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poojalate · 1 year

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Features of a zero minimum balance account

A savings account with minimum restrictions is a dream for the majority of the working class. You can deposit your funds in a savings account, which is a deposit account service offered by the bank. Typically, banks will provide you with a savings account as long as you keep a certain minimum balance in the account. If not, you'll be required to pay a maintenance fee.

However, some people start Instant Online Bank Account Opening to create an account known as a zero-balance savings account which does not require a minimum amount. Simple in concept, there is no requirement to keep a minimum balance in a savings account in order to maintain this kind of account.

Read some of the features of a zero minimum balance account:

No minimum balance

As its name would suggest, this account requires no minimum balance to be present in it. As a result, you are not required to keep a minimum balance. Therefore, if there is a zero balance, there is no penalty. When people open this kind of account, this is what draws them in the most.

Restricted transactions

The number of transactions you can make each month on zero-balance accounts is restricted. Banks often limit withdrawals to four per month. The bank will turn your account into a standard Savings Account if you do make more withdrawals than are allowed. For these additional transactions, some banks might even impose a small fee.

What are the different types of zero-balance accounts?

Zero-balance savings accounts come in a variety of forms. The three primary forms of zero-balance accounts are digital savings zero-balance accounts, Basic Savings Bank Deposit Accounts, or BSBDA, and BSBDA Small Accounts.

The e-KYC procedure allows for the immediate opening of digital savings accounts online. To open the account, you must have a PAN card and an identification number. In this process, the OTP issued to the registered mobile number is used to verify the biometric information. These accounts initially have some limitations under central bank standards.

Economically challenged people without bank accounts who possess the required KYC documents can open a Basic Savings Bank Deposit Account or BSBDA. This requires zero balance.

Performing Instant Online Bank Account Opening for BSBDA Small accounts can be opened by those without the necessary KYC documentation with the aid of an introducer. Small savings account holders are limited to holding a certain amount. Additionally, consumers have a year to submit the necessary KYC documentation.

A limited number of savings accounts

According to new restrictions issued by central banks, there can only be one zero-balance account at one bank. Additionally, if you have a zero-balance savings account with one bank, you are not permitted to have any other savings accounts with that bank. You must provide a declaration to the bank saying that you do not already have a zero-balance savings account with another bank when you apply for one.

Final thoughts

While having its own benefits, a zero-balance savings account may have an impact on your financial situation. An Account Opening App is helpful if you encounter unanticipated financial situations that require numerous withdrawals. Having a minimum balance in your savings account may therefore be advantageous.

#kotak #kotak811 #Instant Online Bank Account Opening #Payment Bank #Digital Account Opening App #Online Bank Accounts Opening #नेट बैंकिंग #नेट बैंकिंग एप्प #Banking App #Money Transfer #Bank Account Check #Online Digital Account Opening #Online Open Bank Account App #Bank Open Account Online #Online Bank Account Opening App Sbi #Digital Account App #Open Saving Account Online #Zero Balance Account Online #Instant Open Bank Account

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tagedeszorns · 11 months

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I can't get on board with Threads. The sure amount of data-mining Threads does, along with the fact if you delete it you also delete your instragram account as well are instant bad vibes. Twitter might suck but a LOT of indie devs, small businesses and tons of artists relay on it. Having to pack up and try to get the same amount of attention on other social media sites isn't easy, livelihoods would be at risk if it does die.

Absolutely! Threads is just datamining.

But if it is drawing attention to the Fediverse, which has exactly zero datamining and zero ads, because it's not commercial and it's decentralised but connected, it's a good bridge for people still clinging to Twitter, to get off of Musks horrorshow.

The internet needs to go back to being publicly owned and non-commercial. If you are not the product (like you are on Twitter or anything Meta owns), you are independent.

The Fediverse has non-commercial alternatives for a lot of things: Lemmy for Reddit, Pixelfed for Instagram, Mastodon for Twitter, Peertube for YouTube, alternatives for Facebook or Wordpress, too. It's a decentralised internet but you can connect with everybody on any platform that uses the ActivityPub.

For example, people following me on Mastodon can also see, share, comment on my stuff on my Pixelfed-account or my bookreviews on Bookwyrm (the goodreads-alternative). As soon as Tumblr activates ActivityPub I will share my Tumblr-Posts as well. Or my Mastodon-posts on Tumblr. Whatever I want to.

