[ SECRET POST #2055 ]

[case]

⌈ Secret Post #2055 ⌋

Warning: Some secrets are NOT worksafe and may contain SPOILERS.

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Notes:

Secrets Left to Post: 06 pages, 137 secrets from Secret Submission Post #294.
Secrets Not Posted: [ 0 - broken links ], [ 0 - not!secrets ], [ 0 - not!fandom ], [ 0 - too big ], [ 1 - repeat ].
Current Secret Submissions Post: here.
Suggestions, comments, and concerns should go here.

Comments

What are you working on?

[oroburos69]

Post the first and last paragraph of your current WIP, with a word count in between the paragraphs.

He was tired. Muscles aching, eyes dry and itching, and a swarming darkness inside his bones that swelled and ebbed like the tide. Only sheer bloody-mindedness was keeping him awake. That, and the conviction that falling asleep would kill him.

24738

His tattoo, Whitebeard’s mark, was missing its centre, the grinning skull gone. A circle of white skin replaced it, pale and unscarred, even though he’d had a scar there, before he’d gotten the tattoo. “Thatch, what’s going on? What happened to my tattoo?”

*totally not using this to fish about for authors to read*

Frankenstein Fusion that's probably on indefinite hiatus soon. . .

[biohazardgirl]

First bit:

“Is this it?” Sherlock asked Molly.

He stared down at the black body bag upon the autopsy table. Molly cleared her throat and nodded her head brusquely beside him, but Sherlock barely registered the motion; he had already begun toying with the zipper as if it were a plaster that needed removing. Next to him, Molly began clicking and tapping nervously at her clipboard with her pen. Sherlock took a deep breath and gave Molly a small nod. As if by rote, Molly began.

3414

Last Bit: (Uh, posting the last four lines, because I apparently I have a lot of short sentences. Also, this bit is as of yet unpublished.)

He drank all of the poison in one go.

and he heard an irregular beat in his chest and he had never felt so alive-

The last things he saw were the stars.

or at least, that’s how it was supposed to be.

Re: Frankenstein Fusion that's probably on indefinite hiatus soon. . .

[oroburos69]

Well fuck yes, I'd like to read that. Is it unposted?

pls tell me Molly makes a Sherlock monster. Pls.

*leaves to internet stalk your ideas*

A short-ish "Doctor Who" fic

[fenm]

First:
Jack Harkness stepped out of the TARDIS. He was dressed in what could charitably be called a kilt, if it were several inches longer.

Last:
"Yeah. Let's go."

705. I'm 705 words into a fic that only needs to be 500 words long. And I haven't even gotten to the main point yet. (-:

Wait, is it supposed to be the word count BETWEEN the first and last paragraph, or for the whole thing?

Re: A short-ish "Doctor Who" fic

[oroburos69]

For the entire thing. I didn't feel like high-lighting the section in the middle, myself.

Re: A short-ish "Doctor Who" fic

[(Anonymous)]

---if it were several inches longer

LMAO

Re: What are you working on?

[(Anonymous)]

Fake boyfriends, Avengers, Bruce/Tony. XD


Bruce didn't date, didn't plan to, never wanted to start, and it was the last he would say on the subject. Since Tony knew damn well that Bruce was a sexual being (bisexual, preferences an even split down the middle—they'd had this conversation before) in addition to being romantic in a charmingly old-fashioned way, it was a point of some curiosity for him.

A curious Stark was never a good thing.

8,491

Tony, meanwhile, happily went down to the lab and lost himself in ideas and prototypes that he'd otherwise been ignoring, content to spend the early morning working and listening to the quiet of a sleeping building and practically aching to blast Metallica through the walls. It wasn't until sometime around two in the afternoon that he became aware of the time, and even then, it was only because his phone was chiming with about a dozen text messages from Pepper, all with varying degrees of confusion and not-urgency and instructions to call her, Tony.

Tony rightfully figured that the tabloids had moved faster than he'd expected, and

Re: What are you working on?

[saku]

omg wow this is fun

"Is he going to be okay?"

