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#1927 hotel
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Celebrating The Restored Hacienda Hotel
New Port Richey, Florida
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thesapphocinephile · 9 months
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Garbo: The Legacy
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September 18th, 1905- April 15th, 1990 (84 years old)
Active Years: 1920-1941 (21 years)
Total Films: 33
Oscar nominations: 4
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a-hazbin-spider · 2 months
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(@marigold-serafine-1927) a Cajun cat named serafine approached angel with a bigger male cat named Nicodeme while Angel was at some sleazy bar with the two cats settling on either side of him
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It isn’t uncommon that he be taken notice of, sat next to- the whole nine yards. But it wasn’t a guarantee he’d be the most agreeable. He isn’t fond of how the set up looks. A brow quirks, but he wouldn’t face either one, much rather pay attention to his glass. “C’n I help ya’s wit’ somethin’? I ain’t a cheap night firs’ an’ foremost.”
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onefootin1941 · 7 months
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Sherry Netherland Hotel on 5th Avenue.
(Photo by Theiman/NY Daily News Archive via Getty Images) 1927
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Pavilions of the Hotel in Sa Pa, Vietnam
French vintage postcard, mailed in 1927
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angelitam · 1 year
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Quand les liqueurs et les vins sont sources d'inspirations olfactives
Les parfumeurs peuvent trouver de l’inspiration dans les liqueurs et les vins. 2013 ALIEN LIQUEUR THIERRY MUGLER Tous les éléments qui nous entourent, qui font partie de notre quotidien, peuvent être des sources d’inspiration pour les parfumeurs. Les vins, les liqueurs et leurs arômes peuvent être utilisés en parfumerie. Parmi ceux que je connais, ce sont les fragrances imaginées par Thierry…
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konstantya · 2 years
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Tfw you run across two wildly different images, from two wildly different eras and mediums, that still manage to have a surprisingly similar vibe.
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beesofbumble · 2 years
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dozydawn · 7 months
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“Budapest, Hungary, circa 1991. Covered swimming pool of the thermal baths of Gellert hotel unveiled in 1918 and built up in 1927.”
Photographed by Roger Viollet.
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the1920sinpictures · 2 days
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1927-28 The Barbizon Hotel for Women was built. It was a residential hotel and clubhouse for single women moving to New York City and it is located at 140 East 63rd Street. From the New York City Landmarks Preservation Commission, FB.
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fountainofsnow · 1 year
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Dark City (1998) dir. Alex Proyas
Edward Hopper, Hotel Lobby (1943) Office at Night (1940) Rooms by the Sea (1951) Drug Store (1927) Night Windows (1928) High Noon (1949) Chair Car (1965) Lighthouse Hill (1927)
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beejunos · 1 month
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SINNERMAN | Alastor x f.reader | part 3.
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Summary: After Sir Pentious’s failed attempt at spying on the hotel, the Vees approach you to make a new deal—a deal that you can’t refuse. Help them take down Alastor, and you will get to kill him again. After all, the great butcher of New Orleans had killed your brother, so it was only fair that you had killed him in return. And you would love to do it again.
Tags: Alastor x f!reader, slow burn, obsessive behaviour, enemies to lovers, spying, murder
PART 1. | PART 2. | AO3
Chapter 3. Brother, oh, brother
August 21st, 1927. New Orleans. 
The day had been unusually cold for New Orleans in August, but the radio station quickly turned warm as its employees and their families congregated in its halls to celebrate the station's explosive expansion. The clock had just turned ten o'clock at night, and laughter could be heard blending effortlessly with the music from the live band. 
The radio station's celebration occurred in its most splendid room, an old salon converted into a restaurant and lunch room. From the ceiling hung beautiful crystal chandeliers that cast a wonderfully warm glow over the crowd of people mingling all around. The walls were painted in a deep, rich indigo that made the room feel more luxurious and intimate, with dark stained wooden accents and an oak floor. On the ceilings could a faint trace of paint still be seen from a time the ceiling had been painted, but there was no possibility of interpreting what the images were anymore.
You admired the incredible art that hung on the walls as you zigzagged through the people to get to where you thought you had seen your brother. You quickly apologised to anyone you bumped into as you squeezed between groups to avoid disturbing them. Mindful of the cream-coloured dress you had bought with your own money after working long hours as a secretary at the police station, you pressed it close to your body so it never snagged on anything or anyone else. It was the closest thing you would ever come to being considered a flapper. Something you longed for desperately. To be as free as them.
However, that would never be in the cards for you. Born from one of the wealthiest families in New Orleans, it was a miracle that your mother and father had let you work at the police station at all. Like any good daughter, you loved your parents deeply, but sometimes you wished they would loosen their leach on you. 
Thankfully, you had your brother, who could get away with anything. As the eldest son, your parents expected him to one day take over the family business, but in the meantime, they let him do whatever he wanted. This led him to now work at the radio station as one of their hosts, but it was only temporary if your father would have a say. 
Your brother, Joshua, had always been a wild child. Full of energy and a lust for life that you had never seen in anyone else, and as children, he had always had the nasty habit, according to your mother, of dragging you off into his various adventures. All of these minor adventures constantly ended with both of you coming home with dirt and grass stains all over your white clothes. 
These small adventures never really ended, and even now, when both of you were adults, he would often help you escape your parents and their restrictive ways. Joshua frequently talked bout how when he was the head of the family business, he would buy you a one-way ticket to New York just so one of you could be free. But, in the meantime, he would invite you to various events that he and his friends would hold. This time, he had invited you to the event at the radio station. 
You continued to squeeze past a larger group where one of the older men laughed rather loudly at one of his jokes before you saw your brother. You called out his name as he started to walk in the other direction. Hearing his name, Joshua quickly spun around and met your gaze with the same boyish smile you had grown up with.
"There she is!" he called and held out his hand to pull you into the group he was talking to. "Everyone, I want you all to meet my little sister." 
They all greeted you by saying their own names, and you really tried to remember every single one of them. However, after a long evening of new faces, names, and job titles, it became pretty difficult to remember who was who. 
"Where's Alastor? Shouldn't he be here by now?" asked a woman with short red hair as she lit a cigarette. Her emerald green dress sparkled like green stars in the evening light, and you felt a tiny bit jealous since your parents would never allow you to wear anything that beautiful. You had to think of the good family name and reputation, as they would have said.
