i'm running out of things to use as titles.
Taken from misskass.
When you see this, post a little weensy excerpt from as many random works-in-progress as you can find lying around. Who knows? Maybe inspiration will burst forth and do something, um, inspiration-y.
This is going to be long and painful for you~
Naruto: This was sort of a continuation of a drabble-type thing .. never really panned out how I wanted it to.
It is one month and seventeen days before he betrays Naruto for the last time, and Naruto is asleep in his bed. Silenced in sleep, and Sasuke thinks he might be in love. There’s sunlight coming in the window and a shock of golden hair spread out across his pillow, and just then Naruto is the sunlight. And bright blue eyes slide open and that fox grin spreads slow across his cheeks and for a moment-just a moment-Sasuke questions himself.
RPF: I've kind of fallen out of the realm of JRock fic, but this one somehow is still floating around my computer.
Two days. That was how long it took them to start fucking again after the breakup - silly, isn’t it? That’s what Kai always thought. Why bother to go through the motions of breaking up if all you were going to do was fuck in bathrooms and against dark alley walls at every available chance? But that was what Aoi wanted. That was what he said he could do - he couldn’t do the commitment, he said. He couldn’t let anyone own him. Kai thought it was bullshit, but he’d lost his voice in their non-relationship.
D.Gray-man: One of my in-progress Lavi/Allen week fics.
It was a million years ago, though, and now Allen is a child no longer. It seems that he’s grown up in the last few days, the last few months, maybe faster than he’s ever grown up before. He grew up fast when he was cursed, when he learned how to endure the deep suffering of an Akuma’s soul - when he joined the Order - when Tyki reached into his body and tried to rip out his heart, he’d thought that was growing up, but that was nothing.
Death Note: Clearly I have no capacity to finish anything. This was originally a fic for my friend Amelia, but it sorta .. fell through the cracks.
In any other time, Light Yagami and L might have been friends. In another time-another century, maybe-when the fate of the world didn’t rest on their respective goals, when they weren’t bitter rivals working against each other in this twisted game of tag. They were both intelligent, though L lacked some certain... social graces that Light posessed; they both appreciated justice, though they went about in different ways. In another time, there might have been camaraderie between them. Friendship, even.
Havemercy: This is probably the least-finished INC work I have right now.
Rook sleeps curled into himself, his knees drawn up to his chest and his arms crossed. Thom knows, because he’s spent the last month watching him do just that.
Gundam 00: This one will probably be finished within a couple of days -- it's more fic for electrumicity.
It isn’t a logical fear. He loves Allelujah and he knows that Allelujah loves him, but Lockon’s nothing if not a little selfish, and he wants it to be his name that Allelujah moans, him that Allelujah’s thinking of when he jerks off in the shower.
And now we move into the wonderful world of ~*ORIGINAL FICTION*~!
Eine Kleine Nachtmusik: I don't really know what I was thinking when I started writing this .. it's some kind of 1984-styled dystopian thing.
Their wounds are rotted, and the room smells of death. There isn’t enough air in the building, not enough space, and that kind of darkness and closeness breeds decay. Even with Axiom and Fury there, there is nothing to be done, not with the sort of damage that has been done.
“There,” Fury finally says, passing her hand over the eyes of the last dead girl. “That’s the last of them. Bring Maddox in here, will you?”
Axiom steps into the hallway. When he returns, he trails behind him another young man, tall and wiry. When the door closes behind him, he begins to pace, his footsteps sounding too-loud in the silence. When Fury thinks, she is stock-still; when Maddox thinks, he paces.
“They’re all dead,” Fury says softly, sitting back on her heels and resting her elbows on her knees.
Maddox stops his pacing and crouches against the wall, his hands buried deep in his hair. “How many?” he asks softly, his voice dripping sadness and pain.
“Four.” Axiom’s voice is harder than Fury’s. “There are four of them. Michael and Eon-the twins-and Clary and Alyce. The guards got them. They lasted six days in here before the last of them died.”
Skin Poetry: I started this as a part of a timed writing challenge that Purgchat did (or really, just me and Leah and Rel and Kaji) and never got around to finishing it.
He recites poetry against my skin, sometimes, in the fire-bright sunset pouring in through the stained glass I painted. Stanzas upon stanzas, and Eli tells me they rhyme in Hebrew but not in English, which is fine, because I like the way the syllables feel against my navel, my hip, the side of my throat. His fingertips are languid, and days like these, it feels like we’ll never make it out of bed.
Later, I brush quiet fingers over the places that his lips have touched, still warm, like there are brands there under my skin. Like his mouth has become a furnace, and I wonder what it means - I like listening to him speak, but I want to know what secrets he’s telling my body without me even knowing. I want to carve the words into my skin, indelible, so that I’ll never forget them.
City, 2 am: Another thing that has uncertain origins.
