#no shame just spreadsheets
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MADE SOME NEW TROUBLE FOR US ALL
If you go to this site
http://www.tinyurl.com/omfg-ofmd-meta-bingo
you can get to the new, the shiny, the still-needs-work-but-fuck-it-let's-ball:
now you may be asking
what the heckity heck is this
well
1. The "Random Card" link on the site will take you to a spreadsheet that will auto-generate random bingo cards from, as of today, a startling 717 unique square options
I'll tell you right now, refreshing that spreadsheet is like eating potato chips, holy shit.
2. The "Make Your Own" link, on the other hand, will let you lovingly craft your own card using, again those SEVEN-HUNDRED AND SEVENTEEN options
3. or! you can fill in your own squares
4. and you can choose your center square AND header image because god forbid I not be absolutely extra
5. Clicking the "Generate Discourse" will pop up a link to your pretty pretty bingo card:
6. Hit Ctrl+P to print to PDF or print to, uh, your printer-- and then do the whole thing over again if you like, as many times as you want. GO NUTS.
7. For instance, consider! With the ability to choose your squares or fill in your own, you can not only make a card of your Real Sincere Theories for the second season, you can also go full feral and make some truly blessed/cursed cards, like this All Gay Romance All The Time variant:
or you could commit this felony, a Darkest Timeline variant:
or, to be honest, you could probably just fuck around a wee bit and create a wonky-looking drinking game:
BUT THAT'S NOT ALL
8. The site also features, on the sidebar...
... so. much. data. The help docs have a running list of the squares available, the development log is for anyone who wants to see my madness up close and personal, and the feedback form is clearly a mistake waiting to happen.
SO YES. Enjoy! Send me suggestions, send me errors to fix, keep an eye out for updates, and post your cards because I WANT TO SEE YOUR META FEELS.
#our flag means death#ofmd#ofmd bingo#ofmd meta bingo#bingo generator#fandom bingo#no shame just spreadsheets#...lol#can we hit 1000 options before the second season drops#I believe in us
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WIP Game
Tagged by @jaggedstartalk, who I forgive because she doesn't know what she's done (🧡🤣) and @frostbitebakery, who I do not forgive because she knows EXACTLY what she's done LMFAO
Rules: Make a 24-hour poll with the names of your wips, let it run, then write one sentence for every vote the winner received.
I KNOW I KNOW THE LAST ONE IS SO PREDICTABLE I JUST LOVE ME A WALKING THROUGH THE UNDERWORLD AU T^T
Pressure tagging @oathkeeperoxas (because they LAUGHED AT ME IN FROST'S COMMENTS 😂); no pressure tagging @asukaskerian, @hawkeykirsah, @doodledrawreblogs, @rain-sleet-snow, and @elwenyere
#wip game#poll#adi is a writer#this is an UNFORTUNATE amount of icemav#to be fair the codywan are just the ones I can be convinced to work on there are... more#am I going to have to start a spreadsheet for top gun?#the real questions#the process#was gonna tag the ships but honestly I don't want that many people to see my Shame LOL
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#2023 is the year that I get my finances and my financial trauma sorted out#because it’s either this or it kills me and I’m all done leaving myself open to being killed#have to do a lot of hard work realizing how bad the money stuff was re: hours per week of being trapped in the kitchen with 1-2 people#damning me if I did and damning me if I didn’t#and one of them constantly watching my bank account because they had access till I was 25#and all the fear they put in me and how they trained me to sabotage myself for them#NO MORE#it is not as scary to just face the hellish nightmare zone of loans and debts and not enough money for butter or dog food or whatever#than it is to not face it and live in guiltridden fear all the time#at least with the first option I have itemized spreadsheets I can take to debtors and a bankruptcy attorney if needed#I’d love to find a second job again but it’s been pretty hard#but regardless#no more avoidance NO MORE AVOIDANCE avoidance and shame don’t get me anywhere#the only thing that will is holding hands with the shame and the terror#and if all goes well#maybe I’ll be able to finally get my root canal and other cavities done 2 years late#and also rebuild some savings#mostly just I gotta do this or I’m going to give myself high blood pressure and an ulcer by the end of the year I cannot handle a mother#year of looming financial threat#it’s getting sorted out this year or not at all#and I’m all out of accepting ‘not at all’s#shh katie
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been starting to put together a spreadsheet to compare the number of fics archived to each website, and it's just like... man those fandom history posts weren't kidding; ao3 was not built with the weebs in mind LOL
#i have more categories to include eventually but i obviously have to fill out the backlog for them... c':#bc Obvs. harry potter will be a really big factor in this dataset! its existence on ffn alone rivals the total number of anime fics there!#plus there are movies n comic books n stuff... eventually i will need to reference a comics expert or smth to help judge#which fandoms are worth including on my spreadsheet for smth like the mcu on ffn. or even god forbid rise of the brave tangled dragons#i would also like to someday go back n start digging for more indie archives for cartoons n tv#but that's also why aside from cartoons n mlp i'm leaving the dig for indie archives for last#(bc w/mlp it would probably be like. an actual statistical sin to leave out fimfiction.net LOL)#it's also such a shame that wattpad doesn't allow for wayback machine captures... i need that!!!! i need that data!!!!!!!#anyway.#spreadsheet babbles#i should make a tag list reference. just for myself at this point
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what in the. LMAO
#went (torrented) the b*rbie movie. girl what was that even lol.#makes a world where barbies aka women 'rule'. which then gets translated into the misogyny of the real world ->#'lets take things back to how they were' when patriarchy gets established in barbieland. meaning you think the system was good.#the system that you equated to patriarchy...... lichrally what👁👁#also the allan doll just kinda....... it gave me vibes of 'they tried to include nb rep' but like...... they just didnt adress it at all id#bc he didnt fit into either barbies or kens yknow. idk i just wanted to see how bad it was gonna be in comparison to how much its been hype#and as expected it didnt live up to the standards. such a shame i have to put it in my 'movies watched' spreadsheet honestly#it wasnt worth it. thank god i didnt go to the cinema for it or pay for it lmao#xarraire
