#Nate x Brad

[ferally-ships]

⌜𝟏𝟎 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝟏𝟎 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐬⌟

Thank you for the tag @iceman-kazansky This was a lot harder than I thought because I didn't realise how many 'fandoms' I'm no longer in XD

𝐴𝑑𝑚𝑖𝑟𝑎𝑙 𝐾𝑎𝑧𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑘𝑦, 𝑇𝑜𝑝 𝐺𝑢𝑛: 𝑀𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝐿𝑖𝑒𝑢𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑁𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝐹𝑖𝑐𝑘, 𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝐾𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝐿𝑖𝑒𝑢𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑆𝑝𝑒𝑖𝑟𝑠, 𝐵𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑓 𝐵𝑟𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑃𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝐷𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑒𝑙 𝐽𝑎𝑐𝑘𝑠𝑜𝑛, 𝑆𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑃𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑅𝑦𝑎𝑛 𝐷𝑜𝑐𝑡𝑜𝑟 𝐻𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑏𝑎𝑙 𝐿𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟, 𝐻𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑏𝑎𝑙 𝐿𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑅𝐾900*, 𝐷𝑒𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑖𝑡: 𝐵𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝐻𝑢𝑚𝑎𝑛 𝐶𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝐿𝑒𝑣𝑖 𝐴𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑛, 𝐴𝑡𝑡𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑜𝑛 𝑇𝑖𝑡𝑎𝑛 𝑇𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑦 𝑆ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑏𝑦, 𝑃𝑒𝑎𝑘𝑦 𝐵𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑇ℎ𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑠 𝐵𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑤, 𝐷𝑜𝑤𝑛𝑡𝑜𝑛 𝐴𝑏𝑏𝑒𝑦 𝐴𝑎𝑟𝑜𝑛 𝐻𝑜𝑡𝑐ℎ𝑛𝑒𝑟, 𝐶𝑟𝑖𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑀𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑠

*Granted, the fandom basically made up the model RK900's personality. But it's basically canon lore, so I'm still counting it.

|| Tagging: @hxad-ovxr-hxart, @georgieluzz, @sir-mr-dr-roe, Anyone else I've forgotten to tag because I am terrible at remembering!

[hitman-two]

i'm literally so excited that you're so active again!! and those hcs???? yes please 👏

🥺🥺🥺 oh my heart. I didn’t think anybody cared about the writing 🤣 but that’s also my petty insecurities for ya!

I’ve got a request for Doc and Nate HCs so they’re coming too!

One-shot requests are still there. Just need to get through the next few days until Christmas/New Years is over and I’m back on a regular routine. It’s not gone ignored or forgotten. I promise x

[wcters]

𝗣𝗔𝗦𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗠𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗦

pairing: nate fick x fem!reader

word count: 1.4k+

summary: you and nate hated not being able to act like a couple sometimes, but you never broke the rules . . . at least you tried not to

warnings: established relationship, angst, weapons, swearing, sexual innuendos, some outdated wording, war, war language, wounds, blood, violence, etc | this is based on the fictional characters from the series generation kill, not the actual war veterans. this is no way intended to hurt or disrespect the veterans

You knew what you were signing up for when you joined the marines: stress, rough work, misogyny, mostly men, and passing moments.

You had met Nate Fick when you were a teenager. You had met in high school through mutual friends and you had clicked. Soon enough he got the courage to ask you out and it's been the same ever since. You'd been through everything together. You'd graduated together, you moved with him to Dartmouth College, and signed up for the marines together. Seemed fit that you were stationed together.

You felt good knowing you were fighting for a good cause, but you never thought it would be this hard. Yes, you see and work with him everyday, but you don't get to kiss him, hug him - even hold his hand. Sometimes, when you both managed to sneak away, you'd get some time to catch up and act like a couple, but after that it's back to coworkers. You hated that, but you never broke the rules.

The sound of the Humvee's engine lulled you into a sense of calm. It never really was calm, but it did feel nice being in the one place you recognized. Ray was rambling about something stupid while Brad looked like he was just about ready to shoot him. Trombley was with the gun, probably tired of Ray's rambling too, and the reporter was asleep beside you.

"How much ripped fuel have you ingested?" Brad's voice broke you from your trance. You snorted, "too much. He's going to be shorting out pills." Ray laughed, lack of sleep clear, "I'm on it like a motherfucker Brad! At this point, I think my whole stomach is those fucking pills!" You looked to Evan and rolled your eyes. "No more of that shit." Brad told Ray. "Yeah, you'll overdose. Even though that would be great, we need a driver."

Ray started ranting again while you got into the least neck-breaking position you could and tired to fall asleep. You had gotten used to his insane rambles and it lulled you to sleep.

When you finally work up, the sun was out and you were still in the vehicle. "Y/n, you're finally awake after 50 fucking hours." Brad said as he saw you sit up. "Damn, I thought you were dead. I wanted to put Rudy in your place so I could see his beautiful gay face every time I looked back there instead of your hideous one." Ray added, looking at you through the mirror.

“Hideous? Wow Ray, that's a big word. I didn't know you knew words like that, let alone speak anything other than the simplest terms out there." Before he could rebuttal, Brad was on the radio. "Hitman Two, this is Two One. Do you want my victor to provide overwatch on the northeast corner of the M.S.R?" "Roger that. This is Hitman Two. All Hitman Victors align of Two One." Nate's  voice was heard through the radio and you smiled when you heard it.

“We're not done this conversation you bitch." Ray pointed at your reflection. You just posted back.

Your Humvee pulled into the group of cars and it stopped. You opened the door and got out, stretching your arms and legs as you did so. You had seen Nate when you passed by so you made it your mission to find him. Right when you got close, you heard the sound of tires on cement. You turned your head towards the sound and saw two white trucks coming towards you.

“Sir, I observe men with A.K.S. They're in the lead vehicle." Rudy explained as you leaned down with your gun out. "Hitman, this is Hitman Two. We have two victors with armed Iraqis approaching. How copy?" Nate spoke into the radio. "Hitman, solid copy." "Hitman, I am seeing armed Iraqis in civilian clothes in white pickups marked with red diamonds."

“We should smoke 'em, sir!" Someone called out from behind you. You did a slight chuckle. Only a marine would be this desperate. "Hitman Two, this is Hitman. Interrogative. Can you . . . Can you wave them off? Over." A voice replied back. You looked to Rudy in front of you and raised your eyebrow. He did the same. "Hitman, this is Two. These are armed Iraqis in marked Victors with weapons pointed at us. Over." Nate was persistent with what he was saying and probably thought the same thing as you and everyone else did.

“R.O.E. States uniformed soldiers only, and they should be firing at us." This time, you turned back around to look at Nate and made eye contact with him. "This is Two. I'm requesting to at least snatch one victor, find out who these guys are. Over." "Negative. Wave 'em off." "Hitman out."

A couple of voices rang out saying things like "this sucks!" and "what the fuck?" until it was silenced with the sound of A.K going off. You stayed still while the marines shot at them while they drove off, and didn't realize anything was wrong until there was a hand on your shoulder. "You okay, y/n? You haven't moved." Right when you turned to face Nate you felt the pain in your side and groaned. You dropped your gun on the ground and instinctively put your hand to you side, then pulled it off. Red.

Nate must've realized this too as he caught you before you fell backwards. He sat down and pulled your head into his lap, his hand going to where your bullet hole was. "Corpsman! Shit, shit, shit. Corpsman!" You moaned in pain as he hand pressed harder and his yelling caused a headache. "I know honey, I know it hurts." You mumbled out a Nate as you started getting delirious. He slapped you cheek lightly to keep you awake. When your vision was clear for a couple seconds, you saw Doc Bryan.

“Hey y/n. You doing okay?" He asked as he grabbed a bandage from his bag. "Great." You joked with slurred speech. That was the last thing you said before you passed out. While you were out, Nate was worried. Probably the most anxious he had been in his entire life, but he managed to compose himself and lead his group. He watched as you were taken away in a stretcher to the Doc's Humvee.

Nate didn't see or hear from you again for a week or two, which felt like forever. He hated not knowing how you were. Doc Bryan had assured him that you would be fine, that it wasn't too bad, but Nate being your boyfriend worried no matter what the man said.

He was sitting and talking to Brad while the mail had finally arrived. He didn't really expect anything, and was surprised when one was dropped on his lap. He picked it up and noticed the handwriting on the front. It was yours.

"Y/n?" Brad asked him. "Yeah. At least I think so. That's her handwriting." Nate replied. Brad patted him on the back and got up. "Well, if you right her back let her know we miss her. And that we need her back to get Ray to shut the fuck up." Nate laughed at that and began to open the letter.

"Dear Nathan,

It's me. I think you would've figured that out from the handwriting on the front. Sorry I couldn't write you sooner, I've been in the hospital and haven't been able to get stamps. I'm doing good. It hurts, but doesn't hurt more than being away from your stupid face.

As much as I hate to say it, I miss Ray's stupid rambling about how pussy would solve the war and Brad's hate for country music. Hope they're doing well, and hope Brad can get Ray to shut the fuck up.

I also hate to say I miss out passing moments. They kept me sane out there. They were what I was waiting for everyday. I miss your touch, your smell, your face.

I've been wearing your shirts to bed. They still smell like you, without sweat and dirt. It feels weird being home, especially without you. I've been keeping up with the news and it's sounding like it'll end in the next couple months. I don't think I'll be able to come back. I'll keep writing you though, and when you get internet, maybe send you something else.

Don't let your hair out too long, and don't get shot. Who else is going to keep those stupid fucknuts in line.

Love you,

Y/n.”

He smiled and closed the letter, shoving it in his pocket. God he couldn't wait to see you, in real life, or in a picture that he would make good use of.

[screwbysir]

Brad + Nate (and the reporter as comedic relief)

it's ✨them✨

[inglourious-imagines]

Hello! I'm so glad to have stumbled on your blog! I'd like to request anything for Doc Bryan of GenKill please. I can and will wait forever for any Doc content 😅 I saw your prompt list and I think

1. I fucking hate everyone. But you, you’re the only person I don’t hate.

would suit him quite well HAHA but prompt number 3 and prompt number 9 would be quite sweet too 😁 anyway, anything you write I will gratefully read and love. Thanks so much!

Life Vest (Doc Bryan x GN!Reader)

Requested by: anon

Prompt: #1 - I fucking hate everyone. But you, you're the only person I don't hate.

Summary: You're a Corpsman with the Recon Marines, working alongside doc Bryan. After one tough afternoon, you two finally (somewhat ;)) talk.

Taglist: in my bio

Warnings: child's death although it doesn't actually happen in this fic

A/N: I don't study medicine so I might have fucked up some facts about certain things so apologies if I did. Thank you for your request!

.

.

.

With every passing second, more and more locals are appearing, surrounding the group of Marines in the middle of some Iraqi town almost none of them know how to actually pronounce. From behind the cornerns of ruins of old buildings, out of the beaten doors of houses that hadn't been bombed yet, from small huts, children, women, men of all ages are coming to see what is happening.

The small area is slowly getting too crowded to have it under control and Lt. Fick is pacing around the scene unfolding before his eyes with apparent unease. US Marines are stationed around the place, but all of them know it is not enough. 

