#self-indulgent longpost

[mercurial-cool]

💜Ambrosia Progress Update 💜

Hello lovely Bloodweave community! Since my last post was me nearly four months ago saying that a new Ambrosia chapter would likely be coming by the end of the year (lol), I just thought I'd pop back in here to give a quick little "proof of life" post and reassure anyone still wondering that, at least in theory, it still has not been abandoned -- I just took a little time away from working on it for various reasons.

[That's the important part of what I wanted to share, but I'm inserting a cut below for some additional self-indulgent rambling for anyone who wants a bit more context.]

One reason for the hiatus was that my job got crazy towards the end of the year, which both took away from my writing time and also my BG3-playing time, making it harder to jump back in and capture the characters' voices as accurately as I felt I could when I was playing more regularly. And the other, more recent and much sillier reason is that I accidentally and unexpectedly stumbled into an obsession with Formula 1 and had some writing ideas for that fandom that my brain demanded that I act on immediately... so, if you subscribed to me for Ambrosia updates and get a notification soon that I've de-anoned 45k words of (AO3 member-locked) Formula 1 RPF, I am so sorry for the possible bait-and-switch lmao. (But congratulations to the, like, three other people who might exist with me at the center of the Venn diagram of those two fandoms haha... I'd love to know if you're out there!)

I'll admit that I've felt guilty for doing that other writing while Ambrosia was still unfinished. I've never had anything I've written come anywhere close to the level of popularity that Ambrosia has reached, and it was something I've truthfully found a little overwhelming at times. At the very least, it's prompted me to feel quite a bit more anxious and perfectionistic about whether any new chapters I put out "live up to" the bar that's been set by how much people have enjoyed the previous chapters. None of that is to diminish how unbelievably appreciative I am of the people who have taken the time to read and comment on Ambrosia -- I still read and am grateful for every single comment that comes through, even though I've done a shit job of responding to them lately (another source of no small amount of guilt).

But I think I needed to take some time to do some writing that didn't have the self-imposed pressure of quite so many eyes. And now that I've done that, I'm excited to return to Ambrosia refreshed and with a healthier perspective. I know better than to actually try and give a timeline this time around for when the next chapter might be out, but just know that I'm once again actively working on it, and I'm very excited about some of the writing that I've already completed. :)

Thank you (and/or I'm sorry) to anyone who bothered to read this far, and hope you're all doing well. <3

[leqclerc]

Top 5 drivers most likely to NOT be returning to their current teams in 23? In your opinion, of course. Also, where you think they'll be going (another team, kicked out of F1, retired)

Ohh, excellent question! 👀

TL;DR:

Nicky (dropped) Seb (retirement or team switch) Yuki (dropped??? maybe??? idk) Checo (dropped or shock team switch) Zhou (probably not but I’m running out of options and honestly I have no clue sjdjfj)

The list gets more and more shaky as it goes on tbh sjdjf Nicky and Seb seem the most reasonable, Yuki’s a toss-up given RB, and the others are unlikely imo but for the sake of putting five names down... sjdjfgr More in-depth explanation/rambling under the cut:

Right off the bat, Nicky. I believe his contract's up at the end of this season, and, well, he hasn't exactly impressed so far, especially against Alex, who's sat out an entire year and yet is performing significantly better. The question is how much is Williams relying on the sponsor backing and money that he's bringing to the table? If they wouldn't be taking a significant financial hit, I think they'll drop him, especially now that they've got more options to choose from (Alpine loaning out Piastri if they re-sign Alonso, de Vries just did a FP with them, other drivers from the current grid, etc.)

I'm gonna be honest, I'm on the fence about Seb. I was way more confident about him staying on for another season last year, but lbr the circumstances were way different (new regs, pretty much an unknown for all of the teams, a chance to shake up the grid, etc.) But this year is looking much more dire by comparison, especially now that the green Red Bull B-Spec car isn't looking like too much of an improvement on their initial package. AM has generally been under-delivering, both on a technical level and also on a managerial level (accounts of Lawrence's stifling micromanaging, the staff rotation). So, if we're being pessimistic, I'm gonna say (and it pains me to say this, on a personal level, trust) retirement at the end of the season. They wouldn’t even have to look very far for a replacement, I believe they’d just settle for Hulk rather than looking elsewhere. BUT if we're being optimistic, I would kinda love to see him paired with Alex at Williams 👉🏻👈🏻🤧 Of course the question is how much of an upgrade would that be? Or would it be more of a sideways/even backwards step? He’s not there to be a backmarker, he’s said as much himself, there’s not much motivation or joy to be found in that. But hey, at least the team spirit and attitude seems better at Williams than at Nepotism Central 🙃

Based on his own comments and the general hype around him, I can’t really see Fernando wanting to leave. What the team decides is another thing, a driver’s desire to stay doesn’t always result in a contract extension (😭💔), but as things currently stand I can see Alpine loaning Piastri out to have their cake (not “waste” him) and eat it too (keep Alonso on.) Lewis, George, Max, Charles, Carlos (though I think a one year extension or a 1+1 at most would’ve been the better play here, but oh well 🙃), Daniel, Lando, Valtteri, Esteban and Kevin are all locked in I think?

So that leaves Zhou, Pierre, Yuki, Checo, Lance, Mick and Alex.

I think Red Bull would be idiots to let Checo go since he’s doing his job near flawlessly and Max is clearly on good terms with him, but they’re notorious for running low on patience and kicking drivers out unceremoniously, even mid-season. Depends what they make of Checo being hungry for more, I suppose. I can’t see them bringing Pierre back (given his position at AT I can’t see him being eager to play second fiddle, even if it’s in a quicker car, plus he definitely feels at home with AT’s fashion/social media-leaning vibe), so maybe promoting one of their academy drivers? Or Yuki? Bit of a gamble though. They might be re-considering Alex given his current performance, but I’m not sure if Alex would want that (he seems to enjoy building up Williams) and also not sure how much of a hold they’ve still got on him, officially.

Lance isn’t going anywhere as long as Lawrence is in charge so that’s one seat permanently filled. Mick, again, he’s having a lackluster season especially compared to Kevin, but they’re not going to drop a Schumacher two seasons in. He’s also bringing in sponsorships/money I believe, so I think they’ll keep him on, at least for another year.

