SanguineReader

so this is my first attempt at writing 1st pov. i feel like this is way to short, i was aiming for like 12 pages for chapter 1, but i did not want to give certain things away. I feel like this chapter just went by to quick. maybe its ok, but as a rule I would like chapters to be closer to 20 pages, i just don't think it works fir this chapter, so if i can get a few more pages out of this i would be very happy. Any helpful feed back for writing 1st pov would be greatly helpful to me. also, this is edited but i consider it a first draft. would also like to know what you thought, how can i improve this. this story starts out dark but is meant to build into brighter and cuddlier scenes. just got to get there.

WARNING!!! This story has some incredibly dark content and themes. So much so I felt that the responsible thing was to warn you ahead of time, decide for yourself if this Abdl work of fiction is for you. If you have similar past trauma this book might not be for you. You have been warned. I hate to spoil this for you, but I want to share with you the gist of the plot so you can decide if you want to read it or not. The story starts off with the main character running for their life. They just escaped, and the situation is godawful. In short, he escaped a sex trafficking victim, I would go so far as to say he just survived being a sex slave by some horrible people. The amount of damage done is so extensive that it’s going to take years to recover from the physical abuse alone, much longer for other things. The character escapes and by a chance of fate, he meets a woman who saves him. The book will center on recovering from the trauma, regression will happen quickly enough, and he chooses to live a much simpler and smaller life while his soul heals from the abuse. I don’t want to give everything away, but it’s bad, worse, and then downright wrong and evil. But it will have a happy ending. Other than healing from his injuries, there is a plot that will build up later. When Bigs go to war with a human trafficking ring that is constantly on the hunt for littles, things might get interesting and intense. This world is the same one I have already written( not yet published anywhere), it’s just an alternative reality and darker story for the main character. I’ll try to add the relevant information into the story naturally so everyone who reads this won’t be lost. This is not the DD, it’s an alternative earth. It’s the earth we all know, just one minor difference that happened in the past about 100 years ago. It’s the gene, the thing that makes littles or Bigs. The history of this earth will be remarkably like the one you know. But the Gene does not come into this story as much as my other one so it should be ok if you are new to my world. There will be NO outright descriptions of the sexual abuse, but the MC is traumatized from it, there will be things related to it though. Mostly the mc trying to recover from what had happened. All character are over the age of 18 Come back to this and do this warning right and tagged for the things that matter. But nothing in this posting is descriptive as it’s just the first chapter. Intro Forget fear!!! This is Terror, traumatized little kid kind of fear that claws at your chest and squeezes your heart until it feels like it might explode. It's the kind of fear that makes you scream for your mommy and daddy after watching that horror movie that you are way too little for. You know how it goes. You try to be big and brave; you try to pretend that the monster hunting the kid on screen is no big deal because you know it’s not real…right? You try to be brave, and you insist that you were not that scared. But no one is fooled when they see you clutching your teddy bear and shaking under that blanket that dad said you were too old to carry around. Your heart is racing, and you struggle to catch your breath. You’re frozen in panic, and you are not fooling anyone kid. Maybe your parents or older siblings laughed as they checked your closet and under your bed for monsters that you keep on insisting you know are not real before tucking you in with a reassuring hug and kiss. But once they leave, the paranoia sets in. The nightlight provides little comfort as it casts eerie shadows around your room, making every corner of your room seem sinister. The gentle sway of tree branches outside your window becomes a haunting dance in the moonlight, projecting twisted arm-like shapes on your wall reaching for you. And every creak and groan of the house sounds like a monster creeping closer. Take my advice and let go of that big girl or big boy pride and call your mommy and daddy, just don’t go to sleep. Nothing good is going to follow because there are things that exist beyond terror, a higher dimension of fear that few will ever experience. Nightmare: Well, it was going to happen, you made a lot of poor choices tonight. The worst part? Nightmares are real in their own twisted way. At least until you wake up and have proof to the contrary. But those monsters almost had you, as you wake up in a cold sweat. But you’re safe now, you’re awake and it’s not real. Warm and moist air breathed down onto your face and neck, and time stops as your face to face with the nightmare that is not supposed to be real. It’s staring at you and even mommy and daddy can’t save you now. When monsters become reality, you pray for an angel to save you as there’s no waking up from the horrors that await. As you feel something hot and sharp piercing through your skin, you realize that sometimes, monsters do come for us in our sleep and there's nothing we can do but scream because it's too late. ************************************************************************ I Got You SanguineReader Chapter 1: Terror or Get to the Light “Move!” “Dam it, Move!” Keep moving, at least make the bastards work for it… “Forget fear, Let the pain Motivate you, move it or you’re going to die, move!” The night clung to the city like a shroud, smothering every alley and street corner with its impenetrable blackness. My breath came in ragged gasps, a desperate rhythm syncing with the pounding of my heart as I fled, turning into another alleyway of the city. Each footfall was a muffled thud against the cold and wet concrete, the only sound on these streets as I quietly skulked on. I darted past shadowy buildings, their looming forms indifferent witnesses to my plight. The darkness seemed to reach for me with long, cold fingers, urging me back to the horrors I'd just escaped. But the monster, that relentless pursuer, propelled me forward. Adrenaline surged through my veins, a bitter cocktail of terror and resolve that kept my legs moving when they begged to collapse. The city was unfamiliar, a twisted maze of back streets that felt alive. Every turn was a gamble, each choice a potential trap. My eyes flickered from one darkened alley to the next, searching for a sign, any indication of a safe path. But the city offered no refuge—only