#pawnshopping

[one-time-i-dreamt]

I accidentally killed King Charles by presenting him with fancy glassware I found at a pawnshop.

[azen13]

Looking at the items the Starlight Pawnshop has to offer... I'd like to purchase the < Avian Necklace >, please. Because a pretty little songbird deserves only the prettiest chain with which to tie it down.

Paradise Lost, Paradise Found

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Avian Necklace: A silver necklace with a pendant in the shape of a bird mid-flight, imbued with a strange energy strong enough to shackle its wearer in paradise forever.

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Description: After the Charmony Festival, Sunday returns to Penacony with the Stellaron Hunters, desperate to be reunited with his lover.

CW: Yandere Themes, Brainwashing, Mind Control, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Intense Distress, Manipulation

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It is a Monday night in Penacony, and all is well in the world.

Sure, your hotel room is cramped. The mattress is lumpy. The view is horrible. But it is real, and that is all that matters to you. After an eternity of dreams so sweet you felt like you were drowning in joy, you would rather be stuck in this dingy hotel room than some luxury VIP suite anyways. It’s comforting in all its imperfections. 

That is, until you hear someone knock on your door.

The sound is rhythmic, three short, quick, evenly spaced knocks. It’s all you truly need to know who stands outside your door. Your heart already knows, beating so fast you feel like you could go into cardiac arrest. 

But then you hear his voice. Smooth and rich like espresso, laced with a subtle sweetness. “Darling,” Sunday whispers quietly, “please, open the door.” It is both a request and a command, though it isn’t infused with Sunday’s usual pacifying power. 

He liked doing this when you realized Ena’s dream was all an illusion; he would give you a chance to submit and  acquiesce to his love and care, but when you inevitably refused, he had no qualms about worming his way into your mind. Once inside, he’d gently smash any shred of resistance you had, before pulling you into his arms and crooning his hymns, praising your holiness. 

Isn’t this dream so blissful? he would ask you quietly, his hands ghosting over your skin, soft as feathers. I can give you anything you want. In Ena’s dream, it was true. Sunday could give you anything you wanted, even your freedom. But you knew it was an artificial imitation of independence; no matter where you traveled in the pseudo-universe, he was always there, always watching you. That was good enough for him: knowing you were safe, his hands cupped around your world like the way one would hold a bird.

The sound of Sunday’s voice breaks you out of your momentary reverie. “My dove, please, I don’t want our reunion to be bitter, but it seems like you aren’t giving me a choice.” You can feel the resonant harmonies in Sunday’s words grow louder, gripping your mind gently, giving you one more chance to open the door through your own free will.

You look around your room for any way out. On the opposite wall is a single window. You’re on the first floor. All you have to do is break through it and find someone. Frantically, you rush over, scrounging around for something to break the glass. You hear a loud sigh. “I wish you could just understand, my love,” Sunday laments. 

The lock clicks.

Instantly, you are pounding and clawing on the glass like a rabid animal. In brief moments of clarity through your haze of desperation, you can feel your shoulder ache from ramming into the glass. Your throat feels raw. Someone is screaming. It’s you.

Sunday’s hands are just as excruciatingly tender as you remember, gliding over your arms and clasping your wrists in a tender but firm embrace. “Shh, it’s okay, my dear,” he whispers quietly. Beneath the insanity that clouds his own eyes, you can glimpse genuine concern in his gilded gaze. “Calm down, shh, yes, relax,” he coos. 

All of the sudden, the world goes soft and blurry; every color in your hotel room, the pallid, washed-out grays and pale, muted blues seem to turn into a psychedelic kaleidoscope, luring you deeper and deeper into a state of tranquility. 

With slow, delicate motions, Sunday lets go of one of your wrists, a placid smile gracing his face for a mere moment. Making sure that you won’t hurt yourself anymore than you already have, he reaches into one of his coat pockets, pulling out a small necklace imbued with the power of the Order. 

“After the Charmony Festival, I was in such a deep state of despair. I thought I had lost everything. My dreams. My power. My home. My sister. My love.” His grasp on your wrist tightens, though you’re so lost in his spell that you can’t even feel the pain. “But now…now I have you again, my dearest,” he whispers hoarsely. Sunday can hardly believe you are real, with how constant misfortune has haunted his life. Time and time again, he has lost everything. Everyone. All his dreams and aspirations have shattered to pieces like stars crashing down to the earth from the heavens. But not you.

“Perhaps my plan was ill-timed,” Sunday muses as he loops the chain of the necklace around your neck. “But for right now, if I can’t give everyone paradise, then at least I can give it to you. And that will be more than enough,” he whispers, taking your appearance in, drinking it in like a man without water for forty days. 

