#lucky penny entertainment | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

astrogre · 6 months

Text

Money In The Houses 💴

To be precise each house can show you something about money, for an example your 6H can show daily services you subscribe pay for like Netflix or HBO. but there are 4 primary houses that specifically focus on and show us about money these are: The 2nd house, 5th house, 8th house and 11th house. They all show resource accumulation in different ways. 2nd house and 8th house are the main houses to focus on for money astrology, secondary would be 11H and 5H then all the other houses have their own subtler money relevancy.

2nd house, The house of Values and Possessions, it shows:

stored wealth like income, earning potential, salary, savings, assets, possessions (like jewels, cars)

- how you spend

- how you earn

- the kind of assets and possessions that you own

- what you spend on

- how you perceive the value of money

- how you save

- The skills and talents you use to make money for yourself

- the state of your financial stability

- Your attitudes on saving

2nd house is money earned through your own personal efforts, the skills that you have, your blood sweat and tears. Money here is made through you and your efforts alone. It is long lasting assets and the kind that are considered when calculating your net worth.

Look at sign ruling this house and the planet. Do they work well together or contradict each other? E.g a Virgo ruled second house with Uranus inside has two energies that contradict one another, Virgo needing to be picky on purchases VS Uranus being impulsive and purchasing what it wants so when these two energies work in the same building you may even feel bad for purchasing things before doing research on it and get disappointed with your purchase because you just went for it in the moment

Finding where the 2nd house ruler planet is in the chart shows the best topics, best places , best way you can earn money that’s beneficial to you.

Eg. If your 2H was in Virgo, look at 6th house what’s inside of it? And where mercury is in your chart. Mercury (ruled by Virgo) in this case shows you how you can can excel in an industry under the topic of the house it’s in. Whereas the 6th house and The planets that would fall into the 6th house, would indicate industries you’d do well in that are a combination of the planets in there and what kind of work you could do/what planet energies you can emphasise to gain more money on your career based on the 2nd house.

5th house, the house of Gambling and risky investments, it shows:

investments in startup companies ,gambling, investing in penny stocks

- how much you may make from investing, gambling and creative endeavours

- Money made from personal hobbies, creative talents and projects

- how lucky you are at earning money from risky investments

- Your approach to gambling

- How you spend resources on leisure activities and entertainment

- Attitudes on risky spending/gambling

- The outcome of your gambling and risky investments

This would be your trading 212 and creative artist placement. I can imagine people that invested in crypto currency back in 2008 and people that purchased nfts having this house active. 5H placements can make you lucky in the industry you are in, it can give you that boost in industries that require you to need to have luck or attention to make it. This can be entertainment stars, the lottery, entrepreneurship or just being really blessed with income from taking risks for fun. I’ve noticed natives with this house active tend to be successful businesses investors, gamblers, fashion designers, actors and artists, because these industries also require a bit of luck to make it, that’s why it’s also known as thie “star” house for celebrities. If planets here are beneficial native just happens to have the right things happen for them at the right time.

Key figures with 5th house active/stellium: Timothee chalamet, will smith, Vivienne Westwood, Alexander McQueen, Calvin Harris, Mozart, Elon Musk

11th house, the house of tangible material gains:

ready to be spent wealth like, liquid cash, profit, products (clothing, food), promotion from work

- money made from your public image and things your known for (fame)

- Your financial status and social standing

- How you can gain profit and wealth online

- Money made from your ideas, goals and inventions

- How money comes easiest to you

- The type of resources acquired from

- What part of our lives we may live in luxury or can afford to spend more on (E.g 11H sag being luxury travel)

11H is on hand liquid cash, things like stocks , disposable income, the tangible stuff that you can actively spend, it’s pretty unexpected too like 8th house except 8th house income comes from places you didn’t know about but 11H gains come from sources you always knew about but are just suddenly now benefiting you out of nowhere. You know how some people can be famous and still be broke, with a prominent or beneficial 11 house, you automatically get money along with the attention from their public image. This is because 11H is naturally the representative of social connections, networking and communities but also because of derivative astrology

The 10th house represents your career, public image and the 2nd house represents money/finances so you count 2 houses starting from 10 using Derivative Astrology (10 => 11) meaning the 11th house represents money made from our career and public image. This is why this is known as the influencer house.

People tend to use their fame and wealth from this house to start businesses. This house works really well with 8H because it kind of forces other people to acknowledge you. It’s a little different from the 5th house in terms of getting money from your inventions -In the sense that the very concept behind your creations bring you material gain whereas 5th house are blessed for expressing themselves and in risky situations (not strictly exclusive to creative arts, but the art industry is naturally a hit or miss industry). This house is very similar to 2nd house however I’d say 2nd house is more long term but 11H is quick and easy, makes you appear wealthy like rappers and celebrities living a lavish lifestyle but don’t have something to fall on if it runs out. 2nd house is longevity and allows a native to live off their assets if necessary.

8th house, The house of inheritance, joint resources and investments, it shows:

inheritance, debt, taxes,investors, gifts, joint resources,insurance, the money people owe you

- how much resources you receive from other people

- How much assets, money and resources you may share with others and inherit

- The individuals you may inherit from,have joint bank accounts, shared resources with that financially bless you

- where your resources from other people come from

- the kind of people and industries that may invest/donate/give to you

- How you handle and manage your debt and loans

- your ability to adapt to financial challenges and a complete change of class or income, essentially how you handle financial transformations

- How much you may leave for others when you pass away

- Your ability to repay financial obligations like debt and taxes

- The financial downfalls or sudden financial gains that come from unexpected sources or a source you didn’t know about (8th house is a house of secrets and in the dark so you don’t really see it coming)

- Attitudes towards other peoples resources and the concept of debt/loans

- What kind of resources, assets and things you may receive from other people

Honestly 8th house covers a lot in finances, it’s the kind of money you get for literally no reason, like you can just be sitting there and money falls on to your lap, it can be known as the nepotism house, resources gained not as a result of your day to day efforts (unless making aspects to 6H/Saturn), but a thing you get all at once as a “here you go, well done!”. You really don’t see it coming either, having a blessed 8H is good but you also need to maintain your inheritance otherwise you can end up losing it all that’s why it’s important to have a grounded 2nd house. The kind of people that tend to have this house active and beneficial would be people that are blessed with money in their darkest of times, natives put in the will of their family, people that marry into wealth, being involved with financial contracts that benefit the native more than the other.

E.g Uranus here would want it’s independence, Pluto would feel entitled to others finances and therefore native would excel in taking money from others, Jupiter is lucky here so you would just be blessed with inheritances and financial gains from others even though you didn’t plan for it.

Also look at the ruling planets of this house, say if you had an Aries 8th house, locating which house Mars is in your chart can show you which kind of places you can be given money from most, E.g your Aries is in 11th house and your Mars is in 3rd House you would make great financial gains on the topic/themes of networking, social media E.g. online companies giving you their products in hope of you trying them, being recommended for bonus or accolades because someone you vaguely know mentioned you to their boss, whereas Mars (Aries planetary ruler in 3H) could also indicate who you get your money from like siblings, people you share your ideas with etc.

587 notes · View notes

lirational · 7 days

Text

Bait

Eldritch AU Path to Nowhere inspired by this image.

Monster!Shalom x Reader

Warnings: Dark content, dubious consent, general monsterfuckery, implied breeding, questionable anatomy, questionable science ethics or honestly ethics in general. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT

SMUT UNDER THE CUT, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

—

“It seems that they take a particular enjoyment to observing both of us.”

A statement, not a question. You were used to observing beings that are not of this world, captured by unknown means and now kept here to minimize their danger to the world at large. Monsters. You hesitate to call them that, as the term implies they were driven by familiar, animalistic instincts much like creatures of this world, while they seem to operate less on instinct and more on an unfathomable logic that you, and most human beings, lack the capacity to comprehend, a phenomenon which you and everyone here would witness whenever any of them deigned to entertain themselves with your reactions.

Perhaps, you should count yourself lucky that even after the higher ups captured them and shoved them in this facility designed as a cage, most of them were willing to adapt to parameters acceptable to humans. You’ve seen the ease of which some of them ruin lives when agitated, remembering that hapless scientist who tried to debate S-087 about the true nature of the universe and ended up being a little less, ah, comprehensible after she witnessed a glimpse of something not meant to be seen. You shudder, lost in the thought of the fate of your colleague after that ordeal instead of entertaining the monster in front of you with a response—

A cold feeling interrupted your thoughts, slender fingers wrapping on your wrist as the monster directed your hand to touch her cheek. She was now only centimeters away from your face, her fingers playing with your hand as she asked, “Your thoughts seem to be wandering away. What is it in your expression, ah, penny for your thoughts?”

She paused, letting her words sink in. In that brief moment, the triangular symbol in her eye seemed to flicker and flash.

“I cannot say I like being treated as if I’m not present.”

“S-017, I only wanted to record more information about that World of Mania you mentioned. Your thoughts about the research procedure is irrelevant,” you answer, the fake detachment all too evident to you. A part of you dislike treating her in such a cold manner, but this was one of the most basic things they drilled in your training manual. They are not people, there is no need to treat them as such, and don’t show your fear to them, for they might - and on occassions, have - take advantage of it.

“It’s Shalom,” she responded, her smile unfading, face close enough you could feel the warmth of her breathing. You have been warned about this, read the case files about how Sha— S-017 presents a veneer of perfection in each of her movements, and only when you pay very close attention you can see traces of her inhumanity. Every single part of her seems to be sculpted without flaw, from her porcelain skin to her doctored expressions, down to the vivid shade of maroon hair that faded into white as they tickled your skin and pooled on your lap from your proximity. Some of your colleagues have theorized that her perfection was meant to lull, to decrease one’s wariness towards her and lure people’s eyes from her less human traits. About the only part of her that gives away her true nature was the triangle in her right eye, but you suspect that if she didn’t want to show that part of her, you won’t even know it was there. “Perhaps it is irrelevant to the scheduled questioning we’re having right now, but I’m sure you are familiar with scientific curiosity.”

In that moment, your senses tinged a little as cold, vivid blue invaded the edges of your vision. A warning? Even if Shalom didn’t mean it as that, you’d rather not push it into a situation where being smashed into bloody pulp is the least undesirable fate. Many of your colleagues have theorized that the creatures held here merely stayed because the facility provided a measure of entertainment or possess something they want, and if any of them has a shred of determination to escape, the facility would be gone without a trace in the time it took for you to blink.

“I’m sorry, Shalom, may I ask you to elaborate about the World of Mania you mentioned in our last session?” You indulged her.

“Mhm, that’s more like it,” she hummed, clearly pleased. “Sure, I don’t mind, maybe I’ll tell you later.”

In your overstuffed armchair, you could feel something slither onto you, her stare anchoring you in place as the foreign tendril slides up your leg. More joined to trace your arms, and you glance at the camera stationed nearby, wordlessly pleading for the scientist watching the whole thing to get up and get help. It didn’t take long for Shalom to use another of her tendrils as a lithe finger to tilt your chin back to her, drowning you into her unmoving stare, “I will tell you, but in exchange…” she let her words sink in for a moment, “Won’t you entertain me?”

