(no subject)
I was going to make this post last night, but my internet has been down most of last night and this afternoon. That is all you need to know. I will not justify myself to you people. LOLZ Where the fuck that came from, I guess we'll never know.
Anyway, I made a Christmas graphic! Yay! I do hope that it makes you all happy in your pants. If it doesn't, oh well.
I feel like typing all centered-like, just... because. Don't judge me. I would also like to take this time to wish you all a generalized Happy Holidays, becacuse I do not feel like listing them all out. Happy Wintertime! Woohoo!
I got some pretty awesome prezzies. Most of which were, *cough*, totally unexpected and not anticipated in the slightest. Wigfield, America (The Book), Strangers With Candy boxset, Plump Fiction, aaaaand some random giftcards. Santa also gave me a bra and a slightly see-throught sweater. I do believe he is trying to tell me something, but I just cannot quite figure that something out.
Because I am an impatient bugger, PRONGS, here is that bloody fic I wrote for you. It is unbeta'd and written early in the morning on a whim, but it is written with love, so you better like it, goddamnit. =P I will give you the rest of your present later. *wink wink*
Title: Chuck's Failed Attempts at Getting Some
Fandom: STRANGERS WITH CANDY, BITCH!
Pairing: Homos
Summary: Not all attempts at having homo sex are successful. This is a very, very sad thing. Especially for Chuck.
Notes: OMG, the acronym for the title is C.F.A.G.S., which I did not do on purpose. It amuses me greatly.
Sometimes, Chuck likes to bring Geoffrey home with him. His wife is conveniently never there when he decides to do this, so he is, of course, conveniently never caught.
Except for when he almost is.
From the minute they enter Chuck's house, clothes are being ripped off and thrown about the house. A shirt rips through the air, almost knocking over a lamp, pants drape themselves over a chair, socks get caught up on the curtain rod. Neither man knows exactly how that last one happened, but they don't dwell on it, as they are too busy dwelling on certain other activities.
By the time they finally reach a bed (unlike the last few times, they actually make it to Chuck's room), the entire front of the house, plus the stairs, has been decorated with an assortment of clothing.
Chuck pushes Geoffrey down into the sheets, kissing him fiercely. Geoffrey kisses back, Chuck tangles his hands in Geoffrey's hair, and before the two can become completely lost in themselves, they hear the 'click' of the downstairs door opening.
"Shit!" Chuck yells, jumping up quickly and managing to effectively knock Geoffrey off the bed. "Get off the floor, stupid, we have to get out of here!" He pauses for a moment. "Well, I don't. I live here. With my wife. You don't."
Geoffrey gets up and glares at Chuck. "I can't just leave here naked, you know. People might faint over my gorgeous body, and I don't want to deal with bodies littering the streets."
Chuck stares at him.
Geoffrey stares back.
Chuck realises that whoever opened the front door is probably already inside the house, and he also realises that this means they may have seen the clothes that he is just now realising are all over the house. Well shit.
After putting some pants on and shoving Geoffrey under the bed ("It is DARK under here!" "Just shut up and hide!"), Chuck heads downstairs. He looks at the door, which is still open, and then he looks around.
"Hello?"
Silence.
"Helloooo?"
More silence.
"Goddamnit, I said hello so answer me!"
Still nothing.
After about a minute of yelling from the stairs, Chuck realises that no, that woman he lives with did not come home, and no, nobody else came into the house either. The door just blew open. Imagine that.
Chuck storms back into his room. "Stupid door, I'll bet it did that on purpose..." He sits on his bed and sulks. Or at least he tries to, but he is rudely interrupted by a cry of, "The darkness is CRUSHING ME!" from Geoffrey and he realises that he is still under the bed. Oops.
Seeing as Geoffrey is far too traumatized by his time under the dark, scary bed, all hope of Chuck getting any is completely lost and the two gather their clothing back up.
A few days later, over dinner, Claire turns to Chuck and asks him why he put his socks on the curtain rod.
He just bangs his head on the table.
Dude, LJ is being fucked up today for some reason. Keeps messing with my formatting. Made every other line under a different LJ cut in that fic. Oh well. Stupid LJ.