I crash-landed on top of Mary at the bottom of the hill, and we were both laughing, covered in pollen and grass and dandelions and laughing our heads off like we’d both gone mental. We curled up against each other, huddling for warmth, and then we were kissing through numb lips, because girls are girls and sometimes we do things like that.
“Are you guys making out?” Sean shouted from halfway up the hill.
“No!” Mary and I both replied in unison, and then dissolved into giggles once again.
The next morning, all I would remember from that night would be flashbulb memories: The heat of the smoke in my lungs, the way the flame illuminated Sean’s face, and the happy, carefree miles I spent flying down the hill with the wind in my face.
Untitled: The file name for this one is currently Hello I Am Lesbian Porn, if that gives you any idea of what I write in my spare time.
She gives me this look, like she isn’t sure whether she should laugh or dissolve totally into tears. Instead, she settles for a third route - leaning over and planting her lips firmly on mine.
It’s not like I don’t understand the sentiment. We’re starved for basic human kindness, a lot of the time, and it’s not like we can turn to each other when everyone around you is just as fucked-up and broken as you are. It creates a weird cycle - you start to fall in love with anyone who shows you kindness in a moment of vulnerability, and that was exactly, I’m sure, what Jess feels in that moment. I let her kiss me for a second; hell, maybe I even kiss back, because this is a lonely job. I kiss a lot of people, but never anyone that I like. And then I push her away, slowly but firmly.
“I would advise against that,” I say, giving her a tired smile.
“What-who-why?”
“To be honest, little lady? You’re a beautiful girl, and this is a very compromising situation. I’ve got no plans to take advantage of you, but you need to not test my self-control.”
Laugh Alone: This is my NaNoWriMo 08 fic. So it's technically not unfinished, just unedited. Whatever.
Ben was the type of guy that all the guys wanted to be friends with and all the girls just plain wanted. I guess there’s something attractive to them about the whole quiet, slightly dazed artist type, and that was basically Ben in a nutshell-quiet, always a little bit out of it, and definitely artsy. He had paint on his hands that day, a stripe of yellow across his right knuckles and flecks of violet on his left wrist. He must’ve been using acrylics in art class.
“I’m going to buy a planet,” Ben said, startling me out of my daze. “A small one, just big enough for the three of us.” He looked over at me and smiled, that loose, lazy smile that always looked just this side of a grin, but not quite. “And we could all go take a nap there.”
I just stared at him. I should’ve been used to this kind of weirdness from him, but it never ceased to take me by surprise.
When you see this, post a little weensy excerpt from as many random works-in-progress as you can find lying around. Who knows? Maybe inspiration will burst forth and do something, um, inspiration-y.
This is going to be long and painful for you~
Naruto: This was sort of a continuation of a drabble-type thing .. never really panned out how I wanted it to.
It is one month and seventeen days before he betrays Naruto for the last time, and Naruto is asleep in his bed. Silenced in sleep, and Sasuke thinks he might be in love. There’s sunlight coming in the window and a shock of golden hair spread out across his pillow, and just then Naruto is the sunlight. And bright blue eyes slide open and that fox grin spreads slow across his cheeks and for a moment-just a moment-Sasuke questions himself.
RPF: I've kind of fallen out of the realm of JRock fic, but this one somehow is still floating around my computer.
Two days. That was how long it took them to start fucking again after the breakup - silly, isn’t it? That’s what Kai always thought. Why bother to go through the motions of breaking up if all you were going to do was fuck in bathrooms and against dark alley walls at every available chance? But that was what Aoi wanted. That was what he said he could do - he couldn’t do the commitment, he said. He couldn’t let anyone own him. Kai thought it was bullshit, but he’d lost his voice in their non-relationship.
D.Gray-man: One of my in-progress Lavi/Allen week fics.
It was a million years ago, though, and now Allen is a child no longer. It seems that he’s grown up in the last few days, the last few months, maybe faster than he’s ever grown up before. He grew up fast when he was cursed, when he learned how to endure the deep suffering of an Akuma’s soul - when he joined the Order - when Tyki reached into his body and tried to rip out his heart, he’d thought that was growing up, but that was nothing.
Death Note: Clearly I have no capacity to finish anything. This was originally a fic for my friend Amelia, but it sorta .. fell through the cracks.
In any other time, Light Yagami and L might have been friends. In another time-another century, maybe-when the fate of the world didn’t rest on their respective goals, when they weren’t bitter rivals working against each other in this twisted game of tag. They were both intelligent, though L lacked some certain... social graces that Light posessed; they both appreciated justice, though they went about in different ways. In another time, there might have been camaraderie between them. Friendship, even.
Havemercy: This is probably the least-finished INC work I have right now.
Rook sleeps curled into himself, his knees drawn up to his chest and his arms crossed. Thom knows, because he’s spent the last month watching him do just that.
Gundam 00: This one will probably be finished within a couple of days -- it's more fic for electrumicity.
