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#jet trash
winter-seance · 8 months
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Jet Trash (2016)
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robsclan · 2 months
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Robert in Jet Trash
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firstpersonnarrator · 3 months
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Why do I never tire of cropping images of Rob? You’d think I’d be so over it by now but I just happily barrel forward, screenshots in hand, cropping.
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seanfalco · 2 years
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Okay, I'm not a fan of Jet Trash, but I'm a fan of you 🧡 what if Lee saw someone hitting on the reader, maybe she's a waitress... and he defends her?
thank you for indulging me bb 💚
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The Regular
Lee x f!Reader
Word Count: 2.6k Warnings/Tags: mention of drugs/selling drugs, alcohol, attempted assault/non-con a/n: eyooo my first Lee fic and another new rob character under my belt!  Please comment/reblog if you enjoy!
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The night started out like most others.  Outside, the London night was cold and damp, but inside the club, behind the bar, the pounding music seeped into you while the heat from the press of bodies warmed you.  You’d tended bar since you were old enough to set foot inside one, and the familiar rhythm of the job soothed you, your worries melting away as you poured the drinks.
Night after night it was the same, and after a while, the faces that approached the bar melted into each other, except one in particular.  He’d been frequenting the Aqua Club for the past few months, nearly as long as you’d been working there.  Tall and thin, he approached the bar, flashing you a disarming smile and you met his emerald gaze from under his neat mop of dark curls.
“Back again, Lee?  What’s that, th’third time this week?  I’m startin’ to think you might have a drinking problem.”
An amused snort ripped from his nose and the grin he flashed made your pulse spike.  “Well, can y’blame me?  Not when y’mix the best drinks this side of London,” he chuckled, slipping you a tenner in exchange for his usual.
“Besides, th’drinks almost pale in comparison to the view,” he added, raising a cheeky eyebrow.
“Flatterer,” you muttered, rolling your eyes in return as you slid the glass across the bartop to him.  “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were only here t’see Vix,” you ventured, fixing him with a level stare.
Lee shrugged and tipped back his drink.  “Well, I do hafta speak with her,” he admitted, avoiding your knowing look, “but it’s only business,” he emphasized, dropping his empty glass to the bar with a soft ‘thunk’.
“Uh huh, that’s what they all say,” you countered doubtfully and Lee held up his hands.
“I swear, luv!” he cried, that damn smirk sending butterflies swarming inside you.  “I’m tryin’ t’get her t’set me up a meeting with Marlowe.  I need an in,” he explained, his lilting voice sobering and you let out a sigh.
“Just be careful, yeah?  Marlowe’s dangerous.  Would hate t’see that pretty face o’yours get messed up.”
“You think I’m pretty?” Lee taunted, latching onto the wrong part of your warning.
“Did I say that?  I don’t think I did,” you quipped back, a slight grin tugging at the corner of your lips.
“You think I’m attractive,” Lee replied smugly, smirking as he leaned in, his eyes flicking up to yours as he wet his lips.
Before you could respond, however, a patron across the room caught your attention, impatient for his drink and you let out annoyed huff at the interruption.
“Don’t press your luck,” you murmured, stepping past Lee as you took the man’s order out to him.  
As you walked away you could feel Lee’s gaze on your back, but you fought the urge to look over your shoulder at him, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing he had any effect on you.  By the time you finally turned back around, he was gone.
Letting out a soft huff, you made your way back to the bar, annoyed at yourself for the spike of jealousy that pricked you.  Usually you didn’t envy the woman the attention she got, but this was different.  How could you compare with Marlowe’s star entertainer?  Vix was mysterious and graceful, and you were just a bartender.
Lost to your thoughts, you gave a start as the man behind you reached out to pinch your arse, snapping you back to the moment, the music rushing back into your ears.
“Oi luv, I’m runnin’ low, can I get a refill?” he asked, shaking his empty pint glass at you.
Scowling, you grabbed the glass and returned to the bar, taking a steadying breath to calm you as you held it under the tap til foam spilled over.
“You okay?” your coworker asked, noticing the look on your face.
“The customer at table three’s gettin’ a little handsy,” you explained and the other bartender let out a sympathetic sigh.  
