blvdymary

[blvdymary]

Lying Is A Sin

pairing: Thomas Shelby x (OC!) Anastasia Ivanova

Summary: Can a man really avoid who he truly is for the sake of love?

Genre: Infidelity & drabble.

Word count: 650

Note: GUESS WHO'S BACK FROM DEAD!!!!!! also sorry yall i wanted to write something about my oc for once LOLL I MISSED YOU ALL SM!!!!! also had a little name change teehee

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

Thomas Shelby, a man known for having many affairs with women in the past, was now a married man. This was shocking news to everyone who lived in Birmingham. Although it seemed like he loved his wife, Elizabeth—or, as we all know her, Lizzie—a man can’t change in one night, can he? Not even Rome was built in a day, so what was the reason he had decided to change now? Well… he had a dirty secret, like everyone does.

It was 9:45 p.m. on a warm summer night at an extravagant ballroom overlooking the sea. An event hosted by the aristocrats of England was in full swing. Although Tommy wasn’t an aristocrat himself, he was invited by the host because of his reputation around the country. There he was, his wife linking arms with him, enduring a dull conversation with wealthy men from other countries. Even though he wasn’t enjoying the discussion, he was certainly enjoying the view of the duchess sitting beside one of the men.

He had caught her looking at everyone at the table. Her eyes, like the darkest pits of his twisted mind, were utterly fascinating. Needless to say, one glance from her, and anyone would be lured in as if she were a siren.

Lizzie noticed the way Thomas was looking at the duchess from across the table. She leaned in slightly, speaking in a hushed voice, as though the duchess’s gaze could somehow hear her.

“Who is that woman? She’s got those bastards wrapped around her finger.”

Tommy chuckled internally, keeping his expression neutral except for a slight smirk. He spoke in the same low tone as Lizzie.

“Well, that, my darling, is Anastasia Ivanova. I don’t know much about her other than the fact that she’s evil in her own way,” he said, his gaze fixed on the duchess’s lips.

By 11:36 p.m., the so-called “party” had reached its peak. Thomas could see drunk aristocrats dancing, laughing, or simply getting more drunk by the second. Now, he wasn’t going to pretend he was innocent—he was also quite drunk. But he could hold his liquor better than these people, that’s for sure.

As he strolled across the ballroom with a glass of whiskey in hand, he felt a strange sensation, like he was being watched. Shivers ran down his spine as he looked around for the source of his unease. He spun in place, scanning the room, until he noticed her. The grand duchess herself was staring him down with an intense gaze.

He’d be lying if he said she wasn’t attractive. The drunken state he was in only made her seem more… appealing. Before he knew it, he was walking toward her with intentions to… chat.

As he stood in front of her, he couldn’t help but notice her thin, tall frame. With each passing moment, his desire grew stronger. He smirked, staring at her as he spoke in slurred words.

“So… Miss Ivanova… why don’t we get to know each other, hmm?”

“How about we get to know each other in a more secluded area?” she replied. Her voice, like a symphony to his ears, filled his mind with wicked thoughts. Her words, though restrained, were enough to tease him to his breaking point.

He took her hand, glancing around to ensure Lizzie was nowhere nearby. He spotted her laughing like a madwoman with other aristocratic women, clearly drunk. Perfect.

Turning back to Anastasia, he looked at her with pleading eyes, as if silently saying, “Come with me, please.” She gave him a silent nod of approval with her charming smile. Without hesitation, he led her to one of the many rooms in the palace, proving, in fact, that he wasn’t a changed man—just a better liar.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

taglist: @hiraethberry @1-fuzzy-squirrels @justcallme1anangel @tejasvkris @rosierosem @meowsicles39

[blvdymary]

💗💗💗💗💖 sending love and well wishes 💗💗💗💖 and a lil ducky 🐤

tysm i love you 😭🫶🏻

[blvdymary]

Sick of these dumb bitches.

[blvdymary]

Sometimes when I can't afford to buy food I buy Vogue magazines, a can of diet coke, and some cigarettes.

They fill me for a week till I go out to drink my thoughts away for free.

[blvdymary]

“I'm wasted

Don't leave, I just need a wake-up call.” 𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

𓇼

[blvdymary]

This Jonathan fic you wrote, oh my goodness I love this fic. The master of fear himself looking at the fear and bad memories that he conjured up in the reader. and instead of his usual behaviour of analysing the subjects fear or of getting a kick out of it. Instead he sees that this is not right and this is not okay to immerse someone vulnerable in that fear and he actually chooses to be humane and to help and try to restore calm to her.

