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#experts from a book i'll never write
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I’m always changing and wanting to be somewhere new. Learn something new. Be someone new. My emotions change quickly. My likes change quickly. I feel things deeply, but not for long periods of time. I’m passionate and sometimes impulsive. I can’t imagine just one person making me happy forever because I can’t imagine myself being the same person forever. I can’t expect someone to love me forever when I don’t know how different I’ll be a year from now, I just know I’ll be different. Every year I’m evolving, becoming more “me”, and that always looks different. I look back at the people I used to be and sometimes it feels like hundreds of years have gone by in between.
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inmackkscar · 2 years
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I hate begging for attention, I’ve had to do it my whole life and it’s so draining. I just want to be enough. Why am I never enough?
~In Mack’s Car
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bunniposts · 1 year
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i didn’t know what comfort meant until i met you
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lucisheart · 11 months
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Siempre la segunda opción
Nunca la primera
Siempre se van
Y nunca se quedan
Pero lo veo
I see the way you laugh together
The way los secretos pasan por demedio
Las miradas from across the room
Lo veo
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bones-trash · 2 years
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im in love again, better love, and im gaining things back. and it feels so beautiful. neural pathways hidden in my brain awakening to life again. the sensitivity. the sentiment. no need to show fangs and gnaw at everything and everyone all the time now. is it spring? is it this chapter coming to an end? is it love? whatever it is, for the feeling between my tamples, i'm greatful. i not only want to survive now. not only out of spite. i want to live.
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messybrokenlover · 1 year
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Sometimes it feels as if you helped me slit my wrists and you stood there telling me you love me, you value me, you respect me expecting that to heal the wounds. Just screaming out meaningless words, sweet nothings, stringing empty sentences together as if they would turn into sutures. You stood there watching the blood seep out from my veins, avoiding the reality of the puddle I began drowning in. I never thought that this much blood, hurt, and self-demeaning actions could exist inside one person. One small fragile being. Everything was red, but you stood there denying our reality ignoring the exposed artery. Finding every reason why you could not stop the bleeding, why you couldn't apply pressure, you could only cover the wound, as if sweeping a mess you didn't want to clean under the rug. I've bled out and I am left apologizing for your suffering, apologizing for the trauma I must've caused you, the consequences I forced on you.
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yellow
Sunny skies burned ever so sweetly through veils of sugary woes
The petals of rays  long rotten and your tall stem’s broken hunch had brought the sun so close
I had mistook the frying sensation for yet a warm embrace
Yellow always bore an avoidant glance but the bitterness of your honey had been all but a complimentary sweetness  to my follyness 
I remember when fire once whispered foggy sentiment, its beautiful  sun kissed flickers was a sight i’d never forget
I wonder if all the buzzing i’d hear as I picked through  wax comb for the deepest parts was worth all the stings and lives lost
If yellow is to forever be warmth and joy, then I suppose yellow is a duplicitous form of passion
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villiansamurai · 1 year
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He looked at me.
He looked at me, and now I'm confused all over again.
I'm falling back into the cycle of daydreaming and imagining what could be because I'm not content with what is.
I WAS CONTENT!
I WAS FINALLY CONTENT!
And now, I have to start again before I fall apart like the last time.
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submalevolentgrace · 1 year
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Hi! I'm very interested in attempting to write a disabled character (not for this blog, I assure, for an book I'm writing) in which the story doesn't fetishize/objectify her prosthetic limb. I'm in many writing circles and have been for a long while, but I've never seen this issue brought to light which I realise is a very important one. I have much to change in my thought process, and thank you for bringing this issue to attention.
I'm curious, and I apologise if this has been asked before, but what sort of design could you see for a functional prosthetic that doesn't go for a plainly aesthetic appearance, or is soully to please others? I do note that you said prosthetics are generally... not that helpful. So is there a way that it could be? Or do you think it would always generally be better to not use a prosthetic, as its mostly for aesthetic purposes, as you said?
I apologise if this ask is too outright or anything, and I don't mean to intrude. Thank you for your time and have a beautiful day!
okay, i want to answer this as in depth as possible, because whenever i talk about having a prosthesis, someone will always tag some variation of "#writing reference" and i do wonder what message they're taking away, and i want to get as much of my experience out as possible to maybe help shape how this is all portrayed in the future. and yeah… this is gonna be one of those rambly smg posts that the expand feature was invented for, so i'll start with the very abridged TL;DR:
if you're writing a character with an upper limb prosthesis; don't. arm amputees are unicorn level rare even compared to leg amputees, and i've never interacted with or even heard of an upper limb amputee that regularly uses a prosthesis, let alone relies on one. fiction has lied to you for the sake of cool aesthetics, don't repeat the cycle. more in depth writing advice including nuance and "but i waaaant to" will follow.
that said, grab your donning parachute and let's get started...
context for everyone involved: i am an upper limb amputee that rants a lot about how prostheses suck, i lost my right hand roughly five years ago at roughly the age of 30 after a very rough decline in health… it was pretty rough. this question is being asked in the context of a previous rant post of mine, and i checked that the ask is about an upper limb prosthesis in particular.
the situation regarding the usefulness of lower limb prostheses is totally different; i am definitely no expert, but by all accounts, prosthetic legs are incredibly useful for many people. getting a good leg can be absolutely life changing and more or less necessary for day to day life for some; mostly because infrastructure and society is just so fucking hostile to wheelchair users. being able to walk - at the cost of pressure sores and rashes and increased residual limb pain - is a preferable option to many people than being unable to fit through a doorway or in a bathroom stall or find out that the key to unlock the only elevator is in the admin office up three flights of stairs (true story).
but upper limb prostheses… see, the thing is, hands are incredibly complex organs that rely on a lot of immediate haptic feedback to work at all. hand dexterity is all about control, you need fine granular movements of the digits yes, but you also need the subtle sensations of pressure and proprioception in order to adjust your movements on the fly. i speak from experience, in the years leading up to the full loss of my hand, i was slowly losing function of it, usually swinging between numbness that made it clumsy at best, or screaming overstimulation from moving it at all resulting in unpredictable spasms… and let me tell you, a half working hand is infuriating to try and deal with. you can never know if you have a good grip on something or if it's slipping because of the wrong amount of pressure, and there's only so many smashed bottles of pickles on the floor before you give up using it all together… so amputation wasn't a great loss there, i had time to adapt.
a prosthetic hand of any kind has all of those issues and more. they're heavy and bulky, the cosmetic faux fingers or gripping claw have crude movement at best, and there's zero feedback (put a pin in this). 100% of the time you're using a prosthetic hand you have to keep your eyes on the grip and visually guesstimate whether or not the thing you're carrying is held tight enough but not too tight, that is if your "heavy duty" prosthesis can even support the weight without the servos disengaging or the wrist attachment socket just busting loose. i dropped a whippersnipper on my foot last week when my socket couldn't take the weight and i think that was the final straw in me desperately trying to prove to myself that there is a single task my prosthesis actually helps with.
this is usually where fully two handed people start talking about bleeding edge DARPA tech, and how we just need to invest more,research more, develop more. better tech, more tech, neural integration, more more more. okay i promise the writing advice is coming! for starters on tech, my experience is already with a mid-to-high end ottobock terminal device: i've got a myoelectric nerve-signal operated proportional control heavy duty greifer; about the only upgrade left for me to get would be a rotating wrist joint if i could coflex. it's not military, it's not "rockclimber that owns a prosthetic company", but it's quality tech. it still fucking sucks. secondly, that high level military tech exists primary for PR purposes so they can say they treat their discarded casualties well, "we can rebuild him, we have the technology" style. every war vet i've read about or heard from that's been gifted that high level tech also abandons it for the same reasons; it's imprecise, there's no feedback (or the haptic interface has to be fully recalibrated every time they put it on), but mostly they're more capable without one.
