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lettheladylead · 4 years ago

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Not Your Aunt

Chapter 3: Gladstone [ao3 link]

It’d been a year since Scrooge started regularly babysitting his niece and nephew. Goldie had only had the misfortune of interacting with them a handful of times, though one of those handfuls was a week-long bedridden visit where they asked too many questions and got way too attached to her. So before leaving, she stole from their piggy banks to teach them an important lesson: Goldie O’Gilt is not their family and she’s certainly not their aunt.

The next time she visited after that, the kids seemed properly sour and uninterested in her, so clearly they got the message. Or they just had a bad day. Either way, she could focus on Scrooge and treasure and then move on with her plans. She was able to visit without interacting with children a good half a dozen times after that, which really made her days go faster. It was nice.

She was stopping by in early February to grab some items she’d left behind (for safekeeping, of course) when Goldie learned that Scrooge’s family was continuing to...expand. There were now twice as many children in the mansion and the two new kids were apparently not deterred by Donald and Della’s attempts to warn them about their uncle’s thieving ex.

The kid in green found her in the foyer and lifted up his sunglasses to wink at her. “Well hello there!”

She blinked down at him. “...hello.”

He shuffled closer and stuck out his tiny little hand. “Gladstone Gander! And you are…?”

Goldie pinched his hand between two fingers and gave it a single shake before letting go. She didn’t appreciate the tone she was getting from this child who couldn’t have been more than eleven or twelve. “You can call me Miss O’Gilt.”

Gladstone pouted at her response and then shrugged before putting the sunglasses back. “Suit yourself. I’m a real catch!”

“I’m sure,” Goldie groaned. “Where’s Scrooge? I need to talk to him.”

The kid pointed towards the stairs. “Uncle Scrooge is in his office, I think.”

“Uncle?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Did Hortense have another kid or...are you Matilda’s?” The concept of Matilda having a child had Goldie immediately confused. She was pretty sure she knew that woman’s goals and motherhood was never on her list. They’d bonded over the lack of interest once in the past.

“Huh?” Gladstone tilted his head. “No, Auntie Hortense is married to Uncle Quackmore, who’s my mom’s brother. Who’s Matilda?”

Goldie closed her eyes and put two fingers to her temple as she felt a headache forming. She supposed if they stretched the definition enough, then Scrooge could be literally anyone’s uncle even if they had some gigantic distant relation to him. It was kind of annoying. “I guess she’s...also your aunt. You’ll probably meet her someday.” With that, Goldie turned around and started towards the stairs.

The kid followed her and she resisted the urge to punt him into another room. “So you know Uncle Scrooge and Auntie Hortense? Are you Uncle Scrooge’s secret wife?”

“No.” She didn’t even give him a glance as she headed up the stairs.

“Does that mean you’re single?” he asked with a toothy grin.

Goldie looked down at him again and then rolled her eyes. “You’re a bit young to be at this level of annoying.”

“Annoying?” Gladstone put a shocked hand to his chest and frowned. “You must be unlucky like Donald and Della. Only unlucky people call me annoying!”

Alright, that was a curious enough statement to make Goldie pause and lean against the banister. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Gladstone walked up another few steps so his head was about the same height as her’s. “I’m the luckiest goose in the world! Even luckier than my mom!”

Goldie quirked an eyebrow. “Luckiest in the world, huh? How would you know that?”

“I know that ‘cause...I’m Gladstone Gander!” He did a little spin and stuck his hands into his pockets before pulling out a dozen twenty dollar bills. “I found all of these just on my walk earlier!”

She stared at the money and, on reflex, plucked a few out of his hands. He didn’t even react as she pocketed them. “That’s pretty normal when you’re walking around Scrooge McDuck’s mansion, kid.”

He reached into his pockets again and pulled out another dozen bills. “No, no, these aren’t from Uncle Scrooge! I got these while walking around town!”

That caught her attention a bit more. Goldie pocketed a few more of the twenties before putting a hand against the bottom of her beak. “That does sound particularly lucky.”

He gave her a thumbs up, clearly happy that he’d convinced her of his gift, and Goldie thought about her plans for the weekend. She’d intended on grabbing a pair of earrings she’d left in Scrooge’s dresser and a mystical gem-finder he’d locked up in his Other Bin before heading to Macaw, but...perhaps she could use a partner. Well, more like a sidekick. Or a mascot.

“How would you like to go on a trip and really put your luck to the test?”

-----------------

Despite him being a very, very annoying little kid, Goldie had to admit that bringing him along was worth the frustrations.

She’d never done this well at the Galaxy Macaw, especially not at the slot machines. She could cheat her way through any old card game, but playing with other people brought too much attention to her presence. And the owner would be very unhappy if he saw she’d returned after what happened last time.

Her disguise wasn’t particularly artful - just a short black wig and green-tinted sunglasses - but it was enough to keep security from noticing her striking blonde amongst the sea of dark-haired birds around them. Gladstone managed to win a new little outfit for himself within a few minutes of entering the casino, and Goldie was happy that no one questioned the child’s presence. After a few wins at the slot machines, earning herself and her little partner a significant bit of cash, Goldie let the kid wander off on his own and started casing the place, getting ready for the actual reason for her travels.

“Miss O’Gilt?” Gladstone asked as he reappeared, tugging at her hand to get her attention.

“I told you not to use my last name here,” she hissed in response, glancing around to make sure no one overheard.

“Oh, right!” He tapped a finger against his chin. “So, then...Aunt Goldie, why exactly are we here? Not that I’m not having fun, but…this all seems kind of random.”

She held back a growl at the name - why did these kids always lean into the “aunt” moniker first? - and plopped her hand on top of his head. “Don’t worry about it. You should just keep having fun while I cash out and take care of some business.”

He shrugged. “Alright, but I bet I could help you with whatever you’re really here for! Uncle Scrooge never lets me help him find stuff ‘cause he says it’s cheating, but this is just how I live, y’know?”

Goldie removed her hand from his head and laid it on her hip. “I appreciate the offer, but this is something I need to take care of alone.” She glanced around the room and paused at the sight of a line of phone booths. “If I’m not back in a half hour, call your uncle to pick you up, alright?”

Gladstone followed her line of sight, then turned back to look up at her. “Are you doing something dangerous?”

“Hopefully not, but you never know.”

The kid pouted and leaned back on his heels. “...are you sure I can’t come with?”

Goldie crossed her arms over her chest. “Just stay here,” she said sternly, and quickly disappeared before Gladstone could follow.

He frowned and looked around himself. He knew nothing bad would happen to him, but it was still weird for an adult to leave him alone in a place so filled with strangers. Goldie was certainly unlike any other adults he’d spent time with, and he wasn’t at all surprised that Donald and Della had such conflicting feelings about her.

