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#Vintage theme park ride
atomic-chronoscaph · 10 months
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Enchanted Forest amusement park, Maryland (1950s/1960s)
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adarkrainbow · 4 months
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Speaking of fairytale theme parks, look what I found in a free-to-take box!
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Yes, it is an old brochure/booklet of the Efteling park! Would you look at this... It even has the text in four different languages!
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Unfortunately the booklet smells really bad, so I won't keep it... But I had enough time to scan all of its pages, so enjoy!
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head-vampire · 2 months
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Back to the Future: The Ride (1991) Postcard
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retropopcult · 2 years
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Disneyland’s Alice in Wonderland attraction and Fantasyland as seen from The Skyway, 1957
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trnsocial · 4 months
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Wax Pack Flashback: E.T. The Extra Terrestrial (1982)
This time around Adam is opening up a pack of E.T. The Extra Terrestrial trading cards from 1982 by TOPPS and sharing his memories of the phenomenon created by this lovable, beer guzzling alien. Continue reading Wax Pack Flashback: E.T. The Extra Terrestrial (1982)
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unrealityliminal · 1 year
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fever pitch (b.b.) - part three
previous part | series masterlist
soundtrack: don't blame me - taylor swift pairing: footballer!bradley x popstar!reader synopsis: you and bradley spend the night, but the road to heaven is full of obstacles; some are external, others are self-inflicted. warnings: language, public scrutiny (will be a recurring theme in this fic ha!), bradley is a stand-up guy all round, fluff, smut (d/s elements, praise kink, bit of a bratty side?, fingering, oral [f receiving], dirty talk, size kink, bradley is PACKING, protected sex) notes: i'm back! life has been crazy since i posted the previous chapter, but i just wanna say thank you so so much for your patience and your kind words about the fic so far! big shoutout to @gretagerwigsmuse and @teacupsandtopgun for being absolutely GEMS in brainstorming ideas-- this wouldn't have happened if it weren't for y'all <3 happy reading!
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The Langham, Sterling Suite. Ask for Holly Golightly ;)
Bradley smiles at your text, and the cheeky “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” reference. He shoots up a quick reply as he makes his way out to the lobby, fighting hard not to be grinning like an idiot to any unassuming passersby, until—
Click-click-click-click! FLASH! FLASH! FLASH!
“Hey, it’s Bradley Bradshaw!”
“Oi, Bradley! Give us a smile, mate!”
“Bradley, did you get to meet Y/N inside?”
“Did the boss let you out on a school night, Bradley?”
”How are you feeling about the Sunderland game this weekend?”
It’s a meager distance from the steps of Annabel’s to the curb where the valet has brought out his car, but holy shit. It doesn’t usually get nearly as crazy as this. He’s partied here with Harry Styles, and nobody bat an eye when the guy stumbled out drunk with his left tit out. But maybe it’s because Harry lives in London sometimes, or maybe because he was on a break… unlike Miss Americana on her world tour right now. It makes him pause and rethink how careful he needs to be.
Bradley gets into his car and drives off, trying to tread between the fine line of quick and careful. He can’t help but look over the rearview mirror more often than normal. Fuck, is this how you feel like all the time? He’s no stranger to the spotlight, but rather than the occasional run-ins, nobody has ever been interested in where he went to dinner on a random Tuesday night.
The Langham is barely a mile away, but Bradley sees photographers parked across the hotel with their long-lens cameras and disgusting disposition, and he keeps on driving. Thinking. Restrategizing. Hoping that his vintage aubergine Ferrari isn’t causing suspicion for driving by the second and third time.
He finds a basement parking lot behind the building and pulls up, hoping it’s the right entrance to the hotel. The attendant looks starstruck as he nods and points the way, sending him off with an eager ‘Come on you Gunners!’. And just like that, he makes it into the lobby out of the pap’s sight.
Be cool, he reminds himself, you’re only as suspicious as you seem to be. He comes up to the reception desk, and the girl behind it greets him warmly.
“Good evening, sir. Welcome to the Langham. How may I help you?”
“I’m here to see Ms. Golightly at the Sterling Suite,” Bradley says smoothly. “Holly Golightly.”
“And who am I speaking with, sir?” The girl looks at him like he seems familiar, but can’t quite place him. 
“...Paul Varjak,” he states, unable to bite back the smile. Oh, the thrill of giving out a fake name with the very real possibility of getting called out on his shit. 
But she nods and grabs the telephone, dialing into your room. Blissfully ignorant of the pseudonym he just gave her. 
Good. 
Let this inside joke be the two of yours alone.
The elevator ride up is peaceful—too peaceful that he can hear his heart beating and his palms sweating. Even the carpet mutes his footsteps towards the double door. Before he even presses the bell, a bodyguard opens the door for him.
“Mr. Bradshaw,” he nods curtly. It’s one of the guys from the restaurant earlier. Middle-aged, stout and rather short, sporting a permanent scowl and a vibe that indicates he’s seen some shit.
“Hi. Sorry, I haven’t got your name…?”
“Guy,” he deadpans.
Bradley wonders if that’s his real name or he’s just saying it so Bradley would get off his case, but smiles anyway. “Nice to meet you, Guy.”
Guy hums gruffly and ushers him into the foyer, an identical hallway of the hotel, with a room on each side. “Through here,” he leads him towards another set of double doors at the end of the hallway.
Meanwhile, you are full-on freaking out in your living room. Should you get changed? You’ve taken off your heels, but getting everything off feels so premeditated… You don’t even know if he wants things to go that far. Maybe you can break your little rule and bring out the wine for liquid courage? Gosh, nothing feels right. And it’s been so long since you’ve last done this that you’ve actually gone rusty.
And before you get to decide—in the long, wasteful twenty minutes or so you’ve been pacing, you hear a knock on your door.
“Coming!”
You rush over to get the door and there he is, coming out victorious through the hurdles, smiling at you.
“Thanks, Guy. I’ll take it from here,” you dismiss your security a little too quickly, nodding over Bradley’s shoulder. You’re sure Guy is rolling his eyes all the way back to his room over your lovestruck teenager behavior.
But it hardly matters when this man before you is looking at you like the sun.
“Hey, you.” Bradley beams at you from his spot. As if afraid to invade your space somehow.
And so are you. This feels like that night in the garden all over again. You have to remind yourself that this isn’t some pocket of a park you stumbled into; this is your hotel room. 
Quiet. 
Private. 
Safe.
“Come on in.” You let him cross the threshold, closing the door behind him the warm foyer light cast golden upon his face. You’re not sure if it’s the fact that you’ve ditched your six-inch heels, or that there’s no one else, but Bradley looks even taller than you remember him. Broader. More… imposing.
“I’m sorry for taking so long. There’s cameras everywhere and I had to—”
“It’s okay,” you try to reassure him. It feels rude to ask if he got caught on camera, but at this point, you had to ask. “Did you… Did they…?” 
Bradley quickly shakes his head. “No, I took the basement entrance, out of sight. We’re good.”
”I’m, uh… sorry for the fuss.”
”Hey, it’s no trouble at all… Ms. Golightly,” he tilts his head, grinning at your chosen pseudonym.
”Yeah, it changes every time. My last stop in Tennessee, I was Clarice Starling,” you admit, making him laugh. “Although I’m glad you got the reference… Mr. Varjak.”
He simpers, very proud of himself. And with that, he takes a step closer to you. Towering over you. Crowding you with his smile, his scent, his body heat… and neither of you makes the first touch. You’re painfully aware of how his gaze keeps dropping to your lips. Bodies drawn towards each other but tied in place for some reason. It seems like despite all the flirting you did at the restaurant, everything goes out the window once you’re alone.
