#joetina | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

minxymartina · 9 years

Text

Treat or Trick

Well, I said Joey was going to get it on Halloween.Joey thinks I may have been a bit harsh on him, but it was justified, I feel. Enjoy the latest terrible fic. Happy Halloween!

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake!’

As with nearly every other morning in Kelsall Street, the Boswells can’t get through even five minutes of a family lunch without a row. Joey sighs and picks at his bread, flicking pieces in his soup.

Adrian is on his feet, his voice shrill and frustrated, which means that Billy will soon follow, and then any hope of eating peace will be well and truly gone .

‘I know you’re excited about seeing Francesca for Halloween—Heaven knows you’ve told us enough times, but do you have to go on and on about it all day?’

‘Eh—Julie never lets me see my child, and I’m finally gettin’ to spend time with her as a proper Dad, and I’M ALLOWED TO BE EXCITED, OKAY?!’

Yes, there he goes, leaping from his chair. Joey pushes his bowl away. He won’t be able to eat now.

‘I don’t approve of all this Halloween business,’ Nellie says through her teeth. ‘There’s enough EVIL in this world without you encouraging my granddaughter to take part in a celebration of all things wicked!’

‘It’s only trick-or-treating!’ Billy protests. ‘Just gettin’ sweets, that’s all!’

‘Gluttony, one of the deadliest sins—’

‘Mam,’ Joey says, feeling he can’t let this escalate any further. ‘Calm down, all right? Billy’s just guidin’ Francesca through normal childhood experiences, and—’

Before he can finish his thought, his mobile has decided to cut into the moment.

‘Hold that thought.’ He retrieves it from his pocket and answers.

‘Hello, yes?’

‘Is that Joey Boswell?’ The voice is solemn, stern, familiar.

‘I am he,’ Joey affirms cheerfully.

‘It’s Martina from the DHSS,’ and oh yes, now he recognises her voice, and he wonders just why she’s bothered to phone him, what’s so important she couldn’t wait until the next time he visited. Joey glances around the table and sees everyone is looking at him. He shrugs, smiles, as if all is well and this is a call he’s been expecting.

‘And to what do I owe the pleasure of having a lovely lady such as yourself callin’ me up?’

‘I’m ringin’ to inform you, Mister Boswell, that my department assessed your record last night, and we found evidence of seventeen counts of fraud over the last year.’

Joey freezes. Of course he’s been cheating; they both know this, but Joey is clever at slipping through loopholes, leaving no evidence behind. How can she have found anything of the sort? He counts back, trying to work out what scams he’s pulled off recently, when, how he might have slipped up, but his jobs and his claims blur into one in his mind, and Joey feels his stomach knotting and sinking.

‘Er…how…what…that’s bad, isn’t it?’ It’s pathetic, but that’s all he can say.

‘Yes, Mister Boswell,’ she says matter-of-factly, ‘it is.’

The rest of the family are still watching, and five pairs of curious eyes on him is not exactly helping. With a curt nod and apologetic smile to his mam, he rises from his seat, takes the phone into the parlour.

‘Er…Martina,’ he says, lowering his voice so the others can’t listen in, ‘what exactly am I lookin’ at, here? A fine? Loss of benefits? How much money…’

‘Oh, I’d say you’re lookin’ at more than a fine, Mister Boswell. It’s a considerable sum you owe, once we added it up, and on account of the fact that you’ve wilfully concealed this from us on multiple occasions over such a long period of time…well, I wouldn’t rule out arrest at this point, if I were you, love.’

‘Oh, God!’ It’s worse than he feared. Joey feels his world collapse around him. What happens if he goes to prison? What happens to his family? How will he… how…how…

A whimper of despair escapes his throat. Joey claps his hand over his mouth, realising he’s still on the phone to Martina, realising he can’t display any signs of weakness in front of her, because that’s what she wants. He clears his throat.

‘So, er…what am I supposed to do about this? Given you phoned me to inform me of this situation, surely there must be…’

‘You can come down here after closin’ time and we’ll go through the records. It’d be a good idea for you to know what’s comin’ to yer.’ Joey could swear Martina is trying to keep a laugh out of her voice, and suddenly he’s angry, because it’s all a game to her, and he’s ruined…

But instead, he croaks out a yeah, okay and hangs up, his hands shaking.

The DHSS closes at three. It’s twelve now. Is he to sit in three hours in agony, wondering what is to become of him? What’s he supposed to tell his family? He puts his face in his hands, hyperventilating, feeling tears coming. All his hard work, all his effort to shield his family from his dodgy business, to provide for them by whatever means he can have come crashing down.

