#im halfway through the draft of next chapter and then comes the finalizing part

[bamsara]

obligatory trod snippets from my drafts

and some less-serious placeholders i have in drafts rn

[edith-moonshadow]

Im looking forward to the second chapter of how I got this ring and the third chapter of you how much your mine. they are so good and I like the change in seeing Billys POV. Plus omega steve is great, I can never get enough of it.

I love Omega Steve, the Alpha Beta Omega trope is a favourite of mine in general and I love all the different ways that you can explore it although I’m probably a little guilty of the Steve is an Omega but doesn’t want anyone else to know it, enter Billy who discovers his secret and uses it to his advantage part of that trope.

I’m so glad that you enjoy them, in regards to You Can’t Even See I originally wrote it as a one-shot, someone left me a comment on a different story and later I went back and re-read it and thought it would be a fun story to explore. So originally I wrote it from Billy’s POV but when I was about halfway through I throught Steve’s would be better because I could hint at all the devious things that Billy was doing so I changed to Steve. 

So when people asked for more of it I wasn’t too sure where to go but decided that I’d up the stakes for poor Steve and make everything so much worse. I’m about half way through Billy’s POV, I’m trying to make him evil but not I can’t completley sympathsie this with evil (although he might end up that way anyway) and it’s a lot of fun, I really enjoy a devious Billy with no moral compass, it’s a little freeing. It’s putting me in the mood for more Billy that’s this way, I love him being driven by the need to make Steve his and he won’t let anything stand in his way. 

I also really enjoy Billy’s POV, it’s a lot of fun to get inside his head as the show is so thin on the ground in regards to Billy that you can infer a lot through him. 

How I Got This Ring is a little more complicated, orignally for HWOL I choose pool sex for that day (I think it was the first day) but half way through it wasn’t working out how I’d planned so I changed to Sexual Tension and wrote two thirds of a story about Billy as Steve’s drug dealer who’s always invading his personal space then Steve has his allowance stopped bacause he pisses of his dad but he still needs drugs but will Billy accept a later payment?

So I decided to go on to other prompts and come back because I was getting nowhere and finally I came up with another sexual tension idea and that was the story I posted but it was very late in the day and I had a longer story planned but I had to cut it off because I ran out of time. Now that was back in February and I have the next part written, I actually have a teaser post sitting in my drafts for the story, it’s been there for at least a month but I keep second guessing it, I read over it one day and I’m like yup this just needs a few small changes and it’s ready then I read it another day and I’m like nope this is the worst. 

I am a terrible overthinker unfortunately but I worry that I’ve let too much time go by and I’ve lost the momentum of the story which is a little sad I want to finish it completely but I’ve so many other stories going on and I can’t make up my mind about it. I hope that the worst case scearnio is that a little bit of time from now when I’m not as busy I sit down and finish it, am happy with it and post it. *crosses fingers*

[deco-devolution]

Rough Draft

An abandoned concept for the beginning of chapter two of my BioShock disciple piece, mors tyrannis. Posted for posterity.

He went to Silas first. 

The lanky musician was hunched over the composing desk in his store’s office so closely his forehead was almost touching the wooden surface. When Kyle grabbed Cobb’s shoulder he jolted before jumping upright and spinning to face him, a manic look in his eyes as he came back to reality. Realizing who it was, he pushed his mop of curls out of his eyes and frowned. The tip of Cobb’s nose was smudged, streaked black with ink, and the sight was so disarming Kyle found himself swallowing a sappy grin. He needed to focus, not swoon like a schoolgirl.

“Jesus Christ, Fitz. What?”

“Aren’t you tired?”

The question clearly wasn’t what he was expecting; suddenly uncomfortable Cobb crossed his wiry arms across his chest and fidgeted, squinting in confusion at the words. 

“... I’m always tired,” he finally said. 

Realizing his mistake, Kyle shook his head before reaching up to pull him closer. Under the short-sleeved sweater vest he wore Cobb was radiating heat, and Kyle welcomed the warmth as it soaked into his palms before speaking.

“Tired of him,” He continued, and as one both men turned to the image of Sander Cohen on the wall. In that moment the face on the poster seemed to be alive, seemed to not just be facing them but looking, aggressively plucked eyebrows raised in a show of affronted outrage. Wincing away from the face, Silas rolled his eyes and stepped back, casually leaning against the desk once more. 

