#jumbo lobby card

[weirdlookindog]

Dante's Inferno (1935)

[fuckyeahmeikokaji]

Meiko Kaji (梶芽衣子) and Akiko Wada (和田 アキ子) in Stray Cat Rock: Wild Jumbo (野良猫ロック ワイルドジャンボ), 1970, directed by Toshiya Fujita (藤田敏八).

[bakugoooooooo]

Promise Me

Pairing: Izuku x fem!y/n

Summary: y/n gets injured during a mission and Izuku feels bad. Angst and fluff at the end.

Warnings ⚠️: (1) explosion, not much but reader is in the hospital for most of it

P. S. I don't know very much medically, so sorry if this isn't 100% accurate.

Enjoy! 😁

"It wasn't supposed to happen like this. It should have been me. Not you."

Midoriya leaned over your hospital bed, elbows on the bed and your hand in his. He stayed in the same spot since you had come back from surgery. You both were chosen to go on a mission with Gran Torino. It was supposed to be a quick grab at a villain that was causing trouble. What they hadn't expected was that said villain to have friends that attacked the pros.

Midoriya had to split up from you. "Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself," you said with a confident smile. After the villains had been apprehended a final blast came from the side of a building and debris struck you. That's when Midoriya found, clutching your side. The paramedics came as soon as they could, but you passed out in the ambulance.

"Hey, bunny. It's me." Midoriya said, stroking your hair with a feather, light touch. "Our classmates came earlier. They would really like it if you woke up. I- I would really like it if you woke up." Midoriya, your Izuku, started sobbing.

I wasn't there. I couldn't protect her. It should be me. These words were running through his head. The one time he wasn't in a hospital bed, you took the hit.

"Please, please, please, wake up. I- I need you to wake up." Izuku started crying with his lips pressed to your hand. He stayed that way for what felt like hours, until, very slowly, your hands started to twitch. It took your hand twitching three times until he finally looked up to see your eyes open, then close; trying to adjust to the bright lights in your room.

"Y/n. Y/N!" Izuku leaped out of his seat to hover over your face.

"Izu, not so loud, please."

"Sorry! Ah- how are you feeling?"

"Like I got his by a truck." You tried sitting up, but immediately held your side as pain shot through your body.

"Try not to move so much. You were hit by debris when an explosion went off from inside the building. You were mainly punctured on your side, but it also hit your legs as well." His thumb started rubbing circles on your hand. He started sensing that you were getting anxious from taking in all this new information and this small action always made you feel comforted and safe.

"How long until I'm better?" You looked at your green haired boyfriend, your eyes starting to tear up from the pain you felt all at once.

"The doctors say about two weeks. You're gonna have to go to physical therapy for about a week until you regain feeling in your legs again." His eyes once again started to water as he looked down at your hand.

It's because of me that you have to go to physical therapy. It's because of me that you won't be able to go to school for two weeks. It's because of me that-

"Hey, look at me." You pulled your hand out of his hold to move his face to look at you. "This is not your fault." You still held that same smile as before, and the way you talked left no room for Izuku to refute your claim, though he tried.

"But if I met up with you sooner then maybe-"

"Then maybe you would be in the bed next to me. What happened, happened, and there's no point in wondering 'what ifs'. Just promise me that you'll stand next to me through this all, and I'll be okay. We will be okay."

Even in a hospital bed, you still knew what to say to make him feel better. "I promise." He said, leaning over you to seal his promise with a kiss on your lips.

For two weeks he visited you everyday after school, bringing you homework and telling you about your day. He helped you when he could by getting you food, or going for a short walk around the lobby after you started your physical therapy. The class even made you a jumbo 'Get Well Soon Card' and got everyone to sign it, even some of the teachers.

After you were deemed healthy and discharged from the hospital, Izuku was there with your parents to take you back to the dorms. He's usually shy about pda, but after you came back he made sure to at least be holding your hand as much as he could. He even started giving you extra cuddles when you were in your dorm, in his dorm, even on the couch in the lounge area. He also offered to train with you more to increase both of your reaction times.

You were both cuddling him his dorm one night when he looked down at your face, admiring your beauty. After a while his gave you a kiss on the crown of your head, causing you to look up at him.

"What was that for?" you asked with a smile.

"Nothing. I just want you to know that I'm here for you, and I'll always be here for you." And that was a promise that he would forever keep.

[someguynamedstevewrites]

Unwanted House Guest: Valentine’s Run - Part 1

Based on characters created by @tamarinfrog (a.k.a. @searching-for-bananaflies , a.k.a. @cafe-cardamari , a.k.a. @bottledupcomic , a.k.a. OH MY GOD Tammy, just how many more blogs do you have!? I mean, I’m not one to talk, but...)

And the video games Splatoon, Splatoon 2, and Splatoon 2: Octo Expansion by Nintendo.

——————————

A brief primer on Unwanted House Guest:

Began this Fanfiction series back in the Fall of 2015.

Multiple entries in the series were submitted to Tammy’s blogs for posting.

Feel free to search Tammy’s blogs for “Unwanted House Guest” for previous entries in the series.

Now on with the story!

——————————

“YOU WANT HOW MUCH!?”

