#nate fick ficlet

[cajunroe]

fickwynn (nate fick x mike “gunny” wynn) + soft home domestic!au ↳ nate never figured his life would end up like this. hell, he never really stopped to figure how his life would end up. but he’s happy, so happy, and that’s all that matters. he has a job he loves, a cat named weston that he loves, a small, but beautiful home, that makes him feel content no matter what, that he loves. and above all, he has mike. mike was the biggest surprise of them all. he had worked his way into nate’s life before he could blink, part of being comrades in arms, so to speak. but the real surprise was when they were finally stateside and done for good and mike gently pulled nate aside during their big celebration together and stuttered out an invitation to dinner. nate didn’t know how to respond. he’d never thought of gunny in that way, or anyone in their motley crew, for that matter and there were plenty to think about. nate just stared at mike for a moment. he’d grown to genuine trust mike with anything, his own life even. he knew mike was caring, strong, passionate, and trustworthy. nate smile and replied with a simple yes. if he hadn’t thought of gunny in a romantic way before, the bright smile and blush he received in return could’ve marked the beginning.

 two years later and he can’t imagine what his life would be like without him.  he wouldn’t have it any other way because his life without mike would be like a humvee without wheels, useless. he wake one lazy sunday morning to the smell of his favorite tea and mike cursing as he tries to gently set their breakfast on the bed, cursing as weston jumps on the bed to steal a strawberry. nate laughs and looks to see mike, glasses on and bedhead standing out proudly gruffly opening the paper to read. weston curls up between the two of them and purrs softly. nate closes his eye and takes a deep breath. days like this, nate thanks whatever is out there for giving him such a good life. it hasn’t always been easy or painless, but every bad thing is worth it to be able to kiss the man he loves every morning and night. the man he wants to be able to call husband. nate wanted to wait for something a little more lavish, but this ordinary lazy sunday was the perfect setting. he leans over and pulls out a small ring tied to red ribbon. he tries to tie it around weston’s neck but their temperamental feline would not have it. he was hissing like nate had just told him they were gonna neuter him. mike looks down to see nate, face red, and fidgeting with a steadily more aggressive cat. 

“nate, what’re you doing to him?”

nate looked up, frustrated and becoming gradually more upset. maybe this was a sign. mike had never mentioned anything about marriage or their future. nate wondered, then, that maybe mike didn’t want to get married. maybe he just wanted them to stay like they were for as long as they could. he never even thought to ask.

“nate?”

“n-nothing, just trying to fix his collar.”

before nate could hide the ring, mike had grabbed his hands to try to help.

both men looked to the small silver band, hanging from a red ribbon, in nate’s hand.

“is that wh-” mike started.

“don’t say anything. i know you don’t want to get married. i’m fine.”

nate moved to pull away but mike held onto his hand with a strong grip.

mike waited for nate to look at him.

when their eyes met, mike saw a look in nate’s eye he hadn’t seen for a long time: fear.

“w-what makes you think i don’t want to get married?”

nate swallowed over the lump in his throat.

“you just never said anything about our future so i assume you’re happy with the way things are. i am too, mike. so happy. i just kind of…it’s stupid.”

mike placed his hands on either side of nate’s face, imploring him to finish his thought. “what, nate?”

“i want to be able to call you my husband.”

mike smiled, bright and full of unconditional love for the man in front of him. 

“yes.”

several looks passed through nate’s face; confusion, realization, shock, acceptance, and adoration.

he threw himself at mike and kissed him soundly, the two fitting together like they always had: seamlessly. 

mike pulled away from the kiss to grab a small box from the drawer in his nightstand.

nate’s eyes widened before bursting into laughter with mike.

“i was gonna put it in your favorite book and wait.”

nate smiled as he looked at the near identical band he bought for mike.

he kissed mike once, short and chaste but perfect.

“i think we’ve waited long enough.”

@msridcully - thank you!  send me a pairing and an au and i’ll make an aesthetic post + ficlet 

[antiquecompass]

@gingerwerk tagged me for a post about WIP Mountain. So, here we go.