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can't fucking believe vent is still down. where else am i gonna yell about being ill
#anyway it is Day Two and. i feel better in some ways but worse in others#had the worlds most disrupted night of sleep and now i'm coughing a lot more than yesterday and it sucks#but my throat feels less sore for sure. feels like my body is fighting this thing off super hard 💪💪💪💪 shame about the full body aching#and overall lack of energy. ooouugghhh and the lost voice of course. but this always fucking happens#i'm gonna have to pass on games night tonight if i'm still coughing a lot and/or still missing my voice#but aaaauugghhh the love of my friends will surely heal me like nothing else. unless they make me laugh and send me into a coughing fit#rambling#my god yeah thats one of the worst parts of being ill. cant watch anything that makes me laugh. im fucking dying of boredom here#sure there's other stuff to watch but no funnies and no video games when that's all i want rn. havent watched any more flapjack in DAYS#it's nowhere near as bad as covid so this is entirely unnecessary but i am once again getting thr urge to document my symptoms#with a god damn spreadsheet. but it's not as complex at all so eh.#i can't say too much about how much better i'm feeling just yet tbh bc i'm still back in bed hfkdhgkdh i can walk sure#but i need to go downstairs and make breakfast soon which is the REAL first hurdle#also the question of am i ready for toast again or do i need to stick to porridge just to be safe#not gonna lie. i didn't love the noodles i had yesterday so i'm wondering if i'll have the appetite for something else#i want a sandwich so fucking bad but i don't want to eat dry bread at the same time. aaauuggghhh#my sibling offered me a hot chocolate last night and i had to turn that down bc chocolate plus cold for me is a big no#but aaauugghhh a nice warm drink probably would’ve been rlly nice#i return once again to announce that got damn! i feel notivesbly better than i didn an hour ago and my voice is like 30% back!#which means that by tonight i might very well be at a functional enough level to hang out with friends after all#i can always dip if my energy levels tank again or whatever but like honestly hanging out with them is like. i need that#the last two days havent been great and i miss them and we have a lot to talk about so yeah i will do everything in my power#to be there tonight. but i will not force myself or push myself too far. bc i am the king of self care 💪💪💪#god sorry back again but. it continues to fascinate me how any kind of illness affects me in the same ways consistently regardless of what#kind of illness it is??? right now i have whats mainly a cough which is honestly rare for me when i get ill#it's usually more in the nose department and sometimes the throat but rarely the chest#and yet 9 out of 10 times i lose my voice. i Always struggle with low energy (altho thats a problem outside of being ill too jfdjgdhfhd)#have a hard time falling or staying asleep and i get nauseous if i sleep laying down enough#but also i am the king of hard and fast aka i get like 24 terrible hours and then recovery is super quick. i'll be back to 100% health in#less than a week. my poor fucking step dad has been in stage one for a WEEK it's really awful. but i have the power of youth on my side 💪
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nothing more validating about getting buzzy brain about something than double checking to make sure your Very Niche Thing You're Interested In has an AO3 tag. I'm not the only weirdo out here obsessed with This One Specific Guy's Extended Universe, thank god.
#i will not be sharing more about this fandom or my involvement on here but just know#that all my other writing projects are still in the works they're just on the backburner#while i obsess deeply about a Specific Guy's Voice#and his incredible worldbuilding#HE HAS A WHOLE WEBSITE JUST FOR THE TIMELINE OF EVENTS#i'm slowly creating my own spreadsheet of the characters to make sure i keep my fan-version of the universe in order#but learning he already had compiled where things went in chronological order made my heart so happy#i hope to be as good at this as he is#listen i carry the shame of being a teen online in adult spaces during the early-mid 00s whose parents made fun of them for everything#the fact that i shared my YYH brain buzzies with y'all is frankly a miracle
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if carmy bear were your boyfriend
If Carmy Bear were your boyfriend, he’d pretend he doesn’t want to cook for you, when, really, it’s just about the only thing he thinks he can do for you. He’d say, “What, do I ask you to make spreadsheets for me when you get home?”, but he’d already be rolling out the homemade pasta dough.
If Carmy Bear were your boyfriend, he wouldn’t be able to watch MasterChef Junior, because it would break his heart when the kids cry when they’re sent home.
If Carmy Bear were your boyfriend, you wouldn’t wear his shirts after sex, or as pajamas, or any cute, boyfriend-y things like that. This is because all of his shirts always still smell, vaguely, infuriatingly, like garlic and onion. No matter how many times you run them through the wash, no matter whether or not he’s ever even worn them to work. You just can’t do it. He can keep his stinky shirts.
If Carmy Bear were your boyfriend, he’d be very good at meticulous things, like building IKEA furniture, and chess, and that surgery game. He’d be abysmal at practical things, like wrapping gifts, and emotional vulnerability, and general housework.
If Carmy Bear were your boyfriend, he would really, really like your dog. He would sit on the sofa with your dog – where your dog is not allowed to sit – and watch Julia Child cooking shows.
If Carmy Bear were your boyfriend, he’d claim not to be funny, but sometimes he’d add to the grocery list on the whiteboard in the kitchen, something like: XXXL condoms for Carmy’s enormous cock.
If Carmy Bear were your boyfriend, you would become an adventurous eater because he would ask you to try things, and chase you around the house with them at the end of a fork if you refused.
