#Vintage Clothing Store Near Me

[helpandhopecenter]

Discover the Best Vintage Clothing Stores in Denver

Looking for Vintage Clothing Stores in Denver? At Help & Hope Center, we offer a unique collection of vintage clothes in Denver, CO that will give your wardrobe a retro twist. Whether you're hunting for the perfect vintage jacket, stylish jeans, or classic accessories, our Vintage Clothing Denver Colorado collection has it all! Visit our store today to explore the best Denver Vintage Clothing Stores and experience the charm of sustainable fashion. Don't miss out on vintage clothes near me and vintage clothing near me – we are just around the corner.

[grannyandgrandpascreations]

God, Grant Me The Serenity Distressed Bleach Vintage Flannel Shirt

This God, Grant Me the Serenity distressed bleached vintage flannel shirt exudes effortless cool and laid-back style. Made from soft, worn-in cotton, it features a unique bleached pattern that adds character and charm. The classic plaid design combines earthy tones with hints of brighter hues, creating a perfect blend of vintage appeal and contemporary edge. This distressed finish adds a touch of character, making each piece one-of-a-kind. With its classic plaid pattern and relaxed fit, this flannel is perfect for layering or wearing on its own.

No two shirts will ever be exactly alike so please aware and embrace the differences. All shirts are carefully curated, hand-dyed, and re-purposed so that each shirt is going to be different from the next in terms of color and plaid print.

SIZING: These shirts vary, many are unisex and come in men's sizing. They can be worn by both men & women. Ordering your normal t-shirt size is recommended for a regular fit. Going 1 size up works well for a baggy/oversized fit.

FABRIC: All these shirts are made of cotton or a cotton/poly blend. Measurements and thickness vary slightly by brand.

COLORS: Each flannel is unique, and no two shirts are going to look exactly alike. Colors are sent at random. Because the colors often change throughout the bleaching process, I cannot take specific color requests for these shirts.

Care instructions: Turn item inside out, machine wash cold, no bleach, no softener. Do not dry clean. Do not iron. Air dry is recommended.

Due to different picture lighting settings the actual color might vary a bit from the pictures.

Current Turnaround Time due to upcoming Holidays - 1-5 Business Days. While we always use priority shipping options, once shipped we cannot guarantee delivery due to the backlog current being experienced USPS/UPS/FedEx. If you have a strict deadline, please message me when ordering so that I can note any rush requests. Ownership of packages turned over to USPS transfers to the Buyer. We are not responsible for lost, held, damaged packages or delayed packages, once your package(s) leaves our Shop it is completely out of our control. Thank you for understanding!

Thank you for visiting Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations, we truly appreciate your support of small businesses. We also personalize our products, please reach out to us with any personalizing any of our products, additional fee's may apply.

Please visit www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com to view more products.

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#flannelshirt - #grannygrandpascustomcreations - #distressedflannelshirt

© 2018 All photography is intellectual property of Granny and Grandpa's Custom Creations © and may not be used without express written permission from Granny and Grandpa's Custom Creations.

Welcome to Granny’s Store! We’ve got a fantastic selection of distressed flannels, cozy t-shirts, trendy tumblers, and so much more. Whether you’re looking for a laid-back outfit or a fun accessory, you’ll find something special here. Don’t forget to check out our seasonal items and unique finds that capture that charming, vintage vibe! Remember, Granny and Grandpa's Custom Creations is that "hidden" gem with unique, great quality, fun, gorgeous, innovative, and inexpensive gifts for your Loved Ones or yourself for your next shopping trip!

[simply-stitched-designs]

Finding Your Signature Style: A Guide for Every Shopper in York

Living in York, PA, you're surrounded by history and charm. But does your wardrobe reflect that unique York personality?  At Simply Stitched Designs, we believe every shopper deserves to feel confident and stylish, and we're here to help you discover your signature look!

Whether you crave classic elegance or a touch of trendy flair, our curated collection has something for everyone.  But where do you even begin? Fear not, fashion friends!  This guide will equip you with the tools to navigate the wonderful world of clothing and create a wardrobe that speaks volumes about your unique style.

Step 1: Know Thyself

Before diving into the latest trends, take some time to understand your personal preferences. Consider your lifestyle – are you a busy professional, a weekend adventurer, or a creative artist? What makes you feel comfortable and confident?  Think about colors that flatter your complexion and silhouettes that complement your body type.

Step 2: Find Inspiration

Feeling lost? Inspiration is everywhere!  Browse fashion magazines, follow style icons on social media, or even window shop at Simply Stitched Designs (we're open Monday-Friday, 8 AM to 5 PM!).  As you explore, keep a mental note of styles that catch your eye.

Step 3: Build Your Foundation

Every stylish wardrobe needs a solid foundation of high-quality basics. Think classic jeans, crisp white shirts, and comfortable tees. These versatile pieces can be easily mixed and matched to create endless outfit possibilities.

Step 4: Embrace Your Individuality

Now comes the fun part – adding your personal touch! Experiment with bold prints, statement accessories, or a unique jacket to showcase your personality. Don't be afraid to step outside your comfort zone – you might be surprised by what you love!

Step 5: Confidence is Key

The most important element of any outfit is your confidence.  When you feel good in what you're wearing, it shows! So hold your head high and rock your signature style.

Bonus Tip:

While you're revamping your wardrobe, don't forget to refresh your home environment!  A clean and organized space can significantly boost your mood and confidence. If you're feeling overwhelmed by clutter or pesky insects, consider searching for a "clothing store" to find local professionals who can help.

Finding your signature style is a journey, not a destination.  At Simply Stitched Designs, we're here to support you every step of the way. Come visit us, browse our selection, and let our friendly staff help you discover your unique fashion voice!

[informative-blogger123]

Salt Lake City’s Go-To for Unique Rave Clothing and Vintage Finds

Finding the perfect store to fit your unique style can be a bit of a challenge, right? If you’re anything like me, you’ve probably scrolled through countless options looking for something that feels personal, stylish, and just a little off the beaten path. Well, guess what? Iconoclad in Salt Lake City is about to become your new favorite shopping spot. Whether you’re hunting for funky rave clothing, cool second-hand pieces, or chic boutique finds, you’re bound to walk away with something fabulous.

In this article, we’ll take a deep dive into Iconoclad and why it’s such a standout store. Plus, we’ll explore how it fits into the broader world of vintage stores, consignment shops, and other cool boutiques in Utah. Ready to discover your new wardrobe inspiration? Let’s go!

What is Iconoclad? A One-of-a-Kind Shopping Experience

Located in the heart of Salt Lake City, Iconoclad is the go-to store for anyone looking for unique, affordable, and sustainable fashion. It’s a shop that perfectly balances rave wear, vintage treasures, and eco-friendly second-hand clothing. The best part? Iconoclad offers a consignment option where you can sell your gently-used clothing, giving new life to items you no longer wear.

Why Iconoclad is Perfect for Rave Clothing Enthusiasts

When it comes to rave culture, Iconoclad stands out as a hotspot for bold and colorful outfits. If you’re prepping for your next festival or dance party, you’ll find everything from neon tops to holographic leggings here. They understand that rave fashion is about self-expression, so their selection is always fresh and funky, making sure you stand out in the crowd.

Second-Hand Clothing: Sustainability Meets Style

The days of thinking second-hand clothing is dull or outdated are long gone. Iconoclad proves that second-hand clothing stores can be treasure troves for stylish finds. Whether you’re after a pre-loved jacket or a pair of high-waisted jeans, this store gives you access to quality items without the hefty price tag. And let's not forget the eco-friendly aspect—buying second-hand is one of the easiest ways to reduce your fashion footprint.

Consignment Stores: Utah’s Hidden Gems for Fashion Lovers

Iconoclad’s consignment model is simple. Bring in your gently-used clothes, and if they sell, you make some cash. It’s a win-win situation—shoppers get access to affordable, high-quality items, and sellers get to declutter their closets while earning some extra money. It’s the perfect setup for anyone looking to refresh their wardrobe without breaking the bank.

Vintage Stores in Salt Lake City: A Haven for Unique Finds

Salt Lake City is known for its array of vintage stores, and Iconoclad is no exception. Whether you’re looking for a retro band tee or a pair of ‘90s mom jeans, the store’s vintage section has something for everyone. Each piece has its own history, and that’s what makes vintage shopping so exciting. Plus, with vintage items, you know you’re getting something truly one-of-a-kind.

Womens Consignment: Curated Fashion with a Purpose

Iconoclad places a strong emphasis on women's consignment, offering a well-curated selection of clothes that range from casual daywear to stylish night-out ensembles. With pieces handpicked for quality and style, it’s a shopper’s paradise for those who want something a bit more upscale without paying full retail prices. If you're looking to freshen up your wardrobe with trendy finds, their women's section is a must-browse.