(9332)

Molly awoke to the sound of her cell phone ringing. She propped herself up with an elbow and reached for it on the bedside table. The screen read Boston; scowling, she answered and immediately hung up without a word. As she checked her messages she noticed it was his fifth attempt amongst numerous texts, all from him.

Nothing from the hospital, she thought. Noiselessly she fell back into her pillow.

i cheated and added an extra paragraph at the end since both the beginning and the end paragraphs for this wip are super short. :[ these are also really bad example paragraphs lol welp...

not that anyone cares, but this wip is actually a complete redo of the first story i ever completed. my stepmom threw it away (i'm assuming accidentally) but that's probably for the better, because i was 14 and it was awful.

but now all of my stories are wips and i get writer's block like every 40 minutes. god help me

Re: What are you working on?

[(Anonymous)]

The living room went dark, flickering tv light behind the curtains switched off before the kitchen light came on. He stepped back into the impenetrable shadow of the bushes but Liam never even glanced out at the garden. It wasn't the first time he'd stood out here and watched him; he knew every move Liam was going to make before he made them. Tonight every one felt charged. The t-shirt Liam wore was an old one, blue and thin and stretched out over his shoulders, collarbones bared and vulnerable and shifting beneath his skin as he rinsed the dishes that had accumulated over the quiet night in. He always left them till the morning to wash properly, but he rinsed them. This time, tomorrow morning, *after*, he'd ache when he finally dragged himself out bed, and each time he stretched to put something on the rack to dry it would remind him what had happened. What was *going* to happen. What Harry was going to *do to him*.

1315

The light in the bedroom went out. Somehow, this served to make Harry aware of just how quiet it was out here in the middle of the night.


VERY VERY MUCH PRE-EDITING. I'm powering through as part of Camp Nanowrimo, so I'm just getting words out at the mo.

ONE PIECE! and some Naruto? I have a lot of WIPs.

[(Anonymous)]

Kidd doesn’t get Law. The other captain is crazy, he thinks--what rational person wants this kinda shit? Kidd doesn’t mind, precisely, because seeing his marks on Law’s skin turns him on something fierce, but he doesn’t get it.

499

“Can you feel yourself moving under my skin?” Law asks, and finally his voice is unsteady, eyes bright with tears and lust.

Another!

He finds his own way out, two years late and a lifetime older, to a world that had forgotten he existed. They hadn’t looked for him, had figured him for dead, which was bitter pill to swallow when so many idle dreams had seen him rescued. In the end, though, it was just like Gramps had always said--If you wanted something done, you had to do it yourself.

1560

Vista--Ace bit his lip to keep from laughing, and went on with the fantasy. With Vista, it’d be romantic. Rose petals. LOTS of rose petals. Vista’d probably fill an entire beach with them and take Ace there. And there’d be fancy wines and weird cheeses, and he’d be too drunk to get it up, and then Vista would take Ace home, tell everyone he was a magnificent lover, and put him to bed.

And what's this? Another???

Dadan woke them in the middle of the night, dragging them out of their tree house and to the hidden bay on the far side of the island, hushing them every time they tried to speak. What Ace remembered most, looking back, was being annoyed. He was tired, and Luffy kept tripping and grabbing onto the back of his shirt, yanking the collar back and choking Ace, and Dadan wouldn’t explain anything. It didn’t occur to him that something was wrong.

826

“How many Marines are there? Where are they?” he asked, looking from one adult to the next, hoping one of them would reveal that it was a really bad joke.

Aaaaand more. Because.

It was his fault. He didn’t brace himself, too busy trying to balance the massive bisento he’d found to predict Whitebeard’s kick, and only barely blocked it with the shaft of the polearm. The blow sang though his arms and sent Ace flying into the mast, shoulder first. He felt bone snap, felt his body fold around the ironwood mast, and dropped the bisento. It thumped to the deck, too heavy to bounce.

“That’s mine,” Whitebeard scolded like Ace was a naughty child, and Ace hated, hated, hated him. He plucked the bisento from the ground easily, like it weighed no more than a feather, and continued, “It’s rude to try and kill a man with his own weapon.”

