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ceesimz · 3 days

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Leave Before The Lights Come On

Title is a Arctic Monkeys song! This trope has been done more times than I've blinked my whole life but this is my version, enjoy :) (ps it's not long but it's a lil bit spicy and slightly ridiculous)

Award shows, charity events, dinners with red carpets. It's how things started months ago, and it's still how the story goes now.

Everyone knew what private but not secret meant nowadays, it seemed to be the go-to for basically all couples. Yet, very few understood the thrill of private and secret.

Every night spent at these things was a new performance for you both, dancing around each other with fleeting glances and lingering, teasing touches. A chance to start fresh over and over, something most couples never endeavour in anymore, but it's so addicting. A game of cat and mouse that always ends in the same way, and despite that fact, it's still intoxicating all the same.

"One beer please."

"Just a beer'll do."

You know who is next to you, there's no use guessing. It always starts like this. And when she slithers closer, elbows rested on the bar that she's slumped over compared to you standing with perfect posture and hands clasped around your own arms that crossed over your chest, the cuff links of her suit sleeves glimmer in your eye line. Her hands purposely move to fiddle with them, knowing your attention is on her hands and the rings that are scattered across her fingers. She knows you too well, knows your eyes unintentionally fall to that part of her whenever they're on display, and it causes the first simmer of something to bubble in your abdomen.

At once, the bartender places the beer bottles down in front of you both, each reaching out to grab it and turning to the other. With eyes holding the other's gaze, you and Leah take a swig of your drinks, a silent agreement that the night has begun.

To your dismay though, the scales have already tipped in Leah's favour as she gets the first laugh. She takes another sip of her beer, first moving her eyes from your face to the way your hands make the bottle look bigger than it is as you hold it with both, rather than Leah who holds it with just one. Then, she trails her eyes downwards and up again, smirking smugly at you before walking away, not without a brush against your shoulder.

You shake your head just as the host announces the event will begin in ten minutes and advises everyone to find their seats. Working with one of the most well-known magazines got you great seats surrounded by good people to network with, and though if your manager found out she'd probably retract all future invites, you couldn't care less about networking. Not when you were stuck in the most mind-numbing game of back and forth, push and pull, take and give. You could be seated beside some random Tom, Dick or Harry from a no-name town in England, or you could be sat beside someone like Serena Williams, and it'd make no difference.

Leah Williamson, your new girlfriend and possibly the most frustrating yet attractive person you'd seen, was in the room. That was enough incentive for all thoughts to fly far from your mind.

The last event you went to was probably the most notable for your relationship. It should have been a pretty important one for you to pay attention to, considering it was hosted by GQ, but how could you when a certain blonde in a scantily clad dress was begging to be your girlfriend all night? She had asked in just about every way possible, and you would have said yes from the first instance if it weren't for her attention being pulled away before you could get a word in.

From whispering it in your ear as she slipped past you during a conversation with some of GQ's most important employees, to handing you a serviette with words written on that still send shivers down your spine when you think back to them, and even meeting your eyes from across the room in your respective seats and mouthing the question 'Mine yet?' with an upward quirk of her eyebrows. If you thought that part of the night was memorable, you didn't want to talk about the visceral reaction you got thinking back to the after events that occurred in the comfort of your hotel room.

But now, here in the present, you found your seat at a table with shareholders and employees and celebrities scattered around it, distinctively uninterested in every single one of them. They try to strike up conversation and you let them, your workaholic autopilot kicking in to entertain their interest for some time. These things are always boring, that's what makes them the perfect environment for this kind of thing. Sure, some were more fun than others and both yourself and Leah had found them enjoyable in the past, but there was an added element to them now that you were quite sure you could never give up.

The host drags on far longer than needed and to you it seems they're rather self-indulgent, revelling in the fact they've got the attention of the room. They talk as if everyone is hanging on the edge of their seats, grasping onto every word they said, when in reality it couldn't be further from the truth. Or at least in your case anyway. Apparently your boredom showed a little too much, because the person beside you asked if you're alright at a lull in the first speech of the evening. You reassure them you are fine, just in need of a drink since your beer had already gone down by now, and with a thanks from yourself they turn back away from you.

Your eyes search the room then, giving in to the temptation of her, only to find blue eyes staring right back at you from a few tables over. Her hair is slicked back into a low bun and she has one too many buttons of her white shirt undone - she's hot and she knows it. You still can't figure out if that's annoying or, unfortunately, attractive. The aura that exudes off of her hits you even from across the room, a combination of confidence and a smugness that gets under your skin in the best way.

It's at this moment that a short intermission is announced, allowing for people to go to the bathroom or fetch a drink and some snacks, or whatever they care to do. All you know is that there's a certain person in the room you've got to see and you need a new beverage, so you head to the bar.

Except, you're stopped in your tracks along the way. A body blocks you from going any further as she side-steps in front of you and shoves a champagne flute into your hand. In her hand is a sweet Manhattan cocktail, one with a cherry in it that immediately catches your eye. This is your chance to equal the score.

Maintaining eye contact with her, you delicately take the cherry and, with the most innocent look you could muster from under your eyelashes, you bite it from the stem. Those same piercing blue eyes track every movement of yours, from the moment you snatched it from her drink to the way your throat bobbed as you swallowed. In the low light, you manage to make out the sight of her pupils tripling in size, and just like that, the cards are in your favour again.

Before Leah can react, you're sauntering away without a word having been exchanged, and you can feel her staring incessantly at you as you drop back into the ocean of people in the room. She curses under her breath, downs her drink, and heads back to the bar.

After that interaction, you actually did fall into an invigorating conversation with the people on your table. You discredited them, in the midst of your tunnel vision you didn't realise who it was you were sat with. Turns out, they're some fascinating people who you could really do with speaking to again soon.

It's as you're talking to one of them, offering to go collect a tray of drinks for the table, that someone leans over you and refills your glass with more champagne. Initially, you guess it's just one of the event workers, but then those damned Arsenal earrings jump into view and your senses are overcome with her perfume. If she asked why there were goosebumps on your arms, you'd shrug and blame it on the chill of the hall. But, your question is, where the fuck did she get a whole bottle of champagne from?

She leaves as quickly as she arrived, leaving only a trace of her signature scent in her wind. You jut your tongue into your cheek momentarily - that was a bold move by the defender. It obviously caught the attention of the people on your table who were feeling as if they may have interrupted perhaps a private moment, but you wave them off and swiftly switch topics.

To their rather inquisitive annoyance, they demand you go get the drinks you'd offered to get since you weren't going to tell them about... whatever had just happened. So you do, you take your champagne flute with you and wander over to the bar with a focused look on your face, waiting for the right time to strike and get your payback.

That happens sooner than you could have guessed, and it forces a smirk upon your face as you approach your prey that's trapped in a seemingly boring conversation, judging by the unimpressed look on her face. She doesn't see you coming, her arms are crossed over her chest and her mouth is down-turned into a frown, another beer bottle in her hand. You see her sigh as you get closer, her head on a swivel but looking in entirely the wrong direction.