There was no need to be a, well, rocket scientist to understand what she was getting at. Her words carried a certain cadence to it, and you squirm in response, your head turning to look at the camera to scream for help, the monster’s feelings be damned. However, she was faster, one tendril rubbing circles on your clothed clit, the other teasing your lips, before holding down your tongue to render your plea ineffective. For a moment, blue flooded your vision, and when it subsided, the space around you has been warped, the door out of this room buried behind layers and layers of walls as the space itself warped to form a dark, foreboding maze. Did they not see what happened to you? Did they decide to dispose of you as punishment for something you weren’t aware of—?

“Again, what is bothering you? Ah, let me guess, are you bothered by the eyes trained on us?”

“S-017, I’m not here to, in your words, entertain you. You’re crossing and breaking several— ah, facility rules we are both bound with,” your voice was shaking, the authority and distance you tried to imbue into it fading as you gulp at the feeling of another tendril slipping past the band of your undergarments to play at your shamefully wet core. Your back was pressed to the stuffed chair, your movements limited as the tendrils around your limbs started to tighten, not enough to hurt, but enough to disallow you from moving even an inch without her permission.

From your files, S-017 seemed to be the rational sort, and you hoped the appeal to her rationality would allow you to escape this horrifying predicament. Even as your body started to ache and quiver with need from Shalom’s teasing touches, you still have enough of a mind to remember that both of you are being watched and recorded. At least, you would buy another few precious seconds for the security squad to come barging in, hopefully distracting her—

“Frankly, your rules hold no relevance to me,” Shalom answered, mismatched eyes glancing at the direction of what seemed to be a wall she erected herself by warping the space. “I’m sure you are familiar with the concept of bartering, hm? You get information, and I get a little bit of entertainment while I’m cooped in here. It’s a win-win for both of us, hm?”

Each word from her lips seem to infuse the air itself, thickening each breath you take in and eroding your reason to stoke your desire. Shalom stood up, taking a step back while she snapped her fingers, engulfing the chair you sat on with a gelatinous substance before the object disappeared into the darkness. Now, you were only held up by her tendrils, helplessly hung in the air as she drank in your appearance. Four more tentacles, two sliding out from somewhere on her back and the others from behind her legs, move towards you and made quick work on your clothes, the articles left to drop in a haphazard pile on the floor.

“I’m not here for you, or anyone else to have sex with. I will forward the request for approval to the facility if you want something of that nature, but—“

In that moment, the symbol on her right eye seems to bore right into your soul, then she stroked your cheek, voice soothing, tickling the air and making you gulp. Was it fear or anticipation? You could no longer be sure. “What got you so frightened? You will not share the fate of your colleagues, or come back as anything else but a normal, living person. Does it count as killing you a little if you come back out perhaps a bit exhausted?” She mused, practiced amusement sliding into her tone. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it pleasurable for you, too.”

Another couple of tendrils engulfed her clothes, and you were left with the sight of her naked body. Just how many did she hide behind that human appearance of hers? Regardless, like what you had always seen, every part of her was sculpted to perfection, any blemish and flaw hidden, or perhaps, she never allowed any to mar her. A few of your colleagues had theorized she made her own body, or perhaps, stole one from an unsuspecting person before she came to be imprisoned in the facility, but regardless, S-017 - Shalom’s perfectionism was well-known among your fellow researchers, to an unsettling degree.

“Does this body appeal to you?” The question snapped you out of your own reverie, not helped as she emphasizes her words with a rough pinch on your nipples. She sounded amused, sitting on thin air propped with her own alien limbs. This was the first time you had ever gotten a proper look of them, the tendrils starting with a vivid maroon of her hair, before fading to white and glowing in a bright, luminescent blue at the tips.

“Answer me,” she demanded, tendrils forcing you to look at her eyes. A lulling blue glow flooded your vision for a moment, and when it fades, your mind felt hazy, cloudy, your inhibition loosening as approval tumbled down from your lips. It felt good, it felt good as she smiled, and at least, even if the facility won’t send anyone, you can take comfort in the fact that the monster before you seem to be fond enough of you. The limbs propping you up shifted and made you lean forward, ass up in the air, another tentacle invading your puckered hole, only leaving your mouth free.

“Service me, and I’ll see that you’re returned, more or less unharmed.”

Accompanied with a flash of blue in your vision, her order seeped into your mind in a more direct way compared to a verbal command, an easy pleasure invading your body as you leaned as close as she allowed you, to the dripping slit between her legs. Hesitation screamed at the edge of your thoughts, yet, you could no longer process it, your tongue lapping at her with the fervor rivalling one induced by addiction. Your reward came in the form of pleasure as the tendrils nestled inside you start to move in tune with your movements, brushing that spongy spot while unnatural glee washed all over your body. It was as if each of the monster’s words carry a hidden reward, one that would be released as flashes of happiness as you obeyed her.

As your climb ever closer to your peak, Shalom released two more tendrils from her back, covering your eyes until all you could feel, could hear, could taste, was her, her moans of pleasure that sends happiness jolting straight into your quivering body, and the feeling of her tendrils invading deep, deep into you as if to prevent you from knowing, perceiving anything else. In the darkness, your senses felt sharper, each brush becoming tenfold in its intensity as you felt yourself thrown and engulfed in the throes of pleasure.

Everything was heightened, sharper. As you reached that sweet release, you tasted her release right at the same time, only for it to be snatched in an instant as you taste the monster’s lips on yours. You were far too distracted, unaware as foreign objects settled deep in your body, only feeling the oddity for a moment before you were dragged back to feel the full force of pleasure. She swallowed your screams, leaving you dripping, out of breath, and hung suspended in the air as the tentacles covering your eyes start to shift away, allowing you your sight again, to see Shalom looking especially pleased with herself. In contrast to the mess you were in, she had already dressed herself, no proof of the pleasure you had shared could be seen on her.

A contrast to your messed-up state.

While propping you up, she lowered you and let you stand, and in a flash of blue in your vision, you were already dressed.

“That completes the deal, as for my end—“

A tentacle probed into your head, not at all painful, yet there was a strangeness to it that you couldn’t put your finger on. As it reached a part of your mind, you saw images, information engraved directly into your memories. It felt like an eternity before she released her hold on you, and when she did, the room has returned to its prior state, no trace of the maze in sight.

“Huh…?” You mumble, dumbfounded. “Did no one see that, or was that just a—“

“Dream? Of course not, they have been pretty busy, I might add, but they can’t reach both of us in the corner of an ever-shifting maze. I would estimate it will take them around a century to find the exit, if they keep searching the entire time,” Shalom smiled at your dumbfounded expression, “Don’t worry, once you open that door, they’ll be transported back somewhere in this building. After all, I want you to be able to come back here without suffering any consequence, but…”

Her smile turns hungry.

“Come back in time, otherwise, you’ll be in for quite an amusing experience, alright?”

#path to nowhere #path to nowhere x reader #ptn x reader #path to nowhere headcanons #ptn shalom x reader

165 notes · View notes

charliedawn · 1 year

Text

How would they react to a fan ?

(Only one of the stories will have a bad ending. Can you guess which one ?)

Penny :

To be honest, it was a surprise for Penny to find an adult who could actually see him.

He usually stayed hidden until a nice prey came along, but he had just finished one of his "dinners" when you found him.

He ha no escape and sought to mess you up with some freak show and very loud sounds of cracking bones...But, was surprised when you started clapping enthusiastically.

"LOVE the show ! And LOVE the fake blood !", you told him with the largest smile on your face and he tilted his head quizzically at you before looking at his bloody hands...What fake blood ?

He was certainly a little surprised at first, his surprise quickly turned into amusement.

He laughed and just thought you were entertaining. He had never met anyone like you...And he didn't know if it was a compliment—but he liked you.

"You're funny ! I think I'm gonna call you puppy !"

He then leaned forward, all amusement having left his face as he whispered.

"...Tell me. Do you like my smile, puppy ?"

Suddenly, your smile faltered as you started smelling a very metallic smell from his bloody mouth.

Okay...Maybe, it wasn't fake blood afterall.

Pennywise :

Pennywise had been practicing his magic tricks away from the sewers, in case Penny would see him and make fun of him.

Penny had told him that children weren't interested in magic tricks anymore, but he still had the will to practice...Just in case.

He sighed as he made a coin disappear in one hand and reappear in the other.

But, there was no joy in it.

Maybe Penny was right afterall...Maybe...Maybe, people just didn't like simple magic tricks anymore ?

But then, he heard someone clap.

His head snapped towards the source of the sound and he was surprised to find a surprise guest to his little solo show.

"Loved that. Do you have any other magic tricks ? Would love to see them."

His eyes widened a little and he suddenly stood up before his lips split into a malicious grin.

"Well, aren't you the little cutie pie...Tell me, what or who made you think it was a good idea to come here ? Wanna thank them for getting me my dinner for free."

You laughed. It threw him off.

None of his victims had ever laughed in his presence...It was strange. That's when he started digging in your head and realized why you weren't scared. He chuckled.

"Oh ? I see now. Seems like we got ourselves a little fan of horror stories, huh ?"

You wiped a tear away and nodded.

"Yeah. Sorry...I just can't. I love the whole 'horror clown gig' you got going on."

He bit back a dark laughter and the urge to correct you. It was no 'gig'. But, it had been so long since he last had an audience.

He sighed and sat back down before smiling and eyeing your pocket significantly.

You understood and checked your pocket, only to smile at the penny now in your pocket.

"Aww...Thanks."

'Don't thank me yet, sweetheart.', he thought. '...~Not when you just got sold for a penny..."

Freddy :

To be completely honest, Freddy hadn't expected when he got summoned into someone's dreams.

He was minding his own business in his own dream world when he was sucked into one particular dream.

But, not anyone's dreams...One filled with missing posters of the kids he killed and many of his old belongings.

....Why in the heck was everything there ?

The only thing he couldn't recognize was the sleeping angel on the bed, staring at him with wide eyes and a rapidly beating heart.

He first thought you were afraid, but no...You weren't afraid.

You were...thrilled. He then realized what was happening and chuckled to himself before letting his bladed run-on your bedsheets until reaching you.

"...So, you're a fan, huh ?", he teased while letting the tip of one of his blades run down your face. "Pretty too...Lucky me."

He hummed appreciatively before cackling mischievously.

"...I wonder how much you can take before you break ?"

Freddy is narcissistic. Knowing you're his fan would end up in a significant boost to his already gigantic ego.

One I'm not sure you'd survive...

Jason :

Jason's sole objective is to protect Crystal Lake. So, he never imagined someone would actually enter willingly to find him and ask for his autograph.

His first reaction ?

Confusion.

A...fan ?

Michael never had a friend. Imagine his astonishment when he hears that he's got fans. He'd be hella confused.

What...What was he supposed to do with you ?

You weren't particularly disrespectful or destructive towards his nature. But, he did feel kind of weirded out by the fact that you would have a portfolio on his every crime...

But then, he realized exactly why you were a fan when he found you tending to a squirrel with a broken leg.

It wasn't about the murders.

It was about his mission.

You knew he protected the fauna and flora of the forest and you respected him for it. It brought him a bit of comfort and reassurance on your true purpose.

He then started trusting you more and more and even started to enjoy your company to a certain extent.

He then offered you to stay with him and you didn't hesitate before accepting.

You had SO MUCH to learn from him afterall...

