#1996 Sneakers
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RETRO DROP: Deion Sanders’ Nike Air Diamond Turf Max ‘96, Officially Returns // Bucky’s ‘Well Off’ Is A Vibe // Sha’Carri Comes For Olympic Medal // Fro Butter for Hair Growth, Loc Setting & more
#urbanfashionsense#urban fashion sense#fashion#sneakers#sneakerhead#Nike Air Diamond Turf '96#Throwback#Retro Kicks#Sneakers#1996 Sneakers#shop#hip hop#Diamond Turf Max#Deion Sanders#Well Off#sha'carri richardson#Sports#Running Shoes#Athletes
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Sneaker Pimps 6 Underground promo CD Spain 1996 (x)
#sneaker pimps#6 underground#trip hop#acid jazz#1996#proto y2k#y2k#y2k aesthetic#compact disc#y2kcore#cybercore#gen x soft club#90s aesthetic#90s music#90s alternative#x
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Nike Air Footscape
#Nike Air Footscape#Nike Footscape#Footscape#Air Footscape#Nike Sneaker#Sneaker#Sneakers#Nike#1996#96#90s#90s Sneaker#Sneaker AD#AD
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sneaker pimps - tesko suicide [x]
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#Vans#Quim Cardona#Vans Half Cab#Half Cab#Vans Skate#Vans Skateboarding#Off The Wall#Vans Off The Wall#1996#World Famous#Transworld#Skate#Skateboarding#96#90#90s#Vans Sneaker#Vans Classic#Vans Classics#Photography#Scene#Vans Sneakers#Sneakers#Sneaker
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nike air rift ༉‧₊˚.
#nike#nike shoes#womens shoes#shoes#nike air rift#nike ninjas#aestethic#1996#90s aesthetic#90s shoes#sneakers
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1996-ERA SNEAKER PIMPS WERE:
Kelli Dayton − vocals, guitars
Chris Corner − guitars, keyboards
Liam Howe − production, keyboards, guitars, drums, samples, percussion, programming
PIC(S) INFO: Spotlight on Kelly Dayton (not yet "Kelly Ali") being a lovable goofball when she was still a member of English electronic music group/trip-hop band SNEAKER PIMPS, c. mid '90s.
Source: www.last.fm/tr/music/Sneaker+Pimps/+images/531140030d6126ef03098d606a322aa1.
#SNEAKER PIMPS#SNEAKER PIMPS 1996#90s#Chris Corner#Liam Howe#Electronic Music#90s fashion#SNEAKER PIMPS Becoming X#Becoming X 1996#90s Style#Kelli Ali#1990s#1996#Becoming X#90s girls#Street Style#SNEAKER PIMPS band#1997#Photography#90s Music#Kelli Dayton#Hair and Makeup#90s glamour#SNEAKER PIMPS 1997#Trip-hop#Fashion#Urban Style#Feminine beauty#Female beauty
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#sneaker pimps#becoming x#waterbaby#trip hop#trip-hop#downtempo#electronica#electronic music#electropop#music#music post#u#von-vom#1996#90s#Bandcamp
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Sneaker Pimps - 6 Underground
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"PIMPS WITH PUMPS..."
PIC INFO: Spotlight on English trip-hop/electronic music group, SNEAKER PIMPS. 📸: Rob Hann.
NME: "WHO ARE THEY?Reading/Birmingham-based five-piece: SNEAKER PIMPS.
WHAT DO THEY SOUND LIKE? Bit of a tricky one, that. Kind of PJ Harvey meets twisted trip-hop for the most part. And yet, while there nothing wantonly eclectic about them, they're also prone to heading off on drum 'n' bass-backboned riffumongous rock and funky abstractions."
WHO'S IN THE BAND? There's singer Kelli Dayton, once of shouty punk outfit The Lumieres, Joe Wilson on bass, Dave Westlake on drums, and founder members Chris Corner (guitar) and Liam Howe (synths), the latter pair also being noted for their remix work as LINE OF FLIGHT. And just to prove they're well-connected, studio guru Flood has collaborated with them in a co-production capacity."
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NME - The Drugs Issue - 15 Feb, 1997
#SNEAKER PIMPS#Trip-hop#Magazines#NME#New Musical Express#90s#Electronic Music#Becoming X 1996#Chris Corner#Kelli Dayton#Liam Howe#SNEAKER PIMPS 1997#1997#90s Style#90s fashion#90s Music#Magazine#Becoming X#1996#Hair and Makeup#1990s
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Teens work out free all Summer
Jakob was done. The day had been exhausting. And somehow he couldn't cope with two or three exhausting days in a row as well as he used to. He was now 27 years old, his 28th birthday was only a few weeks away and the days when Jakob had been described as sporty were long gone. Even during his studies, he had spent less time at the gym or in the swimming pool than when he was at school and the slight tummy bulge with which he had accepted his master's degree and started his career had developed into a veritable paunch. Climbing stairs? Only in an emergency… Walking or cycling? What were cabs for… Jakob was done and he knew why.