As mentioned, Alex is doing a stellar job and he seems to be genuinely happy and in a really good place within the team so that’s an easy renewal in my mind.

I haven’t seen all that much of Zhou tbh, so it’s hard to gauge his actual performance (esp given his string of bad luck/Alfa’s reliability issues). Afaik he brought in a good bit of money and the Chinese sponsors would probably want to see a Chinese driver in a Chinese GP, which would imply at least another year, but idk. Same with Yuki, I really don’t know. I would lean towards renewal (especially since he’s gelling so well with Pierre and his performance has been decent this year) but idk, RB might be eager to bring in one of their academy drivers, maybe Vips? Honestly just vague speculation since I don’t follow feeder series all that much. Pierre as well... logically I’d see him getting renewed but AT is kind of a career standstill. Especially since the car’s worse this year than it has been previously.  They’re the ones I’m unsure about the most, I think. It really could go either way.

[egailisafanofthings]

Ridiculously self-indulgent edits of Max with top surgery scars.

Several more below this cut (Longpost, all original art by Steve Purcell!)

[despairforme]

His single eye cracked open, slowly, slowly. The first thing that met him was a PANG of pain through his head like someone had just taken a sledge hammer and gone to town. It briefly made him squeeze that eye shut again, and a pained noise escaped him, while he instinctively reached for his head. Nnoitra knew a thing or two about headaches. He had, after all, gotten SHOT in his head at one point. What he remembered the most about that was the moment before the gun fired. He remembered thinking what a freaking rare and awesome weapon that was. He stood by that statement, even if said weapon had literally given him a hole through his head. That made for plenty of good jokes about him being stupid and missing half a brain. The pain he was feeling right now wasn’t the same as it had been when he got shot. The pain was ringing through his entire skull. Another groan. He told his body it was time to attempt to sit up straight, but it woudln’t listen. He managed to keep his eye open this time though, to look around. Where was he? What had happened? He remembered... What was the last thing he remembered? He forced his aching head to cooperate. He had been playing cards with his crew-mates. That was the last image he could clearly bring forth. Yeah, he had been about to lose big time. A per usual. Could he have possibly started a fight because he was about to lose at cards? That did sound like some stupid shith he could pull. But, there was something not quite right here. He hadn’t noticed it before now, but the scent in the air was NOTHING like the smell onbaord the ship. On the ship, there was the very distinct smell that came when men who didn’t care too much about their personal hygine lived together in close-quarters. The scent he was breathing in now was fresh. It smelled like a forest. The air was moist. He could smell dirt and flowers and grass. Was he outside? His curiosity inspired him to try to push his body again, and this time it allowed him to sit upright. The world started spinning, making him dizzy. It was light here, now that he thought about it. Bright, white light was shining down. So he was outdoors then? Had his crewmates finally gotten tired of him, knocked him out and dumped him off on a planet? Was he marooned? If he was, then traditionally, he should be left with a gun with single shot in it. However, when he looked down, his weapon was gone. What the fuck?

He looked around some more, and saw why everything smelled like he was outside. He was surrounded by plants. Plants of different sizes, types, colors. More variety than he had EVER seen in his life ( and Nnoitra had traveled quite a lot ). Close to him there was a large, orange flower that at first glance looked almost like it was on fire. It was giving off the most alluring scent, and Nnoitra almost wanted to plant his face into it and just inhale. On the ground, where he was sitting, there was grass, or at least what appeared to be grass - except it was blue. Above him were white lights, but also plants growing in what he thought he could make out to be a ceiling. Okay - so he wasn’t outside then. That only puzzled him more. Where the fuck was he then? In the distance he could hear the sound of running water, otherwise everything was quiet. No, wait, there might be a buzzing of some insects nearby too. He made yet another attempt to stand, but it just made him feel more dizzy, and he groaned again.

“You should lay still. You are still recovering.” Nnoitra literally JUMPED in his seat, and yeah, that made his head spin. He had not expected anyone to speak to him. The voice had been deep and calm. A man’s voice. When the world stood still before him again, he turned his head in the direction of the voice.

His eyes were glowing. That was the very first thing Nnoitra noticed about him. He had large, yellow eyes that glowed like distant suns. They were regarding him from behind long, purple eyelashes. He had skin the color of steel, and on the top of his baled head there were two small, curved horns, almost like spikes. He must be tall, though it was hard to tell just how tall since Nnoitra was sitting, but he would guess he was even taller than himself. He was wearing a large, black coat that appeared to be made up entirely out of pockets. Was Nnoitra’s gun in one of them? The next striking thing about him, was the CRACK in his head. Maybe Nnoitra noticed it especially because he, himself had a hole through his own. It looked like someone had SMASHED this guy’s skull. The left side of his head looked almost like a broken mirror, except the cracks were filled with what literally looked like gold. It was bright and shiny, and extremely visible against that grey skin. Nnoitra had met a great deal of beings throughout his time, but usually he had a vague idea about what kind of species they were. This time? He had no clue. Whoever this guy was, he had to be something incredibly rare. The pirate side of Nnoitra briefly connected the dots between him being rare and him being worth a lot on the creature-market. That thought was pushed aside. Nnoitra had traded creatures before, but it was always risky because he, himself was an extremely rare ( if not unique ) human-insectoid hybrid. He had to be careful about appearing in the wrong circles. And in any case - there were more pressing matters than him SELLING this guy. Like, for example -

“What ‘da fuck happened?” He asked, his voice just a little pained while he looked over at the stranger. The other didn’t appear hostile, he noted. Not even vary, as if he knew that right now Nnoitra posed little threat to him. He probably wasn’t wrong about that. Even if Nnoitra hadn’t been injured, he didn’t know what kinds of powers this alien possessed. He might be incredibly strong.

There was a pause, before the alien looked away from him, and turned his attention to the nearest plant. He brushed the leaves with a finger, almost similar to how someone would lovingly caress a partner.

“Your ship collided with something. I received the distress signal.” Another pause, or was this more like hesitation? Then he continued - “When arrived, you were the only one I could find. I don’t know if maybe someone was there before me and picked up survivors and simply didn’t see you.”