Michael :

You : "Boop. Got your nose."

Myers *trying very hard not to pull out his knife and stab you where you stand*

The first time you met Myers, he was needed someone to watch over his 'kids' (including Brahms, Jason, Five and Ester) while he was away to find a job.

You were the most...ANNOYING...babysitter in the world. But, he had no choice as every other babysitter had quit on sight of the 'kids' in question—especially Brahms.

So, he had to accept you.

Finally, after a couple of months...he had learnt to accept your presence, but didn't understand why you would be so excited around him.

You even insisted on reading when he was and helping him on cooking. Two of his favorite SOLO activities.

He finally decided to face you about your clearly weird behavior around him and didn't expect it when you answered with a large grin.

"Why Mr Myers...I am just such a BIG fan of yours."

He was renderer speechless, even though is mute.

Then, you leaned forward, as if to share a secret. But, when he bent forward, you booped him again.

Michael was surprised, but you were gone before he could as much as react.

He watched you intently as you hopped away and his eyes narrowed in slight worry.

That's when he noticed something....His knife was missing.

Brahms :

Brahms was thrilled when he realized that you were a fan of his. He didn't know why though ?

But, it didn't matter to Brahms. The only thing that mattered was that you liked him.

"You...fan of...Brahms ?", he asked before smiling from ear to ear. "Brahms...Brahms have fans ?!"

He was so excited and even though he had absolutely no idea how you found him or became a fan—he immediately invited you to stay with him.

You accepted and then started explaining that you had always wanted someone to play with. You knew you were too old for dolls, but you ha always wanted to play with someone.

And he couldn't have been happier to consider you a playmate.

You started playing together and Brahms could finally be himself around someone who understood him.

Brahms can be wary with strangers, but he is quick to befriend when the other person shows as much interest in him than him on them.

So, it wouldn't be too difficult to earn his trust, as long as you follow his rules.

Norman :

"Get away. Shoo. Shoo."

He would try to push you away.

Norman is the most famous slasher. The oldest. The most experienced. He perfectly knows that having fans isn't necessarily a good thing.

He had his fair share of psychos and paparazzi following his crimes over the years, some who even made it a personal challenge of theirs to hurt him.

They wanted to find out what made him tick, and some succeeded by pretending to be clients at the hotel and take an interest in his business.

He even wiped his hands after shaking yours on your first day.

He doesn't like having nosy people around, and even more those who make it their personal objective to unnerve or hurt him.

But, he quickly realized that you weren't like them.

You respected his business and even though he knew you to be a fan and a journalist, you never seemed to ask sensitive questions.

You were all "How are you's" and "How can I help". He was a little surprised at first, but quickly became used to your presence.

You weren't rude and even though you had inquired more than once an interview, you had never been insistant on it.

"Everything is going to be fine, Norman. I just want you to tell me the truth. The whole truth..."

Finally, he indulged as you had helped more than your fair share and when he sat down in front of you and squeezed his hand encouragingly—he had no choice but to believe in your sincerity.

Norman *sighs* : "Fine. My name is Norman Bates and I...I am the first slasher ever recorded in history. And, this is my story. My truth."

J and Arthur :

J laughed and Arthur frowned in incomprehension when they found you at their doorstep—asking to become their apprentice.

They both had very different feelings on the matter.

J was amused and took pleasure in carrying you around town while shooting and blowing stuff up.

Arthur on the other hand was wary at first and had asked you to stay behind and gave you a number of things to do in order to keep you safe.

J didn't bother about your safety and made it his personal duty to turn you into his personal Harley Quinn. So, he told you to disobey Arthur and made you follow them.

J *smirks before throwing you off an helicopter and jumping after you* : "CAREFUL ABOUT THE LANDING, AHAHAH !"

...Arthur was the one who jumped after the both of you with three parachutes.

"...Idiots.", he whispered to himself before rolling his eyes.

But, he still cackled as he fell behind the both of you.

J used the helicopter jump as proof of your sincerity and didn't need more.

However, Arthur...Arthur was worried because you were a fan of the Joker.

And Jokers never played fair...

Bo and Vincent Sinclair :

When Bo opened the door, he really wasn't expecting someone to actually be here to visit the wax museum.

It had been so long, he had completely forgotten about the flyers him and Lester had spread a while ago around the country.

But when you held out the slightly crumpled sheet in his face with stars in your eyes, he couldn't help the large grin that spread across his face.

"Well...Ain't that some lovely surprise ? A fan."

He tipped his head at you before sending you a cheeky wink.

"Came to visit our famous wax museum, huh ? Can't blame ya. It's to 'die for'."

Bo laughed and took a step back before calling for Vincent.

"Vincent ! Visitor !"

*Imagine that man walking towards you like that. My soul would leave my body*

Vincent came in and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you, his eyes widened in slight puzzlement.

He turned towards Bo quizzically who clicked his tongue and replied with a smile.

"We got someone real interested in your work. Thought you'd like to give them a tour ?"

Vincent stayed still for a few seconds before raising his hands to his mouth in glee. He then turned back towards you and seemed excited as he grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder to run to the museum with you.

Bo watched the both of you with a mischievous grin and pushed the rifle he was hiding with the tip of his foot under the table.

He would have to deal with you later...

#fandoms #imagine #fanfic #pennywise 2017 #pennywise 1990 #pennywise x reader #slashers #michael myers x reader #freddy krueger x reader #jason voorhees x reader #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #brahms heelsire x reader #norman bates x reader #the joker x reader #arthur fleck x reader

722 notes · View notes

cu7ie · 10 months

Text

⠀⠀⠀⋆｡˚ establishing connection . . . .

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀cutie secured!˚ ｡✩ ⋆

✩ 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔. mister mysterious benefactor.

CONTEXT. you're working your side-side gig, and manage to capture the attention of the biggest wig there. headcanons, drabble @ the end.

CONTENT. NSFW! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. inappropriate workplace conduct. public groping. non-consensual touching/harassment. reader is not into it at first, non/dub-con to con. rough sex, degradation, power imbalances. m aster/servant kink. spanking. toy usage.

you're a server at a party right? you're hired for this two-bit gig and it's alright or whatever! you got your drinks nicely arranged on one tray and snacks in the other and you're up down and around, doing your job as you should.

it's supposed to be a classy joint, and the people that hired you were willing to pay a pretty penny because the other server called out last minute!! so you're moseying with all these big wigs and everything is going very very swell.

one of the guys in the three piece suit says his name is suguru. he’s curious about more than the drinks in your hand or the appetizers in the other. he actually asks you for your name after he introduces himself, and in the moment there’s little foot traffic, he’s ushering you towards a couch so expensive that it probably could pay off your mortgage. if you had one, anyway.

he’s curious about you, which contrasts with your customer service submission - used to entertaining boring conversations about spreadsheets, you’re caught off guard by his forwardness - fumble your usual lines until you realize only real answers will work on him. so you try.

you're chatting politely with him for a bit, and unlike other customers he seems really interested in holding your attention! which wouldn't be a problem - if you didn't have a job to do. so you pull away.

suguru: oh? and i thought you liked my company?

he sounds offended, tone of voice managing to catch you off guard. you pause.

you: i do sir, but there's other guests i have to tend to, uh , sir.

he smiles a little but it feels insincere. you stand to leave, but he stops you.

you: uh, sir?

suguru's hand slides down your back, down your spine, towards your ass, until he's really sinking his fingers into your cheeks. a real hearty grope, in front of all these people at this dinner party. n’ it makes you whimper, your face burns as embarrassment edges your eyes, you don't know if you should cry or yell or just sit there and take it - because his other hand holds your hip so you’re as still as possible for him.

pulls you more onto his lap, just fondles you until he's feeling bold enough to dip a finger into your waistband. and people are looking.

they are looking at you and whispering about you and your head feels numb and hands more than a little sweaty,

hes grinding against you, but doesn't take it further than that. just enough to get a feel for your body, he says,

and when he lets you stand, he spanks your ass loud enough you feel like the whole room heard it. you’re not crying yet but you definitely will be in the bathroom 3 minutes from then!

once you make yourself look presentable, the host finds you and apologizes profusely for the behavior of their ‘guests’. when you get specific, and mention suguru by name, your boss suddenly looks bashful - as if they have nothing to offer but condolences. apparently suguru’s the guy they can’t make shit stick to.

you notice him, when you end up leaving early, just staring at you from that golden couch, a smile on his face like ‘we oughta do this again.’

he sends a shiver up your spine and you turn away, ignoring how you can feel his gaze sliding down your spine.

he’d proposition you later, getting in contact with the host to fork over your number. he'd offer you money first, he thinks you ‘look poor’, have casual conversational skills like commoners! someone like you couldn’t dream of getting your hands on that much bread in a lifetime. lucky thing, you don’t have to put in the work, like he did. just come to bed with him! it'll be more fun than someone like you could ever have!

after he humiliated you publically? you don't exactly jump into his arms to sleep with him! but he has other ways of convincing you:

an offer so ridiculous you literally would hate yourself for refusing, like we’re talking enough money to keep the lights on long past your expiration date - so much dough that you read the zero’s on the check and getou has to pick your jaw up off the floor for you.

you say you’ll have to mull it over, and spend the better part of the week rationalizing working for this weirdo.

it’s... it’s just sex right?

he's not ugly or anything. could even be handsome if you squint. .. older? sure. a creep? sure. but he's not .... terrible.... you guess? maybe if you squint? he's just really persistent …

but what’s the alternative? no bag? working menial temp jobs and coming home worse for wear?

on the 7th day of the week, you agree.

satoru with a master / servant kink? stop him right now!

maybe it was wrong for you to have assumed you'd be doing a job similar to the one he scouted you from. in the sense that a modicum of professionalism is required - because from jump, there is no semblance of normal and the ball lives in getou's court.

you arrive donning your butler get-up. nicely pressed button up shirt, with your smart black slack, sleek dress shoes; all in all, prepared for a day of busting your ass and appeasing guests.

getou barely even looks at you before he's sucking his teeth and digging into his closet for your 'proper attire.'

it is not practical for your skirt to be so short or your top so low cut and tight! you look (and feel) like a whore trying to bend over and dust whatever suguru told you to, and because he insisted you shouldn't be wearing underwear under his employ, he has a nice view of your cute hole and easy access to it, too.

he likes asking for the impossible just so he has an excuse to resort to 'disciplinary' actions. you've never been reprimanded on a job before - so imagine your surprise when it's less like a telling off, and more like corporal punishment.

he likes spanking a lot. he has a flog, a paddle, his hand (and he never, ever forgets to put his rings on.)

and sensory deprivation ? sometimes he'll tie you to his bed, blindfold and gag you. you only hear how softly he can whisper into your ear while testing new toys on you. he likes vibrators, prefers beads or balls or anything that makes you sweat a little. he doesn't bother with dildos, the only dick you're fucking and sucking is his.

speaking of - suguru fucks so mean ; ( hes the worst...

he is good with foreplay but it's like your mind is never prepared for the way he gets you all comfortable just to ruin you after. Suguru can be rough but he likes to wait until you're begging for it, grabbing for his cock with no self control , spreading and raising your legs like you can handle all of what he wants to give you. he fucks deep and hard and you've accumulated these bruises on your ass and hips just from how rough he thrusts into you each time, n' his grip tightening on you - he prefers taking you from behind, whether it be with you on your knees and he pulls your arms behind your back, or on your side, nice and sensual.

he does also really likes making you ride him after he's plowed you to the brink of exhaustion. you' re sweating and babbling and cramping but you are clenching down like your life depends on it. his dick is your lifeline and you're ass must be a fat bruise from how hard his hips collide with yours,

and then he flips onto his back, and all of a sudden you're sitting atop him.