“You’re damn right I am. That old aunt has been leaving his smuggled records in my crawlspace and they’ve been giving me a fit every time one of Ryan’s goons comes along.”

“Well, why don’t we do something then?” 

Wordlessly Silas arched a brow at him and made a shrugging gesture at him, encouraging the younger man to go on. Feeling emboldened by the lack of rejection Kyle pressed on, nearly tripping over his words in his haste. 

“I mean, we can’t keep doing this. The city’s a hair away from turning to shit and that asshole still has us on stage in pin curls and tappers! Together we c-” 

“That what happened to you?” Cobb’s thin lips quirked into a faint smile as he spoke and Kyle felt himself flush. He’d been too caught up in scheming to wash up, but now he was hyperaware of how disheveled he looked- he was still wearing his leotard with only a turtleneck covering his chest. His hair was mussed with the effort of dancing in the earlier show, made stiff with sweat in places, and when he self-consciously rubbed at his jaw his fingers came away oily, tips smeared with leftover greasepaint. While part of him still thrilled at the idea of escaping from under Cohen’s thumb Cobb’s comment stung, and shame drove him to cross his arms defensively, bristling. It wasn’t the outfit itself that rankled him, but the message it implied- he had caved again, played along with Sander and his idiotic flights of fantasy, and now he was wearing that proof like a yoke, a mule too stupid to resist. Even as he knew it was pointless his fingers darted up to swipe at the remaining paint, smearing the cursed dye on his leotard between wipes. 

Watching him struggle Silas gave a smug chuckle. “You’ve got some Cohen on your chin, too.”

“Oh, fuck you.” Against his will he smiled. Cobb’s dirty humor always got the best of him, somehow pierced through his anxiety.

“Maybe later.” 

“Anyway...” The companionable air between them died, stolen away by something cold. “Cohen. I can’t do this anymore. Just last week he pressed me into the rehearsals and this week into the show itself. You weren’t there, but... but... you.”

“Me.” Silas’s smile turned wolfish as he watched the dawning comprehension on Kyle’s face, the rising frustration. 

“You got out of it. How.” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know. Can you believe what he told me?” Delighted with the opportunity Silas swept into a grand imitation of the artist, flicking his wrist with an eerie familiarity. “You have the body of a dancer, dearest Si. It would be an honor for you to be part of this troupe.” Satisfied with the impression, he slouched back against the desk, narrow lips curled in a sneer. “Told ‘im I was going to be busy writing my ‘contributions’ to his next album. I actually spent the night listening to the radio with a couple grey-backs in hand, if you know what I mean.” 

“Christ, you’re disgusting.”

“Sure am.”

“Look, let’s not get distracted. I need your help.”

“With?”

“I want to kill Sander Cohen.”

The room went smotheringly silent, and then:

“Okay,”

“Just listen, damnit, I just- okay?”

“Okay.”

Without waiting for a response Silas turned away and strode to the opposite wall of the office. Kyle watched him go, his characteristic straight-backed gait crossing the room in just a few steps. He reached into a small cooler tucked behind a steamer trunk and gave the item a few shakes, turning towards Kyle with his arm outstretched-

“-You can’t be serious.”

Halfway through unscrewing the Quaff-Aid, Silas gave him a mean stink eye before ripping the lid off and shoving it at him. “I am. You’re drunk.” 

“No, I’m not. Honest.” 

Something in his words gave Cobb pause, and he marched back over to Kyle before trapping his cheeks in his hands, pulling him close to stare into his eyes. Kyle looked back at him blankly, trying not to acknowledge the warm breath brushing his lips as Cobb gently turned his head this way and that. Eventually he let go and stumbled back a few steps, landing on his drafting stool. “You’re sober.” 

While the words were something he’d hoped to hear, the expression in Silas’s eyes was concerning, tracking his movements like a wild animal. “Yes.”

“And you want to kill Cohen. Our boss.”

“Yes.”

“And your bright idea was to share this with me, instead of that shrink woman? Goat?”

“Lamb. And no, it was to come to you.”

“...why. The man’s got his fingers in everything, us included.” This said with a wince. 

“Exactly. We could pull a Julius- take him down from inside.” 

