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tiny-elf-of-doom · 11 months

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All Soaped Up : COD

Simon needs some shelter on a stormy night in Scotland and ventured to Johnny’s place. A woman was supposed to indulge Lt in one of his fantasies, but disappeared without a word. It was a good thing Simon came around.

MDNI 🔞: sęx, shower, soap, suds, top!Ghost, bottom!Soap, riding, dirty talk, slight degradation, soft aftercare, and drinking.

An hour had passed since Simon had decided to stay the night at Soap’s house. It might not have afore mentioned, but Soap assumed it would be so. After clinking their glasses to a successful mission, the two rested on the sofa in search for a movie. Before Simon could even seat himself, however, Soap had to remove his cat from her signature pillow. She didn’t like Simon very much and the feeling was mutual.

If there was one thing the two men loved, it was military films. They were almost never realistic to some concerns while a choice few had them feeling proud to be soldiers. Soap was a bit of a movie hound, collecting DVDs over the past few years. The one they decided on was a 2012 release called Act of Valor. It wasn’t the most factual film, but it was a fun watch that kept them entertained.

Hostile situations, illegal weapon trading, and high risk situations were the daily occurrence for Simon and Soap, so watching Hollywood play on it was slightly humorous. Twenty minutes in, they reached a point in the film where the SEALs were heading for a hot extraction. It was a long, rough sequence, but action packed nonetheless. Soap appeared to be enjoying it far more than Simon, but then again, Simon felt something strange in the air since he came over.

“Come on, boys…” Soap whispered in anticipation. Then, as the truck crashed into the river, the boat came into view, blasting artillery at the enemy like a bat out of hell. “Now that’s how you make an escape!”

Simon felt Soap punch his shoulder and tried to hide the smile on his scarred lips. He loved seeing the man this excited, it was satisfying. A happy Soap was a good Soap.

“Speaking of escapes, do you mind if I take a quick shower?” Simon requested.

“Nah, go on. I think my disappearing hookup left her stuff in the bathroom last night. Feel free to use it, I’m probably not going to.” Soap replied, fixated on the film.

“That sounded like a lie,” Simon said, laughing at his own comment until he noticed the look on Soap’s face. There was a sudden burst of red igniting his cheeks. “Eh, you doing okay, Johnny? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you that color before.”

“Yeah, I’m good,” he stuttered.

“You’re terrible at lying to your friends, Johnny.”

Soap swallowed a wad of spit, “I know.”

The Scotsman had something on his mind, possibly on his tongue, and Simon wanted to know what he wanted. Without valuing Soap’s space on the couch, the taller man scooted closer until there was only an inch or two between their legs. Soap inhaled sharply, feeling that red pigment travel down his neck. Unique reaction, Simon thought to himself.

“Johnny, what were you and that little lover gonna get up to?”

“What do you think?” Soap choked, “because I think you already know.”

“Maybe, in the grand scheme of hook-ups, but there’s a key detail to that date than you’re not letting on.” Simon laid a hand on his forearm, “I’m not gonna shame ya, I just want to help you out.”

“Help me out, eh?” a bead of sweat ran down the side of his face, “alright, I’ll give in. I invited her over because we both shared a liking for shower sex. Might be normal to have a wank under the showerhead, but I enjoy being cleaned, teased for being filthy then probed with products. Real naff, I know, but that’s the story…”

“Sounds reasonable.”

Suddenly, Simon was pressing his lips to Soap’s mouth. Such forwardness; his skin was still bitter from the cold, though the heat from his mouth was intoxicating. Soap could feel the scar on Simon’s lips. It was thick, deep set into his skin. As the kiss deepened, Soap found himself grasping his friend’s arms for stability, especially when the man’s tongue began to massage his own. Whimpers left Soap’s mouth in harmony with Simon’s husky groans.

Passion leaked from their kiss as Simon lifted Soap off the ground. It felt safe having his partner’s legs wrapped around his waist. They continued to attack one another’s lips on their way to the master bathroom, taking Simon very little effort to carry his partner. Once they stepped through the door, Soap was made to sit on the counter against the mirror. Simon loved how tightly he was being gripped by those incredible thighs. Sadly, he departed them to see what the shower lady had left.

“Let’s see,” Ghost hummed while reading each bottle carefully. “I’m noticing a theme: vanilla and brown sugar. ‘Might be mistaken, but I think she was trying to turn you into a sticky toffee pudding.”

“Probably,” Soap chuckled, “sounds about right. My nana used to make the best batch around the holidays…”

“Clothes off.” Simon barked, bringing soap back to the present. He rambled when he was nervous sometimes.

Soap paused for a moment, surprised by the demanding tone. Then, he noticed that familiar glint in Simon’s eyes. Blown pupils, lidded, full of desire. “Yes, sir.”

“Good boy,” Simon purred, “you’ve got clean manners, but I can’t say the same about the rest of you… don’t you worry, love, I’ll be sure you feel real pretty after all this.”

The Scotsman made no haste with removing his clothing, kicking the excess behind him towards the hamper before returning to Simon. Soap wanted to touch him, to remove the man's clothing with kisses trailing in his wake, but Simon refused his wishes.

"Nope, you're going to get that water warm, not smoldering, and you're going to wait for me facing the showerhead. Understood?"

Soap nodded, proceeding to step around Simon and open the glass door. Once the water came running out of the head, steam filled the room, even just for a moment to ease the tension in his bones, then it was lowered to a far more manageable temperature. The anticipation for Simon to enter the shower was driving Soap's erection far more than the act itself; hearing his soft grunts, seeing the silhouette through the steam, it was all very theatrical.

Then, a draft entered. Soap wouldn’t dare to look at Simon until he was told to, suddenly feeling more exposed than he normally did around his partner. What if Simon ran off after this, too?

"What's wrong, love?" Simon asked suddenly; chest pressed to Soap's back. "Your muscles are tense enough to cut metal."

"If you're intending on leaving after this, then maybe we shouldn't do it... I already had that one lady walk out on me, I can't have that with you, Simon. No hard feelings, mate, I just hate it when I blink and the person who was with me just vanishes after the fact."

Simon hummed in understanding, but grabbed the man's arms and pulled them over his head. Careful fingers began to pinch at both nipples, playing with the sensitive bundles of flesh until Soap let out a strangled gasp. Simon continued to mess with them, earning honey sweet coos from that pretty mouth.

"I'm going nowhere, Johnny. When I say I’m gonna stay, then I’m planted.”

A warmth pooled over Soap's chest, knowing his partner meant it. However, the feeling was short lived as Simon grabbed the black loofah left by the previous woman. He scrunched the material with a hefty dollop of cream until it was dripping bubbles onto the floor. From there, he dragged it up and down Soap's chest, making sure to get every crevice of his frame. He made sure to scrub along his arms, under his arms to the downward curve of muscle that met his abs. They were beautifully shaped and presented a groomed line of hair.

"Where does this lead to?" Simon teased, nipping at his neck.

"Somewhere I want your dick to be," Soap chuckled, but was turned and pressed to the wall.