He gets up, walks out of the house without telling anyone where he’s going, because nobody needs to know right now, he doesn’t want to upset them before he has to.

He sits in his Jag instead, trying to work out a plan. He’s a Boswell. He must be able to find a way out of this. There just isn’t any way Martina could have found all of his scams, he consoles himself, even though he isn’t sure of this. There isn’t. He’ll go down there, he’ll find out what she’s talking about and just exactly what he’s found, and he’ll work out a way out of this. He can’t let it end like this. He just can’t.

~X~X

Three o’clock takes an eternity to come, and then Joey has to wait even longer for the last of the clients to clear out. He swallows, even though his mouth is dry of any spit, and walks in with his head held high, unwilling to accept defeat until he sees for himself these seventeen counts of fraud.

‘Greetings.’

Martina is alone behind the counters, something Joey is grateful for. The less people who are around to witness his humiliation, the better.

The DHSS lady gestures to the chair in front of her and Joey sits, knees trembling.

‘So. These seventeen occasions on which I allegedly committed fraud…’

‘I’ve waited a long time for this day, Mister Boswell.’

‘I’d like to see these records you supposedly have, especially if I’m in danger of arrest, I want to know what I’m up against. Show me. How much do I owe?’

‘Oh, not gonna try and deny it, are you?’

‘Don’t beat about the bush, Martina. How much do I owe?’

‘Somewhere in the region of fifteen thousand.’

‘Really?’ Joey had thought his heart had stopped, but now it’s pounding so hard he thinks it might simply explode, and he’ll die of a heart attack right here in the DHSS. ‘Oh, God…how…?’

‘Come here, Mister Boswell,’ Martina says, and bloody hell, she seems to be smiling, and yes, she must be loving this; she’s been waiting so long for his downfall and now it’s signed, sealed, delivered and she gets to break the news to him herself…

Joey comes closer to the counter. Martina shakes her head.

‘Go out that door,’ she points the way Joey came, then twists her hand around, ‘then through that door, then the first on the left.’

Joey blinks. ‘That would lead behind the counter, wouldn’t it?’

‘Which is exactly where you need to be, love, so we can go through this file and all the evidence of yer fraud.’

‘And we can’t go through it in the normal fashion, over the counter, why?’

Martina’s eyes narrow. ‘Don’t you think you’re in enough trouble as it is, Mister Boswell? Should I be addin’ to me report that you were uncooperative?’

‘No, no, sweetheart, er…’ Joey laughs uncomfortably, just hoping she hasn’t noticed the fear he’s sure is radiating off him, ‘I’ll come round, don’t worry.’

‘Hurry it up,’ Martina’s arms fold across her front. Trying to focus on his breathing, controlling each in and out to prevent himself from hyperventilating, Joey walks back across the room and towards the double-doors. His stride is slow—he cannot let Martina see how terrified he is; he must remain composed to the very end—but he can feel his legs shaking.

He heads in the direction she’s outlined, pushes open the door and steps into the space behind the counter, trembling as he approaches her.

‘Where’s this file, then?’ he says, feigning confidence, ‘if indeed it does exist…’

Martina’s face is stony. ‘Come here.’

Joey steps closer. ‘I want you to know, Martina, that anythin’ you claim to have found…well, I can disprove…I mean…’

‘Lost for words, are you? That’s a first. Come—here.’

‘I did.’

‘Closer.’

Joey moves forward until he’s all but pressed against her. He’d hoped to annoy her—one final act of defiance before she ruins him—but Martina seems satisfied.

‘Now, then,’ she reaches into her skirt pocket and something jingles. ‘Joey Boswell. Owing to the seventeen counts of fraud on your record, I have no other option but to…’

She’s taken both his hands, and Joey registers something cold against his wrists. He looks down, yelping as he realises she is, in fact, placing handcuffs on him.

That’s not right…she can’t…can she?

‘Eh,’ says Joey. ‘What’s all this, then?! You have no power to arrest me! You can’t…’ He’s given up hiding the desperation in his voice.

‘What day is it, Mister Boswell?’

