2 Fic Memes.
Meme time!
First meme:
Post the first sentence (or three) from every WIP you're currently working on, even if it's very short. Then invite people to ask questions about your WIPs. With any luck, you'll get talking about writing, and the motivation to take that WIP one step closer to completion will appear as if by magic!
Fanfic:
"Eat." (Motormaster/Breakdown)
When Motormaster came into the Decepticons' common room after a cube of energon, there were half a dozen mechs clustered around the IMAX screen the planet's earlier Decepticon arrivals had "liberated" from a nearby theatre. The program, at first glance, looked to be featuring the absolute worst computer animation known to sentience, and pure incredulous disdain kept Motormaster watching while the screen shifted to show some sort of really ugly swimming things that were mostly blobs with tails. Shaking his head at the assembled mechs---some people really had too much time on their hands---he turned to fill an energon cube.
----
"Infinities: Megatron:" (Implied Megatron/everybody)
It's late, and Megatron is tired. Starscream has just departed, loudly and defiantly, from the command center, this side of a scathing comment about the relative intelligence of Megatron and some presumeably-organic thing called a "cow." Megatron, for his part, is sufficiently exhausted by the just-ended battle that Starscream has managed to avoid physical retribution for anything he's said tonight, simply by not coming within reach---and he's smart enough, blast him, to take advantage of it.
----
"Three Golf Balls on the Moon:" (gen humor fic)
"Some humans believe that when they die they get wings."
Thundercracker looked over at Skywarp, cocking an optic ridge. Starscream smirked, fluttering his own wings slightly. "Not as good as ours, I'll bet."
"Nope, feathery ones." Skywarp looked back to the computer terminal. "Like birds."
----
"What Happens in the Medbay, Stays in the Medbay" (Hook/Skywarp)
It was a relatively common occurrance aboard the Nemesis---Skywarp had played a prank on someone whose sense of humor was somewhat limited when he himself was the butt of the joke, and was making his way to the medbay to repair the damage resulting therefrom.
Everybody knew it wouldn't dissuade him any; nobody cared enough to forego the satisfaction of revenge. And only a rare few knew it actually encouraged him.
----
"April Fools" (gen humor fic, hinted pairings)
Megatron was dreaming uneasily that he was back at the frozen polar region of the planet he currently inhabited. Half-lucid, he found it comparatively favorable to the dreams where he was frozen in the humans' military base, and definitely preferable to the ones where he was stuck at the bottom of the planet's oceans---Primus damn, but he hated those . . . but comparisons did not change the fact that being frozen in ice anywhere was not pleasant in the slightest.
Slowly, the ice warmed, though, and he relaxed and slept deeper, returning to the dream sequence to wonder why the snow was still there as the temperature rose to comfortable levels. He didn't think it was supposed to do that . . . oddly enough, it seemed to be accumulating rather than melting . . .
Megatron jerked out of recharge to find himself covered with white, fluffy foam.
----
(Untitled, in which Megatron gets off on Starscream's takeover attempts---as a submissive.) (Starscream/Megatron)
"That is indeed so, Starscream," Megatron says, the picture of indolence, not bothering to turn around to address his second-in-command, and he can hear Starscream's irritated frustration. He'd rather see it, of course, but the Seeker can't stand being ignored. For Megatron to keep his back turned is an invitation for Starscream to shoot him, but Starscream doesn't, and Megatron tries again.
----
"Favor the Bold" (Sunstreaker/Sideswipe/Starscream, Megatron/Sunstreaker/Sideswipe, Starscream/Megatron)
"I think we're lost." Sunstreaker, mildly upset.
"We're not lost." Sideswipe, insouciant and oblivious, as usual.
"You're sure?" Dubious, the yellow twin followed his brother, taking care to keep his voice down.
"Yes."
"OK, where does that corridor go?"
"Ummm . . ."
"I knew it. We're lost."
"We are not lost. We just don't quite know where we are."
"Great. Has it occurred to you that perhaps the Decepticon base is NOT the ideal place to be lost in?"
"Relax, Sunny, we keep walking, we'll find something recognizable."
"Or, worse and therefore more likely, someone recognizable. Someone with a fusion cannon, perhaps, and do you have any idea what that'll do to my paint job?"
----
"All the Times I Never Let You Down" (Megatron/Starscream)
Laserfire screams above Starscream's head; explosions rock the ground and he goes airborne to escape the tremors while groundbound mechs stagger and fall. In the sky he is lord of all he surveys, confident, glorious, never more alive---and never more deadly. Autobot flyers engage him vicously; he twists and turns and shoots and whoops with delight; the deadly aerial sport leaves him scorched but uninjured, and alone in his section of sky. Swooping low to strafe Autobots with nullray fire, he shrugs off more mild hits, not registering the pain. Beneath him, behind him, Autobots crumple to the ground, temporarily paralyzed; he leaves them for others to clean up, and if their medics get to them before the Decepticon ground forces do, well, so what?