“I got it,” she offered, placing his drink on her tray and heading back out to the floor while you silently thanked her.
However, it wasn’t long before the same man made his way to the bar, trapping you so you couldn’t escape, not keen on being brushed off.  Reminding yourself how good the tips were here, you plastered a smile to your face.
“What can I get for you?”
“How ‘bout your digits, luv?” he asked cheekily, leaning against the bar.
“Sorry, that’s not on th’menu,” you replied, your smile slipping, hoping the bloke would take the hint and bugger off.
No such luck.
Taking a seat at the bar, he leaned in closer, the alcohol on his breath overwhelming.  “Aw c’mon, your shy or somefin’?” he pressed, leering at you, his hungry gaze making your skin crawl.
Just as you were about to open your mouth to tell the guy off, a voice to your side brought you up short.
“Hey, back off, man.  She’s clearly not interested.”
Lee wore a self assured grin as he leaned against the bar, sizing up the other fellow as he chewed his gum, his nonchalant demeanor belying the sharp edge to his gaze.
“Fuck off, mate.  What d’you know?” the bloke spat, his expression turning dark.
Lee merely shook his head, tutting softly.  “I know th’owner,” he answered, blinking innocently.  “You want I call Marlowe out t’settle this?” he asked, his brows raising.  “Cause I don’t think he’ll be too pleased t’hear you’ve been harassing his best bartender.”
Lee’s threat did the trick and you watched as the colour drained from the man’s face.  “Whatever,” he scoffed, pushing away from the bar, clearly trying to save face.  “Fuckin’ prick,” he muttered under his breath as he stumbled away.
“You alright?”
Lee’s question snapped you out of your daze and you quickly nodded, turning to him.
“Yeah.  Yeah, I’m alright.  Thank you.”
The Irishman inclined his head as if it were nothing, but his gaze still followed the drunk as he disappeared into the crowd.
“So, how did it go?  Did you get your meeting?” you asked, changing the subject and Lee blew out of a long stream of air.
“Not yet, I don’t think Vix likes me very much,” he shrugged.  Though he seemed unperturbed, his brows pinched slightly, and you wondered if Vix’s aloofness bothered him, or if he was merely dismayed at the obstacle in his path.
“Hmm, too bad,” you mused, wiping down the bartop, trying not to appear too pleased at the news.
“Yes, well.  I’m not given’ up that easily,” Lee replied.  “I’m not the quittin’ type.”
“I’ve noticed,” you murmured wryly, bringing a smarmy grin to his face.
Jesus, that smile would be your undoing one of these days.
“I mean, unless you wanted t’put in a good word for me with your boss…” he said, leaving the suggestion hanging.
“I’ll think about it,” you conceded, and Lee’s grin widened.
“That’s all I ask,” he replied, spreading his hands.  After a moment, he cleared his throat.  “So, uh, when d’you get off?”
“About an hour,” you answered, raising your voice to be heard over the music.  “Why?”
“Thought I’d walk yeh home.”
“You don’t have t’do that,” you exclaimed, shaking your head.  You knew if he followed you to your door you’d end up inviting him in.  It was inevitable.
“I want to,” he insisted and you let out a soft huff of resignment.
“Alright,” you gave in.  “Meet me by the back door.”
Lee flashed you a parting grin, winking as he slipped away, and you rolled your eyes, silently kicking yourself for giving in so easily.
By the time you were free to go, you grabbed your coat and bag, slinging it over your shoulder as you hurried to the side door, while trying not to look like you were hurrying.  As soon as the heavy metal door swung shut behind you, you fished in your bag for a cigarette, bringing it to your lips as you peered down both sides of the alley for Lee.
“Oi luv, been waitin’ for you.”
The voice that emerged from the shadows was familiar, but at the sound of it your blood ran cold.
“Thought you could give me the brush off and I’d just take no for an answer?” the man from the bar asked, grabbing your wrist as you tried to step away from him.  “Where y’goin’, ey?” he laughed, forcing you back against the alley wall and caging you in with his arms.
“Get off me!  I’m meeting someone!” you warned, struggling to push him off you as adrenaline flooded you, your heart rate spiking and your stomach flipping.