Rules: List all the things you’re currently working on in as much or little detail as you’d like, then tag some friends to see what they’re working on.

This can be writing, art, vids, gifsets - anything at all!

Most of these are obvs verse related ficlets bc I can’t ever learn to let anything go. So this post won’t be approx 5k long in and out itself I’m just going to post about the WIPs I’ve actively been working on over the past three months.

1. The Most Recent Thing:

It’s the Gone Are All the Days 2018 Superbowl Fic. Thank you so much to the Eagles for actually winning and giving my fic the happier, but still bittersweet, of the two endings I was planning. This one better see the light of day before Valentine’s Day or I will slap myself.

Excerpt Time:

A lot had changed in Babe Heffron’s life since 2004. His Philly family had lost a few members, but gained a ton between new babies, a hell of a bunch of in-laws, and groups of folks that just got adopted in along the way. In those years Bill had lost an entire leg, gained a desk job, finally convinced Fran to marry his foolish ass, and started raising three kids. Ralph was an actual <i>doctor</i> now, running one of the Thibodaux Medical Clinics just outside Baton Rouge. Maggie lived with Ralph and Sid in their own place in St. Boniface these days, working at the clinic here and forging her own path like usual.

 And Babe?

 Babe went from being a bartender to working an actual office job for Nixon Development. He had most weekends and holidays off and a 401k and an actual accountant to handle his taxes now. He was <i>married</i> for Christ’s sake. To a friggin’ <i>doctor</i>. In Louisiana of all places. If he could’ve gone back in time and told teenage Babe he’d be settled down, far away from South Philly, with some Cajun doc he’d met during New Orleans, he probably would’ve punched himself.

 And there was no way, in any of his wildest dreams, he could’ve predicted having Merl-Francis as his brother-in-law.

2. The Why Wasn’t This Finished Ten Years Ago Thing:

Okay not ten, more like six or seven, but the point still stands. This is a post about both Old Haunts and the ACTUAL Gone Are All the Days fic. OH should be finished by March. I’m aiming for the actual GAATD fic to be posted in the summer, since it’s a fic that takes place during that most brutal of southern seasons.

Excerpt Time from the next OH chapter:

Babe laughed as Julian leaned in closer, damn near nuzzling his neck, as he petted Babe’s hair. “You’re so soft for someone so mean.”

 ���Mean?” Babe asked.

 “You’re going to leave us like Ralphie over there,” Jules said. “Wooed away by that doctor.”

 “Wooed?” Bill asked, laughing as filled his coffee with sugar.

 “Woooooooed,” Julian said. He took a big gulp of his water. “Hey, has anyone heard from Ron yet?”

 Babe shrugged. “You know, Ron. He doesn’t like to be on the grid unless he has a reason. I’m not going to worry unless he misses dinner.”

 “He knows better than that,” Bill said. No one missed Nonna Guarnere’s dinner invite unless they were actually dying. And even then, they better have called first.

3. The You STILL Haven’t Finished That Yet?

Okay, this could be anything, but this is me, yelling at myself, about the NCIS fic.

4. The Crossover:

Aka the Star Trek fusion fic ‘verse with @scramjets. It’ll be awesome.

5. The I Owe Alex Approx 500 Gift Ficlets One:

Aka The Nate Fick/Mike Wynn fic set in the same ‘verse as The Holy Vow of a Teenage Kiss. Thanks to this gif set, a spark of inspiration was finally lit under my ass and I actually opened up Word and typed some things.

Excerpt Time:

Nate couldn’t help but let his eyes linger on the windows. Matilda and McKenzie waved at him from their shared bedroom, smiles wide on their faces and bathed in the yellow light from their shared teddy bear lamp. Nate grinned at them and waved back, wishing desperately to be inside that tiny home full of so much love, instead of on the outside and walking away. That wasn’t his life, though. Those weren’t his daughters and Mike wasn’t his anything no matter how much Nate wanted otherwise.

6. The Brian Fallon Has a New Album Coming Out And You Know There Will Be Ficspiration:

Nothing here yet, but give it until tomorrow and I’m sure they’ll be something.