You’re just two strangers, caught in a thrilling game of push and pull. Too scared to tip over and just… fall.
“Can I kiss you…?” Bradley breathes out. He feels foolish for asking, but it’s the only way to make sure he’s not ruining the entire evening.
But you sigh in relief and nod your head yes, and it gives you the push you need to close the distance from him. You don’t know which one happened first; touching his lips with yours, grasping his arms for balance, or standing on your tiptoes on his shoes. He keeps you there, his strong hands securing your waist.
“You’re making me feel like a kid…” It makes you giggle into the kiss, and he can’t not possibly fall in love with the sound of that—with the feel of your lips pulled up right against his.
“I don’t think that’s a bad thing…” Bradley runs his hands down your sides gently. “Besides, I’ve been wanting to do that all night.”
“All night? You mean you’ve been thinking about making out with me while I tell you my life story?” you gasp, feigning shock and offense.
He laughs again. “Maybe for a moment or two there, I’ll admit.”
“I thought you were a gentleman!” you give him a playful smack on his behind, and there’s a flash of… something in his eyes. A spark, or a darkening. You’re not sure what it is yet, but it sends butterflies into your stomach yet again.
Bradley tucks some loose strands of your hair behind your ear. “I’m still a gentleman.”
“Really? I don’t believe that…” you sway his hips lightly, “I think you’re very… very bad,” you purr out, your lips barely touching.
He meets you halfway, and it feels like less of a shock this time. You gladly lose yourself in him, knowing you’ve crossed the line now. You finally notice how his mustache scratches your skin in a nice way, how he holds you flush against him, how he just melts into you in the kiss… enshrouding you in his warmth and lighting you on fire at the same time. 
Bradley pulls away, barely just. His forehead is still pressed against yours, your noses are bumping, and his breath melding with yours. He licks his lips and you swear you can almost taste it. “You’re making it really hard for me to be a gentleman, kid…”
You can’t help but chuckle at the nickname. It’s not one you expect, but it sounds right somehow. “I didn’t invite you all the way here to be a gentleman.”
The twinkle in his eyes darken. Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of him. “Is that right?” Bradley’s hands slide down your hips, finding the swell of your ass and giving it a firm squeeze.
The air catches in your throat, and you swallow lightly. “Mm-hm.”
Instead, you lead him into the bedroom. Bradley is right behind you, barely a step behind. His hands have found a home on your hips and he seems adamant to stay there for a moment. Insisting to hold onto you because he worries he’ll get ahead of himself before you’re ready. But gosh, you’ve been ready all night and you’re practically twisting your arms around trying to reach the zipper on the back of your dress.
“Come here, I got you,” he rasps, his heart skipping as he drags the zipper down your back. He’s not sure which one he loves more; the dip of your spine that he wants to trace with your tongue, or the way the dress falls to the floor and reveals what’s underneath that prim and proper pink dress.
A tiny scrap of lace held by a black strap on either side of your hips, framing the swell of your ass perfectly.
And he swears, for a split second, he thought he had died and gone to heaven.
“Fuck…” he breathes out.
You can’t turn around fast enough. It might be a good ‘fuck’, but what if it’s a bad one? “What’s wrong?”
Bradley just blinks at you, for no other reason than how your nipples are poking out the side of the skimpy triangle of your bra. And that your lipstick is smeared on the edges from kissing him.
But of course, your mind is already racing from the lack of response and you’re already thinking, oh no this was a bad idea I shouldn’t have worn this—
“Hey, hey…” he sees your face fall and your arms come up to cover your chest and he immediately steps in. Holding you close, hoping to give you comfort. “Is this all for me?”
Oh, shit. Maybe if you close your eyes tight enough, you would melt to the floor. “I know, it’s a little much—”
“No, that’s not what I asked…” Bradley tilts your chin up, making you look him in the eye. “I said… Did you put these on for me?”
Your breath comes up short, and you nod ever so slightly. You don’t even trust your own voice not to betray how much you want him to like it. How much you want him.
“It’s perfect. I love it. Thank you.” He smiles into your lips, kissing you there. Spelling out how he feels with his hands on your ass, his mouth on yours. “Such a good girl…”
That flips a switch in your brain and he can see it. Your eyes go wide, your posture changes, and all of a sudden, you look so… small in his arms. So vulnerable, so beautiful. So perfect. 
Suddenly, he’s holding the world in his arms. The sexy little thing you call panties is a pesky little nuisance now, and he can’t wait to get it off of you. His broad shoulders are keeping your legs open, his nose nuzzling your pubic bone as he looks up at you.
Bradley lowers you down on the side of the bed, settling on his knees before you. Committing every inch to memory by touch, from your ankle to your knee, up the inside of your thighs. When he reaches the scrap of fabric at your core, he feels it slick. He smirks. “What do we have here?”
Your face heats up. How the fuck are you supposed to answer that? No words are coming to your head—not when he’s drawing patterns over your pussy, making the lace glisten all over. And when your panties are positively ruined, he draws his hand back and licks the offending fingers in earnest.
And all it takes is a taste to send him into a frenzy. 
“Fuck honey, need to taste you…” he murmurs between feverish kisses all over your legs. “Can I?”
You nod fervently, feeling like he’s got you under a spell.
“Use your words, kid.” He grins, playfully biting the inside of your thigh.
The sharp sensation makes you yelp, and you grip his hair in reflex. “Yes, want your mouth on me, please…”
“Good girl, asking so nicely…” he chuckles, satisfied with your response. Then, he pulls you to the edge of the bed. That dainty scrap of lace you call panties is a pesky nuisance now, and he couldn’t wait any longer to get it off of you. With your legs hiked up on his broad shoulders, he dives into you. 
A taste, as it turns out, is an understatement because what Bradley does is devour. 
“Oh, fuck…” you gasp sharply at the contact.
With one hand pinning your thigh open, he laps you up in earnest, figuring out the many ways he can make you squirm. Time ceases to exist because it feels like he makes you come in no time, but also he’s been down there forever. But he goes on and on and on until his name comes out in a desperate chant of lust and need. 
“Bradley Bradley Bradley…” she grinds shamelessly into his mustache now, an unfamiliar but not unwelcome sensation on your part. “Please, I’m gonna…”
“I know, honey. I got you. It’s okay.” It’s an oddly wholesome thing to say in a moment like this, but maybe you’re a hopeless romantic at heart, because sweet nothings get you off.
Your orgasm strikes like a thunderbolt, and you find yourself arching into his mouth. The more you take, the more he gives—or is it the other way around?— It seems like he takes as much pleasure in it as you do. Maybe even more, as he holds onto you as you squirm away overstimulated.
“Bradley… wait.” You grab a handful of his hair, trembling breathlessly.
His mustache glistens when he comes up for air, and he finally (finally!) takes off his suit jacket as he stands up. He eases up on the throttle and lets you breathe for a second. He rolls up his sleeves to his elbows, watching you spread out like a feast for him. Legs open, bra askew, hair fanned out on the pillow… God, he’s so lucky.
When he returns on top of you, you’re eager to pull him by his belt buckle, but he brushes your hand away. You frown in protest. “But I wanna touch you—”
“It’s not your turn yet, honey,” he chides you teasingly.
“You just had your turn!”
He shrugs, nosing your cheek. “Well, it’s still my turn, so…” Bradley closes the gap again and kisses you openly.
