The only sad part is that I don't get that deeply satisfying new paper smell. This is my rat_jam post-mortem. I meant to do this earlier... but I ended up mainlining doctor Who, also, recently (and completely bafflingly) curling. Man, it was the sixth rock of the seventh end, and the Canadian skiff threw this really sweet double bank, which drew the rock into the house. Canada rocks (pardon the pun) What really shocks me, is that those sentences use terminology I now understand.
Right. I wrote seven prompty thingies, here they are for posterity and my convenience.
On Guard. due South, Diefenbaker, undercover
Journal. due South, Fraser, unwritten
6:30 am, due South, Kowalski, routine
Nova; novel, Firefly, Kaylee/River, heavens
Ok, for this one, well, I was being ambitious. Sometimes that works, and sometimes...
Galut, Firefly, Mal/Sheppard Book, Psalm 137
Logic, Gilmore Girls, Paris/Rory
The ending of this one kind of bugs me, I think I wrote Rory a little too harsh. Meh.
Atlantean Morning Tea, Stargate: Atlantis, Teyla, tea
This one has spawned into this massive thing in my brain. Whether any more gets written depends on how deranged I am feeling. The end result being, however, that this feels rushed to me.