#WIP fic poll

[myth-blossom]

WIP Fic Poll!

Thanks for tagging me @postalninja! I have WAY too many WIPs to list in a single poll, so I’ve selected a variety of plot bunnies for you to choose from. (To clarify, I want to work on ALL of these, but it’d be cool to let me know what you’re most excited for. :D )

Rules: Make a 24hr poll listing the titles of every WIP you want to work on. (It’s fine if you only have one, still make a poll for the vote count). Whichever WIP title gets the most votes, write 1 sentence for every vote received.

Tagging @diana-fortyseven @stickthisbig @within-infant-rind and anyone else who would like to play :)

[choccy-milky]

Hey just wanted to say how much I adore the Raven and The Snake! It kept me sane during some hard times last year screaming at Seb distracted me from my real problems LOL! In fact I love it so much I would love to print the fic and turn it into a book for my own personal enjoyment of course, would it be okay with you if I did that and posted the final product on Twitter? I'd tag you of course! Don't know if it's a dumb question but I wanted to check. Anyways love your work you are SUPER talented!

YES YES YES??? OMG PLSSS I WOULD DIE!!!!!!!

IM HONOURED YOU LIKED IT ENOUGH TO WANT TO BIND IT!!! AND PLS, TAG ME EVERYWHERE WHEN/IF YOU DO IT😭😭 ive considered commissioning someone to bind it myself just to have as a memento bc im the author, but omg the fact that someone else would wanna do it too......im glad sebs dumbassery (and lets be real, clora's too. if not MOSTLY cloras) could distract you from your irl problems by yelling at those two idiots🥰🥰 THANK YOU AGAIN IM HONOURED ARGHHH🧎‍♀️💖💖

LMFAOOO THE WAY I THOUGHT THIS WAS ANON HATE AT FIRST LMAOOO i mean i guess it kinda could still be considered it??? but i love your love for clora BAHAH bc you are so right, let seb drown, this aint about him✋😔...to satiate you heres a wip of her ive had for a while, and maybe ill finally finish it soon JUST FOR YOU🫵🫵💖

[strangersteddierthings]

Porcelain Steve

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six🦇Part Seven🦇Part Eight🦇Part Nine

Eddie is, perhaps, the only person who seems to be handling the fact Steve has been turned into a porcelain doll in a level-headed sort of way. Probably because he's the newest person to be privy to Upside Down shenaniganary and quiet honestly just thought 'ah. Of course. Why wouldn't something like this be possible?' instead of freaking out and screaming like everyone else.

"It's a physical impossibility, Robin!" Dustin shouts.

"Well, we thought monsters didn't exist before, but guess what-" Robin is shouting back.

"The monster situation was scientifically plausible, now proven scientifically true! Transforming a living person into a doll is magic, and magic isn't real!"

"It fucking is now! Look at Steve!! Look at him!" Robin, who is holding Porcelain Steve, shakes him in Dustin's face, complete with the clack of porcelain on porcelain.

Eddie isn't even fully aware he moved from his spot on the couch in the Byers-Hopper living room until he's snatching Steve out of Robin's hands with the thought of 'he gets migraines too easily for you to shake him like that' and then is left wondering if little Porcelain Steve can get migraines. "Stop waving him around like a flag, Buckley. Porcelain is fragile, you could break him."

It's a testament to how worried Robin really is about breaking Steve that she doesn't instantly rip him back out of Eddie's hands like she had when Nancy had first picked him up.

"We don't even know that's Steve," Dustin has never been gracefully about potentially not being right and now is no different.

"I know that, Henderson!" Eddie snaps, pulling Steve to his chest in a protective two armed hug, "But wouldn't you feel like shit if this is Steve, somehow magically changed, and we've accidentally murdered him by busting his little porcelain face?"

That brings Dustin to a pause and Robin starts up again, backed by Will now.

Eddie retreats, not back to the couch, but out the front door and away from the arguments. Aside from hating the sound of people yelling at each other himself, he doesn't want Steve to hear it either. Steve only enjoys an argument he can be bitchy in, and he can't really participate.

That is, if Steve can even hear anything. If this is actually Steve changed, and not just the creepiest ransom threat left in the form of a perfectly porcelain replica. Down to the moles on his face and the scars on his torso, which Robin had claimed felt like paint when she'd ran a shaking finger over them.

