#Walt Hasser

[oscartwofoxtrot]

[searchingfortheuniverse]

HBO War + Text Posts Part 2

[staud]

GENERATION KILL Rewatch 1x01 "Get Some" How's it feel, motherfucker? How's it feel to be fucking dead? Bro, it feels sad. I feel very alone.

[caffeinated-fan]

I've been wondering how many people are in the HBO war fandom so I figured I may as well use the poll option! This includes if you just watch it, write, paint/draw, or make gifsets (I love you *attack of a thousand kisses). There is no cutoff or requirement, only that you like/watch the show(s).

Since notes counts everything votes are the best true number option. PLEASE REBLOG FOR MORE DATA, THAT IS LITERALLY THE POINT OF THIS <3<3<3<3

[beinfinite]

Lt. Nate Fick: What are the hardest things to say?

Sgt. Brad Colbert: I was wrong.

Cpl. Walt Hasser: I need help.

Cpl. Ray Person: Worcestershire sauce.

[georgieluz]

walt thigh walt thigh walt thigh walt thigh walt thigh

[inglourious-imagines]

I love your writing so much so I wanted to request number 26 “In a fight, they’re lethal. Around each other, they melt.” for Brad Colbert

“Watch out, Iceman, you might melt.” (Brad Colbert x Female!Reader)

Requested by: anon

Summary: Pretty much the prompt.

Prompt: 26 – In a fight, they’re lethal. Around each other, they melt. (used it, again, as a setting for the one-shot, not as a direct speech; hope that’s okay)

Warnings: swearing, made-up enemy contact that isn’t in the show, (very bad!) description of combat, female pronouns (hope that’s okay, it just fitted the story – if it is a trouble, I deeply apologize and if you want, request a new one with a gender neutral reader please <3)

A/N: I love this man to my bones. Also i might have fucked up the military jargon, so apologies if i did haha. I added GenKill to my taglist, so feel free to add yourself if u feel like it :).

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Brad Colbert isn’t necessarily a complicated person, at least to Ray Person. Having spent many hours together in their precious Humvee, during training, in combat, one person gets to know the other, without even realizing it. Ray Person has realized it, and even though Brad always discards Ray’s observations about his behaviour, personality, or quirks, with a simple “fuck off, you blabbering, coffee-high motherfucker”, Ray knows that most of the time he is right. And he enjoys it. On the other hand, this works both ways – and to Brad’s dislike, he’s started to notice his fellow soldier’s traits, likes and dislikes, how he works more efficiently, and Ray has always been okay with someone knowing him, but with Brad? He’s long had a suspicion that the combat-hardened man is downright terrified of being close to someone to the point of vulnerability.

Bravo Company is still on that airfield they invaded couple of minutes ago in quite a “pretty fucking ninja” way as Brad Colbert put it, when the men of Team 1 of Victor 1 hear the news of Trombley being reassigned to Team 3 into the Victor 5 and they’ll be getting a newbie. Lt. Fick mentions it to the five of the men standing around their Humvee in a quick manner, as other orders are more pressing to the young officer than just the change-up of two soldiers. Plus, he doesn’t particularly feel the need to be anywhere near Brad when the reassignment happens because the man already has a reporter in his vehicle and dealing with another person, even though a soldier, but a new one, someone with whom Brad Colbert is not familiar and does not know their strengths and weaknesses, can be potentially catastrophic (as Ray put it).

Trombley just shakes his head at the news and goes to pack his things; it doesn’t really matter to him from which vehicle he’ll get to kill the Iraqis. War is war and hell is hell and a soldier has to deal with whatever the army throws at him.

They are about to move out, wanting to stay in the open area as little as possible, and Trombley’s seat is still empty.

“Fucking unbelievable,” Brad mutters, while looking out his window. It’s not like the whole Company is waiting for one person, Brad knows other officer stuff must be taken care of still, there are some soldiers running around from Humvee to Humvee, but he’s already pissed off enough and the need to pin the blame on someone is eventually stronger than him.

“Maybe the bad guys killed him on the way here,” Ray says, turning his head to his team leader, his lips formed into a cheeky grin.

Brad shakes his head and glances at his driver. “Glad you’re having fun.”

Ray winks at him. “I can always sing you a country song, honey-boo."

“I swear, Ray, I will–“

“–Shut the fuck up, Colbert.” Ray interrupts him, as he stares at something, or rather someone, outside, to the right of their Humvee.

