kat_lair | WIP Meme

Last week I did the End of Year Fic Roundup wherein there was a lot of retrospective navel-gazing about the fanfic I’d posted in 2006.

This week, as ~~threatened~~ promised, I present you with the WIP Meme, which essentially goes like so…

If you happen to be working on some creative writing project, fanfiction or what have you, post one sentence (or more) from each of your current work(s) in progress in your journal. It should probably be your favourite or most intriguing sentence so far, but what you choose is entirely your discretion. Mention the title (and genre) if you like, but don't mention anything else -- this is merely to whet the general appetite for your forthcoming work(s).

This should be fun… Someone kick my ass about finishing at least some of these this year.

Stargate Atlantis – 5 WIPs (the shame)

1. Untitled (Stackhouse/Markham)
With a grimace Stackhouse picked up the pace, hefting the spear higher. It was sturdy and not particularly light, made not for throwing but for thrusting at a close distance. Of all the things he’d expected when signing up for a brand new galaxy – and there had been some pretty outlandish things on that list – hunting for large herbivores with a bunch of semi-naked Athosian kids on a scorching summer’s day was not one.

2. re-searched, re-found. (McKay/Beckett)
Carson is a lover; he knows this body like he knows his own. Every contour and valley of flesh, every rise and dip of muscle, is familiar land and he roams over it freely. He bites down on the tendon on Rodney’s neck, worries the hardness of collarbone, licks his way down to the millions of nerve-endings already waiting for him.

3. Taste of Maybe food!porn coda (McKay/Zelenka)
Radek tipped the heavy glass bottle, the grin on his face just a bit wild around the edges. Extra-virgin. If ever anything was mislabelled… The amusement faded when the cool liquid pooled on his palm, spilled over and on to Rodney’s skin, thick rivulets of oil running down the curve of his ass.

4. Velvet Revolution (McKay/Zelenka)
That… That was impossible! It should not have happened; he did not have the gene. Radek reached for his radio to call McKay. If this gadget turned out to be yet another highly lethal Ancient play-thing, he was sure as hell not dying alone.

5. Year Abroad (McKay/Beckett, AU) this is a long one that has just been started and probably won’t be finished until next year OMG
His supervisor reached a tentative hand across the desk, patting Rodney on the shoulder. “You’re going to love England. I’m sure the weather is not nearly as bad as they say.”
Rodney buried his head into his hands with a heartfelt groan. He was going to kill Jeanie.

Life on Mars – 3 WIPs (considerable shame)

1. Care in Holding (Ray/Chris, Sam/Chris, Ray/Chris/Sam sort of, Sam/Gene implied)
Sam pitched his voice low, holding the other man’s gaze. “Did you fuck him, Ray?”
The tension radiating from him was sudden and brimming with violence. And really, that was all the answer Sam needed. But it was important that Ray said it out loud, or otherwise they’d never get anywhere. And for Chris’ sake Sam really hoped they would.

2. The Hour I First Believed (Sam/Gene)
Sam stared at the file in front of him, hand-written and illegible. Two desks over Ray was sitting with his feet up, reading and humming something under his breath. Bizarrely it sounded a lot like The Three Blind Mice, and Sam had a brief but traumatizing mental image of Ray and Chris with tails and twitchy whiskers with the Guv running after them dressed in an apron and brandishing a long carving knife.
His forehead hit the table with a dull thump. It was official. He needed to get drunk yesterday.

3. Untitled (Chris/Ray, sort of)
"Ray, Ray, Ray. Are you even sorry?" The deceptively soft voice wound around him and yes, oh god yes, Ray really really was. He'd fucked up so bad, he couldn't make it right, not ever, but for Chris he'd try, he'd be good, belly crawl, get on his knees and...

Supernatural – 3 WIPs (shame of a different kind)

1. Untitled (Sam/Dean)
He watches Sam run an unconscious hand through his hair, the long white line of his throat in sudden contrast to the dark tee hugging his torso like a second skin. When his gaze finally lands on him, Dean feels the jolt all the way to the base of his spine, the intensity of it bleeding from his open lips like a moan, like a promise.

2. Almost Always (Sam/Dean)
This is new as well. Dean doesn’t smoke. Except, apparently, after a fuck. It’s such a clichéd thing to do and usually Dean isn’t one to conform to the expected. But lately, when it comes to sex, Dean is all over every cliché in the book, clinging to the stereotype like it will somehow make a difference. Like it can save them.
Sam doesn’t think it will.

3. Almost Never (Sam/Dean)
“Hey, Dean?” Sam’s voice is thick with sleep and drugs that aren’t working. “Dean?” he repeats, louder this time, and Dean feels like ten kinds of shit for making him call twice. Everyday it takes a bit longer to make himself turn around and face his brother.

House M.D. – 1 WIP (no shame, just new fandom love)

1. Untitled (House/Wilson)
Three months later, pressed against the kitchen counter, clutching the edge with a white-knuckled intensity, House comes to a realisation. This bet had been one he was never going to win, for the simple reason that he’d never really wanted to. Of course, by that time he is beyond caring, helplessly arching against Wilson’s fingers tracing the outline of his collar bone, and it’s much, much too late.

***

In addition I have several Robin Hood and Torchwood plot bunnies brewing but we won’t talk about those because a) I have nothing written down, b) probably never will and c) someone should just shoot me now and put me out of my misery.

Now, let the ass-kicking commence *bends over*

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Posted by

pushkin666.livejournal.com

no, i think what we should do is chain you to your laptop and make you write *g*

mind you, I can't comment. looks away and whistles unconvincingly. "I'm sure I don't have anything to write".

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WIP Meme

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