Simon gave Soap's backside a harsh slap before positioning the loofah between his cheeks and beginning to scrub. Suds trailed down Soap's legs slowly as his moans filled the bathroom. This felt incredible, unlike anything he might have felt with a complete stranger. Simon was far more experienced with his partner, making the act far more personal.

"Gotta get ya nice and squeaky for me. ‘Promise I’m gonna put my dick in ya here in a minute," Simon explained, laughing when he felt Soap's back arch at his words.

"Please, sir..." Soap begged, "I'll soap up my cock while you're fucking me... I'll be your good boy, Lt..."

"Oh," Simon whispered into Soap's ear, "I know you will."

And as Simon lowered himself to the floor, Soap rinsed himself off and seated himself on his partner's lap. Using a healthy squirt of silicone lube, Simon coated himself and his needy partner before handing Soap a bar of, well, soap. Lowering himself onto the man's cock was a task considering it was a rather large specimen, but Simon was supportive all the way to the base.

Soap was careful at first, not wanting rush the sensations; that was until his body got a feeling for Simon’s cock and the assist of the textured soap. Everything within him was screaming at him to go for it. Soap wouldn’t argue and began to bounce roughly onto that egregious cock in his ass. Simon's calloused hands gripped the man's hips, meeting him in the middle of each thrust. Loud cries to pleasure flooded out of Soap's mouth like a waterfall of emotion. For the first time in a while, Simon was getting him closer and closer to peak.

"My dirty boy, fucking hell." Simon cursed, "'might just like you that way better... a dirty, slutty boy who just wants my cock.”

“I love your clock Lt… there’s nothing like it… soap my tuts won’t ya?”

Simon obliged, taking the left over bubbles and squeezing those abused nipples one more. That wicked scent of vanilla was intoxicating, but so pleasant. No wonder it was such a popular not in fragrances and bath shit.

Soap held nothing back the closet he got, riding so roughly that the skin of his knees was scraping the floor. Another clash of hips and Soap covered Simon's chest and stomach in white.

“Fuck! Simon! Yessir!” Soap screamed, squinting harshly.

Seeing his partner in such a state of bliss made Simon want to fuck the hell out of him again, just to catch him off guard, but he refused. Instead, he brought the man's head to his shoulder.

"I might really need a shower after all. You’ve got me all sticky, love.” Simon chuckled.

Both men settled into one another, enjoying their embrace when scratching abounded from the bathroom door followed by small mewls.

“Gonna have to feed the cat before we continue. Sorry, Lt.”

Simon shook his head. “You and your goddamn cat, Johnny.”

#call of duty #call of duty mw2 #call of duty ghost #call of duty soap #soap mctavish #simon ghost riley #soap x ghost #cod modern warfare #cod smut #smut fanfiction #mdni #shower fun #cod fanfic

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neil-neil-orange-peel · 11 months

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I never really know quite what to say on this day; I normally just end up repeating myself. I've written fanfic for a lot of Rik Mayall's bastards, and I help run the Rik and Ade Fest, and I was editor of Scumbag Monthly for a long time - but all of these things come with a level of detachment from the man himself. Even the Rik zines we made especially for 9th June were like that.

I'd spend so long in the run up making the zines - and chasing after people to make sure they'd actually submit the pieces they'd said they would - that, when publication day came, the main things that stood out to me about those zines were what was missing and which of the pages I'd made looked a bit naff versus which ones were acceptable. I think - I hope - those zines had an impact on other people, that they made people emotional, but for me releasing them was more akin to ticking a box. It's not that I wasn't proud of them, but I'd been working on them for months in advance. I knew them inside out. It's not that I didn't mean the words I wrote, but I'd read and reread them so many times by 9th June - as well as the words everyone else had written. I wasn't going to get the emotional hit because I was the one doling that out to everyone else. Does that make sense?

For a significant portion of time, Rik Mayall took up a significant portion of my brain matter. It made sense: this was the first fandom I'd ever been properly active in, I'd made friends here, I'd started writing again, and then we were thrown into an international pandemic where there wasn't much else to do but go insane, one way or another. I've said before how I'll always be grateful to Rik for re-sparking my creativity. There's a domino effect that started with me first watching Bottom, which eventually led to me switching my entire uni direction around to pursue creative writing.

For the last year or so, things have been different. We're all multifaceted people, each with a wealth of contradictory and complimentary interests. There are other people and other interests that vye for the top spot in my brain these days.

That said, and the entire point of this bit of waffling being: I still love Rik Mayall. And I say that knowing how superficial it sounds, and I say it without worrying whether I still will in another 5 years - because I know I will. He was marvellous, and hilarious, and sexy. He made it feel okay to be a bit weird, okay to be a bit mad; he made you want a spot on whatever wave of excitement he was riding, like the world really was just waiting for you to live in it. He was human, and he was flawed, and he was bloody stupid sometimes, but that didn't stop him from leading a comedy revolution and making the world that bit brighter.

Rik should have had longer on the earth. The fact he's gone - and for 9 years now - will always be incredibly unfair to him and his loved ones. The rest of us are just blessed that, to paraphrase a certain spotty prick, we still have his poems. So long as he keeps us laughing, Rik will still be here in some way.

So, once again, here's to our eternal Lord of Misrule: Rik Mayall! ❤️

#rik mayall #9th june #i miss rik mayall #rest in peace you glorious bastard #9 years #❤️❤️❤️

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your-divine-ribs · 3 months

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I’m With the Band Part 2

Words: 2k

No warnings apart from my naff writing lol and Arabella’s attitude (the story does get better but I can’t promise that Arabella’s attitude does sorry 😂)

I’m With the Band Masterlist Main Masterlist

"So... you're not actually in this band then?"

Larry and I are sitting on the balcony in my room sipping on bottles of beer whilst he's filling me in on his life in the past ten years.

"No... like I say I just string Van's guitars and... you know... help them with their kit and stuff."

"So you're just a roadie?" I question him.

Larry looks slightly annoyed. "No..."

I'm enjoying winding him up. "Oh... so you're like the band's bitch then?"

I'm giggling at the look on his face but he doesn't stay annoyed for long when he realises that I'm teasing. "So what the hell do you do for a living then? I suppose mummy and daddy just let you live off them now they're loaded eh?"

I don't try to deny it. I'm unashamedly a bit of a princess and I'm proud of it.

"I tried a few jobs but it didn't really fit around my lifestyle..." I say, aware that I sound like a completely spoilt bitch.

Larry doesn't look particularly impressed but I don't care. I'm feeling a little bored of this already. Although it's actually been quite nice to catch up with him I can't imagine the next two months in this little seaside town which boasts a few pubs and one nightclub which looked like a complete dive online. I'm restless.

"So... when are we going out then?" I say, glancing at my watch, imagining what my friends at home are doing now.

"Well... we've got to wait for Bondy first..."

"Who's Bondy?" I say, draining my beer, reaching out for another which Larry passes to me.

"Johnny Bond. He's the new guitarist. He lives in Newcastle so he's coming to stay for a few days until the tour starts up."

"He's staying here?" I ask, ears pricking up at the prospect of a young male in the house. "You got a picture of him?" I nod at his phone.