Arnick shouted from nearly the top of his lungs. Every Inkling and Octoling in Inkopolis Square turned to look at the small bench near the lobby entrance for Turf Wars. There, everyone saw a tall, lanky, Inkling male with purple tentacles wearing a replica hero jacket and with a Legendary Cap on his head. It was an older cap with some sewn on patches and a hole to let the Inkling’s tentacles out through the top of the hat. Upon recognizing who it was, about a third of the people turned back to minding their own business because they were rather accustomed to the ear-splitting din that Arnick Stilton was known for.

“You heard me, chum,” Murch shot back, “100,000 G! Take it or leave it.”

Arnick was gritting his teeth, clenching his fists, and looking like his hat was going to pop off his head. The 21-year old Inkling had been searching for months for a very particular item. He regularly browsed through Annie’s Online Shop, checked every retail store daily since Squiddoween, and constantly asked about it from the local (shady) “gear specialist”: Murch. After going for so long without any luck, Arnick even went so far as to try and craft it himself, but couldn’t get the ability chunks necessary to finish it.

Now it was being held ransom by a puny little one-eyed street urchin.

“You have any idea how hard it was to find this thing, chum?” Murch continued with a small hint of indignity, “Spyke had to ask somebody who knew somebody who knew somebody whose cousin’s sister-in-law’s brother’s uncle happened to have one tucked away in a box at a garage sale out in Calamari County!”

“Yeah, right...” Arnick said in about a 50/50 split between disbelief and sarcasm. He grabbed his iSquid and opened up the app for his bank account. His winnings had increased since Team Toxic’s recent entrance into the highest level of professional Turf War. This was a great honor as they were now being matched up against the most experienced players; some of who had been engaging in Turf Wars for decades. But Arnick still had rent, utility bills, credit card payments, grocery expenses, and other debts that needed paying.

Doing a quick check of his bank balance, Arnick saw that he had exactly 567,902 G in the bank, but by Arnick’s calculations, only 50,000 G of that would be considered “available”. Sure, Arnick had the 100,000 G in his bank account, but if he spent it now, one or more of the payments Arnick had scheduled to go through could bounce. This would lead to a Non-Sufficient Fund (NSF) fee from the bank, and a whole new level of headache that Arnick did not want to deal with. (Especially since Tetrox gave him enough of a headache anyway. Arnick couldn’t count the number of times she’d swiped his credit cards to buy ridiculous things online).

“Hey,” Murch called up to the tall, penny-pinching grouch, “you want this or not?”

“Yes of course I want it, you pipsqueak!” Arnick said with frustration in his voice (which was nothing new), “Is there any way I can pick it up tomorrow?”

“No can do, chum,” Murch said with a shake of his head, “I’m a busy guy here and gear like this is hot stuff! If you don’t buy this, I’m going to have to trash it.”

“WHAT!? You said it yourself this thing was difficult to get, and you’re going to throw it away just like that!?” questioned Arnick.

“Look, chum, I only got so much inventory space here,” Murch said gesturing to his case sitting on the bench behind him, “I can hold this for you up until midnight tonight, but after that, this gear is gone.”

Murch then raised his solitary eyebrow as he took a peak at the precious gear in the case. “Still,” he said, “why would an uptight guy like you want this bo-“

“SSHHHHHHHHHUSH!”

Arnick hissed, almost shoving his hand over Murch’s mouth to keep him quiet. He then looked around him, cautiously, to see if anyone had seen or heard anything. Everyone in the Square was either staring at or side-eyeing Arnick, but mostly because his outbursts were giving them a scare. No matter how many times Arnick blew his top, the folks that inhabited Inkopolis Square would still jump from his outbursts. (Many of them were getting rather tired of it.)

“What was that for, chum!?” Asked an annoyed Murch.

“I don’t want anyone finding out I’m getting this, you dimwit!” Arnick pleaded.

“Why wouldn’t you-“ Murch’s single eye popped wide open as it hit him. He then slowly turned towards Arnick with a big, smug smile on his face. His eye now had a look to it as if it was saying “I see what you did there”. Arnick had seen that look before and dreaded what was coming.

“Ohhhhhh,” Murch said with a sneaky smile, “this is a gift for someone, isn’t it?”

“Your point?” Arnick snapped back, feeling rather annoyed.

“You sly sea dog!” Murch said while giving a small elbow jab to Arnick’s leg, “Don’t you worry about a thing! Your secret’s safe with me.” His gesture was meant to be a knowing jab to the ribs, but given Murch’s height, Arnick’s leg was the best he could reach.

Arnick looked left, then right, then left again. By now, the eyes of the square were no longer on him and Murch. Arnick guessed that everyone was likely thinking: “OH MY COD! WHAT WA- Oh it’s just Arnick! False Alarm!” before going back to whatever it was they were doing. (He was right too.) In a quiet voice, Arnick responded with, “It had better be safe, or so help me, if this gets out...”

“Relax, chum!” Murch said with a smile, “all I need is that 100,000 G and you won’t hear a peep out of me!”

Arnick growled to himself. He absolutely hated the idea of having an overdraft fee affecting his credit score. But at the same time, he had been searching for this gear for so long that he just couldn’t let it slip through his fingers. His mind raced through possible solutions when suddenly the hour changed and the new Turf War maps were announced by Inkopolis’ latest shining stars: Off the Hook. The volume on the large Jumbo-Tron size TV in the square cranked itself up for the news segment.

“Y’all check this out!” the energetic Pygmy Inkling named Pearl called out over the airwaves, “Our sponsor Grizzco is now hiring for Salmon Runs!” She then looked over to her co-host, the Octoling named Marina, who was looking into the camera with a big smile.