more shadows, only more of the unknown. My body was a map of pain, bruises painting my skin in shades of purple, blues, and blacks—a canvas of abuse that stretched across my flesh. The pain was layered, on both the surface and deep within. Each movement sent fresh waves of agony coursing through me, a cruel reminder of what I had endured. Yet it was that very pain that fueled my determination, a grim assurance that I was still alive, still capable of fighting for my life and freedom. As I stumbled onward, the chilling embrace of the night air seared my lungs, but I welcomed the burn. It kept me anchored to the present, to the reality of my situation, away from the memories that clawed at the edges of my mind, threatening to drag me back into the abyss of despair. “Don’t think just move” thinking to myself again. How long has it been since I decided to run? A rare opening presented itself earlier and I got away. Had it been an hour or less? Keeping track of time was beyond me. Yes, maybe it had been that long. But I had managed to escape, I got away from my captors and I was safe. “Yeah right,” I was anything but safe. Still, they were not hurting me, degrading me. I… I no longer had to act or fake it, if I could just get away, far away and past their clutches. Crap, I started thinking. Then the reality of my situation hit me, I had nowhere to go, no plan, no one I could trust, no one I could call for help. Tears came then, washed away by the cold rain and I felt warm despite the weather from what I hoped was not the start of a fever. My mind grew numb at the thought of my prospects and my thinking had grown erratic and uncoordinated. I noticed a dumpster ahead with its plastic lid bent backwards and open. The lid made a sharp angle with the ground, maybe a good place to hide and rest I thought. Thinking was slow and I wanted to stop. With difficulty my mind urged me to keep going, but I was so tired and in so much pain and the thought of a brief respite tempted me. I limped and staggered my way to the back of the dumpster walking teetering on the heels of my bare feet. I managed to leverage a long green plastic sheet and several broken wooden pallets to the side gap of the lid of the dumpster. It was still dark, and I had yet to be found and I hoped that the garbage would obscure me from any pursuers. “Maybe it was a good place to hide” I hoped ignoring the urgency my mind sent down in waves through the circuits and nerves of my body giving in to the temptation to rest. Taking shelter from the rain under the lid of the dumpster, I winced as I carefully slid down the side of the cold metal. Collapsed was more like it as my leg had given out again. I hurt, everywhere. There was something wrong with my hip. I could feel my bones grinding against each other as I had run into the night. And the pain in my hands and feet had returned and grown sharper by the minute as the adrenaline had worn off. My chest hurt but at least I could still breathe, and I was alive. I reached tenderly for my neck, giving it a gentle caress, trying to ignore what was there as I winced from the pain again. It was cold, so cold and wet. Running into the night naked on the back streets of God knows where. It was impossible but at least I was finally free for however long it’s going to last. Lost in my certainty that it was only a matter of time before they got me, my situation was grim, and I did not know what to do. The attempt to wrap my arms around myself, trying to bring my knees to my chest for some warmth ended in more pain. “Why try, why bother? This can only end one way.” Dropping my arms back down my useless hands felt something soft and to my surprise, dry. I turned my head and looked and found some cloth like thing. It was too dark to fully make it out, but I reached for it anyway. Forcing my hand to grab, my hand strength was near nonexistent as I forced myself to ignore the pain. Something dark scurried from the object and up my arm and disappeared into the darkness. The suddenness of the motion, the blur of the thing, and the feeling of tiny legs on my skin sent a shiver down my spine and a jolt of adrenaline into my heart. I was panting from the unexpected motion and nearly made it to my feet before my leg gave out again. Sitting again, I forced myself to be quiet, but I was in pain again. What else was new. “Deep breaths,” I tried to reassure myself. “It was probably a cockroach, and there are worse things than that out here.” I reached out for the cloth again and managed to drape it over my torso. And using what might as well be nubs, I used the palms of my hands to feel and explore the unknown thing. I felt a string somewhere in the dry mass, and a large pocket, I moved my hands deeper and felt long sleeves and in inner pocket. It was a hoodie. A small smile tugged at my lips, but it had been so long since I last smiled that I couldn't remember when it was. For several agonizing minutes I forced my arms into the sleeves, my fingers were useless as I tried to get the garment on. The sleeves fell well past the length of my arms. I dipped my head down into the bottom of the hoodie and wiggled my way up into it and the body of the hoody fell around me like a dress, but it covered me. Lastly, I used my wrists to squeeze the cloth and tried my best to bring the hood up and over my head. Panting from the effort, no choice but to do my best and ignore the pain. “Finally. Clothes,” I thought. And then I cried ignoring the smell of what I was wearing, overcome with emotion at the dumpster miracle I had found. Sitting against the horrible stench of the dumpster, one last good thing and I was thankful for the unexpected symbol of dignity. I was probably not going to make it, but at least I would be covered I thought bitterly thinking on the last several months of horror I somehow survived as tears tried to fall but wouldn’t. I was too tired for tears and too dehydrated. The thought struck me, “I am going to die tonight,” and I began to shiver, and then I began to sob. Something scurried down my leg and my sobs increased, and my thoughts became hysterical. I am going to die and be thrown away like garbage, alone in the dark. “I might as well be…I am trash,” I whispered to no on in particular. This is where it’s going to end. Falling victim to depression is one thing but falling victim to the truth is another. All my strength was gone, it’s been more than a week since I was last fed, and I have nowhere to go. “Fed,” I laughed. “Yeah, you had it so good” I mocked my own thoughts as I momentarily lost my sanity as I shivered in the cold when a mild wind blew. Alone in my despair, “no one is going to miss me when I go.” “Woosh.” I snapped my head to the left, adrenaline shooting again inside. “What was that?” Cowering in place, “did they find me?” I stared into the darkness and rain, looking but not seeing, for a long… “Woosh,” a sound and bright light moving in the darkness maybe less than a hundred feet away. My heart was beating