#i've got more concrete plans now. and i think i'm just gonna spend the evening in my hotel room once check in is open

[simplydnp]

💚💚💚💚

thank you anon 💞

[7ndipity]

Disneyland trips

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: what a trip to Disneyland would be like with them.

Warnings: brief mention of sickness

A/N: Full disclosure, I've never actually been to any of the parks, so this is all based off what I know from vlogs. This is just me indulging one of mine and @this-must-be-my-tardis current hyperfixations.

Masterlist

Requests are open

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Jin: Welcome to season 2 of Eat Jin! Fr tho, y'all would be one of those couples that visit every month for a different challenge, like trying/ranking all the different churros or smth. Matching ears, because this man is into couple outfits, idc what anyone says. Goes on a few rides, but screams the whole time and says "no more!" after each one(immediately turns around and gets in line for another one)

Yoongi: Knows all these random facts about the park. Like, did you know that the wedding ring stuck in the concrete outside the Huanted Mansion was originally just part of a pavilion post? Or that they use vegetable oil to grease the trolly tracks on Main Street so it won't leave residue on you shoes? Well, now you do! Actually laughs at the jokes on the jungle cruise, but will vehemently deny it unless you catch it on film.

Hobi: Night time visit because ((vibes)). So many mini photo shoots. Another that's into matching couple ears. Spends ages in Toontown going through the character houses. Gets motion sick after like two rides, and then just want to go to the gift shops and get dole whip. Might legit reuse the popcorn bag/bucket as a regular bag for a bit afterwards(acorn bags 2, disney boogaloo)

Namjoon: A bit embarrassed by the ears, but he'll wear them if it makes you happy. Another fan of going at night because it's a little calmer and y'all can take your time and just wander around. Has a surprising amount of fun on the rides in Fantasyland and even tries his hand at the sword in the stone, insisting he felt it wiggle(pls get him away from there before he breaks it).

Jimin: You might think he would be chill and more go-with-the-flow about your plans for the day, but no, he's got it all mapped out and is determined to do as much as possible. Like y'all are there from gates open to gates close. You work your way though the whole park, from one land to another. By the end of the day, you're both so exhausted you almost fall asleep during the fireworks show, but it was totally worth it.

Taehyung: Lowkey would be into disney-bounding(probably as someone like prince Naveen, so he can keep his aesthetic) but if you don't watch out, he's gonna get too immersed and start talking like the characters. Makes you go on the teacups with him, cause he thinks it'll be cute, but ends up getting motion sick. Soo excited to meet some of the cast members and get pictures. Is just a giant kid having the time of his life.

Jungkook: if you're not into rides, I'm so sorry, because he has to go on Every. Single. Ride. The Matterhorn, Huanted Mansion, Space Mountain(twice), even the Storybook Boat! He's skipping through the whole park, churro in one hand and pulling you along with the other. You're gonna feel so sick, but he's having such a good time, you almost don't have the heart to tell him you need a break. Almost.

[eccentric-nucleus]

i'm gonna be talking about the weird porn game stuff i'm working on now, so you know, watch out

so as you may have gathered from my various posts, i've been working on the hell game 2 engine. currently i have events running mostly-correctly from data files, but i don't currently have state & pc data hooked up correctly so i can't actually e.g., test out various different sex scene variations based on the pc's bodytype. given one of the big failures of hell game (the first) was that i never really got complex event interactions working, i should probably think up some multi-stage demo events and get them working early on, so i don't end up repeating the same mistake

anyway as i have been putting this together i've been reflecting on the stuff i was dissatisfied with with hell game. unfortunately for me one of those things was "the sex scenes weren't as parametric as i wanted". hell game tended to break sex scenes down based on fundamental body plan (what i usually call 'bodytype' b/c that's the variable name for it in the code). that was stuff like: biped, centaur, quadruped, naga, snake, and 'other'. that's already a lot of totally-different variations but given i also let people change size there did kind of also need to be at least some size-based changes. but that's even more stuff to write for a single sex scene to have full coverage.

(this kinda thing is why i love to bring up the whole thing about nagas having a thigh gap in TiTS. they didn't want to change the scene blocking for all the doggystyle sex scenes! you can just say "between your thighs" either way!! i mean i get it, just, lol.)

but the other thing with hell game is that it was always uhhh a very early demo. it was basically a collection of contextless sex scenes with demons, and while there are worse things for a game to be, i did kinda have aspirations of, you know, plot, story, named characters that weren't just procgen demons, etc. so one of the things i've been working on currently is a ~design doc~ that covers setting & story details in a concrete enough way that i can reference off it and not end up writing myself into a corner.

and that gets us to the weird porn part of the post. i haven't fully committed to the current setting concept (scifi space station sucked through an interdimensional portal so it's now orbiting around hell, a la your dooms and hellpoints and the like; i feel like i'm maybe being a little too derivative here) so i won't go into too much detail but on the whole there is probably gonna be a more pronounced, you know, horror/grotesque influence. we'll... see how that works given that it is also a porn game

like yeah yeah plenty of porn games are kind of libidinal nightmare realms. coc had the parasitic dick worms. people love gross sex stuff. i feel like i kinda lost touch with a lot of my audience and now i spend more time around, uh, normal people who don't have deeply-rooted fixations. currently the first encounter i have outlined for this is uhhh a reanimated zombie who... lemme just paste the description in

A thing that was once a dead body, overtaken by something new. Its skin is a faded grey and its muscles are overgrown, proportions inhuman: shoulders impossibly wide, arms and legs slabs of striated muscle. It moves with an inhuman gait, as if the thing inhabiting it is still getting adjusted to human articulation.

There's a squirming thing wrapped around its head, all leathery purple-black flesh. A central mass covers the corpse's head: face smooth, back of the head a mess of overlapping tentacles. It has many long octopus-like tentacles that fan out across its shoulders and back. The tentacles trail down its body, clamped tight to the skin, before they sink into its body across its shoulders, chest, and back, squirming under the skin like gigantic veins. The skin around the punctures is painted with purple-black bruises. Glowing green ichor pulses through its body, pumped into it from its penetrating tentacles, feeding its muscles with unnatural energy. Its skin is a faded grey, streaked with ash, save for where its glowing-green blood flows, forming branching lines of bulging veins that cover its shoulders and chest.

A single loose tentacle extends from its face like an enormous proboscis, tapering in wormlike rings to a squirming tip, slavering shed ichor in gummy lines down its bare chest.

Its cock hangs heavily between its thighs, perpetually bloated and half-hard, with its glowing green ichor visibly pumping through its altered flesh. Its massive, oversized balls churn and lurch behind the fat stalk of its dick, pulsing with burgeoning larvae. Thick, translucent grey pre perpetually spills from its bloated glowing-green cocktip, painting wet smears of fluid down its monstrously-muscular legs.

it talks to you and asks if you wanna get pumped full of squirming zombie larvae so it can reproduce and reanimate more corpses. a lot of the encounter design is very much "what if you could fuck this DOOM monster"

anyway, that's like, normal. that's completely usual actually. having a cop fetish is what's weird and disturbing. okay okay that's just dumb glib moralizing i don't actually think that. but i mean, it is super weird to write stuff like that and then go back into the normal realm where people keep talking about college jocks or w/e.

but before i do much more writing i gotta hammer out the rest of the engine. next up: a lot of variable storage & thinking about how to separate npc data from the events they take part in. that's all stuff that needs to get coded regardless of which setting i go with

[samael-your-guardian-angel]

Meanwhile, at the Ritz...

God, it was a huge relief to finally have a bit of breathing space.

Not that Samael didn't enjoy spending time with all his new friends. But if he had to spend one more night in a sleeping bag or with his face mashed against Asmodeus' tickly neck rufflly-thing, he'd go spare. Again. There were only so many mongoose zoomies he could do without getting bored of those, too. It was blessedly clear out when Samael and Asmodeus finally left Crowley's flat together- no holy water raining from the sky, thank goodness. Samael was sure that Momo would have rather risked a mere umbrella than even try Samael's genius hamster ball idea.

