WIP Meme
It seems like I have so many WIPs lying around, so i figured I'd provide a sneak peak into some of the drivel stuff I've been coming up with. Most of these will never be finished, some of them are about to be completed, and I actually found a small The Mortal Instruments drabblet that is actually complete... gasp, I know, hahaa. That'll go up today, most likely. The Divergent fic at the end of this is what I'm currently working on, so I included only the smallest of snippets.
When you see this, post an 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.
Inception
a. where Arthur is the son of Michael Darling from Peter Pan
“Do you think the Lost Boys were sad when Wendy, Michael, and John left?” Arthur asks one night.
“Yes,” Father replies. “For a time, at least. Then I think they forgot.”
“But how could they forget such an important thing?” Arthur asks, confusion in his voice.
“I think it hurt them too much,” Father says after a long pause. “At least, that’s what began the forgetting. Like a protective mechanism against the ills of the world. Without a mother to protect the Lost Boys, they had to find another way to cope with grief. Forgetting was a good option for them. Eventually, they became very good at it.”
Arthur becomes very sad at the thought of the Lost Boys forgetting about Wendy and her brothers. Then another, even more horrible thought hits him, and tears well up in his eyes.
“Do you think Peter forgot about Wendy?” Arthur asks in a small tone, on the verge of tears.
“Arthur,” Father says consolingly. But he remains silent, confirming Arthur's ever-growing horror, and then sudden understanding settles over Arthur like a heavy blanket. Why would Peter bother remembering someone that hurt him so?
“I wish I could forget sad things,” Arthur sighs finally, and Father grips his hand tightly.
“Living a life with both joy and grief is something that it absolutely necessary for growing up, Arthur,” Father tells him softly. “How you deal with the bad things in life is how you become a better man.”
“But I’m not a man,” Arthur whines. “I’m just a little boy.”
“For now,” Father says, and the words terrify Arthur.
“For a long time,” Arthur says warily. Father grins and lets go of Arthur’s hand.
“Yes, Arthur,” he laughs. “For a long time. But everyone grows up. It’s better than the alternative.”
“Going to Neverland?” Arthur posits, but by the expression on Father’s face, Arthur can tell that the alternative is something else entirely.
b. where you finally get to discover how Eames lost his pants
"If I may begin..." Eames says, clearing his throat importantly. "Five Ways Mr. Eames Lost His Pants in the Los Angeles International Airport, Having All To Do With Lady Fortune and Having Absolutely Nothing to Do With That Cad, Arthur," Eames begins. Arthur has an amused, who-me? look on his face. "You, Ariandne, have to guess which tale is true."
Supernatural
c. where they're on the run from Lucifer (set in the middle of season 5)
The sound the door makes as it opens is a small creaking noise. Boots slide in, mud-slicked and squelching. One is kicked off, then the other, both piling up upon one another as if trying to keep warm from the bitter cold of winter that breathes upon the windowpanes. The brown, beaten leather jacket is shrugged off, placed carefully across the small table the motel room provides as a working desk. Then jeans are unbuckled, one hand doing all the work, and suddenly they slide around bony ankles, are kicked askance nearly under the bed. The wearer falls onto the bed in exhaustion, mattress murmuring as he melts on top of the covers.
Dean Winchester has been tired before. He’s known true physical exhaustion. Dean’s also been emotionally through the ringer many a time. But he has never had the two separate, special kinds coincide in the acute way they did right then, right there. Not since… well, not since Hell. A brief image of Alistair’s face floods Dean’s consciousness and suddenly the elder Winchester is bolt upright, nerves on edge. Usually he doesn’t freak out; there’s been time enough since his ordeal to mend his uneasiness. Dean shakes his head. The bastard had been toasted long ago. Couldn’t get him now.
The door opens again. Sam enters, Castiel following closely behind him. Dean looks at his brother for a sign that they’d lost the demons on their tail, and Sam gives him a brief shake of the head.
“Damnit,” Dean curses, reaching for his jeans. They would have to leave immediately.
“No, Dean,” Sam says in a quiet voice. “We need the rest, in a real bed. Cas says we’ll be fine for one night of peace.” Dean looks at Castiel, who locks eyes with him.
“You have six hours,” the angel states. “I have spread three false trails for the creatures chasing us to follow. These particular followers of Lucifer will not be able to find us until we have already left.”
“What, did they take the special bus to Torture and Flay Camp?” Dean asks with a smirk. Sam flattens his lips and shakes his head.
“From what I can tell, they have no sense of eyesight, only smell. That doesn’t make them any less dangerous, though. From what I can tell, they’ve got these pincer type things…” Sam lets his voice trail off. “Let’s just say they are not something we want to encounter.”
“Then we won’t,” Dean says. “Encounter them, I mean. We’ll be out of here at dawn.”
Castiel is standing at the window, pulling the shades closed. Dean leans over and buries his face in his hands. Lucifer has been chasing them for three weeks now, letting out all the stops: hellhounds, mass mob possession, the four horsemen, and all that jazz. It’s been all Dean can think about: staying one step ahead of Hell unleashed.