loudly in my ears as the thing disturbed the falling cadence of the rain and the still of the alley. “Woosh,” another thing moved in the night. It took me a long minute to realize it was a car. “I must be near the street,” I thought as I pieced together what the sound and light was and Several minutes passed before my breathing evened out. “The street,” I thought. Cars, people, and help? But I could not move the fear gripped me, I could not think as I froze in terror. “What if they hurt me too?” Incredible and familiar pain seized my neck, and my body twitched and spasmed uncontrollably. A long and familiar 5 second blast of pure agonizing pain burned its way into my neck. My gums squeezing violently against my tongue. The smell of my flesh burning again as I fell over into a ball withering and screaming. The sound seemed so loud bouncing off the lid and metal of the dumpster, sound waves bouncing back and forth. “Found you kitten, I would know those sweet screams of yours anywhere.” His chuckling taunt echoed somewhere down the alleyway I had been walking down a few minutes ago. My hand reached for the sturdy pink collar locked around my neck. But I could not even grab the metal prongs that were always there. I had no means of turning the prongs away to keep him from shocking me again. I tried to force as much of the sleeve of the hoody as I could into place between my overly burnt and cracked skin and the sadistic metal of the shock box and prong. Hoping against hope that it was enough to keep the prongs from arcing, preventing another painful blast into my broken body. My heart was a galloping horse, a runaway train. Adrenaline pumped again into my weary body, sending signals to my brain to run. But I was seized by the fear of this man. My blood had turned to ice and time slowed as I shook and trembled violently as I laid there on the cold pavement. “This is it,” I thought, my last coherent thought as the terror overtook me sending signals of panic to every muscle in my body. I don’t have the vocabulary for this, what is beyond terror? And suddenly I knew I was about to die. The Pain temporarily vanished like the sweetest dream you have ever had. Maybe an evolutionary trait, that fight or flight reflex that forces you to somehow endure, the body unwilling to give in to fate. My heart would not stop pounding and I was still frozen in fear. “Woosh.” A small light shone where I was hiding. And I had not just been found out, I had been located. I breathed, my body coiled, my body moved on its own without any input from me. Abandoning my temporary save house falling on my face in the attempt, my desperation and panic driving me forward. This must be how a cockroach feels when you turn on the kitchen light in the middle of the night. You are surrounded in the protection of blissful darkness, and you can move around unseen. But then someone flips a switch, and all your little body knows is panic. Your every instinct scream at you to run and to hide. It does not help that whatever it is that disturbed the peacefulness of the darkness can step on you, smack you with something, or some other insane cruelty. Then smoosh. A roach wouldn’t even know. It would happen so fast. Roaches may be the most hated little critter that ever was, their mere existence a crime. It’s kind of unfair really. Roaches are quite defenseless, almost completely blind, and helpless. Kinda of like me. Not feeling it, but my leg gave out again but like that cockroach, fuck it ill crawl if I have to. I scurried on my forearms and knees, pushing as hard as I could behind me propelling myself forward. scrambling up and out somehow forcing myself to stand and my leg held this time, and I ran. Not the slow and careful manner I had been doing before, on my heels, But on my broken toes as fast as I could. “Woosh.” The sound and lights of the cars were just ahead. The answer, my choice, my last choice before he got me again. I did not waste time thinking, it was the best chance I had. To make it end suddenly and finally. “The light, the light, get to the light,” that mantra blasted into every part of my brain as I moved. Something crashed into me as I dove forward past the sidewalk, landing on the curb. My torso was in the gutter, but I had managed to get an arm up in time to brace and protect my face as I crashed into the street. To my regret I took a moment to catch my breath and looked behind me as a raised boot lifted high and it began to fall like a hammer over an anvil in the air. And then time stopped. The rain drops froze in place and all was quiet. They say your life flashes before your eyes at the end. And my life began to play. Memories came to me like a reel of film projected before my eyes in the air amongst the frozen rain drops. Twenty years of experience compressed into a single point and my life replayed itself in that frozen moment of time. The slide show was too short, I only had a few happy years on this earth. The oldest memories played but they were too vague, degraded by time. My early years passed by quickly as details became more vivid, the scope of the slide show grew as I watched my self-grow up, my understanding of the world keeping up with the pace of the growing details. The reel slowed to one of the last good memories I had. Before it all changed when I was six. The days that followed were the worst, and in some ways worse than the horrors that were chasing me. My mommy was there, my daddy too and even my little sister. “Kristen, Kids, I’m home.” He was so tall and so big I thought as I ran to him, “Daddy your home. I missed you.” “I missed you to little guy.” Where you a good boy while I was gone?” “Yep, I was very good.” “And where you a good big brother, where you nice to summer? “I was really nice, I’m not a bad guy daddy.” Chuckling “Good boy, always look after your little sister, your mom too,” he said as he raised me up to give me a hug and a kiss. My sister was there and my mom right behind her. He bent down with me still in his arms and picked summer up. “Daddy,” she squealed “your back.” Kissing her gently on her forehead, “Yep, I’m home and good news I can stay for a few weeks before I have to hit the road again.” Summer cheered as she dug deeper into our dads’ arms. “Missed you Ethan,” my mother said, as she came in completing the group hug, giving a peck to his cheek. I rotated in my dads’ embrace and gestured with my arms to my mother and dad passed me over to her as he readjusted his balance with summer on his hip. I had always looked up to my dad, he was larger than life and my hero and I wanted to be just like him when I grew up. But mommy was my person, and she was special, we had always been close. “Was Josh really nice to summer while I was gone?” “Hey,” I said from my favorite perch, “I’m getting good at being a big brother.” My mom tossed my hair, gave me a kiss as she eased my head to her shoulder, and said, “Yeah, he did a great job, took that chat of yours to heart. Even stop one of the neighbors’ kids from teasing her and he’s been trying to teach her how to ride her bike.” “That’s my boy, you’re going to be a fine man someday, I’m so proud of you” My dad said as he reached out to pat my head as he walked to the kitchen for dinner, my mom carrying me in toe as I beamed at his praise. The memory was one of the happiest I had, from when they were all still alive. My dad coming home, being acknowledged by him. A big family hug in the entryway. It had been so long since we had all gathered at the table as a family. I could almost make out their faces as we sat around the table eating some delicious meal that mom had made. My sister being her silly and annoying self, she really did make it hard to be nice to her sometimes, but I loved her. Dad enthusiastically ate what he called real food, as he talked grown up stuff with mom. And mom thankful for the help dad provided when he was home, now there would be only one set of arms reaching for her, Summer was ever bit a daddy’s girl as I was a momma’s boy. I enjoyed watching the smiles, hearing the laughter. Need some work. The night ended early for my exhausted dad falling asleep on the couch with Summer in his arms. For me, in my parent’s bed in my mommy’s lap as she picked up where she had left off in our nightly reading. She helped me with the bigger words, encouraging me to sound them out, until I had grown sleepy, she took over and we would cuddle close till I began to nod off. A kiss to the head, a flicker of the lamp, then my mommy’s voice sang me the rest of the way to sleep. I had seen enough, and I hoped that if there was a god, I would see them soon. Not wanting to watch the rest I cut the reel of film somehow and the memories dimmed and vanished. “Woosh.” The raindrops began to fall again as the boot came crashing down on my outstretched leg. My leg the lever, the curb the fulcrum, and the impact my femur and something cracked and broke inside me. I was sure I had felt it all before, every kind of pain there is, but my understanding of pain reoriented itself around the soul piercing scream that came out of my mouth and the fire in my upper leg as I heaved in the gutter. His boot came up under my other leg and he flipped me over onto my back, while I continued to scream and spasm in the rain. And he looked at me, with those dead and drunk eyes. “Thought you could get away huh bitch?” He pulled something out of his pocket and pointed it at me. My world was an explosion of pain, but I knew what it was, the remote to the collar. Sizzling and crackling fired at the side of my neck, and I winced bracing for more pain, and to my shock nothing happened. I did not have long to think about the sleeve that I had forced into place with my broken fingers, despite the rain there must have been enough dry material in between the prongs and my skin. He looked confused and annoyed, then angry. And he moved to kick at me again, but lost his footing, either drunk or high, he slipped on the wet curb screaming with a curse. “Woosh.” Another car sped past behind me, it was so close, and I remembered my mission, “get to the light, and make it end.” Forcing myself to sit up, I could not turn away from him. My left leg dangled in front of me useless and I ignored the pain in my hands and pushing with my one good leg as I scooched tripoding my way to the finish line, salvation was just feet away. “Woosh.” He picked himself up off the street as I made my slow backward advance into the street. Scooching backward, I kept my eyes on him, hoping that I could make the last few feet before he got me. He righted himself and looked back down at me, and advanced. A shriek of tires, a blinding flare of headlights, reality twisting violently. I closed my eyes turning my head towards the light, hoping and afraid that they would never open again, like a cockroach, just let it end without me knowing. Screech Bang!!! The impact was sudden, metal against bone. The pavement rose up to meet me, and I sprawled across it, my mind severed from my body, like a puppet severed from its strings. . . . Despite the falling rain the world somehow seemed still as I laid there. The pain was gone at least but I could not move, and my only thoughts were wisps of consciousness and my last view of the world and sky were marred by my long and wet hair plastered to my face as the cold rain continued to fall slowly. My vision reduced, and the view was circling in as light seemed to radiate from everywhere. “So, it ends, it’s over. It’s finally over.” . . . Or so I thought as I laid there. . . . A face appeared, breaking through the veil of light and into the circle of my dying world. The face was beautiful, enchanting, and worried. Long brown hair touched my face. Fingers gently brushed away my wet hair from my view. Concerned and pleading eyes gazed down into mine that touched the dying sparks in my soul. So, Gods a woman. Go figure. I wanted to laugh but the muscles in my face could not move. God said something, her lips moved, and I could not hear it. But then she looked away and up, into the darkness that I had come from. I could not see much, the light was blinding, but I was looking at her chin as she rose like a giant above me. Sound returned as a figure darted into the edge of my periphery. So, he’s going to get me after all. Puddles exploded around me as feet fell and I waited for a boot to the face, but it never came. And helplessly I watched, figures and shadows dancing in and out of my circle of vision. Arms lashed out, shouting, and bestial cries followed as I lay helpless. A body was flung through the circle of my worldview and crashed behind me. . . She came back to me as my world of light began to fade to black. She hovered over me looking away into the night like a sentinel. I don’t know for how long but when red and blue began to collide into my dimming world she looked back down at me; her hair again caressing my face and I wanted to reach for those brown strands. “It’s ok, I’m here, your safe.” “I got you.” Chapter 2 The Angel King may want to keep the Angel king for the main story Notes1:I do want a recount of Maryes pov of the fight with Dylan. Maybe she is reliving it in her mind as she’s in the waiting room of the hospital. There are some important things for this. It alludes to Beth. But most importantly I want a moment for Dylan (1-2 paragraphs of his point of view only, this will be one of the few times)as he retreats back into the night after the fight with Mary. He was drunk or whatever and not at his best. Though it would have been a close fight. One thing that must happen. Dylan needs to get a photo of Mary license plate. Mary’s point of view has that short phone call with Robert, the sauce between the dialogue should help establish things when Robert and sunny return later. I don’t want to much of marys pov, I want to try to center this on josh, but there are a few places where it might be better to watch josh react to things instead of experiencing them from a writing standpoint.