And it was so nice to finally have some "us time" with precious Momo. Samael quickly fell into his old habit of staring and watching Asmodeus enjoy several courses of fine dining, now openly fixated on Mo's mouth. He couldn't help it, really. Now that Samael finally knew what it was like to kiss Asmodeus, he was utterly fixated on Asmodeus' lips, and he was too besotted to hide it anymore.

He'd never known what it was like to want so much before. Was this how humans beings felt? How on earth did they go walking around like this? It was a miracle anybody got anything done.

It was driving Samael to distraction, which is why he didn't remember The Very Important Thing until after he and Asmodeus had checked into their room and set up Eric's presents (what a sweetie!) around the place. Samael was filling up his new little watering can in the bathroom sink when he remembered, and promptly dropped it. It clattered loudly in the sink, so loud it made Asmodeus look up from his wire brushes and salt-and-lemon paste.

"Are you alright in there, dear angel?"

"Yeah," Samael said, thinking about the Very Important Thing and all its implications.

"Did you fall in the sink?"

"Very funny," Samael said, and left the watering can where it lay. There was no easy way to say it, so he stuck his head out of the bathroom and said bluntly, "There's zombies now."

Asmodeus froze in place, like a statue dedicated to cleaning centuries-old dirt off of Roman coins. "I'm sorry, what?"

Samael came back into the bedroom and flopped melodramatically on the carpet. It was very soft, plush, five-star carpet - much more comfortable than Crowley's concrete floors.

"We accidentally made zombies happen," Samael moaned. "Well. I didn't. Technically, Yeshua did. But I didn't realise until I saw the newspaper on my phone. People can't die, and now anyone who should becomes a zombie instead, and - they're gonna go around eating people, and then those people will become zombies, and-" Samael made an explosion noise. "-it's going to turn into Dawn of the bloody Dead out there!"

Asmodeus did not blink.

"We should've just gone home. I should've just brought you home," Samael continued to lament. "I meant to. Meant to drive over here, grab you, drive back- only I ended up passing out 'cause I just had to bring my car with me, and that was too much, and now Eric's phone's gone by now and we can't go home-"

"Yes, we can," Asmodeus interrupted.

Samael sat up.

"What do you mean, we can?"

"We can call my workshop's landline and go back anytime," Asmodeus continued, coolly. Samael stared at him.

"I thought we could only go back through Eric's phone."

"Apparently, we can go back through any of them," Asmodeus said.

"Oh, when did you figure that out? Were you planning to share that with the class anytime soon?" Samael exclaimed, agitated.

"Don't start- I was only just told myself. Yes, told, by the Unmighty-" Asmodeus rolled his eyes as Samael fell back to the carpet, groaning. "I think it was the most polite "please pack up and go, you're overstaying your welcome" I've ever received, if that's what She meant. She even told us how to close the gate behind us."

Samael stared up at the ceiling.

"Why are we still at the bloody Ritz, then?"

"Well- I wasn't sure if we should leave. I've been trying to help with this mystery, you know-"

"It's not our mystery. It's not our world," Samael said. "Ugh, and I could have gone back to water the rest of my plants- they're probably all dead by now-"

"Are the plants really the priority here?"

Samael flapped his hands. "I don't know! I don't know if we're making things worse by staying! If Enoch finds out I was the one who wrote his human name in the Book-"

"How on Earth would he find that out? He can't figure out a shopping cart on his own-"

"If God - doesn't matter which one if She's still God - hinted strongly for us to leave-"

"You cannot possibly be suggesting that we just abandon everyone to deal with the zombie apocalypse on their own."

"We don't have to close the gate behind us!" Samael got up and started pacing. "We can leave it open as a contingency, or even just so we can still ring and chat to everyone-"

"Potential zombie apocalypse aside-" Asmodeus said, putting a hand up. "It might be safer for us here."

"How the Hell would it be safer for us here?"

"Well, somebody from back home sent me here," Asmodeus said. "Someone back home wanted me gone, or us separated, and if we went back and anything happened to you-"

Samael rested his forehead against the nearest wall. "I don't want to be at another bloody impasse, Mo."

"We don't have to decide right now," Asmodeus said. "Hence the Ritz. We can sleep on it, at least, in a proper bed at that."

"Good fucking idea," Samael grumbled, and flopped on the mattress. Asmodeus rolled his eyes again, and returned to his work.

[bisluthq]

When you quit drinking, did you replace that with something else? Like for me, I realized on the weekends if I have something planned, even as late as 3-4 PM, I won't drink that day cuz it's like I know later I need to drive to this thing and go interact with people and be normal. But if I don't have any concrete plans, if it's just like "I need to go to the grocery store at some point today, and then clean my bathroom" then I'm like "why shouldn't I have mimosas at 9 AM?" and then I end up getting completely smashed and can't go to the store later and can't effectively do any chores. I realized that about myself so now I schedule things with friends during the weekends, preferably earlier in the day, so then when I get home I'm like "now it's time to meal prep and clean, and maybe I'll have a glass of wine in a few hours with dinner". Idk I've gotten a lot better at cutting down alcohol, but those wide-open days for me just inevitably lead to me drinking early, even if I've said and committed that I don't want to. It's only when other people are involved in the plans ("I have to meet them here at 1" or whatever, vs "I should go to the store at 11") that I can stop myself drinking. So it's annoying, because I KNOW I can, I just don't have the discipline or willpower to do it if I'm not gonna be directly letting someone down. I don't have anywhere to be til 8 PM tonight lol so even though I was like "it'll be a sober Monday! I'm gonna clean my bathroom and declutter my closer" I still ended up drinking 2 beers and a glass of wine while doing that

ok so this was a lot of how my drinking went dude. Your story is FUCK relatable to me. Except for in the pandemic where I literally wasn’t leaving my house for obvious reasons and then my bed for depression reasons that I do think were interrelated to the drinking (although I’ve been feeling very down the last few days but I’m powering through with no alcohol), I was not a daily drinker and I never got drunk like before important activities or things that I was looking forward to (a few times I did get drunk before social things I was dreading but that’s a separate thing). But if I was just chilling at home, either on weekends as you say or late at night, I would often wind up drinking.

I haven’t replaced it with anything like in terms of substances. I do see myself as California sober not sober sober so I’m open to edibles and shrooms but the thing with me is I’ve never been someone who overindulges in that. It’s something I only do like when I’m with friends who are into that or just with my boyfriend and we want a trippy night. I *have* replaced it with actively getting into other hobbies again and I have a habit tracker where I’ve put in all the things I like to do and if I’m bored I go into the app and look at what I could do today. So personally I’ve got running, yoga, gym class, drawing, Duolingo, reading, this blog, journaling, writing fiction, whatever DIY project I’m busy with in terms of my little furniture stuff, meditation, etc and I track how many minutes and hours a day I spend on all that stuff outside of work which I obviously don’t count in my fun little app. I also try call friends or text with friends if I’m feeling bored like that. And then I’ve been making more complicated food instead of just popping shit in the air fryer or ordering takeout. I have a guitar that I haven’t played in like 10 years that I’m considering starting to play again.

But also it’s just a habit right (well obviously not with people who have physical addictions and there you need to be careful how you come off it) so just… break the habit. Again, I found quit lit really helpful and enjoyed the following books a lot: This Naked Mind, Not Drinking Tonight (it’s a bit heavy in psych babble so not for everyone but was really cool for me), Alcohol Lied To Me, Alcohol Explained, Soberful and maybe ESPECIALLY Sober Curious. There are a couple other really great ones but those stuck out to me. Also reading quit lit just helped me a lot because I was just like constantly drumming it into my head that I don’t need to/want to drink and that it’s the stuff that powers fucking rocket engines right like they use ethanol in rocket fuel lmao idk that I want to put that in my body (but I like Sober Curious in that maybe one day I might idk I don’t know that I want to say “I never ever will” or “I’m powerless over alcohol” because I’m def not lol - the problem is me not alcohol and not me in the sense that I’m like “broken” or whatever). So now I quite genuinely - for right now - don’t want to drink. I’m not holding myself back from it, I’m not counting days until I can again, I am not imposing moderation rules for me, I’m not looking for loopholes and I’m not promising lifelong abstinence. But I just don’t want to right now. We aren’t an alcohol free house - we’ve got fucktons of booze around - and my bf is still having his wine with dinner and beer when he does yard work and actually he even had a screwdriver for breakfast after he joined me for a run this past weekend because that’s what he wanted and I made him run pretty far. I’ve got it available. He is very proud of me and supportive of me not drinking but he also won’t like break up with me if I decide to start up again. I just… don’t want to. It’s better for me. I’m happier without… rocket fuel inside my body lmao because I’m a person and not a rocket ykwim?