The taste of your arousal on his tongue makes you dizzy, but it can’t distract you from the buzz of his fingers rubbing your devoured pussy, sending shivers down your spine. It’s entirely too much, and you keel over from the contact.
“Somebody’s a little sensitive, huh?” He grins, easing the throttle a little.
“Fuck you…”
“Well, if you say so.” He slides his middle finger in.
“Ohhh… Bradley…” you buck up your hips and moan. But in comes another finger, and you swear it feels like all of him. 
He’s wound differently this time, like a man on a mission. With his fingers crooking and stroking your silky walls, beckoning you to come closer, while you grip his shoulders, willing yourself to hold on. But his teeth yanks the edge of your bra to set your nipple free, and his sly tongue finally gets a taste… all resolve goes out the window.
“Come on, honey. I know you got another one in you…” he breathes out, undoing the front clasp of your bra so he can suck your tits with all his might, willing you to come.
And frankly, who are you to say no?
The burst of pleasure hits you from your core to your fingertips. If he wasn’t pinning you down on top of you, you would have probably floated away. But you’re firmly laid on the mattress and feeling everything. Your eyes blink back into focus as you come down from your high.
You pant, staring at him in disbelief. Nobody has ever put that much attention on you in bed before even taking off his clothes. “You got a baseball bat in there or something?”
“Something like that.” He rolls his eyes playfully. Jokingly, you assume.
You take his arm, kissing his wrist, “Can I touch you now?” sticking your tongue out to lick his digits clean of you. Putting on a show as you suck his fingers. “Please?”
He throws his head back and groans. “Fuck.” He can’t resist that doe-eyed look you’re putting on, nor can he resist you undoing his shirt buttons. He can play dominant all he wants, but he knows that the truth of the matter is, he’s all wrapped up around your little finger. “Okay, okay. You win.”
It’s a mess of unbuckling pants, kicking off shoes, and tossing clothes to the floor. Your hand reaches out to trace his gleaming skin, every ridge of his abdomen. You’ve seen the Calvin Klein campaigns and the Men’s Health covers— and gosh, he looks like a dream. But when that thing just springs up to his stomach when he pushes his boxers down…
You didn’t expect him to manifest straight out of your wet dream.
“Holy fuck, you weren’t kidding about your baseball bat,” you breathe out, head tilted as you stare at his thick cock. The vein that runs along the side, the way it curves slightly to the right, the length that makes you clench at the mere thought of it… Fuck, it’s pretty.
Bradley chuckles sheepishly. He knows how big it is, he’s heard all the jokes in the locker room, but hearing it from you hits different. “You scared?”
You should be, a little. But without flinching, you bite your lip and look him in the eye. “Nah, I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”
Gosh, he loves you. He’ll have to remember not to blurt that out too early. “Okay, big girl,” he chuckles, kissing you one last time before rolling off of the bed.
His sudden disappearance out of sight makes you frown. “Where are you—” you prop yourself up on your elbow, seeing him fish out a packet of condom from his trousers pocket, “Right. Safety first.”
Bradley nods, tearing the packet open with his teeth and rolling it on. There’s something so hot about how a man looks just before he fucks someone. “Mm-hm. Gotta make sure we’re both covered.”
“Do I need goggles and a helmet, too?”
He pauses as he straddles your hips. “Maybe next round,” he cheekily quips back. The idea of you wearing nothing but a helmet and safety goggles weirdly makes his cock stir, too. But you’re already lying naked under him, and he doubts that much will deter his hard-on.
Bradley pushes himself into you a little, and your eyes water as you whimper out in a blur of pain and pleasure. And here you thought two of his fingers felt full…
He stops in his tracks, trying to gauge your reaction. He nearly lost his mind over how tightly you’re clenched around him, but he doesn’t want to presume. “Too much?” He asks softly, stroking your cheek. 
Your breaths run ragged as you look up at him, almost in awe. “You’re just… so big…”
He laughs breathlessly. He hates to brag, but it’s true. And as much as he’s enjoying the way you flutter under him, he has to ask, “Want me to pull out?” Please say no, please say no, I don’t think I can handle it…
“N-no…” you wrap your arms and legs around him, clinging to him for dear life. “But I don’t know if it’ll fit.”
Bradley smiles at what has to be the most adorable look he’s ever seen from you. He kisses your forehead in reassurance. “I’ll go nice and slow, okay? I promise.”
Feeling this small and vulnerable so soon after meeting someone would usually set all kinds of alarms in your head. You never know how a guy would take it. But in this moment, nestled in the crook of his neck, among the mix of his perfume and aftershave and his natural musk… all you want to do is stay. “Okay,” you nod softly.
“Let’s try again then, hm?” He kisses your temple and whispers in your ear, “Open up, love.”
With a deep breath, you bite back a whimper as you take him deeper, still not quite all the way in. “Hurts…”
Bradley stops again, his concern fully taking over now. “You sure you want me to keep going…?”
“Yes!” You surprise yourself with how quick and desperate you answered him. Your eyes shut, trying to offset the warmth setting over your cheeks, as you make the dirty admission, “I… I like it when it hurts.”
Jesus fucking Christ.
Bradley has to remind himself not to come on the spot, because holy shit. He wouldn’t go this hard on a woman so early in the game, but… his head is dizzy from how innocently you said it. He takes a breath to pull himself together. “Tell me if it’s too much, alright?”
The air is heavy. The room is silent. You can hear the shift in the tension as you smirk, “Yessir.”
There you are, you little devil. Bradley simply grabs you by the hips and bottoms out inside you. Your face goes slack while your cunt tightens around his cock, and it blows his mind.
He starts out slow, torturously so. Stuffing himself inside your crevice and dragging himself out, willing you to feel every inch. Every ridge. Until your body loosens up and twists around in the throes of passion. Your mouth falls open, your little gasps and moans coming and going as he pleases.
The unhurried pace is nice for a few minutes, when you’re still adjusting to his size. But now that he’s snug inside you, you’re simply aching for more. Your hips arch up into him halfway, a little more urgent, disrupting the rhythm with a pleasant stutter.
He notices this and smiles. “So eager… what’s the rush, hm?”
You answer with a groan. He has a penchant for asking you questions you can’t answer, this man. “You feel so good, baby…” you murmur headily, hands desperately grasping on him—his arms, his shoulders, his back…
”You feel even better.” He nips at your pert nipple, relishing in your angelic little filthy cry. Fuck, he can feel the exact motion of your pussy tightening for him. “I’m not gonna last long if you keep doing that…”
”Then don’t.”
His eyes flicker onto yours immediately. You’re gonna be the death of him, he swears…
You grab his hair by the fistful, keeping his gaze. “I want to feel you come inside me.”
”Oh fuck—” he doesn’t stand a chance. His body reacts faster than his brain could compute, and he holds your hips flush against his as he buries himself as deep as he can. Every twitch of his cock sends you reeling, and your pussy clenches and unwinds in your climax, following him down from his high to yours.
Free falling, hand in hand.
Bradley rolls off of you and you would complain, if it weren’t for the way he immediately pulls you into his chest. Thank fuck. You’re not quite ready to untangle from him yet. Not when your breaths still run a bit ragged, as if accidentally catching each other’s. He presses a kiss to your forehead, and it feels unlike your regular out-of-town hookup. No, this one’s different. But not a word is said between you on that for different reasons— each of you holding your cards close to your chest, as close as you’re holding each other.
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thedroneranger · 1 year
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Centerfold
Jake "Hangman" Seresin
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Précis: Jake's favorite duo gifts him an anniversary surprise he'll cherish forever.
