacity: 0.7; -webkit-transition: 2s ease; -moz-transition: 2s ease; -o-transition: 2s ease; [/newclass] [newclass=.canonname]width: 480px; height: 0px; background-color: #78b3dc; font-family: open sans condensed; text-transform: uppercase; font-size: 30px; letter-spacing: 2px;[/newclass] [newclass=.canoninfo]font-family: wire one; letter-spacing: 0px; font-size: 30px; margin-top: -5px; padding-top: 70px;[/newclass] [newclass=.canonlyrics]font-family:calibri; letter-spacing: 1px; font-size: 12px; font-style: italic; text-align: justify; padding-left: 80px; padding-right: 80px; [/newclass] YOU'RE FEEDING THE WOLVES . ugh. you don't understand how much i love your gif. lol It was about damn time that she got herself all dolled up and ready to go out on a bringe of partying and drinking. Having been on tour for almost a month now, it was hard for her to find the time to go out and have - what she called - a good time. Putting on her tightest little black dress and tallest, most badass heels, she looked at herself over in the mirror. All of men on tour seemed to have dried up around her and she needed some fresh meat. Maybe a nice boy from texas would show her a good time just long enough for her to get bored and be able to sneak out, undetected. Oh yes, Marilyn was definitely a 'fuck 'em and chuck 'em' kind of girl, and she took pride in it. It made her feel slightly empowered, knowing that she could do that to any man and they would be happy about it all by the end of it. Of course, she did get some flack for it, having the men's girlfriends or wives call her a slut, whore or homewrecker. Did she care? Not really. Was she going to keep doing it regardless? Abso-fuckin'-lutely.
Fluffing her hair a bit, she gave herself a kiss and wink in the mirror before she grabbed a cute black jacket and her clutch. It was all she needed to get drunk and have a way to get home. Hailing a taxi, she jogged over to it as fast as she could in her heels, more than capable of probably being able to run the hundred meter dash in them. Climbing into the cab, she closed the door and looked at the bad, demanding him to take her to the nearest, hottest club. Luckily for her, the taxi driver was more than willing to take her to the hottest night club in the city, he was probably also excited about the mere fact that he had a hot, smokin' chick in the back of his cab, rather than a fat, slobbery drunk.
as she sat in the cab, she started texting the girls of whom she would be meeting there. nevada enders was an obvious one, along with a few other girls that they had somehow befriended on the tour. sure enough, all of them stated that they were going to be late, which wasn't uncommon, marilyn was a little late herself, so she simply told them to 'hurry the fuck up'.
In no time, the cab parked out front of the club and, even from inside the cab, she could hear the bass pumping from within. The sound got her so excited - it definitely had been too long since she had lived it up a little. Handing the taxi his fare, she gave him a small wave and climbed out, immediately seeing many men for the picking. A smirked crossed her face as she walked towards the club, immediately being asked for I.D and showing her driver's license. Quickly paying the entry fee, she strutted over to the coat check out, already seeing the eyes being set upon her; sometimes she didn't know whether it was because of the many tattoos that covered her body, or if it was just the fact that she was an attractive girl - maybe it was both. Giving the girls at the coat check enough money to put her coat away, she turned around and headed back to the bar, prepared to start her night properly.
once at the bar, she asked for a beer, already knowing that eventually she would be having shots being thrown her way. howeverm that all too familiar craving for a cigarette itched at the back of her throat and, before she knew it, she was outside with her beer and a cigarette in hand. taking a drag, she started to look around the area, trying to see if one of her friends were possibly showing up. though, just as she was about to turn around, she heard a voice behind her, demanding her to light his cigarette. turning to face the man in front of her, she immediately went on the defensive, "how about you get fucked?" she snarled before she realized just who was standing before her. gatsby matthews (or wyatt, as marilyn liked ot call hiim). she had never seen him intoxicated before and it slightly shocked her, "wyatt? what the fuck!" se stated before she laughed softly, "you're fucking drunk!" she added before she pulled out her lighter, "here baby cakes, i'll light this for you." flicking her thumb, she lit his cigarette before eying him up and down, "i've never seen you like this before..." |
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Post by gatsby matthews on Jan 23, 2013 13:45:19 GMT -8
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 450px; background-color: #DFEFF0; border: 1px dashed #61A7B9, bTable][atrb=cellSpacing,20,true] i won't let this build up inside of me i won't let this build up inside of me | | [atrb=style, font-family: Tahoma; word-spacing: 1px; text-align: justify; background: #8BC3C7; border: 1px dashed #9abccd; color: 2f405e] “How about you get fucked?” The female he had proffered exclaimed. Gatsby shrugged his shoulders and went to turn in a different direction. The rejection didn’t upset him – he’d expected it, really. He was being quite rude and making assumptions that this young female would bow to his misogynistic will. “Not a problem, ma’am.” He said in the cockney accent he had been practising for years, biting the cigarette between his molars, and stopped mid-turn when he identified the familiar voice.