This was very rambling but this topic makes me like that. My feeling is if you’re thinking about when you can and can’t drink, your relationship with alcohol isn’t healthy. Again to go back to my edibles thing, which I would have again quite easily, I’ve never in my life had more edibles than I intended to (I’ve had a max of two when my goal was to get fuck stoned and that’s what I did) and I also can’t tell you when I last had one or when I next will (I’ve got a bag of them in my desk but it’s sealed and it doesn’t tempt me). With alcohol I absolutely was counting sober days versus drinking days and how many drinks I had on a drinking day and whether or not a few glasses of wine “even counted” yk? And it was occupying a lot of time and space in my head, even when I wasn’t drinking. So that wasn’t like… healthy. Just removing it has given me a lot of energy and genuine desire to do a lot more hobbies that I like to do.

I also find I do a lot more chores lmao like I’ve always done my chores because I’m not a complete cunt but I often procrastinated with them and I get a lot of the regular ones I do done quicker and more frequently (like cleaning the kitchen), I do a lot more annoying ones more regularly (like taking stuff to the dry cleaners’ which I hated to do because I never drunk drove and like having out and about chores meant I can’t drink and if I did drink then I couldn’t take my stuff in lol so also getting my car washed was one of those too and also like washing my couches which I was doing maybe every two to three months but do every month since I quit drinking and that’s not about driving but it’s about not being able to sit on the couch when I undress it to wash it because obviously I sat on the couch drinking lol) and am more proactive with my DIY projects.

and in terms of what I’ve replaced it in terms of drinks, I’ve been making a lot of mixed drinks (so diet tonic, soda water, with a splash of cranberry juice and a splash of lime has been my favorite but I make other ones too), I drink Corona Zeros if we have people round, I’ve been making a lot more tea and coffee, and I’ve been drinking Diet Red Bull if I want “a buzz” lol. Also just sparkling water. And flavored sparkling water. Idk it’s been really easy once I decided on it and it keeps getting easier tbh not harder - like the first weekend I’d quit, we were sitting waiting for a takeaway and they didn’t have any AF beers on the menu and they advertised lassis but were out of them and I just didn’t order anything and felt a bit annoyed with my bf drinking his beer but that hasn’t happened again and idk I’ve been out and about and I’ve entertained at home and like I say it’s not that I don’t have it in the house or that I can’t say “cool look I did it for over 2 months so now I’m done like clearly I can stop whenever I want and now I want to start again” but I really just… don’t want to start again at this point.

Hope this helped a bit and just so you know your “boozestory” (as Ruby Warrington of Sober Curious calls it) is completely normal.

[recurring-polynya]

Do I mind if I ask how you approach writing longer fic? I've always struggled to write anything more than maybe two chapters long and I'm curious if you have a particular method to how you approach such stories.

Thank you so much for this ask! I absolutely love it when people ask me for writing advice because it makes me feel like a Smart Person Who Knows Things.

Before we start, here is one grain of salt to take all of this with: I have a naturally long-form brain. It is very hard for me to write something less than 1k. Short fiction is great, and there is nothing wrong with sticking to short things if that's what your brain likes to do.

So. You have decided to write a story. This is going to focus on "stories". Some people write fic that's more freeform or whatever, I am not going to cover that. What I mean by a story is this:

It starts

Some stuff happens

It ends

It is highly probable that your story contains a change of state, which could be that a villain is defeated, or a goal is reached, but it could also be that character falls in love with another, or someone learns to like broccoli.

I like to start out by completing the sentence, "This is a story where _______". This is basically like coming up with a summary for an ao3 post, except that it doesn't need to be catchy. Lots of different kinds of things could go in that blank! It could literally be what happens: This is a story where Ichigo goes back in time and punches young Aizen in the nose. It could be about what you want to explore: This is a story where Hitsugaya gets a better understanding of his zanpakutou. It could be about the vibe you want to achieve: This is an AU where everyone is in a punk rock band and has cool hair and outfits. The idea of this is to clearly define what you, the author, is interested in writing. Make sure it feels right! Maybe you pick the first one, but when you say it out loud, you say, "You know, I really just want Ichigo to go back in time so he can horse around with young Renji and Rukia and punching Aizen in the nose is just an excuse for that." That may sound dumb, but it's fine, actually! Most people don't read stories strictly for the plot, they read stories for the implications of those plots! Will my favorite two characters kiss? Will there be funny interactions between these two groups of characters? Will there be sick fights? Stories are excuses to have scenes. Sometimes, you will have a story where the interesting sequence of events is the draw, but the point is to know what you're about.

Once you feel happy with your "mission statement", you need to decide the bounds of your story: where it starts and where it ends. It may be easier to start with the end. In some cases, it may be obvious from your mission statement: everyone gets home, a villain is defeated, Kenpachi realizes the meaning of friendship. On the other hand, let's look at that punk rock AU. You've picked a vibe, but you don't really have a natural story arc. It has to have a destination, though, otherwise, it's not really a story, it's a recipe for 3 chapters of an abandoned fanfic. So brainstorm a little: Maybe they get a record deal? Maybe they win a Battle of the Bands? Maybe Byakuya accepts that the band is actually good and tells Rukia he is proud of her. Do not settle for a plot just because it works. Pick something that makes you excited! You're the one who is gonna have to write it!

I said that we needed to pick a beginning point, too, but I'm actually going to skip that for now. The next thing I do is think of all the Big Scenes I want to write, the ones you are hype to write, the ones that pop in your head as you think about the premise. Make a bullet list. They don't need to be in order. The descriptions don't need to be super detailed, but write down anything about it that is important to you. If there's a mood or a snippet of dialogue or a joke you want to make, go ahead and jot that down so you don't forget it later. What you're doing now is putting broad blotches of color on a canvas, filling in space and leaving the detail for later.

Once you are pretty happy with what you have down, try to arrange it in chronological order. Put your end at the end (if it wasn't one of your big scenes, add it now). The next task is figuring out how to traverse your scenes. You've already picked out where you want to spend the majority of your energy. The rest, I regret to tell you, is your slog writing. Now, it often happens that you will find joy in some of these scenes and your best writing may occur there, but that's serendipity. These are the scenes that you are gonna have to make yourself sit down and write, so you honestly want to limit them to just the ones you need.

So how do we do this? Look at the first thing on the list. Can you start there? If so, congrats, that's your beginning. If you can't, what needs to happen to get to there? Where can you start so that you can get to your first fun scene as soon as possible? There. That’s it. You’ve picked your beginning, good job! Now, go through the rest of your list, and add in things that must happen, even if you don’t particularly look forward to writing them. The characters need to travel from geographic point A to point B. Shuuhei needs to say something that Izuru hears and misinterprets. The Central 46 makes a new law. If you have a good idea of how these things happen, go ahead and write them down, but it’s okay if you don’t know yet. Fill in all the blanks so that if you think of each bullet list as a scene, you could read it as a story, start to end. Once you get writing, you might add more scenes, or move things around or whatever, but you should have a thing that functions as a story.

If you struggle with this, an alternative is a story with a very strong structure that is going to guide you though what you have to write.Here are two examples from my own stories Hold On, Hold On (which is only one chapter, but the principle is the same) is structured around the 5 stages of grief. Not Broken, Just Bent takes place over roughly a week, and I just decided what happened every day of the week. See You on the Other Side takes place in the middle of a bunch of canon events, which worked at mile markers.

Congratulations. You’ve just made a rough outline!