The set up is perfect, perfect for you to be able to walk past her straight to the bar with a little taunting. However, you're feeling bolder now, urged on by the alcohol in your system. Instead of a simple brush along her body, your free hand drops down to slide under her blazer and sleaze dangerously low across her toned back. It's a lingering touch, you don't pull your hand away until the very last second. You don't have to look back at her to know she's watching you go.

To both your individual irritation, the next hour or so of the night doesn't allow for anymore sly digs and heated encounters. It's so unbelievably dull, just ramble after ramble of people bragging and kissing each other's ass as they speak. It gets to around forty-five minutes of this bullshit before a spiteful plan forms in your head.

A few of the people on your table had switched seats, ensuring they get the most out of the night. You didn't care for it all, zoning out countless times so far, but when the guy beside you turns to you with a blissfully oblivious smile on his face, you know what you have to do.

The next however long, you converse with this guy more and indulge him in pointless topics that really are so fucking stale and tedious, but you have to play the long game here. And before you'd even done anything half as interesting yet, there's already daggers being forced into the side of your face.

It all comes to a head when you laugh and swat his shoulder in an exaggerated manner, giggling like a school girl at... honestly, you couldn't even remember. But he lavished in your amusement, shuffling his chair ever so slightly closer and throwing an arm around the back of your chair. He brushes his hair back with his other hand, exposing his less than favourable hairline, and really you have to hold back a gag at the fact you're doing this.

At that point, you decide you have to get away from him and his dreary, lifeless, and nonexistent charisma. So you throw one last look at Leah's direction, stifling a grin at her flared nostrils and completely unimpressed demeanour, before excusing yourself from your conversation and sliding out from your seat. Whether Leah had the guts to follow you or not, you weren't sure, but you were just glad you were away from that guy.

Unbeknownst to you, Leah had suddenly gotten up from her chair the second she saw you rise, and she was marching through the room to pace after you. The game was entirely forgotten for her at this point, the image of you with him tattooed on her eyelids. Immaturely, she had to stop herself from spitting at him as she walked past, settling for a warning glare instead.

You have all of two seconds to yourself in the bathroom, checking yourself out in the mirror, before the door slams against the wall with a resounding thud. A gloating smirk is on your face from the moment she walks in, and you stare at her for a moment then turn back to the mirror, pretending to fix your lipstick.

"Really?" Leah shrugged her shoulders more aggressively than you had ever seen anyone before, holding her hands out in an outraged gesture. "You really did that?"

"S'just the game, Leah. You know that." You replied simply, resisting the urge to meet her stare.

It's silent between you both then, possibly the most charged silence you've ever found yourself in. Leah takes a few mindless steps around the room without a particular direction, eyes flicking back to you every second. At once, she stops, just off to your side, and slips her hands into the pockets of her black slacks, kissing her teeth and raising her eyebrows at you. The moment she goes to say something, there's voices coming from the corridor leading to the bathroom. You turn to look at her then, daring her to act first.

She does.

She takes full advantage of the moment, gripping your upper arm tightly and tugging you into one of the cubicles. You gasp quietly in shock, caught off-guard by her actions, and you grumble unintelligibly at the triumphant grin on her face. Her hands are tight on your hips, meanwhile yours are crossed over your chest in disapproval.

"Flirting with a guy? That's a new low." Leah taunted, each stroke of her thumb unintentionally raising the fabric of your black dress.

"Says the one that's so riled up, she dragged me into a toilet cubicle." You hit back, refusing to give in. Leah just shrugs, purses her lips, and takes a quick glance down to your now exposed thigh before looking back at you.

"I'm not riled up. You're the one getting antsy here, you know I'm winning and that's why you had to start feeling up that scraggly arsehole out there. Think again, sweetheart." Fuck, she might have gotten you there.

"Maybe I found him attractive." It's a weak defence, even you know that. Leah knew it too, if the slight raise of one eyebrow was anything to go by.

"Okay. One, you're in a relationship. Two, you're in a lesbian relationship. Three, you hear that?" She looks around in feigned confusion, cupping her hand around her ear briefly before turning back to you in what looks like a stupid, cartoon light bulb moment. "Oh yeah, you're pretty fucking gay!"

You roll your eyes and huff, shaking your head at her idiocy and turning your attention to the wall behind her.

"What was his name? Tell me about him, if he was attractive enough to feel the need to flirt with him." She was picking and choosing every teasing remark from the file in her mind to get under your skin.

"...his name was Dirk." The bark of laughter she lets out at that makes you flinch a little. Maybe his name was a little amusing, but right now to you there wasn't a single funny thing on earth.

"Dirk? Really? Did he come with a Swiss army knife and a granola bar in his pocket? Did he have a flannel shirt under his knit sweater? And a tent in his car, ready for a hike through the Grand Canyon?"

As it turns out, your last thought was a little far off.

The giggle bubbles out of you before you can think to stop it, and you lightly push Leah's face away from you with a hand to her cheek. She turns back to you with a grin, knowing she had won this evening. To be fair, she has won nearly every evening so far. She was on a winning streak you really had no plans of stopping. Not when it got you to this moment here, at the end of it.

"Out of all the guys in the room, I chose a pretty shit one." You surrendered in a murmur, Leah nodding.

"It's alright, look who you get to go home with."

Her voice had dropped to a whisper as she stepped further into your space, her nose nudging against your jaw where her mouth rested just above your pulse point. The shivers you got without even barely being touched were enough of a reaction for her. But, she was greedy when it came to you.

One arm slipped around your waist, holding you to her tightly as her large hand splayed out across your lower back. Her head dipped further down, her lips moving to press open-mouthed kisses to your exposed collarbone.

"Let's get out of here. I'm done now." She murmured into your skin, turning her face more toward your neck and leaving softer, slower pecks there.

"Don't you wanna get your payback? Otherwise you're giving up the win. I was more than ready to get back out there, the night isn't over." You were lying, you were more than ready to get the hell out of here, but you also weren't going to pass up on the chance to tease her just once more.

"I'll get my payback when we get to the hotel."

That's all she needed to say.

These nights had a certain characteristic to them, and that was possibly the most anticipated time of the evening. As the hosts draw out the end of the event, thanking people you've never heard of and have a large lack of care for, you and Leah were already gone.

Normally, it was a fierce wait, hanging on to the other's every move, everything else in the room simply just background noise, as you wait for who blinks first. Who gives in to the tension and ends the night before the lights come up, before the eyes of the room see you chase one another to the exit.

Tonight though, neither of you have the patience.

Regardless of the time you leave, it's the same situation every time for your organised driver; he drops you off and, under strict instruction by his management, waits for you to come back so he can drive you to the hotel or wherever you want to go. Except, you never come, he doesn't see you for the rest of the night once you enter the building. He's used to it by now, a little in love with it since he's getting paid for nothing, he just has to wait for your inevitable apology text telling him you won't be needing a ride home.