okay, the transhumanist ableds say (i should know, i used to be one), what if we did more ~research and development~ and got that neural feedback working? then we could have fireproof superhumanly strong robot arms to fix up everyone! here's where i take out that pin we put up before and i tell you that a class of prosthetic arms/hands already exists that has perfect proportional control, fine motor control, and physics perfect pressure feedback piped directly into the patients' existing sensory systems! they're called body-powered prostheses, and they were invented in like the 1600s. you strap a whole bunch of stuff to your arm and shoulders shoulders, and control the operation of the terminal device and elbow through cable tension by flexing your shoulders. they do take a considerable amount of training to operate - though hell i spent 18 months training to use my myo - but based on everything i've read, body-powered prostheses are the best option if you're an upper limb amputee and absolutely need a second hand for some reason.
but they don't look cool and futuristic, and according to my prosthetist, most people give up on using them too. we all give up on our prostheses, no matter the type. my rehab OT was impressed i lasted the 18 months of my training. towards the end, they even asked if the clinic director could drop in to one of my sessions to see my progress; he expressed genuine amazement at me casually using my bulky robot claw to use a brush and dustpan, and made an offhanded (hah) comment about what someone can achieve "if they stick it out to the end", implying it was somewhat of a rarity for me to have done so. several years on, and yesterday i wedged the dustpan between my ankles to sweep up into it, awkward but exponentially less effort than putting my dusty robot arm on. which, by the way, is a whole thing. look up some videos, they're all awful to don. i don't actually know the official technical name of what my clinic calls a "parachute" but it's a bitch to use! have you ever tried to pull back with your arm whilst also pushing it forwards at the same time, and simultaneously lean in to and away from an external force pulling on you? that's how you get a myo socket on.
bare with me, i promise writing advice is coming, and i promise it's more than the tl;dr. but. remember when i said a half working hand is infuriating to deal with? any prosthesis, from fancy myo tech to pirate-era body powered, will only ever be half as good as a working hand, and being juuuust within capability to do something but not quite able to is maddening! but you know what works way better than a half working hand? no hand at all. using whatever residual/vestigial limb you have - whatever "stump" you have, i hate that word - is pretty much always better than trying to use a prosthesis. i can use the inside of my elbow to grip and carry things, i can use the nub of my arm to apply pressure to hold things, open doors, use a computer mouse, turn on taps and lights, if i put a glove over it i can use it to prep for cooking. i have full proprioception and pressure feedback with skin contact, i don't think i've ever dropped and broken anything from my elbow, unlike countless things slipped from my greifer - which, by the way, absolutely will start clenching as tight as it can if i get even slightly too sweaty around the electrodes, which has both broken things i'm holding and also injured me, because surprise surprise but servo operated robot claws have pinch points on them right near the "emergency disengage" lever for some reason!
but i am exponentially more capable without it on than with it. no, i'm not fully independent, i rely on housemates and loved ones to help me out with some tasks that simply just need two handed dexterity, but none of those tasks are things a prosthesis makes me able to do anyway. i used to imagine my prosthesis would be like a bra; a bit awkward and uncomfortable, but i'd wear it throughout the day because it's helpful and take it off in the evening to decompress. in reality it's actually exactly like a bra: an absolute bitch to put on one handed, unbearably uncomfortable because it never sits right, ugly af unless you're a millionaire, and absolutely useless except for the fact that i get gawked at and judged by strangers if i leave the house without it on.
and if you really want to discover how far "no hand is better than a half working hand" goes, brace yourself, and look up the patient's stories (not medical system stories) of people that have had hand transplants. the first man to receive one hated it, he was promised a return to normal function, and what he got was a nightmare worse than being one handed; he wanted it removed again but the doctors refused because it would undermine their grand achievement of the first hand transplant. the doctors and society wanted him to be fixed, they wanted him to be normal, they wanted him to be abled. they failed. they made him less able to do things, denied his autonomy, and left him with someone else's hand slowly rotting on him, prioritising the idea of "scientific progress" and "two hands good" over the physical health, mental health, and ability to function of this man.
he's not alone; every story from the patients' perspective about hand transplants that i've read goes this way, including a woman who was born quad limb different and was promised hands would improve her life, pressured into a double hand transplant, only to find herself after the surgery essentially experiencing disability for the first time ever, because she had lived her whole life getting by just fine with her 'underdeveloped' limbs, but half working hands are worse than useless. you can try to find these stories yourself, but i'm not going looking for sources on any of these cases, because if you look back through enough of my posts you'll get a glimpse of the horrors and abuses that i too was put through by doctors who prioritised trying to "fix" me at any cost, rather than providing me the best quality of life, and in turn traumatised me and left me more broken than any loss of limb on its own could. dear goddess, i promise the writing advice is coming.
so. why do upper limb prostheses exist at all? if they're so terrible and useless, what is their function? i want to borrow something someone else left in the tags of a previous rant here, from someone who i believe works in prosthetics and/or rehab, cleaned up and anonymised at their request:
"upper limb functions are wildly more complex than: 1) bear weight static, and 2) bear weight moving. but every single upper limb amputee i know has a fancy expensive prosthetic just gathering dust in the closet because there is literally nothing it can do like a few years of adjustment and if needed non-dominant hand retraining can't do. the existence of forquarter prosthetics to begin with is just kind of silly and useless and entirely to make OTHER people feel comfortable, especially considering they universally are UNcomfortable for the amputee. i hate the notion that as soon as you get the amputation the prosthetic is The Thing That Will Fix You And Make You Feel Normal again because it universally isn't! but every forequarter person i know had like this ideal of Being Fixed By Magic Prosthetic that they were then obviously wildly disappointed by and had to do yet another grieving process with, versus if the dominant narrative were just one of: yeah. it'll take time, there is no magic fix."
and i think that really nails down what the actual purpose of upper limb prostheses is: they're not for the user, they're for the sake of other people. and not just their comfort when looking at our bodies, although based on the pressure for both amputees and people born limb different to get functionless cosmetic plastic hands, there is a lot of that. but it's not just that.
i fully believe that the reason prosthetic hands exists is to comfort the fears of the two handed. "don't worry", they say, "we can fix you again. you don't have to fear becoming Disabled, you don't have to worry about adapting or your life changing. we can make you Normal™ again."
you would not believe the number of people that have approached me to shower me with pity, to tell me how horrific my life is, how they can't imagine it. people have told me, apropos of nothing, that they'd kill themselves if they lost a hand. indirectly, that my life isn't worth living. unless, of course, i happen to be wearing my cool as fuck looking robot prosthesis! then they tell me how wonderful it is, how lucky i am, how glad they are that we have the technology to fix me. that's what a prosthetic hand says, what all the happy fishing photos on limbs4life posters at the rehab clinic say: don't worry, we can fix you. that's what the bleeding edge DARPA flexi-whatever fully articulated neuro-feedback hands say: don't worry if you get IED'd while hunting civilians for us to drone bomb, if you get hurt, we will fix you, we will fix the fuck out of you, we will motherfucking adam jensen you into a cool as fuck cyborg that your son will idolise; come on boys, don't you wanna enlist just for the chance at being as cool as this? join the bomb squad for a ticket to the upgrade lottery.
and so we arrive at fiction. as much as his dialogue options protest, adam jensen loves his robot arms, they punch through walls, turn into fucking swords! they make him the most special man in the world. what would he do without them? learn to cope? grieve? practice acceptance? take up poetry? just, be disabled? there's no power fantasy for ableds in that.