Boutiques in Utah: How Iconoclad Compares

While there are plenty of boutiques in Utah, Iconoclad sets itself apart with its unique blend of new, second-hand, and consignment pieces. You can shop for sustainable fashion, pick up a rave-ready outfit, and score some vintage finds all in one place. This makes it a convenient and exciting alternative to more traditional Utah boutiques that may focus on only one style or price range.

The Appeal of Iconoclad’s Sustainable Fashion Choices

One of the most appealing aspects of Iconoclad is their dedication to sustainable fashion. By encouraging second-hand shopping and consignment, they make it easy for customers to shop responsibly. Fast fashion can take a serious toll on the environment, so it’s refreshing to find a shop that promotes reducing waste without sacrificing style. If sustainability is a priority for you, Iconoclad is definitely worth a visit.

Salt Lake City: A Fashion Hub You Might Not Expect

Salt Lake City might not be the first place that comes to mind when you think of fashion hubs, but don’t be fooled! With stores like Iconoclad, the city is quickly making a name for itself in the world of unique, eco-friendly, and trendy fashion. Whether you’re a local or just visiting, exploring the city's vintage stores and consignment shops is a must for anyone who loves fashion.

Affordable Fashion Without Compromise

We’ve all been there—finding something we love, only to check the price tag and immediately put it back. At Iconoclad, you won’t have that problem. Their prices are incredibly affordable, especially considering the quality and uniqueness of the items they offer. Whether you're looking for rave clothing, a vintage find, or a killer consignment piece, you won’t have to empty your wallet to look good.

Why Consignment Stores Are the Future of Fashion

Consignment stores like Iconoclad are leading the charge in changing how we shop. Fast fashion has dominated the industry for too long, leading to waste and low-quality clothes that don't last. Consignment offers a better alternative—high-quality items at a fraction of the cost, with the added benefit of being better for the planet. Plus, you get to enjoy a treasure hunt every time you step inside!

Rave Clothing Stores: How Iconoclad Nails the Trend

Rave fashion is all about standing out, and Iconoclad’s rave section is packed with eye-catching, festival-ready pieces. Whether you’re going for glitter, neon, or something completely off-the-wall, their selection makes it easy to create the perfect rave outfit. And because it’s Salt Lake City, you can rest assured that what you find at Iconoclad will be unique and unlike anything you’ll see anywhere else.

Second-Hand Clothing Stores Near Me: Why Iconoclad Stands Out

When searching for second-hand clothing stores near me, you might find several options, but none quite compare to Iconoclad. What sets them apart is their carefully curated collection, blending affordable prices with quality. Rather than sifting through racks of worn-out items, you’ll find only the best in their inventory. Plus, with the consignment option, you can make room in your closet while finding new-to-you treasures.

Utah Consignment Stores: Exploring the Best Options

While Utah has a growing number of consignment stores, Iconoclad remains a top choice thanks to its eclectic mix of styles and commitment to sustainability. Whether you’re looking for women's consignment, vintage, or something more modern, Iconoclad's diverse selection ensures there's something for everyone. It’s a must-visit for anyone who loves fashion, whether you're buying or selling.

Boutiques in Utah: Iconoclad’s Unique Take on Fashion

If you’re on the lookout for chic boutiques in Utah, make sure Iconoclad is on your list. Unlike traditional boutiques that focus solely on new items, Iconoclad offers a broader range of fashion choices with its combination of consignment, second-hand, and new rave pieces. You get the boutique experience without the boutique price tag, which is a win in anyone’s book.

The Iconoclad Experience: More Than Just Shopping

Shopping at Iconoclad isn’t just about finding great clothes; it’s about the experience. From the friendly staff to the vibrant atmosphere, you’ll feel welcomed the moment you step through the door. Whether you're chatting with the team about your consignment items or discovering the latest rave fashion trends, Iconoclad is a place where fashion feels fun and accessible.

Conclusion: Iconoclad - A Fashion Destination in Salt Lake City

If you’re searching for something unique and budget-friendly, look no further than Iconoclad in Salt Lake City. This store blends everything you love about vintage finds, rave clothing, and women's consignment, creating an unmatched shopping experience. Whether you're prepping for your next rave, updating your wardrobe with second-hand treasures, or browsing the boutiques of Utah, Iconoclad is a fashion destination you don’t want to miss.

FAQs

1. What is Iconoclad known for? Iconoclad is known for its eclectic mix of rave clothing, vintage finds, and second-hand consignment items in Salt Lake City.

2. Can I sell my clothes at Iconoclad? Yes! Iconoclad offers a consignment option where you can bring in your gently-used clothes and earn money if they sell.

3. Is Iconoclad expensive? Not at all. Iconoclad is known for its affordable prices, making it accessible to shoppers looking for unique and stylish items.

4. What types of clothing can I find at Iconoclad? At Iconoclad, you’ll find rave wear, vintage items, consignment pieces, and trendy women's fashion, among other unique styles.

5. Is Iconoclad sustainable? Yes! Iconoclad promotes sustainable fashion by offering second-hand clothing and a consignment program, reducing the environmental impact of fast fashion.

[wowthatunusual]

Discover Unique Finds at the Best Vintage Clothing Thrift Store Near Me | WowThatUnusual

Explore a treasure trove of timeless fashion pieces at WowThatUnusual, the premier vintage clothing thrift store near me. From retro dresses to classic accessories, indulge in a shopping experience like no other. Find your perfect style statement and unearth hidden gems just around the corner. Visit us today!

[busket]

the mall near me was dead for a while and a ton of stores closed, so the big stores like Ross and Sears are out of business. the smaller but still typical mall stores closed too, but then they were replaced by small businesses just looking for a brick and mortar location. so now my local mall has a cool indie comic shop that sells handmade zines. there's a tabletop game store that hosts games for customers. theres a vintage and second hand clothing store. it's awesome. I hope it keeps happening, id so much rather go to the mall for these stores instead of a forever 21 or a hot topic or a claires

[professorsparklepants]

oh my god, my mom texted me yesterday about finding a kimono at a vintage clothing store for $30, and the pictures she sent were really nice so i knew already it was a steal. but y'all, this furisode is what feels like traditional fabric in near-immaculate condition, no major stains and only two small holes, it has GOLD LEAF in the pattern, and the front panel has hand-stitched embroidery partially in what looks like gold thread. FOR THIRTY DOLLARS.

[lemoncrushh]

Scars

Summary: You have scars and are hesitant about letting Harry see you naked for the first time.

Warnings: body image issues (scars), smut - 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 2920

A/N: This was a special request from an old mutual back in 2016 (I still think of you often hon, wherever you are). Reader fic with a very sweet and caring Harry.

It was date number five...but who's counting?

You and Harry had spent the entire afternoon together, going to lunch at your favorite cafe and then shopping. You'd been a bit surprised when he'd suggested it, but it had turned out to be one of the most pleasant days you'd ever had. You'd browsed antique shops, thrift shops and a vintage record store, rounding out the shopping at a small boutique that you'd passed earlier, finally stopping to give a dress in the window a second look.

"Go try it on," Harry suggested, nudging your arm.

"What?" you blinked, looking up at him. He gave you an encouraging smile.

"We've passed this store three times. You obviously like that dress. Go try it on."

You bit your lip and gave a shrugged. "It's okay. It's late. I should probably be heading home."

"Y/N," said Harry, "Go. It'll look beautiful on you."

With a hesitant grin, you nodded. Harry opened the door for you and you stepped inside the boutique, immediately scanning the room for the dress on display.

"May I help you?" a kindly looking woman asked.

"I-" you opened your mouth, but it was Harry that answered.

"She wants that dress in the window."

The woman smiled at both of you. "Ah yes, right this way."

You followed her to a round rack near the wall where she asked you your size. Pulling one of the dresses out, she handed it to you.

"Fitting room is in the back," she sang. "My name's Delores if you need anything."

"Thank you," you replied.

Harry walked with you to the back of the store, finding a floral upholstered chair to sit in while you went in the dressing room.

Trying on clothes was not your favorite thing to do. In fact, you loathed it most of the time. But when Harry had given you his million-dollar smile, insisting that you try the dress on, that you'd look beautiful it nonetheless, it had made you feel a little less self-conscious. You only hoped the dress covered your scars.

Standing in front of the mirror, after removing your bra, you ran your finger over your most prominent scar. The type of dress this was, you would definitely have to go braless. Letting out a deep breath, you pulled the dress over your head. As soon as the fabric fell over your hips, you knew. It fit you perfectly. Twisting in it in front of the mirror, making the skirt twirl, you felt pretty. The thin straps didn't sag, the bust of the dress hugged you the way you'd hoped it would. And no scars could be seen. With a silent giggle, you took the dress off, placing it back on the hanger.