If Carmy Bear were your boyfriend, he wouldn’t like your friends. You’d say, “Well, maybe you’re just jealous because you have no friends outside of work, and I’m not even sure they like you, half the time.” A friend would come over for brunch, or something, and a bit of gossip, but maybe she has a bit of a habit of mentioning the same subject over and over again. Carmy would stand behind them mouthing numbers, keeping track of just how many times. And it’s not funny, it’s childish, but you shouldn’t laugh out loud, so it makes you want to laugh anyways.
If Carmy Bear were your boyfriend, he’d take an hour to pick something to watch on Netflix and proceed to fall asleep within the first five minutes.
If Carmy Bear were your boyfriend, you would ardently encourage him to cry. Like, really cry. “A real cry would be good for you, I think; there’s no shame in sobbing.” “I know, baby,” he’d say, “I know there’s no shame, it’ll just… happen when it happens.” And it would happen. The sob would come, eventually. You’d be sitting on the couch, telling him about Laika, and he would suddenly break down into a fit of tears that would wrack his whole body. The kind of wail that gives you a headache afterwards. It would be about the dog, at first, but then, an hour later, he’d still be crying, telling you about his childhood, and his brother, and New York. This would only happen, though, like, many years into your relationship.
If Carmy Bear were your boyfriend, even though you’re both aware he could do with a more healthy sleep schedule, you would wake up in the middle of the night and poke him. “CARMY,” you’d loudly whisper, “ARE YOU ASLEEP?” “Yes,” he’d grunt. “I’m getting a snack.” “K.” “… can you come with me?” And he would, not having the heart to make you feel guilty for wanting company at 1 AM. You’d sit on the kitchen island, holding hands with a snoozing zombie and chewing on the Nutella sandwich he’d made for you.
If Carmy Bear were your boyfriend, he would make pots of red sauce on the weekends, and make you taste all of them. He wouldn’t bogart the kitchen, either, and he’d give you the room to carry out your own (inevitably inferior) attempts at cooking. “No, it was good,” he’d insist, as you stared at his unfinished plate. “Just good?” And he wouldn’t know what to say, because he’s not gonna lie and say it was extraordinary or anything. So he kind of just doesn’t say anything, and, eventually, you drop it, a tad annoyed.
If Carmy Bear were your boyfriend, you’d tell him not to set the fifteen consecutive alarms before going to bed. But he would, and, in the morning, he would fall deeper into your arms and nuzzle further into your neck when each one went off. By, like, the eighth alarm, he’d throw his phone across the room. “Shut the fuck up!” he’d growl. When you giggled at his rage, he’d grab at your sides and pull you into him. “I told you not to set the alarms, Carm, you’re not a morning person.” He’d simply grumble in response. You’d ask him how he managed in New York, and he’d reply, ominously, how there was no slumber from which to be roused.
If Carmy Bear were your boyfriend, all his tales of culinary school would be told in a shaky voice, as he stared blankly into the middle distance, as though he were recalling his time in the war.
If Carmy the Bear were your boyfriend, he would know that the only proper way to be woken up on a Saturday morning is by the smell of French toast he’s making, delivered to you on an old-timey silver platter he found behind the dumpster when he took out the trash earlier that month.
If Carmy the cutie were your boyfriend, he’d tell you, “I’m sorry. I can’t talk anymore. I’ve been yelling all day.” This would also be his implicit way of saying he can’t bear (haha) to cook dinner, but he wouldn’t be able to say that part out loud, because he feels a bit useless when he gets so worn he can’t even cook. You’d assure him that it’s fine, and prepare something comforting to eat – he’d actually clean his plate, because he’s that exhausted. While you’re at the sink, he’d come up behind you and tuck his face into the spot where your neck meets your shoulder.
If Carm-Carm Parmesan were your troubled little boyfriend, you would find little things you had mentioned an interest in – just casually, in passing, during unremarkable conversations – turn up around the house. “I heard you mention it, and it was on the way home,” he’d say, only after being pressed into a confession. “Honestly, it wasn’t anything.”
If Carmy Bear were your boyfriend, when you visited the restaurant, Sydney would not be sorry you were there.
And before Carmy Bear became your boyfriend at all, he would have gone to therapy to map out a healthy work-life balance.
#the bear#carmy berzatto#carmy the bear#carmen berzatto#carmy x reader#the bear imagine#if x were your y#inspired by the toast#i wrote this ages before s2 and was worried it wouldn't hold up#but most of it did lmao#character study?#carmen berzatto x reader#parm 4 carm <3#girl dinner
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Glossy Nails
NEW NAILS, to feed your inner magpie 💅
I meshed this shape way before the war started, maybe in 2021. Those who follow me long enough have seen it posted as semi-abandoned WIP. Only 2 fingers were finished back then. I recall that somewhere in 2023 I wasn't feeling okay, so I opened this project and did the rest of the hand to occupy my mind with something. When I got back to these nails a couple of days ago, I realized they were basically done, just needed minor adjustments.
When I bake textures for my nails, I don't know what they're going to look like. Head empty. I play with materials and environment maps until something I personally like shows up. And since I'm a magpie, I end up going for ✨shine✨ Priorities.
I still haven't figured out the new preview style and had to use the old mediocre one. It's either I do this or these nails never see the light of day. Would be a shame to keep them in the basement any longer. I can't make proper use of them, but there are people who can.
I was so excited to add the 8th entry to my nails spreadsheet, and I finally did. But the sheet is going to break again soon because I'm already working on the next nails. At least they're fire.
DOWNLOAD (EA)
PATREON | INSTAGRAM | PINTEREST
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Your alien husband shows you his assets
General Plot: Idreod literally has a lot of assets and he shows them to you.