Note: An imagine in the To-Do List collection. This one is for @cherrycola27, who came screaming into my dms with this idea after reading Car Wash. 🖤
Third image is what I envisioned for the described panty-garterbelt combo. Courtesy of Honey Birdette.
Warnings: 18+ only, nudity, body parts, adult themes.
Word count: 1.1k
Jake hustled into the house, worried he was going to be late. Tossing his keys on the table in the entryway, he thudded up the stairs to the bedroom. As he crossed the threshold, he pulled his shirt over his head. Once he could see again, he stopped in his tracks. There, on his side of the bed, lay a neatly wrapped package. Curious, he walked over. 
As he approached, Jake read his name in her handwriting on the card tucked under the bow. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Jake pulled the package into his lap and unearthed the card. 
Enjoy. xo
He sat the card beside him and tugged the bow until it fell apart. Once the ribbon was off, he lifted the lid to find a square black leather book with “For your eyes only” debossed in the middle of the cover. He ran his hand across the small words and curled his fingers around the edge to open it.
The cover page read, “Happy anniversary.” A smile graced his lips as he flipped to the next page to see her leaning out the window of his 1967 Ford Mustang parked on a scenic cliff somewhere along the coast. Her chin rested on her haphazardly folded arms, and she was smirking into the camera. Jake loved everything about it.
His smile widened as he turned the page to see her in the first of several traditional pinup poses. 
She donned an open black bomber jacket that revealed just her sternum and the inner curve of her breasts. A gift from Jake to mimic his flight suit, it bore his squadron patches and a call sign patch that read “Mrs. Hangman.” She paired it with the most delicate black lace panties and garterbelt. Jake wasn’t sure how the belt was even holding up her stockings. She was perched on the hood of the car, legs on full display.
In the next photo, she was standing back to the camera, looking over her shoulder, clutching a soapy sponge against ‘Stang, the nickname they gave his vintage muscle car. A smirk curled Jake’s mouth as he noticed she was clad in the infamous black triangle bikini and high-waisted cutoff denim shorts.
The outfit took him back to the day he came home to find her washing ‘Stang in the driveway. His heart began to race as he thought about her riding his lap in the front seat parked in the garage. The mental replay had him shifting in his seat. For a minute, he tried to think about less sexy things to keep himself together. After all, he still needed to get ready for dinner.
Clearing his throat, he thumbed further through the montage, enjoying each pose of his favorite duo.
The upcoming page was thicker than the previous ones. Interest further piqued, he turned it to learn it was the middle of the book and folded out twice its size. 
“Holy…” he trailed off as he unfurled the centerfold to reveal her draped naked across the hood. ‘Stang’s shiny chrome grill with the iconic wild mustang galloping in the center was the least impressive part of the image. 
She was casual yet sultry with her elbows resting on the hood and her temple pressed against the knuckles of her interlaced hands as she stared at Jake from the page. Her biceps strategically covered her nipples, but left the bottom swells of her breasts exposed. Suddenly, Jake had cottonmouth.
When his gaze fell upon her barely parted pouty lips, he felt a sudden rush of blood to his lap. Her hair was also mussed just right and her skin had a certain glow, reminding him of how she often looked after they fucked.  
Next, he was drawn to the slope of her shoulders that led to her back then her waist and finally rolled up her perfectly shaped ass. The soft curves of her thighs trailed to the backs of her knees where her legs extended off the hood, jutting into toned calves and ending with perfectly pedicured toes. 
Jake’s fingers traced her figure on the page. His mind autofilling the feel of each curve.
“Do you like it?” Jake jumped up, nearly dropping the book. Instead, he caught it by the pages. Terrified, he inspected it and found no damage. Once he was sure his gift was ok, he looked at his wife in the doorway.
Immediately, he did a double take as she leaned against the door jamb, donning the bomber jacket outfit from the book.
She swaggered over to Jake, and together, they sat back down on the edge of the bed. She sidled up to him so she was pressed against his side, a hand planted behind him on the bed as Jake held the book in his lap. “We should look at the second half,” she added. 
Jake looked between her and the book. “Do we have time?” He was thinking about their dinner reservation.
Her smile said it all. She folded the pages back in, so they could browse the back half. “These are a little more intimate,” she added.
His mouth fell open as she flipped the page to reveal herself nude and laying upside down in the driver’s seat. Her forearms tastefully covered her breasts as her hands cupped her neck. Head hanging off the seat, her hair cascaded out the open door. Her long legs reached up to the ceiling, the balls of her feet anchoring her.
Mesmerized, Jake held the book as she reached across him to reveal another set of images. On the left, ‘Stang’s hood was open, and she was leaning into it with one leg popped. All her scandalous bits in shadow, but the lighting perfectly shone the silhouetted curves of her backside and supple breasts. 
On the right was a straight-on view of her wide hips, round ass and long legs as she leaned into the trunk. Of course, she was naked, but her core was shadowed perfectly to keep the image in good taste.
They finished the rest of the book, her flipping pages as Jake stared in awe. In his wildest dreams he had not thought about having a keepsake of professionally shot images of his wife and vintage car. 
She closed the book and slid it off his lap, revealing an impressive bulge. A smile pulled her lips as she looked up at him through her eyelashes. His green eyes were dark with lust. “We’re gonna have to skip dinner…” he trailed off, as she straddled his lap.
“That was the plan.” She smiled as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his.
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isoobie · 2 months
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moots and what they remind you of!
omg sorry this took so long 😢
@boyfhee / she reminds me of cats, bubble tea (even though she hates it), webtoons, kdramas, video calls, late night walks, shared playlists, making food together, baking, bsf tiktoks, sharing airpods, album unboxing, badminton, enoclock, heejay, mirror selfies, best friend dates, cute cafes & big fat HUGS
@weoris / she reminds me of cherry blossoms, spring, rain on a sunny day, ice creams, jungwon (of course 🤞🏻) & train rides !!!
@urszn / she reminds me of jelly 🫰🏻, dyed hair, field trips, sports day, filming funny tiktoks, mark lee n riki & curly haired guys
@voikiraz / mari reminds me of love hearts (the sweet), summer time, park sunghoon ur bf, the word pookie & funny reels
@hoonvrs / saint reminds me of coca cola, funny memes, relatable tiktoks, uncontrollable laughter, accidental voice calls (iykyk 🤞🏻) & HOON
@yeokii / hana reminds me of anyone but heeseung (jokes u remind me of hanni sm), the colour baby pink, angst fics 💔, discord, gaming, cheese corn dogs & floral perfume
@hysgf / mika reminds me of kiss of life, chaeryeong & heeseung, nude colours like beige grey n black, pinterest 👏🏻, black cats & madison beer
@okwonyo / jiji reminds me of mochi, pretty pink bows, compact mirrors, soft makeup, the colour pink <3, wonyoungism, pilates, wonyo & jake OF COURSE
@tyunni / may reminds me of skittles, riki obviously, yuqi + minnie, vintage cameras, sneaking out of lessons together 🙉 & theme park rides
@wonryllis / she reminds me of sweet drinks like milkshakes, halloween, late nights, tulips, the colour beige + purple, fantasy and historical webtoons, cyberpunk core, jungkook (your loml 🙈) & the city tokyo
@wvnkoi / seol reminds me of dancing competitions, fun days out, r&b rap music, mark lee n jaemin, the whole of zb1 n boys planet & the colour deep blue !!
@seongclb / kat reminds me of jayhoon SO MUCH, kdramas, big chunky black glasses, rap music, fluffy blankets 🤲🏻, teddy bears & an older sister!
