#'would you like to sign up for our consumer card

[stormyjune]

hilarious that when my job relies on a certain number of referrals i quit as soon as possible, but when someone in another department says "if you send me a referral i'll order pizza" i get five in three hours

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Seeing Stars 2

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes

Summary: You struggle to be star struck by the world's most famous super soldiers. (grumpy!short!reader)

Note: Guess this is happening.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Your image in print makes you cringe again. If you keep doing that, you're going to form a few new wrinkles. It's hard to describe the expression on your face; somewhere between a gape and a grimace. Bonita doesn't seem to notice as she waves the signed photo in glee. 

"Oh my god! Mo is going to hella jealous," she chimes. 

You grumble. Another pair of thunder gods barge by and you stop short to keep from getting bonked by a foam hammer.  

"They couldn't crop me out?" You wonder. 

"Heyyyyy, no way. Then it'd only be me and cap," she whines. "You look fine." 

She isn't looking at you. She's too obsessed with herself, perched perfectly in Steve Rogers' arms. You glower at your likeness and roll your eyes.  

You shrug as if trying to wriggle free of the touch no longer there. It's there in the picture, that unwelcome embrace. It just happened so fast. You don't touch. You don't hug. Bonita gets on for her birthday and one for Christmas and outside of that, you have your bubble. 

"My feet are killing me," you drone. 

"You're not tapping our already, are you?" She chirps. 

"No, but I could use a coffee. Maybe sit for a few." 

"I don't want to miss the costume competition," she hums. "How about you come find me?" 

"That works." 

You'll agree to anything if it gets you a break from all this. You feel your battery flickering. You're at 12% socially and recharging will take days, if not weeks. 

"I'll text if I get lost," you assure her. 

You part and go in search of one of the vending machines you passed a few minutes ago. You're not outwardly sardonic, or you try not to be. When people describe you as deadpan, you're often surprised they pick up on that. You say as little as you can but some people take silence negatively.  

You tap your card for the overpriced instant cappucino. The machine churns noisily and a cup drops down onto the tray. The brown espresso mix spits from the nozzle. Its aromatic even if you expect a watered down flavour. 

You take the cup and blow over it. You keep away from the hordes of fandom devout. You wind along the wall and find a quiet hallway. You lean by the emergency exit and sip your coffee. 

You close your eyes and sigh, tilting your head back as you let the coolness of the wall soothe you. You inhale as the thrum of the crowd drifts in. You don't want to go back. 

There's some scuffing at the end of the hall. Your head snaps up and you stand straight, expecting a staff member to chase you out. Worse. It's one of them. 

"Oh hey," the blond slows as he comes down the hall, stopping midway. "Um... didn't expect anyone back here." 

You stare at Steve Rogers and take another drink, "just on my way out." You glance at the door to your left; 'Employees Only'. The placard beneath denotes a restroom. Makes sense, he can't piss with the peons. 

"You got a photo," he says as you edge down the hall, keeping near the wall as you try not to get close. 

"My friend did, yeah." 

"Wait? You didn't get a copy? I can pull a few strings." 

"No thanks," you stop a foot away from him, realising he's too big to squeeze by.  

"You alright?" He asks, sounding genuinely concerned. Your forehead furrows but you stop the frown from reaching your lips, "I'm fine." 

"These things give me a headache too," he says. 

How presumptuous. Even if your head is feeling a bit dull. 

"VIP is pretty nice. There's a lounge. I could get you and your friend some passes. Hear they got real coffee too," he gestures to your cup. "I don't know for sure, I don't get to enjoy it much." 

"That's... too nice," you insist. "Excuse me, I gotta find my friend." 

You motion past him but he only moves an inch, "need help?" 

You look at him and shake your head, "I'll find her." You waggle your phone at him and turn, sidling by slowly. At last your free but at the cost of a few drops of coffee as it sloshes in your cup. It's bland. You toss it at the first bin. What a waste. 

You find Bonita near the contest banner. She looks unimpressed as she pouts and crosses her arms. You near as a yawn threatens to break free. 

"What's up?" You ask. 

"Didn't qualify for the contest," she mopes. "So, guess I'll watch." 

"Hm, there's a prize?" 

"Just a gift card but still," she says. 

"Ah, too bad." 

"Well..." she looks around, "how about the raffle? The grand prize is a your of the Avengers compound or something." 

You try not to show your disinterest. She better not invite you to that too. Ha, it's a long shot anyway. You'll humour her for a bit longer. 

"Sure, why not." 

You follow her over to the table. The staff at the table fill out the ballots for you using your ticket numbers. You give your information mindlessly, figuring there's enough people there that you'll forget you even bothered. 

"That's so awesome," Bonita trills. "Can you imagine?" 

You would hate it. You know. You like a museum tour or even a solitary stroll through the library but some good will act for good PR? You'll pass. 

"I hope you win," you say to Bonita. 

"Me too. I have so many questions!" She begins to ramble as you only half-listen. 

As you walk along the booths, your eyes wander through the milling bodies. You squint as a head of golden hair bobs at the far end of the room and pauses. Even on your toes, you can't see enough to confirm your suspicions. What does it matter anyway? Good luck to the Cap finding his way back through these fanatics. You don't envy his lot, you hardly covet your own. 

[yzzart]

day off, and just enjoy!

pairing: tom blyth x actress!reader.

summary: you and Tom try to enjoy your free time with each other's company and competing against each other.

word count: 1.315!

notes: a more domestic, relaxed scenario ran through my head and i felt i needed to write it down. — i hope you like and enjoy

"The right amount is seven cards, right?" — Shuffling the cards, trying to adjust them to be distributed in a random order and not letting any go uncontrolled, your boyfriend asked.

Replying to some messages, and some tweets that Rachel chose to make and tagging you, and then, sharing your latest post on your story, — Coincidentally, in the same second, Tom's cell phone vibrates with a notification. — you take your attention away from the device, turning it off, and direct your eyes to your boyfriend.

"Right!" — Your head nodded in confirmation, and your fingers tapped, lightly, on the wooden table. — "There is another way to play with more cards but I think this is better." — And it seemed to be more complicated and a little more time-consuming, like that, you thought.

It was their time off, some moments of rest and focusing on things and opportunities that could distract your minds. — Since the premiere of 'The ballad of songbirds and snakes', there have been extremely long and very busy days with so many interviews, presentations, participation in programs and premiere nights; which were incredible, brought different emotions to each of the cast and so much pleasure and happiness. — The union, the feeling of everyone being together was unique and inexplicable.

Mentioning that your work schedules are still full was not some kind of exaggeration, and that, with each event, more plans were planned in the future. — After all, it wasn't a lie to say that you were already used to all of this. — Therefore, a few days of rest were more than necessary.

"Here it is." — The cards were distributed in the correct manner and quantity, and those that remained, and which would be used to be bought, were left next to you. — "Just wait a minute, darling." — Tom warned, while taking his cell phone.

While you were organizing and judging your cards, wondering if they could actually lead to a good game for you, your cell phone vibrates as a sign of some notification and, instantly, the screen lights up showing you what it was. — A like on your story from such a familiar profile. — Your lips curved into a genuine and beloved smile, feeling like a teenager in love.

The fact that you and Tom kept notifications on, from your profiles, from each other was cute; at the same time, without wasting a second, as if you wanted to break some kind of record, in any post, among the first likes and comments, your users were there. — Fans thought this was one of the funniest and most beautiful things.

And things like you and Tom were each other's fans were always mentioned in tweets and compilations.

Leaving his cell phone near the group of cards and before picking up his set of cards, Tom looks at you and winks in your direction; you laughed, unable to contain yourself.

"Who goes first?" — You asked, slightly swinging your legs under the table, moving the cards again and waiting for the first round of the game.

"Oh please, ladies first." — Supporting his cards, already organized, in one hand, Tom made a reference to a knight of a certain era with his other hand; your foot poked his calf, finding his act funny.

You started the game with a green card numbered two, after all, it was the color that was most present in your cards. — A possible strategy, perhaps? And you hoped it would work. — Quickly, Blyth opted for a card of the same color but numbered five.

"After the winter camp…" — Tom's voice in a concentrated but so soft tone exclaimed in your ears, taking away, a little, your attention from choosing the card. — "What will be our next trip?" — Still in the same color, you add a number four.

"We need to go through there again." — You commented, reminding him that you said the same thing when you were with him at the table. — "Let me think." — Tom put the same number but in blue, you clicked your tongue, unhappy with the absence of the color in your set.

"So that means you don't have that color." — He laughed, fixing this information in his head; Ignoring his provocation, you bought a card and, coincidentally, it came with the same number but, again, in a different color. — Yellow.

"I'm thinking about spending time in a forest, that has a cabin near a beautiful, huge river." — Indicating, directly and indiscreetly, a reference to the movie's scene, you suggested. — "And an opportunity to fish and jump in it." — Understanding what it was about, Tom's laugh settles in the room and warms your heart.

"Not including hair being dyed blonde, i will be by your side, my love." — Tom bit his lip, continuing to vibrate his laugh, and provoking the fact that everyone was asking, or rather begging, for him to definitely become blonde. — "And it wouldn't be a bad idea, really."