That being said, he could see a snack stand not too far away, so he rushed over to grab some pretzels. As soon as he arrived, the man running the stand gave him a big toothy smile, said he was the one thousandth customer of the day, and then handed him a giant pretzel for free.

It was nice being Gladstone Gander.

As he chomped away, a big banner above some of the slot machines caught his attention. In bright, bold letters he saw the words THE MACAW RUBY and more information about it being some rare, potentially mystical artifact that would be on display starting at 5 o’clock sharp.

He thought about that for a moment. From what he knew about Goldie, which wasn’t much but he’d understood the gist of it, she liked to steal things. Really cool, expensive, fancy things. He didn’t have to be a genius to put two and two together and realize she was after that ruby.

Whether or not she wanted his help, Gladstone decided he was going to be a part of this. After all, maybe the ruby would just come into his possession thanks to his luck! No one would need to steal anything, it would simply belong to him. And then he could give it to her and she’d give him a hug as thanks and who wouldn’t want that?

By the time he arrived at the place where the ruby was going to be displayed, it was only a few minutes to five and Gladstone took note of the extremely heavy security detail in front of the curtain. If Goldie hadn’t already gotten the ruby, there was no way she was going to get past all of them.

So he walked up to one of the guards and locked his hands behind his back. “Hi there!”

The guard looked down at him and didn’t respond.

“I’m Gladstone!”

Still no response.

Gladstone pouted, but he was pretty sure he could charm this guy into showing him the gem. “Can I see the fancy ruby?”

The guard made a face at him before turning to look at another guard and then proceeded to speak in a language that Gladstone didn’t recognize. He realized after a moment that it was probably Mandarin, which would make a lot of sense, considering where they were.

The other guard walked over and grabbed Gladstone by the back of his shirt, holding him up in front of his face. “Where’re your parents, kid? You shouldn’t be walking around here by yourself,” he said in a rough, heavy accent.

Gladstone frowned and crossed his arms. “I’m no kid! I’m just really short for my age! And I’ve won, like, fifty thousand dollars today, so you can’t tell me what to do!”

The guard frowned and his grip on Gladstone’s shirt tightened. “What’d you just say to me? I’m not in the mood for some brat and his-”

“Excuse me, sir,” a new voice called out.

All three boys looked over to see Goldie standing there, arms crossed and looking certainly unhappy, and with a purse over her shoulder that Gladstone didn’t remember being there when they’d arrived at the casino.

“That’s my nephew you’re manhandling, you oversized hog,” Goldie growled, reaching out and grabbing Gladstone so she could properly plop him down next to her. “You treat all your guests like this?”

The guard stood up straight and glared at her, pointing angrily towards Gladstone. “You might wanna teach your kid some manners, lady! He won’t be so lucky next time he pisses me off.”

“I’m sure that’s very difficult to do,” Goldie said with an eyeroll. “Come on, Gladdy, it’s time for us to go.”

Gladstone just nodded and took her hand. As they were leaving, a bunch of rich-looking snobs were walking in the opposite direction, probably excited to see the fancy gemstone that was about to be unveiled. He was pretty sure Goldie had already taken it and it was sitting in her bag right by his face. Though he wondered if she replaced it with a fake or if things were about to go crazy in this casino.

A moment later and Gladstone turned his head at the sound of an announcer and some clapping and a stunned silence and then an audience-wide gasp. Goldie clutched his hand a little tighter at the sound of the gasp and he noticed she’d picked up a tiny bit of speed.

With her walking faster, he fell behind her and looked up to see a shocking and unfortunate sight: a few strands of long blonde hair had fallen out from under her wig and were completely visible to anyone who could see her back. He opened his mouth to say something when he was cut off by the loudest scream he’d ever heard from someone that wasn’t Donald.

“IT’S GOLDIE O’GILT! GET HER BEFORE SHE GETS AWAY!”

Suddenly Gladstone was picked up and being held in Goldie’s arms as she quickly exited the building and ran towards the nearest available taxi. He didn’t even have a second to breathe before she had the driver heading towards the airport as fast as he could go.

She tore off the wig and sunglasses and shoved them into her bag, which Gladstone noticed didn’t seem to get any bigger as she did. He looked into it and saw what seemed to be some sort of endless vortex. Neat!

Goldie laughed and patted his head. “Good job out there, kid. That was fun,” she said as she reached into the bag and pulled out another wig - this time it was brown and wavy. It seemed she was prepared for the possibility that someone might try following her.

“Thanks, Aunt Goldie,” he responded with a smirk, remembering how much that name annoyed her earlier. “So where’s my cut of the profits?”

She raised an eyebrow at him and clearly looked like she was about to laugh at his question. “Why don’t we focus on getting you home before we talk about that?”

Gladstone put a hand to his chin in thought. Really, money wasn’t an issue for him. He found money all the time, and even when he didn’t, his parents had plenty of money of their own. But he did feel like Goldie owed him for all his help. “Okay, sure.”

-------------------------------------

First their taxi driver gave them a free ride because he was in such a good mood, then their plane tickets ended up being free thanks to a clerical error, and they were given a free ride from the airport to Scrooge’s mansion because who the hell could keep track of all the reasons why things were free? Goldie was certainly enjoying the perks of carrying around Scrooge’s little luck magnet. If she didn’t have places to be, she’d stop by his office and yell at him for not telling her about the kid sooner.

That being said, he was starting to get a little too attached and it was bugging the hell out of her.

“So when are you gonna visit again? We could go to another casino!” Gladstone said excitedly, bouncing in his seat. “Or some other place you’d need my luck for. An underground poker game, maybe?”

Goldie chuckled and leaned back, recognizing the area the taxi turned into as only a few blocks from Scrooge’s place. “Look, kid -”

“Gladstone!”

“...right. Gladstone. This has been lots of fun, but you shouldn’t get confused. I’m not a part of your family, I’m not gonna just stop by and visit and take you on trips all the time. I just conveniently already had plans to go somewhere where I’d benefit from some luck.”

He frowned. “So this is it? You’re just done with me now?”

“Well…” She shrugged. “I don’t like to limit myself. Who knows what the future will hold? I just wouldn’t get your hopes up or plan for me coming back anytime soon.”

Gladstone pouted again and let out a quiet hmph! before turning to look out the window. They’d arrived at the front gate of Uncle Scrooge’s house and he’d decided he was just about ready to leave.

They came to a stop and Gladstone quickly opened up the door and stepped outside, stretching dramatically and yawning. He turned to say something to Goldie when he was cut off by a loud, familiar screech.

“THERE HE IS!”

Gladstone turned to see Donald and Uncle Scrooge running towards him from down the sidewalk. He was very confused to see that they’d gone for a walk instead of hanging around the house, since they never wanted to go for walks when he was in the mood.

