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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And you can have a big red heart too, Missy!

♥

RPS!

Well, you asked. ;)

I caption ths picture "Do you think they allow three-way marriages in Vermont?"

That is a tiny ass picture dude. I just wrote L dirty talk. Give me a minute to think on this.

Nate reaches over and touches Brad's lower lip, running the tip of his finger over the dry, chapped skin. "You better be careful, Colbert. You're going to go to my head."

Brad smiles, slow and so knowing that it makes Nate's body flush hot, his cock stiffen, makes him want. "Lie back, sir, and I'd be damn happy to."

That is SO money.

Claps like dolphin as well.

GMTA.

Fandom has utterly FAILED me on this one. I cannot tell you my sorrow. We all need huge HQ picts of that hip cock, jesus.

It IS tiny! Fandom FAILS! I do not understand how the huge-ass HQ one has not been found. ::is very put upon::

Also, for Nate's sake...how distracting is THAT? I mean, Brad just stripping off all the time? And wandering around. With people *looking* at him? Poor, poor Nate.

Ooh, dirty talk.

They're such good boys!

They are so good and pretty and wanty. Mmmmmmmm. It's quite possible that Brad wants to do dirty things to Nate, even when they're all philosophical and shit.

::twirls::

I kind of maybe love them a lot. And you. Though there's no "kind of maybe" about that last bit.

::smishes::

::flails::

Poor Nate. That's a damn long flight to have a hard on for. Of course, if he's smart (and he is, oh, he is!) he'll just start talking dirty to Brad when he lands and gets through customs and Brad's not going to be able to wait too long.

::sighs happily::

YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I love them and I love you!

Brad's kind of evil. Wow. Also... HOT!!!

Well. My brain has melted. You win!

Brad is a devious fucker and it'd be totally appalling if it didn't lead to such fabulous orgasms. Also, my thought? He totally sent him a remote controlled vibrating butt plug, without bothering to tell Nate, and will turn it on when Nate's least expecting it. And then he'll make Nate beg.

It's the smallest fucking picture ever. Brad doesn't rememeber taking it. He probably didn't. He can't even figure out how Nate got it. Probably from Poke who probably got it from Lilley, who videotaped the entire war and should probably get a job as a cameraman for CNN.

The photo is there though. Hidden through like eighteen different folders, but it's proof.

Of all the things Brad's found snooping around on Nate's laptop this is the only thing that tells him anything. Even Nate's manuscript for his book is carefully devoid of any recognizable descriptions anywhere. About him. About them. Not that there's a them.

Brad looks at the thumbnail photo. It's just him. It's him shirtless true, but it was about 130 degrees every fucking day, he had to take off his shirt sometimes just to stop smelling himself.

He looks up from the laptop when Nate clears his throat, beer on offer in his outstretched hand. Brad looks from the beer to Nate's face and smiles toothily. "What?" Nate says suspiciously.

Brad spins the computer 180 degrees on his lap. "Nice photo," he says benignly.

Nate narrows his eyes, leans in a little more. Brad sees it when Nate's hand tightens around the beer, even if his smile is deceptively bland. "Looking at photos of yourself, Brad? Feeling a little narcissitic today?"

Brad shakes his head, lifts the laptop away from him before setting it on the coffee table. "Try again, sir."

"I'm not your comanding officer anymore," Nate reminds him, taking a step back when Brad gets to his feet. Unfurling himself to strike.

Brad nods his head, takes the beer out of Nate's hand and sets next to the laptop. "That's a bad idea," Nate says, gesturing to the beer. "If it spills and I lose my manuscript, I'm going to kill you."

Brad takes a step forward. "You have your book backed up on two separate hard drives and a upload site on the internet. I checked."

Nate shakes his head with a laugh. "So fucking nosy."

"Recon Marine, sir. Plus, if you have things on the internet, people are going to find them. Like that photo of me."

"That wasn't on the intern-- shit."

Brad smiles sharply. "I know."

Nate swallows, lifts his head, chin out defiantly. Daring Brad to say something. And this -- this is what burns low in Brad's gut late at night when he's in the barracks and Nate's across the pond.

This is what he's been waiting for. This sign.

He licks his lips, staring blatantly at Nate's mouth. "You could have the real thing," he says. "It's better thsn the photo."

Nate blinks, eyes wide. "Brad." His voice is everything, a warning, a plea, an offer.

Brad steps in, closes the space between them. He leans down into Nate's space until they're nose to nose, until Brad's lips are brushing against Nate's mouth and they're sharing the same air. "I'm going to kiss you now," he says softly. "And it's going to blow your fucking mind. And then I'm going to suck your cock and you're going to stand here and watch, going to touch me, make all those pornographic noises that I've been thinking about. And then -- then I'm going to get you naked, and I'm going to fuck you, and you're going to come again, going to come all over my stomach just so you can lick it off afterwards. Just so you know that this is me and not some goddamn photo."

Nate's smile is all teeth. All predator. "Then what the hell are you waiting for?"