So this whole decentralised web is a giant opportunity for small businesses to showcase their stuff to a very wide audience. But of course the big companies have not much interest in losing their advertisment-cattle to self-governed places, so there is a lot of marketing-fearmongering going on. It'll be hard to break this chokehold, but it is necessary, else small businesses and artists will be forever at the mercy of big money.

Also, the Fediverse is based on accessibility. It's made with disabled folks in mind - most people over at Mastodon use image descriptions, for example. Lots of space for queer folks, too. Plus - mostly European, so no "no nudity!!111"-religious-crap either! And the privacy-settings of the EU, that are much stricter than in the US.

Yes, I'm promoting this very hard, because I'm believing in the values of a free, accessible, anti-capitalist, non-religious internet. I want anarchy back. I don't want to be the milking cow of some corporations harvesting my data. The Fediverse has lots of risks, too. But they are minimal compared to putting your art, your thoughts, or - in case of a lot of transfolks - safety in the hand of some greedy billionaires.

Some links:

youtube

#Fediverse #Mastodon #Threads

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tfseeds · 11 months

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The Farmer's Curse - A TF AU

(Notes: This is a short TF scene combining writing with illustrations, set in a Stardew Valley AU with my character Gaius Caster as the farmer. The family farm is intrinsically linked with a 'blessing of nature' that manifests in whoever claims the land.

I was reminded of the old transformation RPs from the Dr. Moreau GaiaOnline forums, and one of the elements I missed was the long transformation write-ups. So I decided to 'be the visceral TF write-ups I want to see in the world' and finally get some of this AU out of my head and down in writing/art.)

Gaius sat on the edge of his bed in the sad gray box that was his apartment. The remains of his instant noodles sat atop previous noodle cups, alongside empty Joja cans. The mess had accumulated forgotten amid the sleep-to-work-to-sleep grind of his daily life. But work wasn’t going to get in the way anymore.

Since he’d been fired.

Sorry. “Let go” to be precise. The department said they were “moving in a new direction” and that direction involved AI automation that did his work for zero cost. Not that Gaius had enjoyed the work, he’d never been a numbers guy, but he was sorely missing that paycheck. Rent was coming up and his bank account was severely lacking. This wouldn’t be the first time his payment was late, and the corporation that owned his apartment was consistent with reminding him of his ‘final strike’ status, courtesy of the automated calls.

He heaved a large sigh, setting aside the one beer he’d let himself indulge. His eyes fell on the tiny wooden box sitting by his bedside. He’d long forgotten it was there.

“Gaius, I’m not leaving this with you as a gift,” his grandfather had said. “It’s a responsibility - a terrible one. You have to promise me you’ll never open this box except as a last resort. You have to be certain there is no other path you would take. That you are willing to give up everything to change your lot in life.”

Gaius had accepted the wooden box with the assurance that he would keep the box safe and firmly locked. That had been mere days before his grandfather passed, and he’d kept his promise over the past year.

But now, staring down the barrel of piling debt, in a small cardboard thin apartment that cost most of monthly earnings, surrounded by trash and little else, Gaius was realizing: He was miserable. More miserable than he’d let himself realize. He’d rather do something drastic than spend one more day trying to survive in this city.

The box was small and cool, fitting easily in the palm of his large hand. It was built like a ring box though a good bit larger than one, and now Gaius wondered again what could possibly be inside that would warrant a deathbed promise. The outside was a dark wood, polished with rounded corners. Each side was adorned with similar carved images of round figures that Gaius could only associate with food mascots - like the dancing orange and apple caricatures on fruit gummy packs. A small brass latch shaped like a star kept the lid sealed.

He ran a thumb over the lid. Could this little box actually change anything? Was he really going to do this?

With a flick, he undid the latch and opened the lid.

A flash of green blinded Gaius. He dropped the box with a shout, shielding his eyes. Unseen to him, green misty energy swirled from the open box, seeping into Gaius’s body and vanishing from view. He blinked away flickering afterimages and rubbed at his eyes. “The hell was that…”

Cramping pain seized his legs. Gaius tumbled from the bed, hugging his legs. The muscles spasmed under his hands, as if triggered by an electric current. And with each rapid state of tension, they grew. Thickening, swelling.

A weird, hot, melting feeling crept up his feet and shins. Like stepping into hot mud. With it, a dull pain as his shoes compressed around his feet, cramping his toes and squeezing his heels.

But that was strange. Normally his cheap sneakers fit fine.