"Oh, I saw him just a few minutes ago," Joshua answered unhelpfully as he started to look around the crowd. However, he was a short man and could not see that far over the crowd. 
"He's dancing, as always," chuckled one of the men beside the redhead as he took her cigarette and used it himself. They looked so lovingly at each other that you had to turn away, for it felt like you were invading their tender moment. 
"Ah, there he is. Hey, Alastor! Over here!" shouted Joshua beside you and threw his arm in the air. Waving someone over to your group. Forward stepped maybe the most beautiful man you had ever seen. The description 'Tall, dark and handsome' felt like it was made specifically for him. 
Alastor towered over the group but wasn't as lanky as most men his height could be. His broad shoulders and chest balanced him out significantly, creating a statuesque figure that made you think of the marble sculptures of gods and heroes from the old masters. He dragged his hand through his dark brown hair, which was tussled from all the dancing, and you silently wished that it was your hands dragging through his hair just so you could see if it felt as silky as it looked. 
He was dressed in a beautiful maroon-striped suit that wonderfully complemented his warm brown skin, and a small treacherous part of your mind wondered what colour his skin would take if you dragged your nails over his back or chest. 
As he got close enough to join the group, you finally saw his eye colour behind his round glasses. A rich brown that you knew would turn almost golden in the sunlight. The kind of brown eyes that the poets wrote about. A lover's gaze so sweet that it could heal any broken heart. Brown eyes as sweet as honey, brown eyes like a fire-lit light, brown eyes as rich as the depth of earth. He was mysterious, intoxicating, and your heart nearly skipped a beat when he looked down at you with his brilliant smile. 
"And who might this charming belle be? I don't think we've met before." 
You thought you were going to die the moment Alastor took your hand and placed a featherlight kiss on your knuckles as butterflies erupted in your stomach. Your name felt almost foreign on your lips, but oh so right, leaving his.
Behind you, you could hear your brother snort loudly before he playfully hit Alastors shoulder.
"Settle down; that's my little sister you're flirting with." That statement only made Alastor chuckle before he let go of your hand, and you instantly missed his warmth. 
"Alastor? I don't think I've heard your name on the radio. Are you a host or perhaps an audio engineer?" you asked, desperate to continue to talk to the man. 
Alastors smile only grew as he looked down at you. From the inside pocket of his suit, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.
"I'm a host, my dear. I host the show after Joshuas," he said as he lit his cigarette and put it to his plush lips. You had to implore a tremendous amount of self-control not to openly stare at his lips and his long fingers as he held the cigarette between his index and middle fingers.
Even his hands are perfection, you thought in despair.
"The Evening Hour? Oh, I've heard about it! You play by far the best jazz in all of New Orleans." 
The smile Alastor gave you felt the most genuine he had made all evening. It made you wonder how often he had to smile to hide his true feelings. 
The rest of the evening went by in a haze as you continued to talk to Alastor, and it peaked when he asked you to accompany him to a dance. The lights felt brighter, the music forever tied to the memory of Alastor's hand between your shoulder blades. It was a moment in time when you forgot who you were and what life you were expected to live. 
For a moment, you were only a girl in the arms of a boy when an infatuation took root in your heart. But all nights end, even the ones that feel like dreams, and soon you were forced to say goodbye to the man with the bewitching smile and beautiful eyes as you and your brother prepared to go home. 
The road home was dark and cold as you walked through street after street. It felt lonelier than you expected, for Joshua did not say a single word to you. You hugged your too-thin summer coat around you as you and your brother took the backdoor through the kitchen to your home.
The room was dark and empty, just as both of you had suspected, and the only things you could see were the contours of objects in the light of the moon. Both you and Joshua quickly took off your shoes before you prepared yourselves to tip-toe through the big house. 
You were halfway through the kitchen when you heard Joshua whisper your name in the dark. You turned to look at your brother, who was still standing by the door.
"Don't ever talk to Alastor again."
"What? Why?" you asked, shocked because Joshua had never demanded anything of you before, but there was a coldness to his voice that you did not like. He had an odd look on his face that you had never really seen before, and it made you hesitate, for it matched the look your father usually had before taking his anger out on others.
With a forceful tone in his voice, your brother turned to you and said, "Just stay away from him. I can't quite put my finger on it, but there's something about him that makes me feel uneasy." It wasn’t a plea; it was a demand and the type of demand that left no room for negotiations.
He gave you a quick glance before hastily making his exit from the kitchen, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
Joshua never invited you to the radio station after the celebrations, so you had no real reason to go over there and talk to Alastor. Days turned into weeks, and slowly, you had to accept that your one night with the man would only be that one magical night.
You had, however, no idea that your life would come crashing down on you. 
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November the 3d, 1927
It has been two long weeks since Joshua went missing, and your mother was beyond distraught. She has secluded herself in her bedroom, allowing only food and drink to be brought in and refusing to speak to anyone else but you. The only words she utters were those of cold certainty - she knows Joshua is dead. But you and your father adamantly refuse to believe her words. 
Your father, who has always been a reserved and complicated man, had begun working longer and longer hours, dreading the thought of coming home to what remains of his family. Meanwhile, you were doing your best to keep the family functioning, but the constant worry and sleepless nights were taking their toll. 
You tried to hold onto hope that Joshua had just run away, finally fed up with your father's controlling behaviour. But deep down, you know that Joshua would never have left you behind. 
He had made you an important promise—to get you out of this town and as far away from your parents as possible. You clung to this promise even as the days dragged on with no news of Joshua's whereabouts. The uncertainty and fear were nearly unbearable, but you refused to give up hope.
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November the 7th, 1927
The police came knocking on your family's door in the evening. You had taken the day off from work to care for your mother when one of the policemen you knew from the office asked to talk to your father. 
"He isn't home right now," you answered hesitantly. Your father hadn't been home in a few days, and you had no idea when he would come home again. You would call his office every evening to ensure he was all right, but from your short phone calls with your father, you could tell he was not doing well. 
"Do you know when he will be back?" the officer asked, giving you a look you knew all too well. You saw it all the time in the police station. It was the same sympathetic look newer officers would give families when they had only bad news to deliver.
Pushing your shoulders back, you took a deep breath and asked the question that you did not want the answer to.
"You've found Joshua's body, haven't you?"
 The officer heaved a sigh as he looked at you with heavy eyes. A bird could be heard singing its sorrowful song somewhere in the distance as you waited for your colleague's answer. 