The Good Wife
d. where Will and Alicia choose a different path during the first season episode "Heart"
She presses the elevator button hesitantly at first, then with excessive precision and force. The number twenty-eight lights up beneath her pointer finger as the silver doors close before her. Alicia backs up against the wall of the elevator, attempting to breath in an even tempo while her heart beats strong and true against her ribs. She knows going back upstairs is a horrible idea, but she finds herself excited as the floors pass by. In a small way, she wants to know what it feels like-to cheat… to make love to someone that isn’t her husband. In some respect, she wants to know what Peter felt like when he took those other women while she, Alicia, waited for him at home, naively unaware of her marriage’s impending doom. She wanted to make Peter feel her pain.
But in the pi chart of her decision to come back into Stern, Lockhart and Gardener, those feelings were dwarfed by one word: Will. The mere thought of his name makes her lower stomach clench, and she returns to the moment when he had kissed her, his stubble just long enough to tickle; when she had groaned in quiet appreciation their second embrace, before darting out into the night. She lifts her fingers to her lips as the doors open, and Alicia is startled to run into her assistant.
“Are you okay, Mrs. Florrick?” the young woman asks, and Alicia smiles at her.
“Fine, I just forgot my computer,” she replies quickly.
“See you tomorrow,” Alicia hears her call out to her receding form. Alicia lets out a low hiss as she stubs her toe against the main desk as she hurries toward Will’s office.
She turns the corner and then-the glass doors are right in front of her, which she pushes open promptly, entering the empty office.
Alicia says nothing for a moment. She stands in the doorway on the precipice of something-what exactly that something is, she does not know. Love? Regret? Guilt? The word that had been floating throughout the political blogs, the women’s rights associations that had practically begged her-was divorce really on the table now?
“Alicia,” a voice says from behind her. Alicia jumps, dropping her coat, and whips herself around the intruder.
Except the intruder is Will. And her knees are close to buckling.
Divergent
e. a five times fic that explores how Tris and Four could be if they were in a different faction
the one where they know everything and nothing at the same time: erudite.
The first part of Erudite initiation is the testing phase. Every day, the pledges take three to four tests, in areas that range from calculus to literature to history and beyond. Some were essay exams, but most were bubble sheet tests. Beatrice had long ago perfected the art of filling in the perfect bubble sheet. There were no mistakes on her exams: not even in the way she filled her name into the scantron. The same could not be said for some of the other initiates. One girl had been physically dragged from the room after spelling the word petrichor with an extra e at the end. No one even looked up from their answer sheets to acknowledge her exit-the girl would now be factionless… something Beatrice planned to avoid.
Also in progress (but not fic): a 5 part fanmix subdivided into Faction-themed EPs. Get excited :3
When you see this, post an 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.
Inception
a. where Arthur is the son of Michael Darling from Peter Pan
“Do you think the Lost Boys were sad when Wendy, Michael, and John left?” Arthur asks one night.
“Yes,” Father replies. “For a time, at least. Then I think they forgot.”
“But how could they forget such an important thing?” Arthur asks, confusion in his voice.
“I think it hurt them too much,” Father says after a long pause. “At least, that’s what began the forgetting. Like a protective mechanism against the ills of the world. Without a mother to protect the Lost Boys, they had to find another way to cope with grief. Forgetting was a good option for them. Eventually, they became very good at it.”
Arthur becomes very sad at the thought of the Lost Boys forgetting about Wendy and her brothers. Then another, even more horrible thought hits him, and tears well up in his eyes.
“Do you think Peter forgot about Wendy?” Arthur asks in a small tone, on the verge of tears.
“Arthur,” Father says consolingly. But he remains silent, confirming Arthur's ever-growing horror, and then sudden understanding settles over Arthur like a heavy blanket. Why would Peter bother remembering someone that hurt him so?
“I wish I could forget sad things,” Arthur sighs finally, and Father grips his hand tightly.
“Living a life with both joy and grief is something that it absolutely necessary for growing up, Arthur,” Father tells him softly. “How you deal with the bad things in life is how you become a better man.”
“But I’m not a man,” Arthur whines. “I’m just a little boy.”
“For now,” Father says, and the words terrify Arthur.
“For a long time,” Arthur says warily. Father grins and lets go of Arthur’s hand.
“Yes, Arthur,” he laughs. “For a long time. But everyone grows up. It’s better than the alternative.”
“Going to Neverland?” Arthur posits, but by the expression on Father’s face, Arthur can tell that the alternative is something else entirely.
b. where you finally get to discover how Eames lost his pants
"If I may begin..." Eames says, clearing his throat importantly. "Five Ways Mr. Eames Lost His Pants in the Los Angeles International Airport, Having All To Do With Lady Fortune and Having Absolutely Nothing to Do With That Cad, Arthur," Eames begins. Arthur has an amused, who-me? look on his face. "You, Ariandne, have to guess which tale is true."