"Fuck yourself on my cock." Getou's huffing, tired - but not tired enough to stop him from smiling.

"W-whaaa?-"

"You're not deaf. You heard me." he moves his hands from your hips and folds his arms behind his head, smirking up at you cruelly. "Go on. Take your time."

⠀⠀⠀⠀⋆｡˚ cutie disconnected!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀....find another? ｡✩ ⋆

#geto suguru #geto smut #geto suguru smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk imagines #suguru geto smut #geto x you #geto #🌩️ L1GHTN1NG_STRIKE5.pdf

395 notes · View notes

cerastes · 2 months

Note

How do you rate the gacha booty shooter?

NIKKE sure is a game! It's the funnest mixed bag I've played lately. As a side game, it's been pretty good, because it's good at what it does good, and not terrible at its weak points, leaving you with a pretty "Ok :)" feeling overall.

So what's up with Nikke? Yeah, let's have a talk about that so I can explain a bit by what I mean with "fun mixed bag".

Nikke's setting is the same old tired, you've seen it a million times: Once day, humanity was almost decimated by a mysterious enemy that came out of nowhere... We call it... The Enemy! They were simply too strong, so humanity had to deploy its strongest weapons: Anime Girls. And you are the lucky Authority Figure that commands the Anime Girls to defeat The Enemy! But... The Enemy and Anime Girls have more in common than it seems...!?

Replace "The Enemy" with "Rapture", "Anime Girl" with "Nikke", Authority Figure with... Technically "Commander" but more on this in a bit, and you've got Nikke. In other words, the game's setting and premise are just a few word swaps away from being Punishing Gray Raven, Snowbreak, and a bunch of other properties. But here's the thing: Whereas Punishing Gray Raven tells you its story with all the charm and pizzazz of a Wikipedia article, and Snowbreak... Uh, stands there staring at a wall Blair Witch style because nothing ever fucking happens in Snowbreak, Nikke actually has good moment to moment flow. Allow me to elaborate.

Read More break here because I wrote a lot more than I intended:

Nikke has probably the dumbest premise to open with: The Nikkes are basically superpowered cyborg girls (war machines with human brains) that look like supermodels on purpose because they were created, in the game's own words, "with the ideal form in mind". That's all a wordy way of saying they are super hot girls with very powerful guns and superhuman physical capabilities. The dumb part is that Nikkes are treated like absolute shit in-universe by humans. You're telling me humanity is making cyborgs -- not even full on robots or AI, these are straight up people getting turned into weapons -- that are hot as fuck and have tits bigger than my head and asses that could crush cars under their sheer heft and then decided to hate them and treat them like shit, and also these cyborgs are the ones actually keeping humanity alive? Well yeah we need a reason for the Main Character (you!) to be Special and bond with them, so your thing is that You Don't Treat Nikkes Like Shit. In fact, you care for them.

Now, this is all absolutely fucking stupid, but then, the game sort of... Realizes how stupid it is? And some may say "this was always the plan" but to me personally it feels like they kinda realized how god damn stupid this all was as a premise, and they started veering the car mid-trip because for a while this all feels REALLY sincere, not in a foreshadowing way, but then you have some developments such as "no yeah, Commanders are a dime a dozen, are brainwashed into seeing Nikkes as walking garbage and that they'll be heroes, risk their lives for pennies and are extremely expendable", and there's also what I consider a really good and consistent thing the game has done: Nikkes were always a desperate last minute rushed product as a concept, so the safety measures in place so that they don't rebel against humans were never perfect.

This is what I mean by the moment to moment being good: The plot is absolutely whatever, the setting is something you've seen a million times, but the actual scene by scene, beat by beat, is fun. On the micro level, the game knows how to be entertaining and interesting, and when they expand these micro nuggets of gold to a macro level of writing, it's when they end up with their best bits of narrative and world building. I want to use two examples about the whole safety measures thing: Crow and Rose.

Crow is a Nikke that hates humans and is part of a squad of known dangerous elements that Missilis, the most irresponsible of the Big Three companies, is responsible for. This squad is Exotic, and Exotic works with you (your squad is named Counters) on this one mid-game chapter. The thing is, they never really intended to work with you, and Crow wanted you dead because Crow wants to spark a Human Vs Nikke conflict in the Ark (humanity's last big home), because you might quell the hostility between both sides. But, Nikkes can't intentionally kill humans (accidents happen and a Nikke may be ordered to subdue a human, but they are hardwired to not be able to shoot at them or kill them). So, how does Crow go about it when she betrays you? She has her squadmate Jackal plant a steel plate on the ground, and then shoots the plate in a way that the bullet ricochets and hits you. NIMPH, what's used to, among many other things, make sure Nikkes can't turn on humans, was so, so easily circumvented, and this is consistent with what we've been told about the Ark and Nikke in universe development in general: It's sloppy, it's lazy, it's not good. Rose, the other example, is a Nikke from a flashback story around a hundred of years before the start of the game. Rose was a prototype Nikke that was geared for melee combat instead of ranged combat, as all Nikkes are, and she was one of ten such units. Basically, Rose realized that their human Commander was intentionally trying to get them killed until one remained, which would be deemed the success of the line in Darwinian fashion. Rose got so immensely, justifiably angry at this that she plotted to kill the Commander. How can she do this, though, with the NIMPH that prevents her from doing so? Well, Rose was an actual swordmaster, and what she did was wear a blindfold, convince herself that what she was slicing was not a human, but a Rapture, and then she easily killed the shit out of him, unimpeded by her system. The NIMPH, end of the day, is sloppily made, highly dependent on the mental state of the Nikke, and easily circumvented. This is a very important plot point throughout the story, and the way they show this in multiple ways is really good.

Another thing I like is how the game goes about the player's title. It's technically "Commander" but the truth is, most every single Nikke calls you a different way relative to your relationship with them or their impression of you. Rapi and Anis some of the few that call you Commander, because they are in fact your subordinates, but Rapi says "Shikikan" while Anis says "Shikikan-sama" in a sarcastic way initially and after a while in an affectionately playful way, Neon calls you "Master" (Shishou) because she likes the way you use firepower, Liter calls you "Greenhorn" because you are, well, that in her eyes, Moran calls you "Partner" (Ototou, "little brother" in Japanese) because she's the head of a crime syndicate and she considers you as a cool person under her protection, the sports inclined ones call you "Coach", the school themed ones "Teacher", Viper, the flirty one, "Honey" or "Darling" depending on the scene, and so on, the old timey Scarlet calls you "My Lord", the religious Rapunzel uses "Believer", and the coarse, rough around the edges Snow White just uses "You" (Omae). It's a great touch that I like when it's done.

So, basically, you have a charming combination of a setting that's been overdone infinite times with plot beats that vary between legitimately good (the NIMPH and its logistics) and legitimately bad (Whatever the fuck Chapter 18 was, to name one case), and moment to moment that's really charming and entertaining.

The gameplay is honestly extremely unbalanced, and the sheer disparity in strength between units of the same rarity makes you wonder if they have anyone in the team that actually cares about balance, but honestly, putting the issues of balance aside? It's fun to point at stuff and shoot a million bullets and rockets, and they even get pretty creative with the fights sometimes in terms of enemy types and how they use them against you, so gameplay balance is awful, gameplay itself is suprisingly good for how simple it is.

I know people are going to be like "Dreamer, You Didn't Even Rate The Asses" so okay here:

First of all, the ergonomically perfect ass of the VIXEN that lured me into the game in a moment of weakness, Scarlet:

And next up, the Clothed But Massive Ass of Snow White

In fact, I appreciate the variety, because if it was just bare cheeks and panty shots, it'd be kinda whatever to me, but bodysuit ass and clothed but noticeably huge ass? Fresh, to be honest.

Also notable is that progress in entirely gated by passive production of resources and daily stuff because there's no stamina system. Bold!

But yeah feel free to ask more specific questions, but this is pretty much how I've felt about it.

#long post #nikke

101 notes · View notes

seraph5 · 11 months

Text

Ignacio “Nacho” Salamanca

When Nacho chooses Lalo he slips back more into his season 1 persona. Back to being more cold-blooded, back to being more sarcastic. He figures in for a penny in for a pound, he's lost his soul already, he might as well burn down everything he was.

There is a part of him when he stares in the mirror that sees his father's son and when Lalo asks him to marry him Nacho wants to cut out that part and bury it in the earth. Bury the part that whispers that Lalo is a different kind of monster from him. True evil while he himself is just a ghost. That's when he decides to embrace everything Salamanca.

His first tattoo is the blue flower on his neck, a reminder that he nearly died for his betrayal of the Salamancas. Then two rattlesnakes biting the flower from either side, he and Lalo eating what might have been the end but instead became a new beginning. A lucky poker chip on his neck. A pill to remind him that drugs built the world in which he lived. Fire running up one arm so that every time he fired a shot it was set alight. Petrol tattooed up the other. Lalo thinks the petrol is fuel for the flames and Nacho does not disabuse him of this idea. In actuality, it is to remind him he will never be clean in this life - never able to expunge his acts. The owl across his ribcage is an agent of Santa Muerte, Lalo's patron saint. He got it the day after Lalo gave him his necklace "for protection" Lalo had whispered against his skin.

Lalo traces the lines of the tattoos, kisses the colours and does not worry about the part Nacho has buried beneath.

Image Description: Nacho Salamanca is sitting on a wooden stool against a wall in Lalo's Hacienda. He's leaning back letting his legs hang wide his right arm casually hanging between them and holding a gun. He is shirtless and shoeless wearing only an expensive pair of navy pinstriped pants. His upper body is covered in the tattoos described above. His face is serious, slightly threatening. Perhaps Lalo is entertaining a cartel don with breakfast while Nacho sits and watches silently, though protectively, off to the side.

#myart #ignacio salamanca #ignacio nacho varga #Ignacio nacho salamanca #nacho salamanca #nacho varga #lalo #lalo x nacho #eduardo lalo salamanca #lalo salamanca #lacho #finally its doneeeeee #my nacho salamanca headcanon #better call saul

187 notes · View notes

undiscovered-horizon · 2 years

Text

Imagine being Maverick's daughter and quickly catching the eye of both Rooster and Hangman, unknowingly starting a cutthroat competition. - SECRET ENDING

▷TOPGUN PLAYLIST

[Part 1] [Rooster's Ending] [Hangman's Ending]

Note: credit goes to @vintagecarsandrecordplayers for the idea

Maverick was pretty insistent on you tagging along for a few beers at The Hard Deck that night. Although you came all the way to spend some time with him, he was convicted it wouldn't be good for you to hang out only with your own father. Maybe the trainee pilots could also do with talking to someone their age but outside of the military.

After their vicious competition during dogfighting, Rooster and Hangman wanted that very evening to settle the score. Neither of them was willing to accept anything but the win - 'second place is the first loser', or so they say.

