hello lovers :) been out all weekend but…. had to give yall the next piece of our puzzle now that i have some down time, i’m craving them as much as you do ! i hope at least lol.
@deathvallley69 @rattlesnakebite @maybepearl
in this one…. vanna talks, again. another letter.
still, October. a week after her last entry.
high off of the morning where the sun was high and she felt b.i again (before izzy of course) now it’s late, and stormy and the blues have begun.
THIRD LETTER - from vanna.
Dear, izzy
i keep writing because i feel like our connection was so real there’s no way you can’t write to me.
but maybe i’m delusional
that’s what you called me right? when we fought after that first week, you said us acting the way we did was crazy- and i’d be stupid to think i was anything more than a groupie.
but you held me in a way that was otherwise, you flashed your pistol to that guy for looking at me like i wasn’t yours. why would you do that if i was just a groupie?
if i am just delusional, you fucking were to.
you would overcompensate in your harsh words to distract from how true it was when you touched me, the way you looked at me, how you’d spit in my mouth like it was love.
i hope you’re doing well.
well as you can be for a junkie like yourself.
i listened to “our” tape again.
i listened to that song you showed me, “think about you” and i wonder if you think about me, it sounds silly but i feel like that song is about me, just foreshadowing us meeting.
i slept with some guy that’s staying in new orleans, real johnny thunders wannabe type.
just like you.
his fingers left bruises on my hips.
just like you.
hope that makes you sick baby, i miss you.
just let me know if i meant anything to you, because we both know i do.
I LOVEEEE the quote in your bio no matter how many times I listen to patience I never get sick of it it’s so beautiful!!
Your blog is just so gorg I can’t wait to see more of Izzy and Vanna!! 🌸🫶🏼
omg! you are absolutely soo precious and insanely sweet! this made me smile :’)
thank you a million!!
and, for the patience quote- i feel the same exact way like it means so much to me. it is my favorite part of the song and literally makes it. so insanely beautiful. i’m so happy you feel the same way!!
“when you remember me izzy, don’t forget what is ME”
smells vaguely of salt washed santal, her mothers Dior poison, peppermint extract or vanilla from the spice cabinet- depending on the day
hair that’s big but never to its fullest potential because she ripped the rollers out in frustration an hour into it
rum raisin lipstick and “homemade lipgloss”
the floor of her bedroom strewn with leopard and zebra skin rugs (daddy used to go on safari’s before she was born)
what she never chalks up to be more than a “nosecandy problem” when her hands shake and she wears sunglasses in the house
king james bible she keeps her nude polaroids in, specifically in genesis & revelations
a guitar pick- izzy left behind of course, kept in her back pocket at all times since he left
fucking to friday the 13th or little house on the prairie
favorite song is layla, runner up… bell bottom blues (classic)
claims she’s “never heard of guns n’ roses” fat lie.
besides her horse she’s had since she was ten, her daddy bought her two dobermans on her sixteenth birthday and they are her babies. “Tasha & Crankshaft” (affectionately refers to crankshaft as Cranky)
father is under federal investigation for running coke through gulf on his shrimp boat named Miss Vanna Mae
her mother was a former california beauty queen named Priscilla, she died in a “spear fishing incident “ when Vanna was five.
her birthday is january 1st, 1969
she has an older brother named “Street James” (yes that’s his legal name) who plays football at the university of alabama
during her dances at the club, her most chosen song to strip to is Six Blade Knife by the dire straits
i don’t know where this is going yall, but it seems like some of you enjoy it as much as i do which is absolutely thrilling.
tagging two lovely mutuals who are fantastically sweet and supportive!!! 🪽🧘♀️
@rattlesnakebite @deathvallley69
VANNA & IZZY - still, mid october 1987
IZZY’S PERSPECTIVE. los angeles california
sun has set, izzy’s thoughts haven’t.
half voiced to the degenerates around him, half mumbled in his head.
