ht_murray: little girl, cheeks, blue rose (Default)
[personal profile] ht_murray
In a word... ooky. (K, now I just started singing the Adam's Family Theme song. That can't be good. I'm all together ooky...)

So, yesterday, well, actually Saturday afternoon and through the day and night on Sunday, I had this miserable weak feeling all over, which I thought was just because I took my Trikke out for an hour and a half on Saturday, which I haven't done in a long time. There's this awesome hill with nice, fresh pavement. I couldn't resist. But Sunday, the weak and achy moved into my throat and upper chest, and I realized it wasn't just post workout crap.

Sunday was my day off working out, so no biggie. Just had to deal with work. Then, yesterday I was off work but had an interval workout planned. I thought all day I would have to skip the workout. But I kept rethinking it. I've heard if the sick is above the neck, you can workout anyway, and if it's below, you should call it off. No word on sick that's kinda in the back of your throat and moving downward. LOL. So, I went for my run anyway, and it was kinda awesome. The last time I did that workout, I crapped out in the middle. Intervals are murder! But this time, all the way through. So proud!

But today, my throat's swollen shut, and my chest rattles. Bleh.

Good news is, I finally got enough caffeine into myself to clear the headache, so I can almost think straight. I might get some writing done. I'm working my way through Nightblindness verse. This might sound like a stupid question, but would 20,000 words of porn work as a conclusion for y'all? Because that fic has been on hiatus while I scroll through all the possible ways to fix the uber mess I've landed them all in, and as cliche as it is, sex seems like the only cure. Here, has a snippet:


"Touch me." For the third time, Misha refuses, but Jared won't let it go. His voice doesn't crack so much as crunch, big, flat river rocks tamped down by a waterfall of hurt. Still breathless from the kiss, Jared leans his head into Misha's shoulder, takes his hand, and presses it along the flat of Jared's stomach and down.

And Misha gets it, then. Gets how he's more than half hard himself at that point and Jared... isn't. Gets why Jensen always kisses like he's starving. Because he is. Starving. But not for Misha. Somehow, he always knew.

Jared pulls away, then, leaves Misha sprawled against the wall, and leaps from kneeling to standing in one fluid motion. The damp on his cheeks, narrowing of his eyes, distant and determined like a prizefighter running on endorphins and nothing else. Except Misha knows the damp is tears-- self-loathing, defeat, and shame so bitter his body drains it like infection.

"That's why he needs you," Jared says, his chin squared despite the quiver over his upper lip. Then he goes, and Misha can't help but flinch when the bedroom door slams shut.

He opens his eyes, slowly, the back of his head crawling pins and needles from the bump against the wall and the abrupt absence of too-tight fingers in his hair. "No," he says, shrugging his shoulders so that most of his clothes slide back into place, "that's why he needs you."

Misha's grandpa always had this way of telling Misha he was in the way that probably amused the old guy way more than it ever amused Misha. He always said, "Boy, you make a better door than a window." And that was always Misha's cue to step off and go do whatever he was doing somewhere else.

Now, there's no extricating himself from the situation, no matter how sure he is, and he is sure, that he's fast becoming part of the problem instead of the interim solution he was meant to be. The question it seems, is how to build a window in a door.


And on the subject of the comment fic meme I mentioned in my last post about fundraising, Tracer and I were considering a 'one-scene' challenge, something where we give people the moment in time they always wanted. Y'know how, sometimes you re-read a whole fic or book just to get to that one perfect scene that you've got all dog-eared and bookmarked? Y'know how you sometimes watch the show and go, "Why don't they just.....???" Maybe you like the hurt more than the comfort, so tell us who gets hurt and how much it hurts, and we'll write it for you. Or maybe you like the comfort better, then you tell us who's hurt, and where/from whom he takes his comfort. A secret needs telling? A confession that needs to be made? A chick flick moment that just HAS to happen? Basically, y'all give us the canvas and brushes, and we'll paint the scene. One scene.

D'ya think that would fly?

Anyway, now I am sleepy. Off to bed. MWAH!
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ht_murray: little girl, cheeks, blue rose (Default)

June 2015


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