in fact, can you think of a single fictional character that's an upper limb amputee that's, well, just an amputee? they all have robot arms. not realistic prostheses, not medical devices; robot arms. sleek or bulky, top of the line or broken down self built, steampunk or nanomachines or magitech automail; they're never without them. never just an amputee. never born limb different either! there's always that element of tragedy to overcome, always suffering and misery porn, always focus on the pain and the helplessness without the absolutely vital robot arm that makes them Normal and Whole. the closest amputee example i can think of is furiosa from mad max, who iirc fucking punches max in the face with her residual limb like a motherfucking badass! i can barely lean on mine wrong and she punches a guy! but she still apparently needs a dieselpunk robot hand to drive a truck, something you can do one handed so easily most drivers don't even notice they're doing it! please don't, by the way
and so many disabled fans love to point to robot armed characters as disability representation; the winter soldier, luke skywalker, edward elric, misty knight, that genderswapped furry girl from ratchet and clank, jet cowboybebop, finn the human, and yes, adam jensen…. these are all characters that someone disabled i know has told me they love because they "represent disabled bodies"…. and i know nobody wants to hear this, because i've been screamed at for saying it before, but… they do not. they are not disabled, functionally or within fiction. they are either perfectly able bodied Normal people with chrome paint on an arm, or tortured misery porn we are supposed to pity and feel lucky we're not them. sometimes both!
also you ever notice how it's basically always arms? lower limb amputations are orders of magnitude more common than upper, my prosthetist said i was probably only the 4th or 5th upper limb she'd worked with in her career, with literally hundreds of lower limb fits. but fiction doesn't seem to reflect that, huh? or any other part of the reality of disability. it's always cool as fuck robot arms, never cool as fuck wheelchairs or crutches or dialysis machines or colostomy bags. a fair few "i was blind but now i can see with Robot Eyes and also infrared and xray" around, which again, plays into that "we can fix you and make you cooler" propaganda.
by the way, up above when i was describing body powered arms, if you wondered to yourself why i went with a myoelectric one instead when i clearly believe body powered is better… yeah. i am not immune to propaganda! i too wanted to be cool as fuck. i spent years with deteriorating function in my hand for reasons that are still unknown, was misdiagnosed and medically neglected to the point that removing my hand seemed to be the only option left to offer some relief, and even that was a clusterfuck that left me worse than ever… of course i wanted to believe in the power and prestige of a cool robot arm that fiction promised me.
but fiction promises fantastical lies. and so.
we get to the writing advice portion of the novella that is this post. you asked for advice on how to write a disabled character with an upper limb prosthesis. you've read the tl;dr, you've read everything above i assume, you know i don't want you to do it. the obvious twist is that it's been writing advice all along, me trying to share my perspective on what it's like being an amp with a robot arm and how shitty it is, implying how almost any fully realised and realistic character that's missing an upper limb would give up on a prosthesis at all. you can already tell that every value judgement in me says "don't give her a prosthesis, no matter how functional or cool you make it. don't try to make the tech better to justify it, just let her be one armed, one handed. just let her be disabled, but not helpless. let her show off her elbow or underarm carry strength. let her love interest appreciate how soft and squishy her residual limb is in a moment of tenderness. let her natural disabled body be respected and valued."
but that's a personal value judgement from me, and you are the author of your own work. i know it's trite to say, but you are! even the act of deferring to someone with lived experience in the hope of doing a better job at representation is a value judgement, a good choice in my opinion, but one you needn't necessarily take. maybe you do want to write a character that has a cool as fuck unrealistic robot arm as a power fantasy, or a comfort blanket… i did.
i've been slowly writing my own probably terrible scifi epic for over a decade now, and when my arm was giving me hell back then, i'd take great comfort in this fantasy of my protagonist with her chunky robot arm, the terrible traumatic suffering of her loss, overcoming, the power and ability her advanced prosthesis gives her over others, that she alone has access to, because others are not willing to make the sacrifices required. inspiration porn. awful stuff to me now, but empowering to me then. as i grew and gained direct experience, i slowly reimagined her, rewrote her, ship of theseus'd her into an entirely new character; a reflection of me now, bitter at the whole thing, spiteful that her natural flesh arm evokes fear and distrust, but unwilling to suffer the pain and frustration of her unnatural prosthesis just to make others comfortable and respect her as "whole", however artificial that whole is. and as with the ship of theseus being two ships, once i realised the transformation, i re-added the old protagonist back in whole cloth as a separate character; proud of her robot arm and its power, but in new context, as a foil and antagonist, an in-universe military prosthesis propaganda figure to reflect how i now feel characters like her exist to us, the readers.
i'm not just sharing that as egotistical self promotion, but to highlight that, even if i sit here begging you all up and down not to write characters with robot arms for how bad and unrealistic they are; there's still something genuine and true that their inclusion can say. the great thing about the story that you're writing is that only you can write it, as they say. but i whole heartedly believe that to write to your best, you have to be aware of what you're writing and why. as tempting as it is to feel these characters form naturally in us and therefore we're averse to changing traits about them that feel organic and self evident; as authors we have omnipotent control over the text, every trait and detail is a reflection on us, so we'd sure as hell better understand why we're choosing to write a character with this trait. because anything you write without being aware of intent will take on its own meaning in the space between.
and on that note, if i don't say this, i'm leaving it to be inferred: i definitely don't want to appear to come down on the side of saying "you cannot write an amputee unless you are one", because we are rarer than single young bisexual unicorns! and it would be a tragedy if anyone read through all this and then turned away in fear, deciding to never write an amputee character (with or without robot arm) because they feel they can't do it justice… believe me, no matter what anyone says, some hack writer somewhere is going to keep writing adam jensens and winter soldiers. don't let them be the only voices in fiction! just try to do your best.
so my ultimate advice on the topic of writing a character with a prosthetic limb is to ask yourself one question in two different frameworks, and meditate on what you feel the answer is:
why does she have a prosthesis?
from a doylelist perspective as the kids say, as an author with omnipotent control, why are you choosing to write about this topic? why are you choosing to give this trait to this character? what does it say about how you view ability and disability, what makes a person normal, and what our society values? will you let her be in her natural body? or will you give her a prosthesis, force her to wear it by authorial fiat, or author her a meaningful reason to choose to? if yes, be sure you know; why did you give her a prosthesis?
and from a wastonian perspective, diegetically, inside the story, why does she choose to wear a prosthesis? what does it say about her inner character, and how she interacts with the world? how does she feel about doing it, is she prideful and loves the attention she gets, or does she resent whatever necessitates its use? how do people in this world view ability and disability, what does this society value? and above all, whatever the answer to these questions, whether or not she uses a prosthesis or is badass without one, how does she deal with the eternal freezing cold that every amputee ever feels constantly in their residual limb and why does nobody make a heat pack that fits over a nub without drafty gaps???
i can't outright tell you how to write a good upper limb amputee, but if you at least know why you're writing one and for what purpose, you're on track to write the best character that you can. that's the best advice i can give… other than, like, this whole rambly mess.
and, as a reward for reading this far, please have a very blurry cryptid photo of my cat doing his old man sit:
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theheartofthe-sea · 2 years
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Alphabet
E is for ... Evander
"Evander had put a hat on in order to shield his eyes from the sun. Bastien thought it was to hide his face from onlookers, but that would do no good. The likelihood that someone would recognize him was minuscule. No commoner had seen the crown prince enough to recognize him on the street."