" Needless to say, you weren't expecting Crane, one of the most heartless men in Gotham, to be holding you close to his chest when you woke up. You looked up at him but he stopped you, pulling you closer to his chest as he spoke in a more soft and gentle voice. “Everything is going to be alright, it wasn't your fault.” And at that moment you knew there was good in bad people, and people were willing to listen to you. For once." Im sorry if this is tmi I hope its not but csa happened to me and this bit of your writing here hit so hard

Girl there is no tmi between me and anyone, I’m free to discuss any topic at any given time so if you ever feel like you need to talk to someone I’m here!!! Also, I’m glad you enjoyed it, to be honest, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to add this topic as the ‘trauma’ for the reader since it is something that happened to me personally too, but needless to say, I’M SO HAPPY YOU LOVED IT. 😭

Also I am so sorry you experienced something like that, no one ,and I strictly underline it, NO ONE deserves or should go through something as traumatic as that. Everyone is valid and there is no comparison between people. (some really need to understand that.) “oh mine is worse—“ Yours is valid so is mine, we should not compare traumas because it is not a competition. Please, for anyone reading this don’t forget that you are valid. 🤍

[blvdymary]

hello!! regarding this post: https://www.tumblr.com/rosiemarieyn/744392430138408960/i-dont-like-you-i-love-you?source=share, is there are a separate place/post you uploaded the story or is it just that? it's marked "2.1k(?)" words, but i'm pretty sure it falls way below that so i was just wondering if was stupid or something nfdksfdnskfn

YES OMG AT THAT TIME I WAS USING THIS ONE WEBSITE TO LIKE COUNT MY WORDS AND IT WAS COUNTING IT WRONG *sobs*

[blvdymary]

I want to support you. ^-^ Let me send a request. How about Jonathan Crane testing his toxin on patient and he actually feels bad because she has a massive panic attack when it wears off.

|| Thank you so much girlie this means so much to me. Also, I'd like to apologise since I was gone for a long time but I was having some struggles. ANYWAYS, hope you enjoy this and ilysm !!||

Piece Of My Past

pairing: Jonathan Crane x Reader

Summary: Holding trauma to yourself might not be the best idea but what were you supposed to do? They wouldn't believe you. Now here you were, in an asylum for the things that never happened by you but to you.

Genre: Angst, fluff/comfort.

Warnings: Mentions of SA.

Word count: 1k

Note: I am alive. I think.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

Ever since childhood, your parents and people around you knew something was wrong with you. At first, you were a talkative kid, but once you turned 7 you stopped talking. They tried every trick in the book to get you to open up, talk, and be happy like the other kids. Of course, you had your small circle of friends- not really, but oh well. So it wasn't a surprise to people around you when you end up in a mental asylum, Arkham, to be specific.

Walking towards a room in your straight jacket, both arms grasped tightly by security guards. They were acting as if you killed somebody! This much security for someone like you was useless, I mean, why not the guy who tried to eat their friend's arm? I swear to god, people in this city need a reality check.

The guards guided you into a small, white room with a metal table and two chairs seated across each other. What kind of psychotic shit was this? Your eyes are glued on the “restraints” as they called them, more like torture devices because what the hell is that and why is it looking like an 1890s doctor's equipment?

They sat you on the chair, putting the cuffs on your wrists and ankles to keep you in place. Why were they treating you like an object to be tossed around? So not fair. You watched as the guards left the room, leaving you to stare at the empty chair in front of you. Door, table, chair. Nothing to keep someone like you entertained.

Soon after —probably been 15 minutes, to say the least— you heard the door creaking open, revealing the oh-so Doctor Crane. Don’t get me wrong, he is a good doctor, as far as you heard, but you always thought there was something slightly off about him. Like the way, he stared deep into people’s eyes, the way he was cold as a barrel, and oh! Don’t forget that every patient he visits becomes delusional and psychotic the moment he leaves them alone with their thoughts. What is with this guy? What is he hiding?

