#which escalated into having dreams that i killed my fish in my sleep and woke up (in the dream) with like. fish corpses in my hand

[geraskier]

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[tatooedlaura-blog]

Cheezy Pouffs

the series read as follows:

Superman … Monday

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Contain words and thoughts deemed innappropriate for those under the age of appropirate inappropriateness ...

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She was all set and dressed for another day of work when the call came in. Overnight, they’d picked up the suspect, meaning no more bodies, no more scalpels, no more Dana in scrubs and masks. Happily, she went back to sleep for another hour before heading to the station to wrap up her end of the paperwork. While waiting on a final signature of somebody she couldn’t remember the name of, she used the power of her government agency and got herself on a flight leaving at four that afternoon, which put her back Washington at the ripe old time of 1am. Deciding to withhold that information from Mulder for surprise sake, she waited impatiently to leave, to board, to fly, to drive until she reached his apartment.

Fleetingly, she wondered when she’d get to sleep in her own bed, in her own corner of the universe but then, grabbing her carryon, she found herself grinning at the prospect of sleeping in his. She moved in silence, taking her shoes off once she got off the elevator, not wanting her heels to click him awake, preferring to surprise him in other, more entertaining ways.

She never should have worried about waking him up with the sounds of her hallway walk, given even before she slid her key in the lock, she heard noise. Figuring it had to be the TV while he dozed on the couch, she opened the door, put her luggage in first, then pushing it the rest of the way, stopped dead when she saw Frohike, Langly, Byers and Mulder all turn in unison towards her, holding handfuls of playing cards, empty Cheeto bags and beer bottles littering any and all flat surfaces.

Mulder was the first to stand, immediately tipping sideways and grabbing Frohike’s balding head to keep his balance, his cast having slipped on a forgotten pretzel bag, “Scully?!”

Standing there, she had absolutely no idea where to go or what to do, given she had her luggage at her feet, her blouse three buttons to the wind, her shoes in one hand, her keys still dangling from the other. Her mouth, she felt, had opened in surprise but she couldn’t seem to shut it, instead gaping like a fish, not able to come up with a single word to explain her ‘I’m home and here to spend the night’ stature.

The Gunmen, once they stopped throwing each other triumphant looks out of the corners of their eyes, began to stand, poised to clean up the game and run like hell from the house, to dance in the hallway in ecstatic jubilation that at least one of them might be getting some kind of sex in the future. She stopped them, however, holding up a hand, “wait. Keep you game. I’m going to head back home. I just came by to … to check on Mulder’s leg. Make sure he hadn’t done anything stupid while he was away.”

Mulder’s face broke into a grin, eyes never leaving hers even though hers tried to escape his gaze, “actually, boys, get out. I’ll clean up and cash you out later.”

Langly, because he was Langly, “how are you going to remember who’s who?”

“I’ll write it down, now get out.”

“But I started with …”

Mulder gave Frohike a look, who in turn shoved Langly out of his chair, “come on, Goldilocks, mom and dad want some alone time and they don’t give a rip about your money at the moment.”

Wanting to both smack and kiss the man, Mulder simply stood, waiting while coats were pulled on and boots were tied. Each of the three Gunmen respectfully tipped hats or nodded as they filed by Scully, careful to keep their amusement to a minimum lest she kill them with two fingers and a high heel. Once the door closed behind her and she locked it with a twist and a tug of the handle, she turned back towards him, sheepish look abounding, “I really should go. I didn’t mean to interrupt your game.”

With shoulders raised and arms out in a conciliatory gesture, “what game?” Giving a nod towards the footwear still dangling from her fingers, “would you please put those down and come here so I can kiss you?”

Clattering shoes signaled her obedience and, after weaving through the sea of bottles, she made it to him, “sorry for crashing the party.”

“Sorry I didn’t know you were coming. I’d have at least showered and not had Larry, Daryl and Daryl here for embarrassment factors.”

The next thing he heard was her chuckle before her lips tentatively brushed his, hesitant and upturned, a full-on grin moments away, tongue then wetting both mouths before she came in again, hesitancy gone as her body pressed against him.

Standing there, in the well-lit room, the smell of Fritos hanging in the air, the fish tank burbling in the background, she moved her hand to his hair and just starting to glide her fingers through it, she ran into a stray chunk of something dusty and crunchy, something resembling a Cheezy Pouff and removing it, indeed found a Cheezy Pouff. Pulling away from his mouth, she was highly amused he followed her nearly two inches before he woke up from his stupor, realizing she wanted to speak. Giving her a slow smile, eyes half-shut, lips warm and wet, “where’re you going?”

