we're the therapists pumping through your speakers

how does lj work? how do I type? how do I apologize for not doing anything for years?

2013-02-04T19:20:36Z

news of fall out boy's return WOULD be the thing that makes me rush back to lj to check and see things. HELLO! Still remember me? probably not. But not much has changed with me although this new posting thing sure is weird! I'm 25 (or well, almost) and still living in my parents' basement instead of 20 and living in my parents' basement (stuck in a rut thy name is self). Still into hockey and still have the same aim (still have problems initiating conversations) still doing my thang on tumblr (still fits my (lack of) attention span) come say hi! I will try to be better at doing things.

oh! and I do podfics now! and people who aren't my sister listen to them! and seem to like them! they are here if you'd like to listen to my voice reading about hockey dudes in love and boning each other and things.

unrequited_rain @ 2012-01-26T00:25:00

2012-01-26T06:25:13Z

HOLY SHIT LJ IT'S BEEN FOREVER AND I AM A TERRIBLE PERSON. I ALSO SEEM TO HAVE GOTTEN MYSELF INTO HOCKEY RPF IDEK. AND NOT JUST BLACKHAWKS, WHICH I WOULD GET BECAUSE THEY ARE MY ONE TRUE TEAM BUT LIKE OTHER TEAMS TOO AND STUFF AND I JUST IDEK.

I blame patrick kane and his douchey adorable face that I am completely embarrassed that I want to bone /o\

(omg long time no see lj, sorry about that)

2011-11-28T16:07:50Z

I'm probably the only one ever who would want to read a Brendon Urie/Patrick Kane (the short one, forward for the Chicago Blackhawks) right? It's just I wanted to write a little something where Patrick hooks up with a non-hockey dude and Tazer (Jonathan Toews, the tall one, captain of the Blackhawks) gets jealous, and now I've got a few hundred words of just Pat and Brendon /o\

Posted via m.livejournal.com.

spoilers ahoy!

2011-10-18T03:19:32Z

my mom totally called it. ever since the first episode of this season she was like 'oh I bet kono's undercover' and I was like OH IDK :\ it would be awesome if she was but that's too easy. AND THEN SHE WAS. mom called it.

AND THEN, THE TEASER? HOLY EPIC CROSSOVER BATMAN. I HAVE BEEN WANTING THIS SINCE FOREVER, AND I EVEN PLANNED ONE OUT.

albiet my crossover has danny/steve and tim/tony and has tim's dad stationed at pearl till he was ~12 so steve and tim were in boy scouts together and STEVE WAS THE FIRST BOY MCGEE KISSED, AND THEN THEY MEET AGAIN AND THERE IS KIDNAPPING AND ALL KINDS OF STUFF.

unrequited_rain @ 2011-10-07T19:44:00

2011-10-08T00:44:45Z

oh dear sweet baby infant jesus. I have my computer back, FINALLY. and I have reinstalled vista to the factory default (eurgh, but it's the one the computer came with and I don't like spending money) so hopefully all my computer woes will be done with *knock on wood*

fic: love and honor you

2011-09-22T18:05:13Z

for my kink bingo square 'genderplay' (this again, might only count because I am the author and I say it counts.)

title: Love and Honor You
author: unrequited_rain
fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
pairing: Ed/Roy
word count: 602
rating: pg-15
notes: I think I started about four fics for this square before this one finally clicked. Um, unbeta'd, established relationship, no real spoilers for anything (there's more spoilers in my notes than the fic), set whenever your little heart desires but in my head it's an AU post manga/2009 series; Ed is still with the military and still rocking the automail and alchemy and not married to Winry.
title and cut text are from be my husband by nina simone

Ed wasn't paying attention to Mustang while he was checking into their room. So when the woman behind the desk smiled and said "I hope you and your wife have a nice time Mr. Vintner," Ed was rightly outraged. But before he could say anything Mustang stepped on his foot and grabbed his hand, effectively shutting Ed up. "Thank you," Mustang said with a smile. "I'm sure we will."

Ed glared as Mustang dragged him out of the lobby into the stairwell. "What the hell was that?" Ed hissed once they were out of earshot. "Are you telling people we're married now? Just because we're..."

"Fucking?" Roy filled in. Ed glared at him.

"Yes. That. It doesn't mean you can tell everyone you see whatever you like about us!" Ed was getting louder the longer he went on. "And why do people always assume I'm the woman huh? Is it beca-mmgh." Roy cut Ed off with a hand over his mouth.

"She made an assumption Fullmetal, one I felt it was in our best interests not to dissuade her of. In case you haven't noticed we are both rather recognizable." Ed nodded, but his face made it clear how much it pained him to agree. "Harrison will be expecting the military, or even the police, not a couple of newlyweds. Hopefully this way we can look around town without raising too much suspicion."

Ed pulled a face and Roy prepared himself for an argument, but then Ed sighed and seemed to deflate. "Why can't someone mistake you for a woman for once? You're all-" Ed waved a hand as if to encompass Roy's whole being. "Pretty and shit." Roy snorted. "When's it gonna be your turn to be the girl?"

"I don't know Edward," Roy smirked. "My legs just don't look as good in a skirt as yours do." Roy laughed as Ed punched him in the shoulder hard, but not with the automail so Roy knew he didn't really mean it.

The next day Ed flung open the door and stomped inside. "I just got a thirty minute lecture on 'how to please my man' from our proprietor." Roy couldn't keep himself from laughing as Ed flung himself onto the bed. "It seems she thinks I need help being more 'wifely'."

"I don't know, I think you'd make a pretty good wife." Roy mused, then immediately had to throw his arms up to deflect the pillows Ed launched at his head.

"Shut up!" Ed growled. But Roy saw the way Ed's ears flushed, a sure sign the rest of his face was just as red.

"I like the idea," Roy said quietly, moving to whisper in Ed's ear. "Being married, coming home to you every night." Ed gasped and rubbed his hips against the mattress. "You wearing my ring so everyone knows you're my wife."

Ed looked up at him now, pupils blown and only a thin line of gold outlining them. "Bastard," he growled as he rolled onto his back and pulled Roy on top of him. "I hate you," he muttered before kissing Roy.

"Good," Roy panted in between kisses. "I hear wives are supposed to hate their husbands."

Ed glared. "And you know, I hear that wives aren't supposed to put out when their husbands are being idiots." Roy pouted and Ed laughed. "Although I suppose that would mean I'd never get laid either.

"What a tragedy," Roy murmured. "Are you putting out tonight, wife of mine?"

Ed gave Roy a wicked grin. "Let's see how well you ask for it," and pulled him down to kiss again.

fic: be gentle with me

2011-09-22T16:58:46Z

for my kink bingo square 'bondage: other' (also has some dirty talk, facials, and perhaps a touch of bdsm)

title: Be Gentle With Me
author: unrequited_rain
fandom: Tangled (OMGWUT. blame acountrymouse for this one too, for not telling me I was a perv for writing this)
pairing: Flynn/Rapunzel
word count: 889
rating: nc-17
notes: OMG I DON'T EVEN WUT. seriously you guys, my brain I don't even. unbeta'd, set post-movie and goes down much better if you imagine Mandy Moore and Zach Levi doing this instead of cartoon characters. title from a The Boy Least Likely To song of the same name that the lyrics have nothing to do with this, I just liked it for the title.

When Flynn wakes up he's tied to a chair.

It perhaps says something about his life that this isn't the first time it's happened.

But this time he's naked, his legs splayed open and his arms and chest bound to the back of the chair. The room is dark, but warm, which is a relief because he would hate to be tied up and naked and freezing on top. He sits there for what seems like an eternity, but probably isn't. Time always seems to drag on when you're impatient he's found.

Suddenly there's a noise from over by the door, or where the door is if he's in their bedroom, and he has a sudden panicking thought; what if he's not in their bedroom and it's not his wife who has tied him up. There are still a lot of people who hate him, people who want him dead. Finding and marrying the missing princess may have gotten the law off his back, but there are still a lot of unsavory elements out there still pissed at him. He tenses up, preparing to be yelled at, or hit, or anything.

Someone walks past him close enough for him to catch a whiff of familiar perfume and he relaxes in his bonds. "Hi sweetheart."

Rapunzel laughs and he feels her weight settle onto his lap. "Hi darling," she says brightly before attaching her mouth to his throat.

Flynn knew she was sucking a giant hickey onto his neck, but he never could find it in himself to make her stop. "Recreating the day we met?" he asks.

"Maybe a little," she replies, pressing a brief kiss to his mouth before sliding off his lap.

"You're not getting the frying pan, are you?" he asks, only a little warily. She laughs and throws open the curtains.k His jaw absolutely does not drop when he sees what Rapunzel's wearing. Absolutely doesn't when he sees the completely see thru lace teddy she's wearing, not even long enough to cover any of her long, gorgeous legs that end in what is possibly the tallest pair of stiletto heels ever. She's probably taller than he is, and that definitely isn't his dick twitching in interest, honestly.