“Wyatt? What the fuck!” The unmistakeable Marilyn exclaimed. Gatsby enjoyed that she called him Wyatt, not many people knew his middle name; it was like their secret. It made him happy to think that everyone else was out there making up reasons she called him Wyatt when it was simple. “You’re the fuck, baby.” He drawled. He heard her laughing and he grinned a lazy drunken grin, his cigarette almost falling from his mouth.
“You’re fucking drunk!” She seemed incredulous. It certainly was incredulous to most, Gatsby Matthews drunk as a skunk in front of the general public. It used to be so common. At this moment in time he was happy drunk, pleased that he was still in good form and still having fun. “Why aren’t you drunk?” He demanded.
She lit his cigarette for him and he took a long, appreciative draw of the cigarette and he smiled in relief. “Thank you!” He exclaimed, pulling her into a hug with the arm that was holding his vodka. He hoped that he wasn’t spilling his drink all down her back and burning her with his cigarettes.
“I’ve never seen you like this before.” She told him. He smiled slightly, of course not, no one ever saw him like this before, no one saw him vulnerable. “Oh gosh, are you going to take advantage of me?” He teased her, he still hadn’t taken the cigarette out of his mouth and he was simply talking out of the corner of his mouth while sucking in more and more smoke and nicotine.
Gatsby went to put his drink in his mouth and dropped the cigarette straight onto the floor, he groaned and rolled his eyes. He leant towards Marilyn, trying his best to focus on her face and mumbled, “We should go inside and get you drunk.” He gave her a cheeky peck on the lips, before grabbing her hand in his right and putting his drink to his lips and dragging her inside.
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Post by MARILYN KNIGHT on Jan 23, 2013 14:02:15 GMT -8
[newclass=.canon]height: 242px; width: 350px;[/newclass] [newclass=.canonh] background-color: #ffffff; padding: 5px; opacity: 0; height: 232px; width: 340px; -webkit-transition: 2s ease; -moz-transition: 2s ease; -o-transition: 2s ease; text-align:center;[/newclass] [newclass=.canonh:hover] opacity: 0.7; -webkit-transition: 2s ease; -moz-transition: 2s ease; -o-transition: 2s ease; [/newclass] [newclass=.canonname]width: 480px; height: 0px; background-color: #78b3dc; font-family: open sans condensed; text-transform: uppercase; font-size: 30px; letter-spacing: 2px;[/newclass] [newclass=.canoninfo]font-family: wire one; letter-spacing: 0px; font-size: 30px; margin-top: -5px; padding-top: 70px;[/newclass] [newclass=.canonlyrics]font-family:calibri; letter-spacing: 1px; font-size: 12px; font-style: italic; text-align: justify; padding-left: 80px; padding-right: 80px; [/newclass] YOU'RE FEEDING THE WOLVES . ugh. you don't understand how much i love your gif. lol seeing gatsby in such a drunken state really amused marilyn, always finding him ridiculous and hilarious, now it was just multiplied. he seemed to be a happy and cheery drunk, which was always what marilyn preferred, seeing as she knew that she could be quite the opposite while drunk. it all depended on who she surrounded herself with so, she could confidently say that she could get drunk around her opposite partner and stay quite content. he knew how to make her laugh, which was rare when it came to men in her life, and so far he seemed to be the only one who was at least a tiny bit interested in her well being. well, excluding now.
seeing him turn back around to face her, she couldn't help but let a smile form on her lips, it was a cheeky one, if only because she was amused by his drunken words. when she lit his cigarette, she felt him pull her closer and she slightly pushed away, if only because he was being a bit too sloppy for her liking, "watch it!" she scolded him as she felt a little bit of vodka splash down her back, "you're spilling on me." she added, her voice still firm before he asked her why she wasn't drunk, "i'm working on it." she stated, showing her beer to him before she took a sip, "but i think you're drunk enough for the both of us." she explained, looking him up and down before shaking her head slightly, "how long have you been here, cowboy?"