8060

“Well that’s good to know,” Ace murmured, and Marco hadn’t known that Ace was capable of such neutral tones. He was nearly grey, eyes sunken and half-lidded, but alert enough that Marco wasn’t going to be able to pretend that it was a misunderstanding. The air smelled like puke, and down the hall was a glistening pool of yellow bile, footsteps so large that they could only be Whitebeard’s walking away from it.

And more...

The first(-ish) words Luffy ever said to Zoro were, “Are you Roronoa Zoro?” closely followed by, “Are you sure?”

4141

Nami’s fingers had made it to his ribs, sliding in the tender hollows between his bones. He wondered if his ribs were visible, gleaming white in the sunlight, if the shivering echo in his skeleton was from her touching it. “We’re almost done,” Nami said again, though the way she said it wasn’t a reassurance.

And still more...

For three months, Itachi did not speak. He was like a jar of butterflies, pretty, suffocated, and deader than dead.

15756

“I was born in ninety-one,” Itachi offered, and Kisame felt very old for a second. Itachi glanced up at Kisame. “What did you do, during the war?”

He felt dizzy, for one long moment, black spots swimming through the air in front of him. “Me? Nothing important. I was only seventeen when it ended--” he paused, considered the company he was keeping, then laughed. “That matters, sometimes. At least, it did in the Mist.”

Another? Why not!

Boots scraped on rough stone, accompanied by the rattle and clank of doors and locks being undone.

17416

He nodded, already half-way there. The safehouse was a nice one, with poured concrete walls and electricity. The hall was wide and brightly lit, and it looked nothing like the prison. Kisame liked it.

Moooooore? lol, is anyone even still reading at this point?

Kakashi woke to the wail of the war sirens, the scent of smoke on the wind, and ash falling like snow over Konoha. The blanket he’d stolen from the hospital had become threadbare and motheaten as he slept, and the short wall around the roof had cracked and rotted.

5851

The war sirens started to wail, rot spreading across the tiled walls. Bodies started appearing, in corners and tied to the beds, some of them still struggling. Anko jammed the key into the lock before they could get free.

How about some more One Piece?

“Take it outside,” Smoker ordered his men, ending the bar fight before it even started.

399

His cigars had smoldered down to stumps, nearly close enough to burn his lips, and Smoker tossed them into a nearby alley, pulling out a new pair in the same motion. His first attempt at lighting a match sputtered, killed by a snowflake’s fall. Smoker frowned at his matchbook, down to the last match, and tucked it away, heading down a nearby alley to find a place out of the wind.

And more!

Mihawk watched for far longer than the rookie crew might have imagined, waiting to see if the green-haired boy would survive. It had seemed impossible--the only thing holding the rookie together was a backbone.

As it turned out, though, Roronoa Zoro had one hell of a backbone.

1178

Mihawk paused on his way to the door, and looked back at Shanks. “No. I have to go,” Mihawk said solemnly. “I--never realized before. But you’ve made it so clear--I am in love with Roronao Zoro.”

“You’re what?” Shanks looked like Mihawk had slapped him in the face with a dead fish.

“I cannot win his heart here. I must return to my castle and compose a love letter announce my intent to woo him in traditional Kuraiganan poetry. Thank you, Shanks. I never would have realized this without you.”

...more?

The edge of disaster is her home. Better than coffee, sweeter than cake, keener than knives--it cuts her to the quick, and Sakura’s flaws bled out, excised like tumors, leaving only steel. Every wound an opportunity, a battle against death, and Sakura will win this war if it’s the last thing she does.

It will, of course, be the last thing she does.

3219

Kakashi felt the chill of incoming responsibility and tucked himself deeper into the corner, making the crate wobble alarmingly. “Not it!” he said sharply. He never wanted to have to be the Hokage, and it was very rude of Tsunade threaten to retire. Every time she did, people started mumbling about making him the Hokage, and Naruto got this look like he’d gone and stolen all the ramen ever and eaten it in front of him.



Okay, that's about the lot of it that's unposted. There's a few others, but they're technically finished, or so old that they're legally dead.

I seriously need to finish something, someday.

Re: What are you working on?

[(Anonymous)]

374

exchange

WOMP WOMP

But my next big bang project will be SOON. Cannot wait.

