#untitled drafts

[doodlesonthepaper]

" whhat i s lipstick? tasty looks.... i want to kno w..... is edible? "

- G..,.

"..Oh- oh, no!" "It's not edible, don't eat it!"

"i want to kiss you" "what?" "i said nothing" 9/10 8/12 4/6

[dailydegurechaff]

Tanya²

Today's Daily Degurechaff is… I’ll do you one better: Tanya³

(+ a small fic I never finished.)

Erich… isn’t sure what he’s seeing. He knows he’s wearing his glasses and he definitely has not been drinking… So what in the world is going on here? Why is he suddenly seeing things in triplicate?

Three of them. There are three little Degurechaff Devils in an office where there should only be one. 

When he’d knocked on her door, she’d called out that she needed a second. He hadn’t listened to her and opened it anyway. He’s regretting that now. Staring at them, both his head and his stomach are starting to hurt. 

All three of them are staring back at him. One is looking at him in abject horror, the next one’s eyes flash in recognition and she actually smiles (even more shocking, she does it in a way that isn’t uniquely terrifying, but perhaps actually cute), and the final squints at him a bit, as though she doesn’t know him. 

One of the three, the one who looks absolutely horrified, opts to greet him after a moment, “Ahaha—… Colonel Lergen… did you need something?” She sounds like she might be freaking out a bit. Erich feels similarly to her.

The second Degurechaff, the one who had smiled at him, turns her head to look at the first. She looks confused now. “Did you just say ‘Lergen?’ Not Rerugen?”

The first responds again. While she sounded nervous a second ago, it’s forgotten as she turns to her counterpart, “Seriously? You’ve been speaking this language for over a decade and your accent is that bad? Yes, I definitely said Lergen. Why would you pronounce it Rerugen?”

Now it’s the third one’s turn to speak, “No, I agree, it’s definitely pronounced Rerugen, but… this isn’t him. Rerugen has dark hair and brown eyes… and if I’m going to be honest, a fairly unfortunate haircut too. This guy looks too normal to be Rerugen.”

Degurechaff One immediately disagrees, “What are you even talking about? Lergen’s always had blonde hair and blue eyes.”

The second one backs her up, “Yeah, I agree this is definitely the right sort of coloration, but… now that I’m looking at him, Rerugen is supposed to be more handsome than this.”

“Handsome?! Has Being X poisoned your brain that badly?” Number Three yells at Number Two.

Two snaps back at her immediately, “That’s not what I meant at all, and you should know that! I meant by conventional standards! You know, stronger jawline, sharper features!”

Did— did she just say he was ugly?

Before the other two start arguing, the first one cuts them off, “Hold on. Are we sure we’re all talking about the same person here? Maybe you both are thinking of someone else, this is Colonel Erich von Lergen, my superior, formerly a part of Personnel, but now he works in Operations in the General Staff. He’s been looking out for me for a while now. For example, he made an effort to keep me off the frontlines, and when I was stationed in the southeast, he gave me a preliminary warning that Dacia would invade. Things like that. He’s a very good superior. Does any of that seem familiar?”

“Ah… that does seem to match up with who I was thinking of. I wonder why he’s so different from what I know…”

Now that Erich’s kind of over the shock now, he’s a bit tired of being talked about like he isn’t here. Interrupting the conversation between them, he finally speaks, “Degurechaff… what is going on here?”

All three seem to remember that Erich is actually here and a part of the conversation suddenly. They turn back to look at him, but none of them seem to really know what to say, faces varying shades of hesitation, confusion, or irritation.

The way they act and carry themselves is… actually slightly different. Looking closer at them, maybe it’s only that there’s one Degurechaff and two extremely close doppelgängers? If he studies them, yes they’re close enough to be siblings, but there’s differences between each.

The first one is the one he recognizes, the one who looks as he expects her to and also is getting his name and appearance correct. She’s just the slightest bit taller than the other two, but it’s a marginal thing. She’s paler than the other two in all aspects, a corpse-like pallor to her skin, hair colored platinum blonde, and eyes the color of ice. When he meets her gaze, it’s easy to tell her apart. It’d be impossible to mistake those disconcerting eyes that look a bit dead, or perhaps look like she’d want everyone around her dead if it’d bring her a bit of peace. So this one he mentally categorizes as ‘Original Degurechaff,’ or perhaps more accurately ‘The Degurechaff That I Know.’