I agree, i will get a lot of use out of it, thank you. also i think that was a typo. I meant 150k.

writing conventions?.... and this is why i posted on daily for helpful things like that. I am very good with constructive criticism, so no worries and thanks. writing conventions? really don't know what that is. i know how to express my self just find, but grammar, spelling, English, just has never been my thing. i don't know how to structure text to make it easier for reader. im on discords and a few people have been kind enough to help me out here and there. But honestly, i dont know what i am doing, its baffles me that you think that what i shared was good. its a surprised to hear, though i got told that a few times this week on discord. the two scene i shared i probably my best work. as for the technicality of writing goes. i have other scene that i hope invoke the emotion that i am going for, the way i feel when i read them i want others to feel them to. i actually think of them as my best work but i have some editing to do over there. but there close, mostly just the dialogue. My strengths are in math in science, but i have this story i want to tell and i have been writing non stop since i got committed to putting it on paper. any hints would be appricated

spent the last few hours checking it out and other ai tools. I can see why you like it, should save me quite some time seeing how grammar is the bane of my existence, lol. Sounds like an intresting story. what i am writing, so hard to explain. but its my answear to the Diaper dimension, which i found to be to cruel for comfort. My story takes place here in this world, there is a gentic componet to this but essentially everyone in the world as a gene that sometimes flips on. some people become bigs, others littels. anyway, the MC is a dl. kind of freaked out that his love of diapers will get him to be triggered or that he might be a surpressed littel. Head space, is like a condition in the book, casuing you to regress mentally to whatever age. Suprisingly the story is not really about being babyied or diapers either. its about finding family. The real conflict centers on the MC past, what he supressed, a lot of truama from when he was a kid. the second MC, is a big, but they both develop a platonic friendship as they talk out the fears, and just live life. at some point things are so bad for the MC that he takes robert up on his offer to try living like a littel for a month, seeing if he gets triggard. about finding out who he is suppose to be. Other character come into. A mommy like figure, and a little girl, who becomes like a sister to him. the babying is rely a form of therapy form him as he becomes more and more vunerable. in time you learn about his past and he finlly starts to heal and grief many people who had died in the past. the book is called Littel or not. and it ends with the conclusion of what he discovered from the babying/ thereapy. i leave it as a cliff hanger but technically you should be able to figure it. then there is a sequel and some oter stuff i am working on. I Mostly focuse on cuddeling, simply being held is like my favorite thing. you dont always have to dress up all the way to get what you need. and in te end the MC just wants to have a family again. its ment to be touching if i can write it that way. tons of diaper and all that, but it really is about physical affection with people you love, not in like a dirty way. I could be more expressive on this to make this sound way cooler, but i am leaving that to my self for now i have like 250 pages currently, sigh, so much work to do and i dont even want to think about the editting.

sculpting, sounds about right, i imagine trimming a hedge. But grammarly, i am intrigued. i will look into that. i know i will stay have to write it, but having something to shake out the clutter would be nice Sounds like a cool project you are working on, hope it turns out well.

My method is close to yours spark, say i never wrote anything done when the story came to me, i am doing it after the fact(so much regret over that). Its just that i can go so deep inside my mind, I live out my thoughts in my head. I began last summer, after being inspired by something, i just thought about it. i got so engrossed in it that i spent 6 weeks of all my off time just staring off into space, in my head i was living it, feeling it, hearing the dialogue in my mind. It was a lot of fun, but eventually i made the decision to write it down. The story i was making met a lot to me and i never wanted to forget. I am not a writer, i used to be a math teacher if that tells you anything lol, major learning curve. but i have been forcing myself to relearn things they teach you in school. I have been writing like a mad man, i don't have a structure to this, its just all in my head. and i write one scene as i remember it, then another. and latter in the editing process i have to figure out how to connect everything. not the best method i know, but its what i got. and i do the read aloud function to. I am getting close to a major shift in the story, and will have to structure that out carefully. and i plan on learning as much about how to do that before i get there. and hopefully sticking to that method in the future.