"That's not quite the part I had in mind," she smirks and settles back onto his lap.

Flynn squirms, half impatient, half excited. He knows where she's going with this. "Why don't you untie me and we can really have some fun?"

"Hmm... I don't know. I kind of like you like this." She scoots forward and if he wasn't tied up he could thrust right up into her pussy. "All tied up and at my mercy." She lowers herself down at just the right angle that his cock doesn't slip inside, just rubs against her hot, wet folds.

He throws his head back and groans. "Christ babe, you're going to be the death of me."

She laughs and kisses his chest. "Not yet." she slides down to kneel between his legs and gives him a long, appreciative look. "I'm keeping you for a long, long time."

Flynn looks down at her just in time to watch her take his dick into her mouth. She can and has spent hours teasing him, keeping him just on the edge of orgasm, but this morning she seems determined to get him off as fast as possible. "Fuck," he gasps quietly as Rapunzel slides one hand up his chest to play with his nipples. She pulls off his cock with a filthy slurp and she smirks when he squirms ineffectually. "Babe, please," he begs, desperation slipping into his voice.

"I didn't gag you for a reason," she bites his leg hard enough to really hurt, startling a yelp out of him. "Be louder."

"Fuck," he groans out when she takes his cock back into her mouth and sucks on the head like a lollipop. "You know what I'd do if I had my hands free?" he asks. She hums and he groans when he tries to thrust into her mouth before he remembers the ropes. "I'd pull you off and hold you still while I come on your face." She stills and he holds his breath, thinking that maybe he's finally gone too far, crossed a line in this... this thing they do but never talk about outside of here.

Rapunzel looks up at him and slowly pulls off, not breaking eye contact. There's a thin line of spit between the head of his cock and her bottom lip, but she doesn't seem to notice it. She licks her bottom lip and it breaks. "Do it," she whispers.

Flynn squeezes his eyes shut and tries not to come instantly, but Rapunzel takes his dick, jerking it in short, quick strokes. "You can come now," she says, just barely loud enough for him to hear. "I know you want to," and he comes before he quite knows what's happening. When he opens his eyes, Rapunzel is grinning like the cat who got the canary. There's a streak of come from her cheekbone to her jaw, and she's licking the rest off her fingers. "If you can come again I'll untie you and let you have your wicked way with me." Flynn groans and Rapunzel laughs, pressing a kiss to his belly.

fic: things we did and didn't do

2011-09-22T16:15:34Z

for my kink bingo square 'silence'

title: Things We Did and Didn't Do
author: unrequited_rain
fandom: The Social Network
pairing: Eduardo/Mark
word count: 631
rating: pg-15
notes: still unbetad, still porn (or actually not. just kissing in this one). title and cut text is from The Magnetic Fields song of the same name. Mark and Eduardo accidentally get stuck alone in an elevator sometime during all the interviews. (I have only seen the movie once and never intended to write any fic for it until this all came spilling out of me one day at work in about six hours.)

The elevator stops and Eduardo sighs, very carefully not letting himself look at Mark. The lights flicker once, twice, before going out for good and the emergency lights come on. They cast an almost creepy blue glow over the elevator. He closes his eyes and tips his head back when Mark reaches for the red emergency phone. Mark speaks quietly and he tries to block it out, but he's never really been able to do that, probably never will. "It's gonna be a few hours," Mark says. His jaw clenches. "They don't know what's wrong. The power's out for about ten blocks." He nods and sinks to the floor. He doesn't want to jinx himself and say things can't get any worse, but he's hard pressed to think of a way it could happen.

Mark sits next to him, proven wrong again, and starts to say something. Eduardo doesn't know, doesn't care what he's about to say. He doesn't- can't listen, so he shuts Mark up the only way he can think of.

Mark's stunned into stillness- but not silence, still trying to talk into the kiss. Eduardo pulls away and growls "Shut up," before fisting a hand in Mark's shirt so he can pull him back in for another kiss. Mark does go quiet then, and for a minute Eduardo closes his eyes and pretends that this isn't something he's wanted forever, that they aren't currently in the middle of an epic legal battle and that this isn't the only time he'll ever get to have Mark like this.

That he isn't still hopelessly in love with the asshole underneath him.

Within the space of a heartbeat Mark's gone from stone stillness to his hands wrapped around Eduardo's waist, trying to urge him into his lap. He goes, and Mark bucks his hips up with a choking little gasp, rubbing his dick against Eduardo's ass.

"Wardo-" Mark gasps and he shoves Mark hard against the elevator wall.

"No," he growls and kisses Mark again, all teeth and desperation.

Mark whimpers and his hands tear at Eduardo's shirt. Something hot and fierce starts in the pit of his stomach but dies down when Mark whispers, "Please, just-"

Mark's head makes a dull thump that echoes when Eduardo shoves him. "Don't talk, okay?" he notices his hands are trembling and he's inches away from shaking Mark. "You don't get to talk." His voice sounds rough and broken to his own ears, he can't imagine what it sounds like to Mark. Mark just stares at him like he's trying to look inside him. Eduardo growls and pulls Mark back to him, moving one hand up to tangle in Mark's messy curls. Mark gasps and throws his head back when Eduardo starts to leave a line of biting kisses down his jaw and neck, being careful not to leave any evidence that will show, despite how much he wants to. "God, I hate you so much sometimes," he whispers against Mark's neck. Mark's fingernails dig into his back at that, ten sharp points of pain that make him pull back to look, really look at Mark. His face is flushed and his lips are puffy and bruised. Mark looks like he wants to say something, and Eduardo thinks he might let him when they hear banging and grunting outside.

They spring apart just as the elevator doors open an inch and somebody's face peeps in at the very top. "Hey, are you two okay?" the guy asks.

"Yeah," Mark croaks out and his voice is hoarse like he's been screaming. "Yeah, we're fine."

Eduardo sighs and buries his face in his hands, feeling the furthest thing from fine. Neither of them can look at each other as they wait for the doors to open.

fic: wicked and divine

2011-09-22T15:26:14Z

for my kink bingo free square. (rough sex, claiming/marking)

title: Wicked and Divine
author: unrequited_rain
fandom: Supernatural
pairing: Castiel/Meg
word count: 2031
rating: nc-17
notes: UH, THIS IS WAY LONGER THAN I INTENDED. and unbeta'd and it got way plottier and ugh, I just want to wash my hands of this. so it's probably slighly OOC for the both of them, but it's porn so eh? set some time post 6.10, but whether it's post 6.22 that's up to the reader.
I have used up all my creativity with the writing so title and cut text is from Muse's song Undisclosed Desires, which is like, their theme song or whatever in my head :)

A few days after the incident with Crowley and the hellhounds Meg found Castiel alone and cornered him. "So what else did you learn from that pizza man Clarence?"

Castiel glared at her and tried to push her out of his way, but she slipped her fingers into his belt loops and refused to be moved. "The video was very informative. It taught me how to deal with-" his eyes flicked down to where Meg had begun to unbuckle his belt. "Unruly children."

Meg chuckled low as she slowly pulled down his zipper. "Am I unruly?" she whispered. Castiel hissed as she scraped her fingernails across his stomach. She gasped in return when Castiel drew his hands up her arms leaving white hot trails of power, even through her leather jacket, just short of being too painful to be good.

"Fascinating," he murmured, watching her reactions.

She lifted her head and glared at him, black eyed. Castiel's eyes shined an unsettling blue with something bright burning behind them that she wanted to shy away from and revel in at the same time. With a growl she ripped his shirt open and pulled the tie from his neck, flinging it across the room. "Maybe I need to be taken in hand," she whispered as she drew a fingernail down his chest with enough Intent to leave a satisfying red line right down the middle.

With a gasp Castiel grabbed her wrist and pulled her in till they were pressed together. "Careful little one," Castiel said in a guttural language that she hadn't known she could understand. "You know not what you ask of me."

She grinned at feeling his erection pressing against her leg. She pushed herself up on her toes to whisper in his ear. "I know enough," and surprised herself by speaking in that same language. "Take me." She wrapped her legs around him as he lifted her up with his free hand. "Put me in my place. Make me yours."

Castiel groaned and let go of her wrist to take her mouth in a biting kiss. The clean feeling was back, but stronger this time, like he was pouring it into her. It didn't burn as bad this time though. Either she was getting used to the pure burn of Angelic magic or Castiel was toning it down for her. Both options were ridiculous, but it beat listening to the voice that had appeared the first time he had tried to exorcise her. The one that only got stronger every time he even came near her. The one that whispered promises of power and warmth and home instead of the dark and cold she had now if only she would let it in.

She pushed those thoughts and urges away with more effort than it had ever taken before and concentrated on the angel currently trying to climb inside her via her mouth. He was unpracticed, which she normally hated, but now it gave her a fierce possessive burn. Hers would be the only touch he would ever know.