The second one that he heard speak— the one who had called him ugly?— is the smallest of the three. Of course, Degurechaff has always been small, but this one beats the other two. Actually, she even looks younger than the others, if that was even possible, and honestly she kind of acts like it as well. She has shorter, curlier hair than the others, and it’s much brighter in color— much closer to gold than platinum blonde. Compared to the one he knows, she seems more… emotive, perhaps the best word for it is. So this one has to be ‘Little Degurechaff’ or something to that effect.

The third one is about a midpoint between the two in hair color and stature, though her hair is a right mess. A prominent flyaway sticks out of the top of her head, refusing to lay flat. Framed by pale lashes, her eyes are a more vibrant blue than either of the others, but they’re just as cold-looking and tense. He wouldn’t call any Degurechaff patient, but this one gives him the impression she’s much more irritable than the others. Her uniform is also starkly different from the other two, who are almost matching, but all three carry a recognizable Silver Wings Badge. This one… perhaps he should denote her as the ‘Irritable Degurechaff’? She’s always been irritable, though, hasn’t she?

The designations are a start, but still he has to wonder... Why? Why is this happening?

Ah, hold on. Is that it? Is this a punishment from God, specifically designed to torment me?

[please-dont-pet-the-okapi]

Thinking about the whole complaint that so many characters these days are too self-aware about their mental health, or use modern therapy-language in an unrealistically casual way.

I think part of this is we've forgotten that it's possible to write about characters (to use our modern language) healing from trauma without using therapy language to describe their experiences.

But the thing is, people have been writing about mental health for thousands of years. Thomas Hoccleve describes himself having what we would call a mental breakdown. Margery Kempe's book of visions opens with her going through post-partum depression. But the language they use is different because of when they lived.

So in light of that, I think it's important to consider what language your character would realistically use.

[eightyuh]

hello 1am gang - here is a sneak peak at one of the panels in chapter 2 🤲

[monzamash]

guys... i may or may not have just finished the lando sex tape fic that i've been banging on about for months 😂 - should i post it now or is everyone out enjoying new years eve? tell me tell me tell me pls

[olympain]

I'm the trouble you've been looking for

[tc-doherty]

as of today the 1st draft of Untitled 3 is officially finished, with a starting word count of 45,444 words!

[pfhwrittes]

Hello P, my beloved. 👋 🧡 For Talk Shop Tuesday, I'm here to very selfishly inquire after The Mummy AU. Without spoiling the story, is there one particular bit you're most excited about? A scene? Relationship dynamic?

sy, my friend! my beloved! 💜

selfishly inquire away, i am SO excited for this AU it's starting to hurt a little bit!

you know what as a treat i'm going to answer all three of those and (hopefully) i won't spoil my story too much.

the one particular bit i'm most excited about is probably where the action starts to pick up and i introduce ghost and farah into the mix properly. they both have such badass entrances to the story - especially farah.

the scene i'm most excited about is probably the last scene or maybe even the epilogue. i had those planned out at the very beginning of my blocking process. i can only hope it's as cathartic for the people that read it as it was for me to write it!

and finally, the relationship dynamic i'm most excited for is female!reader and johnny's dynamic. yes, this is a john price x female!reader endgame fic but i hope i've portrayed the familial dynamic between female!reader and johnny well enough that everyone falls a little bit in love with their platonic bond too.

and also the ghost x johnny stuff that's mostly "hidden" scenes and will be explored further in the not-quite-a-sequel- sequel but shhhh, you didn't hear that from me!

Talk Shop Tuesday

[altrodent]

Draft Tests

untitled, Joe “Coop” Cooper x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Fluff, friends to lovers, Teammate reader, language

Summary: Coop and Remer love you, but you gotta choose between em 🤭

(A/N): I dislike this one, and I haven’t been writing well recently but I have to put something out :(

Ever since highschool, you were best friends with two dimwits known as Joey Cooper and Doug Remer. You were quite literally, their only female friend but, no matter how much they try to hide it, they still both love you. As annoying as it can get, you never feel lonely, which brings you to this scenario.