Not the response he’d expected. Joey can’t comprehend why she would waste time asking this—perhaps just to prolong the suspense, watch him squirm, or gloat, writing down the date of the triumphant capture of Joey Boswell. Well, he’s not going to make it easy for her. He doesn’t know what she’s playing at—apart from citizens’ arrests, he’s quite certain Social Security clerks are not allowed to simply slap handcuffs on clients left right and centre. The most she could do, he’s sure, is alert the proper authorities and let them deal with it, and yet she’s here taking matters into her own hands, and he doesn’t…

‘And I thought you, bein’ in charge of organisin’ and paperwork and all that borin’ rubbish down the DHSS, would have known that.’ He holds his head up, defiant, slightly angry now, because she’s making a meal out of ruining him, being overdramatic, and he’s not having it.

There’s a click, and suddenly the cuffs are closed.

‘Answer the question, Mister Boswell,’ she says gruffly, yanking him closer towards her. She’s pressed against Joey now, and in other circumstances, having a beautiful and enticingly frightening woman in such close proximity to him would be some sort of fantasy come true. But right now he can think of nothing other than what’s going to happen to him, whether or not he’ll go to prison and his Mam will have to suffer the shame, and what Martina thinks she’s doing tormenting him instead of just giving it to him straight, because maybe she wants to see him arrested but she’s not heartless, and…

‘I’m waitin’, Mister Boswell…’

Joey thinks. ‘The…31st.’

‘Go on.’

He frowns. ‘How d’you mean? It’s the 31st.’

‘Of?’

‘October.’

‘And?’

‘Look, what d’you want with me, Martina? Just tell me how much trouble I’m in, for goodness’ sake!’

‘Mister Boswell. I don’t think you’ve quite grasped the situation, have you?’

‘I can’t if you don’t let me know what’s supposed to be goin’—’

A hand claps over his mouth.

‘Mister Boswell,’ she says sternly. ‘What is the significance of the thirty-first of October?’

‘Well apart from Halloween, nothin’ I can think of…’ he pauses. Martina’s grip on his wrists has become tighter, her grin wider.

‘Trick or treat,’ she says, and her voice is liquid, is pure, melted wickedness .

And it dawns on him in an overwhelming flood of relief, with a dash of annoyance and a strange hint of excitement, that he’s not in trouble at all. At least, he doesn’t think so.

‘So, do you mean to tell me,’ he says, feeling his heart rate slow, ‘are you actually tryin’ to say, little Miss Martina, that all this…all this fraud business was just…’

She nods, beautifully smug. ‘More’s the pity. But at least I did get the satisfaction of frightenin’ yer.’

‘You know,’ Joey says, his own grin emerging, ‘usually in these circumstances, people offer treats, not nasty tricks.’

‘That part will come later,’ she says, curling her lip, stroking her fingers over his hand in a way which promises something thrilling, and Joey, now his fear is subsiding, shivers not with worry but in anticipation.

‘Oh yeah?’

She fists his shirt, pulls him closer, and then her lips are against his and it’s glorious, the adrenaline which had built from his earlier fright still running through his veins, heightening the experience. Joey moves to put a hand in her hair, only to realise he can’t. He’s cuffed.

‘Now you’ve had your little joke,’ Joey says, pulling away to look her in the eyes, ‘aren’t you gonna take these off?’ He rattles the cuffs at her.

‘No.’ She’s smirking again, one eyebrow arched. She looks like trouble, she really does, and Joey wishes fervently he weren’t so restrained, so he could grab her, dip her and deliver the most passionate kiss of her life. But he is restrained, and the most he can do with his hands is move them both awkwardly up to cup around her chin.

‘D’you mind if I ask why not? The trick’s over, after all.’

‘It is, yeah. On to part two.’

‘But if this is the treat part of this little affair,’ Joey says, ‘would it not be more pertinent to release me, so that I might reap the full benefits of havin’ you in this position?’

‘Oh, no,’ Martina warns, her forehead crinkling as her brows rise higher, ‘I think you’re mistaken, Mister Boswell. You got the trick. The treat is for me. I’m the one who has you in this position, Mister Boswell—I went to great lengths to get you ‘ere, so I might do with you as I please. And I want these on yer, as a matter of fact.’

‘You’re a little minx, you,’ he says, leaning up to indulge in a quick kiss, ‘that’s what you are. All this time you’ve been disguisin’ your wickedness under a frosty-faced mask, pretendin’ butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth, and it turns out the whole I’m out to get you, Mister Boswell thing was just a pretence to lure me here and have your wicked way with me. Why, Martina, you’re almost as cunning as I.’

‘Cunning, are you, Mister Boswell? Even though you got caught out for seventeen counts o’ fraud?’

‘You made that up, as you well know,’ Joey shakes his head. ‘You’ll never really manage to catch me, sweetheart. This is as close as you’ll ever get.’