He walked in, setting the brownish suitcase onto the table, and folded his hands on his lap. He looked like how your mom used to scold you as a child for not being expressive enough with your thoughts and feelings. His eyes stared into yours, taking you as a whole. God, why did it feel like you were in trouble or something? After a while of both of you staring at each other like two dogs, he finally spoke up with his condescending voice.

“So, I have heard you were having speech problems, and I'm here to help you, as you may know.” He put his hands on the table, still keeping his fingers interlocked to show authority. You look at him, then at his hands, and then at the suitcase. “what is that…?” you spoke silently, a bit too shy for your liking. When he realised his suitcase picked your interest, he had an idea. A not so great idea. He felt a little smirk appearing on his face before he quickly got rid of it and gazed at you. “I could show you if you want.”

“yes.” no hesitation, pure curiosity. Why would he need a suitcase to talk about your speech problem? You glued your eyes to the suitcase as he slowly opened it, not yet showing it to you. He cleared his throat, making you look up at him as he took off his glasses. Handsome, to say the least. Just as you were about to compliment his eyes, you felt some kind of gas getting sprayed onto your face, making you inhale it. You looked up at him, only to see…him.

-

Playing at the park like other kids, not yet aware of the consequences of being so pure. You didn't even notice a man approaching behind you. Feeling his gaze, you looked up, his eyes crazed but hidden behind a pair of sunglasses as he held a piece of candy towards you. “hey little girl…why don't you come with me for a while hm?” so gullible, not yet aware of how disgusting men could be. You took his hand.

-

Feeling tears streaming down your face like a waterfall, begging and screaming and crying for the pain to stop as all you could think of at that moment was your childhood. Jonathan rarely felt like this, guilty. as he heard your pleas to “get him off you” and “to let him go of you”. He stood up, looking down at your disheveled form before deciding this was enough. He grabbed another vital from the suitcase, one that he specifically made so he could use as some form of anesthesia. He opened the small bottle, spraying some onto your face as he watched you go from some kind of wild hog to a sleeping baby in minutes. He decided it would be for the best to let you rest before talking or even any word out of you.

Of course, the dreamland wasn't any peaceful as you continued to have the same past trauma repeat over and over and over again till you felt something pulling you away, the ending. Finally. You slowly felt your eyes open, pulling you away from the nightmare you just relived. You felt arms around you, was it…?

Needless to say, you weren't expecting Crane, one of the most heartless men in Gotham, to be holding you close to his chest when you woke up. You looked up at him but he stopped you, pulling you closer to his chest as he spoke in a more soft and gentle voice. “Everything is going to be alright, it wasn't your fault.” And at that moment you knew there was good in bad people, and people were willing to listen to you. For once.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

taglist: @hiraethberry @1-fuzzy-squirrels @justcallme1anangel @tejasvkris @rosierosem @meowsicles39

[blvdymary]

Update.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

Hi loves, I’ll be back to write once I get better. Take care, eat, and drink enough water!!! 🤍

[blvdymary]

Requests !!

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

Hello! Honestly I have no idea what to write most of the time unless I get inspired by something so please leave recommendations for your girl over here.

I am not the best at writing smut or anything dark, but if it's not too extreme I am willing to give it a try.

Have a good day darlings & don't forget to drink water today!!!

[blvdymary]

"Every man gets his wish" જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩

➴

[blvdymary]

"𝐈 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞," ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

♡

[blvdymary]

"𝘽𝙖𝙗𝙮, 𝙄'𝙢 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨." 𓇢𓆸

𓇢𓆸

[blvdymary]

Tore Me Apart.

pairing: Robert Fischer x Reader

Summary: Oh, to be loved the way you love.

Genre: Angst, infidelity.

Word count: 1k

Note: Sometimes you and I are the same person.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

You were married to one of the richest men in America. Robert Fischer, he was seen as a gentleman by lots and desired by others. Not you, though. This marriage was one of convenience. Arranged by both your parents, a marriage without any love is not a healthy one. You knew that very well, but of course, like the good obedient daughter you are, you had no say in this arrangement.

You kept a diary since the day you married him. It was a big and glamourous wedding, don't get me wrong—just no passion. Staring into his mesmerising eyes, no spark, no joy, no love. You didn't love him either. You didn't need someone's love to stay alive, right? Of course not.