“Hey, can we talk?” Coop is at your door in his Beer’s letterman jacket. “Course, come in.” He smiles before stepping in. As you close the door behind him you can’t help but feel a flutter in your heart. “So what’s up Coop?” You sit on the couch and signal him to sit next to you. “Well, I-“ he looks into your eyes “I…” a knock arrives at your door and he groans “sorry, let me get that.”

You open the door and see Remer stand ing outside your door. “Hey, dude, I really wanted to talk to you.” He smiles brightly at you. “No way, dude, go away!” Coop stands up with his hands on his hips. “Coop? What the hell, I thought we agreed that it should be me!” He walks around you making his way into “No, we didn’t agree on that, besides why do you think it should be you? You’re probably just in it for stupid reasons!” You’re dumbfounded, confused as hell about what’s happening “Uh, guys-?” They both turn to you “one second hun.” You stand there speechless. “You don’t even love her Rem, you just think she’s hot.” Coop groans and crosses his arms. “I could say the same thing for you-” you interrupt once more “Guys!” “What?!” You breathe in to try and hold in your frustration. “You two, sit down.” You shoo them onto the couch, and they sit on opposite sides, giving each other side glares and mocking faces like children. “Explain to me why the fuck you two are here talking about some shit about love” you cross your arms, neither of them respond “God, okay Coop what’s going on?” You crouch down to look at him and he looks into your eyes as his face lightens. You swear you can heard Remer mumble something about how “of course she went to him first…” coop looks you in the eye and takes your hand “I know we’ve been friends for so long, but I feel like ever since you’ve joined the team I just can’t help but feel… attracted to you- more than I was.” Your eyes widen, “You’re attracted, to me?” He rolls his eyes “well duh, everyone else has just been total cocks… you’re super cool to me, not to mention that you’re Uber hot and you’re super nice- when you want to be” he smiles brightly at you as a pink blush rises to your cheeks. “Booooo, boring, my turn!” You huff as you get up ti sit on the couch between them “So why are you here Remer- and before you start- I’ve been there all the times you’ve tried to butter women up with shit you didn’t do or can’t do.” He goes to talk and stops, the only thing he can muster is “I just think you’re schmokin’ hot.” You slap his arm and he runs out of your apartment. You lock the door, mumbling “dickhole.” You turn around and cooper is walking up to you “wanna-“ You cut him off with a kiss, your arms around his shoulder as his arms slowly snake around your torso. You pull away and look at him, biting the inside of your lip trying to contain your excitement “I was gonna ask if you wanna go practice for the game later, but this works too.” He smiles before he kisses your forehead and holds you in a warm embrace.

(A/N): again, I really don’t like this, but thank you if you read it this far! 😭💕

[autumnalwalker]

Solarpunk Witch Masterpost

Note: This is mostly just a repost of a prior post of mine, but with a more indicative title regarding its content and thus more suited to future linking and editing should I ever get around to revisiting the project and adding more.

So anyway, back when I was working on @thearchivistsjournal, I made the ambitious-but-perhaps-ill-advised attempt to simultaneously write a second ongoing journal-style story on a fixed chapter schedule. This became what I've referred to from time to time on this blog as the "Untitled Solarpunk Witch Story." It was my first attempt at writing dialogue and proper prose (as opposed to all epistolary journal format) so it came out pretty rough and I put the project on hold indefinitely. It's something I'd like to revisit one day once I feel I can better do the idea justice, but I'm fond enough of the concept that I thought it might be fun to share the couple of chapters that I wrote for that rough draft.

Also, I wrote it as a part of playing the solo journaling game "Village Witch" by Eliot Silvarian. The idea was that each week I'd do a tarot card draw and use the corresponding prompt from that game as my prompt for that week. And, similar to The Archivist's Journal, the time passing IRL would correspond to the time passing in the story, albeit broken up into bigger chunks.

So, anyway, without much further preamble, here are the links to those rough chapters:

Prologue: Setting Out

Vernal Equinox, Five of Pentacles

Spring, Week 1, Seven of Cups

Spring, Week 2, Three of Swords

Spring, Week 3, Ten of Swords

Spring, Week 4, The High Priestess

Spring, Week 5, Five of Swords

See also: The Witches' Testaments, a series of interviews serving as a prequel of sorts regarding how the world made the transition from cyberpunk dystopia to what's seen here.

