#classic advertising

[monkeyssalad-blog]

Vintage Advertisement 1127 - Scotch Tape - 1950s by Johnny El-Rady Via Flickr: 1950s

[calochortus]

Vintage Advertisement 164 - Mephistopheles Torture - 1920 by Johnny El-Rady

[yopodriasertudroga]

Vintage Advertisement 320- Le Lait Royal por Johnny El-Rady Via: www.authenticvintageposters.com/collections/view-all-auth... Le Roi Boit, l'excellent Lait Circa 1930 Artwork by H. Bardin Translation from French. « The king drinks the excellent milk Consumers, do like him”

[maxz-b]

be overcome with a sad hollowness at the prospect of no f1 for three months. like a winner. part 24/???

[vegaduke]

1959 Cadillac Coupe DeVille

[coolvintagecars]

Hillman Super Minx (1960)

[vintagecamping]

Advertisement for the mighty Jeep Gladiator.

National Geographic

1966

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Bad Guy x Reader

I am currently in my Natural Born Killers nostalgia, and so I'm borrowing its vibes and bringing you this: a bad-to-the-bone, rock-and-roll attitude yandere who constantly makes you question your own morality. Featuring an old OC!

Content: gender neutral reader, violence, murder, male yandere

He fell in love with you at first sight. A goody two shoes, quiet and obedient. Shy. Oh, terribly shy. You couldn't even meet his eyes. He knew you were the kind others would step on, take advantage of. But there was more to it, much more to uncover.

Who was it? A relative, a friend, a coworker? You know, that person holding you back, keeping you in your place. The one who'd always make you feel small and insignificant. The one who would always find something to criticize. How did it feel when you found them on the ground, bashed in and bloodied up? He was standing above the lifeless body, catching his breath, a cocky smile plastered on his face. His way of courting you.

He looked so tall in that moment, towering above your hesitant self, his gaze of a confidence and intensity you'd never known before. "Well? What are you waiting for? Get in", he said, gesturing towards a convertible he most likely stole earlier that day. What possessed you in that moment to join him without delay? Was it his charisma? Or did you know in the depth of your soul that he wouldn't take no for an answer?

You see, he's known it from the beginning. Someone like you needs someone like him. You’re a sweet little lamb lost among the wolves. The world would eat you right up if you were left by yourself. But now you have him. And he won't let his precious prey get away. Oh, dear, no. If he wants something, he gets it. And he's never wanted anything more than you.

"You didn't...even tell me your name", you sheepishly spoke up from the passenger seat, trying to keep your mind away from the crime you'd just witnessed. "Just call me Tig", he said casually with a yawn, speeding away. "Won't you be in trouble, Tig? Why would you even kill-" you tried to reason. "What kinda question is that? They treated you like shit and it pissed me off." He glanced at you with a frown, taking another drag off his cigarette. "You're mine now, so whatever happens to you is my business. Got it?" You just stared. Was that his way of asking you out?

Tig lives by his own rules, as you quickly learned from becoming his companion. Always on the run, indifferent to the world. For the most part, to your surprise, he's well-behaved. If people don't mess with him, he doesn't mess with them. Simple as that.

Anything involving you, however, sets him off terribly. Like a rabid, ferocious guard dog, he's ready to pounce on whoever approaches you the wrong way. Last week you stopped at a highway diner for coffee, and on your way back to your table, you jokingly pulled a clumsy dance move to the song playing from the speakers. Tig observed you with an amused smile, sipping from his cup. A passerby joined you, resting his arm on your waist flirtatiously. Tig's smile dropped in an instant, and next thing you knew, the whole place was splattered in blood. No one made it out.

"I didn't even finish my coffee", you whined, already used to the occasional massacre. The man hopped behind the counter and threw on a bloodied cap. "What will it be, sir/ma'am?" he pretended, dangling a takeaway cup and starting the espresso machine. "I never told you, but I used to be a barista", he declared proudly. An entirely different person from the unhinged killer you witnessed minutes ago. "What? You said you were a mechanic", you questioned with raised brows. "That's also true. I'm a jack of all trades, I suppose. You know what I'm best at, though?" He lowered himself until his forehead touched yours. "Pleasing you."

The man is romantic in his own way. He twists the key, and the engine stops. You follow him out of the car in confusion. "Why did we stop here?" He briefly lifts himself up onto the tall fence securing the bridge, and inhales deeply. "Isn't it a nice view?" he says, nodding ahead. It is a scenic sight, sure. The river slithers along the lush valley, and the setting sun gives everything a dramatic tint. "Give me your hand", he suddenly demands as he goes to grab it himself. Before you can ask for an explanation, he quickly drags a blade across your palm, and you wince in pain. He repeats the gesture with his own hand, locking his fingers with yours over the rail. You watch as fresh blood trails along your skin, eventually falling into droplets and vanishing into the river. "Now we're going to be everywhere", he remarks playfully. "Okay, but what was the point?" you insist, a little baffled.

"Isn't it obvious? Maybe this will help", he continues, procuring a ring from his pocket. "I'm saying I want to marry you, (Y/N)."

You open your mouth to answer, but he already slides it up your finger, eyes glimmering in excitement.

"You're never getting away from me, love."

[disease]

BRAM STOKER'S DRACULA [WMS | USA, 1993]

[oriental-sea-witch]

"The Sportsman"

1934 H&R Sportsman Model 999 (United States) .22LR

Harrington & Richardson's top-of-the-line Top-Break, Double-Action, Adjustable Sight, Nine Round revolver produced from 1932 to 1986. Examples like this, with the single piece walnut grip, were only made until 1952.

A masterfully crafted revolver from a bygone era of American commercial small-arms that paid no mind to the concept of "self-defense" and focused entirely on you and your buddies heading out for an afternoon of good old-fashioned backyard plinking and terrorizing the local squirrel population.

For decades, humble "sporting" rimfire handguns like the H&R Sportsman, Colt Woodsman, Ruger Mark 1, and High-Standard HD series dominated a segment of the American pistol market that was more focused on blasting tin cans off fence posts rather than being kept on the nightstand to blast holes in errant home-invaders.

H&R's Model 999 never fought in any wars, and never served with any military, but its top-break design and sturdy wood and steel construction takes you back to a fascinating era where auto-loading pistols were still seen as untrustworthy and unreliable novelties when compared to the tried and tested double-action revolvers of yesteryear.

Even at 91 years old with most of its original finish and bluing long-gone, this revolver still functions like it's the summer of 1934. When the same sun shined upon a completely different world.

[asceneoutofaserbianfilm]

Do Androids Dream of Electric Sex?

[monkeyssalad-blog]

Love and Marriage 116 - Why bother with a Gypsy Teller - Just Send A Message - 1915 by Johnny El-Rady Via Flickr: Photoplay Magazine, January 1915

[ilovemesomevincentprice]

The Times Herald vintage ad for House on Haunted Hill (1959)

[stone-cold-groove]

From the car files: cover of the 1968 Ford Mustang brochure.

[carsthatnevermadeitetc]

Range Rover advertising image, 1991. This is near the end of the lifespan of the Range Rover Classic which was replaced in 1994 after 24 years in production, the longest of any Range Rover generation

[vegaduke]