me: i need to make a playlist for velma

the playlist:

*   @crucifys​  ,   ♡    ♩

“  you  investigatin’  a  crime?   how  ‘bout  prohibition.  ”    velma  smirks  at  her  own  cleverness,  meeting  the  others’  eye.      “  or  that  goon’s  face  over  there.  ”   

⌛️

“  my  mom  had  this  tom  cat.  ”        

velma’s  sitting,  one  leg  crossed  over  the  other,  thigh  visible,  upon  a  bunch  of  velvet  cushions  --  --  she’s  poised  with  the  fire  of  a  15th  century  king,  backed  to  her  neck  with  loyal,  self  -  sacrificing   soldiers  of  the  nobility.    THE  NOBILITY  OF  VELMA  KELLY.   AND  LORD  KNOWS;  THERE  AIN’T  A  BETTER  NOBILITY.     to  her  left  rests  an  ash  tray  --  --   heavily  used,  of  course   . . .   flowers,  sent  by  some  johnny,   and  a  pile  of  newspaper  clippings  with  mentions  of  the     KELLY  SISTER  SENSATION     and     VELMA  &  VERONICA  BACK  BY  POPULAR  DEMAND      sprawled,  chaotically,   across  a  small  side  table.  

                      she’ll  talk  about  anything.        even  that  goddamn  cat.

a  long,  drawn  out  exhale    --    like  the  steam  engine  on  a  rail  line   --   velma  releases  her  hold.     for  some  reason,  she  remembers  that  goddamn  cat  perfectly,  bright  as  day.   so  many  other  things  about  her  childhood  . . .   her  floozy  mother,   veronica’s  crying  and  whining,  school,   her  dad   . . .  are  blurry  . . .   but  THAT  CAT  comes  back,  like  he’s  sitting  right  in  front  of  her  now.  didn’t  matter  what  she  did,  how  she  yelled,  how  many  matches  she  threw  off  the  railing  . . .  what  the  newest  guy  around  the  house  screamed  about.   that  tom  cat  was  always  sitting  there  on  the  rail  at  night  like  an  unchanging  gargoyle.  

“  that  thing  was  always  hangin’  around  our  front  steps.  ain’t  got  a  goddamn  clue  why.  my  mom  didn’t  keep  house  or  nothin’.   barely  fed  us.   don’t  know  what  good  she  had  with  a  cat  lyin’  around.  ”        velma’s  lips  purse  with  annoyance.   those  amber  eyes,  that  matted  fur.   what  a  freeloader.      “  that  thing  was  always  starin’  at  me.  the  nights  i’d  get  shut  out  he’d  sit  there   lookin’  at  me  like  i  was  the  antichrist  or  some  shit.   always  like  he  was  JUDGIN’  me.   like  i  ain’t  had  enough  of  THAT  in  my  life  without  a  cat  doin’  it.  ”   velma  looks  to  the  side,  shifting  her  crossed  leg  from  one  to  the  other.  “  i  hate  cats.  ” 

female awesome meme ♛ (1/20) females in movies: catherine zeta-jones as velma kelly in chicago (2002)

For every “⏳” I receive, my muse will openly talk about a bit of their backstory.

*    @shelassos​    ,    ♡    ♩

“  you  the  one  they’re  sendin’  over  from  paris?  ”  

velma’s  leaning  against  the  wall  outside  of  the  theater,  enjoying  her  cigarette.  she’s  referring  to  the  talent  agent  her  stagehand  has  been  yakking  about,  day  in  and  day  out,  for  the  past  two  weeks.  destined  to  arrive  any  day  now.   CONTRACTS  FOR  A  WORLD  TOUR.  THAT  COULD  BE  YOU,  VELMA !  you  know.  all  of  that  other  junk  that’s  making  velma  have  to  suck  up  to  the  every  johnny  and  nancy  that  shows  their  face  in  the  place.    

velma  pushes  herself  forward,  away  from  the  wall,   drops  her  butt  on  the  sidewalk,  and  steps  on  it.  she  does  a  once-over  of  the  other  woman’s  body.   broad’s  tall.  nice  legs  . . .   and  some  gaudy,  weird  looking  dressage  on  her  arms.   HAS  to  be  in  the  theater.    she  nods  at  her.        “  got  the  gams  of  a  dancer.  ”    god,  she  hated  being  nice. 