Word Count: 1.5k
Kherae alien (Idreod) x female reader with glasses
🌶️ NSFW MASTERPOST 🌶️
W: some violence, sfw alien fluff, yandere vs. yandere, forced marriage, breeding talk
“No examine that figure again, (Y/N),” the archduke muttered, tapping the ledger with his long finger.
“I’ve looked at it four times,” you griped, “there must be some mistake!”
“There is no mistake. Look again!”
You huffed.
“I’ve looked and looked. It’s as if you have a hidden account or something!”
You paused and looked at him.
“You do have a hidden account! That’s why the numbers don’t match up!”
He smiled at you.
“Good, you figured it out.”
You frowned.
“But how is that legal?” you asked.
He shrugged.
“It’s not, but the punishment for breaking the law is less than the benefit of having the account stay hidden. In a time of war, you will want to have assets arranged that the monarchy can’t seize. If the accounts were to be exposed, it’s not treason. The penalty is just a small fine that’s easily paid.”
You stared at him.
“That’s bold,” you said.
“It’s simple business math,” he explained, “until they change the law, but we lobby heavily to keep it as it is. It’s worth the money we spend ten times over.”
You nodded. Your husband was a little bit evil, it seemed. He used the same tactics as any human corporate giant.
“Okay, so where is the rest of the assessed value here and here?” you asked, pointing to a few lines on the spreadsheet.
He grinned. He’d been doing a lot more of that since your kiss in the garden. You tried to keep your mind off of it, because if you thought too hard about it your cheeks got hot.
“I’m going to show you.”
He gathered you up by the shoulders and led you to the private elevator that led to your quarters, but instead of going up, you went down.
When you paused in front of a large door, he asked for your hand.
“This is keyed to my bio-signature,” he said, placing your hand on a pad to the side, “and now I will key it to yours.”
He pressed a few buttons and the door in front of you opened. The room inside would put Scrooge McDuck’s treasure room to shame. Gold bars were stacked in a solid wall on one side of the room, while alien art stretched up to the cavernous ceilings. There were cases and cases of jewelry and gemstones resting in black velvet. Armor and antiques were strewn about.
“There is another vault like this on Akhet,” he said, leading you into it.
“Another one?” you asked.
“Yes, Since we are integrating with human women I believe the majority of human-Kherae relations will be conducted on Earth in the future. Most families will probably be raised here for the mother’s comfort, so it’s worthwhile to keep considerable assets on this planet.”
“You’re always thinking of a rainy day,” you commented.
He frowned at you.
“I don’t know what the weather has to do with this…” he said.
You smiled at his perplexed face. It was very cute.
“It means to prepare for the worst,” you explained.
He nodded.
“Yes,” he said, “our family has survived war and famine because we prepare contingency after contingency. The only thing we did not prepare for was the Golt, but we have survived that as well and now there’s hope for the future.”
He looked at you thoughtfully and you quickly looked away. He meant your womb. You were going to be carrying the future heir to the Zovith fortune. You smoothed your dress, nervously.
“Good to know,” you said, turning your attention to a sparkling ruby necklace.
“You can take anything you like,” he said almost bitterly, “none of this has any sentimental value to me.”
He fingered a large opal hilt dagger.
“It’s all just the spoils of war and conquest,” he murmured.
“You don’t have any family heirlooms?” you asked, “I don’t want to take something that belonged to your mother.”
He shrugged.
“I never really knew her,” he said, “she died when I was too small to really remember her, just after Dessin was born. If anything here was hers, I wouldn’t know.”
He picked up a diamond tennis bracelet and fastened it to your wrist.
“Perhaps I’ll grow some attachment to these things if you wear them,” he said.
You swallowed thickly.
“Oh”
“Come,” he said, leading you to a framed chart on the wall.
“This is the Zovith family tree,” he said, pointing to one area, “this is the King. As you can see I am the nephew of the king, which means if something were to happen to him, I would become King.”
You looked at him a little nervously.
“Is anything going to happen to him?” you asked, delicately.
He chuckled.
“No, I’m not ambitious. I can move much more freely as Archduke,” he assured you, “but I wanted you to know the gravity of your responsibilities.”
You nodded.
“I think I understand,” you said, “you want me to bear the heir to the Zovith family.”
He looked down at you, his eyes flashing.
“I want you to lead the Zovith family,” he said.
–
When you were finally able to reach your room, you collapsed on the bed. Idreod had put you through your paces, making you meticulously review all of the Zovith’s family’s many assets. You wondered if the next day would be just as exhausting. At least there wouldn’t be an impromptu proposal.
You examined the ring on your finger. It wasn’t a run of the mill solitaire ring in the highest carat available. Instead it was a lovely antique with silver filigree. Small diamonds set in scallops surrounded a large central cushion cut diamond. You wondered if he had picked it out himself or if Airies had. It was so unique, it felt like it couldn’t have been arbitrary.
There was a knock at your door and you winced.
“It’s open,” you called.
The door opened to reveal Dessin and you frowned.
“I’m not sure you should be coming here like this,” you said.
He walked in anyway, but lingered at the opposite wall.
“I only want to talk,” he said. He looked down at your hand.
“That’s a pretty ring, did he give that to you?” he asked.
“It’s my engagement ring,” you said, feeling defensive for some reason and pulling it to your chest.
“He must have pulled it out of the vault,” he said, waving it away, “he doesn’t normally care about things like that.”
“You don’t think too highly of your brother,” you commented.
“He doesn’t think highly of me, either,” he said, scrubbing a hand through his hair, “he might be putting on an act for you, but my brother isn’t a good guy.”
You bit your lip.
“Well he’s certainly not warm and fuzzy, but…he’s surprised me today,” you said, because it was true.
He chuckled darkly, but oddly his face brightened.
“Enough about my brother,” he said, crossing the room and sitting down next to you on the bed, “I want to learn about my sister.”