yeah that could work, and your not wrong. there is not a lot of understanding of where josh, Robert, and the drunk are. i can see how that would be confusing.

Its one of those things where your context is limited because i did not post the whole scene. It supposed to begin with robert leaving work and then you switch to josh perspective that leads up to the crash. i was thinking if i kept it short i might get more people to read it. maybe i should of just posted the whole scene. Why Robert swerved, he was suppose to do it because there is a drunk guy in the road, but that would not make much sense considering the setting so i was wanting to re imagine that, as for the AI. He disengaged it prior to the scene, its like 4 pages before what i posted. i might not want to say AI because that implies that the car should of acted on its own. will have to think on that. hey thanks for responding, means a lot. i think i am just going to post the whole scene.

I like that a lot of people have seen this, but really could use some feed back. be brutally honest if you want. I have over 200 pages in the works and so much more to write. If i need to step up my game i will, but i need to hear that from you all, so please if you read this, say something, it was bad, it was good, take an extra minute and add what you liked, or did not like. i no this is missing context but that's on purpose dont want to spoil things down the road.

I am working on this car wreck scene, Hoping for some feedback. Have never written any thing like this before, was trying to capture the dynamic action. Ill leave out the proceeding 6 pages to be concise, though it does give more context. Having found some of his nerve, he noticed the rain; it had picked up while he was inside. And his gathered nerves slipped through his fingers. Not wanting to drive in this kind of weather, if he could have avoided it, he would never drive. But his supply had run low, and he still had to get to work, he did not have a choice. And memory came back to him, His new job; “started in less than an hour” he thought, wishing he had the day shift. Taking a deep breath again, he walked quickly to his car, regretting parking so far away. With one hand clutching his purchase, as his other reached for his keys. His new job, he could not be late. It took everything he had to find the courage to include on his resume that he had a medical issue and had to wear protection Standing in front of the car door, it was hard to see the keyhole, but on finding it he pushed the old key into the lock. “Screeeeeeeeeech” Josh reacted to a terrifyingly familiar sound as rubber screeched nearby. And as he looked up, for a moment he saw beams of light rolling in the darkness failing to pierce the shallow fog on the street as the beams scattered. Then the booming clang of metal echoed uncomfortably close into the long cold night. Then his world went black. Robert Passing the recently built subdivisions catered to the more affluent, and not too far from his house he approached a familiar intersection. (not a place for a drunk to be, change the setting) Robert was still semi daydreaming, waiting, and hoping for the eventual day he longed for, when he could be a true and proper daddy in his own right. His mind distracted, in the happy thought; then his instincts noticed; through the windshield, fog, and rain the silhouette of something, no, someone in the middle of the street. INSTINCT, that part of his mind that saw more clearly and reacted faster reached for the control center of his brain. His instincts fully engaged, taking control over his body, forcing his consciousness away. Adrenaline surging, he used all his might to jerk the steering wheel as hard as he could towards the left. While simultaneously slamming on the brake; causing a dreadful screech to fill the night. Losing control, the rear wheels lost their grip on the road as they spun out and hydroplaned over a puddle. A disorientation of unease formed in the pit of Roberts stomach as his body rose in the air and like a corkscrew turn on a roller coaster was yanked back down over repeatedly. The centrifugal forces of the role slammed Robert’s head into the glass of the window. Time slowed down as he began to crash and ricocheted through the street and into a parking lot. Contorting and crunching of metal, violent vibrations stabbed at him knocking the air from his lungs. The vehicles airbags deployed on first contact with the street, creating a protective cushion of air inside the cabin, though the side bags malfunctioned. Roberts arms flailed against the window, roof, and dash; unable to bring his arms to his chest, unable to find purchase or something to brace against. Helplessly strapped to his seat, terror overcame him as he was forced to endure the merry go round from hell. Thank goodness for the fire hydrant that slowed and altered the path of the rolling car. Thank goodness for the adjacent parked Toyota as it absorbed most of the momentum. The back end of his car, up in the air rolled over the Corolla, the front low to the ground. The back end rolled and fell, causing the front end to pop in the air. Partially slamming into the parked civic, bumping it a few feet as it continued to roll over the hood. And as he rolled across and off the hood, being pulled back down again he thought he saw a kid or a teenager from his elevated position through the window as he came crashing upside down for the final time, coming to a tittering stop as the car found a new center of balance. Robert never quite lost consciousness, but he was in a daze and in shock. “Ahhhhhh”, He groaned. He was not sure how long he hung there, his world upside down. Long enough to feel his heartbeat in his ears as his blood circulated into his head. Long enough to feel the fatigue of the straps anchoring him in place. Long enough to feel the aches in his body, the thumping in his head from being tossed like a ragdoll as a female voice drowned on over the speakers. For a long minute he just hung their panting as his sense of orientation came back to him. Causing his windshield to fog a bit as he did so. He raised his arms off the roof of his car bringing them to his face, needing to feel something as if the act would tell him he was ok. Instinct: “Wait, where’s The kid.” His instinct roared back to life looking this way and that. And there, seeing somehow into the dark outer periphery, through the passenger window the outline of a body overturned on the pavement. For a long moment his instincts recoiled from the daze of what it saw. It retreated long enough for Robert’s conscious mind to come to the surface to see what had made his instincts to retreat. “NO!” And past fears came to him, his nightmares realized. That it had happened. He had harmed, hurt, caused pain, he had killed…..”NOOO!” he screamed. Robert had feared this moment, ever since the instinct came to