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hackthis_archiveSo, I never actually got to use Write or Die, because of ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
alethialia, who is a fucking BAD, err awesome influence. Apparently I have no words unless they involve Layla Colbert Fick. Go figure. This cookie is for A and mydocuments who requested 'children' and 'daughter' in some challenge somewhere. This is a bit bigger than a comment.
Generation Kill
Brad/Nate, Layla, Samuel
The Sea
Layla's playing at the water's edge with Samuel, although a more appropriate description would be that Layla's at the water's edge, whacking her cousin with her shovel so he'll help her with her sand castle.
At four Samuel's much more tolerant than Layla is at sixteen months.
Nate should probably put a stop to the assault, but Layla keeps shrieking with glee every time Samuel dumps sand in her lap. If Sammy's trying to get rid of his cousin, he's not trying very hard.
Every now and then a wave comes far enough up the beach that it rushes over the little pile of sand that was Layla's sand castle, and Layla claps as though she's commanded the entire thing to happen.
It's not outside the realm of possibility.
Nate watches as Layla stands up on little brown legs and darts around the surf in her peach-colored swimsuit, white zinc slathered all over her nose and cheeks. She wanted the swimsuit with ruffles; Brad agreed. He had nothing to do with it.
It's amazing how fast she's gone from crawling and babbling to foot mobile and very vocal. "Daddy! Daddy" she shrieks, waving her red plastic shovel excitedly at Nate. "Lookit!"
"Layla, be careful with that," Nate warns as she nearly beheads Samuel.
Layla gives him a toothy grin before she drops back down and dumps sand on Sammy's leg.
Nate shakes his head with a smile, shifting under their beach umbrella before going back to pretending to read the potential precincts reports that his exploratory team has assembled.
The run won't happen for a few years yet, he wants Layla in preschool first, but it's never too early for groundwork.
First, city council, and then Congress, and then the Senate, and after that. Well, Layla should be ready for middle school at least. It'll be a better time to move across the country.
A sharp shriek grabs his attention, and he's just in time to see Layla run as fast as her chubby legs will take her out to where Brad's coming in with his surfboard.
Layla may have excitement on her side, but Nate's got longer legs, faster reflexes and Iraq on his side. He dashes across the sand and scoops Layla up before she's more than four inches into the surf.
Layla looses another happy shriek as Nate scoops her up in his arms like a runaway lamb. "Where do you think you're going?" Nate says, tickling her as she kicks gleefully.
"I keep telling you it's time for her to get her own surfboard," Brad says, brushing the water from his face.
Nate makes a dismissive noise, but Brad's grin is huge. Nate rolls his eyes. He is not even thinking about sex. Not even a little bit.
Some people get better with age. Some people look better with sun. And then there are people like Brad, who just need to dial back the hotness for the rest of the mortals.
Layla twists in his grasp, making grabby motions at Brad when he leans down. "Layla wants to swim with me, don't you, Princess?"
Layla giggles as Brad shakes his head and droplets of water fly all over them. The water dries the second it hits Nate's skin; he should get in the water, too. It's hot out today; he could stand to cool off.
Nate glances down at where Layla's whacking him on the arm. "We swim, Daddy?" she asks, looking up at him expectantly.
Nate blinks, looking out at the blueish-grey Newport water and not at the water droplets rolling down Brad's bare chest.
How parents manage to raise children while dying for a fuck, he has no idea.
Brad's mouth twitches at the right corner as though he can read Nate's mind, then again, Nate's not trying very hard to hide his thoughts.
"Nate," Brad mocks. "I'm shocked you would even entertain such thoughts in front of our daughter at her impressionable age."
Nate snorts, holding a wriggling Layla a little more firmly. "When she can spell 'innuendo,' I'll worry. Until then I think we're going to go for a swim, and you're going to watch your nephew."
Brad considers this for a moment. "Sammy," he calls. "You ready to learn how to surf?"
Samuel jumps to his feet, rushing out to where they're standing, the surf washing over their feet. "Really, Uncle Brad?" he asks.
Brad's sister, Sharon, has been pretty adamant about Sammy being too small to learn how to surf. Nate should point this out. "Brad, you know what your sister said."