You pulled your knees to your chest and looked over them at him.
“What do you want to know?”
“What’s your favorite color?” he asked.
You laughed.
“Really? That’s what you’re going with?” you giggled.
He huffed in mock derision.
“You can tell a lot about a person from their favorite color,” he said, “if it were pink I don’t know if we could be friends.”
“What’s wrong with pink?” you asked.
He grinned.
“Purple is better,” he said.
You laughed, your eyes gliding over his purple skin as he probably intended. What a flirt.
“I guess I have to be on team purple from now on, don’t I?” you asked, playfully.
He was silent for a moment and his hand lifted a bit of your hair. He examined it for a second.
“You don’t have to marry him you know,” he said, quietly.
You looked at him.
“I do,” you said, “I have debts.”
He looked down.
“My brother thinks he can buy anything he wants,” he grumbled, holding the lock of hair to his lips, “I don’t want him to have you.”
You put your hand on his wrist, gently pulling your hair back.
“Don’t worry about me,” you said, “please.”
“I’d do anything for you (Y/N), but not that,” he said.
You couldn’t hide your red cheeks.
“Um…I’m tired, Dessin. I think maybe you should go,” you whispered.
His eyes searched yours for a moment, then his usual cheerful self returned.
“Of course, sister,” he said, smiling, before leaning down and kissing you on the cheek, “goodnight.”
When he was gone, you clutched the covers, while you tried to get to sleep after turning the lock on your door.
—
“What do you think you’re doing Dessin?” Idreod growled at his younger brother as he dragged him out of the hallway where your room was located by his horn. He’d heard about half of your conversation and he didn’t like it. When they were far enough away that you couldn’t hear he slammed his head against the wall.
“Tell me what you think you are doing!” he demanded, holding him by the collar.
“You don’t deserve her Idreod,” he spat, “do you really think you can just buy someone? Are you an Ozil?”
“What do you know about it?” Idreod hissed, “you hop from bed to bed like a louse. You don’t know anything. She’s resilient and responsible. She will make a perfect archduchess.”
“But she’s not yours.” he insisted, “you purchased her, but she doesn’t belong to you.”
“She is mine,” he growled, “she’s accepted her future and that’s with me!”
“You’re going to break something precious and irreplaceable about her and you will regret it.” he snapped back, “You can’t give her love. I can! Let me have her! I’ll hand over the child you want.”
“You’re an idiot,” he shouted, his fist making contact with his chin. Dessin groaned and spat blood.
“You always have been! You have no sense of duty. Do you care what you are doing to (Y/N), confusing her? Do you know what those humans will do to her? They will sell her to an Ozil. Can you protect her from that or are you just playing with lives you have no real care for? You don’t know how to do “serious” Dessin, so stop acting.”
He jerked him up by his hair.
“And stay away from my fiance,” he hissed, before punching him in the stomach and leaving him on the floor.
“If I find you in her room again, I won’t be so lenient,” he called over his shoulder as he stalked down the hallway.
#alien fluff#sfw alien fluff#monster fluff#yandere fluff#yandere male#alien x reader#x reader#monster x reader#yandere x reader#exophelia
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mayprompts2024 #16, experiment
Read parts 1-11 on AO3 here
Part 12 only on tumblr so far
++++++
The Perfect Place - Part Thirteen
John put the skull back on its place on the mantelpiece and pointed at the dagger Sherlock had stuck into the wood to keep several letters in place. He frowned and gave Sherlock a disapproving look.
“You shouldn’t keep such a sharp dagger in the wood.” John chided.
Oh dear, here come the admonishments, Sherlock thought.
He braced himself against what John was likely about to say. “It’s dangerous to keep a sharp object here. People could get hurt.” Or “You’re destroying the wood, it’s difficult to repair damage like this.”
John continued. “It’s really bad for the blade, it’ll get dull, you know? Also, the tip might break and get stuck in the mantelpiece. It would be a shame to ruin such a fine dagger.”
“Erm, okay?” Sherlock stuttered, surprised, “Yes, will do.” Not what I expected.
When John peeked under the sofa, he pulled out the Turkish scimitar that Sherlock had already missed.
“Oh, great, you found it! I’ll be needing it tomorrow.” Sherlock called out happily.
“What for?” John brandished the scimitar and made some thrusts into Sherlock’s direction. “You going to waylay guileless travellers?”
“No, of course not.” Sherlock decided to test John’s sense of humour. “I’ll need it to chop the remains from the latest flatmate-candidate. He insulted Billy and therefore he had to die.”
John looked Sherlock straight into the face, utterly deadpan. “Good then that I didn’t. Also, you’d better use this letter-holding dagger for precision cuts through the corpse’s joints.”
They stared at each other for three long seconds before they exploded into raucous laughter.
For the next ten minutes, Sherlock watched John hopping excitedly around the sitting-room, ogling things, pawing bits and fondling bobs.
It was an amazing sight of utter joy.
Sherlock was reminded of a toddler experiencing their first Easter egg hunt in a magical wonderland. He suppressed the urge of handing a basket to John so that he could put the found treasures inside for later perusal.
(Others might have been reminded of a squirrel suffering from dementia, getting excited over and over again about finding the same nuts it had hidden juts several minutes ago, thinking they were new.)
(And yet others would have thought of a cuddly hedgehog searching for windfall like apples and pears to gain weight for the next winter.)
John commented on every mysterious, unusual, weird or quirky object that he picked up, showing it to Sherlock and silently asking for more information, data that Sherlock was more than happy to provide.
“Are you needing a cup of tea as bad as I?” John asked after a lot of talking, “I’m parched.”
(Also, his throat was terribly dry from all the dust he had inhaled while scrutinizing Sherlock’s things.)