‘In which case, I’d better make the most of the situation, hadn’t I?’ Martina kisses him again, backing him up until the backs of his legs hit the edge of her desk. She reaches round, clearing the counter of all its papers with one swipe of her arm, and pushes Joey harder against it.

‘And to think,’ she says, so close he can taste every word, ‘you wanted to go through paperwork ‘ere. There are far better things which could be done over the counter.’

Her eyes glint, and Joey can barely contain his excitement now.

‘You little minx!’ he repeats in awe. ‘Evil, wicked, cunning DHSS lady…’

‘Are you gonna shut up, now, Mister Boswell? Only your gob could be much better employed…’

And then her tongue is ravaging his mouth, teasing his and coaxing to dance and play with hers, and her hands are at the buttons of his shirt, working them open slowly, tantalisingly, one by one, and Joey silently agrees that this is a far better thing to be doing over the counter than going through paperwork.

They break apart, not because either of them particularly want to, but for the simple need of a breath of air. Joey finds he’s panting, his adrenaline up for an entirely different reason now.

Martina slips one hand inside his shirt.

‘Happy Halloween, Mister Boswell,’ she whispers, her lips pressing against his jugular, the fingers inside his shirt slithering up his chest and making him shiver.

‘You know,’ he says, hoping that if he attempts to tease her she’ll silence him in the same way as before, ‘you’ve come up with such an elaborate Halloween scheme, and yet you’re missing one thing.’

‘Oh yeah? And what would that be, pray?’ Her other hand is now tracing a pattern on his thigh, and Joey suddenly finds it hard to concentrate. He forces himself to hold onto his train of thought.

‘No costume. Really, Martina, if something’s worth doin’, it’s worth doin’ properly…’

‘Oh, but I have got a costume,’ she replies, nipping his jaw. ‘I’ve come as triumphant DHSS clerk who finally got her revenge on her archnemesis.’

‘Archnemesis? I’m honoured you think so highly of me.’

‘Don’t go gettin’ a big head now,’ she leans forward, pushing Joey until he’s lying back against the desk, the surface of the counter cold through the silk of his shirt, ‘that would ruin me plan to completely annihilate you.’

‘Well, we mustn’t let that get in the way of the fulfilment of your plan, must we? Annihilate away, by all means.’

‘Oh, I fully intend to,’ she says, her voice soft and husky, and before he knows what is what her tongue is inside his mouth again, his hands are cuffed above him and one of her legs is between his, and Joey can’t remember what it means to think anymore. Not that he cares. He’d come here in anticipation of something horrible and has been met, instead, not only with relief, but with seduction. And he’s not going to complain about that.

He’s just going to enjoy it now, and, when coherent thought returns to his brain, come up with a way to get revenge on her for her trick, for making him think he was ruined when all she really wanted was to have him for her plaything. Much as he likes being her plaything, he thinks as her lips leave his mouth and then press against it once more, she can’t be allowed to get away with this. She won’t get away with it. He’ll get her back.

He’ll make sure of that.

Yeah, dream on, Joey, if you think you’re gonna get revenge.

#minxy martina #joetina #halloween #fic #fanfic

13 notes · View notes

rose-wine-selfships · 2 years

Text

I got a license to kill,

And you know I'm going straight for your heart 🔪 ❤️ 🩸

#pinkprophetposts #rose posts #ship name: I'm in love with a criminal 🔪 🩸#joetina #joe x christina #joe goldberg #you netflix #self shipping community #tw blood stains #yandere obsession #yandere love #tw dark themes #villain f/o #happy holidays y'all!#digital art #latinx artist #latinx selfshipper #latinx selfship

39 notes · View notes

minxymartina · 9 years

Text

While the mood is all Halloweeny, I might mention

Joey is going to get it tomorrow

#minxy martina #joetina #joey boswell #halloween

8 notes · View notes

capostrophe · 7 years

Text

Rec-your-own (fanfiction edition)

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favourite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five other writers.

Tagged by @slightlyintimidating yay!