It was trade fair in the city. The last one before the summer break. The hotels were full, you couldn't get a table in the restaurants and there were no cabs to be had either. So Jacob bit the bullet and walked to the nearest bus stop. Sweat was pouring down his forehead. And there he saw this sign: “Teens Workout Free All Summer”. Sure, he was no longer a teen. But he also earned enough money to afford a gym. All he had to do was sign up. Just for the summer. Since he didn't have any school-age children, he didn't have his vacation until mid-September. What was the worst that could happen? He could lose a few kilos and cut a better figure in the late summer sun on the Croatian coast. “I'll sign up first thing tomorrow,” Jacob thought to himself. And then it hit him. "Shit, don't keep putting it off, I'll sign up now. Now and immediately. And if they have a store for gym gear, I'll start training today."
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It was hot in the gym. The place was obviously not air-conditioned. It smelled of sweat and sneakers. It smelled like the changing rooms in the schools gym earlier. Loud music blared from the speakers. The reception and training area merged seamlessly. The monotonous sound of people on treadmills and the groaning of people lifting iron was mixed into the booming music, occasionally interrupted by the sound of dumbbells falling into the rack or onto the floor. This was certainly not the kind of gym Jacob wanted to work out in. He was almost on his way out again when the lad behind the counter approached him. “Hi bro! Are you here for our summer offer?” Jacob said that he was here for a membership, yes. But not for the offer. ‘Why not, bro? My name is Liam, by the way. And you are?’ ‘Jacob,’ Jacob introduced himself. ‘Cool thing, bro! Don't worry, we'll get you in shape here.’ Jacob thought for a moment. Of course he would make a fool of himself here among all the beefcakes, but better here in front of people he didn't know than in some stylish gym where customers, colleagues or neighbors would make fun of him.
Liam was already hammering away at his keyboard. “So, your name is Jake. What's next?” “Jacob,” Jacob corrected. “Goldsmith” “Smith, Jake Smith. Your birthday?” Jacob wanted to correct Liam first, but maybe a pseudonym wasn't wrong. “August 12, 1996.” “Bro, I'll put in August 12, 2006,” Liam said with a wink. “Nobody checks here anyway. And I get a commission when I sign contracts for the summer offer.” Address? Jacob was just about to give his address when he thought to himself that he was here anonymously or under a pseudonym. So he gave the address of his parents' house, where they had all lived when he was at school. His parents had sold everything last year and moved to Provence, but as Liam said, no one would probably check it. “Please be so kind,” said Liam. Jacob looked surprised at a flash of light. And a few seconds later, a plastic card came out of the printer. His membership card, his ticket back to a life where climbing stairs wouldn't lead to panting and sweating. “Because it's your birthday in the summer, you get a water bottle and the water flat rate. Do you also want the protein shake flat rate? It's on special offer today. 20 pounds a month, 50 pounds for June, July and August together.” Jacob nodded and asked if he could also buy something to wear here. “That's my lad,” said Liam with a grin. “Get started right away, no hesitation, very good. No, you can't buy anything, but there's a treasure trove at the back. Just take what you need. I'll let Colin know in the meantime, he can show you around and show you everything.
Slightly disgusted, Jacob went to the corner with the lost-and-found treasure trove. It was obviously a source of odour. But it was surprisingly neat. Shoes, shorts, tank tops… Everything was neatly sorted by size. Only the socks were in a big box. It took Jacob a few minutes to find a pair. And while he was looking, he heard a throat clearing behind him. “So you're Jake, the new guy?” Jacob turned around, startled. Behind him stood a mountain of a man. Probably his age. Maybe a few years older. But someone who had never skipped chest or leg days. Never in his life. He obviously didn't take his personal hygiene that seriously. Colin was smelly. Jacob pulled himself together. “Jake, nice to meet you. You must be Colin.” “You can be sure of that! And now stop making a fashion show out of it.” Colin unerringly grabbed a tank top, shorts, shoes and even a matching pair of socks. And a jockstrap. He stuffed everything into a rucksack. Jacob shuddered. “The changing room is over there. Don't look for girls and boys, it's a lads only place here. Hurry up, we should allow two and a half hours for a training session." Jacob was beginning to feel sure he had made a mistake. Okay, at worst he had lost 50 pounds… But it was a mistake.
There were no cubicles in the changing room, no lockers. Things went on open racks. Shoes and bags on benches or on the floor. There was no one around. Only by the sinks was a lad, maybe 16 years old, showing off his enviably fit body in front of the mirror. Jacob sighed. He'd looked something like that when he was 16. He undressed and put on the unwashed clothes that Colin had stuffed into his bag. He looked in the mirror. He looked silly. He was wearing the washed-out clothes of an obviously much more muscular man… The shorts were too tight. The tank top too loose. The socks had holes in them. But at least the shoes fitted. Jacob sighed. And the torture on the dumbbells began.
