hackthis_archive | Ah, people. Failing since evolution began.

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Ah, people. Failing since evolution began.

1. The word of the day is clusterfuckiest. Trufax.

2. I'm a big fan of the part where a summer camp that rented a pool in north PhillY for $1900 were told they weren't welcome, because they changed the complextion of the pool. Keep it classy, racist assholes!

3. If I think too hard about the confirmation hearings, I might stroke out, so...

4. YAY, Leverage premieres tonight!

5. And Matt Damon is going to be on Entourage! So, that means that Matt and Ari are going to be hanging out. And I didn't even have to write it! Yeah, I know, who's the man? All they need now is RDJ... you know since I write it and it happens. Excuse me, I have to go write myself winning ten million dollars. BRB.

6. Ryan Gosling is releasing his album in October. I WANT IT NOW.

6a. Anybody got the new Regina Spektor album (Far) that they wanna share with the class.

7. An Offer: Anybody who wants to come over here and give me a photo prompt that maybe might result in some drabble porn to make the masses happy is more than welcome.

If you just want to picspam the pretty to you know, help the general mood, that's awesome too. In fact, feel free to come and post photos and write your own porn too! But it's gotta be a photo. And SFW. It can be a party!

Mostly I'm just trying to make

romanticalgirl smile, so help a sister do a good deed.

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Nate knows he shouldn't do it. He knows that he's edging far too close to stepping over the line. The problem is that he can't quite help it. He's hip deep in shit he can't control and he's losing his faith in all the tenets he can't help but believe in and, more than all of that, he's only human.

Brad Colbert, on the other hand, everyone thinks is more than human, but Nate knows that's not the case. He's known it since the first time they met, since the first time they fucked. Brad's as human as anyone, as needy and hungry for it as the next Marine. Nate remembers the bruises Brad left, remembers how it hurt to walk and to breathe for three days afterward because neither of them could hold back, neither of them wanted to. From the first moment they wrestled each other for dominance before silent mutual agreement led to giving and taking as much as they could get.

That's why there are rules here. Nate had thought about it before, but it wasn't until Brad looked at him - stared at him - that he'd realized they needed to be verbalized, put into place. Because Brad looking at him made Nate's dick hard and made him forget how to function, made him forget the stupidity for a moment while he got lost in the memory of Brad's dick in his mouth, Brad's body around him. That's why there are rules, he has to remind himself. Because distractions can get him killed, can get Brad killed.

So Brad stops. No, Brad doesn't stop, but he's not as intent on it. He channels it into fighting with Ray and the fucked up nature of this entire operation. Nate though... Nate can't stop. Can't stop thinking about Brad. Can't stop watching Brad watch him. Can't stop remembering all the hot, pornographic things Brad had told Nate he wanted to do to Nate's mouth, all the things he did which is why, intentionally or not, Nate can't help but suck on his bottom lip, slide his tongue along it. Brad's eyes promise retribution and Nate has to nod his acquiescence, has to smile as Brad realizes.

Brad's glare promises hell to pay. Nate finds he can't wait.

"OW!" Walt's upright in seconds. "What the fuck, Trombley?!"

::stares:: Wow. Just - wow.

Walt waits for the Trombley thing. Just waits for it. He was joking when he said it, fucking around with Ray, because dammit, Ray was normally asleep 13 seconds after he came, but if he'd known Ray was going to whip out Shannon's picture, he wouldn't have said anything.

He doesn't keep one eye open when he falls asleep that night, but it's close. And then he wakes up in the morning, covered in flour and toothpaste and thinks yeah, maybe, he should've just let that one slide.

"RAY!"

There's no reply.

"Ray, you fucking cocksucker, ass licking, donkey fucker get in here now!"

There's what could only be termed snickering from the doorway. Walt wipes the flour from his face and his hand comes away red. He looks from the smears to Ray leaning in the doorway with a bowl of what's probably Captain Crunch. "What the fuck is this?" he says, waving his hand in Ray's direction.

Ray crunches as he talks. "Looks like strawberry jam to me."

"You covered me in strawberry jam."

Crunch. "And toothpaste. And flour."

Walt winces as he gets out bed, there's flour fucking everywhere. In his pubes, between his toes. Ray put toothpaste between his toes. "What the fuck is wrong with you."

Crunch. Slurp. There's milk all down Ray's chin. "You called me Trombley. You figured it out."

Walt makes a dismissive wave and some of the flour-coated jam flies off his hand and lands on the bed. He narrows his eyes as he marches over towards Ray, who is just slurping away.