Fick waves his left hand and within a second he has Brad Colbert by his side, awaiting orders. 

"Get Bryan and Y/N out of there. We can't handle this anymore. We need to be Oscar Mike ASAP."

Brad only nods and he's already pushing his way through the crowd that seems to be made of concrete rather than people, as the young soldier struggles to advance forward.

In the centre of it all, kneeling on the ground, with blood soaked into the sand, are the two exhausted Corpsmen. 

"The children are going to die here." Bryan states matter-of-factly without even looking up, while he's bandaging the young boy who can't be more than seven years old. 

You know that but the words still send a chill down your spine, but you continue working too, without the apparent pointlessness of the reality to stop you.

You always know the facts after observing the situation, just like Bryan does, but you've never been able to announce it with such distance and certain cold even, even though you know it is necessary. 

Robert Timothy Bryan is a straightforward man, a trait useful in the Corps and you've learned over the time to report the situation to your superior officers, but you still lack that sort of Bryaness and you probably always will. 

You allow yourself to steal a glance at him. He's concentrated at the work before him, as he always is, the look of focus in his eyes more visible than ever. His face doesn't show any other emotion much, but you know he's exhausted beyond words, physically and mentally, although he would never admit to that out loud. 

You come back to the little boy under your arms. He has two fractured ribs, that are causing him great pain but you are simply unable to do anything about it, he has one bad scratch on his left arm and a deep cut on his thigh - there is no serious bleeding and it is apparent that it must have been some time since he got wounded.

You cut off a part of his trousers to get a better access to the wound and you immediately notice the bloody spots and bruises. 

You pick up your gaze to look at Bryan to find him already staring at you. You both know what this means, there is no need to say it out loud.

You look back down at the little boy, there are tears in his brown eyes and suddenly there's a lump in your throat. You desperately want to help the kid, but no matter what you do, nothing will be enough. The blood poisoning will kill him, you don't know when, he has only some hours to live tops, if he's lucky, and so far his fate has played a cruel game with him.

Then his little hand reaches for yours and you instinctively squeeze it. You hear in the background some voice saying something, you don't know what, you're too caught up in the moment that suddenly nothing matters anymore and the eyes of the boy make you question if this is really your war, if it really isn't your presence that will got him killed eventually.

In your peripheral vision you catch Bryan standing up and patting someone on the shoulder but you stop paying attention to that right away.

The boy is saying something now you don't understand but you just know he's begging you to help him. And you can't. 

"I know," you hear yourself say, "I know and I'm sorry."

Useless words. Empty. Meaningless.

A woman kneels down before you, scooping the boy in her arms. His hand falls out of yours and it breaks your heart. He looks just like the woman, both of them with deep brown eyes, soft features, thick brown hair. 

She nods. An understanding. 

You wouldn't be able to tell her that her son will die in her arms, probably tonight. 

There is a soft tap on your shoulder. You turn your head slightly. 

"We have to go," Bryan is whispering into your ear, his hand still resting on your shoulder. You lean into his touch for comfort and you convince yourself it is everything you need in order to pull yourself together.

You don't look at the boy anymore. You can't. You stand up to follow your fellow Corpsman and without any warning, he reaches behind himself for your hand. He grabs it to not lose you in the crowd.

And you hold onto it like it's a life vest. Perhaps it is everything you need to pull through this war, perhaps he is.

---

Later that day, when you stop for the night, you can't sleep. You can see those helpless eyes of that boy every time you close your eyes.

This, most definitely, is not your first encounter with wounded locals you couldn't save, as it is not your last, but this one stays with you, no matter how much you fight it. 

"Good work today, Y/N," you can hear Bryan's voice behind you. He sits on the ground next to you, shoulders and knees touching, and finally his affection towards you surprises you. You were too caught up in those moments before to notice how much he actually looks after you. 

"If you say so," you respond, not sharing his opinion. You feel like you failed today. 

"I know so," he counters, nudging you softly with his side. You finally smile.

You wait for him to bring up the boy incident but he doesn't speak one word of it and you're more than grateful. You couldn't talk about it if you tried. Maybe in a few years, but not today, and Bryan knows this, even if you don't. 

"You're awfully nice to me lately," you decide to keep the conversation going, turning your head to look at him for just a moment.

He chuckles at that, a sound you haven't heard enough and could easily get drunk on. "I'm nice to everyone." 

You burst out laughing at his answer, as all those cold stares and snarky comments of his come to your mind. 

He joins in, smiling. "That felt wrong just to say it."

"Tell me about it."

"I just-" he surpises you when he continues, "I just fucking hate everyone." 

You stop laughing and your heart drops a little but Bryan is still talking. "But you? You're the only person I don't hate." 

You're so caught off guard that you can't find anything to say back to that as your own capibility to talk fails you. The words hang above you both, you savour the feeling because you finally don't feel so alone in the vast world.

Something clicks in you when he says those words and you're smiling now, you couldn't stop smiling if you wanted to.

You grab his hand and squeeze it, you don't let go of him, you can't now. 

"I don't hate you too," you finally respond and you don't have to look at him to know he's smiling now too. 

[accol-fics]

Happy holidays to @momecat ! Here's your gift for HBOWarSanta23!

Up 1200 and Up

Summary: This wasn’t just a stress response. There had been seeds of this in Nate’s psyche long before things had gone to shit here in the desert. Since that first meeting, Nate always kept Brad in his line of sight. His situational awareness always included Brad’s position.

12 stories about finding meaning in a meaningless war.

Brad/Nate. Rated E. 7800 words.

100.

Day 1, Oceanside. Nate was stiff from the flight. Deep purple bruises earned at jump school ached on his hip and shoulder.

He checked in with Command, dropped his duffel at his temporary bunk, and was out the door in his PTs. Under the 5 and down to the beach, he ran until his body was loose and hot.

Later, in the showers, a tall, blond man nodded approvingly toward the fresh, raw marks along Nate’s left clavicle, tapping his own faded scars. Nate’s jump school pinning hadn’t yet healed. A thin trickle of red washed away under the spray.

200.

“That's a low priority to pass on?”

The muscles of Nate's forehead and brows bunched into a scowl. His frustrated words about his CO’s ineptitude were out of line. He knew it, but saying them aloud was a pressure-relief valve that kept his sanity intact.

“Personal feelings, sir,” Brad said, echoing Nate's chastisement of him only minutes earlier. His smirk was audacious.

The commiseration and, indeed, Brad's sass were appreciated. Peak comedy, Nate thought, was an inside joke revisited at just the right moment. Brad grinned broadly at the eyeroll Nate failed to fully suppress.

Speaking of safety valves. Turns out Brad is an effective one.

Still, it took a while for Nate to realize how tense his fingers were on the butt of his M16. Bravo Two was tight, competent. They could handle the lack of armor crossing the breach point. They'd be alert. They were trained to adapt to the unexpected.

He flexed his hand, loosening his grip. Nothing good comes from perseverating.

“Hitman Two Actual, this is Two One Alpha. Interrogative.”

Brad's voice came over the radio. Nate blinked away the unproductive tension in his gut and picked up the handset.

“This is Two Actual. Send it.”

300.

It was not surprising in the least.

From behind Two-Three’s vehicle, Nate saw it clearly: Brad apologized to Baptista for overreacting on comms.

It was an olive branch extended to repair a relationship. It was for the morale of the platoon. It was to put things right between himself and a colleague. And it was obviously what Brad Colbert would do in this situation. Of course he would apologize.

He continued to both surprise and not surprise Nate. Absent in him was the typical Marine hypermasculinity that dictated the posturing of other men. Brad had elevated himself above all of that. Nate wondered if it was a conscious decision. Probably not. Calm efficiency fit him too well. The intensity of the emotions in his eyes, however, showed the respect he had for their men and the Corps.

Nate watched him walk away and he wondered what Brad’s internal voice sounded like. Was it a stream of excerpts from the Art of War? Maybe it was Kierkegaard stripped of the religious aspects. Or was it simply staccato bursts of necessary info on the ROE? It was fascinating to imagine the way Brad’s mind worked.

Nate would never truly know, of course. Just like Nate’s own inner voice was unknowable to anyone else. They held their thoughts too close to their flak vests here. An icy veneer was mission critical (as evidenced by Dave’s cracking front and crumbling command of his team). It was impossible to imagine either Nate or Brad releasing their tight hold on their thoughts and verbalizing them, even under the blanket of night, even in the safety of Oceanside.

Nate blinked. He realized with a jolt where his thoughts were taking him. He drank from his canteen and shook it off.

He was glad Brad was his TL.

400.

“We're 30 klicks west-northwest of Basra, and 30 klicks south of Al-Kurna.” Nate gazed north over the marshy lowlands.

Brad was at his shoulder on the low berm. Nate had no doubt Brad had their map coordinates committed to memory. He had a natural eye for that kind of thing. An admirable skill.

Nate continued with his voice hardly over a whisper. The history of this place deserved that gesture of respect.

“Al-Kurna sits at the confluence of the Tigris and the Euphrates. It's the cradle of civilization. Sumer, Assyria, Babylonia. All of them right here.”

The reeds moved in the low breeze. Christeson was tapping out a beat on a fuel can while Stafford and Garza took turns sing-rapping verses of hip-hop songs Nate didn't know the names of.

“How many wars has this place seen over the millennia?” Nate mused.

“And now we perpetrate one more,” Brad observed.

Nate felt Brad's eyes on him momentarily. Or perhaps he imagined it. He didn't look to verify.

“Has Poke been proselytizing within your earshot?” Brad asked. He sounded amused. “He was saying something similar back at Matilda.”

Nate grinned. He hadn’t heard anything from Espera on this topic, but it didn’t surprise him that he would have opinions on the matter.

“Did you know the wheel was likely invented in this area?” Nate asked.

“Humvee tires leaving tread marks in the wake of donkey carts. A noble legacy.”

“Noble.” Nate tried the word in his own mouth. A week ago it would have tasted better.

A few moments spent in the dusk’s dwindling light. The history here weighed heavily on him. They owed this place a debt of gratitude.

“Brad, we just waved them off,” Nate breathed. “Trucks of armed men and we waved them off because they weren't uniformed. The whole of our observations… the trucks, the weapons, their posture. They were irregulars, but they were combatants.”

Now Brad’s gaze was definitely on him. Nate hazarded a look and found Brad studying him.

“Clearly Command hasn't heard your history lesson, sir,” Brad said with a smirk in his voice. “Or they did and were distracted by the Whore of Babylon analysis I assume you included.”

Nate looked down at his feet to obscure his grin. “Al-Kurna has an old jujube tree that is purported to be the Tree of Knowledge from the Garden of Eden.”

“Like I said: whores.”

500 .

“Hey, LT,” Gunny said, rousing Nate from his sleep.

Nate had no idea how long he’d been asleep for. He was lucky to grab an hour of shut eye per day. It wasn’t sustainable, but it was what he got.

It was still dark. The moon was up. That was Nate’s only gauge of the current time. He’d sat down in his victor after the 2100 Zulu briefing with Trombley and the rest of Two One Alpha.

“Sorry to wake ya,” Gunny said softly.