Special note for avoiding burnout!: I am a slogger. I will drag myself through the broken glass of an interminable plot to get to a single thirsty scene. That's why, at this stage, I try to look at the ratio of what I want to write to what I must write. It's gonna vary for everyone, but this is a hobby, and if looking at this proto-outline makes you feel deeply tired, maybe this isn't a good story to be devoting your time to! Can you carve it down? Can you chuck two scenes you really want to write and get rid of 80% of the slog? Or maybe you can't! In that case, just write that thirsty scene as a standalone drabble! Or just go work on something else! Maybe in the future, this one will come back to you and you’ll have a fresh idea or a renewed enthusiasm for it.

Another thing I sometimes like to do at this point is to write out some notes about my characters and their motivations and moods. Character A is homesick. Character B is so determined to defeat the enemy that they are having a hard time being sympathetic to Character A. Character C cares for both A and B and is trying to support them both. This is sort of background info that you want to keep in your head as you are writing. Depending on the type of story you are writing, this might actually be the main plot, or it might be happening subtly, but adding to the emotional impact of the story. It’s very easy for me to write these sorts of emotional arcs, but if you struggle with that, you may wish to go ahead and made a more detailed outline for that, too.

Now, it’s time to start writing! I am great at beginnings-- it is very often the case for me that the opening scene was one of my Big Tentpole Scenes. (Before you hate me too much, I make up for this by being double horrible at endings; just let me have this) Usually, I will start at the beginning and write linearly for as long as I can until I get stuck. Then, I will look forward on my outline and do the next chronological scene that I feel like writing. In general, if I sit down to write and there is something I have an urge to write, that trumps everything else. Inspiration is a precious commodity, and you should embrace it when it hits! You can slog any day. I will occasionally hold off writing a scene that I really want to, because I am saving it, like a prize for myself for getting that far. This is a very personal process of figuring out what motivates your brain and then giving your brain what it needs to be its most productive.

Eventually, you will run out of things you are excited to write, but the good news is, you’ve got a bunch of story now! Odds are that what’s left is going to be a lot of those connective tissue scenes, and you’re just going to have to do them, except that now, because you’re connecting two concrete points instead of two abstract points, it will be a lot easier. You can continue running jokes you’ve started. Maybe you invented a cafe in an earlier scene where your characters hang out and you can have them return there. Try to think of ways to make these scenes more fun, both for yourself to write and for your reader to read. 

Around this time, I like to start refining that rough strokes outline into what I will call an “as-built” outline. (This is an engineering term where you update your plans or models for something to reflect any changes that had to be made along the way). This is a great activity to do at times when you feel like you have writers block. I write down every scene I have written as a 2-3 word blurb, in order. I break the scenes into what I think makes logical chapters, and I will do a word count on those prospective chapters and write it down. As you do this, you will realize that maybe you can move a scene from here to there, which will make it 1000% easier to write. Things may be happening too much, or you’ve got the characters eating three times in the same chapter. If you have subplots and dangling threads, this is where you make sure they get closure. I know this sounds very headache-y, but you are so far along in the story at this point that it’s really not-- it’s a way to look at the problems you have left. Use some sort of formatting (I like to bold things I haven’t done and sometimes I put them in red) and it gives you a very visual to-do list.

You specifically mentioned multi-chapter fanfics and I admit that I don’t tend to think in chapters, I tend to think of the story as a whole and just break it up where it feels natural. The as-built outlining I described is very helpful in making sure that my chapters feel balanced. They don’t necessarily need to be the same length, but I like them to have the same amount of stuff in them. One chapter may basically contain one long scene, and other may contain many short ones. I don’t tend to, but you can certainly have a fanfic that varies between short and long chapters, that can actually be an interesting effect. But like I said, I always like to know what I am doing, and so having it mapped out, you can say “welp, this is what I’ve done, how do I feel about that?”

Polynya, you may be saying at this point, do you write the whole fanfic before you post any of it? and I regret to inform you, the answer is yes. A lot of people write as they go, and I have made one attempt at this and I didn’t like it. I don’t like locking myself in, I just need to be able write out of order and go back and change things. Here is the story of a little in love: someone gave me an AU prompt and I got mildly obsessed with it, and wrote 5 snapshots drabbles in that universe, ending with a slight cliffhanger ending. I probably should have stopped there, but I decided to keep going. I wrote out an outline of 5 acts where the first act was detailed to the degree of each chapter being specified. The chapters here were much smaller than I usually make chapters: 1-2k. I wrote act i and ii and it was actually great, and then I hit act iii which required a lot of set up for misunderstandings and a mini romance arc. I couldn’t wing it, but nor could I figure it all out with outlining. I write dialogue in almost sort of an improv “Yes, and...?” style, so until I do it, I don’t know what’s going to happen. So, what I did was treat the second half of act iii as a complete story in the process I describe above, wrote the entire rest of it, and then posted it. One might notice that the chapter lengths grew to 3-5k each. I have two more acts to go, and I haven’t decided how I am going to do them yet, but I suspect I will treat each of them as their own mini-stories.

(I will admit that in Heart is a Muscle, I tend toward chapters that are about 10k long, and this is honestly too long, someone should smack me. If you like punchy chapters, 1-2k is good. I think 3-6k is probably an ideal chapter length. Is this how long the chapters are in my latest fanfic? Absolutely not.)

Okay, so there’s one more step, which is quality control. I am habitual re-reader-- I read my fanfics-in-progress over and over and over while I am working on them. I understand that not everyone does this, but I am usually the primary audience for my own writing, and this is the actual fun part for me. Nevertheless, you should re-read your work at least once, to make sure it hangs together.

This is purely optional, but I recommend it: get a writing friend (if you don’t like re-reading your work, I recommend this even more strongly). If you can get a full-service beta reader, that’s great, but if you can’t find someone, or if receiving that level of critique stresses you out, it’s perfectly valid to just find a friend who will read your stuff and a) shower you with compliments, b) reassure you about parts you aren’t sure about (or suggest ways to help) and c) point out any huge problems you missed. When I am writing a long fanfic, it is a huge motivational factor for me to be able to send my beta chapters as I finish them. If you are already an established writer, and you have people who consistently comment on your fic, they might be overjoyed to get a sneak peak at your work.

And that’s it! That’s the way I do it, anyway! Some people are able to sit down and write a very detailed outline and the write it start-to-finish. Good for them, I say! I have tried this and it doesn’t work great for me. I will admit that some of my fics (especially my early ones) I just sat down and banged out whole-cloth like an insane person and they are generally better than the ones I actually plan out, but that’s not a reproducible process.

As one final mechanical note, I usually write in Google Docs, which I can access on multiple devices (I used to write a lot on my phone), has convenient sharing functionality, and I use the ao3 html formatting script add-in. I generally have two documents for a single story-- one is the outline, and any other notes I want to have handy. I’ll usually put a trashcan space at the bottom for scenes that got cut but I don’t want to lose. The other is the fanfic itself.

I hope this is helpful! Please feel free to follow up with other questions and good luck with your writing!

[ca-8]

Yakko x Reader Scenario: When You First Meet

'This is it. The beginning of the end.' 

Gripping on the straps of her backpack, (Y/n) exited the bus and stared up at the water tower that displayed the famous Warner Bros. logo. As expected, it emitted a smug aura onto the entire area; however, surprisingly, there was a slight twinge of mystery to it as well. But she didn't have time to ponder about it, so she only gave it an uneasy look and headed straight for the entrance.

Her heart stopped. She knew the place was going to be busy, but it was like an entire New York City packed in one section! So many writers, producers, actors, large men carrying heavy sets, every type of person working in film was scattered all over the place. It was like an ocean, with the people as marine life doing what they're designed to do, and (Y/n) being the puppy that was abandoned at sea.

The moment it all settled in, an involuntary realization invaded her thoughts. 'I don't belong here.'

The young girl reminded herself to breathe and rushed over to a vacant wall, then pulled out her phone. She had already sent her mother about a thousand messages telling her she was here, but since she hasn't responded, a few more shouldn't hurt. Fingers rapidly typing away, she bit her lower lip, already wishing she had stayed on that bus. 

"Oh, you're just gonna love it!" Her mother's squealing voice had already filled her skull. "You're so talented, I know you're gonna fit right in."