“Let’s make some,” Sherlock offered, “and you could have a look at the kitchen.”
Sherlock put the kettle on while John first commented on the lovely choice of green tiles on the kitchen wall and then asked about the array of chemistry equipment on the kitchen table.
“I’m doing a lot of experiments here,” Sherlock explained, “to gather data and evaluate clues in order to solve the crimes that I consult on.”
(This was true, of course. Also, it sounded much better than the whole truth. Namely, that Sherlock followed mostly some whims he had when he was bored and just experimented with whatever was available to him. He had produced mountains of laboratory journals with millions of spreadsheets of data that nobody would ever use. Like one of his latest obsessions when he had tested the durability of mummified Guinea pig embryos after being exposed to various kinds of acids and then thrown against a bed of nails.)
“What is it you’re currently experimenting on?”
“I’m measuring the coagulation of saliva after death.” Sherlock replied and poured the hot water over a teabag.
“Interesting.” John said. “I’ll get us some milk.” He reached for the handle of the fridge.
Sherlock suddenly remembered where the saliva had come from and an electric shock of terror struck him.
“No, don’t open…” he began to shout.
But it was already too late.
“… the fridge.” Sherlock whispered.
John’s shriek reverberated in the deadly silence that followed.
+++++
tagging some people @calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @lisbeth-kk @peanitbear @raina-at
#mayprompts2024#calaisreno#number 16 experiment#my sherlock fanfics#the perfect place#no beta we die like (wo)men
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hey i’ve read someone wicked 3 times and it never fails to leave me emotionally distraught for days afterwards (compliment!) the epilogue literally rips out my heart every time. this is going to sound so stupid, but why did you make the choice to keep simon in the escort business alongside being in a monogamous relationship? i completely respect that it’s a professional career, but def a hurtful/unsustainable one for someone in a relationship, and simon’s not really sticking to it because he HAS to (he has other profitable skills, weldwork, construction, etc). so why did he stick to it even though they’d both be better off without?
Hello! So, first thank you, I'm very glad you enjoyed the fic enough to read it multiple times. It's very near and dear to my heart.
This doesn't sound stupid. Writing it, I did realize that people would wonder about this. And that some people would feel quite negatively about it. But it was very important to me that the end of this story not be Simon leaving his job.
I'll try to condense my feelings about it as much as possible but this will probably be long.
This story is about a lot of things, but one of those things, one of the most important things, is about freedom from sexual repression. Baz comes to Simon in the beginning of the story all bottled up about his sexuality and the act of sex itself, even within the context of masturbation. He has a lot of shame around all of it. It's mirrored throughout his life in his schooling choices, how he interacts with family and friends.
Simon represents freedom for him, and through their relationship and his acceptance and love of who Simon is, all of who he is, he comes to accept who he is and what he wants. I felt very strongly that it'd be disingenuous to tell a story about escaping shame around sex just to turn around and say that Simon has to leave his profession of sex work to pursue a romantic relationship. That his work, since it's sexual in nature, is incompatible with it. We wouldn't expect someone in any other profession to leave their job, their security, to pursue a relationship.
I did not go into it, and maybe I should have but I also had feelings about the need to justify his decision, but ultimately it was not reasonable for Simon to immediately leave his job, even if he wanted to. He does make art, but the art he makes requires expensive materials, and it's slow to create and slow to sell, and he's in his early 20's in London. He needs a steady income. He came to work for the escort service because it offered him good pay and protections (sex work is legal in the UK) with very flexible hours, and allowed him to actively pursue art on the side, something not a lot of other jobs could have given him. I think about how hard it is, simply writing fanfiction and doing fanart for fun, and I often lose sleep trying to do all of it.
Could Baz have afforded to take care of both of them? Probably, eventually, but they didn't immediately live together, and Simon wouldn't have wanted to be financially dependent on Baz. That's no good for a relationship either, not a new one. In my mind, once they move in together and pool their income, Simon spends more time in the studio, less time doing escort work, until he feels secure enough to move to art full-time.
I do agree that this is a particularly difficult job to have alongside a monogamous relationship. That's one of the main reasons I wanted to have that in the epilogue, them learning how to make it work. I did a lot of research about this by reading accounts from sex workers on message boards and how they approach their own relationships, and while this is complicated it's not at all uncommon, and you can still thrive.
The main thing I learned is that it is not a romantic profession. Many people who do sex work talk about it very much with the same level of titillation I might talk about my excel spreadsheets at work (maybe even less, I love excel) There is a disconnect that most people have with the work that they do, even if parts of it are fun, and parts of it are fulfilling. I tried as much as I could to honor that perspective.
All that being said, it's okay if you didn't like it or agree with it. I don't discount that for a lot of people, this doesn't work. It's not a fairytale ending. But it just felt like the right ending for me.
#someone wicked#artsyfic#ask#hopefully i articulated this well#ive literally had hours long conversations about this decision with a number of people#its hard to distill
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Hi Fen!!! Popping in to ask what you think the moon boys’ hobbies would be (if they weren’t so busy moon knighting). (For Steven, I feel like studying ancient Egypt is more like a passion, so like what else do you think he’d be into?)
K. Love you! Byeeeee.
IDJIDHVDHFH Oh my gosh, I love this ask so much! Thank you so, so, SO much for sending it! ❤️(ILY!) Did I think about this at work for a good 1 and 30 mins instead of working on a spreadsheet? No, of course not, I would never do that… 👀
I have narrowed it down to one each to save everyone from seeing my absolute madness.
Moon Knight Boys Headcanons & Hobbies
Rating: PG Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?
Warnings: Swearing
Steven: Cooking
Okay, here me out. So, I’ve seen opposite ends of opinion on this one (both are valid) but I’m going with Steven is a very good cook, and he likes cooking.
