'Good evening and welcome to "Trying to Get a Snog From." I’m your host, Tony Inchpractice, and tonight I shall be "Trying to Get a Snog From" John, one of Uttoxeter’s young up-and-comers. Good evening, John.'
'Damn, double damn, and an extra giant damn to keep you warm on cold winter nights.'
'Hmmm, indeed, thank you. John, I’d like to know… may I get a snog from you?'
'What in arsing damnation are you talking about?'
'A snog, John… a nice, rousing, wet tongue kiss to really get the blood moving. How about it, John?'
'Did that daughter of a hellhound Marjorie put you up to this?'
'Forgive me… Marjorie? Never heard of her. Now how about that snog?'
'Sorry, Inchpractice, I wouldn’t snog you for a bushel of Derwent Enterprises' prime stock. My, uh, business partner wouldn’t like it.'
'And there you have it, ladies and gentlemen. Bye bye.'
Sorry this took a while. You can tell it's based off a recent conversation we had. :)
~~~~~~~~ Dear Tony,
I just wanted to take some time to write and tell you how happy I am for you. I've seen how you've pined for your secret love over the years, and the fact that you're now together makes me very happy.
I used to hope that I could win your heart, but such was not to be.
Control is lucky to have you. You are the most handsome, caring, droll, polite, wonderful man I've ever met. I wish you all the best.
Yours, V
Valerie wiped away the single tear that had fallen to the paper. She had never let on how she'd felt and, shredding the paper into tiny bits and tossing them into the waste bin, she knew she never would.
The night sky over Berlin was randomly lit by exploding bombs, sending loud crashes through the air. Prisoner Donaldson barely noticed; he was conscious of very little around him after being interrogated for hour after sleepless hour. None of his tormentors' techniques had broken him; his secrets were still his own.
He was beyond exhaustion; nothing his guards did could keep him awake and coherent long enough to make it worthwhile for them to continue their questioning. Just before he slipped into unconsciousness for the final time, he heard one of them say, "Wir erhalten nirgendwo. Wir müssen ihn dem Oberleutnant nehmen." He understood "oberleutnant" and vaguely wondered what new tortures awaited him. Thankfully, then he slept.
He dreamed of escaping into the night, away from Berlin, away from the war, away from reality. Thankfully, he wasn’t alone; his companion was a German officer who had the silliest, sweetest nose; the biggest, bluest eyes; and the cutest little bum ever. It had been love at first sight, out of the blue, and Donaldson had been completely overwhelmed. He'd begged for a kiss, and when Friedrich had finally relented, it had been the most sublime experience of his life. He never wanted to be parted from his Friediekins.
Too soon, the dream ended. Donaldson stirred, keeping his head down, hiding his opening eyes as he tried to get his bearings. He was bound at the wrists, seated in a rather uncomfortable chair in what seemed to be a large office. He heard a voice in heavily accented English apologize for his colleagues and inquire about his interest in Matisse.
Then Donaldson heard the questions, asking about his mission, planned invasions, and other information his previous interrogators had unsuccessfully tried to extract. In a monotone, he spat out, "Donaldson, Eric, Major. Serial number 46589320."
Then he raised his head and found himself looking into the biggest, bluest eyes he'd ever seen. It was love at first sight, and Eric knew then that everything would be all right.
The multiplicity of characters Stephen can inhabit delights me tremendously. There's Jeeves, so stalwart and sure; Oscar Wilde, heart wrenching and broken; Peter Morton, touching and sincere. Then there are all the wonderful, silly personas he portrayed for the various comedic sketches we wrote; Stephen has always been utterly courageous onstage no matter what we managed to think up for him. There's the Stephen that the public think they know: actor, novelist, comedian, librettist, thinker, quizmaster extraordinaire. Certainly, he is all those things, not to mention excellent friend, incomparable godfather, first-rate dinner companion, indulgent uncle, caring brother, and loving son. But only one person on Earth is privileged to know the true Stephen, to understand what he's like at the depth of his sorrow, the height of his ecstasy, the pinnacle of his joy. Lying beside him, I reach for him, content and secure in the familiarity that our long friendship and the affection that we have for each other will stand forever. As we snuggle under our green down duvet, I know I'm home.
I still owe you a Tony/Control, but here's Eric and Friediekins. ;D
"Now, honey, don't you think that deserves a kiss?" Eric's voice was pleading. He sensed a stiffening inside his trousers from the desire he felt for this gorgeous creature before him; the feel of the ropes on his wrists only added to his arousal. He knew how inappropriate it all was, but his body was responding completely involuntarily at the sights and sensations around him and the emotion he felt in his heart.
Von Stoltz considered carefully. He felt quite magnanimous toward this prisoner. Donaldson had withstood hours of questioning by three of Germany's most accomplished interrogators, yet in less than 10 brief minutes in his own presence had given up vital information about the upcoming Allied invasion. If his captive was that kind of man, von Stoltz might be able to use it to his advantage to learn more.
"Well, maybe just a little one."