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blurbsnblurbs · 2 years
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Hello
welcome to my blog, my name is Bev! this blog is dedicated to my writing, I will occasionally post little blurbs of my writing here. The goal is to be able to document my progress and grow my skills ad maybe create a following.  I love reading, animals, and food. Who knows ill probably write about that too.  This blog is a safe place for my thoughts and hopefully for others too.
here is my actual blog here : https://blurbsnblurbs.blogspot.com/?m=1
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magdaleneiix · 2 years
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What drives our need to be wanted?
We are wanted by the earth, at the end of all things. That is where our physical earthly bodies go to rest, recycle itself back to the earth.
We are always wanted.
We always go back.
-magdalene reeves
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chaengluva · 2 months
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Battle of the Rivals
I have already uploaded this to wattpad on my book with imagines there, I'm going to put them here too.
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Regina Geogre x Fem!Reader ~
- - -
Everyone of North Shore high knew Regina George, they knew her as the queen bee, the top of the food chain, the apex predator, everyone knew this expert for the new girl Y/n L/n. Who happened to be you, you  just came from an old school that wasn't really working for you. You walked into the new school with confidence, you almost gagged at what everyone was wearing, cheap outfits. Her father owns a huge business, You were wearing Yves Saint Laurent from head to toe (as you casually wear to school)
You walked to your first class, rolling your eyes seeing everyone in the class. You sat next to this girl who had slightly dyed hair, it was the only seat available. The girl looked towards her friend on the other side of her, he smiled and looked at you, "Hello." He smiled, you looked at him with a confused expression on your face, "Umm Hi?"  They glance at each other and roll their eyes, "No need to have an attitude. I'm Janis" The girl says, you roll your eyes and smile, "I'm Y/n L/n" You turn your head to the guy, "I'm Damien."
You smirk and turn your head  to the teacher, she speaks up, "Hi guys we have a new student in our class," Everyone turns to look at you, smiling confidently, you saw the way everyone looked at you, knowing the effect you had on everyone, you decided to wink at a few of the boys, making them blush and go crazy. The bell rang, "Sit with us at lunch!" Janis says, you nod, grabbing your YSL bag and YSL purse, you get up and walk away, following them to the cafeteria.  
Walking to the seat, you notice everyone's eyes on you, Janis and Damien do too, they smile and look at you, Damien looks at Janis and smirks, Janis just rolls her eyes, sitting down opposite You. You all start talking, you're halfway through eating your food realising that you forgot your drink, "Shit, I forgot a drink, I'll be right back." You tell Janis and Damien, they nod. You get up and bump into someone, her lunch got all over you, you gave her a disgusted look. "Watch where you are going!" She exclaimed, "Me?" You ask in shock, she nods and you roll your eyes.
"You're the one who bumped into me." You tell her, she laughs, rolling her eyes, "Listen I don't know who you were at your old school but here, I run the place." You look her up and down, rolling your eyes, "Sure you do." With that you walk off, she grabs your wrist, touching your YSL blazer, "Get your poor hands off my clothes!" The blonde girl laughs at you, "Oh please, I'm the richest girl here in North Shore." You lick your lips, "Well I guess North Shore has to change their stats!"
Walking away, leaving the girl in shock. She huffs and walks to her table, sitting next to Gretchen, the brown haired girl looks at her and pouts, "Oh Regina I'm sorry-," She touched her back to comfort her, but Regina shoved it off, "Don't touch me." Gretchen quickly hid her hands, "Was she a threat to you?" Karen asks, Regina looks at her dumbfounded on how she could even think such a thing, "Threat? Are you kidding?" Karen's facial expression changes at the tone in her voice, being scared with how angry Regina sounded.
But deep down in Regina's heart, she did see Y/n as a threat to her social status and the hierarchy of the school. She would never vocalise this, no one would ever let this go if they found out, she decided to keep quiet and hope to never see you again. 
Well that didn't last long, you happened to be in her English class, Regina's eyes went wide when she saw you, writing down in your book, you look up and the two of you have eye contact for a few seconds before Regina gets flushed and quickly looks away. Regina did not like you, that would fuck everything up if she liked you (She's heavily closeted, to the point where she's still kind of in denial) She was still standing at the front of the class, the teacher was awkwardly waiting for her to sit down.
"Regina!" She yelled, bringing her back to reality, "Oh yeah," She says, "I said take a seat next to Y/n, you will be doing the project with her." Regina's eyes go wide, she then rolls them and makes her way over to the seat next to you, your bag is on the seat next to it, she just stands there, waiting for you to move the bag, which you aren't doing (on purpose) making her really annoyed.
She picked up your bag and dropped it on your lap, making you look at her in shock, "Seriously?" Regina's eyes hurt from rolling them from your attitude, "Yes seriously, I need to sit down so I can pay attention, someone has to be doing the work." You look at her, obviously annoyed, "I can do the work too you know." You argue, Regina laughs, looking down, "Sure you can." Regina says sarcastically.
Regina sits down, glancing over at you, looking you up and down before licking her lips. There was a short moment of silence,   "So how is this going to work, how will we do this stupid project." You say, Regina rolls her eyes, "First of all, It's not stupid, the project goes to our final grade.. If you even care about that." Y/n was fuming with anger, she opened her mouth to start talking but Regina cut her off, taking her by surprise, "Since I'm the better person, you can come to my house," Regina said, writing down the address, handing the sticky pad to you. "Be no later than 5pm, no earlier either."
The bell rings and you groan, already sick of everyone at this school, Regina George's confidence was really annoying you. You walk up to Janis and Damien who are standing by their locker, "I hate Regina George." Janis and Damien look at each other, Damien closes his locker, and walks to stand beside you, you're in the middle of the two of them, they are both looking at you, waiting for you to spill what happened. "Well she's clearly threatened by me, I'm richer and prettier than her." 
"Well we hate Regina because one time-," Damien starts but Janis hits him cutting him off, not wanting the story to be told, "Anyway, wish me luck, I have to see her after school today." Janis and Damien's eyes go wide, "What do you mean? Why would you do that?" Janis asks, "You push your YSL glasses, glaring into their eyes, making them step back slightly, "I didn't ask to go there, I have to for a project." Pausing to fix your hair, "I would never hang out with her by choice."
Walking outside of the school, Janis and Damien walk behind you, seeing you go in to your car and drive off, "Fuck, I think we have another Regina George." Damien says, annoyed, Janis laughs looking at Damien, "Nah, Regina will show her, trust me, I was friends with her, remember?" Janis says, Damien nods, as they walk to the tree they always sit under. "You're right."
It was almost 5pm, Y/n was walking up to her house, wearing a new outfit, this time wearing head to toe Prada, knocking the door, a few seconds later, Regina answers, she's wearing a white shirt and grey track pants, her hair is in a messy bun and her make up has been removed. "You know we will just be in my room." You walk in, shoving your bag in her chest, making her hold it. "I know, I have to dress for the occasion, I decided to put on something cheap."
Regina was so annoyed, she walked up to her room with you following behind, the project was already so set up, you looked around her room, "Wow, your room is.." Regina assumed what you were going to say, she smirked and said, "I know, It was my parents, but I made them trade me."
You laughed in her face, "Well that's sad, I was going to say small before I was so rudely interrupted." Regina was fuming with anger, "Look I don't know what your problem is, but I think we need to make a few things clear." You nod, "That's right, we do, I'm richer and prettier than you." You say, only making Regina more angry. She walks closer to you, you walk backwards not liking her getting in your personal space.
You hit the back of the bed, your legs fall so now you're sitting on the bed, looking up at Regina with her staring down at you. "W-what do you want Regina?" You ask shyly, "Where did that attitude go? Where's your confidence?" Regina asks, teasingly, "Just answer my question, What do you want?"