The bar, aside from people, was filled with the sound of Elton John's Saturday Night's Alright. Looking around the venue, Bradley and Jake finally spotted you in the least expected place imaginable - by the bar with Bob. You were practically glued to the timid pilot, staring at him with excitement and fascination. Hangman was ready to drop kick Bob when he saw him shyly touch your fingers, trying to help you with something. Phoenix was sitting in one of the booths, giving her friend a genuine 'thumbs up' whenever he nervously looked away from you. Together with Penny, the women exchanged giddy looks of happiness.

Then your laughter resonated in their lovesick ears and, looking over your and Bob's shoulders, Rooster and Hangman saw the reason for your alluring radiance - origami llama made from a napkin. It wasn't perfect but still an impressive show of your handiwork.

"You're good at it." Bob's voice was tense, clearly showing just how nervous you made him feel. Despite that, he was doing really well.

"I have a great teacher," you answered with a smile and he swore he was about to get light-headed. "This is so cool." Bob was watching you carefully examine the napkin animal. Even a blind person could see the adoration in Bob's eyes, despite being covered with nervous shyness. He took Phoenix's words to heart, 'impress her with something', and hoped he made the right choice.

"I can make an armadillo too," he offered quickly. Bob was ready to make an entire zoo of origami animals if that meant spending more time with you.

"Really? Damn, where'd you learn all of this?"

Your and Bob's conversation continued and Rooster along with Hangman, but only for a moment, were considering whether this was some elaborate, greatly unfunny, practical joke. It's going to take them some time to realize that while they were busy cockfighting, someone made an actual effort to win your affection.

"What the hell?" Jake said under his breath. It had to be his first time seeing a guy trying to flirt with a girl by teaching her to do origami. What he wasn't willing to admit, however, was that this 'lame game', as he thought to himself, seemed to be working amazingly. "Library-dweller is trying to steal my girl."

"Your girl?" Rooster repeated before erupting with laughter. To Bradley, it was truly humorous that Jake even entertained the thought of you finding him attractive. "She probably doesn't even know your name. Lucky her."

They watched in their own private horror as you put your origami llama in the chest pocket of Bob's uniform. Then you leaned in and swiftly placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, making Floyd's face burn an even brighter shade of red. Suddenly, both of them finally understood why Maverick was so adamant about them steering clear from you.

"I'm gonna go throw up," Jake spat out. He was heading out when Rooster decided to rub his loss in.

"I don't know, man," Bradley said feigning ambivalence. In all honesty, he wasn't any less heartbroken than Hangman. "They're kinda cute together."

"Shut the hell up, Bradshaw." Jake's finger was a mere inch away from Rooster's face. Consumed by his anger, Hangman left The Hard Deck and Bradley would have laughed like has never before if the girl of his dreams didn't just kiss a different man. The only thing that made the whole ordeal a little lighter and less heartbreaking for Rooster, was the fact that Jake was absolutely livid. Maybe he didn't win himself but seeing Hangman lose was enjoyable enough.

697 notes · View notes

writtenjewels · 8 months

Text

Wrong Number part 6

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five

Two days later…

Jason was tasked with keeping his nephew entertained while Penny and her husband set the table for dinner. Penny's cell phone started ringing. She hurried to answer it, managing to get it on the third ring.

“Hello?” She waited, a slight frown on her lips. “Hello, anybody there?” There was a short silence and then she smiled. “Oh, yeah, this was his old phone number. He got a new phone recently.”

Jason glanced up from his spot on the floor. “Who you talkin' to, Penn?”

“Donno; someone askin' for you. I didn't get your name,” she added to the person on the other end. “He says his name's Salim,” she reported.

Jason felt his heart skip a beat. He jumped to his feet and nearly tripped over Troy's action figures in his hurry to grab the phone. Penny had an eyebrow raised in question as she handed the phone over. 'Not an old army buddy, then,' she mouthed to him. Jason shook his head in answer. He wasn't giving her more information than that.

“Hey,” he greeted, quickly turning and walking off so his sister couldn't eavesdrop.

“Another wrong number?” Salim's voice sent a shiver down Jason's spine, even as it was currently light with teasing.

“It was an accident. I just got my new phone a month ago. Gave my sister my old phone.”

“Your sister,” Salim echoed. Jason would swear there was a tone of relief in those two words. His heart beat a little faster. He found the nearest room for privacy, which turned out to be the bathroom, and shut himself inside.

“Yeah, I'm at her place for dinner.”

“That was lucky timing,” Salim remarked. “It's a good thing you're always close by whenever I get a wrong number.”

“Good thing,” Jason agreed with a grin. He let a comfortable silence fill the space before clearing his throat. He had gone out on a limb leaving that phone number in his gift for Salim. Jason thought he sensed sparks flying between them but hadn't been sure. The fact that Salim called him must mean… But Jason didn't want to jump to conclusions yet. “So,” he began.

“Forgive me for not calling you sooner,” Salim apologized. “I was with my son, and then I wasn't sure of your time zone. I made my best guess.”

“It's okay. You still in London? It must be fuckin' midnight for you.”

“I couldn't sleep,” Salim confessed. “Not before I called you.” Jason was very glad that no one could see how hard he was blushing. “It's strange,” Salim went on, “how connected I felt to you after only a few hours.”

“Yeah,” was all Jason could manage in response.

“When we parted, I was a little disappointed by the handshake,” Salim admitted.

“I panicked.” Jason's fingers squeezed the phone a little tighter. “You're the first guy--”

“You don't need to explain,” Salim interrupted. “As much as I wanted to call you the minute I saw your note, a part of me was glad that your flight home would last eight hours. How I felt about you in such a short time… it was new and unexpected. And now you're so far away.”

Jason felt tongue-tied. He wished he could give some sort of answer but he just stood there and listened to Salim's voice.

“You're not the only one who felt something, Jason,” Salim assured him. “And I hope I'm not the only one who's hoping to continue this.”

“You're not,” Jason answered.

“I'm glad.” There was a moment of silence. Jason could almost picture Salim smiling at him. “But first, you need to give me your real phone number.” Jason let out a shaky laugh and reeled off the numbers. Salim reciprocated with his own phone number. “Call me when you're truly alone, habibi.”

“Okay.” Jason felt stupidly giddy again. “I'll call soon.” He hung up, a smile glowing on his face as he exited the bathroom.

Funny how some wrong numbers could lead him to the most right he ever felt.

#jason/salim #jason x salim #jason kolchek x salim othman #jalim #salim othman #jason kolchek #house of ashes

41 notes · View notes

lvcky0ne · 6 months

Text

｡:°ஐ i. the group!

LUCKY is a 4 member fictional co-ed group under the lucky one, a subsidiary of rainbow entertainment. the group consists of sunnie, angel, hiro, and han, but each comeback could range from just 1 to all 4 members of the group and in between.

LUCKY entered the scene with immediate recognition for their unique concept and for pushing boundaries in the industry with FRESH. though the beginning of their career was riddled with controversy, they have amassed a cult following of loyal fans along with the notoriety to produce a viral comeback each time.

profiles. discography. development. aesthetic. stories.

｡:°ஐ ii. the dossier!

✧. group name : LUCKY ( 러키 )

✧. label : RAINBOW Entertainment

✧. debut : 141007 ; luck out ( FRESH )

✧. fandom name : 4luv ( 사랑 )

4 is often considered an unlucky number, but with your love, 4 becomes lucky! also called 사랑이 (salang-ie) in korean due to 사 (four) in the word 사랑 (love).

✧. greeting : "lucky you! hello, we are lucky!"

｡:°ஐ iii. the members!

✧. park " sunnie " ilsu ( leader, lead vocalist. 1994 )

✧. kim " angel " kangdae ( main rapper. 1995 )

✧. minami hiro ( main dancer, lead rapper. 1995 )

✧. choi " han " haneul ( maknae, main vocalist. 1996 )

｡:°ஐ iv. the discography!

luck out ✧. FRESH ( 141007 )

lucky devil ✧. don't touch me ( 150314 )

lucky one ✧. danger ( 150822 )

lucky stars ✧. so beautiful ( 151130 )

luck in love ✧. MINE ( 160208 )

fortuna ✧. gashina ( 160715 )

lucky break ✧. loose ( 161202 )

strike it lucky ✧. BURN ( 170407 )

lucky penny ✧. lip/hip ( 170623 )

lady luck ✧. noir ( 171014 )

lucky charm ✧. don't stop ( 180309 )

777 ✧. NEW WAVE ( 180910 )

candy ✧. candy ( 190104 )

luck of the draw ✧. any song ( 190524 )

four leaf ✧. WE GO ( 191108 )

nine lives ✧. like crazy ( 200413 )

naughty ✧. naughty ( 200805 )

blue moon ✧. WEREWOLF ( 201216 )

feeling lucky ✧. feel so ( 210212 )

place your bets ✧. ping-pong ( 210617 )

11:11 ✧. my way ( 211006 )

lucky shot ✧. BLEEDING LOVE ( 220419 )

lucky dog ✧. rover ( 221005 )

maneki-neko ✧. tokyo 4am ( 230123 )

icky ✧. icky ( 230531 )

｡:°ஐ penned by love!

#lucky you ! ｡:°ஐ pinned ✧.#lucky you ! ｡:°ஐ profile ✧.#fictional kpop community #fictional kpop group #fictional kpop idol #kpop idol oc #oc kpop group #oc kpop idol

15 notes · View notes

tgammsideblog · 8 months

Text

Tgamm S1 Ep 17-B ¨Lock, Stock and Peril¨ Episode analysis

When Pete, Sharon and Darryl accidentally get trapped inside the basement, it is up to Molly and Scratch to rescue them. But can the duo find Weird Larry to help them without getting distracted?

Much like its sister segment, ¨The Lucky Penny¨, ¨Lock, Stock and Peril¨ is a simple story with some ridiculous shenanigans happening. Unlike ¨The Lucky Penny¨, the Mcgee family is the focus in this episode, with Molly and Scratch taking the A plot and Pete, Darryl and Sharon carrying the B plot.

The A plot itself is very chill, with Molly and Scratch getting distracted by different type of things, most of them being in character (Scratch eating food, Molly wishing to see an unicorn that turns to be a horse). It's adorable seeing hanging out in the city and having a sibling like dynamic. There are some cute scenes of the two imitating each other's poses or reactions, showing how much they are used to each other's company.

We get to see a bit of Brighton's daily life. It's often enjoyable to watch the different people that live in the city and Molly and Scratch interacting with them. For example there is an scene the duo stops to get lemonade for a kid, who takes too much time to squish the lemon and make the drink. It's both a cute and funny moment from background character that otherwise wouldn't have a role in other episodes. What's more Weird Larry has some importance in this episode as the duo spends most of the story trying to catch up to him and ask for his help. It's a good way to use a character that was explored in a previous episode (The Internship) and let him have a role in here.

For plot B it involves Pete, Sharon and Darryl losing themselves and starting a ¨mini war¨ inside the basement while they wait for Molly and Scratch to come back. I love how they start to have their own factions and the whole situation becomes more and more ridiculous the more time they spend trapped inside the room. While Plot A is good, i would argue that B plot is way funnier because of how exaggerated the reactions of the Mcgee family are.