Tonight is just like the others - Leah ushers you into the back of an Uber with a hand on your waist, sliding in beside you and slamming the door shut with a smirk on her face after she gives one last glance around. There's never anyone watching, nobody knows where to look and nobody probably even cares, but she does it anyway. She could imagine the articles that might get written about her if the pair of you were ever spotted, and that fuels her even more. Maybe that's the alcohol in her system, but the thoughts run through her veins and she can't help but turn to you, grab your face, and dive into a kiss that's desperate and hot, and the tension of the night reaches its peak.

The cab driver just shakes his head, pulling away from the curb as the pair of you stay stuck in your own world. It's a few minutes later when you both pull away, cheeks flushed red and lips a tad swollen as you put your belts on. Straight away, Leah's hand falls to your lap and you hold it tightly with both of your own, looking up at her with a certain feeling swirling through your eyes that drives her crazy. Her hand moves, then, to the back of your neck as she pushes you towards her for another urgent kiss.

"You're lucky I'm not really the jealous type. I could have done a lot worse in there when you started flirting with Dirk." She comments breathlessly after, a displeased quirk to her mouth that hints she is in fact somewhat jealous.

"I'll make sure to do a better job next time then." You tell her in a feigned nonchalant way.

Leah stared at you then, her hand clutching the back of your neck as she gave you a look that warned you to not even think about such things. To be honest, you couldn't. You were hers just as much as she was yours. There was no other way to live than like that.

#leah williamson x reader #woso x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson #woso fic #woso imagine #woso #woso community

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ask-the-pioneer · 5 hours

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"I've always been captivated by them. Something about the shiny exterior, how they glimmer when you tumble them around in your hands. My younger self would obsess about them, a childlike fascination. Even back then I instinctively knew they had value. My mom would use pearls I found to pay for a safe passage at scavenger tolls. We tried to bypass those points as much as we could, but sometimes it was unavoidable."

"It's a looong story…. I was found roaming the wilderness by my mentor, who brought me to er, an entity, called an interator. Do you know of iterators? Apparently they are what was left of an ancient civilization that once inhabited these lands. I couldn't wrap my head around it at first. Iterators are massive, absolutely huge, like mountains. Do you see that big structure of a regular, smooth shape?"

[She points towards Five Pebble's can in the distance]

"That is an iterator's «superstrucute». A mountain, the entire thing… is a person. It still sounds crazy when I say it."

"Ah, right, my name… like I mentioned, I got lost and my mentor found me. He brought me to his iterator. If my memory serves me right, his name is «No Significant Harassment», or NSH for short. I recall thinking at that time, «Harassment? I hope he won't be cruel to me». I had no concept of iterator names, their meaning, why it's three or however many words long. It was incredibly confusing to my young mind, though looking back at it I consider myself very lucky. The iterator was, dare I say, «god-like» (his own words), but benevolent. I saw how well he treated Hunter – my mentor – and it made me trust him more, even though I was scared and wary in the beginning."

"Would you believe it if I told you… there are stories written inside the pearls? That those things I’ve been obsessing about all my life are used for storing information? I had many of them leftover from when I lived at a scavenger outpost. One cycle, NSH noticed my interest, and – I wish Hunter had told me about this sooner, but – the iterator shot at my head with something…? And suddenly I could understand everything he said. Not that he said much, because I started crying loudly and ran straight out of there, haha. But before I bolted, he gave me one of his pearls as consolation. I think he felt bad for the scared little me."

"After that, he would eagerly read all the pearls I brought to him. That is how I learned more about the culture of the peoples who were here before me: the Ancients, their customs, why the iterators were built, and much more. It was like the knowledge of the entire world was suddenly revealed to me – to a seemingly insignificant being, a tiny speck in an endless ocean of life. It both made me feel very important, and very small. And, yeah, it has intensified my obsession with pearls beyond mortal limits. What if I could write into a pearl? I could archive the history of my entire species! All the stories my mom told me when I was small? All the places I’ve been to? Or other scugs have been to…"

[Her eyes widen, sparkling with glee]

"Y-yeah… that would be nice… sadly I am what I am – a slugcat. I don’t know how to do this very advanced stuff at all. I have no means of doing this. I once asked NHS for help, but there’s only so much he could guess from my frantic signing. I don’t think he understood me, in the end. But he did appreciate my efforts, and I was given a title – the Pioneer, like a person who is the very first to explore something uncharted. Apparently no slugcat before me thought of reading from or writing into pearls? I find it a little hard to believe."

"This one! This is a very special kind of pearl – it contains an ancient poem from which my name originated. See, my name was a gift from NSH the iterator. It’s spelled: «Mirmyntasseth». The best way I would describe it, is… it’s a name for a feeling, or an experience. The way it was explained to me, is that the word «Mirmyntasseth» is an expression of seeing a marble roll on a flat surface, then hitting another marble. Ah, right, you may not know this – a marble is like, like a pearl, but translucent and even more ornate. I was told that marbles were used by the Ancients for entertainment. They had a game where you rolled one to hit another. I'll admit, I can see the appeal. Throwing rocks is fun, although I image this game was considered a more dignified pastime."

[She tumbles the dark pearl in her hands, admiring its luster]

"The poem inside this pearl, one of its verses spells: «Eight Marbles Cast in Stone». The poem itself is long… very long… I had the iterator read it to me once, and we had to stop in the middle because the rain was coming. Maybe I will ask NSH to read it again, when I’m back at his superstructure with Hunter."

[Her gaze trails off to somewhere far away for a moment, a subtle grimace on her face. She closes her eyes and shakes off the thoughts that cloud her mind]

"So, um… yes… that is why I am called Eight Marbles Cast in Stone, or Marbles for short. I like how it sounds, it has a nice ring to it. And it’s a gift from an iterator, a god-like being. I consider it a great honor."

"…that said, I wonder why he didn’t just name me «Pearl»? Wouldn’t that make more sense? Maybe it didn’t sound cool enough. They’ve used pearls just to store information. I guess it’d be silly to be named «Dirt» because you doodle in dirt, or «Batfly» because you love eating batflies? Hmm…"

#rain world #rain world oc #rain world au #rw pioneer #rw no significant harassment #rw nsh #rw hunter #slugcat #slugpup #rw iterator #artificer's pups #ask blog #GATHER 'ROUND FOR A BEDTIME STORY #au lore #im going to crawl into a hole now and hibernate for a couple of days

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writingquestionsanswered · 2 days

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I've got young kids, work full time, went back to school to get my degree and my spouse is also in a degree program. Finding the time to write feels impossible. There's no way I can write daily.

I feel like maybe my dream to be an author is out of reach. When should you really ask yourself if you truly want to be an author? Forget an author.. do you really want to be a writer?

Author Dream Feels Out of Reach

You've come to the right place. ♥

First, I want to tell you that what you're feeling right now is totally normal. So, so many of us go through it. I promise you're in good company.