Also, a bit of worldbuilding trivia as to why the familiars take the form of robotic animals: Link

[jamiesfootball]

🌤️ 🌧️ 🌈 please?

🌤️Share your favorite piece of dialogue from your WIP.

"How'd you die?" "Eh?" "How'd you die?" Jamie asked, shouting to be heard over the sound of them running drills. Dani adjusted the DeWalt in his arms. These English exercises, they did not always make sense, but he tried to be patient -- he had agreed to play for a different country, after all. "Did I die?" Dani thought back to his arrival. "I do not think I died." Jamie scoffed. "Everybody dies." "I hurt my knee before I arrived. Injured during play." Dani frowned. "I do not believe that would have killed me." Jamie side-eyed him curiously. "Was it your ACL?" Dani did not respond. He nodded decisively. "Emotional death." His friend jogged away. Dani watched him go. The walls grew higher.

🌧️Share something angsty from your WIP.

Somewhere around midday Sunday, after he'd woken up and popped some Alka-Seltzer -- despite the fact he hadn't touched a drop of alcohol, his stomach still swirled unpleasantly -- he'd taken one look at his overflowing, irritating, noisy inbox and switched his phone to mute. He didn't want to sit through a parade of consolations from everyone he'd played and worked beside for the last twenty years of his life. His sister and Phoebe could get through, and all the players knew the drill by now -- if they really needed to get ahold of him, they could send a pigeon. If the pigeon could be bothered, that was.

🌈 Share something soft/fluffy from your WIP.

"Are you patting my fucking head?" ".......No?" The feeling snarled up in Roy's throat, pressure building behind his eyes. When Roy didn't say anything against it, the hand haltingly continued. He kept his eyes screwed up tight -- if he couldn't see what was happening, then he could pretend he wasn't sulking in the car park, and Jamie wasn't in the seat next to him, and no one was awkwardly rubbing circles against the hair at the base of his skull.

[doodlesonthepaper]

..Drawing again, hm?

Hey there. I'm Doodle, just a person with a simple crush. I don't know what else to put here, Just that I'm a therapist, or something.. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ This is a role-play account strictly to just about 3 characters, Doodle, Untitled and Redzan! Please note that all three of them are adults, but are all asexual. Creator is a MINOR, so please don't do NSFW! [ ----- ✏️🎨 Warning! 🎨✏️ ----- ] Creator (@redzania) is a minor as stated, please don't get too freaky! I can allow suggestive, but not to the boundary crossing point. This is my first time holding up an ask blog! Oh, and, basic DNI, no pedophiles, no homophobes, no transphobes, you get the drill! Please be mature about things and NOT put slurs in your asks? I don't know who exactly who'd you ship Doodle with, but don't ship them with Redzan, please! And don't be a pro shipper. Mod controlled by your one and only, Redzanii! If you want to contact the mod in your question, just simply say 'To the creator,'! M!A is TOTALLY allowed! Shipping is mostly directed at Untitled drafts (Doodle and Untitled), but I really don't mind if you try rallying one of them into loving you. It'd be funny-- but probably wouldn't become true. [ ----- ✏️🎨Tags!🎨✏️ ----- ] The posting tags will be #RDZAverse, #RDAverse, #doodles speaking, #redzania replies #doodles reblog #doodles yap #untitled roomie. Also, #ooc if the creator is speaking! -- > Extra stuff under cut ^_^

[ ----- ✏️🎨Texting traits🎨✏️ ----- ]

Doodle will speak in blue text, signing off with ~ ✏️🎨. Redzan will speak in red and purple text, signing off with ~ RDZ ( if not serious ( silly! ) ) or ~ C. 💫🌎 (if serious!) Doodle's roommate (Untitled) will speak in green text and signs off with ~ 🌺🍃 Creator will speak in small text, usually blue and/or purple!

One last thing, I might accidentally forget about this blog during schooling!