Izzy is laid out on the back patio of whatever shitty apartment him and some of the boys have shacked up in since summer started. his last marlboro red has burned down, the red ember is past licking at his flesh, now just cold ash waiting for the next flick to fall. Axl’s been humming some melody he swore he came up with in a dream, Izzy knows it’s something he showed him before he left town last time but his thoughts are too jumbled with everything but reality and only miss Vanna Mae.
it’s been quiet besides that, nothing has been said since Axl told Izzy not to worry about it, the letters don’t matter, the girl doesn’t matter, just another pretty little southern stripper, he said and while izzy didn’t necessarily disagree, something about hearing another man say that- especially axl… it made izzy wanna rip his head off or put his cigarette out right on axl’s face for saying it yet he swallowed it and began what he’d been doing since he left “gator land” as Vanna called it, all he could do was recount the eighteen days and nights. every moment. every thought. every disfigured scene of sex in his head. everything all at one time.
Vanna mae. that was her fucking name, so ditzy, so unbelievably southern and backwoods that i couldn’t believe it at first. so pretty in this certain way that it almost irritated me, like it was some shit i could fucking dream up and that shouldn’t actually exist.
she’s written twice.
i carried the first letter around with me for two days before i read it. a girl backstage, after my first gig back gave me head with it in my back pocket.
i got so sick thinking about her words being that close to me while it happened, i pushed the girl off and threw up my guts in the bathroom.
i mean it was either that or on the girl sucking my cock.
pick your poison i suppose.
Vanna’s problem was as soon as she laid eyes on something, the claim was already there like it was unspoken. i guess that’s my fucking problem now. everything about her was infuriating because it made me feel like i belonged in her hands and i hated that.
i keep seeing her on that horse, man. what a fucking sight it was. i feel her nails grazing my stomach as they slipped under my shirt. bare leg thrown over my waist while we slept in her bed, sometimes her knee in my back like the thorn of her memory in my fucking side.
i gave her that address as a throwaway type thing
maybe she wouldn’t remember and if she did, maybe she wouldn’t write, and if she did write maybe just to say “hey california i do this with every guy, i don’t actually care about you! get fucked”
i almost wished it was that. but that ain’t vanna, and wishes don’t come true.
expansion on my southern gothic board of izzy & the dancer Vanna
@deathvallley69 hope you like this little take! and thank you a million for asking for southern gothic, i’m obsessed with this little storyline right now
VANNA’S DIARY ENTRY - mid october 1987
two months after izzy.
he didn’t tell me exactly why he was visiting- i figure he was running from something in LA, his band, a charge he mentioned by accident and refused to bring up again, his mind- something.
how he ended up here? he was riding bikes with some “friends” that lived in my area, yet i never saw em. he was strange in some ways, but as open and as clear as day in others. he let me ride on the back of his bike and in return, i took him to my daddy’s house and let him ride on my childhood horse. we swam naked in the creek and messed around so long by the time we got out, there were leeches lapping at our skin.
he asked me why i danced, i think i was the only dancer he ever cared to ask that question to- i told him that i liked how all the boys i grew up with looked at me while i was on stage- like they realized i was the prettiest thing in their life and yet they couldn’t touch me. i could see it in his eyes when i said that- he loved me or he hated me for the answer but i felt warm from the thought of both.
i slept with him for eighteen days and eighteen night, but his eyes are so damn pure and his teeth on my skin are so sharp when he mumbled certain things to me i can’t even repeat on paper, it was like he knew me more than just the eighteen days- like he’s known me for all my eighteen years and he was just now able to reach me.
izzy would tell me that he thought my “pretty face” made it feel a lot hotter here than it actually was- i’d tell him i thought it was the coke or the humidity in reality but, i liked believing his quiet words of admiration.
he fucked me like he was possessed, his kissed my mouth in a way that it was more like he was trying to live inside of it- devour me for all i am and all i could be. he held my hand in the bars like i was his little girl he was afraid to lose in a crowded store. God knows i craved that my whole life and now i’ve had it and it’s gone. i need it back.
why couldn’t i make him stay?
why couldn’t the dirty water seeping in your veins be enough to make you realize that you are meant for me iz?
i’ve written him twice since he left, the address he gave me i labeled with my kiss stains around it. i just hope my words are enough to charm a reply back from him. i wonder if he thinks of me like i think of him.
i have a dancing shift tonight, i have someone who wants to take me out- but i don’t want anyone’s eyes or hands on me if they aren’t his.
God izzy, you royally fucked me in every way, i almost hate you for it.
being his younger model girlfriend, he’s trying to tip toe away from the fame… she’s trying to leap towards it. it’s sad but it’s almost sweet how much he tries to pretend it doesn’t mean anything to him <3
titsay
romaincrisis
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