Second, I submit that this isn't really about whether or not you want to be a writer/author. You wouldn't be here if some part of you didn't want to be a writer/author... you wouldn't be reaching for a dream you didn't have...

Third, I further submit that rather than questioning your intentions, you may just need to consider what you want to get out of writing, what your goals would be as an author, and then create realistic goals to help you get there. That's where I come in...

1 - I'm here to tell you that you don't have to write every day. I spent a long, long, embarrassingly long time parroting back the traditional "advice" that one must write every single day in order to be a successful writer and reach your author dreams. Head, meet desk! In the intervening years, I've learned that writing every day simply isn't realistic for the vast majority of people. Why? Because we're not all independently wealthy bachelors who retired in our 40s, who spend our days fishing and our evenings partying with our eccentric creative friends, and then burning the midnight oil on our latest manuscript while we sip brandy and puff on a fine cigar. If only! (minus the cigar part... yuck...) Instead, we're members of family units, friend groups, and communities. We're parents and grandparents and guardians and caregivers. We're students, we have jobs and roles and responsibilities. We're anxious, tired, and stretched so unbelievably thin. The world is falling down around us. And it's... a lot...

2 - But... that's why we write... ALL OF THAT, I say, gesturing broadly at everything, is why we write. We write to tell the stories of the eccentric brandy-sipping writers, the stressed-out-stretched-thin-parents, the overworked-and-underpaid teachers, the exhausted caregivers who feel their dreams slipping between their fingers, and still hopeful dreamers who cling to the stars with the dust of the crumbling world in their eyes. We write to tell their stories, and we write to give them stories. We write because the world needs our stories. ALL of them. The good, the bad, the clean, the spicy, the angsty, the swoony, the cringey, the comforting, the excessively long, the absurdly short, the plainly written, the purple prosey... all of it matters. All of it serves a purpose.

3 - So, why did you start writing in the first place? You don't have to answer this for me, just for yourself... many of us would answer by saying things like, "because I have story ideas that demand to be written," or "because it's something I do for fun and escape, it's self-care," or "because I love to explore human stories." Getting to the heart of why you write, outside of any goals or future plans, can help ground you in the storm.

4 - What are your author goals? Now, if time, energy, and other considerations were no object... if you could spend as much time writing as you wanted and there were no obstacles to any author goal you had, and no limit to achieving your dreams, what would your author goals be? Do you want to share your stories on Wattpad or a similar platform? If so, do you have any goals related to views/reads/comments, and how often you hope to post a new story? If you want to pursue traditional publishing, are you happy being reasonably popular within your niche, or do you want to be a big time best-seller with your books made into movies? If you want to be an indie author, is there a certain number of books you want to get out each year? Is there a certain number of sales you want to hit for each book? A certain income level you want to aim for? Figuring out exactly what your goals are is important if you want to map a reasonable path toward getting there.

5 - What's a reasonable path to get there? Imagine "reasonable" lit up with lights here, because it's so, so important. Really, the biggest reason writers get overwhelmed and give up is because we have unreasonable expectations and are trying to meet arbitrary goals that sound great, but are just not possible to meet. If you can only muster maybe three hours to write on a good week, and you can write 26 words a minute on a good writing session, if your goal is to write 10,000 words per week, guess what... that's more than TWICE the number of words it's even possible for you to write in a good week, so you're going to fall far, far short most weeks. It's an unrealistic goal.

If you're averaging roughly 11,000 words per month and your goal is to write a novel in six months and have it revised, edited, and published (or revised, edited, and sent off with queries), guess what... your manuscript is sitting at 66,000 words at the six month mark without a single second for revision, editing, or anything else. Once again, it's an unrealistic goal.

One of the best ways to figure out a realistic goal is to take an honest look at your schedule. My favorite way to do this is by the month, using a calendar I can write on. Now, I'll go through and cross out all the days I know I won't be able to write... like, maybe I never write on Sundays because they're too busy, so I cross those off. Maybe I'm going on vacation for four days mid-month, and I know I won't write the day before or after, so I cross those six days off, too. My days tend to fall apart if I have an appointment or other unusual event, so I will usually block off those days as well. Finally, I know I will probably lose at least three days a month to not feeling well or having to attend to a family member who isn't feeling well, and another three days to run-of-the-mill nonsense, so I'll cross off the last six days in the calendar. What I'm left with is a reasonable estimate for the number of days I'll be able to write that month.

Now, let's say I'm left with 17 potential writing days. And let's say I'm fairly certain I'll be able to commit about twenty to thirty minutes to writing on each of those days. And... let's say I know I generally write about 26 words per minute during the average writing session. Twenty minutes across 17 days is 340 total minutes, times 26 wpm, nets me about 8,840 words for the month... and that's not frickin' bad! In fact, at that rate you could potentially have a first draft done in six to eight months! And that's in just twenty minutes a day three or four times a week.

It isn't about time spent, it's about setting reasonable goals.

If you create reasonable goals that you can actually meet, you start building forward momentum. You're not exhausted from fighting with your schedule and failing to squeeze writing in on days when it isn't possible. You're not beaten down from disappointing yourself over and over again. You're actually getting somewhere, and you're excited about it!

So, that's it. Before you get all philosophical about whether or not you really want to be an author or want to be a writer... before you start tossing your dreams out the window or feeling like your dreams are out of reach, try this. Be realistic. Be patient with yourself. Take support where you can get it. And don't be afraid to fiercely guard whatever writing time you do have.

I'm here for support, and there a million wonderful writing communities out there filled with other supportive writers if you have some time to look for them and spend some time getting to know them.

All the best! You've got this... TRULY! ♥

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

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my-darling-boy · 3 hours

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I've read your post about Sidney Beldam (what a man!) and it fascinated me enough to buy (quite impulsively) The Facemaker. Long story short, thanks to you and Lindsey Fitzharris I'm in my history-of-medicine-nerd-era and in gayly-interested-in-WWI-period; and The Facemaker might be one of my favourite books I've read this year. The stories of soldiers! The photographs! The work of Gillies! And reading that he performed the first known phalloplasty on a trans man was a very pleasant surprise, you know.

As an ask without an ask wouldn't be technically an ask, here I ask: Do you have any academic paper or book "with plot" recommendations? Either something similar to The Facemaker or just something about or set during the era?

Ahh I’m glad it’s been so inspiring! Ah hell yes Gillies was on that king shit doing the phalloplasty, really set the bar for transgender medical care of the 20th century!

I’ve got (a lot) more info than you’ve wanted if you don’t mind (I really can’t help myself), WWI and thereabouts is a great place to look if you’re getting into medicine history cos that’s when a lot of rapid change happened due to the war as well as the Edwardians’ newfound fight against germs and with the influenza pandemic towards the end of the Great War. My area at the moment for 1900-1920s medicine is plastic and reconstructive surgery, amputations, shellshock and PTSD, post-war rehabilitation, and the general RAMC. So I’ve got some recs for medicine and treatment for the body and mind around the war!