Nate rubbed his hand across his face. “It’s fine.”

“That’s the thing. Not sure everything is fine.”

Nate jolted upright and started opening the door. Adrenaline took its accustomed place in Nate’s veins. “Did the boy not make it to shock-trauma?” Shit.

“Whoa, whoa,” Gunny soothed. “It’s not like that. We don’t have that word.” His face was soft, concerned.

Nate sat back in his seat. The tension hadn’t fully left his body. “What is it?”

Gunny clearly was parsing his words before speaking. He took a few moments to respond. “This is weighing on Brad. I haven’t seen him like this before.”

“Like what?”

“Less than mission ready.”

Nate’s eyebrows went high. “Thanks, Mike.” And he meant it.

Brad was on watch while the rest of his team slept under the cami net nearby. On the perimeter of the airfield tarmac, Nate walked over and stood next to him.

“I thought you were sleeping,” Brad eventually said.

“Your fairy godmother woke me up.”

“Hm.”

He left it at that for a long time. In the far distance, soundless flares of smoky explosions were a constant reminder of where they were. Above them, the night sky was cloudless. The platoon had gone to red lights at sunset for security, but it had the added benefit of making the stars vibrantly visible. The Milky Way angled from horizon to horizon. It was a momentary escape to take it in.

“Mars is up,” Nate said eventually, looking toward the faintly red planet twinkling up there.

“Hm?” Brad said. He appeared to try to follow Nate’s line of sight in the dark without success.

“Here,” Nate said. He moved to stand behind Brad, and he pointed over Brad’s right shoulder so he could sight off of Nate’s arm. “Do you see it?”

Brad’s body radiated warmth in the night air, a fraction of an inch from Nate’s. His cheek was close to Nate’s exposed wrist.

“I’ve got it now. Apt.”

“I thought so too,” Nate said, moving away to stand alongside Brad again.

“If we were living inside your history lecture, would Mars be a harbinger or a boon?” Brad asked.

Nate smiled. “I suppose that’s in the eye of the beholder.”

“Then I say it’s neither. Too superstitious. Can’t deny the poetry of it though.”

Silence surrounded them again. Nate thought it was less heavy than when he’d first joined Brad here.

“These are the moments I hope I remember from here,” Nate said quietly.

“Mm,” Brad concurred.

600.

“Sir,” Pappy asked, “has any thought been given to destroying the weapons and ordnance that are sitting over there?”

Nate nodded. “Actually, that did come up, but it seems the battalion's supply of C-4 is now unaccounted for. The battalion supply truck we left last night? It is a smoldering heap of twisted metal and failed hopes in the trustworthiness of the Iraqis we are striving so hard to liberate.”

Patrick’s left eyebrow rose, and then he shook his head in exasperation.

As Nate and Gunny walked away, he thought he heard Pappy say something to Lovell like, “The LT is starting to talk like Brad.”

“Espera,” Nate called. “Have Two One Bravo start resupplying the platoon from that cache.”

“On it, sir,” was the response.

“Mike, would you enlist Two Three to help on that? I need to make a pit stop.”

On his way to the designated latrine area behind the dilapidated hangar, Nate replayed his words in his mind. A smoldering heap of twisted metal and failed hopes. He had zero trouble imagining them coming out of Brad’s mouth. Maybe Pappy was right and Nate was taking on Brad’s cadence. Or maybe they’d always had this in common.

Nate came to a stop in the shade of the building, his thoughts sapping the momentum of his body.

He wondered suddenly what it would have been like to meet Brad at Dartmouth. It’s strange to imagine Brad anywhere without the sun beating down on him, let alone in the misty north end of the Appalachian Trail. But the idea of him in a rugby shirt or coming in from the cold of the ski slope wasn’t too hard to conjure up. Maybe Nate would’ve passed freshman chemistry if Brad had been in it with him, challenging him and mocking him with puns that included both Arrhenius and Aeschylus.

Or perhaps Nate would have met Brad in California instead. Nate in his early ‘90s Saab and Brad on his motorcycle, both parked at the climbing gym.

It’s fortunate you’re about to ascend this wall, Brad would have said, because the only option your liberal ass has when showing up in that piece of shit, socialist welfare state, pile of scrap, so-called car is to go up and out of the miserable existence you’ve clearly fallen pitifully into. And then he would have complimented Nate’s climbing form and how the harness framed his glutes just right.

“Deep thoughts, sir?” Brad appeared next to him in the Iraqi shade.

Nate had been so deep in his fantasy he hadn’t seen or heard him approach. His cheeks burned like he’d been caught saying all of those things aloud. It was like he’d been interrupted in the middle of a combat jack, the thought of which made him cough awkwardly.

Brad handed him his canteen, and then leaned his shoulder against the wall. He waited until Nate had taken a drink and handed the water back.

“Thank you, sir,” Brad said.

“For what,” Nate asked, a rasp of embarrassment still in his throat.

“Joining me and Mars on watch last night.”

Brad’s blue eyes were intense when Nate met them. Pale brows and lashes. Sun-reddened skin along his nose and cheekbones. The five o’clock shadow that Sixta would ream him out about if it didn’t get taken care of. A flicker of a thought of how it would scratch against Nate’s palm was shoved away before it fully formed in Nate’s mind.

“Did it help?”

Brad held their gaze intently. Nate’s heart thundered in his ears.

Finally, Brad gave a nod. “Very much.”

700.

“Where’s the line between insubordination and trying to manage upward?”

Nate asked the question rhetorically. He knew how the regulations defined insubordination: Willful disregard of a superior officer’s lawful order . Every Marine knew that definition. It was taken out of their hides from day one of boot camp and reminders of it happened every single day. Particularly in theater like they were now, the pecking order was clear.

When Captain Schwetje had invited the enlisted men to share their opinions with him, the only one with the fortitude to say what he was thinking was Doc. He got away with it on the technicality of the Captain asking for candid feedback, and on the fact that every Marine protects and respects their Corpsman, especially one as competent as Tim Bryan. No one else was going to feel safe from being NJP’d for disrespect of a commanding officer. Especially not when Schwetje asked for feedback in front of Griego’s opportunistic eyes.

But no one had asked Nate’s opinion on anything. Nonetheless, he was exerting his will in contradiction to his Captain’s orders again and again. In his core, Nate felt like he was making the best and safest choices for their platoon in their constantly non-ideal situations. But the Corps’ system wasn’t set up for Lieutenants to defy their Commanders. Not even in Recon, with its need to be nimble, where decisions were made on the fly, was flagrant insubordination ignored. Not even when one’s superior was arguably incompetent and the lawfulness of their orders could be questioned. Not even then.

Brad leaned against the front bumper of Nate’s humvee, contemplating Nate’s question. He bumped his shoulder against Nate’s and left it there.

“Fretting is unproductive,” he said reasonably. His directness was what Nate needed. “You can’t unfuck Encino Man, and you’re doing what this company needs you to do.”

“Tell that to Godfather.”

“I will if I have to.”

“No,” Nate said sharply. “This is my situation. I’m not getting the rest of you… I’m not getting you, Brad, mixed up in this. Let me take care of it.” Even broaching this topic with an E-5 was inappropriate, but this was Brad.

Brad exhaled, annoyed. After a thoughtful pause, he told a story.

“When I was a teenager, I took a job with the grounds crew for the county. Mowing lawns, planting flowerbeds, painting municipal buildings. It was mindless, but it paid well in a seventeen year old’s opinion. There was a team of us that worked together. Me and a couple of guys who went to the other high school in town. Our manager was this blustering, self-important guy in his thirties, constantly on a weird power trip. Spent a lot of time reminiscing about being a star football player.”

Brad gave Nate a meaningful look that was readily interpretable as Schwetje.

“At one point, both of the mowers we usually used were down for maintenance at the shop across town. Some guy on the county board had a shitfit about the baseball field’s grass being too long, ruining his runny-nosed brat’s T-ball game. Instead of getting between us and that board member, our manager let all of that stupidity roll down on us. All of us got fired the next day.”

Brad’s body was a long line of support next to him. Nate could hear the moral of the story coming.

“You, sir, are not that guy. You are shielding us from the worst of Command’s inanity. Hitman Three doesn’t have an LT like you, and they’re the worse for it. Every one of us will have your back because we know you have ours.” Brad’s voice crescendoed to the end of his parable.

Nate turned to look at Brad. They were too close, and Nate’s eyes flicked down to Brad’s mouth. It was only for a fraction of a second, but Brad caught the motion. Of course he did. Nate leaned back, turning to look forward again. Safe. Appropriate.

Brad didn’t chase him. How could he here? It was impossible. Nate wouldn’t compound his issues with Command by engaging in conduct unbecoming with his Team Leader.

Brad pressed his knee against Nate’s and left it there.

800.

“New map sheets,” Gunny called out to the team leaders.

Nate was already waiting for them at the hood of his victor. His flashlight was trained on the paper spread across the flat surface, tracing out the route they’d take at dawn.

The men arrayed themselves at Nate’s sides for the briefing. Brad stood furthest from Nate’s position and met his eyes with an intense look. The tiny hairs at the back of Nate’s neck prickled. It was fear, yes, but not fear of Brad. Rather, it was fear of what the look meant for them here.

Nate looked to the map for respite.

“Later today we’re pushing forward to here.” Nate put his index finger on the location on the map. “Goal in the 24 hours after that is to assault through to here.” He extended his middle finger to the second location.

Brad shifted. Nate glanced up. Brad’s focus was entirely on Nate’s hand and the map. His expression was unreadable in the low light.

“Take your copy back to your teams. Make sure your drivers know the route inside and out.”

Pappy, Lovell, and Espera grabbed their copies and headed back to their teams. Gunny went with them, quietly discussing tactics with Pappy as they walked.

Brad, however, lingered.

“Sir, a few questions about the AO,” he said.

His words were cover. Nate knew it. Nate responded in kind.

“Yes, Brad? Your team will be on point, so now’s the time to get any concerns addressed.”

Brad moved around to the front of the humvee, standing close to Nate’s right side.

“Here,” Brad said, pointing at a position near the MSR. “Am I to understand we’re pushing past this town without stopping? There is a school marked on this map, and Fedayeen has been holing up in schools. Should we recon it, sir?”

Nate slowly moved his own hand back to the map, placing his finger a hair’s breadth from Brad’s.

He cleared his throat. “I like your idea, Brad. I’ll run it past Godfather.”

“I have other thoughts I’d like to ask you about.” Brad’s voice was barely above a whisper.

He closed the distance between Nate’s finger and his own. Nate knew the touch was coming. Brad had telegraphed his intent. Still, the electric jolt of it cascaded unexpectedly through Nate’s entire body. He exhaled sharply.

“I’m open to that line of questioning, sure.”

Nate gently squeezed Brad’s index finger between his first and second fingers, scissoring around the length of it. Brad pressed his hips firmly against the front grill of the humvee, body taut.

“Is it our wisest option, sir?”

“Reconning first is always the wisest option.”

Brad’s thumb and forefinger felt the perimeter of Nate’s fingertip. The side of his thumb ran over the smooth flat of Nate’s nail. Nate clicked his red light off, throwing them into full darkness.

