hiking in evening wear

How to spot a geology student:

-Wears Northface, Patagonia, L.L. Bean, or some combination of the above. If not that, they’re wearing work out gear.

-Wears Tevas, Chacos, or hiking boots every day, even though your campus definitely has paved sidewalks.

-Has a gigantic water bottle clipped onto their overly rugged backpack.

-Likes terrible puns.

-Has been to every national park in a 300 mile radius.

-Bites rocks.

-Tries to get you to bite rocks, too.

-Will not shut UP during Jurassic Park.

-Uses the word “accreted” in a non-geologic, non-ironic manner. Wonders why no one knows what it means.

-Lots of suppressed anger towards people who don’t understand the difference between paleontology and archaeology. Ten times more anger if they’re studying geoarchaeology.

-Unsure of how many rocks are in their backpack at any given time.

Clothing: Tip 4

Mixed-gender fashion can be tricky. It combines traits conventionally seen as “feminine” with “masculine” traits. Here are some tips to it:

a. Start by adding one accessory from a different gender expression than the rest of the outfit. This can be done strikingly or quite subtly. Try these: high heels, a tie, tights, a watch.

b. You can upgrade from only adding one accessory to actually adding one clothing article from a different expression. Try these: a skirt, a suit blazer, a crop top, a button-down shirt.

c. Choose the form from one gender expression and the color/texture/pattern from the other. Try these: a floral business suit, pastel hiking boots.

d. Even though not a very useful tip for everyday wear, you can also divide your outfit between a feminine and a masculine half for special occasions. This division can be done vertically or horizontally.

e. Mixed-gender fashion can also be done by combining different aspects of personal grooming. Try these: facial hair and eye makeup at the same time.

X-Files Fic: Ask Again Later

Rating: PG
Timeline: Pilot
Summary: Written for @leiascully‘s X-Files writing challenge, for “tension.”  A follow- up to “Evidence Against.”  (I smell the start of a series!)

Mulder looks down, bemused, at the five feet (barely) of soaking wet, giggling redhead standing in front of him.  She hasn’t specifically called him crazy yet, not out loud, even though she’s thinking it, he knows she is… but at the same time, she’s buying his bizarre theory, somehow, even though she doesn’t want to.  She’s standing in a small-town cemetery, in the rain, beside two open graves, laughing her head off because she thinks there’s a chance a comatose boy is leaving his bed by night to exhume the bodies of his high school classmates.  He doesn’t know her well enough to be sure, but he thinks it’s a safe bet that this is the strangest twenty-four hours she’s ever passed in her life.

“Come on,” he says, leading her away through the mud and rain-soaked grass.  "Let’s get out of here.“  She follows by his side.

"Where are we going?”

“We’re going to pay a visit to Billy Miles.”  Scully arches an eyebrow up at him as they approach the car.

“Mulder, it’s three in the morning and we’re both soaking wet,” she says.  "No way are they going to let us in to see him, not at this hour, and not looking like this.“

"Well, what do you suggest?” Mulder counters.  "I don’t know about you, but any change of clothes I had went up in flames along with our motel rooms, Scully.  I couldn’t neaten up if I wanted to.“

"We could at least dry out somewhere until a more reasonable hour,” says Scully.  "How about we grab another room at the motel, just one- not like that, Mulder!“  She rolls his eyes at his suggestive leer.  He knows he’s pushing the envelope, but he can’t help it- she’s just so straight-laced.  It’s only taken her giggling once for him to be addicted to the sound of it, and if he can get her to laugh again, it’ll make his night.  "Just for a few hours.  I don’t think a town this small is going to have any all-night diners we can camp out in.”  They reach the car, and Mulder digs out the keys.

“The rain’s gotta let up eventually,” he says.  "We can probably just sit in the car for awhile.“  Scully rolls her eyes.

"I’m freezing, Mulder.  I’d like to not be in my clothes while they’re drying out, if possible,” she says.  Mulder really, truly can’t keep himself from waggling his eyebrows at her; does she not realize how wide open she’s leaving herself?  Scully catches his expression.  "Mulder.“  She swipes her hand along the wet roof of the car, flicking rainwater into his face.  "Not.”  Another flick.  "Like.“  Flick.  ”That.“  She swipes her entire arm over the car, getting water right in his eyes.  He flinches.


“Oh, relax,” says Scully.  "You’re already wet.“  Mulder grabs her by her arm, reaches onto the roof of the car and, using his wider arm span to its full advantage, sweeps an absolute deluge of water right into Scully’s face.  She sputters and tries to jerk away, but she’s laughing, and so is he.  

He doesn’t even realize he’s still holding her arm until she stops trying to pull it out of his grasp, and by then, it’s too late: he’s already leaned down and kissed her.

Keep reading

Sam/Cait Fic (let)

Just a quick little fic to help tide y’all over while I finish the longer one. I wrote this entirely at work and was hoping to post it before I left…but my boss had come in the office. Grrr. So, here ya go. Comments are much appreciated and may be responded with a tickle or a slap, depending on your threshold ;)

Inspired by…

and uh…..

Interlude (Set a few months before the Big Sur Adventures)

Sam’s POV

I wouldn’t call it graceful, but I didn’t think it was comical either. Apparently everyone else in the crew that witnessed my tumble from the car would disagree.

It was just after 6 am, the sky still dark as I grabbed for the coffee thrust in my face with King of Men written on it. I smirked, thanked the coffee girl and pulled my parka in closer to my body as I walked with the AD to my trailer. She mumbled a few things, I nodded in response and she took off.