Sleeping in separate beds, sitting at opposite sides of the dinner table, not talking. Just eating. You couldn't believe this was how you were going to live for the rest of your life. Once in a while, you guys had to make an appearance in front of the public to let people know you guys were "happy" and "perfect for each other", not knowing you'd cry yourself to sleep begging and praying to God for a loving marriage one day. You knew it wasn't going to be this one, maybe the next? Hopefully the next. That is, if you could divorce Robert and set yourself free from this agonising dream you thought would be a fairytale.

Work was, of course, a priority to both of you. You'd usually come home later—not that he cared. It was one of those days, you opened the front door to your shared penthouse, leaving your coat at the coat hanger before walking into the kitchen. Oh, you wish you didn't. There he was, with a woman you never saw before, smiling, laughing, loving her. He didn't even notice you approaching till you cleared your throat to let them know you were, indeed, home.

"Excuse me, what's going on here..?" you spoke with betrayal in your voice, even though you knew he didn't love you, you never thought he was that kind of man. A cheater.

"What are you doing here?" He said, with a stern voice. What am I doing here? You're the one who brought a strange woman into OUR house, Robert. You looked over at the woman, her short blonde hair tied into a small, messy bun. She wasn't wearing anything under, just one of Robert's shirts that he'd be on your ass all day if you dared to touch.

"Care to explain?" You glared at him with hatred in your eyes, even though your voice was betraying the sorrow you felt at that moment. He dared to roll his eyes at this situation, talking as if it was your fault, as if you were the one who cheated. "What did you expect? You know for a fact that I never loved you, Why are you so surprised?" Oh. You could've at least lied, Robert.

"But—" He didn't even let you finish your sentence before he spoke in an annoyed manner. "We should just— you know? Divorce already."

And just like that, you found yourself in the court, standing in front of your soon-to-be ex-husband. He didn't care, at all. All he wanted at this moment was to go back to the woman you caught him with. Why do they always pick the other woman..?

"What am I doing wrong? What's wrong with me? Am I unloveable? Oh, of course, I am. I can't believe I thought someone would love me with the mental state I'm in. I'm my father's daughter. I can't handle rejection. Oh, to be the center of attention. All I crave is someone to care about me once in a while. please. I'm miserable."

Your eyes dazed across the lines you wrote in your diary. No time for me, all the time in life for her.

"You slept peacefully knowing I was crying for you."

You felt your eyes water, what was wrong with you? Thinking loving a dying man would work out. You continued scribbling your thoughts, your heartaches away onto this very piece of paper.

"I always wondered how it felt like to be loved by you, knowing you only loved her and not me, broke me. By the way, I loved you wholeheartedly, I'm being serious. I wish someone loved me the same way I loved him. Oh to be cherished even in your darkest days, to be cared for is to be known. You didn't even know my birthday let alone my middle name. I was a fool to think you'd change, maybe I was the problem all along. I'll never have your love to keep, rot away in the lonely prison I created for myself."

Alone, again.

You threw the diary across the room, plopping your face into the soft pillow. Maybe this will help you with your problems, to cry and sleep. He made you feel like a 14-year-old girl once again, not in a good way though. The days when you used to cry yourself to sleep thinking you didn't deserve to be loved. In time, you learned to love yourself, until he destroyed that too.

It has been a while, hasn't it? Almost 7 months, wow. Only you could wish it had. It wasn't even Friday yet. You wrote in your diary like a crazy ex. You weren't though, right? No. He wasn't worth your time, then why do you keep writing? I don't really know… How am I supposed to know what's going on inside me when I can't feel alive?

"You told her 'I used her to forget you' while saying ' You're the best thing that has happened to me, baby' to me. Why not me, why her?"

Why am I unhappy? You wouldn't understand, you wouldn't understand...You caused great suffering. I wish you to be happy my darling, even if I'm not around, smile, be glad. A pair of crying eyes, you left them behind, to make another pair smile.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

taglist: @hiraethberry @1-fuzzy-squirrels @justcallme1anangel @tejasvkris @rosierosem @meowsicles39

[blvdymary]

WHAT THE FUUUUUUCK HOW IS HE SO ANGELIC?

Cillian Murphy Interview (ScreenSlam)💜

[blvdymary]

"C'est le temps de l'amour," ｡🍸｡⋆ ⊹₊

☾

[blvdymary]

I love my boyfriend!

for those of you asking for the audio of cillian saying “like drugs or like good sex” here it is :)

(video creds to discopiigs on x)