@atrirose / seiu reminds of a pink girly, milkshakes, strawberries n cream, MINGYU, being a passenger princess 😾, barbie, banana bread & anything coquette !!!
@yenqa / yen reminds me of yunjin, nayeon + jay all combined into one, pretty nature, the colour lilac and sage, vanilla, bows, coquette fashion & stars
@100203s / chae reminds me of tall green plants, all the riize members, the colour green (a nice one like emerald) & wave to earth 🙈🙈
@jjunae / she reminds me of mocktails, summery fruits like watermelons and grapes, leehi the singer, yunjin n jongseob :D, cute decorative lamps & silly diy projects 🙌🏻
@bywons / sru reminds me of coffee, the colours light pink and light brown, seashells, quiet music, daffodils 🔥, JUNG WON (more than hee i think and maybe bc of ur user) & poetry
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coastalcassi · 2 months
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Yippie-Ki-Yay
coastalcassi
Summary:
Sirius likes to dress up and go to themed pubs… sue him. This one did NOT go as planned… but god he and James are NOT mad about it.
Or
Sirius and James go to a western bar dressed up and are PLEASANTLY surprised. You know what they say about taking someone’s cowboy hat…
Save a horse… ride a cowboy ;)
Chapter 1: I’m Gonna Getcha Good
Yippy-Ki-Yay blinks in neon red lights next to a cowboy boot on the sign overlooking the parking lot.
"Sirius... are you sure this is a western themed place? It looks like a normal pub."
"I’m telling you James! Online it said country western, line dancing, and The Rattle Snakes are performing tonight."
Sirius dismounts his vintage. motorcycle and takes off his helmet, shaking out his hair. He likes that his western outfit isn't far off from his regular leather look. Just more fringe to be honest, a black cowboy hat and red stars on his arse pockets which, to be frank, do wonders for him.
James on the other hand has gone a little more traditional cowboy. He has faded denim jeans on, a yellow button down and a red bandana tied around his neck. It suits him. He also adorns a dark brown hat and brown cowboy boots. His only stand out piece is a large gold belt buckle that had a horse in the middle framed by the words Ride a Cowboy. Cheeky son of a gun.
"I don't know Sirius..."
"Come on James! How bad can it be?!? Let's just… check it out! It's supposed to be queer friendly too! Pleeeeease?!?"
Sirius is bouncing up and down in front of James with his hands pressed together practically begging.
"Fine. Fine," James says, raising his hand in surrender.
"Yay!”
Both boys start to walk towards the door and can hear music playing inside. As they opened the door they can hear, "Welcome to the stage.... The Rattle Snakes," followed by loud cheers and clapping.
"We're just in time James! Let's go!" Sirius pulls James in quickly behind him not wanting to miss anything.
As soon as the boys are through the door they are met by a sea of flannel and regular looking men — though there IS still an abundance of cowboy boots present.
"Oh bullocks! Siriusly?!"
James' nose twitches as he tries to suppress a smirk at him being right on the money with the dress code. It's not Sirius' fault he likes to dress up and have fun so much. James' eyes scan over the crowd as “I'm Gonna Getcha Good” starts playing over the speakers. The spot light turns on and illuminates the performers and James — the poor lamb — has his breathe knocked out of him.
"Uggggg. I'm going over to the bar. I need a drink."
"Um — yeah ok. I'll — uh — meet you there."
James had already started making his way through the crowd, up to the very front of the crowd. The tips of his boots hit the stage and he can't get any closer. There are five performers on the stage in a V shape, 2 girls and 3 boys. Truly, all of them stunning, but standing in the middle is the most gorgeous creature James has ever seen.
His skin porcelain white and perfect, his grey eyes — a storm, his lips the perfect succulent pink, all framed by gorgeous dark curls. James has to swallow — HARD!
They’re all wearing all black with accents of black rattlesnake skin. Some of them have hints of green too. James' muse adorns a black button down with fringe going down the arms and across the back, but fuck, the lower James scans the more he has to fight to keep his jaw off the floor and stay composed as a gentleman should.
That slutty little waist is doing things for James. Across his waist is a belt with a large silver star buckle. He is wearing the equivalent to black briefs, smooth black silk, with black rattlesnake skin chaps falling down to black boots with a slight heel.
Oh god — James is going to keel over.
The performer’s eyes catch onto James and he smirks walking forward. He says "Lets Go" in time with the music and it becomes clear they are performing the song playing through the speakers. The other four performers starting their dance routine.
He won't free James from his grasp, his eyes fiery, unyielding, and ready to take James as his victim. This must be how snakes lure their prey James thinks.
"Don't wantcha for the weekend,
Don't wantcha for a night,
I'm only interested if I can have you for life, yeah”
Oh god he's singing — and doing truly provocative things… dance moves. God that waist! — what is James gonna do?!?
The lead walks to the edge of the stage and grabs James' hat putting it on his head. It doesn’t match his all black ensemble, but god does James like it. He then firmly grabs and tilts James’ chin up and winks. He turns and twirls back to the group.
Bloody hell. James' thoughts are intoxicated.
“So don't try to run, honey
Love can be fun
There's no need to be alone
When you find that someone”
The lead comes back towards James and extends his hand gesturing with his chin to the floor. James takes his hand and helps him down as the rest of the performers also leave the stage and dance through the crowd.
This creature is looking and singing to James.
"I'm gonna getcha while I gotcha in sight
(I'm gonna getcha) I'm gonna getcha if it takes all night
(Yeah, you can betcha) you can betcha by the time I say, "Go"
(I'm gonna getcha) you'll never say, "No"
James' heart is gong to explode as he watches this rattlesnake sing and dance through the crowd. He may be dancing for everyone but his eyes are never leaving James. God those eyes. James realizes he's been holding his breath and not breathing… that’s definitely a problem and he is DIZZY.
The performer comes back to James and places a hand on his chest, pushing him lightly backwards as he performs. James' calfs hit the stage and next thing he knows he is sat. A black boot (with silver stars and spurs, upon closer inspection) on his knee. His hands caress the leg as he leans down to place a kiss on the knee, His eyes looking up through his thick eyelashes.
“I'm gonna getcha, it's a matter of fact
(I'm gonna getcha) I'm gonna getcha, don't you worry 'bout that
(Yeah, you can betcha) you can bet your bottom dollar in time
(I'm gonna getcha) you're gonna be mine (I'm gonna getcha)
Just like I should, I'll getcha good”
A truly smug and satisfied smile spreading across the performer's face as he continues to sing and perform. He moves to James' side and uses his shoulder to boost himself back up on the stage.
James turns to see the performers coming back to a V on the stage. The lead, sings his last line:
“Oh, I'm gonna getcha good”
and the lights cut out.
Fuck — James HAS to know him. HAS to see him again.
"A five minute set break for the next performance. Meet our performers at the bar for a drink."
James doesn't have to be told twice. He hurries, weaving through the crowd to the bar. Everyone is there — even their guitarist — except the one James is dieing to touch again…
Disappointed James finds Sirius, who is chatting at the bar. The flirt can’t help himself.
"Pads. I’m hot. Going out for some air. Ok?"
"Yeah, sure Prongs. Want me to come with you?"
"Nah, I'll be back in a minute. Enjoy your drink and company." James nods to the man clearly flirting and providing Sirius with free alcohol.
James steps out the side door to the alley and leans against the cold brick wall. His lungs fill with cool air as his heart fills with dispair. The poor romantic thought that was love at first sight. God the song… the performance… James wants to go back and relive it. Over and over. It was PERFECT.
