Fic memes (since I seem to be having trouble writing fic any other way)
Since I'm going through a spot of writer's block at the moment, I thought some fic-based memery might help.
Stolen from gritsinmisery and wyvernwolf:
Post a single sentence from each WIP you have (or as many as you want to pick). No context, no explanations. No more than one sentence! (They're all untitled at this point).
Life on Mars
1. Maybe the supposed past utopia was more wishful thinking than reality, but it was better than thinking that this was it.
2. "You had to know it was coming."
Life on Mars/Ashes to Ashes
1. The little tart was driving him spare, and short of throwing him down and fucking him in the midst of the writhing bodies there was only one thing he could do.
Life on Mars/The Devil's Whore
1. "Sure, I'd love a whole conga line of rabbits bouncing up and down to the fucking Spice Girls, but do you think you could untie me first?"
Being Human
1. He doesn't know why he doesn't throw it away, toss it in the bin to be discarded with the rest of the rubbish.
State of Play
1. He wasn't the only one that Stephen's fucked over.
Doctor Who
1. He heard the click of high heels approach him, he felt the bed dip slightly next to his head, he felt her breath as words spilled from her mouth so close to his ear.
This one was snagged from a fair few people over at the Skins comms.
1. Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like.
2. Turn your music player on and turn it on random/shuffle.
3. Write a drabble/ficlet related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish the drabble; you start when the song starts, and stop when it's over. No lingering afterward!
4. Do ten of these, then post them.
Fandom: Life on Mars
Pairing: Sam/Gene (and Sam/The Missus/Gene in one case)
Ratings: PG through to NC-17 (Blue to Brown Cortina)
Warnings: masturbation, voyeurism, violence, swearing, angst
i. When your mind starts to blend.
[Personality Crisis - New York Dolls]
He watches fists fly, blood spraying from a cut lip, bruises forming around eyes. He should say something, this is the sort of "policing" he had sacked people for, back when what he said mattered. Instead he does nothing, remains quiet while anger erupts from his DCI, from his... he wasn't quite sure what.
He should stop this, but he doesn't. 1973 is changing him, and he's not sure if he likes what he is becoming. Two worlds collide, his future? his past? mingling with his present. He should stop Gene, but he sits back and lets it happen.
ii. Now you found out that it's a habit that sticks and you're an orgasm addict.
[Orgasm Addict - The Buzzcocks] (oh, perfect!!!)
His hand feels coarse, rough in the slip-slide against his skin. He thrusts into the heat, sweat collecting at the base of his throat. He thinks of Gene pushing him up against a cabinet, his eyes blazing, and moans his name.
He draws ever closer, his hand pumping faster and harder as he approaches the brink. When did this become his life, quick wanks every night in his shitty flat, and why can't he stop it?
iii. Your name isn't Rio, but I don't care for sand.
[I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor - Arctic Monkeys]
He feels Sam behind him as they both dance, back to back. Feels the roll of his hips, the twitch of his shoulders. He should be concentrating on the bird in front of him, she was pretty enough. Big tits, nice blue eyes. Before that poncy little tosser came into his life, he knows he would have been focussing on the cheap tart, and more specifically, getting into her tiny shorts.
But now, that isn't what he notices. Now it's Tyler's movements behind him. He wonders if Tyler is paying full attention to his floozy, or if he's noticing the exact same thing. He closes his eyes for a second, images flooding his mind. He knows that Sam Tyler would look good on the dancefloor.
iv. He is set to, set to, self-destruct.
[Instant Hit - The Slits]
He doesn't know why he needs this, why he craves the flash of anger in Gene's eyes, the growl under the surface of his voice as he shouts, the feel of his hands as he throws him against something. He could become addicted to this, he probably already has. He can't not seek it out, provoking him, contradicting him. Making sure he knew he was wrong and that Sam Tyler was right. Seeking the connection of fist to stomach, the spray of spit when he yells.
v. She knows what she came for.
[What She Came For - Franz Ferdinand]
He pulled the cigarette from his lips as he watched the two of them. His slim hips, pounding. Her legs spreading further, letting him in. He shouldn't have put it past her, she was always more cluey than he gave her credit for. Really, her and Tyler were birds of a feather, always talking back, fighting him every step of the way. Always making his life difficult. Still, their similarities had their advantages, they were both very pretty to watch, and not all that shy at letting him do just that. He shouldn't have worried, his wife would never let him have something she couldn't have as well.
vi. Can you rumble in the dust of masochistic lust?
[1 of the 2 - The Damned]
It was a slippery slope, this. Tyler had an effect on him that he wasn't entirely comfortable with, that he couldn't escape. The stolen moments of time, quick shags in the collator's den, weren't enough, but at the same time couldn't be anymore. He was risking enough as it was, his career, his mates, his missus. But as Tyler moaned beneath him and bucked his hips back, moaning like a cheap prozzie, he thought that maybe the way down wasn't that bad.
vii. I will slap you around.
[Tick Tick Boom - The Hives]
"You think you know everything, don't you Tyler?"
"I know I'm right about this. I..."