He’s been vegan for a while and it’s only in the last couple of years that food places have really been trying with vegan and vegetarian options that aren’t salad… bread… (chips if you’re lucky) So, I think he enjoys making lots of different recipes.
It started out with him just making vegan ones and then, over time, became him changing other recipes to make them vegan and coming up with his own.
Absolute master at vegan cakes, no one can ever tell the difference, and, in fact, a lot of people compliment him on ‘the best cake they’ve ever had’, ‘so light and fluffy? How do you do it?’ “Well, that’s the secret, innit?” (whisk the aquafaba like your life depends on it and sweet potato)
Steven is absolutely horrified by the food Marc makes himself. (Plain chicken, rice, spinach)
“Where are the flavours Marc? At least some herbs? Spices for fuck’s sake? I can’t believe you’re eating plain steamed chicken?” (He doesn’t even care that it’s meat, it's just the lack of flavour.)
“It’s boiled chicken actually.”
Steven loses his goddamn mind.
“I don’t care what bloody macronutrient you are monitoring, you are not eating that.”
It’s not that Marc can’t cook, he just doesn’t see the reason to put the effort in when it’s just for himself (doesn’t feel like he deserves it.)
Steven grumbles to himself and refuses to let Marc cook his own dinner if he can help it. “If you’re going to eat meat, at least treat it with respect, yeah? Bring out the flavour?” He usually preps something for Marc, so he can cook it quickly when he’s hungry.
Makes so many cakes and pastries for Jake. Leaves them in boxes with ‘Jake :)’ written on a post stick note on the top. Jake is always so touched and surprised when he does. They have taken to playing a little game where sometimes the food is vegan and sometimes it’s not and Jake has to guess. He’s more accurate than most people, but it still only averages around 70% right. (69% if we’re being exact, and Marc is sure Jake’s messing with the correct statistics on purpose.)
Marc: Fantasy Baseball and Fantasy Football
Literally takes it so seriously. Has spreadsheets filled with information and pours over every single statistic like it holds the answers to the universe. It only got more intense when he found a forum for people with the same interest and he literally will spend hours talking online about it.
“It’s not about getting the best players, it’s about making the best team.”
Jake has joked that he puts Steven and his love for history to shame and if those spreadsheets weren’t saved on the computer Marc would have boxes and boxes and folders upon folders of printed out info and then there would be zero space in the flat.
When Marc annoys Steven, Steven tells him to “go play with your pretend american cricket and american rugby” to piss him off.
(Marc retaliates by incorrectly pronouncing UK places.
“Steven, maybe we should take a trip to Ed-in-b-row”
“It’s Ed-in-bruh.”
“How about Sus-SEX or Es-SEX?”
“It’s Sus-SIX and Es-SIX.”
“I do love Green-WITCH at this time of year.”
“IT’S GREN-ITCH! Jake, you're from New York, how is Greenwich pronounced?”
“I’m not getting involved.”
“Ha! That’s because he agrees with me!”
When things get really heated, Marc threatens to make a cup of tea in the microwave. Steven says he doesn’t care because he makes coffee in the microwave all the time and it’s fine. Jake puts an end to it by saying hot chocolate tastes best with water and then laughing when both Marc and Steven gang up on him.
“I cannot believe you think that mate.”
“You know how many different types of milk there are?”
“Absolutely disgusting.”
“Cow, goat, soya, almond, coconut, literally any of them instead.”)
Jake: Knitting
Wanted something to keep his hands busy, that he could pick up and put down, and that he could take in his cab when he was stationary and waiting for fares.
Took to it a lot quicker than he thought it would, and can just zone out and knit. It helps keep him grounded.
He feels like he has spent a lot of his time destroying and there is something so satisfying about being able to create.
Once he mastered the stitch he quickly moved onto making clothes. Before Marc and Steven knew about him he used to knit jumpers for Steven and hide them in the wardrobe.
Jake makes Marc a cartoony style baseball jumper that he also loves, and a thick cardigan for Steven that is covered in hieroglyphics (he spends months researching the language to get it to make some sense, and works in a dig at Khonshu in there and has Steven crying with laughter.)
When they know about him Steven excitedly requests the “most garish and over the top Hanukkah jumper anyone has ever seen!” Jake does his best, presenting it to Steven (and trying to hide how nervous he feels) Steven loves it and refuses to take it off all winter.
Most people think Jake has a stern glare when he wants, but you can never be sure if he’s planning your destruction or trying to work out how many balls of wool it would take to make someone your size a jumper.
____________________________________
Thank you for reading!
Taglist: @pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @welcometostayingawake @mbakubabe @solobagginses @melodygatesauthor @romanarose @pimosworld @jake-g-lockley
If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here
#steven grant#moon knight#moon knight mcu#marc spector#jake lockley#headcanon#headcanons#hobbies#my writing#fanfic#oscar isaac#oscar isaac characters
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Samuel Seo x Reader: Office time thief
"And how is that relevant to work?"
Samuel's voice drifts over your shoulder. Shit. You jolt and bang your knees against the desk, the thud echoing across the floor. Double shit.
Anyone that hadn't already clocked the commotion and the presence of their President would have now. Taps on keyboard and murmuring dying down; the eyes of the entire open plan office burning into your head.
Caught red handed. You would have tried to hide your phone under the desk but alas.
You look up to see your boss's unamused face. An eyebrow arched and lips thinned at you wasting company time.
"And?" He prompts.
Goddamn him. Your cheeks flush at being told off like a kid with their hands in the cookie jar. Is he going to confiscate it next?
Bowing your head in shame and tucking your phone into your bag before he gets any bright ideas, "... Sorry Mr. Seo."
Satisfied, he strides away into his office.
Honestly. That asshole.