With a growl she pushed his shirt, jacket and coat off, wanting to feel all of him against her. Once his hands were free he slipped them under her shirt, pulling it and her jacket off. When she made to take off her bra Castiel growled and pinned her against the wall. He dropped his mouth to her breast and mouthed at her nipple, right through the lace. Then he pulled back and blew gently on the wet fabric, the sudden shock of cold making her gasp. "Oh fuck," she moaned helplessly when he went to give her other breast the same treatment. "What have you been watching Clarence?"

Castiel growled again, making her cunt throb wetly. Then he threw her onto the bed and pinned her down so she can't move at all, can barely breathe. "If we do this," he whispered into her ear, gripping her throat tight. "You will use my name."

Finally she drug in enough air to answer him. "Make me."

With a glare she's flipped over, resting on her hands and knees. His hand traced a line of fire down her back; all the warning she got before he brought his hand down had on her ass. He worked her over methodically, something she never would have thought would be so hot. But he's just so goddamned thorough that she's sobbing into the mattress and she knows her panties are sopping wet and wouldn't be surprised to see that she's started to soak through her jeans to. But she refused to give him what he wanted, at least not yet. She wanted to see what else she can get the angel to do to her.

He paused and she wriggled her ass up at him, both pleased and disappointed to find out she can move again. "Giving up so soon Clarence?"

Castiel looked at her hard, like he was trying to see inside her. He scraped his fingernails up her back then, incongruously careful, brushed her hair to one side and leaned so close his lips brush her ear. "Do you have the fortitude to continue on? To see your chosen path to the end?"

The voice came back, screaming at her to roll over and let him take them and she realises abruptly that it's a part of her, something long forgotten and locked away that Castiel woke up, albeit accidentally.

Castiel toyed with the waistband of her jeans, but not absently, impatiently. Like he was waiting for her to make a decision. Like he would leave if she didn't answer soon enough. But she refused to be left hanging by a fucking angel. "Please," she gasped. Although it grated, she wasn't willing to give in entirely, not quite yet.

Agonizingly slow, he inched down her jeans. "Please what?"

She shook her head, then had to bite her lip to muffle the scream when he spanked her once, hard, right over her cunt. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked back in time to watch Castiel lick his palm with one broad stroke from wrist to fingertip. "Fuck," she growled and his eyes crinkle in a look that would be a triumphant smirk on anyone else. He did it again, then a third and Meg found herself holding her breath waiting for him to hit her again. And she waited. And waited. She was shaking and trembling with anticipation for the next blow. She knew he was back there, she could feel his eyes on her. "Fucking Christ Castiel," she screamed. "Just fuck me already."

He's inside her before she could finish saying his name. "Now was that so hard?" he whispered.

"Fuck," she whined when he thrust in her hard enough to scoot her forward. "Fuck you."

He stopped, like he was actually considering her words. She tried to thrust back, to get him to move goddamnit, but his hands dug into her hips so hard she might actually have bruises, for a few hours at least. The idea made her quiver with want, that she'd have his marks on her skin. That she made him, a fucking angel, want her enough to leave marks so people would know, so she could dig her fingernails into them and remember.

"Maybe later," he murmured before biting down on her shoulder, almost high enough to be on her neck.

"Fuck," she screamed, fingers digging into the mattress. She fell forward and his teeth scraped a hard line down her back before he bit down hard on her shoulder blade.

"You think so loud," he murmured absently before pulling almost all the way out of her. She tried to bite back a whine, but he chuckled and pulled her up so she was seated on his cock, his chest pressed against her back.

"If I do this, if we do this-" His hands, although barely touching her, left bright shimmering trails of pain when he skimmed his hands over he breasts and stomach. It was just on the edge of too much, but she knew he was only giving her a taste of what was to come. "You're right, it will be painful, and it will change everything, but you will be mine." His voice was rough with restraint and want. "And everyone that knows how to look will know." Castiel's hands bit into her waist and she had to muffle her screams in his neck. "Is that what you want? To be mine forever?" She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. He turned her around, gently compared to everything else that's happened, and laid her on the bed, one hand holding him up over her, the other on her ribs under he breast. "To belong to me beyond these bodies and-"

Tired of hearing him talk she growled and pulled his head down. "Yes," she gasped because she couldn't scream from Castiel fucking all the air out of her. His hand over her ribs was burning, a hundred times worse than before and she wanted to scream or cry or move or anything but she can't. There was something building inside her, starting from where he was touching her and she couldn't hold it back any longer. He told her to open her eyes and she did, unable to deny him anything anymore. She took a huge gasping breath. All she could see was him, eyes filled with something she couldn't put a name to, and behind him were his wings cocooning the both of them, shielding them from the outside world.

Suddenly it was like a dam breaking and memories and instincts that weren't hers, but used to be wash over her in a flood of understanding. It was too much and not enough and when Castiel kissed her gently and whispered "Tamsyn," it made her want to weep for everything that she'd lost.

But he was still thrusting inside of her, making her orgasm build up higher than anything and as she came she couldn't keep her wits about her long enough to resist her new-old instincts to bite down on his shoulder, drawing blood and dragging him along with her.

Later when she surfaced, Castiel was already awake, but still curled around her. His wings were still wrapped around them and his fingers were gently playing over her shoulder. "What was that?" she whispered. "What did you do to me."

"I must apologize." He wiped a tear away with his thumb. She hadn't even even known she had been crying. "I had hoped they would return gradually, as the bond solidified, but then-"

Unbidden, memories of her family crept in. Horrible, nasty, beautiful memories of when they were happy. Of the songs her mother had sang. Playing games with her brother. The times her father visited and taught her and her brother how to control their powers to stay safe, stay hidden. She pushed them away and interrupted him. "What bond, what do you mean?"

"This," he fit his hand over the hand print on her ribs. "Is a mark of protection. It means I will always come to your aid if you have need of me. This," he pressed a kiss to the bite mark on her shoulder. "Is my bond mark on you. It is ancient and forbidden magic. It will show to anyone who knows how to see that you are my mate. And this," he brought her hand up to where she bit down on his neck. "Is your bond mark on me."

Something in her chest tightened at that. She rubbed a thumb over the mark, unable to stop touching it now that she's started. "Why, how," she growled, even though she suspected she already knew.

"I believe it's because you were- are- one of the nephilim." She closed her eyes and heard screams and the clanging of swords.

"You called me Tamsyn, how did you..."

"I know because you know," Castiel replied quietly.

She opened her eyes to find Castiel watching her like something new and interesting. "Now what?" she asked even though she already knew he had no idea where they go from here.

fic: bite my lip and close my eyes

2011-08-10T16:53:14Z

acountrymouse is a filthy filthy enabler. (and also awesome for letting me use her computer. someday I will get a new one.) it's all her fault I started reading marvelu fic. and now there is this.

title: bite my lip and close my eyes
author: unrequited_rain
fandom: marvelu
pairing: Tony/his hand, Tony/mystery man
word count: 801
rating: nc-17
notes: UNBETA'D. written for my kink bingo square authority figures (which I kind of fudge a little, but I say it works, and as the writer, my word is law, right?)
also: this is from a verse that I will (probably) never fully write where Steve never got frozen in the ice and etc. message me if you want to know more because I can (and will) talk about it at length. all you really need to know is Tony is ~15, at MIT and just back from being kidnapped, where he was rescued by a ~mystery man~ (Steve)
AND. title&cut text are from Green Day's Longview.

Tony was almost certain he knew who had saved him after all was said and done. He may have been doped up out of his skull, but the blond hair, blue eyes and miles of muscles were pretty damn recognizable. Of course now that he was out of the hospital the man had disappeared, leaving Tony unable to confirm his suspicions. But Tony still would have been willing to put money on it being the same man who had looked after him in the weeks after his mother's accident before his father got off his ass and hired a nanny for him. He was also willing to put money on the possibility that, in his drug addled daze, he had hit on the man who had been a star player in his sexual fantasies since he was old enough to have them.

Tony sighed and glared down as his half-hard dick. This was all it's fault. If he didn't have such a hard on for the guy, he might've gotten to know who his mysterious savior was. Of course, if he didn't have such a hard on, he probably wouldn't care who the guy was, so it was a null point.

Tony closed his eyes and let the shower wash over him. If he concentrated hard enough he could remember some things about his 'amazing' rescue. Broad shoulders Tony could barely get his arms around; a uniform rough against his cheek, SHIELD most likely, Howard would never let someone so proletariat as a police officer rescue his golden goose of a son; the smell of sweat and leather and explosives, making him feel inexplicably safe and at home in a ways Stark Manor had never made him feel.

His dick twitched, reminding Tony that yes, hi, still here just in case you'd forgotten. Tony mentally added turned on to the list of things the smell made him feel. Slowly he slid a hand down his stomach and let himself imagine what might have happened if his rescuer hadn't disappeared before Tony could even learn his name.