Once you were dressed in your own clothes, you emerged from the fitting room. Harry looked up from his phone, his expression disappointed.

"Did it not fit?" he inquired.

"No, it did," you grinned. "I'm getting it."

"Oh. But I didn't get to see."

You chuckled, heading toward the register. "Sorry."

Delores came around the counter, beaming. "Did that work out for you, doll?"

"Yes," you said as she rang you up.

"Let me get that," Harry offered, attempting to produce his wallet.

You turned to glare at him. "No thanks."

"Please?"

You raised a brow. "It's fine. I got it."

Once you'd paid for your dress, Harry held the door open for you again, following you out to the sidewalk. When you reached Harry's car and he unlocked it, you nearly jumped when he grabbed your hand.

"Since it's getting late, what do you say to dinner?"

You blushed, looking down at the ground. "We already spent all day together."

Harry's face fell. "Are you saying you're tired of me?"

You shook your head and laughed. "Far from it. I just didn't want you to get tired of me."

Harry stepped closer, his other hand brushing a strand of hair from your hair and tucking it behind your ear.

"That's not gonna happen," he muttered.

Your skin tingled from his gentle gesture and his deep voice.

"So, dinner?" he asked again. "You could wear your new dress. I'd love to see you in it."

You sucked in your lips, ready to burst out with an ecstatic yes, but not wanting to seem to eager.

"Okay," you finally whispered.

Harry drove you back to your place so you could change. He waited on the sofa while you went to the bedroom to put on your dress. You twirled in front of the full-length mirror, giggling at yourself before opening the door. When you stepped into the living room, Harry gazed up at you, his mouth slowly stretching into a smile.

"You look amazing," he said sincerely, standing up to meet you. His eyes travelled down your body and back up again, sending even more tingles throughout your skin. "So pretty."

Harry put his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead, then another on your lips.

"Thank you," you grinned, your hands on his chest. "So where are we going for dinner?"

Harry sighed, his fingers gripping you tighter. "'m gonna have a hard time thinking about food."

You laughed out loud, your wrists winding around his neck. "Is it really that effective?"

Nodding, his fingers slid up your back. Then he rested his forehead against yours. "You have no idea," he added with a groan.

You bit your lip, your eyes even with his, though he was focused on something else.

"Don't do that, love," he pouted.

"What?"

Harry lifted his head from yours then, his thumb grazing across your bottom lip.

"Biting this lip," he explained. "Drives me crazy when you do that."

You raised your eyebrows. "Seems I'm learning a lot of new things about you today."

Harry gave a sexy smirk, one of his hands running up your arm to your shoulder. "What else you wanna know?"

The color rose to your cheeks and you shook your head. "Never mind. Let's go eat."

Dinner was wonderful. You sat in a round corner booth in a dimly lit, intimate restaurant. After appetizers and a glass of wine, Harry became very flirty, leaning in to place soft kisses on your neck and shoulder. His hand found your knee under the table, staying there for almost the rest of the next course, occasionally giving it a little squeeze. You smiled at him, covering his hand with yours. The way he looked at you made you warm all over, and you knew it wasn't just the wine.

By the time you'd finished eating, to say you were ready to go back to your place would be an understatement. Sometime during dessert, Harry's hand had begun traveling up your thigh, pushing your dress up just slightly. You were feeling a bit light-headed, knowing where this was surely going to lead.

You were nervous. So many questions had begun running through your mind. Was five dates too soon? What exactly was too soon? You'd already kissed him several times, the end of date four already coming close to a make-out session. You knew you wanted to sleep with him. He was sweet, fun to be with and extremely sexy. The anticipation was already getting to you. So, what were you nervous about?

Your scars.

No man had seen you naked since your surgery. You were scared about what he would think - or do - when he saw them.

"Ready to go?" you heard Harry ask, pulling you out of your thoughts.

"Sure," you blinked.

The car ride home was almost unbearable. Your insides trembled with desire, but your head was still running a mile a minute with worry and doubt. As you walked to your door, Harry took your hand, threading his fingers through yours before bring it to his mouth to kiss it. Then he stood behind you, his arms around your waist as you inserted the key. You bit your lip as you struggled to get the door unlocked.

"Stop it," Harry growled, his chin landing on your shoulder.

"Stop what? I'm having trouble with the key."

"That lip."

"Oh," you stifled a giggle, finally pushing the door free.

Harry released a breath, letting go of you long enough to enter the apartment. He stood to the side as you shut the door, watching you almost intently. Licking your lips, you tossed you bag on the sofa before turning to face him. Within two strides he'd crossed the room, taking your face in his hands. His mouth captured yours in an intoxicating kiss, soft and gentle at first before dragging his tongue across your bottom lip. You sighed, melting into him.

"I suspect this is when I usually leave," he conveyed, his eyelids heavy.

You nodded, your hands resting on his arms. "Yeah."

"But I don't really want to," he added.

You swallowed hard. "I don't want you to either."

His jaw tightening, Harry slid his hands down your shoulders, his fingers looping around the straps of your dress. You felt yourself tense up involuntarily and it wasn't lost on Harry.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," you breathed.

"Do you wanna go to the bedroom?"

You nodded silently. Harry took your hands, gesturing toward the bedroom with his head.

"Lead the way."

You bit your lip again, this time causing Harry to grit his teeth. "And stop fucking doing that."

You chuckled and pulled his hand, guiding him to the bedroom. As soon as you closed the door, he pushed you against it, his mouth covering yours. You made a sound, but not in protest. His body pressed against yours as you wrapped your arms around his neck. His kisses were hungry, his tongue dipping in your mouth repeatedly. Your entire body was on fire, and you knew you were only moments away from being disrobed.

Harry's hands roamed up your sides, cupping your breasts in your dress. The thin fabric did nothing to hide the firmness of your nipples as he ran his thumbs across them. You released a moan against his mouth, your fingers grasping at his hair.

"I want you, baby," he confirmed when he let go of your mouth, his eyes burning into yours.

You slowly lowered your arms from around his neck, sliding your hands down his chest. Harry closed his eyes softly as you did so, the touch apparently something he liked. His eyelids fluttering open, his lips parted slightly, he grabbed hold of your dress straps again. When you shuttered this time, Harry titled his head.

"What's wrong?"

"Um..." you stumbled. "It's...it's not...you."

Harry raised his eyebrows, stepping back. "We don't have to do this," he said.

You shook your head. "No, I want to."

Harry stared at you, his gaze silently willing you to speak.

"I...um...had surgery a couple years ago. I still have some...scars. And...I guess I'm a little self-conscious about them," you finally explained. You felt like a huge weight had been lifted off of you.

"Oh, love, it's alright," Harry cooed, stepping closer to you again. "Where are they?"

You dropped your head, gesturing to your chest. "Here."

Harry lifted your chin with his finger, forcing you to look at him.

"Listen to me, Y/N," he said tenderly, "If you don't want me to see them, I'll understand. But just know that I don't mind. You're beautiful. Your body is beautiful."

You felt yourself relax a bit at his words. You sighed before biting your lip, which you released immediately. Harry shook his head.

"You're gonna drive me fucking crazy, baby," he muttered.

"Sorry," you grinned.

"C'mere," he beckoned as he backed into the bed behind him.

He sat down, pulling you to stand between his legs. Running his hands up and down your hips, he lightly kissed your stomach.

"Tell me how I can make you comfortable," he requested.

"What?" you asked in surprise, your hands on his shoulders.

"I want to make you feel good, baby," said Harry. "But first I need you to trust me. So tell me what to do. Would you like the light off?"

You considered his question for a moment. Having the light off would make it easier. He wouldn't see your scars. But then you wouldn't see him either.

"Maybe....um...maybe just the lamp?" you pointed to the small lamp on the bedside table.

Harry turned his head to look at it. "Okay."

You walked over to the table, switching the lamp on before turning off the overhead light. It gave the room a warm glow.

"That's nice," Harry remarked. "What else?"

You shrugged. "I don't know."

"Do you wanna lie down?"

"Okay."

You kicked off your shoes before crawling on the bed, your head falling back on the soft pillow. You heard the sound of Harry's boots hitting the floor as he climbed up next to you, propped up on his elbow. His hand glided across your abdomen, his face inching closer to yours until he kissed you.

As his lips left a trail of kisses down your neck, he shifted on the bed, his leg between yours. You could feel his erection pressing against you while his mouth met your shoulder, just next to your strap, though he didn't move it.