[hxseok-honee]

i found | part 29

a/n: o h b o y here we go- the BIG BOI CHAPTER! i’ve had the idea for this chapter since basically the beginning of the au, and after a long time planning and an even longer time writing and editing, she’s complete. a huge fucking thank you to my bby girl @deepseavibez (ALSO IT’S HER BIRTHDAY OMG MY BBY)- she’s the first to read any of my drafts and also be very honest and real with me about them, and im incredibly appreciative of her. she told me she needed at least 24 hours before she was allowed to speak to me again after she read this chapter bc she was just gonna end up yelling at me, which i love about her. i hope you enjoy it!! lmk what you think uwu~ [also i first had the idea for this chapter after listening to Violence by Tender! not on the playlist but a v good listen for this chapter if you’re into that]

previous | next

_______________________________

It’s been four weeks. Four weeks of whispering and pointing. Four weeks of uncertainty and confusion. Four weeks of being avoided by the one person in this school who had always sought him out first. He knows something is wrong- he knows it’s his fault. She told him that she doesn’t regret what happened between them, but everything she’s been doing is telling him that she does. Avoiding his gaze, being vague in her texts, barely speaking to him in class- it’s obvious that she lied to him when she told him everything was fine between them. It’s so obvious that he can’t tell what hurts more: the fact that she lied or the fact that she’s not even trying to hide it.

Yoongi’s barely been able to get out of bed in the morning these days, let alone sit through all his classes and see Y/n every day. He’s gotten so used to her warm presence that he’s almost unable to revert to his old self with her. He’s forgotten what it feels like to ignore her and only acknowledge her when he has to, and it kills him inside to know that she’s doing it without even hesitating.

And yet, he finds himself showing up to their shared classes every day hoping that maybe she’ll come around. Today is no different. Although she was acting the same in potions, he’s still holding onto the hope that she’ll have even the smallest of smiles on her face when she walks into transfiguration. So as he sits there, trying to prepare himself for what’s likely to be another failure, he finds himself wondering yet again what he could have done differently - wondering how things could have ended up like this. He’s so lost in his head that he almost doesn’t hear her reach her seat, the sound of her bag hitting the desk interrupting his internal despair.

Taking a quick glance at her and confirming that she’s, yet again, not going to acknowledge him, he sighs slightly and opens his textbook, wishing for what feels like the millionth time that things will get better soon. He mumbles a quiet greeting in her direction and waits until she’s hummed in response to start flipping his textbook open. He can hear people whispering behind them, and when he looks over his shoulder he finds that most of the people in the room are looking at him and Y/n. Even a month later, they’re the most popular topic of conversation.

Before long, McGonagall enters the room and silences the class, beginning her lesson for the day. They make it about halfway through the class before she gives them partner work, at which point Yoongi is groaning internally. Y/n’s managed to get through every set of partner work they’ve had without initiating any form of communication, only speaking when Yoongi directly asks her for help. Even now, she’s started working on the assignment without him, leaving him to stare glumly down at his textbook.

He finishes about half of the work before he gets to a question he can’t answer no matter how hard he searches through the chapter, so finally he swallows his pride and pokes her arm, frowning deeply when she flinches away from him. She doesn’t even look at him when she speaks, still staring down at her own textbook.

“What’s up?” Yoongi’s heart skips a beat at the sound of her voice, and he hates himself for it in that moment. Clearing his throat, he taps a finger on his textbook.

“I don’t understand number 12. Can you just show me where it’s explained in the book?” Keeping his eyes on the pages as she reaches over to flip through his book, he’s on the verge of sighing again when something catches his attention. There, peeking out just a tiny bit from under the sleeve of her sweater, is a mark. It’s almost impossible for him to see, but as she’s flipping pages her sleeve rises marginally, exposing her wrist to him. And the more he looks, the more he realizes it’s not just a mark- it’s a bruise.

His blood runs ice cold in his body as something else registers in his mind- he hadn’t just asked her about their relationship that day.

‘is anyone bothering you? there’s no one trying to mess with you, is there?’

Yoongi’s breath catches in his throat as he remembers their conversation. He had assumed she’d lied to him about regretting the night in the common room, but it was entirely possible she’d lied about something else. Dragging his eyes in her direction as if in slow motion, he takes in her appearance as she focuses on finding the passage in his book. He hasn’t looked at her properly in a long time, too busy trying to close himself off to her again, but now he does. What he sees has his fists clenching tightly in his lap, everything becoming so clear now.