Brad is ready to pull up rank, but he will never get the chance to do so. He’s cut off by enthusiastic hollering that’s getting louder with each second. He turns his head and then he sees why. The shouting lasts for about ten seconds, although it feels like a lot more, then Godfather puts a stop to it by just a wave of his hand and urges the soldier by his side to hurry up. The soldier meant for Brad’s Humvee.

“I’ll be fucking damned,” Ray is the first to talk and practically drooling, “this might just be the best day of my fucking life. The Marines can do something right after all.”

And then, with surprise, certain admiration, and most definitely attraction (although he doesn’t know that yet), Brad says without even realizing he’s saying something: “You bet your ass, Person, God bless the US Army.”

Ray looks at his team leader, eyes squinting, and then he bursts out laughing. “Watch out, Iceman, you might melt.”

Now Reporter is laughing in the back, as he scribbles down something quickly in his small black notepad, Brad’s face is suddenly cold and unreadable again. Cold and unreadable to a stranger, yes, but Ray Person knows his better than they both know, and the facial expression makes only Ray laugh more.

“Don’t even try that Iceman shit on me, fucker,” the Humvee driver grins, “I can see how much you’re blushing now. Hell, I bet Fick can see your big red face from that distance.”

At this point, the Reporter is leaning from back to front to see, his eyes watering from all the laughter, but it only infuriates Brad more.

“I’ll fucking cut off both of your motherfucking heads and throw-“

“Sargeant Colbert.”

Brad coughs and has to take a millisecond to compose himself before he turns to Godfather himself and the new addition to his Humvee. “Yes, sir?”

“I believe Lt. Fick has already given you the orders from above. I trust you that you, as a team leader, will take care of your new soldier. This is Corporal Y/L/N.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

Godfather nods in approval, clearly satisfied with Brad’s answer with no signs of protest or sarcasm.

Ray giggles behind the steering wheel and as Corporal is getting into the vehicle, he leans to Brad and whispers into his ear quickly before he can smack him away, “You’re gonna take care of her alright.”

***

“You got everything back there?” Brad asks for about the fourth time in ten minutes, his head turned slightly to his left in an attempt to steal a glance at her, his lips formed into a soft smile.

She laughs, but doesn’t tear her gaze away from her sector, the need to prove herself to these men stronger than anything, “Nothing has changed from that one minute ago when you asked me the last time, sir.”

She calls him sir and Brad just knows that if some Iraqi won’t kill him, this will. He envies Reporter the spot in the back next to her, he is fully aware that Reporter is also writing it all down in his little notebook and that Ray is closely watching his every move, but for the first time he doesn’t really care. And that terrifies him.

“I told you to just call me Brad,” he tries to convince her.

“I’m afraid that is not possible, Sargeant,” she replies, and he needs to take deep breath to live it down.

It takes everything in Ray’s power not to burst out laughing because this kind of behaviour in his team leader he has never seen during the entire time they have known each other. The blush hasn’t really left Brad’s cheeks and from what he sees, the attentiveness is only flattering to their beautiful new addition.

Ray leans to Brad once more with a cheeky remark, “Keep it in your pants and hold your sector, sir, or you’re gonna get us killed.”

“All Victors, this is Hitman Two Actual, from now on we’re supposed to treat this territory as hostile. I repeat, as hostile.”

As if there was a switch, the giggling stops and the soldiers straighten up, adjusting their rifles to a better position. The atmosphere in the Humvee has changed in a matter of seconds, from light to combat-hardened. It takes Reporter several more moments and turns of head from Y/N to Brad to wrap his head around the situation. But it is really the first fired shots that wake him up from the confused limbo, his whole body instinctively jerking down a bit.

“I got muzzle flashes,” she says, and Reporter is surprised how different her voice now sounds, “my ten o’clock. Permission to engage.”

“We have orders,” Brad responds immediately, “light ‘em the fuck up.”

Reporter watches her closely, as she takes a deep breath, aims at her target, then there are more enemy shots fired at them and he jerks back again but she doesn’t even flinch and right after the enemy fires, she presses the trigger. Then again, and again, and again.

They keep moving and from the spot Y/N discovered there is no more incoming enemy fire and Reporter realizes that she took them down with frightening precision in one take. He wants to say some words of praise immediately, but he’s cut off again, not by bullets this time but by words.

“Hitman Two Actual, this is Hitman Two One, we have two big trucks heading directly our way, approximately 500 meters on our 12 o’clock. Permission to stop the convoy,” Brad strictly says.

“Hitman Two one, interrogative."