“Hi, Uncle Scrooge-”

Scrooge ran over and swept Gladstone up in a giant hug. “We’ve been lookin’ everywhere for you, lad! Where’ve you been? What did you…” Scrooge’s words faded out as he noticed the familiar smirk staring at him from the inside of a taxi.

“Hey there, hun.”

“G-Goldie?!” Scrooge looked at her and then down at Gladstone and then back up at her. “Did you take him?!”

“Sure did,” she responded with a shrug. “I left you a note in your office. You should really pay more attention to these things.”

Donald just watched this conversation with a frown. He wanted to assume that Aunt Goldie was lying about leaving a note, but he also knew that Uncle Scrooge definitely didn’t check and just assumed the worst when they couldn’t find Gladstone all day. He’d been screaming about how Daphne was going to kill him for losing her son, but it seems he didn’t lose anyone at all.

Scrooge sputtered angrily at Goldie, holding Gladstone against his legs and trying to find his words. “You-! You...you kidnapped him!”

“I did no such thing, you old miser. He wanted to come along,” Goldie said, glaring angrily. She turned towards her cabby and said something that the boys couldn’t hear, then the car started to drive away.

Scrooge glared right back until Gladstone, a few moments later, shook himself out of Scrooge’s grip and ran towards the car. “Wait! But-! What about my profits?!” he shouted as it turned onto the next street over.

Gladstone sighed, realizing his luck wasn’t gonna bring his money back to him. Though he guessed he still had a really fun time and he didn’t exactly need the money, so maybe that was enough. He looked up to see Uncle Scrooge staring down at him. “What’s up?”

“Should I be concerned about this?” Scrooge asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Gladstone shrugged. “Should I be concerned that a stranger came into your house and took me on a trip across the globe without you knowing about it?”

That one shut Scrooge up, and he huffed before turning around and heading back to the manor. Gladstone looked over at Donald who just seemed to be confused.

“What’s wrong, Donald-o?”

He frowned and shrugged. “I’m just surprised that Aunt Goldie took you on a trip, is all. She’s never taken me or Della anywhere.”

Gladstone slapped Donald on the back a little harder than he meant to, making the slightly younger duck quack. “Eh, I wouldn’t think too hard about it. Ladies can’t resist my charm, after all!”

Donald rolled his eyes. “You know she’s Uncle Scrooge’s girlfriend, right?”

“Huh?” Gladstone put a hand to his chin and thought about some things Goldie had said to him over the past twenty-four hours. He nodded slowly. “You know what? That makes a lot of sense. Yup, yup. That explains everything.”

“So happy for you,” Donald mumbled and started the long walk back to the manor.

Gladstone quickly caught up to him and smiled brightly. In fact, he just wouldn’t stop smiling at his cousin. He was smiling so much that it was making Donald even more irritated than he’d already been.

“What?”

“Don’t you wanna know about my trip?”

#ducktales #goldie o'gilt #gladstone gander #donald duck #scrooge mcduck #not your aunt #fic #fics

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descendantofthesparrow · 4 years ago

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Encore - Harry Hook x reader - Part 17 - bday present for myself~

Harry cursed to himself, the island he was going to use to propose to (y/n) on was some sanctuary for an endangered species and the wildlife preserves didn’t want humans on the island. So he would have to figure out something else for his propos…wait…her birthday was next week! And he had been wanting to do a surprise party for her, and Gil had suggested a scavenger hunt for her to do to keep her busy.

He already had the ring, permission to marry her from her aunt, and the knowing that if he asked, she would say yes…

All he had to do was add one more thing.

You sighed, setting down the heavy crate, wiping sweat from your neck as you stood. “gods, why does it gotta be so warm today” you groaned, undoing the colling towel from your belt and tossing it on your face “aahhhh that’s the good stuff~”

“(y/n) what are you doing?” you took off the towel and tossed it around your neck, sighing as the heat on your neck finally decreased.

“cooling down, it's like 95 out here” you complained, turning to look at Bonnie, who was holding two cold waterbottles “oohhhh fuckin-thank you!” she snorted and tossed one to you, you caught It in mid-air and cracked it open, gulping down the cold drink.

“slow down girl” Bonnie chuckled, cracking opening her bottle and starting to drink “oh, happy birthday by the way” you burped and grinned at her.

“Thanks, Bonnie,” you blinked in surprise as she handed you a note. “oh, thank-“

“yeah yeah, see you later girl” Bonnie trotted off deck, soon walking out of sight. You shrugged and tore open the paper.

It was Harry's handwriting.

-hello my bonnie lass~ today is your birthday and I wanted to celebrate it by giving you a scavenger hunt to your party today

It will be from the isle to Auradon, no stone left unturned.

Now go to the place, where our first meeting occurred.

You pursed your lips, tilting your head, where you first met huh? Well, that would be on the isle. You closed the note and stuffed it in your pocket, heading to your cabin for a moment to change your clothes, grab your bag, and your motorbike keys.

You looked around the slightly collapsed building, where you had originally met harry, after the chase between the gaston twins and you.

“oh,” you gasped, kneeling next to a large chunk of building and pulling out an envelope beneath it. Standing up you leaned against the wall and opened the note, a small bracelet falling out with it, golden painted seashells and opals danced across the metal, you slipped it on and read the note.

-you found it lass, now in the spot where the stars shine bright, the place I realized my heart was yours that night.

You groaned slightly, a smile on your face, he was being cheesy with these hints, but his rhyming wasn’t bad.

But you knew exactly where he was talking about, the hiding spot.

You took off your shoes, walking along the shore of the small inlet. You took a deep breath, the air much cleaner than the first time you had been here.

You spotted the white envelope holding the next clue, you trotted over and pulled it out, smiling at the long thin box underneath it. You pulled the box and opened it, clicking your tongue and tilting your head.

A new golden chain for your ruby necklace. You closed the box and slipped it into your bag, opening the note you laughed at the twin's messy handwriting.

-hi aunt (y/n)! harry let us write this note! -skipper

-so the next clue is “where you joined the crew”-sterling

“that’s an easy one” you snorted, but you couldn’t give them crap, they were only 12. So you walked the short distance from the hidden beach to the chip shop, nodding to the patrons as you entered.

“Hey (y/n) Hook left this for ya” Cook handed you the letter and a small bag, you grinned and nodded. “happy birthday by the way”

“Thanks, cook, see you later” you walked out of the shop and leaned on the docks outside. Opening the bag you snorted at the new leather gloves inside, small painted designs on the leather.

“such a dork” you whispered, taking out the note and grinning at it.

-another job well done my love, now for the place were we spar, and we “hit” it off

You groaned and rubbed your forehead, you remembered that…your head still hurt after that day.

You stepped onto the old lost revenge, even with Umas magic, it had been unable to sail again, so now it was used as an isle home for the crew. Desiree grinned, holding up the note and another small bag.

“hey, commander~ happy birthday!”

