This post is about skooshing Billy Corgan. No, seriously. That's it. Also, talking knees. ^^

[kayliemalinza]

We talked about lots more, but skooshing was a recurring theme. All skooshing-related comments have been consolidated

Comments

[rhia_starsong]

Yes, and the best part was totally you cracking up at this:
Kaylie: I love his silver pants! They're so perfect. Not painted on.
Stephanie: Yeah, they're totally like, Hi, I'm just sittin' here, keepin' your legs from being nekkid.

And the KNEES!!! Definitely skooshable. ::nods::

[kayliemalinza]

This conversation happening in OMGS RL, of course. ::nodnod::

Do you think that clothes have work ethic and professional pride? Like, ratty t-shirts are like, "aaaaah waddya want? ain't no nipples showin' or nuttin'." And like, silver pants are all like, "I MADE YOU, RANDOM EUROPEAN POP STAR!! YOU WOULD BE NOTHING WITHOUT MEEEEEE!" And business suits are like, "I feel so empty." :(

[rhia_starsong]

ooh, yeah. unless it is a business suit being worn by Toby Ziegler or Sam Seaborn.

[kayliemalinza]

Yeah, those suits are like, "That woman seems as if she's looking right through me."

[rhia_starsong]

"H-hey, why is she drooling over there?! Oh, dear, I was never meant for fingernails!" *rrrip*

[kayliemalinza]

Meanwhile, the SS has been alerted and rushed in to rectify the situation. Toby is shaken but safe. The women is in federal custody. "BUT I HAAAAD TO DO IT!" she screams. "THE BUTTONS TOLD ME TO!" The suit glances at its buttons: they wink mischievously in the fluorescents, their tiny round mouths grinning.

[rhia_starsong]

And the suit thinks it is safe for the time being, and it can go back to being filled with Toby-ness, until, from the next office, comes the horrifying *thud* which signifies a klutzy collision and Sam being in the same place and time, and there is Sam, with his tie caught in his desk drawer, and an intern yelling incoherently about stripes and wool.

[kayliemalinza]

The pain was on the tender side of unbearable, not the delicious twist and stretch of being knotted in the morning but not the sharp apocalypse of being cut or fraying, a single thread being pulled or shurred. The tie had heard stories of such tragedies, had seen the ugly consequences of them. This pinching he felt now-- it was almost sultry, like the compression of a tie clip, but the desk-drawer edge was cutting in too deeply, the tie was sure it was creased now, but then Sam was freeing it, smoothing it, rubbing his thumb deep into the wound.

[rhia_starsong]

And the silk strands breathed in and revelled in the bruising glory of sharp pain already fading yet every stroke of Sam's callused thumb imprinting a reminder on the tie's surface.

[kayliemalinza]

The silky inner coat pocket whispered, "Slut. Shameless strutting striped slut." The tie ignored the hateful words as best it could, dreaming of the suit it'd seen on the other man today; it seemed so sensible and calm. Oh, how the tie yearned to be worn with that other suit, to be snuggled against that bearded chin-- and yet the tie could not imagine a future without the tender touch of its Sam.

[rhia_starsong]

::fangirls the tie::

[rhia_starsong]

Oh, look at us, all OT here. We totally have no standards on LJ. lolz!!1!!

[rhia_starsong]

And just then, the tie felt its fibres electrified with the gentle brush of dark beard, while remaining comfortably snug against Sam's smooth neck. It was the briefest contact, almost as though the tie had willed it into being, but the scent of Toby's Ivory soap remained overlayed on Sam's cologne.

[kayliemalinza]

"Toby...?" asked Sam, his voice rising querulously. "Why are you sniffing my tie?"

[rhia_starsong]

"Sam," Toby replied with aplomb, "one never can tell about the intentions of red ties."

"...Toby?! are you drunk?" squeaked Sam.