Colin hadn't given him puppy protection. Colin had worked out with him as if they were training partners. Of course, he had reduced the weights for Jacob. But when Jacob couldn't do any more, he had shouted at him. Four more, three more, two more… Somehow Jacob had always managed the last repetition. The two of them were the last ones in the gym. Liam had already called it a day. Colin gave Jacob a fist bump. “Good training, mate! You've got bite and talent. You'll be something!“ Jacob would have blushed if his head hadn't been glowing anyway. ‘By the way,’ said Colin. ‘Hot water is turned off after 10 p.m. You can take a cold shower. Or…’ ‘I'll take the ’or',” Jacob chastised and grinned. He went into the changing room and packed his clothes from the office into his rucksack. He walked to the bus stop with the last of his strength. The city was full of fairgoers. Some raised their eyebrows in pique. Yes, he had to stink. But he had to get home now. He didn't care about anything else.
When the alarm clock woke him up at 06:00, he felt like everything was gone. He had fallen asleep sitting on his bed. He had just managed to undress. His office clothes were still in his rucksack. His sports kit was scattered on the floor. And he had slept half-sitting, half-asleep on his bed. In a puddle of sperm. Because he had obviously had at least one wet dream. And his morning wood was already standing at attention again. Jacob started to jerk himself off. Damn, did his cock feel good. Jacob smelled his own cold sweat. He smelled male. And he had a hard-on. He had smegma under his foreskin. Just like when he wasn't so serious about personal hygiene at school. He smelled his hand. Damn, that smelled like youth and manhood… And at that moment he came. He cummed all the way up to his chin, even though he had obviously emptied his balls at least once tonight. Shit, he thought to himself, breathing heavily… The training is paying off. As exhausted as I am, I'm more agile than I've been at any point in the last ten years.
Jacob went into the kitchen and stirred protein powder into his cottage cheese. He didn't question where the protein powder and cottage cheese came from. He drank two bottles of water because he felt completely dehydrated. He wolfed down his breakfast and made himself five more scrambled eggs. And another protein shake. Shit, he was starving. And late. He jumped into the shower. He didn't take a really thorough shower. He didn't shave either. He emptied out his rucksack on the floor and stuffed yesterday's clothes, which were still damp with sweat, into it. His bus was leaving in ten minutes. He had to walk. Cardio was never his thing. He was more of a weightlifting man.
He got lots of compliments in the office. He was told he looked fresh. He was told he'd lost weight. He looked younger. But he also got a few unpleasant questions. What was so smelly here. The old rucksack was standing next to his desk. And it stank. Jacob simply ignored the questions about the rucksack. He felt fit and full of energy. For lunch, he had a salad with three turkey breasts. His colleagues looked at him questioningly. “Mass phase,” he said apologetically, chewing with his mouth full.
Today was leg day. Colin had told him that he should allow three hours for warming up, stretching and maybe a bit of fitness training if he was serious. And Jacob was serious. He finished his work very punctually. Unusual for someone who was always the last one. Yes, he was on the verge of promotion, but his fitness was important to him. As soon as he entered, he pulled the access card out of his wallet. He looked at the photo with a grin. He was 23 on it, that was two years ago. What a slim man he had been then… Liam greeted him with a fist bump. Colin could be heard grunting from the chest press throughout the hall. Jacob greeted his bros as he entered the changing room. It was busy. Of course, most of the people here were still at university, unemployed or tradesmen who had already started work at 06:00 in the morning. There were few armchair farters like him here. But that didn't matter to him. Today, all that mattered was the weight on the leg press. And how much protein he could swallow from his flat rate. Protein and the leg press was a toxic combination. But protein farts didn't bother anyone here. They were part of the workout. And when he finally left the gym with Colin at around 11 p.m., there were a lot of protein farts in the air. Neither Colin nor Jacob had been bothered by that during the final cardio workout. Damn it, how could a beefcake like Colin be so limber!
His morning routine was well established. Alarm clock at 05:30. Sit-ups and press-ups. Breakfast, running gear on, run to the office, shower there, and be at his desk by 08:00. Sitting was the new smoking, he hated it. Jake was 22, he had just finished his bachelor's degree and as a trainee he couldn't afford to make any mistakes. His colleagues knew after a few days that he was a fitness junkie. The carefully labeled Tupperware containers spoke for themselves. Jake had to eat something every two hours. His trainer had told him to. Jake had been an ambitious bodybuilder since the age of 16. His tight ass and broad shoulders showed this even when he was wearing a suit. And many of his female colleagues and even some of his male colleagues appreciated the fact that Jake always wore tight and crisp-fitting suits.
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This afternoon was going to be an ordeal for Jake. He had promised Liam that he would take over the shift from 21:00. If he wanted to work out properly before then, he had to get off work at 5:00 p.m., 5:30 p.m. at the latest. The meeting went on and on. Jake looked nervously at his mobile again and again. At 5:15 p.m., over an hour later than planned, it was finally over. Jake breathed a sigh of relief. And then his boss asked Jake and two colleagues to stay for the minutes and the upcoming tasks. FUCK! He should have accepted Colin's offer and taken over the management of the gym after graduation. But his tutor at university had convinced him that auditing was his future. Holy shit. Now he'd have to skip cardio training.