That was a lot of information. Nnoitra tried to process it. HOW could they have collided with something? If they really had, then chances were there weren’t many survivors. Most of the crewmates were human, and they were just genetically fragile. Nnoitra’s hybrid genes made him a lot more durable, which was most likely what he could thank for being alive. Nnoitra DID have people he’d consider.. Well, not friends, but... Yeah. People he had known a while and who tolerated him ( and who he tolerated in return ). Were all of them dead then? Just like that? People he had been traveling with for years. People he had just been sitting there with, playing cards. Had they been ripped from life at the moment of impact with whatever it was the ship had crashed into? It was so INCREDIBLY rare to actually crash in space. It was fucking ETERNAL after all. One would think there was enough space for a shitty, little space-ship. Nnoitra realized something - there was a chance they had been shot down. They were pirates after all. The distress signal that the ship had sent out was something that happened automatically when it sustained too much damage to be saved. There was no way this man would know what kind of ship had sent out the SOS. If all he had arrived at was a total wreck, then he really had no way of knowing that Nnoitra was a pirate. Nnoitra looked at him. He was still busy with the plant. Nnoitra thought he could see the plant turn slightly towards those glowing eyes, as if it was looking back at him. Freaky.

“So everyone’s dead, except me, huh?” Nnoitra didn’t sound like he was mourning, and neither was he. He wasn’t going to be upset about those guys dying. They wouldn’t have given a shit if HE had died. And, in any case, some of them might still be alive. The alien was looking at him again, probably as a reaction to the coldness in which Nnoitra spoke about his dead crewmates.

“In all likelihood, yes. I’m guessing it’s because you are not fully human. In my experience, humans can hardly survive anything.” Oh, that was a sharp observation. Seemed Nnoitra wasn’t the only one who thought humans were weak. He nodded.

“Yeah, I guess ‘daz why I ain’t dead. I’m surprised ya figured out I ain’t fully human. Most people can’t tell, ‘cause I look like one.” A vague gesture was made towards his general appearance. Nnoitra really did appear fully human ( except for the hole in his head, which he always covered with an eyepatch as well as his hair anyway. Nnoitra DID have the ability to grow an extra set of arms, but he very rarely did so, as it was very painful for him. “I bet it ain’t ‘da same ‘fer ya.” Basically, Nnoitra was asking him - what the fuck are you. A subtle expression of surprise settled upon the other’s face, and he tilted his head just slightly.

“You don’t know what I am?” His voice was partly confused, partly suspicious and partly surprised. Nnoitra furrowed his brows, and looked him up and down as if that would somehow magically make him know what kind of species he was. He really didn’t have any idea. Apparently, he SHOULD know.

“No? I don’t go ‘round studyin’ every fuckin’ species in ‘da universe. Ya know how MANY that is?” He.. Didn’t know how many there were, but since space was infinite, it was safe to assume that the amount of different species of aliens was beyond count. Nnoitra was used to how his rude approach to conversations was off-putting to others, and more often than not, he got himself into trouble thanks to his mouth. The alien didn’t seem annoyed at all though. If anything, he looked reassured and almost calm. 

“You can call me Fowkwer.” The alien introduced himself. That name wasn’t too difficult. Nnoitra often met guys with absolutely freakishly long names that he could never in his life hope to remember. It DID seem appropriate that he should at least manage to remember the name of the dude that had saved him.

“I’m Nnoitra.”

“Welcome aboard my ship, Nnoitra.”

“So this is a ship? I was kinda wonderin’ ‘bout that. It looks more like a jungle.” Which he absolutely loved. This was the nicest ship he had ever been aboard, and all he had been doing was sit in this one spot in the blue grass. He had no idea how large the ship was, but he would guess it was fairly big. This room alone seemed to serve no other purpose than as a storage room for these plants. Then again, it was RARE for one person to operate a large ship. Were there others onboard here, or was Fowkwer the only one? He seemed to be the Captain at least, since he had referred to it as ‘ my ‘ ship. 

“Yes, it’s built that way. I don’t have a guest room, as I rarely have guests onboard. It’s usually just me and the plants.” So he was alone then.

“Yer lucky. Havin’ a whoel space ship ‘ta yerself that looks like a jungle? Fuckin’ livin’ ‘da dream. How much ya chargin’ ‘fer tickets?” It was a half-joke. Nnoitra had learned from his life as a pirate that NOTHING was free, and he was pretty sure the same went for getting your life saved by a glowy-eyed alien whose name was FUCKWHERE. No -- Fowkwer. Well, close enough.

“I wasn’t planning on charging you anything. You have nothing I want. All I ask is that you do not harm my plants. If you do I won’t hesitate to dispose of you.” His tone up until this point had been calm. It was still calm now, but there was an added seriousness and a coldness that hadn’t been there before. As his voice turned colder, Nnoitra thought it looked like his glowing eyes became less luminescent too. As if they too got colder. Nnoitra’s expression was once again one of those where you could almost see the question marks pop up over his head. Okay.. Was he dealing with some kind of... REAL weirdo here? Maybe he had been traveling so long with only his plants as company that he had started to think of them as his friends. Nnoitra had heard stories like that before. People getting lost in space of years and turning bat-shit crazy, talking to their helmets and shit like that. Was this a similar thing? Fowkwer looked serious. 

“Hands off ‘da plants. Got it.” Nnoitra held up his hands, as if to surrender. Seeing as he actually LIKED nature, he had no wish to uproot the plants or whatever. The only thing he did want to do was put his face inside that orange one that smelled like heaven. He had to wonder how Fowkwer would dispose of him. Just how strong was that guy? It didn’t feel good, not knowing whether or not he could overpower someone. And, also, it didn’t feel good to be unarmed. But, he could hardly ask for his gun back, could he? That would be too suspicious. Some of what he was thinking must’ve shown on his face.

“You can have your weapon back. It’s not of any threat to me. I just took it from you to ensure you wouldn’t start wildly shooting around and damage my plants.” Nnoitra’s beloved gun ( he had had it for years, okay? ) was pulled out of one of those deep pockets of the other’s coat. Fowkwer walked over to him, and bent down to return the weapon to him. Now that he was closer, Nnoitra could tell that Fowkwer was definitely taller than him. He had a bigger build too. Broad shoulders and a wide chest, and strong, muscular arms. Nnoitra’s skinny fingers accepted the gun, and he strapped to his belt where he always kept it. The other had said it was no threat to him. Did that mean his skin could withstand a shot then? Honestly it seemed like all the guy cared about was his plants. 