During his answer, he had placed a card with the same number but, of course, with a different color, it was red; and a simple, brief moment of relief because you had a yellow card disappeared into thin air. — Once again, you drew a card and once again, out of pure irony, you draw a card with the same number but colored green.

Maybe, your game was on a good track. — Or your luck was definitely in an ironic direction.

"That's not possible?" — Complained the oldest, with his eyebrows arched and his mouth half open; you shrugged, causing a smug frown. — "Can you tell me." — He placed a card numbered eight and colored green and, quickly, you added another green card with a different number.

And so, the game arrived at a time when there were only two cards left in your hand; accompanied by the intriguing information that they were the same color, green. — Finally, you had an opportunity to play that yellow card, which didn't have a good moment and was prevented from being used.

In Tom's hands there were also the presence of two cards; If they were identical in color, you didn't know that and had no idea whatsoever. — But his eyes were focused on your cards and, soon, he paid attention to your face, observing every point and expression that existed on it. — Along with that sideways smile, without showing his teeth, anxiously waiting for your move.

You weren't betting anything, but in the next round, you will probably go, let alone compete, seriously; however, if an outsider saw the current situation, they would automatically think of a competition. — And without joking or exaggerating.

In a delicate and risky moment, you played one of your green cards; leaving just a card between your fingers and looking deeply into those blue eyes, waiting for his turn. — Tom took, at least a little longer than usual, to play; as if he was thinking about what, exactly, to do. — Oh, another heavy mind with strategy.

However, those two cards, which were left in your boyfriend's hand, form just one thin and small set. — As if it were just one. — And, slowly, they are positioned on top of the card you had placed. — They were two blue cards, twins and with the same number as your card.

"I won!" — Tom exclaimed, with a triumphant smile and moving, just a little and dramatically, the chair away from the table; as he tilted his head in amusement and waiting for something from you. — "I feel like we should have bet something."

"I don't believe." — Leaving the card on the table and crossing your arms, thinking about your mediocre strategy, which passed on a gravel path, apparently, you spoke. — "The chance was between my fingers!" — Tom laughed shamelessly at your reaction and received another poke from your foot on his leg.

"Ready to lose again, my sweetheart?" — He asked, crossing his arms on the table, looking at you.

[kiscon]

The K/S Gazette Newsletter

Greetings and Felicitations, dear K/S friends! Happy New Year! We hope those of you in the Northern Hemisphere are staying warm and that those of you in the Southern Hemisphere are keeping cool. We have so many fannish activities going on. Let's take a look... 1. Submissions for the KiScon 2025 con zine are open now!

It's a new year, there'll be a new con, and we'll have a new con zine! Our brave 1lostone and Alice West are reprising their roles as zine editors and look forward to working with you.  While we know this is currently a contentious topic, please know that AI-generated works are not welcome here as AI-generated material is in diametrical opposition to artistic integrity, based on plagiarism, and a substantial consumer of valuable natural resources.

We are looking for new and never before seen art and writing (both fic and meta!) focusing on the relationship between Kirk and Spock.

You can read more here!!

2. Comments Made Them Do It: the February comment drive

For the month of February, we'd like for you to bring a little self-love into your life. 😏

Think of a fanwork (fic, art, vid, podfic, etc.) you created that you would like to see more interaction with. Maybe it features a tag that isn't as popular. Maybe it just happened to be posted on a busy day and only a few people saw it. Maybe you're just really darn proud of it!

Send your link to 1lostone by email or by Discord message, and she'll post it in the #self-love channel on our KiScord. Then, we'll have a lovely list of recs for people to enjoy. For the purposes of this, we ask that the fanwork has been posted for at least four months and ask that only V'Ger, the creator, send it to 1lostone.

Inspired by and special thanks to the Voiceteam Mysterybox mods for their 'Spread Love' challenge.

3. Kirk/Spock Spring Fever 2025 is happening

Here’s the schedule for 2025: Sign-ups and prompt posts: open until Jan 31 ("sign-up" is only needed for submitting prompts, not for filling them!) Prompt claims and creation period: open until March 10  Works due: March 10  Works revealed: March 22  Creators revealed: March 26 The time for all these steps is: 12:01 AM UTC.

Rules and FAQs can be found on the AO3 collection profile. They are pretty much the same as in previous years, but it’s worth checking them out for a quick refresher.

117 prompts have been collected during January and are now waiting to be filled by authors, artists, podficcers, etc. You can fill as many or as few prompts as you want, and prompts can also be filled multiple times.  There's a dedicated #ks-springfever channel in the KiScord, for discussion and mutual encouragement, and announcements are also posted to Tumblr. 4. Kirk/Spock Advent Calendar 2024 Masterlist Thank you to everyone who contributed to the Kirk/Spock Advent Calendar 2024!  93 fanworks were posted throughout December, by 26 creators; the works consist of 55 fics and ficlets, 26 poems, and 12 artworks. The 2024 collection is now closed for posting. The K/S Advent Calendar will return next year for a new round.  You can find the masterlist (in chronological order) on Dreamwidth and Tumblr. Or directly check out the AO3 collection. 5. KiScon Bingo 2025

KiScon Bingo has returned for 2025! Ping our bingo mod 1lostone to get your card!

You can (and are encouraged to) interpret the prompts in any way you can, in any medium of fanwork you choose: fic, meta, podfic, art, vid, gifset, etc.

You can also participate as reader/consumer of fanworks! Filling your bingo card by enjoying fanworks and leaving comments is a wonderful way to join the fun.

You have until Dec 31, 2025, to fill your prompts. If your fanwork is Kirk/Spock or Kirk & Spock in any universe, and you post to AO3, please use the collection link (or put "KiSconBingo", without the quotes, into the collection field during the posting process)! If you use your card to post something outside of the Trek fandom, that is perfectly fine, but it won't go into the KiScon collection.

The "challenge" comes in here: If the prompt is just something that you're iffy on, you have the option of either ignoring it and filling another line, or challenging yourself to create it!

As for 'filling' a bingo card, it's meant to be low-stress. You can fill any way that makes sense to you. Some examples are: you may create one fanwork per square, or one fanwork that uses a vertical/horizontal/diagonal line, or even a fanwork (or several) that uses everything on the card! The "free" space means you do not have to write a fic for that spot. You do not HAVE to fill every space on your bingo card! Once you fill the fanwork, please post the fill(s) (and the marked out card) in ⁠the #ks-bingo channel on the KiScord so we can celebrate you! See the pinned directions there on how to embed your card in your AO3 submission.

Feel free to use this writing event with any other writing event that tickles your frals. (Some suggestions: K/S Spring Fever and the KiScon Zine!) Have fun, and get creatin'!

6. Spotify Playlist: Last but not least, we would like to rec a beautiful playlist that Romeo made, including suggestions from the KiScord crowd: Pon Farr Night at the Vulcan Nightclub! 

[cmkinkbingo2024]

It’s time to get kinky! Welcome to Criminal Minds Kink Bingo 2024.

The goal of a bingo challenge is to get a bingo on your card, either by crossing out one line, two lines, or a blackout (full card) by creating fanworks for the prompts randomly provided on the card.

This could be a written piece of a minimum 500 words, a piece of finished art, or another kind of fanwork of your choosing.

Please note that this challenge and blog is for people 18+ only.

Timelines/Deadlines

Until sign ups open, we are accepting kink nominations to be included as options via our ask box. We have a list already, but we will add to it if something is missing.

Sign ups start on May 1st 2024 and will be open until May 15th.

Individual cards will be issued by May 22nd, and the event officially starts on May 26th (you can start creating as soon as you receive your bingo card).

As soon as the event starts on May 26th, you can post fanworks whenever they’re created, in whatever place you prefer. You can tag your fills, bingo updates or WIPs with #cmkinkbingo2024 on tumblr. We also have a collection on AO3 for your works here.

You have until July 31st 2024 to complete your bingos!

How Bingo Works

Lines can be made by crossing out squares in any direction - horizontal, vertical, or diagonal. To cross out a square, use the prompt on it to create and post a fanwork.

You will choose from a large list of potential prompts, marking the ones you would be happy to have generated on a 5x5 square bingo card. This will also allow you to exclude prompts you would not be happy to have to create for. 

While that does mean you could create the perfect bingo card, we encourage you to select upwards of 25 prompts, to allow for some randomness in the challenge.

Every card will have a free space in the middle, where you have the option to choose a prompt yourself. 

You can request additional bingo cards if you complete a line, 2 lines or a full house and want to try for a second win!

Rules/Guidelines

No plagiarism, art theft or AI generated content will be tolerated in works for this challenge. Participants/works will be excluded at our discretion in these circumstances.

You can post your fanworks wherever you prefer.

Just like kinks are not always sexual, works do not have to be explicit to be entered. As long as it relates to the prompt, SFW content is entirely allowed. 

Some of the kinks utilized in this challenge will fall under “real world” kinks, and others under things considered a kink in the context of fanwork creation.

You are responsible for how much you stick to the spirit of the challenge - ultimately this is meant to be fun, and to spur people to be creative, and create content for a fandom we love!

