angelgazing (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
angelgazing) wrote2010-09-29 07:46 am
angelgazing) wrote2010-09-29 07:46 am
and hit the party with a gas can
Some days, you just know starting off it's not going to be worth it to get out of bed, I am totally Cobb squinting at the world, right now.
This week in Programming class we're learning about control structures. First of all, let me just detour to say that we're learning about it this week, only in the lecture on Monday we were informed that, really, in order to make the programs run successfully, we should've been using these in our last two assignments. Second of all, I sort of want to stab my professor in the ballsack. Third, and more to the point, one of these is the break statement, which is used to terminate and break you out of a loop.
I would like to apply this statement to my life.
If someone could just tell me how to get my hands on that source code, that would be fantastic, thank you.
This week in Programming class we're learning about control structures. First of all, let me just detour to say that we're learning about it this week, only in the lecture on Monday we were informed that, really, in order to make the programs run successfully, we should've been using these in our last two assignments. Second of all, I sort of want to stab my professor in the ballsack. Third, and more to the point, one of these is the break statement, which is used to terminate and break you out of a loop.
I would like to apply this statement to my life.
If someone could just tell me how to get my hands on that source code, that would be fantastic, thank you.
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...or this print. >_>
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Seconding the desire to know what you want for your birthday, and if you say "Tom Hardy," I will roll my eyes a lot.
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Again, I totally put up a list the other day. Sheesh, it's like you guys don't pay attention at all. I didn't ask for Tom Hardy. I never would! I asked for JGL. :p
And Handsome Bob/One Two fic. :DDD?
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THIS is my day today. Ugh. I totally feel your pain.
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Just, ugh, can we set the entire world on fire? Please?
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Cookie?
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*hugs*
HERE IS A SCENE FROM THE DOMESTIC!FIC WE DISCUSSED LAST NIGHT. I HOPE IT HELPS?
"No," is the gruff response, "it's a burglar."
"Oh," Eames says, looking back down, "well, in that case, there's a painting in the bedroom that I've been trying to convince Arthur to burn for months. Take it off my hands and I'll let you live, hmm?"
"Don't even fucking start," Arthur snaps, storming into the room and throwing his coat over the armchair. He bends down to drop his briefcase and starts pulling at his tie, kicking his shoes off in the process. "I swear to god, I am not above taking out my murderous impulses on you."
Eames just laughs, flipping his magazine closed. "Bad day, was it?"
"You've got no idea," Arthur growls. He straightens, and that's when Eames catches sight of the wicked shiner gracing his left eye. He raises his eyebrows.
"You've got something on your face, love," he offers. Arthur flips him off and goes into the bedroom, and Eames sighs, gets up off the couch, and goes to the freezer.
"You want to tell me about it?" he calls.
"I want to shoot someone," is Arthur's reply, muffled by whatever shirt he's pulling on. "Is that the same?"
"For you or for sane people?"
"I don't think anyone would be sane after everything that's gone pear-shaped today," is the response. Biting back his laughter--Arthur's accidental slips into British colloquialism never fail to amuse--Eames selects an unopened bag of frozen peas and shuts the door. "Seriously, I didn't think it could get any worse than Cappleman refusing to pay us again, and then I was proven entirely wrong."
"Cappleman's a tosser," Eames agrees, moving into the living room with the peas behind his back. "But that's hardly your fault."
"Cobb's not going to see it that way," Arthur grumbles, emerging in a pair of boxers and a sweatshirt. He stalks past Eames towards the kitchen. "And then I went to get the fucking bonds from that guy you told me to hire and he suddenly wants 15% more than he did last week--"
"Arthur," Eames says.
Arthur turns, mouth opened around something undoubtedly nasty, but Eames meets him halfway with his arm raised. He presses the peas into Arthur's black eye and catches him around the waist in one smooth movement, hauling him for a kiss without losing grip on the bag.
"Mmmph!" says Arthur, and then, after a second, follows up with a considerably more relaxed "mmmm." He sighs into Eames' mouth and opens his own, letting his fingers tangle with the back of Eames' shirt. Eames makes a pleased noise and grinds their hips together a little before pulling back, keeping his arm around Arthur's waist and holding the bag in place.
"Let's try this again, shall we?" he says, smiling. "Hello, darling."
"Hey," Arthur says ruefully, his mouth quirking up at the corners. "Sorry."
Eames doesn't reply, just kisses him swiftly again and then lifts the bag to peak underneath. Arthur's eye is a mottled purple, just starting to swell shut. Eames whistles. "Christ. You want to tell me who blacked your eye?"
"If you laugh," Arthur says, touching their foreheads briefly together, "I won't be the only one in this house sporting one of these."
"Noted," Eames says solemnly. Arthur sighs.
"Some little punk tried to car-jack me," he says.
Eames blinks. "You're kidding."
"Eames, he had a spray painted water gun," Arthur moans. "He tried to frighten me. With a spray painted water gun."
"I feel like I should call him," Eames says, shifting the bag a little. Arthur lets out a small, pained hiss. "I'd love to know how he managed to get the drop on you."
"He was waiting behind my car," Arthur says mournfully. "I thought he was lost, he couldn't have been more than fifteen--and then he sucker-punched me. I mean, of all the embarrassing, ridiculous--"
"That poor thing," Eames says. He releases his arm from around Arthur's waist to run a hand through his hair. "What did you do to him?"
Arthur shrugs. "I dislocated his shoulder," he admits. "And then I took his cell phone and called his parents."
"You model citizen, you," Eames laughs, running his thumb across Arthur's cheek. Arthur tries to glare at him but ends up smiling, looking ridiculous with the bag over half his face, and Eames can't resist kissing him one more time before stepping away.
Re: HERE IS A SCENE FROM THE DOMESTIC!FIC WE DISCUSSED LAST NIGHT. I HOPE IT HELPS?