“Big Money? Big Prizes? I love it!” The cheerful Octoling expertly said after reading it from the teleprompter. Arnick was certain this was an obscure reference to something. He also wagered that line was written by his old nemesis: “that guy named Steve”. Arnick recalled Steve saying something about how he was taking on some additional work responsibilities at the Turf War League the two of them bickered (and it was always bickering). Arnick didn’t have the foggiest idea what the reference was to, but he didn’t care...

...he just got a brilliant idea.

Turning to Murch, Arnick smiled unusually wide. “100,000 G by midnight!? No problem!” Arnick said confidently, “Hang on to it and I’ll be back with your money in no time.”

“Alright,” Murch nodded, “But remember, when I say midnight, I mean Midnight! If you ain’t here by 12:00 on the dot, then this...” Murch hesitated when Arnick gave him the stink eye (while still smiling, no less) to remind him to keep this under wraps, “...gear goes bye-bye.”

Arnick gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up and a toothy grin that almost sparkled. “Smoke me a kipper, I’ll be back for breakfast!” Arnick said assuredly before spinning around and marching towards the Salmon Run Office.

Murch called out, “YOU DO KNOW IT WILL BE TOO LATE BY THEN, RIGHT!?”

Arnick turned around and hollered back, “IT’S A FIGURE OF SPEECH!”

To Be Continued...

[pollylynn]

Just About, Chapter 7—Just About Glad: Linked Season 1 Caskett Drabbles (Complete)

Title: Just about, Chapter 7—Just About Glad WC: 1700

A/N: Another random number of words, but I think this is done now. This is more or less where, lo those many years ago, I saw this as winding up. 

He’s surprised when she says yes to poker night—and without even too much hounding from him. He’d really worked on ratcheting back the hounding, because she’d come entirely of her own volition the last time. And because the last time had ended on a kind of weird note, courtesy of his mother, Mistress of the Unwelcome Weird Note. 

He’s surprised again when she actually shows up, promptly and bearing a bottle of wine, though he’d told  her not to bring anything. He’s surprised at the easy way she lets him take her coat and greets his mother.  

He had, in fact, had the distinct impression that his mother had made her downright skittish by shining a light on the fact that Kate Beckett, Chez Castle, had become a not entirely irregular thing. He’d found himself on the receiving end of some sharper than strictly necessary barbs and a few more exasperated than warranted answers to perfectly reasonable questions, as though she’d been trying to reset the annoyance clock all the way back to Day 1. 

But she’s here now, of her own free will. Unless the Captain ordered her here or something. That’s . . . an awkward possibility, and not solely because he’s suddenly paranoid when it comes to interfering parental figures. It’s possible—it’s just possible—that he overdid it with the hard sell when he’d invited the four of them over for a game. 

He’d made a point of asking them as group, rather than singling her out. He’d leaned hard into the amenities of a friendly game at his place could offer, and in a desperate, covering-all-the-bases moment, he’d noted that it would be a good research opportunity to see them all with their ties loosened and their sleeves rolled up. It’s possible—it’s just possible—that the Captain might have taken that as a request from a friend of the mayor, not just a request from a friend, if that’s what they are.

That’s what he thinks they are. Him and her. Him and all of them, up to and including the Captain. They’re friends, or at least well on their way to being that. He thinks so, but now he’s totally muffing a round of betting, because he’s too busy studying her for signs that they’re not friends at all—that she’s here under duress—to pay attention to his cards. 

They’re lousy, it turns out. They’re just awful, and he ends up having to bluff his way through to the end, all the while wondering if means anything that she’s the only one without a drink at her elbow, if she’s been counting the hands or surreptitiously looking at her watch, trying to find a time when she can reasonably leave. 

But for all his divided-attention theater, he pulls it off. He takes Esposito for most of what he has left. They all crow over the good detective’s pouty face, and she crows right along. She’s relaxed and into the evening, he decides. She came because she wanted to come, and she’s stayed because she’s having a good time, and he’s glad about that. 

The night proceeds and he’s glad. He feels like they’ve recalibrated, like things had gone a little off the rails after the first time she’d come here—after she’d told him about her mother and he’d spent some quality time under a bare, swinging bulb discovering in grisly crime scene photos that she looks like her mother to a heart-stopping degree. And then he’d lured her here and her presence had thrown into sharp relief the glaring fact that falling into old habits with Meredith was a mistake he no longer wanted to keep making. 

And then his mother . . . 

Well, the less said about that, the better. She’s here and they’re friends, or they’re at least on their way to being friends, and Oh shit, he seems to have just thrown what turns out to be the last hand of the night. 

And that’s not exactly something he does for his friends. 

*************************

His mother outs him. He wonders if it’s some kind of bid for assisted suicide. He also wonders where the volcano nearest Manhattan might be and if its resident gods accept definitely non-virgin sacrifices. But mostly he wonders if he is going to survive an elevator ride with a Kate Beckett who is riled up enough to get right up in his personal space, because there are several different ways that might kill him. 

He does survive though. He does more than survive. He gets her to accept to yet another invitation to his home. They lock horns in full view of all the string-pullers and power-brokers orbiting around the two of them, and what’s happening with them—between them—has nothing to do with that. 