Safety/Your Kink Is Not My Kink

Some of the kinks listed may indicate extreme, upsetting, triggering content, or content you personally find immoral, or that “squicks” you. You are ultimately responsible for the content you consume - if something is not for you, scroll past and/or use the necessary blocking/muting features to exclude this content from your feed.

Please make sure to tag and rate all works appropriately for their content, such as using Archive of Our Own’s warning, rating and tag system, or tumblr’s ‘read more’ function.

You can add any fills posted on Archive of Our Own to the collection here.

Please check out the Frequently Asked Questions, or send us an ask if you have another question!

[merlinbingo]

An Unhappy Announcement

Now that round four is over, Sam has decided to step down as a bingo mod. I know I speak for myself and Raven when I say that they will be greatly missed – Sam, your help has been invaluable these last three years, and we are lucky to have had you join us!

A Slightly Happier Announcement

In light of the above, we are looking for someone new to join us! You can find information about what modding our little fest entails below the cut, so if you want more information or think you might be interested, you can drop us a message here, on discord, or via email.

The basics of modding bingo:

We work largely in canva (for making the cards) and google forms (for sign ups and fill submission) and sheets (for tracking participants and fills). That said, you don't need a whole lot of experience with any of these things: we've got handy-dandy templates set up on canva for the cards, and I like to think the spreadsheets are as close to foolproof as a spreadsheet can get (though if you happen to open any of them and immediately find a better way to do something, I'm very happy to listen).

We get a lot of sign ups in January, and then a steady trickle for the rest of the year. The sign up spreadsheet randomly selects prompts based on the categories someone picked, we check the list over to make sure there's a decent number of their wanted prompts and none of their unwanted prompts on there, then copy it to the tracker spreadsheet, pop the prompts onto the template in canva, and then email out the card.

February onwards, the bulk of the work is the tumblr queue. There's a formula on the tracker spreadsheet that puts all the info from the fill submission form into a nice neat html format that we copy to a tumblr post. It's not difficult, but it can be a bit time consuming.

Badges: so far, I'm the one who has done the badges, but if someone artistically inclined wants to volunteer I would be very happy to have the help. We do three main badges (participation, bingo and blackout) and a minimum of five bonus badges (one every two months). In an ideal world, these would go out throughout the round, but those of you still waiting for your round three badges know that this is very much not an ideal world…

Discord stuff: all our participants are lovely people, so mostly all that's required here is answering the occasional question. There's no real requirement for you to be an active participant in the main discord server, though we have a few mod channels where we discuss the technical side of running things and make sure we're all on the same page, plus figuring out what we're doing for bonus badges and card designs and whatnot. It's a nice, easy way for us to communicate with each other, but if you desperately don't want to join I'm sure we could find a way around it.

Think some/all of the above sounds like it might be in your wheelhouse? Drop us an email, or send us a DM here or on discord!

[bloodandthestars]

𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐄𝐘𝐄.

priest!suguru geto x fem!reader. a part of JUDAS, a kinktober drabble series.

tw: talks on religion, smoking :: edit: UPDATED

wc: 2k :: masterlist :: previous part

Sunday went as smoothly as he’d mull over in his head. The sermon was made to be a continuation of the previous one: where to find strength through God in the path of life’s obstacles. With Suguru moving voice and emphasis, the communion consumed and praised Him to be.

Wednesday rolled around, and it was a night of Bible study but more importantly, the potluck everyone was waiting for. Mrs. Kaskai and a few other church women set the picnic tables outside in the courtyard, her husband getting the lights to work around wooding postings. Mr. Weren brought propane for the grill, excited to be cooking ribs he had marinating in the church’s kitchen for a week now. With the Father’s help, they worked together as one to make it all happen for their community.

Suguru clicks a spoon to his glass to gather everyone’s attention. It was once simple click and heads turned without a second wasted. Children were hushed to soft murmurs and babbles, and all eyes were on him. Like they always were. And as always, he presented himself with a smile.

“There’s no doubt in my mind that the food we have here today isn’t like any other. Practically have a few five start chefs among us.” The crowd laughs heartily.

“The effort is seen and worth appreciating, especially with the succession of the bake sale!” Claps and cheers could be heard all around, including the father’s. They simmer down for him to continue. “It’s worth the celebration, so here we are, to bless and be blessed. Let us bow our heads.”

Small groups crowed around the food tables to get their pieces. As Suguru gives a nod of gratitude for Mr. Everest putting some on his place, he glances down to the array of foods. Each with their own signed cards of what was made and by who. His eyes glance over the varied names. His steps slow as they narrow in concentration, wanting to be sure he was seeing things correctly. A dark chocolate cake sat in front of him, with your name signed at the bottom. Did you come through here already? How come he didn’t see you?

He glances around, searching for your face in the crowd. When he came up empty-handed, the priest moves to allow the line to flow again.

The night went on as lively as ever, talking with each smiling patron after the next. He’d smile back, laugh with their jokes, but feel as though he was much farther from everyone than he really was. His words were half-hearted at best. Every now and then his glance takes him outward, looking to his surroundings. After the third or maybe fourth glance around, he eyes figure sitting on top of the hood of a car. A figure he’d recognize from his distracting thoughts.

“Are you alright, Pastor?”

He nods, blinking himself back into conversation with an older woman and her daughter. “Yes, my apologies.”

Those eyes wonder about again after the reassurance was made. Suguru knew the real answer to that question, and the one thing he could do to fix it.

The church parking lot only had about four street lights. You were under one of them, sitting atop your car, with a scent that he knew as clear as day. He shouldn’t approach you. If you looked like you wanted to be left alone, the result would have been just that. But his dress shoes keep their path, walking in your direction. Your head turns when you seemed to notice him approaching. Eyes glance at him up and down, he surely wasn’t mistaken on that. “Evening, Father.”

He greets you back with a mention of your name. Glancing away, he catches how you has a good view of everyone in the courtyard. Looking back, he asks. “Not one for these kinds of things?”

You blow out smoke to the side with a scrunch of your lips. “Not particularly.”

“May I ask why?”

Your smile feels like fingers crawling up his back. “Aren’t you off the clock, Father? No need to try and pull a confession.”

A warmth spreads on his cheeks, causing him to look away with an embarrassed chuckle. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-“

“I’m only teasing you.”

What you pull from your pocket causes Suguru’s mouth to dry. A pack of cigarettes with a slight dent at the top. You pop open the carton, pulling out a stick. You look to the pastor, who watches your hands until he catches your gaze on him. It’s like you’re getting even worse for him to ignore— trading one slight for another.

He nods his head in your direction and you give him the pack. He hears the flicker of a lighter as he puts a cigarette on the trim oh his mouth. It parts, about to ask you for the light, until he feels something grab his shirt. Suguru looks up to catch the end of your cigarette with yours. Your eyes focus on making sure his lights, while his eyes can’t seem to turn away from your face. Not when you were so, so close. His heart picks up in light patters, hoping— praying, it was masked in his breathing.

He could only find himself to relax just as you finished lighting. You pull your head back, hand holding your sitting firm up from behind. Suguru leans his weight against the car with his back to you, entirely quiet.

There he was swirling in a spiral of water that never seemed to end. Why did you do that? The lighter was right there. He was just on the brink of being swallowed whole in your proximity. If only you ate a bit more.

He pulls the cigarette from his lips with shaky hand, blowing smoke off to the side. The silence remained so, but surprisingly to him, his shoulders begin to slack. His exhales become heavier as they roll out every stress of just that week. All in the intimate quiet you two shared.

“I suppose this was a much needed break.” He speaks up behind another inhale. You let your cigarette hang off your mouth as you glance to him. “Even you need breaks from all that religious zeal, Father?”

You were teasing him, he caught on it this time. Suguru laughs quietly, letting smoke follow after. "Of course I need a break," He replied. "As the head of this community, I feel responsible for everyone's well-being. Sometimes it's difficult to look after so many people at once.”

You both took a drag from your cigarettes. Your eyes look to the sky, watching as your smoke dissipates. Once again, you felt yourself be honest on holy ground. “I can’t imagine having to listen to them. Trying to solve every problem they have with a book older than the earth itself.”

Suguru didn’t know if he was supposed to take offense or not. But you weren’t exactly wrong. He knew how the people in the congregation operate. “People don't realize how much they project onto these ancient scriptures," Geto replied, nodding his head in agreement. "They don't consider the context of when they were written and how it may apply to their own situation."

He took another deep drag from his cigarette, exhaling the smoke. You slight your head in agreement. "Some people love to rely on something outside of themselves to tell them how to feel and how to live, I suppose."

What was that that felt like a wound in his chest? Pride?

“You don’t exactly sound like a believer.” He huffs.

“Neither do you.”

Something twists in his stomach. The same feeling of having your hand caught in the cookie jar as a child. He lashed his head to you, you and your calm expression that gives him even more whiplash. You shrug, pulling the tobacco tab from your lips. “Promise,” You finger traces an X over your chest. “I won’t tell a soul.”

Suguru catches your witty smile. Another tease, at least he had hoped with the hard swallow down his throat. Still, you did manage to get an amused exhale out of him.

“I…” He begins, only for his eyes to fall to the ground. His words change. “I just see things a bit differently than some of them.”