"You won't need a picture, he's turning up literally any moment," Larry says, and as if on cue his phone buzzes and he takes a call.

"Bondy mate! Yeah that's right, number 52. The last house on the road. Great... I'll come down and let you in."

Larry's off and I stay sitting in my spot on the balcony, legs stretched out in front of me on another chair, enjoying the warm late afternoon sun on my skin. It really is a sun trap here. I'll have to take advantage of this. I hitch up my dress slightly, hoping to catch some rays.

"And this is my little cousin, Arabella. She's staying with us for the summer." I hear Larry say.

I glance up at the tall figure who's looming over me, squinting against the glare of the sun, my hand shielding my eyes.

Hmm... things suddenly got a little more interesting round here...

Bondy smiles down at me, he's got a warm, lazy kind of smile and a handsome face covered with stubble. His scruffy brown curls spill out from underneath the black cap perched on his head.

"Hey Bondy," I say smiling back up at him. "Or do you prefer Johnny?"

He holds out a hand to me and I reciprocate, expecting him to shake mine, but instead he stoops down and plants a little kiss on the back of mine. "You can call me whatever you like darlin."

Larry clears his throat and I'm aware that me and Johnny had definitely let our eyes linger on each other's for a lot longer than was probably appropriate for a first meeting. I smile to myself as I finally turn away, taking another sip of my beer.

Johnny takes a seat opposite me and him and Larry immediately launch into talking about band stuff. I'm only half listening, catching snippets of conversation, hearing names. Van's name comes up a lot but I also hear the names Bob and Benji. Now I've seen Johnny I'm all of a sudden eager to see the other band members. Apart from Van of course. That little prick was the bane of my life throughout my childhood summers.

I pop my sunglasses back on, leaning back, stretching out my bare legs. I notice Johnny glancing over, completely unaware that I'm closely watching him through my dark lenses. He really is pretty sexy. And he's staying here... I wonder which bedroom he's going to be staying in.

After a while Larry announces that he's going inside to fetch more beers and Johnny shifts in his seat, turning to face me.

"So Arabella... how come you're staying at Larry's then for the summer?"

I pull my sunglasses down to the tip of my nose, peering at Johnny over the top as I reply. "Well my parents are in New York on business so they sent me here. They didn't want me staying at home alone. Apparently I can't be trusted..."

"Oh... so you're not to be trusted then? I'll have to remember that!" He laughs softly.

I take off my sunglasses again so I can look him in the eye better. "My dad says trouble always seems to find me."

"Is that so?" Johnny says, but then Larry reappears with the beers, distracting him.

The boys resume their conversation and I slip off to shower, returning 20 minutes later in nothing but a small towel wrapped around me, barely covering my modesty.

"Christ Bells! Put some clothes on would ya?" Larry cries as I smirk at him, leaning down to pick up the bottle of beer off the table I was drinking before.

"Well... you are in my room..."

Johnny's eyes go slightly wide and he looks away, but not before I've clocked his gaze running the full length of my body. That was the desired effect of course.

"Come on Bondy, I'll show you where you're staying." Larry motions for Johnny to follow him, then he turns to me. "We're going pub in half an hour. Are you gonna be ready?"

"I'll be ready!" I smile sweetly at Larry, then he turns his back to leave the room.

Johnny glances back just before I shut the door and I catch his eye. There's definitely a little spark there. I smile to myself as I start to get ready for the night out.

The pub's small and dark and smells of stale beer. Some people might call it quaint. I wrinkle my nose up as we all stepped inside and I hear a quiet chuckle coming from beside me.

"Not your usual kind of establishment I'm guessing love?"

I turn to face Johnny who has a softly amused kind of smile on his lips but Larry cuts in before I get a chance to answer. "Don't think they serve Cristal in here, Bella, sorry!"

I narrow my eyes at him. "Whatever you think you know about me, you've got me all wrong..."

Larry laughs, nudging Johnny. "Eh, reckon she's slumming it tonight!"

Johnny laughs too and steps up to the bar, ordering three pints of lager. I take a seat, pleased when Johnny sits down right next to me. Larry mumbles something about going out for a fag leaving me and Johnny alone.

"Pint okay for you?" He grins, taking a huge swallow of his own drink.

"Uh-huh," I nod with a smile. “Perfect.”

To be honest lager wouldn't be my first choice of drink... or my second, third or fourth for that matter, but Johnny's bought it for me so I don't want to offend him.

I reach for my glass, taking a sip, trying to be ladylike but not quite pulling it off. Johnny laughs, a low throaty sound, and he's looking at me funny.

"What?" I demand, feeling self-conscious all of a sudden.

"You just got it all..." he indicates his own face with his finger "... kinda everywhere..."

So much for trying to be seductive. I reach up to touch my mouth, dismayed that I now seem to have half of the head of my pint adorning my upper lip. I quickly wipe it away but Johnny's still grinning.

"Come 'ere lass," he reaches over, running a finger just above my top lip when I lean forward.

I'm not sure what possesses me, but before he has a chance to pull away I grab his hand, running my tongue lightly over his finger and lightly sucking the tip, my gaze flicking up to meet his.

"Thanks Johnny," I purr.

His eyes widen again and he snatches his hand quickly away, reaching for his own pint, shifting in his seat slightly. I cross and uncross my legs, my thigh rubbing against Johnny's. He clears his throat before looking back across at me.

"So... Arabella... I'm intrigued about what you said earlier... about your parents not trusting you to stay on your own. How old are you if you don't mind me asking?"

I give him a playful smile. "Old enough to know better... but young enough not to give a fuck! I'm 19."

"What did you do?" Johnny says, intrigued, but Larry's back and he wants to know what we're talking about. When Johnny tells him, Larry's eyes light up with the prospect of spilling some juicy gossip.

"Oh our Bells is a regular little party animal!" He says. "Trashed the house didn't you love?"

"They were overreacting," I complain. "It wasn't that bad!"

"That's not what I heard," Larry smirks, then he looks at Johnny, pretending he's talking conspiratorially but loud enough for us all to hear. "You need to keep an eye on this one, I'm telling ya!"

Larry gets distracted by someone he's seen over the other side of the pub so he doesn't see Johnny turn and look right at me.

"Oh, I intend to..." he says quietly, a subtle smirk staining his lips.

"Benji, Bob! Over here!"

Larry's on his feet now, waving, and I look over as two guys approach the table.

One is tall and thin with a wild mop of tangled curls... and a very nice smile I think to myself. He's wearing a black leather jacket and skinny black jeans and looks every inch the cool rockstar despite his seemingly quiet demeanour. The other has a cute face framed with dark-rimmed glasses. He's also got a head of curls but he's got his scraped back into a ponytail. He gives me an adorable bashful smile when I catch his eye.

Introductions are made all around and I smile sweetly at the guys, sizing them up, my disappointment at spending the summer with my cousin dissipating by the second. It's just a pity that they have band stuff to discuss and I find myself stifling a yawn as talk turns to practice venues and gigs they have lined up.

"Where's Van got to anyway?" Benji pipes up.