Supernatural
c. where they're on the run from Lucifer (set in the middle of season 5)
The sound the door makes as it opens is a small creaking noise. Boots slide in, mud-slicked and squelching. One is kicked off, then the other, both piling up upon one another as if trying to keep warm from the bitter cold of winter that breathes upon the windowpanes. The brown, beaten leather jacket is shrugged off, placed carefully across the small table the motel room provides as a working desk. Then jeans are unbuckled, one hand doing all the work, and suddenly they slide around bony ankles, are kicked askance nearly under the bed. The wearer falls onto the bed in exhaustion, mattress murmuring as he melts on top of the covers.
Dean Winchester has been tired before. He’s known true physical exhaustion. Dean’s also been emotionally through the ringer many a time. But he has never had the two separate, special kinds coincide in the acute way they did right then, right there. Not since… well, not since Hell. A brief image of Alistair’s face floods Dean’s consciousness and suddenly the elder Winchester is bolt upright, nerves on edge. Usually he doesn’t freak out; there’s been time enough since his ordeal to mend his uneasiness. Dean shakes his head. The bastard had been toasted long ago. Couldn’t get him now.
The door opens again. Sam enters, Castiel following closely behind him. Dean looks at his brother for a sign that they’d lost the demons on their tail, and Sam gives him a brief shake of the head.
“Damnit,” Dean curses, reaching for his jeans. They would have to leave immediately.
“No, Dean,” Sam says in a quiet voice. “We need the rest, in a real bed. Cas says we’ll be fine for one night of peace.” Dean looks at Castiel, who locks eyes with him.
“You have six hours,” the angel states. “I have spread three false trails for the creatures chasing us to follow. These particular followers of Lucifer will not be able to find us until we have already left.”
“What, did they take the special bus to Torture and Flay Camp?” Dean asks with a smirk. Sam flattens his lips and shakes his head.
“From what I can tell, they have no sense of eyesight, only smell. That doesn’t make them any less dangerous, though. From what I can tell, they’ve got these pincer type things…” Sam lets his voice trail off. “Let’s just say they are not something we want to encounter.”
“Then we won’t,” Dean says. “Encounter them, I mean. We’ll be out of here at dawn.”
Castiel is standing at the window, pulling the shades closed. Dean leans over and buries his face in his hands. Lucifer has been chasing them for three weeks now, letting out all the stops: hellhounds, mass mob possession, the four horsemen, and all that jazz. It’s been all Dean can think about: staying one step ahead of Hell unleashed.
The Good Wife
d. where Will and Alicia choose a different path during the first season episode "Heart"
She presses the elevator button hesitantly at first, then with excessive precision and force. The number twenty-eight lights up beneath her pointer finger as the silver doors close before her. Alicia backs up against the wall of the elevator, attempting to breath in an even tempo while her heart beats strong and true against her ribs. She knows going back upstairs is a horrible idea, but she finds herself excited as the floors pass by. In a small way, she wants to know what it feels like-to cheat… to make love to someone that isn’t her husband. In some respect, she wants to know what Peter felt like when he took those other women while she, Alicia, waited for him at home, naively unaware of her marriage’s impending doom. She wanted to make Peter feel her pain.
But in the pi chart of her decision to come back into Stern, Lockhart and Gardener, those feelings were dwarfed by one word: Will. The mere thought of his name makes her lower stomach clench, and she returns to the moment when he had kissed her, his stubble just long enough to tickle; when she had groaned in quiet appreciation their second embrace, before darting out into the night. She lifts her fingers to her lips as the doors open, and Alicia is startled to run into her assistant.
“Are you okay, Mrs. Florrick?” the young woman asks, and Alicia smiles at her.
“Fine, I just forgot my computer,” she replies quickly.
“See you tomorrow,” Alicia hears her call out to her receding form. Alicia lets out a low hiss as she stubs her toe against the main desk as she hurries toward Will’s office.
She turns the corner and then-the glass doors are right in front of her, which she pushes open promptly, entering the empty office.
Alicia says nothing for a moment. She stands in the doorway on the precipice of something-what exactly that something is, she does not know. Love? Regret? Guilt? The word that had been floating throughout the political blogs, the women’s rights associations that had practically begged her-was divorce really on the table now?
“Alicia,” a voice says from behind her. Alicia jumps, dropping her coat, and whips herself around the intruder.
Except the intruder is Will. And her knees are close to buckling.
Divergent
e. a five times fic that explores how Tris and Four could be if they were in a different faction
the one where they know everything and nothing at the same time: erudite.
The first part of Erudite initiation is the testing phase. Every day, the pledges take three to four tests, in areas that range from calculus to literature to history and beyond. Some were essay exams, but most were bubble sheet tests. Beatrice had long ago perfected the art of filling in the perfect bubble sheet. There were no mistakes on her exams: not even in the way she filled her name into the scantron. The same could not be said for some of the other initiates. One girl had been physically dragged from the room after spelling the word petrichor with an extra e at the end. No one even looked up from their answer sheets to acknowledge her exit-the girl would now be factionless… something Beatrice planned to avoid.
Also in progress (but not fic): a 5 part fanmix subdivided into Faction-themed EPs. Get excited :3