"A part of Joshua's body was found about five miles outside of the city. Some hunters in the area found him." 
"A part?" you asked, shocked. "But if it was a body part you've found, how can you be sure it's Joshua's?" 
Your voice rose in pitch with every word you uttered. If only the police had found all of him. If only Joshua had run away and never returned. 
"His head. We have found his head." 
Ice-cold fear pierced your heart as a piece of your soul died right there, in the hallway of your family home on a Monday evening. Your father refusing to come home, a mother who would never be the same, and all you wished was that you were in New York. Far away from everything. 
"I'm sorry to inform you and your family, but your brother was killed by The Butcher."
The butcher, a serial killer who had hunted New Orleans for the past year. Always so far away, jet so near, and now he had spilt his filth all over your family. Destroyed and mutilated your lives. A demon among men. 
A demon whose shadow now towered over you, laughing at your weak soul. Laughing at your misery and sorrow. 
A monster and everyone knew that monsters were to be hunted like the animals they were.
You would see the end of the butcher if you so died trying.
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A little flashback. Oh, how the wide-eyed wonder died fast.
Taglist: @martinys-world @tremendoushearttaco @fairyv-ice @azmosposts @nyx91
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thefeaturesof · 3 months
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Agatha Christie Books in Order.
Hercule Poirot Books
Hercule Poirot Collections
Miss Marple Books
Miss Marple Collections
Tommy and Tuppence Books
Tommy and Tuppence Collections
Superintendent Battle Books
Standalone Novels
Short Story Collections
Non-Fiction Books
Agatha Christie Hercule Poirot books in order
Here are the names of Agatha Christie’s Hercule Poirot books in order. It will help you start with your reading while ensuring the best experience.
The Mysterious Affair at Styles (1920)    
The Murder on the Links (1923)     
The Murder of Roger Ackroyd (1926)      
The Big Four (1927)    
The Mystery of the Blue Train (1928)     
Peril at End House (1932)     
Lord Edgware Dies (1933)    
Murder on the Orient Express (1934)      
Three Act Tragedy (1935)    
Death in the Clouds (1935)   
The A.B.C. Murders (1936)   
Murder in Mesopotamia (1936)      
Cards on the Table (1936)    
Dumb Witness (1937)  
Death on the Nile (1937)      
Appointment with Death (1938)    
Hercule Poirot’s Christmas (1938)  
One, Two, Buckle My Shoe (1940)
Sad Cypress (1940)     
Evil Under the Sun (1941)    
Five Little Pigs (1942)  
The Hollow (1946)      
Taken at the Flood (1948)    
Mrs. McGinty’s Dead (1952)  
After the Funeral (1953)      
Hickory Dickory Dock (1955)
Dead Man’s Folly (1956)       
Cat Among the Pigeons (1959)      
The Clocks (1963)       
Third Girl (1966)
Hallowe’en Party (1969)       
Elephants Can Remember (1972)  
Curtain (1975)      
The Monogram Murders (2014)
Agatha Christie Hercule Poirot Collections in Order
Poirot Investigates (1924)    
Murder in the Mews (1937)
The Labours of Hercules (1947)
Poirot’s Early Cases (1974)
Agatha Christie Miss Marple Books in Order
Here is the list of Agatha Christie’s books in order based on their publication date.
The Murder at the Vicarage (1930)
The Body in the Library (1942)      
The Moving Finger (1942)    
A Murder is Announced (1950)      
They Do It with Mirrors (1952)      
A Pocket Full of Rye (1953)  
4:50 From Paddington (1957)       
The Mirror Crack’d (1962)    
A Caribbean Mystery (1964)
At Bertram’s Hotel (1965)    
Nemesis (1971) 
Sleeping Murder (1976)
Agatha Christie Miss Marple Collection in Order
The Thirteen Problems (1932)       
Miss Marple’s Final Cases (1979)
Agatha Christie’s Tommy and Tuppence Books in Order
Here’s the list of Agatha Christie Tommy and Tuppence Books in Order
The Secret Adversary (1922)
N or M? (1941)  
By the Pricking of My Thumbs (1968)     
Postern of Fate (1973)
Agatha Christie’s Tommy and Tuppence Collections in Order
Partners in Crime (1929)
Agatha Christie’s Superintendent Battle Books in Order
Here’s the list of Agatha Christie Superintendent Battle Books in Order
The Secret of Chimneys (1925)      
The Seven Dials Mystery (1929)   
Cards on the Table (1936)    
Murder is Easy (1939)
Towards Zero (1944)
Agatha Christie’s Standalone Novels in Order
Here’s the list of Agatha Christie Standalone Novels in Order
The Man in the Brown Suit (1924)  
Giant’s Bread (1930)   
The Sittaford Mystery (1931)
Unfinished Portrait (1934)    
Why Didn’t They Ask Evans? (1934)       
And Then There Were None (1939)
Absent in the Spring (1944)  
Death Comes as the End (1944)    
Sparkling Cyanide (1945)     
The Rose and the Yew Tree (1948)
Crooked House (1949)
They Came to Baghdad (1951)      
A Daughter’s a Daughter (1952)    
Destination Unknown (1954)
The Burden (1956)      
Ordeal by Innocence (1958)
The Pale Horse (1961)
Endless Night (1967)   
13 at Dinner (1969)    
Passenger to Frankfurt (1970)       
The Murder at Hazelmoor (1984)
Agatha Christie’s Short Story Collections in Order
Here’s the list of Agatha Christie Short Story Collections in Order
The Mysterious Mr. Quin (1930)    
The Hound of Death (1933)  
The Listerdale Mystery (1934)       
Parker Pyne Investigates (1934)    
The Regetta Mystery and Other Stories (1939)
The Witness for the Prosecution and Other Stories (1948)  
Three Blind Mice and Other Stories (1950)      
The Under Dog and Other Stories (1951)
The Adventure of the Christmas Pudding (1960)       
Double Sin and Other Stories (1961)      
Star Over Bethlehem and Other Stories (1965)
The Golden Ball and Other Stories (1974)
The problem at Pollensa Bay and Other Stories (1991)    
The Harlequin Tea Set (1997)       
While the Light Lasts and Other Stories (1997)
Agatha Christie’s Non-Fiction Books in Order
Here’s the list of Agatha Christie Non-Fiction Books in Order
Come, Tell Me How You Live (1946)       
Agatha Christie: An Autobiography (1977)
Top 10 Agatha Christie Books to Read
Given the number of books in the Agatha Christie series, readers generally hesitate to begin. Further, to understand the series well, one needs to read Agatha Christie’s novels in order. To ease things, the readers generally look for the best novels or books to read them directly and avoid all the hassle. So here are the top 10 Agatha Christie novels that will offer you the best mystery story reading experience.