Suddenly his hand on your stomach moved down, finding the hem of your dress. You gasped when his fingers met your panties, pushing them to the side. The pads of his fingers rotated on your clit, causing your breaths to quicken while his mouth still assaulted your neck and shoulders. When his lips came in contact with your dress strap again, Harry lifted his head and looped his other hand through the strap.

"Do you trust me?" he inquired.

Your eyelids were heavy from desire, the sensation of his fingers on your wetness making you see stars.

"Yes," you nodded.

Harry grinned, gently pulling the strap down off your shoulder, releasing your arm through it. He then continued to kiss your shoulder, moving down slowly to your chest. You closed your eyes when you knew he had to be reaching a scar. But he said nothing. He only kissed.

Quicker than you were ready to admit, he stopped his other hand, hovering over you to lower your other strap. His eyes were focused on yours then, with such intensity it almost made you want to cry. After he pulled your arm free from that strap, he finally lowered his head again, kissing your bare skin. Before you knew it, he'd grabbed the hem of the dress and pulled it down further until removing it completely. Lying in only your underwear, you gazed up at him, trying to read his expression.

"You're so beautiful," he said.

You blinked rapidly, biting your lip once more.

"Gimme that," Harry demanded, pulling your lip free with his thumb. Then he captured it between his lips, sucking gently. You let out a mewl, grasping at his shirt.

"Mmm...baby..." he breathed. "Do you still trust me?"

"Yes," you said with more affirmation than before as you watched him slide your panties down your hips.

"Do you want me?"

"God, yes."

Harry sat up, reaching behind himself to grab the back of his shirt, pulling it over his head before quickly returning to your mouth. You ran your hands down his back, bucking your hips against his. He groaned, the restraint of his jeans unacceptable.

Standing from the bed, he produced a condom from his wallet before removing the jeans quickly, as well as his boxers. You watched as he rolled the condom on, then positioned himself over you. His eyes never left yours as you felt the sting of him entering you. You grabbed his waist to guide him inside, where you wanted him the most. You saw his eyelids flutter as he pulled out almost fully before pushing in again.

"Baby..." he cried when he began to thrust faster.

You opened your legs wider for him, making him lift your thigh to get a better angle. The feeling was incredible, and though you didn't want it to end soon, you knew at this rate it would.

Harry cursed as he pumped into you, reaching deep inside. You cried out his name, climbing closer to your peak. Finally when he managed to tap your most sensitive spot again and again, your body shook, erupting with orgasm. Harry soon followed, his body stilling over yours as he came, a low groan rising from his throat.

"Jesus," he exhaled, collapsing on top of you.

You held him for a few minutes, your hands tickling his back. When he finally lifted his head, he planted a kiss on your mouth, and once again traveling down your neck and shoulders. When he reached your chest, he stopped, studying your scars for a few seconds. Ever so gingerly, Harry lifted a finger, tracing them with care. Then he lowered his mouth again, repeating the tracing with kisses.

You thought you heard him mumble something before he looked at you, but you couldn't make it out.

"What?" you asked, curious.

"I said you're wonderful, and beautiful, and you need to know that. So I'm going to make it my mission to make sure you always do."

With a slight smile, you pulled him to you, kissing his lips with fervor. Because you also wanted to make it your mission that he always knew you appreciated him.

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK | PATREON

[carolmunson]

we better make a start (older!modern!eddie)

continuation of orange colored skyorange colored sky setlist

inspired by the fact that i fall in love with someone new every time i go to trader joe's and @loveshotzz new older!steve series. tw: outside of an age gap, not much. super fluffy it borders on gross. eddie is in his late 30s/early 40s, reader is late-late 20s/early 30s. music inspo: everywhere - fleetwood mac

Wednesdays at two… You wished you’d met this guy in the fall when you still felt cute getting off the train. It was like being in a sous vide every time you got on and off, walking back out into the hot sun of the city. Would your hair frizz? Was your makeup melting? You were at least smart enough to wear bike shorts under your skirt to avoid the rubbing of your thighs – hopefully he wouldn’t notice. Your feet hurt in your 90s looking wicker sandals but at a passing glance in a store window you figure you don’t look half bad. You look infinitely better than when he first saw you in your ‘errands ugly’ clothes. Maybe he’d even think you look cute. Y’know – if he’s even there. Why’re you meeting up with some random stranger anyway? A sick flare of nervous embarrassment slides through your chest like a snake – this is stupid. He probably forgot about it. Whatever, you wanted to pick up a couple things anyway – it’s totally fine – this isn’t weird at all – and if he’s not there? It doesn’t matter. Who cares? You’ll be fine. You’ll go home and sift through a never ending collection of left swipes and ‘haha not much, just chillin naked. wbu?’ messages on whatever dating app you feel like opening that day. 

A block and an escalator later, you’re in the depths of the shopping center where Trader’s is. You swallow the sick creeping up in your belly — this is so stupid — but it doesn’t take long for you to spot him at a small table near the coffee stand across from the store. His hair sits in a low bun this time, most of his wavy curls spilling over and framing his face. He looks nice, black tee shirt that he might’ve pressed, smarter looking black chinos with a belt he likely got at a vintage store. The silver buckle looks pretty and polished, shining like the rings on his fingers and the rim of the wire glasses he had perched on his nose. He’s typing away on a laptop, black iced coffee melting next to it that he occasionally reaches to sip.

“Um…You’re Eddie, right?” you stammer out as you walk toward the table. He looks up from his laptop, the glow of this screen reflecting back in his glasses. He stops to look you over, straw still in his mouth. 

“Yeah, that’s me,” he grins, a breath of relief puffing out of his nose, “Didn’t actually think you were gonna show up — was sort of a shot in the dark.” He stands up, hand outstretched for yours to shake, “I never caught your name.” 

You take it, his handshake is firm and you can make out some of the tattoos on his fingers and hands. You introduce yourself and he mumbles a ‘nice to meet you’, your name sounds nice coming out of his mouth. “This feels like a business meeting,” you laugh, “Like I’m here for an interview.” He laughs back, “I did just come here from a meeting so I might still be in work mode, sorry.” He takes off his glasses, hanging them off the collar of his shirt. He packs up his bag, a well worn Jansport backpack covered in patches like the vest he had on the last time you saw him. You could tell it was old since there was a patch right at the center that read ���METALLICA 1997 - Poor Touring Me’. A few other concert patches with ranging dates, 2003, 2009, 1998 littered the black canvas, you smile at it. 

“1997?” you ask, “Metallica concert at what – nine? Your parents were cool with that?” 

He looks down at it and his cheeks go pink, letting a breath puff out of his lips that makes them push out and motorboat, “What year were you born?” “‘92,” you answer, “Why?” 

“Jesus,” he mumbles, rubbing his face with a tight smile, “You’re a young thing, aren’t you?” 

“How old were you in ‘97?” you ask while you both make it through the double doors of the grocery store. He grabs a basket and raises his brows with another big breath. “Seventeen,” he says, “Got this backpack two days before that show actually.” “You still have it?” you ask, trying to do the math in your head of how old he is and how long he’s had it. “Jansport has a lifetime warranty,” Eddie smirks, “I’ve been putting it to good use.” “So why’re you back here,” you ask, following him to the back aisle where the bread is, “You just went food shopping a few days ago.” “I went for my neighbor,” he explains, grabbing two baguettes, “He fractured his foot and hasn’t been able to get up and down the stairs. Been running errands for ‘im in the meantime.” “Oh,” you smile, “That’s nice of you.” “Thanks,” he says, “You like bruschetta?” 

“Why do you ask?” 

“Well,” he starts, “I didn’t really think that Trader Joe’s was an ideal date so I thought I could ask you out here and also get some stuff for it ahead of time.” “Oh,” you repeat, heat creeping up on your cheeks, “What did you have in mind?” 

“Well if you’re free tomorrow afternoon…” he begins, but gets sidetracked. He sneaks behind you to grab some yogurt covered pretzels, “I saw you grab these the other day and got some too, they’re fuckin’ delicious.” 

The spicy suede scent he had last time is replaced with a bright citrusy cedar, it matches his overall disposition. Your mouth waters when you inhale. 

“Anyway, as I was saying,” he starts again, “If you’re free tomorrow afternoon, I’d love to treat you to a little something cute in the park. It’s supposed to be not so swampy.” “Like a picnic?” you ask with a hint of a tease. “Yeah,” he says, a glow of pink perking up on his ears hidden by his hair, “Something like that. If you’re into that – like – if you even want to go on a date with me.” “I showed up here. I feel like that’s answer enough, right?” “Right, right.” The conversation quiets while he tosses a few more things in his basket. “So what was your meeting for?” you ask, watching him look over the cold cuts and cured meats in the open refrigerated section. He was one of those, a ‘stand-and-starer’ instead of just knowing what to get. You try not to grind your teeth. “Oh, new client meeting,” he says, like you know exactly what he’s referencing. 