----
"Motormaster's Awesome Day" Chapter Seven: (Various pairings)
He was halfway back to the Nemesis, flying high over the Pacific Ocean, when Motormaster realized that Prime had neglected to confiscate the remaining energon. Or, perhaps he had assumed that to be included in Motormaster's demands for leaving the humans unscathed. Either way, Motormaster landed with a degree of satisfaction, letting Rumble and Frenzy carry the energon out of his trailer and handing it off to Mixmaster before heading back to the medbay.
Whereupon, the first thing he saw was a familiar set of rotors---Vortex, very much no longer in the brig, was leaning casually against an exam table flirting with Scavenger.
----
"The Morning Report" Chapter 7 (Lots of pairings!)
It was a few hours later when Optimus returned to the security center; he'd gotten the signatures from Megatron and dealt with as much of the fallout of their lateness as he could, and now he was in a mood to relax. The student, Prowl, was very much in his thoughts: he was obviously quite shy and nervous, not the type who was used to getting caught at troublemaking, and Optimus thought he might appreciate some reassurance . . . and possibly another overload, mutual this time.
----
"The Other Side of Heaven," Dukes of Hazzard (TV show) fanfic (Nonphysical Roscoe/the General Lee)
Sheriff Roscoe P. Coltrane slid into the driver's seat of the General Lee like a lover coming home, all set to steal it from his own impound lot.
----
Original fic, mostly untitled:
Once upon a time, a girl went to Faeryland to get rid of bullies, although she didn't precisely set out to do that, and the bullies she got rid of turned out not to be the ones she was thinking of when she went there.
----
The skies of the upper in-between place, which the People called the Lower Glory and the Forsaken called the Shimmering Halls, were beautiful and deadly, with misty clouds in every color and hue and consistency, showers of silken rainfall, and bright sudden storms that played at random across the vast expanse of sky. An angel named Meraki was patrolling it, with her blade held in hand and dripping already with blood and ichor, the red and deep purple mingled and a few drops spattered onto her skin; the ichor stung a bit. One did not sheathe one's blade, here.
----
Every morning, before work, Aniak Lee climbed Illyria Pinnacle.
Not for the exercise, though it was very, very good for that; nor for recreation, though she loved cliff-climbing; rather, for the ability to take off from the very top of it, as though she lived there.
It was the first perfect glory of her day: to stand at the peak, feel the warmth of the sun soak into her and the icy wind tug at her body, and take off from it, plunging down towards the street-levels and spreading her wings to catch air at terminal velocity, pinion-struts straining and the occasional low-flying pedestrian dodging out of her way with a slur on her ancestry and perhaps a flung coffee-cup---at which point she could deliver a littering citation before she even clocked in.
----
________ put the silver knife in the back pocket of her jeans before she took the four-pound porterhouse out to the werewolf. They tipped well, as a general rule, but it was that time of the month when they started getting hungry for things not on the menu.
The werewolf was a big man, all bulging muscles and a cascade of silver-shot hair that probably made a lot of women as much jealous as interested. No fur on him yet, thank gods---she shot a quick glance out the window as she headed for his booth, judging the roundness of the moon. Gibbous, still, and most likely for all of tonight.
Those nights when the moon shifted to full when it was on this side of the horizon took quite a toll on those misinformed people who thought the full moon started at moonrise on Full Moon Night. She didn't want to be one of them.
----
"Magic," said the lecturer, her voice resonant through the auditorium without any magical help, such were the flawless acoustics of the eight-hundred-year-old architecture, "is imprecise. You may find it simple, a mind-numbingly easy matter of thinking of what you want, but this, as many of you are certain to discover to your misfortune, is highly incorrect. Should one presume oneself able to light a candle simply by thinking of fire, one is more likely to conjure up a raging inferno and burn down one's entire residence hall."
----
It was a dark and stormy night, and Eliset May was of course out in it, because what kind of ridiculous person would stay inside when there was bright jagged lightning and booming thunder and deliciously frigid pelting raindrops coming down at you like the kisses of a sadomasochist angel?
----
The oldest wizard in Panavar went out at dawn to gather salflowers.
She was fifty-three years old, and she lived in a small hut on the side of a steep hill overlooking a waterfall which thundered in the spring, dried up in the late summer, and froze solid in winter; there were two hundred and fifty-seven steps down to the round pool beneath the waterfall, not counting thirty-seven tree roots, forty-one rocks too rounded, crumbled, or half-there to count as steps, and a great deal of sloping dirt-or-mud pathway she'd never figured out how to measure.
Second meme:
If there was a kinky scenario you could request me to write, what would it be? Please be as specific as possible.