“As you say, sir, it’s good to be thorough.”

They stopped short of entwining their hands fully. Even here in the dark, there were constraints. Nate didn’t want constraints. He wanted his hands on more than Brad’s fingers.

Then Brad’s mouth was near Nate’s ear. His breath tickled Nate’s cheek when he said, “I remember when we first met. The showers at Pendleton. That bruise on your hip.”

Nate inhaled. Brad smelled like shaving cream, like he’d just done his daily ablutions. Nate imagined the feel of Brad’s smooth skin against his own, how it would feel against his neck. He was so close to that target as it was.

“It’s gotten me through many a dark night,” Brad rasped.

“Fuck,” Nate breathed. “Brad. I don’t know how to do things by halves.”

Brad chuckled. “I’m counting on that particular trait.”

Frustration lanced through Nate. He couldn’t touch Brad how he wanted. He couldn’t run his platoon how he wanted. He couldn’t trust his commanders like he wanted.

Was this a combat stress response? Shit.

No.

No, it wasn’t just a stress response. There had been seeds of this in Nate’s psyche long before things had gone to shit here in the desert. Brad was right. Since that first meeting, Nate always kept Brad in his line of sight. His situational awareness always included Brad’s position.

“Fuck,” Nate breathed again. He yanked his Sharpie from his vest and uncapped it with his teeth. Shoving up the cuff of Brad’s blouse, he scrawled an N on Brad’s right forearm in the dim light. It was barely recognizable as a letter.

They both knew it was a mark to stake a claim.

“Now you have my marked skin in your mind’s eye, and I have yours,” Nate hissed. “My initial will be there every time you touch your cock from here until the end of this fubar-ed op.”

Brad swallowed thickly. “Aye aye, sir.”

900.

Time expanded to infinity.

Nate could see every tracer like it was taking a Sunday stroll. A bullet ricocheted off Two One Alpha’s victor a mere foot from Nate’s shoulder, and it felt like it crawled past him. Every rivet in the tan armor was visible to him. Every round from Hasser’s Mark-19 put out a tongue of fire that lingered in front of the muzzle, each like a miniature dragon dancing in the moonlight. Strangest of all, the long, slow moments were silent, like Nate was living in a space beyond the speed of sound.

Time compressed into a second.

Faster than Nate could comprehend, an RPG exploded into the berm at his 6, and then another up ahead almost at the humvee wheels. A blinding cloud of dust came up and Nate had no idea if microseconds or minutes had elapsed.

“Back up and over the berm, then hard right. Clear a path,” he had yelled to Two Three.

He had dodged around shrapnel in the road to Two Two and had yelled the same. He knew he must have done it, but the slinky of time expanding and contracting had wiped it from his short-term memory.

It was seconds ago, minutes ago, years ago that Brad’s voice had calmly come over comms: “There are men in the trees.” It had been followed by the snap of his M4 firing, and by the sharp drop of Nate’s stomach. Brad’s vehicle was on point in an ambush.

The comms had awoken with yelled commands. All of them overlapped and became garbled in the firefight. Nate’s rifle was in his hands, against his shoulder, looking down the sight, finger pulling the trigger. The cacophony was profound. Training took over for every single one of Bravo’s men.

Two Two had a man go down. Nate couldn’t wait longer. They had to retreat. He ran into fire and lost time to the adrenaline.

Breathing took too long. Running took too long. He had to get to the vehicles in front and get them turned.

Finally, pressed against the side of Brad’s victor, time normalized. He had no idea how long it would stay this way, so he called out.

“Brad!”

“LT?”

Brad’s M4 paused. Through Reporter’s window, their eyes met. The look was anything but silent, but no words were exchanged. It was beyond language. Simply a feeling that said “ I had to…” or perhaps “Not before we...” or perhaps simply “This is my duty.”

A bullet pinged off the doorframe. The casing spun into Reporter’s lap and he yelped.

Nate awoke from the momentary hypnosis of Brad’s gaze. It had only lasted a millisecond.

“Go! Go! Ray, back and hard right. Go now!”

Nate sprinted after them, chasing the pop pop of Brad’s M4.

Gunny’s face was ashen when Nate returned to his vehicle. “Sir, that was fucking stupid. Thanks for doing it, but don’t do it again.”

Mike was right. It was stupid to run out into live fire. Stupid, but fully and completely necessary. Nate regretted nothing. He knew, though, that he’d crash from this flood of adrenaline eventually. Perhaps an hour from now, maybe two, Nate would feel nauseated or like his muscles were all jelly. He hoped they were through with this push when it happened. He couldn’t afford to be less than 100%. There was no way he was letting these guys down.

With Bravo Three between them and the bridge, Two regrouped.

Brad stepped out of his humvee, back rigid and fingers still tight on his rifle. The muscle in Nate's jaw twitched involuntarily. Overuse. Too much clenching of his teeth. They'd just survived an ambush. Muscle spasms were a victory.

“Why are you bleeding?”

Nate shone his red light at Brad. He clicked it again to make the light white. It was too bright, like a muzzle flash at midnight. He tugged Brad next to the canvas side of the supply truck.

“I’m not–” Brad looked down at his arms and legs, trying to spot evidence of an injury.

Nate pushed him upright and swiped a dusty thumb over Brad’s cheekbone. It came away red.

Brad’s fingers shot up, touching the place and looking at his own reddened fingers in the flashlight beam.

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. Your eye is an inch from there, and I’m not planning on cas-evacing you today,” Nate said, annoyed.

“Doc,” Nate called, snagging the medic as he hurried by. “Hand me some gauze.”

“I’ll handle it, sir,” Doc replied, starting to divert to Brad’s aid.

Nate held out a hand to stop Doc’s change of direction. “Give me the gauze, Tim.”

Doc looked hard at Nate, and then at Brad. Brad’s eyebrows rose as Doc handed over the medical supplies.

“Clean it good, sir. It would be a shame if we had to amputate Colbert’s pretty face.”

“Copy that,” Nate said, setting to work cleaning the blood away from the scratch. He was making a mountain out of a molehill, yes, but this was his best TL.

For the second time tonight, time stood still. Brad let Nate tend to his wound. Nate used the time to forget about how fucked up the last seconds, minutes, hours had been. The feel of Brad’s cheekbone beneath his fingers was calming.

“Game face?” Brad asked when Nate smoothed an unnecessary butterfly bandage over Brad’s cut. “You ready?”

“Let’s go.”

1000.

“From an armchair in Iowa, assaulting that bridge would've seemed foolish. From where we stand on this roadside in Iraq, the lunacy of it will eat away at our confidence until we’re ineffective,” Nate said in a low voice.

Frustration oozed out of him. Saying these things aloud was necessary. He wished there were other lieutenants to vent with. His men shouldn’t have to bear the burden of Nate’s frustrations.

Gunny, Brad, and (surprisingly) Kocher stood in a tight cluster with him.

In his Texan twang, Gunny said simply, “It’s a goat fuck.”

Kocher spoke up. “You’re saying what we all think, sir. You’re just doing it in a measured way. Expressing legit concerns is a helluva lot different than…”

Clearly Kocher was reluctant to invoke Dave’s name in front of Nate. But Nate felt Dave’s unhinged panic hiding in himself too. The deeply buried urge to yell and break things to make it clear to someone, anyone how fucked up things have gotten.

“Look, I’m not here for you guys to blow smoke up my ass,” Nate said. “I’m not fishing for compliments.”

“In that case,” Brad grinned, “are you open to insults?”

Gunny pointed over his shoulder back toward their humvee. “I’ve got a whole list I’ve been making,” he said with a lopsided grin. “First on it is: Knows too goddamn many Dave Matthews songs.”

“Fuck all of you,” Nate chuckled. “And thanks. Have you guys eaten recently?”

“Have you?” Brad retorted. Brad’s righthand fingers tightened and released. Nate imagined his sharpied initial stretching and relaxing as Brad’s forearm muscles flexed.

“Good. Just what I need,” Nate replied with an eyeroll and a grin. “First Mike nags me about everything under the sun. Now you?”

“It’s because we both disrespect and despise you, sir,” Brad said with a wink.

The group broke, going to find their rations. Brad strolled back a few minutes later eating a makeshift peanut butter sandwich.

“What do you suppose Alexander the Great ate while he was conquering vast swaths of this fair country?”

“Figs. Flatbread. Fish,” Nate responded while he rummaged through his MRE. He pulled a bean and rice burrito out of nondescript brown packaging and ate it cold.

“Ah, yes, the Three F’s.”

“I’d be happy for anything fresh with a capital F,” Nate said. His MRE contained a fruit cup that reminded him of elementary school lunches. He hadn’t liked the texture of them then either. Still, the Vitamin C beckoned.

Brad chewed contemplatively. “Tabling the discussion of our presence here as a reflection of America’s imperialistic undertones, it’s interesting to think about how much territory Alexander the Great conquered in a matter of a few years.”

Nate wondered if Brad would be open to a discussion of American imperialism at another time, because Nate had thoughts on the matter.

“I read that priests told him not to enter Babylon that last time. Bad omens. He died there shortly thereafter,” Nate said.

“So, like ol’ Alex, we should’ve listened to our prognosticators? I prefer to think he disregarded their advice because it was superstitious bullshit.”

Nate nodded. “Agreed. Having Aristotle as one’s teacher effectively guarantees becoming a lover of logical thinking.”

Brad tipped some trial mix into Nate’s palm.

“I’ve always been more of a Plato fan,” Brad said. He popped a cashew into his mouth, followed by a raisin.

“What appealed about Plato?”

“ Logos , thymos , eros . Logic, spirit, desire.”

Nate raised his eyebrows in question.

Brad shrugged and ate another nut. “Feels like an Occam’s Razor explanation for the way humans work. Shit gets messy when the three get imbalanced.” He gestured around them to the barely armored humvees. “Case in point. This place is 99% thymos, and 0% logos.”

“And the other 1%?”

Brad looked intensely at Nate and didn’t answer. He tossed the remaining nuts in his mouth, smirked a little, and walked back to his team.

That was the most fulfilling meal Nate had eaten since California.

Later, after dark, Nate called Bravo Two together for a briefing. Schwetje’s message from Godfather had been received by Nate loud and clear: Both of them better get in line before they both got court-martialed. Nate cared more about his men's safety than his own, but he did have some level of self-preservation. And he still believed in the principles of the United States Marine Corps. He'd joined up because he wanted something transformative, something that might kill him, or leave him better and more capable. Nate was getting the message that this included humility.

Nate swallowed his misgivings and toed the line.

“What we did, running and gunning through those towns, was all part of the plan. Of all the Marines in the First Division, the General selected us to be the instrument of long range strategy. We led the feint to Al Kut. We tied down two Iraqi divisions, saved untold numbers of US soldiers. You should be proud.”

As the men parsed Nate's words, several skeptical looks were directed at him.

“Why didn't we go into Al Kut?” Garza asked. He wasn't the only one with the question. He was just the first to ask it

“The General's plan wasn't about taking the city. It was about making the Iraqis think we were going to take it. To be clear, the focus has always been Baghdad.”

“We did all this shit because we took a wrong turn?”