He doesn’t know what’s happening between them—and then she throws the last hand of the night and he super extra doesn’t know what’s happening—but it doesn’t have anything to do with whose friend he is or who she works for. It doesn’t have anything to do with his mother’s meddling or even his own casting about blindly, figuring out what he definitely does not want out of life at this juncture. 

It’s strange, whatever it is. It’s sharp edged and awkward. It’s challenging and humbling and damned uncomfortable a whole lot of the time. But it’s also exhilarating and it makes him laugh and want to work harder than he ever has in his life. It’s fun a lot of the time. And it’s between them. It’s just between them. 

That’s the conclusion, such as it is, that he comes to during the last of the poker games they play for the time being. It’s not at his place this time. It’s at hers, he supposes, but also at theirs, and that pleases him. She slaps down the jumbo-sized bag of Gummi Bears, and he slaps down the rubber-banded deck on the corner of her desk that they share, and it pleases him 

The late-night atmosphere of the bullpen hums along in the background. Phones ring and voices float out from the break room as the two of them battle back and forth and the elevator occasionally dings. It’s not long before things get ridiculous. Anything so pedestrian as Texas Hold ‘Em or Five-Card Draw falls by the wayside. They’re eating their banks and one-upping each other with the ridiculous Dealer’s Choice rules they each call in turn. 

“It’s late,” she says at last. It’s at once too soon and far later than he thought it would be. He’s also pretty sure that it has more to do with the fact that they’ve eaten the last of the green Gummi Bears than her actually having any burning desire to break up the evening. “Should probably call it a night.” 

“Probably,” he agrees, even though he doesn’t agree at all. He has various, wild, sugar-addled, sleep-deprived points of disagreement, but he rises when she does. He stands by with his hands firmly shoved in his pockets, waiting, as she wrestles her clumsy, tired way into her coat and heaves her bag on to her shoulder. He doesn’t do anything so ridiculous—so very nearly suicidal—as try to hold her coat for her, much as he’d like to. He doesn’t offer her his arm.

He simply waits, happy that she seems to take it as a given that they’ll ride the elevator down together, they’ll head out on to the street together, they’ll spend a few more pleasant moments of a thoroughly pleasant evening—together. 

He feels close to her. It’s such a simple statement of fact, and yet he finds himself sincerely, strangely moved by the phrase as the elevator car glides downward and the reality hits him—he feels genuinely close to her and that’s . . . for him, it’s a rare thing. 

He studies her. She’s tired to the point of nodding off a little bit in the corner where she’s propped herself. He remembers not knowing what to make of her at first—not knowing what to make of everything he was feeling about her. He still doesn’t know. He has no idea what will become of them, and that seems suddenly wonderful. 

He turns to tell her so, to say something ridiculous that will be as much a surprise to him as it will be to her. He turns, but the doors ding open just then. He follows her through the lobby and the revolving door. He faces her for what’s poised to be a perfectly cordial, if somewhat perfunctory goodnight between friends—between people who are on their way to being friends, at least. 

That’s fine. It should be completely fine, but he can’t let the moment go. He’s compelled not to let it go. 

“You know, I’m glad you turned me down after that first case,” he says quickly enough that her mouth is still opening to say Night, Castle. It’s still opening, then it’s closing with a snap as he rushes on. “I’m glad there was no . . . debriefing.” 

Her eyes narrow and he knows—he just knows—she’s going to tell him there was never any possibility of that. He knows that’s what she’s going to say, just as surely as he knows it’s not true. There was a possibility. There is a possibility. There will be a possibility until the moment that it’s more than that, so he goes on, confident now. 

“It would’ve—“ he has an ill-timed pang of longing that he has to power through. “It would have been great. But then maybe we wouldn’t have had this.” He gestures between them, tasting Gummi Bears on his tongue. “And this is really great. So I’m glad.” 

“Glad,” she echoes. She sounds utterly baffled. “Great. Okay?” She shakes her head as if to clear it and comes up looking utterly baffled. “Night, Castle.” 

She turns to go, casting one puzzled look over her shoulder. 

“Until tomorrow, Detective,” he calls after her. He stands a minute, watching her recede. He is glad, he tells himself. He’s just about glad.  A/N:  Just about glad we didn’t have that fling, or so says Declan McManus, International Art Thief

[lobbycards]

Betrayed, German jumbo lobby card. West German theatrical release 1980

[weirdlookindog]

Count Yorga, Vampire (1970) - German lobby cards

[fuckyeahmeikokaji]

Meiko Kaji (梶芽衣子), Tatsuya Fuji (藤 竜也) and some poor, unsuspecting tourists in Stray Cat Rock: Wild Jumbo (野良猫ロック ワイルドジャンボ), 1970, directed by Toshiya Fujita (藤田敏八).

meikokaji.net

[citizenscreen]

#FlashbackFriday to Claudette Colbert on a Paramount Jumbo Lobby Card, early 1930s https://www.instagram.com/p/BysEWZVnqed/?igshid=vigf95t4ilak

[dakotahiggins-blog1]

Lucky for me, I love stargazing, hiking and music. Off to Joshua Tree I went to continue my California road trip from Yosemite National Park 

If Yosemite is for the ‘ain’t no mountain high enough’ intrepid thrill seekers, then Joshua Tree is for the ‘ain’t no desert hot enough’ hipsters of heart. The sunny, friendly vibes this place gives off make me want to return for a lazy weekend spent reading tarot cards and living amongst the J Trees (which aren’t even trees at all but part of the agave family). Only 2 /2 hours from LA, it’s the perfect respite from traffic…city life…but yeah, mostly traffic.