'Yeah, standing around all day with a bunch of people I don't know while doing something I suck at is exactly how I wanna spend my summer.' She let out a soft sigh. 'It's fine. Just shut up and make her happy, (Y/n).'

Several attempts of calling and texting later, no response. (Y/n) sighed again, and her eyes wandered over to the bustling crowd. 'No way. Absolutely no way.' But if she wanted to get the day over with, absolutely yes way.

First, she walked up to a lady looking down at the clipboard in her hands. "Um, excuse me," (Y/n) said. 

The lady's head snatched up. "KYLE!" she yelled, her eyes now ablaze with fury, "YOU IDIOT! THAT GOES IN THE WAREHOUSE ACROSS THE STUDIO!" And like there was nothing but a breeze behind her, the lady stomped off to the poor soul that had to face her wrath.

The breeze took a step back and ran around the corner. 'Maybe I'll find someone else instead…!' (Y/n) stopped and spotted a man sitting on the steps that lead to the entrance of a small building. She swallowed whatever was left in her mouth and reluctantly approached him. 

"E-Excuse me, sir?" she stuttered, hoping her voice was louder than the last time. As she got closer, (Y/n) noticed he was chuckling, and his gaze was glued onto a small piece of paper. 

"I...I did it…!" he said. She yelped and shrinked back when he suddenly jumped to his feet. "I FINALLY DID IT! WE'LL SEE WHO'S REGRETTING THE DIVORCE NOW, MARGARET!" And with a manic laugh, the man dashed into the building. 

'...Or maybe I'll just find it myself.'

It wasn't too long before (Y/n) got herself lost. Despite the help of maps that were stuck to some of the buildings, all of them seemed exactly the same. It was like a maze, and with each passing minute, she was more and more convinced that there was no finish line. Even worse, her mother was too busy to respond to anything she sent her. 

'Oh, what should I do?' (Y/n) thought for the thousandth time. No matter how hard she pinched or held them, her arms refused to stop trembling. Not too long ago, the outside of the studio became deserted and she'd hate to walk in a warehouse and possibly interrupt something important, so asking for help again was out of the question.

...Or, perhaps it wasn't. 

A tiny, hopeful smile crossed (Y/n)'s face when she heard the sounds of frustrated grunts around the corner. It was the first time she was so relieved to see a stranger. 

And thank god that stranger was a security guard. Though she wondered why he had a giant net in his hand, she shoved the curiosity as far in the back of her mind as she could and reached up to gently tap his shoulder. 

"Um, excuse me sir?" she asked as loud as she could. 

His head whipped around, revealing angry eyes and a scowl that said he was ready to kill. But right as his gaze landed on her, it changed within an instant. 

"Oh, hello!" he said with a bright smile. 

(Y/n) blinked, cocking her head. ‘What was this guy up to?’

"I'm sorry to bother you, but do you know where (M/n) (L/n) is filming? I'm her daughter, (Y/n), and I'm trying to look for her. She's not answering her phone either."

His joyful expression slowly melted into a confused one. "Uuhhh…(M/n) (L/n)?”

“Yes. She’s a part of Animal Kingdom? Do you know where that’s being filmed?”

“Oh! I know there’s a zoo around here called Animal Kingdom! I don’t think you’ll find it in a film studio, though.”

(Y/n) frowned. “...No, I mean the show. Aren’t they filming in a warehouse today? Do you know where that is?”

“Who’s ‘they’?”

Her eye twitched, and she was just about ready to drown the entire studio in the nearest ocean. “N-Nevermind, I’ll just-”

As if the universe wasn’t satisfied with tormenting her enough, the security guard suddenly launched up into the air and flew into the sky. Right before her eyes, the heavens were coated with explosives of every color that ever existed. 

“Oh my god!” (Y/n) yelled. ‘Who strapped fireworks on that guy?!’

“Oh, I knew you’d love it!”

Her eyes were ripped from the loud fireworks show as she was immediately smothered in a hug. “It’s so nice that another girl’s here! All the other ones here are either too busy or just keep shouting about a restraining order for some reason. I dunno, but anyway, I just know you're gonna love it here! Anyway, my name’s Princess Angelina Louisa Cantessa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca the third! But since we're friends now, you can just call me Dot.”

This confirmed it. This was a trap set up by her mother to deliberately drive her insane, because how else can someone explain the nut jobs and talking dogs in pink dresses? 

A combination of those two things happened to be clutching her head and digging her face into hers. “...Huh?” (Y/n) mumbled.

‘Dot’ jumped off of her and smiled widely. “Sorry about Ralph by the way. I figured out you were coming at the last second and I really needed someone for your welcoming gift.” she said.

(Y/n) glanced up at the sky where the fireworks were slowly dying down. “Um...Is he gonna be okay?” she asked.  

“Of course he will!” her backpack said.

The teen screamed and threw her bag on the ground. A hand popped out and unzipped it with impossible ease, then a taller boy version of Dot jumped out, pulling up his long brown pants and flashing a grin. 

“H-...H-H-How did you…?!” (Y/n) stuttered, pointing at him. 

“What? Never heard of cartoon logic?” he said, approaching her. “And Ralph’ll be fine. His skull’s so thick, concrete’s the last thing that can kill him.”

“What-?”

“Anyhow,” he walked over to Dot and put an arm over her shoulder, “The name’s Yakko, this here’s my beloved baby sister Dot, and this is-” He stopped, staring at the empty space to his left. He leaned into Dot, whispering, “Say, uh, you don't mind looking for Wakko, do ya sis?”

Dot glanced at (Y/n) for an uncomfortable moment and suddenly shot her brother a glare. "I've got eyes all over this studio, Yakko," she warned, slowly stepping away.

Now (Y/n) certainly knew she didn't see pairs of eyes appear around every inch of her sight. 'Oh god, I didn't breath in drugs on the way here, did I? Actually, that would explain whatever the heck's going on.'

Yakko smiled as he watched his sister leave and turned to (Y/n). He walked closer to her, and she realized that his half-lidded eyes had a strange glint in them. “Sooo, your name’s (Y/n), right? A pretty name for a pretty girl.”

(Y/n)’s face heated up. ‘First I get lost, then see a guy get blown up, and now some other guy’s flirting with me? ...To be honest, this is still better than what Mom had planned for today.’

“So what brings ya’ here?” he asked.

“O-Oh, well, my Mom was supposed to give me a tour of the studio, but I’ve been giving that to myself all day. I tried finding her, but I’m pretty sure I’m nowhere near it by now.” Her eyes wandered over to the ground, but a realization made them perk back up and over to Yakko. “Hey, do you happen to know this place by any chance?”

“Know it? Please, my sibs and I live here, we know this place by heart and soul!” He mumbled something else, along the lines of “Basically made our hearts and souls”. 

Her heart jumped; finally, a piece of good news. “Really?” she said, a smile spreading across her face.

He nodded. “So where do ya’ need to go?” Before she could answer, he pulled out a piece of folded paper and moved in so close, their shoulders were smooshed together. Yakko unfolded it, and it turned out to be the biggest map (Y/n) has ever seen. “Well, from here, you’re gonna need to take a right and continue straight until you get to the Harry Potter and Fantastic Beasts exhibit. But be careful, I heard some of them escaped, and if anyone asks if you’ve seen any of them, don’t tell them I gave one to Dot as a late birthday gift. Anyway, you take a left from there, then a right where you’ll see the lot where they used to shoot Game of Thrones. Now this is only a rumour I’ve heard, but I think some of the producers are still on that set. If you happen to see them, do not, I repeat, DO NOT mention season eight, or maybe just don’t mention the show at all. Actually, don’t even look at them. As a matter of fact, you probably shouldn’t even go there at all, just keep heading straight until you get to the D.C. Universe lot. Then you just take left there, then a sharp right over over, then you keep going straight until you get to here, turn up over there, turn right there, and then you’re there. Did ya’ follow all that?”

(Y/n) stared at his face, which was practically radiating with enthusiasm, and she felt her eye twitch again. “...No,” she said, shaking her head.