He'd had enough of this. He punched the little git, winding him. He watched as Sam bended over, but wasn't all that surprised to see him look back up, the fight still in the git's squinty gaze. He grabbed his shoulders and pinned him against the wall, lifting his knee and introducing it to Tyler's groin. He'd done this before, he'd done this countless times, but still Tyler never learns. He watched Tyler regain his breath and open his mouth to speak, smacking him one in the face before any words can escape.
viii. I've seen the nights filled with bloodsport and pain, and the bodies obtained.
[Day Of The Lords - Joy Division]
The siege had been going on for hours. He could feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins, itching to escape. He looked around, vaguely heard Gene tell him to stay the hell where he was. He could never obey that man for too long.
He though he might have been able to talk the blagger down. He rose from his spot crouched behind the counter and said something. He can't quite remember what it was now. The sound of gun fire ripped through the air. He felt a giant weight tackle him to the ground, felt his head connect sickeningly with the floor. Then all he could see was darkness.
It wasn't until later that he found out. Found out that the weight colliding with his was Gene, that he had only escaped the bullet because Gene had taken it instead. Now he walks the halls, frustrated that the doctor's haven't released him and steadily avoiding room 101. He wasn't ready to face what lay inside.
ix. He's outta sight.
[Suffragette City - David Bowie]
"As far as your ideas go Tyler, this'd have to be one of the dafter ones."
"Come on, it's not like we know anyone here."
"I'll have you know I have cousins in Blackpool."
"Well, they're not likely to come here are they?"
"I don't know. I wouldn't put it past one of them..."
"Look, are you going to whinge all night, or are you going to do what we came here for?"
"I don't whinge Tyler. And it might be what you came here for, but I have much more dignity than that."
"Fine." Before he could reply the little git had left his stool and swaggered over to the dance floor, shaking his arse for all the lecherous old perves to see, and started grinding his hips in time to the music.
x. I am an anarchist.
[Anarchy in the UK - The Sex Pistols]
The little git had been secretive all day, evasive about his plans for night, even going so far as to turn down a drunken night of whiskey and handcuffs. He hadn't even turned up at the Arms, stupid twat. Paranoid thoughts threatened to surface but he kicked them to the back of his mind where they belonged. Once you had the Gene Genie, you're left wanting more, not looking elsewhere. Still, it wouldn't hurt to go round to Tyler's place and kick ten types of shit out of him.
***
He heard the git before he saw him, some off-key prattling about bodies fucking things. He wasn't a detective for nothing, and could tell that the ponce was well-bladdered. He could feel the anger rising,a nd clenched his fists, itching to pund the little git when he came into view. He just didn't expect him to do so wearing torn jeans, safety pins in his jacket and his hair spikier than the top of a pineapple.
Stolen from gritsinmisery and wyvernwolf:
Post a single sentence from each WIP you have (or as many as you want to pick). No context, no explanations. No more than one sentence! (They're all untitled at this point).
Life on Mars
1. Maybe the supposed past utopia was more wishful thinking than reality, but it was better than thinking that this was it.
2. "You had to know it was coming."
Life on Mars/Ashes to Ashes
1. The little tart was driving him spare, and short of throwing him down and fucking him in the midst of the writhing bodies there was only one thing he could do.
Life on Mars/The Devil's Whore
1. "Sure, I'd love a whole conga line of rabbits bouncing up and down to the fucking Spice Girls, but do you think you could untie me first?"
Being Human
1. He doesn't know why he doesn't throw it away, toss it in the bin to be discarded with the rest of the rubbish.
State of Play
1. He wasn't the only one that Stephen's fucked over.
Doctor Who
1. He heard the click of high heels approach him, he felt the bed dip slightly next to his head, he felt her breath as words spilled from her mouth so close to his ear.
This one was snagged from a fair few people over at the Skins comms.
1. Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like.
2. Turn your music player on and turn it on random/shuffle.
3. Write a drabble/ficlet related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish the drabble; you start when the song starts, and stop when it's over. No lingering afterward!
4. Do ten of these, then post them.
Fandom: Life on Mars
Pairing: Sam/Gene (and Sam/The Missus/Gene in one case)
Ratings: PG through to NC-17 (Blue to Brown Cortina)
Warnings: masturbation, voyeurism, violence, swearing, angst
i. When your mind starts to blend.
[Personality Crisis - New York Dolls]
He watches fists fly, blood spraying from a cut lip, bruises forming around eyes. He should say something, this is the sort of "policing" he had sacked people for, back when what he said mattered. Instead he does nothing, remains quiet while anger erupts from his DCI, from his... he wasn't quite sure what.
He should stop this, but he doesn't. 1973 is changing him, and he's not sure if he likes what he is becoming. Two worlds collide, his future? his past? mingling with his present. He should stop Gene, but he sits back and lets it happen.
ii. Now you found out that it's a habit that sticks and you're an orgasm addict.
[Orgasm Addict - The Buzzcocks] (oh, perfect!!!)
His hand feels coarse, rough in the slip-slide against his skin. He thrusts into the heat, sweat collecting at the base of his throat. He thinks of Gene pushing him up against a cabinet, his eyes blazing, and moans his name.
