Colin's a manwhore. He can't order a cheese pizza without amusing the waitstaff, but he's probably learned how to say "I want you to suck my cock" in twenty different languages. BAHAHAHAHA. BRADLEY. YOUR INTERNAL MONOLOGUE AMUSES ME. BAHAHAHA. And Colin. You...you... *grins* And props for getting Santiago! *grins obscenely*
And Bradley's cock...it is alive. It makes little first-punching gestures. And it sits up when thinking that people are calling it. And nods. And demands to come out to play. *iz ded* OMG I LOVE YOU AND THIS STORY AND IT TOTALLY HAPPENED. *squeeeee*
Colin, on the other hand, seems to be harbouring some kind of foreign lifeform in his pants. *is gleeful*
"Yes, your people, Colin. I want to understand how your people manage to survive when you avoid the people—the other people—that you like." BOYS WILL BE BOYS WHO WILL BE BOYS. This is super in character (from what we've seen from the cast diaries, at least), so woot woot for you!
Poor Bradley. I can just imagine him having imaginery conversations, and Angel looking down sadly on him with a Gwen-esque expression. *squishes you and this fic*
No, he'll give tonight a miss. He's got half a bottle of wine that Angel left a few nights ago, and he's got the telly. He'll be fine.
Twenty minutes later, after spitting out disgusting stale wine and cursing dubbed television, he's headed to the pub. BAHAHA. This fic has impeccable comic timing. XD
Maybe that's it: maybe Colin's got some secret fetish for boorish lager lads. I AM IN LOVE WITH YOUR INTERPRETATION OF BRADLEY'S BRAIN.
EPIPHANY. YES BRADLEY. USE THAT BRAIN. UUUUSEEEE IT....THAT'S IT....THINK THINK THINK YESSS!!!!!!!1
.... .... ...
There are no more capslock-ing after because I read the sex scene and FUCKING DIED A THOUSAND PLEASANT DEATHS. *pants* (Oops, lied about the capslock...)
I erm, think that Bradley should whisper to you in bed some more. He can come whisper to me after!!!! And an RPS with plot is THE BEST THING EVER. It's long and satisfying and....ngh.
*is still reeling with the power of her htousand deaths*
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
I DON'T HATE YOU I LOOOOVEEEE YOU!!!
BAHAHAHAHA. BRADLEY. YOUR INTERNAL MONOLOGUE AMUSES ME. BAHAHAHA.
And Colin. You...you... *grins* And props for getting Santiago! *grins obscenely*
And Bradley's cock...it is alive. It makes little first-punching gestures. And it sits up when thinking that people are calling it. And nods. And demands to come out to play. *iz ded* OMG I LOVE YOU AND THIS STORY AND IT TOTALLY HAPPENED. *squeeeee*
Colin, on the other hand, seems to be harbouring some kind of foreign lifeform in his pants. *is gleeful*
"Yes, your people, Colin. I want to understand how your people manage to survive when you avoid the people—the other people—that you like."
BOYS WILL BE BOYS WHO WILL BE BOYS. This is super in character (from what we've seen from the cast diaries, at least), so woot woot for you!
Poor Bradley. I can just imagine him having imaginery conversations, and Angel looking down sadly on him with a Gwen-esque expression. *squishes you and this fic*
No, he'll give tonight a miss. He's got half a bottle of wine that Angel left a few nights ago, and he's got the telly. He'll be fine.
Twenty minutes later, after spitting out disgusting stale wine and cursing dubbed television, he's headed to the pub.
BAHAHA. This fic has impeccable comic timing. XD
Maybe that's it: maybe Colin's got some secret fetish for boorish lager lads.
I AM IN LOVE WITH YOUR INTERPRETATION OF BRADLEY'S BRAIN.
EPIPHANY. YES BRADLEY. USE THAT BRAIN. UUUUSEEEE IT....THAT'S IT....THINK THINK THINK YESSS!!!!!!!1
....
....
...
There are no more capslock-ing after because I read the sex scene and FUCKING DIED A THOUSAND PLEASANT DEATHS. *pants* (Oops, lied about the capslock...)
I erm, think that Bradley should whisper to you in bed some more.
He can come whisper to me after!!!!And an RPS with plot is THE BEST THING EVER. It's long and satisfying and....ngh.*is still reeling with the power of her htousand deaths*
/end long long comment.