His smile dimmed, but it became just as bright as the sun again a split-second later. “Ah well, maps are gettin' old anyways,” he said, throwing the map over his shoulder. “WAKKO!!”

And, low and behold, another anthropomorphic dog popped out of nowhere, and (Y/n) was starting to question if there was an army of them hidden somewhere. But she had to admit, it was pretty cute how this one was dressed in an oversized blue sweater and red hat. 

“Tablet, please,” Yakko said politely, holding out his hand. 

‘You're not gonna walk me there-?'

Wakko suddenly held his head back with his cheeks puffed out, then leaned into Yakko’s hand as he forced out a small object from his mouth. After an incredibly uneasy moment, a tablet glazed in spit was in Yakko's grasp. While he praised the little guy, (Y/n) forced back the urge to vomit.

“E-Ehhhh…?” She couldn’t say anything else while her gaze frantically went back and forth from Wakko and the regurgitated tablet. 

“Oh! Where are my manners?” Yakko said. “(Y/n), this is my dear little brother, Wakko. Wakko, this here’s our new special friend, (Y/n).” 

“Hello!” Wakko greeted, who was suddenly in her arms. “You’re really pretty!”

“Ehh? Thank you? I guess??” she said apprehensively, and finally managed to make eye contact. Despite his...quirks, he's actually a little adorable... She let herself grin a little.

The moment of semi-peace was ruined when she took notice of Yakko’s narrowed eyes. “ALrighty, (Y/n)!” he said loudly, grabbing his little brother by the collar and gently setting him on the ground. “Animal Kingdom, right? Let’s get ya’ right over there.” He moved right beside her and taped the screen a couple times. 

“Um, what’re you doing exactly?” she asked.

“Doing what every person does to get somewhere nowadays.” He grabbed her waist and pulled her against him, and (Y/n) flinched from his touch. “Please keep your arms, legs, and personal items inside the tablet at all times.”

Just when she was about to question him for the hundredth time, he pressed the screen again, and her vision became nothing but white. Her body felt like it was launched into a tornado; a strong force of wind thrusted her back, and somehow, the boy’s arm kept her from flying off from his side. A second later, her feet were back on the ground, the sky was where it needed to be, and reality was back in place. 

Except for (Y/n)’s mentality. 

She stumbled around, trying to find her balance as the world unbearably whirled around her. Finally, she shook her head, and quickly turned back towards Yakko, whose face tried to tell her whatever happened was perfectly fine and normal. 

“What was THAT?” she yelled, staggering towards him and gripping his shoulders.

And he still had the audacity to have that 'why-are-you-freaking-out-so-much-we-do-this-every-Friday' smile. “Thank you for attending Warner’s Travel Tours! I would say my Agent Ralph’ll take your bags, but I left him alone with my sibs, so he’s probably in the middle of the Pacific Ocean by now.”

(Y/n) could only stare at him. Her mind was twisting and turning, trying so hard to make any sense of what happened but only making her headache grow larger and larger. And then, her thoughts just went blank.

She smirked. Then giggled. And a few seconds later, she had burst out laughing whilst holding her stomach. (Y/n) looked back up at Yakko, wiping a tear from her eye. “Th-Thank you…” she said, catching her breath. 

His smile had grown and she thought his white cheeks were red for a moment. Yakko had opened his mouth, but whatever he was about to say was cut off by a net suddenly covering his entire body. Ralph was behind him, his skin and clothes burnt and ears practically smoking. “You’re coming with me, Warner!” he said.

And yet, Yakko only grinned. Like physics was his enemy, he disappeared from inside the net and appeared sprouting from the security guard’s back, cheerfully waving at (Y/n). “I’ll see ya’ around, yeah?” he said, then ran around the corner with Ralph sprinting right after him.

(Y/n) giggled and reached for the straps around her back. But when she only felt the (f/c) fabric of her shirt, her smile dropped, and a deep sigh escaped her lips. “Great…” she whispered.

“(Y/N)!” 

She gasped as a pair of arms squeezed the life out of her. Her mother spun her around to face her gleaming smile, which was immediately replaced by an apologetic frown. “I’m so sorry I didn’t get your texts! That scene took forever, but I’m glad you found your way here! You’re so smart! Anyway, I know we don’t get as much time now, but there’s still so much we’ll be able to see!...”

She rambled on and on and on and on. Her daughter’s shoulders slumped and she followed her to where she wanted her to go, but the frown on her face didn’t last long when she remembered the fun she had just a few seconds ago. ‘Maybe this summer won’t be that bad.’

[myriadxofxmuses]

[txt Vinny] Fine.  I'll eat your food.

[txt Vinny] But I ain't making friendly conversation with that dickhead.

[txt OscarGrouch] You are such a fucking baby.

[txt OscarGrouch] But at least I know you'll eat. 😃🍽

[txt Caveman] Engagement ring?

[txt Caveman] You sure I was supposed to see that text?

[tx Caveman] NO!!!!

[txt caveman] DO NOT HAVE TIG DIG HIM UP!!!!

[txt Caveman] The painting is enough.  Really.

[txt Caveman] Besides, if you really are looking for an engagement ring for me, do you really want it to be used?

*Oscar nods at Alice as she walks by.*

[txt Strawberry Shortcake] THEY WERE JUST EMOJIS

[txt Strawberry Shortcake] Not literal gifts I got you.

[txt Strawberry Shortcake] Come on. You know I know you better than that. Seriously Clare?

*He pulls up message with song.*

[txt Strawberry Shortcake]  You're not a bitch, but does this mean you're talking to me now?

*He glances up at the window.*

[txt Caveman] Careful.  He's still my brother, you know.

[txt Caveman] And if you plan on popping the question, he'll be yours too.

[txt Caveman] I mean you two already act like brothers.

[txt Caveman] Ones that don't get along too well, but brother nonetheless.  It wouldn't be too far of a stretch for him to actually become one.

[txt Strawberry Shortcake] Call me what you want as long as I can come in.

[txt Strawberry Shortcake] The concrete is killing my knees. Ngl.

*Sees text about trip*

[txt Strawberry Shortcake] DO NOT GIVE THEM TO EM & JACE.

[txt Strawberry Shortcake] Please

[txt Strawberry Shortcake] I got the time off. Which was a pain in the ass to do btw. And I want to spend it with you. We can still have our 10 months together fun.

[txt Strawberry Shortcake] Please Clare. Just let me in.

[txt Vinny] Would it be super shitty of me to rub it in asshole's face that Clare and I are gonna go to Spain together? For a whole week. 🕺💃🇪🇸

[txt Vinny] That was rhetorical.

[txt Vinny] I'm telling him.

[txt Vinny] Maybe right after I drop the bomb on him about moving in with Clare.

[txt Vinny] What'd you think? Two birds with one stong tonight over dinner?

[txt Vinny] Again. Retorical. 🤣

*missed call from Emily to Clare*

[txt Clare] Everything ok?

[txt Clare] You hung up

[txt Clare] Heard about Spain btw.

[txt Clare] Celebrating moving in with Oscar? 🤞😃

[txt Clare] He couldn't help but let it all spill. He gets so excited when he talks about you.

[txt Clare] OH GOD!  Please don't tell him I told you that. 😬🤐🙏

[txt Prick] You don't know shit about how I treat Clare because you HAVEN'T KNOWN ABOUT US!

[txt Prick] Hate to break it to you buddy, but I've been treating her good for the last 10 months.

[txt Prick] Let that sink in for a minute.

[txt Prick] I can fill you in on the rest tonight. I'm still coming over for Emily's cooking.

[txt Prick] You being there I could do without, but even you can't ruin her food.

[txt Strawberry Shortcake] Hacked?

[txt Strawberry Shortcake] Those messages were pretty specific to us....🤔🤔

[txt Strawberry Shortcake] You sure it wasn't you?

*sees other messages. hops up and rushes in as he texts*

[txt Strawberry Shortcake] Don't answer that. I was only kidding.

[txt Strawberry Shortcake] Yes, yes, yes. To all of it.  I'll explain when I see you. 😘😘😘

[txt Vinny] I think Clare's gonna say yes to moving in!

[txt Vinny] Give George a big kiss because it was all his fault. Tell you more later.

