Marilyn Monroe in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953)
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

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@marilyngoddamnmonroe
Marilyn Monroe in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953)
Marilyn Monroe photographed by Milton Greene (1953)
posting your fic on AO3 like
Considering starting a Thomas Shelby RP account from peaky blinders. Like this if you’d be interested! 🥰 I’ll pm you when I get it started up!
Marilyn photographed by Nickolas Muray (1952)
"My sweet, sweet, da'ling." Was all the Duke could say. In both defeat and bittersweet remorse of his abrupt departure that lasted for years. To have gazed upon one other than the exquisite and divine Marily was more than a treat, rather a luncheon of all things godly and pure.
"I've missed you terribly." The Duke resigned, unmoving from where he stood. "Too terribly I'm afraid that I've fo'go'n to get you anything at all. Will you be so kind as to indulge me for dinner?"
Marilyn couldn’t stop herself from gasping at the ever familiar voice, calling her the pet name that made her heart flutter the quickest.
“You-“ she could hardly speak, staring and taking in the enchanting man who had held her heart for so long. “You disappear and expect me to... to simply forgive it all?” She shook her head and frowned at him. “Reappear with no present? The nerve!” Her frown only lasted a moment more before she broke into a smile and a soft laugh before throwing her arms around him and pressed a kiss to his thin cheek, leaving a bright red print of her lips behind.
“Of course I’ll let you take me to dinner- of course”
“Oh-” she paused at his quick answer then nodded. “sure- lets go then.” her brows were furrowed as she was ushered into his car, and set her shopping bags at her feet. The man was odd- that had never changed. Just her Duke being himself. Marilyn decided not to worry herself too much about it.
She grinned at him as he kissed her hand, and touched her face ever so gently. She felt her heart flutter at his nearness, just over the moon that he was back. She opened her mouth to reply to his sweet words, then furrowed her brow at him as he spoke to the driver. “David what is going on?” She grumped, pouting a bit. He was being so odd- so.... urgent. “Are you in some trouble?”
|| Teasing me too goddamn much <3. Let there be chaos!
*Accidentally leaves a receipt for a custom made bookcase with multiple hidden compartments that are are tagged with a PIN-code manager. Stapled to it is a blurred photo of a woman's hand on a table, a gift of sorts with an elegant bow far from Marilyn's preferred and favored set of colors, and a cut picture of bouquet with a clear capture of David's calling card tucked underneath a bud.
/Let's just pretend there's a woman's hand there somewhere, David's calling card, and the flower can be whatever or what color that isn't a usual for Marilyn to get from David and photo is candid. I know I didn't need to explain but I would like to very much relive this moment of when we both spiraled into chaos.
Marilyn was humming softly to herself, wiping off the layer of dust that had accumulated in her Duke’s study. She wanted to help him tidy up as much as she could, even though she knew he’d clean after she did anyway. At least it would be a bit easier for him.
She was wiping in the small clockwise motions she had noticed him do, and brushed something off the desk. She looked down and furrowed her brows at the receipt. “What the fuck?” she whispered as she looked over the order, a frown growing on her lips.
Marilyn glanced over and counted the rows on the bookshelf to her left. The same number as on the receipt. What did he need hidden compartments for? She grimaced at the god awful colored bow in the photo and the tacky red nails in the photo. “god-” What in gods name was he into? And how did he just decide to pick some woman with horrific taste? And- “Lillies?!” She shouted, unable to keep her disgust in her body.
Marilyn stormed out to look for the Duke, and when she found him she grabbed his arm and pulled him back to the study, then pointed at the bookcase. “Unlock it.” she demanded. arms crossed and cheeks slowly turning red. She was fuming.
Marilyn was still boiling, and confused by his sudden switch and pathetic apology. She didn't move when he wrapped his arms around her. She just stood there and felt her brain squeal in confusion. She was still angry. Her heart was racing. Pulse pounded in her veins. She just wanted to scream- and yet he couldn’t even give her enough energy to explain himself- or... anything. He just told her that she needed to stop. Still no explanation. Still no answers. Still isolated.
“David.” she whispered in reply to him, wishing she could give in to his touch- god all she wanted was for things to go back to how they were- but the... unspoken truths were killing her. “David I need you to let me in, or I need you to leave. I will not play games anymore. I will not allow you to keep things from me that I deserve to know.” she spoke soft and calm, eyes never looking into his. She simply stood there in his arms and stared at the wall. If she looked into his eyes she would melt. She just knew it- and she didn’t want to be lied to anymore. “Why did you leave me?”