Reconstruction (Starship, TUp)

This fic got a lot more love than I ever imagined. I wrote it in 2011-early 2012 during the height of Starship’s popularity as a Starkid musical. While there were a lot of TUp backstories I decided to go a little different and go forwards, exploring Taz and Up’s relationship after the events in the musical and I got carried away and had so much fun with it...when I’m in love with an OTP, I go all out and I definitely did with this fic. For a while I got a following from it and people recced it to Karri (LTD author) which astounded me because I didn’t think it was that great, but I had a lot of fun writing it so I’m glad people had so much fun reading it. I also made a lot of Starkid friends. It was a fun time for me, sharing my OTP with a load of people who also shipped it (I guess that was because it was my first real foray into a larger fandom). Looking back, there are a few things I’d change if I gave it a major edit, including some of my less-than-adequate Spanish translations (I since took a class in Spanish so my TUp fics after that were a lot more accurately translated)and a couple of continuity errors but I’m still proud of it. It was the first really long, serious multichap I finished, standing at 26 chapters, which taught me a lot about persevering with a fic.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7311966/1/Reconstruction

At the End of the Day (Bread, Joetina)

It has some things I’d change, but I look back on this as one of my best works. I’d been reading some fics and original works in new styles, and I was inspired to try out a new writing style, straying from the typical third person, past tense and linear narrative I usually stuck with. And I was very happy with the result. I had a lot of fun world-building for not just my favourite couple, but the wider world of Bread, fleshing out the characters and their lives beyond the show, and the more I wrote, the more I was filled with ideas to the point that I wrote several spin-offs in the same universe to continue building on the other characters. I loved writing a fix-it that undid the annoyance of Joey/Roxy’s marriage at the end of the show and put Joetina together, and it was a challenge doing so in a way that was realistic and in-character, but a lot of fun. I started writing it before I’d even finished Money Angel, which I was working on at the time, and completed several whole chapters really quickly. Something I liked about writing it a bit later, setting it in the 90s and early 2000s rather than the 80s of the show, was that, having grown up in the 90s/2000s I could put in references to products etc. much more easily. This fic also had some personal significance for me, as a few issues I explored, particularly with Joey, mirrored some of my own worries.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/9053772/1/At-the-end-of-the-day

A Very Umbridge Sequel (A Very Potter Musical/Sequel, Umbridge/Firenze but not pairing-centric) I was coming up to my trial HSC (mock A-levels/ finals? Idk what they call it outside Aus, but the Year 12 final exams to go to uni basically) and in my free time, wanted to write something light-hearted and fun. And I really, REALLY loved Starkid/AVPM, Joe Walker’s portrayal of Umbridge in particular. So I wrote a fic. All about that interpretation of Umbridge. Having centaur babies. Who were mini Umbridges. I posted little games at the start of each chapter and gave out imaginary prizes (name mentions really) for reviewers who won. It got a following. I disturbed a few people. I had the most fun writing this fic of any fic I have ever written, or any story I will ever write, because it was so stupid and hilarious. I think I was grinning/laughing to myself the whole way throughout writing it.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7068391/1/A-Very-Umbridge-Sequel

Partners in Crime (St Trinian’s, Kelly/Flash)

Though I never finished it (and probably won’t due to being busy), I enjoyed writing scenes from lots of different characters’ points of view, getting into their heads and their way of thinking/speaking as they all gave their perspective on the same narrative. It was a really ambitious fic, exploring dark themes, a weird mafia (who in a coincidental bit of foreshadowing for my eventual Bread love were called the Black Jaguar) and an elaborate plot involving a mysterious USB, on top of the Kel/Flash budding romance. But I thoroughly enjoyed writing it. I think I would have finished it, had my St Trinian’s obsession not slid very quickly into my Starkid obsession with little room for segue (this obsession then made way for my 4-year love of Bread. I changed fandoms very quickly that year, then ended up with a long-term one). No regrets, though. This was a different pairing for me, after 3 years of Gladys/Jeffrey, and writing for a fresh OTP with a very different dynamic was utterly enjoyable. Some great memories of early 2011 for me were sitting up til midnight typing up chapters of this fic (I handwrote nearly everything first) and hitting post.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6698640/1/Partners-in-Crime

Escape from the Fist of Iron (Starship, TUp)

Another fic I’ll likely never finish, but I regret lacking the time/motivation to do so at the time. It was a what-if fic, looking at how the starship rangers’ lives would have gone if they hadn’t won the Robot Wars, and it did quite well, review-wise. I was proud of the writing and the plot I had planned, although I got a bit bored of writing out times and dates, as I usually do when I try to write them into a fic. I feel bad I never finished it, given I had a fair few reviews asking me to do so, but I started it towards the end of my interest in TUp and near the peak of my interest in Bread, so it didn’t stand much of a chance. Still, it was interesting to write and I liked bringing in crossovers from Holy Musical B@man to spice things up a little.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8288062/1/Escape-from-the-Fist-of-Iron