Even the mention of his name riles me. Hopefully he won't turn up. Larry starts grumbling and digs his phone out of his pocket but as if on cue Johnny's calling out. "There he is! Over here Van!"

Despite the sour memories I'm interested to see how my childhood nemesis has turned out after all these years, remembering the scrawny, scruffy haired lad who used to tease me mercilessly. I stretch up in my seat, straining to see, when a tall, lean figure strides over.

"Alright lads!"

Well, well... now this must be the glow-up of the century. The years have certainly been kind. Van runs a hand through his hair as he looks around the group and when his eyes alight on me he does a double-take.

"Fuck me! Arabella Turner is that you?"

His eyes are practically popping out of his head as they take me in, and he's certainly taking me in, brazenly so. Every inch.

"Long time no see, Van," I say back, trying to act aloof even though my interest is piqued in such a way that I'm finding it hard not to mirror Van's own reaction to seeing me.

I smile to myself at his slack-jawed expression and it doesn't go unnoticed by my cousin. "Fucking hell mate, why don't you take a photo? It'll last longer!"

Sniggers erupt from around the table and Van finally comes to. He steps forward, pint in hand, shunting Larry aside so that he can take the seat next to me.

"Shift up Larry, I want to sit next to Arabella. We've got some catching up to do."

Yep... this is certainly going to be an interesting summer...

#im with the band #van mccann #johnny bond #fanfic #vanfic

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tuzesdays · 8 months

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✨ Let's hear that compliment, babe! It's self-appreciation hours!!! ♥

NAAAAAAFF!!!

✨What's a fic you've posted you wish you could breathe life into again and have people talking about it? (or simply a fic you wish got more credit) i'm gonna do this one because you used The Emoji (im guessing you meant the compliment one via context clues but whats the harm in doing two) and oh gosh. back when i was a teeny tiny baby writer still on fanfiction.net i would have these grand goals of getting so so popular with my MULTIPLE and MULTI-FACETED mary-sue plots. honestly, i wish i could write all of them again with the same irrational kind of love. i don't even know what i called them anymore, but i think it would be fun to go back to the roots.

🎀give yourself a compliment about your own writing lol i am not shy about this one because writing is my jam. i love my characterization and dialogue! i put a lot of thought into it! i make sure all my characters have their own unique voice in the text! it's the writing skill im most proud of <3

SELF APPRECIATION HOURS, NAFF! I BETTER SEE YOU LISTING OFF A DIFFERENT COMPLIMENT FOR YOURSELF EVERY TIME YOU GET ASKED FOR ONE! YOU DESERVE IT!

#tuz asks #ask game

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zedecksiew · 2 years

Text

In The Light Of A Faded World

This morning Sharon and I talked about having thoughts about the end of our current world.

Not apocalyptic thoughts of nuclear fire or zombie-world cruelty. Just the little things: the effort we'd need to put, to make rainwater potable. Lack of access to coffee and washing powder. That sort of thing.

Was reminded again of the text I wrote for Derek Kinsman's TTRPG "In The Light Of A Faded World". A game where you play small animals rooting through the ruins of a once-human earth.

I am very proud about the work I did for this. A short story about a trio of animals exploring a shopping mall (explicitly modelled after 1 Utama); character blurbs for all the various types of animal you can play---mouse, stag beetle, frog, etc.

Tried to do with them the same thing I try with all my game texts: force the words to do many things at once.

The fiction bit in "Faded World" works as:

a full narrative (an agama lizard wants to get an apple from an abandoned arboretum for her tortoise mentor);

an example of play (here's how you, playing as a tiny animal, might approach difficult challenges);

a sample adventure location (the 1 Utama-inspired setting has branching terrain, discrete encounters, etc).

The character sketches I am particularly pleased with.

Each prompts you with a obvious physical ability (frogs sing; rabbits run)---but there are roleplaying angles to leverage from these traits: the mantis worries about their predator mentality; the mouse has complexes associated with her big-ass family; the shrew loathes his own gnawing hunger.

Of the writing I did in 2021 I am personally most proud of the stuff in "Faded World". I'd never tried animal protagonists before---ie: animal protags closer to the animal than the anthropomorphic. I always thought that it'd be hard to write them without being naff.

The ease I had with this came from Derek. In designing the game he does the simplest, neatest thing. In suggesting settings, Derek says:

"If you are playing with local friends, use your municipality as the setting ... What happens to your beach? Main street? Downtown? Your home?"

The ease I had with this also came from Amanda Lee Franck, who made all the art. I remember her talking about her process.

In walking around, taking reference photos, in making her illustrations, Amanda imagined her eye at the eye-level of the creatures she was drawing: at branch-level, at grass-level.

The ease I had with this comes from the same place, I think. Maybe because of where our minds are, nowadays?

Maybe because the meaning of a human being trying to live in (as opposed to clinging on to) the ruins of the Anthropocene is to live as an animal. At ground level, with more attention paid to rainwater and the earth between concrete.

#writing #animals #in the light of a faded world #amanda lee franck #derek kinsman #ttrpgs #rpgs #apocalypses

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naffeclipse · 4 months

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This scene from the new chapter of AP

"""

Your lips part soundlessly. Eclipse takes the camera in his hand, studying the screen before glancing down at you.

“I want this.”

"""

I think it's my favourite one from an entire fic, it's so cute. Eclipse's curiosity and love for his birdie is so well captured. The want to keep those precious moments and the craft of Y/n close to himself. I think he also loved the fact that Y/n started capturing him, and them in their photos. It's something they love to do, their passion. They said they capture beautiful things. And now they choose to capture him. To capture them together.

This scene is so domestic and lovely. Taking picture with someone you care about at your outing.

There is something so soft about this line and situation. His cute side is showing, I think it always was but only now with Y/n's new perspective on his actions we can see it fully. He wants to have his birdie, he wants this picture, he wants closeness and affection. And he is so happy and proud of himself that he is finally getting it. I wish Y/n would give him a gift in return, big boy deserves it.

Damn Y/n just throw everything, tell your mer husband to pack his bags and fallow you to the warmer waters, move to the seaside, buy a house close to the sea, and live out the rest of your days being cared for by an orca man, you both deserve it. You will start photographing marine life, eclipse being an assistant by finding the epic places, you will make a fortune by that, the end, happy ending. Trust me that's a good plan.

There is an angry mob of people that will choose violence if you choose to abandon the Oreo man. Do not go that way.

Anyway, Naff you are amazing, thank you for this chapter and really this scene caused me such a heart-warming feeling you can't even imagine.

Kisses

I'm melting at this analysis, ahhh! Eclipse sees Y/N finally accept him in the way he understands, which makes him so incredibly happy. Y/N understands Eclipse better than they ever have, and knowing what he's gone through and that they can reason with him, helps them feel more confident in their relationship with him. They're finally eye to eye. It's so wonderful and beautiful (and bittersweet).