his question caused a smirk to form on her lips, 'well i don't know, is this you being drunk going to effect your performance? because, if so, i won't be." she stated before she watched him drop his cigarette on the ground, "how much have you had to drink?" she questioned before raising an eyebrow at him. by what marilyn could tell, his friends were being fairly generous when it came to giving him shots. when he leaned forward and towards her, she could smell the liquor all over his breath and marilyn almost wanted to push him away. instead, she let him kiss her, returning the kiss before feeling him start to drag her inside, "wyatt, calm down! i have a drink already." she stated before pulling on his arm to make him stop. of course, marilyn wasn't opposed to getting wasted tonight, but something inside of her made her feel like she needed to take care of wyatt for the night, just like he had for her all too many times to count. |
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Post by gatsby matthews on Jan 23, 2013 15:23:31 GMT -8
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 450px; background-color: #DFEFF0; border: 1px dashed #61A7B9, bTable][atrb=cellSpacing,20,true] i won't let this build up inside of me i won't let this build up inside of me | | [atrb=style, font-family: Tahoma; word-spacing: 1px; text-align: justify; background: #8BC3C7; border: 1px dashed #9abccd; color: 2f405e] “How long have you been here, cowboy?” That was a difficult question; Gatsby was not entirely sure how long he had been there for. He remembered leaving the tour at maybe seven or eight pm. He smiled at her vacantly and wondered about it for a moment, “I have –” He started, then frowned, “Maybe like four or five hours, I’m not very, very sure.” He looked up at the sky as he spoke, lifted the drink to his mouth and drinking down many glugs of vodka Red Bull before adding, “I’m sure enough to say that I am sure, however.”
Thankfully the loudness of his drunkenness had stopped now that he was outside, but he supposed that was the noise outside was simply dull thudding. He smiled at her question and he looked at her long and hard in what he hoped was a saucy way, “I’ve heard it can enhance performance, what with less inhibitions and all that.” He winked at her and drank some more of his vodka. He held it up and looked at her earnestly, “To Marilyn, for being sexy!” He toasted her, draining his glass and throwing it to the floor with a loud smash.
Gatsby grinned, proud of himself, he used to adore the sound of smashing glass, it was one of his absolute favourite sounds. He used to smash glass all the time, but it began to bother him clearing it up. “How much have you had to drink?” Marilyn asked him. Gatsby laughed and looked at the broken glass, “That was my drink number twenty or so. I cannot be sure!” He grinned at her and then looked back at towards the club.
“Calm down! I have a drink already.” Gatsby rolled his eyes and laughed, he leaned forward and muttered, “How are you going to keep up with me if you’re only drinking beer?!” He demanded, laughing at her. He wondered about snatching the beer out of her hand but he thought better of it. “What brings you here today? I certainly didn’t demand you to be here! Not that I’m complaining that you are here, or whatever. Thanks.” He trailed off, frowning, unsure of what he had been trying to say to her.
Gatsby leant forward; hoping to steal another kiss, then forgot what he was doing, withdrew and lit another cigarette – with ease this time, without the impediment of a drink in his hand. He looked around the place and exhaled heavily. This was the first time in the night that he hadn’t immediately followed up a drink with another drink and he felt – stupidly – like he was already sobering up, “Do you wanna go and get a burger or something?” He mumbled at her, squinting his eyes and shaking his head from side to side, uncertain of whether that was something he really wanted or not.
| [atrb=style, font-family: Tahoma; word-spacing: 1px; text-align: justify; background: #8BC3C7; border: 1px dashed #9abccd; color: 2f405e]credits: jawn at the garbage lot for tutorial. tags: marilyn. word count: four hundred and seventy nine. comments: meow. |
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Post by MARILYN KNIGHT on Jan 23, 2013 15:39:21 GMT -8
[newclass=.canon]height: 242px; width: 350px;[/newclass] [newclass=.canonh] background-color: #ffffff; padding: 5px; opacity: 0; height: 232px; width: 340px; -webkit-transition: 2s ease; -moz-transition: 2s ease; -o-transition: 2s ease; text-align:center;[/newclass] [newclass=.canonh:hover] opacity: 0.7; -webkit-transition: 2s ease; -moz-transition: 2s ease; -o-transition: 2s ease; [/newclass] [newclass=.canonname]width: 480px; height: 0px; background-color: #78b3dc; font-family: open sans condensed; text-transform: uppercase; font-size: 30px; letter-spacing: 2px; font-color: ffffff;[/newclass] [newclass=.canoninfo]font-family: wire one; letter-spacing: 0px; font-size: 30px; margin-top: -5px; padding-top: 70px;[/newclass] [newclass=.canonlyrics]font-family:calibri; letter-spacing: 1px; font-size: 12px; font-style: italic; text-align: justify; padding-left: 80px; padding-right: 80px; [/newclass] YOU'RE FEEDING THE WOLVES . ugh. you don't understand how much i love your gif. lol througout all of her years of drinking and partying, she had never seen someone act like gatsby was at this point. he seemed almost ADD about things as well as completely out of control; it was hilarious but at the same time somewhat concerning. how had his friends left him unattentded? knowing the man in front of her, he would never let one of his friends become unattended, if they were as drunk as he was at this point in the night. especially after four or five hours of drinking. marilyn looked at him for a moment before she raised an eyebrow towards him, "and what is it you're sure of, exactly?" she asked, wrapping an am around his neck before she took a sip of her own drink, which was pretty much finished anyways.
