Tag: genkill

indyfinitely:

“they were called a generation without heroes. then they were called upon to be heroes. within hours of 9/11, america’s war on terrorism fell to those like the twenty-three marines of the first recon battalion, the first generation dispatched into open-ended combat since vietnam. they were a new pop-culture breed of american warrior unrecognizable to their forebears—soldiers raised on hip hop, video games and the real world. cocky, brave, headstrong, wary, and mostly unprepared for the physical, emotional and moral horrors ahead, the “first suicide battalion” would spearhead the blitzkrieg on iraq, and be among the first american combat units baptized in the horrors of iraq’s terrifying guerilla war. generation kill is the funny, frightening, and profane firsthand account of these remarkable men, of the personal toll of victory, and of the randomness, brutality, and camaraderie of a new american war.”

nate/wynn + “Stop trying to cheer me up!”

warriorgays:

“This is not good,” Nate mumbled again, chewing the end of his pen, and Mike paused the DVR.

“What’s going on?”

“Hm?” Nate glanced up and blinked at Mike and the screen as if he was startled to find them in the room. “Oh, nothing. Go ahead, you can keep watching.”

“It’s nothing interesting anyway. What’s not good? Also, why the hell are you so far away?”

Despite his apparent distress, Nate managed a grin, and unfolded himself from his position in Mike’s favorite big comfy armchair. He stretched as he stood, cracking something in his back, and his dark blue Berkeley t-shirt rode up on his stomach. He was wearing pajama pants that hung low on his hips, and two days ago that probably would have been enough to interrupt their conversation entirely. But they had had plenty of time to reacquaint themselves since then, and Mike was able to not ravish Nate when he sat down again, this time on the couch, and curled up against Mike’s shoulder. He was clutching a sheaf of paper, and he smacked the front sheet for emphasis.

“I’ve got fifty-two quizzes and fifty-two essays to grade, I’m only two-thirds of the way through the quizzes and I’ve had to give ten grades under 70. And some of these are such stupid mistakes! Like mixing up countries–I don’t expect you to be mixing up any countries by Thanksgiving break, honestly, but I’ll grudgingly allow it for something like Yemen and Oman, or Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan. But Turkey and Saudi Arabia? No!”

Keep reading

Send me a pairing and a line of dialogue and I’ll write you something happy/light-hearted

warriorgays:

autumnyte:

  • “Wait right there, don’t move!“ 
  • “That’s a good look for you.“ 
  • “Could you repeat that?”  
  • “Hey, have you seen the…? Oh.” 
  • “Everything’s going to be fine.“ 
  • “This isn’t exactly what I had in mind." 
  • "Are you flirting with me?”
  • “Must be a day ending in y." 
  • "Stop trying to cheer me up!" 
  • "You want me to do what?” 
  • "It’s never too late.”
  • “Please stay.”
  • “If there’s one thing the world needs more of…”
  • “I’ve got one word for you: sing-along!”
  • “Are you fucking kidding me?”
  • “Can we pretend I didn’t just say that?
  • "That is one hell of a mess.”
  • “There’s something I’ve been meaning to say…" 
  • "Last time I ask you for a favor!”
  • “Come on.”
  • “I need this.”
  •  ”Don’t make it into a big deal.” 
  • “You forgot to say the magic word.”
  • “Where the fuck did that clown come from?” 
  • “I’ll never unsee that." 
  • "Can I tell you a secret?”
  • “This one’s on me." 
  • "I’m lost.”
  • “Give me a hand.”
  • “I think you missed your calling.”

I’m in a Gen Kill mood–send me ur prompts for Brad/Ray, Brad/Nate/Ray, Nate/Wynn or Brad/Poke.

I can write stuff for GenKill (Any) and BoB (Any but Webgott)

Nate/Wynn meeting at a party while drunk au (cuz I find the idea of drunk Nate intriguing)

antiquecompass:

Mike Wynn tried not to judge all the behaviors of other people, but it did make him awfully curious about what kind of man got shitfaced and then started to recite The Aeneid from memory. In Latin. In all his years as a bartender, he had to admit this one was a first.

“Just don’t throw yourself on an pyres,” Mike said as he pushed a glass of water at the man before him.

“Oh, we won’t let Nate here get hurt,” Poke said.

“That kid is legal right?” Mike asked.

Poke nodded as Nate sighed. “I’m thirty. No one believes me. Nooooo one knows the trouble I’ve seen,” he started to sing.

Mike tried not to laugh. He didn’t succeed one bit. “I think it’s water on the rocks for you the rest of the night.”

“Do you know why it’s ‘on the rocks’?” Nate asked. “Pretty sure it has something to do with the glass. I think.”

Mike nodded. “I think so too.” He wave at Poke. “Go back to your party. I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“Thanks, Mike,” Poke said.

Nate was running a finger through the condensation on his glass. “Water’s funny,” he said.

Mike, in all his years, had never been so charmed by a drunk with such a dramatic pout. It made him want to know what the kid was like sober.

“Did you know salt used to be more valuable than gold?” Nate asked.

“You always a walking Wikipedia?” Mike asked.

Nate ducked his head. “Oh, sorry.”

“No,” Mike said, leaning against the bar. “I like it. Keep going.”