A strange, square space

THREE WAYS I AM STILL A KID:

1: I laugh. All the time. When appropriate. When not appropriate.
2: I day dream.
3: I am in awe of the world. For good and for bad.

THREE WAYS I AM ALREADY OLD:
 1: I cannot sit crisscross on the floor for too long.
2:  I cannot eat anything I want to eat. Well, I can, but it’s not as easy on me as it once was.
3:  I have this awareness of the fragility of life.

Title: Three Times Mike Logan Got Fucked
Author: Squarey
Spoilers: None
Rating: M
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me.
Summary (the prompt is an excellent summary): The title probably is the summary.

Note. Written for the April smut challenge at ci_fans_unite.
(seeking permission to cross post ;)

*

One.

Title: Whoa
Author: Squarey
Pairing: Eames
Spoilers: None
Rating: T
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me.
Summary (the prompt is an excellent summary): (prompt) I’m drunk and I know what I want

written for the March challenge at ci_fans_unite. 

*
 

“Lunch.” Bobby looks at the room service table, admiring the plate of gourmet cheeses, candied fig, and empty bottle of champagne.

Alex’s eyes are focused on the sparkling diamonds scattered across the high thread count sheets on the unmade bed and the exquisite LaPerla lingerie strewn on the floor.

“Looks like they were in the middle of, um lunch, when the uniforms arrived,” Alex observes, crinkling her nose as Bobby tastes what looks to be a blue cheese.

“And a very good lunch.” He closes his eyes appreciating the fine cheese.

“I’d say so.” Alex smiles, looking at the bed.
 

uisge_beatha

Your LJ name

I’m not a square thinker or a prude or anything. In fact, I’m probably quite the opposite. But, I have led a square life. When I was younger, I thought that was maybe a bad thing. Now that I’m not-so-young (not that I'm old either), I appreciate the squareness of my life. In that, for the most part, it feels in balance.

A day in your life

Wow. I'm up at 6:00ish, I begin the race out the door to get my family to their day and get my ass to work. I adore my job and my colleagues and thank my lucky stars every day. Around 4:30ish, I race out the door from work to get my family from their day and scrape together dinner and other things and maybe some “me” time before I collapse back into bed. I love to sleep. I am terrible at sleep. I dream and dream and dream. Too much lucid dreaming, not enough sleep. I’ve been in sleep studies.

L&O: CI - to ship or not to ship

Um. I am not a romantic. So, my brain is not wired for romance. Therefore, I do not ship any character on any TV show or any movie or any book. Not LOCI specific, I’m generally not a shipper. That said, I love to read, and read, and read. And, I love TV and movies and books. So, I enjoy reading anything that is well written or sings to me or grabs me and shakes me and draws me in.

Music

I am a whore for words. I listen to the words of songs probably more than I listen to the music of a song. There’s no one particular genre. It’s all about the words. Though, that said, that clearly rules out some genres.

Favorite movies

Hrm. Did I mention, I love TV? And movies, well, they’re just even better. Um, I can say what I don’t tend to like… I don’t like porn, it makes me giggle. I don’t like gratuitous gore, I’m unaffected and bored by it and it just looks fake. Mainly my favorite movies are more about the moment… as in watching the movie with my best friend or my kids, or hell, even the husband.

Ten.

Low odds with ten, he thinks. Need to increase those odds. He’s going to need something more.

Twenty.

Hrmmmmm. Slightly better he thinks. Double from the opening, but probably still not sufficient in terms of proof.

His eyes scan for something more. With every detail he files away, the numbers go up more and more. Finally, he reaches his hand out. He’s found exactly what he needs.

Eighty six.

That’s quite reasonable he smiles, this should do the trick. Not overkill, he thinks. Just right.

The gorgeous thing about proof is it doubles the percent.

“I’ll take the Lagavulin.”

1. I've come to realize that my last kiss... will always be with my kids

2. I am listening to... Phineas and Ferb

3. I talk... animatedly

4. I love... I love – I think that says it all

5. My friends... talk when I don't feel like talking

6. My first real kiss... was when my lips touched the heads of each of my children

7. Marriage is... intricate

8. Somewhere, someone is thinking... whose that laughing?

9. I'll always... laugh, when appropriate, when not appropriate, and loudly

10. I have a secret crush… crushes aren’t secret, affairs are.

11. The last time I cried was because... my son was crying

12. When I wake up in the morning... I open the shades and look for the sun

13. Before I go to bed I... pray (me too sipman)

14. Right now I am thinking about... my cat, he’s on my lap, he’s purring, and he’s not getting any younger.

15. Babies are... for my husband, he loves babies - the kids are for me, I love the walking and talkng and laughing and hugging

16. I get on Myspace... what?

17. Today I... ate the best chocolate cupcake with chocolate frosting. Seriously.

18. Tonight I will... dream too much and sleep too little

19. Tomorrow I will be... enjoying my “stay home day”

20. I really want... more laughter

Most times when I straighten my son’s bed I find a crumpled pair of socks under his pillow. I wonder what he must do at night to end up with socks under his pillow.