His right heel popped free from the shoe’s lip. Gaius staired, wide-eyed. His foot - his feet - were growing longer. Inches upon inches of length as the left one tore through the front of his shoe with a dull pop of the seam. He grabbed for his foot, momentarily forgetting the newly-muscled thighs now painfully squeezed by too-tight jeans. It was long, slender, bringing to mind an image of a dog’s leg. His sock came free as he changed position - jeans creaking in protest - and he let out a startled grunt. The second and middle toe had swollen to well over twice their regular size, pushing forward, while the digits beside them were receding. The sensation was like the swelling of a bee sting - hot, sore, and weirdly stiff. Stupefied by shock, he watched as the middle toes continued to grow, taking over the entirety of the end of his foot. His toenails grew longer, thickening, seeming to wrap around the ends of his toe-feet, the color shifting rapidly from pinkish to dark brown and off-black.

A single thought broke through the shock.

Hooves?

A jolt of pain dashed his thoughts. Gaius clutched his head as another throb coursed through his skull. Someone was pounding at his temples from the inside. A small, bony lump pushed against the skin beside each temple, slowly growing with each throb. Farther and farther the bony points pushed between his fingers, stretching the skin taught until it gave way, forced open with a small trickle of blood that was almost instantly swallowed as the torn edges re-sealed themselves around the nascent horns. As if unshackled, the horns grew faster, thickening at the base as they curled forward, pristine bone white fading to a dark near-black at the tips.

And while Gaius was preoccupied with the painful head-birthing of his new horns, his spine took the opportunity to join the fray. What started as a nub pushing at the back of his already-at-their-limit jeans quickly grew and snaked beneath the fabric. Coiling and twisting, the narrow muscled tail pushed its way over the waistband of his pants - a few seams popping open in the process - and lashed about with his pain and terror.

The throbbing in his head was starting to subside, allowing him to feel the prickling heat now surrounding his ears. The lobes shifted, skin stretching, as he felt them push away from the side of his head. The heat was contrasted sharply by the cold air he could feel across their expanding surface.

A wave of numbness followed by a million pins and needles swept down his spine, spreading beneath his skin, everywhere from his belly downward. Where the tingling lingered, thick, coarse hair follicles sprouted, covering his legs in a coat of dark brown hair - glossy and smooth. His ears also quickly sprouted a coat of their own, though theirs was a great deal softer, blending into his natural hairline.

How long he lay there, curled up on the floor in a ball of shock as his body and brain tried to make sense of everything, he couldn’t tell. His mind scrambled from thought to thought - this couldn’t be real - surely this was a dream - why him? - as the still-lingering aches in his body brought a painfully physical reality to his situation.

Why’d he open that box-

Oh! The box!

It took a moment for Gaius to right himself - horns catching on the edge of his mattress, limbs twisting around each other in new, awkward angles. He let out a yelp as shifting his weight accidentally crunched his tail under his rear.

His hooves scraped at the thin carpet as he crawled on his knees to the end of the bed where the wooden box had tumbled. Gaius reached fearfully for the opened box, but the wood remained innocently mundane as he picked it up, not a sign of any of the mayhem it had just inflicted around it. The only thing he noticed was a tiny strip of paper curled up in the bottom. He tugged it out and uncurled it in his fingers. There was some handwriting on it.

I know change is hard, but I promise - put in the work and everything will be okay.

For help, contact Lewis at this number. He’ll get you set proper.

A phone number was scrawled beneath it.

Gaius stared at the strip. Then took a deep breath.

Time to find his phone.

#transformation #transfur #tftuesday #tfeveryday #body horror #stardew valley curse au #evion art #gaius caster #bull tf #tf writing

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twopoppies · 1 year

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I feel like I need to be genuine about this because I'm getting a bit tired about people being overexcited and lash out on the ones who aren't and then talking shit about this doc with their friends, in groupchats, on private accounts... (btw it's now about solos, larries, antis, I've seen literally every single part of the fandom behaving like this)

So, I was pretty devastated about the doc being out in cinemas because I know 100% they aren't going to show it in my city and I can't go to another one because I've got uni the next day.

And now I'm not, because I'm not excited as I was days ago about it.

And even if I want to try and go see it, I can't because I know nothing, no ticket prices, no idea at what time it will be, nor in what theaters in the big city, and so many people are frustrated because they just can't organise anything, and of course tickets will be gone in an instant.