Tony would have cornered him in his office. He had to have one if he was important enough to rescue Howard Stark's kid. He would probably be getting ready to go, already in his civvies, or no. Changing into his civvies in his office. Tony bit his lip and gave his dick a firm stroke. He'd be wearing nothing but uniform trousers and a sweat damp white undershirt, and Tony would walk up to him and look him in the eye and say 'anything I can do to thank you,' before kneeling and putting his hands on the obvious bulge in the man's pants.

Tony bit his lip and worked his hand faster on his dick. His mouth felt empty and it watered with want. Tony closed his eyes and imagined being on his knees, mouthing over the hard line of the agent's dick. He would do that, just teasing teasing till the man finally had enough and grabbed Tony's head to direct where he wanted him.

Tony moaned and let his head fall back against the shower wall. He could almost feel the weight of a dick in his mouth and Tony wanted it badly. He hoped the agent's dick was proportional to the rest of him. He wanted to choke on it, just a little bit, before getting it sloppy wet and taking it down his throat.

He whimpered and tightened his hand around the base of his dick while the other gave a sharp yank to his balls. He didn't want to come yet, not when he still had the imagined feel of the agent's dick in his mouth. After a few deep breaths Tony rubbed his thumb against the slit in the had of his dick. he wondered if the agent would let himself come all over Tony's face or not. Probably not, he was probably a gentleman if the way he ran off meant anything. But Tony would stand his ground and refuse to be moved as the man came all over his face. Then he would tug Tony up and pull his pants down, then spin him around and set him bare assed onto the desk. He'd wrap one hand around Tony's dick and give it a few long hard pulls. But he wouldn't come, even when he gave a twist right under the head of Tony's cock. Not until the man pushed two come slicked fingers into Tony's mouth would he come, all over his chest and the agent's hand, and Tony pushed two of his own fingers into his mouth and came over his own hand with a muffled yell. Panting, he slowly slid down the shower wall and let the shower wash him clean while he put himself back together.

unrequited_rain @ 2010-12-15T20:11:00

2010-12-16T02:11:23Z

so I feel like I should make a post because I haven't made one in forever, but I seriously have nothing interesting to say. STILL OBSESSED WITH INCEPTION. I have lost count of how many times I've watched it. but I put it on tonight and ALL THREE of my family members here went OH GOD NOT AGAIN. so it's a lot :)

and y'know, every day is friending/defriending amnesty. no hard feelings if you think I'm not living up to my press. I am reading my flist, I just have issues with commenting, ie: I always feel I have nothing good to say.

snitched from ink_on_the_page

2010-12-01T00:35:53Z

Instructions: Copy and paste this. Bold those books you've read in their entirety, underline the ones you started but didn't finish or read an excerpt. ~~Tag other book nerds :)~~

1 Pride and Prejudice – Jane Austen
2 The Lord of the Rings series – JRR Tolkien
3 Jane Eyre – Charlotte Bronte
4 Harry Potter series – JK Rowling
5 To Kill a Mockingbird – Harper Lee
6 The Bible
7 Wuthering Heights – Emily Bronte
8 Nineteen Eighty Four – George Orwell
9 His Dark Materials – Philip Pullman
10 Great Expectations – Charles Dickens
11 Little Women – Louisa M Alcott
12 Tess of the D’Urbervilles – Thomas Hardy
13 Catch 22 – Joseph Heller
14 Complete Works of Shakespeare
15 Rebecca – Daphne Du Maurier
16 The Hobbit – JRR Tolkien
17 Birdsong – Sebastian Faulks
18 Catcher in the Rye – JD Salinger
19 The Time Traveller’s Wife – Audrey Niffenegger
20 Middlemarch – George Eliot
21 Gone With The Wind – Margaret Mitchell
22 The Great Gatsby – F Scott Fitzgerald
23 Bleak House – Charles Dickens
24 War and Peace – Leo Tolstoy
25 The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy – Douglas Adams
26 Brideshead Revisited – Evelyn Waugh
27 Crime and Punishment – Fyodor Dostoyevsky
28 Grapes of Wrath – John Steinbeck
29 Alice in Wonderland – Lewis Carroll
30 The Wind in the Willows – Kenneth Grahame
31 Anna Karenina – Leo Tolstoy
32 David Copperfield – Charles Dickens
33 Chronicles of Narnia – CS Lewis
34 Emma – Jane Austen
35 Persuasion – Jane Austen
36 The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe – CS Lewis
37 The Kite Runner – Khaled Hosseini
38 Captain Corelli’s Mandolin – Louis De Berniere
39 Memoirs of a Geisha – Arthur Golden
40 Winnie the Pooh – AA Milne
41 Animal Farm – George Orwell
42 The Da Vinci Code – Dan Brown
43 One Hundred Years of Solitude – Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney – John Irving
45 The Woman in White – Wilkie Collins
46 Anne of Green Gables – LM Montgomery
47 Far From The Madding Crowd – Thomas Hardy
48 The Handmaid’s Tale – Margaret Atwood
49 Lord of the Flies – William Golding (HAAAAAAAATE. hate with the fire of a thousand suns.)
50 Atonement – Ian McEwan
51 Life of Pi – Yann Martel
52 Dune – Frank Herbert
53 Cold Comfort Farm – Stella Gibbons
54 Sense and Sensibility – Jane Austen
55 A Suitable Boy – Vikram Seth
56 The Shadow of the Wind – Carlos Ruiz Zafon
57 A Tale Of Two Cities – Charles Dickens
58 Brave New World – Aldous Huxley
59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time – Mark Haddon
60 Love In The Time Of Cholera – Gabriel Garcia Marquez
61 Of Mice and Men – John Steinbeck
62 Lolita – Vladimir Nabokov
63 The Secret History – Donna Tartt
64 The Lovely Bones – Alice Sebold
65 Count of Monte Cristo – Alexandre Dumas
66 On The Road – Jack Kerouac
67 Jude the Obscure – Thomas Hardy
68 Bridget Jones’s Diary – Helen Fielding
69 Midnight’s Children – Salman Rushdie
70 Moby Dick – Herman Melville
71 Oliver Twist – Charles Dickens
72 Dracula – Bram Stoker
73 The Secret Garden – Frances Hodgson Burnett
74 Notes From A Small Island – Bill Bryson
75 Ulysses – James Joyce
76 The Bell Jar – Sylvia Plath
77 Swallows and Amazons – Arthur Ransome
78 Germinal – Emile Zola
79 Vanity Fair – William Makepeace Thackeray
80 Possession – AS Byatt
81 A Christmas Carol – Charles Dickens (I have read an abridged version, which I don't count as actually reading it.)
82 Cloud Atlas – David Mitchell
83 The Color Purple – Alice Walker
84 The Remains of the Day – Kazuo Ishiguro
85 Madame Bovary – Gustave Flaubert
86 A Fine Balance – Rohinton Mistry
87 Charlotte’s Web – EB White
88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven – Mitch Albom
89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes – Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
90 The Faraway Tree Collection – Enid Blyton
91 Heart of Darkness – Joseph Conrad
92 The Little Prince – Antoine De Saint-Exupery
93 The Wasp Factory – Iain Banks
94 Watership Down – Richard Adams (I have read an abridged picture book version, which again, I don't think really counts)
95 A Confederacy of Dunces – John Kennedy Toole
96 A Town Like Alice – Nevil Shute
97 The Three Musketeers – Alexandre Dumas
98 Hamlet – William Shakespeare
99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory – Roald Dahl
100 Les Miserables – Victor Hugo

finished: 29 unfinished: 21 total: 50/100

I haven't finished a lot more than I thought. maybe I should get on that... but there are more on this list than I thought there would be?

ok, so I'm sick of this being in my wip folder.

2010-11-15T15:40:20Z

title: Kodak Theatre
author: unrequited_rain
pairing: Brendon/Spencer
word count: 1167
rating: nc-17 (for blowjobs! which I still can't write. oh! and there is also come swapping, which apparently I can't write porn without it.)

summary: future fic (really really future) so, panic bombed after their third album and brendon and spencer went their separate ways, married other people, divorced other people and finally drifted back together. now brendon's been nominated to win an academy award for his soundtrack and is really nervous. spencer decides to do something about it.

disclaimer: it's all made up. I really don't think they're actually fucking. please don't read this if you or anyone you know is a person these characters are based on. but I can't stop you, so if somehow you find this and read it, don't tell me about it.

author's notes: unbeta'd. I finished this back.... in september? october? idk (LIES. august 29 apparently) for my kink bingo square in public, and also for moku_youbi who requested brendon/spencer. and oh god I am sorry it took so long and I hope you like it :D? even though it is totally not in the woods or in an alley /o\

They are possibly both very, very drunk. They have to be, because there is no way this could ever seem like a good idea to a sober mind. But they are flush with happiness and excitement (and yes, alcohol) and they feel on top of the world. Brendon's movie has won two Oscars tonight and is looking good for at least two more, including one of the ones Brendon is up for. They even saw Shane and Regan and their three kids, whom Brendon hasn't seen in at least five years and Spencer in a lot longer. And best of all, Spencer held his hand and kissed him on the red carpet, in front of the cameras and every one. Their lives will be a little crazier, and Brendon's PA will kill him for not warning her, but it was worth it to have Spencer's hand in his, warm and reassuring in face of all the bright lights.