a smirk formed on her lips before she cupped the back of his neck, "i guesss i'll just have to find out for myself then, won't i?" she asked before she ran her hand down to rest on his chest. when he made a toast to her being sexy, she was obviously flattered, but was startled by him throwing his glass onto the ground. gasping slightly, she took a step back and looked down at the smashed glass on the ground, "what the fuck!" she shouted before looking back up towards the man who had just thrown the glass on the ground, "maybe we should go back inside." she explained, trying to get him to calm down, even though she knew he had much more access to alcohol inside the club, rather than outside.
"i'll catch up, you just need to sober up a bit first, because at this point, i don't think you could find a hole to save your life." she stated before finishing her beer and setting it on top of a trash bin, "even if you did demand me here, i would show up just for my own amusement. i'm supposed to be meeting nevada." she told him, trying to keep his mind on track, but it didn't seem to be working, seeing as his next question made her raise an eyebrow to him once more, "uhm, no. i want to go inside and get drunk." she explained before smirking at him, "but i suppose a burger would do you some good." she explained, watching him light his cigarette with complete ease, "or we could jus skip all of this bullshit, find an ally and fuck." |
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Post by gatsby matthews on Jan 23, 2013 18:18:10 GMT -8
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 450px; background-color: #DFEFF0; border: 1px dashed #61A7B9, bTable][atrb=cellSpacing,20,true] i won't let this build up inside of me i won't let this build up inside of me | | [atrb=style, font-family: Tahoma; word-spacing: 1px; text-align: justify; background: #8BC3C7; border: 1px dashed #9abccd; color: 2f405e] Marilyn wrapped a comforting arm around Gatsby neck and he grinned, she was being affectionate towards him, what more could he really ask for? He felt like a million dollars. She must like him, no one is casually affectionate when they don’t like someone – right? Gatsby had a feeling that he was wrong. He had a feeling that girls flirted whenever they saw fit, regardless of the consequences. “I’m sure of myself…” Gatsby replied in a tone that suggested the exact opposite. He frowned at his shoes and looked at the lit cigarette in his hand with confusion. He took a long hard draw and smiled to himself and then directly at her
“I guess I’ll just have to find out for myself then, won’t I?” Marilyn demanded, Gatsby snuggled up close to her as she cupped the back of his neck and ran her head down her chest. He was pleased to be making a toast to her sexiness instead of concentrating on what he was feeling in various parts of his body. He glanced over at her, feeling the warmth of her slender, scantily clad body and wondering what she was thinking about – what she thought of him. She was startled when he threw a glass on the ground, he hoped it hadn’t cut her feet or legs but it didn’t occur to him to ask. She suggested that they go inside but quickly moved on in the conversation before he had a chance to enthusiastically agree.
“I don’t think you could find a hole to save your life!” She accused him. Gatsby chortled with laughter and took a draw of his cigarette, one hand resting on her waist, pulling her closer to him, he grinned. She explained that she was going to meet Nevada. He rolled his eyes, “Who needs friends when you have a hunk like me?!” He asked incredulously, pulling away from her and gesturing to his hot body. He worked pretty hard to stay in shape and look good and he liked it when people appreciated it, either in person or in magazines.
“I want to go inside and get drunk!” She exclaimed, Gatsby took another draw of his cigarette and blew it into the air, “Let’s get fucking drunk then!” He explained. “I suppose a burger would do you some good.” She noted. Gatsby rolled his eyes, “I’m not even hungry anymore.” He lied, realising he hadn’t eaten since the afternoon. “We could just skip all of this bullshit, find an alley and fuck.” She suggested.
