The Hubby was out having a cigarette (I don't let him smoke in the house) and when he came in he was all 'I feel like a perv...' So I was like *cocks head to the side* 'Do tell
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LOL, write that fic. Y'know, maybe the dogs are always interrupting them during sex, and then when they accidentally get out of the yard and cannot be found... the boys take drastic measures to lure them in.
I"m good, lol. Spent all day cleaning and all the last two days reading that felisblanco fic, which I loved, but now I feel like a shit writer and can't write a damned thing. LOL.
Oh My God, Felis' fic KILLED me, I literally spent the day after I finished it in a haze. I just... I want to tell her how much I loved everything about it but every time I try to sort through the best way to do that it ends up pretty incoherent. That fic makes me want to be a better writer, and I feel like I won't ever be anywhere near that good. It's like every time I sit down to try to write anything I know it'll pale in comparison. Oh well, I'll get over it eventually.
I'm doing ok. What I thought was a UTI apparently, wasn't... So I don't know what's up with that.
I'll totally give you a prompt if you are looking for something to write:
Dean's voice, when he finally speaks, is weighted down; heavy. Like there are a million tiny pebbles in his throat blocking it up. Sam knows the words aren't important. Once upon a time a million years ago they would have been. He'd have hung on every one. But now. Now the syllables mean nothing. It's the sound that Sam clings to.If you can/want to do something with it Awesome. If not that'
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I've been thinking that we're seriously in need of some PDAs from our boys to life the mood around here. You know what I read a few days ago? That Kripke let Katie Cassidy go because he intended for Ruby to hop from one meat suit to another but the reason GC is still around is because Jared is throwing his weight around on the set and wants to keep her. OMG, why would somebody say that?! It's seriously harshing my mellow.
Go and write me some making out in the garden fic. Please! *uses the dreaded puppy eyes of doom*
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How are you?
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*is stooped*
How are you?
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I'm doing ok. What I thought was a UTI apparently, wasn't... So I don't know what's up with that.
I'll totally give you a prompt if you are looking for something to write:
Dean's voice, when he finally speaks, is weighted down; heavy. Like there are a million tiny pebbles in his throat blocking it up. Sam knows the words aren't important. Once upon a time a million years ago they would have been. He'd have hung on every one. But now. Now the syllables mean nothing. It's the sound that Sam clings to.If you can/want to do something with it Awesome. If not that' ( ... )
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♥
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*Icon Love*
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I love your mind.
Also, not lame. At least you post. I've been AWOL forever, so you're doing just fine.
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*considers telepathic tracking devices*
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Go and write me some making out in the garden fic. Please! *uses the dreaded puppy eyes of doom*
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*adjusts tin hat*
She's just a beard.
It's probably not going to be much more then a snippet/ficlet but I will write them making out. For you.
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Phew. Yeah. Gotta remember that.... LOL
Are they going to be making out outside? OMG! Can't wait!!!
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