Grumbling was starting up

“Gabe, that's not what I'm saying.”

When he dismissed the meeting, he felt like he'd betrayed them. It was one thing telling Godfather a white lie about exploding espresso makers. It was another thing entirely feeding his platoon a bunch of psy ops.

Brad left with a scowl.

Later still, thymos won over logos when Griego usurped Nate's command and fucked with Two’s men. Nate had never thrown a punch out of anger, and here he was, on the precipice.

Brad's wolfish, hungry smile at Nate as he walked away was much more validating.

1100.

Baghdad was as much of a clusterfuck as anywhere else they’d been.

Entering the city, civilian life looked strangely normal. Produce sellers, tea drinkers, and cigarette smokers just watched as the company drove through their streets, like circus wagons had just rolled into town and Recon was the strange sideshow. A day earlier, Nate would've been apoplectic with so many people so close to their vehicles. Muwaffaqiyah was too fresh in his memory.

They were billetted at a cigarette factory formerly owned by Saddam’s sons. The concrete structure gave a sense of safety, like they’d entered the walls of a fort. Castle towers reached to the sky around them. But Navy sniper rifles cracked every few minutes, a car bomb sent smoke billowing up by the front gate, and One Five was shooting helicopter-deployed missiles into nearby highrises.

The city looked normal at first blush, but SNAFU was a better description. Situation Normal: All Fucked Up.

When night soon fell, Brad circled around to Nate’s vehicle.

“Sir,” he said quietly, tapping Nate’s shoulder to rouse him from the early stages of sleep.

“Am I dreaming?” Nate asked groggily.

Brad huffed. “Of me? Not this time, sir. May I have a word?”

“Sure,” Nate said, opening the door and stepping out. He rolled his shoulders to stretch. “What is it?”

“In private, sir?”

Nate was immediately alert. He searched Brad’s face in the low light. All he could make out were the downturned corners of his mouth. This wasn’t a flirtatious housecall. Brad needed something serious.

“Of course,” Nate replied.

They walked inside the factory, away from where the humvees were parked and away from the sleeping Marines, away from the perimeter surveillance. Nate led Brad into the room he’d briefed the platoon in, up some stairs to what appeared to be a manager’s office. Blinds on the windows and a lock on the door were useful. Nate engaged both and then clicked his flashlight to red mode and put it on the desk.

Harsh shadows turned Brad’s furrowed eyebrows into deep black lines on his forehead.

“I am requesting mast on behalf of Eric Kocher and Daniel Redman,” Brad said formally. His shoulders drew back until his back was perfectly rigid.

“Fuck,” Nate breathed. “OK. Yes.” The ramifications started spooling through his mind.

“I’m sorry for bringing you into this, but I can’t let this go. What’s happening to them is not right.”

Nate rubbed his forehead, squeezing his temples. “It’s fine. We’ll figure it out. We’ll read Gunny in, then take it up to Schwetje as a unified front. It’ll work.”

Nate looked back at him. Brad’s face bore too many expressions to fully interpret. Gratitude, anger, regret.

“Goddamn it,” Brad said, clearly frustrated. Not at Nate, but at the situation they found themselves in. “I did not sign up for the Marines to get wrapped up in politics. How did we get here? Two fucking incompetent COs and an Ops Chief who spends every waking minute stirring the pot. This is Recon. We’re 0321s. Nate,” he exhaled hard, getting himself under control. “Sir, if this will endanger your position, I’ll go directly to Schwetje for mast.”

The thought had indeed crossed Nate’s mind. Putting himself into the middle of this even as a nominally neutral party was a sticky situation. Schwetje would throw all of them under the bus at Griego’s urging just to keep his own head above water. Loyalty among officers felt… like it should be real, even though Nate felt more loyalty to the enlisted men he commanded than he did to the command structure.

“I honestly have no idea how this will play out. Every time I think I know which way the wind is blowing, it switches. It’s like pounding in tent stakes during a shamal.”

They locked eyes then, remembering the dust storm that ripped through Matilda. Their shared memory of Schwetje digging his rucksack and bedroll out of a foot of yellow sand was too amusing to ignore. Both of them snorted, and then laughed, and then were doubled over with guffaws. These were the laughs one has when there is nothing left to do but laugh.

Brad clapped Nate on his shoulder as they gasped for breath.

“I needed that,” Nate said.

Brad nodded. “Me too.” His hand remained on Nate’s shoulder.

Nate wished he could see Brad’s face this close without hiding in the dark. He put his hand on Brad’s arm.

“I don’t know if I can solve Kocher and Redman’s problem, but I’ll try.”

“I know,” Brad said quietly. “You’re the only thing here that I have complete faith in.”

Nate stepped closer. “That’s a tall order, Brad.”

“Not for you it isn’t.” Brad’s breath whispered along his skin.

Fractions of an inch separated their lips. Nate’s fingers curled into Brad’s sleeve. His other hand gripped at the webbing of Brad’s belt at his hip. One of Brad’s fingers had found the skin at Nate’s collar. The feel of his skin on Nate’s made him gasp and push into the touch.

This position was compromising, but it gave plausible deniability. They weren’t so entangled that discovery would mean credible evidence for a DADT discharge. Nate hated that regulations were front of mind now of all times. But he couldn’t deny that the added tension made this feel so much more intense.

Brad panted hot and damp across Nate’s lips. Nate pushed his thumb inside the waistband of Brad’s pants and rubbed circles into the firm flesh he found there.

Their noses bumped together, but never their mouths. The air gap between them heated from their proximity, but they didn’t let themselves advance. It was their Rubicon.

Nate slid his hands around Brad’s body, pressing against Brad’s lower back, feeling the curve descending to his ass. He imagined the flex and push of those muscles if they fucked. He imagined the long expanse of Brad’s pinked, sweat-glistening skin.

Their cheeks slid together. The faintest hint of stubble grabbed on stubble. In the crook of Brad’s neck, he smelled of baby wipes and dust and musk.

Below, in the warehouse, voices rose up. A patrol.

Still they didn’t push apart. They held onto each other more firmly for another heartbeat, and another, and another.

Finally, Brad stepped back. Even in the red light, his cheeks were clearly burning as intensely as his eyes were. He slowly and conspicuously adjusted himself in his pants and hungrily watched Nate do the same.

Nate didn’t know if he could have this – have Brad – but he was sure as hell going to try.

1200.

The human mind’s quest for equilibrium will smooth the edges off threats and thrills alike.

Nate wasn’t an adrenaline junkie. He knew people who skied backcountry trails, free climbed, dove with sharks. He simply joined the Marines, a wholly different type of thrill-seeking. By the time they had Baghdad in their rear views, Nate’s body and mind were strung out on too much adrenaline for far too long. The edges had been smoothed off everything. He felt thin and papery and beyond ready to be done with the frustrations of this place.

He was glad to have his feet back on Californian soil. The safety of home meant some of the excitement of living could outcompete OIF’s ever-present thrill of death via ambush.

He gave himself a week before he knocked on Brad’s apartment door.

Brad was barefoot and in board shorts. His left hand curled over the top of the door and he grinned broadly in welcome.

“I was wondering when you’d come to finish the job.”

Nate smiled. “Finish it? I’m here to get it properly underway.”

“Don’t let me interfere with a well-conceived plan.” He stood aside and gestured Nate inside.

Nate could feel Brad’s eyes on his ass as he toed off his sandals and walked into the kitchen, depositing a grocery bag on the counter.

“You did a supply run? Let me guess: no adult diapers or baby wipes this time.”

“Very astute assumption.” Nate began pulling every vet’s luxury – fresh fruit – out of the bag. “I brought the F’s.”

“Nutrition is of utmost importance for stamina.” Brad pulled two beers from the refrigerator and handed Nate one.

Talking would be required at some point. Nate wasn’t going to re-up (which he hadn’t revealed to anyone yet), but Brad was a career Marine and Don’t Ask Don’t Tell would be a part of his professional life for the foreseeable future. Nate didn’t know if Brad wanted a one-night stand or a quiet relationship. Either way, the conversation would happen later.

Nate took a long drink of beer. Brad watched him, and Nate watched him right back.

“Shower?” Nate asked, by way of starting the proceedings.

Brad reached out slowly for Nate’s hand. This was something they’d skirted. A touch like this would bind them to each other. Clearly he was giving Nate time to divert if it was still off the table. The opportunity for an out was appreciated, but Nate was here for a reason. No flinching at this point. Brad’s fingers hooked around Nate’s and tugged.

“This way,” Brad said.

In the last week, Nate had spent hours in his own bath. The dirt of war needed time to fully wash away. Perhaps that’s why he suggested this as their first encounter. It would feel like a luxury, and it might feel like a clean start, free of all the shit that made their time in Iraq hard.

Brad pulled his shirt over his head in a smooth motion, abandoning it on the bathroom counter. He reached into the shower to turn on the water, letting it warm. The glass of their beer bottles clinked when Brad took both and placed them on the high windowsill inside the shower.

As he did, Nate began unbuttoning his shirt. Some day, Nate hoped, he’d undress for Brad and it would be an intentionally slow tease. Now Nate’s pace was slow simply because it felt good to be unhurried.

Brad’s keen eyes drank in the motion of Nate’s fingers. As the collar spread wide and Nate’s clavicles were visible, Brad’s eyes traced their lines and the healed jump pin scar there. As the placket fell open, Brad’s pupils widened as he took in Nate’s chest and the hair that descended below his beltline. Nate continued downward to the button of his shorts, and to the zipper.

Brad cleared his throat when Nate thumbed his fly wide. “Commando. Very efficient and somewhat presumptuous.”

Nate pushed his clothes to the floor and stood before Brad in the steam. Both of them had dropped weight in Iraq. Their cheekbones stood out more sharply. The hint of ribs framed their chests.

He stepped closer to Brad. Like in Baghdad, their lips were a breath apart. Now, however, Nate could read every expression in Brad’s eyes in the daylight. The blue of his irises was a thin ring. His lashes fluttered when Nate slowly laid his hands on Brad’s hips. Without the bulk of Brad’s uniform in the way, Nate felt greedy. He took his time, moving his hands at an achingly slow pace just to feel Brad’s exhale stutter. When Nate found the drawstring of Brad’s shorts, they both had begun to harden.

The instant his shorts hit the tiles, Brad surged forward. He crossed their point of no return with enthusiasm and purpose. The kiss was crushing and desperate. Brad looped a strong arm around Nate’s waist and walked them backward into the shower spray. Heat and moisture surrounded them, drenched them in a way that couldn’t hold a candle to the way they kissed. Physical. Claiming. Seeking and finding.

Brad’s palms flattened against the wall beside Nate’s head, caging him in. Forehead to forehead they panted.

“I want…” Brad began and then paused. He changed his inflection and repeated himself with finality. “I want.”

Skin was slick beneath the running water. Nate used it to his advantage. He explored the curve of Brad’s biceps and the gentle roll of his abdominal muscles. The N he’d heatedly scrawled on Brad’s forearm was only a memory now. Nate nipped at the skin there, and followed it with his tongue. In return, Brad sucked the lobe of Nate’s ear between his teeth. He slid his thumb across Nate’s erect nipple. He found the round of Nate’s ass and groaned as he squeezed.