Gatsby cocked an eyebrow, finished his cigarette and threw it to the ground. He advanced on her quickly and suddenly his hands were on her body and his lips were on her mouth, trailing down to her neck and her collarbone. After a few moments of frenzied kissing he leant back, unsticking his body from hers, raising an eyebrow and whispering, “Drinks or alley?”
| [atrb=style, font-family: Tahoma; word-spacing: 1px; text-align: justify; background: #8BC3C7; border: 1px dashed #9abccd; color: 2f405e]credits: jawn at the garbage lot for tutorial. tags: marilyn. word count: four hundred and eight seven. comments: does being drunk make me a better writer?? |
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Post by MARILYN KNIGHT on Jan 23, 2013 18:49:15 GMT -8
[newclass=.canon]height: 242px; width: 350px;[/newclass] [newclass=.canonh] background-color: #ffffff; padding: 5px; opacity: 0; height: 232px; width: 340px; -webkit-transition: 2s ease; -moz-transition: 2s ease; -o-transition: 2s ease; text-align:center;[/newclass] [newclass=.canonh:hover] opacity: 0.7; -webkit-transition: 2s ease; -moz-transition: 2s ease; -o-transition: 2s ease; [/newclass] [newclass=.canonname]width: 480px; height: 0px; background-color: #78b3dc; font-family: open sans condensed; text-transform: uppercase; font-size: 30px; letter-spacing: 2px; font-color: ffffff;[/newclass] [newclass=.canoninfo]font-family: wire one; letter-spacing: 0px; font-size: 30px; margin-top: -5px; padding-top: 70px;[/newclass] [newclass=.canonlyrics]font-family:calibri; letter-spacing: 1px; font-size: 12px; font-style: italic; text-align: justify; padding-left: 80px; padding-right: 80px; [/newclass] YOU'RE FEEDING THE WOLVES . ugh. you don't understand how much i love your gif. lol known around the tour scene as the biggest slut in the business, marilyn never let anything really bother her. if for once moment, she let someone's comment bother her, she knew that it would all come crashing down; her whole persona would be ruined and everyone would know just how weak and vulnerable she truly was. there was only one person who had ever seen her cry, only one person who had ever seen her at her most vulnerable and that was her best friend. they had known each other since childhood and even now, they were both so close. marilyn counted her blessings when it came down to her and her best friend; their friendship was unlike any that she had ever really witnessed - they just clicked.
and as much as marilyn hated to admit it, so did her odd relationship with the man in front of her. whenever they were together, marilyn felt genuinely happy; he made her smile and that was more than what most men could say. sure they pleased her and made her feel good, but not in the same way that gatsby seemed to. the feeling seemed to be mutual, feeling him slightly snuggle up to her as she ran her hand down to his chest. but then the moment was broken by him smashing his bottle against the ground in a fit of excitement and drunken haze.
when the brunette mentioned nevada, she couldn't help but laugh at his response; as much as she wanted to agree with him, she knew how much friendship meant and it certainly meant more than a good fuck - if that was even possible. smirking at him, she placed her hands on her hips and reached out, grabbing his cigarette and taking a big drag herself before handing it back to him with a smirk on her face, "oh you aren't'? i still think you need o sober up at least a little bit." she stated before running a hand through her long, brown hair and pushing it over to one shoulder, "because i don't want you throwing up on me or something..." she added before she suggested them going in the alley way and fucking.
before she knew it, they were locked in a kiss, marilyn inhaling a gasp before she wrapped her arms around his neck. she taste the liquor on his tongue as they battled against one another, her body pressing hard against his before she felt him pull away from her. as drunk as he was, his mind seemed to sober up when his blood started to flow somewhere else. looking at him in the eyes, she smirked and pulled away, simply turning and walking back towards the club. there would be time for adventures in the alley way, but she came here to get drunk and that was what she was going to do. |
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Post by gatsby matthews on Jan 23, 2013 19:10:43 GMT -8
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 450px; background-color: #DFEFF0; border: 1px dashed #61A7B9, bTable][atrb=cellSpacing,20,true] i won't let this build up inside of me i won't let this build up inside of me | | [atrb=style, font-family: Tahoma; word-spacing: 1px; text-align: justify; background: #8BC3C7; border: 1px dashed #9abccd; color: 2f405e] Marilyn kept imploring that Gatsby would sober up a little. Not having a drink in his hand made Gatsby feel like he was sober – which he supposed was the whole problem with his drinking in the first place. Since Gatsby had started getting drunk when he was maybe fourteen years old, he hadn’t believed that he was drunk until he woke up the next morning with no recollection of what had happened the previous night. Gatsby simply didn’t have that moment of realisation of “oh shit, I’m pretty drunk, maybe I should stop” the way that everyone else had. He would drink himself into oblivion if he had the chance.