“For what? If you don’t mind me asking.” He reaches for a package of salami and prosciutto before turning to you, “Do you eat meat?” You nod while he continues to pick up and compare products, “New client for my side gig.” “Which,” he says, tossing his selections in the basket, “If you can believe it, pays a shit ton more than my main gig.” “What’s your big money side gig?” you laugh, following him to the next aisle. “I’m a web developer,” he says, squatting down to look at granola. He hopes you don’t hear the way his knees crack, the way his face winces at the slight tightness in his joints. In Eddie’s defense, he didn’t get a chance to stretch this morning – normally he’s much more limber – he promises. “Like making websites and stuff?” you squat next to him, your own knees cracking. You hope he doesn’t hear it. “Just like that,” he says. He reaches in front of you, grabbing your arm to steady you as you wobble to move out of his way. His grip is gentle but firm, the spots beneath his fingertips buzzing with electricity, “Careful there, sugar.” A smile spreads deep across your face while your eyes make friends with the floor under you, both of you rising back to your feet. His keys jingle on the same carabiner from before, clinking against a silver chain that you’re pretty sure connects to a wallet in his back pocket. He has Nike Killshots on today, the white with a black check instead of the navy. Everyone and their father has the white and navy. “Do you like it?” you ask, holding in a giggle while he grunts getting up. “Writing code and doing graphic design? Sure,” he shrugs, “Got into it really ahead of the game. You were probably still in grade school.” You roll your eyes and he snickers, “But mostly, I make websites for trust fund kids who use daddy’s money to start new businesses. So it’s sort of like my side gig is uh…” “Exploiting the rich?” you grin, he grins too, “Super punk.” He shakes his head while you both walk out into the produce section, “No, no, super metal.”

“What’s your main gig?” “Oh, come on – don’t break my heart,” Eddie’s dramatic flare shines through when he leans up against the flat edge of the pillar holding up the bananas. He holds his free hand to his chest, looking at you with a faux forlorn face that makes his brown eyes shine. Now that you’re really taking stock, you see the thin silver hoop hugging his right nostril – something about it makes your heart thump harder in your chest. “The tattoos don’t give it away, huh?” he asks, passing the basket to the other arm, both biceps flexing against the well tailored t-shirt’s sleeves. 

“A tattoo artist?” you wager a guess with a grimace and half shrug. “No,” he says, the word covered in a soft laugh, “But I’ve been in my artist's shop enough that I might as well get paid to be there.” “I can see that,” you nod, pulling a bunch of bananas from behind him and cradling them in your arm, “So what is it then?” “C’mon, it’s obvious,” he smiles, “I’m a rockstar.” 

“Are you?” you ask, your laugh bubbles out of you and it makes the back of his neck get hot. You’re too pretty to be flirting with him in Trader Joe’s but he can’t stop trying to make you laugh and smile. 

“Well,” he shrugs, kicking off the wall, “Sort of.” “Sort of a rockstar?” your brow lifts while you scan some of the fruits, hand reaching down to a display in front of you, “If you’re doing food food, how about I do dessert?” 

“Peaches, huh?” he asks with a smirk, wrinkling his nose, “A little messy, don’tcha think?” 

“They’re nectarines,” you correct, putting a few in one of the produce bags, “They’re not the same.” 

“Hm,” he shrugs, letting his finger trail over the smooth waxy skin of one of the nectarines in the display, “Whatever you say, Peach.” “Pfft,” you shake your head the same way he did to you, tying off the bag while you try to ignore how the butterflies in your stomach multiply at him calling you Peach. “So if you’re doing dessert that means you’re free tomorrow, then?” he raises his brows, waiting for your answer while you both walk to the checkout line, “You never said if you were.” “Yes I did,” you protest. His tattooed hand reaches out for the nectarines and bunch of bananas you’re holding. You look down at them and then back up at him, Eddie gives you a look, encouraging you to hand them over.

“No, you said you’d go on a date with me – gimme these, I got ‘em–” he beckons you with his hand to take them until you relent, putting them both in his basket, “And trust me, I’m glad you’re down to go on a date with me. But I just wanna make sure you’re around tomorrow so I know to turn on my charm in the morning.” 

“Oh, it’s not on right now?” you flirt. Eddie’s smile gets boyish and shy, tucking a loose salt and pepper collection of strands behind his ear. He’s too blushy to respond, thankful that the Trader Joe’s worker directs you both for the next cashier. He hands you your bananas and nectarines and you plop them into your canvas bag while he finishes up, walking together out of the double doors. 

“Um, could I - uh – damn why am I so nervous to ask you this? What am I, sixteen?” he thinks out loud to himself, furrowing his brow at his own ridiculousness, “Fuck, could I um – get your number?” 

“You already asked me on a date and you’re nervous to get my number?” you tease, “For real?” 

“Long story, I’ll tell you one day,” he says, handing you his phone. He tucks in his lips while you take it, watching eagerly while you put in your information. You save it under ‘Peach 🍑’ with your real name in the second line. 

“Oh what, did it happen all the way back in the 70s or something? Hard to remember?” Your mean girl tone of voice has a hold on him that thrums in his chest. 

“So you’re one of those girls, huh?” he releases his lips, tip of his tongue pressing against one of his canines, “I’ll keep that in mind.” He takes his phone back when you offer it to him, taking a quick second to shoot you a text that just says ‘eddie m.’ Your phone dings in your hand, going to save his number while he watches. 

“M’gonna put it in as ‘Sort of Rockstar’,” you giggle to yourself. “Please don’t.” “Too late.” 

You drop your phone into your canvas bag, giving him a final once over. He does the same and his stare almost makes you nervous with the way his brown eyes soften when they find your face. Not one for awkward silence you reach your hand out like he did when you met outside of the store. “Pleasure doing business with you, Eddie,” you say, a lightness to your voice that has him swooning. His hand takes yours, big and slightly rough, calloused fingertips slightly brushing your wrist. “Pleasure doing business with you,” he says, giving you a firm shake, “Same time tomorrow? At the park?” 

“Sounds good.” 

“I’ll um, I’ll text you. I’ll drop a pin,” he offers. 

You’re both quiet for a moment, anxious with anticipation for tomorrow – for a real date. You say your goodbyes, your ‘see you tomorrows’. Only to both start walking the same direction towards Target. 

“Oh,” you laugh, “Are you going to Target, too?” 

He laughs back, slightly hoarse and rough, smokey sounding, “I am. Should I wait a little? Don’t wanna cramp your style or anything. I know we just said goodbye.” 

“No, no, we can go together,” you smile, big and bright, “We can both decide on what I’m making for dessert.” 

prev | next

[seancekitsch]

Can’t Stand Me Now; a modern Aegon x Stark! reader fic

PROLOGUE: Not if You Were the Last Junkie on Earth

Y/N Stark and Aegon Targaryen. Aegon Targaryen and Y/N Stark. Inseparable since both eldest children met at Kings Landing University, until they weren’t. One night of drunken passion ruins it all.

Five years later, Aegon is coming off a broken engagement to Larissa Lannister and sends a risky Instagram DM to none other than Y/n Stark.

series masterlist here

warnings for the series: smut, smoking, drinking, friends to strangers to lovers, angst, fluff, more to come as needed

It’s finally dark by the time you step out of the underground, a chill accompanying the loss of light. Your old Jeffrey Campbell kitten heels clack along the cobblestones, bare ankles wobbly as you pull your faux leopard coat tighter over your body. Fall is finally settling in after a long hot summer at your boutique without air conditioning, a needed respite. No longer will you be handing out fans to customers or keeping a cooler of ice water behind your register. If you were back home, you’d already be in your parka, too cold to even open a window for a smoke or stand around outside for a pint after work. It never gets quite that cold here, and you have to thank your frozen old gods for that. People bustle around you, nightlife of a Friday already in full swing. You can already see the pub below your flat has a crowd of people spilling out of it into the streets. 

Neon lights the way, your choice of a flat in the Fleabottom area of Kings Landing a deliberate one; for no one wants to live where it’s loud, if they can help it. That means a spacious flat for less funds, more money to put into your boutique and barre classes in a posh neighborhood and expensive liquor to stock your cabinets. You however, thrive in chaos like moth to a flame, a flat above a pub is not an issue, as your last flat had been above a sex shop, the flat above that at Kings Landing University was above a club. Everything in Kings Landing was louder than Winterfell, and for that, you were thankful to blend into its shadows. Here, you were just another face on the train, another chic bitch taking an outfit of the day photo in the alley next to her building. 