For academic books with a bit more narrative/soldier accounts as you asked:

Wounded by Emily Mayhew. I’ll admit I’ve not picked it up just yet but I do own it and it goes a lot off soldier’s stories

Forgotten Lunatics of the Great War by Peter Barham. Fantastic read about the stigma of “lunacy” and the psychological hardships men faced returning home including fighting for pensions due to lost limbs and shell shock.

Breakdown: the crisis of shellshock on the Somme, 1916 by Taylor Downing. While I don’t agree with this author’s personal views on the war, it does give soldier accounts looking at how the military alone viewed and responded to shell shock which can be helpful to understand in contrast to the civilian post-war response, especially since PTSD and shell shock are two different conditions and the former wasn’t widely understood almost until the 21st century.

Medicine in the First World War Europe: soldiers, medics, pacifists by Fiona Reid. Cannot remember the exact nature of this book cos I can’t remember if I own it but if I remember right it does have more of a personal accounts type telling.

Testament of Youth by Vera Brittain. Not 100% a medical read but a famous memoir written by feminist and pacifist Vera Brittain about her time before the war and during such as a VAD nurse

Two more clinical book reccs if you’re into the how and why of wounds and such:

Faces from the Front by Andrew Bamji. Very good look into the treatment of facial injuries with plastic surgery, it is at times a bit graphic as there are plenty of photos

War Surgery 1914-18 edited by Thomas Scotland and Steven Heys. Great look into injuries and their pathology, approachable read with clearly defined figures and not just massive walls of text along with an extensive bibliography. I recommend this as well for anyone writing WWI fiction because this tells you how wounds ACTUALLY happened and presented themselves

Purely fictional but with medical themes in nature (off the top of my head):

The Regeneration Trilogy by Pat Barker. Quite well known, but depicts the psychological effects of WWI on various characters. If you want queer themes, you’ll like this.

Johnny Got His Gun by Dalton Trumbo. American anti-war novel about a soldier who horrifically looses his arms, legs, face, hearing, and sight during the war and is confined to a secluded hospital bed at the mercy of doctors and nurses who don’t know what to do for him.

A Month in the Country by J. L. Carr. More queer themes! Tells the story about two WWI vets doing archeological work at a church in the English countryside and their lasting battle with shell shock.

I’ve also got a list of a handful of academic type sources slowly collected over the past months for various medical WWI things. These are only the ones I remembered to save, but I know there were certainly several more:

Website on the detailed RAMC evacuation

Pay to access source on prosthetic limbs in Britain via JSTOR

bibliography for First World War medicine as a kind of jumping off point for more academic papers and medical books

Academic paper reflecting on Britain’s response and treatment of shellshock

Good short article on the care of veterans for work and housing post-war

Continuously updating catalogue containing medical records that detail quite interesting stories like a bombardier receiving hypnotherapy to cure shell shock, hyperlink at the bottom to search database

REALLY good site on the RAMC duties at casualty clearing, advanced dressing, and regimental aid

WIP article on Gillies, Sidcup, and patients written by person whose friend was the granddaughter of Sidney Beldam

Academic article on facially disfigured men reclaiming agency and visibility

Short article on soldiers and disability struggles after the war

Masculinity, Stigma and Facial and Psychological Injuries of the First World War thesis paper

Erskine Hospital records that show the hospital, rehabilitation, and patients as well as limb making. Full collection is held at the University of Glasgow

Relationships between medical care and masculinity

Also off the top of my head, if you’re ever in Edinburgh for whatever reason, you might really enjoy the Surgeon’s Hall Museums as there are thousands of artefacts on display such as antique medical equipment, Victorian dentistry items, 17th century skeletons, and 20th century prosthetics. Literally it is floor to ceiling in the main gallery with jarred organs, body parts, bones, and even most remarkably the preserved upper half of the face, moustache and all, of a WWI soldier which is probably one of—if not the—most fascinating and haunting thing I’ve ever seen at a museum imo. It can be a bit of a shock to the system if you’ve never been to that sort of thing before so take care when going. I’ve been about three times and there’s still a couple items that make me go a bit light headed to look at!

Anyway I know it’s a lot but I hope something in there could be more of help to you! Cheers x

#me yapping as per usual #I hope all those links work too #medical tw #wwi medicine #wwi #asks

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scknight05 · 3 months

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WIP Wednesday 📝

I wasn't tagged by anyone since no one really knows me (yet.. hopefully.. maybe.. I dunno..lol) But I do wanna tag @tizniz, for being my biggest supporter with this journey, as well as @warpedpuppeteer because they both have been super awesome in letting me toss around my totally insane ideas with them and giving me input when I'm stumped.

This will probably be the first 9-1-1 fanfic I post, but it's not the first one I've started... And there are sooooo many more ideas to come soon hopefully. But this is what I'm currently working on and a few warnings before hand. 1-This is the first story I've written in a LONG time. So I'm rusty. EXTREMELY rusty! 2-I haven't done any major editing yet so I apologize for any errors. 3-I may be sharing too much with this compared to other people's "WIP Wednesday" posts so half of it will be behind a cut (if you make it that far and want to keep reading).

A little tidbit: what I'm posting is actually the scene that jumped into my head when this idea was born so I'm creating the story around it. And as of this moment, I do NOT have a title for this.. That's one thing I am also very horrible at... creating titles.

So I'm gonna shut up now and get on with it!

“Are you sure you’re gonna be okay, Buck?” Buck wrapped his arm around Chris’s shoulder and pulled him close. “Of course I am! As long as I have you, your dad and everyone else I love in my life I’m gonna be just fine.” Chris beamed with joy as he threw both of his arms around Buck’s chest to give him a tight hug. “I love you, Buck.” Buck could feel tears of joy and happiness welling up in his eyes as he smiled down at Christopher who was still clinging tightly to his chest. He leaned down and pressed a kiss against the curls on top of his head. “I love you too, buddy. Always will.” Buck sniffed and tried to discretely wipe his eyes before Chris could see. “Now how about I go check on dinner? Make sure your dad doesn’t burn everything to a crisp.” “Good idea.” Chris laughed. “But we could always order a pizza just to be safe!” With a laugh, Buck ruffled Chris’s hair, earning him a slight groan before he moved from where he was sitting on the boy’s bed. “We’ll keep that as Plan B, just in case. But I have faith in your dad.” With a smile on his face, he closed Christopher’s door and slowly made his way towards the living room. His smile quickly faded with the pain in his head still persistent but also beginning to throb uncomfortably against his skull, causing him to have to prop himself against the wall for a moment. He clenched his eyes closed in an effort to quell the pain and stop the room from spinning. “You good, Buck?” He hadn’t even heard Eddie approach and forced his eyes open to see he was standing in the middle of the living, wiping his hands on a dish towel.