Stepping half a foot back, she held out the food formerly trapped in his hair, “did you have a food fight?”

Mulder immediately ran his hands over his head, “shit, I thought I got all those. Yeah, well, Byers threw what he thought was an empty bag at my head but there were some crumbs left. Apparently, I missed some in the cleanup process.”

She couldn’t get past Byers doing something so … un-Byerly, “was he drunk or drugged at the time?”

“No. Just pissed that I had the Jack he was looking for. Cards turn him into a completely different person, a mere mortal if you want to get down to name calling.”

With a smile, she pointed down the hall, “shower, Mulder. I don’t need to be finding snacks in the mattress.”

Eyebrow cocked, “so, staying the night?”

“Just go shower.”

He clunk-stepped his way quickly towards the bathroom while Scully debated for roughly 4 seconds about cleaning up, then said a mental ‘fuck it’ and moved to the bedroom, under the covers in record time, enjoying immensely a mattress that didn’t reek of hotel/motel/don’t ask, don’t tell.

&&&&&&&&&

Nearly 2:30am by the time he turned off the last light in the living room, he did his best to walk quietly to bed, figuring she had to be dead asleep by now. Shuffling in behind her, the first thing he registered was skin.

Not the type of skin that appears because the tanktop shifted slightly off her shoulder or the pajama pants scooted down her hip a little but honest-to-God vast expanse of smooth-as-silk skin running from peaked shoulder blade through deep dip in the back to upswell of ass. One-quarter of a heartbeat, half a breath, a twitch of a muscle later and his mouth was by her ear, “you are beautiful in the dark.”

A hitch in her ‘thank you’, muffled by baited breath, pulled him to her mouth, supple, open to him, waiting for years of memories, years of stares and gazes and endless, utter flirtatious nonsense to finally find its end game. He moved away however, after one frustrating little graze of his tongue against her and she nearly pounded the mattress in frustration at his departure, until she stupidly realized he was only moving to get his clothes off.

Her embarrassment would have normally turned her red, flustered her, made her apologize but before any thoughts could form beyond, ‘come back … comeback … comebackcomebackcomeback’ he was indeed back, the weight of him on her, his boot knocking her ankle, his bony knee sinking in the bed beside her thigh. It was a welcome and dreamed of heaviness and it sent her clit thrumming, muscles tightening at the thought of the next two minutes to 75 years of pure, mind-addling sex with him.

Problem was, he focused first on her mouth, which was wonderful, his hands moving over her gently, reverently … then he drifted down to her neck, which escalated things quite a bit … then to her collarbone, shoulder, crook of elbow and delicateness of wrist, fingertips and palm, ribcage and finally upward curve of breast … hot breathe on cool skin, moist lips on fevered flesh …

She’d had enough.

“Mulder, you know,” his mouth suckling, “how much I love,” hand holding breast, “you and appreciate you taking things,” lips moving slowly over breastbone, “slowly but I’m going to be,” thigh running lightly against thigh, “crude for a moment, if that’s all right?”

Nodding into the dip in her neck, which she’d arched back, giving full access to throat and hollow, “I like crude at times.”

She took his face in both hands, pulling him up and away so she could look at his face, “I need you to fuck me … right now. I vote for all the foreplay in the world, hours upon hours of touching, kissing, licking, sucking, the whole nine yards … later … but right now, I need you to fuck me like there’s no tomorrow, any position, anywhere, I don’t care … I just need you to fuck me.”

He had never laughed so hard in his life, in bed or otherwise and collapsing on her, body shaking as he gasped for breath, “holy shit … when you said crude, I just … I had no idea …” He then felt her chuckle, her inhale erratic and her exhale filled with giggles, her arms sliding over his back, kneading the muscles she found, her hands finding his well-sculpted ass after a moment and pulling him flush to her.

It was, however, her whispered, “I wasn’t kidding,” that calmed him enough to kiss her, position himself and slide his way in, full length, quick, deep and hard.

Her answering gasp, still flirting with giggles, made him grin, “I never thought you were kidding … I just never expected you to order me around in bed.”

With each thrust, she lost more of the English language, sentence structure collapsing under the chuffing of breath, the thwapping of skin, the rhythmic creak of the bed, all of which became faster, more urgent as the seconds passed. She lost color next, room darkening, her vision tunneling under the building pressure between them. Mulder blurred, spun, she shut her eyes against the sheer ecstasy of him inside her, around her, surrounding her.

His hand suddenly between them, thumb on clit, balls swinging a rhythmic beat against her, she came, eyes sparking behind closed lids and breath held, clenched fists pulling sheets off the corner of the mattress, cloth tangling as her head twisted, a low moan escaping into the pillow, her muscles pulling him along with her, milking every last drop until his head fell against her breast, pillowing him as he grasped for a lungful of air.