“Thanks, Desiree” you chirped, grabbing the note and bag from her “you can go ahead and do what you’re supposed to do after you give me this”

“Thanks, girl, see you later!” she hopped off the rails and walked off the ship, going through the tunnel to the bridge.

You opened the bag to see a scarlet headband with silver hook embroidered into the side, you slipped it on and opened the note.

-hope Desiree didn’t just leave the present unattended for you to find but! This next clue is just across the border, when I got to hold you in my arms once again.

Alright, to the bridge it is.

You stepped across where the magic barrier used to be, looking to your left, seeing a small stone holding down a note.

You walked over and picked it up, seeing no mini present. Opening it up you smiled.

-sorry love no present with this one, too risky for someone to take it, but this next one will be where we walked into Auradon together for the first time

Alright then, so just the other side of the bridge. Turning around you walked back to your motorbike and swung your leg over the seat and started the engine. You quickly strapped your helmet on and drove to the other side of the bridge.

You tilted your head at Evie, who smiled and waved at you, holding out a note “hey (y/n)! happy birthday! Here you go!” you dismounted your bike and met her halfway, nodding at her.

“Thanks, Evie, see you later” she nodded and ran off, presumably to your “surprise” party. Opening the note you chuckled.

-astute as always love (though im not really making these hard am I?) but the next is where I learned I wouldn’t be ripped from your arms for the second time

The courtyard of Bens castle, where you and Harry had gotten the keys from Persephone. You got back on your bike and rode off through the bridge gate to Auradon, making the 15 minute trip to bens castle.

“hey beasty boy!” you called, waving to the king who was just exiting his castle “you probably got something for me don’t cha?”

He shrugged “maybe? Dunno- ow” you punched his shoulder and held out your hand “okay okay here, I’ll see you later (y/n)” he handed you the next note and walked off, but you didn’t bother to pay attention where.

You ripped open the envelope, once more smiling at Harry's handwriting.

-Final clue my love, where we stepped through to our new life

That one made you think for a moment before it hit you. The door, the very first door you and harry stepped through to get to your world.

But you don’t remember a room behind it? Which it probably did but who knows. Good news was the door was in Bens castle so you unlipped your helmet and hung it off one of the handles, walking through the gates and making your way through the castle.

You stood in front of the door, looking at the small note taped to it.

-happy birthday (y/n)

You took a breath and opened the door, laughing as the room burst with streamers and confetti.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!”

The entire crew, the core four, Ben, Jane, Lonnie, even Audrey was there, blowing horns and throwing confetti in the air, screaming in your face.

“guys!” you whipped a stray tear from your cheek “awwww…ive never been thrown a surprise party before!”

“Really?” Jane gasped “why not?!”

You shrugged, “dunno, guys people from my world aren’t as amazing as you guys”

“aw thanks” Evie sniffed, smiling at something behind you. You rose your brow at her and turned around, gasping and stumbling back.

“H-Harry?! Wha-“ Harry stood infront of you, a clean dark red suit fitted on his body, his hair combed back yet still in that wild style you loved, his eyeliner clean.

“(y/n), yeh have been the light of meh life for the past two years, since yeh fell into my life. Yeh have saved me from becoming a dark bitter person hell-bent on revenge, yeh have saved me from my da, yeh have protected meh family” oh gods you were already crying “and eh have both given and helped meh love, and I want to spend the rest of meh life with yeh, and love yeh for the rest of meh life, so” he kneeled on one knee, taking out a red velvet box from his pocket and opening it, revealing his mothers red ruby ring, in a brand new golden band with small bits of sea glass running down the sides “will you marry me-“ you fell to your knees, tears streaming down your face, unable to talk.

You let out incomprehensible babbles and nodded, leaping into Harry's arms and wrapping your arms around his neck “Im guessing it’s a yes” Harry chuckled, pulling you back and smiling, tears brimming in his eyes.

“yes” you croaked “yes I will marry you, you giant dork” Harry laughed but you shut him up quickly, pressing your lips to his.

Harry hummed into the kiss, lifting you slightly and tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

“Alright alright” Carlos chuckled, walking over and patting Harry's shoulder “wed rather not see you two do it right in front of us please”

Harry separated from you and glared at Carlos “shut it up, let me enjoy this” he muttered, smiling at you and helping you stand, sliding the ruby ring onto your ring finger.

He kissed you again, bringing up your hand and kissing it “happy birthday my love”

“I love you Harry” you whispered, still whipping away your tears.

“I love you too (y/n)”

--end of part 17--

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#descendants #Descendents #disney descendants #harry hook #harry hook descendants #harry hook x reader #harry hook imagine

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freebooter4ever · 4 years ago

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Ice Cream And An Apology

Eugene drags his bff Snafu on a vacation to Los Angeles six years after Snafu left him on that train. They end up on Santa Monica beach where they finally admit they might be in love, and it might've been brewing for a long while, and wow are they clueless sometimes. Ace Eugene and Snaf, written for @skelesocks who makes the best Ace Eugene content around, thank you! And who was sad that I made Eugene cry, so here is me making him feel better through Snafu. (their vacation date includes a tiki hut, ice cream, swing dancing, secret cliffside hotels)(I took all the parts I do like about living in LA and put them here)(the ballroom existed but it's torn down now, the hotel is a real place I stumbled on while hiking way too far down the beach but it's actually a 1930's pool building called Palos Verdes Athletic Club)(with bonus historical photos cause I'm a fucking nerd)

Two years into grad school Eugene decides he needs a proper vacation. The only reason Snafu knows this is because Eugene also decides Snafu is the person he's gonna vacation with. And apparently Snafu has no say in this decision.

A very curt letter arrives one spring afternoon with a time, a date, and the address of the New Orleans railroad station, as if Snafu needed to be told where that is. Granted, Snafu's track record in being responsive and easy to reach is perhaps not the best, but Gene's known that for years. Snafu doesn't know what's changed with this particular meet up.

He's also a little resentful of the fact that Eugene thinks he can snap his fingers and Snafu will drop everything on a dime and come running. Mostly Snafu resents this on account of how true it is. Six years after the war and Snafu still can't let go.

So Snafu shows up at the train station, right on time, with his duffel packed tight, and his hat a little jaunty.

Eugene steps off the train with his ticket book in hand. He looks right and left, like he can't see Snafu standing a mere three feet in front of him. It must be the hat.

"You lost, Sledgehammer?" Snafu asks.

Eugene's eyes finally find his. Snafu's heart drops out of his chest, and he suddenly remembers why he made his original vow years ago to walk away and never see anybody again.

"Shelton?" Eugene asks, like he can't quite believe his eyes, and the formality stings.

"Miss me?" Snafu smirks.

Eugene doesn't answer. He simply walks up to Snafu, shoulder's Snafu's bag, and climbs back onto the train.

Snafu follows - like fucking always.