Happy Holidays, ledies and gents. I'm out.
Anyway, I made a Christmas graphic! Yay! I do hope that it makes you all happy in your pants. If it doesn't, oh well.
I feel like typing all centered-like, just... because. Don't judge me. I would also like to take this time to wish you all a generalized Happy Holidays, becacuse I do not feel like listing them all out. Happy Wintertime! Woohoo!
I got some pretty awesome prezzies. Most of which were, *cough*, totally unexpected and not anticipated in the slightest. Wigfield, America (The Book), Strangers With Candy boxset, Plump Fiction, aaaaand some random giftcards. Santa also gave me a bra and a slightly see-throught sweater. I do believe he is trying to tell me something, but I just cannot quite figure that something out.
Because I am an impatient bugger, PRONGS, here is that bloody fic I wrote for you. It is unbeta'd and written early in the morning on a whim, but it is written with love, so you better like it, goddamnit. =P I will give you the rest of your present later. *wink wink*
Title: Chuck's Failed Attempts at Getting Some
Fandom: STRANGERS WITH CANDY, BITCH!
Pairing: Homos
Summary: Not all attempts at having homo sex are successful. This is a very, very sad thing. Especially for Chuck.
Notes: OMG, the acronym for the title is C.F.A.G.S., which I did not do on purpose. It amuses me greatly.
Sometimes, Chuck likes to bring Geoffrey home with him. His wife is conveniently never there when he decides to do this, so he is, of course, conveniently never caught.
Except for when he almost is.
From the minute they enter Chuck's house, clothes are being ripped off and thrown about the house. A shirt rips through the air, almost knocking over a lamp, pants drape themselves over a chair, socks get caught up on the curtain rod. Neither man knows exactly how that last one happened, but they don't dwell on it, as they are too busy dwelling on certain other activities.
By the time they finally reach a bed (unlike the last few times, they actually make it to Chuck's room), the entire front of the house, plus the stairs, has been decorated with an assortment of clothing.
Chuck pushes Geoffrey down into the sheets, kissing him fiercely. Geoffrey kisses back, Chuck tangles his hands in Geoffrey's hair, and before the two can become completely lost in themselves, they hear the 'click' of the downstairs door opening.
"Shit!" Chuck yells, jumping up quickly and managing to effectively knock Geoffrey off the bed. "Get off the floor, stupid, we have to get out of here!" He pauses for a moment. "Well, I don't. I live here. With my wife. You don't."
Geoffrey gets up and glares at Chuck. "I can't just leave here naked, you know. People might faint over my gorgeous body, and I don't want to deal with bodies littering the streets."
Chuck stares at him.
Geoffrey stares back.
Chuck realises that whoever opened the front door is probably already inside the house, and he also realises that this means they may have seen the clothes that he is just now realising are all over the house. Well shit.
After putting some pants on and shoving Geoffrey under the bed ("It is DARK under here!" "Just shut up and hide!"), Chuck heads downstairs. He looks at the door, which is still open, and then he looks around.
"Hello?"
Silence.
"Helloooo?"
More silence.
"Goddamnit, I said hello so answer me!"
Still nothing.
After about a minute of yelling from the stairs, Chuck realises that no, that woman he lives with did not come home, and no, nobody else came into the house either. The door just blew open. Imagine that.
Chuck storms back into his room. "Stupid door, I'll bet it did that on purpose..." He sits on his bed and sulks. Or at least he tries to, but he is rudely interrupted by a cry of, "The darkness is CRUSHING ME!" from Geoffrey and he realises that he is still under the bed. Oops.
Seeing as Geoffrey is far too traumatized by his time under the dark, scary bed, all hope of Chuck getting any is completely lost and the two gather their clothing back up.
A few days later, over dinner, Claire turns to Chuck and asks him why he put his socks on the curtain rod.
He just bangs his head on the table.
Dude, LJ is being fucked up today for some reason. Keeps messing with my formatting. Made every other line under a different LJ cut in that fic. Oh well. Stupid LJ.
Happy Holidays, ledies and gents. I'm out.