The smell of smoke hits his nose and he recognize the brand immediately as French. It has a very distinct smell he'd know anywhere cause they're Sirius’ favorite.
James turns and low and behold.... his rattlesnake is posted against the wall, smoke playing around his mouth. A french inhale… Fuck… Can he be ANY HOTTER?!?
James walks towards him and leans against the wall. The man doesn't look up. James clears his throat, "Um… hi."
"I'm on break."
"I know," James coughs," I went to the bar to meet you but you weren't there.”
The man looks up smirking at James, "Stalking me now sweetheart."
James' face flushes deep, from his hairline down his chest and he sputters.
The performer pushes off the wall to stand straight and crosses his arms over his chest, flicking his cigarette ash. He appraises James head to toe and cocks an eyebrow. "Did you — dress up?"
James chuckles and rubs the back of his neck," Uh, yeah, my mate — he thought it was western themed, like dress up."
The rattlesnake cocks his head to the side a little. “That’s quite a statement buckle.”
James looks down and then turns beet red again as he remembers what it says. He full on runs his hand through his hair. This is truly embarrassing all around.
The man’s eyes twinkle as he laughs and James realizes he has quite sharp teeth. Fitting, being that rattlesnakes have fangs. The rattlesnake waves his hand like he's clearing smoke. "Only the performers dress up."
"Yeah... I kinda got that, and thank god for it."
The man's eyebrows rise and his eyes narrow.
Fuck... did I say that out loud?!?
"I don't like being ogled at."
"I would’ve never guessed with that getup and how you move."
FUCK JAMES SHUT UP!
It’s silent for a moment while the man purses his lips and tilts his chin up. “I'm a performer. It's my job," he turns to move away and leave.
"Fuck, I'm sorry, I didn't it that way! Sometimes I say stupid things. That didn't come out right."
His rattlesnake waves him off still walking away, "That's the understatement of the night."
“Wait! Please?"
He stops and James sighs in relief.
"What do you want?" he asks, turning around. His face looking obviously displeased, and his eyes guarded.
James moves forward, coming right in front of him and kneeling on one knee on the gravel. He takes the man's boot and places it on his bent knee again. He looks up, "Time. Time with you. Please?" He looks up pleading as he bends to kiss the star's knee once more.
He looks down at James appraising him. Different emotions flickering through his eyes too fast for James to catch. Is he positioning to strike? He smirks after a moment. "You're a right git, You know that? and crazy."
"I know."
The corners of his mouth curls up slightly, "You can buy me a drink."
James beams up at him as he removes his foot from James' knee.
"What's your name?"
"Regulus."
"Regulus…”
James shakes his head and clears his throat TRYING to collect himself. “… in Rattlesnake skins… you look REALLY good in my hat."
Regulus smirks, “Slow down cowboy.”
James’ smile gets impossibly wider and he offers Regulus his arm to escort him back into the bar. He delights in a not quite hidden chuckle as Regulus takes it.
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dockofshame · 11 months
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Zoey x Reader x *Mike Relationship Headcanons
(*With a mention of the alters)
The three of you were already good friends from your time on Revenge on the Island, so the transition from friends to being significant others was pretty smooth. If you three have Facebook, all of you have your relationship statuses listed as “it’s complicated”.
Mike’s preferred dates are all over the map. He can have just as much fun at a theme park- Vito really liked the Hagrid’s Motorbike ride at Universal Studios- as he can at a sporting event or at an escape room… Manitoba really likes the escape rooms. Zoey’s preferred dates are pretty similar to what I mentioned in my Zoey x Reader headcanon list as she’s more into the vintage dates such as trips to a diner or going to the drive-in.
Zoey and Mike kept in touch with Cameron outside of the show, so he joins your hangouts sometimes too! They’re all huge Nintendo fans and all have Switches… Zoey likes Animal Crossing, Cameron likes Brilliant Diamond, and Mike likes the Zelda games. They also like Mario Kart and Mario Party.
Mike’s mostly pretty confident in himself in your relationship; thanks in part to Vito (“of course, why WOULDN’T these two want to be in a relationship with me?”). Zoey needs more verbal reassurance and has to be reminded that she doesn’t have to panic about trying to obtain your approval, or Mike’s for that matter.
With Zoey’s parents, there’s not really any formal “meet the parents”; they just suspect you all enjoy each other’s company and that when the time comes, Zoey will find her person. Mike’s parents catch onto the throuple thing pretty quickly but they’re very “don’t ask, don’t tell” about it.
Zoey would 100% be the person who got a Cricut and makes cutesy matching vacation shirts or ugly Christmas T-shirts (she can’t knit to save her life, so no sweaters), so she has tons of photos of the three of you in them. She also got you guys to dress up as the Avengers for Halloween one time; she wanted to be Black Widow.
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guerrerense · 6 months
Video
The Pioneer Tunnel Coal Mine:  Pennsylvania's other narrow gauge line
flickr
The Pioneer Tunnel Coal Mine: Pennsylvania's other narrow gauge line por Kevin Madore Por Flickr: Tucked away a few blocks from the center of the town of Ashland, PA is a little narrow gauge railroad that even some die-hard rail enthusiasts may not be aware of. Here, in the heart of Pennsylvania's anthracite country is a formerly active coal mine, which has been preserved as a museum. Known as the Pioneer Tunnel Coal Mine and Steam Train, this operation includes both an actual mine tunnel, which the public can tour and steam-powered mine railroad, which was formerly used to transport coal from the mine to a trans-load facility, where it would be hauled away by mainline railroads. The mine tour is a real eye-opener, which provides the visitor with a very realistic look at what life was (and is) like in a small coal mining operation. An electrically-powered mine locomotive takes visitors roughly 1,600 feet into the tunnel, which is 400 ft. below ground level, where tour guides with actual mining experience provide expert commentary. The tunnel has tight clearances and visitors will want to keep their hands and feet inside the train. The tunnel is braced with heavy timbers and condensation is everywhere. It's also quite chilly down there, with temperatures in the 40s even in mid-summer, so a sweater is definitely a good idea. It's probably not for folks with claustrophobia, but it sure leaves one with a new appreciation for a normal 9-5 job. Once you've experienced the mine tour, the train ride is a piece of cake. Pulled by a 42" gauge, 0-4-0, anthracite-burning, saddle-tanker, the train consists of re-purposed coal cars, with overhead awnings for passenger comfort. Although it looks like something from a theme park, the train is actually pretty authentic, aside from the protective awnings and the little caboose at the end. Locomotive #1, a 1925-vintage Vulcan, which powers the train, is currently the only operational steamer. Nicknamed "Henry Clay", it shares the engine shed with another, nearly identical locomotive, which is a long-term restoration project. The engines are sisters and were owned by William John Gilbert, who owned a small mining operation in Hazelton, PA in the early 1900s. The ride is roughly 3/4 mile in each direction and includes a tour of some strip mining facilities nearby.
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yeolsaintlaurent · 8 months
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Nocturnal Reverie ch.7 [PCY]
pairing - chanyeol x fem reader
genre - mature, smut, angst
themes - power imbalance, romance, crime, justice, class divide, politics, sex
synopsis - In the sprawling, dystopian city of Emberhaven, where power and corruption reign supreme, the lives of two unlikely individuals collide in a tale of passion, intrigue, and moral reckoning. Chanyeol, an enigmatic and wealthy scion of the city's elite, finds himself captivated by the elusive Y/N, a cunning and resourceful thief who navigates the treacherous underworld of Emberhaven. Their first encounter, sparked by a chance meeting in a luxurious club called The Velvet Lounge, sets the stage for a whirlwind romance amidst a backdrop of crime, politics, and danger.