him when he was triggered in his sophomore year. The thought of what he might be responsible for came to him in a sudden flood of panicked terror, a desperation for it not to be so. And in a rare moment of clarity, in a moment of grim determination he and his instincts united as one inside his Big space. The combined effort was enough to ignore the pain and discomfort and a new shot of adrenaline fueled the duet that played inside his mind. Frantically, his body wiggled and strained to get free as he clawed at the latch of his safety harness. Finding the latch, he struggled with the release. Though he felt it, Robert ignored the new added injury as gravity pulled his large muscular body headfirst into the roof. “Please remain in the vehicle” the AI stated. “Distress call has been dispatched and emergency assistance is on its way.” The Ai continued to repeat itself as Robert struggled to pull his legs down and out of the driver’s alcove. Crawling over to the passenger side, the compartment now smaller from the crash; seeing again what he thought might be a teen or a kid laid out on the pavement. On his belly he reached and tried the door handle, though Robert had no way of knowing that the locking mechanism had been damaged. “Stupid computer.” Roberts mind whirled, “wait the computer.” (I may cut this) “System: Activate emergency door ejection” Robert yelled desperately. “Processing, denied. Please remain in the vehicle…” “There is a guy out there, I need to check to see if he needs help.” Robert tried again. “Please stay in the vehicle and try not to move. Initial diagnostic complete; damage to the driver is non-critical, please stand by for medical aid.” Taking a moment to breathe and think, “there is an injured person, and I need to render medical assistance.” “Processing, denied.” He tried again “the vehicle is in bad shape, there are hazardous conditions that will lead to my death if you don’t let me out. “Negative, no such conditions detected.” Growing frustrated at his inability to do anything but watch on he screamed “Fucking rich people and their stupid cars”. And then he tried again “your sensors are not working right; don’t you see the fire.” “No fire detected.” “I am going to suffocate or burned to death he howled If you don’t let me out, I can see hazards you can’t, “Processing. Considering. Denied.” Robert tried to turn his body, to get his legs under him to kick the passenger side window out but was unable to. Frustration continued to grow. Anger and explosive energy wailed up inside, coiling like a snake, enraged at the time he wasted on the AI, enraged by his lack of mobility. Robert found footing somewhere in the driver’s compartment to brace himself. He bawled up his fist and began to punch the window, over and over, until it shattered. Ignoring the bloody mess that was now his hand, he hauled himself through……….

Thanks Personalias, I took some of your suggestions still considering some others. Your discord channel is a lot of fun, filled with some wonderful people who don't mind helping out a new guy like me:)

This will be short because it’s my first upload and I just want to see how it goes, just the first part of the intro and I am curious what kind of feedback I will get. I have been trying to get better as an author, ideally so I don't have to spend so much time editing. I am new at writing, but a long-time reader and I have been writing since last summer. This story is a companion book to my actual book. Characters overlap, and this was an exercise to practice writing while a figured some characters out. Somethings I thought might be helpful. I am very fascinated by the Big & little dynamic. I find the concept of head space fascinating and that's what began my writing. There are other things I care about: processing trauma, healing from it, something as simple as being held and being told everything is going to be OK, and lastly, finding happiness in a world where bad things sometimes happen. I have mixed some things in to add to the world building that I think some of you might like. There is something about littles that is hard to articulate. In the way their faces light up when they smile, and the joy they bring with them wherever they go. You can see this in the way they play and laugh, in their naive and gullible natures, in their contentment with simple things. Whatever it is that makes littles so unique would be close to their purity of spirit. Adults have lost that purity, that innocence. And children will eventually lose theirs too, becoming adulterated by simply living in a broken world caused by flawed people. And that is what is so terrible about growing up. Your innocence is taken from you the more you experience life and the world. Perhaps that is what makes little so fascinating. Unlike children they won’t shed that purity, unlike adults they haven’t lost that innocence. That purity of the spirit is preserved for ever. There is a fierceness inside of Bigs and it’s seen through many words we use to describe them; here are some. Words like: “caregiver, protector, provider, and parent”. We sum it up in the words Mommy and Daddy. A name that when cried provokes great fierceness. Will it be hands that reach for you when you’re sad? A fist ready to fight for you? Strong arms to hold and comfort you? A gentle understanding voice that lets you know that everything will be, ok? Or eyes that radiate unending compassion to let you know you are loved? There is also a nobility of character inside of them. A fragility that is willing to risk, suffer, and give of themselves for the thing they care about. Hmm, how fitting is it they got to be the ones to watch over that purity of spirit that remains unchanging in a dark world. (working progress) - SanguineReader Sunny By me Being little is a beautiful thing. This was something Sunny knew. She was of course thinking back to a simpler time, before all the heartache and pain. Back when her family was still together, and things were good and simple. Back when she was not afraid to run to her mommy or daddy when she got scared or sad. They were all ways there for her, quick to pick her up and embrace her in strong loving arms. Back then when they paid attention to her, made her feel special, and loved. There was just nothing like being little back then. Having grown tired playing amongst the flowers, arranged to form a small 6ft tall maze, and spotting a large budding oak tree she carefully looked into the little park; looking this way and that, making sure that she could not be seen she made her way to the tree. Finding a comfortable place beneath the large oak tree to lie down, light beaming down through the branches as she looked up and caught the brilliant blue of the sky above peeking through the leaves. Her eyes had grown heavy as a gentle breeze blew and brought with it the comforting smell of newly budding flowers. Being little