"Are you nagging me, wife?" Brad teases.
Nate snorts. "If I was your wife, I'd be the best wife ever."
Brad grins. "The best slutty wife ever," he corrects, scratching his head, the sun glinting off of the silver ring on his left hand.
Nate can feel his face –- and a few other things -- getting warm. Dammit.
Layla's squirms. "Down now," she demands.
Oh, thank god.
Nate means to look disapproving. He knows he does; he just can't manage it with Brad giving him that look. He shakes his head and lets Layla down onto her feet, making sure to hold her hand.
"If Sammy breaks his nose, and Sharon wants your blood, just remember it's not my fault," Nate says as Layla kicks water everywhere.
"If Sharon wants me for anything, I think she's going to have agree to watch Layla tonight, first," Brad says, raising an eyebrow suggestively.
Nate licks his lips. "I could support that initiative."
"It's a good initiative," Brad agrees.
"Uncle Brad?" Sammy interrupts. "Are we going to surf now?"
"In a minute, Sammy," Brad says, shifting his surfboard a little and stepping forward.
Nate chuckles, shaking his head.
Layla's tugging at his hand, even as Brad leans in. "Now, Daddy!" she insists, and they both glance at her for a moment, sharing a brief, indulgent grin.
"So, you and me tonight?" Nate inquires. "No kids?"
Brad's eyes are bright. "We could play Recon Marines," he says, his mouth a breath away from Nate's.
Nate's laugh is swallowed up by a quick kiss, followed rather spectacularly by Layla stepping on his foot. "Now, Daddy!" she orders.
"Jesus!" Brad bitches lightly. "Kids."
Nate grins sharply. "Imagine if we had more than one."
Brad's eyes go wide. "That's a joke I hope."
Nate shrugs, scooping up Layla again to take her a little further out. "Could be," he tosses over his shoulder.
"You're going to have to put out a lot more for another kid," Brad calls.
"Put out what?" Sammy asks.
Nate's too busy laughing to hear Brad's reply.
-end-
alethialia, who is a fucking BAD, err awesome influence. Apparently I have no words unless they involve Layla Colbert Fick. Go figure. This cookie is for A and mydocuments who requested 'children' and 'daughter' in some challenge somewhere. This is a bit bigger than a comment.Generation Kill
Brad/Nate, Layla, Samuel
Layla's playing at the water's edge with Samuel, although a more appropriate description would be that Layla's at the water's edge, whacking her cousin with her shovel so he'll help her with her sand castle.
At four Samuel's much more tolerant than Layla is at sixteen months.
Nate should probably put a stop to the assault, but Layla keeps shrieking with glee every time Samuel dumps sand in her lap. If Sammy's trying to get rid of his cousin, he's not trying very hard.
Every now and then a wave comes far enough up the beach that it rushes over the little pile of sand that was Layla's sand castle, and Layla claps as though she's commanded the entire thing to happen.
It's not outside the realm of possibility.
Nate watches as Layla stands up on little brown legs and darts around the surf in her peach-colored swimsuit, white zinc slathered all over her nose and cheeks. She wanted the swimsuit with ruffles; Brad agreed. He had nothing to do with it.
It's amazing how fast she's gone from crawling and babbling to foot mobile and very vocal. "Daddy! Daddy" she shrieks, waving her red plastic shovel excitedly at Nate. "Lookit!"
"Layla, be careful with that," Nate warns as she nearly beheads Samuel.
Layla gives him a toothy grin before she drops back down and dumps sand on Sammy's leg.
Nate shakes his head with a smile, shifting under their beach umbrella before going back to pretending to read the potential precincts reports that his exploratory team has assembled.
The run won't happen for a few years yet, he wants Layla in preschool first, but it's never too early for groundwork.
First, city council, and then Congress, and then the Senate, and after that. Well, Layla should be ready for middle school at least. It'll be a better time to move across the country.
A sharp shriek grabs his attention, and he's just in time to see Layla run as fast as her chubby legs will take her out to where Brad's coming in with his surfboard.