The sound of Brad undone was something Nate was sure he’d never tire of. He wanted to learn every iteration of it starting now.

He took handfuls of Brad’s hips and pushed their pelvises together. Their cocks slid and bumped and caught on each other as they thrust. Nate inhaled every one of Brad’s gasps. He bit and took and gave and gave and gave everything to this man in his hold.

Brad tensed in his arms and came with Nate’s name a whisper against his lips. Nate gasped and followed Brad into that ecstasy.

Later, in the bright daylight of the California evening, they lay together in the clean sheets of Brad’s overly soft bed and shared a very fresh, very juicy, very crisp apple. Nate studied the curl of pale hair on Brad’s chest. He made note of how the ink of Brad’s tattoo crept around the left side of his waist. He scratched his fingers through Brad’s short hair and watched Brad’s eyes drift closed at the sensation.

Eventually, Brad joked, “This is some Tree of Knowledge shit.”

Nate laughed, “Which of us is the Whore of Babylon in this relationship?”

“Hard to say, but you do have those very fuckable lips.”

“Well, Brad, you do have a point there,” replied Nate, licking those very lips and sliding down the bed to respond to Brad’s challenge.

[prettypaprika]

Fic Rec - Generation Kill (Brad/Nate)

One of my favorite tropes for Brad/Nate is getting together while Nate is in grad school after leaving the Marines. And this is one of my absolute favorite of those.

After That by Kaneko is just this perfect glimpse at Nate mid-way through adjusting back to civilian life while in school and all the things that he's trying hard not to think about. Including with respect to Brad.

I love that we get to see the two of them at a specific moment in time but I'm able to see how things will look further down the road. It's not a long fic, but it packs an emotional punch.

[thesabrinatheteenagewitchblog]

Sabrina and Harvey agree to get married... Someday, in this Sabrina The Teenage Witch Season 4 Episode 17 (92 overall) "Salem's Daughter" (March 3rd, 2000)!

[ferally-ships]

I miss you and my gay ships xD

I'm here. I'm alive. I see the notifications in my emails. I'm just... feeling alienated and having these 'out of body' experiences with fandoms so I don't really go on Tumblr much. It's weird. I don't know. But I'm feeling the GK itch. November is coming around. Which is my GK comfort month so... I'm hoping it'll kickstart some writing if life doesn't get too hectic.

[hitman-two]

The Jalapeno and Cheesy tears

Nate's in tears. Brad is laughing. Even stateside, those Jalapeno and Cheese sandwiches are a goddamn curse.

Translation: ‘Alapeno Sheezh Sannizh = Jalapeno Cheese Sandwich

Brad was waiting in the waiting room, leg bouncing in anticipation of waiting for Nate to be given the all clear and that Brad could go home. It was supposed to be a 45 minute appointment but it had already gone 10 minutes over the scheduled time, which had Brad worried that complications arose. “Brad Colbert?” The voice pulled Brad out of his worried thoughts as blue eyes snapped to the medical personnel addressing him. He offered no verbal acknowledgement but stood up the moment his name was called. “What’s the Sit-Rep?” The look of confusion the man of medicine gave Brad had Brad reword his phrase in civilian terms, “What’s the report on the LT? Were there complications? You were ten minutes over the scheduled time.” It wasn’t an accusation, just an observation with questionable tones at the lack of communication.

The man of medicine was well aware he was dealing with military men so he didn’t mind that he was being timed to the second. He brushed it off but focused on the important question as he lead Brad through to collect Nate. “No complications. Extraction can sometimes be a little … tricky. Soft foods for the next few days. Do not let him drink through a straw. I know it seems like the easiest option right now but if the hole doesn’t clot, he’s in for a world of pain. Salt water swirl but don’t spit… just let the water fall out of his mouth…” Brad listened intently to the Doctor, all of which he knew having googled about oral aftercare while waiting. “Now, he’s still quite groggy and high on painkillers. That will wear off in a few hours. Here’s the prescription for some pain killers to get him through the next few days. Any complications or questions, please feel free to ring us. Okay?” “Okay, thank you, Doc.” Ice cold blue eyes softened the minute they saw a slightly puffy cheeked Lieutenant who looked far more vulnerable than Brad has ever seen him. Those green eyes latched onto his blue ones and burst into tears. “I couldn’t find you a ‘alapeno and sheezh sannizh” the sad mumble of his Lieutenant and boyfriend greeted him. Brad smiled softly, forcing himself not to laugh. “I think I can forgive you for not finding a Jalapeno and Cheese sandwhich.” As Brad reached Nate, he gently wiped away those tears, well aware those deep forest green eyes were watching his every move out of amusement and curiosity. Brad held out his hand to help him out of the dentist chair, “Let’s get you home, sir.” Nate quietly let Brad lead him to the reception area where they both sat with reception to sign the paperwork and pay the fees. Everything was going smoothly until Nate’s voice interrupted the process, “You’re very tall. And handsome.” Poor Brad. As much as he loved the compliment deep down, he couldn’t help feel his cheeks heat up. Blue eyes flicked to the reception momentarily in an unspoken apology but the Receptionist was smiling, enjoying the soft interaction Nate’s eyes solely stayed on Brad as though he were the only thing in the room. Brad had a hard time focusing on processing the paperwork because even in Nate’s morphine-high state, he still managed to fluster Brad. Goddammit. Paperwork and fees finally processed through, Brad stood up and helped Nate up, bid the Receptionist farewell and held the door open for Nate. The last thing he heard from inside the building was the Receptionist laughing as Nate stopped in the door way and looked up at Brad. “How about we fin’e you a ‘Alapen Sheezh Sannizh an’ then you take me to bed…?” Brad had to gently nudge Nate out the door, thanking his lucky stars that Ray wasn’t here to witness all this. “Sir…with all due respect…but what the fuck?” He half expected Nate to argue back but Nate was already distracted with the cuff of the jumper he was wearing. It was going to be a long few hours until Nate shuts those pretty eyes of his.

Authors Note: It's super rushed. I do plan to edit properly and add more to the story. But for now, enjoy the cute lil idea that's been rolling in my head, rent-free, making me giggle a little. I just haven't had time to properly write but if I got a soft lil giggle out of it, I hope my other HBO shippers do too!

[equallyshaw]

nova scotia princess | nico Hischier

nico hischier x oc marchand

warnings: swearing, mostly fluff and some sweet moments between her and her siblings.

word count: 4.3k

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

marie celine marchand had been in new york for the past year, much to brad's dismay. he hadn't seen her since christmas, and was shocked to see her at his doorstep up north. it was now july during the off season, and marie had decided to head on up to nova scotia, for her birthday no less.

◦

the youngest of the five, she could not have been more different from the rest. she never engaged in hockey (i know! a sin!) never took any inkling towards skating or snow sports, but instead towards soccer, her first love. she was enamored with it and it took her to faraway places with team canada and for her college years at the university of stanford. she had a very hard time leaving california but knew it was best to start fresh, and it just so happened that she loved new york. at the time, it was only a 40 minute drive to her long time childhood friend, ryan graves before he was traded to the pittsburgh penguins. the day he was traded, he gave her a phone call and she was completely gutted. yet she understood the business side of the league, though brad had gotten the better part of it his entire career. after he was traded, she hadn't thought about the new jersey devils as the season rolled around. she no longer had something tying her to them, so she moved on and supported her friend's ryan and sidney on the pens from afar. it wasn't until she found her self in upper manhattan meeting up with some girls from work at a little known and upscale restaurant, that she had saw some of the people she'd grown close to over ryan's stint with the team. she walked past them towards her table, most certainly garnering some looks once they heard the familiar name of marie celine from the group of girls. she got a text from a few of them night, restarting the snapchat groupchat she had had with some of the younglings. most notably, hughes', nico and dawson. she rolled her eyes as messages flowed in that evening as the girls took some wine back to the girl's apartment.

that evening all of the caught up with one another, and then she received a text from nico askin if they wanted to get some coffee for old times sake. what did she have to lose? and so it began than, secret dates and then group dates with the team, spending weekends at a time with nico at his place getting up to whatever came about. throughout all of it, she kept it a secret from everybody besides her older sister rebecca; nobody needed to know. at least not yet.

◦

marie walked up to the front door of brad's lake house and she mentally prepared herself for the all the pestering and bombarding that would happen once she'd set a foot in the house. she pulled out the key he had given her the year he finished building it, and she quickly made work with the lock and pushed open the tall door. "brad! im home!!" she called out, smirking to herself as she heard dogs running towards her and footsteps. she looked up to see brad with wide eyes and then his famous smile. she took her hand off of her small suitcase, and met him halfway for a hug. "who's here?" "who's that?" "if its jr im gonna cry" and that made marine giggle, already knowing it was ryan. "you good?" brad questioned pulling away just a bit and she nodded, "yep! are you? you forgot to invite me for my birthday!" she said faking a pout. "kat!" he called for his wife and marie slapped his arm, "don't go blaming it on your wife you hooligan!" marie said as katrina walked in and she squeled. "i thought you were going to sw-" and then katrina cut herself off. brad looked at his wife then to marie and then they were both gone and off towards the kitchen. "we have a surprise guest!" katrina called out towards the open back door and a group of heads turned towards her. she saw her siblings, ryan, sid, nate, patrice b, pasta, their partners, a few childhood friends of the siblings and a few aunts/uncles. "damn got the whole fam i see..." she whispered to kat who giggled. "uh yeah you could say that." she said looking down at the girl as some of the guys came to say hi. "hi guys." she said looking at some of the nova scotia greats as ryan rested his arm on the brunettes head. she looked up giving him a playful dirty glare, "ah hem." she said garnering a few laughs. "well if you'll excuse me-" she paused pushing ryan's arm off of her head, "ill be down soon, i need to do a few things." she said smiling at everybody before she was off towards a guest room that was designated hers.

she sat down on the edge of the bed as she put her head in her hands, cursing the world. her phone buzzing like no tomorrow with texts from nico, the hughes brothers and dawson. she had been dodging their texts and calls after (what she thought) was nico cheating on her. they were on facetime a week ago and she could have sworn she heard somebody in the background as she heard a muffled voice and nico look in front of him one night. so when she didn't show up to the airport in switzerland the day before, nico was freaking out. which in turn freaked the other boys out. she heard a soft knock on her door, and she looked up to see ryan. she sniffled, wiping her tears as he stepped in and shut the door behind him.

she broke down even more, and ryan quickly sat down beside her and wrapped his arms around her. he had no idea why his best friend was hurting, yet he kept quiet until her sobs became softer. "mc....whats going on?" he asked as he pulled back just a bit to look at her, her cheeks stained with redness and moisture. she sniffled, "he-he's cheating on me." she said and ryan knew exactly who she as referring to, besides her sister she ofcourse told him. they were two peas in a pod, through thick and thin. ryan sighed, growing heated with anger. "and they wont stop texting me...they are worried as to why i didn't make it to switzerland but i don't wanna talk to them." she said pushing her head into his chest. ryan kissed her head, trying to calm himself. she needed her best friend, he'd take care of nico later.