Do You Still Believe in One Another? (Bread, Jack/Leonora, Joetina and others, not pairing-centric)

It was possibly a tie between this and There’s a World Outside Your Window for my favourite ATEOTD spinoff, but this one wins as I wrote it during a dark time in my life, put a lot of thought into it, and it was a challenge writing a Jack-centric fic when he’s not normally a character I think about a lot, so it brought me out of my Joey comfort zone hehe. I started writing it in 2014, left it for a while, came back to it in 2015 and then didn’t post it because a few future fics had just come out and I was worried it might be a bit too similar. It found its moment, though, when it could reflect the loss of Carla Lane and be a tribute to her, and I’m glad I could end up writing it to show my appreciation for her work. A bit hard for me to read now, given my granny died last year and it’s all about Grandad’s death. I liked the aspects of the ‘verse I introduced into this fic, though, a few more details about Joetina’s marriage, Jackonora’s relationship, Shifty and Joey’s friendship (something I wanted and still want to explore in some more fics) and some sprinklings of other issues in the ‘verse I was going to flesh out later. Of the ATEOTD fics, and my Bread fics in general, it’s one of the ones I’m proudest of.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11979200/1/Do-You-Still-Believe-in-One-Another

I tag:

@emilyweepsforpilfrey : curious to see which of your fics are your fave!

@wufantastiic : I’d love to see which of your awesome works make it on here!

@goldengaynetto : can be your old or new fics!

#tagged #tag game #writing #my writing #fanfic #fanfiction #rec your own fics #slightlyintimidating #starship #tup #bread bbc #joetina #avpm #st trinian's #klash

9 notes · View notes

rose-wine-selfships · 2 years

Note

I read your post about your exploration of love for Joe Goldberg to your therapist. I confess I love him for the same reasons, but on the flip side of that coin. I would wreck havoc for the person I love. I love with the intensity of a thousand suns and see myself in Joe, minus the misogyny and killing. While I'd tell my therapist this, I feel safer under an anonymous identity. He's anxiety ridden because of his abandonment wounds, I felt it in the books. And while I don't condone stalking that leads to violence, I do stalk my past loves online. They're a part of me, no matter whether they had an positive or negative influence on me. For new loves, I want to know everything about them. Their desires, their fears, I want to see the best and ugly and know every facet of them. I want to own them and hold them, and I crave a love that will love me just as much as unrealistic as that is.

Sorry for the rant. Have a good day. ~ 🖤

Oh no darling you’re fine!~💕

You’re never a bother at all. I love it when people come to my inbox to rant about things. I think Joe Goldberg is so relatable in that I have anxiety and abandonment issues like he does. And it all traces back to our dysfunctional family lives. The fact he’s willing to put so much love, passion, and devotion (minus the killing, sociopathy, narcissism, misogyny, and extreme stalking) with whomever he’s with is so attractive.

I’ve had my fair share of lovers who have also had their impact on me both good and bad. And I do admit, I tend to watch people’s social media so I can figure out how to understand them better. But never to the point where I follow them home lol. Even still, I relate to moving heaven and earth just to love someone no matter how imperfect they are. I also desire and want that deep and unconditional love just like he does with whomever he’s with.

Honestly, Joe is so relatable as a character even though he’s a villain and he deserves punishment for what he’s done. I don’t condone any of the awful things he’s done to people. But I still love him and find him lovable because I can see a bit of myself in him too. So at least I can act out my fantasies and be passionately loved in fiction by a dark man who will burn the world to the ground just to be with me. That doesn’t sound too bad in my opinion.

Have a good day my lovely anon.~ 🌹🍷✨

#pinkprophetposts #rose posts #answered ask #anon asks #anon answered #self shipping community #Joe Goldberg #you netflix #rant in my inbox anon #I’m real cool with it #f/o gushing #villain f/o #ship name: i’m in love with a criminal 🔪🩸#joetina

19 notes · View notes

minxymartina · 9 years

Text

Pesky Boswells Don’t Deserve Leather Jackets

A Minxy Martina...thing. Because of the Minxy Martina pandemic, which I caught for a brief period.

Yeah so sorry about the existence of this. Probably the worst thing I’ve ever written but yeah... badfic! Yay!

Joey isn’t sure how long he’s been asleep, but when he wakes up, it doesn’t take him long to realise something is wrong. It’s dark and he’s still foggy, and he hasn’t voluntarily walked away from his dreams but been snatched from them, and he’s not sure exactly what woke him. A nightmare, perhaps? He recalls the sensation of pulling and grabbing, though he’s not shivering, as he usually is in nightmare situations.