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blues824 · 9 months
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I love the way you write the headcanons about the First Years + Ortho going to the reader's world! Could you do the same with the Second Years, please?
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Riddle Rosehearts
Favorite Country/City: He would love to go visit Stratford-Upon-Avon in England, as he is one to enjoy being in the city of one of the most famous playwrights and authors in history: William Shakespeare. Also, there is tea available at most shops, so he will still be able to follow the Queen of Hearts’ rules.
Favorite Cuisine/Dish: Again, his favorite dish is strawberry tarts, and they apparently originate in France as tarts were used to showcase the seasonal not-berries. That aside, he also does appreciate French cuisine as a whole.
Favorite Drink: Again, he enjoys tea, but I think he would like strawberry lemonade. More specifically, the strawberry lemonade from those restaurants that put those slices of strawberries into the drink.
Favorite Souvenir: A small Shakespeare bust that he can place on a bookshelf as a book holder.
Favorite Singers/Songs: He absolutely loves classical music, specifically from the Classical Era. He prefers the classics: Bach, Beethoven, Marianna Martines, etc. Favorite song would be Für Elise, by Ludwig van Beethoven.
Favorite Movie: The Phantom of the Opera, but the 1927 silent film version.
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Ruggie Bucchi
Favorite Country/City: I originally was going to say that he would have liked Luxembourg because it’s one of the richest countries in the world, but I decided that would be too easy. I feel like he would love to go to Cairo in Egypt. It’s very rich in history and culture, and I’ve heard they have good food (someone confirm, plz).
Favorite Cuisine/Dish: His favorite food is donuts, and I looked it up and they apparently originate from either Ancient Greece/Rome or Medieval Arab chefs. That being said, either cuisines (Greek, Italian, or Middle Eastern) would be his favorite. He has a very diverse palate.
Favorite Drink: Depending on if he prefers coffee or tea, he would like either Mazboot or even Zjada coffee, or karkade (please correct me on any of this, I am not from the Middle East and have never been so if it’s incorrect you can tell me. Got this info from online).
Favorite Souvenir: A small, handmade pot that he found at one of the markets. He thought it looked interesting and thus purchased it. The vendor was really kind as well.
Favorite Singers/Songs: This is kind of hard, but AMERICAN HORROR SHOW by SNOW WIFE would be his favorite, meaning hyperpop would be his favorite genre. He gives me TikTok boy vibes for some reason, and he would also like most songs that popped up on his FYP.
Favorite Movie: Lion King, and I’m not trying to be funny. He just likes the “It’s not funny, Ed”, where Ed erupts even more into laughter. It makes him snicker a bit as well. Maybe I was trying to be funny.
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Azul Ashengrotto
Favorite Country/City: He would love the township of Cavendish in Prince Edward Island, Canada. It’s got the ocean, it’s got the small town vibes, and it inspired L.M. Montgomery’s fictional town of Avonlea in Anne of Green Gables. Speaking of, he would totally resonate with Anne because they both entered a society that they weren’t knowledgeable of the norms of. 
Favorite Cuisine/Dish: Because he loves fried chicken, I would say his favorite cuisine is that of the Southern United States. You can’t go wrong with coleslaw, cornbread, green beans, mashed potatoes, and Southern hospitality.
Favorite Drink: Iced Tea, specifically from the Southern states as well. If we’re talking about cocktails, then Long Island Iced Tea would be his go-to. However, he prefers to drink at home because he doesn’t have to call anyone to pick him up.
Favorite Souvenir: It’s stated that he likes collecting coins, so yeah.
Favorite Singers/Songs: This man loves Elvis Presley’s music, and no one can fight me on this. He’s a bit of a hopeless romantic, so he loves either Heartbreak Hotel or Can’t Help Falling in Love is his favorite song.
Favorite Movie: Romeo and Juliet, the one starring Leonardo DiCaprio. The movie’s great, the actor not so much. He’s a bit of a hopeless romantic, as I stated before, so he would very much like a Romeo to his Juliet. Mans wants to be in a tower with a window sill and he wants someone to be standing below to talk to in a romantic way.
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Jade Leech
Favorite Country/City: He loved going scuba diving in the Mariana Trench, and since the Trench is located between Hawaii and the Philippines, I think he would love staying in the Philippines. The city he favors would be Boracay, even though it’s in the middle of the Philippine Islands and a bit further from the East.
Favorite Cuisine/Dish: His favorite dish is octopus carpaccio, and it’s kind of obvious that it’s Italian. He does enjoy Italian cuisine as a whole as well. However, if we are taking the octopus components of the dish, then I believe he would also be a lover of Japanese cuisine.
Favorite Drink: It is recommended that with octopus carpaccio, you should have a Pinot noir, and he agrees. However, if he’s just going to a bar, he would order a limoncello spritz. It’s typically a post-dinner drink, and he likes the lemon flavor along with the kind-of-like-soda, kind-of-like-wine game that the drink offers him.
Favorite Souvenir: He loves smaller, easily portable trinkets, so as basic as it is he loves collecting keychains and magnets. His favorite keychain is a shell that had a hole in it, and a small child actually handed it to him out of nowhere. He got a ring and attached it to his backpack.
Favorite Singers/Songs: His favorite song is 24 / 7 / 365, by Surfaces. It’s laidback, it’s chill, and he likes it. Songs that remind him of the beach are ones that he likes. He plays it when he’s attending to his terrariums. 
Favorite Movie: Jaws, and none of the sequels. All the sequels suck. He has watched the first Jaws so many times that he sings along with Quint when he starts singing “Farewell and Adieu You Fair Spanish Ladies”. 
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Floyd Leech
Favorite Country/City: He wants to go places where he can do things whenever it strikes him. He would also want to go somewhere with clear water. Thus, I believe he would love to go to Tahiti. There’s a market, he can go scuba diving with whales and sharks, he can go surfing, he can go to the museum, and if he wants to stay in his hotel room then he can.