05:30. Damn, that was early. But Paul, his roommate, was obviously already awake and seemed to be making breakfast in the kitchen. Yes, Jake was actually disciplined. Otherwise you didn't stand a chance when studying at the sports college. But at least sleep until 06:00 for once, he thought to himself… While he did his burpees to wake up. Paul was Liam's little brother. The two had met at the gym last summer. And Liam and Paul had convinced Jake to study sports economics. He had never regretted his decision. If only because sharing a flat with Paul was a cool thing. The two of them constantly motivated each other. And they also fucked each other from time to time. Hey, tighter asses were hard to find on the whole campus! Today was mostly sports on the timetable. Just one statistics lecture. It wasn't worth changing for that. Jake enjoyed riding his road bike to campus in just shorts and a cut-off tank top. And if the clothes weren't freshly washed, they were at least aired out by the breeze. Of course, the business students sitting in the statistics lecture would get upset about the smelly sports economists again. But hey, Jake already knew the game. It wouldn't be the first time one of these Oxford-shirt-wearing snobs would follow him to the toilet after the lecture and lick his hairy armpits. And it wouldn't be the first time he'd take someone home for a shag or join the gym as a new member. The first was fun, the second earned him a small commission.
“Jake, my darling! It's time to get up!” His mother looked into Jake's teenage room. His bed had already been made. Jake stood behind his mother in sweaty running clothes and quietly went “Boo!” His mother winced. Jake deliberately hugged her tightly so that his sweat made her nightgown damp. “Honey, when did you get up? It's the middle of the night!” Jake replied that he still had body fat to lose before his first amateur competition this weekend. He pulled off his wet running jersey and did a double bicep pose. “Jake, more important than losing body fat would be a shower.” his mother laughed. “Fuck, mom, I'm late. And by the time I've ridden my bike to school, I'll be sweaty again anyway.” “Don't talk back, otherwise there'll be no breakfast.” The threat worked. Jake reluctantly trotted into the shower and his mother prepared his ten-egg omelette.
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A poster announcing the national bodybuilding championship hung above the reception desk. With local hero Jake Smith as the favorite in the juniors. You could find those posters everywhere in the neighbourhood. Jake was somehow a local hero. Liam greeted the studio's up-and-coming star with a fist bump. Male rituals. Jake enjoyed that. He wasn't turning 18 for a few days, but here he felt like a full-fledged man. Liam said that ten new members had signed up to the teen-working-out-for-free-in-the-summer promotion last week alone. And eight said they had come to the gym because of Jake's fitness channel. Jake should get in touch with Colin and there would be a special bonus. Hehehe, thought Jake. That could be an extra 50 pounds. Or a shot of extra protein from Colin's cock. With a bit of luck, both. But Jake wasn't greedy. Either would be enough for him.
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Inspiration by @olivierlefou, pic by @ki-kink
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ kildare killer
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{a/n: happy halloween! this was purely self indulgent but i hope you like it anyways! thanks for helping me with the suggestions of what rafe and sofia would dress up as! it helped a lot! this isn’t canon rafe, sofia and barry (since the writers decided to pretend barry doesn’t exist this season) but rather them from the world of my fic ‘ephemeral’ on ao3. if you haven’t read that, there will be a couple references you won’t get but it’s not important! anywhooo i hope u enjoy!}
{summary: rafe and sofia decide to spend halloween at barry’s trailer, where spookiness ensues}
⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾
It was Halloween in the Outer Banks and Sofia wanted to dress up, much to Rafe’s dismay. He’d let her choose the costume (after he’d suggested her be a playboy bunny and him be Hugh Hefner to which she slapped him across the arm), so she finally settled on Romeo and Juliet from the 1996 movie.
Descending from the swirling staircase at Tannyhill, Sofia hitched her flowing white dress up, her straightened hair falling just past her décolleté, feathery angel wings adorning her shoulder blades and her face shimmering with silvery glitter.
Rafe had put to use the suit of armour gathering dust in the hall, wearing the arm plates and chain mail along with his jeans and regular sneakers. He waited by the door for Sofia to get ready, impatiently tapping his foot feeling stupid in the costume. It was Halloween. That meant parties, drinking, getting wasted– not looking like a lanky tin man.
They were meant to be heading to Topper’s for his (in his own words) legendary Halloween rager. But Rafe wanted to stop by Barry’s first (he’d promised Kelce some weed). Although with the way Sofia was taking her time, maybe he’d have to skip the trip.
“Sof! How long you gonna be?” He called, swivelling around, his words cut short when he saw her float down the mahogany steps like a literal angel.
“Sorry! Had a bit of trouble getting the wings on.” She apologised, nearing him with a resplendent smile. Rafe just about managed to stop his jaw dropping.
“Wow…you look…beautiful.”
Sofia’s face lit up with joy, casting her in an even more heavenly glow.
“You don’t look too bad yourself Romeo.” She teased, nudging him gently. “It’s still crazy to me you just had a suit of armour just lying around– that’s like the kookiest thing I’ve ever heard of.”