[txt Vinny] 😀😀🏡🎉💑

[txt Prick] *screenshot of Clare agreeing to move in with Oscar*

[txt Prick] SUCK ON THAT!

*deletes messages without sending them*

[txt Strawberry Shortcake] Fine I won't tell him.

[txt Strawberry Shortcake] Tonight.

[txt Strawbery Shortcake] But I won't guarantee anything for tomorrow.

[txt Strawberry Shortcake] Also, who was that shouting out of the window?

*finally makes it up to her apartment.*

*missed call from Emily to Clare. missed call from Emily to Oscar*

[txt Clare, OscarGrouch] ??

[txt Clare, OscarGrouch] Do I even want to know why the two of you are now ignoring my calls?

[txt Clare, OscarGrouch] Nevermind. I KNOW I don't want to know.

[txt Clare, OscarGrouch] I'll see you two lovebirds tonight.

[txt Clare, OscarGrouch] 😘❤🏠

@claredeadbydaylight

@claredeadbydaylight (because when I saw this I couldn’t help myself)

[txt Clare] I know Jace probably isn’t a reader like you, but I think I found a place he could get into.

[txt Clare]

[txt Clare] 🤣🤣🤣🤣

[name-me-regret]

White Roses For My Sister - Chapter Two

White Roses For My Sister Chapter Two: All The Bad Things

Summary: Peter Parker is pretty sure he’s cursed...

Author’s Note: I know that in the earlier chapter, Billie is born earlier than the comics, and Morgan is also born earlier than in MCU canon, but I changed this for the purpose of this story. Also, the timeline is distorted in this chapter, some things that happened in canon were moved up.Also, I think I got ahead of myself when I said twelve chapters. It might be less, but if anyone reads these (lol) I’ll let y’all know here if the estimated twelve chapters changes. For now, let me know what you think.

Read it on AO3.

- - - -   "Bad things happen to the people you love And you'll find yourself paying the diamond above But honestly I've never had much sympathy 'Cause those bad things always saw them coming for me

 It would take some time just to see me shine For the whole world to see me here with all of my light But honestly I've given up on all those fights So that one day I'll have you all wrapped up in my light

 I'm gonna run, run away, run, run away, run away Runaway and never come back..."

~Bad Things - Cults   - - - -

Peter could hear them crying, his aunt and uncle, and his uncle never cried. It must have been a very sad thing if even Uncle Ben was crying. The four year old didn’t know what could have happened, since before they’d been having a good time.

He wasn’t a good at sports, and his asthma didn’t let him run around too much, but today he had played catch with his uncle. His dad use to play with him, but he had been too busy lately. Peter wasn’t mad at him, because he knew they had important jobs. So, Peter had to be good and not give them any trouble. He wouldn’t complain or cry when they couldn’t play with him, and one day maybe they would see how good he was being and they’d spend more time with him.

That had been the plan his four year old mind had come up with, and didn’t know that the day would never come.

- - - -

Peter wasn’t supposed to tell anyone. He had told the eight year old not to, that it would be their little secret. It was just that... he wanted to tell his aunt and uncle.

He didn’t like what Skip was doing, not one bit. Peter had said he didn’t want to play that game with him, didn’t want to see those adult magazines he’d forced him to look at. In fact, Peter hated it.

Skip said that everyone did it, and it was supposed to feel good. The older teenager had told him not to tell, made him swear he wouldn’t say anything.

Peter didn’t like to lie, but he had done it for a good reason. At least, that’s what he told himself as he went to his aunt and uncle.

- - - -

Peter Parker sat in the chair in the police station, flecks of blood still on his face. He felt numb as he stared down at the concrete floor, his eyes burning from having cried for so long. The ten year old was sure he had never cried as much as he had that day, not even when they had told him his dad and mom weren’t coming back, ever.

The only family he had left was gone, and Peter wondered if he was cursed. Perhaps he had been born under a bad star, or someone had placed a curse on him. Because the boy could find no other explanation as to why he kept losing the people he loved.

“Peter?”

The aforementioned child lifted his face to look at the police officer. He knew his uncle, but at the moment Peter couldn’t remember the man’s name. At the moment, he pushed it aside and looked at the woman that had walked up with him. She had semi-business attire, a cheap suit from Jcpenny that looked to have seen better days, some flats that didn’t match the dress and hair that had been haphazardly put in a sloppy bun at the back of her head.

“Hi, Peter, I’m Margaret Reed, I work with CPS. You’re going to come with me until we can either find a relative you can stay with, or a foster parent becomes available. Until then, you’ll be staying at a home for boys.”

She smiled reassuringly at him, but Peter could see the bags under her eyes that gave her a haggard appearance. Peter wondered if he was ever going to leave that home, or if he’d disappear in the system like so many others.

Even so, he stood up and followed her, leaving behind his old life, which had once been a happy trio. Now, Peter was the only one left.

- - - -

Ned glanced at his friend, worried about how quiet he had been since his uncle and aunt’s death. He’d tried to invite him to his house to build his new AT-AP Walker, but he had just silently shaken his head. Even Flash’s usual taunts had had no effect on him, even if the bully had toned down after the death of his aunt and uncle.

He wasn’t going to give up though, because that’s what best friends did. Besides, he was Ned’s only friend and Ned was Peter’s only friend. They had to stick together. After school he’d insist they hang out, build the Walker and have fun. Ned would save his friend, at all costs.

 The sound of gunfire was heard through the halls of the middle school. Their teacher, Ms. Gonzales’s head lifted sharply, her eyes narrowing behind her glasses. All of the students had gasped at the sharp sound, tensing in their seats. “Everyone... stay here,” she said, moving quickly to the door.

She opened the door, seeing the teachers from other classes doing the same. “What was that?”

Ned and Peter looked at each other, worried as they heard more of those sharp sounds and that was followed by screams. Their teacher slammed the door closed and locked it. “Everyone get to the supply closet, now!” she whisper shouted.

They had a small class that day, since a lot of students were out due to the flu that was going around the school. So, their usual fifteen had been reduced to nine, but even then it would be a tight squeeze.

She ushered them inside, helping Betty as she tripped over her desk and carried her the rest of the way. Peter and Ned were the last ones in, since they usually sat at the front of the class. Most of them were crying by then, and Peter could feel Flash at his back, the bully sobbing against his ear and he instinctively grabbed onto Ned as he also gulped in shaky breaths, face wet with his own tears.

Ms. Gonzalez was breathing heavily as she looked them over, standing in the open doorway. “Don’t some out, no matter what,” she told them, a determined look crossing her face as the sound of gunfire started getting closer.

She closed the door, locking it and all of them were plunged into darkness. They flinched as they heard something being dragged across the ground, and then something else as whatever it was was shoved against the door of the supply closet. They realized that it was their desks, one after another pushed up against the door.

The sound of a door slamming open was heard, followed by a woman’s yell and the loud sound of a weapon going off. Peter felt Flash’s hold tighten so hard around his arm he was sure he’d have bruises later.

All of them screamed as the gun went off again, something slamming into the heavy wooden door with a splintering sound. Then the sound of gunfire came again, and Peter heard Ned yelp in pain and he felt something warm splash against his face. All around him everyone was screaming as they listened to the gunfire, and light was coming through the bullet holes in the door.

Then they heard it, the clicking of an empty chamber, and a frustrated shout. Whoever was outside started banging against the doorknob with something, and the children cried as they feared he would get in. Before he could, there were more yells, running footsteps and fighting.

“Cecilia! Oh God! Hold on!” a man’s voice yelled, the shouting getting farther away.

“K...kids... help them,” a voice whimpered, then a gasp.

“Cecilia!”

Peter pressed against the door, Ned slumped down at the floor and Flash trying to push as the other kids cried out for him. They could hear the person outside pushing the desks aside frantically.

They all screamed as the door was wrenched open easily, since the doorknob had been complete destroyed. “It’s alright! You’re safe!”

It was their history teacher, Mr. Lloyd.