“Well?”

The pastor takes a quick inhale. "I believe a priest should listen to the scripture and offer guidance where needed, but also try to instill their own values and morals into the teachings."

You arch your brow. “That just seems…normal.”

He took the cigarette from his mouth, holding it in one hand as he leaned his back against the car further. "Some members think that's a blasphemous way of looking at it," he added. "That I'm perverting their precious lessons."

He laughed, exhaling a puff of smoke.

"I say, what's so blasphemous about using your own brain?"

Your brows quirk together, turning your head to the lively scene ahead of you both. “I didn’t know there were some in your congregation that find you that way.”

"I've learned a lot about my own congregation," He explained. "The members who are devout to the scripture are very sensitive to my every action. Any perceived flaw is bound to become a rumor in these circles."

Suguru paused, taking another drag. "Thankfully, I've managed to build up a good reputation within this community."

He glances over at you, eyes doing a once over before speaking. “To which you seem all the more distant from.”

You scoff, a cloud of smoke harshly pushed onto the air. You take your eyes back to the lively scene. The children playing in the grass, the sun setting behind the fumes of a grill. Chatter and booming laughter. It all seemed perfectly cut out for a holiday card. “I’m doing all this for my mother.” You murmur. “And I know when I don’t belong somewhere.”

He looks back to the ground. Those words sounded like ones that were temporary. He hoped not but the idea of you being here permanently didn’t seem too right.

A nudge of his neatly dressed shoulder snaps him out of his thoughts. His head bounces up to look at you. You were already half way down your cigarette when you talk. “Speaking of…you should go back.”

Maybe those words were his saving grace. A holy light appearing in the confusing darkness, perhaps a blessed creature creating a path to redemption. A way for his thoughts to distance themselves from your consumption. Perhaps your words were a moment of actual divine intervention.

"I think I'll stay with you." He states, almost confidently. “I…enjoy your company.”

The ends of your lips quirk up. Your hand pats a spot next to you on the hood of the car. Suguru looks between before obliging. Once he gets himself situated, he sees the view that she has of the social event. The congregation was in bursts of small groups. There was one person however, going from one group to the next with a slight of urgency. That group looks between each other, one straying off to act like the first— questioning and questioning. Suguru only let out a sigh, not a doubt in his mind what they were looking for.

You notice, turning your head to look at him. Huffing, you throw your finished cigarette on the gravel. He reluctantly goes to stand, running a hand through his hair as your hand pulls another cigarette. You place it at your lips. “Seems that’s your-“

That evening air beginning to settle in seemed long forgotten. You’re frozen in place as you’re met with his cigarette lighting the end of yours. His hands were placed on either side of you on the sleek hood. Suguru stood still between your legs to ensure that it would light— that he wouldn’t throw up his own heart. He simply just— moved. Jumped at the opportunity when it was clear for him. His tab was much shorter than when yours in the beginning of your smoke session, making your faces all the more closer. He could feel your breath tickle his face, just as still as he was. His eyes slowly look up to yours, that have been staring at him this whole time. The look within them changes. One that makes his throat too dry to speak.

“Careful there, Eve.”

tags: @getousrep

[tixdixl]

Happy Birthday Sorrel - TWST Ficlet

A/N: It's Sorrel's birthday!! I wanted to do something for the special baby boy's birthday, even if it's small. This is also a friendly reminder that all the NRC students definitely belong there LMAO.

Word Count: 718

Characters: Sorrel Madrigal (@ramshacklerumble ), Kingsley Tyr, Cater Diamond, Trey Clover

CW: None that I can think of.

Flickering green candle light illuminated the foyer. And as the freshman stepped out into the top of the stairs, his gaze swept across the room. With sweets lining all of the table space and the banner hanging from the stone banister, the space permeated with birthday cheer. And with the atmosphere as it were, Kingsley quickly reaffirmed to himself that he would leave as soon as his mission had ended.  Many fae and a few humans were spattered around the room. His eyes landed on his intended target, the Diasomnia junior standing between two Heartslabyul students. A small glass sat between his small, shaking hands, clutched to his chest as he slouched forward. The trio seemed to be enjoying the moment, though debatable from the perspective of the Diasomnia Junior - Sorrel Madrigal, the birthday boy. 

As Kingsley began to descend towards the party, his boots thunking rhythmically and militantly against the stone planks, several sets of eyes followed his every step. Widening with fear, he noted how their pupils dilated as they recognized his presence. Yet, just as he’d done before, he processed their stares as encouragement - their fear recognized as a sign that he’d held himself just as he intended. Practically commanding the room as he walked, the clamor dwindled into a faded silence. And when he reached the bottom of the stairs, his eyes locked with the deep brown eyes of the birthday boy. He noted the sweat slipping down Sorrel’s cheek, and the tension in his shoulders. But just as he had begun to suspect that the junior feared him just as anyone else, the junior smiled.

“Oh, hey, Kingsley! I’m really glad you came,” Sorrel greeted him with a warmness the freshman hadn’t expected. 

The freshman nodded to him in greeting before responding verbally with, “Happy birthday, Madrigal,” as he held out a carefully wrapped box toward the junior. Though meticulously and cleanly wrapped, the decorations were plain and arguably barren. But nevertheless, the present had been prepared, and Sorrel’s name had been cleanly etched into the tag with blue ink. 

All three juniors stared at the box, shocked by its literal presence. Sorrel’s eyes repeatedly flicked up towards Kingsley’s gaze and then back down again at the box.

“Well, are you going to take it?” the freshman asked, low key tired and irritated with continuing to hold the box out in front of him.

“Ah- I mean, is that–”

“A present for you, yes.”

“...oh, thanks. You didn’t have to,” the junior replied sheepishly.

“Consider it a show of my appreciation. You act more like a housewarden than our actual housewarden, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed,” the freshman stated bluntly. And as the words left his mouth, the room became completely consumed by silence. Many sets of eyes stared, and he could feel them burning into his skull. The diamond card soldier’s jaw dropped, agape from the words that left Kingsley’s mouth. Simultaneously, the Heartslabyul vice-housewarden’s eyes widened. In fact, his glasses even slipped a bit, now sitting crooked on his face. 

The smallest of twitches pulled the corner of his mouth upward. The faintest hints of a satisfied smirk lingered on his face. He’d gotten exactly what he wanted out of this. And hopefully, this interaction would continue to evolve as planned.

After a moment’s pause, Sorrel reciprocated the smile. His own faint, and also equally full of unspoken satisfaction. The junior let out a nervous laugh, seemingly processing everything that was unfolding before him. With shaky hands, the junior reached out and handed his glass to the Heartslabyul vice-housewarden. He took the box from Kingsley’s hands, and tucked it under one of his arms. All the while in the brief silence, he reclaimed his drink from the vice-housewarden’s grasp. 

“Thanks,” the junior continued to smirk, “I’m just trying to do your best.”

“And that’s better than the efforts of some others in this dorm. Take it as you will. And again, happy birthday.”