"It was a fucking joke, asshole," he hisses.

Ray smiles broadly. "Look at it this way," he says, wiping his mouth with the back of his had. "All this shit will wash away. But the fact that I wrote my name on your dick? You won't be mixing that shit up again now will you?"

Walt's so shocked that he doesn't lunge for Ray until after Ray brushed a kiss over his flour encrusted mouth.

"You rabbit fucking, whiskey tango, crack pipe smoking, half-breed--" Walt hollers, chasing after Ray down the hall. He pauses when Ray flings the door open and runs outside. He's dressed. Walt is most definitely not.

"I'm telling Brad on your ass," Walt says, hiding behind the door.

Ray just laughs like a hyena from the hallway of Walt's apartment. "Who do you think gave me this idea in the first fucking place?"

Boxers baby. Too early to be in runnning shoes unless you're going for a run and nobody eats before they run and if he's just back there's no way is he sitting with that sweat all over his balls unless it involves Nate or war.

This is why you're my guru. 'Cause you're wise and shit.

Let me tell you what happens when you come back from running: you strip. Literally. Front door opens, things start flying off. Door doesn't close behind you, curtains still open, everybody gets a show, but you do not want to be stewing in that unless you have to. And on that note I am off to the gym and will be MIA for a few hours, so I'm not ignoring you, just going off to do my thing.

Oh, hello. Yes. Good diffusing there, Walt, m'boy. You're still *doomed* though.

I love that Walt actually thinks that Brad would help him get revenge for this...of course, on the one hand, I can see Brad playing for both teams. Much to Nate's amusement.

Boxers :)

Thanks so much, I'm glad you like it! :)

YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I love you! And Ray! And Walt even though Walt is a whole lot of trouble right now. They are so adorable!

Who's fucking their sister now?"

I love you, Ray!

And I love you, Walt, too! You are the expert at Ray handling and I am in awes of your Ray handling skills.

I love them! I love them! I love them! And also, I love them. And I love you! And this is so adorable and I am filled with so much happiness right now because they are the most adorable things ever.

AW!!!!!!!!!!

YAY!!! They're so... I need a different word than adorable, but adorable just fits them so well.

It was the glasses, see. Well. And the slippers. The combination of the glasses and the slippers and really, Nate couldn't be held accountable for these things.

He'd been good. Really good. There'd been a gap between his return trip home and his lease on the house he 'd shared with VJ, but that wasn't an issue because he could just crash at a motel. It was fine.

But then Brad found out—of course—and gave Nate that look and then somehow his crap was at Brad's place. Nate suspected Ray. All the talking tricked you into forgetting his ninja skills.

Still, it was...fine. Brad had an extra room and Nate was good with sleeping on a futon on the floor. It beat baked concrete any day.

Nate was assured of this and he was fine, dammit, right until he walked into the kitchen to find Brad reading the paper, wearing glasses. And slippers. With cats on them.

After that, well, who could blame him?

"This is an intriguing morning ritual," Brad said conversationally from where he was perched on top of the kitchen table. After Nate had pushed him onto it. "Not that I'm complaining."

Nate stopped from where he was licking at Brad's collarbone—his wife-beater did nothing to conceal it; Nate couldn't help himself—and met Brad's eyes.

Through glasses, which was just—

"There are cats on your slippers."

Brad raised an eyebrow. Behind glasses, Christ. He was remarkably calm given that his blue boxers were tented and all Nate had done was kiss him, push him onto the table, and start sucking on his collarbone.

Okay, maybe that warranted a hard-on.

"They were a gift from my niece. She's not old enough to have anticipated the pussy jokes."

No, she probably just wanted to outfit Uncle Brad in fluffy kitty goodness. Brad inspired that in children.

"I'm not thinking of pussy," Nate said.

Brad shifted and rubbed his knee against Nate's very hard cock. "I'd hope not."

Nate gripped the edge of the table and shut his eyes. He...really should not be that far gone. That was just sad.

"No, no, don't mind me," Brad said after a moment, making Nate open his eyes and focus.

On Brad, who had one finger rubbing at his collarbone—there'd be a mark there for sure—a finger which was even now covered in the remnants of his Wall Street Journal.

"You've got ink on your fingers," Nate said.

Brad looked at one hand, unconcerned. "Astute observation," he said dryly.

"That'll really make a mess of your white sheets."