Eugene shoves Snafu's duffel into the luggage racks already almost stacked full, and guides Snafu to a private compartment.

Snafu glances admiringly at the plush seats and curtained windows, and whistles, "Adjunct professors must make quite a bit of money these days."

"I'm paying both your way and my way on this trip, so...yes," Eugene says, and Snafu knows it's non negotiable. No matter how many times Snafu offers, Eugene never accepts repayment.

"The truth is…" Eugene says that night after they've converted their plush seats into a bed, "...not making much money doesn't matter so much when you don't use it. I don't go out, I don't do anything, my parents pay my rent. What else am I going to spend it on?"

Snafu shrugs. A lot of things pop into his mind, but it's true Eugene never goes out so Snafu doesn't want to discourage this change. Eugene is the most boring college student ever. Snafu knows because he makes the drive from New Orleans to Auburn every weekend. And every weekend is the same, they spend most of the time lying around Sledge's dorm - Eugene studying and Snafu reading his latest murder mystery novel.

He supposes the sacrifice of Eugene's social life might have been worth it, though, if it meant being able to pay for the sleeper car. Because that night on the train when Eugene wakes Snafu with a yell, there are no prying eyes to judge them. Snafu wraps his arms around Eugene's shoulders in the privacy of their bunk and holds him till he calms down.

Sometimes Snafu wonders who does this for Eugene during the week, on the nights Snafu's not there.

"I just don't sleep those nights," Eugene whispers in the dark, his voice barely audible over the clacking of the train tracks.

Snafu squeezes him tighter. Eugene's back is pressed against Snafu's chest, and Snafu's nose is in Eugene's hair. And sometimes Snafu worries he might be crazy, but he also swears that the smell of Eugene's neck is the only thing capable of stopping Snafu's own nerves from jumping out of his skin. He'll never admit to Eugene how selfish he is. That Snafu doesn't keep dropping everything to run to his side out of some altruistic need to please. No.

Snafu's fucking addicted to the boy in his arms and he can't let go. No matter how much it hurts.

Plus they aren't boys anymore. Eugene is twenty eight, and Snafu is thirty, and he keeps waiting and waiting for Eugene to grow up and leave him behind but it hasn't happened yet.

It takes four days for the train to reach Los Angeles. It's hot - so fucking hot, Snafu wonders why Eugene picked summer of all times to vacation here, but the dry wind and brilliant blue sky is still a relief compared to the sticky humidity of home. He can kinda see why people come out here, even if the baking sun also makes him feel a little like a raisin.

Eugene rents a car. An unnecessary expense in Snafu's mind. The car even has a swamp cooler, which at first Snafu decries as the most absurd waste of cash. But then he presses his face to the passenger window to watch the rocket-like thing work. And sure, he can't feel the wind on his face anymore, but damn if the air in the car doesn't become more bearable faster.

Eugene watches Snafu and just smiles.

The outside heat cools off the closer they get to the coast. Snafu has no idea where Eugene is taking them. Perhaps that's why Eugene invites him everywhere, because he never asks questions. Honestly Eugene could take him anywhere in the world and it'd still be something, simply because it's with Eugene. Except caves. Snafu doesn't mess with caves.

They park in a giant lot, and when Snafu opens the car door he hears the familiar sound of gulls and the ocean. All around his head, though, are two story buildings - not a horizon line in sight. They must still be in the city. But then they turn a corner, walk two blocks down the street, and there it is: the Santa Monica pier.

The hippodrome catches the eye first. Then Snafu sees the long line stretching down a checkerboard walkway. The crowd of people ends at the mirrored doors and box office of the Aragon Ballroom. Something must be happening for it to be so busy in the middle of a random saturday. The crowd is young too, mostly teenagers. Snafu feels old, looking at them.

Snafu stares at the ballroom for a minute and then leers at Eugene. "You taking me dancing?" He asks.

"No," Eugene says, "I don't dance." He turns away from the gigantic world famous dancehall hanging over the ocean on spindly legs, and starts walking down the boardwalk.

Snafu hurries to catch up.

They clamber down tall wooden steps to get to the beach. Snafu touches one and ends up with a splinter in his hand, naturally. He's too busy trying to pick the damn thing out of his finger to notice when Eugene stops. Snafu collides with his back.

Eugene balances precariously at the edge of the bottom step, leaving only a little room for Snafu to squish in behind him. Snafu leans his chin on Eugene's shoulder and tries to figure out what is on the ground that Eugene's so intently marveling at.

"Gene?" Snafu slips his arm underneath Eugene's elbow and wiggles his hand in front of Eugene's face, "Your pa's the doctor."

"What?" Eugene asks in confusion as if brought out of a trance.

"Splinter," Snafu explains.

Eugene very carefully pries the long skinny splinter out of Snafu's finger. And then he goes back to staring down at his feet.

"What are we waiting for?" Snafu asks. He places his hands on either side of Eugene's hips and tries to remain patient.

"An engraved invitation," Eugene intones. He bends over to untie his Chuck Taylors and pull them off.

"That's just asking for splinters," Snafu points out when Eugene's socks come off next.

Eugene leaves his socks neatly tucked into his shoes on the wooden plank and steps into the sand.

Snafu, being more familiar with thievery, hastily threads the shoelaces through his own belt loop and then ties Eugene's two shoes together to hang off his hip. His own shoes stay on as he traipses after Eugene. Snafu's had enough sand between his toes to last him a lifetime.

It doesn't take long to catch up to Eugene. When Snafu reaches him, Eugene is breathing shallowly and clenching his fists, staring at the rolling ocean waves and the handful of beachgoers. To the casual observer, Eugene would appear to be enjoying the view, but Snafu sees the tension. Snafu sidles up to Eugene and leans against his shoulder.

"I thought it would feel different," Eugene says. His voice is calm, he looks calm, but he's anything but. Snafu knows the feeling all too well.

"C'mon," Snafu slips his hand into Eugene's and tugs him away from the shore, "Let's get off the sand."

They make it back to the boardwalk and Snafu gives Eugene back his shoes.

Eugene smiles at him gratefully, and that grin with those eyes is precisely the reason Snafu's always here. And in this case 'here' means 'by Eugene's side come hell or high water.'

Eugene smiles, and Snafu shrugs it off, and lets Eugene use his shoulder to steady himself while he puts his shoes back on one-handed. Those smiles make Snafu want to kiss them off Eugene's face to get rid of them. They're altogether too kind, altogether too caring, and it just worsens the already deep hole Snafu's dug himself.

They walk down the boardwalk for a short distance, eyeing the push carts, and the souvenir stalls, and the hot dog stands that look suspiciously crusty.

"Those aren't for you," Snafu says, pushing Eugene along by the small of his back when the boy lingers a little too long in front of a cheesy sign with a cartoon corn dog dancing on a stick. The dog has eyes, and looks way too happy about being eaten.