Regina licks her lips, looking at you up and down, leaning her face in so it's only inches away from yours. "You." You were taken back by her answer, it was something you weren’t expecting so it made your body jolt back. “You. Want Me? In what way?” You say honestly confused, Regina chuckles, “I could tell you.. But maybe I’ll just show you.” She leans in kissing your lips, hands moving to your waist to hold your body close to hers, you kiss back making her sigh in relief.
Her lips are still attached to yours, you move across the bed so now she is on top of you, while your leaning against the wall behind the bed, she moves her lips from yours, taking a short look at your swollen lips, your breathing gets heavier as her lips move down to your collarbone, she tugs on your shirt, wanting to kiss down your body move, she looks up at you. “R-Regina I have never done this before.” She moves her body back up so her lips are just above yours, “Do you want to?” You nod, she shakes her head, “Words baby.”
“Yes.” 
Smirking, she takes off your shirt and smiles at your body, leaning closer, “You even have a designer bra?” You smile, nodding, “Only for you.” Regina smirks, reaching under your back to unclip your bra. She starts kissing your breasts, she looks up at you while she's doing so, her eyes make you go insane. You let out quiet moans, her lips going down to your waist, reaching the hem of your prada skirt, “I never would have thought you were this innocent Y/n.”
Taking the skirt off, she stares at your body for a few seconds, licking her lips, taking off your lace panties, “Tell me if it’s too much, okay baby?” You nod, she leans in, adding pleasure to your whole body, your back arches and your hands go to her hair, gripping on it for dear life.
Hours passed, you’ve been overstimulated but Regina wasn’t too rough, she only did stuff you were comfortable with, you were laying down next to Regina, breathing heavily, her hands were playing with your hair as you caught your breath, “I accept your attitude to change at school.” Regina says, breaking the silence, “Yeah, and what if it doesn’t.” You ask, she smirks, “Then I’ll just have to punish you.”
Smiling, leaning into her chest, her hands rested on your waist and pulled you closer. The two closed their eyes, falling asleep until the next morning arose. Janis and Damien will be in for a big surprise when they hear what happened.
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bunniposts · 1 year
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you’re back! but you’re not you, you’re more
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sissylittlefeather · 2 months
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How the Web Was Woven: Chapter 10
A/N: Thank you for your patience as I got wrapped up writing everything but this. I knew this chapter would be a tough one, so I kept putting it off. But I hope you all enjoy it. If you haven't been paying attention, this is the soulmate/time travel AU between Elvis and a fem!reader. It's still 2016/1966.
Need to catch up? Here is my Masterlist
Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (m receiving) masturbation, use of sex toys, overstimulation, squirting, dirty talk, and angst.
Word count: ~3.5k
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"Yes."
******
You've taken a short leave of absence from work because of everything you've been going through, so you get to spend the next few weeks just having fun with Elvis.
And that's exactly what you do. It drives him crazy that all his money is back in 1966 and he can't buy you a ring, but otherwise you're very happy together. Luckily, your job pays well, so you don't have to worry about that much. You offer to buy your own ring, but he refuses to let that happen. Instead, he gives you his watch to wear and insists he's going to get a job.
"I think I'd like to apply for the police academy." He says shyly over dinner one night.
"That sounds like a great idea! We need to find a way to get you a social security card, though. We can't use anything that says you were born in 1935."
"I didn't even think about that."
"It's okay. I have a former client that might be able to help us."
And sure enough, knowing criminals pays off. You manage to get a birth certificate that says he was born in '85 and use that to get him the rest of his credentials. Everything is going well when you go back to work. He gets a short-term job at Guitar Center just for something to do before he applies for the academy. Secretly, he loves it. He learns a lot from the kids he works with and before too long he's an expert in everything in the store. It's strange to admit it, but he's enjoying just being "John" and not having to be Elvis Presley.
One day, he looks in the mirror and almost has a heart attack. You come up behind him and wrap your arms around his waist.
"What is it, babe?"
"My hair. It's growing out. And turning light again." You can tell this bothers him. And that he refuses to acknowledge the grays that are mixed in.
"Well, get it cut. We do still have barber shops in 2016."
"I will. But the color..."
"I'll dye it." He looks at you curiously.
"You can do that?"
"Of course. I've done my own before. Black is easy." You shrug and he smiles.
Next thing you know, he's sitting on a chair in the bathroom with a towel around his neck and you're wearing gloves and squirting black hair dye onto his head. Keeping him still is damn near impossible and you wonder how he managed this in the '60s. When you reach the point where he's just waiting, you have to read to him to keep him from flipping hair dye all around the bathroom. He sits still when you produce a philosophy book that was written in the last fifteen years. When the timer goes off, he wants you to keep reading, but you'll have to come back to it later. You rinse his hair and put him in the shower and he makes you get in too. It doesn't take long for him to enter you from behind and fuck you silly in the shower. You ignore yet another portal and dry his hair with the blow dryer. He looks in the mirror to inspect your work.
"Not bad, honey. Thanks."
"You're welcome." You reach up and tussle his hair since it doesn't have anything in it yet. He grabs you and throws you over his shoulder, carrying you to your bedroom.
This is what it's like when you're together. Everything is foreplay and you live for the moments you spend with each other. Now, you have your fair share of little arguments, but it's never something that you can't overcome and talk your way through. In fact, you talk a lot, all the time, and that's what keeps you together. There are no secrets and everything is a conversation. This is out of character for both of you, but something about your relationship brings out the best in both of you and you thrive as a couple. Even the boring days are happy for you.
******
"Babe, can you grab my phone charger? It's on my nightstand." You ask Elvis as he's coming back from the bathroom to the couch one afternoon.
"Sure, hon. What does it look like?" He calls from the bedroom. You stifle a laugh. Of course he wouldn't know. Sometimes you forget he's out of place here in 2016.
"It's like a long cord with a little box on the end that plugs into the wall." After a few minutes you start to think he's having trouble finding it, so you decide to help. You get up and walk into the bedroom. He's standing there in front of your nightstand with the top drawer open.
"You okay?" You ask tentatively.
"Yeah, I just. Honey, what are these?" He gestures to the things inside the drawer and you blush.
"Oh, um, those are... toys... but not for kids..." You walk up next to him and look at your collection of vibrators and dildos in the drawer.
"Toys?" He looks at you with an intrigued look on his face.
"Yeah. For... well, for sex." His eyes go wide and he looks back at the contents of the drawer. Then, he looks back at you with a look somewhere between sheepish and mischievous.
"How do they work?"
"Well..." You take them out and lay all four of them in a line on the bed. "This one is just a vibrator. It vibrates and you put it on the clit. This one is too, but it also goes inside." You continue down the line describing each toy and he nods along like a good little student. When you get to the rabbit, his eyes go even wider.
"What is that?"
"This is called a rabbit." You turn it on so he can see how it moves.
"Whoa."
"Yeah. The bunny ears go on your clit and vibrate and this part-" You point to the dildo part.
"I think I know where that part goes." He chuckles and you laugh a little too. You turn the rabbit off and put it back on the bed, waiting for him to say something.
"Why do you have so many?"
"Babe, I'm a woman in the 21st century. I have needs."
"Oh!" He laughs and blushes slightly.
"And honestly, this is a pretty modest collec-"
"Can we try one?" He interrupts you and you look up at him to find his eyes sparkling with curiosity and something else entirely.
"You want to try one?" He bites his bottom lip and looks at the toys and then back at you.
"Yeah. Can we?"
"We can do whatever you want, babe."
"Then actually I wanna try two." You suppress a smile. He's so excited and it's cute when he's like this.
"Which two?" He grabs the first vibrator and then hesitates.