He shifts slightly, only to feel that something warm and heavy is pinning him down.

Oh. Martina.

Joey breathes a sigh of relief. This isn’t an abnormal occurrence; Martina will clutch at him and curl into him once or twice a week, the victim of her own night terrors, seeking protection from him, and Joey, no matter how tired he is, is always happy to provide her with the comfort she needs.

He goes to put his arms around her.

Only to find he can’t move his arms.

Joey begins to panic, because while waking up with Martina asleep on him is one thing, having his arms immobilised above his head is quite another. He wriggles, wondering what could account for this paralysis, trying to free himself from it but to no avail. As the shrouds of sleep fall from him, Joey becomes aware of something against his wrists. He moves his arm experimentally, feeling it, realising to his horror it’s some sort of cord, and this can’t be right, they might have been ambushed by burglars, they might…

‘Martina!’ He screeches.

She moves a little against him, her actions slow, casual, unhurried. His mind goes into a frenzy, wondering if she’s been drugged, wondering what else might have happened to her—if he’s tied up, Heaven only knows what she’s been subjected to.

‘Martina, wake up!’ he yells. He’d shake her, but he can’t move.

Her response is not what he expected.

‘Oh, but I am awake,’ she purrs into his collarbone, and Joey is astounded that she’s so calm.

‘I can’t move,’ he says, his heart rate slowing, fear replaced by confusion.

‘I know, yeah.’ There’s definitely something wicked in her tone. Joey detects a bit of the old DHSS banter coming into her voice. He feels her sit up, and he could swear the fabric rubbing against him as she adjusts herself is quite starched, that he notices a tie brush against his chest. He could swear she’s in work clothes, but it’s the middle of the night, and what on earth is going on?

‘Martina?’

‘Yes, Mister Boswell?’ Her lips touch his for the briefest of seconds, and then the lamp is flicked on and Joey is finally able to comprehend the situation better. He’s not being robbed, the house is secure, and Martina is sitting on him looking oddly triumphant.

She is wearing work clothes.

She’s also wearing his leather jacket.

Joey blinks and goes to rub his eyes, before remembering that he can’t move his hands.

‘Would it be pertinent for me to ask,’ he says, ‘what exactly is goin’ on, sweetheart?’

She grins, and it’s naughty, and in some way it’s also filthy, and there’s an impish light in her eyes unlike anything he’s ever seen before.

‘Bein’ as clever as you are,’ she’s still using her DHSS voice, ‘I’d ‘ave thought you’d have worked that out by now.’

Martina licks her lips, smirks at him and then leans down, giving him a searing kiss, and no, Joey’s still not entirely sure what’s going on, but no, he decides, he doesn’t mind, if this is what he gets out of it. The kiss is rough, is dirty, more so than any the two of them have ever shared, and while Joey certainly doesn’t object to Martina dominating his mouth like this, is rather enjoying the effect it has on him, he’s still a little confused.

That is, until she pulls back and whispers in his ear, her voice somehow husky and stern and somewhat flirtatious at the same time:

‘I told you I’d get you one day, didn’t I, Mister Boswell? In me official capacity, I mean. Seein’ as I was gettin’ nowhere at work, I thought I’d bring me official capacity home with me and try me luck.’

‘And what makes you think,’ he says, slipping into his Benefit Fraud Rogue role without even thinking, ‘that you can catch me out now, if your deduction skills have not been able to detect any trace of fraud for many years?’

It comes out as a reflex response, so used to teasing back is he, but when she rewards him for this comment with another sizzling kiss, and then a little nip at his throat, the last few shreds of Joey’s brain wake up and he realises exactly what she’s doing, and exactly what she wants.

Joey has always been rather predictable in his private life—and he knows it full well—preferring to keep things simple, stick to what he knows, excel at what he does. He’s never been one for experimenting, really, and though he knows Martina is a bit bossy behind closed doors, is a bit aggressive with her nails without even realising it, has a naughty little habit of ‘accidentally’ groping him under the table every time they’re having dinner at Kelsall Street, always with an excuse along the lines of her merely ‘reaching for her napkin’, and then delighting in his desperate attempts not to react in front of anyone, he’d still never considered that a side of her quite like this might be itching to emerge.