That’s all for now. I’m going to go ahead and tag @warriorgays @floorlimes and @janoda, just to try and hit as many different fandoms as I can in one go.

[luxover]

did somebody say ficlet prompts? since i'm listening to snow patrol rn, i would like to request something shippy with nate fick and... p much anybody, prompt: "light up, light up, as if you have a choice."

Nate doesn’t go to the Camp Pendleton homecoming.

He doesn’t feel bad about it, all things considered. It’d be weird to be on the other side of it, for one, to be standing there with the other spouses, waiting for the bus of Marines to finally show up after months and months apart. He’d have nothing to say to the other families, and couldn’t tell them the truth. And besides, Nate’s not a spouse. Nate doesn’t know what he is, or if he even is anything anymore.

That’s not exactly fair of him, Nate knows. There’s no way Brad wants him there, and honestly, Nate doesn’t want to be there himself. It would be weird, and people might start thinking along the lines of the truth, and Nate’s career in politics can’t have that any more than Brad’s in the Corps can. It’s just—

It was an ugly fight, is all, even though it was short and neither of them yelled. Nate had planned to visit Brad in England towards the end of his duty, and Brad had booked him a hotel.

So, what? Nate had asked. He was exhausted from a long day, and probably wouldn’t have said anything otherwise, but still hadn’t meant it as an attack. We have to hide the fact that we’re even friends now?

Brad had let out a long breath on the other side of the line and started, Nate, I can’t have you—

But he never finished the thought and the two of them just sat there, phones pressed against their ears, an ocean between them, until Nate finally said, I have to go.

Alright, Brad had replied, and that was it.

Nate wonders if Brad’ll even come back to Cambridge now that he’s stateside, or if that’s just it. Maybe he’ll just stay in California. A part of Nate has always expected that’s how things with them would end: quietly, and on two different sides of the country. It’s not like there’s anything of Brad’s left at Nate’s apartment other than a few tech books and a WIRED magazine subscription. Brad has no reason to come back.

Once, during Brad’s first visit out, the two of them in bed and freezing because it was winter and Nate’s first apartment was a piece of shit, Brad had basically said as much. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing here, he had said, his lips moving against the back of Nate’s neck, and Nate doesn’t remember why, because it certainly doesn’t fit the memory, but he remembers smiling and breathing out a laugh.

Because Brad was there, probably. Nate’s always been easy like that when it comes to Brad.

Nate falls asleep on the couch that night, not that he means to. The tv’s still on when he wakes up, C-SPAN on low and a book folded open on his chest. It’s just past one in the morning, and the lights in the living room are bright. Nate squints up at the ceiling. He doesn’t know what woke him up until—

A knock at the door again, and Nate’s heart beats against the inside of his ribcage. There’s only one person that it could be. Of course he knows who it is, or at least who he wants it to be.

Rolling off the couch and to his feet, Nate scrubs an open palm over his face as he crosses the living room. He opens the door before he even realizes his hand is on the door knob, and then there Brad is, looking just as tired as Nate feels, standing in a grey t-shirt and blue jeans, his Corps-issued backpack tossed over his shoulder and a duffle at his feet.

There’s a new scar just over his left eyebrow that Nate’s never seen before, but Brad’s there, in Cambridge, and he’s healthy and whole and standing across the threshold from Nate after having only just gone on libo in California earlier that day, and Nate just—

The feeling starts in his chest but expands so rapidly that Nate’s almost dizzy with it. It’s relief, maybe, but not quite. It’s not disbelief, either, but something else entirely that fills him with helium and threatens to break him right open.

Happiness, maybe. Maybe it’s just happiness.

“Hey,” Brad says seriously, as if that’s all he has to say when they haven’t talked in three weeks or seen each other in months.

And all Nate can suddenly think about is that first night they spent together in Cambridge, how they fucked on Nate’s full-size bed and then hid under all the covers, including the throw blanket that Nate usually kept over the back of the couch in the living room.

I love you, Nate had whispered, not because he was afraid to say it, but just because it was nighttime and everything else was so quiet.

Brad hadn’t said it back, but he had pulled Nate closer and said into the back of Nate’s neck, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing here. We’re never coming back once you graduate, and Nate had understood. Brad’s never been good at saying what he meant.