The song sequence when Scratch posesses Larry in his motorcycle and the duo tries to not get distracted is pretty good as well. The visuals gags are hilarious, like a posessed Larry dancing with doll like moves. The neon visuals used in the sequence are pretty eye catching, showing all things Molly and Scratch try to avoid.

If there is one issue i have with the episode is that i find rather out of character for Molly to get so easily distracted. It does makes sense for someone like Scratch, but it isn't so believable when it comes to Molly. At least the things that make her lose focus are in character like the ¨unicorn¨ exhibition and asking lemonade to help the kid with a cause. However, as a ¨flaw¨ itself it feels a bit out of place.

The conclusion to the story is kind of cute and funny. The Mcgees make up for getting carried away while being trapped inside the basement and Molly and Scratch getting in trouble for taking so much time to return.

In conclusion: ¨Lock, Stock and Peril¨ is a good Mcgee family episode with some hilarious moments and nice character interactions, specially with Molly and Scratch. It doesn't have any important development nor lesson, but it is worth of watching because of its humor and entertainment value.

#the ghost and molly mcgee #tgamm #tgamm season 1 #tgamm analysis #Lock stock and peril tgamm #molly mcgee #scratch mcgee #pete mcgee #sharon mcgee #darryl mcgee

20 notes · View notes

princessmisery666 · 2 years

Text

Lucky - Part 5.9 Under The Radar Mini Series (end)

Summary: It’s Maverick’s retirement and the gangs all back together, and it makes Jake realize just how lucky he is to have you.

Warnings: fluff, pure fluff.

W/C: 1.4k

Characters: Lieutenant Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Lieutenant Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, fem!reader (You. Call sign: Huntress). Mentioned/Small Parts: Lieutenant Natasha "Phoenix" Trace, Penny Benjamin, Lieutenant Javy "Coyote" Machado, Captain Phil “Maverick” Mitchell, Lieutenant Robert "Bob" Floyd, Lieutenant Reuben "Payback" Fitch, Lieutenant Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia.

Pairing: Hangman x Fem!Reader, (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

A/N: You can thank @justagirlinafandomworld for this whole part, I knew how I wanted it to end but couldn’t figure out the logistics of it, then Yvette reblogged this with the awesome tags and it got the muses flowing.

Betas: @deanwinchesterswitch

Graphics: made by me // @writercole made the dividers. Pic credit

Series Master Lists: Parts 1 -5 // Drabbles & one-shots

Special shoutout: This is the end, so one last time a massive thank you to @sfreeborn for giving the initial prompt that was the first spark to ignite this inferno, @writercole this would not have been possible without you, @deanwinchesterswitch for being a wonderful beta and fitting me into your busy schedule 😍 without further ado…

Lucky

Jake went home for a few days to see his parents. Since he’s been back, he’s been acting strange - a little jumpy, on edge, like he’s waiting for something to happen. His father didn’t outright disapprove of his decision to stick around Top Gun because of you, but he didn’t show any support either. You assume the strange behavior is residual stress from spending time with his father. You thought he would shake it off in a couple of days.

Only he’s been back for almost a week and has been overly attached to his leather aviator jacket. It’s Jake’s lucky jacket. You know it is; he’s told you the stories. It holds sentimental value and, bonus points, he looks smoking hot in it. His words, not yours, though you readily agree. But he’s worn it everywhere, doesn’t take it off unless you're at home, it’s as if it’s a life jacket, and he expects removing it will suddenly make him drown.

You’ve watched him tuck it away in the closet each night for the past four days, patting it down as if checking for something or he’s suddenly developed an OCD tick. It’s no surprise that he wears it to the Hard Deck to celebrate Maverick’s retirement.

And yes, he looks obscenely hot in it, with a simple gray henley underneath, but he also looks extremely hot in the crowded bar. You had already suggested he take it off, and though Penny is taking the night off, she offered to put it in the back, so no one steals or spills anything on it.

“It’s fine,” he smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, and he looks nervous. “I’m fine,” he assures you when you give him a pointed look. He places a kiss in your hair and insists he’s good, pulling you closer to him to allow some other patrons to pass.

The Hard Deck gets a little too crowded, so the party moves outside onto the beach as the sun sets. Which Hangman is thankful for because he swears he’s about to burst into flames from overheating. The breeze off the ocean cools him down to a comfortable level again.

Rooster and Fanboy are being idiots, starting a wrestling match, and it’s only a matter of minutes before one of them takes it too far. You, Jake, Phoenix, Bob, Coyote, Maverick, Penny, Hondu, and Payback create a semi-circle to block them from falling into the fire pit and encourage them, hedging bets as to who will end up on their ass first.

Jake remains quiet. He just watches, sipping his beer, not rooting for either of them. His mind is too occupied, and whereas watching either Rooster or Fanboy get a faceful of sand would have entertained him before, he’s got too much going on to fully enjoy it.

He sees you check your watch and give him a concerned half-smile. “You okay?” you ask quietly.

“Perfect,” he says, slipping an arm around your waist and pulling you under his shoulder. It’s only partly a lie, he’s nervous and stressed, but he can’t tell you that without making you question him further.

As the wrestling steps up a notch, you straighten up and yell with a gleeful smile, “Get him, Fanboy, get him!”

Fanboy makes a grab for Rooster’s leg, who hops back out of reach but loses his balance, twisting to catch himself on your shoulders, knocking your glass of red wine all over your white shirt.

The shock makes you gasp, and as the liquid soaks in, Rooster remains pressed against you, too worried to step back to assess the damage.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, clearly trying to suppress his laughter.

“Oh,” you laugh, shaking your head, “you’re so paying for the dry cleaning.”

Rooster slowly peels himself away from you, and his yellow Hawaiian print shirt has a small patch of red, whereas your shirt is now pink. You pull the wet garment away from your skin.

“Jake, baby, give me your shirt,” you coo, batting your eyelashes at him.

He moves on autopilot, handing his beer to Coyote, slipping off his jacket, and trapping it between his knees to save it from the sand. He slips the jacket back over his shoulders, handing you his shirt, and he doesn’t fully process what you’ve asked him to do until he watches you whip off your shirt and replace it with his Henley.

You toss your ruined shirt at Rooster. “Dry cleaned,” you demand, “before you leave.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Rooster salutes.

“How come all she has to do is ask, and she gets whatever she wants?” Payback teases.

Jake’s too busy staring at you in his Henley to realize the question is meant for him till Payback barks his name.

“What’re you talking about?” Jake retorts, reluctantly pulling his gaze from you to look at the other pilot over the top of the fire.

“Dude, for the last few days we’ve all been here, it’s been ‘Jake get me a beer’ and ‘Jake give me your shirt’, and you haven’t batted an eye,” Fanboy adds, the rest of the team muttering in agreement.

“It’s not just the last few days,” Coyote adds, laughing. “It’s months, man. He bought her a house, lets her drive his car, and didn’t even raise his voice when she scuffed his alloys.”

“Shut up,” you chuckle, pointing a finger at Coyote. He’s already teased Jake about this particular subject to no end.

“Awww, and now you’re standing up for him,” Coyote jests with a smirk, “damn, he’s pussy whipped if he needs you to fight his battles.”

“He doesn’t need me to do anything,” you counter.

The old Hangman’s cockiness comes into play, and he smirks, “I can’t help it if I know how to keep my woman happy.”

Fanboy, Rooster, and Payback fake cough, “pussy whipped!”

“At least he’s got someone,” Bob snaps, “I don’t see anyone lining up to ride you three.”

The team is in shock for seconds before the chorus of contagious laughter starts filling the air with a litany of voices.

The laughter continues while the teasing switches to Bob and Jake watches you - bathed in the light of the bonfire, your head tipped back, eyes crinkled at the corners sparkling with genuine laughter, wearing his shirt. You’ve never looked so beautiful. It’s enchanting, and not for the first time, he wonders how he got so lucky.

You must feel his eyes on you because you turn to face him, and just as your expression softens, he finds the words he’s been struggling with for days.

“Marry me,” he blurts out, perhaps a little too loud to make sure you can hear him over Bob’s ribbing.

Everyone freezes and the laughter cuts off. Your mouth hangs open slightly, and he can see your chest rising and falling rapidly.

He quickly digs in his jacket pocket, pulling out a simple, elegant diamond ring and dropping to one knee in the sand. “Marry me?” he repeats as a question this time. Your shocked silence prevails, and he rambles, “I didn’t go home last week; I went to your parents to ask your dad for permission. I’ve been wearing this jacket for days now, my grandfather wore it to propose to my grandmother, and my dad wore it to ask my mom, and I’ve just been waiting for the right moment, but I swear I’m close to dying from heat exhaustion and I don’t want to wait any longer.”

“Jake,” you sigh, but emotion catches in your throat, tears pool in your eyes, and you're speechless again.

He’s not sure if they are tears of joy, pure shock, or pity, but regardless he’s not done talking. “You're it for me, Y/N. I’ve known it from the moment you broke my nose on this very beach. I love you, Y/N Y/L/N, and I want to start our future together. But I can wait if you're not ready, I will wait. So if it's a no, I’m fine with that, but I'm really hoping it's a yes. Will you marry me?”

He holds his breath, feeling every set of eyes on him, and for once, it’s attention he doesn’t want. The edges of his vision seem to blackout, and all he sees is you, firelight dancing on your cheek, making your tear tracks glow.

Quicker than he can blink, you launch yourself at him. He doesn’t expect it, so when you crash into him, he ends up flat on his back, with you lying on top of him, kissing him, hard and passionately.

“Is that a yes?” Bob whispers to Phoenix.

But it’s Rooster who happily replies, “I'm pretty sure that's a hell yes.”

I'm so sad to say goodbye to these guys 🥺😭 but I hope you enjoyed it, thank you for the support.

There is a flangsty Rooster fic in the making 😍😍😍

Master Lists: Main // Under The Radar - Parts 1 -5 // Drabbles & one-shots

#top gun maverick #jake seresin #hangman #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #hangman x you #fluff #so much fluff #TGM #rooster #phoenix #bob #coyote #fanboy #payback #maverick #penny benjamin

166 notes · View notes

nite-puff · 7 months

Note

AUWAAHH SWEET TUNE,, I LOVE HER,,,

Hmmhmmm,, I’m very curious about the little clown fella (Jupiter) and Hurricane! Anything u can share about them?

WHY ARE YOU LITERALLY BEING THE BEST RIGHT NOW??!?????!?!!! letting me talk about my silly little guys.

okay, Jupiter!

(you’re right, they are a clown. not literally, they’re just a goober).

Jupiter has a fun predicament when it comes to their ultimate, because they technically share one. They and their brother, Wind Chime, are both considered the Ultimate Illusionist. Because it takes both of them for their tricks to work and for their shows to be successful. You simply just can’t call one of them the ultimate in their field.

While Wind Chime is more on the technical side of the process, working with utmost precision to make sure tricks work, Jupiter is a much more natural entertainer. (But that doesn’t mean they’re not good at the illusions themselves. They’re still talent there, don’t you forget it.) They live to make people have a good time. They can even be so determine to make that happen, that they can come across as a little annoying to certain people.

But they’re just silly, and they stay silly.

