it was a dark and stormy night.
The first lines meme, seen here and there. ...I can has enough stories to participate in this for once? Yes I can has! I stuck with most of the SPN and SPN RPF fic I've done. Anything earlier and it gets into a haze of guitarists and superheroes (sadly, not at the same time.)
I post the first lines to some of my stories and your mission, should you choose to accept, is to write drabbles or ficlets or, heck, haiku, whatever you like, using those first lines. You can change the names and fandom.
I post the first lines to some of my stories and your mission, should you choose to accept, is to write drabbles or ficlets or, heck, haiku, whatever you like, using those first lines. You can change the names and fandom.
- It starts in Nanuet, New York, and they’re fucking twice a day at an inn, small little double beds with blue and white checkered patterns, doilies, knowing glances and antiquing places here and there, people say, gestures down long, upturning roads.
- There’s a six foot five blurry shadow shaped like one geeky kid brother playing over Bruce Campbell’s face, he of the one-liners, kick ass chainsaw, and one of the few men Dean Winchester would ever admit to having some kinda attraction, or - or crush on, or-fuck.
- “It could be worse.”
- “You know what the most fucked up part about this is?” Sam starts, voice rough, a low whisper, fingers clench and his whole body’s tense, too, ready to go off, split second and he’ll just-but he continues, leans against the doorframe, and says, “It’s the fact that I can’t get you out of my head even when you look like that.”
- It isn’t so much as a fallen star as it is a fallen man, looks like, with green eyes and a dirty mouth, but that part will have to wait.
- “There's a point to this,” Bobby starts off, grumbling at the tape recorder he’s got propped up against a stack of books that got damaged last time an exorcism went bad, coffee rings splattering the top book.
- The only requirement you needed for this job was to have a perfectly round open mouth.
- Jared decides he kind of hates Jensen Ackles.
- In college, Sam discovered the Beatles.
- One weekend, they decide to take time off.
- “This place looks familiar.”
- “It’s a disguise,” Sam says, and he isn’t laughing, all serious, especially when Dean’s holding a pair of scissors right near Sam’s forehead.
- It happened like this.
- Never mind how it comes to this, ignore how most kids'll run off to the circus, because frankly, the place that a boy called Ben runs off is far cooler than any circus, rodeo, or Candy Mountain.
- Sam sucks in a breath when the shot goes off, feels his heart hammer as the Impala skids, and he realizes he’s yelling.
- It’s a few weeks before Dean’s forty-seventh birthday when he realizes how much he’s let himself go.
- He’s worn out and haggard, thin hospital gown tight and then loose as he shifts uneasily in his sleep.
- “Me and my big mouth.”
- The first boyfriend Dean ever had wasn’t his brother.
- It’s not like Sam’s asking for trouble.
- Fuck.
- “Don’t start stripping without me!” Jared calls over his shoulder, opening the front door with one hand as he readjusts himself in his boxers with the other.
- Sunlight floods through the cracks in boarded up windows, rays of light that illuminate the dust motes in the air, trace along the old furniture, against the column of Dean’s neck.
- “Oww, God, watch what-Dean.”
- Sam wakes up, laid out on an empty stretch of road, unfamiliar straining of well-worn, too-washed material on skin.