Looking at Brad standing there on Nate’s front steps, Nate’s sorry, too. And maybe Brad can tell. For all his faults, he’s always been perceptive like that, and now he just looks at Nate, just looks and looks at looks, and Nate looks back. He can’t believe how stupid they were being.

And then all of a sudden, Nate just can’t hold it in anymore. He bites his lip trying, but it breaks free and then he’s smiling, big and wide, and Brad’s smiling back, his real smile, nothing sharp or sarcastic to it, and Nate’s so lucky that he actually gets to see it, so fucking lucky, and he can’t believe that they almost threw this away over nothing.

“Hey, yourself,” Nate says back, but Brad’ll get what he means.

[hitman-two]

All Victors be advised...

All Victors (followers) be advised, we are on route (active) to our destination with our new mission (to be more active). Our ROE remains the same (pinned post). Break. Cutting the military jargon.... I AM SO SORRY FOR BEING INACTIVE... I went through some traumatic events the past year and couldn't deliver content. But I'm okay now and I'm ready to re-enter the fandom, bring this blog back to a more active state. Feel free to send in any prompts either for Doc x Grace or other ships or Character x Reader. Christmas prompts are more than welcome! I'll do my best to write up a little drabble before Christmas. I've also just found out Tumblr placed a 4k character limit on posts so sometimes your prompts might be in two parts, or will just be a little less in writing. I like to write a lot but I'm trying to train myself to keep it in a short-ish drabble.

[cajunroe]

waltray + modern witches!au ↳ the united states marine corp of witches was the first of it’s kind to allow witches in the military. and ray and brad were among the first to enlist. best friends since grade school, they’d stuck together through everything - discrimination, hate speech, the whole lot - and studied more on spells than social studies. so when they finally got the chance to put their skills to use, they didn’t hesitate. two years later, and stronger than ever, their driving through some desert highway, in their designated and distinguishing black mopp suits. a requirement, the government had said, to protect them. ray knew damn well it was to keep the rest of the marines away from them. and he’s sure it’s the reason they’re the first ones on this mission. the corps saw them as expendable because they didn’t understand what and who the men really were. they gave a whole new meaning to ‘devil dog.’ and it wasn’t war and fighting other witches that surprised ray, he prepared and trained for that. it was the man on top of their humvee, he wasn’t prepared for. something about the silent power and bloodlust he felt come off walt drew him to the other man time and time again. and when the two are sent ahead, being the most powerful witches in the platoon, something happens that ray could have never prepared for.

another shot of electricity flew over ray’s head.

“fuck these asshole don’t know when to quit. what’s eta on the cov?” ray shouted, cov being a nickname, among the many others, for coven, their platoon,at walt who was on the other side of the street, panting from the force of his powers.

“ten, maybe fifteen minutes. they’re stuck behind a ward. fick and gunny are working on breaking it.”

a burst of force knocked out the wall walt was using for cover and he made a mad dash for ray.

ray covered, shooting massive bolts of fire from his hands.

“we’re not gonna make it, if we don’t take out the front line.”

walt, out of breath, panted, “any suggestions?”

ray laughed, “yeah but you’re not gonna like it.”

brad was swearing up a storm.

if anything happened to ray or walt, it’d be his fault. he’d sent them ahead, much to ray’s excitement, only because he’d thought they were in the clear.

“trombley!”

trombley ran up quickly, “yes sir.”

“how accurate is your shot spell?”

“fuckin’ accurate.”

“good. with me. reporter., stay in the humvee”

brad grabbed trombley by the arm and pulled him to the side of nate and gunny.

“what?”

“sir, we don’t have enough time to counter the ward. trombley is gonna blast it, sir.”

nate stood up and for the first time saw genuine worry and fear in brad’s eyes.

“accuracy?”

“90-93.”

nate looked to gunny who nodded sternly.

nate looked back to brad, “do it.”

brad sighed gently, “thank you sir. i recommend moving them men back at least four yards.”

“okay.”