“Y-yeah, its just this stupid headache. It won’t go away and now my head feels like it’s about to explode.” Buck attempted to take a few steps but in hindsight it was a bad idea. The room suddenly began to spin violently and the only reason he wasn’t on the floor was the fact that Eddie had all but ran to him and was now holding Buck by his shoulders to steady him in place. “Hey, hey. Easy, Buck!” Eddie’s eyes widened with worry while he watched as Buck took a few deep breaths in through his nose. “You still with me?” “Yeah. Yeah, sorry about that.” He replied shakily as he rubbed his eyes before placing his hand on Eddie’s forearm. “Thanks for catching me.” “Always.” Eddie smiled at Buck reassuringly, assessing him and making sure he wasn’t about to faceplant into the floor again before letting him go and making his way back towards the kitchen. “Dinner is basically ready, so lets get some food into you and see if that will help.” “Good idea. I’ll just go grab Christopher.” Eddie stopped and turned to look at Buck, confusion set across his face. “Who’s Christopher?” Eddie asked as his face scrunched up. “Very funny, Eddie.” Buck rolled his eyes and chuckled and turned back in the direction of the door he had closed behind him not too long ago. “Seriously Buck, who are you talking about?” “Christopher. You know, your son.” “Buck? I don’t have a son.” Eddie slowly began to walk towards Buck as he laughed. “Are you sure you’re okay?” “Okay, good one Eddie.” Buck just smiled as he reached the door and turned the knob. “Hey Chris, are you in on this too? Your dad is acting lik….” Buck’s voice trailed off as he looked into the room, a shiver shot down his spine and he felt like he had ice in his veins. He gazed around the space he was in not even five minutes earlier but instead of finding the preteen on his bed, the room was completely different. Where there once was a bed, posters adorning the wall, and other memorabilia indicating the presence of a preteen, in its place was now a large desk and stacked bookshelves; a home office it seemed. “What the hell?!” Buck’s voice was barely a whisper, his eyes widening in fear and confusion as he looked around the room. “Eddie, what is going on?! WHERE is Christopher?” “Buck, I keep telling you I have no clue who this Christopher you’re talking about is! A-and him being my son? I’ve never had a son!”

#me #personal #writing #911 #911 fanfic #buddie fanfic #evan buck buckley #eddie diaz #my writing #the first story i've written in a long time #I'm sorry to everyone who may read this #I also debated posting this now since the EW stuff just dropped

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immunetoneurotoxin · 2 months

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ENTANGLEMENT | Part I, Chapter I

A Portal/Half Life Universe Fic from Chell's Perspective Rating: Explicit Overall Word Count: 10,730 Chapters: 1/20 Where to Read: AO3 | Google Drive | // ?UN?/KN@?#WN

SYNOPSIS

Location Unknown, Michigan, USA. Aperture released her, set her free. That ought to have been the end of it. But cast out into a world rendered unrecognizable after a mass extinction level event, Chell is forced to fend for herself, navigating a war-torn world in the aftermath of the seven hour war that devastated the states in a bygone era. Mere days into her newfound experience on the surface, Chell finds bizarre technology inside a Michigan radio tower, discovering that the same interdimensional forces that started the war were still around, scouring the area in search of technology from the facility she hoped to never see again — Aperture Science. With no choice but to go back to the facility to deliver a dire warning, Chell tightropes on the cusp of two worlds, unaware of the consequences of pursuing the past and surviving an uncertain future alongside an unlikely ally.

It's finally here!! A former roleplay thread with @sarcasticgaypotato turned novel, this story follows the events of Half Life 2: Episode 2, and is an inspired continuation of the ending of Half Life: Alyx from the perspective of everyone's favorite Aperture-dwelling characters. Chell, whose mission is to protect Aperture technology from getting in the hands of the Combine, must also act as GLaDOS's protector and keep her safe. GLaDOS, on the other hand, has to figure out the complicated ways of the world from a new perspective - literally. This story is friendly to those who don't know Half-Life lore, and a treat for those who do! This story is a close-to-canon survival novel fic with ChellDOS as a major focus. Full of survival, interactive elements, complicated feelings, and a beautiful slow burn robot/human love story. <3

#portal 2 #half life #chell #GLaDOS #ChellDOS #I CAN FINALLY SCREAM ABOUT THIS OMMMGG #nearly a fucking DECADE LATER AHHHH #words cannot explain how excited I am to finally release this project into the masses I could explode #Chell was my first muse my first comfort character my first love #this rp to novel that me and sarcastic worked on for ages is without a doubt the most research I have done for a story EVER in my life #and I love the absolute most out of everything I've written #I have been wanting to write ChellDOS fanfiction for a very long time #and while I've done rp stuff #I wanted my first ChellDOS fic to be so fucking astronomical #I'm finally satisfied #and I hope you all love this story too! thank you all for reading <3

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magentagalaxies · 2 months

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after using some of my instrumental tracks from other girls in my video essay i couldn't get over how much some of them still slapped even without the vocals so i decided to post this one. i still want to record full versions of the other girls songs eventually with vocals and everything but for now i'm good with just vibing to these demos

#light my way is one of the best songs i've written but the lyrics/context in the show is so devastating #it's so different from my usual tone #literally just reminds me of the first time i watched the kith ''the long note'' sketch and i was like #ok so this is literally me writing a two hour musical no one will see. ''cut it to 50 and i'll read it''#''no but then i'd have to leave out high school'' ''well high school is half the book'' ''it's not a book kevin it's a cry for help!!!''#and then literally a year later the full show was on youtube and people were watching and rewatching it #and i even got to tell bruce how relatable that sketch was with this show #success story of the century right here

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yellowloid · 6 months

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FINALLY managed to make some progress on my wip thank GOD and all the saints in heaven for this christmas miracle

#it's kind of a funny story btw. life has been so hectic since the end of october i haven't really had time to write as such #only editing stuff that was already written and ready (the first two chapters of my fic that i posted)#but over the past few days i've gone back to reread the next parts and i've made some interesting discoveries #one of them being that i miscalculated and i don't in fact just have the 3rd chapter ready. i also have the 4th lmao #so that was a nice surprise #anyway. the other day after rereading the whole thing and making a couple of edits here and there i closed the doc and called it a day #that's what we call progress 🥰🥰🥰#(was procrastinating as a result of being irrationally afraid of writing again after two months)#but yeah long story short. i FINALLY got back to actually writing tonight #made some actual progress on the 5th chapter and i'm so proud of myself for that you have no idea lmao #we're SO back baby #writing stuff