“So yer pretty tough, huh? But that - “ He pointed to the other’s head. He was certain that those golden cracks were actually a scar, and a gnarly one at that. “That looks like it hurt.” Was this his way of finding out Fowkwer’s weaknesses? Oh, absolutely. It wasn’t like he cared here.

“No more than yours. These are just cracks after all.” He touched the golden scar with a hand, and then he gestured to his own eye, as if acting as a mirror for Nnoitra. “You’ve got a hole.” Oh, so he had seen it then? Mah, that was fine. It explained how he could tell he wasn’t human. That was the only reason why Nnoitra kept it hidden.

“Yeah, I fuckin’ don’t recommend gettin’ shot in ‘da head by a BG-2000. Unless yer a badass motherfucker like me.” He grinned, cocking his head back. “I don’t recommend bein’ in a crash either, even if I’m pretty surprised I’m still in one piece.” His head hurt and he felt terribly weak, but that was about it. Considering he had been knocked out upon impact, his injuries seemed minimal.

“You looked far worse when I found you.”

“But ya did some magic-shit ‘n now I’m all good?” There were many different healing methods out there, and the best ones were very expensive. Mah, maybe this guy had some sort of healing plant here or something? Seemed likely.

“Something like that.” One thing that Nnoitra had noted was that Fowkwer had yet to smile. Not all species could, of course, but generally that was the one universal thing that everyone had in common. As long as you had a mouth, you could smile, and Fowkwer had a completely normal mouth, though his lips were a strange shade of purple. He probably just hadn’t warmed up to him yet. Was he suspicious of him still? Maybe.

“Mah, whatever ya did I’m.. Ya know -” He gestured between the two of them, the word ‘ grateful ‘ getting stuck in his throat. Fowkwer arched his brows slightly.

“Thankful?”

“Yeah, that.” A grin. Yeah, he WAS glad to still be alive ( oddly enough, he had never really thought he valued his life all that much ). The next question was - how long would he have to stay here? Actually, he wasn’t in any rush to have that answered. Compared to most of the shitty places he had visited in his life, where he was right now was kinda nice. He doubted Fowkwer would want to have him onboard longer than necessary. Who knew how long it was until they could land on a planet.

[happikattwuzheere]

the one where gansey befriends a deer: the au

hey remember that time ronan dreamed up a deer that was described with language suspiciously similar to how adam’s described, because i sure do!!! anyway

OK.

ok. so. this au’s actually evolved a lot since its initial already-pretty-fleshed-out inception one sleepless night, so me talking about it’s gonna be more than one post, but here’s the first one well actually the second technically yesterday’s warmup doodles were also from this au but i didnt talk about it at all so

and I’m gonna start with more or less the same pitch I gave to a couple people on discord

SO. starting out: it’s standard fantasy times, vaguely medieval but no specific time period because I don’t care enough to be digging into that quite frankly, but it is somewhere in England where this is happening. Story starts with just Gansey, Ronan, and Noah. Fey are very real and known entities and there’s been a conflict in England between the fey and humans, if not in the whole country then at least in the lands that the Ganseys are the lords of but probably the whole island tbh, and Gansey’s not inherited the lands yet but he’s going to and wants to maybe find a peaceful resolution to the conflict. It’s not open warfare by any means but it’s been a big problem. 

To the effect of solving that, he heads to some little village that I haven’t named but it’s right next to a known fey forest called Cabeswater. This village has avoided being stomped by the local fey because, despite witches not being particularly liked by the nobility of the time, there’s a big old coven (the psychics of Fox Way, essentially) situated right by this village that’s kept things in check. Gansey’s made his excuses to his parents about why he’s officially going there but really he wants to talk to the witches and get a better grasp of the conflict from the people actually dealing with it.  He and Ronan set out from home together, pick up Noah along the way--who is not a ghost in this AU, he’s a fey who owes Gansey a life debt, that’s a whole other post and THIS post is mostly about gansey and adam--but anyway they get to this village and NOBODY gives gansey the time of day. 

the witches don’t let him into their house because they don’t like the nobility right back thanks and the next time he tries to visit Cabeswater won’t even let him get to the coven’s dwelling, the one witch’s daughter who regularly stops by the village for supplies and to check if anyone needs anything has a big argument with him the first time he talks to her so that’s going nowhere, and, well, the villagers are polite, but they clearly don’t take him seriously. He’s just the lordling playing at things and potentially meddling in their business to them.

So he starts hanging out just barely within Cabeswater, even though he knows that’s not wise, because he finds this perfect spot by a stream, and he’ll sit out there and think and work on the journal he keeps of all his thoughts and plans, and one day while he’s there has a straight up Disney princess experience when a deer stops by the stream and seems incredibly unafraid of him. he cherishes the experience but accepts that it probably won’t happen again.

and then it does. several times. gansey’s losing his mind. this deer??? apparently likes listening to him info dump?? it’s very therapeutic and also very magical and he’s amazed 

a few times in, he names the deer “Pryderi” after a character from a welsh legend, because “such a handsome creature deserves a princely name,” [[muffled blue laughing and whispering “princely” in the distance]], and he tells ronan and noah about this experience but ronan doesn’t believe him at ALL. 