"What, why not?" Eugene asks.

"They're un-hi-Gene-ic," Snafu drawls.

"Oh god," Eugene casts his eyes to the sky.

"It's in the name, no Gene's allowed," Snafu adds.

"I got the joke, Snafu," Eugene says.

The next food stand they come to is a tiki hut. There's no other way to describe it. It's the tackiest thing Snafu's ever seen. Snafu hears about the 'tiki' craze sweeping the nation after all the boys came home from the south pacific. He sees advertisements using the motifs in the magazines at the mechanic shop he works for.

The tiki design is always heavily stylized, and completely fake, and so fucking ugly it makes Snafu's eyes hurt.

He turns to Eugene, and their eyes meet. There's a rush of shared knowing between them, it sends Snafu tingling down to his toes, and a genuine smile breaks out onto his face, and before he knows it they're both laughing. They lean against each other, giggling helplessly at this silly simulacrum of the islands they were trapped on for so long.

"Four nights on a train for this, Gene?" Snafu teases.

Eugene slings an arm around Snafu's waist to steady him and, still laughing, they wobble over to peer at the menu tacked against the entrance to the hut.

"Coconut ice cream," Snafu reads with exaggerated admiration.

Eugene shudders violently, and Snafu can feel it through his body. "I can't stand the smell of coconut," Eugene whines, "All those coconuts on Pavuvu, buried in the sand, rotting with that inescapable stench."

Snafu shakes his head, "You're missing out."

"Nope," Eugene insists and breaks away from Snafu, "We're not eating here. I would rather eat the No-Gene's-Allowed dancing corn dog."

"I bet by the end of this trip I'll get you eating coconut ice cream," Snafu calls.

"Not happening," Eugene calls back, making his point by already walking away.

Snafu eyes the coconut tiki shack, eyes Gene, and starts plotting.

Blissfully ignorant, and completely confident in his ability to talk Snafu into or out of anything, Eugene continues down the boardwalk.

Meanwhile, Snafu's attention is captured next by the neat row of bicycles at the very end of the small line of makeshift booths. The bicycles are clean, and shiny, with pastel baskets and sparkling handlebar bells, and colorful seats with clean, bright stitching. The kind of bicycles Snafu dreamed of when he was a kid. He slows to a crawl as they pass by and eventually stops, unable to resist going over and putting his hands on one.

Snafu rings the bell and chuckles.

He glances up and Eugene is smiling at him again in that overly fond way that says Snafu could probably get away with practically anything right now.

So, they end up renting two bikes. Snafu's is a mint blue with a grey basket. He pulls his shoes off and drops them into said basket to ride barefoot. The spikey plastic pedals feel hot and firm underneath Snafu's feet. Eugene's bike is a reddish salmon color with a burnt orange basket that when combined with the sun glinting off Eugene's red hair, makes him strike a truly imposing figure.

Snafu laughs about this for at least five minutes straight before they get on their way. He wishes he brought a camera. There's one slung around Eugene's neck, but Eugene blushes and refuses Snafu's request to use it.

"If I can't take embarrassing photos of you with it, what's the point of even having it?" Snafu demands.

Eugene still refuses.

Snafu sticks his tongue out at Eugene and takes the lead on the bicycles. It's incredibly easy to ride along the flat beach. The path isn't paved, and is a little rough, but half the time Snafu is standing on his pedals as he rides, so he hardly notices. Occasionally he looks back to make sure Gene is keeping up.

The only time he loses track of Eugene is when they're pedaling through a dilapidated old pier. Snafu banks a slight curve and notices Eugene isn't appearing around the shops and buildings behind him. He circles back around to find Eugene stopped and straddling his bicycle, looking towards the ocean.

Snafu pulls up alongside him and eyes him quizzically.

"It's two men…" Eugene nods at a couple making out on a beach blanket in the distance, "I saw them walking out there. The one with long hair isn't a girl, he's a guy."

Snafu looks at the couple passionately embracing, and then at Eugene's expression. "Shocking," Snafu says sarcastically, "Scandalous."

"You don't seem surprised," Eugene says.

"I live in New Orleans," Snafu replies, "Not all of us spent most our lives in hicktown Alabama."

"Mobile is not a hicktown," Eugene scowls.

"Stop staring at them, Gene," Snafu warns and nods at the couple, "They might give you a show." He rides off, this time determined to leave Eugene in the dust.

Snafu keeps going on his bicycle for a few hours. They're forced to make a brief detour around a marina, but they end up back on an oceanfront path, and continue on pedaling until suddenly the beach abruptly ends. The sand narrows off into rocks, and rising high above them are towering cliffs.

Eugene coasts to a stop next to Snafu and puts his foot down to rest. He's breathing hard. All that studying and not enough manual labor.

"Guess we're continuing on foot from here," Snafu suggests casually.

Eugene huffs in disbelief, "You're joking."

"Four nights on a train…" Snafu smirks, "I ain't stopping yet."

They bring the bikes back to the nearest beach facilities and lock them up in a rack, then set off across the rocks. At first it's fairly easy, there is a dirt path running directly beneath the cliff face but slightly above the worst of the jagged rocky beach. They've climbed over much worse during the war.

Eugene is an unenthusiastic hiking partner, however. They pass by a beautiful stucco building nestled into the cliffs with a high wall and flanked by old fashioned lamps. Eugene stares longingly at the NCAA sized swimming pool behind the wall.

"Later," Snafu promises him, and leads him on.

The rocks turn a little more treacherous past the wall, and eventually it gets to the point that even Snafu is carefully picking his way across rock by rock. He climbs hand and foot up to the base of the cliff and expertly assesses the narrow ledge leading across a plunging chut to the next rocky beach. The chute is roughly four feet long and ends in churning water. The waves are coming in, crashing against the rocks and zipping up the chute to lap at the ledge. Snafu puts one shoe on the ledge and wiggles it around to test his grip.

"Snaf," Eugene pleads from the rocks below, "I can't…"

Snafu stares down at him unblinkingly. And then turns and starts to walk carefully across the ledge. He makes it to the other side and leaps over the rocky outcrop.

"Merriell!" Eugene cries.

Snafu can no longer see him. After vaulting the end of the ledge he lands on another rocky beach, and in the distance he sees another point where the rocks give way to cliffs. Snafu clambers on tirelessly, but the path soon becomes all but impassable. He's reached the farthest point he can go. Eventually he gives up and turns around.

He climbs back onto the taller rock sticking out from the ledge and sits down on the top to watch the waves break against the rock's front edge. Below him and across the chasm, Eugene sits huddled on his own rock, intently watching the waves. Eugene ignores Snafu's return.

"Eugene?" Snafu calls softly.