It wasn’t always that way, no. When you went to KLU, you were damn near a socialite. Eldest daughter of the richest family in the north, best friends with the eldest son of the richest family in the south. Your whereabouts and your antics had been the subject of more than a few gossip pages and twitter threads, invasive pictures dissecting what you wore posted with price tags and zoomed in inserts of parts of your body you rather strangers not examine. 

But one day that all ended, you gradually disappeared from all of them happily. No longer were you exciting now that you were trying to become a business woman, feeds of your storefront so much less enticing than pictures of you scantily clad in vintage designer dresses and slung across a Targaryen lap.

Luckily, now if someone recognizes you, it’s because you’re the woman from above the pub, you’re the woman with the clothing store with bold prints in every color but green. You wave to a regular you see nursing a pint near one of the stand up tables against the pub, he’s always here after work… for at least five additional hours. Hopefully his wife knows he’s here instead of doing anything less innocent. 

You speed up as you pass more and more storefronts- a weird little skip walk in anticipation to your door, welcome and needed after a successful but busy day. The blue door shines like a beacon, nestled between a venue and a pub. Your key fits easily into the lock, and then the other lock, and the door gives way with only a slight push of your shoulder. How many times have you tried to leave the house and people had been smashed up against it, kissing or worse? You can’t recall, but you attribute it to the annoying stick of your door whether that’s fair or not. 

Slamming the door shut behind you, you trudge up the stairs, shrugging your jacket off and pulling your phone from the inside pocket before throwing it onto the coat rack outside your second door. Your other key works like butter in this one, and no shoving is required. You slam this door as well, and head straight to your window where a vintage brass ash tray and a cigarette lay ready for you. You open the window, a welcome draft accompanied by the din of the crowds. A vibration on your phone distracts you from lighting the cigarette between your fingers.

You figure its Sara, your younger half-sister. She seems to be your only friend these days. A recent graduate of KLU, but still taking daddy’s money, she lives across the city. Every weekend you go out drinking or dancing, twice a week you go to barre class, thrice a week she picks up a shift at your shop. You won’t be surprised if she’s telling you she’s heading over to go out, or inviting you out to one of the more expensive dance clubs in her neighborhood. You’ll go, if that is what she’s asking. Even if you’re almost thirty, that doesn’t mean you’re a homebody yet. You actually like one of the clubs she frequents, so you’ll hope she actually suggests you come to her’s. 

Only it’s not her name on the notification. It’s a message request to your personal, private instagram. You don’t get many of those, and curiosity gets the better of you. You immediately unlock your phone to swipe on the message. 

Message Request:

@ eggtarg: yo. u still single ??

Five Years, Two Months, Ten Days ago

A kiss on your lips, a harsh slap on his cheek, another kiss now this time initiated by you. That’s how this started. Another drunken night now a new drunken tryst.

Aegon’s fist wraps around your hair, yanking your head back harshly as his other hand digs into your hip, a vice-like grip. He slams into you, thrusts harsh and hard. Your fingers curl into his flannel bedsheets, lips hanging open as you moan wantonly for him. 

“Fuck, darling you don’t know how bad I’ve wanted this,” Aegon slurs, his lips finding your shoulder blade as he drapes himself over you, not at all slowing or stopping his pace within you. 

“You’re so amazing,” he moans, praise hot and heavy in his breath against your ear. 

“I never took you for a talker,” you joke with him, but the moan in your voice gives you away. 

He pulls out, only to turn you over and immediately go back to fucking you, reinserting himself gently before immediately snapping his hips into you. Your hands find his hair, nails on his scalp as you bring him down in a kiss, not the first and certainly not the last of the night. He babbles against your skin, kissing you and cutting off his own words, his hands all over you. His hands were always all over you, but this time it was different. 

“I love you,” he whispers, and you feel a hot tear fall and drip down the side of your throat. 

“I love you, you whisper back, hooking your legs around his waist. 

You both finish with tears in your eyes and smiles on your lips. 

He falls asleep combing his fingers through your hair, not unlike a normal sleepover between the two of you, but this time he’s mumbling nonsense about how he’s gonna plan the best date for the next day and how he’s never going to let you go. Aegon makes big promises. He says he’s stop drinking if you asked, says he’d buy a space for the boutique you want to open, says you and he could adopt Sunfyre a younger sibling, says he cannot wait to bring you back to his family estate as his woman and not just a friend. He mentions his mother’s ring.

You fall asleep feeling like there’s a plan for the rest of your life.

When you woke up, he wasn’t there. When you called him, it went to voicemail. When you texted, they stayed on read. 

He became a stranger after that. 

Message Request:

@ eggtarg: yo. u still single ??

Your finger moves, maybe on its own accord, and clicks the message. You can see his profile clearer now. Clicking on it, you notice something immediately. Larissa Lannister, his supposed fiancee, is no where to be found on his feed. Seemingly endless pictures of his cat Sunfyre, pictures of his siblings on family retreats, a Mother’s day post for Alicent, blurry party pictures with a few of his guys from college. It’s as if Larissa Lannister never existed. 

You immediately thumb the little back arrow in the corner when you see a picture of yourself, laughing wrapped in his arms.

But it seems the damage is already done. 

Message:

@ eggtarg: yo. u still single ??

@ eggtarg: ive missed u so much . i cn see uve read darling

Fuck this. Fuck this so incredibly much. You swipe off of the app, immediately calling Sara and putting it on speakerphone before finally lighting the cigarette. 

Sara, always prompt and attached to her phone, picks up after the first ring. 

“You done work?” she chirps on the other side, music in the background telling you she’s already doing make up for the night. Perfect.

“Yeah, listen, do you wanna go all out tonight?” you ask, already knowing the answer. Sara never turns you down. 

[lostgirl677]

Hidden treasure

One-shot

Masterlist

AU imagine where the outbreak never happened.

Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Established relationship

FLUFF

Summary: Y/N found something for Daryl in a thrift store. A real priceless treasure.

A/N: I still struggle to write Daryl accurately. Don't hesitate to leave some feedback.

I came back from the thrift store. There, I found a treasure worthy of all the haggling and near fights in the world. All because it was a gift for Daryl. Yeah, I almost threw punches to get that treasure. But if it was for him, I’d snatch it from the Devil’s hands if needed. I knew that the package wrapped in brown paper was the perfect gift.

When I arrived, Daryl was in the garage, working on his bike as usual. Watching him was always a delight: the way his arms flexed, his hands covered in grease, the occasional swear word escaping his lips. I could watch him all day. He suddenly turned his head towards me, catching me staring like a creep. ”Like what ya seein’, darlin’?”, he asked, his southern accent more pronounced with the day's fatigue. I couldn’t help but grin. “Hell yes.”  I chuckled as I got closer to him. He snorted and smiled. His smile lit up the room. It was good to see him ditching his signature frown for once. He wiped his greasy hands on an old rag and stood up, towering over me like a mountain of muscles and sweat."Good thing ya ma girl. Else I'd be scared of this sexy stranger drooling and undressin' me with her eyes in my garage" he said, smirking as he snaked his arm around my waist. “Good thing indeed. It would be creepy otherwise.” Then, he pulled me closer and I could smell his scent: pine, leather, sweat and smoke. “How was yer day? Thrift store, right?” he asked me. “Yeah. And I have something for you”, I replied. He raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised. “For me? Ya didn’t have to, honey”, he blushed a bit. I smiled again and said “Believe me, I had to. It’s in my car. I’ll be right back”. He reluctantly let me untangle myself from his embrace and I ran to my car with a bounce in my step.

I came back quickly, holding the package. “Here. I hope you’ll like it”. He took it in his hand, looking at me, a bit unsure. “Go on. It won’t bite you” I encouraged him softly.  He finally complied. As he unwrapped the package, I bit my lip in anticipation. Inside, he found a vintage leather jacket. “Well, ain’t that somethin’,” he murmured while his hand caressed the worn leather. Suddenly, his eyes widened and became shiny as if he could cry. It was a rare occurrence for a man like him. And I knew exactly why he was about to cry. His hand ran over the embroidered name William Dixon. He looked at me, shaking slightly. “H-how? Where?” he asked with a quiver in his voice, unable to find the right words. “I remember you told me that your grandfather died on D-Day in Normandy, and your grandmother was pregnant at that moment. And she had to sell some stuff to make ends meet. And somehow, it ended up in this thrift store. I found it hidden under a pile of old clothes in the stall. So, when I saw the name, I knew I had to get it for you. I think it wanted to return to its family" He looked like he was about to cry. I could see the tears welling up, and it took everything in him to hold them.