It’s also because of this that they get a majority of the attention from audiences and fans. People just find them more presentable and friendly. They try their best to steer some of the attention toward their brother, for his sake as well as theirs. Being surrounded by that many people all the time is bound to weigh down on someone. But they can’t complain. And they won’t complain. Ever.

But maybe some isolation in the academy and away from the crowds will do them some good.

And now Hurricane…. I’m going to try my best to explain his character without spoiling anything. He’s very much tied to the plot, if that already isn’t giving away anything.

To explain him, I have to delve into his dynamic with his brother, Aviator. (how lucky that you indirectly asked for two out of three of my sibling pairs).

And I think I can do that by saying that Hurricane’s the Ultimate Actor and Aviator’s the Ultimate Playwright. It just writes itself.

They have a pretty “Hollywood-dream” type of upbringing. To down on their luck kids without a penny to their names move to a big city in hopes of getting a job. A lot of hard work and even more luck later and they become one of the most well known writer/actor duos in their country.

Actually a big thing they debate (fight) amongst themselves about is who made the other famous. Did Aviator give Hurricane his big break with his writing, or did Hurricane give Aviator his big break with his acting? The world may never known because they’re both just so talented in their respective fields. A little too talented

Now, to zero in on Hurricane a little. He kind of grew up into a little bit of a diva, but a nice one, from what the people hear. People insist that he actually has a big heart under all the glitz and glam. He has to have one if how he acts during press interviews and just in the general public is indicative of anything.

People also tend to like him because he’s pretty and charming. He’s just so nice you guys, believe me. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with him. He’s even going to a prestigious academy under the title of the Ultimate Actor. How cool is that?

Wonder how that killing game treats him?

#Hurricane is literally one of the hardest to explain #shit happens with him believe me guys. I just don’t know when to share that part #also cheri you gotta stop being so nice I can’t take it!!!!! <3 #danganronpa #danganronpa ocs #fanganronpa #dr:o #ramblepuff #askpuff

13 notes · View notes

istumpysk · 2 years

Text

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

AFFC: Prologue

Please welcome our new POV, Pate. He's a novice at the Citadel.

"Dragons," said Mollander. He snatched a withered apple off the ground and tossed it hand to hand.

"Throw the apple," urged Alleras the Sphinx. He slipped an arrow from his quiver and nocked it to his bowstring.

"I should like to see a dragon." Roone was the youngest of them, a chunky boy still two years shy of manhood. "I should like that very much."

Okay. Alright.

The first few lines of this book feature dragons, and a sand snake shooting arrows.

We're off to a good start!

+.+.+

He could hear Emma's laughter coming through a shuttered window overhead, mingled with the deeper voice of the man she was entertaining. She was the oldest of the serving wenches at the Quill and Tankard, forty if she was a day, but still pretty in a fleshy sort of way. Rosey was her daughter, fifteen and freshly flowered. Emma had decreed that Rosey's maidenhead would cost a golden dragon. Pate had saved nine silver stags and a pot of copper stars and pennies, for all the good that would do him.

This is awful, but nothing new. Even highborn girls have a Bride Price.

+.+.+

"Throw the apple," Alleras urged again. He was a comely youth, their Sphinx. All the serving wenches doted on him. Even Rosey would sometimes touch him on the arm when she brought him wine, and Pate had to gnash his teeth and pretend not to see.

In case you're unaware, Alleras is actually Sarella Sand, Oberyn's daughter.

It's not clear if she's pursuing personal development, or if something else is going on.

Unless she returns to Dorne, there's naught I can do about Sarella save pray that she shows more sense than her sisters. Leave her to her . . . game. - The Captain of the Guards, AFFC

Dot, dot, dot.

+.+.+

Far and fast the apple flew . . .

. . . but not as fast as the arrow that whistled after it, a yard-long shaft of golden wood fletched with scarlet feathers. Pate did not see the arrow catch the apple, but he heard it. A soft chunk echoed back across the river, followed by a splash.

Mollander whistled. "You cored it. Sweet."

Excellent shot!

+.+.+

It would not have been the first time that good fortune had turned sour on Pate. He had once counted himself lucky to be chosen to help old Archmaester Walgrave with the ravens, never dreaming that before long he would also be fetching the man's meals, sweeping out his chambers, and dressing him every morning. Everyone said that Walgrave had forgotten more of ravencraft than most maesters ever knew, so Pate assumed a black iron link was the least that he could hope for, only to find that Walgrave could not grant him one. The old man remained an archmaester only by courtesy. As great a maester as once he'd been, now his robes concealed soiled smallclothes oft as not, and half a year ago some acolytes found him weeping in the Library, unable to find his way back to his chambers.

Please don't say you're unlucky, not enough time has passed since Merrett Frey.

Pate is Bizarro Jon. The little optimist gets chosen as a personal helper and assumes he's about to climb the ladder.

The little pessimist was the opposite.

"And what will my duties be?" Jon asked sharply. "Will I serve the Lord Commander's meals, help him fasten his clothes, fetch hot water for his bath?" - Jon VI, AGOT.

+.+.+

In the apple tree beside the water, a nightingale began to sing. It was a sweet sound, a welcome respite from the harsh screams and endless quorking of the ravens he had tended all day long. The white ravens knew his name, and would mutter it to each other whenever they caught sight of him, "Pate, Pate, Pate," until he wanted to scream.

Look, the white bird calls his name! Bizarro Jon! Insert joke about trading dragon for maiden girl here.

This chapter is all birds and apples, and I'm lost.

+.+.+

Perhaps it was the fearsomely strong cider—he had not come here to drink, but Alleras had been buying to celebrate his copper link, and guilt had made him thirsty—but it almost sounded as if the nightingale were trilling gold for iron, gold for iron, gold for iron. Which was passing strange, because that was what the stranger had said the night Rosey brought the two of them together. "Who are you?" Pate had demanded of him, and the man had replied, "An alchemist. I can change iron into gold."

To go along with all the apples, 'fearsomely strong cider' is used roughly 87 times. Sure, whatever.

Long story short, Pate needs money to be with Rosey, and out of the blue a stranger (the alchemist) shows up offering money in exchange for something in the Citadel.

Twice in this chapter we'll be told Rosey brought them together.

The coin appeared. The alchemist made it walk across his knuckles, the way he had when Rosey brought the two of them together.

I don't know what to make of that. Maybe she's working with the alchemist, or maybe she fancies Pate and would like to see him get that coin?

Pate loved her hazel eyes and budding breasts, and the way she smiled every time she saw him. He loved the dimples in her cheeks. Sometimes she went barefoot as she served, to feel the grass beneath her feet. He loved that too. He loved the clean fresh smell of her, the way her hair curled behind her ears. He even loved her toes. One night she'd let him rub her feet and play with them, and he'd made up a funny tale for every toe to keep her giggling.

+.+.+

The Quill and Tankard never closed. For six hundred years it had been standing on its island in the Honeywine, and never once had its doors been shut to trade. Though the tall, timbered building leaned toward the south the way novices sometimes leaned after a tankard, Pate expected that the inn would go on standing for another six hundred years, selling wine and ale and fearsomely strong cider to rivermen and seamen, smiths and singers, priests and princes, and the novices and acolytes of the Citadel.

Rest in peace, The Quill and Tankard.

Daddy's coming.

+.+.+

Even in Oldtown, far from the fighting and safe behind its walls, the War of the Five Kings had touched them all . . . although Archmaester Benedict insisted that there had never been a war of five kings, since Renly Baratheon had been slain before Balon Greyjoy had crowned himself.

Archmaester Pedant.

I have no desire to return to that HotU chapter, but I will say I'm starting to question whether those four dwarfs molesting the beautiful woman are meant to represent the War of the Five Kings.

It's recently come to my attention that Tyrion and Daenerys like to metaphorically sex.

+.+.+

One sailor with a story, aye, a man might laugh at that, but when oarsmen off four different ships tell the same tale in four different tongues . . ."

"The tales are not the same," insisted Armen. "Dragons in Asshai, dragons in Qarth, dragons in Meereen, Dothraki dragons, dragons freeing slaves . . . each telling differs from the last."

All of these are true, except Asshai. Weird.

He lifted his eyes and saw clear across the narrow sea, to the Free Cities and the green Dothraki sea and beyond, to Vaes Dothrak under its mountain, to the fabled lands of the Jade Sea, to Asshai by the Shadow, where dragons stirred beneath the sunrise. - Bran III, AGOT

+.+.+

"There's another apple near your foot," Alleras called to Mollander, "and I still have two arrows in my quiver."

SHE HAS THREE ARROWS.

+.+.+

"Fuck your quiver." Mollander scooped up the windfall. "This one's wormy," he complained, but he threw it anyway. The arrow caught the apple as it began to fall and sliced it clean in two. One half landed on a turret roof, tumbled to a lower roof, bounced, and missed Armen by a foot. "If you cut a worm in two, you make two worms," the acolyte informed them.

Uh, help?

+.+.+

"One last apple," promised Alleras, "and I will tell you what I suspect about these dragons."

[...]

Alleras threw a leg across the bench and reached for his wine cup. "The dragon has three heads," he announced in his soft Dornish drawl.

Thanks for that information? Lol.

Is she suggesting three have been hatched? Correct.

Is she suggesting there's three Targaryens? Incorrect.

I count five. At minimum, there's four.

+.+.+

"No dragon has ever had three heads except on shields and banners," Armen the Acolyte said firmly. "That was a heraldic charge, no more. Furthermore, the Targaryens are all dead."

"Not all," said Alleras. "The Beggar King had a sister."

"I thought her head was smashed against a wall," said Roone.

"No," said Alleras. "It was Prince Rhaegar's young son Aegon whose head was dashed against the wall by the Lion of Lannister's brave men. We speak of Rhaegar's sister, born on Dragonstone before its fall. The one they called Daenerys."

"The Stormborn. I recall her now." Mollander lifted his tankard high, sloshing the cider that remained.

Yes, we definitely need clarity on who was unidentifiable.

Imagine being known as The Stormborn.

+.+.+

Leo turned to Alleras. "A lord's son should be open-handed, Sphinx. I understand you won your copper link. I'll drink to that."

Alleras smiled back at him. "I only buy for friends. And I am no lord's son, I've told you that. My mother was a trader."

Leo's eyes were hazel, bright with wine and malice. "Your mother was a monkey from the Summer Isles. The Dornish will fuck anything with a hole between its legs. Meaning no offense. You may be brown as a nut, but at least you bathe. Unlike our spotted pig boy." He waved a hand toward Pate.

Alleras speaks no lies.

If you're wondering who this piece of garbage is, it's Leo Tyrell, cousin of Mace Tyrell.

My goodness, those Tyrells.

+.+.+

If I hit him in the mouth with my tankard, I could knock out half his teeth, Pate thought. Spotted Pate the pig boy was the hero of a thousand ribald stories: a good-hearted, empty-headed lout who always managed to best the fat lordlings, haughty knights, and pompous septons who beset him. Somehow his stupidity would turn out to have been a sort of uncouth cunning; the tales always ended with Spotted Pate sitting on a lord's high seat or bedding some knight's daughter. But those were stories. In the real world pig boys never fared so well. Pate sometimes thought his mother must have hated him to have named him as she did.

I'm not so sure about that, Pate.