Eugene's head jerks up and he looks at Snafu with a painful mixture of worry and anger. "What the hell, Snafu?" Eugene yells, "You jump over the other side and don't answer me for a half hour? I had no way of knowing if you slipped, or fell, or hit your head, or drowned…" Eugene's voice wavers.

"You could'a followed," Snafu argues.

"I cannot cross that ledge," Eugene snaps back, "Not all of us have your super human climbing abilities. You shouldn't go on alone...what if you ended up in the water?"

"Gene, I'm a good swimmer," Snafu says dismissively.

Eugene shakes his head at him in exasperation. "Fuck you, Shelton," he says, and he clearly means it. He turns back to the waves splashing at his feet and rubs his hand into his eye.

Which is when Snafu notices something odd.

He toes back across the ledge and hops down to the rock next to Eugene's to confirm his suspicions. Snafu tilts his head and scoots as close as Eugene will let him.

"Gene?" Snafu prompts gently, "Are you crying?"

Eugene screws his face up and presses his chin against his knees. He's clearly about to start crying in the way anyone starts to cry when they're feeling on the verge and someone asks them about it.

Snafu hastily stands and closes the last few inches between them. He crouches next to Eugene and puts his arm around Gene's shoulders.

"This was a mistake," Eugene breathes.

"I'm sorry," Snafu says. He leans his head in close to Eugene's and leans his weight against him in hopefully a comforting manner.

Eugene shakes his head and a brief sob chokes his next words, "I can't…." he pauses to catch his breath, "I can't do this anymore."

"Then we'll leave," Snafu suggests, "You've got a car. We'll drive out to the desert. You can draw some cacti."

"No, Snaf," Eugene says quietly, his voice goes almost calm, "I mean I can't do this anymore with you."

Snafu stands when he hears those words.

Eugene shivers and starts crying anew.

"You're gonna leave me stuck here without even a train ticket home?" Snafu's mind immediately jumps to how much bus fare will cost, and whether he's got enough cash on him or if he'll have to pick up some odd jobs before he catches the first train back.

"No!" Eugene exclaims, angry again, "I would never do that to you."

"Then what, Gene?" Snafu asks, his own voice rising.

"You can't keep leaving me like this," Eugene insists.

"I just jumped over a goddamn ledge…"

"You left!" Eugene tilts his face up to Snafu and hurtles the accusation at him, "You left without a goodbye and…"

"I came back!" Snafu interrupts.

"Not for my wedding," Eugene says sullenly.

"Nor for Burgie's," Snafu waves it away with a gesture.

"I'm not Burgie!" Eugene declares.

"I came back for your divorce!" Snafu counters.

Eugene drops his head onto his arms.

"For fuck's sake, Eugene haven't you cried over her enough?" Snafu sighs. He climbs back onto the ledge and scoots across over to the jutting rock to put some space between him and Eugene, "It's been four years. You barely knew each other."

"I'm not crying over Edna," Eugene protests sourly and sniffles snot back into his nose.

"Can't imagine why you two didn't work out," Snafu rolls his eyes and swings his legs over the edge of the rock to dangle above the crashing waves, "With names like Edna and Eugene."

A very slight smile tugs at the corner of Eugene's mouth. "E squared," he says.

"She's probably better off," Snafu offers, "No longer saddled with the terrible mouthful 'Edna Sledge'."

"You're one to talk, Merriell," Eugene points out.

"Merriell Sledge has a nice ring to it," Snafu goads him.

"I like Eugene Shelton better," Eugene jokes back.

"Thought you said you were done with me," Snafu says, unable to prevent his big mouth from opening.

Eugene looks up at him with the meanest glare he's ever seen.

It slowly, slowly starts to dawn on Snafu that he might be the reason Eugene Sledge is crying.

That comes as a shock. Snafu takes a moment to think back on his life and all the times he might've made someone cry. And not because he shoved some bully or asshole into the dirt. It's a very short list. One of his earliest memories is visiting his grandma as a child. She cried when he left, and hugged him for longer than he's ever been hugged in his life. His parents died, but they weren't the crying type anyway. His baby sister stopped crying after their parents' deaths. Even when Snafu enlisted, she didn't shed a tear.

And absolutely none of the men Snafu formed attachments to were the crying type either. Till Eugene, till now.

But Snafu can't imagine why Eugene is crying over him. He answered the extremely self-pitying letter Eugene penned in the weeks after Eugene's divorce, he's spent every weekend with Eugene since to keep him company, he tries to be there for whatever Eugene needs. Eugene's got no fucking reason to cry because of him.

Eugene's crying like Snafu broke his heart, except there's no possible way Eugene could care about him that deeply. This love Snafu's got going is a one way street, and he's careful to keep it that way.

Snafu digs into his pocket and pulls out a rather beat up carton of cigarettes. He calmly lights one and tosses the rest to Eugene. Eugene holds the carton like it's something precious.

"Sledgehammer," Snafu says, "Just tell me what you want."

Eugene takes a deep breath to steady himself. He grips the paper cigarette carton hard till it crinkles. "I think I want what those two guys on the beach have…" Eugene tells the waves. And then looks to Snafu for some sort of validation, "...but with you."

Snafu smokes his cigarette and tries to remember there's a ten foot gulf with choppy waves between them and launching himself across it is not physically possible.

"And this is why I can't keep doing this anymore, Snaf," Eugene says when Snafu doesn't answer his request. Eugene turns back to the rocks below his feet and says with great frustration, "Our friendship means everything to me, but it's killing me."

Those last words weigh heavy on Snafu's conscience. "Okay, Gene," he says, "We'll finish out this vacation, and then I promise you'll never have to see me again."

Eugene swallows hard. He squeezes his eyes shut and buries his head in his arms once more, so he doesn't have to see Snafu right now.

Snafu makes his way over the ledge for the last time and carefully places a hand on Eugene's trembling shoulder. "C'mon," he says kindly, "Let's get back to the bikes."

Eugene twines his hand with Snafu's. Snafu bends down, braces Eugene's arm with his own, and helps him stand. Eugene sways into Snafu's chest and for a minute their faces are too close together for comfort. But neither of them are looking at each other. And Eugene isn't smiling, so it makes it easy for Snafu to deny the kiss and pull away.

Eugene's horribly quiet as they make their way back over the rocky beach. He pauses before they pass the wall with the swimming pool.

Snafu looks back questioningly.

"I'm hungry," Eugene announces, "You made me ride my bike for three hours, then scramble over rocks for two. This place looks nice, it's hygienic, there's no palm fronds or fake tiki statues. We're stopping here."

Snafu eyes the iron gate skeptically. The lock is hanging loose and the gate is ajar, but only because a few people from the private pool are swimming in the ocean nearby.

"You object?" Eugene asks stubbornly, ready and looking for a fight.

"It's too fancy," Snafu says and jerks his chin in the direction of the three story building stacked in layers on the cliff like a cake, "I see white lace curtains in those windows. Fucking clean lace curtains."