Re: What are you working on?

[(Anonymous)]

Tippy-tappy go his fingers on the keyboard. I follow the shadows with my eyes, wanting to play. He looks at me, I pretend to have been licking my paw all this time. He smirks, he knows.

836

"Mine. All mine." Dreaming, kneading, dribbling.

"Sea of Tea. I am trying to sleep."

"So am I Sure, so am I."


Um, it's about BBC Sherlock's cat Sea of Tea (COD) who likes to think he helps 'Sure' and 'Yawn' and occasionally has his own kitty cases.

I need a life. LOL

Re: What are you working on?

[loracarol]

(I'm working on editing my nanowrimo novel for shit and giggles, so here you go...)

Adventure started the next day as Jaéda and Daéja woke up to their family arguing over what they were going to pack for their children. It seems that Thomas wanted to pack for Dae more traditional pirate weapons, where as his sister wanted to pack ninja weapons for them. Eventually they came to a compromise, packing together everything they thought would fit, and still be comfortable in packs that would not chafe nor break until they were completed in deed and though.

Also, Uncle Umi was making waffles. And since he made really good waffles, that was okay with everyone. Waffles… Waffles were good. Not as good as pie, not really. But still good. Especially with raspberries I mean strawberries and blueberries on top, they were absolutely freaking delicious.

Mmmmm Waffles.

Gergory had not liked waffles in all his weird self-delusional glory, but he was also crazy. And evil. Evil crazy, not the best combo.

But, yeah, he didn’t like waffles. BOOOOOO ON HIM. SHAME HIM FOREVER FOR HIS NON-WAFFLE LIKING NESS. SHUN HIM.

SHUUUUUUUUUUUUUN.

His children liked waffles, though. Waffles were good~ And they could be made super well by their Uncle Umi who was skilled in the ancient art of making WAFFLES before a big trip in order to remind those leaving as they left that they were loved truly and well. And stuff. It was mostly sappy stuff, but it was the good kind of sappy, as Jaé and Daé were leaving to go on a mighty journey that could leave them dead or not living. Because not being living does not mean that yu are dead. Also, you could be a zombie. Life (and unlife) is funny like that. As the old sage said, you can’t always get what, but if you try sometimes, you might find, you get what you need.

...75,000 words...

"Oh Pater, I could not care if you were the god of cooking or of war or of smithing! I am just glad to see you again."

"And I you!"

(FTR, the "Pater" mentioned is Boris, former god of war, and current god of smithing and such things.)

Re: What are you working on?

[forgottenjester]

So very unbetad and was started a few months ago. I intend to pick it back up once I finish watching all the episodes I missed during school. I have tense issues and currently am trying to figure out which I prefer for this story.



It’s late, she should be sleeping, and she has a lot to do tomorrow but none of that seems to matter to her brain because it won’t shut up. Korra groans and rolls over to look around her sparse room. There’s a wardrobe for the few sets of clothes she owns, a desk, and, of course, the bed she’s laying on. It strikes her that she really didn’t bring much with her when she left the South Pole. Korra mentally shrugs; she’s never been much of a person to care about having a bunch of things. A potted plant she’s never watered sits by the door. She wonders who does water it because it wouldn’t be alive otherwise. In fact, she wonders whose room this used to be. There are pictures hanging on the wall over the desk of people she doesn’t recognize. They’re smiling and right now that does nothing to improve Korra’s mood. It’s like they’re laughing at her insomnia. She wants to smash the stupid little frames and the stupid little smiles off those stupid little pictures, even if that doesn’t make sense and she would feel bad about it later.

9,385

“Oh, it’s about ‘my house is your house’ or something like that. Just means that you’re welcome at my place. You know the whole, ‘make yourself at home’ thing.” Bolin had started steaming the vegetables.

“I see.”

After that the two lapsed into silence for a while.

Re: What are you working on?

[maverickz3r0]

Pre-editing and in early draft stages, nowhere near done. (Fandom is Rockman EXE/Mega Man Battle Network.)