Reporter jerks his head to see what Brad Colbert is talking about and there they were, moving too fast to Reporter’s liking. He feels like his heartbeat must be heart through the entire vehicle and even on the comms.

They keep on going, the white trucks keep on going, directly against each other, Reporter watches it all, but keeps quiet but he’s pretty sure he couldn’t form a sensible sentence even if he tried. Those few second it takes Lt. Fick to answer are the longest seconds Reporter has yet experienced.

“Hitman Two One, permission granted. First warning shots, then light ‘em up if need be.”

“Yes, sir.”

Ray stops the Humvee perpendicularly to the convoy and Y/N and Brad hop out in synchronisation, positioning themselves behind the vehicle next to each other. The trucks are getting closer with each second and despite the growing fear in Reporter’s veins, he gets out of the Humvee too and crouches behind the duo.

Brad fires a warning shot. Nothing happens. Lt. Fick is already behind them but doesn’t say anything to disturb their work.

“Left,” she says and leans against the hood of the vehicle to strengthen her grip on her rifle. Brad nods, although due to the angle she’s not able to see it, and answers, “Right then.”

She fires first, one shot, then Brad Cobert also one shot, but both of the trucks don’t go immediately off the road; Reporter is so fixated on the cars still getting so close to them he’s so surprised when he hears two more shots. This time the trucks overturn and end up on their sides.

For a few seconds there’s absolute silence. Then Iraqis start to get out of the trucks and accurate fire from the Marines lights up the air.

***

When they stop for the night, many men come to her to express their admiration for her shooting skills, and she can’t help it but feel genuinely flattered. Even Lt. Fick comes by to say, “Good work,” and even offers her a small smile. But eventually she decides to go hide in their Humvee from all the attention; they killed people today after all, and the vehicle hugs her in its dark embrace without questions.

“Don’t know if anybody told you this, but what you did today? Pretty fucking ninja. And I reserve this term for special occasions only,” Brad’s voice fills the space around her, and she just has to sincerely laugh at his joke.

“Thanks,” she smiles and gestures for him to get in, and he, without a hint of hesitation or thought, climbs into the Humvee. A stupid grin appears on his face, as if he was a teenage boy climbing into a girl’s room in the middle of the night while her parents were downstairs.

Brad goes on telling her some random funny story about what happened that one time with Ray, and she keeps laughing, and he gets drunk on the sound, wanting more and more, to be drunk forever.

Neither of them knows this, but Reporter goes by the Humvee and hears the quiet talking and occasional laughing and simply has to stop to find out what it is. And then he sees them, and he is both surprised and not. He is not the least surprised because they look so beautiful together, like they have always been destined to be together and share their lifetimes; but he is surprised at the fact that only a few hours ago, during combat, they were two different people, cold, distant, lethal, efficient, and now around one other warm, close, loving.

Reporter stands there for a few more seconds, jotting down some notes about the duo, when Ray appears next to him out of nowhere and says, “You’re not the only one perplexed, but it’s kinda the only possible way how to fucking live in a place and time like this.”

It must have been the smartest thing Reporter has heard him say so far.

[stopstopstopit]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Generation Kill Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Brad Colbert/Ray Person Characters: Ray Person, Brad Colbert, Tony Espera, Walt Hasser, Nate Fick, Rudy Reyes (b. 1971), Assorted Cast Additional Tags: 5 Things, 5+1 Things, 5 Times, Tropes, Pet Names, Lap Sitting, Touching, hand holding, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Requited Unrequited Love, POV Ray, Pining, Disney World & Disneyland, Panic Attacks, Gay Chicken, Anxiety, Hurt/Comfort Summary:

“I don’t know, dawg,” Poke finally starts, drawing out the words like if he waits long enough Ray will cut him off, “it’s just…could you two be any more married?”

  …Before Ray can even show the surprise on his face he’s suggesting, “hell yeah, we could.”

  Or, the squad uses gay chicken as a ploy to get two idiots together.

[hbowardaily]

This is round 2 of the polls. All other polls in this round can be found here.

[nanuk-dain]

GK Fanart

I come bearing gifts. This is just some wee fun I had with Brad and Ray, with a side of Walt. I hope you like it. Let me know? *puppy dog eyes*

[satashiiwrites]

Bradley the Damned, Chapter XIII

posting a bit late this week. I’ve been lo-key job hunting and am now in negotiations for my new job so it’s been sucking up all my free time the last two weeks. Hope to have the next chapter out on tuesday but we’ll see.