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warnings - none for this chapter
A/N - a short, but very very important chapter that could bring answers or more questions. My darlings, here begins the rollercoaster ride, and I sure as hell would suggest you hang on tight - I know for a fact the characters are.
Chapter seven: Echoes of the Past
The rain had long ceased its relentless downpour, but the echoes of that fateful night still reverberated through Emberhaven. In the heart of the dystopian city, beneath the veil of darkness, Jongin paced his luxurious apartment, his mind consumed by thoughts of Y/N and the mysterious circumstances that had brought her to his doorstep.
The vintage jewelry that had once captivated his attention lay forgotten on a gleaming mahogany table. His usual charm had given way to a sense of unease, a feeling that the past and the present were inexorably linked. Jongin had always excelled in the art of deciphering rare gems and valuable artifacts, but the occurrences of the recent past remained a puzzle that defied easy solutions.
With each step he took, the polished oak floors of his mansion whispered secrets of his own past, a past that was inextricably tied to the tapestry of Emberhaven. It was a city where every story had hidden layers, where every alliance was tinged with the weight of unspoken truths. Jongin knew this all too well, and now.
As he navigated the room, his fingers idly traced the delicate lines of an antique vase, a relic from another era. The past had a way of coming back to haunt, and he couldn't shake the feeling that the events unfolding around Y/N were rooted in history that had long remained buried.
His thoughts turned to Y/N, her wounded figure etched in his memory. She had always been a survivor, a tenacious spirit who navigated the shadows of Emberhaven with grace and cunning. As he considered the life she had led, Jongin's mind drifted back to their shared history. Y/N had been a constant presence, a confidant he had known since childhood.
Y/N was more than just a friend to him. She was a connection to a past that Jongin had never truly left behind, a reminder of the bond they had formed in the midst of chaos and uncertainty. It was this bond that had led her to his hidden sanctuary that fateful night, and it was this bond that would now shape their future.
Y/N and Jongin - what seemed like an era ago:
The two had been best friends since childhood, their camaraderie dating back to the time when they were mere children, growing up in the same neighborhood. Both hailed from upper-middle-class families, their fathers sharing a peculiar professional bond. Y/N's father, an official in the tax department, was managed by Jongin's father, creating an odd symmetry between their lives.
Their mothers, housewives who found solace in each other's company, often cooked together, shared casserole recipes, and knitted side by side. These shared moments of laughter and domesticity became the foundation of a bond that would persist through the years.
As they journeyed through their formative years, Jongin and Y/N were inseparable. From attending the same schools to spending countless afternoons playing in the neighborhood park, their lives had been intertwined in the most intricate ways.
However, one fateful day, when Jongin was just twelve and Y/N nine, their idyllic world was abruptly disrupted. Jongin stumbled upon their fathers locked in a heated argument within his father's study. Y/N's father, typically composed, appeared visibly upset, while Jongin's father, usually stoic, was consumed by anger. The hushed, urgent words exchanged behind those closed doors left a profound impression on young Jongin, though he couldn't comprehend the details of the confrontation.
What he did understand, with startling clarity, was that something significant had occurred, something that would eventually sow the seeds of change.
Over the years, the bond between their families had frayed and distanced itself. The mothers' shared casserole dinners dwindled into silence, their knitting needles no longer clicked together in harmonious unison.
The once-frequent playdates and jovial outings became increasingly rare. When Jongin turned eighteen, their family decided to relocate to a more affluent neighborhood, leaving behind the place that had been their shared sanctuary. He transitioned to a private school, and with every passing day, the gulf between their families seemed insurmountable. However, despite the growing distance, the connection between Y/N and Jongin remained resilient, their bond untainted by the passage of time.
But the idyllic moments of their childhood soon gave way to an unforeseen tragedy when they were both twenty. It was a day that would shatter the innocence they had clung to for so long, casting a long and shadowy pall over their once-unbreakable friendship.
Present time - six blocks apart :
As the present moment converged with the echoes of the past, the sleek surroundings of Jongin's apartment carried the weight of silence. Not too far away, the passage of time had not dulled the embers of curiosity and suspicion that smoldered within Chanyeol's inquisitive mind. At the precipice of a crucial discovery, Kyungsoo had just sent a file, meticulously detailing Jongin's history, to Chanyeol's phone.
Chanyeol, ensconced in his in-home sauna, basked in the comforting warmth, clad in nothing but a towel. The rhythmic hum of his surroundings offered a brief escape from the tumultuous city outside, a temporary respite from the mysteries that clouded his thoughts. Just as he was on the verge of relaxation, the unexpected vibration of his phone disrupted his reverie.
Opening his eyes, Chanyeol reached for his phone, curiosity piqued. The text from Kyungsoo contained a file on Jongin, and the words on the screen were enough to stir his restful reprieve. "He seems pretty dodge, but no convictions at all. His file is clean. Still, hope you find what you are looking for, Yeol", reads the text.
His eyes scanned the message, detailing Jongin's perceived shadiness and the absence of any convictions on his record. Chanyeol's mind raced as he contemplated Kyungsoo's findings, the shadows of doubt casting a pall over his thoughts.
Quickly thumbing a response, Chanyeol expressed his gratitude for Kyungsoo's diligence. "Thank you, bro," he typed, his message resonating with the sincerity of camaraderie. The implications of the information contained within the file began to take hold, and his curiosity had turned into a relentless pursuit of the truth.
Just as he opened the file, another text came in from Kyungsoo. It read “Oh shit, almost forgot, he goes by an alias - Kai, if that means anything to you”. And it did. An unsettling familiarity unfurled before him.
Jongin's full name and old photographs were etched into the document, harkening back to a past Chanyeol had long since buried beneath layers of uncertainty. The alias also served to send a sudden jolt of remembrance, his eyes shot open in realization, the sauna's serenity giving way to the throes of recollection.
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head-vampire · 1 year
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Mine of Lost Souls dark ride at Canobie Lake Park
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moonshinemagpie · 8 months
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Things you can do for Halloween that aren’t parties, costumes, or trick-or-treating.
I always get asked why I love Halloween so much when I don’t do any of the three things people associate with the holiday. So, depending on your location, you can also:
Visit a pumpkin patch
Go on a hay ride (haunted or not!)
Go on a ghost walk 
Go to a doggy Halloween parade 
Go to a regular Halloween parade
Get lost in a dang corn maze
Paint/carve a pumpkin
Paint pumpkins with a child you love!
Watch Halloween special cartoons
Watch horror movies
Read spooky/horror books
Read scary stories aloud with your friends
Bake Halloween-themed goodies
Invite your friends to come to a nighttime gathering (at your house or a park, etc) and tell each other scary stories. Tip from experience: Make it clear in your invitation whether you want people to bring “true” or fictional stories. People who believe in ghosts and people who do not believe in ghosts are looking for very different experiences, so I don’t recommend mingling the two (again, based on experience).
Start a Halloween-themed book club just in Sept/Oct. Read books like Kiki’s Delivery Service, Frankenstein, or Ring Shout together.
Or join the Shirley Jackson book club
Take free/affordable horror writing classes through Clarion West
Support indie artists who make spooky art. I for one am super excited about Kaylee Rowena’s October postcard for Patreon supporters. Last year I got prints from Little Spooky Studio. 
Listen to Halloween-y podcasts, like American Hysteria’s one on Haunted Attractions, or why millennials love Halloween.