There's no promo, and the whole being honest and telling my story feels pretty fake right now 🤷🏼‍♀️

I love Louis and if they somehow end showing the doc in my city I will be seeing it but as things are right now I won't be too heartbroken if they don't , that's all I was trying to say 😂

I don’t know what tf Louis is doing as far as this documentary is concerned. No one outside of the fandom knows anything about it. As you say, there’s been zero information about where/when the film will be showing. Fans want to see it, but his team isn’t making that easy to do. I don’t think it’s only being shown for one day, is it? Is that what they’ve said? Maybe you won’t get tickets for the opening day, but if you want to see it in the theater, I would imagine you’ll be able to get tickets. And if not, seeing it via streaming service is really just fine. But I do get what you mean about circumstances making less upset than you were at first. 🫤

One thing I never understand about Louis’ fans is the way some of them attack people for not being a fan in the right way. You’re not talking about him enough. You’re talking about him but you’re talking about the wrong things. The way you talk about him shows you’re not as excited about him as you are about Harry. You’re not posting the exact same amount of Louis as you are Harry, so clearly you don’t really love Louis. This morning I got yelled at in my anons for not posting about the teaser that dropped which meant I clearly didn’t care about him, but I’d literally just woken up and was answering my anons before going on my dash. It’s fucking exhausting to feel like I’m being micromanaged by insecure lunatics.

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philtstone · 1 year

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Anne/Gilbert, 13

#13 - You say my name for the first time and I fall in love in an empty bar

two days ago i accidentally stumbled upon an ancient half-written opening scene to an anne of green gables psych au in the depths of my wip folder, and it struck me that whatever this concept was, the world deserved to see it. so i decided to pummel it into a coherent prompt fill and here we are. the prompt is ... interpretive, but i think it works. if it isn't clear, anne is shawn, diana is gus, and gilbert is juliette. i don't actually know if there's a lassiter in this universe; suggestions are, of course, welcome

for @foolgobi65, because as one might expect, the title of the google doc read, "for maya"

Anne’s day ends with her spitting out a large gulp of no-brand hallucinogenic instant coffee onto the potted azalea in their lobby.

Well. That is not wholly accurate. One could argue that Anne’s day ends with the gasping splutter that follows, and the wide-eyed stare she bestows upon her sheepish colleague slash long-time childhood friend slash former sworn enemy, slash --

Well. That, too, leaves some points unaddressed.

The most accurate account capitulates that Anne’s day -- an all-around uneventful, if emotionally complicated affair -- ends with the soft, butterfly-wing laugh shared by two friends who have acknowledged the known truth of a secret badly kept and ultimately harmless in practice.

But that’s where Anne’s day ends; it begins quite monotonously, with a tip-off about Mrs. Blewitt’s peevish cat having gone missing (it had run away and good riddance, Anne insists, a conclusion she comes to without any collection of evidence nor erstwhile psychic episode), and the spilled bowl of coco puffs that heralds the complicated emotions of the day’s middle.

And so, without further ado, the middle:

Gilbert is starfished on the floor, t-shirt clad back against cheap laminate.

Gilbert has been starfished on the floor (t-shirt clad back against cheap laminate) all afternoon. Anne does not know if this is his natural mourning position or something unique to this particular lamentation. Either option is pitiable on principle, and saddening in the more subjective sense; he is a dear friend, and this a sticky situation.

But the fact of the matter is that his limbs are simply too long to be starfishing in the Lady C’s Psychic Detective Agency lobby. Specifically, they don’t actually have a lobby, as the entire space is just one dinky office and a houseplant.

“Oh, Gilbert,” says Diana, placatingly, as she’s said at least twelve times in varying tones of commiseration in the last hour.

“I’m a fool,” Gilbert tells the ceiling. Anne can acquiesce that the ceiling is a very good listener; she and that ceiling have had many a despondent heart-to-heart in the past year alone. “A prized idiot, Anne.”

Anne scowls.

She does so enjoy being right -- it has to be said -- but that doesn’t mean she would pull an I told you so after someone’s job has been lost. Jobs are livelihoods. Livelihoods mean being able to do things like actually afford groceries, or own a car that does not make horrible rattling noises every time one turns on the left-hand blinker.

She got the “I told you so” off her chest hours ago.

“You’re not an idiot,” says Anne, more snappishly than she intends it. “You’re a good person, Gilbert Blythe. That is not an idiot.”