This morning is very, very cold here. I’m in his room, straightening his bed, and he dashes by me and starts rooting around under his pillow.

“What’re you doing?” I ask.

“My feet are cold,” he replies as he is still digging around under his pillow. “I keep back up socks under my pillow in case my feet get cold at night.”

I had to laugh. Back-up socks to keep him warm and comfy. We all need a back up plan.

So, my new year's wish for you - may you all sleep with socks under your pillow.

Title: We don't play that slop here

Written for thursday100plus.
prompt, Fast
Bobby, first person.

***

I’m sitting in my one of my favorite places, enjoying a Sazerac neat. The bartender has my number, cause I’m pretty certain he stocks the rye just for me. Though tonight, I’m favoring watching the pool table over getting drunk. There’s a kid, 23 maybe, who’s been hustling pool for the past 2 hours or so. He’s pretty good, and he’s got a lot of money in pocket that he didn’t have when he walked in.

thursday100plus

Christmas lights, green and red and white, sparkle on the eaves of the houses. I’m sitting in my car on a familiar street in Canarsie, like some kind of criminal casing people’s houses. I wouldn’t be surprised if a uniformed officer responded to a call from a resident and came knocking on my window.

My memories are like a strobe, choppy and flashing and vivid. I read once that it is a sign of a traumatic childhood when one cannot track their memories in a fluid time line. Perhaps this is our brains way of accommodating the chaos of existence. I rationalize that maybe I remember what I can, and have forgotten what I must. Though, at times, I wish I could forget more.

sipman

Try to write within the different categories of fanfic in 10 words or less.
Law and Order, Criminal Intent, Detective Bobby Goren

Angst
I walk away, and nowadays she lets me.

Fluff
There's something in her eyes, a gentle acquiescence.

UST
She stops my brain; I stop myself from wanting her.

Bromance
A shot and a beer, every shot deserves a beer.

Hurt/ Comfort
Comfort is cold, hurt is hot. I prefer the hurt.

Adventure
I think I'll sleep in my own bed tonight.

Smut
I love the smell of her, down deep and low.

Song
You can't always get what you want...

Humor
You know what they say about shoe size?
Inversely proportional?




*Thanks Sipman! This stuff restores me.
I'm an introvert, and all of the holiday parties, and fun, and large social gatherings zaps it out of me. I love my friends, my family, my life, but my energy comes from within. And, this was a perfect thing to reset my brain.

I’m thankful for the stuffing

And the mashed potatoes too

I’m thankful for the pumpkin pie

And yummy treats that’s true -

But mostly what I’m thankful for is having friends like you and you and you and you…

(my daughter’s grace… age 4)

Happy Thanksgiving.

There are two little girls who live across the street. Not sisters, one lives to the right of us, the other to the left. They are 7 and 8. So, my son of course loves to play and loves to play with them.

Well - girls are mean. And they made him cry with their secret telling and hand holding and excluding him.

This made me so mad that I marched into the kitchen up to the refridgerator where I have the list my son and I made about who he would like to invite to the birthday party he's having in two weeks and I grabbed a big magic marker and I struck their names off the list.

Apparently I can be as mean as those little girls across the street.

Again. Go mom. (I took the list down so he cannot see my handiwork)



 

After Making Love We Hear Footsteps

Galway Kinnell

For I can snore like a bullhorn
or play loud music
or sit up talking with any reasonably sober Irishman
and Fergus will only sink deeper
into his dreamless sleep, which goes by all in one flash,
but let there be that heavy breathing
or a stifled come-cry anywhere in the house
and he will wrench himself awake
and make for it on the run—as now, we lie together,
after making love, quiet, touching along the length of our bodies,
familiar touch of the long-married,
and he appears—in his baseball pajamas, it happens,
the neck opening so small he has to screw them on—
and flops down between us and hugs us and snuggles himself to sleep,
his face gleaming with satisfaction at being this very child.

In the half darkness we look at each other
and smile
and touch arms across this little, startlingly muscled body—
this one whom habit of memory propels to the ground of his making,
sleeper only the mortal sounds can sing awake,
this blessing love gives again into our arms.