“I think that you are plenty sober for the both of us, you bore!” He said cheekily, he stuck his tongue out at her and wrapped an arm around her neck again. She let him know that she definitely did not want him to be sick on her. He smirked at her, “Vomit free since 2003!” He informed her proudly, this was a bit of a lie, Gatsby had been sick in 2009 due to a dodgy Chinese take away and fifteen beers, but he refused to count it, citing food poisoning from the Chinese as the culprit for his illness and not the alcohol.
After the kiss, Marilyn gave Gatsby the most wicked look that made him feel as if the alley way was a real possibility and they were going to leave this place immediately. But she started to the club, disappointing him slightly. Gatsby watched her walk away for a moment, noticing all the guys who were looking at her – coveting her body. He grinned to himself, knowing that she liked him.
Gatsby ran up behind her, slipped an arm around her waist and glancing over his shoulders at all the guys who were looking at them walking away with envy. Gatsby kissed her neck, drunkenly, just to assert his authority in the eyes of these other mans. He steered her towards the bar and demanded two triple vodka Red Bulls, “I’m going to get you so drunk you can’t stand.” Gatsby growled into her ear, kissing her earlobe and her neck as they waited for their drinks. If Gatsby was ever going to have his “I’m too drunk, now is the time to stop drinking” moment, it really should have been right at this moment. But he didn’t.
| [atrb=style, font-family: Tahoma; word-spacing: 1px; text-align: justify; background: #8BC3C7; border: 1px dashed #9abccd; color: 2f405e]credits: jawn at the garbage lot for tutorial. tags: marilyn. word count: four hundred and twp. comments: does being drunk make me a better writer?? |
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Post by MARILYN KNIGHT on Jan 23, 2013 19:30:24 GMT -8
[newclass=.canon]height: 242px; width: 350px;[/newclass] [newclass=.canonh] background-color: #ffffff; padding: 5px; opacity: 0; height: 232px; width: 340px; -webkit-transition: 2s ease; -moz-transition: 2s ease; -o-transition: 2s ease; text-align:center;[/newclass] [newclass=.canonh:hover] opacity: 0.7; -webkit-transition: 2s ease; -moz-transition: 2s ease; -o-transition: 2s ease; [/newclass] [newclass=.canonname]width: 480px; height: 0px; background-color: #78b3dc; font-family: open sans condensed; text-transform: uppercase; font-size: 30px; letter-spacing: 2px; font-color: ffffff;[/newclass] [newclass=.canoninfo]font-family: wire one; letter-spacing: 0px; font-size: 30px; margin-top: -5px; padding-top: 70px;[/newclass] [newclass=.canonlyrics]font-family:calibri; letter-spacing: 1px; font-size: 12px; font-style: italic; text-align: justify; padding-left: 80px; padding-right: 80px; [/newclass] YOU'RE FEEDING THE WOLVES . it was nothing new for marilyn to oggled by men at a club; in fact she quite enjoyed the looks she got. she knew what she looked like and how she dressed, she knew that her attire was revealing and basically an open invitation for any man who she deemed attractive enough. however, with gatsby at the club, she seemed to have lost all interest in other men, at the moment. it was almost as if, when they were together, whether it be a party or just running into one another. as much as she hated to admit it, she got severely jealous when she saw other woman pawning after gatsby, but never di she say anything if only because she could admit to herself, let alone anyone else, that she cared, "i said i'm working on it! and if you let go of me, i could be inside, drinking and doing shots." she explained, obviously teasing him. she enjoyed his hands on her skin and his lips on her own, but when marilyn wanted a drink, there was no stopping her.
once they had pulled away from the kiss, marilyn could see the hope on gatsby's face. but the brunette vixen had other things in mind, walking away from him and the opposite direction of the alley. back towards the club, she could see the eyes of a group of guys looking her up and down as if she were a piece of meat. marilyn was almost completely oblivious to it now but she soon felt gatsby's arm around her waist and his lips on her neck, asserting his dominance, "down boy." she teased before she slid her hand down his back and into his back pocket.