“I am,” insists Gilbert. “This was a terrible idea. Zero out of ten, would not do again. Why didn’t I go into medicine? Remember Ms. Stacey from the seventh grade? She said I should go into medicine.”

At this, Diana throws Anne an aggrieved look from under the well-groomed fringe of her glossy dark hair.

Diana -- when she isn’t saying “Oh, Gilbert” in commiserating tones -- is making coffee in the corner in what must be a noble attempt at offering a comforting hot drink during a time of trouble. Only, she’s using the last of their instant coffee mix, which Anne employs more in DIY home facial remedies (a desperate bid to reduce her stubbornly-enduring freckles) than she does in coffee. It generally tastes like putrified cardboard and has odd kernels of glittery orange stuff in it that Anne once insisted almost did give her an out of body hallucinogenic psychic experience.

Marilla had said “Fiddlesticks” and attributed that to sleep deprivation and a too-large cup of artificially caffeinated joe, but that is beside the point.

The point is: Anne’s not sure if the coffee is their best course of action, comfort-wise, and of course reminiscing about seventh grade is not going to get them anywhere good. Seventh grade involved terrible hair dye jobs, the distasteful entity that was Josie Pye, and that one time (read: the entirety of seventh grade) where Gilbert tugged Anne’s braid in a misguided attempt to get her attention and Anne vowed to hate him forever.

Obviously, Anne did not keep good on that vow, else Gilbert would not be starfishing on the floor of her slightly-fraudulent psychic detective agency office, in the throes of misery.

Anne sighs. She tries to telepathically communicate to Diana that it is indeed a go on the well-meaning offering of mediocre bean juice and taps her foot.

“Here, Gilbert,” says Diana, kneeling down and offering the chipped mug to the general vicinity of Gilbert’s prone chin. Gilbert looks at her desolately, and then down his nose -- it’s a very fine nose, Anne thinks unhelpfully -- at the steaming cup. He goes a little cross-eyed.

“Oh,” says Gilbert. “Thanks, Diana.”

But he doesn’t make any move to get up. Anne taps her foot more insistently and crosses her plaid-clad arms, frowning.

“Drink the coffee,” says Anne, in a tone she hopes brooks no argument. Diana told her only yesterday that she’d quite excelled in recent weeks at achieving it. The wisdom of its application had been another matter entirely, tangled in an unfortunate case involving a missing Jersey cow and a classical opera singer’s heirloom willow-pattern serving platter -- but that was neither here nor there, and Diana’s faithful encouragement was greatly appreciated.

A Jersey cow in Toronto, Anne thinks now, huffing. Of all the things --

Gilbert has not taken his coffee.

“Gilbert,” says Anne.

Perhaps the stuff’ll be so strong that Gilbert will be knocked right out cold, thus reprieving him of his woes for a short while. Or maybe it’ll give him that hallucinogenic experience Anne had, and, subsequently, he will realize that Anne herself is not the real thing, and merely an expert fake, and their carefully-built, much-cherished friendship will be over forever.

Fiddlesticks, says Marilla’s sensible voice in Anne’s head.

Focus, Anne, thinks Anne.

“Gilbert,” Anne says again, in less theatrical tones, “you did absolutely nothing wrong. You are free of the corrupt institution of manufactured public justice now, and good riddance to that.”

This is the second time today Anne has said “and good riddance to that”. Gilbert says nothing, and continues frowning at the ceiling.

“You pursued justice,” continues Anne -- and is it really her fault the theatrics are creeping back in? -- “and for that were dishonourably suspended. You followed protocol and reported disingenuous practices that were hurting an innocent family. That’s more than enough to ensure your relative moral standing in an ethically complex situation. So, really, who is the dishonourable party here? The --”

“The Toronto police department,” offers Diana helpfully.

“The Toronto police department!” finishes Anne.

“Yes,” says Diana.

“Yes,” repeats Anne, then flounders, realizing her point has already been made. “And – well – good riddance to them!”

There is a beat; Gilbert turns his face, rather muppet-like, across the floor, to look at her with marginally-less miserable eyes; the top of his curly dark head flops against the floor. They stare at each other awkwardly for a long moment.

“Well?” Anne says, finally. “Drink that poisonous coffee and up and at ‘em.”

Finally, Gilbert sighs, and pushes himself up onto his elbows. This is good. One brown-fingered hand grasps the death liquid in a sort of fumbled grapple for balance and prevented spillage. He says,

“Thank you, Diana -- Anne. I -- I know.”

“Well, good,” says Anne.