Inside Joshua Tree National Park

Let me be frank. I went inside the gates to the national park a few times, and it was one time too many. The purpose of these parks around the country is land conservation and preservation of natural beauty. This one in particular is just over the size of Rhode Island – so lots to explore (requiring lots of fuel in your tank!). I had just ventured south from Yosemite where I climbed mountains and saw meadows and lakes and canyons and wilderness and ah. Diversity, ya know? The actual National Park is a sight to see – maaybe like once every trip here. Lots of Joshua Trees and some boulders. End of list.

Don’t get me wrong – I absolutely ADORE J Tree and can’t wait to return. Just know it’s not very varied landscape…but you can definitely fill an afternoon with photo opps. Upon my return, I’m going to take a rock climbing course and perform amongst the vertical playground

Other options inside the park: Hidden Valley one-mile hike trail, Keys View 360 degree lookout, Skull Rock and Cholla Cactus Garden.

Experience

Pioneertown – I totally thought this was a fake town until I drove in and realized it wasn’t actually a TV set. This is A REAL TOWN with a police station, a church, a restaurant, a bar and a post office, from which I actually mailed a wedding present! It’s worth the 0 minute walk-around as well as the lunch at Pappy and Harriet’s – so so delish.

Sound Bath Integratron – It is with a heavy heart that I cannot tell you about the Integratron (based off of experience) as it was booked solid upon my Joshua Tree dates. I wanted to mention it in case there’s an open date for you AND THEN YOU MUST MESSAGE ME AND TELL ME EVERYTHING. Basically, it’s a very quirky Joshua Tree thing and billed as “60 minutes of sonic healing.” I think you pretty much post up in a lawn chair situated inside a dome structure and bathe in sounds for an hour. The history of this place is far out, man.

Stargaze – Don’t forget to look up! The night sky in J Tree is jam packed with stars – perfect for a cozied up romantic evening or epic photog session.

Eat

Frontier Cafe – I could easily see myself working all day here among good drinks, coffee, beer, breakfast and lunch. Homemade granola bars and Joshua Tree coffee. NOM.

Natural Sisters Cafe – MmmmmASSIVE salads and wraps and vegetarian goodness

Pappy & Harriet’s – My mouth is watering thinking of the pork sandwich from here. Loved the vibe, loved the staff, loved the food. Solid place all around.

Gadi’s Bar – Eateries tend to close by around 9pm in Joshua Tree so if you’re like me and explore until way past dark, go here for pizza and really good playlists.

Shop

The End Vintage Shop

Route 62 Vintage Marketplace

Sleep

Lazy Sky – What a freaking gem this place is. I’m a fan of glamping, especially when it’s in a landscape like THIS with interiors like THESE. And yeah, the bathroom is lovely and only a few yards away alongside a kitchen and grill. The dream.

Pioneertown Motel – Situated in Pioneertown, this little motel is popular. As I was photographing the “lobby,” I heard the receptionist say they were booked for at least a few months out. A good problem to have.

Airstreams aplenty – I’m not sure where the airstream got its start again, but the silver bullet boom is upon us. Places like Joshua Tree Acres and the like have become a big lodging option here and for good reason. They’re so…instagrammable. Brb while I shoot myself for saying that.

Camping in Joshua Tree National Park

They say you never forget your first…and my first ever camping experience was right here in Joshua Tree National Park Even with a wind advisory and a group of drunk men next door, I’ll say that trip was a success. I’d give it a strong 7/0. We camped at Jumbo Rocks Campground where reservations are required ($5/site, $30/car) during the busy season from October – May. There’s zero cell reception, and definitely bring your own water + layers for cold nights. I’m a human that gets v cold v easily. Thank GOD for Alex and his body heat and his extra hoodies and his knowledge of pitching a tent. My camping expertise is obviously non-existent. I’m getting there.

The stars are UNREAL and worth the loss of sleep due noisy, alcohol-infused neighbors. I hope they enjoyed our music the following morning! I mean there’s gotta be such thing as Camping Etiquette, right? It probably doesn’t list being drunken fools until 3am OR blaring your music the next morning as you drive off…but what do I know? What I know for sure is that I’m finding an isolated spot next time!

If you’ve camped in J. Tree, sound off on your favorite campsite + other faves inside the U.S.!

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The post A Quick Guide to Joshua Tree National Park appeared first on The Road Les Traveled.

[illustraction]

STAR WARS Jumbo stills posters (1977-1983) - STAR WARS: A VISUAL CELEBRATION (part 4/10)

There are so many STAR WARS posters and formats to collect and purchase. 20th Century Fox’ Marketing department experienced many ways to advertise the first movie in 1977 creating lavish deluxe packages to select theaters including a 23 posters set including oversize stills, lobby cards and a large lobby portrait poster only limited to 400 copies.

This was renewed for the second and third movies albeit in larger quantities

Here are all the oversized posters, stills and cards for the first trilogy including the jumbo still with Art by Ralph McQuarrie printed for Return Of the Jedi (click on each image for details).

May The Force Be With You!