“Sir, Ned,” Peter sobbed, unaware of the blood on his face as he crouched over his fallen friend. Ned’s shoulder was bleeding, and the man removed his cardigan and pressed it against the wound. “Is h-he gonna die?” the eleven year old whimpered, his brown eyes pleading with the adult to tell him otherwise.

“No, he’s going to be fine,” the man reassured. He could tell that the bullet had gone cleanly through his shoulder. It was a miracle it hadn’t hit anyone else as it had exited the plump boy’s body, and it must have imbedded into the wall behind them somewhere. “Is anyone else hurt?”

Betty lifted her hand, also crying like the rest of the others. “I think I hurt my ankle,” she sniffled, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve.

“Alright,” Mr. Lloyd sighed, sounding shaken despite his calm demeanor. “We’re going to get out here... I need everyone to hold hands with the person closest to them. Then I need you all to close your eyes.” He didn’t want them to see Cecilia’s body, not wanting to traumatize them anymore than they had already been.

Mr. Lloyd had tied the cardigan as best as he could around Ned’s shoulder, looping it under his armpit. The boy was out cold, most likely from the pain, and it was a small mercy. He lifted him in his arms with a grunt. “Peter, grab onto the back of my shirt, and don’t let go.”

Peter obeyed him, using one hand to grab his shirt and his other was being held by Flash,  neither boy worrying about the fact that they were holding hands. Peter and Flash just wanted to get out of there, the latter wanting to be held by his mother. As for Peter, he was almost glad his aunt and uncle were gone, because if not they would have been terrified right now. He was glad if only to spare them this.

Even if he wished he could also be held by someone that loved him.

As the kids moved out of the supply closet one by one, eyes squinted closed and trusting their teacher to lead them out safely. Only, Peter found his curiosity get the best of him and peeked his eyes open, and immediately regretted it.

Ms. Gonzales lay in the middle of the room, almost where Liz Allan’s desk had been, and her limbs were akimbo. Her eyes were wide open and unseeing, blood dribbling out of her mouth and pooling around her body which had been riddled with several bullet holes.

Peter slammed his eyes closed with a keening noise, but the image was burned into his mind, her unseeing black eyes staring up at the ceiling. “It’s alright,” Mr. Lloyd called, “we’re almost to the hallway. Keep your eyes closed.”

It was too late, Peter had seen her. He had seen her and he would never ever be able to forget her. Her smiling face whenever he got a difficult math problem right was replaced by her face twisted in agony, covered in blood. She was dead, had died trying to save them all, and for no reason that Peter could understand.

 Peter lay in his bed in the boy’s home he’d been staying for the last four months, breathing in shakily. They’d turned off the light almost an hour ago, but he and sleep could not find one another. For when he almost managed to start to doze off, the memory of Ms. Gonzalez’s body would pop to the forefront of his mind and he’d startle awake with a gasp. So, he could only lay in bed and stare up at the ceiling as he tried to remember how to breathe properly.

In and out, making sure they weren’t rushed for fear that he’d have an asthma attack. He hadn’t had one in months, not since his aunt and uncle had been killed, and he hadn’t been in the hospital because of his since he was eight. That had been a difficult time for Peter.

His breath hitched dangerously into asthma territory and he forced himself to stop thinking of anything and just the shaky breaths he was taking; in and out.

As he lay awake most of the night trying to breathe carefully, he decided that it was too dangerous to love anyone else. After all, he had loved Ms. Gonzales, who always had a kind word and smile for him; especially after his aunt and uncle had died. She had helped him understand a tricky math problem and gave him more advanced work when he had asked for it.

Peter had loved Ms. Gonzales, and now she was dead. He loves Ned and he had almost died. His love killed people, and was determined never to love anyone else again.

- - - -

The twelve year old stared at the man and woman in front of him, not quite understanding what was happening. Perhaps he was dreaming, but that seemed unlikely. While he had nightmares and the occasional insomniac night, he tended to get enough to function as a normal human being. So, he knew he was coherent and awake.

That made him try and analyze the man and woman again, the very familiar power couple. There was no way he could comprehend what he’d just been told, and it wasn’t because he was stupid or anything.

Peter went to Midtown Junior High, and his hard work all through junior high had paid off since his place was already reserved in Midtown Tech (the high school one). His grades never dropped from the top five in the whole school, and excelled in his after school activities (he had to drop almost all of them except robotics, mathletes, and decathlon, because MJ hadn’t let him).

He could still go to Midtown when the time came, but would have to get a scholarship to do so. Even then, it would only pay his tuition and not his textbooks. He’d already found a solution for that, since Mr Delmar at times needed help stocking the shelves. Peter would be able to make some money after school to pay for his textbooks, and also put some minutes on his phone.

After the school shooting, Ned’s parents had moved their whole family to Massachusetts. Because apparently, “Mom says there aren’t any school shootings there, and besides, it’s closer to MIT”. Peter knew that had been Ned’s school of choice, since it was his dad’s alma mater. He had only smiled and wished him luck, even if inside he was begging for it not to be true, but one look at his bandaged shoulder silenced him.

So, Peter needed minutes on his phone, since it was the only way to keep in contact with Ned now. He didn’t want to be able to lose touch with his only friend. He had lost everyone else he loved, and he felt like he was barely hanging onto Ned now.

That had been the plan at least, but instead, he was staring at Tony freaking Stark, Pepper Potts, and a little girl that all of America had known from the moment she’d been born, Morgan Stark. She was two years old and sitting next her mother quietly as she looked across the table at Peter, wide brown eyes almost sparkling with excitement.

“Uh, I d-dont... understand,” Peter said, looking at his case worker, Margaret. The woman’s blonde hair was as always pulled up into a sloppy bun with a few strands falling into her face. She had on one of her usual cheap dress clothes, and that had a few wrinkles at the collar.

“Mr. and Mrs. Stark want to adopt you, Peter,” Margaret repeated. “They want you to be their son.”

There was that words again, ‘son’. Peter had already been someone’s son, had been someone’s nephew, but now they were all gone. He couldn’t be some else’s son, or nephew, or anything.

The adults faces changed into something that had to be sorrow. He hadn’t realized he’d said that out loud.

“Oh Peter,” Pepper Potts sighed, dabbing at her eyes. She almost didn’t seem like she ran a Fortune 500 company, but perhaps having a daughter had softened her. It made Peter miss his own mother, his Aunt May’s absence like an ache that clawed at his throat with the need to scream, because life wasn’t fair. Life was a cruel bitch that took and took from you, and nothing and no one could make it better.

“A bruther?” a sweet voice asked.

Peter looked at the little girl, her hair braided like a crown on her head and a flower band on. She was wearing a white dress with llamas (or alpacas?) all over it, as well as cacti. Over that she had a pink vest with tassels all over it (it might have been called a cowboy vest), and brown sandals on her tiny feet. She had one a pink and white necklace with a pink flower in the middle, and a pair of sunglasses hooked to the front of her dress almost like the kinds her father always wore.

He knew this because she’d come around the table and he turned in his seat to be able to see her. She grabbed his hand, much larger than her tiny one. “You my bruther?”

Pepper and Tony had stood as soon as Morgan had slipped clumsily out of her chair. Now they watched the two kids, one twelve and the other two, but both still children. “I’m... nobody’s brother,” Peter whispered.

“Yea, you my bruther, k?” Morgan nodded like it was final.

Peter opened his mouth as he looked into her innocently smiling face, and he found he could say nothing to remove that smile from her face. “Okay,” he gasped, and he hadn’t realized he’d started to cry until her other tiny hand wiped at his face.

“Why you cry? Got an ouchie?”

He nodded as he gripped her small hand as hard as he could without hurting her, afraid to let go. “Yes... I got an ochie,” he sobbed.

Morgan wrapped her little arms around the bigger kid, in an effort to comfort him. “It’s otay. Magona kiss it better, k?” She pressed a kiss on his cheek, making the other cry even harder as he held onto her now. He was sure he was cursed, that everyone he loved died, but he couldn’t help wanting Morgan.

Peter wanted to be her big brother, to have someone he could love again, and that loved him too. He wanted to be selfish, just this once.

Tony and Pepper signed the adoption papers that same day, and Peter became Peter Parker-Stark; became Morgan’s big brother.-