Marilyn Monroe and Arthur Miller at the premiere of Night Conversation Piece, 1957.
Marilyn Monroe watches Joe DiMaggio at the batting cages, 1961.
Marilyn Monroe Photoblog : My daily personal selection of rare photos of Marilyn Monroe.
Marilyn Monroe and Joe DiMaggio photographed in Japan, 1954.
Marilyn Monroe and Henry Hathaway on the set of Niagara, 1952.
📷: Denis O'Regan (1983)
@dukeoftheblackstar how I imagine Marilyn is getting looked at after he sees the package on the door step
David Bowie, Jennifer Connelly in rehearsal.
Labyrinth - 1986.
Oh god Marilyn is in LOVE
|| Teasing me too goddamn much <3. Let there be chaos!
*Accidentally leaves a receipt for a custom made bookcase with multiple hidden compartments that are are tagged with a PIN-code manager. Stapled to it is a blurred photo of a woman's hand on a table, a gift of sorts with an elegant bow far from Marilyn's preferred and favored set of colors, and a cut picture of bouquet with a clear capture of David's calling card tucked underneath a bud.
/Let's just pretend there's a woman's hand there somewhere, David's calling card, and the flower can be whatever or what color that isn't a usual for Marilyn to get from David and photo is candid. I know I didn't need to explain but I would like to very much relive this moment of when we both spiraled into chaos.
Marilyn was humming softly to herself, wiping off the layer of dust that had accumulated in her Duke’s study. She wanted to help him tidy up as much as she could, even though she knew he’d clean after she did anyway. At least it would be a bit easier for him.
She was wiping in the small clockwise motions she had noticed him do, and brushed something off the desk. She looked down and furrowed her brows at the receipt. “What the fuck?” she whispered as she looked over the order, a frown growing on her lips.
Marilyn glanced over and counted the rows on the bookshelf to her left. The same number as on the receipt. What did he need hidden compartments for? She grimaced at the god awful colored bow in the photo and the tacky red nails in the photo. “god-” What in gods name was he into? And how did he just decide to pick some woman with horrific taste? And- “Lillies?!” She shouted, unable to keep her disgust in her body.
Marilyn stormed out to look for the Duke, and when she found him she grabbed his arm and pulled him back to the study, then pointed at the bookcase. “Unlock it.” she demanded. arms crossed and cheeks slowly turning red. She was fuming.
Marilyns soft sobs halted and their tracks at that question.
“Is that a joke?” She spoke lowly and quietly, looking at The man standing in front of her, one that she used to know better than anyone on the planet. Now It felt is though the man who was once her soulmate, was now a stranger. she watched him turn and walk away and so sunk her heart. Her mind flashed back to when she was married to Arthur. He was always so cold, emotionless, and truly indifferent to her existence and emotions.She remembered how when he would say things like this to her that she would shut down, lock herself away within her own body, and turn into some kind of robot. Marilyn was not that girl any more. She looked in the mirror at the beautiful woman that stood before her. The strong woman that helped her through her darkest days when no one else would.
Marilyn silently followed him downstairs, watching the pale stranger so comfortably slink away. Her blood went red hot as he spoke to her. She removed the eggs from the stove and tossed the pan into the sink. “Make your own fucking eggs.” Her tone was firm and cold, and her voice carried with a power, yet she wasn’t yelling.
She stood in the kitchen with one hand on her hip and the other with her palm pressed against her forehead, mind reeling with confusion, mixed signals, anger, sadness and suspicion bouncing around her skull.
“I’m not doing this again.” She whispered to herself. “I’m not DOING this again!” She shouted, spinning to look where David had gone.
“You disappear to fuck-all for however long, without a word! With out a letter or a call! You come back to me and I welcome you open arms like your dumb little slut- and- and you come into my home and you isolate ME?! What did I ever do to you? Why did you leave me? Why are you locking me out? I don’t even KNOW YOU anymore!” Rage ran through her veins and her scolding quickly turned into shouts. “I WONT BE WITH ANOTHER ARTHUR, DAVID!”
After the words fell out of her mouth she shook her head and dropped her face into her hands, voice now barely a whisper. “I cant. I cant do that again. I spent years in a loveless marriage with a man who barely spoke to me because he hated everything but my looks. I need YOU. Not whoever this is.”
|| Teasing me too goddamn much <3. Let there be chaos!