“Oh shut up and come on, we’re already late.” Rafe wanted to throw an arm around her but the angel wings were in the way, so he opted to just slide a hand around her waist.
“You don’t mind if we make a stop at Barry’s do you?” He asked as they got into the car.
“Oh please, I don’t even want to go to Topper’s party, I just wanted a reason to dress up. And besides, I haven’t seen Barry in ages, I miss him.”
Rafe grumbled in the drivers seat, the annoyance at Sofia and Barry’s little friendship returning.
She just laughed, finding it funny to rile him up. “Rafe come on, you’re friends so why can I be his friend too?”
“You’re my friend– not his.”
“Oh so we’re friends now?”
“You’re not acting very angelic you know?”
“And you’re not acting very chivalrous.”
The continued to bicker playfully as they drove down to Barry’s trailer, Rafe’s eyes continually straying from the road just so he could see Sofia gleam in the half-darkness in the car, looking like a seraphic vision of beauty. On second thoughts, he didn’t mind the costume after all.
⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾
Sofia stepped out the car, the long grass ticking her feet, the sandals she was wearing not suitable for the switchgrass and weeds.
It was a strange feeling being back in the same place she was nearly kidnapped in, but oddly nostalgic too. There was something intoxicating about the warm light flooding out of Barry’s trailer, the smell of the sweet vernal grass faint in the air and the steady hum of the breeze and chirp of the crickets that evoked a stirring in her heart.
But this time there was the added smell of smoke, crackle of embers, and a heady glow emanating from behind Barry’s trailer that wasn’t there before.
Rafe and Sofia followed the floating ashes, to see Barry lounging in a lawn chair. He was nursing a fire that rose from an old steel drum, the ribbons from the joint he was smoking mixing with the thick plumes from the flames.
“Country club and Dora!” He yelled as a greeting, getting up out of the chair. Sofia rolled her eyes playfully at his nickname for her, poking fun at her inquisitive nature. Barry’s face grew in his signature smirk, golden tooth flashing in the firelight.
“Hey Barry,” Sofia smiled, as he grabbed her hand and held it up in the air, swirling her around in circle.
“Dora all dolled up huh?” She laughed as he wolf whistled, Rafe once again bristling in annoyance beside them.
“Ok ok that’s enough,” he tugged at Sofia’s wrist possessively.
“Romeo and Juliet huh? Didn’t know you were into Shakespeare Rafe?” Barry mused, as he bumped fists with him.
“It was Sofia’s idea.”
“I figured– so what can I do for y’all today? On this ol’ hallows eve? Got someone after you again?”
Rafe shifted his weight on to the other foot, gaze furtive and snappy, “no just, you know…”
Sofia eyed the two of them as they exchanged a silent passing of glances, clearly not saying whatever it is they wanted to say because of her presence.
She rolled her eyes, staring a her boyfriend with a disparaging expression. “Rafe I swear to god, if you’ve come here to for drugs I’m not going to that party.”
He groaned exasperatedly, annoyed she caught on as if he wasn’t being entirely unsubtle in front of her just now. “Fuck, look Kelce just wanted some weed ok.”
“No Rafe, tell him to get it himself. You’re not gonna act like some seedy dealer– no offence Barry.”
“None taken,” he held his hands up, smirking slightly as he watched the two of them argue, acting like it was prime reality TV.
Sofia crossed her arms, mouth thinning, “fine, if you do, I’m not going with you then,” she said, her ultimatum making Rafe cock his head to the side.
“Oh yeah? Where are you gonna go instead huh?”
“I’ll stay here with Barry. You don’t mind do you?” She asked, glancing over at him.
“Of course not– mi casa es tu casa.”
“What the fuck Barry help me out here.”
“Don’t look at me dawg– I’m just Switzerland.”
“Fine, we’ll both stay here, you happy now Sofia?”
“Very.” She huffed. Barry just continue to chuckle softly to himself, as Rafe dragged out two extra seats for them, and despite being angry, he still unfolded and set out the lawn chair for her.
The three of them sat in the cold October air, grateful for the crackling fire before them.
“You cold?” Rafe asked her, his suit of armour flickering like burning gold in the aureate light.
Sofia couldn’t stay mad at him for long, “I’m ok.”
“Well this feels very juvenile, campfire on Halloween? We just need some marshmallows.” Barry snickered.
“Or some beer.” Rafe grumbled.
“Sofia why don’t you go inside and get the six pack, then you can grab whatever you wanna drink from the fridge alright?” Barry suggested, knowing she didn’t like the taste of beer.
“Yeah ok.” So she got up, walking around to the trailer door, unable to make out what Rafe and Barry where whispering about as soon as she left– probably something illegal and unsavoury, she thought with a bitter scoff.
She returned a couple minutes later, handing over the pack to Barry, settling down in her seat between them, grateful for the circle of warmth. Perhaps wearing a skimpy dress in the middle of autumn wasn’t the best idea.