All our STAR WARS posters are here

If you like this entry, check the other 9 parts of this week’s Blog as well as our Blog Archives and all our NEW POSTERS

All our ON SALE posters are here

The posters above courtesy of ILLUSTRACTION GALLERY

[kittensjonsa]

Alayne

For @jonxsansafanfiction Valentine’s Day Feb 4: Confessions

This is an emotional piece, so do note for emotional triggers e.g family deaths, stalking, bad life choices etc and some strong language. I’m not sure if I got the trope right but oh well.. This might be painful to read because it’s a little emotionally messed up or painful to read coz it’s just crap.. Anyway thanks for reading! xx ******************

Sansa smoothed the satin skirt she had worn specially for tonight. It was a deep red, a colour Sansa thought always brought out her vixen side and paired it with her organza blouse and snakeskin heels. Perfect, she thought. A few sips of Pinot calmed her nerves, even after two years yet whenever the text or call came, she felt her stomach do somersaults.

She had been fortunate enough to have had mostly gentlemen during those years and most of them just enjoyed an evening of companionship and nothing more. Some of them were her regulars, they went to the same restaurant, sit at the same bar and usually would order the same drinks and chat about the same things. It was almost routine, Sansa had her diary planned out for them. Sometimes she would have someone new for the night. And those nights, were the toughest on Sansa. Sansa didn’t know who to feel more sorry for, these men who were starved for attention or herself, enabling them.

But at least she didn’t need to worry about student loans anymore. It was just Bran’s medical bills and groceries she had to worry about. They hadn’t always gotten along, but it was to Sansa’s great relief when Arya’s scholarship came at the most needed time. Being the sole breadwinner of the family was a tough role she had to play for quite some time now. The guilt that plagued her in the beginning slowly gave way to expensive physiotherapy sessions and costly school textbooks. She wasn’t proud of the choice she made but it was a choice nevertheless, that helped her tragedy stricken family carry on with their lives. Or whatever that was left of it. A sacrifice she was willing to pay for if it meant keeping her family together, all three of them.

Sansa smiled graciously as she was greeted by the door man. The W was always her regular meeting place for first timers. She liked the bar which had a terrace that overlooked the city. And she had made friends with the bartender who was a kind and fatherly type that reminded her of her own.

Sansa looked at the text on her phone again to check the time.

“Well, if isn’t my favourite lady,” a familiar voice greeted her as she approached the bar.

“Hi George. How are you? Any of that Malbec you have from the other night?” Sansa beamed at the stout bearded man. She had learned so much about wines, choosing and tasting countless bottles, from George whom Sansa was convinced secretly owned the hotel bar he worked in.

“Oh yes, it was a good one eh? Coming right up. Just you tonight?”

“Oh no, I’m on a date. So I’m hoping he’ll turn up. If not it’ll just be me and that fantastic vintage right here.”

Sansa had been to the hotel bar with friends, dates, clients and sometimes by herself on many occasions. It was the one place where she could hide behind the facade of a typical young female living her carefree perfect little life. Little did they know.

“Ah, lucky guy.”

Sansa sipped from her glass and glanced at the phone. It was five minutes past eight. He was late.

As Sansa watched George chat with the other patrons seated at the bar, she noticed a dark suit at the corner of her eye walking towards her direction. Sansa discreetly turned, wondering if it was him. A lanky blonde haired man was indeed walking towards her and he looked quite handsome. Young but very handsome. Sansa gave him a small smile.

“Hi excuse me, Miss? Alayne?”

“Yes, I am. You must be Cal.”

Sansa put on her best posture and most confident smile. His toothy grin smiled back. Very handsome, she thought gratefully.

“Well, apologies Miss but no I’m not. I’m Alex from the concierge. I was asked to give you this. From Mr Cal.”

Sansa took the small white envelope written with the name Alayne on it. She smiled as he wished her a good evening. Sansa opened the envelope and read the note that was inside of it.

‘Dear Miss Alayne, I didn’t want to waste one second of our time together since it is our first meeting. I hope you wouldn’t mind that I’ve arranged for our meeting to be in our room instead. The key card is enclosed and I hope to see you soon. Yours, C. Penthouse Suite 5115

Sansa looked at the key card. She held it tightly in her hand, knowing that this was going to be one of those tough nights again. Sansa read the note again. It was handwritten legibly but something stood out to her. It seemed familiar, as if she had seen this writing before. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it yet and she hoped to God it wasn’t one of her professors. Nonetheless, the rules were, meet and greet first. If there were any red flags, any danger, there was a number on speed and voice dial she would call. Sansa steeled herself and took a deep breath. She sipped the remaining of her wine and waited for George to settle her bill.

“Is he coming?” Sansa almost giggled at the choice of words. Sansa shook her head.

“No he just texted me that he’ll meet me somewhere else so yeah, calling it a night then.” George shook his head in disapproval.

“He’s an idiot. Stay safe and have a good one.”

“I will and you too George.”

Sansa waved her goodbye and stepped out of the bar. Lying was becoming second nature to her, it was almost effortless. It seemed that the mundane worked with most people. The dullest of reasons to ensure the matter won’t ever be spoken of again. Too boring to bring up. Sansa sighed as she pressed the lift button. She tapped the key card on the reader as she entered it and noticed the penthouse suites were on the 50th floor. She had never graced the hotel hallways of the W hotel. Her clients usually had their own preferred sanctuary. The bar was hers.

The lift opened to a spacious private lobby. Sansa knocked lightly. It was polite to do so. She took another deep breath as she slid in the card and opened the door.