Layla may have excitement on her side, but Nate's got longer legs, faster reflexes and Iraq on his side. He dashes across the sand and scoops Layla up before she's more than four inches into the surf.
Layla looses another happy shriek as Nate scoops her up in his arms like a runaway lamb. "Where do you think you're going?" Nate says, tickling her as she kicks gleefully.
"I keep telling you it's time for her to get her own surfboard," Brad says, brushing the water from his face.
Nate makes a dismissive noise, but Brad's grin is huge. Nate rolls his eyes. He is not even thinking about sex. Not even a little bit.
Some people get better with age. Some people look better with sun. And then there are people like Brad, who just need to dial back the hotness for the rest of the mortals.
Layla twists in his grasp, making grabby motions at Brad when he leans down. "Layla wants to swim with me, don't you, Princess?"
Layla giggles as Brad shakes his head and droplets of water fly all over them. The water dries the second it hits Nate's skin; he should get in the water, too. It's hot out today; he could stand to cool off.
Nate glances down at where Layla's whacking him on the arm. "We swim, Daddy?" she asks, looking up at him expectantly.
Nate blinks, looking out at the blueish-grey Newport water and not at the water droplets rolling down Brad's bare chest.
How parents manage to raise children while dying for a fuck, he has no idea.
Brad's mouth twitches at the right corner as though he can read Nate's mind, then again, Nate's not trying very hard to hide his thoughts.
"Nate," Brad mocks. "I'm shocked you would even entertain such thoughts in front of our daughter at her impressionable age."
Nate snorts, holding a wriggling Layla a little more firmly. "When she can spell 'innuendo,' I'll worry. Until then I think we're going to go for a swim, and you're going to watch your nephew."
Brad considers this for a moment. "Sammy," he calls. "You ready to learn how to surf?"
Samuel jumps to his feet, rushing out to where they're standing, the surf washing over their feet. "Really, Uncle Brad?" he asks.
Brad's sister, Sharon, has been pretty adamant about Sammy being too small to learn how to surf. Nate should point this out. "Brad, you know what your sister said."
"Are you nagging me, wife?" Brad teases.
Nate snorts. "If I was your wife, I'd be the best wife ever."
Brad grins. "The best slutty wife ever," he corrects, scratching his head, the sun glinting off of the silver ring on his left hand.
Nate can feel his face –- and a few other things -- getting warm. Dammit.
Layla's squirms. "Down now," she demands.
Oh, thank god.
Nate means to look disapproving. He knows he does; he just can't manage it with Brad giving him that look. He shakes his head and lets Layla down onto her feet, making sure to hold her hand.
"If Sammy breaks his nose, and Sharon wants your blood, just remember it's not my fault," Nate says as Layla kicks water everywhere.
"If Sharon wants me for anything, I think she's going to have agree to watch Layla tonight, first," Brad says, raising an eyebrow suggestively.
Nate licks his lips. "I could support that initiative."
"It's a good initiative," Brad agrees.
"Uncle Brad?" Sammy interrupts. "Are we going to surf now?"
"In a minute, Sammy," Brad says, shifting his surfboard a little and stepping forward.
Nate chuckles, shaking his head.
Layla's tugging at his hand, even as Brad leans in. "Now, Daddy!" she insists, and they both glance at her for a moment, sharing a brief, indulgent grin.
"So, you and me tonight?" Nate inquires. "No kids?"
Brad's eyes are bright. "We could play Recon Marines," he says, his mouth a breath away from Nate's.
Nate's laugh is swallowed up by a quick kiss, followed rather spectacularly by Layla stepping on his foot. "Now, Daddy!" she orders.
"Jesus!" Brad bitches lightly. "Kids."
Nate grins sharply. "Imagine if we had more than one."
Brad's eyes go wide. "That's a joke I hope."
Nate shrugs, scooping up Layla again to take her a little further out. "Could be," he tosses over his shoulder.
"You're going to have to put out a lot more for another kid," Brad calls.
"Put out what?" Sammy asks.
Nate's too busy laughing to hear Brad's reply.
-end-
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-02-11 01:17 am (UTC)This is made of awesome and sun and sand and water and love and if I could bottle it and keep it forever and ever I would. Gods.