Velma was “raised” by a single mom  ——   though the term raised is used incredibly loosely.  Simply put, her father, Dean Kelly, was never around, and left the home when Velma was only a little older than two years, right after Veronica was born. Velma doesn’t remember her dad well at all, with only vaguely fuzzy pictures of him in her head; he had black hair and a loud voice. Unbeknownst to Velma, too, she resembles him quite a bit.  

Dean had been a bootlegger, which was the family’s main source of income   ——   they were very poor otherwise. After his departure from the home, Velma’s mother, Evelyn, had no way of making any money reliably.  A single mother in the early 20th century of Chicago had very limited options to keep herself afloat. She managed to hold onto their home in the slums of the city through odd jobs, and, oftentimes, through soliciting sex from strange men. She was incredibly neglectful of both Velma and Veronica as a result. 

Velma was, most of the time, left to her own devices. Even when Evelyn had been home, she was too busy with her newest boyfriend to pay her children much mind at all. This led to a knack in Velma for getting into trouble young, and acting out for attention  ——   most often this was accomplished simply through bullying Veronica, the younger of the two sisters. When that became boring, she graduated onto other kids in the neighborhood. As she grew older, she started participating in illegal acts with other children, such as vandalism or shoplifting. 

Velma’s grandiose sense of self image, her insatiable desire for the spotlight, and her fascination with having money all stem from her neglectful childhood, and have played a major role in her developing narcissistic personality as a defense mechanism and trauma response. Of course, this is something that is completely hidden to her; it’s not something that she even remotely understands, or even cares to try to.

*   @feartempts​   ,   ♡    ♩  

“  you  got  an  extra  smoke,  johnny?  ”  he  definitely  looks  like  the  type  of  guy  that  would  have  a  smoke.  velma’s  finished  her  last  one  earlier.  goddamn  weekends.  too  many  hours  in  between  shows  and  rehearsals.  not  enough  cigarettes  in  the  world  to  fill  the  gaps.

one of my favorite gay moments of chicago is when matron mama morton charges velma $50 for a phone call and then roxie gets offended because she overheard it but when she needs mama to make a phone call she gets charged a higher price of $100. roxie. think about why velma gets discounts

“No I’m no one’s wife, but oh, I love my life and all that jazz.”

velma, while i’m writing starters for people: this broad’s got on some weird shit. she out of barnum’s circus or somethin’? what the hell am i gonna say to some dame like that, huh?

me: velma, be nice. you’ve been back twenty minutes.

velma: whatever. lady’s got on some weird shit. she out of barnum’s circus or somethin’?

me: 

velma: *takes drag and holds*

velma: write that

*  @mxdam​  ,    ♡

“  how  many  horses  came  outta  kentucky  to  get  your  entourage  here,  eh  ?  ”   velma’s  noticed  the  other  woman’s  attire  immediately  . . .  and,  of  particular  note,  her  jewelry.   “  you  got  friends  here ?  ”   what  she  means  is  should  i  take  note  of  anyone  else  with  money  with  you  that  might  be  willing  to  pay  for  more  than  one  show,  but  velma  knows,  at  least  with  the  snob  crowd,  shit  like  manners  are  always  preferred.  and  so,  she  settles  with  that.

*   @despiite​  ,   for  lana  winters.

“  hey,  you  doin’  a  press  release  or  somethin’ ?  ”   she’s  holding  a  marlboro  between  her  pointer  and  middle  fingers,  pausing  to  take  a  drag.    “   i got  a  story  for  you.  ”  

i’m still setting up this idiot, but LIKE this if you want an insult a dialogue starter?

‘   it  wasn’t  until  later,   when  i  was    washing  the  blood  off  my  hands    that  I  even  knew  they  were   𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗗.     ✘     revamped  2021.    

*   ——   velma  kelly   of   CHICAGO   (2002).  headcanon  based.  very  crossover  friendly.  triggering  themes  may  be  present;  viewer  discretion  is  advised.   written  and  adored  by  jenn,  21+,  she/her,  est.

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