He sits down gently in the front lawn, crisscrossing his legs and lays Steve in the cradle they create. Blank hazel eyes stares up unblinking into the sun and Eddie finds himself hovering a hand above Steve's face to... protect his eyes, he supposes. He'll admit to feeling a little embarrassed about doing it -anyone walking down the street could see him shielding the eyes of a doll in his lap- but if Steve is trapped in there, can see out those eyes, well, he'd rather do the kind thing and be little embarrassed about it.

"Don't know if you can hear or not, Harrington," Eddie says, "but worry not. If anyone can figure out how to return you to your flesh prison, it's this crew. Not that you need my assurance on that. You know what they're capable of better than I."

It's quiet on the front lawn except for the occasional car rolling down the street or dog barking somewhere down the road. Eddie's never been a fan of quiet, so he talks to fill the silence. Not about anything really important. He recaps the current Dungeons and Dragons campaign he's running for Hellfire, which has been relocated to Jeff's dining room for the summer.

"And Will, very smart strategist that one, delayed his turn in initiative -that's the order they take turns in in combat- to cast Fireball in the room once everyone had run out of it. Worked great, especially since several of the creatures were invisible at the time and-" Eddie goes on, interrupting his own story to explain mechanics, or spells, or give backstory on why something was important, so that Steve wouldn't be too confused about everything. It probably all still sounds like a foreign language to him, or he's just tuned Eddie out, but Eddie would like to think that Steve would appreciate it.

Eddie sits outside long enough for his butt to go numb and for the sun to shift lower in the sky before he hears the front door open and close and Robin sits herself down next to Eddie.

"Come to some sort of agreement yet?" Eddie asks, turning his face towards Robin.

"No," Robin sighs, reaching a hand out. At first, Eddie thinks she's going to take Steve but she just pets at his hair for a moment before pulling her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. "El's got an idea, though. Don't know why we didn't think of it sooner. She's going to try and find Steve, y'know, with her mind. Someone will come let us know what she discovers, so no rush to head back in."

"Oh," Eddie replies dumbly, looking from Robin down to Steve. They sit quietly for a few minutes before Eddie says, "Is it wrong of me to hope that this is Steve?"

"Depends on why you hope that's Steve, I guess."

"'Cause then we know he's safe," Eddie says softly, almost a whisper. "'Cause if this is Steve then he's not... not kidnapped somewhere, alone, maybe being beaten up or tortured or- those things happen far too often."

"Then no. It's not wrong to hope. I think right there in your lap is probably the safest place Steve's been, well, ever."

"I don't know Buckley, he was pretty safe in your hands."

"I shook him around like a ragdoll, Munson," Robin levels him with a look, "I'm woman enough to admit I get caught up in my nerves and don't think of consequences. I'm not, like, the number one klutz or anything but it didn't even occur to me that we could really hurt Steve until you said it. Like, what if what happens to the doll actually happens to Steve? What happens if his arm shatters or-" she cuts herself off to pull in a shaky breath.

"Nothing is going to happen to Steve," Eddie says, voice more confident than he truly feels but comforting Robin is important. Steve usually grounds her with some bitchy look and sarcastic phrase but he's not close enough to Robin for him to be sure he wouldn't just be insulting her instead of joking. "I won't let anything happen. You won't. No one in that house would."

A deep breath from Robin, then, "yeah. You're right. You hear that Steve? We've got you, and nothing's going to happen to you except becoming a real boy again."

Eddie huffs out a laugh and sits in the quiet with Robin, waiting to be called back inside once El has made contact with Steve.

[navybrat817]

WIP Poll Game!

Rules: Make a 24 hour poll listing the titles of every WIP you want to work on. (It’s fine if you only have one, still make a poll for the vote count.) Whichever WIP title gets the most votes, write 1 sentence for every vote received.

Thanks to @vintagebuckybarnes and @theinheriteddutchess for the tags! I have quite a few WIPs, so I provided some options and you lovelies are welcome to ask about them.

NPT: @targaryenvampireslayer @jobean12-blog @astheskycries @ghotifishreads @holylulusworld @romanarose @foxgloveprincess @sergeantbarnessdoll @jen-with-a-pen @reveluving and anyone seeing this who wants to play! ❤️

[nevermindigotthis]

Maedhros WIP: Help me chose which sketch!