The effects of his tuning are fading, but the power of the necklace is taking root in your mind, warping and twisting it until you understand. Truly magnificent. He can see the clarity and consciousness in your eyes, but he can also see behind it, the compulsion to listen. 

“Now, we must go,” Sunday says, his hands moving to clutch both of yours, pulling you up from where you’re sitting on the floor. “The rest of the Stellaron Hunters are likely getting anxious and ready to leave.” Still, he can’t help but steal one more moment alone. He presses a quick, light kiss to your lips, looking at your splendor one last time.

His sweet, foolish, caged bird.

[detroitlib]

View of pedestrian walking along Michigan Ave. View of Triangle Bar across street; building signs hang over sidewalk on right. Pawnshop sign in foreground; "Jack King's tools" sign in background. Handwritten on back: "Michigan Ave., 1950."

Burton Historical Collection, Detroit Public Library

[losieee]

(Update i have made the first post!! HERE) I have been working on my VTM:B recreation project in sims 4 and I finished off 3 builds this week!

I’m currently in the process of taking pictures. But expect new uploads from me VERY soon!!!!

I’m giving a little sneak peak since it’s been waaaaaayyy too long since I posted!! (And all of these builds are already on the gallery)

Gallery ID: Losieee

*waking up from my eternal slumber*

[forever-paul-walker]

Happy birthday to PAUL WALKER (September 12th 1973 - November 30th 2013)

[bloodlinessave]

Radio: “Hello LA, you're up way past your bed time, aren't you? Hope you've slipped into something comfortable, I know I have. If you're new to town or just new to this whole radio thing, you're listening to The Deb of Night, the only girl who will spend the night with you and leave first thing in the morning, guaranteed. Well, looks like the boards are lighting up! Aren't I the popular one? Lets see, eeny, meeny, miny, moe, who will be the lucky... caller, you've got the first shot at Deb tonight! So who do I have the pleasure of speaking to?…“

Nothing like a lonely night in your apartment, accompanied only by scratchy radio sounds listening to Deb of Night

[mycollectionmylife]

[newyorkthegoldenage]

Sixth Avenue, December 1937.

Photo: Arthur Rothstein via the LoC

[chaplinfortheages]

[trigonalidae]

i know hes a minor character but we don't talk about birds nest roy enough

[mistress-light]

@angeltannis You have no idea how much I screamed and wheezed at this.

[vansfriend]

Vans x Geoff Rowley x Pawnshop

[azen13]

100 Follower Special: The Starlight Pawnshop

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Welcome to my 100 Follower Special, The Starlight Pawnshop! For a brief period of time, I'll be holding a special sale on ten items. Each item corresponds to a oneshot about a certain Honkai Star Rail or Genshin character; through the item's description, you may receive some hints as to which character and what themes will be present in that oneshot.

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Rules for Purchasing

Please leave a request through my ask box mentioning the Starlight Pawnshop, as well as which item you would like to purchase.

You cannot request to purchase an item if you are asking anonymously, as this sale only allows for one purchase per person. To prevent any such incidents, please make sure the "Ask anonymously" option is off.

Only the first five orders will be taken. After the fifth order, all the other items will not be for sale and cannot be purchased.

After making a purchase, please wait five to seven days for your item to ship.

All oneshots will contain yandere themes, so please keep that in mind.

For Sale Items

Aquamarine Ring: A dazzling aquamarine ring enchanted with the power of the seas. The silver band has tarnished from the previous wearer's sins, though they were brought to justice and cleansed through rehabilitation.

Dragon's Scales: A small pile of sepia-colored scales that hold the power of the earth. Rare and valuable, the dragon they came from was hidden away from the world by a god for eons to protect them from hunters and other dangers.

Flowers From Another Era: Four flowers, tied in a bouquet by a scarlet ribbon. Between the lavender and violet petals lies tainted knowledge that destroyed a fruitful love between gods on a distant planet eons ago.

Grass Ring: A small, shoddily-woven ring made from dead grass, containing echoes of childhood promises uttered in a land of frost. Maybe the ring’s maker, after disappearing from the world for three months before returning, acted on those vows.

Painted Teacup: A small teacup with floral designs hand-painted by an artist. A jagged crack runs down its side, severing the stem of a crimson carnation.

Wanted Posters: Two wanted posters for the same criminal. The two people who were tracking this target crossed paths, and in doing so drastically altered each of their fates in radically different ways.

Purchased Items

Avian Necklace: A silver necklace with a pendant in the shape of a bird mid-flight, imbued with a strange energy strong enough to shackle its wearer in paradise forever.