Without another word, the freshman clasped his hands firmly behind his back. Having completed exactly what he had set out to do - and to a greatly satisfying success, he marched straight back up the stone stairwell, leaving the party and everyone in it behind him. The solitude of the castle hallways greeted him with their familiar, calming stature. 

~~~

Tag list: @ramshacklerumble @elenauaurs @rainesol @starry-night-rose @inmateofthemind

@cyanide-latte @blithesharem @theleechyskrunkly @thehollowwriter @boopshoops

@lumdays @the-trinket-witch @twstinginthewind

Lmk if you want added/removed

[chaandbunny]

Forget Me Not — OC x Kiryu Kyosuke

During the Dark Signer arc. Prototype for a 5Ds rewrite, loosely based on World Championship 2010 that never came to fruition.

So yes, soft launching my 5Ds OC!

Summary: Two ghosts of the past, Kiryu Kyosuke who could never forget and Persephone Caelum who struggles to remember.

Fic can also be found on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62339815

An abandoned clock tower forever stuck in the past, just like the rest of the Satellite. It wore the effects of its ruin with pride just as I did; that jagged maroon brand down my face, the Mark of the Giant engraved into my arm—both undeniable proof of my treason.

The Satellite’s fog had made this place feel like a graveyard. The only form of love inhabiting it were flowers blooming on the outside: clusters of blue, each with five petals and yellow centers. I plucked one flower out of the ground as I let my thoughts consume me.

Yusei…you couldn’t stop at pushing me to death, couldn’t you? Jack, Crow…none of them could keep her safe! None of my former teammates did anything to prevent my Persephone from getting taken away, after they eagerly pushed me into the depths of hell. The never ending torture of Sector Security; the brutal onslaught of their assault, jeering choruses of laughter and sneers at the withered, broken example of their authority. My deck, my pride…all of it, gone! That still wasn’t enough for any of them!

My Persephone…her very essence haunted this place. The one garden in the Satellite, wilted save for the flowers that mourned her. Her D-Wheel had stood without disturbance, neither white or gold left with a sign of rough play thanks to none other than myself. As I ventured into her home once more, my eyes wandered to the artwork that was plastered over rugged walls. The walls were a massive collage of Team Satisfaction’s legacy as we conquered the Satellite; Mixed in were depictions of various Duel Monsters in vivid green forests and towering coliseums amongst clouds, the watercolor just as vibrant as when she first painted each one. And as much as it would satisfy me to scratch through the faces of those traitors, the handiwork of Persephone is the most tangible part of her soul. Our precious memories.

Persephone’s splotched, olive hands and stained clothes never let my mind. The way she would stand on her toes to get closer to the people she drew...The way her wide, brown eyes looked at everything with wonder, and her freckles made her look like that of a deer—Bambi, I used to call her. I yearned to call her that nickname again, hoping that one day I’ll hear her voice rather than the deafening silence that answers it. I want to hear her scold me for being too rough with the plants she used to tend to. How she would erupt into a laugh even if she had lost a Duel, promising that her and her cards would get me back next time.

I refuse to rest in peace. Not until I make Yusei pay the debt he owes. Not until Persephone inevitably comes back to me.

The flower was crumpled up in my hand, a lone petal remaining in my hand as the others fell at my feet. My mark gleamed purple in the dim lighting of her tower. I couldn’t contain my anticipation, grinning ear to ear at the delicious thought of Yusei’s despair. In fact, the thought enticed me so much—a mere snicker had crescendoed into a cackle before I knew it.

Vengeance is mine, I will repay.

* * *

Even if I get a step closer each day, I still feel so far away.

My leads were very few: gut feeling, intense visions, and this worn, folded up paper I kept in my pocket. There were one drawing on each side, the front had a depiction of five people standing together over a building. Two of them were the champions, former and current—Jack Atlas and Yusei Fudo. I had no interactions with Jack Atlas, only the feeling of nostalgia when I saw him on the big screens, followed by a bitter aftertaste. Yusei I had encountered once at the Fortune Cup. He looked like he had seen a ghost, and when he called my name, the words caught in my throat.

“Persephone! Is that really you?”

”Seph, are you okay?”

How was I supposed to answer that first question? I think I’m Persephone (that’s what Divine said my name was). But the way Yusei called me was so … familiar, and my mind’s eye saw a glimpse of him without the criminal mark down the side of his face. That must mean that I had known him from somewhere else, but Divine had ushered—more like dragged—me back to headquarters, frantic in spite of his attempts to dust it off. “That Satellite was just trying to confuse you to get some pocket change. Pay no attention to him.”

Sure, Divine. It was nothing, with the way your gloved nails dug painfully into my shoulder. It was nothing, the way your eyes darted in every direction possible, like a cat almost slipping out of its bag. Nothing at all.

A few hours passed since that encounter. I still couldn’t recall any of the fine details, but at least two pieces of the puzzle were found. Now I have to figure out who was the one with the spiky orange hair and M-shaped criminal mark. All I knew was that face would flash in my mind whenever I would watch children play, the tender feeling soothing my spirit. However, the boy with the pale blue hair…

I had flipped to the other drawing, chartreuse eyes sparkling bright with courage and a duel disk on his arm. I wanted to know the dreams he had that made him duel with such resolve, and most of all…

Why did it hurt to look at him?

Why did my own eyes well up with tears, threatening to stain the page had I not tucked it back in time?

Why were there shards of glass piercing into my chest, leaving punctures I don’t have the means to cure? My head was scratching at itself to get myself to remember, it’s as if his essence itself was begging to be remembered—

“Seph!”

Aki’s distressed voice broke me out of my trance in a way that made me jump, my elbow slamming into a pot of flowers sitting on the windowsill. She had stabled the pot with one hand, which was now slightly hanging off the ledge. The other moved to cradle my arm, caressing the throbbing red skin. “What’s gotten into you? You’ve been in a daze for half an hour! Are you alright?”

That question again. But this time I had to push myself to answer, especially with the way Aki’s normally somber brown eyes were tender and furrowed in worry, “I’m fine, don’t worry about me.” My eyes shifted away from her gaze, sheepish.

“Are you sure? That didn’t look fine to me.”

“I promise, Aki, I just got caught up in my own head again…” I let out an awkward chuckle, turning to readjust the pot on the windowsill while paying no mind to my throbbing elbow.

She raised an eyebrow, and I could tell she didn’t believe me for a second as she drew her hand away. Her gaze saw everything behind my eyes, “It was that drawing again, wasn’t it?”

“These flowers,” I commented, not only to redirect the attention but to observe the cluster. Each flower was blue, with five petals and a yellow center, “what were these called again?”

Her voice was tense, but she had resigned and flowed with the conversation. “Forget-me-nots. They bloom at the beginning of spring.”

“Do they have a meaning by chance?”

Aki looked off, a hand resting on her chin. “I’ve heard they often symbolize true love, and the desire of being remembered…how come?”

I spared one more glance at the drawing, “No reason.”

[darkmasterofdragons]

For 5 months my fiancé endured a rapidly progressing case of gastroparesis with a seemingly unknown cause, 7 different doctors, including 2 specialists hardly did anything to help him, both specialists and all but 1 of the general practitioners were fully convinced after he mentioned he consumed cannabis that he had cannibanoid hyperemesis syndrome, despite none of his symptoms lining up with the disorder and despite them not investigating ANY other possibilities including investigating the medications he was taking. (Additionally for him to develop CHS with the concentration and amount of weed he consumed would have been extraordinarily odd because he only smokes low THC plain flower and in very small amounts, he doesn't ever consume concentrates). Visit after visit he became worse and worse quickly losing his ability to consume any food or liquids, he became severely malnourished and dehydrated, threw up every single time he would eat or drink, experienced severe abdominal pain and bloating, rapid weight loss without trying among many other obvious signs of gastroparesis.

On his final trip to the ER after going several times for his worsening symptoms he encountered one of the worst doctors in our local hospital who is well known for blatantly mistreating and hating queer, disabled and mentally ill folks. My fiancé went in, desperate for help, after he reached the point of not being able to consume a single bite of food without it coming right back up. When explaining his symptoms to the doctor he made the mistake of mentioning that his deteriorating physical health was causing him to experience passing suicidal ideation. This is NOT cause for involuntary admission to the psych ward in any scenario. The doctor turned to him, his face contorted and red with rage and said, and I quote,"Oh so you want to pull the suicide card with me huh? Well I'll just have to lock you up in psych for that." Despite my fiancé explaining that he had no active plans or intentions and was simply experiencing extreme levels of distress and hopelessness due to his inability to eat or drink. When my fiancé inquired about whether or not his stomach issues would be investigated while he was locked up against his will, the doctor expressly said NO, we will not. The doctor left the room briefly and when he returned my fiancé bravely asked if he would follow through with what was an obvious threat and abuse of power (not how he worded it in the moment). The doctor would go on to say,"No, not this time (because legally he had no right to admit him against his will according to Canadian law) but don't you EVER pull the suicide card with me EVER again". This is coming from a medical professional working in an emergency room.

My partner has endured severe mistreatment due to his mental illnesses in our local psych ward and being threatened this way was extremely distressing and left him feeling even more hopeless than he ever did before. The doctor let him go home but did 0 investigation into his issue and all he could do was go home and have a complete mental breakdown. Every single doctor acted like he couldn't possibly have anything but cannibanoid hyperemesis syndrome and forced him to take matters into his own hands.