&&&&&&&

Eventually, her world re-focused, eyes open, sense of Mulder’s weight comfortably atop her. Looking over his shoulder, she smiled, then nudged his forehead with her chin, “hey, you awake?”

An acknowledging, muffled ‘yeah’ reached her ears, then he lifted his head, “’sup?”

Her grin grew, “second, we will address the use of ‘sup in bed over breakfast tomorrow but first, have you noticed your leg at all?”

Eyebrows scrunching in the illusion of deep thought, he responded in beautiful Mulder-fashion, “yes, because who gives a flying crap that the love of my universe is naked beneath me when I have a leg and holy mother of pearl, it’s attached! … no, I have not noticed my leg.”

Now she laughed, a low reverberating chuckle that carried its way through Mulder’s chest, “smart-ass. No, I mean, did you realize that I’m pretty sure we just had some fairly, well, astronomically good sex, to continue your space theme, and during it, you had your casted leg sticking up in the air the entire time?”

Looking over his shoulder as well, he nodded his surprise, “huh. Must have kept it up so it didn’t rub on you. That would explain why my knee’s aching like it is.”

Immediately, she slid up and over, helping him lay down on his back, his relieved groan hitting her ears, “oh, I’m sorry. I should have been on top.”

Mulder grabbed her face, pulling her down to kiss him, “you say the nicest things in bed.”

As she swung her leg over his hips, “once again, not kidding.”

[joshmspicer]

Omfg “talk about” is a lot cuter than ask me

Nabbed from @qookyquiche​

1: Talk about the first time you watched your favorite movie. I saw a trailer for it ages ago and I didn’t know what it was, so I decided to sit down and [watch it legally online] and I fell in love with it. Secret of Kells is a damn treasure.

2: Talk about your first kiss. Never had one.

3: Talk about the person you’ve had the most intense romantic feelings for. Oh man. If we’re talking legitimate romance than I she was my coworker and eventual employee, but I knew her for a solid three years but never could or just never did ask about her. We got along so great and had so many shared interests. She always talked about her boyfriend and how she bagged on him for caring more about himself and his school than a girlfriend, which would be fine, but he literally had no time for her and it hurt to hear.

4: Talk about the thing you regret most so far. Leaving Minneapolis completely when my dad died.

5: Talk about the best birthday you’ve had. Didny Worl

6: Talk about the worst birthday you’ve had. The one where my cat died, my dog died, or my Grandma died?

7: Talk about your biggest insecurity. I just want everyone to like me or like the person I am. If somebody doesn’t like me I’d like to figure out why.

8: Talk about the thing you are most proud of. I wrote the first draft of a novel.

9: Talk about little things on your body that you like the most. My hair. My feet.

10: Talk about the biggest fight you’ve ever had. My mom and I really got into it one time after she stole from me due to her gambling addiction than tried to kill herself (she didn’t succeed and that was years ago). Pretty sure we didn’t talk for a few days after that despite being in the same house.

11: Talk about the best dream you’ve ever had. My Grandma had died fairly recently and I had this dream where my family and I were at a mall and my Grandma came down an escalator wearing this beautiful flowing white dress. My family and I ran towards her and we all just smiled and had a good time for how little the dream lasted.

12: Talk about the worst dream you’ve ever had. Couldn’t tell you for sure but I was in bed, might’ve had sleep paralysis, but this weird creature just kinda came down from the ceiling and jumped on me. Woke up gasping. Woke my sister up in the room next door.

13: Talk about the first time you had sex/how you imagine your first time. This is weird. I guess we’re--I’d rather not. I wouldn’t know where to start.

14: Talk about a vacation. Went to the Mississippi for one of my birthdays. Stayed in a nice cabin and had a great time with my family. Went fishing a couple days, went to a mine where we were early but the guys let us come upstairs and hang around for a bit until they were ready. They gave us soda which for a kid as young as me made them instantly cool. The mine itself was awesome. I got a nice science book for my birthday that I fell in love with. I got hay fever in the middle but all in all I had a great time.

15: Talk about the time you were most content in life. Late 2011 to Early 2012. I’ve talked about it extensively but as part of the brony fandom I felt like I had found my place. I was making consistent (albeit shitty) raps, consistent (albeit shitty) stories, I was on top of the world as a mod for Mic, I felt like I could do no wrong. I didn’t have a job and stayed up until 3 AM almost everyday, sometimes later depending on the day or just if I forget to sleep or not. I even modded the stream for the January BronyCon and Alex S’ debut of “We Only Got One Life to Live” was the absolute peak moment for me.

