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If you ever, and I mean EVER think that you fucked something up royally, remember that the organizers of the 1904 Olympic marathon:
- Had zero stations for water on the 26 mile (42 km) course
- Accidentally gave North American competitor Tom Hicks a cocktail made of egg whites, brandy, and actual fucking rat poison
- Had a guy come into the race late wearing a beret and cutoff slacks, sneak into an apple orchard during the race because no food had been given to him for 40 hours, eat rotten apples, projectile vomit onto the track, fall asleep for hours, and finish in fourth place OVERALL because most of the other runners collapsed of exhaustion or injuries
- Conducted the race on a dusty road, which caused so much dust to be kicked into the air that an American runner somehow inhaled enough to tear his STOMACH LINING open
- Accidentally released feral dogs onto the track
- Fucked the other competitors up SO BADLY that Tom Hicks—the guy who ate RAT POISON and was HALLUCINATING the entire run—came in first place
Hello lovelies 💚 I hope you're having a stellar July so far (I am...not...but that's alright. Nevertheless we persist and all that yadda yadda etc etc.)
Surprisingly, I have a fic nearly ready to go! It's my Watford-era amnesia fic that I may have mentioned a while ago. (I actually can't remember, how appropriate.)
Here are six+ spoiler free sentences for you, from Simon's POV:
"Penny, we've been at this for literal hours," I remind her.
"And yet I notice you've yet to accomplish anything." Baz's drawling voice carries through the wood behind us.
I reach for my sword and nearly jab myself in the side with my wand. I don't have a good place to keep my wand. (I don't have a holster like Baz.)
I brandish it in front of me like it's a weapon, instead of a glorified twig. It feels too small.
A spoiler and tags below the cut:
Here's the spoiler that the Ao3 tags will spoil for you anyways: this is a fake amnesia fic. How does that work? Simon would also like to know, but the Mage has banned the internet at Watford so he just believes Baz when Baz says he's lost his memory.
Anyways, I still need to double check all my commas and come up with a title but hopefully that will be up by Friday!
+ anyone else who wants to share what they've been working on 💛
(also it's been forever since i've properly gone through this tag list, pls let me know if you're no longer in this fandom, or you want to be added/removed/italicized/etc)
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it's a shame how the audience of agott's constant aurafarming are just her two teachers-slash-parental figures, two best friends-slash-sisters, and her crush who has too many things on her mind to even consider romance
Lol I'm a little late but I wanted to try my hand at it anyways. This started as just the Backless Olly but then it got away from me...
Outfit is loosely based on this design
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So the evidence implying Qifrey and Olruggio are romantically interested in each other is pretty well documented (myths, tassels, the entirety of witchen) but, I haven't seen as much about the scene that really seals for me that Qifrey wants to fuck Olruggio.
What happens literally is that we cut from baby Qifrey reaching for Olruggio and transforming, to adult Qifrey with his hand fisted in his lap, determinedly not reaching for Olruggio. And then he gets up and goes to stand in a lake and trigger his own PTSD to get the silverwood under control.
What happens symbolically is a guy thinks really hard about another guy, gets wood experiences an uncontrollable throbbing growth which fills him with horror and shame, and then he goes and stands in cold water until he can get it under control.
Completely insane scene construction. Yes, I know how the silverwood's growth is literally triggered, but sometimes a train going into a tunnel is the public transport system working as intended, and sometimes it's self-conscious Freudian symbolism.
Sometimes an evil parasite is an evil parasite, but sometimes it's also getting rock hard for your best friend.
ALSO A DADDY LONG LEGS is different in the UK vs USA. I learned that by arguing with some Brits because they said there was a daddy long legs on the wall, i looked and only saw an insect, argued with them all for 45 minutes until we all looked it up and saw that we were both correct.
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SnowBaz I E I 19K, complete I Fairy tale AU, arranged marriage (of sorts), vampire Baz, cursed Simon, mutual pining, fluff, Simon just wants to kiss his husband in peace but the bloody court etiquette gets in the way.
Summary:
“The prince can have his pick,” the Mage replies calmly. “Anyone he wants. We will organise a ball, as is traditional in my kingdom. All the noble ladies of age will attend, and Prince Basilton will be able to choose his favourite.”
“Anyone?” Father asks. He already has someone in mind.
I look at Snow, desperate and foolish as I am, and I can see a similar panic mirrored in his eyes. Or maybe I’m imagining things. Maybe I just want to believe that he cares about me even a fraction of the way I care for him.
“He can choose anyone,” the Mage concludes.
A big big thank you to @alexalexinii, my artist for the @carry-on-big-bang, for picking my story and for the wonderful illustration they created for it and for the fantastic banner in this post! Thank you so much!
A shiny thank you goes to the brilliant @fiend-for-culture for being such an amazing beta.
Additional thanks to the mod for running the fest for another year, and to @pato-roldnart for putting up with me (you're a saint).
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kaledo-art
germansingergirl
origamiaround
baratheonpilled
ellievsbear
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turnnoffyourmind