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jessamine-rose · 7 months

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/obey me! vent/

#jessamine rambles #before i start. pls keep in mind that this is fully subjective and could just be a 'me' problem. i just want to get this off my chest #ngl i've been contemplating on whether i want to stop playing obey me. both the og game and nightbringer #idk i've been playing the game since its first month and while it's given me a lot of joy + memories + chances to befriend other ppl. i'm #pretty burned out. not to mention TIRED of my consistent disappointment with the game #the main story.....where do i start?? i actually enjoyed s1-s3 despite my qualms with the fillers and pacing but s4 disappointed me. i was #rlly looking forward to simeon's storyline and the new characters but ultimately. the devs tried to squeeze too many things into one season #not to mention that there is a notable difference in how the characters are written. i.e. beel's hunger and asmo's beauty #being watered down to running gags instead of the complexities explored in the old dg stories and chara songs #gameplay-wise. i was there when the devs raised the rewards price of the event urs and removed the demon ssrs completely #but nightbringer was the last straw for me. the amount of time it takes to grind for two games. knowing that the og app has essentially bee #abandoned by the devs?? not to mention that while the plot is interesting. i haven't touched the main story ever since the coma arc #i will give credit to the devs for improving the event stories by choosing to focus on 1-2 demons. but it has always felt like a quantity >#quality situation. esp if i were to compare it to my other fandoms #it also doesn't help that i'm currently at a point of my life where i'm questioning if i could use my time on obm for better things #seeing how the game is giving me less reasons to believe it is worth my time #idk this may also be a short-term phase since i DID get back into twst after a long hiatus and i recently got into whb #which btw has felt like a breath of fresh air despite my frustrations with the bugs and current gacha #but yeahhhh........as much as i love the obm characters and fanfics. i'm just tired #at this point i feel like the only reason why i still play the game is due to the nostalgia and so i don't waste the years of grinding #aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh #this is what i get for being the type of player who only plays a few games so they can rlly dedicate their time and passion to it #that's all

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tenpixelsusie · 1 year

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"Rick is the better scientist!" "actually, Reagan is the better scientist because-!!" shut up shut up shut up we all know the best fictional scientist is ALPHYS from UNDERTALE

#jeremy hater moment #hate hate HATE looking up reagan on anything and seeing her compared to rick like leave my girl alone !!!#STOP BASHING HER!!!#istg anytime i see rick and reagan in the same post i'll think ''god help me''. this is making me hate r&m fans so bad #where was i. oh yeah #in comparison to both of these characters i personally think alphys comes out on top both in a better written and better story arc stance #like don't get me wrong!! i love reagan!! but alphys will always be first in my heart #alphys is an amazing example of the ''good person who's done bad things and has to live with themselves'' character archetype-#what with the amalgamates and locking them away and hiring mettaton to stage stuff for the human just so alphys could be apart of it all-#and her arc about forgiving herself and finally giving the families closure and bringing their relatives back home and confessing-#what she had done and just. overall- everything about her story and her time interacting with frisk and undyne and everyone-#it's amazing how toby fox created this- this AMAZING little dino gal and wrote her with so much love and. just. AH!!!#alphys is. an amazing character. and i wouldn't have had her story go any other way.#(also if any of the details here are inaccurate please be nice 😭 i haven't replayed undertale in fuck knows how long)#like i said i think she comes out on top for any fictional (mad?) scientist in any media tbh. she's so sillay ♡#(sorry to reagan. even if i love her character and overall just. her in general i'm giving alphys this one. she's the og 💥‼)#one last thing: outside of everything i've mentioned alphys is just SUCH a charming character overall !#alphys appreciation club 4eva *peace sign*#(also i think reagan and alphys should meet and become friends right... neow!!)#(should i tag rick and reagan??? i'll tag em for organizational purposes)#reagan ridley #rick sanchez #tw rick and morty #<- for blacklist #inside job netflix #im not tagging r&m LOL #alphys undertale #undertale #dr alphys #this is ok to reblog by the way

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atreldes · 1 year

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“Forget a footnote or a chapter— I want the whole fucking history book!”

A moodboard for my @infamous-if mc Rorie Rose, she/her, lead singer of electronic/synth rock band rising//sinking.

#i need to make a playlist but the bands vibes are very much in line with infected mushroom's cover of black velvet #no but genuinely infamous is the funnest if demo i've read in a long time & i'm super excited for more #think i'm gonna go for seven's route first ft not realizing you're in love until it's too late #or maybe g... or august... idk yet actually i love every single ro so far *sobs*#misc facts abt rorie: Knows she's one of the best singers around you can't tell her otherwise.#says shit like 'oh come on i was /born/ to be a rock star it's basically written on my birth certificate'#but is actually really nice & polite lmao she's just very self assured #def told seven they'd be bigger than the beatles & was only half kidding #the r & s in the band name is the name is absolutely a reference to rorie & seven & she voted to keep it a duet #always ends up taking her shoes off on stage b/c she always wears heels & regrets it afterward b/c she's a jump all over the stage singer #loves to be a pest to orion but really respects him & his opinion deep down #low-key a flirt but doesn't really realize it + is very physically affectionate. Will sit on nearly anybody's lap if no chair is available #(she doesn't sit in chairs properly anyway lol. always wants to be on the counter or something)#(*kitty foreman voice* she likes to feel tall)#toes the fashion line between bohemian & whimsigoth- if it's got a skirt & looks like something a 70s era groupie would have worn? she's in #has multiple ear piercings mirrored nostrils a septum & a vertical labret. silver girlie.#idk just random little bits! slowly fleshing her out & obvi more will come as the story progresses ^^#if: infamous

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librathefangirl · 1 year

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Seven Sentence Sunday: Febuwhump Edition #1

Okay, so originally I wanted to make a sneak peek for the first seven days, but I'm way behind my preferred schedule. So instead, have a sneak peek from Day 1: Touch Starved.

For context, all Febuwhump days will be filled for The Seven Deadly Sins / Nanatsu no Taizai and be Meliodas-centric. This one currently have 4,5k+ words and is still not done yet. Working summary: 6 times someone held Meliodas when he felt like he’d break / aka sad boy gets surprised hugged. Each of the Sins will have their own part/mini-story.

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Gowther: Yeah, no. Meliodas definitely wasn’t prepared to answer this.

Merlin: Perhaps that was why Merlin had not seen the break coming.

Escanor: That… was not what Meliodas had expected.

Diane: The sudden change in her tone did nothing to aid his confusion.

Ban: He faked it well – Meliodas had always been good at faking it – but Ban didn’t buy it anymore.

King: King blocked his way, his question more of a formality.

#so yeah my mind went for the let's make this as confusing as possible option #still super excited to share this one on the 1st!!#first time in forever i've written a story this long #and i still got like half of ban's and most of king's part left to complete #febuwhump2023 #seven sentence sunday #libra writes #nanatsu no taizai #nnt #seven deadly sins #sds #meliodas nnt #meliodas whump #my wips #meliodas wip #nnt wip #libra's febuwhump 2023

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viijaya · 2 years

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#;ooc #ooc #OOF #this is (if im correct) b.idek d.ebroy's edition of m.ahabharata #there are shorter versions too;; i find it quite difficult to find one that would match what im searching for rn #like an example; i heard this one has included many details #then there's the one retold by r.ajagopalachari that is said to be more condensed and written in simple english #and many many more others #a good starting point to pick one falls down onto the reader i assume; like if u have extense prior knowledge of the story; or #or know some bits here and there; or if its ur first time getting in contact with an extensive text #etc etc #personally i would consider that what i know is pretty limited and the things i know is information i've been gathering #from reading docs/watching videos/ etc etc #ONE DAY!! -clenches hands on fists- at least a condensed version; i would like to read it!#there's also a movie on y.out.ube its around 5 hours long #i started watching that one some time ago #do u ever think about how in c.haldea's library they prob would have a copy of many books that are related to servants or biographies?#like;; if the master wanted to know more about their servants they could go and read about them right away #even with the servants based on people like n.ero; u could just go and read the biography #I DUNNO LIKE;; wish this was talked more; i find it fascinating and sometimes its just so common on f.go to see servants all around #i would FREEZE on the spot if some guy told me he is lit r.obin h.ood!!;; imagine how much u could ask them all!!#their views; their experiences!!