But now Spencer was tugging Brendon with him, in between the aisles of seats to the back of the theater and Brendon feels fifteen again, sneaking out to hang out with Spencer. Although he knows if someone had told him twenty-seven years ago, or even three years ago, that he would be sneaking out of the Academy Awards to have sex with Spencer Smith, he would have laughed in their face. And then Brendon's snapped out of his musings when Spencer gets them to the lobby and pushes him against the closed doors behind him. He gasps when Spencer curls one hand around his neck and the other goes to his hip and starts working it's way under his shirt. "Spence," he gasps. Or tries to, but then Spencer's mouth is on his and his kisses are burning hot and wet and Brendon's knees go week because it's good, it's so good. Spencer tastes like whiskey, a little like pot and underneath that like a rainy summer day, like he's finally home and right where he belongs, and not for the first time Brendon wishes they would have gotten their heads out of their asses earlier, wishes they could have had this sooner.

"Spencer!" he gasps again and tries to pull away, but his hands stay oddly immovable from their place wrapped around Spencer's waist. "Spence, we've got-" Brendon lets his head thump back against the door and bites his lip to keep a moan in. Spencer's mouthing up Brendon's jaw to his ear and starts tracing delicate lines behind and up and around it with his tongue and that never fails to turn Brendon into a pile of jello. "We've got maybe fifteen minutes till they get to my award and if-" he's cut off with another strangled gasp. Spencer's moved down to press sucking kisses to his neck, which is unfair and Brendon will be so angry if he leaves a mark where other people can see. "If my chair is empty, or if I have a hickey," he moves his hand to Spencer's hair to pull him away. "I will die of embarrassment, and then several people will bring me back to life and kill me again."

Spencer smirks and presses another burning kiss to Brendon's mouth. "Well then I guess I better move fast." And then Brendon can't think, can't even breathe as Spencer sinks to his knees and unzips Brendon's pants right in the middle of the lobby where any one of the few hundred, possibly thousand people inside the theater could walk in, or any one of the reporters or photographers outside could sneak in and get a shot of a lifetime.

But Brendon's zipper sounds loud in the empty space, with only their heavy breathing for company. And Spencer doesn't even move his pants all the way down, just pulls Brendon's dick out of the slit in his briefs and swallows it down without any preamble. It shouldn't be hot but it is, knowing that at any moment someone could walk in and let the whole world know Brendon Urie is getting his dick sucked by his boyfriend, right in the middle of the Oscars. But then Spencer is sliding a spit slicked finger along his ass at the same time he does this thing to the head of Brendon's dick and Brendon gasps so loud he could almost swear it echoes and he can't make himself care about that at all.

"Spencer, Spence, please, I don't... I want..." His fingers tighten in Spencer's hair, which is obviously a mistake because Spencer purrs and it sends vibrations shivering through Brendon's dick right up into his bones. He has to close his eyes and think of cold showers, of walking in on his parents, anything to keep him from coming right then, because he hasn't come so fast from so little since he was eighteen and realized there were girls who wanted to have sex with him.

But then Spencer pulls off and Brendon whines at the loss of Spencer's mouth. Spencer chuckles low and rumbley and Brendon shudders again because that is patently unfair. So Brendon steels himself, fingers tightening in Spencer's hair because after two years he's pretty sure what Spencer's response is going to be to what Brendon's about to do.

"Is that the best you can do?" he asks. And it's breathy and half gasped out, but Spencer still looks up and glares at him before taking his cock and swallowing it down all the way to the base again. Then Brendon has to bring his free hand up to his mouth and bite down because he's coming with a shout as Spencer pushes a slick finger into his ass and crooks it just right to rub against his prostate.

Brendon's panting heavily and he thinks maybe he should take his hand out of his mouth, but Spencer's still sucking gently at the head of his cock and it's not enough and it's too much and Brendon wants to keep back the pathetic little whine he knows he's making.

And then his phone vibrates and Brendon has to pull Spencer off because that's going to be Mary telling them to get their asses in there because it's time for him to win a fucking Academy Award, and don't give me any of that Debbie Downer crap Urie because you totally fucking deserve it. So Brendon gives another tug to Spencer's hair and he stands up and kisses Brendon. And he didn't swallow at all, that fucker, because Brendon's got a mouthful of his own come, which is gross and hot at the same time. Brendon's dick twitches and tries its best to get hard again. It's almost painful because he is so not a teenager anymore and his dick should listen and not be getting hard when he's about to go and be on national television. Despite that, his limbs feel loose and he's not as nervous as he was ten minutes ago, not about winning or losing anyway.

Writer's Block: Cover me

2010-11-12T01:20:14Z

hurt, originally by nine inch nails, but done amazingly by the man in black. I know I've posted this before but I just had to post it for this.

need to remind me sometime to renew my paid account. I MISS MY ICONS DD:

so I'm not entirely sure what this is.

2010-10-31T20:14:29Z

but that's a lie. it's mostly an experiment for me to see if I could do it, and I did, so I thought I might as well share the fruits of my labor with somebody other than acountrymouse

so, as most of you know there is this band from Chicago called empires, and I kind of love them and their music a ridiculous amount. I also love the movie Inception a ridiculous amount. I am also pants at writing in the present tense, so I decided to challenge myself and I wrote 15 ficlets based on the songs from empires' first album howl (go download it, it's FREE and also makes wonderful accompaniment) all in the present tense. *hands*

title: ambiguous picture postcards
author: unrequited_rain
rating: pg-15 ish?
word count: 4678
fandom: inception
pairing: arthur/eames (for the most part. some are genish)
(more) author's notes: the title is from HOWL by allen ginsberg. and each ficlet has a tiny bit of (mostly implied) crossover that you'll only get if you're me. (not even acountrymouse got all of them) bonus points if anybody else can get some.
oh, and also these can be read in any order, they are presented here in the order they are on the album, but not in the order I wrote them.

Spit The Dark

"Do you trust me?" Eames whispers to Arthur one day in the locker room after the rest of the team had left.

"Eames, what..." Arthur trails off as Eames grabs his wrist and squeezes it tight. Arthur thinks of the past year and a half, of fighting and dying together, of bleeding out in each other's arms and going into free fall without chutes. "Yes," he whispers, turning his head so close his lips almost brush Eames' ear.

Eames' hand slides down and their fingers tangle together briefly before letting go. "Walker's. Eight o'clock," he whispers and is out the door, pulling on his leather jacket as he goes before Arthur can do anything but nod.

~*~*~

Eames is already at The Black Widow when Arthur gets there, staring into the bottom of a scotch and soda. Arthur slides into the seat next to him and a whisky neat appears in front of him. "They've been giving me... skills," he begins, keeping his voice low. "Innocuous things at first, juggling, some sleight of hand, to see if they could do it." Eames drains his glass with a long pull before he continues. "I can speak eight languages now, hack into the CIA mainframe, I can use types of hand to hand I didn't even know existed till now and god knows what else they've put inside my brain."

Arthur stares resolutely at the contents of his glass, the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach growing as Eames goes on. He's heard rumors, whispers about men getting everything they need to do anything, become anyone. To become spies and sleeper agents and assassins in hostile countries and governments.

"Do you trust me?" Arthur interrupts.

Eames is quiet for a moment. Arthur knows he's thinking about all the same things he did earlier when Eames asked him the same question. "Yes," he whispers harshly, voice full of conviction.

"Run," he says, finally turing and looking at Eames. "Get out and run, I'll find you I swear, but I can't-"

"Arthur," Eames says, his voice breaking. Arthur want nothing more than to kiss him, but there are too many people in the bar, too big a chance to risk it, so he just clenches his fists till his knuckles turn white. Eames nods once, short and understanding.

"Good night Mr. Eames." Arthur hopes he understands everything it means.

Good bye. Good luck. Stay safe. I love you.

Eames nods. "Good night Darling." And Arthur knows he does.

I Want Blood

“That's a very nice suit,” the man pacing back and forth in front of Arthur says. “Are you one of their little pets they dress up and show off, or is it just camouflage?”

“I... I don't,” Arthur shakes his head then winces when it only makes him dizzier. “I'm a law student. I've got an internship at Williams and King. The law firm, downtown.”

“Fuck,” he mutters and looks at Arthur consideringly. “So what were you doing down here? You guys are a bit out of the price range here.”