First meme:
Post the first sentence (or three) from every WIP you're currently working on, even if it's very short. Then invite people to ask questions about your WIPs. With any luck, you'll get talking about writing, and the motivation to take that WIP one step closer to completion will appear as if by magic!
Fanfic:
"Eat." (Motormaster/Breakdown)
When Motormaster came into the Decepticons' common room after a cube of energon, there were half a dozen mechs clustered around the IMAX screen the planet's earlier Decepticon arrivals had "liberated" from a nearby theatre. The program, at first glance, looked to be featuring the absolute worst computer animation known to sentience, and pure incredulous disdain kept Motormaster watching while the screen shifted to show some sort of really ugly swimming things that were mostly blobs with tails. Shaking his head at the assembled mechs---some people really had too much time on their hands---he turned to fill an energon cube.
----
"Infinities: Megatron:" (Implied Megatron/everybody)
It's late, and Megatron is tired. Starscream has just departed, loudly and defiantly, from the command center, this side of a scathing comment about the relative intelligence of Megatron and some presumeably-organic thing called a "cow." Megatron, for his part, is sufficiently exhausted by the just-ended battle that Starscream has managed to avoid physical retribution for anything he's said tonight, simply by not coming within reach---and he's smart enough, blast him, to take advantage of it.
----
"Three Golf Balls on the Moon:" (gen humor fic)
"Some humans believe that when they die they get wings."
Thundercracker looked over at Skywarp, cocking an optic ridge. Starscream smirked, fluttering his own wings slightly. "Not as good as ours, I'll bet."
"Nope, feathery ones." Skywarp looked back to the computer terminal. "Like birds."
----
"What Happens in the Medbay, Stays in the Medbay" (Hook/Skywarp)
It was a relatively common occurrance aboard the Nemesis---Skywarp had played a prank on someone whose sense of humor was somewhat limited when he himself was the butt of the joke, and was making his way to the medbay to repair the damage resulting therefrom.
Everybody knew it wouldn't dissuade him any; nobody cared enough to forego the satisfaction of revenge. And only a rare few knew it actually encouraged him.
----
"April Fools" (gen humor fic, hinted pairings)
Megatron was dreaming uneasily that he was back at the frozen polar region of the planet he currently inhabited. Half-lucid, he found it comparatively favorable to the dreams where he was frozen in the humans' military base, and definitely preferable to the ones where he was stuck at the bottom of the planet's oceans---Primus damn, but he hated those . . . but comparisons did not change the fact that being frozen in ice anywhere was not pleasant in the slightest.
Slowly, the ice warmed, though, and he relaxed and slept deeper, returning to the dream sequence to wonder why the snow was still there as the temperature rose to comfortable levels. He didn't think it was supposed to do that . . . oddly enough, it seemed to be accumulating rather than melting . . .
Megatron jerked out of recharge to find himself covered with white, fluffy foam.
----
(Untitled, in which Megatron gets off on Starscream's takeover attempts---as a submissive.) (Starscream/Megatron)
"That is indeed so, Starscream," Megatron says, the picture of indolence, not bothering to turn around to address his second-in-command, and he can hear Starscream's irritated frustration. He'd rather see it, of course, but the Seeker can't stand being ignored. For Megatron to keep his back turned is an invitation for Starscream to shoot him, but Starscream doesn't, and Megatron tries again.
----
"Favor the Bold" (Sunstreaker/Sideswipe/Starscream, Megatron/Sunstreaker/Sideswipe, Starscream/Megatron)
"I think we're lost." Sunstreaker, mildly upset.
"We're not lost." Sideswipe, insouciant and oblivious, as usual.
"You're sure?" Dubious, the yellow twin followed his brother, taking care to keep his voice down.
"Yes."
"OK, where does that corridor go?"
"Ummm . . ."
"I knew it. We're lost."
"We are not lost. We just don't quite know where we are."
"Great. Has it occurred to you that perhaps the Decepticon base is NOT the ideal place to be lost in?"
"Relax, Sunny, we keep walking, we'll find something recognizable."
"Or, worse and therefore more likely, someone recognizable. Someone with a fusion cannon, perhaps, and do you have any idea what that'll do to my paint job?"
----
"All the Times I Never Let You Down" (Megatron/Starscream)
Laserfire screams above Starscream's head; explosions rock the ground and he goes airborne to escape the tremors while groundbound mechs stagger and fall. In the sky he is lord of all he surveys, confident, glorious, never more alive---and never more deadly. Autobot flyers engage him vicously; he twists and turns and shoots and whoops with delight; the deadly aerial sport leaves him scorched but uninjured, and alone in his section of sky. Swooping low to strafe Autobots with nullray fire, he shrugs off more mild hits, not registering the pain. Beneath him, behind him, Autobots crumple to the ground, temporarily paralyzed; he leaves them for others to clean up, and if their medics get to them before the Decepticon ground forces do, well, so what?