Her skin is pale and her eyes are sunken in like she hasn’t slept in days. He can see a cut on the corner of her lip, still red as if it had happened that very day. It’s obvious she tried to cover it up before class, but the makeup is messy, as if applied with a shaky hand. Pulling his gaze down, he has to stop himself from reacting when he sees evidence of more bruising just under the collar of her shirt. As Yoongi stares at her, he wonders just what else she could be trying to hide under those long sleeves and that high collar, and his blood boils at the realization that she had probably flinched away from his touch earlier for a different reason than he had thought. His imagination is running so violently wild now that he can’t stop himself from calling out to her.

“You lied to me.” She freezes in her task, gaze finally lifting to meet his after so long. When she sees the anger swimming in his eyes, she swallows hard. Looking around and realizing that the same nosy people are still watching them as subtly as they can manage, she tries to deflect the conversation. Now isn’t the time to talk about this.

“Yoongi, let’s talk about this later, please-” Her words only incite his anger further, and she has to stop herself from jumping when he slams his hand down on the table, catching everyone’s attention.

“You told me everything was fine!” His voice cracks on the last word, his desperation finally showing as McGonagall starts to make her way over to them. Attempting to ease the situation, Y/n reaches out to grab Yoongi’s shoulder, but he backs away from her touch, choosing instead to reach out with his own hand and take hold of her wrist. Ignoring her protests, he grips her sleeve and pulls it up, exposing her arm to him.

He feels like his breath has left him entirely when he sees her skin, every inch of it covered in dark bruises. Handprints left by several people, scratches and cuts littering the surface of her arm from her wrist to her elbow- everything he had hoped was just his imagination is there, right in front of him. He barely has time to lock eyes with her, hers filled with frustration and his overflowing with disbelief, before she’s yanking her arm out of his grasp, standing out of her chair and successfully knocking it over in the process. He follows her lead, yelling after her as she turns on her heel and rushes for the door, ignoring McGonagall’s request for him to calm down.

“You can’t just keep ignoring me, Y/n!” Not even sparing McGonagall a second glance, he follows after Y/n, fighting the urge to yell at everyone as they start talking loudly now. McGonagall’s call follows him out into the corridor, but by that point he’s already locked onto Y/n’s retreating frame and he knows he won’t let this moment pass.

Catching up to her quickly, he reaches out and takes hold of her arm, almost giving in to the guilt that courses through him when she flinches at the pressure on her skin. Dragging her down the corridor and into an empty classroom, he releases her arm, the guilt so strong now it’s as if he were the one that had put those bruises on her body. Slamming the door shut behind him, he looks at her through eyes filled with pain, frustration, and - most notably - intense anger.

“Why did you lie to me, Y/n?” She’s turned away from him, and it’s so isolating that he just keeps talking, saying anything he can to get her to react to him. “Why didn’t you tell me that any of this was happening? You’ve never lied to me before, Y/n, so why now? Do you blame me for this?” It’s those words that trigger a response from her, so charged with emotion that Yoongi almost takes a step back when she turns to face him.

“Blame you? Yoongi, how could you think that I blame you for this?” She sighs angrily, running a hand through her hair, and Yoongi’s heart lurches when the bottom of her sweater rises just slightly and he sees more damaged skin there. He can feel the corners of his eyes prickling at the sight, the thought of what she’d been through running through his mind as he wonders where he’d been when this was all happening. Swallowing hard and blinking rapidly, he listens as she continues her rant.

“Yoongi, of course I don’t blame you for this. You didn’t cause this. I just didn’t want you to find out - is there something so wrong with that? Is there something wrong with me not wanting you to start even more fights? I’m fine, Yoongi-” All the self-control he had left in his body leaves him as he explodes.

“You’re not fine, Y/n! And it is my fault! I know that, you know that, everyone in this whole fucking school knows that! But you keep pushing me away- you won’t let me protect you! And for what? You want to stop me from starting fights, but I’ve just spent the last four weeks in a constant fight with myself, wondering what I did so wrong that you would push me away this much!” He’s breathing hard, so hard that he thinks he might actually pass out if he doesn’t calm down soon. But he can’t stop himself now- he needs to know everything now. She doesn’t step away from him as he approaches her, and he notes in the back of his mind that at least he isn’t scaring her. She’s a lot more resistant to his temper than anyone else he’s ever dealt with. Running his hands down the length of her arms as softly as he can, he keeps his hold on her as he addresses her, his voice low.

“Tell me who it was.” Her nostrils flare at his demand, and he knows he’s pushing her limits, but he has to know.