I want to draw Maedhros falling into the abyss. I would like to make it an image which could be the tapestry from Chapter 6 of The Harrowing by @chthonion, with the description: „On the final wall, a jagged crack cuts across the earth, blazing with molten stone, and a figure silhouetted black against that light, with rainbow fires still spilling out between the fingers of his only remaining hand, steps out into the air, captured in the very instant before he fell into the fire below.“

I have four sketches. Which one do you think fits that description best (and would look coolest and most tragic):

Let me know your thoughts in comments and reblogs, and/or vote here:

[meowmeowriley]

Changes: A Poll-Fic

(Cheeky link to ch. 2->) Ch. 2

"Remember, you're not supposed to be here, so don't do anything stupid." Love you too, Price. The Captain had caved. He'd been begging to be part of this mission since they'd gotten the lead.

Soap reached up, rubbing his gloved fingers across the teeth of his mask. The mask he'd stolen from Ghost's room. Gaz had found him clutching it, dried mixture of tears and bile coating his cheeks, and forehead pressed to the porcelain throne. He'd been banned from drinking for the foreseeable future. That was the only stupid thing he'd done. Ghost wore a mask, Ghost only spoke when he had to, Ghost was hard on the rookies, and nobody questioned his mental state. But they did, didn't they? Well Soap didn't. And nobody needed to question Soap, he was fine.

"I wanna be like you when I grow up."

"You wanna be better than me, Johnny."

Well to be better than him, first he had to be more like him. So he'd donned Ghost's mask, to better embody the man's stoicism and presence. Definitely not as a way to hide his chapped cheeks and the bags under his eyes. He'd painted it red, wore a jaw print bandana. Different. Better. Yeah.

Price had finally caved to Soap's insistence he be part of this OP, but issued his warnings. "I know you don't need to be told, but I'm saying it anyway." He'd warned. "They've had him for eight months. Torture changes people, he may not be the same."

Of course he wasn't going to be the fucking same. He didn't need to be the same, he just needed to be alive.

Ghost never really spoke about his past, only left little hints here and there, but Soap wasn't dumb. He'd been through it before. Ghost could handle the torture, and Soap could handle the aftermath.

"I'm fine." He finally answered. "It'll be by the books, Captain." As if anything they did was ever 'by the books.' Price accepted his answer, though he didn't look convinced. It was just the three of them, with Laswell listening in. Gaz was in charge of collecting data on the bio weapon that was rumored to be here, Soap was in charge of the search and rescue mission, and Price was overwatch as the two Sergeants made their way in.

The trio hopped out of the truck, and Price slapped the side, sending it away. Soap and Gaz nodded to one another before splitting up to approach the building from different angles. Price silently made his way to higher ground.

The trek was agonizing, moreso because Soap found himself feeling more impatient than usual. Every time he had to lay low and wait for a patrol to pass he could hear the sand slowly falling, trickling away in the hourglass that was the rest of Ghost's life.

"You sure know how to keep things interesting, Johnny." Ghost had smiled at him, rare that he didn't have his mask, but then again, who other than Soap would challenge the Ghost to strip poker? And who other than Soap would cheat be really really good at strip poker? So good as to force Ghost to choose between his pants and his mask, the last two articles of clothing he had on. Soap himself had only one sock, and his jumper on, choosing to doff his pants so he could keep access to the cards in his sleeves. The  unpleasant cold of the metal chair against his junk was worth it, just to see the surprising decision on Ghost's part to lose the mask and not the underwear.

"Aye, like to shake things up, Sir." He'd said with a wink as he laid yet another winning hand down, only slightly supplemented by his sleeve stash.

He was certainly always one to shake things up. Here he was, itching to shake that damn hourglass up. He'd shake it, flip it upside down, bash it over someone's head and stuff the sand down their fucking throat, if it meant he'd get more time with the enigmatic phantom that had haunted his mind since that shitshow in Mexico.

Price gave the signal, they crawled forward once more.

"This is takin' longer than a constipated snail takin' a shit." He grit out into comms once the coast was clear.