was beautiful, she thought one last time. As she fell into a gentle sleep whispering the words, “back then.” v Having grown up her entire life in a world of littles and Bigs, Sunny never paid much attention to those strange adults who were treated like children. She never hated them or thought bad of them. She just knew they were different and needed more care. And since she was not a Big or a little, she had little reason to think about them. Until her triggering when the family found out her dad had been cheating on her mom with a colleague from work when she was thirteen. Things got bad fast. “An honest mistake” he had tried to explain to her mom. But she was not having it. It did not help that his girlfriend demanded that he leave his family and marry her when she found out she was pregnant. Divorce is never fun, especially for a child. Not really understanding at the time, she just knew her mom now hated her dad. There was so much screaming back and forth, meanness, things thrown, crying, grief, depression, and rage. She withdrew within herself and made herself scarce as best as she could. She and her older brother Lucas somehow became forgotten in the battle that ensued. Caught in the middle, she and her brother watched on helplessly as the two people they loved the most in the world ripped each other apart. When at home she stayed out of their way, at school she pretended everything was fine, doing her best to not let her friends or teachers see how sad she was inside. But how could she be fine? She felt like a hostage to her parents, knowing by now to never give the appearance of picking a side. Things would never be like they used to be, she knew, knowing that something tore inside her heart. And, not knowing when a certain gene that had laid dormant deep inside had activated beginning to send new signals and chemicals to her brain. She began to feel this desire, not quite a compulsion but to play with toys meant for younger kids. To want to ask for hugs and kisses, to raise her arms with the expectation that she would be picked up. And though the feelings inside of her grew slowly, small signs began to appear by the time she was fifteen. Her growth had long started to slow, her breasts were underdeveloped, she would have accidents at night every now and then. And though she never told anyone, sometimes during the day too. There were other things of course. Rediscovering old toys in the attic and playing with them when she could. She recovered her old companion Bebe and even an old paci. There was a growing kind of focus that started to form inside of her. an attention span that was not quite normal that usually set in when she played or drew. There were developing changes in her mannerism, a diminishing of emotional fortitude. She found herself isolated from her parents, depressed and alone. If it was not for Lucas, she did not know how she could have made it through those tough times. When the shouts and yells would turn to screaming, and horrible words were said, and when his mother would attack her father trying to provoke him to do something she could use against him; she would always run to her room and hide. Sometimes under the covers, other times in her closet or under her bed. If Lucas was home, he would always come and find her. Lucas was two years older than her and such a sweet and caring brother. Fiercely protective of her, always going out of his way to make her feel loved and special. On one particular night, the fighting had gotten really bad. The night her father chose to leave and never come back, choosing the other woman over her mother, Lucas, and herself. That night she ran to her room and hid in the closet. She kept a secret in there. An adorable purple stuffed giraffe her parents had given her when she was born. Huddling under a blanket she held on to Bebe for dear life. That night, her brother came to find her, looking for her in her room, knowing there were only so many places she could be hiding. Not finding her immediately and checking under the bed and still not finding her. He turned and moved and checked the closet. Seeing her with tears falling from her eyes and seeing Bebe again in her arms; he crawled in under the blanket pulling the door shut behind him. It only took a second to pull Sunny into his arms, wrapping his arms tightly around her as she laid the side of her head on his shoulder. Lucas was tall enough to feel the weight of several dresses on top of him, as he moved her while in his lap to a more comfortable position; leaning and resting against the back wall of the closet. Through the walls the shouting intensified, and the sound of breaking, shattering, and general mayhem as unknown objects had been moved from their places as they had been thrown. And with each new crashing sound, Sunny would tremble or jump, giving Lucas the extra reminder that something in the house was broken and in pieces. “I don’t know how, but I promise that someday everything will get better. None of this is our fault, it’s not your fault Sunny. Mom and dad can’t seem to see us anymore, and I know that hurts. But we have each other, and I love you. I can’t prove it right now, but someday everything will be OK.” With a raised and gentle whisper into her ear. The Heighten screaming began to raise in tempo and tenor, as the sound of hurried bodies made their way to the front of the house. And, moments later a large bang that caused Sunny to Jump in Lucas arms, another signal that something was broken and scattered. Their family; as their father left for good. Lucas tightened his hold on her when she jumped at the sound of the loud bang. And she cried. And cried while he brushed his fingers through her hair and patting her back. Unable to keep the tears at bay any longer, Lucas let his pain flow gently down his cheeks, and then began to sing. In a soft and mournful tone, and with the occasional catch in in his throat; he sang slowly. “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy, when skies are gray, you'll never know, dear, how much I love you, so please don't take my sunshine away.” He sang a few rounds, holding her, and feeling the warmth of her body grow in his lap. It pained him that his parents could not see them anymore. And the saddest thing of all was they could not see the changes in Sunny. He knew there was nothing he could do for her, he just wished he knew what to do, and he worried for her. He did not want to imagine his sister deteriorating to the point where he had to call little services. He was not completely sure she was regressing or if was a coping mechanism for the stress of all the fighting. He had noticed things for a while, but it was so slow. Speaking softly then Leaning in as he spoke, he kissed her on the head after a short pause. “If we have to be sad Sunny, at least we are together. I love you sunshine, I always will.” “I love you too Lukey.”