After barely a week of research my fiancé discovered that 2 of the medications he was taking were WELL DOCUMENTED to cause gastroparesis and not a single doctor looked at his medications or considered that they might be the cause. One of the medications he had been on for over a year and had had no issues with it before this, and additionally he could not come off of it without monitoring from his psychiatrist. However, the second medication he realized he had started taking very close to the time that his symptoms began, it was a tricyclic antidepressant that was prescribed off-label (by a specialist) for migraine prevention and it hadn't been working to stop his migraines for a while, and so out of desperation he consulted with his pharmacist and got the go-ahead to stop taking it to see if it would relieve any of his symptoms.

Low and behold, only 2 DAYS LATER, his symptoms were COMPLETELY resolved. He was able to eat and drink again as if nothing happened. It was no coincidence and it was deadly clear that this medication was the direct cause of his symptoms.

While we felt relief that the fix was so simple in the end, we also found ourselves consumed with anger and grief at the fact that no doctor even suggested that this medication could be the cause, despite it coming up on every list on every website he visited regarding gastroparesis and what can cause it. The ER doctors especially treated him with no dignity or humanity and acted like he was just some insane mentally ill person who was trying to abuse the system.

This piece is obviously a vent regarding this situation and how it felt like we had to literally fight off doctors who saw a mentally ill, disabled and visibly queer addict and decided that he was not worth their time or effort when he came to them with a physical health issue that was slowly killing him.

The Canadian healthcare system is a joke especially for those with mental illnesses and disabilities and if anyone tries to say otherwise they're dead fucking wrong.

[respectthepetty]

Hii, i have been occupied and wanted to come back to watch BLS, my last one was naughty babe. So what's are your current obsession!?

Anon, you have missed a lot in the last six months! BL Land has had several shows in that time, and, of course, I've consumed most of them. My capability to become obsessed with a show is unparalleled, and as I mentioned in my last obsession list, I can be obsessed about several things simultaneously. Since you've been out for a minute, let me recap some of the shows I sent a Valentine's Day card too.

Note: These are NOT recommendations.

Shows I liked for color reasons but wasn't obsessed:

Twins

Pit Babe

Middleman's Love

My Dear Gangsta Oppa

Bake Me Please (* I AM obsessed with the lead actor, Guide)

Shows I liked for the colors AND the plot but wasn't always obsessed with:

The Sign

Perfect Propose

I Cannot Reach You

7 Days Before Valentine

I Became a Lead in a BL Drama

Shows I should've been obsessed with if I was normal:

Cooking Crush

Love for Love's Sake

Cherry Magic (Thailand)

So now that we recapped some of the shows I was mildly normal about, it's time for me to reveal the shows I'm currently so obsessed with that I cut off some of their hair while they slept and now I'm attaching it to a cloth doll in hopes of binding us together.

For. Ev. Ah.

Dead Friend Forever (forever, forever, ever, forever, ever?)

Obsession Level - Buying us matching BFF necklaces with vials of our blood attached to them after my therapist tells me my relationship with it is unhealthy, and I need to take a step back from it.

It just ended, and it isn't a BL, but I have no words. If I tried to explain why I'm so obsessed with this show, people would be really worried about my sanity. I can't stop thinking about it. I don't want to stop thinking about it. I hate all the characters. I love all the characters. I want them all dead. I want to raise them from the dead and make them do it all again. I want to heal them. I want to make them worse. I want to be in that house with them.

Unknown

Obsession Level - Holding pictures of it close to my heart while I lay in bed even though it is laying right next to me in the same bed because I need it to fully grasp just how crazy about it I am and have been.

It's Taiwanese. It's color coded. It's about "brothers." And if you looked at my previous obsessed list, you know those three items are a clear path to Obsession City for me (Looking at you, Kiseki: Dear to Me).

Anti Reset

Obsession Level - Baking all its favorite sweet treats and sitting them on its porch early in the morning then running away even though I know the security camera is filming me each time (which is why I wear cute outfits when I do it).

It's Taiwanese. It's color coded. It's about a robot. It doesn't hit all the points on my obsession scale, but it's part of Vidol/VBL's universe, so it has my attention and a little bit of my heart.

Lady Boy Friends

OB. SESSED! Level - Knowing it's expired and toxic, but I can't stop eating it because if ending up in the hospital is the price I have to pay and possible death, then I guess that's the sacrifice I gotta make.

It's a remake of a 2015 series, it dropped with no promo, and only one episode has aired, yet this show is hellbent on being a whole ass problem, so of course my trashy ass loves it. There is transphobia, homophobia, sexual harassment, colorism, elitism, and every other -ism that it could pile in because the entire show is begging to be everyone's trigger warning. There is a love story in there somewhere, but I don't give two shits about it when the skinny femmes and the fat femmes are fighting, and the one pictured above is about to enter her villain origin story. The subtitler is doing the Lord's work, and I feel truly blessed with this hot ass mess.

But please remember, one person's trash taste is not another person's treasure, so THESE ARE NOT RECOMMENDATIONS!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Burnt Out 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, anxiety/stress, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Robert Laing

Summary: you're stressed out and ready to escape, but the way out might not be as glamourous as it seems.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You flinch as you peel away the hangnail. Ugh. You need to stop doing that. Your hands are a mess. Short nails, brittle too. The skin and cuticles are fraying but not on their own. You can’t help it. A nervous habit. Stress. 

You’re not sure how much more you can take. It’s not a choice. Nothing in life is your choice. You didn’t even choose to be alive. Your parents always treated you like your existence was forced even on them. That barely matters. You haven’t seen either of them in years. 

You still your hands and go back to typing. If you don’t get this done, you’ll be in for another lecture from Mr. Brenner. ‘You haven’t finished the group reservation? You’re going to mess everything up again!’ 

Yeah, yeah. That’s how it goes. You can’t do anything right. It’s probably why you ended up here. You deserve this purgatory. 

As you import the files from the travel site and review for discrepancies, you hear the doors. Great, you’ll come back to it. You check the time. It’s not even noon. More bad news and the messenger is the first to be shot. 

You glance over the front desk and do a double take. Guilt speckles over your cheeks. The man is handsome. Tall and trim. You don’t know why you notice but you do. His blonde hair is neatly parted, yet there’s a small wave to it. He wears a fine grey suit which probably costs as much as a week of your minimum wage. 

It shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t even occur to you. You deal with all sorts. The traveling businessmen, the body builders in town for the convention, and even those meeting for some forbidden tryst. Hotels are not the place for judgement. 

“Hello, sir, welcome to Sapphire Suites,” you smile. You usually only bother when Brenner is around to fume down your neck. “Do you have a reservation?” 

“I do,” he answers in his lilted accent. Oh. Deadly. “I understand I’m well ahead of check-in, however, I only came to inquire if I might leave my bags with you until then.” 

Polite and he reads the fine print. What more could a girl ask for? Usually, you’d be annoyed. Why would you come so early? Our housekeeping isn’t even done their first floor. Not today. He’s too pleasant to be irritated. 

“Well, I can certainly see if your rooms are ready. We weren’t booked up last night so it’s possible.” You offer. 

“That would be wonderful, so long as it doesn’t put you out,” he steps up to the desk as the wheels of his bag quiet. “Robert Laing. I believe I’ve got the executive.” 

You already know it’s ready. It’s expensive and rarely booked on weeknights. It’s only a Tuesday. 

“Let me see, Laing...” 

“L-A-I-N-G,” he spells it out. “No one expects the I.” 

“Oh, thanks,” you backspace and put in the proper spelling. Yep, it’s green. “Good news, it’s set. I just did the keycards so I’ll go grab yours.” 

You go back to the carefully organized folio, arranged by room number. You spent your first hour swipe and coding each one. You take his and bring it back with the liability form. 

“If you don’t mind, there is a waiver,” you put the paper down. “I’ll need a piece of ID as well. And a credit card.” 

“Of course,” he slides out his wallet and provides both cards. You take them as he looks over the form.  

You go to scan both and upload them into his file. You return them as he signs with a metallic pen, slipping it into his front pocket before sliding the page across. You thank him and scan that as well. You come back to hand over his keys and give him the spiel. 

You retract your hand as he looks down at it. You try to hide your chafed and cracking fingertips. You’re mess. Your name tag is barely hanging on and the scarf is crooked and only half under your collar. 

“Your WIFI and room service details are in here,” you point to the sleek little folio with his door cards. “Everything you need should be in your room. The pool is behind me and the private spa rooms can be booked by calling down. Oh—did you need a parking pass, sir?” 

“Please, Robert works for me,” he insists, “I flew in so not driving. Might I put in a request?” 

“Um, okay?” You stare at him anxiously.  

“Any recommendations for in-town activities? I’m egregiously early for the conference and I get restless pent up in hotels,” he drawls. “Perhaps a shopping center or if you’re permitted, any worthwhile bistros?” 

“Geez, I forgot to mention, there’s Ruby’s. The restaurant attached to us, just that way when you head out the doors. They have a patio but it’s getting a bit chilly. And er, the bar, The Gem, that’s on the second floor.” 

“Wonderful,” he covers the key folder with his hand. 

You smile. If Mr. Brenner was there to witness your immaculate customer service, he might just lay off of you. Or he’d ask why you didn’t smile more often.  

“You’ve been amazingly helpful, dear,” he says. “I do hope the day doesn’t prove very hectic for you.” 

“Thank you, sir—Um, Robert,” you correct yourself as his brow tweaks. 

“And you...” he leans forward to read your name tag. “Beautiful name.” 

“Thanks,” you swallow dryly, “enjoy your stay.” 

Finally, he leaves you. You watch him go, his bag rolling after his long strides. You don’t move until he’s closed up in the elevator. You want to cringe. You’re a mess and on top of that, you’re awkward to boot. It’s not that you don’t want to be good at your job, it’s that you hate it, and you’re no good with people. But work is work. 