Two years after the Cybeasts nearly broke loose and tore through Central City, the world had settled down into a kind of peace. The regularity of life from the pre-WWW days had finally returned. Officials who worked hard at their jobs were once more accused of 'jumping at shadows' and NetBattle became once more a game, not something that you might need to learn to defend yourself and your home.

In the end, nothing had really changed. It was all just history even to those who had been involved in it directly.

(6752)

Thought? Or hoped? Did you think that I...could develop? Hope that I would? Envy Lan and MegaMan their closeness? Here he felt a pang. That accurately summed up his own feelings. Did you think there was a chance I was evolving beyond what you think is my core code?

Deep in his mind, a tiny little seed of unease was planted. A seed that would likely sprout, and grow, and even lead to his actions in the future.

Should I really keep lying to you?

A few thousand words so far

[veronica_rich]

The pranks had gotten out of hand. It was one thing when he’d been alive, the little tricks Lister and his mates liked to play on him: rearranging the tiny detachable “Xs” on his revision timetable, a dull gray tube of hemorrhoid cream swapped for his dull gray tube of hair tamer, even that business with photographs tacked to the community bulletin board of the tiny paper Lincoln stovepipe hat cocked merrily on his how-do-you-do, after he fell asleep from a couple of pseudo-brotherly glasses of hard cider Dave and the guys had pressed on him the evening after his “I AM A FISH” fiasco.

......

For another – there hadn’t been a prank played on him, so far as Rimmer could tell, since before the prolonged hug in their quarters. He kept a vigilant eye out for honey substitute smeared in his socks, or to wake up with liver spots drawn on his skin in indelible marker; so far, it was for naught, but Rimmer figured that bastard, karma, was just storing up something far worse.

Re: What are you working on?

[st_jane_ambulance]

"Game Over. Game Over."

~40,000

"Mine too," Bob said to Megabyte. He charged his hands, wrapping Megabyte in energy, and hurled him through the blast door. Climbing to his feet, Bob made for the Core Room, knowing Megabyte would follow.


It's not online yet. *hides*

Re: What are you working on?

[(Anonymous)]

First: “Is it working?” Bepo asked. A close-up of one of his eyes appeared on the screen.

Last: "Shachi waited for Law’s answer. Law glanced at them both before breaking out a smile and raising his bottle. “To the grand line,” he said, and the others cheered."

words: 1,672. it's not even posted tho. I just want Punk Hazard to finish so I can keep it canon but THESE BREAKS MAN

Re: What are you working on?

[hylian_shadow]

What the heck; I'll play. I've got some WIPs thanks to my kink_bingo claim.

First, my strangest AU to date, Legend of Zelda meets American Old West-style frontier expansion.

He was getting well and truly tired of being one of perhaps three competent people at the fortification. He didn't mind that the soldiers recognized his skill, not that he put much weight behind their opinions, but he disliked being constantly expected to pick up their slack. Especially considering how much slack they left.

~1000 words

"We don't have many options. And while we're discussing it, the only way I'll consent to being gagged is if you allow me to return the favor."

He cringed slightly. "Very well, then. I suppose I have no choice."


And the other, Ocarina of Time Link/Dark Link.

"I know you don't like following orders, but must you make such a point of disregarding everything you're asked to do?" I managed to close the door without slamming it, though it wasn't easy. "You are aware that I'm the one who always has to clean up your messes, aren't you?"

~800 words

That much was obvious. I considered my options for a moment, trying to decide which option I liked the most. There were so many things I could tell him to do... This was almost intoxicating.

Sherlock Holmes (2009) Kink Meme Fill

[30_rock_office]

He and Sherlock had been staking out a suspect all evening, but he had disappointed them by changing his normal routine and had not shown up as they had expected. His absence seemed to point to two possibilities: the man was either onto them (unlikely) or he was out committing more armed robbery on unsuspecting members of London's intercity. Sherlock was frustrated for not having foreseen these possibilities in the first place and had become more and more unsettled as the night wore on, angry at himself and impatient with Watson. Which is, he guesses, the reason he finds himself being dragged into a dingy alley in an unfamiliar neighborhood at one o'clock in the morning.

[741 Words]

Holmes presses his lips to Watson's jaw, and Watson knows it's Sherlock's apology.