Have funn everyoneee! ^^

sigh.. /pos

[itsmiyamore]

amore-core is having 5 different versions of the same fic but the last one is just "Untitled Document" because somehow its making it easier to work on when it doesn't have a title

[abronzeagegod]

Untitled YA Novel Project Part One

Part One: The Silence Comes

The zlilfian people have many things in common with the average North American honey bee, from the gold and black hair patterns to the compound eyes and wings. One of the biggest things they have in common is not just the physical similarities, like how homo sapiens have commonalities with the great apes, but that of their social hierarchy. They have three tiers in their society, most similar to gender roles, that are that of the qiin, the political head of the Great Houses that run much of the zlilfian society, the jdargandins, the minders who watch over the internal operations of the Great Houses, and the shrar, the soldiers and laborers who do the work for the Great Houses.

Chapter 1: Adventure Missed It’s Wake Up Call

7:06 AM local time

Chicago, Algonquin State, United States of America

Justin hated waking up early for school, so it was no surprise when he rolled over in bed and saw that he had missed his alarm, sleeping through it. Fortunately, or unfortunately as the case may be, he had gotten somewhat used to the early mornings and only woke up fifteen minutes late. Mornings were the worst. Why hadn’t the administration realized that teenage students wanted nothing more than to sleep until ten, or even ten thirty.

He rolled over and just slapped at the alarm clock out of half asleep muscle memory. After stomping to the bathroom, Justin brushed his teeth with mechanical disinterest. He saw how bad his hair looked, the shaggy brown hair was all over the place from the night of restless sleep. The second he got downstairs he knew that his dad was going to tell him to comb it. Might as well get that done now. He rinsed out his mouth of the strange mint flavored toothpaste and watched the water drain slowly out of the sink before cupping his hands under the faucet and wetting down his hair.

There was something about the dreary, cold November weather, and the second year of high school that really didn’t work for Justin. He didn’t want to go to school today, and even if he was late, he couldn’t bring himself to rush. This strange liminal space between being new at high school, all eager and excited, and the stressful ‘have you decided what you are going to do with the rest of your life’ junior year, was extremely dull and not all that exciting.

He didn’t try that hard with his hair since it was a losing battle anyways, and what was really the point of caring what he looked like. He was an average high school boy. Brown hair, brown eyes, tan skin tone that he got from his mom. Screw it, it didn’t matter, it was just high school.

After throwing on his clothes that were mostly clean, Justin went downstairs where he found his dad mechanically making some coffee and toast. They didn’t greet each other aside from a small nod. Alex, Justin’s father, wasn’t any more of a morning person than his son. He was off to work soon.

Luckily, Justin didn’t hear any comments from his dad about being late, or the state of his hair, or any of the usual complaints. Which was a small mercy.

The rushed breakfast was silent and still. Justin took some of the fresh made toast, liberally covered it in butter and then some cinnamon sugar, before taking it with him. He grabbed his backpack and left the house. He was going to be late for the bus, and if there was one thing he hated it was walking to school.

He must have told his dad goodbye, because that was what he always did, but he couldn’t hear himself say it.

Justin took a few bites of the toast, and chewed. He didn’t really have many thoughts in his head as he walked down the front walkway towards the bus stop. The only thing that was really there was the observation that the house was always so quiet and empty now that his mom had left.

“Justin! Hurry up! I will leave you behind!” yelled his only friend, Mike, from the bus window as the heavy truck lumbered to a squeaking halt a few houses down from Justin’s house.

This made him stop short.

The wall of sound, the shout of Mike, the rumble of the bus, the sounds of the traffic down the street. All of a sudden it was all there. The sound. It was utterly absent from within the house. Justin realized that his house was totally silent, but not in a way that was normal in any way.

“Justin! You’re going to miss the bus,” his dad called form the driveway as he left for work. The car chirping gently as he unlocked it with the remote.

“Yeah, the bus,” Justin muttered, his dad didn’t seem concerned, or he didn’t seem to notice. It’s just that he didn’t know which was worse.

Next || More

my kofi where i post everything

[satashiiwrites]

morning writing drafts

I should be working on sleepless in la. 

Big SHOULD there. 

Instead, I think i’ve come up with a name for a 911/mass effect mashup.  And been graphic editing because who wants to finish their rom com that should have been done already?  

*sigh*

Title: The First Spectre (aka previously known as untitled 911/Mass Effect space opera slowburn) chapter 1 vs prologue

Fandom: 911, Mass Effect Trilogy

Pairing: endgame Buddie (MShenko equivalent).  Assume anything else is fair game until we hit ME3 territory because i’m totally making Taylor into Miranda and Abby is going to be Liara. 