He was still looking at the jacket with reverence due to a relic. Which it was - a precious relic of his family. I gently took his hand to guide him back inside the house, in front of a mirror. “Try it. It looks like it’s your size”. I said softly. He slowly nodded, and I helped him put it on. Indeed, it fitted him like a glove. He looked dashing in it. “Daryl, you’re really handsome in this jacket. I’m sure your grandfather would be happy that his jacket is now yours. He would be proud of you”, I told him softly as I gently put my hand on his arm. He lowered his gaze to look at me in the mirror’s reflection and grunted softly. Even if he didn’t say anything back, I knew he was touched by my words. He just didn’t trust himself with words right now. When he tried to arrange the jacket on his body, something fell from the inside pocket—an old picture. I went to pick it up and showed it to Daryl. It was a slightly damaged black-and-white picture of a beautiful pregnant young woman. She was smiling, a hand on her swollen belly. “Grandma,” he whispered, his voice shattered a bit. “She was beautiful”, I whispered. He simply nodded, his hand running over the picture. “How about we buy a frame and place it somewhere nice?” I asked softly. His blue eyes twinkled, still wet from unshed tears and he said “Yeah. Sounds good.” Then he turned to face me. “I don’t know how to thank ya, Y/N”. I simply smiled. “You don’t have to. I just brought back home something that’s rightfully yours. I love you, Daryl. That’s all that counts for me.” He finally let his tears fall and said in a strangled voice “I love ya too, Y/N”. He then embraced me in his strong arms, his grandmother’s picture still clutched in his hands. I wiped his tears with my thumbs and arranged his hair gently. 

Later, I decided to place his grandma’s picture on the small desk in our room. And we hammered a coat hook next to it for the jacket. “Lookin’ good”, he simply told me while placing a kiss on my forehead. “Yeah. Now, your grandma and your grandpa are no longer apart”. He simply smiled. And his smile was worth a thousand words.

[helpandhopecenter]

Vintage Clothing Store in Denver, Colorado

Make a statement with vintage clothing Denver, CO shoppers will love their visit to Treasures Thriftique, where second hand dresses, jeans and more are lovingly merchandised in our easy-to-shop store. Discover timeless Levi's, well-crafted suits and dresses from the 80s, 90s and early 2000s.

[grannyandgrandpascreations]

20 oz Gasoline Stainless Steel Travel Mug - Insulated & Stylish for Hot and Cold Drinks

Fuel your day with style! Our 20 oz stainless steel traveling drinking mug features a bold Gasoline-inspired design, perfect for car enthusiasts and vintage lovers alike. Built with double-wall insulation, this mug keeps beverages hot or cold for hours. Its leak-proof lid ensures a mess-free experience whether you’re on a road trip, at work, or relaxing at home. Crafted from high-quality, BPA-free stainless steel, it’s durable, lightweight, and easy to clean. Make a statement with this unique and functional travel companion!

Crafted from sturdy stainless steel, this tumbler is engineered with double-wall insulation to maintain your beverages at the perfect temperature for hours on end. Whether you prefer your drink piping hot or refreshingly cold, this tumbler ensures it stays just right.

Its sleek and slim design feels great in your hand and effortlessly fits into your car's cupholder, making it ideal for travel and daily use.

Complete with a convenient straw and spill-proof lid, this tumbler is designed for ease and practicality. The premium polymer coating not only enhances durability but also showcases vibrant colors with a glossy finish, ensuring the design remains bright and clear.

The slender straight shape makes it a breeze to hold and perfectly compatible with car drink holders. Versatile enough for both hot and cold beverages, it's your go-to companion wherever you roam.

Whether you're hitting the road or relaxing at home, this tumbler combines style with functionality, making it a thoughtful and practical gift for any occasion. Treat your friend (or yourself!) to this stylish tumbler and enjoy the perfect sip, every time.

This tumbler has a premium polymer coating which makes the design colors bright, clear, and complete with a beautiful glossy finish.

- The completely skinny straight shape makes it really easy to handle and even fit into your car drink holders.

- Can be used with Hot and Cold drinks.

- Made using a sublimation printing process that can be more costly than other methods, but it lasts longer, and will not crack or peel over time.

Tumbler Care instructions: Hand wash only- Do not soak in water- Do not use any type of abrasive sponges - Avoiding extreme heat- Not placing in dishwasher as it can be exposed to high heat temperatures. - Never placing your tumbler into a microwave- Allow your tumbler, lid, and straw to air dry

Due to different picture lighting settings the actual color might vary a bit from the pictures.

After a package leaves my hands with the post office, Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations is not held responsible. Current Turnaround Time due to upcoming Holidays - 1-5 Business Days. While we always use priority shipping options, once shipped we cannot guarantee delivery due to the backlog current being experienced USPS/UPS/FedEx. If you have a strict deadline, please message me when ordering so that I can note any rush requests. Ownership of packages turned over to USPS transfers to the Buyer. We are not responsible for lost, held, damaged packages or delayed packages, once your package(s) leaves our Shop it is completely out of our control. Thank you for understanding!

Thank you so much for supporting our "small Granny & Grandpa's Shop", we truly appreciate YOU!

Please visit www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com/shop to view more of our creations!

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Discover Granny and Grandpa's Custom Creations, a family-owned small business in downtown Buffalo, MN. Specializing in custom t-shirts, boutique clothing, flannels, tumblers, and more! Rev up your style with our 20 oz Gasoline stainless steel travel mug! Durable, insulated, and leak-proof, it’s perfect for hot coffee, cold drinks, and on-the-go adventures. Ideal for car enthusiasts!

[nyc-looks]

Eason, 18

“I am wearing a vintage Lanvin blazer, vintage pants, Maison Margiela shirt, and vintage Prada shoes. I found the necklace in a vintage store near my school, I thought it has a kind of Walter Van Beirendonck’s style. I love unisex clothes, I love how clothes make a man beautiful. This is my everyday wear. The clothes that have strong attitude and personality attract me the most.”

Sep 21, 2023 ∙ Greenwich Village

[catboyfelixer]

The Shop Down The Street | Bang Chan

Pairing: Chan x GN!Reader Summary: You've walked down this street many times before, but somehow you never noticed this vintage store until you're literally forced to look at it. They've got some really cool clothes, a huge vinyl record collection, and a cute guy working at the counter. But when you stumble upon a section of the store you shouldn't be able to see, you realize that there's more to this world (and to yourself) than you once thought. Genre: Fluff, Humor, Supernatural Notes: i dont have notes but i will say chan looks really cute in that pic

It was a gust of wind that brought you here, but it felt more like a push. A force at your back propels you forward, and you come face to face with a peculiar shop you've never seen before. "Castlebrook Vintage" the sign out front reads, and through the glass you see a wooden interior filled with racks of clothes and lined with old books on the shelves. It's strange, you walk past this area once a week; surely you would've noticed a cute vintage store here, right?

There's something in your chest pulling at you to go inside, and when you open the door, the chimes echo an intimate song that welcomes you in.

As soon as you step in, you feel the change in temperature. The cold wind is replaced a cozy warmth that is accentuated by the warm yellow lights. You are immediately greeted by an array of interesting clothes, all arranged near the entrance. An old rock song you don't recognize is playing on the speakers, and it accompanies you while you look through the vintage jeans at the front. You're alone in the store, save for a boy beside the counter hanging jackets on a rack. He's quietly singing along to the song, until the drums kick in and he starts hitting the rack with coat hangers as if they were drumsticks. He's got a cute face, and unexpectedly large biceps that are very visible under the black band t-shirt he's wearing. He notices you looking in his direction and flashes a smile, and you pretend you weren't just looking at his arms.

"Need help finding anything?"

"Uh, no! Just browsing," you say, and continue rifling through clothes in an attempt to look busy.

"Alright, if you need anything let me know," he says, and the singing continues as he gets back to work.

To save yourself the embarrassment of being caught checking out a cute guy, you walk further in the store. Long tables stand in the middle of the room, stacked with boxes of vinyl records that are neatly sorted by genre and alphabetical order. Maybe one day you'll take the time to comb through the huge variety of music, but the oddities at the back of the store are what draws your interest.

There's a glass cabinet full of interesting old dinnerware, and walls covered in paintings of ships out at sea. Shelves are full of old technology, old boomboxes and record players. You even spot an Atari with a row of games beside it, but the price of it makes you recoil. You turn around to see other things, and are startled by the life size clown mannequin in the corner you somehow missed. Strangely enough, right when you see it, you feel that same pull that drew you to the store. Beside the mannequin, there's an open door. You can see a tiny portion of the room inside, but the many colors peak your interest.