◦

the next morning ryan left the marchand house early to get some coffee for him and marie. the two hadn't left her room all day. she was too much in state of disbelief, shock, and grief as she explained to nico what had happened. as soon as he was turning onto the main strip her called nico up, ready to tear him a new one. nico picked up on the fourth ring unsure as to why he was calling, "wanna fucking explain to me hischier why the fuck you cheated on the very best thing that has ever happened to you and our universe huh? why you decided to hurt the very brightest light? you are so in for it hischier, you have no idea. you have a whole league about to give you hell." ryan spat breathing rapidly. nico was at a loss for words over in switzerland. "what?" he croaked in confusion and exhaustion. since marie hadn't been responding to anybody's calls or messages, he hadn't slept. too sick with fear and anxiety. "she caught you with a girl nico, on facetime. are you seriously that daft?" ryan growled. nico thought back to their last facetime and he went through the events of it. he'd been sitting up in bed shirtless, around 11:30 his time, he was just about to go to bed after finishing his sleep tea and he then realized. she had heard his sister in the background, as she had come to visit him and the two had just gotten done playing a round of Mario kart. "christ- didn't cheat. promise." he said standing up now and looking at flights to new york. "who was it then nico?" ryan questioned, "my sister. can get flight to new york today." he said and ryan chuckled, "yeah no she ain't there." ryan said turning into the drive through, " if you're gonna make things right, you gotta come to scotia." ryan stated.

_

ryan walked back into the house with his, brad's, kat's and marie's coffee with a few breakfast sandwiches. "wanna tell me why marie is crying on the dock?" sidney said as soon as ryan walked into the kitchen. "wait what?" ryan asked setting everything down before looking towards the dock, and now seeing nate making his way down it. ryan sighed, "misunderstanding." he simply stated taking the coffees out of the tray. "misunderstanding, huh? is that why you two were locked in her room all evening?" sidney asked sipping his hot coffee. ryan sighed again, "she thought her boy-boyfriend cheated on her." was all ryan stated sipping some coffee. "boyfriend?" sidney questioned, eyes going wide. "does brad know?" he questioned, and ryan scoffed. "like he need to know every little thing in her life." and sidney wouldn't buy it. "no no, you have to tell him! or at least get her too." sidney said with authority, and ryan rolled his eyes. "sid, she doesn't want him to know at least not yet." ryan said watching nate and marie interact. nate had his arm around the brunette, as she sobbed into his shoulder. "you know we all look at her like a sister, please do the right thing. we only want the best for her and that only happens if brad knows, and you know that." sidney said before taking his cup of coffee and heading out to nate and marie. ryan groaned as kat walked in with the young kiddos. "ou! mommy juice, thankyou ry." kat said thanking the defenceman. she saw the look in his eyes, and then she look towards the crowded dock. "oh no." kat said, "oh no? whats up?" brad said walking in rubbing his eye. he paused as he saw the three of them outside, huddled together, "whats going on?" brad asked now walking in front of ryan. "uh-" "spit it out graves." brad demanded and ryan hummed. "she thought her- her boyfriend cheated on her. but it was a misunderstanding." he stated and brad was angry. "boyfriend?! what do you mean misunderstanding graves? spill it!" he said as kat took the kids outside. "she thought her boyfriend of 10 months cheated on her but it was only his sister that she heard. i just got off the phone with the dude so its been all cleared away, i just hadn't had the chance to tell her." and then he said softer, "and tell you he's coming here." ryan said not meeting his best friends eye sight. "here? are you mad ryan! who is this so i can knock some sense into him?" brad demanded and ryan was in for it. he was cornered, there was no getting out of this. "i cant say brad, only marie can." ryan said defeatedly and brad rolled his eyes. "so you're saying that you really arent her boyfriend?" and ryan now met his eye sight in shock. "you're telling me that you two haven't been together at least at some point?" he said and ryan laughed. "oh god no, shes my sister brad. you know she hates me half the time, for good reasons but no. i couldn't ever go down that path and there has never been a moment ever for me to. ew gross." ryan said and brad sighed. "always thought it was you two against the world... man i gotta pay up." he said amusedly. "pay up?" ryan said cocking an eyebrow. "a long running bet with patrice." and now it was ryans turn to laugh. the nova scotia princess was never his and would never be.

_

on the dock, marie thanked nate for listening to her ramble and cry into his shoulder before sidney sat down. nate rubbed her upper back, trying to comfort the girl. sidney sat down and offered her some kind words, and she thanked him. "i just don't know what was not good enough for him? what did i do wrong?" she said looking off into the clear lake. sid and nate looked at one another, silently trying to get the other speak up. "nothing sunshine, nothing. its all him." sid said trying to reassure the young girl he'd seen as a little sister since the day she was born. him and brad had been in practice together when they got the call from brad's dad, urging the boys to head down to the hospital with sid's dad. the moment he had seen the young girl was how he felt when his sister was born, he'd protect and be there for her through everything. "how about a boat day?" nate offered up and marie smiled. she could never and would never pass up a boat day.

◦

it was around 10:30 pm and the original group that had been there when she'd shown up was back at the house, with all the kids passed out as they sat around talking, drinking and now making smores. ryan had been looking a this phone for the past two hours waiting to heard from nico, but nothing had come in since he had landed and was about to go through customs. marie had been having a great evening, her favorite people all in one place once again. celebrating her birthday that evening, and now talking like old times. ryan and marie sat with one another, cuddling up to stay warm now that a chill had set in. "dude, put your phone down for the princess' birthday." brad said annoyed that ryan and been on his phone for the better half of two hours. marie glared at brad, "its alright brad. no harm done." she sighed. she had a love hate relationship with the nickname, but most importantly when it was said out loud by brad. it made her cringe somewhat. "hows new york, mc?" nate asked and marie smiled then frowned softly before her smile reappeared. "its going great! work is going well and stuff. i even joined a soccer league for fun, it'll start up in august." she said swirling her drink. "we'll have to catch a game before we head to training camp." sid offered and the others agreed. she smiled softly, before ryan untangled himself from her after he got a text message. nico had arrived. brad eyed ryan as he got up and walked into the house. kat smiled softly knowing what was going to happen and nudged brad in the side a bit. "its fine, let them be." kat whispered and brad rolled his eyes.

marie shut her eyes softly, just basking in this moment, this evening and few days she had taken off of work to be here. it had been far too long since the last time she'd been home, always using her summers to train in san diego before returning to school. she hadn't been home in 6 years and promised herself that she'd make it up here more, now that she lived in new york. "oh princess!" she heard ryan call from the house and she sighed, standing up and throwing the blanket onto the seat before heading inside. "yes grumpy prince?" she asked giggling before she froze, seeing nico. he had a hopeful yet loving gaze on his face as she looked at him with tears beginning to form. what was he doing here? she turned towards ryan who had begun to make his way out, and she pulled him back inside as he was already through the threshold. "wanna tell me why he's here ryan?!" she asked upset. "ask him-" and she cut him off, "no, you tell me!" she screamed now alerting some of the guys outside. nico stood on the other side of the kitchen, with a defeated look on his face with guilt and regret spreading throughout his body. "he cheated on me and you're going to invite him here, ryan? tell me why that was a good idea, huh?" she pestered as brad walked in. "no fucking way." he muttered staring down nico, and nico took a step back. "answer me!" she yelled at ryan who held his hands up in innocence. "marie-" she cut off her brother, "you knew?!" she said stepping back away from the two. "let him explain himself." ryan said as she looked at the two people she thought she could trust in this world. thankfully, so far nate and sid hadn't given her any reason to distrust them. "let him explain, please. if you still don't believe him or want him gone- ill-we'll get rid of him." brad said pleading to his baby sister and she sighed, arms crossing over her chest. she turned slowly towards nico who had a pleading look, and her heart twinged just a bit. "fine." she said and the two smiled widely, backing out into the back and brad shut the doors.

"follow me." she said walking past him and they began their dissent up the stairs. she opened the door and let him walk past her into the room, and she shut it behind them. she then went to the window and shut the blinds, but not before flipping the group off. she heard groans and a few 'fuck' as they all wanted to hear and see the drama unfold. "i didn't cheat, schatzi. i promise." he began and she shook her head, "alright bud." she said rubbing her eyes. "i didn't baby, you have to believe me." he began again and she shook her head again. "who was it, huh? somebody like your ex? was it somebody better than me? what did i do wrong, ni. what did i do to hurt you?" she questioned through a strained voice. nico shook his head, "you've never hurt me, you've never done a thing wrong. promise. the girl-"he chuckled pulling her hands into his, inching closer to her. "the girl was my sister, nina." he said a bit amused now. his eyes crinkled as he smiled, his dimples on full display as he looked into the eyes of the girl, he loved. "wait what?" marie asked in disbelief. "your sister?" she asked and he nodded. she looked down and nico quickly diffused her guilt, "schatzi its ok, i promise!" he said pulling her chin up to look at him. she shook her head, "i - i mis read things and i feel like an idiot." she hummed tearing her chin away. "misunderstanding." he hummed and she frowned. "im sorry." she said with tears beginning to form, "im an idiot. oh my god." she said and he pulled her info a hug. he kissed her head, rubbing her back softly. "im a fool, im a utter fool how could i be so daft?" she rambled in french and nico chuckled, "you two have thing for the word daft?" and marie cursed the universe for him knowing french. "wait, two? who?" she questioned pulling back to look up at him. "nico yelled at me yesterday." he said laughing now and marie had a concerned look on her face, "how bad?" and that made nico laugh even louder. whenever she needed back up, he was there to give it. she looked up at nico as his laughs subsided and she stood on her tip toes to kiss him. he pulled her in closer, leaning down a bit so her feet could be flat. they pulled apart, resting their foreheads on each others. "so, how much trouble am i with the guys outside?" he questioned softly and now it was her turn to laugh.