I'm really happy you like that line!! Thank you for reading! <3

#apex polarity

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theartistknownaslymond · 2 years

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A playlist for Checkmate-era Philippa? x

mon chois et fait

A band AU playlist for Philippa pining over Francis. cf. Francis pining over Philippa, here

The final piece of the puzzle, if you will (young Philippa’s influences, Philippa’s musical evolution from DK through to RC)

Johnny Cash - Drink To Me Only With Thine Eyes

Erasure - Ship of Fools

Elvis Costello - Deep Dark Truthful Mirror

Shelagh McDonald - Stargazer

Kate Bush - Never Be Mine

Deacon Blue - The World is Lit by Lightning

Queen - Scandal

Pet Shop Boys - I'm Not Scared

New Order - All the Way

Steeleye Span - Seagull

Clannad - Almost Seems (Too Late to Turn)

Donna Summer - Breakaway

Tracy Chapman - Crossroads

Anne Briggs - Go Your Way

Shelagh Mcdonald - Let No Man Steal Your Thyme

The Pogues and Kirsty MacColl - Fairytale of New York

Prince & the Revolution - When Doves Cry

Eurythmics - We Two Are One

Faceclaims: Ellie Kendrick and Patrick Wolf. Idk when or why, but I got it in my head that the music of 1989 was largely naff, but then I started digging and it turns out there are a lot of songs about the difficulty of being in the spotlight while going through private turmoil. So - I hope you all like pain!

1) Yes it’s Ben Jonson’s poem, but sung by Johnny Cash. Technically only released on a later album, but I’m going to assume there was precedent for him and others performing it live in this style - Paul Robeson made it a big hit too, but the guitar version here is more Philippa. It’s *probably* the best I can do for a band AU equivalent to ‘Tant que je vive’, for now, at least, and Philippa has been established to be a big fan of Johnny Cash already.

2) The title of this is also a bit of a Renaissance Easter egg, but the lyrics don’t seem to resemble the text known as the Ship of Fools. 1988/89 were the big years for Erasure, but Pippa will probably have got to know them earlier, when she was working with charities and protest groups in London - Andy Bell having been out and proud from the beginning. I close my eyes and I try to imagine What you're dreaming Why can't you see what you're doing to me? My world is spinning The lyrics also make reference to ‘the baby of the class’, which I think plays on Philippa’s worry that Francis doesn’t take her seriously because of her age, and Francis’ own determination to prove himself outside Richard’s shadow.

3) This album features on so many of my playlists, but it’s really got it all! Philippa is again established to be an Elvis Costello fan in the AU. This is one of the most lyrically obtuse on the album, and fits with Philippa being as reticent to admit what she really feels as Francis is. It’s weird and increasingly troubling, which I do think fits Philippa’s search for information about Francis’ past, and how deep in she gets. A stripping puppet on a liquid stick Gets into it pretty thick A butterfly drinks a turtle's tears But how do you know he really needs it? Because a butterfly feeds on a dead monkey's hand Jesus wept, he felt abandoned You're spellbound baby there's no doubting that Did you ever see a stare like a Persian cat?

4) Keeping her folk roots - under Austin’s influence, but this song (from a woman who disappeared on the cusp of stardom in the 1970s - she turned up about 30 years later explaining that she’d had the mother of all bad trips) doesn’t need much explaining. The lyrics fit Checkmate so well: He was a stargazer She asks what'll the future bring Mercury and Jupiter will bring you wealth and golden rings They have climbed the hill and watched the sun go down to rest He said: "Will you be my friend? I fear that there's nothing left to give, my Lady" She said: "Let's follow the sun behind the hill To where it's hiding." He was a stranger to her His father was a poet Lead her by the hand on the hill Touch the golden sunset How did feelings die, he's afraid to know Why did she have to lie She'd only stay until it's time for her to go She said take the sun in your hands, be glad For this is love you hold.

5) ANY opportunity to put one of my all time favouritest songs on a playlist! But genuinely, it’s all about the unrequited love, the pining, the thinking that the other person is better off without you... Very much a Philippa perspective on Francis and Catherine d’Albon. Plus she could play a cover with the Northumbrian pipes instead of the Uilean pipes :’) And this is where I want to be This is what I need This is where I want to be This is what I need This is where I want to be But I know that this will never be mine

6) It’s maybe more precisely how Francis feels about Philippa, but as with the other playlist for them, I think a certain degree of overlap is inevitable. This is one of Adam’s favourite bands, so Pippa’s bound to encounter their new release on the tour bus or at a party. So maybe you're standing In some foreign town You've walked for miles Till the heat slows you down And your jeans and your curls Are bleached and split And your money and your anger Are all used up Maybe I'm sorry About the light in this place Makes my heart seem cold As the words on these pages Maybe I'm reminded By a shop window display or a decoration Like some church candle that might just burn Dancing under chandeliers and I'm telling you Caught in the headlights and I'm yelling it at you Why is it girl when the world is lit by lightning That I keep telling you that I love you

7) This one is just. Aughh. Philippa is in the midst of a media storm now, it’s been brewing ever since she came back from Las Vegas married to Francis Crawford with an adopted (sure, the world says, ‘adopted’) child. She’s trying to make the world better, trying to work out what kind of career she wants/what kind of music is ‘hers’, and in the middle of it she’s realised she actually loves the man she’s married to, who hasn’t yet managed to divorce her, but is publicly dating a huge French star and is also plastered all over the papers...papers that doubtless have much to say about both their sexuality, too. And like, yeah, this was released in 1989, it was one of the biggest albums of the year. It's only a life to be Twisted and broken They'll see the heartache They'll see our love break, yeah They'll hear me pleading I'll say for God sakes Over and over and over And over again, yeah

8) Neil Tennant, a fellow Geordie who refuses to talk about his sexuality to the slavering mob? He’s also since emerged as a big backer of Labour (prior to the 2000s anyway) and is a trustee in Elton John’s AIDs foundation. So definitely another of Pippa’s Ringed Castle contacts. They probably bonded over their shared love of Elvis Costello’s protest songs. And then there’s the lyrics. I mean: What have you got to say of shadows in your past? I thought that if you paid, you'd keep them off our backs But I don't care, baby, I'm not scared What have you got to hide? Who will it compromise? Where do we have to be so I can laugh and you'll be free? I'd go anywhere, baby, I don't care I'm not scared

9) Another album likely nicked from Adam, though they were also buddies of Neil Tennant. One for Pippa learning to find her own way between the music she grew up with (that Austin insists she should foreground) and the world she’s been involved in in London. Probably a bit of a manifesto, trying to toughen herself up for life after the divorce: It don't take no Houdini To tell me what I am Parasites and literasites They'd burn me if they can But I don't give a damn About what those people say They pick you up and kick you out They hurt you every day It takes years to find the nerve To be apart from what you've done To find the truth inside yourself And not depend on anyone

10) So, this is the kind of...folk rock that the ‘80s got. Bouncy! It’s also not actually a folk song I can identify, I think it was written by the band. It can be interpreted in light of the triangles in Checkmate - Catherine/Francis/Philippa and Francis/Philippa/Austin, plus Philippa’s own mission to find out about Francis at all costs. Penny the hero, Penny the fool The gold watch she gave me I'll treasure They say that it's only a game after all Apart from the pain it's a pleasure Seagull, seagull, three three in a bed...