Favorite Cuisine/Dish: His favorite dish is Takoyaki, so I think it’s safe to assume that he likes Japanese cuisine. However, it is stated that shiitake mushrooms come from mountainous regions in China, Japan, Indonesia, and Taiwan, so he likes any dishes without the mentioned mushrooms.
Favorite Drink: As funny as it is, Sex on the Beach, as it’s a summer drink that he loves to enjoy on the beach. Also, he has the emotional maturity of a 7th grade boy, and the name was hilarious to him. 
Favorite Souvenir: Two little figurines of a guy and a girl dancing with each other. They fit together in a way that was complex, making it a puzzle of sorts.
Favorite Singers/Songs: Either Laffy Taffy or Sneaky Link 2.0 are his favorite songs. This man is searching for his Mrs. Bubblegum. He is looking to be somebody’s sneaky link. He lives for drama, and no one can tell me otherwise.
Favorite Movie: The Meg, because who doesn’t love a giant, prehistoric shark that escapes from the gaseous layer at the bottom of the Mariana Trench? He has sharp teeth like the megalodon, and he likes the jumpscare where the shark jumps up.
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Kalim Al-Asim
Favorite Country/City: He loves tropical areas, but he loved the Bahamas and the capital of Nassau the most. The resort there was great, and the people were very friendly. It was a laid back time, and it was not even a five minute walk to the beach. Plus, coconuts grow there apparently (correct me if I’m wrong), and coconut juice is his favorite food.
Favorite Cuisine/Dish: A lot of Thai food, specifically the desserts, use the flesh of the coconut, so I think I have substantial evidence to say that he does like Thai food. He would be very hesitant to try Thai curry, though… unless he had somebody to try it with him.
Favorite Drink: Piña Colada, doesn’t matter if it’s virgin or not. He loves the song that accompanies it as well. Anyways, the drink is a very fruit-filled drink. He thinks it’s the right amount of sweetness, so he loves to enjoy it.
Favorite Souvenir: A singular photograph, as he somehow found himself involved in a volunteer program and he took a picture with children from one of the villages he was volunteering at.
Favorite Singers/Songs: He also likes songs that remind him of the beach, and I stated that he probably likes the song Escape (The Piña Colada Song), but it’s not his favorite. His favorite song would be Celebration, by Maffio, Farruko, and Akon (feat. Ky-Mani Marley).
Favorite Movie: I have a feeling that he would love the movie Shrek. It’s funny, a lot of memes have been made from all the movies, all the sequels are great. What’s not to love about the movie(s)?
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Jamil Viper
Favorite Country/City: He gives me a vibe that I resonate with on the historical front, so I would think he would like to visit somewhere in the Middle East, as that is where ancient Mesopotamia was. Specifically, he would love to visit Ur, in Iraq. Not only is it located in a desert (familiar territory), but it’s one of (if not the) first cities in the world.
Favorite Cuisine/Dish: Unlike Kalim, he loves curry, so that gives me reason to believe that he would enjoy Indian cuisine the most. Syrian food comes in second for him (I spend a lot of time at my friend’s Syrian house and they make good food… I’m hungry now).
Favorite Drink: This was difficult, but I feel like he would move towards margaritas, and not just because of the song. Because curry can be spicy, I would say he likes a spicy margarita as well. His favorite non-alcoholic drink would be a mangonada.
Favorite Souvenir: All the books he picked up to learn different languages. He learned along the way as well, and all of the books have annotations within them so he has them for future reference.
Favorite Singers/Songs: He likes breakdancing, so he likes any song he can breakdance to. I am not very involved within this genre of music, so after doing some research I have come to the conclusion that he would love the song The Witch, by the Bamboos.
Favorite Movie: Footloose, as it’s a movie about dancing and rock music being banned. He saw it because it looked interesting, and he learned the Footloose dance. Also, the song Holdin’ Out For a Hero makes him feel like he wants to be someone’s hero.
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Silver
Favorite Country/City: Carrickfergus, as it holds the Carrickfergus Castle. It may be a Norman castle, but it’s because of the history (and the fact that he may be based off of both the Princess and the Prince and thus deserves a castle {personal opinion}) that he enjoys his time in the town.
Favorite Cuisine/Dish: This is the first time I’ve actually dove into investigating Silver’s likes and dislikes, and apparently he likes mushroom risotto, which is thought to originate from the Italian region of Lombardy.
Favorite Drink: He strikes me as the type to like wine, and not the bitter stuff. He likes sweeter wines, especially white wines as they pair nicely with the risotto he loves.
Favorite Souvenir: A journal, in which he writes about his many journeys around the world. 
Favorite Singers/Songs: I think he is a Swiftie. That being said, his favorite song would be Love Story, as he is looking for his Juliet. However, he is not one of those over-excited fans who will tear someone up for saying they don’t like Taylor Swift’s songs. He will just judge them quietly.
Favorite Movie: Gladiator, partially for the plot, partially for Russel Crowe. It reminds him of the training he had to go through as a knight.
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sissylittlefeather · 3 months
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Clean Up Your Own Backyard: A Walter Hale Story
A/N: So, I'm obsessed with The Trouble With Girls. Like, "watch it almost everyday" obsessed 😂. Naturally, Walter Hale needed a fic. I mean, have you seen him?!
Big thanks to @ccab for hounding me about this until I finally finished it. Love youuuuu!
Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (m&f receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie
Word count: ~4.5k
Unfamiliar with Walter? Bless your heart. Here:
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Gilroy, Iowa has been home to you since the day you were born and you've been trying to get out of there for almost just as long. But there was never anywhere to go and having been born in the year 1900, your options were fairly limited. At the tender age of 18, you got married, just for something interesting to do. You had your son a year later and that definitely gave you something to do. Your husband was good to you until he died at the tail end of the Spanish flu epidemic in 1920. Since then, it's been you and Joseph Jr., or Joey, against the world and the thought of leaving faded into the background of your memory.
In the summer of 1927, the Chautauqua rolls through like it does every summer. You work at the hotel as a maid, so you're keenly aware of their presence. This time, something's different, though. There seems to be a new energy among the company and you learn from listening to them chatter that something wild happened in their last town. There was a murder and the manager was actually able to use it to his advantage. You think to yourself that this is a disgusting use of human vulnerability, but it doesn't surprise you. These Chautauqua managers are always a little slimy. Thankfully, as a maid, you never really interact with the more powerful people. In fact, you don't really interact with anyone. To them, you're invisible unless you're in the way, so you're able to go about your daily business without much interruption.