“So what were you both conspiring about?” She asked, opening her can with a soft hiss.
“Barry was just talking about the story of the Kildare Killer.” Rafe said with a nonchalant sip of his beer, eyes gleaming in the firelight.
“The what?”
Barry’s eyes shot up dramatically, “you don’t know about the Kildare Killer?”
“No…should I? I don’t like the sound of it.” Sofia also didn’t like the way Barry and Rafe had become solemn, their visage cast in fire and darkness, shadows stretching and straining across the planes and slopes of their faces.
“I keep forgetting you’re not from around here Dora…why don’t I let Rafe here begin the story– he loves true crime.” Barry goaded, to which Rafe responded with a dismissive middle finger.
“Rafe tell me,” She said, curiousity piqued, ignoring Barry’s teasing.
Rafe nodded slowly, licking his beer stained lips, “ok then, the story starts back in 1985–there was a drought that lasted all summer– the grass was all dead, the tanks all dried up; it was the hottest summer in North Carolina history. Well, small island like this, people left their windows wide open as they slept, tryna let in the cool night breeze.” Rafe explained Sofia nodding eagerly.
“Well one night, super dry, kinda like this one– the police were called. The cop cars pull up to the house– you can still visit it today actually, it’s not too far from here– and they hear screaming, the blood curdling type. The officers approach, scared shitless. it’s a small town, nothing bad ever happens, but in that moment, hearing that scream, they thought the worst.”
Barry, who’d been quietly listen to Rafe cleared his throat, “well the cops finally entered the house.”
Sofia turned to face him, listening intently.
“They notice nothin’ outta the ordinary, but then hear someone weepin’…they follow the cries down to the bedroom and see two girls, still dressed in their nightgowns being clutched by their mother, who’s cryin’ over them.”
Barry’s voice was low and raspy, Sofia having to lean in close so she could hear.
“It takes a while for the cops to notice, the room still dark, but they quickly realise the girls aren’t just sleepin’– they’re dead, their nightgowns covered in blood.”
Sofia’s eyes were like saucers completely entranced by the story.
“Turns out a patient from the metal asylum on the mainland escaped on the ferry to Kildare. He killed six girls that night, climbin’ in through their bedroom window and slitting their pretty throats. He got the death penalty, fryin’ in that chair on Halloween night. The legend round these parts goes that sometimes on all hallows eve, the Kildare Killer’s spirit comes back to haunt the islanders…he scours the streets, lookin’ for pretty girls in white dresses to make his seventh victim, waitin’ to come up behind and slit their throat.”
Barry smiled evilly, taking a swig of beer, eyeing Sofia who’s thus far been wholly transfixed on the story.
The goosebumps that splayed across Sofia’s skin faded away, rolling her eyes in disbelief, “you’re such a liar, stop trying to freak me out– that did not happen–“
She suddenly felt two large hands grip her sides, shaking her erratically, a bellowing yell “boo!” coming from behind her. Her nerves were already shot through from the boys’ stupid story, so a screeching scream instinctively spilled out her mouth as her body shuddered in terror. She nearly toppled out of her chair from the jump scare.
“Rafe!” She yelled, “that’s not funny!”
But Barry and Rafe clearly thought otherwise, erupting into a fit of laughter as Sofia was left reeling in the lawn chair, her heart beat wavering uncontrollably.
“Shittt Dora, you shoulda’ seen your face,” Barry grinned, laughing so hard he began tearing up.
Rafe’s arms wrapped around her bringing her into him, “sorry baby, we couldn’t help it.” He apologised with an impish grin, as Sofia tried to pry his hands off of her.
“Pinche pendejos,” she cursed, finally letting a small smile creep up on her.
Rafe shook her gently, his forearm hooked around her neck and face pressed against her own, with a honeyed laugh. Sofia’s hands trailed up to meet his, whilst Barry continued to chuckle, looking relieved that Sofia found it funny.
The three of them continued to laugh and talk late into the night, their faces illuminated by the ever burning fire as grey ropes of smoke swirled into the star peppered sky.
Eventually it got late enough that Sofia began to yawn, her eyelids growing heavy.
“You knockin’ out there Sofia?” Barry said, rolling up another joint with his soot stained fingers.
Rafe glanced over at his girl, curled up in the lawn chair, droopy face resting on her hand.
“Sof? You good?” He asked.
She blinked open her eyes, giving Rafe a dopey smile, “all good.”
“Yall can sleep over if you want, if you’re too drunk to drive.” Barry offered, lighting up his rolled paper with the flames from the fire.
“You sure Barry?” Sofia asked, not wanting to impose.
“Of course Dora, spare bedroom’s still yours.”
So that’s what they did. Rafe stripped out of his chain mail and armour, leaving it in the trunk of the car, in bed with just his T-shirt and jeans whilst Sofia slipped out of her angel wings, ready to just collapse right there with him.
Barry disappeared into his room a while ago, probably knocked out too– it was late after all, nearing midnight and they were all drunk and exhausted.