"Fuck it. I'm curious." He grabs the rabbit and you put the other two back in the drawer. You lay down on the bed and he undresses you carefully. When you go to take his shirt off, though, he stops you.
"Oh no, honey, I just wanna play with you."
"Ohhhh." You lay back on the bed and he finishes taking the rest of your clothes off. Once he's got you completely naked, he runs his hand from the middle of your chest down to your center.
"Are you excited for this baby? You're already wet for me."
"I am." You answer breathily as he slides a finger inside you. He hands you the vibrator.
"Show me how you use this one." You click it on to the speed that you like and then place it gently on your sensitive bud. Immediately, you throw your head back and moan.
"Wow." He says quietly under his breath.
"Mmmm." You can't make words with the intensity of the pleasure that's rushing through you. He continues to push his one finger in and out of you as you move the vibrator around on your clit and he watches in awe. When you come, hard, he looks up at you, surprised.
"Already?!" You feel yourself pulse around his finger as the orgasm washes over you, bathing you in exquisite pleasure. When you come back down, you pull the vibrator away and look down at him.
"Yeah. It happens fast."
"Can you do it again?"
"I can do it over and over as much as I want, really."
"Okay, this is my favorite thing from 2016." He grabs the vibrator and looks at it. Then, he turns it on and puts it back on you. After 3 more orgasms, you have to beg him to stop because you're so sensitive.
"I need a break, baby." You put your hand in his hair and try to gently pull him up to lay next to you on the bed, but he resists.
"I haven't even tried this one yet." He holds up the rabbit and you whimper. "You can do it, honey, show me how this one works for you."
You take the rabbit and slowly push it inside you. Then, you arrange the ears to be just where they need to be on your clit. You whimper again and he pushes the button to turn it on.
"Oh FUCK." You say it loudly and slam your hand on the bed and he laughs. "FUCK FUCK FUCK!"
He laughs again and starts to slowly move the rabbit in and out of you, mimicking what he would do with his cock. You come again, harder than you ever have, and try to pull back away from him and off of the rabbit, but he follows you and keeps pushing it in and out of you. By this point your whole body is shaking and covered in sweat. You know what's coming and you have to stop him before it happens.
"No no no! FUCK." You scream and pull the rabbit out as you come again, but this time when you pull the dildo out, you also squirt everywhere. And because of his position between your legs, his whole chest gets soaked. This is what you were trying to avoid. "OH MY GOD."
This might be the most embarrassed you've ever been, so you try to back away from him and curl into a ball, but Elvis just busts out laughing. He does the biggest laugh he's done since you've been together and rolls over on his back unable to catch his breath.
"I'm sorry." You cover your face with your hands and wish you could just disappear.
"You told me to stop and I didn't! I got what I deserved!" He continues laughing his big-joy laugh and then sits up, pulling his shirt up and over his head. Thats when he notices you trying to sink into the pillows. "Aw, honey, come here. You don't need to be embarrassed. C'mere."
He crawls over to you and wraps you in his arms, pressing his bare skin against yours.
"You knew that was going to happen, didn't you?" You nod.
"Yeah, that's not the first time I've done it."
"You know, I've heard about it but I kinda always thought it was just an urban legend. I've never seen it myself until now. Looks like I was wrong!" He laughs again and you can't help but start to laugh with him. You relax in his arms and both of you lay there laughing together.
After a few minutes, he rolls into you and presses his erection into your thigh.
"Oh, no, you wore me out. You're gonna have to take care of that yourself." He whimpers and pouts, sticking out his bottom lip.
"Will ya just talk to me at least? And stay naked so I can look at ya."
"That I can do." He rolls onto his back and pulls his pants off so that he's naked too. He wraps his left hand around his cock and starts to stroke himself, gently moving his foreskin back and forth.
"Mmm. Talk to me baby." You roll over on your side and he looks down at your body as he pumps his dick.
"Imagine that I'm sucking your cock. I'm doing that thing you love where I pull the whole thing in my mouth and you hit the back of my throat."
"Mmm yes, baby, that's so good."
"And now I'm holding you back and licking a slow circle around the tip." When you say this, he rubs his thumb over the head of his cock and groans.
"What else, baby?"
"Now I'm gonna climb on top of you and fuck you with my tight little pussy."
"Goddamn, baby, you know I love your pussy." He closes his eyes and continues stroking his cock, picking up speed.
"I'm sliding up and down on top of you, taking you so deep, bouncing on you just like you like."
"Yes, fuck baby, mmmm."
"You like it when I lean against your chest and let you fuck me so hard from underneath?"
"God, yes, baby, I fuckin' love that. I'm gonna come." At the last second, you crawl between his legs and pull his cock into your mouth. "OH FUCK YES BABY!"
He comes hard into your throat and you suck it down, swallowing every last drop. You keep bouncing your mouth on him as he softens and he laughs and grabs your hair.
"Stop, baby, it's too sensitive!" You keep sucking him and he does a little scream. Finally, you pull off and look up at him.
"Oh, is it too much? You want me to stop?"
"Yes! Yes! Okay, you made your point!" He grabs you and pulls you into his arms and then rolls over, pinning you on the bed as you both laugh again. He starts peppering your face with kisses as you giggle.
"I love you, y/n." He stops and looks into your eyes, moving so that you're no longer pinned.
"I love you too, Elvis." He caresses the side of your face and then runs his thumb across your lips.
"I'm so glad I'm here."
"Me too." He pulls you to his chest and you lay there together, naked and wrapped in each other, both of you content to stay this way for the rest of your lives.
******
In May, Elvis has saved enough to buy you a perfectly respectable engagement ring. He assures you that you'd have at least 10 carats in 1966, but you love your 1/2 carat solitaire because you know how hard he worked for it.
By June, you're both tired of not being married, so you decide to load up and head to Vegas. At the airport, Elvis is totally perplexed by all the safety procedures to get on the plane. You sigh deeply and explain 9/11 to him. He's almost in tears by the end of your explanation and he's quiet for the first hour of the flight. Eventually, he comes to terms with the reality of what happened and he kisses you on the cheek and takes your hand.
"I'm excited to be your husband." He smiles and rubs small circles on the back of your hand. It reminds you of the time you went to breakfast in 2007 and the whole history of your relationship hits you like a ton of bricks. You haven't been together consistently, but you've been a part of each others' lives for almost ten years. And now you'll be together until the end. You sniffle and a single tear slides down your cheek.
"Honey, what's wrong?" He kisses the back of your hand.
"Nothing. I'm just so happy. I love you so much."
"I love you too, hon." The plane starts its descent and your heart flip flops with excitement that you'll be married to Elvis soon.
******
Your wedding is exactly what you'd expect from a Vegas chapel, but you're so in love that you don't care. All you see is each other.
That night, you get the honeymoon suite at a casino hotel and drink champagne and make love as many times as you can before you pass out in each other's arms. Overall, the whole experience will live forever in both of your memories as one of the best nights of your life.
The next day, you're laying on the couch in your suite enjoying room service and watching tv. You go to the bathroom and he flips the station to an entertainment news show. When you come back, he's absolutely enthralled and you look at the tv to see what it is.
It's Lisa Marie.
She's recently announced that she's getting a divorce, so she popped up in entertainment media again. You grab the remote and turn the tv off as fast as you can. Luckily, you catch it before they say too much.
"Who was that?"
"Who?"
"That woman. You know what I'm talking about. Her name is Presley. Who is she, y/n?"
"She's... she's your daughter." You know what her existence means for you. Your heart shatters into a thousand pieces and you wish more than anything that he hadn't seen her on tv.
"My daughter? How?"