You carefully walk past the clown and peer into the room. On one side, dark wooden shelves are lined with small glass bottles filled with vibrantly colored liquids. On the other, jars of herbs sit beside crystals and other rocks. The table in the middle is crowded with candles, crystal balls and other weird props that look straight out of a Halloween movie. Bookshelves cover the back wall, and you even see cauldrons and brooms in the corner.

This store must have a lot of interesting clientele.

You enter the room to get a better look, and are immediately hit with the worst headache of your life. Every second that passes feels like it gets stronger, until you're on the floor clutching your head.

You vaguely hear someone talking, but the pain is so strong you can't make out what's being said. And then an instant later, the headache is gone.

"Are you ok?"

You look up from the floor, and see the employee from earlier.

"I... I think so?"

He extends his arm towards you, and pulls you up off the ground.

"Sorry about that," he says, "I didn't know you were gonna walk in there. If you said something earlier, I would've turned that off."

Before you can ask what he meant, he steps into the room and gestures for you to come in, which you oblige.

"So, is there anything you need? Potions are here, ingredients are there, tomes are at the back. If there's anything specific you're looking for, I can get it for you."

He looks at you as if you understand what he's talking about at all.

"What is this place?"

This time, he looks at you as if you've just said something ridiculous.

"You know... the witch room. If you can see this room, you must be a witch, right?"

"Riiiiiiight. The witch room. For witches. Ok."

He pauses for a second.

"You're not a witch, are you."

"Wouldn't that be crazy if I was?" You laugh at the thought, but he looks completely serious.

"Then how did you see this room..." he says, more to himself than to you.

"I mean... the door was open."

"You must have some latent magic in you."

"Yeah, ok sure."

"I know it sounds hard to believe," he says, "but it's the reason you felt that migraine when you walked in here. It's a protection spell. Like an anti-robbery alarm but for witches."

"Or I just get migraines sometimes."

"That would be an incredible coincidence," he says. He walks towards the glass bottles on the shelves. "If we're gonna do this, I should probably do it right." He clears his throat before continuing.

"My name is Chan, and we are witches." He grabs a glass bottle in the shape of a raindrop, pops the cork, and takes a sip of the bright blue liquid inside.

Nothing happens.

"Wait for it..." he says, while nothing continues to happen. "Why is this taking so long-" His body starts to glow blue, and he floats a few inches off the ground. He waves his hand above his head to signal no wires holding him up.

Well damn... magic is real. Or you haven't figured out the trick yet, but magic is more fun to believe.

He floats closer to you and holds out the bottle.

"Wanna try?"

"Uh... I probably shouldn't drink random liquids from strangers."

"You know my name, so I can't be a stranger," he says, before returning the bottle to its place on the shelf, "but I get it. You're missing out though!"

"You said we're witches, right? Can I do magic too?"

"Yup. But I'm guessing you never got taught the basics." He thinks for a bit, and walks towards the back. You follow him to the bookshelves, and he searches through 2-inch thick tomes covered in dust. Finally, he pulls out a thin soft-cover book called 'Magicality: Ages 1-4'. It's bright yellow and the cover has two cartoon bears wearing witch hats.

"Every witch grew up on the Magicality books," he says, handing it to you. "These two bears are my Spongebob. They even made some VHS tapes with these guys and I watched those episodes religiously."

You flip through it, and there's plenty of pictures of the bears teaching the (presumed) infant reader how to do simple and safe spells like making glitter appear, interspersed with jokes and coloring pages.

"This is really cute. Thanks, Chan."

"Read through that, maybe do a word search or two, and you'll have the basics down in no time," he says, "and then come back and I'll teach you more." He winks at you and smiles. "Stuff like this."

He reaches for your hand and opens it, palm up. He traces his fingers on your palm in a circle, and specs of golden light follow his fingers. He slowly lifts his hand and red flower petals materialize one by one, blowing away in the light breeze created by the motion of his hand.

The only way you can describe it is beautiful. Any seed of doubt in the back of your mind disappears; this is real, beautiful magic.

Carefully, the movement slows and his hand goes back down to yours, ending the display.

"Aw, don't stop there..." you say, pouting. He laughs softly.

"I could keep going, or you could come back another time and I'll teach you how to do it yourself."

"So you can sell me another book?" you ask, sarcasm in your voice.

"No, I promise it's not to sell you another book," he says, and places a hand on his heart.

This is the second time he's said he wants to see you again.

"I was gonna sell you a crystal or something, though," he adds. You roll your eyes at that.

"What days do you work?" you ask. He taps his chin, thinking a bit before answering.

"Tell you what. Why don't you text me when you've read Magicality, and I'll let you know my next work day." He pulls out his phone, and opens the 'add contact' screen. "Or you can text me if you just feel like talking."

The cute guy you somehow managed to talk to is asking for your number. He's looking at you with a sparkle in his eye, and you don't know if it's magic or anticipation. Finally, you take his phone and add your information.

"So that's your name. I've been trying to figure out how to ask without ruining the flow of the conversation."

"Oh, sorry. I can't believe I forgot to tell you my name."

"It's all good!" he says, putting his phone back in his pocket. "Before I ring you up for your book, how about I show you one last trick?"

"Really?"

"Yeah! Normal witches are so used to magic that they don't care when something cool happens. But every time I show you something, you have a look of awe on your face. It's really cute."

You hope the blood rushing to your cheeks isn't visible.

"This is my favorite potion. You're gonna be so shocked at what it does."

He walks back to the glass bottles (which you now know are potions) and picks one up shaped like a star. A deep blue liquid swirls around inside as he lifts it.

Once again, he pops off the cork and takes a sip, only this time he recoils at the taste. He looks back and reads the label, and his eyes widen.

"Oh, shit. This was the wrong-"

He doesn't even finish his sentence before collapsing to the ground, face down. The bottle doesn't shatter as it crashes to the ground, but the contents of it spill around him.

"Um."

You stand there in shock for a minute. You walk closer to gently kick his lifeless body, and sigh in relief when he snores. He's not dead, just asleep.

"I'm just gonna... go."

You take out your wallet, pull out a ten dollar bill, and place it on his head. Hopefully that covers the book.

Not sure what to do next, you walk out of the witch room and through the store to the entrance. There's no other employees working there, so with Chan dead on the floor—sorry, asleep on the floor—it's probably not a good idea to leave the store unlocked. Unfortunately, you don't have a key, so you just flip over the 'OPEN' sign to 'CLOSED' and head back home.

[callmeurbunny]

so u wanna be an “it girl”?

do u wanna be a miumiu esoteric lana del rey lily rose depp angelcore my year of rest and relaxation rococo painting coquette 60s french girl dior east coast chanel sylvia plath it girl? the lifestyle may seem exclusive, allusive, unreachable even (i mean, that’s kinda a major facet of the aesthetic/lifestyle) yet there is hope! regardless of your age, race, gender, health status, socioeconomic status, size, you too can be the it girl of your dreams!!

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

clothing:

the simplistic vintage vibes of the style are actually rather easy to thrift! simple sweaters, skirts, etc. tend to go for super cheap (especially in colder/temperate climate regions)

i’ve gotten some of my best pieces via hand-me-downs. my tiffany and co bracelet that i wear daily was a hand-me-down :)

estate sales are another great avenue for true vintage pieces that are unlike any other

tights of all sorts are great accessories. most pharmacies and general stores in the us and mexico sell women’s tights for super cheap and in a variety of styles. i’ve also found many unopened pairs at thrift stores!

knee socks are a great alternative, altough some may find them too youthful for their personal style. definitely don’t knock ‘em til you try em tho!! this is perfect option for people w/ conditions that require compression socks

beauty products:

the makeup is super simplistic and often a little messy. u don’t need much more than some pharmacy mascara, lip gloss, and brow gel. personal fav for the brows is nyx brow glue!

you don’t need fancy chanel or guerlain perfume to smell like a doll. dollar stores & wholesale stores tend to actually have excellent body sprays/perfumes. a favorite of mine is cancan burlesque by paris hilton, found at 5below.

some perfumes offer body spray versions with the same scent, just a cheaper price. my favorite perfume (pink sugar by aquolina) retails for $18 at walmart, yet you can find the near identical body spray version for just $7!

media:

podcasts on spotify are free & have no ads! one i love is nymphet alumni

many books that are cult classics (ie. the bell jar, lolita, my year of rest and relaxation) can be found in free pdf form online

soundcloud, youtube, spotify, and bandcamp all offer free music (although they have ads)

you can find old dvds or even vhs tapes of older films at the thrift store and newer ones are often available on youtube. there’s always sketchy sites like soap2day but i don’t want anyone to get crazy malware!!