“No, Yoongi. I don’t want you fighting anyone-”

“Y/n, please-”

“I said no, Yoongi. I’m fine.” There’s something about hearing those two little words again, so obviously a lie. He’s so tired of hearing her push him away. Everything about the last month has put him on the edge of breaking down, and to have her do to him the very thing she always told him to never do - to have her push him aside like she couldn’t depend on him, like everything they’d been through had been for nothing - it pushes him over the edge.

He knows she feels it when her expression falls blank, her eyes staring up at him as if asking if he’s really about to go through with this. Still, he has to know what’s been done to her-

he knows he’s officially lost his mind and probably all of her trust, but he can’t let this go unhandled. So he pushes further, keeping a firm hold on her as his eyes stay locked on hers. And finally - at the reaction she gives, pushing against his grip almost violently - he knows he’s found it.

“Yoongi, don’t you dare-” He closes his eyes at her words, shutting her out as he locks onto the memory in the recesses of her mind. Fighting the urge to cry, he whispers out to her, broken and desperate.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.”

-

There’s too many. Too many instances when he should have been there and wasn’t. The first shove, the first grab, the first taunt. The Ravenclaw boy that pushed her aside as he passed her in the corridor. The group of Gryffindor girls that cornered her in the bathroom and clawed at her until all that was left was bloody skin and a crying girl. The Slytherins that hexed her in the courtyard, pulling her feet from under her and forcing her to float upside down in the air, exposing her underwear in front of a dozen people.

Every time, there was another there to save her. Despite her curses and attempts to stay strong, there was always another there to pick her up and hide her away. The Gryffindor hothead, the pair of Ravenclaws, her favorite Hufflepuffs. Her boys, always finding her before Yoongi ever could. Always there, wreaking havoc on those that dare to hurt their friend. At least she had them. But there, amongst all the moments, is a more recent one that floats in the forefront of her thoughts, almost overpowering in nature.

She’s walking down the corridor toward the library, quickly and almost fearfully as she checks over her shoulder constantly. She’s so busy glancing behind her that she misses what’s in front of her. Looking ahead of her and realizing too late that she’s being approached by two Slytherins, she swears under her breath and turns back, trying to get away. When she turns back, however, she sees two more Slytherins rounding the corner and heading right for her. Looking back and forth, she realizes she’d be alone in this even if there were 50 other people in the corridor with them - she can’t get out of this.

Before she can react, one of the Slytherins - the only girl - takes hold of the back of her head and yanks back sharply, eliciting the scream of pain she was looking for. Throwing Y/n against the wall, the other three hover over her as their smaller friend swings endlessly, connecting with Y/n’s body over and over again. But when Y/n manages to fight back, landing a particularly nasty hit on the girl’s nose, the three boys jump into action.

One of them raises his hand and brings it down across her face harshly as another pins her to the wall and starts sending hit after hit into her torso. Y/n feels something crack in her body, and she screams so loud that she thinks maybe a teacher will hear her, but the third boy is grabbing her by the back of the neck and throwing her forward, shoving her to the ground with much more force than needed. At this point, even a small poke would send her into a fetal position on the ground, but it’s not like they care. The girl grabs the back of her head again, forcing to look up at them.

“It’s not so easy now when this Prince isn’t here to protect you, is it?” Y/n’s breath comes out as a wheeze, prompting one of the boys to send another punch to the same spot on her ribs that she’s fairly certain has already snapped in half. She screams again, and, on the edge of unconsciousness, she hears someone who sounds oddly like Namjoon running down the corridor, yelling her name. Before slipping over the edge and blacking out, the girl whispers in her ear again, her words echoing throughout the memory violently.

“You should have been more careful.”

-

Pulling out of her mind, the first thing Yoongi notices is the overpowering guilt that’s filling him, almost as if all the emotion he once had is now draining out of his body and leaving him to deal with the consequences. Recognizing just how bad of a person he’s become in the last ten minutes, the second thing he notices is the feeling of hands on his chest, slamming down repeatedly as they push him away. Looking down and finding himself staring into Y/n’s eyes, his brain registers faintly that this is the first time she’s ever expressed herself violently- the first time she’s ever put her hands on someone. But he can’t bring himself to be upset by the fact that she’s hitting him over and over again; he’s too busy recognizing himself in the reflection in her eyes - eyes overflowing with tears, eyes that have never looked at him like he was an enemy until this very moment.