Tags/warnings: i’m still not committing to writing this monster length fic(and I do mean monster length if I go for it—like 600k of the slowest of slow burns).  In the meantime i’m evidently writing a beginning, a divorce-era horizon disaster, and can clearly picture the catalyst firing/’don’t leave me behind’ scene in all its angsty goodness. Author may be in deep trouble.  First draft.  Assume Eddie=Kaidan Alenko and Buck=MShep.  Chimney is totally Joker.  Use of military terms that may confuse some audiences and be completely inappropriate as author does not have a military background and just reads too many generation kill fics. 

Tagging because they asked @shortsighted-owl​.  If you would like to be tagged for any updates or snippets from this one please let me know. 

Lieutenant Edmundo Diaz—known to his family as Eddie or everyone else as Lt Diaz or just Diaz—sat in the copilot’s chair on the bridge listening to Flight Lieutenant Han, aka Chimney, grumble about their newest mission orders.  Eddie thought that the grumbling was mostly for show—being assigned to work under Captain Robert Nash was a coveted position and good for your career.  The Normandy (known also by it’s engineering designation as SR-118) was a new type of freighter that was a joint project between the Alliance and the alien council races. There was no ship faster or with better handling anywhere in the fleet. 

Chimney really should be happier he was getting the privilege of flying the equivalent of the most luxurious, high tech interplanetary transport ever made.  Instead, he was grumbling about scuttlebutt that he’d heard while getting his clearance physical from Dr. Wilson. 

“Did you hear who you’ll be working with?” Chimney asked Eddie, implying that Eddie should be unhappy about his new CO.  

“I heard I’d be working with Commander Buckley and there’s nothing to say.  He’s a good soldier.”

“A good soldier?!?  You heard what happened on Akuze right?  That he’s the only one who survived?”

“It means he’s capable and smart,” Eddie argued, trying to put an end to Chimney’s rant that had been going on for over a half hour.  “That’s good to have in a team CO.”

Chimney scoffed. “His entire team died except him. You going to be happy with him hanging you out to dry while he hightails it to safety?”

Eddie was beginning to think that the intel folder that had been sitting in his inbox wasn’t common knowledge as there’d just been a string of nonsensical numbers and letters as the sender’s contact information.  He’d been sent the extended—and highly classified—report on the Akuze Incident as well as the redacted official report that had been released to the press along with his official orders and a copy of Commander Buckley’s jacket. Eddie thought that Commander Buckley was lucky to have survived the first contact the Alliance had ever had with a thresher maw that had literally devoured an entire colony and then the rest of his naval special warfare unit that had been sent to investigate why the colony had gone dark.

Thresher maws were basically giant, hungry space worms with teeth the size of a small shuttle and spat acidic venom up to 3 clicks with eerie accuracy that would melt through shields and armor in less than two minutes.  If you didn’t die from the acid then you had to worry with either being eaten or crushed to death.  The damned things also hunted by noise and vibration so there was no escaping them other than getting off planet in a hurry. 

Eddie might have nightmares about incidents like Akuze.  Commander Buckley had his respect for surviving one. The fact that the commander wasn’t out of his brain and stashed in some head doctor’s padded room drooling from being drugged to the gills spoke to his mental strength and resiliency.  The rest of his military jacket was even more impressive with the noted list of assignments and commendations including that he’d graduated from the Interplanetary Combatives Training (ICT) program and was one of the rare N7s. 

Eddie’s only question was who had sent him the file—he was to be the XO for the ground team but it was highly unusual for him to have gotten this much intel up front…so who had given it to him?  It could be Captain Andersen since his name was also all over Commander Buckley’s file which suggested a mentor-mentee relationship but it could also have been the Commander himself or a third party who wanted to somehow prejudice Eddie in some way. 

He was inclined to give his new CO the benefit of the doubt and see how things went.  Paperwork often omitted some truths and as a biotic Eddie had experienced his fair share of off-the-books blowbacks and prejudices. 

Chimney, however, wasn’t.  The man was an inveterate gossip and had his ear tuned to get all the latest scuttlebutt.  Eddie had only known him for a few weeks but he knew if he needed to know anything about anybody on the ship then Chimney was the person to see. 

[lycanphobia]

wyvern tales.