"Elvis, you know how." He looks down at the floor and takes a deep breath. You slide onto the floor in front of him and put your hands on his knees. He looks into your eyes and you both start to cry.
"I have to leave."
"Please don't! God, Elvis, please don't leave me here without you." He closes his eyes and shakes his head.
"I have to. I'm her father. I have to be her father."
"No! Elvis, please!" You know you're begging now as the tears run down your cheeks.
"I have to go now."
"Now?! Why now?"
"If I don't go now, I won't go." You grab his hand and put it on your cheek.
"Then don't." He stands up and walks away from you.
"Damnit, y/n, please don't make this harder than it already is!" He picks up the tv remote and throws it against the wall as hard as he can. "Goddamnit!"
You sit on the carpet weeping and rocking back and forth. He looks at you on the floor, his tortured heart evident on his face. He walks over to you and scoops you into his arms, carrying you to the bed and holds you as you cry for an indeterminate amount of time.
When you finally calm down, he kisses your face down to your mouth. You pull away from him.
"You just want to make a portal."
He grabs your chin and makes you look into his eyes.
"Yes, I need a portal. But more than that, I want to make love to my wife. Because that's who you are. And I don't care who I marry that's that girl's mother. You are my wife and you always will be. In my heart, I am yours. Forever, honey. Forever." He kisses you again and you submit to him fully, letting him undress you as lovingly as possible. You hold him close to your body and kiss as much of his skin as you can reach. He pushes into you slowly and gently makes love to you with his head on your shoulder. By the end of it, you're both crying. He tries to push off his orgasm as long as possible, but eventually he has to give in. Both of your shoulders shake with sobs and you hold each other as close as you can for what you're pretty sure are your last moments together. The portal appears like it always does and he drags himself away from you to get dressed. Once he has all his clothes on, he grabs you and holds you so tightly it almost hurts. He whispers in your ear.
"Never forget that I belong to you, always. Know that for the rest of my life, I will love you and I will miss you." He presses his forehead to yours and kisses your lips one last time. "You are and always will be the love of my life. Goodbye, honey. I love you."
He walks away from you towards the portal, not letting go of your hand until the last possible second. He looks back at you one last time and then goes through the portal. You fall to the floor and sob out loud. When the portal disappears, you scream, "No!"
He's really gone. And now that he knows about Lisa, he's never coming back.
******
Three weeks later, you're back home. You sit in your bathroom and laugh hysterically. It's all you can do to keep from breaking down completely. You look down at it in your hand again.
It's positive.
You don't know how, but it is.
Somehow, you're pregnant with the child of Elvis Presley.
******
Come back for Chapter 11 soon!
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Taglist:
@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @rosepresley68 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @that-hotdog @eddiesgirlforever @helen06dreamer @returntopresley @rjmartin11
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mjjune · 1 year
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How To Have a Good Beta Reading Experience (or: what I've learned from 3 years of beta reading)
So lately I've been having a lot of discussions about beta reading with my discord groups so I thought I would write it out here and also share some resources I've used over the years.
This is mostly by and for writers, however readers can learn from this post as well!
DISCLAIMER: I'm by no means a writing expert, but I have been either beta reading others' books, or having my own stories beta read consistently since 2020. THIS IS ALL PERSONAL EXPERIENCE/OPINION. Others may agree or disagree ❤️
Here are the main points I'm going to talk about in this post, and I'll do it under the cut to save your dash space:
Understanding Alpha vs. Beta Readers
Choosing Readers
Being Clear About Feedback
Swapping / Compensation
The Importance of Writing Community/Groups
Websites/Resources for Finding Beta Readers
1. Understanding Alphas vs. Betas
So this is extremely important and for me, this may be the difference between me finishing your book or not. Many times, especially from new writers who had never had anyone read their work before, had extremely rough drafts that were barely coherent and were NOT beta ready, but asked me to beta read. I am not a person who can look past extensive grammar errors, nor am I the kind of person who will sit and fix all your grammar line-by-line for you.
Alpha Readers - for first/second drafts
Beta Readers - for polished drafts
It is ok for alpha reads to be unpolished and have grammar issues, and it's even ok if they have plot issues, continuity errors, etc. Because alpha readers are there for that purpose: to be the first eyes on your story and help you find and fix those issues.
The issue I have had over and over, though, is people asking for a beta reader when what they really needed was an alpha. I went in expecting a polished draft and got someone's Draft 0. In some cases, I got 100k drafts where the writer obviously had no idea how to format dialogue grammar and every single dialogue was wrong. Obviously this made me slow and in many cases, unable to finish.
Alpha readers will go in expecting it to be unpolished, and will be prepared to look past grammar/stylistic errors in order to focus on the big picture issues (plot holes, character consistency, pacing/engagement issues, etc). A Beta may be too frustrated by an unpolished draft to finish it or provide the feedback you're looking for. If you have been experiencing a lot of betas backing out and not finishing your work, you might consider this as a possible reason why.
I would also recommend, if you have never had anyone read your work before, even if you have had multiple drafts, it might be safest to ask for alphas rather than betas.
A quick way to see if your work is beta ready (again, personal experience): Pick up a published book from the shelf in your genre. Does your book read similarly? Does your formatting & grammar look the same? Bonus: read it out loud! If reading the published book out loud is significantly easier than reading yours out loud, you're probably in the alpha stage.
TL;DR: Understand your draft and which level of reader your draft is ready for. Know the difference between polished and unpolished, and be upfront about it.
2. Choosing Alphas/Betas
You may not like it but: Just because someone is your friend, real life or online, does not mean they will make a good reader for you.
#1 MOST IMPORTANT: GET READERS WHO LIKE & REGULARLY READ YOUR GENRE!
I cannot stress this enough. As someone who writes vampire content, I cannot begin to express to you the amount of useless comments I got from readers who had clearly never read a vampire book in their life.
You need someone who is familiar with your genre and you likes your synopsis/blurb.
Caveat: that said, I did find a few great betas who had never read vampire content before and gave awesome feedback. However, these readers knew and admitted they knew nothing about the paranormal genre, and because of that did not make any comments on worldbuilding, instead sticking to plot and character development only. Some readers can't make this separation.
Another thing I would recommend, especially if you are swapping or the beta reader is also a writer/on writeblr, I would recommend reading their writing before having them beta read. If you read their excerpts and see that it's really unpolished or a style that's vastly different than yours, that might change whether you want them to read for you.
In my most recent beta round, I used a google form to do a quick survey to see who was interested in beta reading. This worked really well for me and I would recommend it! You can also use this to make all potential readers agree to not share/distribute/plagiarize your work, so you have it in writing just in case someone were to try something.
This was also a great way to see which genres they usually read and how many times they have beta read in the past!
TL;DR: Get readers who LIKE your genre. Read their writing and see how they write. Use an online signup form to narrow down.
3. Be Clear About The Type of Feedback You Want
This is perhaps the second most important thing when you get readers. Many readers will shy away from reading your work if you have nothing in mind for them to look out for. Also, being clear about this shows that you 1) know it isn't perfect and needs work and 2) you have insight into what the issues already are.
For Alphas, these traits are what I have found to be the most helpful:
Immediate inline reactions - particularly emotional engagement and pointing out lines that resonated with them
NO grammar/stylistic comments (unless incomprehensible)
Questioning of worldbuilding, character decisions, and character development - particularly if confusing or unclear
Comments on action sequences & their readability
Comments on believability of the plot points/progression
For Betas, these are what have been most helpful to me:
Comments on grammar, especially if repetitive
Stylistic comments, particularly for over-used words or noticeably repetitive sentence structures
Comments on pacing
Comments on plot initiation point and buildup/execution of the climax
Not questioning my worldbuilding/plot and trusting that what I have written is intentional. Only pointing out areas that have on-page evidence of inconsistencies.