Brad looked back to Nate and smirked. And with the glasses it was just—"Now why would I be touching my sheets with such hands?"

"You're right. Better for everyone to just stay here." That settled, Nate shoved Brad's wife-beater up his chest and lowered his mouth so he could suck at Brad's skin. He scraped his teeth along the muscles of Brad's stomach, then paused to flick his tongue into Brad's bellybutton.

Brad sucked in a sharp breath.

Next thing he knew, Brad held Nate's face in his hands and just claimed his mouth—tongue thrusting in to tangle with Nate's, a heated exploration that had Nate moaning and scrabbling for more skin within seconds. Brad refused to let him go, kept biting at Nate's lips, sucking on one and then the other before kissing him deeply again.

Nate grabbed his thighs and hauled Brad close, right to the edge of the impressively sturdy table, close enough to grind their cocks together as Brad tongue-fucked his mouth. His glasses pressed uncomfortably between them. Nate intercepted the hand on its way to move them.

"No, leave them on," he panted against Brad's mouth.

Brad smirked. "Like those, do you?" He wrapped his legs around Nate's hips and kind of rocked into him. Nate heard the dull thwap that indicated a slipper had lost its fight with gravity.

Nate groaned and moved with Brad, but wait, that wasn't what he wanted. With a frustrated sound he stepped back—

Or tried to, anyway. Brad's legs were solid around him, didn't give an inch. Nate shoved at them, to no avail.

Nate could see a question in Brad's eyes and—right, he could've misinterpreted that, Nate had kinda jumped him out of nowhere and all. So Nate leaned close again, looked Brad in the eyes and said, "I want to get on my knees and suck your cock."

Brad blinked. Behind glasses.

He let his legs fall, doubt effectively extinguished. "When you put it like that."

Nate quirked a grin at him and did just as he said—he dropped to his knees and released Brad's cock from its confines. He didn't tease, just sucked the head into his mouth and looked up at Brad.

Who still wore his glasses, lips parted, all shiny and red, and who looked down at Nate like he was some kind of revelation.

Nate sucked, cheeks hollowing, and Brad made a soft sound, hand coming to grip the back of Nate's neck. "Fuck, Nate."

Nate hmmed and went down, adjusting to the feel of him in his mouth—he hadn't done this in a long time—then back up, tongue playing along the underside, sweeping over the head. He established an easy rhythm, sinking down and then back up, taking a little more each time. No way he'd be deep-throating today; that had been a very long time ago and Nate didn't want to end up choking.

Of course Brad was well-hung; Nate hadn't expected anything less.

Not that he'd been thinking about this.

The next time he sank down, lips almost meeting the fist he had wrapped around the base, Brad's hand tightened in the hair at the back of his neck. It had grown enough now; Brad could do that.

Nate hmmed a question; Brad shuddered all over.

Now that was promising.

"You—have done this before," Brad muttered.

Nate pulled off, stroking to mollify Brad in the interim, and grinned. "What, I can't be a prodigy?"

"Is that what you are, Nate? A cock-sucking prodigy?" As he asked, he brushed his fingers over Nate's lips, no doubt swollen and redder than usual.

Nate nipped at them, then grinned when Brad pressed at his mouth, undeterred. "Could be. Either that or the boyfriend I had in college."

Brad's eyes darkened and his hand went to the back of Nate's neck again. "Stop dicking around," he said, gruff.

Nate smirked and sketched off a piss-poor salute. "Yes, sir." He bent his head before Brad could respond, took him in his mouth and went all the way down, humming along the way. He rolled Brad's balls in one hand, then explored just behind, making Brad gasp and widen his legs even more. Nate quickened his pace, stroking a finger back and forth behind Brad's balls, intent on driving Brad out of his mind.

He lasted an admirably long time. Eventually, though, Brad gave up on control. He grabbed Nate's head and thrust up into his mouth. Nate had been expecting it, pinned a hip with one hand, but for the most part let Brad set the rhythm. He let Brad use his mouth, looked up and watched Brad bite his lip, felt it when he faltered, the moaned "Nate," all the warning he got before Brad came in his mouth.

Nate swallowed, somewhat inelegant about it, but Brad didn't seem to mind. He grunted and pulled Nate up, licking at the come on his chin and then following the trail into Nate's mouth. He got a hand in Nate's pants, gripped his cock hard and tight, and then Nate was the one moaning, panting "fuck, Brad, yes," into Brad's mouth as he jerked him into an all-too-quick release.