Nate thinking about his career around Layla's life. The ring on Brad's finger. Innuendo. OH GOD how is happy kidfic so awesome?
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Date: 2009-02-11 05:15 pm (UTC)I was never a hurge kid!fic person, and then Layla came along and it was like, dude. DUDE.
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Date: 2009-02-11 01:18 am (UTC)It's amazing how fast she's gone from crawling and babbling to foot mobile and very vocal.
Foot mobile! ::dies a little::
He is not even thinking about sex. Not even a little bit.
He is not lying, even a little bit. Oh, wait, YES HE IS!
And then there are people like Brad, who just need to dial back the hotness for the rest of the mortals.
But seriously, though.
How parents manage to raise children while dying for a fuck, he has no idea.
Hee! Well, most parents don't look like effin' Brad.
Brad's sister, Stephanie
AHH! I named Nate's sister Stephanie. Did I steal this from you? ::thinks::
"You're going to have to put out a lot more for another kid," Brad calls.
"Put out what?" Sammy asks.
AHAHAHAHA! ::dies a lot::
SO MUCH LOVE! They're too freakin' adorable for, like, anything. THANK YOU.
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Date: 2009-02-11 04:02 am (UTC)The real Nate's sisters are named Stephanie and Maureen. =)
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Date: 2009-02-11 01:19 am (UTC)How parents manage to raise children while dying for a fuck, he has no idea.
Okay, loved that.
Nate snorts. "If I was your wife, I'd be the best wife ever."
Brad grins. "The best slutty wife ever," he corrects, scratching his head, the sun glinting off of the silver ring on his left hand.
Hee, Nate would be the Best Wife Ever. And the ring! *heart melts some more*
"You're going to have to put out a lot more for another kid," Brad calls.
"Put out what?" Sammy asks.
LOLOL.
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Date: 2009-02-11 05:23 pm (UTC)It's good to leave things open-ended :nods sagely:
Brad grins. "The best slutty wife ever," he corrects, scratching his head, the sun glinting off of the silver ring on his left hand.
Hee, Nate would be the Best Wife Ever. And the ring! *heart melts some more*
I think Nate would be the best wife ever too. I'm so glad you liked this.
Yay!!
Date: 2009-02-11 01:48 am (UTC)Re: Yay!!
Date: 2009-02-11 05:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-11 01:59 am (UTC)*coughs* Um, I made you something:
Because I laughed for like a minute solid when I saw that Ray sent them that shirt for her in the first one, but which I was not coherent enough to comment on in the actual fic... Enjoy!
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Date: 2009-02-11 05:26 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2009-02-11 02:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-11 05:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-11 04:41 am (UTC)::Keysmash of joy::
dsniewiowehioewhoeiwhewoehgoewiheofhewo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!11111111111!
Allright, I'm back!
I love that Brad's sis is Stephanie. Stephanie is my real name! Do you know how many characters in fiction are named Stephanie? Not enough. I've got Stephanie Tanner, and she sucks.
And is apparently now a drug addict. Whodathunk?She wanted the swimsuit with ruffles; Brad agreed.
OK, I've got the cutest picture in my head, of Layla in a little peach baby bikini, with her fat little baby tummy, and wayyyyyyy too much sunscreen on her face, and it's adorable. I don't even like kids! I think it's just the ovary-imploding hotness of hot dads.
It'll be a better time to move across the country.
Realtor.com. Duuude... I waste more time there, picking out their houses in DC and in Oceanside, and the 'rents houses. It's sad. At this point, I can even tell you which private school is closest to the Capitol.
How parents manage to raise children, while dying for a fuck, he has no idea.
I walked in on my mom giving my dad a blow-job when I was 11. Trufax.
Brad's eyes are bright. "We could play Recon Marines," he says, his mouth a breath away from Nate's.
Fuck cops and robbers, let's play Hajis and Marines instead!
Nate's grins sharply. "Imagine if we had more than one."
Brad and Nate are 100x cooler than Brangelina. Hotter too.
"Put out what?" Sammy asks.