One day, you're busy cleaning in an empty room with the door open. The weather is warm, so you left it open to get a breeze as you work. Without realizing it, you're singing almost at the top of your lungs. You've always been a person who sings while you work and really while you do anything. It's just a bad habit that you have. People have told you that you have a lovely voice, but it never seemed to matter much other than earning you some solos at church here and there.
So when you're singing in the hotel as you clean, you're shocked to turn around and find a man in the doorway.
"Oh sweet berries! You scared me!"
"I'm sorry, honey. I was just listening to you."
"To me?"
"You're quite the little canary, you know that?"
He's unbearably handsome with his suit jacket slung over his shoulder and a cigar hanging from the corner of his mouth.
"I am?"
"Don't act so surprised, toots."
"Well, thank you, I guess." You turn to go back to cleaning, but he doesn't leave. He just stands in the doorway and watches you clean. You look back at him and he smiles, his eyes sparkling.
"I might like to hear you again sometime."
"Well, I clean the hotel almost every day, so I'm sure you will." He laughs and is about to speak again when an older man bustles up to him.
"Walter, we need you. Stop trying to seduce the locals and get back to your job." You look down and blush at the thought that this attractive man might be trying to flirt with you. He goes to leave, but turns to you just before he walks away.
"See you around, honey. I hope." With that he's gone and you go back to cleaning. This time, though, you hum quietly instead of singing out loud.
******
Walter follows Johnny back to his room to discuss whatever this problem is.
"She's gone." Johnny is panting and sweating and Walter can tell he's panicking.
"What do you mean she's gone? Who's gone?"
"Charlene. She disappeared in the night."
"Damn." He looks down at his feet and shakes his head. Maybe he should've tried harder to convince her to stay instead of trying to force her. Still, Walter is not one to mourn the loss of a woman for long. But this does present a pretty big problem for the company. He thinks quickly.
"Put Betty in charge of the story tent. She's been working with Charlie, she knows what to do. I'll find someone to work with her."
"Find someone? Where?" Johnny asks annoyed. Walter thinks about you and your nightingale voice.
"Somewhere. Don't you worry." He heads for the door to go talk to Betty and Johnny follows him closely.
"You've got that look again, Boss. You've got an idea that's going to make trouble." Walter laughs again. In the hallway, he hears you humming and smiles. He does have an idea.
******
After getting Betty set up, Walter stands at the back of the tent and listens to the children audition for the show. Most of them don't have much to offer, so he's just about to leave when a boy of about 8 takes the stage. He requests a gospel song from Betty and begins to sing. Walter turns on his heel quickly. The boy has the prettiest soprano he's ever heard and he's absolutely killing the gospel number. He watches the boy sing his whole song while the wheels turn in his mind. At the end, he walks to the front to catch the boy before he leaves.
"Hey, son, wait a minute." The boy looks up at him in awe.
"Yes, sir?"
"You sing pretty good. And I don't give that compliment lightly."
"Oh, thank you, sir." The boy's blue eyes are wide as plates.
"I don't think we're going to put you in the kids' show. I'd like you to sing some gospel numbers with the quartet. Do you play the piano?" The boy swallows deeply. He can't believe what he's hearing.
"No, sir, I don't. We don't have one at our house. You want me to sing with the quartet?"
"I do. Where's your mama? Is she here?" Walter looks around the tent.
"No, sir, she had to work."
"Alright, then. Will you bring her to me tomorrow or whenever she's available?"
"Yes, sir. She doesn't work tomorrow so I'll bring her here."
"That's good, son, thank you." He ruffles the boy's hair and lets him run off. Then, he heads back to the hotel.
******
You've almost finished for the day when you run into Walter in the hallway. He smiles and his eyes do the sparkly thing again.
"Hi honey. Can I talk to you?"
"To me?"
"Yes. Come here." He takes you into the room you just finished cleaning and sits down on the little couch. He gestures for you to sit next to him, so you do, just far enough away to still be polite but distant.
"You know I'm the manager of the Chautauqua-"
"You're the manager?"
"I am."
"Oh. You're younger than I expected."
"I'm going to take that as a compliment." All of a sudden his sparkly eyes feel like a subtle manipulation and you recoil from him without thinking. He's the man responsible for the murder business in the last town. "I have a problem and I think you could help me."
"Me?"
"Yes. How would you like to get out of Gilroy?" Your heart flip flops, but you know it's not an option.
"What do you mean?"
"I need a woman to help in the children's tent, someone who knows music. How would you like to come with us?" You can't believe what you're hearing. In a lot of ways it's a dream come true, but you know you can't leave Joey.
"Oh, sir-"
"Walter. Walter Hale."
"Mr. Hale-"
"Walter."
"Sir, as flattered as I am, I can't leave Gilroy."
"Why is that?" You hesitate to tell him, but he needs to know you're serious.
"I can't leave my son."
"You have a son?"
"I do. And I can't just leave him here to go with you."
"Bring him along."
"Oh, I could never. The Chautauqua is no place for a child."
"I grew up in the Chautauqua."
"Right, well, I'm not sure I'd like my son to end up..." You trail off when you realize what you're saying, but his lip curls into a smirk. "I'm sorry."
"No, you're not. It's fine. But I sure could use your help."
"I can't. I'm sorry." You stand up from the little couch to go back to work. He watches you walk away, trying to think through his next steps. He'll convince you to come with him; he just needs to figure out the right move.
******
The next day, Walter is walking through the grounds making sure everything is running smoothly. He hears a voice behind him.
"Sir!" He turns to see the young boy from yesterday running towards him. He waits for him to get close and then ruffles his hair again.
"What is it, buddy?"
"I brought my mom. She's in the tent." Walter follows him to the children's tent to meet the boy's mother and try to convince her to let him take the boy under his wing. His mother turns when she hears her son and Walter's mouth drops.
"It's you!" You look at him with your eyebrows knit together.
"It's me. What do you want with my son?" Suddenly he realizes that this might be a real uphill battle for him.
"Well, ma'am, I'd like to have him join the Chautauqua as a sort of protégé for me."
"Protégé? For you?"
"Ma'am, I don't know if you know this, but your son is incredibly talented."