◦

it was the next morning now and marie woke up to an empty bed, groaning before getting out of bed. she made her way over to the blinds and opened the blinds to see kat, patrices and david's girlfriend, and the kids on the patio eating breakfast while all the guys are missing. she squinted over towards the lake and she did a double take before seeing her brother's boat. it was a crowded boat, with all of them sitting facing one another. she spotted nico and prayed that the guys weren't going too hard on him. after the two spoke last night, they made there way downstairs for a bit before nico was on the verge of passing out due to the time difference. she quickly changed into a white t-shirt and linen pants, before heading down he stairs. "ti!" she heard rue screamed as she walked outside, and quickly made her way over towards the older girl. she wrapped her arms around the girl's legs before rue pulled her up for a hug. "good morning my girl." she said speaking in french as the two shared a small moment in the morning sun. "hows my favorite god daughter?" she hummed and kat laughed, "your only god daughter." she mused. marie giggled, "that's why she's my favorite." she said setting her back down in her height chair, and sat down on the bench with noah , patrice's son. "ouu cinnamon rolls!" the girl overly gushed, garnering some giggles from the kids. "ever the oldest child." kat teased and marie winked, "i take my role very seriously." she hummed.

the boat was on its way back now after a very stern talk with nico, unfortunately. basically threatening his very existence if he were to ever step out of line. the usual. oh, and that there was somebody or two on every team who would not hesitate to teach him a lesson. nico and the guys all got off onto the dock, with ryan running in front to get some cinnamon rolls- steal is more like it. "hey! that's for us." marie said swatting his hand away as he came up behind her, "i swear to god grumps, im gonna cut off your hand." she said quirking an eyebrow between the two's showdown. "good morning princess!" brad said placing a kiss on the girl's head before stealing a cinnamon roll himself. "hey, not fair!" ryan said and marie mimicked him, earning a chorus laugh from the kids. "im the one that brought them." brad said shrugging, "no i did." sid said and patrice shook his head, "you brought the original one's, i was told to pick up another dozen." patrice said picking up his youngest, felix. "yall are too much in the morning." she mumbled in french, standing up and walking inside to get some coffee. nico followed her into the kitchen to get a refill on his, to which she happily poured him some. "how bad was it?" she questioned, peering around him quickly and then looked back at him. he shrugged, "theyre just as scary in life as on ice." he said and she giggled. "yeah...they have no filter." she said pushing a strand of hair behind his ear. "tell me about 'nova scotia princess'." and she rolled her eyes, "the fairest of them all." he added with a grin and she growled loudly. "you inconceivable fools!" she yelled out, making her way outside. "im going to kill you all!!!!" she said looking at sid, nate, ryan and brad. she did a fake start towards brad before going after nate, "come here nathaniel!" she screamed running after the man, who was, unfortunately, being outrun by a 5'4 semi-retired defenceman. "somebody help me here!" nate called out and sid began his dissent, but she was too quick and made her way after him. "you are so getting in that water!" she screamed, referring to a tradition the 5 of them had. a surprise morning swim in the cold water. "its cold!" one of the kids screamed and marie laughed. "perfect!" she grinned. ryan tapped nico, "lets get our girl." ryan said nodding towards the brunette and nico smiled. "lets get her." and the two made their way towards the water where she was running after the two. "no!" she screamed as ryan almost grabbed the girl. "don't you dare!" she said jumping a few feet away from him. thankfully with sid and nate being neighbors, she freely began her way towards their places with the group following her. nico was the one closest to and almost grabbed her as well but she took a step to her right and was out of reach, "alright i gotta do it myself!" brad announced jogging over and marie knew it was game over. "not the old man!" she gasped, earning a few chuckles.

it was not brad who got the girl but nico, who was immediately instructed to drop her off the dock and into the lake. she screamed, cried, and kicked but unsuccessfully as she felt water hit her back. as she came up, everybody else decided it would be a great idea to also jump in. she covered her head momentarily before splashing water in all directions, "you! you traitor!" she said with astonishment as nico tried to get closer. ryan dunked her before she could say anything else, and nico laughed with the rest of them. she came back up and pushed ryan, "rude!" "the princess of nova scotia is officially home!" brad said as he made his way towards her, ready to splash her as well.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

hope you all enjoyed!! pls like and reblog if you did!

random tags: @hischiershoe @nicohischierz @cuttergauthier @skatesnstuff @fallinallincurls

[fictionalmenxyn]

Gonna work on a post!!

Do you think you can do something platonic with a female reader and Tyler durdan? And it’s fine if you don’t want to just wanted to ask. Hope you have a great day

Of course I can do this for you!! I’ll get it out asap!

[skitskatdacat63]

pls yell about bradnate to help propagandize @antimonyandthyme thank u

BRADNATE!!!!!!! What couldn't I say about bradnate???? They're probably one of my only eternal otps, like I haven't watched GK in 4 years but I'll think about bradnate and still get a warm and fuzzy feeling in my chest. They have some of the most well written, high quality, meaningful fics I've ever read, like I'm ngl, they've literally affected my life in certain ways 😭

"I'm assured of this" x "Sir, your leadership is the only thing I have absolute confidence in." That mutual trust, and the way they can rely on each other, under such terrible circumstances, it's so!! And the dynamic of Brad, this incredibly independent, almost standoffish, shit-talking guy being able to trust and confide in the younger Nate because he respects and recognizes, the much more straightlaced, academic, Nate's leadership and that he's doing his best and is actually adept, especially compared to most of the higher leadership. They both trust that the other is working at full capacity and doing their best to look out for the other. Their relationship bridges the gap between the enlisted men and the COs, who have trouble trusting and respecting each other, and it's such an efficient, trusting partnership in the midst of the mess that is the invasion of Iraq.

Anyways, LOOK AT THEM GRRRRR

Stark Sands is such a pretty boy it makes me insane, and Alex Skarsgard is so rugged in comparison, and imo subvert who you'd expect to be higher on the leadership totem pole. I love how efficient they both are, they are truly a power couple to me !!! And also as we've talked about, the blueprint of newer ships like ghostsoap. Bradnate walked so ghostsoap could run.....

Athy, please join us in this hell, thank you very much.

[prettypaprika]

Fic Rec - Generation Kill (Brad/Nate)

White Hats by Dira Sudis is one of the many many GenKill fics that I love from Dira Sudis. The conceit of this fusion is that certain people have magical abilities (called curse workers) but that the magical abilities come with a proportionate response to the person working that ability (called blowback). Nate's team works for the government and uses their skills on missions, including one with Reporter.

It's an incredibly interesting concept of how curse working and blowback would apply in an investigative setting. It's an AU of a book series that didn't particularly inspire me and yet this AU fusion (as Dira Sudis has done before) is just...so perfect when applied to Bravo and specifically Brad and Nate. The connection between them is just...so substantial and shown so well.

Everyone's magical abilities fit them so perfectly and I love the subtleties of how the abilities pair with each personality. But really, what I love most about this fic is the deep relationship between Brad and Nate, despite the uncertainty of their future. The multitude of ways that Brad and Nate communicate and show that they care about each other.

I would read so much more in this universe...this little glimpse is already so filling.

[thesabrinatheteenagewitchblog]

4 Sabrina's attend prom, with differing results, in this Sabrina The Teenage Witch Season 4 Episode 21 (96 overall) "The Four Faces of Sabrina" (April 28th, 2000)!

[headmateelevator]

hello again!! may we please have a level two pack (without orientations or front triggers) for this new fragment im trying to flesh out? heres the details it has right now!!

a wolf/dog? the colours blue and grey. fog/mist. water. waves and shorelines. gender is "nothing but with occasional ghosts of fem or masc." seems to like ghosts! and static? and heres bunch of emojis it seems to feel connected to! 🐺🌑💤🔉🐚💧🌊🌫🌧🌥☁️💭🎞📼🔌📺

thank you!! please take as long as you need on this pack!! i love this blog <3 -green anon!!

order up!

name(s) - Canine , Max , Lucy , Daisy , Rocky , Cooper , Canidae , Angus , Callum , Alaska , Terrie , Shepherd , Collie , ace , affen , affie , aidi , airendale , akita , aksaray , Alano , alex , alfie , amarok , amaruq , annie , apollo , archie , arianell , aries , armant , artemis , artois , ash , asher , aurora , badulf , bailey , bandit , barbet , bardou , barkley , basenji , bear , beau , bella , beowulf , biewer , blue , bluey , bolt , boris , boxer , brad , Isaiah , Virgil , Salem , Osiris , Azriel , Theodore , Elias , Oliver , Lukas , Sebastian , Michael , Uriel , Azrael , Abaddon , Castiel , Nathaniel/Nate , Malice , Wolfram , brenard , Boxer , Brittany , Wolf , Gray/Grey , Rex , Forest , Brownie , Kai , Bear , Snow , Snowy , Buddy.

pronouns - they / it / ey / em / er / ers / hy / hyr / hy / hymn / ae / aer / it / that / thing / vae / vaer / se / sim / ny / nym / th-y / th-m / shy / shyr / thy / thym / x / xs / sh* / h*r / shx / hxr / hx / hxm / thxy / thxm / thon / thons / arf / arf / awoo / ba / ball / ba / bark / bark / bite / bo / bone / cae / canine / can / cani / canid / canidae / canin / canine / cha / chase / chew / claw / co / collar / fang / fangs / grey / grim / gro / growl / grr / guard / ho / howl / houn / hound / howl / howl / hunt / lu / lupi / moon / moon / mutt / muz / muzzle / night / paw / protect / ri / rir / ruff / roll / rough / ru/run / ruff/ruff / silv / silver / snarl / star / teeth / walk / wag / wolf / angel / angels / alt / alts / hy / hymns / omen / faith / static / fog / ghoul / spok / ghost / spirit / sea / salt.

gender(s) - neutrois , ANALOGARGIC , ANOMALOTHING , unalimfort , ANALOGENDER , Casiboy , horrorloggender , ☆ » CREEPTHEDRIC , Camtromatos , Monichrine , Horrorslushie , Horrorigender , Horrorfem , Fogforestic , Forestgender , Forestwolfgender , Forestwolfsprintic , Howlgender , Neigean , Nightforfulmoonic , Northwolfic , Noxlibic , Redwoodgender , Sillywolfic , Snowfallgender , Aiaspec , Aingender , Aporagender , Asterfluid , Celestian , Cosmosflux ,

Demineutral , Demineutrois , Eafluid , Galaxian , Gender neutral , Genderflor , Gendersylph , Hydrangeaflux , Nebularian , Neumasc , Snowmoonlic , Snowynightgender , Starforestaesic , Tundrawolfgender , Wolfbitic , Wolfforestic , Wolfgender , Wolfmoonbodiement , Wolfmoonic , Wolforigender , Wolfpawic , Wolfplushigender , Wolfstarmoonic , Wolfthing, Horrormasc , Horrorhoard , Darkhyperfixic , Inhorsycic , Eldhorric , Horrorstorycollectic , Analoghorrorgender , Mascanalog , Femanalog , Analogender , ELDRITCHANALOG , PURIDITIC , altvocaldernic , ALDERNATE , notworthriskquoteic.

role(s) - anchor , sleeper , hygienist , protector , sibling figure.

species - wolf / dog , could be wolf / dog / human hybrid creature if using a humanish face claim or possibly some form of shapeshifter between. ghostkin.

source(s) - brainmade.

emoji(s) - 🐺 , 🌑 , 💤 , 🔉 , 🐚 , 💧 , 🌊 , 🌫 , 🌧 , 🌥 , ☁️ , 💭 , 🎞 , 📼 , 🔌 , 📺.

likes - night walks , taking naps , sleeping , staying clean , swimming , water in general , showers and baths , quiet dark rooms , music , moon themes , analog horror , old movies , the truman show , people x trusts , stretching in the mornings , ghosts , pets.

dislikes - being too hot , having to talk in front of too many people , people vae don't trust , stomachaches , being tired for too long , back pain (especially due to sleeping in the worst possible positions).

personality description - Callum is a rather friendly part , it keeps to themselves oftentimes , but when around someone x trusts arf can be semi-talkative , usually speaking about things such as movies thy recently watched , or old classics they enjoy rewatching often. they also have an interest in analog horror and horror medias in general. teeth often tries to keep to an alright sleep routine , though cani can mess it up easily by taking naps in the middle of the day if star feels like doing so.

faceclaims -

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