one time after gansey’s particularly upset at how bad his attempts at getting along with the villagers, Pryderi actually lets Gansey touch him for the first time and gansey cannot shut up about it to ronan who’s finally like “i think you’re bullshitting me about this deer thing. im coming with you next time” and gansey’s like “well he’s a deer he might not show up if a stranger’s around and he doesn’t come every time i go down there anyway” and ronan’s like “this sounds like a lot of excuses, dick, you’re not making me believe you any more with this” and gansey’s like “>8\” 

but pryderi does show up, and gansey is delighted, and ronan stares really hard at him and then goes 

and gansey’s like what? nooo. but ronan keeps arguing it for the duration of the visit and the deer actually starts to look annoyed and at the end ganseys like ok maybe but i doubt it. and then hes like “well since you are a fey apparently (/sarcasm) i ought to say farewell with respect” and bows very mockingly and then the deer makes direct eye contact with ronan and bows back and gansey loses his shit

gansey continues meeting up with pryderi but even while his infodumping still happens it does so now with the knowledge that He Does Actually Understand What Im Saying, he may be a fey but he seems like a friendly one and hey that’s way more than gansey thought he would get out here, and also this deer is his friend now thanks, 

he, ronan, and noah (who’s amused by Pryderi but keeps his main thoughts to himself for now) make some excursions into cabeswater, but the thing is noah’s not really native to england, he’s from the european mainland, again i’ll get to it in another post sometime, but. he can sort of help navigate cabeswater but not all THAT well so they get lost a couple times, and every time it does happen pryderi shows up and helps guide them out. there’s some very funny moments of a very jealous ronan getting into weird conflict w/ a very smug deer 

anyWAY one day there’s like a festival, everyone’s drunk because its the middle ages and there’s not really a drinking age, gansey’s making another effort to make friends with anyone, and this one guy about his own age is like “ok look here i’ll teach you the folk dance everyone’s doing ok?” and gansey spends the night dancing w/ a handsome stranger, yes he will recognize the irony in the morning, but for now it goes. well badly because they’re both drunk but it’s fun, and then the guy says “ah, fuck it, i’ll finish teaching you next time we see each other” and gansey’s like “thats a little forward but ok!” and the guy (adam. its adam) panics and leaves while gansey’s back is turned and gansey doesn’t remember that last snippet of conversation the next day nor can he quite recall the stranger’s face. ronan does, because he was watching and not sure which of the two he was jealous of, but neither of them has any idea who the guy actually was. 

and then like, 3 days later, gansey falls asleep at the spot he usually hangs out in in cabeswater and wakes up in the early evening just in time to hear people yelling and for Pryderi to burst into view with an arrow in his flank. he collapses in a bush. gansey snaps into “protect friend” mode and gets the hunters off his trail by being all “oh a strange buck? i saw it pass that way over there friend!” and then when they’re gone he comes back and is all “alright pryderi they’re gone, let me just--” except pryderi’s not a deer anymore. it’s a boy. 

(Adam. its adam. the deer is adam.) 

gansey takes him home, gets the arrow out, noah’s like “i mean he’s not a fey, i dont know what turning into a deer is about but if he were fey the iron in that arrow would already have him dead. he might be partially fey but so little that he’s human in the ways that really matter”, over the next couple days they figure out that pryderi is in fact from the village and is a young man named adam parrish who’s been labelled a changeling and is assumed dead since he was yknow shot, gansey decides for now its probably best to keep him that way, but adam’s not getting better--apparently even having had the arrow in him as briefly as he did has poisoned him, he’s desperately ill and on the third day is finally like “get persephone” so gansey tries again (he’s tried several times over these days, they’d worked out that to have survived this long he must have someone else with a small degree of fey blood teaching him the ropes and the most likely suspects are the witches, but he’s hoping adam specifically asking him to will grant him permission enough to go in) and runs into a very frantic blue en route who as soon as he makes it clear he’s got adam is like “move your ass over on that horse im climbing on too” 

they get persephone, who turns into a fox rather than a deer, she saves adam, everythings cool except adam’s pissy now because he cant go back to the village and he has to give up on the attempts he had in the works to get out of town by working his way out and he takes it out on gansey who doesnt deserve it because this friendship is a mess, he’ll feel bad and take it back eventually but thats yet more posts ANYWAY YEAH theres our starting point 

(also worth noting: due to cabeswater being Right There,  p much everyone in this village actually has a small degree of fey blood, adam just won the genetic lottery) 

tl;dr adam’s a fey-blooded witch’s apprentice and he’s been the deer the whole time and thats the start of this au ty for coming to this ramble 

[arcitraditore]

for a man who dropped out of school at twelve, all three major antagonists buccellati faces off against commend his intelligence

[shuttershocky]

The Kokutou siblings sat with their boss in the office of The Hollow Shrine, with Mikiya click-clacking away on Touko’s haunted typewriter, and Azaka working on a few modifications to her mystic code. The two were notoriously early risers and had come in before Touko had barely rubbed the sleep from her eyes, so the mage was quite unprepared for her apprentices to be in a chatty mood. 

“Sensei,” Azaka said, snapping her fingers with her salamander glove. “I think we need to expand the office.”

Touko grunted in response, flipping to another page of the newspaper. She wasn’t actually reading anything; any mage worth their salt knew you never absorbed information until you’ve had at least two cups of coffee, and Mikiya hadn’t even started making the first one. 

“I agree,” Mikiya chimed in. “We need another room for all your workshop materials, Touko-san. We can’t keep stuffing them all in the kitchen.

Touko blinked in surprise. You never suggested the layout of a mage’s workshop might be subpar. Not if you wanted to have the right amount of fingers and toes or keep your skeleton a solid bone anyway. If they weren’t her apprentices she would have smote them where they stood, not that that’s stopped other mages of her caliber from doing the same either. She just didn’t feel like sweeping the floor of ashes today.

She put down the newspaper and put on her glasses (Huh, maybe that’s why she couldn’t read anything?), shooting both Kokutous a quizzical look. 

Azaka paused mid-snap. “Well, Sensei, we can’t store food and whatever strange, possibly-illegal substances you keep buying in the same cupboards. You don’t even label them!”

“Why not? I remember where everything is. I use the kitchen just fine.”

“Sensei, we use the kitchen.”

“Oh, you’ll be fine,” Touko said, dismissing her with a wave.” Just memorize where everything is like I did! 

“Sensei! What if we make a mistake?”

“I didn’t hire a pair of numbskulls. You wouldn’t even have been able to find this place unless you had an IQ above the general populace’s average.”

Mikiya stopped typing. 

“What? How does that even hide you from the Magus Association? The Clocktower is magic college.”

“Kokutou, you have no idea how many idiots get into college.”