once they made it to the bar, she was about to order herself a shot when her male counter part decided on ordering a drink for her. who was she to object? looking up at him, she gladly took the drink and took a sip, almost cringing at the taste but managed to resist, "i hope not..." she stated before she turned to him completely and wrapped both of her arms around his neck loosely, "at least get me drunk enough to that i can still manage to stay on my knees..." she teased, coyly, before she leaned in and placed a kiss to his lips. the kiss was short but wet and as she pulled away she nipped on his bottom lip and smirked to herself, "you wanna dance, cowboy?" she asked before she gulped down the rest of her drink and put the glass onto the counter. immediately, she could feel the buzz on her head, causing her to feel a bit more light on her feet. |
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Post by gatsby matthews on Jan 24, 2013 16:11:37 GMT -8
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 450px; background-color: #DFEFF0; border: 1px dashed #61A7B9, bTable][atrb=cellSpacing,20,true] i won't let this build up inside of me i won't let this build up inside of me | | [atrb=style, font-family: Tahoma; word-spacing: 1px; text-align: justify; background: #8BC3C7; border: 1px dashed #9abccd; color: 2f405e] Gatsby trailed after her, looking at her behind in her short dress and smiling to himself, knowing that he was going to get to go home with her tonight. For reasons that were simply beyond Gatsby, Marilyn had chosen him, out of every other man on tour and every other man in the vicinity. He knew he couldn’t assume, but he could hope, that he was the only one for her now. Because she was certainly the only one for him. Since their first encounter a few weeks previously, Gatsby hadn’t even thought about another woman, not seriously anyway.
“Down boy.” She growled at him, and it had the opposite effect. Gatsby nuzzled her neck drunkenly and sighed deeply, his hot breath on her neck. Gatsby remembered that Marilyn had said something about shots and he immediately demanded the attention of the bar tender again, he had only had a couple of sips of his strongly mixed drink but he was always ready for more, “You wanted shots, didn’t you?” He shouted over the music into her ear. “Whatever the lady wants.” He shouted to the barman who rolled his eyes, having endured Gatsby too many times this evening to be patient.
“At least get me drunk enough to that I can still manage to stay on my knees…” She teased. “That seems fair, as long as you can crawl I’m happy!” He replied sassily. Gatsby winked at her and enjoyed the kiss she rewarded him with. Her arms were entirely encircling his neck and he felt so close to her, she was pressed up against him and he was enjoying it earnestly. She bit his bottom lip and he felt shivers going down his spine even though they were in a night club that was simply humid with human bodies.
“You wanna dance, cowboy?” She asked, downing her drink and Gatsby followed suit, “I’m not much of a dancer, but I like any excuse to rub up against you.” He grinned. He threw back the shots they had ordered, abandoned his glass on the counter and took her by the hand. Allowing the music to guide him, Gatsby tried his best to dance without looking like a monkey or some sort of clumsy toddler. Apart from bending his knees and head banging, Gatsby didn’t really have any dance moved. But he knew that Marilyn would be able to make up for the both of them.
| [atrb=style, font-family: Tahoma; word-spacing: 1px; text-align: justify; background: #8BC3C7; border: 1px dashed #9abccd; color: 2f405e]credits: jawn at the garbage lot for tutorial. tags: marilyn. word count: four hundred and six. comments: hooray for not being drunk! |
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Post by MARILYN KNIGHT on Jan 25, 2013 8:26:52 GMT -8
[newclass=.canon]height: 242px; width: 350px;[/newclass] [newclass=.canonh] background-color: #ffffff; padding: 5px; opacity: 0; height: 232px; width: 340px; -webkit-transition: 2s ease; -moz-transition: 2s ease; -o-transition: 2s ease; text-align:center;[/newclass] [newclass=.canonh:hover] opacity: 0.7; -webkit-transition: 2s ease; -moz-transition: 2s ease; -o-transition: 2s ease; [/newclass] [newclass=.canonname]width: 480px; height: 0px; background-color: #78b3dc; font-family: open sans condensed; text-transform: uppercase; font-size: 30px; letter-spacing: 2px; font-color: ffffff;[/newclass] [newclass=.canoninfo]font-family: wire one; letter-spacing: 0px; font-size: 30px; margin-top: -5px; padding-top: 70px;[/newclass] [newclass=.canonlyrics]font-family:calibri; letter-spacing: 1px; font-size: 12px; font-style: italic; text-align: justify; padding-left: 80px; padding-right: 80px; [/newclass] YOU'RE FEEDING THE WOLVES . the night seemed to be going just as she had planned, so far. though she hadn't planned on running into gatsby, it was a nice surprise; though he wasn't the only guy she was fucking on tour, he was definitely one she was fucking most often. feeling him nuzzle into her neck, after she had told him to calm down, she rolled her eyes and turned her head to look at him, raising an eyebrow towards him before she shook her head and looked forward, basically holding up her male counterpart. he was definitely pissed drunk and marilyn didn't know how much he was able to drink, if only because the brunette had never seen him this drunk, before. he was always the designated driver or he only got a little buzzed, not like this - falling all over himself and spilling his drinks all over everyone and himself. it was kind of annoying but marilyn figured she may as well keep an eye on him.