This picture is just cracking me up because neither Matt or George look all tha happy. And now I feel like this should be some sort of crack AU where Brad is a prince and George and Matt are his long suffering advisors who sneak away all the time to have lots of sex and bitch about the boss.

SON OF A BITCH!! WRITE IT NOW!

HA!!!!!!!

Or: "Fuck. Who ordered the Brad Pitt? And what the hell do we do with one now?"

I love that line. and you. And have now written lots of filth and am smiling and happy.

Nate's busy talking to Wynn, heading back from Godfather's makeshift command tent, when he sees him. He doesn't stumble and he doesn't lose track of his sentence, but he does cut the conversation short with an excuse to go talk to Pappy. Mike gives him that slow, Texas, shit-eating grin like Nate hasn't fooled him at all and keeps walking the opposite direction of Nate's new goal.

Brad.

Brad's standing next to one of the humvees in a grave, no shirt on, nothing on but his goddamned trousers, and the sun's glinting off the sheen of sweat covering his body like he's some sort of Adonis, some god descended from on high to grace Nate's jack sessions. Every muscle seems to stand out - abs, pecs, biceps - and that's just the front view. Nate wants to walk around him slowly and see every curve, every plane. He wants to trace them with his fingers, with his tongue, and he has to swallow back the saliva that crowds his mouth and his throat, making him hungry with want.

There's a sharply cut line right over the hip Brad has cocked, his irritation at something darkening his expression, which makes the rest of him seem brighter, more golden. "I'm not sure that's up to the grooming standard, Sergeant."

"The way I see it, sir, I smell like piss and shit and come and sweat and dirt and the putrid scent of my own rotting feet. I don't meet anyone's standard, grooming or otherwise."

"I don't know." Nate stops in front of him, wishing the rest of the company wasn't around. Wishing that he couldn't see fully clothed Marines in the periphery of his vision. Wishing that it was just him and Brad and privacy. "Considering the present company we're in, you might be less gross than a lot of the guys. Possibly top notch in comparison."

"Top of a pile of shit is better than bottom of it, sir?"

"More chance for fresh air." Nate lets his gaze run down Brad's chest and he can feel the jerk of his cock at the sight. Brad seems to watch Nate's eyes, knowing. Always fucking knowing. "You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?"

"I wouldn't put it past me, sir." Brad stretches, raising his arms over his head and making his muscles shift, his skin glow. "I want you to touch me. I want your hands and your mouth on me. I want to feel your dick against my stomach, my thigh, my dick as you rut against me."

Nate growls low in his throat, hungry and hot, though he works to keep his expression bland. He's not sure when he and Brad started this game or, for that matter, which of them started it. All he knows is that whenever they're out of earshot, Brad's mouth gets dirtier and dirtier and dirtier until Nate knows that, at some point, the only way to shut Brad up is going to be to stick his dick in Brad's mouth. "Sounds like I'm going to be doing all the work."

"Oh, no, sir." Brad grabs his elbow and reaches over his shoulder with his hand then repeats the gesture with his other arm. "While you're doing that, I'm going to be sliding three fingers deep in your asshole, spreading that tight hole until you're ready for me to fuck it."

Nate's about to say something when someone calls his name. Brad's got a grin on his face, pure pleasure and promise. Nate narrows his eyes and turns on his heel, heading toward where Rudy is waving him over. "We're not finished."

"Fuck that, sir," Brad assures him. "We're not even started."

::twirls all pretty::

Now, off to edit Southland fic.

Damon kind of looks like "How the hell do you get yourself in such a state. God, we can't let you out of our sight for a minute without you thinking you really are Mr. Smith and blowing shit up and getting glass on you and, Jesus, if you don't stand still, I'm going to make George shove that lint roller up your ass."

I love that Brad snoops through Nate's computer and that Nate *knows* he's going to. These boys, so subterfuge-ious. Just admit you want to fuck as much as we want you to, and it's all good.

Also, mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

And now off to edit Southland fic.

Number 2 & 3 have been making my head throb for days.

And every single time I see Ryan Gosling, I think of you. IT'S FUNNY.

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Ah, people. Failing since evolution began.

Re: SINCE IT IS YOUR FAULT I AM STARING AT THEM ALL DAY ANYWAY

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Re: still haven't found an acceptably large version, alas

Re: SINCE IT IS YOUR FAULT I AM STARING AT THEM ALL DAY ANYWAY

Re: still haven't found an acceptably large version, alas

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Re: SINCE IT IS YOUR FAULT I AM STARING AT THEM ALL DAY ANYWAY

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Re: This is not porn. It was supposed to be. I don't know what it is.

Re: SINCE IT IS YOUR FAULT I AM STARING AT THEM ALL DAY ANYWAY

Re: This is not porn. It was supposed to be. I don't know what it is.

Re: This is not porn. It was supposed to be. I don't know what it is.

Re: still haven't found an acceptably large version, alas

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Re: still haven't found an acceptably large version, alas

Re: SINCE IT IS YOUR FAULT I AM STARING AT THEM ALL DAY ANYWAY

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Re: still haven't found an acceptably large version, alas

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