Allowing her to push him back, allowing her to keep pushing until he’s backed up completely against a wall, he lets her cry and push at his chest without even thinking of stopping her. He deserves this, he knows he does. He’s done the one thing she’s asked him to never do, so long ago when they weren’t even friends yet. He knows that, and he knows there’s nothing he can do to stop this. He’ll just stand here and accept the pain that follows because he knows he deserves it. She’s been chanting something through her tears this whole time, the words finally registering properly in his ears.

“I hate you- I hate you- I hate you-” Each one comes with another blow to his chest, her forehead finally coming to rest on his shoulder as she sobs, her fists weakening against his form as she tires herself out. Once he knows she’s done, he brings his arms up slowly, desperate to hold her but terrified that she wants nothing to do with him anymore. Wrapping her in his hold, he chokes back a sob of his own when she clings to him and brings him close to her. Keeping her in his arms, he slides his back down the wall until they’re sitting together on the floor, his arms around her as she sits between his legs.

Leaning his head on her shoulder, he whispers apologies to her repeatedly, repenting for what he’s done. He buries his face in the crook of her neck as the tears that have been hovering at the corners of his eyes finally fall, the dam breaking as he begs her to forgive him. They sit there together, crying as they both understand what’s happened to them the last four weeks- crying as they realize how much they need each other, how impossible it’s become for them to push the other away after all this time.

Once they’re both done crying, Yoongi lifts his head and looks down at her through red-rimmed eyes, brushing her hair out of her face and wiping the tears from her eyes as she does the same for him. He’s still whispering apologies to her, and she’s just nodding along, having already forgiven him without even realizing it. But he’s not done apologizing, and he’s not sure he ever will be.

“You can keep hating me if you want. I deserve it. I know I do.” He says it through a raspy voice, having abandoned any form of embarrassment left in his body. He just needs her to know how he feels, even if it’s the last time she talks to him. He has no idea that she’s just watching him now, running her fingers softly across his cheeks as tears continue to slip from his eyes.

Leaning into her touch, he doesn’t notice how close he’s getting until his forehead is pressed against hers and their noses are brushing. His breath gets caught in his throat, a feeling he’s well-accustomed to by now, but this time he welcomes it. He won’t let her get away from him this time. He won’t let her go another day not knowing how he feels.

So when he tucks a hand behind her neck this time, he knows there’s nothing left for him to do. Leaning in closer and pausing to give her time to push him away, he waits until he feels her grip on the front of his shirt tighten before he’s pressing his lips to hers.

The feeling that spreads through his chest is so sudden and violent that he feels like he might need to pull away, but he knows he wouldn’t be able to do it even if he wanted to. All he can do is press his mouth even closer to hers, hugging her to him while she runs her fingers through the hair at the base of his neck. He knows he hasn’t been able to really tell her how he feels about her, so he pours everything into the kiss, refusing to break it even when his lungs start yelling at him. She’s the first to pull away, finally overpowered by the need to breathe, but even then it’s only for a second before she’s leaning into him again, as desperate as he is to show him everything she feels for him.

Eventually they break the kiss, breathing heavily as they stare at each other, both uncertain as to what happens next. They sit there for a few minutes, just taking each other in. Yoongi runs his fingers through Y/n’s hair and she plays with the hem of his shirt. He leans into her and presses his lips to hers once more before pulling away and moving his mouth to her ear, whispering softly to her as her face warms, her hands running up the length of his arms and clinging to his shoulders and he holds her close.

“You’re mine now, Y/n - so get ready to deal with me forever, because I’m never letting you go.”

[deniigi]

also sorry so tuesday again you write a TON and i know youve answered something like this but like whats your planning system for writing stuff?? ive been writing in a notebook for like an hour planning but idk if writing a ton of sentences and words that are mostly questions and sentences like 'lots of food including @ work' and like, mini schedules for what time things happen is useful? im explaining this bad but uh??? just if you have the time and tips or anything? dcsjthankshaveagreatweek!!!

Hey Tues!!

So yeah, I did discuss a little about my kind of arbitrary planning practices here in this post but in terms of like, the nitty gritty, I haven’t really discussed too much because everyone’s kind of got their own process.

So for me, about 80% of the time, I’ll just sit back and let the work go where it will. I don’t do much planning at all. But when it come to sustained fics, I do do some pretty extensive planning.

But let me be clear here, when I say “extensive planning” I’m talking no more than 1 page of general notes per chapter.