You retreat into the back room and dig in your purse. Your lips are chapped and raw. You layer on the medicated balm and sigh. You take out the little daisy-shaped mirror and check your reflection. Aren’t you so stupid? Look at you. A man like that would never waste his time with a front desk worker ant, let alone someone so repulsive. 

[pinkmoondoll9shihtzu]

hi miss L, i have a spiritual/religious question and i don't know anyone else who could answer it.... since i was a kid i've been attracted to tarot, spirituality, mystical explanations of the worlds workings, astrology, all that good stuff. i never used to connect my spirituality to a single higher power, and i never had any issues with this. for a few years i've been wanting more than just a disturbingly accurate tarot spread and i feel compelled towards god. i'm not sure how to word it honestly! i keep getting messages all around me telling me the saint that watches over me, and that god is there too. so here's my issue.

whenever i reach out and pray or do any kind of ritual or reach out specifically to god or a saint, my life immediately starts going haywire. yesterday i set up a small shrine in my room for my dead kitty since i've been feeling better about her passing and i prayed a little. i asked for sign that i was going in the right direction, and hours after i prayed, our sink plumbing got clogged, my cat (living) ran out and had to be caught, my mom dropped a whole bowl of food, and i wasn't able to pick up groceries bc the bank cards wouldnt work. this never happens in my household, we've been joking that we're cursed. this happens everytime i try to reach out to god. the worst time was when my mom lost her job, dad crashed his car, and i kept having panic attacks out of the blue for a week. i freaked out and took everything i said back and bathed in salt water for hours hoping i could cleanse whatever happened to me. it worked and my life was back to normal the next day.

do you have any advice? i would love to put my trust in a higher power as i've never been religious before, but smthn is going wrong somehow.

thank you for reading, i love seeing you on the dash and your music is so soothing and nostalgic. much love!! <3 <3 <3 <3

so sweet, and caring, thankyou u//u...im sorry things have been difficult :< The following message does not in any way endorse the claim that i understand God, that God could ever be understood, or that any one of us should every try to understand the -inner workings- of God ! purely my feelings v v v

i relate to ur background cus i grew up w no religion, my parents didnt talk about any kind of woo-woo stuff, my dads dad was woo-woo AF and my dad haaaaated it so he rejected all of it so i was pree much just a blank slate. but for some reason i was just REALLY obsessed w magical thinking and the like. believed in god spirits nature deities angels demons magic aliens and i was totaly engrossed in ~my secret world~. i was kinda scared of religion tho i viewed it in a bad light since i was learning about it during the george bush post-9/11 era & for some reason my child self was rly interested in consuming critique of america , iraq war / westboro baptist church type stuff , from an outsider's perspective i saw religion as something american people used as justification for committing atrocities & crazy power trips , which, i mean.. anyways

it didnt help me trust God xD but many of my beliefs remained into my teens i just didnt have any outlet for them. so i got into astrology around 15/16, started learning more about tarot & occultish type things, crytstals, all those subjects intrigued me very much. but i felt the same way as you, like, something was still lacking from it, even when i got these super profound tarot readings, or read my birth chart a million times over looking for clues about ~wtf is this stupid life for~ , i never felt safe. never felt assured, never felt i could trust myself or my future. it was an odd period, early 20s. but then kinda same as u, as my knowledge on these topics expanded i started to notice the quality of Holiness a lot more. the more i learned about different religions the more i realized how connected it all was, and how religion connects to "the occult", and magic, light and dark, i find it very hard to put into words. i just started to find myself actually really earnestly believing in God in a way i never thought i could? Like reading the bible & being completely enthralled, i NEVER woulda thought. i started to feel way safer in the world even tho im still not "christian" technicaly. but i believe in jesus now and it makes me feel safe on a cellular level.

i believe the real jesus was wholly non judgemental and loved everyone no matter what, the thing that susses me out about Religious Institutions was always the judgement that can spawn from it. misses the point of everrything in my opinion.

its kinda wild actually cus when i used to be into like, trash reality tv ghost hunting shows, i remember there was one ep where this psychic was talking about how she always prays to jesus for protection before doing a reading or entering a haunted place. that really intrigued me cus i thought jesus and psychic automatically cancelled each other out. i think that moment rly opened up the rabbitehole and it was so mundane like wtf. still rememebr it tho!

sorry im really in a typing mood tonight.. So my next point was gonna be that, just because i started to really believe in god and jesus and really PRAY for protection & guidance, my life did not get easier xD like i would say the past 6 years have been nothing short of a shit show. my life was fucked before that too tho so its hard to compare, but still, its safe to say my shift in perspective actually brought a lot of chaos into mylife. the point of it, i feel, is that i had to dismantle it in order to truly Live in the frequency of trusting God. because this was new to me! i wanted to trust God, i put out the energy of seeking God, and God was like ok hold on tight..

So now i'm here all these years later like, oh yeah God is real and i love him and it's all real. it's CEMENTED into me lol. When i used to say i trust God it still felt like i was asking permission to be able to feel that way. but now i really really do. And messed up stuff will keep happening forever because there needs to be light & dark, there can't b one without the other. But now i have faith in a really personal way that i wld never attempt to transfer onto another like even by talking about these experiences & concepts i still feel like i don't want to prove anything. except that it's worth it to keep trying, i guess :]

and OK this is really just how i feel like take it with a grain of salt , but from what i've gathered, if you believe in energy entities & astral happenings & whatnot, well. it's my opinion that the invisible low frequency parasites that feed on many ppl's dread & fear, when they're attached to u and u begin to raise your vibration, they get very upset and throw a fit. like think of a demon being exorcised, u know, u imagine it having a total fit in a desperate fight for it's life. if ur appeasing the demon and letting it use you then of course it's going to keep things on an even keel, u kno?

taking a salt bath was a good thing to do tho like one of the best things <3 its also good to have crosses or your holy item of choice around the house, light white candles, organize clutter. pray a lot like every time u feel happy and safe or notice something beautiful say thanku to God.. talk to your angels and encourage them i pray a lot specifically to strengthen them, upgrade their armor n shih...i ask them to work for my loved ones, i try to be concentrated on them, visualize them around me all the time, visualize them standing guard outside every door. i feel this kinda stuff increases ur Holy EXP and over time your spiritual armor gets stronger, bad entities move on and things in life start really flow. the trust just has to b there first, and it will be, so long as u allow it <3

it just takes time, and like i said i dont want to prove anything or be The Convincer, but if u were already having feelings to go down this path i recommend not giving up and let God carry u through those tough situations instead of seeing them as an absence of God or God's Wrath. just keep praying cus it can't hurt right, even if it's just a way to occupy your mind with kind thoughts about your friends and family, there's no downside to prayer. its your own journey so u just gotta live it and feel it out ^^ but pls dont feel u are being punished by God or demons or anything else! So many "bad" things that happen end up being neutral or even "good" in the long run. We can never foresee the reasoning behind God's plan ~~~

yeah, this was a long one, wow...i drank a energy drink 12 hours ago i think it made me hyper.. well have a swell evening if ur reading this anon!! o also i liek to listen to psalms before bed to help me feel calm i feel like it helps bring in angels. i think i will do so now, thanks for the Q i hope things improve for u very soon. Good night anon < 3 3 3 PMD 9

[blairsanne]

How do you feel about gifts? Are they a family only, close friends, anyone? Do you save gifts for special occasions or just give gifts when you find them? Of course cost is a big factor.

I love giving gifts. I am always finding little things for my nibblings and siblings and parents. My spouse helps too especially for the nibblings. A lot of times it's just something simple like hair care or snacks. Though we have also bought some decorative signs for a shop owner once. She hung them up until she closed the shop.

*Asks are sent for fun, no pressure to answer

I don't often think of getting gifts for people unless I happen to see something and genuinely think of a person who would enjoy it. If it's cheap enough, I sometimes will just buy it for them as a little surprise. But that still tends to end up just being for people really close to me, like my husband or best friend. Mostly I give gifts for birthdays or Christmas.

I do try to get gifts for my family for Christmas, and often birthdays, too, but it's been harder the last few years with not living close enough to visit them to give them the gifts.

My husband and I always exchange gifts for our anniversary (today is our 17th!) and Christmas, and we also get gifts for our birthdays (mine is in a few days but I'll be travelling so he gave me those early). We always give each other wishlists because, frankly, we are lucky enough to be able to just buy whatever we want and the lists make it a lot easier because we know it's stuff we want, and I know I won't put something on my list unless I'm willing to not buy it for myself before Christmas, lmao.

I don't buy gifts for coworkers, and I don't organize the birthday card/cake, either, because I feel that is my boss's job. But I'm always happy to pitch in if something is being organized. We recently had a coworker go on maternity leave, and a bunch of us pitched in for a gift basket of stuff for her for a surprise baby shower before she left.

I do think gifts are nice, but I try to be mindful about not just giving something to someone they will then feel obligated to keep. I think consumables are a good option for that reason (like food, soaps, gift cards; stuff that gets used up). There were some hoarding tendencies in my family home that I personally try to avoid, and I don't want a gift I give to ever feel like a burden.

