It Just Isn't Happening Tonight
Ugh, I'm having a serious case of writer's block. *headmattress* Oh, hello bed, you are so soft. Much easier on my brain than the keyboard or the palm.
So may plot bunnies that I can't catch even one.
Example from one partial:
He always thought her to be beautiful. He had seen her stumble out of bed, night clothes all in disarray, her hair a bloody mess, as she made her way to the kitchen for a hot mug of tea. Whenever he could, he'd hide behind the console and watch her silently go about her morning routine, listening to the sounds of water boiling, of milk pouring, of the clatter of spoon against mug as she padded back o her room and spent an hour getting ready.
Or an hour and a half.
Or perhaps 91 minutes. 93 minutes.
It varied. He counted. He always waited for her. Time had no meaning to him when it came to Rose. He'd wait forever.
Of course, not that he would ever let it on. Best not to. People, they came and they went in his life, and no matter how hard he might want to try, no matter how hard he had tried, he never could....
I think I was going for fluffy Ten/Rose there. Or maybe melancholy something or other. Hmm...
Next example:
“Me mum just called”
The Doctor looked up from the console, specs balanced carefully on his nose, and regarded her with a slight bit of annoyance.
“Oh yeah, is that right? What did she have to say?”
Rose placed her mobile on the console and sat on the couch, crossing her arms....
Valentine's Day Ten/Rose fluff...again. Something's wrong with me.
I even have another one that's got two sentences on it. *headlaptop* Ow. Sorry Marcus.
Sigh. Stop moving plot bunnies! Seriously! STOP IT!
At least I got a bunch of my to-do list from earlier done, including having fun working on the direct code for my LJ design. It sucks, but at least it's code. I like code. Code is fun.
Writer's block is not. Sigh.
So may plot bunnies that I can't catch even one.
Example from one partial:
He always thought her to be beautiful. He had seen her stumble out of bed, night clothes all in disarray, her hair a bloody mess, as she made her way to the kitchen for a hot mug of tea. Whenever he could, he'd hide behind the console and watch her silently go about her morning routine, listening to the sounds of water boiling, of milk pouring, of the clatter of spoon against mug as she padded back o her room and spent an hour getting ready.
Or an hour and a half.
Or perhaps 91 minutes. 93 minutes.
It varied. He counted. He always waited for her. Time had no meaning to him when it came to Rose. He'd wait forever.
Of course, not that he would ever let it on. Best not to. People, they came and they went in his life, and no matter how hard he might want to try, no matter how hard he had tried, he never could....
I think I was going for fluffy Ten/Rose there. Or maybe melancholy something or other. Hmm...
Next example:
“Me mum just called”
The Doctor looked up from the console, specs balanced carefully on his nose, and regarded her with a slight bit of annoyance.
“Oh yeah, is that right? What did she have to say?”
Rose placed her mobile on the console and sat on the couch, crossing her arms....
Valentine's Day Ten/Rose fluff...again. Something's wrong with me.
I even have another one that's got two sentences on it. *headlaptop* Ow. Sorry Marcus.
Sigh. Stop moving plot bunnies! Seriously! STOP IT!
At least I got a bunch of my to-do list from earlier done, including having fun working on the direct code for my LJ design. It sucks, but at least it's code. I like code. Code is fun.
Writer's block is not. Sigh.