In terms of what goes in that plan, like, it depends on your piece, but in general, for me, every piece you write starts with two questions: where you are in terms of narrative? And what is the main goal for this piece?

Really, the big question you’re asking when you go into a piece is, ‘Where do I need to end up?’, but that can be hard to know before you start writing, so I prefer to think of this is terms of the two questions.

–

So, like, here’s an example of what that floating ethereal bullshit actually looks like (we’ll use a maybe-the-next-chapter from Sidebars as an example so you’ve got something concrete to look at):

So first thing’s first!

1. Where are we?

First, in terms of the larger story. Are we halfway through? Are we still at the beginning? Do we still need to introduce characters? Do we still have plot points we need to hit to establish a relationship or motive or enemy?

Right now, in sidebars when I ask myself this question, I can say, okay. I’m about 3/4s of the way through this story and I am done introducing characters. I’ve established Peter’s relationship with Sam and resolved that mini arc. I’ve established MJ’s relationship with the Acadec kids. I’ve finally FINALLY written the wedding scene, so that leaves me with probably 3-4 chapters to cap off Peter’s Chicago mob situation, to get the Acadec kids to Nationals, and to come up with some kind of ending.

That’s where I am.

So if you’re writing a one-shot, this is going to look different. For example, you need to decide where in their lives your characters are. Where are they physically/geographically? What are they doing in this moment?

(ie. for say, team red, you can say, smth like ‘well, they just met and are trying to feel each other out.’ or ‘This is right after Matt came back from midtown, and Peter and Wade have just started to move on with their lives after his ‘death.’‘–that kind of thing is a good place to start with a one shot)

Once you know where you are, you can start to figure out where you’re going. And that’s when you move on to question two!

2. What is the goal of this piece?

I personally try to pick one main goal and around that, I’ll often have a handful of subgoals going on on top of that big guy.

For example, in sidebars this next chapter must resolve the mob situation. That is the main goal of that chapter.

–

Now, at this point, now that I know where I am and what my main goal is, I can start to draft and weave in the subgoals.

So here’s what that looks like in terms of drafting:

1. Wedding is done. Peter now has time to deal with the mob. Peter needs to gather his team so that they can tag into Chicago to take their turn in the fray. 

2. The problem here is that he is juggling two things at once: he’s got to go deal with the mob, but he and Miles are also due to be in Washington DC for Acadec Nationals in a matter of days.

3. Peter is disaster-prone, which means that something needs to go to shit in one of these areas.

Once you get to this stage, you can start tossing in details and timelines, but until you have these guys worked out, all those little details are great, but not especially helpful in establishing a larger narrative. And straight up? They might even be holding you back at this stage.

For example, in the above example, I really want Peter to ride a motorcycle, so I’m gonna cling to that in my head and I can maybe make a note of that in my planning, but I’m not going to fuck with it quite yet. Instead, I’m going to break my two big plot points down.

That could look like this:

1. Wedding is done. Peter now has time to deal with the mob. Peter needs to gather his team so that they can tag into Chicago to take their turn in the fray.

Peter’s TR has 2 times to meet other Team Reds in Chicago.They meet Gwen and Agave first. This goes awkwardly. These two make Peter reflect on his own time with the Gwen Stacy from his verse.

Shit’s awkward af.

Wade likes Agave. Agave flirts with Wade.

Shit remains awkward af.

After this, Peter and Miles have to scram for Acadec.

(end scene)

At this point, I usually throw in an in-between scene as a transition, just so I know how we are getting where we’re going. So I’d say something like:

The next morning, Peter and MJ nearly miss the bus to Washington DC. It works out somehow that the Brooklyn kids end up sharing a bus with the Midtown kids.

Peter and Flash are brought back together.

The tension is unbearable.

Shit gets real.

And now we have worked our way to main plot point 2. Plot point two is broken down similarly,  and then lo and behold! You’ve planned your chapter!!

You may now start the fun, exciting part of writing the piece. And it is here where you start filling in all the spaces in between those works to bring out textures and characterizations and funny bits, sad bits, introspective bits, world building, etc, etc.

Anyways, Idk if that’s helped you at all Tues. I suppose the main thing I’m trying to say here is that when you’re planning a piece, maybe try staying as big picture and broad as possible. Try to avoid too much detail until you’re actually writing the piece (unless you’ve got a very particular/important detail in mind–in which case, note it on the side, but not in the body of the planning draft) and that might help you a little in terms of shortening the planning process.