“I’m just -- I’d be perfectly happy figuring out a new life, on principle, but this case -- I can’t just leave it.”

“Well that’s a given. Obviously, you’ll figure it out. Bring those clowns to justice.”

This is Anne speaking.

“Right,” says Gilbert. There is a furrow remaining between his frustratingly nice brows. “But Anne -- I don’t have any resources anymore. I got fired, remember? I had to turn in my badge and gun and even my car.”

“We have a car,” Diana says helpfully. Anne nods, not quite realizing the end goal her bosom friend and psychic detective partner is building up to here; she is more caught on the fact that Gil’s department issued vehicle was a sleek Volvo, and Diana’s car is her mother’s ancient fire engine red Toyota and outside of ongoing engine troubles also smells eternally of the family kimchi recipe. “We have food in our fridge, too –” (that kimchi) “and we have pens, and pencils, and lots of paper, and a printer – Anne’s got a taser, even –”

“Diana,” Anne hisses, instinct overriding any higher brain function that would catch on to Diana’s burgeoning Point.

“You know that’s illegal, right?” says Gil, unhelpfully,

“What I’m trying to say,” says Diana, “is sure, you have resources, Gilbert Blythe. You’ve got us, haven’t you? Actually, well, I’ve had a really great idea. You could just work here!”

It is here that the heroines of this daytime drama begin their journey towards the spluttering end-of-day outlined at the beginning, because at this cheerful declaration Anne turns, and blinks rapidly at her colleague. Gilbert, in turn, blinks at Anne.

“You’ll be an official part of Lady C’s Psychic Detective Agency!” continues Diana, all dimpled smiles, and even claps her hands together – so enthusiastically that the puffy cold shoulder sleeves of her powder blue top bounce. “I think that solves all of our problems, don’t you, Anne?”

The late afternoon sun shining through the half-covered office window is making Diana’s Wednesday work-day highlight pop quite extraordinarily; perhaps this is what distracts Anne enough that she does not take her by the well-manicured hand and say, with awkward comedic timing, a word? like people do in humorous television shows. Rather, realizing that there really is nothing else she can say:

“Oh, erm, sure.”

Only then, somewhat immediately, does the reality of the statement barrel into her like that damnable Jersey cow.

“Diana,” Anne hisses, a second time.

“Oh, don’t be a sourpuss, Anne,” Diana says breezily. “I think Gil’ll get on just fine here. And anyway, Marilla gave us, like, four days’ worth of leftovers to keep in the fridge. We need a man to help us eat through it.”

Amidst all of this, Gilbert’s expression has been slowly evolving from an understandable bewilderment to a perhaps more expected bemusement. By the time Anne has gathered enough of her wits to a), ignore him, and b), say, “No one says sourpuss anymore, Diana,” (because she is feeling acutely uncharitable in that exact moment), Gilbert has properly pulled himself up into a sitting position, rested his elbows loosely upon his knees, and said,

“That sounds fine to me.”

Anne whirls around to face him. She has lost words. How could Diana do this to her? This great betrayal of her deepest trust? Absolutely, Gilbert cannot work with them. Gilbert, who she has finally made peace with. Gilbert, who is one of her most valued friends. Gilbert, who trusts Anne, but does not at all know her process. Gilbert does not know the minutiae of her talents. Gilbert does not know that she is, in fact, lying through her teeth to the law, for money and also the greater good of the Greater Toronto Area. Well, perhaps it’s more like bending some truths – but Gilbert is an innocent in this equation, is the point! Of course, he is innocent in a manner that makes him utterly guilty and culpable in every respect, as Anne never hesitates to blame him for her many personal ills – but the fact of the matter is that she, Anne, will not be able to keep her fraudulent clairvoyant claims safe if Gilbert is living in her detective office.

“It’s not like I need a place to crash or anything,” Gilbert says, as though reading Anne’s very unhelpful and resoundingly mute train of thought. “But what I’d give to beat the bastards who did this at their own game.”

… Oh. The case. Which they have still not solved.

Anne, with herculean effort, unsticks her voice.

“No,” she says. “Absolutely not. This is a terrible idea, Gilbert Blythe. I won’t have it.”

Gilbert eyes her very carefully, like she is a puzzle he cannot quite crack. Diana, on the other hand – who has been collecting her coffeemaking supplies with efficiency – whirls around on her way to the kitchenette and offers Anne a terribly pointed, knowing look.