Title: Bradley the Damned, Chapter XIII

Fandom: Generation Kill

Pairing: BradNate, RayWalt

Fic summary:

Returning to England upon the death of the only father he’s ever known, Lord Nathaniel Fick has braced himself for a return to a society that he never really has felt a member of. He’d much rather be off on one of his Uncle’s archeological adventures than running the family business.

Luckily, it seems that adventure has followed his Uncle to England.

Chapter summary: Nate finally takes time to check in with his business manager.

Tags/warnings: Alternative Universe. Supernatural elements. Set in Victorian England. Historical Inaccuracies (I tried to research but there’s some hand waving for plot reasons). Immortal!Brad.

Read chapter XIII here on AO3

[staud]

walt/ray – requested by anon | song: open arms by sza ft. travis scott

[lostinthewiind]

Possible GK requests:

Corpsman reader who treats the women they see in villages and goes soft when she sees Doc with kids.

Supply officer reader who always hides lube for Walt’s gun cause she knows it jams more than the others.

Mechanic reader who can fix almost anything and keeps having to replace parts on Rays Humvee cause it’s shaking more than usual or it doesn’t sound quite right. Really he just likes how she looks covered in grease.

Reader everyone calls Mom cause she’s always taking care of them in the little ways, nagging them, giving advice but is bad at taking care of herself until Nate makes her (bonus if we can get a mom and dad are fighting in front of the kids line)

Literally as soon as I read these I got SO MAD that I have to go to work today and can't IMMEDIATELY start writing these!

Anon, you've bestowed upon me a precious gift today. I will NOT squander it. I will write these ASAP.

[deputy-buck]

Release Goddamnit

Gabe and Walt helping each other with their turrets after a firefight, their hands “accidentally” brushing when taking pins out, heads knocking when they both try to look up the chamber at the same time. 

Gabe flicks his eyes back and forth from cleaning the grouping in his hands to where Walt is biting his lip, struggling slightly to pry out the bolt stud, his tongue peaks out past his lips when he winces.

“Release Goddamnit! Fuck!“ Walt swears at the stud loudly, shaking the whole receiver like it’ll help rattle the pin loose.

“Want me to try?“ Garza offers, already setting the rag and backplate grouping down on the tarp they laid out. 

“It’s just fuckin’ stuck, man.“ He grumbles as he hands it over, letting Gabe work at the tiny piece of metal that’s doing its job a little too well. Their fingers overlap around the receiver for a brief moment, making them both smile softly at each other. Gabe shakes his head slightly as he works at how quick Walt can go from grumpy MK-19 operator to a lovesick puppy just from a little physical contact- Click!

[wipbigbang]

This is Round Two of the Artist Claims for the 2023 round of WIPBB. You may claim up to three fics this round. If you want only one fic, please fill out the form once with your top choices. If you want two fics, fill out the form twice with your first choice in the first form submission with one unique ID and the second choice in another submission with a different unique ID.

The synopses are located at https://wipbigbang.dreamwidth.org/172201.html

The form is located at https://forms.gle/ES2D3d2mTG1nU4Pk6.

Round two of the art claims will go on until July 1st.

Generation Kill (TV)

#043

Title: Bradley the Damned

Pairing/Characters: Bradley Colbert/Nathaniel Fick, Ray Person/Walt Hasser

Rating Explicit | E

Warnings/Tags: Graphic Violence, Murder-mystery, supernatural creature/elements

Alternative Universe/History, vaguely set around 1900, incorrect Egyptian archeology/lore, Viking lore.

Summary: Returning to England upon the death of the only father he’s ever known, Lord Nathaniel Fick has braced himself for a return to a society that he never really has felt a member of. He’d much rather be off on one of his Uncle’s archeological adventures than running the family business.

Luckily, it seems that adventure has followed his Uncle to England.

[inglourious-imagines]

Through Trouble and Iraq (Walt Hasser x GN!Corpsman!Reader)

Requested by: @order-of-river-phoenix (hi!! love to see you back, first of all. i’d love to see you write a little something for my boy Walt Hasser with prompt 30, if you could. thank you <3) - anything for you ;))

Prompt: 30 – I was so stupid to make the mistake of falling in love with my best friend.

Summary: You are a Corpsman with the Marines and Walt just seems to go out of his way to find trouble so you could find him. Not that you mind. (Reader is part of Brad’s team and is in the seat instead of Reporter.)

Warnings: some f words, implied sex

A/N: First Gen Kill fic yaaay, so insecure but hope u like it.

