Long weekend memeage

Aug 30, 2008 12:08

I have three words for you: Four day weekend. \o/

Supernatural Season 3 DVD on Tuesday. *grabby hands*

"Still pwned" is yelling and cursing at the TV during the final moments of Devil's Trap, and crying during IMToD.

---

Because I'm in the mood, I'm doing that first lines meme. Post the first lines from your last 20 stories. Do you see any patterns? (Skipping drabbles, which I think would have to be their own meme; I do a lot of them.)


Dad has to almost carry Dean in from the car, because while Dean's on his feet, mostly his knees keep giving way, the bloodstain on his shirt widening.

They haven't even started on him yet, and already there's pain.

She kisses like someone who thought she'd forever lost the brush of skin against skin, the sight of sky, the feel of grass under bare feet, the smell of gasoline.

Sam headed over to the water fountain.

The barn smelled of mildew, rat-droppings, the layered years of sagging neglect.

There have been seven deaths and three disappearances across four counties.

Sam has the covers pulled all the way up to his chin, as if the thin blanket can protect him.

She lets him believe.

It all started with a sigh on a Tuesday morning.

By the time he was twelve, Sam Winchester was sure of three things.

"Are you quite sure about this, sir?"

Mr. Stark pushed his task chair so he zoomed out from behind a workstation littered with robotic parts.

After the hounds tore her to shreds, and the world went not so much dark, as utterly blank, Bela snapped back to consciousness thinking that she had always been a cat person for a reason.

Tony thought he must have been having one of those dreams again.

Down the north corridor, left, left, through the arch, down the steps, behind the tapestry on the south wall.

The second kiss is like the first, and Dean tries not to notice that he enjoys the feel of her body pressed against his, how her tongue is both sweet and bitter, tasting of something charred.

Der Samy, In skol we are lerning to writ, teacher helped me.

It was the latest in a string of autumn storms, each with its own unique qualities: some brought more wind, some more rain, some lasted twenty minutes and some raged an entire afternoon, leaving the yard scattered with dead leaves and broken branches.

"I'm a chump."

"I appreciate the help...and you can stop laughing now, Caleb."

---

Patterns? Um. I tend to start with dialogue. I also tend to start with long, rambling sentences, unless I start with a short sentence. Dean getting kissed or whumped seems to be an important factor (no one is shocked by that, right?)

In other patternless news, I watched the first three episodes of Mad Men and now must see more of it. It's not a fun show, but it is fun in a kind of not-fun way? It's also really, really well made. I can't seem to tear myself away. Unexpectedly, Burn Notice failed to hit any of my buttons, and on paper, that show is a button-pusher for me but in actuality, it lost me. But I haven't enjoyed a show powered by voice-over narration since Quantum Leap, and even then I thought it was a bad idea.

Hope everyone's having a great weekend!

meta: fanfic

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