"Soap, while it's nice to hear your voice again, one more quip outta you and I'm pulling you. Watch it." Laswell had gotten the cold shoulder, she'd fed Ghost bad intel. He blamed her, he didn't, couldn't blame her. She was just as worried. Probably.

He just needed to get Ghost back. Repay his debt. Ghost had saved him back then, after all. That's what this was. An eye for an eye, but in a positive way. They were good for eachother. Fixed eachothers problems. Complimented one another, personality wise. That's all.

He crept into the building, silent and unnoticed.

They didn't have much on the layout, just the outer perimeter, so they were going in blind. That didn't bother Soap, he was thriving for the first time in months. He finally had something to do other than run the rookies into the ground.

He dodged patrols, picked off the ones he could get away with had to, using the knife he'd kicked so long ago after Ghost had left it behind.

He found some unlit stairs leading into a basement they hadn't known existed. If I were keeping an incredibly dangerous prisoner, now where would I keep him? Three sets of teeth, plastic, cloth and bone, were bared towards the darkness. He couldn't help it, he felt giddy. He tried to quell his excitement, didn't need to make any mistakes now.

He made his way, thankful for his NVG's as there were no lights, even after descending the stairs. The hallway he entered had doors along one side, nothing much in the rooms, but he cleared each one as he passed. No fuck ups.

Near the end, he found a door with seven locks. Suspicious. Good. Suspicious was good, here. The other doors had been wood, dry rotted and deteriorating, this one was metal.

His eyes itched. He flipped up his NVG's.

Curiously, whenever he blinked, Soap could've sworn he could see symbols on the door, but they'd disappear the longer he looked. He'd blink, a sickening yellow circle with lines and symbols within would appear just as he opened his eyes, but faded so quickly, he couldn't convince himself it had ever even been there. The harder he stared the more the door looked perfectly normal, if you ignored all the locks.

Many many thanks to @stuffireadandenjoy for brainstorming with me on how to make this poll fic work, and to @resident-idiot-simp for being my beta, as always ❤❤❤

(Cheeky link to Ch. 2->) Ch. 2

[dear-theodosia22]

So background info is that I have an outline for a story and though I'm not sure how long it'll be I do know it'll be at least over 50 chapters. I'm just stuck on if I should make it be a tragedy or full of angst with a happy ending

[captainblou]

Guys, I'm preparing a thing: a long smutty fic, like 80% smut, 20% feelings.

My question is: should I post it as a wip?

(I have a few other projects that I will complete before posting)

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Making a poll for this because I know people like clicky button and I crave the satisfaction of people having clicked clicky buttons.

Wips are all BSD, Trigun or HxH btw

[shadowuserannie]

You mean to tell me there are HUNDREDS of Danny Phantom getting summoned fics when there are NONE OF CARTER KANE??

Carter Kane, who is the first human Pharaoh capable of calling the Egyptian gods to war, and the first to sit on the throne in millennia? Carter Kane, one of the Killers of Apophis? Carter Kane, Eye of Horus?

You mean to tell me that in the entire multiverse, there isn't a single cult that discovers the existence of a new Pharaoh and through ungodly DC magic bullshit summons him?

No offense to Danny, but he isn't even a canon Ghost King. Carter is a canon Pharaoh.

[fabbyf1]

you got landoscar on your phone?

🤭🤭🤭

i've gone down a landoscar bender the past few days, and uh....

well.

snippet under the cut 🤠

OP: Your hand would look so good wrapped around my throat.

OP: Shit 

OP: Sorry, mate. Wrong person.

OP: (Obviously)

Lando blinked at his phone, more confused than he had ever been in his life. 

“What the fuck,” Lando muttered again, moving out of the way to let Max Fewtrell continue down the aisle in search of the Weetabix. He was back in the UK before the Silverstone weekend, staying at Max’s house since he had sold his place in Woking a few years back, but he never could have guessed that a trip to Sainsbury’s would end in an accidental sext from his teammate. 

Lando re-read the original text, his eyes flicking up to the top to make sure he had read Oscar’s name correctly (not that anybody else was asking him to choke them) and couldn’t help but chuckle again. 

Because what the actual fuck? 

It was so out of character. 