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myname-isnia · 4 months

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*wakes up*

*grabs phone*

*email notification*

*new comment on SotRL*

*throws phone to the far side of adjacent couch*

*goes back to sleep*

#NOT TODAY THANK YOU #not ever. preferably #I was not emotionally prepared for this #look... I think I might be the direct opposite of literally every writer on the planet #because seeing that email made me feel sick to my stomach #this has singlehandedly sent my entire day off kilter #I'm supposed to go to my grandma's today but now all I want to do is rot in bed for the rest of the day #literally anyone else would have been happy to receive a several sentences long comment praising them #but my initial reactions were 'how the fuck did you find this?' 'why the fuck would you read it?' and 'I should've deleted when I wanted to'#I've heard countless stories about sudden comments received years after the last update kicking authors into continuing the story #usually in PSAs to always comment or whatever #but I just feel awful #not because I feel guilty over not finishing SotRL or anything like that #just.. because this is exactly the reason why I wanted to delete that fic #people reading anything I've written makes me want to die but SotRL especially #it's old. the writing is bad. there's a reason I call it my greatest failure #I don't want people to read it. that's why I wanted it gone #and the comment was so nice too. much more than just a call for an update #I hate that it caused this reaction in me because it's clear the person only had the best intentions in mind #but I can't control my emotions. far from the first time I wish that I could #someone put me in the guiness world record book as the first person to ever get genuinely upset over a nice comment #I laugh shit like this off as the mortifying ordeal of being known or whatever but in reality it's so much worse #if I didn't have anything to stop me my entire ao3 account would be gone. I hate the thought of people reading my work #just further proof that I'm not a writer. that I spent six years deluding myself into believing that I was #trying to shove square pieces into triangular holes like a dumb toddler #I should have quit before any of this happened. erased everything and forgotten about it like a bad dream #I should have never started writing in the first place #if I had the chance to go back in time and tell one thing to my 11 year old self it would be to not even think about writing #it has brought me nothing but pain and suffering and I really should have stayed away from it #too late now. I've been irreversibly ruined

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demilypyro · 7 months

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So I've seen a few too many people on twitter talking about The Kiss Scene from the new Scott Pilgrim anime. People saying it's fetishistic and indulgent, people calling it male gazey, etc. And while the kiss itself is certainly a bit exaggerated, I felt like writing a bit about why I disagree, and why context is important, like it always is. But it basically turned into an extended analysis on the metatextual treatment of Roxie Richter. So bear with me. It's a long post.

What really matters about this scene is not the kiss itself, but what precedes it. Not even just the fight scene just before it, but what precedes the whole anime series, really. And that's the Scott Pilgrim comic book, and the live action movie. Because in both, Roxie is a punchline.

She's a joke. Her character starts and ends with "one of the exes is actually a girl, I bet you didn't expect that." Jokes are made about Ramona's latent bisexuality, the movie especially treating it as funny and absurd, and her validity as a romantic interest is entirely written off by Ramona as being "just a phase." There's a fight scene, she's defeated by a man giving her an orgasm which implicitly calls her sexuality into question (come on), and the movie just moves on. It sucks. It really, really sucks.

The comic fares a little better. It never veers into outright homophobia like the movie does, and while the line about Ramona having gone through a phase remains, Roxie actually gets one over on Scott when Ramona briefly gets back with Roxie. But Roxie is still only barely a character. Like all the other evil exes, she's just a stepping stone towards the male protagonist's development. She barely even gets any screentime before she's defeated by Scott's "power of love." But Roxie stands out, since she's the only villain who is queer, or at least had been confirmed queer at that point (hi Todd). In a series that champions multiple gay men in the supporting cast, the single undeniable lesbian in the story is a villain. She's labeled as evil, made fun of, pushed aside in favor of the men, and then discarded. Her screentime was never about her, or her feelings for Ramona. It was about the straight, male protagonist needing to overcome her. And that was Roxie Richter. An unfortunate victim of the 2010s.

Fast forward to current year, and the new anime series is announced. Everybody sits down to watch the new series expecting another retelling of the same story, and.... hang on, that straight male protagonist I mentioned just died in the first episode. And now it's humanizing the villains from the original story. And there's Roxie, introduced alongside the other evil exes in the second episode, and she's being played entirely straight, without a punchline in sight. No jokes are made about her gender, no questions are made of her validity as one of Ramona's romantic interests. The narrative considers her important. In one episode, she already gets more respect than she did in either of the previous iterations of Scott Pilgrim. And this isn't even her focus episode yet... which happens to be the very next one.

The anime series goes to great lengths to flesh out the original story's villains and to have Ramona reconcile with them. And I don't think it's a coincidence that Roxie gets to go first. While Matthew Patel gets his development in episode 2, Roxie is the first to directly confront Ramona, now our main protagonist. This is notable too because it's the only time the exes are encountered out of order. Roxie is supposed to be number 4, but she's first in line, and later on you realize that she's the only one who's out of sequence. She's the one who sets the precedent for the villains being redeemed. She's the most important character for Ramona to reconcile with.

What follows is probably the most extensive, elaborate 1 on 1 fight scene in the whole show. Roxie fights like a wounded animal, her motions are desperate and pained. Ramona can only barely fight back against her onslaught. Different set-pieces fly by at breakneck speed as Roxie relentlessly lays her feelings at Ramona's feet through her attacks and her distraught shouts. And unlike the comic or the movie, Ramona acknowledges them, and sincerely apologizes. And the two end up just laying there, exhausted, reminiscing about when they were together.

Only after this, after all of this, does the kiss scene happen. Roxie has been vindicated, she has reconciled with the person who hurt her, the narrative has deemed that her anger is justified and has redeemed her character. And she gets her victory lap by making the nearest other hot girl question her heterosexuality, sharing a sloppy kiss with her as the music triumphantly crescendos.

It's... a little self-congratulatory, honestly. But it's good. It's redemption for a character who had been mistreated for over a decade. And she punctuates the moment by being very, very gay where everyone can see it, no men anywhere in sight. Because this is her moment. And then she leaves the plot, on her own accord this time, while humming the hampster dance. What a legend. How could anything be wrong with this.

#scott pilgrim #spto #scott pilgrim takes off #roxie richter #roxanne richter #scott pilgrim spoilers #spto spoilers

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