He draws ever closer, his hand pumping faster and harder as he approaches the brink. When did this become his life, quick wanks every night in his shitty flat, and why can't he stop it?
iii. Your name isn't Rio, but I don't care for sand.
[I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor - Arctic Monkeys]
He feels Sam behind him as they both dance, back to back. Feels the roll of his hips, the twitch of his shoulders. He should be concentrating on the bird in front of him, she was pretty enough. Big tits, nice blue eyes. Before that poncy little tosser came into his life, he knows he would have been focussing on the cheap tart, and more specifically, getting into her tiny shorts.
But now, that isn't what he notices. Now it's Tyler's movements behind him. He wonders if Tyler is paying full attention to his floozy, or if he's noticing the exact same thing. He closes his eyes for a second, images flooding his mind. He knows that Sam Tyler would look good on the dancefloor.
iv. He is set to, set to, self-destruct.
[Instant Hit - The Slits]
He doesn't know why he needs this, why he craves the flash of anger in Gene's eyes, the growl under the surface of his voice as he shouts, the feel of his hands as he throws him against something. He could become addicted to this, he probably already has. He can't not seek it out, provoking him, contradicting him. Making sure he knew he was wrong and that Sam Tyler was right. Seeking the connection of fist to stomach, the spray of spit when he yells.
v. She knows what she came for.
[What She Came For - Franz Ferdinand]
He pulled the cigarette from his lips as he watched the two of them. His slim hips, pounding. Her legs spreading further, letting him in. He shouldn't have put it past her, she was always more cluey than he gave her credit for. Really, her and Tyler were birds of a feather, always talking back, fighting him every step of the way. Always making his life difficult. Still, their similarities had their advantages, they were both very pretty to watch, and not all that shy at letting him do just that. He shouldn't have worried, his wife would never let him have something she couldn't have as well.
vi. Can you rumble in the dust of masochistic lust?
[1 of the 2 - The Damned]
It was a slippery slope, this. Tyler had an effect on him that he wasn't entirely comfortable with, that he couldn't escape. The stolen moments of time, quick shags in the collator's den, weren't enough, but at the same time couldn't be anymore. He was risking enough as it was, his career, his mates, his missus. But as Tyler moaned beneath him and bucked his hips back, moaning like a cheap prozzie, he thought that maybe the way down wasn't that bad.
vii. I will slap you around.
[Tick Tick Boom - The Hives]
"You think you know everything, don't you Tyler?"
"I know I'm right about this. I..."
He'd had enough of this. He punched the little git, winding him. He watched as Sam bended over, but wasn't all that surprised to see him look back up, the fight still in the git's squinty gaze. He grabbed his shoulders and pinned him against the wall, lifting his knee and introducing it to Tyler's groin. He'd done this before, he'd done this countless times, but still Tyler never learns. He watched Tyler regain his breath and open his mouth to speak, smacking him one in the face before any words can escape.
viii. I've seen the nights filled with bloodsport and pain, and the bodies obtained.
[Day Of The Lords - Joy Division]
The siege had been going on for hours. He could feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins, itching to escape. He looked around, vaguely heard Gene tell him to stay the hell where he was. He could never obey that man for too long.
He though he might have been able to talk the blagger down. He rose from his spot crouched behind the counter and said something. He can't quite remember what it was now. The sound of gun fire ripped through the air. He felt a giant weight tackle him to the ground, felt his head connect sickeningly with the floor. Then all he could see was darkness.
It wasn't until later that he found out. Found out that the weight colliding with his was Gene, that he had only escaped the bullet because Gene had taken it instead. Now he walks the halls, frustrated that the doctor's haven't released him and steadily avoiding room 101. He wasn't ready to face what lay inside.
ix. He's outta sight.
[Suffragette City - David Bowie]
"As far as your ideas go Tyler, this'd have to be one of the dafter ones."
"Come on, it's not like we know anyone here."
"I'll have you know I have cousins in Blackpool."
"Well, they're not likely to come here are they?"
"I don't know. I wouldn't put it past one of them..."
"Look, are you going to whinge all night, or are you going to do what we came here for?"
"I don't whinge Tyler. And it might be what you came here for, but I have much more dignity than that."
"Fine." Before he could reply the little git had left his stool and swaggered over to the dance floor, shaking his arse for all the lecherous old perves to see, and started grinding his hips in time to the music.
x. I am an anarchist.
[Anarchy in the UK - The Sex Pistols]
The little git had been secretive all day, evasive about his plans for night, even going so far as to turn down a drunken night of whiskey and handcuffs. He hadn't even turned up at the Arms, stupid twat. Paranoid thoughts threatened to surface but he kicked them to the back of his mind where they belonged. Once you had the Gene Genie, you're left wanting more, not looking elsewhere. Still, it wouldn't hurt to go round to Tyler's place and kick ten types of shit out of him.
***
He heard the git before he saw him, some off-key prattling about bodies fucking things. He wasn't a detective for nothing, and could tell that the ponce was well-bladdered. He could feel the anger rising,a nd clenched his fists, itching to pund the little git when he came into view. He just didn't expect him to do so wearing torn jeans, safety pins in his jacket and his hair spikier than the top of a pineapple.