"I'm aware. What does that have to do with you?"
"I'd like to take him under my wing a bit: teach him piano and how to harmonize in a quartet." You scoff and look down at Joey. He's your pride and joy, the only thing you have left of your husband, and you're not going to let him go easily.
"Absolutely not. My son will go to college someday. He's not a performer."
"Oh, but he is. I've seen him." You look down at Joey, seemingly trying to decide whether you should take this risk or lock him inside forever. You look back up at Walter.
"Is this just because you need a new story lady?" He raises his eyebrows.
"What? No!"
"You want to pretend like you're taking an interest in my son so I'll come with you, is that it?"
"Ma'am. I took an interest in him before I knew he was your son." Now the boy chimes in. He's excited for this opportunity.
"It's true, mama. He talked to me yesterday after I auditioned." You look back and forth between them and try to imagine what it would be like for your son to grow up and become Walter.
"No. Absolutely not. Come on, Joey." You turn on your heel and push your son in front of you.
"But mama-"
"Ma'am-" You turn back to Walter.
"Thank you for putting these crazy ideas in his head without talking to me first." Then, you grab Joey's hand and walk away quickly. Walter watches you and shakes his head. There are several reasons he'd like you to join the company. The way you look walking away from him is not the least of them.
******
You have to go to work at the hotel every day, so you don't know that Joey is making his way to the Chautauqua grounds after you leave and getting home just before you do. Walter has him scheduled to perform with the quartet on the Friday night two weeks after your first encounter with him. Sometimes you see him in the hallways of the hotel and he nods politely, but doesn't press you any further about Joey performing.
You don't suspect anything until you hear Betty talking to one of the other women in the show as you clean the room across the hall.
"That new boy is very talented. I can't believe we found him in a little town like this. It's too bad his mother won't let him join us long-term. He'd be a great addition to the show." The other girl nods in agreement. "Mr. Hale assures me that he'll be able to convince the mother once he performs. I sure hope he's right."
Your blood boils as you listen to the conversation. He'll be able to convince you, will he? His arrogance is only outweighed by his sliminess. You drop the sheets you were changing and stomp through the hotel looking for him.
He's nowhere to be found. Finally, you go back to Betty and decide to ask. They're not used to the staff approaching them, but Betty used to work in a hotel too, so her shock fades quickly.
"Where is Mr. Hale?"
"Oh, I believe he's in the main performance tent preparing for tonight."
"Just what is the performance tonight?"
"It's that boy with the gospel group. He's so good! You should listen, if you're able to."
"I'll find a way. He's my son." Betty's mouth pops open and you turn and walk away.
******
At the performance tent, you stand in the back and watch as your son practices with the quartet. Walter is there too, playing the piano. You try desperately not to notice how attractive he is with his hands on the keys. You swallow deeply, shake your head, and go back to watching your son. When he sings with the quartet, your mouth drops.
He's incredible.
You knew he was talented, but always in a raw, unrefined kind of way. But now? Now he sounds like a little polished songbird, hitting notes and making runs like nothing you've ever heard before. He hears the harmony instinctively and sings it with grace, blending perfectly with the lower voices. His vibrato is beautiful and you wonder how he learned all of this in two weeks. That's when Walter stops them, stands up from the piano and kneels down in front of Joey. You can't hear what he's saying to him, but Joey is spellbound listening. He nods cooperatively. Then, they sing together.
You inhale sharply when you hear Walter's voice. It sounds like an older, deeper, baritone version of your son's soprano. He's giving instruction as he sings and Joey blends his sound with Walter's perfectly. They sound like they were made to sing together and you absolutely melt. The sincerity on Walter's face as he coaches your son would be impossible to fake. He meant it when he said he wanted to mentor Joey. Tears gather in your eyes and you begin to imagine the possibilities for his future.
You back slowly out of the tent to go home and change. You decide not to interfere with the performance tonight.
******
On stage, Joey is perfect and he absolutely shines. He is a performer. He sings his three songs and then sits down in the front row of the tent as the show continues.
But it's Walter that you can't keep your eyes off of. Every move he makes elicits a physical response from you.
At one point, he looks out to the crowd and catches you biting your bottom lip. He has to work not to laugh when you gasp and blush. Naturally, he spends the rest of the evening teasing you with looks and winks and subtle movements. By the end of the show, you're both so hot and bothered that you almost can't stand it.
As the show concludes and everyone makes their way out of the tent, you stand still, eyes glued to Walter as he talks to people. He knows you're watching him, so the smile he can't suppress is real. He stands with Joey as people compliment them both and they look so fitting there together that you almost would think they were father and son. That damn near kills you too. Finally, Joey sees you and comes bounding towards you to celebrate his success. You give him the biggest hug and tell him all your favorite parts of the show as Walter excuses himself from his conversation and saunters over. He ruffles Joey's hair and leaves his hand on his shoulder.
"Your boy is a hit, ma'am."
"I noticed. Thank you for working with him."
"I wonder if you have some time tonight to negotiate more about whether we make him a permanent member of the Chautauqua."
"I think I can manage that. Can he-" Walter turns and calls to Betty. She walks over cautiously.
"Betty will take him over to the children's tent for the evening, so we can talk privately." He gestures to Betty and she reluctantly takes Joey and walks out of the tent. That leaves just the two of you alone.
"Come over to my office." He puts his hand on the small of your back and guides you to the stage. He sits down on the piano bench and pats the spot beside him for you to sit down too. You do and automatically put your hands on the keys. You haven't played a piano in years.
"Do you play?"
"Mhmm. A little. But not in a long time." You nervously begin the top part of a duet piece that you used to play as a child. He begins the bottom part and you're surprised at how well you play together. You relax a little as you continue and the song comes back from your memory. He watches you as he plays, an almost strange look on his face.
Eventually, you look up at him too, but you're not as practiced, so you fumble the keys when you do.
"Oh, whoops, I-"
But before you can apologize for mixing up the melody, his lips are on yours. Without another thought, you turn your body to face his and the kiss escalates to a fever pitch, your tongues moving wildly as your hands begin to roam. He puts one hand on your hip and the other on your neck and pulls you in close to him while your arms go around his neck. All of the tension from the evening of flirtation comes pouring out of both of you into the kiss.