“Wait, wait!” Mikiya said, waving his hands in front of his face. They were getting off-topic as usual. “Touko-san, keeping items as dangerous as potion ingredients and half-finished mystic codes and ritual relics in the same place we put sugar is a really bad idea. Sakura’s learning to cook now after seeing Emiya do it. Soon, she’ll rope Rin into cooking with her too, and if there’s anything that kids do it’s making mistakes while learning. Only a matter of time before someone will eat something that doesn’t agree with them, and we’ll be stretched thin covering for that someone while they wallow in food poisoning for a week, if we’re lucky.”

“The nerve!” Touko said with an exaggerated gasp and hand movement. “You’re really killing me, you two. Why I might just die now of sorrow. First, you tell a mage where to put their stuff in their own workshop, next you dare insinuate my girls can’t tell a witch’s foot from a basket of eggs?”

“You’ve got somebody’s foot?” Azaka blanched. 

“Surprisingly cheap. They said yes as soon as I lowballed, so I’m thinking it’s either fake or cursed.”

The door opened.

Sakura stepped out of the bedroom, already dressed for school and with homework in hand. 

“Good morning everyone!” She bowed.

“Morning, kiddo.” Touko said, her face brightening up in a way she would never admit. “Aren’t you up too early? School’s not for another hour.”

The Kokutou siblings glanced at each other.

“She knows what time school starts?!” Mikiya mouthed.

“I know! It’s like, who even is she?” Azaka replied wordlessly. 

“Mitsuzuri-senpai invited me to watch the archery club practice today. She said they were looking for new recruits since nii... Since Shinji moved away. I’m not sure if I’ll even like it, but I want to try!”

“That’s great, kid. Your sister going with you?”

The low, rumbling groan of an unconscious bear came from the bedroom.

“Guess not, huh?”

“No, I guess not.” Sakura giggled.

“Well, you should head off soon Sakura,” Mikiya said. “Before Touko-san decides to lend you a cursed bow that shoots straight but eats your classmates.”

“The slander! The libel! I’d sue you all if I wasn’t wanted in basically everywhere.”

The Hollow Shrine shared a laugh for a good moment.

“Oh!” Sakura gasped. “Nee-san and I made some chocolate cupcakes yesterday but no one else was home. They should still be in the fridge. We wanted you to be the first to try them out, Mom.”

“Aww, thank you, Sakura,” Touko said, taking a cupcake to her desk. “I’ll have one as soon as I finish the paper. Now go! Shoo! Don’t be late for archery. The Emiya boy is there before anyone else, so if you leave now you’ll have about ten minutes alone. You gotta take every advantage you can get right now when Rin could be his classmate next year.”

“I-I-I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Sakura said, blushing a deeper crimson than her sister’s clothes. “I’m going! P-Please tell me later how you liked it!”

The little girl bowed and was out the door, faster than they could blink.

“Now...” Touko said, picking up the cake.

“Don’t eat that!” shouted both Kokutous simultaneously.

“Are you two still going on about how I keep my kitchen? My girls made it. Together. It’s perfectly safe. Watch.”

And with that, the mage took a bite of the cake.

____________________________________

Later that evening, on the outskirts of Misaki Town close to Reien Girls Academy, Touko Aozaki and the Kokutou siblings were digging a ditch on the edge of the forest.

“Well,” Touko said, leaning on her shovel. “This is always the messiest part of moving to a new body, but on the bright side, aren’t we all just glad it was I who ate the cake?’

Mikiya sighed. “I don’t want to say ‘we told you so,’ but we did say that your kitchen was a disaster waiting to happen. We’re just lucky I convinced Rin it was all a bad dream or we’d be looking at a year in therapy. 

Azaka kept shoveling as the other two began to argue.

“Don’t be like that, Kokutou! The recipe did say Death by Chocolate. As far as I’m concerned, this was still well within expected parameters. So the girls might have mistaken rat poison for brown sugar, what’s the big deal?”

“Touko, you exploded,” Mikiya said, holding up a chunk of blackened flesh. “I can’t even tell if this used to be your head or part of a leg.”

Azaka stopped shoveling too to give it a poke.

“It’s got fingers. I think it’s an arm.”

“Oh stop it!” Touko snapped, snatching the maybe-arm and tossing it into the pit. “Let’s just finish before anyone comes. The last thing I want to do is get arrested for the murder of me.”

Her words were punctuated by the glare of headlights, along with the wail of a police siren.

[shinee35]

Eldest & Youngest shoulder rubs/neck massages

x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x

[rysttle]

Some self indulgent timsasha

Aaaaand finally, archivist sasha

Okay that's all hhh sorry for longpost

[soulvomit]

I have to cop to this because I feel like it’s the biggest obsessive thing wrecking my life

This has taken the place of every possible special interest I could have.

Here's the thing:

My "special interests" in the last 15 years or more, have predominantly been internal/in my head. 

I'm obsessed with my own made-up social theories, meta, my own observations, shit from the inside of my head, etc... and I can write about it all endlessly online. Like I’m doing now! 

Then I get started analyzing my own thoughts then analyzing the thoughts about those thoughts. 

I can also spend all day just posting about myself and analyzing parts of my life.

I LOSE WHOLE DAYS. I can spend all day  just posting. I can sit here, not eat all day, and just post. In fact the whole “whether ASD” thing with me has triggered the biggest spate of nothing but longposting and navel analysis that I’ve done in a long time. 

When I get the urge to post something, if I indulge it, then one thought leads to another thought leads to another...

Thing is, if I didn't write online, I'd just talk the ear off of other people and I feel like just posting online is what siphons off the frenetic talk energy for me. Also I don’t feel like I can have these conversations with anyone IRL, online is my most fluid way to talk.

The way I put it to someone earlier, is that it's like having to sit on the toilet all day so that you don't poop your pants in public and end up socially ostracized. If I don't constantly post, I will TALK, and... it's my absolute most difficult sperg trait for other people to live with.

Also I feel like I am only "real" online. Like I'm not authentic with people I know IRL. And compartmentalizing my autistic self into the online world and only doing what I have to offline, has been my big way of coping. I would talk my partner’s ear off, rapidly and self-centeredly, without this.

I'm 48. I can't live like this forever. I have no real actual hobbies at present, I'm struggling with pushing my career forward, this is really fucktastic!