“Uh, my boss, he uhm...” Arthur rubs his forehead, wondering why it was so hard to remember. “He sent me to find a witness. I think. It's hard to remember.

The man sits down across from him, a sad expression on his face. “Well pet, it looks like you've pissed off some very powerful people, or you know something you're not supposed to. Especially if Williams sent you down here.

Arthur felt his stomach drop. “What... what do you mean? My boss didn't just...”

“It means, love, that I just saved you from assassination by vampire.” Arthur looks at him in dawning horror. “But I couldn't let theme kill you,” he murmurs, like he's forgotten that Arthur can hear him. “Not when you smell so good.”

Arthur shrinks back and wonders what the hell he's just gotten himself into.

Modern Love

Eames gets up from the table and Arthur glares at his retreating back. The pit in his stomach grows when he sees the matching looks of appraisal from Eames' mothers and sister. “So, Francis,” Arthur winces at both her tone and his given name. “Exactly how long was it that you were jerking my brother around before you deigned to make an honest man out of him?” Arthur blanches and scans the room a bit desperately for Eames.

“Maggie,” one of Eames' mothers, Eliza he thinks, scolds from next to him.

She just rolls her eyes. “Sorry. I mean what's your family like?” Eames' other mom, Grace, sighs and shakes her head fondly.

Arthur looks for Eames one last time before he resigns himself to telling the truth. “My father's a city planner, retired now. My oldest brother is an FBI agent-” he turns and smiles gratefully when Eames brushes the back of his neck. “And my other brother teaches at Cal Sci. Hi.” Arthur rushes as Eames sits down.

“Did you drug the water Mags? I think that's the most I've ever heard you say about your family, Darling.” It's a lie, and Arthur is grateful for it. Eames knows exactly how far Arthur had to go to get out from under the thumb of the US Government, and why he did it. Eames changes the subject and Arthur brushes his knee against Eames' in silent thanks.

Valmont

They really were trying to stay out of the game after the Fischer job, honestly. But dreaming was addicting in a way nothing else could ever measure up to. So when the only reason to keep them from taking jobs becomes 'Don't you think two private islands is enough?' Arthur and Eames start working again. But everything is boring after the high of successfully performing inception, so when somebody from the original Project Morpheus crawls out of the woodwork, claiming to have the next best thing, they take it.

They get to DC, then the Captain and the two other people he brought in are murdered, violently and publicly, and Arthur and Eames have to get out of dodge before whoever it was finds them. They must not do a very good job, because two and a half weeks later a woman shows up claiming to have a job for them. She's ex-Mossad, left five years ago for reasons even Arthur can't find, and good. Very good, possibly a better extractor than Dom, only ruthless where he is insidious.

Her last five years are unnerving though, almost too clean, like they've been wiped rather than the result of flying under the radar. Arthur says as much to Eames, who agrees. Which is why they are only mildly surprised and mostly disappointed when they're picked up for questioning by federal agents a week later.

Believe!

Arthur listens to the leaves crunch under his feet as he walks through Central Park. He's supposed to be meeting Eames, but Arthur hasn't spotted him yet. He passes two men having such a painfully obvious secret meeting that he feels embarrassed on their behalf. He wants to sit on the bench next to the man hiding behind the newspaper, just to see what he'll do, but his phone rings.

“My cousin was terrified of the sound of crunching leaves as a child.”

Arthur rolls his eyes. “Pull the other one.”

“No, no I swear,” Eames assures him. “Hand to god, bloody terrified. We used to make these great big leaf piles, then make her listen while we jumped into them.” Eames seemingly melts into being from thin air and starts walking next to him.

“That's horrible,” he says putting away his phone.

“You say that, but maybe she deserved it.”

“Did she?”

“She liked to bite.” Eames winces at the memory. “And push people down stairs. She works for MI6 now, if rumors are to be believed.”

“While this is fascinating you didn't ask me here to tell me about your family.”

“And what if I did?” Eames asks innocently. Arthur raises an eyebrow at him and he capitulates. “Alright, alright. Business first.” He smirks and tucks Arthur's hand into the crook of his elbow.

Arthur sighs and rolls his eyes, but lets him.

Late Night Rendezvous

Arthur pulls into Eames' driveway at a quarter till 11 and when he gets out of his car he can feel somebody watching him. He looks around and sees somebody watching him in from a house across the street. He nods at them in acknowledgement, but they snap the drapes shut.

He goes to ring the doorbell, but it swings open before he could press the button. Eames grins and pulls him inside, pressing him against the door. “Did you make it here okay?”

“Yes,” he says absently while trying to unbutton Eames' shirt. “But I think your neighbor across the street saw me. Could be problematic.”

“Mrs. Kravitz probably.” Eames mutters into Arthur's neck. “Mad as a hatter that one, but I'll talk to her if you'd like?”

Arthur shakes his head and shoves Eames' shirt down his arms. “I think we have more important business tonight Mr. Eames,” he grins and wraps a leg around Eames' waist.

Warning Mark
“I hate you so much.” Arthur mutters into the bartop.

“Come on Arthur,” Eames says placatingly. “It can't be all that bad.”

“Not that bad?” Arthur echoes, peering at Eames over his arms. “Not that bad?” He stands up to more effectively loom over Eames, but he stands up too. “I am stuck here in this- this,” he gesticulates wildly and Arthur realises he is much, much drunker than he thought he was. “Town,” he sneers, soldiering on. “With no clothes, no money, no ID, and no way out.” He growls at Eames, punctuating each word with a shove till he has Eames pinned against a wall. “So don't tell me it's not that bad. I know exactly how bad it is.”

Eames draws in a ragged breath and Arthur notices several things in rapid succession.

The bar has gotten quiet and everybody is watching them. One of the cops that wandered in has his hand ready to go for his sidearm, but another man has a restraining hand on his arm. And then Eames...

Eames has his hands on Arthur's hips holding on tight and keeping them pressed together from knees to neck. Arthur can feel Eames' breath ghosting over his lips and his dick, not quite hard but getting there, pressing against his thigh.

“Just kiss him already, jeeze,” a woman mutters, clearly louder than she thinks she's being.

“Jules!” someone else whispers, trying to shush her.

Arthur tries to pull away but Eames' grip is strong and he can't. “Eames.” He means it to sound stern but instead it comes out breathy and wanting. Eames leans forward and presses a kiss to Arthur's bottom lip. Arthur lets his eyes flutter closed as he kisses back, and they ignore the cheers from the rest of the bar.

Don't Let It Fool You

Arthur races down through the levels, berating himself with every one for letting Eames do this one by himself. “He's a professor of Ancient Studies,” he says to himself, mimicking Eames. “What's the worst that could happen.” Arthur sighs after finding himself in yet another level in yet another historical time period. “I'm gonna kill him.”

Finally, after more levels than Arthur thought anyone could have much less keep stable, Arthur washes up on the beach of the most fascinating city he has ever seen. Most dream cities have a feeling of a real city, even though they're not copies, but this one feels like it could be anywhere and everywhere.

Arthur explores for hours, maybe days or months till he comes across a house that reminds him so much of Eames it feels like a punch to the gut. He runs inside, but Eames isn't there. When he leaves there's an Aston Martin in the driveway with the client, Adam, sitting on the hood.

“You must be Arthur,” he says, holding his hand out. “Maybe now that you're here he'll let himself get older and we can get out of here.”

Arthur frowns, puzzled. “You mean you know-”

“That we're dreaming and on the bottom of my subconscious?” Pierson smirks. “Yes, but that's neither here nor there. What matters is your man is waiting for you.” He presses the keys into Arthur's hand. “Through the forest, up the mountains there's a house. You'll know it when you see it. The road should take you there, but follow it even if it doesn't.”

Arthur stares at the keys in his hand, then at Pierson, who is melting back into the city. “Why are you-”

“Call it a favour,” he says as he disappears around a corner.

Arthur nods and starts the car, ready to go after Eames.

Under The Bright Lights

“We've got to get out of here Arthur, they'll find us if we stay.”

Arthur stays where he is, face turned up to the sky, tracking one of the satellites they've just sabotaged. “We did this,” he whispers. Eames can barely hear him over the gunfire in the building behind them.

“Yes darling, and now we have to go before the find us and kill us.” Arthur nods and they blend into the panicking crowd, letting it carry them away from the burning building.

Later, when they are a relatively safe distance out of the city they pull over and trade desperate kisses while the satellites fall through the atmosphere, setting the sky ablaze.

All Night Long

Arthur is eighteen when he graduates from the Salem Academy and is finally allowed to inherit his parents' estate. He has no interest in being a socialite, or whatever else is expected of him, so he packs up, seals the Salem and New York houses and moves to the Yellowstone house. It's larger than he remembers so he closes up the main house, moves into the caretaker's apartment and is content.