“Well, they’re just gunna have t’wait til I’m done, now aren’t they?” he sneered, leaning in closer.
You flinched back, turning your head away and squeezing your eyes shut, every cell in your body screaming out in disgust.  
“You’re even prettier up close–hey!”
Suddenly your attacker jerked back with a yelp, his rank breath disappearing from your cheek and when you opened your eyes, you found Lee hauling him away by the scruff of his neck, an expression on his face you’d never seen before.  With a growl, the other man broke free of Lee’s grasp and rounded on him, throwing a punch that Lee easily avoided.
Barely giving him time to regain his footing, Lee grabbed the drunk by the collar, his fist connecting with the man’s nose in a spray of blood.  The man cried out and stumbled to the side, clutching at his broken nose.
“You like that, do yeh?” Lee taunted, pulling his fist back again for another punch.  “Y’fancy another?”
“No!” the man cried, quickly holding his hands up in defense.
“No?” Lee asked, no hint of amusement on his face.  “So you do know th’meanin’ of the word,” she spat, shoving the man back in disgust.  “Don’t show your ugly mug around here again, or I swear you’ll get much worse than this!”
The man didn’t wait, scarpering off down the alley, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste as Lee crowed in victory.
“You alright?” he asked, turning back to check on you.
“Yes, I-I’m fine,” you answered, taking a shaky breath, unsure if you were trying to convince him or yourself.  “Thanks to you.”
“C’mon, let’s getcha home.”
The walk back to your flat wasn’t too far, but after the night you’d had, you were grateful for Lee’s company, his arm brushing against yours as you walked, his touch comforting.  You almost reached out to take his hand more than once before thinking better of it.
“This is my place,” you said, stopping in front of the steps.
Lee tilted his head to survey the building, his breath misting in the cool night air.  “Would it be too presumptuous of me to ask for a nightcap?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow at you, waiting for your answer.
“Yeah alright,” you replied, giving in, unable to resist that fucking smile.  “But only one,” you warned, jabbing him in the chest with your finger.
“Hey, I’ll be th’perfect gentleman,” he assured you with a laugh, holding his hands up innocently.  “You’ll be th’one beggin’ me t’stay, you’ll see,” he teased, making you crack a smile in return.
“We’ll see about that.”
Unlocking your door, you shouldered it open and turned on the light, letting Lee in ahead of you.
“Have a seat,” you offered, gesturing to the kitchen counter as you slipped off your boots and hung up your coat near the door.  Following him over, you washed your hands at the sink before pulling out two small glasses and a bottle of whiskey.  As you poured two shots, you noticed the dried blood on Lee’s knuckles and the way he cradled his hand against him as if it pained him.
“Let me see that,” you murmured, hissing out a sharp breath as you reached out to take his hand in yours.  “Jesus, Lee—” you muttered, clicking your tongue in consternation.
The Irishman merely watched you, not saying a word.  Though when you finally met his gaze, you found amusement and something unreadable dancing in his verdant irises.
“What?”
“Nothin’,” he replied, his lips twitching up at the corners.  “Your hands are cold,” he pointed out, brushing his thumb over your skin.
Though it was only a small gesture it sent heat flooding you, warming your face, and you quickly pulled your hand from his.
“We need t’clean that,” you exclaimed abruptly, turning to search for your first aid kit, leaving Lee chuckling to himself.
“You worried about me or somethin’?” he teased when you returned and threw him a dry look.
“This may sting a bit,” you muttered, disinfecting his cuts before he had time to argue.
“Jay-sus!” Lee yelped, nearly pulling out of your grasp in surprise.  “A little warning would be nice,” he hissed, whining like a petulant child.
“I told you it might sting,” you laughed, glancing at his face before pulling a small roll of gauze from the kit and winding it gently around his hand.  “Hold still,” you murmured.  “It’d be a shame t’lose a regular over something so easily treatable, especially one that tips, even if it’s not a lot,” you teased, meeting his amused expression with a smirk of your own.
“Oh, I see how it is,” Lee shot back.  “Y’know, once Marlowe lets me sell my gear in th’club and I start rakin’ in the dough, I’ll be able t��tip much better,” he pointed out, holding your gaze.  “I could even take care of yeh…” he added, his lilting voice softening.