Chess Pawn: A finely-carved chess pawn. If life is a chessboard, then so too are people pawns in other's games. Based on this pawn’s pristine condition, whoever controlled it loved it quite dearly.

Double-Sided Coin: A coin where both sides show the same pattern, allowing its desperate holder to not need to rely on luck to win this bet and secure their prize.

Fool's Mask: A red and white mask with an eerie smile. When the clock strikes twelve, its wearer shall don it and dance with his love for their affection.

Grass Ring: A small, shoddily-woven ring made from dead grass, containing echoes of childhood promises uttered in a land of frost. Maybe the ring’s maker, after disappearing from the world for three months before returning, acted on those vows.

[wendydarlingfics]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Will Byers/Mike Wheeler, Will Byers/Original Male Character(s) Characters: Will Byers, Mike Wheeler, Original Male Character(s) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - No Upside Down (Stranger Things), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Modern Era, Band Fic, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Past Eleven | Jane Hopper/Mike Wheeler, Unplanned Pregnancy, Discussion of Abortion, Abortion, Implied/Referenced Abortion, Past Infidelity, Kissing, No Smut, Mild Language, Conversations, Angst, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Childhood Friends, Gay Will Byers, Bisexual Mike Wheeler, Cigarettes, Smoking, Title from a Fleetwood Mac Song Series: Part 3 of Pawnshop Heart Trading Up Summary: Will finds that when it comes to Mike some old habits die hard.

Written for @bylerween Day 2 Prompt: Spell.

Written for @ao3tagbingo​ prompt Unplanned Pregnancy

[invisiblegarabgetruck]

May we have no good Jerry???? I'm secretly so into this guy but there's NOTHING ABOUT HIM I don't know if he's from the Hqs or something but this guy seems to just exist and nobody is talking about him

Omg if he's related to that golden little heart necklace Rick I'm totally satisfied with existence and all my pain instantly stops existing

ah, YESSSSSSSSSSS NO GOOD JERRY!!!! I don't know what Hqs mean, but I can't believe he's from the Pocket mortys (like he's from game tournament)

and like look at his design!!!! they are literally so sick.(the hair, the injured eyes, the big ass scar, the clothes??? muah muah) he deserve more than just one being a npc in the game 😭😭😭

also i think his dialogues in the game is interesting...

(he be aggressive)

as for his necklace. personally, I don't think he has anything to do with that rick, cuz he was made way before s7. (I thought it was that blue titanic necklace LMAO) but hey, don't let that stop you :p

[mamoonde]

continuation of part 1

Wei Ying doesn't get the green light from Wen Qing. He doesn't get the chance to.

Even with the cursed item of dubious origins -- er, well, more dubious than usual -- stored under Wei Ying's best containment talismans and protective arrays, he can feel dark tendrils of resentment energy leaking, hissing in his ears.

He ends up closing the shop early, hours before sunset. He puts up more heavy duty protective talismans (albeit self-made, not that they've failed him before) around the shop's walls, doors and windows. Just in time too, as the seals around the puzzle box barely light up anymore on his phone.

Oddly enough, nothing happens either other than pin drop silence.

Well, that's not creepy at all. Wei Ying thinks.

The puzzle box is fairly simple to solve. A twist of the odd knob, a camouflaged panel that slides into an invisible latch, and a couple other easy tricks before the top unlocks with a loud clack.

Wei Ying barely has time to brace himself before darkness engulfs the shop.

"Fuck!"

Having encountered more than his fair share of cursed objects, things filled with resentment, Wei Ying knows what to expect. The ice needles digging in his veins; the heaviness driving his heart to the pit of his stomach; despair that's his and isn't seeping into his bones. He's used to hearing the voices of corrupted souls attached, echoes of the strangers passed, wailing in his head. Those are pretty much par for the course.

He isn't prepared to feel them a thousandfold over, all at once. Nor is he prepared for the strange, bone-chilling feeling of familiarity.

Welcome back, master.

A thousand voices hiss and croon and purr and growl in unison, and it's creepy as fuck.

What the fuck are you?

Inside, sits an iron tiger amulet, nestled in faded silk. Innocuous enough, except, it looks like a replica of the Yin Tiger Seal. It's worn and frankly crudely hewn, clearly not the work of a master toolmaker. For the purported source of evil and chaos that once had the cultivation world in near shambles, it sure doesn't look it.

But given what just happened, Wei Ying doesn't think it's just a mere replica.

In fact, this might really just be the real deal.

(And he's not a fan of the mocking way they call him 'master' either. Yeah, that doesn't seem to bode well for him.)