...after "avoide."

"I work him with long, slow storkes, until his neck arches back..."

*snickers*

I realized I had given myself extended deadlines for both my stories. I had the remix due on June 6 and the ficathon due on June 11.

Which is totally wrong.

But the baby cooperated this morning by sleeping in and I got up early and there is just an outside chance that I will make the remix deadline of TOMORROW!!!!!

More likely, I will post one day late, on Monday morning.

Oops.

Daniel just storked his hair soothingly...

*snickers immaturely*

...hands trembling a little as they came to rest on his things...

*snickers*

CK: Bored.

CK: Boogers.

CK: V. bored. Also annoyed. Please send help. And large tub of cocoa bugger. Did I mention I was bored?

CK: So impossibly bored.

CJ: I'm BACK! And I brought you a 55 gallon industrial drum of cocoa bugger. Please apply it liberally to Stargate boys.

CK: Mmmmmmm. Now THERE's an image for a boring afternoon pushing paper...

CJ: [Work related muttering deleted] Um, that's not very smutty. Let's try this: Sean pried the lid off the industrial drum, full expecting it to be loaded with something boring and, well, industrial. Imagine the look of glee on his face as he dipped two fingers into the soft, creamy cocoa bugger. "Viggo! Come here, quickly!"

CK: Now I am intrigued. Why is Sean so calm, receiving a boring 55 gallon industrial drum. Cause if I got one, I wouldn't just go, hey, let's get the crowbar! I'd be like, who the fuck sent me a 55 gallon drum...