Sansa’s jaw went slack as she stepped in and saw what was the most exquisite view of the city. The room had its own private terrace and the fireplace was lit. Sansa looked around and noticed that she was alone. Perhaps he wanted her to get ready for him. Sansa’s eyes found on a small envelope on the table. Another note, she thought.

'Dear Alayne,

I hope the room is to your liking, I wanted to make sure that everything is perfect for our first night together. If you step into the bedroom, there will be everything you need to make yourself comfortable and I do want you to be as comfortable as possible. Will see you soon.

Yours, C.

Sansa walked to the bedroom and fell in love with its elegant and stunning decor. He’s a big spender, she thought. The bed was a jumbo king sized one and laying on it was a silk robe. Sansa’s hand caressed the silk robe, it was fine and just the colour she would have picked. Sansa picked it up and noticed a lace chemise peeking out from underneath.

He adores the female body, another thought drifted in as Sansa held the chemise against her body. If he was coming up soon, she had better ready herself for him. That was the request. That he wanted her to wear something of his choice as he requested. Sansa stepped into the bathroom which was just as big as the bedroom.

The marble tub was large enough to accommodate a couple and Sansa wondered if the evening would end up in a naughty bubble bath. Sansa took off her clothes and put on the silk chemise and robe. She left her silk stockings and garter belt on as well as her heels. They usually like it on anyway, she mused. Sansa tied up her hair in a ponytail she thought would look great with what she was asked to wear. She knew from experience that neck kisses were one way to avert French ones. Sansa stepped out of the bathroom and draped her own clothes on the armchair. She might as well enjoy it, when would she ever have the chance to lay in a bed of a $3000 a night penthouse suite.

Sansa was good at making the best out of things. It was the only way she could ever keep her sanity. Sansa wandered around the large room and came across another envelope on the nightstand. This time, it was just cold hard cash. No handwritten note. Sansa counted the bills, there was an extra thousand in it. That usually counted as a tip but tips usually meant something more. Sansa shut her eyes and tried to calm her nerves. She liked surprises but in this job, surprises weren’t usually welcomed. Sansa placed the envelope in her clutch and decided she would have another drink.

The whiskey felt like fire down her throat but it would be a good anaesthetic to what she had to face in a few moments. Sansa stood against the open glass doors and looked out at the view. She tried to imagine herself waiting for a husband to come home. She would greet him in her sexy nightie, in her slut heels, hand him a drink and gently massage his shoulders as he sits on the plush sofa, kissing away the pain tenderly and lovingly. That was what a wife would do, wouldn’t it? Or the kind most men hoped to have.

Sansa eyes fluttered open as she heard a click behind her. The door was shut by someone entering. Her client was here. Sansa didn’t quite want to turn to face him yet. She wasn’t really ready for him. In fact she could never be ready when she had evenings like these.

She breathed in deeply in order to stop her pulse from racing. And sweat would stain the lovely silk that adorned her body. Sansa pursed her lips and prepared to put on her sexiest smile to greet her husband for the night.

“So it’s true. It IS you.” Sansa’s eyes widened in horror as she heard a familiar raspy voice greeting from behind her.

“I didn’t want to believe it when I heard about you.. I wanted to see it for myself. Sansa… This is.. Sansa look at me,” the voice carried on and demanded. The tinge of disappointment was apparent. Sansa’s heart raced as she slowly turned around. His dark eyes and dark curls were unmistakable.

“Jon? Why..”

“I heard things Sansa. I beat up the mouths of those who said those things. But I can’t believe it… I can’t believe it’s really you.” Sansa pulled at her robe to cover her shame and anger. He had the audacity. He had the balls to tell it to her face about 'things’ he heard about her doing what she was doing. How dare he, judge her when he was the one paying for all this? Sansa felt hot tears rolling down her cheeks and stepped away when Jon inched closer.

“No! Fuck you Jon! Why the fuck are you here? Don’t you fucking dare step any closer! What you couldn’t look up Facebook or the bloody telephone book for that? You had to do this? And see me like this? Where were you when we needed you? When Robb died, when everybody fucking died! You think I enjoy doing this? You fucker, one more step and I’m calling the police!”

Sansa’s rage was unleashed, years of grief and trouble, years of trying to stay strong when left alone to deal with Robb’s death shortly after Mother’s. Jon was gone, no word since he left for college. Jon stopped and stood where he was. His eyes were still on her, albeit softer this time. There was unresolved guilt in them. She knew how that looked like. She faced it everyday in the mirror.

Sansa felt her legs go from under her and swayed over to the couch. Shame, guilt, embarrassment, anger and hate were in the huge mixed bag of emotions that was all stirred up in her. Sansa felt like she wanted to scream.

“Sansa.. Please. I’m sorry for all this, the call and all of that, but I tried, honest to God I did! I couldn’t find Arya on Facebook, or Rickon or Bran or you even! I went to the old house but you guys aren’t living there anymore. Sansa I did, I looked for all of you. I wanted to find you.”

Sansa turned to glare at him with her teary eyes. She didn’t care if her make up was ruined or even if her mascara ran.

“Rickon’s dead.”

Sansa saw Jon eyes stare back at her in disbelief and hung his head down. He started to cry. Good, Sansa thought, I’ve cried for so long, Jon.

“I’m sorry Sansa..”