----
"Motormaster's Awesome Day" Chapter Seven: (Various pairings)
He was halfway back to the Nemesis, flying high over the Pacific Ocean, when Motormaster realized that Prime had neglected to confiscate the remaining energon. Or, perhaps he had assumed that to be included in Motormaster's demands for leaving the humans unscathed. Either way, Motormaster landed with a degree of satisfaction, letting Rumble and Frenzy carry the energon out of his trailer and handing it off to Mixmaster before heading back to the medbay.
Whereupon, the first thing he saw was a familiar set of rotors---Vortex, very much no longer in the brig, was leaning casually against an exam table flirting with Scavenger.
----
"The Morning Report" Chapter 7 (Lots of pairings!)
It was a few hours later when Optimus returned to the security center; he'd gotten the signatures from Megatron and dealt with as much of the fallout of their lateness as he could, and now he was in a mood to relax. The student, Prowl, was very much in his thoughts: he was obviously quite shy and nervous, not the type who was used to getting caught at troublemaking, and Optimus thought he might appreciate some reassurance . . . and possibly another overload, mutual this time.
----
"The Other Side of Heaven," Dukes of Hazzard (TV show) fanfic (Nonphysical Roscoe/the General Lee)
Sheriff Roscoe P. Coltrane slid into the driver's seat of the General Lee like a lover coming home, all set to steal it from his own impound lot.
----
Original fic, mostly untitled:
Once upon a time, a girl went to Faeryland to get rid of bullies, although she didn't precisely set out to do that, and the bullies she got rid of turned out not to be the ones she was thinking of when she went there.
----
The skies of the upper in-between place, which the People called the Lower Glory and the Forsaken called the Shimmering Halls, were beautiful and deadly, with misty clouds in every color and hue and consistency, showers of silken rainfall, and bright sudden storms that played at random across the vast expanse of sky. An angel named Meraki was patrolling it, with her blade held in hand and dripping already with blood and ichor, the red and deep purple mingled and a few drops spattered onto her skin; the ichor stung a bit. One did not sheathe one's blade, here.
----
Every morning, before work, Aniak Lee climbed Illyria Pinnacle.
Not for the exercise, though it was very, very good for that; nor for recreation, though she loved cliff-climbing; rather, for the ability to take off from the very top of it, as though she lived there.
It was the first perfect glory of her day: to stand at the peak, feel the warmth of the sun soak into her and the icy wind tug at her body, and take off from it, plunging down towards the street-levels and spreading her wings to catch air at terminal velocity, pinion-struts straining and the occasional low-flying pedestrian dodging out of her way with a slur on her ancestry and perhaps a flung coffee-cup---at which point she could deliver a littering citation before she even clocked in.
----
________ put the silver knife in the back pocket of her jeans before she took the four-pound porterhouse out to the werewolf. They tipped well, as a general rule, but it was that time of the month when they started getting hungry for things not on the menu.
The werewolf was a big man, all bulging muscles and a cascade of silver-shot hair that probably made a lot of women as much jealous as interested. No fur on him yet, thank gods---she shot a quick glance out the window as she headed for his booth, judging the roundness of the moon. Gibbous, still, and most likely for all of tonight.
Those nights when the moon shifted to full when it was on this side of the horizon took quite a toll on those misinformed people who thought the full moon started at moonrise on Full Moon Night. She didn't want to be one of them.
----
"Magic," said the lecturer, her voice resonant through the auditorium without any magical help, such were the flawless acoustics of the eight-hundred-year-old architecture, "is imprecise. You may find it simple, a mind-numbingly easy matter of thinking of what you want, but this, as many of you are certain to discover to your misfortune, is highly incorrect. Should one presume oneself able to light a candle simply by thinking of fire, one is more likely to conjure up a raging inferno and burn down one's entire residence hall."
----
It was a dark and stormy night, and Eliset May was of course out in it, because what kind of ridiculous person would stay inside when there was bright jagged lightning and booming thunder and deliciously frigid pelting raindrops coming down at you like the kisses of a sadomasochist angel?
----
The oldest wizard in Panavar went out at dawn to gather salflowers.
She was fifty-three years old, and she lived in a small hut on the side of a steep hill overlooking a waterfall which thundered in the spring, dried up in the late summer, and froze solid in winter; there were two hundred and fifty-seven steps down to the round pool beneath the waterfall, not counting thirty-seven tree roots, forty-one rocks too rounded, crumbled, or half-there to count as steps, and a great deal of sloping dirt-or-mud pathway she'd never figured out how to measure.
Second meme:
If there was a kinky scenario you could request me to write, what would it be? Please be as specific as possible.