We were in the middle of shooting the second season finale. Heavy focus on me this morning, so with a chaste kiss to her temple and a murmured approval from her, I had left Cait sleeping in our warm bed while I, King of Men headed to the battlefield.


The morning had gone by relatively quickly as I headed back toward my trailer caked in mud. Some real. Some makeup. Caitriona was due on set soon and my feet glided across the ground a little smoother at the thought.

It didn’t seem to matter how often we were together, my insides ached whenever I left her only to be sewn up again when she was before me again. I dipped my hand into Jamie’s sporran, fumbling for the nuts I had left there yesterday, only to find something foreign.

Typically, there are any number of things in Jamie’s sporran. The wee wooden snake. Little pieces of this or that, along with some Sam munchies I thought Jamie would appreciate and my cell phone. Never anything too bulky though, to look unattractive on camera. I carried along on my way as I opened the sporran further, pulling out a folded piece of paper from a magazine. I was curious and unfolded the page and found a turned over wallet-sized photograph tucked in with it. The headline of the page stopped me dead in my tracks: Anal Sex for Beginners.

I looked around me then. Highlanders on their phones, people talking through walkie-talkies and a few people running to get first dibs on lunch. No one noticed me or the page in my hand. I turned my attention back and flipped over the photograph, only to come face to face with my wife’s ass. Well, to be more specific, she was bending over our kitchen counter, her ass front and centre in the photo as she looked over her shoulder, her face frozen in time with a cucumber placed between her lipstick-hued lips.

My heart stopped. I was literally the standing dead. I glanced at the article, then her ass, her face, then back to the article. I was fairly certain why my brain wasn’t processing anything as I could feel myself harden under my kilt. Every drop of blood in my body headed South.

We had been discussing anal for awhile. Hell, we discuss everything and anything to do with our bodies and getting pleasure from them. But I’m a large guy, even flaccid, and every time Caitriona had been in a dirty enough mood to discuss it, it was quickly shoved off the table when she would glance down my body.

I walked in a daze to my trailer, trying to read the article and glancing at the photo of Cait intermittently. The article discussed everything from broaching the subject to your partner, to preparations, making it pleasurable and finally how it generally made a woman feel. I figured not much to say on the man giving it. A simple sentence stating, tighter than a vice grip like a virgin, was pretty much all the info needed.

I popped in my trailer, shut the blinds and ignored the growling coming from my stomach. Faced with sex or food, man with inevitably choose sex. I dropped down on my couch, barely aware of the noises outside my trailer, and hiked up my kilt. I’m a true Scotsman, and even when not wearing a kilt, prefer to go commando. I took a firm grasp on my cock and started teasing myself, running my nails up and down my shaft, my eyes focused on the photo.

I know my breathing deepened and I tried to pick out when exactly she had taken the picture. Caitriona was naked with the cucumber…dear God, what was she doing with the vegetable? The counter displayed our typical array of items. Coffee maker in the corner, empty bottle of wine, fruit bowl complete with orange on top. That’s it! The orange! I had planned to have that last one on top last weekend but was distracted by a half-naked Balfe first thing in the morning. A rigorous tryst on the kitchen table between the two of us had taken my mind off anything but the round arse in front of me. But by Saturday night, I remember the orange was gone. So she had taken the photo some time during the day when I had left to go climbing.

I built up momentum on my cock. The pre-cum was coming up with a steady flow. My eyes closed periodically but I tried with all my might to focus on what was in front of me while reminiscing about the day on the table and what happened afterward between Cait and vegetables and the idea of one going up her beautiful, perky ass.

Just as I let out a loud groan, picking up the pace, my cell phone went off with a beep. I swore under my breath, but did my best to ignore it until another message sounded. I pulled the offending object from my sporran and noticed two messages from Caitriona. Intrigued, I opened the first one and nearly dropped the phone.

Picture message. I opened it and drew in a breath. Caitriona. Caitriona with the cucumber again. But in this photo, the object was completely embedded in her mouth. I could see it pushing her throat. Her eyes were closed and that beautiful ass was still centre frame. I stared at the photo and could swear I could see her lower lips puffy from our earlier actions that morning.

I smiled to myself, shaking my head, “Woman. You’ll be the death of me,” and my stilled hand began to slowly move again as I could feel my smile sink deeper into my soul.

Focusing on the new photo I was struck with confusion. How the hell did she know I just found the magazine clipping and her photo?  Just when I realized I didn’t give a shit, another messaged brightened up my phone. A video message.

With one hand grasped tightly around my prick, I hit play.

I did drop the phone then. I fumbled for it below me and pulled it up within view. Cait had the cucumber nestled between her cheeks. Not up her ass, but just at the opening. Her face was contorted in the most amazing way and I could hear her soft whimpers.  Sheer sexuality pierced through the phone straight to my cock. She rounded her anus with the cucumber, before dropping it lower and slipping it inside her pussy. The video couldn’t have been more than 10 seconds long and it stopped just as I heard her moan my name through the phone speaker as she pushed it inside herself.

I came then. My cock jerked in my hand, spilling seed everywhere. The magazine clipping, her photo, the phone and all over my hand.

I fell back against the couch, sweat dripping off my body as I let my cum-stained hand fall beside me with a soft thud.


It wasn’t two minutes later when a knock on the door pulled me out of me reverie. I straightened out my wardrobe, tucked the photo and clipping back in my sporran with my left hand and rushed to wipe off my right at the sink.

As I exited my trailer and the storm clouds set large droplets free above the Scottish terrain, I saw a figure out of my left eye that caught my attention. I turned and saw Caitriona, standing beside her trailer, idling eating a cucumber with her cell in her other hand and a smile on her face.