He turns and lifts you until your bottom is on the keys and he's in between your legs, still pulling you in to kiss him deeply. Then he stands up, lifting you again to place you on top of the grand piano. You notice his erection as he stands there and he gives you a look almost asking for permission to do more than kiss you. You nod and he pushes your dress up over your hips and pulls your bloomers down and off. You've never been with a man that wasn't your husband, so you blush a little at the speed with which he undresses you. He notices the change in your demeanor and looks into your eyes.
"Do you want me to stop?" You swallow and take a deep breath. He looks down at himself and back up at you. "I can-"
"No. Don't stop."
"You're sure, honey?" You grab the front of his jacket and pull him into a passionate kiss. Then, you push his jacket off of his shoulders and kiss his neck. You whisper as you do.
"Don't stop." He grunts and unbuttons his vest as you pull his tie off, your hands trembling with desire. He goes back to kissing you and puts both hands on your ass to pull you in as close to him as you can get from your position on top of the piano. You begin to unbutton his shirt and eventually get it off of him and onto the floor with the rest of his clothes. He uses both hands to lift your dress up over your head and remove your bra. A soft moan escapes his lips as he looks down at your body, naked and sitting on top of the piano. He kisses down your chest, caressing your breast with one hand and licking a slow circle around your other nipple. You whimper as he keeps moving down your body with his mouth, sitting on the piano bench and spreading your thighs to get to your center. He leans forward, putting both hands on your ass, and drags his tongue up your slit to the bundle of nerves at the top. It's been so long since you've had a man touch you like that that it almost takes your breath away. You lean back and he goes to work licking your clit.
"Oh! Walter!" You moan as he moves his tongue on you in circles. He licks you fervently and you feel the coil of your orgasm begin to tighten between your legs. The pleasure of what he's doing with his mouth is exquisite and you cry out again. He pulls back a little and looks up at you from his position between your thighs.
"Honey, I don't wanna stifle you, but we are in a tent." All of a sudden you become very aware of the fact that there are no doors or walls separating you from the rest of the camp. It should scare you, but it has the opposite effect. He notices the way you arch your back and smiles. "Good girl."
He leans into you again and goes back to licking you, sliding his tongue over and around and across your clit. You're right on the edge of your orgasm and he knows it. He sucks on you lightly, backs up and blows on you, and then dives in and licks harder than he has so far and you tumble over the edge, coming harder than you ever have before, the blood rushing from your core out to your fingertips in electric bolts.
"Oh God, Walter." You groan through gritted teeth as you ride the high of your orgasm and he devours you like his life depends on it. When you finally come back down to earth, you push him backwards and slide forward off of the piano into his lap. You kiss him again deeply, tasting your own sweetness on him, and grind against his hardened cock.
"You're gonna make a mess of my pants, honey." He whispers in your ear as you nibble on his earlobe.
"Do you care?"
"No. I really don't."
"That's what I thought." You grind against him again and he whimpers. Then, you back off of him and stand up between him and the piano. He stands up too, pushing the piano bench back away from him. Your hands go to his pants button and you smirk at the wet spot on the front of them. He helps you undo them and then slides them down, kicking his shoes off, as his cock bounces free. You shouldn't be surprised at how beautiful it is, but you are. It's long and straight and you don't hesitate to drop to your knees in front of it, fully intending to worship it with your mouth. He groans and puts his hand on the top of the piano to steady himself as you push his foreskin back and lick a slow circle around the head. You drag your tongue up the bottom of his shaft and then take him fully into your mouth, opening your throat until he hits the back of it.
"Shit, y/n." He moans while you begin to bounce on him. You move your hands around to his ass to hold him still while you slide your mouth up and down. You push him as deep as he'll go again and bury your nose in the soft patch of hair at the base of him. He makes some kind of guttural grunt and then grabs your hair, pulling gently to get you to back off of him. As you stand back up, he turns you around to face the piano and kisses your shoulder.
"I'm sorry, honey, I wasn't ready to finish yet." He lines himself up with you from behind and teases your entrance with his tip. "Is this what you want?"
"Yes, Walter, oh!" He pushes into you from behind, filling you slowly. You feel every inch of him as your pussy stretches to accommodate his size. He begins to move in and out of you, picking up a steady rhythm.
"Good girl. You like this?" He asks as he pounds you from behind, holding your hips with both hands while you grasp at the top of the piano.
"God, yes, don't stop!"
"You like it when I fuck you hard like this?"
"Yes, fuck, Walter!" You hit the keys as he slams into you and it makes a kind of atonal music to go along with the sound of your skin slapping together rhythmically. Everyone outside the tent knows exactly what's going on inside and you don't even care. With his cock buried so deep inside you, the only thing you can think about is how close you are to coming again.
He pulls out of you without warning and flips you around to face him, pushing back into you quickly.
"Join the Chautauqua. Come with me. Stay with me." He says it between kisses as he fucks you much more gently now.
"Is that what this is all about?"
"No. I just can't let you go after this." You look into his eyes and he looks into yours. You can tell he's on the brink of his climax, just like you are. His hair drips with sweat and he might be the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.
"Yes. Okay. I'll come... with... you." As you say it he groans loudly and fills you with warmth and you fall head first into a full body wave of pleasure. He pumps a couple more times weakly while you shudder and tremble with ecstasy. You both breathe heavily as he presses his forehead to yours.
"Did you mean that?"
"Yes. I did." He slides out and falls backwards onto the piano bench, pulling you down into his lap. He kisses you again deeply and then rests his head on your shoulder with his arms around your waist.
"Welcome to the Chautauqua."
"Are you my boss now?"
"Honey, I'll be anything you want me to be, as long as you don't leave me."
"Leave you or the company?"
"Both. But mainly me." He kisses your shoulder and gives you a sly look. You're still not sure if this was about you or the Chautauqua, but you're willing to join him on the road and find out. This is your chance to get out of this town and see what the world has to offer. He's just icing on the cake. Delicious, sweet, and probably bad for you, but definitely worth it in the end. If anyone has anything to say about it, well, they can clean up their own backyard.
******
The End
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Taglist:
@ccab @elvisfatass @rjmartin11 @aliypop @your-nanas-house @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @lookingforrainbows @joshuntildawn13 @tacozebra051 @dkayfixates @deniseinmn @18lkpeters @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @pebbles403 @from-memphis-with-love @elvisalltheway101 @deltafalax
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Golf Hotel in Hyères, Côte d'Azur region of southern France
French vintage postcard, mailed in 1927
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