Everything above is simply personal preference. You might find other comments to be better for alphas/betas. However, being upfront about which comments you want or don't want can drastically change which people want to read for you!
Some readers are obsessed with in-depth inline grammar/style comments, some aren't at all. Some writers LOVE these in-depth grammar comments, and some don't. Being clear about what you want is the best way to make sure you and your readers are compatible for the stage of editing you're at.
4. Swapping / Compensation
So this one I might have a bit of an unpopular opinion, but I wanted to cover it because so many people talk about it on here and other sites.
Again, based on my personal experience, swapping and compensation does not mean you're going to get better feedback or have a better experience or relationship with readers.
For the record, for everyone who beta reads for me—and finishes—I always offer to read theirs, even if it's a genre I don't like.
Personally, I have never tried compensation (re: money) for beta readers. However, there are a few issues I've come across with swapping:
Mine was beta ready and theirs was unpolished first draft
Our types of feedback didn't align
Our genre preferences didn't align
Their feedback was nowhere near as high quality or constructive as mine
In these cases, one or both of us burnt out on reading the others' work, and then we'd both bail. Especially with #4, it was very disheartening for me to spend hours finding their plot holes, helping them come up with ways to fix them, for them to then write 1 paragraph about what they thought of my story that was extremely surface level. To me, that wasn't even a swap, and was practically worthless. There was even one who got sensitive about the feedback I was providing (which was a queer sensitivity read) and then left almost identical comments on my story, which weren't even relevant. It was like revenge-commenting.
All this to say: I have had positive experiences with swaps. My alpha for twtr was a swap and I really enjoy her work and she enjoys mine, and we will probably continue to swap forever.
This goes back to #2 above: be picky & choose your readers well. Your story is your baby, and it deserves to be critiqued by people who value you and your story, and want to help you make it the best possible version of itself.
To summarize, I have had two good swapping experiences. I have had 10+ good uncompensated betas—with an offer for me to read their stuff when it's ready. Do with that what you will.
5. Writing Community / Groups
On to a more positive note! I have had the best experience here on writeblr, and this is coming from someone who has tried multiple other communities (which I discuss in the last section below). Having my own discord server from tumblr, joining a few other writers' discord servers, has completely changed the game regarding finding consistent betas, more resources, and just having an overall much more positive time writing and editing.
Writeblr keeps me grounded, keeps me hopeful, and even if I share something that doesn't get tons of notes, it's so nice to have interaction. It's so nice to give and get back, consistently.
I do want to emphasize the importance of giving to get back. If no one is liking/interacting with your excerpts, tag/ask games, etc. then that's probably because you're not interacting with them! It's very important to show interest in other people's work!!
I'm not saying you need to jump onto everyone's taglists for all their wips, but join the ones that genuinely interest you the most. Play in ask/tag games consistently. Follow writers back who follow you (if they post things you're interested in, ofc).
I have the same amount of followers as the people I follow right now, and I think that goes to show that people reciprocate here on writeblr! It's a lovely community and don't be afraid to reach out ❤️
I have found almost ALL my recent betas from my tumblr and discord groups. They have been lovely so far and I would highly recommend building up community here if you are interested in finding betas.
6. Websites/Resources for Finding Betas
Alright, last section. Thanks for bearing with me. I'm going to go through the sites I have used, and why I still use them, or why I dropped them.
Scribophile
So, for starters, this is one I don't use anymore. This was the site I first used when I had a polished draft in 2020 and had no idea how to get feedback. Essentially, they have a point-system. The more comments you make, the more points you get, and then when you have 3 points, you can post a chapter. It continues in a cycle.
Pros: Personally, I think the site helped me a lot in realizing what a bad critique looks like (which is helpful!) and also helped me learn which comments/feedback types work for me, and which don't. I don't regret my time there by any means, and I found one life-long friend and beta reader there I wouldn't trade for the world. It also allows you to post/remove your story and the readers don't have direct access to it—meaning if they want to download/steal/plagiarize, they'd have to copy and paste or screenshot chapter by chapter. It's a little safety precaution.
Cons: It's not the best place to get constructive feedback. The issue with their system is it encourages quantity over quality in critiques. Because of that, you'll get strangers rewriting your entire chapter in their own style so they get 2-3 points for one critique, but... was any of it actually helpful to you? Maybe, maybe not. It's also random, so you can't control who comments on your stuff, and they might just comment to get points even if they hate your genre. I also don't think it's fair to have to do 3-5 chapter critiques in order to save up enough points to post ONE chapter of your own. And if you want to post your story for full beta reads and control who reads it and who doesn't, you have to subscribe monthly.
So I keep an eye on it occasionally to look through their forums on writing, agents, publishing, etc. But most of the forums gets nasty, because there are a lot of really pretentious writers who think they know all the rules. If you join small groups (e.g. sub-groups based on diversity, etc) they tend to have better and more meaningful discussions.
Personally, I would never use it for beta/alpha/feedback ever again. This is the site where most of my bad swaps came from. But you might find it useful! So I thought I would share it.
Nanowrimo Forums
This is another one I don't use anymore, but might consider reusing in the future. The biggest issue I have with nanowrimo is that a lot, and I mean A LOT, of these participants are first-time writers and have no concept of what polished vs. unpolished even means. I did find two really good swaps there (actually the only two good full swaps I've had) but those were very hard to find.
There is also the issue that a good chunk of them only write during November, not year round. So for finding consistent, year-long partners, this is not the best option. I'm a member of 2 discords that have all fallen silent as soon as Nano actually ended.
Also, in my experience, asking questions about anything related to "controversial" topics (especially trans and minority ethnic groups) becomes toxic very quick, which is unfortunate. There are even a few moderators who seem to be contributing to the toxic/immature discussions rather than fixing them/shutting them down, which is the main reason I stopped using it.
However, it's a GREAT place to get free, simple covers! Their artisan section is fantastic and there are a lot of people there willing to make basic covers/banners for you for free.
BetaBooks
I've only been using this one about a month so far, but I'm really liking it. It's set up that you can invite betas to your story specifically, or you can look through a beta reader library, read their profiles, and invite them to see if they're interested.
This is essentially an alternative to Scribophile. It allows you to post your story online and find betas and become a beta.
Why I like it better than Scribophile: it's not a point-based system, meaning it's uncompensated so the readers have nothing to gain other than enjoying/helping your story. There's no hard feelings if someone bails. It allows you to see all comments in one place (which Scrib can't do). (And with discount codes found through google, it's cheaper, too. Message me if you need help with this 👀)
It also is all online, easily removable, so readers would have to copy/paste or screenshot chapter-by-chapter to steal it. So again, just a little safety net that makes me feel better.
Writeblr
Yep, that's right. Right here. Actually right here on tumblr has been where I have found the most beta readers and in the shortest time. I talked about this in the section before so I won't regurgitate. But there's a reason why this community is so long-lasting. It really is the best one out there I've found.
TL;DR / IN CONCLUSION:
Know where your book is in terms of reader-readiness. Know the difference between alphas/betas and polished/unpolished. Know the types of feedback that work for you and specifically request it when recruiting betas.
Interact with a community. Give interaction in order to receive, and don't expect people to reblog/like your content if you don't reach out first. Join small, niche writing community discords. Find like-minded writers.
Decide to swap or not, but this won't make or break you.
There are many writing communities out there designed to help you not only find betas, to provide beta-reading feedback forms and commentary. Try them out and see what works best for you.
And above all, thank Writeblr for being such a lovely community ❤️
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