The look on Eric's face was pure joy as his Friediekins leaned down, close enough for their lips to lightly brush together. A surge of electricity raced through his body, and he pressed himself against his adored one's mouth harder, running his tongue over the soft moist lips.
Von Stoltz startled. He'd never expected to feel his mouth being traced like this, to feel an insistent tongue force his lips to part and then push inside. He'd never expected to feel his own tongue sliding over the intruder, prodding and sliding and exploring. He'd never expected to suddenly feel that the most important thing in his life was to kiss this man, deeply, passionately, wantonly, for hours on end.
Eric felt Friedie's hands cup his face, drawing him even closer. Eric moaned; this was pure bliss, and he loved feeling totally in his partner's control. He strained his wrists against the ropes, not trying to break free but reveling in the feel of his restraints.
Finally, he had to break the kiss to allow his lungs to refill with oxygen. His chest heaved with his panting, gulping to take in air. He saw that Friedie was doing the same and that his lips looked deliciously red and swollen.
"I love you, you gorgeous darling. You do know that, don't you, Friediekins? I don't care that we've just met, I don't care about our different backgrounds, I don't care about anything beside the fact that I love you!"
Friedrich's head was spinning. He'd never felt this way about anyone, ever. He'd never believed in love at first sight; technically, he supposed, this was more like love at first kiss. But he knew he felt for Eric was real and deep and true. He whispered softly, "Mein Liebling, ich liebe dich." As he reached for the buttons on Eric's jacket, he knew that his life would never be the same. His only loyalty now was to his love.
Deleted my previous reply 'cause I totally screwed up the italics tagging. *facepalm*
Now remember, there are all kinds of evil in the world! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The sheets of rain pounding against the windows created a steady rhythm that unnerved him. Of course, the gun pointed directly at his heart wasn't making him feel exactly safe, either.
"What do you want from me?" Jack asked, trying to sound nonchalant but inwardly trembling.
"You know what I want, Jack," his tormentor replied.
"No, I don't. Really, I don't!"
"You better figure it out, Jack. otherwise, I'm afraid I'll you'll be quite sorry before this is all over."
Just then, the door flew open. "Fred, what are you doing? Untie him this instant!"
Jack had never been so happy to see her in all his life.
"Yes, mother," sulked Fred. "I was only trying to..."
"I don't care what you think you were trying to do, you don't treat your little brother like that when I leave you in charge of watching him! And you can hand me that water pistol of yours. I don't care if it is your favorite toy; when you put red ink it and deliberately ruin perfectly good clothing, you shan't be allowed to have it!"
Ten-year-old Jack, now freed, ran to his mother's arms. She hugged him tightly and kissed the top of his head. At that moment, Jack decided he'd had enough. From now on, he'd be the one causing fear and leaving emotional scars.
Comments
Boffle - giant, bushel, what
and
Tony/Control - time, droll, not
'Damn, double damn, and an extra giant damn to keep you warm on cold winter nights.'
'Hmmm, indeed, thank you. John, I’d like to know… may I get a snog from you?'
'What in arsing damnation are you talking about?'
'A snog, John… a nice, rousing, wet tongue kiss to really get the blood moving. How about it, John?'
'Did that daughter of a hellhound Marjorie put you up to this?'
'Forgive me… Marjorie? Never heard of her. Now how about that snog?'
'Sorry, Inchpractice, I wouldn’t snog you for a bushel of Derwent Enterprises' prime stock. My, uh, business partner wouldn’t like it.'
'And there you have it, ladies and gentlemen. Bye bye.'
'DAMN!'
~~~~~~~~
Dear Tony,
I just wanted to take some time to write and tell you how happy I am for you. I've seen how you've pined for your secret love over the years, and the fact that you're now together makes me very happy.
I used to hope that I could win your heart, but such was not to be.
Control is lucky to have you. You are the most handsome, caring, droll, polite, wonderful man I've ever met. I wish you all the best.
Yours,
V
Valerie wiped away the single tear that had fallen to the paper. She had never let on how she'd felt and, shredding the paper into tiny bits and tossing them into the waste bin, she knew she never would.
Early Rising
Boffle John and Peter: Majorie,Damn,Control
and
Boffle Fredrick and Eric: Berlin, Escape, kiss
He was beyond exhaustion; nothing his guards did could keep him awake and coherent long enough to make it worthwhile for them to continue their questioning. Just before he slipped into unconsciousness for the final time, he heard one of them say, "Wir erhalten nirgendwo. Wir müssen ihn dem Oberleutnant nehmen." He understood "oberleutnant" and vaguely wondered what new tortures awaited him. Thankfully, then he slept.
He dreamed of escaping into the night, away from Berlin, away from the war, away from reality. Thankfully, he wasn’t alone; his companion was a German officer who had the silliest, sweetest nose; the biggest, bluest eyes; and the cutest little bum ever. It had been love at first sight, out of the blue, and Donaldson had been completely overwhelmed. He'd begged for a kiss, and when Friedrich had finally relented, it had been the most sublime experience of his life. He never wanted to be parted from his Friediekins.