It's like there is an obsessive quality to this. I can dwell on the same topic for weeks in my posts, too, and restate some of the same points over and over.

I used to be an interesting person whose special interests were about *things* (such as medical science 2004-2009.) Who spent a lot of this writing/talking compulsion on writing fiction (prolifically.) Usually I had some topically related special interest coupled with writing a story that incorporated aspects of it. 

I have not done this in ages, very little gets as much attention as my longposting does. And it's like I use up my executive function, and become exhausted, doing it.

It's not even just the internet, because i only hang out in a tiny corner of the internet. It's not even just zombie scrolling; I am fine with just checking my Facebook 2x a day or so.It's the energy I spend writing longposts on Reddit and Tumblr. It's not even enjoyable. And because it is my Special Interest basically - I can't even really absorb anything else. 

I can't stop once I start. I can't keep myself from doing it again. I am beginning to hate that I do this. 

But it's like I pour the most self-focused side of myself into these spaces so I can act normal the rest of the time and only very minimally bring myself up in conversation.

It's like... I use the internet as the repository for certain things I need, because I have me-specific needs that the rest of my world can't really meet.

Also, so many of my special interest focuses in the last 15 years (10 of those are the heaviest period of masking I've ever done in my life) are entirely focused within myself - my own self-referential theories, my own made up social taxonomies, etc - as well as sometimes getting deeply into “how to people”/self improvement spaces - which I can't even really share with other people IRL, or talk about. I feel like I am wasting my intelligence and creativity on this.

 Somehow I fell down this weird navel-gaze rabbit hole years ago and can't get out. 

That said, I don't feel like the people around me are particularly intellectual. I feel like every time I have an intellectually based special interest, or get obsessed with something I'm reading, I feel very lonely. 

But I can always talk pop psychology and develop my weird theories that are basically mental masturbation and spread manifestoes across the internet basically and somehow that's less lonely? What's the logic?

It was this that made me start to believe that perhaps I wasn't autistic after all because I did not consider my internet addiction a special interest. 

My most intense period of long-posting about mental masturbation, ever, began roughly at about the time when I began to think that instead I had ADHD, a diagnosis I got in 2008, 4 years after my Asperger diagnosis.

But it's not that I wasn't doing something autistic, I was doing something actually extremely autistic in several senses of the term.

And making up my own bullshit theories has a compulsive quality to it. Perhaps it's that I'm trying to order the world from inside my head. I don't know.

[bladesandstars]

Hey, tumblr pals

So, yeah. I didn’t leave forever. I’m still here, enjoying and reblogging stuff. Here’s an update on where I am and where I’m going!

[minor rant] I’m still incrediblyfuckingpissed at tumblr’s direct attack on nsfw stuff, and I remain determined not to let it keep my hands and mind from creating whatever I want, as filthy as that may be. (especially since this type of puritan nonsense seems to hit hardest in the areas that women and nb folk gravitate toward to express sexual power, but I digress) [/rant]

I’m still writing. a lot. I’m writing for an Ignis zine, a music zine, and a friendship zine (not tagging them in this ridiculous personal ramble, but it has been an amazing and rewarding experience with each one, and made me even happier I engaged with fandom in general, and with the FFXV fandom in particular. When I say “you guys are the best,” I truly mean it, and thinking about the fandom and the people I’ve met here is what’s bringing me back.

I’m doing more stuff, too. I’ve gotten invested in a few new/old fandoms, which you may see drift across my blog (please please scream with me about the arcana, the dragon prince, marvel, check please, got, and doctor who anytime. and I swear the 2019 challenge will be writing at least one ficlet in that unique, hilarious voice that is letterkenny. also I’m playing FFXIII and Lightning and Fang are murdering me every time I power up the old PS3).

I’m also (omg) writing original fic! It’s captured my heart, energy, and inspiration in a way that feels like -- oof, this is gonna sound so cheesy -- investing in myself? All this story, all these characters, out of MY head, and I’m getting swept up in it? It’s kind of the epitome of self-indulgence. I might put some of my OC babies here on the blog, or maybe not, I don’t really know yet (aka I’m nervous). But I have a couple of short stories on my Wordpress blog, and will be adding to those too as I work things out. (Universe 1 is a futuristic scifi type of thing involving memory manipulation with one m/m couple and one bi m/f couple; universe 2 was described by a friend as “space wlw fleurentia,” and well. yeah.) I’m having fun, y’all.

I’m not abandoning any of my FFXV longfic, and I have two that aren’t published yet (one half-written, one only planned, both rarepair bonanzas because, well, you’ve met me), so I’m not going anywhere. The XV fandom is still one of my most comfortable places to write and headcanon and have fun. But I’m so excited to be expanding the number of fun places to visit, too!

If you wanna send me asks about any of the fics I’ve got going, please do! If you wanna send me prompts for minifics, I’m down. XV or any of my other hodgepodge of fandoms. Thanks for reading/caring if you slogged through all this!

I’m also probably going to be writing more of these rambly personal longposts on here going forward, mostly for my own mental health reasons haha.  If you wanna not be bothered with these types of posts, I TOTALLY understand, and you can just filter the “hope talks” tag. 

Happy Pride month, happy weekend, high fives all around.

[skluug]

for almost 6 consecutive years, from middle school through the end of high school, i invited friends (as many as 10+) over to my house to play board games nearly every friday i was free, and this institution formed the basis of my social circle. someday when i am particularly bored i will baselessly speculate about what effects this had on me as a person and compile it into a dull self-indulgent longpost

[i-want-my-iwtv]

How has the purge affected u?

[Apologies in advance for the Wall of Text™, I feel like longposting, sorry for the dash coverage, I didn’t think I had this much to say about this… And I probably shouldn’t do this, probably should have kept this to a flippant “It sucks!” with a VC meme, but I haven’t shared much publicly lately… now feels like a singularly poignant time to do so.]

NO CUTS WE LONGPOST LIKE MEN

It’s strange. I think running and participating in the @vcsecretgifts exchange (not finished yet!), and backing up that blog and this one for preservation (not finished yet!), helped take my mind off it! I’ve been busy with @wicked-felina coordinating substitute Santas, so I haven’t had much chance to indulge in it like a participant yet, but I did see that my recipient liked my gift, and that was heartwarming! I’ll reply properly when I have the peace of mind for it (yes I could be doing it now but this is the gear I want to be on right now), and I haven’t had a chance to read the gift from my own Santa, I’m saving that as a treat!