Until one night there is a new wolf in the forest. He's not from the pack that lives in the town just north of the park, he is far too wary and mangy, and they never stray this far south. They circle each other, but Arthur doesn't feel threatened or disdainful of the new wolf the way he was of just about everyone he's met. Instead he feels oddly proprietary. He wants to hold him down to feel him submit, wants to keep him here, wants to make him stay.

The new wolf takes Arthur's moment of navel-gazing to run off. He's good, he evades Arthur for nearly an hour, but Arthur's better. Arthur tackles him and they go tumbling across the ground. Arthur pins him, then notices he's gone stiff and trembling. Arthur immediately knows that if he tries to shake him out if it, that'll only scare him more, that he ran because he was scared, not because he wanted to play. Arthur rubs his nose on his neck, trying to comfort him, let him know he's not mad, that he's safe. The trembling slows and Arthur does it again and again till he goes limp underneath him. Arthur does it once more for good measure and is pleased when the other wolf gives him a content rumble.

Suddenly he leans up and licks Arthur's face, then squirms away and runs off. Arthur is so shocked he doesn't notice he's only gone a few feet till he comes back and nudges his shoulder. Arthur growls and pounces, pinning him easily. He leans up and licks Arthur's face again, as if to say 'See? You've still got me. I'm not going anywhere'. Arthur leans down and nips his neck. He arches, baring everything and something white hot and more than pleased runs through Arthur. It's satisfied and possessive and Arthur somehow knows they'll always be able to find each other. So when he squirms away and looks back at Arthur with a lolling grin, Arthur grins back and gives chase. Arthur's not sure what will happen when morning comes, but they'll be ready.

Midnight Land

When Arthur wakes up too early and without the intel they've been sent under to get, he's ready to bust a few heads. But then he realizes that Michaels and Parker are dead, Williams has taken a hit in the shoulder, they're surrounded by gunfire and they are well and truly fucked. He starts to sit up but Williams grabs his hand and pulls him to the floor just as another hail of bullets rains down on them. “Christ, Davis. Don't you get shot up too. It's not all it's cracked up to be, I promise.”

“I don't suppose-”

“They'd be here by now if they were coming,” Williams says solemnly.

Arthur nods and shivers despite the heat. “It's been a pleasure Captain.”

“Eames,” he says softly. Arthur is about to ask what that means when he speaks again. “Marcus Eames. I figure I can tell you the name my mother gave me, instead of the one the Government gave me. Since we're probably going to die and all.”

“Wesley Arthur Harrison,” he says holding out his hand. “The fifth.”

William- Eames coughs. “Well it's been a pleasure.”

“Arthur.” he supplies softly.

“Arthur.” Eames nods and grips Arthur's hand tight. They lay quietly, hands still clasped till they hear a helicopter. “What do you suppose the odds are-”

“Slim to nil.” Arthur says. Then he works up his nerve and leans over to press a kiss to Eames' mouth.

Eames groans and brings a trembling hand up to cup Arthur's face. “You have exquisite timing Arthur.” That forces a small laugh out of him and Eames smiles.

“Well, we've finally got a minute alone,” Arthur says dryly. Eames laughs, then winces. He brushes a kiss to Eames' palm as the back door breaks down.

“Somebody ask for a ride?” an almost familiar voice asks.

Eames tilts his head back. “Shep, what the hell are you doing?”

Arthur recognizes him as one of the Air Force pilots stationed at the nearest base. “Well, this British bastard saved my life one time, I figured I might return the favor.” Eames protests, but eventually acquiesces to being put in the chopper. As the ground gets further away Arthur wonders what happens now that they're supposed to be dead twice over.

My Poor Lover

The job is simple. Their client, a senator with presidential aspirations, wants to know if his wife, the mark, is planning on leaving him because of his affair. She's said she won't, but he doesn't believe her. It's easy enough in theory, but in practice it has proven to be much harder.

It's their third attempt because the client is still not satisfied, and Arthur still can't figure out how Eames talked him into this. They're in the Pendleton's DC town house, setting up an incriminating trail of clothes to the bedroom for the wife, Gwen, to find. Eames is wearing the client's, also named Arthur-- unbelievably enough, face. Arthur will be playing the part of the lover, and Mr. Senator has assured them that Mrs. Senator doesn't know what he looks like.

"I still say this is a bad idea," Arthur mutters, climbing the stairs.

"If you can think of a better way to find out how she'll react before thinking it through then I'm all ears Darling." Arthur glares, but keeps climbing the stairs to the master bedroom.

Twenty minutes later Ariadne calls to tell them she's just dropped off Mrs. Senator off, which means it's showtime. Arthur sits stiffly on the edge of the bed next to Eames who is already splayed out on the bed and looking at Arthur with hooded eyes. Well come on Love,” The senator says in Eames' voice. “She's never going to believe it with you all the way over there.”

Arthur sighs and lays down on the bed, then yelps when Eames manhandles him to sit astride his legs. Arthur glares, but Eames just smirks and thrusts his hip sup. Arthur, already unbalanced, tips forward and catches himself with his forearms bracketing Eames' head. “I hate you so much right now,” Arthur growls.

Fifteen minutes later there were three matters Arthur was dealing with. First, Mrs. Senator still hadn't found them, which meant that two, they were running out of time. The last was that Eames had a fucking filthy mouth. Well, the Senator had a filthy mouth and Eames' Senator had to live up to it. It was quite the disconnect to have Eames almost shouting for Arthur to 'ride him harder', then whispering the most random and inane things in between. He was fed up and so close to flipping Eames over to give him a piece of his mind when they heard a noise from the door. They sprang apart and wrapped the blankets around themselves, trying to look guilty rather than relieved.

“Gwen?” Eames asks cautiously. He gets up and wraps a sheet securely around his waist before opening the door. “Gwen! What are you-”

“You don't have to stop just for me,” Arthur hears a female voice purr before Eames lets the door swing open the whole way. Mrs. Senator is standing in the doorway, wearing four inch heels, black and purple lace lingerie and a shit eating grin. As she pushes Eames toward the bed the countdown music begins and Arthur can't remember ever being so relieved to hear it.

Keep The Mood

Eames watches Arthur as he makes his way up to the bar. They've been lying low for three days, but Eames still isn't sure if they've been followed. Arthur is however, which is how they've ended up at a bar down the street from their hotel, Arthur slowly getting pissed out of his skull. Eames usually likes drunken Arthur, he is more loud, more affectionate, more silly, more everything than the Arthur he sees when they work together. But tonight he just wants to bundle Arthur up and take him back to their hotel so Eames is the only one who gets to see him like this. And Eames has to stop that train of thought because it is getting dangerously close to creepy possessive boyfriend territory, all things Eames is not.

So Arthur is waiting at the bar and Eames is definitely not watching to make sure nobody is trying to get overly friendly with his point man, when a short, curly haired man slides next to Arthur. Arthur politely ignores him and Eames' jaw unclenches. The man soldiers on though, keeps smiling and touching Arthur regardless of the hole Eames is trying to drill into his skull with his brain. Then he says something that makes Arthur laugh and shake his head. Thankfully the bartender chooses that moment to show up with Arthur's drinks before Eames deems it necessary to drag Arthur back.

Then between one breath and the next Arthur is back and inexplicably sliding into Eames' lap. “I just turned down a threesome,” he whispers into Eames' neck. “And I'm not sure why.”

“Arthur,” Eames gasps, his hands tightening on Arthur's hips, keeping him there instead of just keeping him from falling. He can feel Arthur's breath ghosting across his neck sending shivers down his spine. “Arthur, what-”

Arthur pulls back, had hands coming up to cradle Eames' face. “I want you,” he whispers. His voice sounds harsh, like the admission has been ripped out of him.

Eames closes his eyes, hardly able to believe his ears. “Say that again,” he whispers so close their lips almost brush.

“I want you,” he says again. “I've wanted you for-” Eames cuts him off with a kiss.

Anywhere

“What are you doing here?” Eames hisses at Arthur. “The whole god damned military is looking for you. They've searched the house three times. Bradley himself gave orders for you to be shot on sight. What the fuck happened?”

“What did you tell them?” Arthur asks, ignoring Eames and going through the wall safe.

Eames glares. “That they're stupid because I haven't heard from you in six months and you could be anywhere for all I know. All true I might add.” Arthur's shoulders tense, but he nods and keeps rifling through the safe. “Arthur,” Eames says, turning him around and pressing him against the wall. His hair is longer than it's been in years and it's killing Eames how gaunt he is. “What happened? It was supposed to be three weeks, then you drop off the face of the planet and when you came back you're-”

Arthur's hands fist in the front of Eames' shirt and he notices Arthur's trembling. It scares him more than anything else in the past few months has and it makes him want to wrap Arthur up and hide him so nobody can find him. “Darling,” he whispers and Arthur breaks.