“Sorry you weren’t around or sorry you just got the news?” Sansa didn’t hold back. Jon had asked for it.

“Arya’s in college now and Bran.. Well Bran is alive. He’s still paralysed from the waist down but he’s alive. In case you needed an update.” Sansa calmed herself down and stood up. She felt strong enough to get dressed and leave when a firm arm grip stopped her.

“Sansa, please don’t. This was just wrong, I know it, Please don’t go. I’m an ass, I know that. Just please don’t go. I’m so alone, I need you here right now, please,” Jon pleaded through his tears and quaking voice. He let go of her arm. Sansa had never seen her cousin cry before. She wished for Jon to come back to the Stark family after Robb had passed. Jon and Robb were as close as brothers. How different it would be if Jon was there for her and Arya and Bran, or even Rickon. But it all changed after her father’s death. And Sansa never knew what she was in for since then. Alone was a feeling that kept her up at night. Every night since.

“Why did you call? Who told you about this? I never used my real name so how did you know about this?”

Jon kept silent. He didn’t want to tell the whole actual truth. Though he had smashed the face of one Meryn Trant, an associate of the Lannisters, who boasted of his disdain for red heads and who thought he came across an escort at a 'gentleman’s club’ event that looked just like his cousin Sansa. Joffrey Lannister with his big mouth and his even bigger ego, fragile as it was, had a talent in shaming his exes. It took Jon a while to track down Joffrey and the trail led him to the one name, he knew, that could only associate Sansa with. Alayne. When he asked a few dozen agencies for a date with a 5 foot 9 leggy, blue eyed red haired lass named Alayne, he thought he was going insane. Sansa wouldn’t be doing this. She was a lady in every way, raised well as one, Jon couldn’t imagine, even the darker side of him, Sansa as an escort.

Up until he stumbled upon one that matched his description perfectly. As skeptical as he was, Jon knew he had to try. Part of him didn’t want to but part of him wouldn’t forgive himself for not trying to track down the only family he had. He had wished and hoped it wasn’t Sansa who walked through the door of the hotel. His heart broke the moment he watched from afar as Alex handed the envelope to her.

Jon had never cried so hard before as he sat back and bawled in his car. He couldn’t leave her there as much as he didn’t want to face the truth. What has his family become? There was only one person to blame and it was him. If only he had been there when Robb died. If only he wasn’t the coward who left not wanting to deal with his beloved Uncle Ned’s death. There were so many reasons for him to leave Sansa and the Stark family behind but yet there was only one reason that made him come up to the suite. Sansa.

“Alayne. I know that name.”

Sansa stared at him. Alayne was a name that only she knew. A name that as a girl she kept in her diary.

“It was the name of your favourite doll. That I broke when you were eight. It had red hair and blue eyes just like you. You said that if one day if you had a daughter, she would look just like Alayne.” Jon’s eyes slowly met with hers as he said it. It was true and Sansa couldn’t stand the sight of him since the incident.

“But how could you know that? I sure as hell didn’t tell you that when were kids, Jon,” Sansa shook her head at the memories flooding back to her. There were happy times in her childhood she thought would help her withstand the pain of loss but the pain was too great to bear. Trying to deal with real life helped get her back on track. She had to, there was only herself she could depend on.

“I know. I read it in your diary. I wanted to know why you hated me so much. And yeah, I’m sorry for that,” Jon confessed apologetically.

The evening was becoming exhausting and one that exposed raw nerves and reopened old wounds that never really healed properly. Sansa realised the more she sat and talk the more tired she would be. She felt a calm and peace now, perhaps from knowing that Jon was here with her, alive and well. But the shame was still there.

“No one can know about this, Jon. I have bills to pay and Bran to look after. This was the only thing that would do both. Nobody knows I do this.”

Jon held out his hand and waited for Sansa to reach out. Sansa sighed and held it in hers. Jon pulled her in for an embrace, one she didn’t think she would ever experience.

“I promise you, no one will. You have my word. You don’t have to this if you don’t want to. We’ll figure it out together. I just want you back, and Arya and Bran. I’ll look after you, I’ll help out I promise. Whenever you need me, for whatever, you’ll have me there right by your side. Sansa, I won’t ever leave you.” Jon promised her as he peppered her head with kisses, her fiery red hair smelling of lavender and lemon, a smell that made him warm and fuzzy inside.

Sansa sniffed to stifle a sob and nodded her head. She believed him. She wanted him with her. She wanted him back and around her. She was so tired of being strong. And sacrificing herself, her body, her soul, her dignity and her conscience.

Perhaps, she had to confess, that it was a long time coming, that she didn’t want to do this anymore.

[lobbycards]

Betrayed, German jumbo lobby card. West German theatrical release 1980

[chipandco]

Disney Cruise Line has the perfect holiday cruises awaiting your family! Beginning in November the Disney Magic, Disney Wonder, Disney Dream and Disney Fantasy are all decked in holiday cheer for the Very Merrytime Cruises. These cruises are packed full of holiday festivities including traditional “turkey day” fanfare, Christmas feasts, “snow flurries” and New Year’s Eve galas.

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Disney Cruise Line Offers Magical Winter Holiday Cruises Disney Cruise Line has the perfect holiday cruises awaiting your family! Beginning in November the Disney Magic, Disney Wonder, Disney Dream and Disney Fantasy are all decked in holiday cheer for the…

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Clara Bow in Hoopla

1933