I did the #Log/ffProt/st, that helped. The purge is/was creatively stifling, somewhat, too, bc even though I don’t produce NS/FW stuff myself (I WANT TO, THO), I do reblog it, and support it, I see other artists and writers affected by it, and I felt and still feel helpless, unable to protect them. One of our VC fandom members who draws slash art has been shadowbanned, that I know of. It’s frustrating that the morality & purity police seem to have won this battle, but they haven’t won the war. We’ll take our garbage underground if we have to. 

How crushing to wake up to one’s blog(s) just canceled w/o explanation? We were given 2 weeks’ notice? To pack up our “nasty” stuff and leave? 

[X]

There’s nothing wrong with NS/FW stuff, adult ppl should be able to talk about it, fantasize about it, make art and write fiction about it, have kinks and explore them. I never bought the “if you like it in fiction you support it in reality!” argument, just like with all dangerous things we like in fiction but wouldn’t want in reality. 

“… Fiction is how we both study and de-fang our monsters. To lock violent fiction away, or to close our eyes to it, is to give our monsters and our fears undeserved power and richer hunting grounds.” - Warren Ellis [X]

But I’ve fought those battles and there’s no point in engaging in unwinnable debate with ppl who are committed to misunderstanding me and twisting my words into a strawman they can easily knock over.  

It’s baffling that it’s an unpopular opinion that minors should be allowed to learn about sex, as much as they learn about how to (eventually) drive a car, manage alcohol consumption, defend themselves against violence, handle medication or recreational drugs, all these things that are potentially and not inherently dangerous to them, that they’ll be faced with in the Real World. I remember there were religious rituals in my youth where children could taste alcohol a little bit, it was exposure to an adult thing in a safe space, among other adults. Is this really all about Protecting the Children? Really? Or is it about mental domination? What it looks like to me is a self-proclaimed Particular Authority who wants to keep minors (and adults) submissive and reliant on that Particular Authority, it’s so much easier to keep them submissive and reliant to that same Particular Authority as adults. It’s always been about power. 

And I’m seeing that the communities most affected by the purge are AFAB ppl and LGBTQIA+. It’s misogynistic, LGBTQIA+-phobic. The fact that tungle reportedly blocked archivists from saving blogs before the NS/FW purge is just pouring salt in the wound.

I’ve started following these refugee/evicted tumblr ppl where they’ve migrated to. I’m trying to keep track of them. I’m in the @fiction-is-not-reality2 discord server, keeping my eye out for the next alternative platform.

Leading up to the purge I considered blasting a bunch of smut as a last hurrah, and I did reblog some Controversial™ stuff, just in case my blog was going to be deleted, but then, I lost steam on that. Why put in extra effort and get deleted anyway? Why poke the bear, and deliberately get deleted for it? Most of my blog is SFW, anyway.

I preserved my blog, the gifts blog, and just for archival purposes I should have been doing that all along, so it was good for my own historical safekeeping… so much good commentary and fanworks here, in the past 5+ years! Collecting the scraps just like I’d done in 1994, when there were articles about the IWTV movie and I wanted all of them, I especially wanted the illustrations and caricatures in the magazines (which was really validating of my interest in some way, fanart that was published, essentially!). And I had my folder of Deviantart I liked, of course. So I packed up my blog here to preserve it, it’s on wordpress now, iwantmyiwtv.com, with a lame layout, but I’ve got the tags showing, where fanart that’s blocked here can still be seen on WP.

I’m rambling. 

The purge reminded me that all this, as we know it, could and will be gone someday. Purges have done that before, especially to our fandom, attacked by its own canon author. We’ve survived this before. 

I’ve been on tungle since July ‘13. I’ve made and lost some wonderful friends here, some have moved on to other fandoms, or we’ve had partings of the ways. The fanart in this fandom, my memes, have been spread all over, I see them on Pinterest, Facebook, Twitter. When this blog is deleted, either by content flagging or by tumblr finally keeling over, our stuff is going to outlive us all.  

Who even made this one? One of the vintage memes. Maybe their watermark was long ago cropped off, or maybe they hadn’t put it on:

^It was used in a meme here, but I don’t think that was the OP, it’s gotta be more than 4 yrs old. Pretty sure the “JUDGING YOU” in Impact font was around Twilight time, which came out in 2008. This meme is still floating around, it’s still amusing to ppl all these years later. Someone’s stroke of inspiration, and we may never know who it was, but we enjoy it, it’s part of the worn fabric of the fandom.

Will ppl remember me when/if I’m gone? I don’t need to be remembered, it’s enough that I was here at one point, and encouraged ppl to make fanworks, that I helped bring ppl together. I don’t need them to know it was me, specifically, or know much about me, this blog was never meant to be about me. Those I brought together might remember how they met. There are those who have seen behind the curtain and I hope to hang onto them as long as possible.

If/When this all disappears, I want ppl to know how much I enjoyed interacting with ppl through asks, the chat feature. I’ve missed answering asks, and I’ve missed the feeling of seeing new ask alerts without having to brace myself for Discourse. I’ve missed seeing that anon icon as a friendly, but shy, human being, rather than a living person who’s in pain, somewhere else in the world, throwing bricks through my window. Someone who’s suffering bc they’re not getting the attention they need, truly, someone who deserves to be loved, someone who needs validation for their opinions on things, and wanted mine, but I couldn’t give it. I’m only human, too. I made this blog for 15 year old me, who couldn’t find enough VC fanworks, so I set out to collect, make, and encourage them, but all in the spirit of optimism, bc that’s what I got out of canon. 15 year old me drew self esteem from those books. That’s the only person I ever wanted to please with this thing and that girl is still my priority. 

We’ll survive this purge, we’ve done it before. Hold onto the ppl who you’ve made connections with. I’ll be here as long as I can. 

Most importantly, I’m not letting the morality & purity police tell me what ’m allowed to learn about, make fanworks about, or enjoy in published or fan fiction, etc.