He’s never considered trying anything different—not when intimacy has always been, for him, a loving way of strengthening an emotional connection—but when he takes in another eyeful of Martina, sitting above him looking so utterly tempting, he wonders what harm it would do to change his mind just this once. Martina’s shirt, he notices, has been unbuttoned til it reaches the border between appropriate and revealing, her tie loose, her hair put back in her old curled style, severe and soft simultaneously, and the leather jacket—his leather jacket—just adds a dangerous edge to the whole ensemble. If Joey wasn’t restrained, the urge to grab her, run his hands over her and pin her down would be irresistible. But he is, and she’s looking at him like her next meal, sending shivers of excitement down his spine, and Joey, intrigued to see where this might go, decides he’ll play along.

‘So how, then,’ he presses, ‘are you gonna succeed at what you’ve failed to do so many, many, many times?’

‘Don’t you think you’re in enough trouble as it is, Mister Boswell?’ she teases. ‘And, in case you ‘aven’t noticed, I’ve already got yer.’

She flicks her fingers against Joey’s tethered wrists. ‘It’s just a case now of what to do with yer.’

‘You little minx,’ Joey grins.

Martina grins back, running her tongue over her teeth. ‘I’ve been waitin’ for this moment for a long time, Mister Boswell.’

‘So you have me restrained for supposedly cheatin’ the Social Security,’ Joey says, studying the gleam in the eyes that are only a few inches from his face and wondering if there’s any way he can gain the upper hand in this, because regardless of where the roleplay scenario is supposed to head, in some ways it’s still one of their usual verbal battles, and he simply cannot be passive and let her win without some form of resistance, ‘and yet you’ve stolen my jacket and you’re allowed to walk about scot-free and unpunished? I think that situation might have to be rectified, sunshine…’

‘Oh, yeah? I’d like ter see you try and rectify the situation…oh, wait,’ she puts a finger to her lips. ‘You can’t move.’

‘Just you wait til I get out of this…’

She lets out a deep, throaty laugh. ‘Go on, then. Free yerself.’

Joey makes an obligatory show of tugging at the cords about his wrists, but while she cackles at this pathetic display, the cogs of his mind are whirring, and he’s come up with an idea that might bring her down a couple of notches.

His arms might be tied, but, he confirms as he ever-so-slightly flexes his foot, shifts it so carefully his movement won’t be noticed, his legs are not.

Martina watches him, her lip curling in amusement, as he half-heartedly writhes against his bonds and then slumps back down.

‘You win.’

Her lips part, her teeth flashing as the crocodile grin returns.

‘Pesky Boswells don’t deserve leather jackets.’

‘But pesky DHSS ladies do, I suppose?’

‘One more impertinent comment like that and you’ll pay fer it.’

‘Oh, yeah?’

‘Yeah,’ she leans down to kiss him again and Joey puts the first part of his plan into action, turning his face away just as her lips aim themselves at his.

Martina sits back, a look of surprise on her face.

‘And what is the meaning of this rebellion?’

Joey crows triumphantly. ‘You can try to contain a Boswell, sweetheart, but you’ll never fully succeed.’

‘Oh, I think I could completely immobilise you if I so desired…’ she’s hovering over him now, one hand on either side of him to support herself, and the position is so perfect for the second phase of Joey’s plan that it’s a strain not to laugh out loud, but that might rather give the game away. He continues to hold her gaze, wordlessly inviting her to a staring-down challenge, the like of which she can never resist, and while she’s busy glaring at him he brings his legs slowly up and wraps them around her waist.

‘Eh!’ Martina yelps as he brings his knees back, pulling her against him. ‘Cheat.’

‘In what capacity?’ Joey taunts. ‘DHSS or here?’

‘Both.’ She tries to get up but Joey clings to her. ‘Oh, you will pay for this, Joey Boswell.’

‘So you say, but you’ve done nothin’ so far which amounts to makin’ me pay for anythin’, save tyin’ me arms to the bedposts.’

‘Release me now,’ Martina says sternly, ‘and I might be persuaded to go easy on yer.’

‘Oh, and that’s supposed to be incentive, is it?’ She’s started to pull away. Joey pulls her back. ‘What if I don’t want you to? What if I want to you to be devastatingly, unbearably harsh?’

‘Oh, that can be arranged, don’t you fret.’

‘All right, then, Minxy Martina,’ he says, untangling his legs from her waist and settling back against the pillows, a smile of anticipation on his face. ‘Do your worst.’

‘Do me worst, eh? All right, then. Just remember, you’ve asked for this, Mister Boswell.’

And she does.

I am so sorry. *slinks away*

#minxy martina #joetina #fic #terrible #flee for your lives

6 notes · View notes