Twenty minutes later, just as your eyes are starting to glaze over picking through numbers on a spreadsheet, your office phone rings. Saved.
'Samuel Seo' flashes across the screen. Maybe not.
With a sigh, you answer after leaving him hanging for a tad longer than usual. It's the small wins that count.
He wants to see you in your office. Right, you roll your eyes, of course he does.
.
.
"Mr. Seo, you asked for me?" The door closes with a click. Blinds already drawn and giving him privacy from prying eyes. What can you say, presidential privileges.
"Shouldn't you know better than to respond back to me during work hours?"
Samuel's hands and lips are all over you, voice low and husky in your ear.
"Sorry Mr. Seo." Clipped, terse, professional.
Like you're going to make this easy for him. It was humiliating, especially when it was your boyfriend that messaged you first.
"Don't be mad," Samuel draws back when he notices your lack of response. Even trailing kisses on your neck didn't work. "How about I make it up to you tonight?"
"..."
"Dinner? Then my place?"
"..."
"And that bag you've got your eye on?"
Is it really your fault that your boyfriend is loaded and likes to spoil you? Is it really your fault you're swayed by material goods? Really. No. It's society's fault. Goddamn capitalism and all that.
Besides, it's the least of what you deserve having to put up with being this guy's partner and for keeping your relationship under wraps.
"I want it in black."
"I'll get you one in every colour."
"...Fine." You thaw, angling your cheek for a kiss and Samuel complies.
"Now get back to work, I want those reports in the next hour."
"Excuse me?!"
#i thought i already wrote something similar huh#lookism#lookism headcanons#lookism x reader#lookism hc#lookism manhwa#lookism webtoon#samuel seo x reader#samuel seo#seo seongeun#seo seongeun x reader#lookism fic#lookism fanfic#wannaeatramyeon
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Saw a thing, got grumpy, am taking the high road and not commenting in a reblog. But.
Part of not kink shaming is not shaming someone for who they find attractive. You can’t claim you support all the kinksters and monster fuckers and deviants and furries, and then turn around and ridicule someone for wanting to fuck Generic Male Actor #5 or Airbrushed White Woman #3
That’s not how this works. Either you support people liking what they like, or you don’t. Is it SSC? Then back off. Just because you think it’s bland or boring doesn’t mean you get to mock them.
Yeah, sure, fine, you’re “””edgy””” because you want to go down on a cereal mascot while hogtied and covered in wax, I don’t care. I support you, live your best life, but I don’t care. If your fantasy is one of the Chrises spilling your coffee at the shop and you fall in love and have missionary sex under the covers with the lights out? Still don’t care. Still support it. If the ultimate fantasy is 12 hours of true crime while taste testing international snacks with your partner and updating a spreadsheet? Hell yes, you do you, bestie.
Just because you’re the one choosing what is and what is not okay to lust after from the far end of the spectrum doesn’t make you different or better than the prudish zealots claiming your fox tail plug is unacceptable.
Neither of you are sex positive.
Is everyone consenting? Is it safe, or at least RACK? Are the people who are currently doing That Thing™ enjoying themselves? That’s all you get to comment on and judge. Pass judgement on anything else, and you can shut up about being sex positive.
People demonstrate love in different ways, Susan. Kinktomato covers vanilla sex and kinky sex, Ebony Dark’ness. It’s none of your damn business, Reginald. Kink and let Kink, edgelord.
Let. People. Enjoy. Things. They. Like.
And shut the fuck up.
#sex positive#ykinmkato#love is love#seriously that post made me so mad#I do not care if someone’s crush is ‘basic’#I do not care if their fantasy is ‘vanilla’#fuck all the way off with that#if you get to enjoy your thing without shame?#then so the fuck do they
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Every time I see some Taika slander on this app, I block. And I don’t even care about him because I have no clue how he is in real life, but I have enough of the bullshit. Taika is a Zionist? Block. Taika’s fault for whatever-pick-anything? Block. Taika is an evil man? Block. Taika doesn’t do enough to promote ofmd? Block. Taika did this and that in his private life? One, how the fuck would you know, random person who lives in Germany? Keep your nose out of his goddamn business. Second. BLOCK. Let’s celebrate Taika’s shows ending one after the other? You guessed it. Block. Someone literally said Taika’s ancestors are rolling in their grave in shame. Bloooocccckkkkk.
I have no words, this is vile. And this public character assassination has gone on for way too long, from medias and randos on the internet alike.
Those people who gloat and say the most horrendous things need to get off their moral high horse, clean in front of their doorstep and go outside to touch some grass. I don’t know why they’re so spiteful but they need to heal their soul. They’re keyboard activists that are looking for trends to be mad about so they can pretend to care and be morally superior. And then they can harass others. They don’t care and they can’t fool me and they can fuck off. Blockity block block block.
God… I got heated real quick. Sorry about that. But for real, I hope he stays the hell away from social media.
yeah i've blocked literally dozens of people in the last 30ish hours and the vast majority are people who have never watched ofmd who decided to go into the tag and post about how happy they are that the 'racist tv show' that's 'run by zionists' is cancelled and 'the zionists' are now 'unemployed'. or people who are casual fans of ofmd who were like 'meh s2 was bad and you could tell taika was bored of it'
it's just so fucking stupid. i hate this whole mentality that people are either 100% perfect and morally pure or they're evil and every bad thing that happens to them should be celebrated. i hate that people are so desperate to blame taika when the show wouldn't fucking exist without him. i hate that people are so confidently stating shit like 'david should've known taika couldn't commit for 3 seasons' like fuck that parasocial ass shit you don't know any of these people! imagine if it was the other way around and the cast started posting shit on twitter like 'lol lyse jaskierx should lose her job bc i can tell she's bored of spreadsheets'. it's ridiculous
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