16: Talk about the best party you’ve ever been to. I have literally never been to a party.

17: Talk about someone you want to be friends with. He’s a guy who isn’t afraid to tell you what he thinks even if he’s a fucking prick about it, but the guy is genuinely nice and wants to help you out if he trusts you. He’s a guy where I can’t tell if he likes me or not depending on the week.

18: Talk about something that happened in elementary school. Pokemon craze went wild and I had two friends that I absolutely adored and were totally into it. Almost everything we did was Pokemon related.

19: Talk about something that happened in middle school. Fuck middle school. With a fucking passion. Worst time of my life. Fuck it. Hope it burns down.

20: Talk about something that happened in high school. I looked like McLovin a lot as a freshman and as the movie had just came out, I was called that a lot. I just accepted it and rode that shit to the end. I was like by a lot of people but it still felt fake at times.

21: Talk about a time you had to turn someone down. I was in middle school. I was randomly asked by this person I don’t know. I guess we dated for like half a day but we never spoke to each other at all before or after.

22: Talk about your worst fear. I’ll be completely alone with nothing to go for me and it’ll be all my fault.

23: Talk about a time someone turned you down. Never asked anybody despite somebody apparently liking me since elementary school, even though it was obvious I liked her but apparently she didn’t want to ask?

24: Talk about something someone told you that meant a lot. A lot of the quotes I remember are shit I make up.

25: Talk about an ex-best friend. He was my best friend since middle school. I hung out at his house a lot but a lot of the time his “jokes” were pretty fucking rude and could border on sexual harassment, but since this was middle school, he was the only friend I basically had so I had to deal with him. It all came to ahead during high school when he brought along a guy who was really cool but kind of a tool, a guy who was a fucking prick but tried to hide behind the fact that he was uber fat, and a fucker who wouldn’t stop farting on you and used it as a joke while putting you down. The latter tried to fart on me again and I had enough so I grabbed the guy’s shirt and ripped it. Everybody blamed me (except for the first guy), of course, despite everything just kind of coming ahead. My “best friend”’s Dad kicked us out and sent us all home. My “best friend” dedicated a song on his CD in the car ride home to him and offered him a shirt. We dicked around in an Aegon parking lot near my house and they took my shoes, threatening to throw them in a nearby creek until a cop stopped us.

I saw my “best friend” later on when he invited me out, but because at this point I was much more confident and accepting of myself and he was still the same old dick, we didn’t do a whole lot before he took me back home. Apparently he’s doing better now? I don’t care.

26: Talk about things you do when you’re sick. Try to do not a goddamn thing but power through on my computer. Drink water and take pills.

27: Talk about your favorite part of someone else’s body. Eyes or their face.

28: Talk about your fetishes. Skirts are my true weakness. Clothed.

29: Talk about what turns you on. Skirts, again.

30: Talk about what turns you off. If somebody’s clearly not into something.

31: Talk about what you think death is like. Either we repeat the cycle with the same damn things forever, not remembering the previous life, things change in the next cycle, or we’re reincarnated as something or someone else.

32: Talk about a place you remember from your childhood. We used to live in an old office building turned into a house across the street from a church. I learned to ride my bike in their parking lot and we used to play with a ball in a back part as well as on their playground.

33: Talk about what you do when you are sad. I shut myself in and try not to let anybody know I’m not happy. A lot of people who know me still know though.

34: Talk about the worst physical pain you’ve endured. I broke my pinky on one of those rolling fences (because why not, it looked fun). My pinky nail was shoved in my hand while the ring finger and middle finger was just removed completely.

35: Talk about things you wish you could stop doing. Being so hard on myself all the fucking time. Taking everything to heart. Saying the wrong shit at the wrong time. Stuttering all the fucking time. Knowing what to do and when to do it.

36: Talk about your guilty pleasures. I don’t believe in guilty pleasures, but I guess all the animation I watch. It’s fine to talk about here, but to do it with the people I hang out with is generally impossible.

37: Talk about someone you thought you were in love with. This girl at work who I thought I liked but turned out to be somebody who loves to gossip and won’t stop bitching about people on the job.

38: Talk about songs that remind you of certain people. Nah

39: Talk about things you wish you’d known earlier. How to be confident and not take too much shit. Or to stop crying at stupid times.

40: Talk about the end of something in your life.  The last time I had a serious and legitimate connection with one of my cousins was ages ago. The last time we spoke we basically agreed that we didn’t like who we were at that time. Now she has a fiance (probably at this point, it took him long enough) and is a common horse wrangler, something she loves, and I’m much more conversational and relax.