"It would seem they have run short of poachers and thieves down south. Now they send us pigs to man the Wall. Is fur and velvet your notion of armor, my Lord of Ham?" - Jon IV, AGOT

+.+.+

The tiles turned against me at the Checkered Hazard, and I wasted my last stag on supper. Suckling pig in plum sauce, stuffed with chestnuts and white truffles.

Pate, I'm a little worried about ya, bud.

+.+.+

Every man off every ship that's sailed within a hundred leagues of Qarth is speaking of these dragons. A few will even tell you that they've seen them. The Mage is inclined to believe them."

Armen pursed his lips in disapproval. "Marwyn is unsound. Archmaester Perestan would be the first to tell you that."

[...]

The Mage was not like other maesters. People said that he kept company with whores and hedge wizards, talked with hairy Ibbenese and pitch-black Summer Islanders in their own tongues, and sacrificed to queer gods at the little sailors' temples down by the wharves. Men spoke of seeing him down in the undercity, in rat pits and black brothels, consorting with mummers, singers, sellswords, even beggars. Some even whispered that once he had killed a man with his fists.

When Marwyn had returned to Oldtown, after spending eight years in the east mapping distant lands, searching for lost books, and studying with warlocks and shadowbinders, Vinegar Vaellyn had dubbed him "Marwyn the Mage."

Marwyn!

Look, Daenerys is getting her very own Qyburn.

+.+.+

"Archmaester Marwyn believes in many curious things," he said, "but he has no more proof of dragons than Mollander. Just more sailors' stories."

"You're wrong," said Leo. "There is a glass candle burning in the Mage's chambers."

[...]

Pate knew about the glass candles, though he had never seen one burn. They were the worst-kept secret of the Citadel. It was said that they had been brought to Oldtown from Valyria a thousand years before the Doom. He had heard there were four; one was green and three were black, and all were tall and twisted.

[...]

Armen the Acolyte cleared his throat. "The night before an acolyte says his vows, he must stand a vigil in the vault. No lantern is permitted him, no torch, no lamp, no taper . . . only a candle of obsidian. He must spend the night in darkness, unless he can light that candle. Some will try. The foolish and the stubborn, those who have made a study of these so-called higher mysteries.

[...]

"It is a lesson," Armen said, "the last lesson we must learn before we don our maester's chains. The glass candle is meant to represent truth and learning, rare and beautiful and fragile things. It is made in the shape of a candle to remind us that a maester must cast light wherever he serves, and it is sharp to remind us that knowledge can be dangerous. Wise men may grow arrogant in their wisdom, but a maester must always remain humble. The glass candle reminds us of that as well. Even after he has said his vow and donned his chain and gone forth to serve, a maester will think back on the darkness of his vigil and remember how nothing that he did could make the candle burn . . . for even with knowledge, some things are not possible."

It's mandatory I include the glass candle stuff, but I have little to say about it.

Three black, one green? No thoughts on that.

+.+.+

Archmaester Walgrave had no trouble telling one raven from another, but he was not so good with people. Some days he seemed to think Pate was someone named Cressen.

Pate, I'm a little worried about ya, bud.

+.+.+

"Careful," Pate heard Armen say as the river mists swallowed up the four of them, "the night is damp, and the cobbles will be slippery."

Lol, I love when George mocks Melisandre.

That line will prove to be relevant later.

+.+.+

Leo needed no reply. "I expect that once I've broken in the wench [Rosey], her price will fall to where even pig boys will be able to afford her. You ought to thank me."

I ought to kill you, Pate thought, but he was not near drunk enough to throw away his life. Leo had been trained to arms, and was known to be deadly with bravo's blade and dagger. And if Pate should somehow kill him, it would mean his own head too. Leo had two names where Pate had only one, and his second was Tyrell. Ser Moryn Tyrell, commander of the City Watch of Oldtown, was Leo's father. Mace Tyrell, Lord of Highgarden and Warden of the South, was Leo's cousin. And Oldtown's Old Man, Lord Leyton of the Hightower, who numbered "Protector of the Citadel" amongst his many titles, was a sworn bannerman of House Tyrell. Let it go, Pate told himself. He says these things just to wound me.

Bravo's blade and dagger? I'd like the hear more about that.

I'm pretty sure Leo Tyrell is close to Samwell's age, making what I'm about to say impossible, but I feel like sharing the tinfoil anyway:

Her name is Rosey, her mother is a prostitute, and both Rosey and Leo are described as having hazel eyes.

There exists at least a small possibility this dude is joking about sleeping with his own daughter. Or maybe not daughter, but still Tyrell blood.

+.+.+

When the first shaft of sunlight broke through the clouds to the east, morning bells began to peal from the Sailor's Sept down by the harbor. The Lord's Sept joined in a moment later, then the Seven Shrines from their gardens across the Honeywine, and finally the Starry Sept that had been the seat of the High Septon for a thousand years before Aegon landed at King's Landing. They made a mighty music. Though not so sweet as one small nightingale.

That's a lot of ringing bells.

+.+.+

And beyond, where the Honeywine widened into Whispering Sound, rose the Hightower, its beacon fires bright against the dawn. From where it stood atop the bluffs of Battle Island, its shadow cut the city like a sword. Those born and raised in Oldtown could tell the time of day by where that shadow fell. Some claimed a man could see all the way to the Wall from the top. Perhaps that was why Lord Leyton had not made the descent in more than a decade, preferring to rule his city from the clouds.

This is how I envision Leyton Hightower:

Some claimed a man could see all the way to the Wall from the top.

Because of that one line, people believe Leyton Hightower has a glass candle.

"What feeds a dragon's fire?" Marwyn seated himself upon a stool. "All Valyrian sorcery was rooted in blood or fire. The sorcerers of the Freehold could see across mountains, seas, and deserts with one of these glass candles. They could enter a man's dreams and give him visions, and speak to one another half a world apart, seated before their candles. Do you think that might be useful, Slayer?" - Samwell V, AFFC

That seems like a bit of a reach to me, but what do I know.

+.+.+

A butcher's cart rumbled past Pate down the river road, five piglets in the back squealing in distress.

Pate, I'm a little worried about ya, bud.

+.+.+

He was on one knee, trying to wipe the mud off his robes, when a voice said, "Good morrow, Pate."

The alchemist was standing over him.

[...]

"Have you decided what you are?"

Must he make me say it? "I suppose I am a thief."

"I thought you might be."

The hardest part had been getting down on his hands and knees to pull the strongbox from underneath Archmaester Walgrave's bed. Though the box was stoutly made and bound with iron, its lock was broken. Maester Gormon had suspected Pate of breaking it, but that wasn't true. Walgrave had broken the lock himself, after losing the key that opened it.

Inside, Pate had found a bag of silver stags, a lock of yellow hair tied up in a ribbon, a painted miniature of a woman who resembled Walgrave (even to her mustache), and a knight's gauntlet made of lobstered steel. The gauntlet had belonged to a prince, Walgrave claimed, though he could no longer seem to recall which one. When Pate shook it, the key fell out onto the floor.

Is that miniature woman a Florent?

This feels like bait. Should I care about these items? I'm going to say no.

+.+.+

If I pick that up, I am a thief, he remembered thinking. The key was old and heavy, made of black iron; supposedly it opened every door at the Citadel. Only the archmaesters had such keys.

The alchemist wants entry into every room! What could he want? Yay, a mystery.

+.+.+

"I want my dragon."

"To be sure." The coin appeared.

[...]

Pate grabbed it from his hand. The gold felt warm against his palm. He brought it to his mouth and bit down on it the way he'd seen men do. If truth be told, he wasn't sure what gold should taste like, but he did not want to look a fool.

Oops.

The old man would count it out carefully, sorting the coins and stacking them up neatly, like with like. He never looked at the coins. Instead he bit them, always on the left side of his mouth, where he still had all his teeth.

[...]

The kindly man understood. "And with that coin and the others in his purse, he paid a certain man. Soon after that man's heart gave out. Is that the way of it? Very sad." The priest picked up the coin and tossed it into the pool. "You have much and more to learn, but it may be you are not hopeless." - The Ugly Little Girl, ADWD

+.+.+

"The key?" the alchemist inquired politely.

Something made Pate hesitate. "Is it some book you want?" Some of the old Valyrian scrolls down in the locked vaults were said to be the only surviving copies in the world.

"What I want is none of your concern."

Many have speculated the alchemist might be looking for the following:

Ten years ago, Tyrion had read a fragment of Unnatural History that had eluded the Blessed Baelor, but he doubted that any of Barth's work had found its way across the narrow sea. And of course there was even less chance of his coming on the fragmentary, anonymous, blood-soaked tome sometimes called Blood and Fire and sometimes The Death of Dragons, the only surviving copy of which was supposedly hidden away in a locked vault beneath the Citadel. - Tyrion IV, ASOS

Anyone searching for a book about the death of dragons is A-OK in my books.

+.+.+

"Show me your face."

"As you wish." The alchemist pulled his hood down.

He was just a man, and his face was just a face. A young man's face, ordinary, with full cheeks and the shadow of a beard. A scar showed faintly on his right cheek. He had a hooked nose, and a mat of dense black hair that curled tightly around his ears. It was not a face Pate recognized. "I do not know you."

"Nor I you."

"Who are you?"

"A stranger. No one. Truly."

Pate, you don't know him! Pate!

"I know this man," she did hear a priest with the face of a plague victim say. "I know this man," the fat fellow echoed, as she was pouring for him. But the handsome man said, "I will give this man the gift, I know him not." Later the squinter said the same thing, of someone else. - The Ugly Little Girl, ADWD

Boy, that alchemist sure sounds familiar.

"I do. My time is done." Jaqen passed a hand down his face from forehead to chin, and where it went he changed. His cheeks grew fuller, his eyes closer; his nose hooked, a scar appeared on his right cheek where no scar had been before. And when he shook his head, his long straight hair, half red and half white, dissolved away to reveal a cap of tight black curls. - Arya IX, ACOK

+.+.+

He was halfway down the alley when the cobblestones began to move beneath his feet. The stones are slick and wet, he thought, but that was not it. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest. "What's happening?" he said. His legs had turned to water. "I don't understand."

"And never will," a voice said sadly.

The cobblestones rushed up to kiss him. Pate tried to cry for help, but his voice was failing too.

His last thought was of Rosey.

No, Pate! :(

The night is damp, and the cobbles will be slippery! :(

Anyway, spoiler alert. We're not going to have a difficult time connecting the prologue with the last chapter.

"My thanks." There was something about the pale, soft youth that he misliked, but he did not want to seem discourteous, so he added, "My name's not Slayer, truly. I'm Sam. Samwell Tarly."

"I'm Pate," the other said, "like the pig boy." - Samwell V, AFFC

Final thoughts:

It was an impossibly long chapter, so I must be reading AFFC.

Jaqen is headed to the Wall when he's first introduced, and now he's potentially looking for a book about the death of dragons.

I'm not sure whether I should be concerned over his interest in Samwell. I'm going to hope for the best.

"There's an empty sleeping cell under mine in the west tower, with steps that lead right up to Walgrave's chambers," said the pasty-faced youth. "If you don't mind the ravens quorking, there's a good view of the Honeywine. Will that serve?"

"I suppose." He had to sleep somewhere. - Samwell V, AFFC

-> return to menu <-

#operation stumpy re-read #affc #prologue

70 notes · View notes