Listen to the BBC's Twilight Zone radio dramas
Watch Halloween ASMR videos, like this one where the ASMRtist reads Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark, or this one where a dream potion is brewed, this one with vintage Halloween decorations, or this one where Ms. Latte is a witch
Novelty Halloween music?? Yeeeeah booiiiii
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hauntedmeadcw · 14 days
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˚⋆𓇼˚⊹ 𖦹 ⁺。° hilarie burton, ciswoman, she/her ˚⋆𓇼˚⊹ 𖦹 ⁺。° “ heads up ; if you her RHIANNON by FLEETWOOD MAC blaring, it’s most likely LYDIA BEAUMONT making their way down the shore ! they’re 42 years old and celebrate their birthday on 12/4 - i knew they were a SAGITTARIUS ! especially since they’re very OPTIMISTIC and NAIVE. they are from SALEM, MASSACHUSETTS, staying in NORTH BEACH and are currently working as an OWNER OF THORN MAGIC SHOP, here at asbury park. They always did remind me of the smell of sage, layered maxi skirts swirling in the wind, and crystals charging under the full moon. “
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. MORE INFORMATION BELOW
BASICS:
Name: Lydia Alison Beaumont
Nicknames: Lyd, Lydie (only by her grandmother)
Date of Birth: December 4th 1981
Zodiac Sign: Sagittarius
Nationality: American
Ethnicity: White
Place of Birth: Salem, Massachusetts
Gender: Ciswoman
Pronouns: She/her
Sexuality: Lesbian
Languages: English, Latin
Family: Alexander Beaumont (father - deceased), Hannah Thorn (mother - deceased), Alison Thorn (grandmother - deceased), daughter (tbd)
Occupation: Owner of Thorn Magic Shop
PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION:
Height: 171cm.
Weight: 132lbs.
Hair: Gray hair, just past her shoulders. Lydia's natural hair is curly, but she often straightens it, or uses a curling iron to create softer waves. Her hair is mostly down, or pinned back, but when at home, Lydia opts for tying her hair into a bun
Eyes: Hazel
Physical Description: Average height, slim. Lydia stays in shape with yoga, but often goes days without working out
Typical Clothing/Equipment: Lydia has always been into smart, casual and feminine. She adores muted, earthy colours and floral patterns. Her favourite outfit is usually a long skirt matched with a tucked in sweater. She thrives off thrifting and so most of her wardrobe is filled with old and vintage items. Gold jewellery is a must have, more subtle the better. She loves to be comfortable while still looking put together. Matching pj sets are her thing, the cuter the better. She is often seen with a crystal hanging from her neck, which changes due to her needs and wants of that day.
PERSONALITY/ATTRIBUTES:
Personality/Attitude: Lydia is a smart, spiritual, and well mannered woman. She is strong and independent, often struggling to rely on others when needed. She is a workaholic and is the type to stay behind after hours once the store is closed. She thrives on conversations and will often talk about any subject that is presented to her, if you ever need to talk to someone then she is definitely your woman. Lydia is a little more laidback then she first comes across, she just struggles sometimes to let her hair down. She's passionate about the things she loves and it can often take all of her attention from other things. She is the type that once she starts a job, she will follow it through until it's finished. Often hyper-fixating for days. She thrives on making others happy and will eagerly do what she can to put smile on their faces. Lydia is a huge advocate for the younger generation and due to her strong maternal instincts, often finds herself the go to for those needing advice
Skills/Talents: Casting spells, making potions, business running, cooking, baking
Favourites/Likes: Farmer's markets, flowers, wicca, summer time, honesty, books, gardening, antiques, red wine, sound of ocean waves, giving gifts
Most Hated/Dislikes: Surprises, animatronics, sports, snakes, pettiness, feel of velvet, theme park rides, rude people
Goals/Ambitions: To hopefully one day open a community centre near her shop for the younger generation to hang out and engage in community activities together
Positive traits: Optimistic, lover of freedom, hilarious, fair-minded, honest, intellectual, spontaneous, fun, inspiring
Negative traits: Bored easily, commitment-phobe, cold, naïve, tactless, pretentious
Fears: Losing another loved one, being a failure
Hobbies/Interests: Reading, baking, crocheting, hiking, collecting art, gardening, yoga, thrifting
Sexual Preference/Experience/Values: Lydia came out as a lesbian pretty early on in her life. She has only ever been involved with feminine presenting people. Lydia has only had a few serious relationships in her life, but has always been the one to end things. This was due to being independent and scared of committing to someone. Lydia is fearful of people leaving her and so will cut ties before she can be hurt
Education/Special Training: Lydia was home schooled by her grandmother, mainly focusing on wiccan practises and life lessons
Past Occupations: Lydia has only ever worked at the magic store that her grandmother owned. When her grandmother died, Lydia took over as the owner and has still worked there every since
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HEADCANONS: - tw: death, guns, illness
Lydia was born an only child to Alexander and Hannah in Salem. Her family had always been small, consisting of only her, her parents and her maternal grandmother, Alison. She comes from a long line of wiccans, on her mother's side.
When she was born, her parents had decided not to raise Lydia as Wiccan, mainly due to her father not liking it. They wanted Lydia to have a normal life and not grow up with her head in the clouds like her grandmother, as her father would always say. This caused a riff between her parents and her grandmother and due to that Lydia never knew her grandmother when she was younger. As when she was a baby, her parents moved to Asbury.
At the age of eight, Lydia's parents were killed. The police claimed it was a shooting that her parents unfortunately got into the middle of. This was the first time that Lydia met her grandmother, since she was the only living relative that the young girl had and the older woman was more than happy to become the legal guardian of her granddaughter.
So once all the legal stuff was done, Alison moved to Asbury in order to raise her granddaughter. Alison would have preferred to take Lydia back to Salem with her, but with the young girl having her life in Asbury, she didn't want to cause her anymore stress.
It didn't take long for Alison to start teaching Lydia all about Wiccan practices, even going as far as pulling Lydia out of school in order to home school her. Lydia became fascinated with magic very quickly, using it as a great distraction as she mourned the loss of her parents. She would spend most nights hiding under her bedsheets, reading all about magic, casing spells, making potions, healing crystals, and all the Wiccan holidays.
Lydia spent a lot of her time helping her grandmother out at the magic store she owned, cleaning the shelves and putting away stock, but mainly she curled up in the corner reading.
As she got older, Lydia became a full time employee at the magic shop, as well as practicing wiccan with her friends, creating their own coven. It was at this point that she became interested in dating, however no woman she brought home was good enough for her and she began to feel like her grandmother was scared of letting Lydia leaving. It didn't help that Lydia herself was scared of the large commitment that came with dating.
Lydia spent her twenties still working for her grandmother, which helped her pay for her car as well as other adult responsibilities. When she wasn't working, Lydia was busing herself with friends and hobbies.
In her early twenties, Lydia became a godmother to her best friend's daughter, who she completely doted on. However, when the baby was only six months old, her best friend fell ill and only a year later she died. With the father out of the picture, and no other living relatives, as the godmother, Lydia adopted the baby.
Lydia raised the young girl as her own with the help of her grandmother. As soon as the young girl was old enough to understand, Lydia made sure to tell her she was adopted and all about her birth mother.
At thirty, Lydia's grandmother died from old age, leaving everything she owned to Lydia, including the shop.
Currently, Lydia still lives in the house she grew up in and running the shop her grandmother started. She's well loved within the community and does whatever she can to give back and help out.
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CONNECTIONS:
THEODORE JONES - nephew (not biological)
WES EVANS - family friend
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