11) More ‘80s folk! Clannad and Enya were getting big at this point, but this particular album again has a lot of Francis/Philippa relevant feelings. I just put this track on though, for the obvious...trying to work out if a relationship is still possible after painful revelations and public separation. Ah, Austin has no idea why she’s listening to it so much! To you I saw the sad decline A rift become a storm Stayed so cold last night This lonely heart inside me says

Almost seems to late to turn What to do if I'm to learn Almost seems to late to turn

12) Despite the mid-’80s rumours that she was homophobic, Donna Summer seems to have spent quite a lot of time and effort (in 1989 no less) on refuting those rumours (true, on the level of ‘some of my best writers are gay!’). And she is, after all, Queen of Disco. But Pippa and Danny have to have something to belt out together on tour bus karaoke nights! But I don't think she can take it And just friendship can't replace it She'll be strong enough for two Although it's hard for her to do She'll breakaway Ooh, ooh, ooh she'll breakaway

13) Ahh, someone had to make folk music cool again <3 Tracy is a gorgeous guitarist and singer, just the kind of inspiration Philippa needs when she’s feeling a bit lost at this end of the decade. What’s that? Another artist who is constantly badgered about their sexuality and refuses to talk about it? A second album dealing with the loss of privacy that comes with fame? She played at an Amnesty International set in London in ‘88, I hope Philippa got the chance to hang out with her then :) All you folks think you own my life But you never made any sacrifice Demons they are on my trail I'm standing at the crossroads of the hell I look to the left I look to the right There're hands that grab me on every side

14) Now this one ain’t from the 1980s, but Annie’s been established as an influence on Philippa (and Kate) from the start, and it’s this kind of pared-back, folk-club-friendly stuff that Austin’s probably hoping to get her back into. Bert Jansch and others helped to make this song Annie wrote big, so for Philippa there’s a bittersweet side to the fact that this song, written by a woman, not a traditional tune, was only recognised as being important when men started playing it (side-eyeing Austiiiiinnn). But she’ll certainly put it in her sets if she thinks Francis is watching :’) Friends and strangers bring stories When asked where you might be Magic stories they have brought to me You go your way, my love

15) This is like...the quintessential folksong for lamenting giving up your virginity to some useless guy who only wanted that from you and nothing more. For when your thyme is past and gone He'll care no more for you, you For every place that your thyme was waste Will all spread o'er with rue, rue Will all spread o'er with rue For woman is a branchy tree And man a clinging vine, vine And from her branches carelessly He takes what he can find, find He takes what he can find

16) I know we’ve kind of reached a point where people think it’s basic to say this is the best Christmas song ever, but actually, it is. So there. It’s perfect. It does contain the f-slur yes, as Shane McGowan says, it’s part of the persona Kirsty is singing, though he has also said he’s quite happy for it to be cut when people play it now. And we’ve had Pogues and Kirsty on Pippa playlists/inspiration lists before, too. Anyway - I propose: Francis and Philippa singing this live together, both madly in love with each other, knowing how in love they are with each other, daily pretending to be indifferent to one another, now having to play at hate-loving each other, while the whole world watches going ‘wtf is going on here?!’ K: "I could have been someone" S: Well, so could anyone K: You took my dreams from me When I first found you S: I kept them with me, babe I put them with my own Can't make it all alone I've built my dreams around you

17) Couldn’t have a Pippa playlist without Prince :’) And yeah, the album’s earlier, but I’m not sure Batdance really fits the mood here, plus it complements Purple Rain on Francis’ playlist. How can you just leave me standing Alone in a world that's so cold? (So cold) Maybe I'm just too demanding Maybe I'm just like my father: too bold Maybe you're just like my mother She's never satisfied (She's never satisfied) Why do we scream at each other? This is what it sounds like When doves cry

18) A big bluesy ballad to finish up! Annie Lennox is from the same cut as a lot of other artists here: she’s done a lot of activism and fundraising, played the Mandela charity set in ‘88 and has been a big supporter of LGBT+ rights since appearing in an early Eurythmics video with short-cropped hair and a suit on. Per Wikipedia: ‘Lennox was viewed as the female version of Boy George. They appeared together on the front cover of the British music magazine Smash Hits in December 1983 with the headline "Which one is the boy?".‘ Stay classy, British music press. People like us Are too messed up To live in solitude I'm gonna cure that problem, baby I'm gonna fix it good...

#character: philippa somerville #playlists: period-appropriate #ship: the open sea #character: francis crawford #band au: checkmate #ficspiration: lyrics

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joemuggs · 2 years

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Goodbye Fletch

It's massively sad to hear of the death of Andy Fletcher of Depeche Mode, the level headed lynchpin that held the band together over forty (!) years. DM have been one of THE constants in my life ever since I discovered them as a gawky, ready-to-turn-goth 13 year old circa Black Celebration. I wrote the below appreciation for Q, and pick of ten favourites from across their career, in 2011. Damn I really love that band. RIP Fletch.

Depeche Mode have never quite felt like they have the megastar status their commercial success and songwriting brilliance warrants. For all Dave Gahan's Jesus-posing, bum-wiggling and heroin-soaked dicing with death, and Martin Gore's strange S&M transvestitism, they've still always been those same gawky boys from Basildon. In their early, Vince Clarke-led, electropop days they never quite had the arty cachet of a Eurythmics or Visage, nor the flashy clubbability of Duran Duran. And even as Gore's darker songwriting took over, Clarke's classically-trained replacement Alan Wilder brought in more industrial sounds and Gahan got stubblier and deeper of voice, there remained a gauche, slightly nerdy undercurrent.

None of which stopped them becoming a gargantuan and gloriously bizarre entity. At one point they rivalled U2 for global popularity and Motley Crue for debauchery, yet still felt subversive. They spread a darkly irreligious attitude across heartland America, and remained musically innovative and unintentionally funky enough to command the respect of the godfathers of modern dance music (“They’ve set the standard in what they do,” said Detroit techno don Derrick May back in 1989; “They’re right on time, right in synch, and they can’t even help it.”).

Perhaps, though, it's actually that nerdiness that makes them so powerful, that commands the passions of a legion of misfits from bogglingly different backgrounds across the world. A look at Turner-prize winning artist Jeremy Deller's beautiful documentary on their fans “The Posters Came From The Walls” shows untold moving stories of what they mean to people. They were a symbol of outsider rebellion and self-expression for Russians under Communism, and still are for Iranians under religious law. They provide succour and inspiration for the lonely and unorthodox, not in the rather self-conscious “you are all my children” way of a Marilyn Manson or Lady Gaga, but through their inescapable, rather awkward sincerity. And their influence has rippled through the oddest corners of popular culture – after all, who else could have feasibly been covered by Johnny Cash, The Saturdays, Susan Boyle and Rammstein?

Through it all, their success has been buoyed by a combination of grandiose vision and experimental sound with brilliantly simple songs. Despite a propensity for childishly naff rhymes - “everything counts / in large amounts”; “words are very / unnecessary”; “people are people so why should it be / you and I should get along so aw-ful-ly?” - chief songwriter Gore has always had a knack for pinning down sometimes quite abstract and uncomfortable emotions into basic, memorable forms, and the absolute sincerity of the band's delivery makes them hit home all the harder. No-one else has managed to match their ability to put such strange, emotionally stripped-bare songs into forms that can reach out to such gigantic crowds.