Oh Brad, you're going to be in trouble when Samuel repeats that one! Kids do indeed say the darndest things
I freaking LOVE this. This week I have managed to run over a curb and blow a tire, concuss myself mildly on the way to a nail appointment, and slice my finger open on a broken wine glass. I feel like this is tipping my luck back to good!
In short, thank you thank you thank you!!!! ♥ ♥ ♥
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Date: 2009-02-11 05:32 pm (UTC)In light of your convo with A, Stephanie is now Sharon, but you know, the thought was there. And there's Stephanie Plum from the Janet Evanovich series, who's the most inept bounty hunter ever, but she's got stupidly hot men, and she's very entertaining, so you know, not all bad.
OK, I've got the cutest picture in my head, of Layla in a little peach baby bikini, with her fat little baby tummy, and wayyyyyyy too much sunscreen on her face, and it's adorable. I don't even like kids! I think it's just the ovary-imploding hotness of hot dads.
LMFAO! It's a one-piece -- Nate does not expose his child, plus, a two-piece is too much work for someone who has to be dressed in under 45 seconds or she'll start streaking around the house -- but yes, with the baby tummy and waaaaaay too much sunscreen.
Brad and Nate are 100x cooler than Brangelina. Hotter too.
Damn skippy!
I freaking LOVE this. This week I have managed to run over a curb and blow a tire, concuss myself mildly on the way to a nail appointment, and slice my finger open on a broken wine glass. I feel like this is tipping my luck back to good!
Okay, that is just tres sucky, so I'm glad I could make you feel better even for a few minutes.
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Date: 2009-02-11 05:27 pm (UTC)You must rectify this immediately. For reals
::nods vehemently::
(I'm glad you liked the story :)
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Date: 2009-02-11 05:04 am (UTC)That is far too true.
This was lovely and I thank whichever deity is responsible for bad influences :)
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Date: 2009-02-11 05:12 pm (UTC)Me! MEEE! I am responsible for bad, terrible, awful influences. I'm terribly ashamed. I shall accept thanks and praise in the form of porn.
;)
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Date: 2009-02-11 05:07 am (UTC)I love how much you put into this fic.
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Date: 2009-02-11 05:40 pm (UTC)I think you may have conveyed the story better in 20 words than I did in 1000. I am so very pleased that you liked this so much. Thank you :)
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Date: 2009-02-12 08:30 am (UTC)"Are you nagging me, wife?" Brad teases.
Nate snorts. "If I was your wife, I'd be the best wife ever."
Brad grins. "The best slutty wife ever," he corrects, scratching his head, the sun glinting off of the silver ring on his left hand.
And they're even lampshading it! It just gets better and better...
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Date: 2009-02-12 05:58 pm (UTC)I think both Brad and Nate would object vociferiously to either one of them turning into a woman. I mean always thought that point of two men was that a woman didn't fit into that equation at the time. :)
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Date: 2009-02-12 11:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-12 05:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-14 02:51 am (UTC)It's amazing how fast she's gone from crawling and babbling to foot mobile and very vocal.
I have to use this line when my baby starts walking. I. Have. To.
"We could play Recon Marines,"
You win. That line wins. I'm now grinning ear to ear.
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Date: 2009-02-14 09:31 pm (UTC)I have to use this line when my baby starts walking. I. Have. To.
That line cracks me up, I admit it. When I was writing the story it just seemed a very Nate sort of thought.
I am so pleased you liked it!
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Date: 2009-03-04 04:16 am (UTC)Whatever, I've no idea, I just know it makes me squee.
Also, I dunno how I got this 5000 words and growing of GK porn-stars!AU on my computer, but I'm guessing you're probably kind of to blame.
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Date: 2009-03-29 02:57 pm (UTC)Haha! This fic is love and I'm really enjoying hunting all your fics down xD You're a great reader and can't wait for moar!!
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Date: 2011-08-16 07:46 pm (UTC)I don't know how to express all my feelings to you withyout you reporting me to the closest police station for harrasment. Uh. I love you? I love your fics? I've been reading all your fics one after another for past several days?
The way you catch characters, the glasses that Brad is wearing in your fics (so kinky, man!), the language - everything makes me happy and wanting more of your works!
All the best and much of love from the other side of the pond:)