“I think it’ll be good for all of us, actually.”

“No,” Anne says. Really, she almost clasps her hands together in prayer. “No, no no no no, Di-ana –”

But Diana is gone, and Anne finds herself suddenly mute again: Gilbert has abandoned his laminate lamentations and stood to his full height.

He’s right in front of her and everything, too. She is struck by an awful earth-shattering vision of the same unfairly broad, football player’s chest now directly in her eyeline walking away from her, broken and defeated by the soul-destroying betrayal that will follow his inevitable realization that Anne is a lying liar who lied.

“C’mon, Anne,” Gil says, as he steps forward to follow Diana out. His whole person is too close, his voice too chummy, just by her ear but oh so casual, and then, in the most infuriatingly possible way he could say it – “what’s the worst that could happen?”

And he leaves her standing in the empty Lady C’s lobby, wishing that she really did have psychic abilities after all.

Maybe then, she could have seen this total disaster of a development coming.

#my writing #anne of green gables #psych #taylor swift prompt meme #anne x gilbert #anne x diana #anne shirley #gilbert blythe #diana barry #shirbert #anne x gilbert x diana #anne as a far more unhinged version of shawn is deeply appealing to me #also i made the blueberry red bc i feel it needed to be different for the au #i retain psychological damage every time i remember that gilbert canonically plays football in university

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mightyflamethrower · 10 months

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ST. PAUL, MN — Local man Dean Richardson caused a rift to open in the space-time continuum this morning when he foolishly used a credit card to purchase a Dave Ramsey book.

"I'm ready to finally get my financial life in order," said Mr. Richardson as he approached the checkout desk with The Total Money Makeover. "I'm just going to put this on my Masterca--Aaaa!!!!!"

Bystanders reported that Mr. Richardson's actions caused an instant tear in the very fabric of reality. "Mr. Richardson broke the cardinal rule of financial peace in order to gain financial peace," said onlooker Thomas Gaines. "It was like he took an elevator heading down in order to go up. He should have known better - Dave is literally cutting a credit card in half on the cover. The man got what he deserved."

According to his wife, Mr. Richardson had been trying for months to take a course on Dave Ramsey's financial strategies. "Dean had signed up for Financial Peace University at a church across town. His car broke down though, so he went and bought a brand-new car and put zero money down," explained Mrs. Richardson. "The class got cancelled, but he saw Dave was doing an event in Chicago. So, he took an early distribution from his retirement account to pay for the registration. Sadly, Dean got sick and couldn't make it. So, he finally just went to the bookstore with the credit card we've maxed out, and I haven't seen him since."

At publishing time, Mr. Richardson had reportedly made it back through the rift in space-time and, having glimpsed the future, immediately applied to be a UPS driver.

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vanosslirious · 2 years

Text

BBS Dialogue Prompts: #200

BBS Dialogue Prompts & Sentence Starter: [ 10 ]

SMII7y

That was bullshit, I want a redo.

What the fuck was that, fireworks?

If all else fails, choose chaos.

I want nothing to do with ya.

Just a bit of chaos, nothing new.

That was really nice of you.

Where the fuck did you come from?

I was really close to hitting the quit button.

This was supposed to be a fresh start!

Give me your hand!

I’m unplugging the controller.

It was the problem.

It’s bad energy.

What the fuck is happening?

The only issue you’ll experience is me, and that is usually the issue anyway.

What do you mean lagging out?

He was pulled out of the ether by the dark lord.

Yeah, that’s what’s always been happening, don’t disrespect him.

What were you going to say?

You took too long, I needed a yes or a no.

VANOSSGAMING

I think you're funny.

Is that yours?

Okay, now this is your house, right?

Explain what is happening!

Imagine being that guy all the way up there, damn.

I have zero purpose right now.

This noise is so annoying.

I’m a fucking genius!

I deserve that!

Damnit, that looks so fun.

H2ODELIRIOUS

I repeat, what is happening?

Listen, don’t point the shotgun at my face.

Those scumbags robbed me.

They took my car.

I pass out, or die!

Why are you looking at me, sir, what the hell?

That poor guy, he’s going to die!

I wish I had money.

I have no idea what's going on.

I’m taking that, screw that guy.

TERRORISER

Open the fucking door!

Can you shut the fuck up for a second.

Oh, I'm sorry, am I having too much fun?

Depends, sometimes he's babe.

The cold brings it out of me.

Stop eating, lads, the both of ya!