Laughed at by the music press right through the 1980s, and almost destroyed by their own excesses in the 90s, DM remain prophets without honour at home in the UK. You can't imagine them playing the Olympics with Duran Duran and Coldplay, despite matching or exceeding the success of either, nor do you see them knocking about with the Stings and Eltons of this world. And long may they stay that way. Maybe it's galling for them not to be quite accepted into rock aristocracy, but they can be rightfully proud of how deeply etched their music is into ordinary (and extraordinary) people's hearts. Gauche they may be, but they have more claim than most to genuinely be the people's band, as well as being loved and respected by generations of the most exploratory musicians; they are our greatest outsider megastars.

New Life (1981)

Vince Clarke's naïve but inventive Beach Boys harmonies and insectoid synthesisers are still delightfully inexplicable.

Blasphemous Rumours (1984)

Grim existential humour and industrial metal-banging: an unconventional route to global megastardom.

Fly on the Windscreen (Final) (from Black Celebration, 1986)

DM at their most death obsessed – but with a freakishly funky electro groove, which neo-Goth imitators never quite got.

Never Let Me Down Again (1987)

OK the “houses” / “trousers” rhyme is Gore's greatest clanger – yet somehow the stadium-sized drama still works.

Personal Jesus (Acoustic) (1989)

A beautiful stripping bare of the song's bluesy swing long before Johnny Cash did the same.

Policy Of Truth (KLF Trancentral Mix) (1990)

Now practically the biggest band in the world, DM were still weird enough to allow in sheep bleating, Bob Hoskins samples and hypnotic grooves.

Higher Love (from Songs of Faith and Devotion Live, 1993)

The height of drug-ravaged decadence, a voluptuous anthem to being swept away.

Dirt (b-side to “I Feel Loved” single, 2001)

The Stooges's defiance and sleaze brought into the 21st century with techno legend Mark “LFO” Bell producing.

Perfect (from Sound of the Universe, 2009)

It has a cinematic sweep but at the heart of “Perfect” is a lovely, simple pop song about frustration and regret.

Leave in Silence (Claro Intellecto 'The Last Time' Remix) (from Remixes 2: 81-11, 2011)

Fragile, beautiful and fresh – how many veteran bands could do something this daring with 30-year-old back catalogue?

#depeche mode #electropop #techno #electronica #new wave #basildon #goth #industrial

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harri-etvane · 16 days

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Whiny moment about AO3 stats/engagement a sec

So I only check my stats twice a month now; once at the beginning and once at the end - checked them today for the end of April & noticed a fairly big change in stats for one fic. Made me realise a fair chunk of people did Not like that last chapter of Fidelis which is fine cos Unspoken Yearning is not for everyone & that last chapter was a lot more obvious than normal. Like - I get that we write for ourselves etc etc but I'm rly proud of that fic and knowing some people disliked that last chapter enough to delete their bookmark for it kinda makes me feel shitty?? Coupled with the fact that the last....three (?) oneshots I've posted have had absolutely naff all engagement is just like;

Urgh y'know? idk

#I'm not falling out of love with writing I might just press pause on AO3 for a min #It's my own fault I should not have looked lmao #Tbf I post a lot and it probably gets on people's nerves sorry xo

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spooniemumoftwo · 1 year

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PTSD and ME

Living with ME is hard at the best of times, let alone in times when there is trauma, intense stress and just general 'naffness' (yes that's a new word, and yes, as a speech and language therapist, I'm going to use it!) I'm not even sure how to start to address what we've been through or how to summarise the effect its all had on my ME. Where do I start?!

18 months ago, I was involved in a significant RTA along with my two littles, on a routine morning school run. Apparently, a head on collision with a truck is not the best idea, who knew!?🤦🏻‍♀️ Its not something I ever imagined happening to us, and not something I ever want anyone to go through. It's been horrific, and recovery has taken so so much more out of me than I'd ever considered.

To start with, there was the accident itself and roadside recovery, police, investigations and legal stuff to sort. Maybe it's just me, but I'd never considered what happened after a significant RTA. So many different things to consider including contacting the police, medical assistance, roadside recovery, motor insurance...the list goes on. A complete minefield. Luckily, there were people who sorted most of that for me initially.

There's the physical injuries we all suffered. Again, not something I'd ever considered really as 'something like that won't happen to us'. Naiive I now know. The littles sustained head injuries, significant bruising and some thankfully minor cuts and scrapes. By all accounts they were thankfully incredibly lucky. Sadly, I sustained front and back head injury, several upper and lower limb injuries, spinal injuries, internal injuries, and a completely crushed ankle, as well as some very colourful bruising. One surgery later, and I'm now the 'proud' owner of a bionic ankle being held together with more metal than bone, and am awaiting potentially three more surgeries on the same ankle in the near future. I'm left with continuous significant pain daily, very limited mobility and a physical disability on top of the invisible disability I already had. Great!

What I really hadn't considered was the psychological impact all of this would have on me and my littles. Reliving the narrative of what had happened to us at medical appointment after medical appointment, nightmares, flashbacks, grief, anger and all other emotions aside, knowing we had to continue and effectively, 'move on' from the ordeal has been a huge journey, and we aren't there yet. In some ways, I'm hugely grateful for the dash cam footage from a vehicle behind us, which answered some very pertinent questions for me, and yet, in other ways, seeing the accident unfold from an outside perspective has been utterly terrifying and traumatising in equal measure.

Listening to my littles, the people it is my job to protect against anything, ask about the accident, talk about different things they remember, and ask even the people most familiar to them whether they are a good driver before getting in their cars has been heartbreaking. Being told by my littles that they felt I had let them down because I couldn't get them out of the car has nearly broken me so many times. We've been through weeks of therapy with the littles, and yet even now, we have to anticipate and expect the anxieties and questions that surface daily following the trauma they have experienced.

Not only have my littles struggled since the accident itself, but I have suffered significant psychological trauma since then as well. Flashbacks whenever my eyes closed, anxiety about getting in a car, and anxiety about being near a road. Avoidance of situations, reluctance to leave the house, low mood, sensitivities to certain noises or sights. The extreme range of emotions I still experience on a daily basis, from fear, anxiety and grief, to anger and frustration as well as a sense of 'it's not fair and 'why me?' have been exhausting to manage, and the list goes on. This has all been entirely exhausting and debilitating whilst exaccerbating my ME CFS symptoms.

Dealing with my apparently 'significant' Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) following the accident in October 2021 has taken everything I've had. I've been through various psychological assessments, weekly counselling, Reiki therapy, Hypnosis, EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitisation and Reprocessing) therapy to process what has happened, and emotion focussed Cognitive Behavioural Therapy to name a few interventions. Each of these, whilst targeting a specific aspect of my PTSD, have been exhausting and significantly fatigue inducing in their own way. Whether it was the continued processing of very raw information after sessions with a professional, or the strategies I needed to implement between sessions; keeping track of the various appointments I had each week, or allowing myself the time to recover and recuperate whilst I was signed off work, has all taken its toll on my body.