[dream-meister-translations]

DREAM MEISTER & THE RECOLLECTED BLACK FAIRY

CANAAN CHARACTER CARD #1

━

The Dreamweaver Guild, where top-notch meisters gather to create supreme works of art dedicated to the royal family.

Following the philosophy of: “We are the ones who make the king a king.” The craftsmen of Dreamweaver were, as always, caught up in their busy routines. Well, all except...

EMMA : Canaan.

CANAAN : Hm?

EMMA : Um, is it okay if I talk to you about our work soon?

CANAAN : Hm~

CANAAN : Can I finish this cupcake first?

EMMA : ...Alright, I'll come back later.

After a few tens of minutes, I returned to Canaan.

EMMA : (Cupcake consumed, tea finished... alright…)

EMMA : Canaan, so as I was saying: The next commission...

CANAAN : Hm~

CANAAN : Can’t that wait for another time?

EMMA : Huh!?

CANAAN : Sorry, Emma. I promise I'll listen when I feel like it.

CANAAN : How about another cup of tea? Would you like some, too?

EMMA : No, I'm fine, thank you.

With graceful movements, Canaan tilted the teapot while smiling elegantly.

His demeanor and expression were so refined that they reminded one of royalty.

EMMA : (I can't let myself get distracted! I need to discuss work!)

EMMA : Um, Canaan, when exactly would “another time” be?

CANAAN : Well, let's see. It might be an hour from now, a day, or maybe even a week?

CANAAN : In any case, when I feel like it♪

EMMA : Wah!?

Canaan, had earned a reputation as somewhat of a paragon among other meisters due to his incredible skill and high class sensibilities. However, in reality, he proved to be immovably capricious.

EMMA : I have a deadline to meet, so I'd appreciate it if you could decide sooner!

CANAAN : Yell all you want, I'm still not feeling motivated.

EMMA : If there's anything you need, just tell me.

CANAAN : Anything?

EMMA : Yes.

CANAAN : Hmmm. How about you joining me over here?

EMMA : Umm...?

CANAAN : There we go.

EMMA : Huh!?

Before I knew it, Canaan was prodding at my cheek with his finger.

CANAAN : Wow, your cheeks are so squishy.

EMMA : Um...?

CANAAN : I've been curious about these squishy cushions that so corrupt humanity... So this is what they feel like? Hehe.

CANAAN : It's nice♪

Canaan seemed thoroughly enthralled by the touch of my cheek, and his hand didn't show any sign of letting go. On the contrary, he started to gently push and pull my cheek based on what seemed to be pure whim.

EMMA : Please, Canaan.

CANAAN : Don't move, not yet.

CANAAN : You did say "anything," right?

EMMA : Ugh...

CANAAN : Ahaha, that's right. Just be a good girl like that, Emma. Hehe.

EMMA : You don't have to laugh like that...

CANAAN : Well, it's amusing.

CANAAN : You can shake me off if you want. You're quite serious, aren't you?

EMMA : Because it’s the only way I can get you to listen to me.

CANAAN : And that's why I said I'll listen when I feel like it.

EMMA : But we don't know when that will be, and that's the problem!

CANAAN : Alright, I'm satisfied.

As he released my cheek, Canaan reclined on the sofa and started reading a magazine.

Finally free, I felt relieved, but...

EMMA : You can't just lie down! Please let me talk about our work.

CANAAN : Oh, sorry~ Your squishy cheeks are clearly starting to corrupt even me.

EMMA : What!?

CANAAN : Hehe, it can’t be helped. Go ahead.

CANAAN : Oh, but first, have another cupcake♪

Like a free-spirited and carefree cat, Canaan seemed content to toy with me for the rest of the day.

[sketchyonlooker]

The Case of Akazawa Shiho (DMGBeloved) - Pt. 2 (( Alt Title: Other Yugi Gets a Cult in His Lack of Name ))

--

Domino City was a ghost town; not a single person could be seen. Empty vehicles were left on the streets, doors wide open. Dropped food and bags abandoned everywhere. And yet compared to the subway station, there was actually few signs of death and mayhem.

Maybe a splatter of red here or a limb there, but compared to the bloody carnage underground, the streets were practically peaceful.

Did people get away somehow?

It was hard to believe that everyone was consumed without a trace, not when the monsters below proved themselves to be very messy eaters. Maybe because it was the subway where they were all summoned from? It was hard to tell.

The few monsters she found ended up wandering elsewhere. Those that could fly did. Where they wandered to, she doesn't know, but Japan would likely be facing more misery in the near future.

Whatever kept her and the stray dog she's following invisible continued to work its magic. Sadly, it didn't help the pain from her broken foot, the adrenaline from minutes ago wearing off. Even the walking stick she found didn't help much, but luckily the stray didn't have her walk for long.

The dog started climbing the access ramp of an empty building...

Domino Museum.

Why come here?

She took a step forwar-

Her vision blurred. She blinked several times as what was previously an empty museum suddenly became populated with people. Armed police officers were guarding the perimeter, dressed up in helmets and body flak - hell, she's never seen a pistol in Japan before, much less the rifles she's seeing now. The few families that lingered outside were crying and hugging each other, probably in reunion. The ticketing and reception booth nearby was transformed into a medical center, seeing as that's where people with scrapes and missing limbs were going - she'll probably have to make a visit for her foot later.

There were also many well-groomed dogs here who clearly stuck to their families. Other dogs - the strays - simply ran out again including the one she was following.

Thanks, doggie.

No one noticed her and her cosplay witch's hat in the bustle of the crowd - whether that was the weird invisible thing she got going on or their preoccupation, she didn't know.

...Huh. There's a commotion going on inside the museum.

Given she seemed to still have the advantage of being invisible, it couldn't hurt taking a look first before getting her foot checked.

-----

The Domino Exhibit was still here.

The tablet with the scratched out cartouche.

The Tablet of the Nameless Pharoah.

She had visited the Nameless Pharoah exhibit before, since there were rumors that Maximillian Pegasus was inspired by Egyptian myths to create Duel Monsters.

And then Kaiba announced his tournament.

“Come to the place where the ancient duelists and their cards slumber in the stones.”

She's pretty sure almost every duelist in Battle City had visited this place at one point. And everyone including her thought this whole exhibit was a KaibaCorp publicity stunt for Battle City.

Really, what sort of ancient pharaoh would have the King of Games's hairdo - and the guy with the blue eyes white dragon that looked suspiciously like Kaiba? Ha.

To see it here again though covered in crystal that looked like ice - right here and now - was rather surreal.

However, it's the newest addition to the exhibit that was incredibly peculiar.

A small stone altar filled with money offerings is seen in front of the tablet. Carved into the altar is a strange symbol that looks like a spiky crescent moon surrounding a star.

In front was a passionate middle-aged man wearing a Duel Disk and loudly preaching to a large crowd. The people around him were quietly hanging on to his every word.

"Do you see? It is the Nameless Pharoah that protects us all! He has delivered us from the evil monsters! Pray and leave offerings to our Pharoah - as symbolized by the trinity of Ra, Slifer, and Obelisk - the Sun, the Moon, and the Star!"

He punctuates his point by vigorously waving his hands towards the ceiling.

"Sir! Do you think the Nameless Pharoah will save the world?" said a child. One of the kid's parents was also notably wearing a Duel Disk.

"Of course!" the zealous man said, "The King of Games has clearly reincarnated after millennia to duel this evil! And have joined forces with the King of Dragons - the Blue Eyes King - as well!" He points at the tablet depicting the Pharoah and High Priest. "Why else would this museum become a sanctuary? Why else would the dogs - the agents of Anubis - bring us here?"

"Do not doubt his deliverance!" he announced to the crowd, his smile kindly.

"And now behold the miracle of the offering!"

The man places an apple onto the money-filled basin on the altar.

Immediately, a young girl with long black hair, no older than 10, popped out from behind the altar and snatched the apple, sending some of the bills flying. The girl in rags quickly started chomping on the apple to the gasps of the crowd.

"See! Our mortal money has no use in the Underworld. The best way to show our gratitude is through food and drink, so the gods too may feast!"

Wait what? Wasn't it just a girl eating an apple?

Chomp chomp chomp.

What was a little surprising was that the young girl devoured the apple completely. Didn't even leave the core or stem behind. But that didn't constitute anything spe-

The girl suddenly locked eyes with her, and her breath immediately caught in her throat. The gaze wasn't hostile, more curious than anything else. But it carried a sense of growing pressure. Bearable at first.

And then others - many that she couldn't see but rather felt - joined it.

Her knees buckled underneath that enormous weight, like getting crushed by the sky itself.

She wanted to take a breath, but the pressure on her chest was too great. She wanted to scream for help, but nothing would come out. Her body, her consciousness - her everything - felt like it was being constricted from all sides. And just as everything began to get dar-

Riinng.

A familiar tone.

The feeling of being squeezed out of existence stopped, and color returned to her vision. Her breaths came out in ragged gasps as she was allowed to breath again. Something in her phone buzzed weakly, but she ignored it in favor of the very dangerous creature in front of her.

The figure now staring at her...

Her heart dropped into her stomach. She can't remember what it looked like - just like one of those internet creepypastas.

In its place was a dark shadowy silhouette shaped like a girl.

Even without a face of its own - it definitely did have a face before - she could tell it is still staring at her curiously. However, its attention is quickly redirected to the banana that was placed on the altar.

A second silhouette immediately popped out from the altar itself - like a fish hopping out of the water. It eats the banana, skin and all, in one bite to the gasps of the crowd. It stops to look at her briefly when it lands before sinking into the altar again. The first one - she gets a sense it's a bit miffed - also disappears into the altar.

"Bear witness to our offerings descending to where the gods lie!" continued the man, face red with fervor. "For the Nameless Pharoah!

The crowd cheered on.

"For the Nameless Pharoah!"

"For the Pharoah!"

"For the King of Games!"

"Save us Nameless Pharoah!"

No one can see the creatures she's seeing, could they? Otherwise there'd definitely be more of a panic here. Otherworldly creatures - in their supposed safe spot - would probably not go very well right now.

She's also certain that whatever is protecting them right now is not the Nameless Pharoah.

After all, that sound...

Wait, didn't her phone buzz before?

She opened up her phone.

...A notification from the Stream chat.

[ You have been made Unknowable. ] - 17 min ago [ You are no longer Unknowable. ] - 12 seconds ago.