Sofia wrapped her sweater around herself, that she got from the car, pattering into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. The trailer was dark, only a solitary lamp left on, drenching the walls in a dull, orange glow. Sofia manoeuvred through the gloom and filled up a cup with water, eyes glossing over the window above the sink.
She was about to turn around and retreat back into the bedroom when she saw something move outside the kitchen window, a blur of darkness, like a shadow puppet flashing across the glass. Sofia froze, eyes glued on the screen, waiting to confirm what she saw. But the night was now still, everything unmoving. Sofia levelled her breathing, about to scurry back into the room to tell Rafe– he could go out and check– when a scraping sound rattled through the trailer as if someone was running their nails across the metal exterior.
“I swear to god guys stop messing around,” she called out, trying to sound intimidating. But if Rafe and Barry were in their rooms…who was outside?
The sound of the scratching began to get progressively louder, sending chills slithering down Sofia’s spine. She thought of that stupid story they told her earlier. It was Halloween night and she was still in a white dress…her heart froze in her chest as she attempted to level her breaths. At least the window was shut.
“Rafe,” she called out, his name coming out in a shaky warble. But he didn’t reply. Sofia set down her glass of water, about to dash back into the bedroom, when suddenly a hand slammed against the window, ghost-white palm splayed across the the grimy glass, the sound knocking the air out if her lungs. Sofia gasped as if a frigid wave of water had submerged her insides, her terror only increasing tenfold when the door to the trailer slammed open, too quick for her to turn to face the intruder. Before she knew it, their arms wrapped around her waist, a shrill scream of horror hurtling out of her oesophagus.
“Happy Halloween!” Her assailant whispered in her ear, Sofia turning around to see Rafe’s imposing figure envelope her completely.
“You’re such a jerk!” She cried out, untangling herself out of his caging grip. Barry followed his lead, entering the trailer a moment after.
“Shit Dora, you real jumpy aren’t you?”
“Yeah because of you two idiots,” she grumbled as Rafe draped an arm over her frame, Barry knocking a playful fist on her shoulder.
“Oh come on, you know you love us.” Rafe smiled, pressing a soft kiss on her forehead, as Barry continued to wheeze with laughter.
Sofia pushed passed the two of them, heading into the bedroom, “that’s it, next Halloween I’m saying at home.”
⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾⚝☽⟡ ⟡☾
#outer banks#rafe cameron#rafe and sofia#sofia outer banks#sofia obx#rafe x sofia#drew starkey#fiona palomo#rafe cameron thoughts#rafe cameron and sofia fanfiction#rafe and sofia fanfiction#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron fluff#rafe and Barry fanfic#rafe and barry fanfiction#rarry obx#outer banks season 4#obx 4#outer banks fanfiction#༊*·˚syren
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Singer Of The Sneaker Pimps, Kelli Ali, at Liverpool Heebiejeebies 1996
#locally hated#just girly posts#girl blog#girl blogger#girlblogging#girlblog#jane birkin#lana del rey#lana del rey aesthetic#sneaker pimps#1990s fashion#1990s#1990s nostalgia#1990s aesthetic#90s#1999#90s movies#nineties#90s nostalgia#90s fashion#90s style#90s aesthetic#90s music#2000#girlblogger#girl blogging#girlblog aesthetic#gaslight gatekeep girlblog
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Nike Air Force 1 Low "Python Snake"
#Nike Air Force 1#Air Foece 1#Air Force I#AF 1#Nike#Nike Air Force I#AF I#Nike Sneaker#Sneaker Photography#Snake#2024#1996#Python#AO1635-100#Jun 15#$130#Sneaker#Sneakers
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sneaker pimps - tesko suicide [x]
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What would be ur recs/advice for those who wanna start dressing like violet? I started the show less than a week ago ( late to the party, I know lmao ) but I already love it and she really stands out to me as a character.
Ps: I think ur posts are so cool!!
thank you! better to be late than never come i guess. :,)
if you're looking into violet's style and just want to dress like her, i recommend doing research on all of her outfits. she dresses very grunge-like at times with a twinge of girly and boho style. a great example of this is her outfit in “home invasion”, where she wears a dress and a flannel paired together.
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the way she wears dresses is slightly influenced by 90s style. in “home invasion”, violet asks the girls if the tights they're forcing her to wear are vintage. it's clear that violet loves vintage style clothing. this photo is from a 1996 delia’s fall catalog, which is similar to violet's clothing style.
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model A is definitely wearing something violet would wear. as violet loves to pair short-sleeve dresses with long sleeves. she also often wears combat-style boots with dresses, or vintage-style ankle boots. she wears ballet flats a few times, giving her outfits a feminine look. she also does wear a few blouses. violet is more on the girly side when it comes to dressing up.