One of the interventions I have engaged with, was role playing and writing a letter to the other driver to explain what I feel and the impact of the accident itself. This has brought up several very intense emotions during these tasks, and has often left me very fatigued for a number of days each time we have explored this. The heightened emotions I experience and the anxiety these tasks cause me, have needed to be managed very carefully. I've had to allow a number of days after each session of therapy to continue processing what has been discussed, to continue reflecting on that session, and to recover from the post exertional malaise that is so typical of ME CFS, yet another symptom I have that has been exacerbated by PTSD.

PTSD is cruel in any circumstance. PTSD symptoms differ from one person to another however the symptoms are often severe and persistent enough to have a significant impact on the person's day-to-day life. Add in a chronic illness such as ME CFS, where energy and emotional resilience are extremely limited, and there is another level of impact. Living with ME CFS daily for the last few years, I've been acutely aware of my need for rest, quiet time and space to recuperate and recharge my energy levels. With PTSD, its been much harder to do this and yet much more important. The added anxiety I've experienced when attempting daily activities such as travelling, being outside the comfort of my home, being away from my children and being independent, has caused increased fatigue, as well as exaccerbating other symptoms such as headaches, brain fog and memory issues. My motivation to leave the house and socialise has been reduced and my desire to communicate with others and to engage in activities I enjoy has also been reduced.

Throughout this whole experience, I've been hugely aware of my ME CFS symptoms and the increase in the severity of these. I've had to be very careful to implement self care strategies and to allow myself the time to rest and regulate my fatigue. I've been very lucky to have some incredible family and friends who have been with me every step of the way, facilitating self care when I've been unable to prioritise this for myself, sitting in hospital waiting rooms with me, driving me around the county, and being there for me to lean on for support when things have been tough. Seeing a familiar face in Accident and Emergency, and knowing there may be familiar faces at some my appointments have definitely helped me along. Having ME has, without a doubt, made managing and recovering from the accident more complex and drawn out so far, but the PTSD symptoms I've experienced have been more complex and draining as a result of the ME CFS.

We are a long way from 'recovered' still, and there is a long way for me to go to have my PTSD and ME CFS symptoms under control, but with the support of some fabulous family and friends, I have no doubt we will get there in time. I couldn't have got this far without the people closest to me, and am so grateful and thankful to each and every person who has been there for us all.

#me cfs #cfs (chronic fatigue syndrome)#myalgic encephalomyelitis #ptsd #trauma #post traumatic stress disorder #cfsme #cfs/me #mecfs #chronic illness

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professional-air-guitarist · 6 years

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Hey so I covered FIDLAR's new song 'Are you High?' the other day and thought I'd post it here for the shits and giggles.

#fidlar #are you high #cover #acoustic #kind of proud of this ngl #even if it the sound quality is a bit naff

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glorious-blackout · 3 years

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Writing tag game

I was tagged by @elorianna @alexxturner-me-on and @lanatural-books - thank you! 🥰💖

How many works do you have on Ao3?

I have 54 works on AO3 and 73 on FFNet (though there’s a lot of crossover between the two). I’ve been at it for ten years now so the list of fandoms is broad to say the least...

What's your total Ao3 word count?

479558... I have a feeling my current WIP might push that over 500,000 🤯

What're your top 5 fics by kudos?

Watch Our Souls Fade Away (Infinity War/Guardians of the Galaxy)

Silence is Golden (Guardians of the Galaxy)

What Might Have Been (Coco)

A Father’s Pride (Guardians of the Galaxy)

Way Down We Go (Guardians of the Galaxy)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to! I always aim to say a quick thank you at the very least, because it always takes me aback when someone says something nice about my work. If I’m particularly busy or if there’s an overwhelming number of comments, I’ll at the very least leave a massive thank-you in the notes to everyone who commented 💜

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

God, I was such an angst junkie in my teens that I could give you at least ten examples. I’ve abused the Major Character Death/Tragedy tags often enough in my time... Of the ones I can actually remember, We Are The Universe is possibly the bleakest overall.

You’ve Always Been Here should be an honourable mention, considering the implications of that ending were so grim, I had to write a 38,000 word fix-it to make myself feel better 😅

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

Most of my The Martian fics had nice, light-hearted endings. I also had a series called ‘Brothers in Arms’ based on the friendship between Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes which ended with them as bickering old men, which is still an image I’m very fond of.

Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you've written?

I’ve only written one (technically two but they’re part of the same series) which is You’ve Always Been Here. I guess it counts as crazy considering it was wildly self-indulgent and is more a crossover between two albums as opposed to the two bands (Muse and Arctic Monkeys) involved!

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not hate necessarily, but occasional comments that have rubbed me up the wrong way or left me feeling a bit deflated. One example I can think of is someone who read seven chapters of my story and the only comment they could offer was ‘I don’t like that (insert random event) happened, I would have preferred it another way’. Or you occasionally get people who only comment to nitpick on one typo in a 1000+ word story and offer no other feedback whatsoever.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Nope! I can handle reading it regardless of the genders involved, but I am far too much of a blushing lesbian to ever write it for most of my favourite ships 😂

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge - I've had a couple reposted to other sites but they usually credit me.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I’ve had a couple translated into Cantonese, and I stumbled upon a Thai translation of one of my stories once (they didn’t ask for permission but I was credited, so I just found it really cool).

What's your all time favourite ship?

Not sure I have an all-time favourite, but Milex currently own my heart.

What's a WIP you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

Thankfully the only unfinished WIP on my plate is one I definitely intend to finish! Still at the first draft/basic editing stage though so we’ll see 😉

What are your writing strengths?

I’m terrible at judging my own writing, but I think I’m pretty good at introspective character writing and I have a weird knack for emotional/intense scenes.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Too many to count. I’m absolutely terrible when it comes to wordy, run-on sentences. Especially with unedited first drafts - I could honestly put Charles Dickens to shame. I’m also pretty naff at dialogue, which is why I prefer writing moody introspective stuff.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I've incorporated occasional words in dialogue but never full lines, and only after ensuring I had the correct spelling/definitions. I probably wouldn’t be brave enough to do full lines of dialogue in another language.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

My first ever fic was a Muse one which has long since been deleted. Weirdly it took me nine years to write for them again, though they’ve been an inspiration more times than I can count.

What's your favourite fic you've written?

I’m torn between ‘You’ve Always Been Here’ and ‘Watch Our Souls Fade Away’ and in both cases it’s more because of the enormous fun I had during the writing process than the quality of the fics themselves. I think the former is the better written of the two, but I’ll always be proud of the latter. The response it got was incredibly overwhelming at the time and I still can’t believe that a story centered around Nebula got so much love and attention.

Also whenever I look back on it, I’m astounded that I managed to write a 60,000 word story within the space of about 3 weeks. I want that motivation back...

I think most of my writer friends have already been tagged (except @rock-n-roll-fantasy but I don’t think you have an AO3!), but feel free to join in if you’d like a go 🥰

#writing tag #this is so rambly I'm sorry

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