If he slams down into it.

I have a feeling something bad is about to happen.

Anxiety building bullshit game.

That was me twenty minutes ago.

NOGLA

I’m going to learn how to drive in America, and fucking crash into ya.

Good point actually.

Twenty-nine years of genius.

What did he say?

I get it, that’s good.

If you’re lying, I’m going to bed.

I don’t want to hear it from you, alright.

Oh no, it's not looking good.

They left us, why?

Just because he has low battery?

KRYOZ

We have to be super stealthy for the irony.

They only know me.

There's guards behind us, we have to get through.

Well, stop standing in my fucking way.

I just got it, fuck off.

Stop! Getting so close!

Who the hell’s calling me?

Yo, Spam Callers, if you’re watching this, burn in hell.

Wait, I don't feel anything.

No, wait, do the other side.

WILDCAT

Of course we want you to take it off.

Which one are we going in, guys?

You sound like the breaks on an old school bus, what was that?

Get me off this fucking helicopter.

That was so violent.

Don't bully me, come on.

All I do is die, let me live one time.

I don’t know, that was amazing.

That guy died for no reason.

I actually wanted to go up there.

BASICALLYIDOWRK

I thought this was a shotgun.

Do you see us?

This guy’s so fucking far away.

I don’t know how you got that kill.

I want to be a murderer!

I’m about to riddle you with slices.

Give me your sword!

Sixty players…about to be no players after I’m done.

What are you doing, just get down.

MOO

I can utilize anything.

One of you is gonna have to change.

Oh, I'm already gone.

This might scare you too.

You gotta learn how to open doors.

Hey, that fixed my gun, thanks!

I turned invisible.

That was a demand he just did.

By the way, you only caught me because I was distracted.

I thought you were just pissed.

So it is the outfits.

BLARG

I was beating him up with a sword.

Why does this keep happening?

You kind of sound like you’re feindin’.

I'm gonna be honest...I...wasn't ready.

Yeah, tax the rich, but don't look at my account.

Is he going to come out of there like Darth Vader?

To be fair, I did just rip his arm off.

You instantly drained 500ml of blood from him. Instant!

Man, I put his liver in my pocket.

I picked up three things trying to get his arm.

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assetmantra-youtube · 1 year

Video

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tinyhotelofhorror · 1 year

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🌜 PLEASE READ 🌛

Welcome to the Jackdaw Hotel, where no reservations are needed and every monster here is waiting to smother you with cum love💕 This is an 18 plus role play account for the muses who exist within the fictional hotel. I am excited to share these unhinged characters with you but do try and read my requests before reaching out to me :)

Follows from baadkarmas

HOTEL GUIDELINES

* If you are under 18 please don’t interact with my continent. I will check profiles that follow me and block those that aren’t appropriate. I am a writer in her late 20s (you can call me karma) and I would prefer to interact with other muns also in their 20s.

* Writing wise; I normally write one or two paragraphs in reply, but will happily accomodate to others. I do have experience with asterisk writing, however, I prefer to write paragraphs.

* Please refrain from the use of godmodding, and if you want something in particular in a rp we can organise a plot before hand and / or work through it as it is written.

* I want to use instant messages for ooc discussion and plotting because of that

* While the main focus of the tumblr is for smut, I am happy to do general rp with these characters. I think they’re neat so being able to explore their personas is fun.

* Anons~ please feel free to interact.

* Here is a list of kinks/themes I am really not into: underage, body fluids (piss, scat), pregnant, feet, vore, inflation, a lot of violence, homophobia, transphobia, racism, misogyny (honestly, if you support any of those phobias leave now thanks)

* Like everyone else, I have a life outside of the internet. I will do my best to reply to threads as often as possible and I apologise if I don’t reply sooner than some would like. There might also be times were I just have zero brain cells and need to take a break from writing. I will always tell you if I have lost interest in the rp, and suggest other plots we can do if I feel like you are a good rp buddy.

* While my muses live in the hotel, they aren’t limited to that and can be used anywhere

* I will add more rules on and off if anything comes up

* Like this post if you’ve read the short little list and check out your new favourite monsters ~

Links: MUSES - OPEN STARTERS

#*ooc #*guidelines

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besttradingplatform1 · 1 year

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Zerodha Discount Broker Review 2020: Compare Broker Online

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poojalate · 1 year

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Choose to benefit from Bank Online Account Open

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Be sure the details are right

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Decide to take part in exciting banking

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