*Accidentally leaves a receipt for a custom made bookcase with multiple hidden compartments that are are tagged with a PIN-code manager. Stapled to it is a blurred photo of a woman's hand on a table, a gift of sorts with an elegant bow far from Marilyn's preferred and favored set of colors, and a cut picture of bouquet with a clear capture of David's calling card tucked underneath a bud.
/Let's just pretend there's a woman's hand there somewhere, David's calling card, and the flower can be whatever or what color that isn't a usual for Marilyn to get from David and photo is candid. I know I didn't need to explain but I would like to very much relive this moment of when we both spiraled into chaos.
Marilyn was humming softly to herself, wiping off the layer of dust that had accumulated in her Duke’s study. She wanted to help him tidy up as much as she could, even though she knew he’d clean after she did anyway. At least it would be a bit easier for him.
She was wiping in the small clockwise motions she had noticed him do, and brushed something off the desk. She looked down and furrowed her brows at the receipt. “What the fuck?” she whispered as she looked over the order, a frown growing on her lips.
Marilyn glanced over and counted the rows on the bookshelf to her left. The same number as on the receipt. What did he need hidden compartments for? She grimaced at the god awful colored bow in the photo and the tacky red nails in the photo. “god-” What in gods name was he into? And how did he just decide to pick some woman with horrific taste? And- “Lillies?!” She shouted, unable to keep her disgust in her body.
Marilyn stormed out to look for the Duke, and when she found him she grabbed his arm and pulled him back to the study, then pointed at the bookcase. “Unlock it.” she demanded. arms crossed and cheeks slowly turning red. She was fuming.
“You take me so little to think I’d succumb to petty guilt-trips?” Snapped David, darting an infuriated glare of disbelief as he hooked the buckle firm around his waist and began ironing his sleeved shirt before grabbing his vest to button. He hadn’t the chance to unpack since his arrival so it didn’t take much for him to gather his belongings in Marilyn’s bedroom. A couple of books that were still in the bag, some new toothbrushes and knickknacks weren’t really that much to for a quick grab and go.
It was unlikely for David to be emotional and have a blatant display of outburst like so. Even this somewhat timid approach of leaving is considered an outburst to the likes of the Duke. He shook his head lightly and fastened the cufflinks to proper, eyeing the photo that Marilyn handed. If it was the just the photo, he could make dash for it and not deal. But it was her.
It was her who deserved answers than being deserted; her that deserved better than what he’s portraying right this instant. It was her that welcomed him without judgment and yes, this is indeed not a form of judgment but jealousy. The thought of her fuming over some Mary Sue was quite adorable but one not to take so lightly. Marilyn could bring him career down in an instant and though that may be a large factor to consider, him being the cause of her displeasure is of far bigger concern.
He remained quiet as he studied her calm demeanor. A shy lick of the lips before he responded. “I had tha’ shelf made by a designer in Switze’land. An old friend of mine’s daught’a had sta’ted her business on woodwork and machinery.” He pauses, taking his phone out to show Marilyn a photo of him, an elder man of around sixties, and the same woman with her hand up flashing what appears to be an engagement ring.
“Felicia’s getting’ married in a month or two. Her fiancé…” He paused yet again, turning to the bedside table to pour him a drink of water. “Also co-pa’tner of ‘er business, needed money but opted not to accept a generous donation. He said it’d be more meaningful if he could wo’k fo’ it.” A deep breath as he continued. “Felicia made the design and Robert, her fiancé, built that.” Came the Duke’s gesture, pointing to the shelf with the now emptied glass.
@marilyngoddamnmonroe
Marilyn felt panic bubble up in her as she watched him gather his things- what if he never came back? What if her abandoned her again? Deserted her? To think of it made her sick with sorrow and boil with rage. She wanted to grab his arms and physically stop him from leaving- but she didn't. She just watched him and felt her heart pound faster and faster as he moved.
“Stop looking at me like that.” she said in almost a whisper as he studied her. She hated when he did that- he was always watching her so carefully... so quietly.
As he spoke, embarrassment washed over her and her pink hue of rage was replaced by a bright red of absolute mortifying shame. “oh-” she let out aloud relieved laugh, that sounded more nervous than anything and then burst into tears. “Oh I’m so sorry, darling- I-” she spun on her heel to hurry off to grab a tissue and to hide from her horrific actions. She could just crawl into a hole and die. That would be ideal. “GOD how em-BARassing.” she scolded herself while she stood in the mirror, blotting at her eyes. Her chest moved in tiny jumps while she softy gasped for air, trying to quiet down her cries.
|| Teasing me too goddamn much <3. Let there be chaos!
