Tag: colbert

brad: shut up ray
brad: [graphic accusations of inbreeding in the person family]
brad: i think it’s time for you to shut the fuck up ray
brad: ray you’re so fucking gross why can’t you be more like trombley
brad: [enormous rant about ray being trash]
pappy: heh what would the navy psychiatrists make of ray pers-
brad: maY I REMIND YOU

OTP Important Questions, 3, Brad/Nate

ackackh:

Ahh bradnate, my love!
Who comes to bed at two in the morning and immediately gets wrapped in a hug and not let go?

So Nate loves Brad, he really does, like, is currently planning on marrying the sucker. But… he has some unfortunate habits. One of these habits can best be described as: Brad is so. anal. about his sleep schedule.
“Could you fucking stay up past 11 for just one night?”
Nate has a job, and he’s taking classes at the university, so that means he’s up to ungodly hours, writing papers and studying and also dying. And Brad doesn’t even have the decency to try and stay up with him! 11 hits and he wraps up what he’s doing and goes to bed.
Anyway, point is, Nate comes into bed, bone-tired, hardly able to see straight after reading so much. And he sort of wants to get back at Brad for being a freaking brat and not cuddle up with him.
But the mattress dips as he slides in and Brad rolls to face him and smiles and hums in sleepy contentment, not giving two fucks about Nate’s half-hearted whining. He wraps him up in a hug and pulls him into his chest.
And like, fuck you, Brad, you’re so warm and soft and sweet.
He always falls for it, just settles in and falls asleep all wrapped up in Brad.
And then Brad gets up at 5 and leaves him again, the jerk.

things you said at the kitchen table, Brad/Ray

astreetsussserenade:

“You know” Brad said conversationally as he sat down with his coffee “There are people whose job it is to test products and tweak them until they are the ideal versions. Food scientists spend month, and sometimes years, on a product. There are focus groups involved, Ray.”

“What’s your point?” Ray asked, not looking up from the project in his bowl.

“My point, you simpleminded miscreant, is that, while I don’t know what food product that used to be before you defiled it, I am certain that this is not its intended usage.”

“Someone woke up feeling sanctimonious” said Ray as he got up to get the milk and pour it in his bowl. “My graham cracker mush is not hurting the feelings of any weakass corporate nerds, and if it is, who the fuck cares? You can’t sit here and tell me that I need to stifle my creativity, my individuality and deny myself my godgiven right to enjoy myself in my own fucking home just to placate our capitalist overlords. Seriously, homes, this is America. Land of the free and home of the fucking brave. This dish is what we fought for, dude. For my right to eat graham crackers however I damn well please.”

Brad, who’d been frozen since he first heard the words “graham cracker mush” closed his eyes in a long, slow blink.

“That dish, and you, are abominations against God and man. I regret every single one of the choices that led me to this moment.”

Ray grinned at him around a lumpy, beige, mouthful “Yeah, baby, I love it when you talk dirty to me.”