Obviously, they needed to do that again. A lot.

Nate panted, propped against Brad and the table. He watched as Brad pulled his hand out. At Brad's tongue lapping the come from his fingers, Nate hissed Brad's name. His dick twitched.

Fuck.

Brad grinned, wicked, then pulled Nate into another kiss, seeming unconcerned by the spilled coffee, newspaper a shambles, the structural integrity of his table...

Actually, Nate didn't care about those things, either. Huh.

"That's not sanitary," Nate said eventually.

Brad asked the question with his eyes, so Nate waved to his hand. "You still had newspaper ink all over your hands."

"You object more to me ingesting ink than your come?" Brad asked.

"Well, when you put it like that it sounds silly."

Brad grinned and pulled Nate into a sloppy, wet, involved kiss. When he pulled back he smirked. "There, now we're both unsanitary. Come along, sir." He hopped off the table and headed toward his room, still wearing only one slipper. "Out of the goodness of my heart I will allow you to use my shower so you can scrub away the evils wrought by reading the paper. I'll even wash mine, too. I promise they'll be spotless before I shove them inside you and make you moan like a little bitch." His eyes glittered when he looked back at Nate.

"Well, when you put it like that."

***

Why can't I be this productive on my epics? ::pouts::

Thank you!

"I'm telling Brad on your ass," Walt says, hiding behind the door.

HE'S TELLING DAD ON RAY-RAY! AHAHAHAHA! ::dies::

SO. Cute!

No one can blame Nate for this. It was like a moral imperative. Also, hot.

::twirls:: Thank you!

Brad in glasses and kitten slippers is just too much to resist. Someone should make better use of the pussy thing, though. I wasn't feeling it.

Brad loves all his children equally. *nods*

I love them! I love them! I love them! And also, I love them. And I love you! And this is so adorable and I am filled with so much happiness right now because they are the most adorable things ever.

You know what I love about Ray and Walt? Everything with them is very basic. They're mostly happy guys, happy to hang out, happy to fuck, happy to do fuck all. Everything with Brad and Nate (as much as I love them is all epic), with Ray and Walt it's just more low-key. I dig low key.

:D

I was telling S77 that what I really like about Ray and Walt is that everything with them is basic. They eat, sleep, shit, fuck, hang out. They're basically uncomplicated guys, they wanna to be together, they're together, they do want to be together, somebody goes home. They're low key. Everything with Brad and Nate is so epic, sometimes it's really nice to just chill the hell out.

Nate suspected Ray. All the talking tricked you into forgetting his ninja skills.

That fact that Nate not only thinks, but recognizes that Ray has ninja skills fills me with unspeakable glee. GLEE YO! Fluffy kitty goodness! Ninja skills! Glasses! Fluffy fucking slippers! GLASSES! This like the goddamn sound of music up in thsi bitch and I'm singing these are a few of my favorite things!!!

You know, it occurred to me as I was pretty much [insert depraved act of choice] over A's story that goes with your art that perhaps I did not properly convey my excitement over the fact that you drew this, so perhaps some of my babbling will convey exactly how awesome you are:

Fluffy kitty goodness! Ninja skills! Glasses! Fluffy fucking slippers! GLASSES! This like the goddamn sound of music up in this bitch and I'm singing these are a few of my favorite things!!!

In short: u iz da man.

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Page 17 of 32

Ah, people. Failing since evolution began.

Re: I shall not be broken I tell you!

Re: 90 seconds starts now. PART THREE (I posted it in the wrong place)

Re: Just out of curiosity

Re: Just out of curiosity

Re: Just out of curiosity

Re: 90 seconds starts now.

Re: 90 seconds starts now. PART THREE (I posted it in the wrong place)

Re: Just out of curiosity

Re: I was aiming for something ~naughty~

Re: 90 seconds starts now.

Re: 90 seconds starts now.

Re: 90 seconds starts now. PART THREE (I posted it in the wrong place)

no subject

and then there was porn

kind of a lot of porn

rilly a lot of porn

Re: Just out of curiosity

Re: 90 seconds starts now. PART THREE (I posted it in the wrong place)

Re: rilly a lot of porn

Re: rilly a lot of porn

Re: 90 seconds starts now. PART THREE (I posted it in the wrong place)

Re: 90 seconds starts now. PART THREE (I posted it in the wrong place)

Re: 90 seconds starts now. PART THREE (I posted it in the wrong place)

Re: and then there was porn

Re: I was aiming for something ~naughty~