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for shoes, violet wears a lot of boots and ballet flats. her most common boots worn are her urban outfitters ecoté equestrian ankle boot. she wears them with almost every outfit with leggings, tights, etc.. with most of her outfits, she does wear combat-style boots. a great example of this is her boots worn with her ymc dress and the boots worn with the joie cardigan. she does wear ballet flats a few times, once with the spending time pullover and once with her free people fit and flare burgundy skater dress. only once in the show she wears sneakers. she also wears black, lace up oxfords with her a.p.c dress, which are never worn again after that.
violet often wears patterned clothing. the most common pattern violet wears is floral. almost all of her dresses have floral prints. her tights also have floral patterns. she often wears paisley print tops as well, such as the free people regal macrame asymmetrical tunic and the paisley ruffle top worn underneath the banana republic striped cardigan. she likes stripes as well, her socks are striped as well as some of her cardigans and sweaters.
another thing to remember is that violet always layers her clothing. underneath sweaters, she always wears an undershirt. underneath dresses, she wears long sleeves, and so on. underneath tank tops, she often layers two long sleeves or rolls up the sleeves.
she most often covers up her body when wearing dresses. she always wears something underneath her dresses to avoid showing any cleavage. she always makes sure to wear long sleeves with dresses as well to hide her cuts. when wearing sleeveless dresses, violet will pair cardigans or long sleeves underneath a dress to avoid showing her arms. when wearing shorts and dresses, violet always wears tights or long socks. it's clear that violet doesn't like to show a lot of skin. when wearing tank tops or short sleeves, she always wears something underneath unless she's by herself or with tate. only a few times in the show violet shows some skin, but not very much.
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violet also loves graphic t-shirts. she wears a few of them like the j. crew lake erie boating club henley, the custom-made kinks tee, and the nordstrom chloe k. multicolored feather print tee. when wearing these, she always wears a long sleeve top underneath. as for long sleeves, violet likes to wear burnouts, such as the free people floral burnout henley and the free people striped long sleeve burnout in sand.
as for color, her outfits are never really vibrant. most of the time they include colors with dark hues. she wears a lot of black, purple, burgundy, gray, and beige from what i've seen. most of her outfits consist of muted color schemes.
for accessories, violet wears a lot of hats and bracelets. she wears the urban outfitters bailey of hollywood cosgrove wide brim pork pie hat a couple times. she also wears a lot of knit beanies or berets. when wearing bracelets, she really just wears whatever, such as pearl bracelets, knot bracelets, hair ties, and so on. she likes to wear scarves too, and she wears a small wrist scarf around her wrist a few times. with every outfit, violet wears silver hoop earrings, which aren't too noticeable unless she pulls her hair back. she also includes different bags, such as her rothco book bag and her ecoté backpack.
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another thing about her style is that she often wears a lot of free people and urban outfitters brands, such as pins and needles, staring at stars, bdg, ecoté, and so on. free people is a mainly boho style clothing brand, and violet does wear a lot of boho style clothing as well. once in the show, she does wear a crochet white beanie, which stems from the whole 2010s boho style.
she wears crochet tank tops, paisley patterns, floral patterns, macrame vests and tank tops, ponchos, crochet dresses, lace tops and dresses, fringe cardigans and bags, the list goes on. her style overall is a mix of 2010’s boho, grunge, and vintage style clothing.
if you're looking to actually collect exacts, then before you start collecting, i would recommend doing your research on violet's outfits so you don't get the wrong exact. i've seen people buy the wrong colorway of the trapeze slip dress, so you should probably do your research first.
to start collecting violet’s clothes, you may want to start with some common items. such as the items listed down below. do keep in mind, as the years go on, the availability of some exacts are getting more and more limited as they age, so get these while you can.
• free people intimately voile and lace trapeze slip dress in storm.
• anthropologie moulinette soeurs anthro horkelia shift dress in orange.
• free people fit and flare burgundy skater dress.
• free people lost in the forest knit pullover in tan/faded rose.
• free people spending time pullover in ivory/cream.
these items are almost always available, these are some casual staples in your collection that really capture violet's unique style. new collectors usually get these anyway because if and when any rarer items are on sale, older collectors usually strive to get those because they've probably been looking for them for a while. as you slowly start to build your collection up, you can start to buy rarer exacts.
i recommend searching for items on other apps such as mercari, poshmark, vinted, curtsy, and ebay. if you search hard enough, you can find these items for really cheap. you can type in the brand name of an item you're looking for with a vague description of it, just like this. you can even use image searches on poshmark and ebay if you want.
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you can find really cheap exacts this way, but if you can't find anything, then don't be discouraged. mapleavenues has been selling exacts since the early 2010s, and she still does to this day. she's on depop, poshmark, and ebay. however, her prices are high, so if you're not willing to pay that much, then you may wanna start searching with this method.
this is pretty much all i have to say about dressing like violet. this was a bit rushed, but i tried! violet's style is so unique and it always surprises me. so don't be afraid to change up your outfits every now and then like violet does. hopefully i explained this well enough, but violet's style doesn't have a main theme, so it is very, very complex and hard to explain. :,) hopefully this helps.
#violet harmon#ahs violet#ahs murder house#violet harmon style#american horror murder house#ahs fandom#american horror story#violet harmon aesthetic#violet harmon exacts#bohostyle#90s#grunge#2010s#2011
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