It isn’t a logical fear. He loves Allelujah and he knows that Allelujah loves him, but Lockon’s nothing if not a little selfish, and he wants it to be his name that Allelujah moans, him that Allelujah’s thinking of when he jerks off in the shower.
And now we move into the wonderful world of ~*ORIGINAL FICTION*~!
Eine Kleine Nachtmusik: I don't really know what I was thinking when I started writing this .. it's some kind of 1984-styled dystopian thing.
Their wounds are rotted, and the room smells of death. There isn’t enough air in the building, not enough space, and that kind of darkness and closeness breeds decay. Even with Axiom and Fury there, there is nothing to be done, not with the sort of damage that has been done.
“There,” Fury finally says, passing her hand over the eyes of the last dead girl. “That’s the last of them. Bring Maddox in here, will you?”
Axiom steps into the hallway. When he returns, he trails behind him another young man, tall and wiry. When the door closes behind him, he begins to pace, his footsteps sounding too-loud in the silence. When Fury thinks, she is stock-still; when Maddox thinks, he paces.
“They’re all dead,” Fury says softly, sitting back on her heels and resting her elbows on her knees.
Maddox stops his pacing and crouches against the wall, his hands buried deep in his hair. “How many?” he asks softly, his voice dripping sadness and pain.
“Four.” Axiom’s voice is harder than Fury’s. “There are four of them. Michael and Eon-the twins-and Clary and Alyce. The guards got them. They lasted six days in here before the last of them died.”
Skin Poetry: I started this as a part of a timed writing challenge that Purgchat did (or really, just me and Leah and Rel and Kaji) and never got around to finishing it.
He recites poetry against my skin, sometimes, in the fire-bright sunset pouring in through the stained glass I painted. Stanzas upon stanzas, and Eli tells me they rhyme in Hebrew but not in English, which is fine, because I like the way the syllables feel against my navel, my hip, the side of my throat. His fingertips are languid, and days like these, it feels like we’ll never make it out of bed.
Later, I brush quiet fingers over the places that his lips have touched, still warm, like there are brands there under my skin. Like his mouth has become a furnace, and I wonder what it means - I like listening to him speak, but I want to know what secrets he’s telling my body without me even knowing. I want to carve the words into my skin, indelible, so that I’ll never forget them.
City, 2 am: Another thing that has uncertain origins.
I crash-landed on top of Mary at the bottom of the hill, and we were both laughing, covered in pollen and grass and dandelions and laughing our heads off like we’d both gone mental. We curled up against each other, huddling for warmth, and then we were kissing through numb lips, because girls are girls and sometimes we do things like that.
“Are you guys making out?” Sean shouted from halfway up the hill.
“No!” Mary and I both replied in unison, and then dissolved into giggles once again.
The next morning, all I would remember from that night would be flashbulb memories: The heat of the smoke in my lungs, the way the flame illuminated Sean’s face, and the happy, carefree miles I spent flying down the hill with the wind in my face.
Untitled: The file name for this one is currently Hello I Am Lesbian Porn, if that gives you any idea of what I write in my spare time.
She gives me this look, like she isn’t sure whether she should laugh or dissolve totally into tears. Instead, she settles for a third route - leaning over and planting her lips firmly on mine.
It’s not like I don’t understand the sentiment. We’re starved for basic human kindness, a lot of the time, and it’s not like we can turn to each other when everyone around you is just as fucked-up and broken as you are. It creates a weird cycle - you start to fall in love with anyone who shows you kindness in a moment of vulnerability, and that was exactly, I’m sure, what Jess feels in that moment. I let her kiss me for a second; hell, maybe I even kiss back, because this is a lonely job. I kiss a lot of people, but never anyone that I like. And then I push her away, slowly but firmly.
“I would advise against that,” I say, giving her a tired smile.
“What-who-why?”
“To be honest, little lady? You’re a beautiful girl, and this is a very compromising situation. I’ve got no plans to take advantage of you, but you need to not test my self-control.”
Laugh Alone: This is my NaNoWriMo 08 fic. So it's technically not unfinished, just unedited. Whatever.
Ben was the type of guy that all the guys wanted to be friends with and all the girls just plain wanted. I guess there’s something attractive to them about the whole quiet, slightly dazed artist type, and that was basically Ben in a nutshell-quiet, always a little bit out of it, and definitely artsy. He had paint on his hands that day, a stripe of yellow across his right knuckles and flecks of violet on his left wrist. He must’ve been using acrylics in art class.
“I’m going to buy a planet,” Ben said, startling me out of my daze. “A small one, just big enough for the three of us.” He looked over at me and smiled, that loose, lazy smile that always looked just this side of a grin, but not quite. “And we could all go take a nap there.”
I just stared at him. I should’ve been used to this kind of weirdness from him, but it never ceased to take me by surprise.