once they were at the bar and the vixen decided it was time to dance, she heard gastby order two more shots before she looked at him, "babe, i think you've had enough." she stated before she watched him down another shot, which was tequila. rolling her eyes, she sighed and picked up her shot, swigging it back before he started to lead her onto the dance floor. knowing that he wasn't much of a dancer, she simply dragged him to the corner of the dance floor, where there a large pillar covered in reflective tiles. holding onto the collar of his shirt, she started to back up until her back was against the pillar, a smirk forming on her face as she pushed hips against his.
hoping he got the hint, she wrapped her arms back around his neck and pulled him close to her, completely lost within the heavy beats of the music and his body up against her own. she figured it was the best way to keep him away from the bar; cupping the back of his neck, she pulled his head close and allowed their lips to mesh once more. closing her eyes, she let the kiss deepen, her hands running through his hair as she gripped it softly. she could smell all of the booze on his breath as they kissed, but it didn't bother her as much as it should have. |
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Post by gatsby matthews on Jan 29, 2013 9:03:59 GMT -8
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 450px; background-color: #DFEFF0; border: 1px dashed #61A7B9, bTable][atrb=cellSpacing,20,true] i won't let this build up inside of me i won't let this build up inside of me | | [atrb=style, font-family: Tahoma; word-spacing: 1px; text-align: justify; background: #8BC3C7; border: 1px dashed #9abccd; color: 2f405e] “You’ve had enough.” Gatsby heard for the millionth time in his life. Ever since he was a young boy, someone had always been trying to convince him that he’d had enough of something or other – enough ice cream, enough skittles, enough drink, enough drugs, enough, enough, enough! Gatsby did know if he would ever honestly feel like he had had enough. Never in his life, that he could remember anyway, had Gatsby ever thought to himself or said to someone “That’s enough.” Not once. Gatsby stopped when he had to, or when it was gone, or when someone told him to. He never stopped of his accord.
Gatsby supposed this feeling of not having enough had motivated him in his career – he could never write enough music, play enough concerts, meet enough fans, change enough people’s lives. He was insatiable. This was why Gatsby scarcely drank any more. He knew that he didn’t know when to stop and when he went out to the bar now he would bring five dollars and his car keys and he knew for a fact – an absolute fact that he could not get drunk because although one drink was not enough, he had to stop because he had no more money.
Here he was, in the centre of the biggest night club in Texas, thinking about his own limitlessness while he was supposed to be dancing with the beautiful girl who had backed herself into a corner and seemed to be loving it. Gatsby shook the thoughts from his head, summoned a wicked smile as she pushed her hips against him. She wrapped her arms around him and Gatsby circled his arms around her back, as they pressed together to the beat of the music. Gatsby almost felt like he was sobering up from alcohol and getting drunk on Marilyn – it was a strange sensation. She was entirely overwhelming his senses.
Gatsby loved it when she kissed him. Sometimes he felt a bit like a cheeky little boy because he was always just kissing her, quite often without any signs that that was something she wanted. She ran her fingers through his hair and shivers shot down his spine. Damn, this woman was good. He never wanted this moment to end, he never wanted to feel differently than he did now. But like all good things, it ended. It ended at the same time that the song finished. He looked deep into her eyes, earnestly, as if for the first time and tried to understand his feelings. “Hi.” He mumbled, feeling less drunk, more aware and a little embarrassed.
| [atrb=style, font-family: Tahoma; word-spacing: 1px; text-align: justify; background: #8BC3C7; border: 1px dashed #9abccd; color: 2f405e]credits: jawn at the garbage lot for tutorial. tags: marilyn. word count: four hundred and thirty five. comments: probably hard to reply to but i'm feeling a bit weird at the moment. uni is making me question lifeee. |
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