“I found something out,” he says to the floor. “About Bradley, something nobody should know. Or maybe everybody, I don't know. But he'll kill to keep it. He's done it before and he'll do it again.” He pulls back to look at Eames. “I can't stay here you know.”

Eames pulls Arthur back to him and kisses his temple. “I know. We'll figure it out.”

Hayley

Arthur's jaw drops in a little oh of shock and the blood starts blooming around the bullet hole in his chest. Ariadne watches as Eames jumps forward to catch him, cradling him as they sink to the floor. Arthur whispers something too quiet for her to hear over the gunfire, but Eames laughs wetly. “This isn't the first time you've died on me and I'll be damned if it's the last.”

She's startled out of her daze when Cobb knocks something over with a loud clatter. She springs into action, reaching into a cupboard behind her for a medkit, then kneels next to Arthur and opens it. “Eames,” she says, shaking his shoulder till he looks at her. “Eames I need you to take his tie off and tie it around his shoulder as tight as you can, understand?” He nods and she gets to work, field dressing it as well as she can to keep him from bleeding out. Eames watches her work, mostly worried for Arthur, but partly intrigued by her competence. AS she puts everything away, she follows a hunch, but still gasps when she runs her fingers over the SPENCER written in her father's blocky print. “This is a dream,” she whispers and for a split second there is a lull in the gunfire. It's barely noticeable to even a trained observer, but it's enough to confirm her suspicions.

“They've got to have us under sedation,” she says as they move another box into place.

“So if he dies then...”

“He goes to limbo.” Eames finishes quietly. “But how can you-”

“Because that bag is my father's. It used to be under a loose floorboard in his house in Wyoming till it got torched nine years ago.” Eames nods and sits next to Arthur as she goes back to the cabined and pulls out the PASIV case. “Good luck,” she whispers as Eames sets the two of them up, Arthur's head cradled in his lap. Ariadne watches over them as they slip under together, rifle ready in her lap just in case.

if anybody thinks this is worthy to be pimped out anywhere, go ahead :)

someday I really will write a real post.

2010-10-27T04:46:49Z

but until then, a poll! but first I have to explain the options.

white collar flip flop!
au where Elizabeth is the international art thief who, with her girlfriend Kate (they like to masquerade as sisters because they look so alike, then make out and watch the shocked faces), eludes FBI agent Peter Burke for years till she tries to forge a painting by Burke's ~~boyfriend~~ ... ~~husband~~ ... ~~life partner~~ ... person with whom he lives with and has totally awesome sex with, but it is totally not a relationship even though they've been doing it for almost 10 years now. (THEY DON'T LIKE LABELS OKAY?) Neal (to be fair, it's done under a pseudonym to keep famous!Nick apart from gallery manager!Neal) she gets caught and put into supermax. But then she breaks out to rescue Kate from the evil clutches of a raving madman! (or maybe just a dude who's being blackmailed, but that's neither here nor there) and winds up in Burke's custody to serve out the rest of her sentence helping the FBI fighting crime! (possibly ot3, but would probably be mostly El/Kate and Neal/Peter)

slaughterhouse 5 au
Arthur Matthews (maybe? idk I'll work on the last name) has become unstuck in time. He's spending time in his emotionally unsatisfying marriage and the hours leading up to his reveal of the dreamshare technology and his time in the army stationed in Afghanistan and when he was kidnapped by time traveling aliens to live in their zoo as Eames' mate and his childhood.

magic gypsy au thing
I have already talked about this bunches of times I think, but basically ryan is a gypsy on this continent where magic ~doesn't exist~, except it really does and gypsies have magic and he is also bob bryar's cousin and there is bob/jon/spencer and brendon is a prince sort of and he lives on the rim where there is no magic, only technology but he runs away and the further he gets to the inside the more magic he gets and it would be really long and epic and I could totally make it ~original fiction if I wanted to which I think I might someday.

the most terrifying power couple in the world
make that the HISTORY of the world. Mycroft (bbc!sherlock)/Saito (Inception). (I totally blame acountrymouse for this.) basically as many words as I can about them being BAMFs who basically rule the freaking world, and look good while doing it. and there will probably be sexyfuntimes ~~because that's how I roll~~ mycroft likes to lick saito's tattoos (those are so totally canon for me, idgaf)

View Poll: it is almost november!

haaaayyyyyyyyyyy

2010-10-22T00:39:34Z

so, i could totally post about a whole bunch of other things, including the inception ficlets I have written based on empires songs, or why I have domestic urges and could totally be happy being a housewife (and why I feel that should not only be applicable to the female gender and I can rec one of my favorite psych fics where shawn is lassiter's wife which is awesome and I can't quite articulate why) or the thing I am vaguely planning for nano which is an inception slaughterhouse 5 au (ARTHUR IS UNSTUCK IN TIME) and is super depressing upon further reflection.

BUT I AM KIND OF DRUNK. SO SOMEBODY SHOULD IM ME INSTEAD. I AM UNREQUITEDRAIN ON AIM :D?

ADAM FUCKING LAMBERT COVERING METALLICA, MY LIFE IT IS COMPLETE

2010-10-18T06:47:00Z

AND NOT JUST ANY METALLICA SONG, BUT MY FAVORITE ONE.

IF I WAKE UP TO AN MP3 OF THIS I WILL WORSHIP THE GROUND YOU WALK ON FOREVER.

unrequited_rain @ 2010-09-28T21:13:00

2010-09-29T02:13:47Z

*SIGH* OKAY YOU WIN. I WATCHED INCEPTION. AND NOW I NEED ALL THE ARTHUR/EAMES IN THE WORLD. But I totally blame Neal Caffrey for sucking me in because Neal is TOTALLY Arthur and Eames's kid. NO REALLY. (this is what made me download a cam & watch it instead of waiting for a screener/for it to come out on dvd) pre-movie when Neal is thirteen he tries to pick Eames's pocket and he ends up taking Neal home to Arthur because he is totally adorable and is like CAN WE KEEP HIM :D? (there's more to it than that, but that would ruin the surprise!)

facepalm

2010-09-27T20:20:06Z

I am sorry Z Berg, you and Ryan are adorable as kittens, but you don't get to dis Mother Monster on my watch. Especially not when you dress up like a saloon whore and leeloo and wear shirts that show off your nipples for parties.

oh hey, so...

2010-09-27T17:08:36Z

I want a white collar fic where Elizabeth is the thief trying to track down her girlfriend Kate after she gets out of prison, and Neal is a (mildly successful) painter and Peter is still an FBI agent who put El in prison and Peter and Neal are married and adorable and have ten bazillion fur kids, and there is (maybe?) Diana/Elizabeth and eventually Elizabeth/Neal/Peter.

to totally change the subject, some day I am going to make a post on why catcher in the rye is my favorite book. (which probably says a lot about me, come to think.) but not today.

unrequited_rain @ 2010-09-17T22:11:00

2010-09-18T03:11:09Z

SO, THE THING I AM TAKING THE MOST FROM MCR'S KILLJOYS TRAILER?

MIKEY IS BLOND WHAT THE FUCK.

I have lots of other thoughts about the video too (INCLUDING RAY TORO LICKING HIS FINGERS OH MY GOD WHAT. and also: frank iero is always fucking hot idgaf what you say.) but most of them can not be articulated at this point in time. TOO MUCH AWESOME. CAN NOT PROCESS.

unrequited_rain @ 2010-09-15T22:03:00

2010-09-16T03:03:08Z

Dear Merlin writers/producers/other people with the show,

please write an episode based on Tennyson's The Lady of Shalott, preferably a story about Camelot told through her eyes etc,

it would be AWESOME.

love,
me

ps. barring that if some industrious fic writer wants to write a fic based on above premise I would probably owe you my SOUL. (and if you made it arthur/merlin I would def. owe you a first born or two)

unrequited_rain @ 2010-09-12T01:12:00

2010-09-12T06:14:33Z

HOLY SONNETS.

XIV.

Batter my heart, three-person'd God ; for you
As yet but knock ; breathe, shine, and seek to mend ;
That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend
Your force, to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
I, like an usurp'd town, to another due,
Labour to admit you, but O, to no end.
Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
But is captived, and proves weak or untrue.
Yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain,
But am betroth'd unto your enemy ;
Divorce me, untie, or break that knot again,
Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.

John Donne

unrequited_rain @ 2010-09-02T21:27:00

2010-09-03T02:27:06Z

OH MY GOD INTERNET, YOU HAVE TO GO AND LISTEN TO THIS. I DON'T CARE WHO YOU ARE. EVEN IF YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT LITTLE SHOP OF HORRORS IS, AND EVEN IF YOU DON'T LIKE BANDOM, AND EVEN IF YOU HATE MUSICALS. EVERYONE NEEDS TO LISTEN TO THIS, OH MY GOD.

Dallon Weekes, Brendon Urie, Ian Crawford and Matt Glass cover Skid Row from Little Shop of Horrors I have already listened to it about half a dozen times.