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You did not mean to fall in love with Walt Hasser. But like many things, it has slowly crept on you, until one day, when you were laughing your ass off with him somewhere in the middle of the Iraqi dessert and he put his hand on your shoulder like he’s done so many times before, something changed.

You did not mean to fall in love with your best friend. Until you just did.

***

Ever since that little incident you’ve been a little too nervous around Walt and the fact that he’s been running to you with even the most ridiculous (non)injuries, really doesn’t help your cause. Because when he looks up at you with those eyes, with that innocent look of his, you would do anything he asked you to do.

For example, one time you were chatting about possible medical aid to the locals with doc Bryan and your team, more specifically Ray and Walt, was brewing some coffee as Ray more than excitedly announced to every single person, including probably even the Iraqis on the other side of the town. Bryan seemed more at ease that day and you love talking medical stuff with him, when suddenly you heard your name being called. You rolled your eyes, but smiled nonetheless because you would recognize that voice anytime and anywhere.

And when Bryan said: “I believe you got this one.” with a wink, you were blushing like a teenager as well. You still have no idea when Doc figured out you have it bad for Walt – and you intended for the matter to remain unknown to everyone for at least till the war is over, but Bryan found out despite your best efforts to hide your feelings.

To everyone else, Walt Hasser is your best friend, he’s always been and that’s what you have always said (to everyone, yourself included) but lately the word ‘friend’ has been more like a nightmare than a comfort to you.

You ran to your Humvee where Ray seconds ago had been brewing the espresso. Walt could be seen sitting just next to, holding his hand, looking at nothing in particular, and all red in face.

You smiled, as you kneeled in front of him. “What do we have here this time?”

“Oh, you know,” he started, avoiding your gaze, clearly a bit embarrassed by the whole situation, “I burnt my hand.”

You bit your lip to prevent yourself from laughing, but Ray laughing in the driver's seat certainly wasn’t helping. “C’mon, I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

He extended his hand to you to show you the damage done and this time you let out an amused chuckle. “Walt,” you laughed softly, “there’s barely anything on your skin. It’s just a bit red.”

He blushed at your words, looking you in the eye for the first time. “Alright, just wanted it get it checked by you, that’s all."

“That’s not the only thing he wanted checked out.” Ray laughed in the Humvee that made the man in front of you blush even harder than before and downright disappear from your sight.

That wasn’t the first time Ray has made a comment about Walt and you with a certain subtext but every single time when you pushed him about it, he just laughed it off. Of course, there was a time when you let yourself believe that perhaps, you might be the luckiest person on this entire planet because the person you are in love with is also in love with you, but then you let your intrusive thoughts won again and threw the whole ridiculous notion behind.

***

It is a hot day, not that any day in the dessert hasn’t been hot, but you somehow manage to ignore the weather. Your hands are sweating nonetheless as you’re gripping your weapon, your eyes squinting, looking out into your sector. Ray is humming some melody you don’t recognize – he is not off tune as he normally is but you’re not in the mood today for his signing because you know once he starts humming, a solo is coming too.

“Hey Ray, if you could do one thing in the world, what would you do?” you say. It’s the most ridiculous save but it’s the only one you can think of so you’re going with it.

Ray doesn’t even need a second to ponder. “J.Lo.”

Trombley bursts out laughing, and you just know Brad is smiling.

“Should have seen that one coming,” you say, chuckling.

“And you?” Brad surprisingly joins on the hypothetical conversation, “who would you do?”

You’re only taking a breath when Ray casually, as if it’s a common knowledge, answers for you: “That’s fucking easy. Our Walt here.”

The laughter dies in your throat. His comment surprises you so much that your mind is left blank, and you have absolutely no comeback to shoot back at him. Only after a few seconds you manage to get out of yourself a poor “What the fuck, Person?”.

You’re very much aware how Walt is awfully quiet up on the roof but you don’t blame him.

“Oh, relax!” Ray says, his voice full of pure joy and excitement, “Walt would most definitely do you too.”

That finishes you off.

“I’ll be damned,” Brad chuckles in the front, shaking his head, “and I thought you’re one blind motherfucker. But look how they’re both quiet.”

“They should at least fucking thank me. I saved them a lot of time.”

You manage to lean into a position from which you can see Walt’s face and you find him already looking at you. His cheeks are bright red and he’s smiling and he’s beautiful. You can feel the smile forming on your lips.

“Thanks, Ray,” you hear yourself say without breaking eye contact and Walt laughs and you could swear it is the most precious thing in the world.

“No problem, but me and the band? We’re getting back together just for your fucking wedding!”