Re: What are you working on?

[(Anonymous)]

I really, really, just started this... Lost Girl.

The ocean rolled at her feet, waves tumbling over the rocks of the break water, grey-green in it's depths, white at the tips with flecks of foam. The ebb and flow moved with a rumble and a growling crash, almost as if a great beast struggled just beneath the water, trying to escape or perhaps just crying out defiance at the land for holding it back from a further destination.

Only 639 so far

"I'm totally fun." Kenzi assured him. "Fun is my middle name. And coffee is the fuel for the fun machine. Lets go."


I'm not sure about it though, because I'm still catching up with all the episodes and now I find that they actually DID make one with the fae that I had intended to use. *pouts and goes scrounging for an alternate*

Re: What are you working on?

[(Anonymous)]

Arthur had just began to sift through a mountain of paperwork when he heard a knock at his office door. Davis, one of his colleagues popped his head in when Arthur looked up.

7,801

"This is amazing," Percy said. "I didn't realize it was so close -- he nearly missed!" Percy lined the photographs up on the table and placed his next to them. "Look at that!" he said. "Mine's just a *blur* of action. Yours..." he reached out a hand and grabbed her wrist, pulling her closer to him. "They're beautiful," he whispered into her ear as he wrapped his arms around her.

Wordcounter.net just became my new favorite site. Because not only did it count my words, it also tells me word Density. "Arthur," for instance, is a No. 1 word with 102 mentions. Net up: She, with 77. (Arthur is not a she in this story btw)

Fic for fandom probably no one here has heard about... (Unwind)

[catocore]

The metallic plate creases slightly under Connor's weight and creaks soundly. It probably wouldn't be strong enough to withstand the pressure of having the nearly seventeen years-old boy on top of it for much longer but Connor doesn't skittle off just yet.

He is getting better at it.

~7500

He stares at the Unwind he's who's going through with patching up the many wounded, but who replies is a sandy blond kid whose name Connor cannot think of. His face is swollen and his voice sounds thick, difficult to decipher.

“One of the clappers, y'know? Was too close t'here. At least that's what been said 'round.” He replies meekly, seemingly intimidated by Connor's presence.

Re: What are you working on?

[ryttu3k]

Camp NaNoWriMo, yeah! Legend of Zelda - Ocarina of Time. The other character speaking in the last part is Sheik, the one who disappeared is Nabooru, and they're talking about Ganondorf (who's... basically attempted to win Link over by convincing him that what he did was all for his people).

If this was what being a hero was, Link wanted no part of it.

Throwing himself down against a tree at the outskirts of the forest, he drew his legs up to his chest, dropped his head to his knees, and let himself fall limp with a little sigh of exhaustion and resignation. The Forest Temple had been hellish, a trial well beyond anything he had seen in Dodongo's Cavern or even inside Jabu Jabu's belly, and if what the other boy - Sheik, was that what his name had been? - had said was right, he still had four more temples to go.

43,628

"But he wanted to help his people," Link repeated numbly. He could not look away from the spot where she had disappeared. "Why would he...?"

"Because that's what he does."

Link bit down on his lip.

Re: What are you working on?

[seashimmer]

I'm the one who's been posting anon about an ME fic from Joker's perspective - finally got an account. Here's what I have so far, though it's still quite rough. Cheating the paragraphs slightly too, since both first and last are incredibly short, and last asked for context.



Flight Lieutenant Jeff “Joker” Moreau was having a very bad day.

His alarm hadn’t woken him, so he got up too late to get coffee at the only decent coffee place near his tiny flat on Arcturus Station. His wheelchair, which he usually used to travel the longer distances on the station, was packed with the rest of his gear, so he had to get by with his leg braces and crutches - and security apparently thought crutches were dangerous weapons, since they’d stopped him three times to “inspect” them. He’d been forced to lean uncomfortably against a wall while security ran their tests.

(6172)

“Keep me informed.”

“As always, captain.” Joker peered intently at his board, listening just as carefully as the captain walked away. Strong confident stride. Heavier than Shepard, and slower, but lighter than Nihlus.