For a long moment you couldn’t seem to breathe, your heart pounding in your ears.  
“I can take care of myself,” you murmured, swallowing, Lee’s hand still gripped in yours.
“I know that, but what if I wanted to?” he replied, and you couldn’t tell if he were serious or just joking around.
Your eyes flicked up to his, searching them for something, though you weren’t even quite sure what, and before you knew it, you found yourself leaning in—drawn in—and your breath hitched as his nose brushed against yours.
A voice in your head told you to pull back, to thank him for making sure you got home safely and see him out, but you found it all too easy to shove the voice aside.  Lingering only a moment longer, you closed the rest of the distance, pressing your lips to his.  When he kissed you back, slipping his hand along your jaw, a tingling sensation spread through you, starting in the pit of your stomach.  
His lips were softer than you’d imagined—not that you’d imagined it often.
“Lee–” you breathed, pulling back before things could get too heated, your gaze seeking his.
His lashes fluttered as he shared your breath, not wanting the kiss to end.  “Hmm?” he hummed, his lips close enough to brush yours as he waited for you to tell him to stop.
“Thank you for walking me home.”
“It was th’least I could do.”
“But maybe you should…” your voice trailed off, the words not wanting to come.
“Should what?” he mused, caressing your cheek, a grin playing at his lips, still so close to yours.
“Should… head… home,” you managed, your eyelids fluttering.
“I don’t think you really want me to.”
“I– I want…”
Shutting your eyes, you let go, the last bit of tension holding you back dissipating.  Shaking your head, your lips collided with his once more, mouth opening to deepen the kiss.  Your tongue hesitantly sought his and he moaned at the brief moment of contact before growing bolder himself, his hand at your jaw slipping behind your neck to pull you closer.
“I want you to stay.”
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taglist: @super-unpredictable98 @salvador-daley @firstpersonnarrator
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My face when I'm watching Jet Trash and that thieving whore is on screen
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upthelagan · 2 years
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Craig Parkinson filming Jet Trash (2016).
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mostlygibberish · 2 years
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I liked the part with the cat.
A movie that operates by the rule of style over substance, Jet Trash was not exactly the most thrilling or well told story, but it had a strange sort of charm to it.
Obviously I watched the movie solely for Sofia Boutella, and I'm happy to report that not only did she actually have a substantial role, but she gave a good performance. Her character was even treated well by the script, for a change.
There was a lot of shakey camera-work and chaotic editing, which combined with the flashback heavy structure made things feel a bit muddled. Overall though, the plot was fairly straightforward, and I actually quite liked the ending. Even Robert Sheehan's originally unlikeable character grew on me by the end.
A stylishly presented, but generic crime thriller, with just enough personality to keep things interesting. Pretty decent.
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nureyevs-worst-alias · 10 months
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"You get so lost in a place like that you forget you're part of it, until it reaches out and grabs you." (Juno Steel and the Time Gone By, 2.17)
Juno Steel inspired by this image* from Blade Runner 2049 (below), someone pointed out how it looks like Juno in the Cerberus Province/Martian desert
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roughridingrednecks · 3 months
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Jet in Arkansas
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spinch-san · 11 months
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NOOO! MY HAPPY MEAL! :(
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winter-seance · 8 months
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Jet Trash (2016)
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robsclan · 2 years
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I would love to do Robert’s makeup
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vanilladotexe · 2 years
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i love rhyth from jet set radio
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Back at being alone in my Jet Trash hate wagon, and the worst part is that I didn't hate it as much as I hated it the first time. Now it feels like my entire world is crumbling around me.
The story is okay? Rob looks good despite being totally underweight. Some of the acting is okay, and some is absolutely horrible, but I didn't feel that feeling of impending doom when I watched it this time. Do I like Lee more now? This fucking movie is sending me through an existential crisis.
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askteamhooligans · 2 months
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HEY FANG!
*strikes a pose* SONANG FOREVER... OR SOMETHING!
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"Join your other few brethren in the TRASH OF SHAME!"
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likeafantasy · 8 months
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