Oscar didn’t seem like the kind of guy who liked to be choked or the type to request it before breakfast, but they had never discussed their kinks before. That wasn’t something that came up in casual conversations, and their marketing team must not have thought it’d go over well for a McLaren challenge. 

So maybe Lando had no idea what he was talking about. 

Maybe Oscar was the type of guy who liked a hand around his throat, even though that seemed... impossible. Because Oscar was so... Oscar. He was quiet, unassuming, and even-tempered. He kept his facial expressions to a minimum and his opinions to himself. He was a walking mystery around the paddock. 

It’s not that he thought Oscar was a blushing virgin or anything, but choking?!  

LN: who the fuck are you sexting at 9 in the morning, oscar?  OP:You, apparently.

[blackwood4stucky]

WIP Poll Game 🤭

Y'all see what I did there? 😏

Tagged by @metalbvcky 🩶

Game Rules: Make a 24hr poll listing the titles of every WIP you want to work on. (It’s fine if you only have one, still make a poll for the vote count). Whichever WIP title gets the most votes, write 1 sentence for every vote received.

Y'all go please vote in my other poll too, it's for "the sun also delights in moonlit nights"!

No pressure tags: @kingofsorrow20 @katie-delaney @gyokujyn @readmymindao3 @dvrkblooms @museaway

[kandicon]

On the assumption that any lost body parts of the mechs still exist after removal and don't, like, disintegrate or something:

Note: since the fictions talk about all brains being rounded up and put to work no matter how small or unusable, this poll does not require that the mechs had to have their brains harvested as a whole for a brain to be counted (aka brains collected by a death from head explosion, for example, still count).

The Toy Soldier and Drumbot Brian are not included for obvious reasons, but the idea of ferrymen looking really hard to try and find their brains after they "die" and being confused is very funny to me.

[cha-melodius]

No Sentences Sunday

Basically I haven't written anything I like in at least a week (I know this isn't that long but I feel very adrift so there you go) and I'm having decision paralysis. So I've decided to get outside input for this Seven Sentence Sunday.

For more intel on these see: pro-pool players, noir au, spy soulmate au, conductor/pianist, Jurassic Park au, stuntman/director rbb fic. (Lokius and Napollya folks: the parole AU and the art thief/gallery owner AU are gonna get sprinkled in here already, so that's why they don't appear, but I do intend on working on them!)

Thanks for the tags today @kiwiana-writes, @orchidscript and @thesleepyskipper, and also for the tags for inspiration weekend plus @welcometololaland. Putting all my tags below the cut because of tumblr shenanigans, but also please take the open tag if you want it!

@clottedcreamfudge, @dumbpeachjuice, @three-drink-amy, @rmd-writes, @tintagel-or-cockleshells

@cricketnationrise, @eusuntgratie, @bigassbowlingballhead, @violetbaudelaire-quagmire, @getmehighonmagic

@magicandarchery, @wordsofhoneydew, @cactusdragon517, @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, @firenati0n

@sparklepocalypse, @leaves-of-laurelin, @14carrotghoul, @sherryvalli, @inexplicablymine

@indestructibleheart, @oxfordslutphase, @ninzied, @iboatedhere, @nontoxic-writes

@loki-is-my-kink-awakening, @mirilyawrites, @nicijones, @justabigoldnerd, @adreamareads

@pippinoftheshire, @anincompletelist, @onthewaytosomewhere

[gentrychild]

Gentry, if its alright to ask, what is your otome game au about?

This was thought when I had finished plotting RAADSC. RAADSC is a deconstruction of the BNHA tropes but it started for my love of "reincarnated into another world as the villain in a novel" stories and deconstructions so I really wanted something that played those tropes straighter.

Izuku dies (duh) and is reincarnated in a fantasy world where he is a villain of a week, a demon, and the son of the Demon Lord, who hates him (because most dads within those stories hate their kid until said kid proves that they are awesome.)

Izuku's life in his old world kinda suck so he isn't traumatized like RAADSC. He has magic now, he can fly, he is extremely rich, and unlike OG Demon Izuku, he is more than happy to never interact with his dad.

Now, unto the fun part. Izuku was not reincarnated into a novel or anytthing like it. He was actually reincarnated into a trashy yaoi video game where Yoichi is the protagonist who has to deal with a crowd of awful red-flagged love interests, with all the clichés.