*Accidentally leaves a receipt for a custom made bookcase with multiple hidden compartments that are are tagged with a PIN-code manager. Stapled to it is a blurred photo of a woman's hand on a table, a gift of sorts with an elegant bow far from Marilyn's preferred and favored set of colors, and a cut picture of bouquet with a clear capture of David's calling card tucked underneath a bud.
/Let's just pretend there's a woman's hand there somewhere, David's calling card, and the flower can be whatever or what color that isn't a usual for Marilyn to get from David and photo is candid. I know I didn't need to explain but I would like to very much relive this moment of when we both spiraled into chaos.
Marilyn was humming softly to herself, wiping off the layer of dust that had accumulated in her Duke’s study. She wanted to help him tidy up as much as she could, even though she knew he’d clean after she did anyway. At least it would be a bit easier for him.
She was wiping in the small clockwise motions she had noticed him do, and brushed something off the desk. She looked down and furrowed her brows at the receipt. “What the fuck?” she whispered as she looked over the order, a frown growing on her lips.
Marilyn glanced over and counted the rows on the bookshelf to her left. The same number as on the receipt. What did he need hidden compartments for? She grimaced at the god awful colored bow in the photo and the tacky red nails in the photo. “god-” What in gods name was he into? And how did he just decide to pick some woman with horrific taste? And- “Lillies?!” She shouted, unable to keep her disgust in her body.
Marilyn stormed out to look for the Duke, and when she found him she grabbed his arm and pulled him back to the study, then pointed at the bookcase. “Unlock it.” she demanded. arms crossed and cheeks slowly turning red. She was fuming.
And indeed there was; something had been troubling the Thin White Duke that if so put together, might be the actual cause of his silent absence. With that in mind, David knew that Marilyn is well within her rights to act as such. Fortunately, he’s quite vested in handling people and conflict enough to keep his composure. After all, he had just returned fairly recently.
If it had been any day within his absence, such conflict will be dealt with the Duke quietly walking away. Away to either book another hotel under the radar or call up his assistant to book him as many shows and conferences as they could. But this was home and home is supposed to be the last place you’ll ever leave. It was supposed to be the haven for the troubled soul that is David Robert Jones; or rather, the Thin White Duke.
An irritable sigh fell through David’s collected stance, shaking his head as he marched towards the newly installed bookshelf in question. Tugging onto a decoy book of sorts to trigger the machines, the door opened and reveal a multi-stacked set of empty compartments apart from the ones close to the ground. In it were boxes of perfumes, rolls of ribbons, heeled shoes that were of Marilyn’s size, and two large, plain – white boxes. Leaning down to pick another empty, plain-white, rectangular box, David tucked the paper under his arm to pry the box open. In it was his collection of rings in a well-polished glass case.
“There are more of these, you know.” Came his response, sheathing the box back into the folded cover before tucking it away onto a neat stack of similar-sized boxes. “I was under the impression I’m allowed to modify bits and so’ts of this room. Had I know I couldn’t, I would have stayed at me own loft.”
He hated the feeling of suspicion but he knew all to well it cannot be helped. Marilyn promised the study of her house to be David’s after all. His voice ended with a mild, short, glare before leaving the study and onto the bedroom, scanning the whereabouts of his clothing from last night.
@marilyngoddamnmonroe
Marilyn felt her stomach sink as it opened. She didn't know what she had expected but... it wasn't this. She stood in silence as he sulked away, brain still whirring at what had just happened. It didn't make sense. It just didn't. She was still hot with anger but tried to calm down as best as she could.
“Don’t guilt me.” she said as calm as she could, yet it still came out sharp- a very odd tone to hear from a normally warm and breathy voice. “You know you can modify however you want, you just can’t bring keepsakes of whatever skank you love more than me.” she spoke calm but her words bit down like a snake’s fangs, dripping with venom.
Marilyn handed the photo to him gently. “Who’s red nails, ugly ribbon, and tacky lilies are those, David?” Now, her voice was eerily calm. Quiet. But most of all sad. She couldn't decide if it was a good sign or a bad sign that he wasn’t explaining himself. She just knew something felt wrong.