Too soon, the dream ended. Donaldson stirred, keeping his head down, hiding his opening eyes as he tried to get his bearings. He was bound at the wrists, seated in a rather uncomfortable chair in what seemed to be a large office. He heard a voice in heavily accented English apologize for his colleagues and inquire about his interest in Matisse.
Then Donaldson heard the questions, asking about his mission, planned invasions, and other information his previous interrogators had unsuccessfully tried to extract. In a monotone, he spat out, "Donaldson, Eric, Major. Serial number 46589320."
Then he raised his head and found himself looking into the biggest, bluest eyes he'd ever seen. It was love at first sight, and Eric knew then that everything would be all right.
Hugh/Stephen
Words:
Mutiplicity
Green
Down
The multiplicity of characters Stephen can inhabit delights me tremendously. There's Jeeves, so stalwart and sure; Oscar Wilde, heart wrenching and broken; Peter Morton, touching and sincere. Then there are all the wonderful, silly personas he portrayed for the various comedic sketches we wrote; Stephen has always been utterly courageous onstage no matter what we managed to think up for him.
There's the Stephen that the public think they know: actor, novelist, comedian, librettist, thinker, quizmaster extraordinaire. Certainly, he is all those things, not to mention excellent friend, incomparable godfather, first-rate dinner companion, indulgent uncle, caring brother, and loving son.
But only one person on Earth is privileged to know the true Stephen, to understand what he's like at the depth of his sorrow, the height of his ecstasy, the pinnacle of his joy. Lying beside him, I reach for him, content and secure in the familiarity that our long friendship and the affection that we have for each other will stand forever.
As we snuggle under our green down duvet, I know I'm home.
"Now, honey, don't you think that deserves a kiss?" Eric's voice was pleading. He sensed a stiffening inside his trousers from the desire he felt for this gorgeous creature before him; the feel of the ropes on his wrists only added to his arousal. He knew how inappropriate it all was, but his body was responding completely involuntarily at the sights and sensations around him and the emotion he felt in his heart.
Von Stoltz considered carefully. He felt quite magnanimous toward this prisoner. Donaldson had withstood hours of questioning by three of Germany's most accomplished interrogators, yet in less than 10 brief minutes in his own presence had given up vital information about the upcoming Allied invasion. If his captive was that kind of man, von Stoltz might be able to use it to his advantage to learn more.
"Well, maybe just a little one."
The look on Eric's face was pure joy as his Friediekins leaned down, close enough for their lips to lightly brush together. A surge of electricity raced through his body, and he pressed himself against his adored one's mouth harder, running his tongue over the soft moist lips.
Von Stoltz startled. He'd never expected to feel his mouth being traced like this, to feel an insistent tongue force his lips to part and then push inside. He'd never expected to feel his own tongue sliding over the intruder, prodding and sliding and exploring. He'd never expected to suddenly feel that the most important thing in his life was to kiss this man, deeply, passionately, wantonly, for hours on end.
Eric felt Friedie's hands cup his face, drawing him even closer. Eric moaned; this was pure bliss, and he loved feeling totally in his partner's control. He strained his wrists against the ropes, not trying to break free but reveling in the feel of his restraints.
Finally, he had to break the kiss to allow his lungs to refill with oxygen. His chest heaved with his panting, gulping to take in air. He saw that Friedie was doing the same and that his lips looked deliciously red and swollen.
"I love you, you gorgeous darling. You do know that, don't you, Friediekins? I don't care that we've just met, I don't care about our different backgrounds, I don't care about anything beside the fact that I love you!"
Friedrich's head was spinning. He'd never felt this way about anyone, ever. He'd never believed in love at first sight; technically, he supposed, this was more like love at first kiss. But he knew he felt for Eric was real and deep and true. He whispered softly, "Mein Liebling, ich liebe dich." As he reached for the buttons on Eric's jacket, he knew that his life would never be the same. His only loyalty now was to his love.
Now remember, there are all kinds of evil in the world!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sheets of rain pounding against the windows created a steady rhythm that unnerved him. Of course, the gun pointed directly at his heart wasn't making him feel exactly safe, either.
"What do you want from me?" Jack asked, trying to sound nonchalant but inwardly trembling.
"You know what I want, Jack," his tormentor replied.
"No, I don't. Really, I don't!"
"You better figure it out, Jack. otherwise, I'm afraid I'll you'll be quite sorry before this is all over."
Just then, the door flew open. "Fred, what are you doing? Untie him this instant!"
Jack had never been so happy to see her in all his life.
"Yes, mother," sulked Fred. "I was only trying to..."
"I don't care what you think you were trying to do, you don't treat your little brother like that when I leave you in charge of watching him! And you can hand me that water pistol of yours. I don't care if it is your favorite toy; when you put red ink it and deliberately ruin perfectly good clothing, you shan't be allowed to have it!"
Ten-year-old Jack, now freed, ran to his mother's arms. She hugged him tightly and kissed the top of his head. At that moment, Jack decided he'd had enough. From now on, he'd be the one causing fear and leaving emotional scars.
WHAT A TREASURE! <3