“permission to stay and help tombley, sir?”

nate smiled, fear in his eyes betraying his expression, “permission granted.”

brad rolled up his sleeves and instructed trombley to do the same. 

then, for the first time in his life, he prayed. prayed that this would work.

walt gawked as another blast slammed through the build they were using for cover.

“ray! we can’t do a summoning spell, my kit is in the humvee.”

ray groaned, “brad is gonna kill you. you’re not supposed to go anywhere without your kit walt!”

walt rolled his eye, “now that we established the obvious, i have a suggestion.”

ray sent another flash of fire, this one hitting the man on the far right, and consuming him with flame.

he looked to walt, squinting, “what is it?”

walt swallowed hard, “unison.”

ray laughed, “unison? are you fucking- walt people die trying that shit and we haven’t even practiced it!”

walt groaned, “look we’re gonna die either way, at least this way we die trying!”

ray sighed, “fine, but don’t come yell at me in the underworld because you shit plan got us killed.”

walt smiled and ray could die happy knowing he was the reason for it.

unison was powerful, but dark magic. two witches, combining their powers, had unreconcilable and irrevocable outcomes, usually in the form of massive casualties. it’d been outlawed in many countries, but the good ol’ u-s-of-a was trying to hone in on the power as a new form of wmd’s. ray jokingly liked to call them witches of mass destruction. it was a testament to how the world viewed them, as taboo, weapons, outsiders. he simultaneously loved and hated it. 

the rolled up their sleeves, tattoos lining up perfectly and held on tight.

“okay trombley, i’m going to put a shield around us and i want you to focus all of your psycho bullshit on the ward. think about it completely shattering. pretend it insulted your sister for fuck’s sake. just take. it. down.”

trombley smiled, cold and feral, “yes sir.”

brad placed his hands on the ground and spoke softly forming a protective shield against the blast radius.

“now trombley!” 

in an instant the ward was down, collapsing several building around them as well.

there were resounding cheers from the men behind them and brad radio for them to hurry their ass up.

holding onto one another, ray could feel everything from walt - anger, fear, desire, power - and he was intoxicated.

slowly the repeated spells, in unison, to build their strength.

the earth began to shake and ray gripped walt’s arms tighter, the power almost too strong to bear.

“ray, ray look at me.”

ray looked at walt, pain beginning to take hold in his body.

he saw walt’s eyes shining the brightest blue he’d ever seen and began to feel more calm, balanced, like he was in control.

“we can do this. i got you.” walt smiled as bricks crashed around them and ray’s heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest.

“if we survive, remind me to tell you something.”

walt pulled ray into him, hands not letting go.

he leaned in and whispered in ray’s ear, “i already know.”

ray pulled walt closer to him and as their lips crashed together, the entire enemy line burst into flames and ash. 

when the platoon finally were able to reach ray and walt, they found they weren’t need.

the two men were sitting in the middle of the road, holding hands, and talking heatedly.

ray looked up, “well it’s about you lazy sons of bitches. we’ve only been waiting for ten fucking years. you want us to win this war without you.”

brad was out of the humvee and on them in an instant.

he looked between the two of them intensely, “you both good?”

walt smiled, “we’re good sir.”

he let go of ray’s hand, still feeling their connection even as he walked away.

brad looked at ray who was looking at walt.

“hey bradley, remember when we tried unison in seventh grade and ended up killing your neighbors cat.”

“yeah the, uh, tabby, right? god i hated that thing.”

ray smiled, “yeah well walt and i just did that to the entire fucking enemy line!”

ray shouted the last part and jumped up and down in excitement.

brad gawked, “how the fuck did you do that?”

ray just ran away and back toward walt.

“ray!” brad ran after him, “how did you that?!”

ray turned around, still running backwards, “love, bradley, with sweet, sweet gay love!”

brad walked back the humvee in contemplation, maybe he should try with nate sometime.

anonymous - thank you! i’m not sure if this is what you were looking for and if it isn’t send in another ask and let me know. i know a lot of modern witch!aus are very soft gothic, etc. but this is gen kill, so i took it a little differently. thank you!

send me a pairing and an au and i’ll make an aesthetic post + ficlet