Aug. 3rd, 2008 (UTC)

  • 5:28 PM (UTC)
YOU DON'T EVEN REALIZE HOW HARD I AM LAUGHING RIGHT NOW WITH THE WONDERFUL RIDICULOUSNESS OF THIS ALL. LIKE, I AM 4SRS ABOUT TO FALL OUT OF MY CHAIR.

HOLY FUCK NINA I LOVE YOU. AND [livejournal.com profile] fireworkfiasco AND [livejournal.com profile] pie_is_good AND MULDER AND SCULLY AND PORN.

***

It is 7:12 A.M. and a morning just like any other. Fox Mulder has hit his snooze button three times, and the sun has the uncanny power to shine right into his face no matter what direction he faces or how many blankets he puts over his head. And there is a naked woman in his bed.

His eyes suddenly open. Last he checked, that last part wasn't really normal.

He rolls over to see messy red hair strewn all over the pillow next to him.

Fuck, he thinks, and suddenly realizes he can't remember anything about last night.

Fuck.


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DON'T PANIC

We celebrate peace. Yet we pay no attention to the ways of curing aggression in human beings. And when one sees in psychoanalysis hostility disappearing as people conquer their fears, one wonders if the cure is not there.
The Diary of Anaïs Nin; August, 1945

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