"The hot dogs were too poor, this place is too rich," Eugene says, "Make up your mind, Snafu."

Snafu sighs, but concedes Eugene may have a point. He gestures for Eugene to go through the gate first.

Sometimes Eugene's ability to take all of his generational wealth and privilege and put it to use comes in handy. After hours of physical exercise they look bedraggled. Both of them are dusty, the armpits of their shirts are damp, Eugene's collar is creased, Snafu never had a collar to begin with, they have sand pouring out of their shoes, and yet when Eugene walks through that gate he owns the place.

Snafu slinks in on his coat tails and settles in to watch the show from a distance. Some pool boy comes up to stop Gene from going any further, and the set of Eugene's shoulders takes on a stubborn slant. Eugene isn't pretentious. But he knows how to be. Snafu's never seen Eugene use his status, or his upbringing to deliberately belittle anyone beneath him. When he does draw out this intangible skill to demand the kind of respect money offers, it's always in defense of someone who doesn't have it.

And Snafu kinda likes being the beneficiary of that benevolent righteousness. It's entertaining to watch people's attitudes change toward Eugene in the blink of an eye when they realize he's someone of means.

All it takes is a few quick sentences, and the attendant who initially stopped Eugene is suddenly apologizing and taking Eugene's ID. Before the attendant reverently carries the ID back towards the main house, he glances nervously at Snafu.

Snafu tilts his head back against the pool wall and lazily smiles. Snafu knows where he belongs but he doesn't give a shit.

The attendant turns tail and runs.

Snafu watches him go with a bit of hypocritical glee till Eugene quietly returns to Snafu's side.

"We're staying here tonight, huh?" Snafu smirks.

"Yeah," Eugene nods confidently, his hands in his pockets, "It looks comfortable."

Snafu hums and grins at Eugene admiringly.

"You might have to put up with clean lace curtains for longer than expected," Eugene warns.

"Think I can handle that," Snafu replies.

"Swell," Eugene says, only half sarcastic and immediately satisfied with Snafu's agreement. Eugene's eyes start roaming around the pool deck till he spots what he's looking for, "Now that's settled, I see a burger bar with my name on it."

"I believe the name on that sign says 'Hanna's'," Snafu points out drolly.

"Grab that table overlooking the ocean," Eugene says, "I'll bring you a menu."

Snafu climbs a narrow stone staircase built into the cliff face and sits down at one of the three tables hidden in a nook behind a trellis of lavender. He adjusts the tables a little, shoves one closer to the wall at the edge of the cliff, and then sits down.

Eugene comes up a few minutes later and offers Snafu an embossed menu featuring a long list of items and no prices. "I see you removed the lace tablecloth," Eugene notes with a grin.

Snafu briefly glances at the discarded pile of table linens he made on the table next to theirs and scoffs, "Don't need that shit for hamburgers."

Eugene bites his lip and concentrates on reading his own menu.

They both order hamburgers, and Eugene deliberates between a milkshake or a soda before eventually settling on the house rootbeer. Snafu additionally orders three extra sides of french fries. The hamburgers are as large as Snafu's hands and the french fry portions are generous enough that Snafu still has a large stack at the end of the meal. He leans back in his chair, props his feet up on the ocean wall, and snacks on fries while surveying the waves.

Meanwhile Snafu can feel Eugene's eyes on him.

Snafu finishes his fries, and lights a cigarette.

Eugene is still watching him.

Snafu can't bring himself to meet Eugene's gaze. Eugene's eyes are everything good - kindness, vulnerability, trust, smarts...when Snafu looks into them he feels this rush of uncontainable emotion, that drug that makes his nerves calm. And the persistent need in the back of his head to be somewhere doing something quiets down till it goes silent entirely, because he's here, sharing this with Eugene, and somehow that's more than enough.

They're not even doing anything, they're relaxing on the side of a bluff looking out at the ocean and sharing a cigarette. It should be boring as hell, and yet when Snafu does finally get the guts to flick his eyes towards Gene, he's utterly satisfied.

He's going fucking insane, is what it is. All cause of Eugene's eyes. He tries to clumsily explain this to Gene. Snafu feels he owes him that much. It doesn't come out right. None of Snafu's words ever come out right, not like Gene's with his studied elocution and tendency to think long and hard before he speaks.

Except this time, as Snafu speaks, Eugene's face loses his sour expression entirely, and Snafu sees hope there - maybe a little bit of joy.

Eugene places the cigarette back in Snafu's hands and leans his elbows on the table intently. "Snaf," he says very seriously, "how do I explain to you that I feel the exact same way every time I look at you?"

"Not possible," Snafu counters stubbornly.

"Snaf!" Eugene laughs.

"I can't be for you what those guys on the beach are for each other," Snafu says.

"Why not?"

"Just can't."

"Just like I can't fall in love with my asshole gunner during the middle of a war?" Eugene's still grinning like he can't stop now that he's started.

"I'm not enough, Gene."

Eugene sighs. He studies Snafu's profile quietly for a minute, and then switches tactics. "Do you know why mine and Edna's divorce was okay by my parents?"

Snafu shakes his head. He hadn't even given it a thought. Just assumed Eugene's parents knew their son deserved the best, and anyone named Edna was clearly not that.

"We, uh," Eugene coughs, "We never consummated the marriage. I kept putting it off. Easy to do under strict christian values. Till Edna got fed up, realized I wasn't about to give her kids anytime soon or ever. And demanded we split."

"You're still a virgin?" Snafu stares at him in surprise.

"I am," Eugene blushes angrily, "And I'm kinda tired of people shaming me for that."

"No shame," Snafu says fairly, "I remember how you were during the China occupation years. Always thought that was just cause your fear of VD, though."

"Yeah, that was my excuse at the time," Eugene says, "Snaf, you know I love you. Passionately. I want to be able to say that, whenever I feel it, instead of choking it down and trying to hide it. I'd like to kiss you. I very much enjoy holding you. I think we could live together very happily. That's what I want from you, nothing more." Eugene reaches over the table and takes Snafu's hand resting beside the crystal water goblets. "I'll beg you, if that's what it takes to get it through your thick skull."

Snafu smiles a little despite himself.

"Also, we're both gonna have to work on quitting smoking," Eugene concludes his list, "cause I'm going to need you to grow old with me."

Snafu plucks at the bar menu on the table beside his elbow. He casually picks it up and scans the dessert section. "You know...," he says casually, "...they've got coconut ice cream." He flips the menu around so Eugene can read the list.

Eugene reaches with his free hand and grabs the menu to examine it. "If I buy you coconut ice cream will you finally admit you love me back?"

Snafu looks at him and Eugene is smiling so hard his cheeks must hurt.

Snafu uses their twined hands to pull Eugene closer over the table and press his lips to Eugene's in answer. He looks deep into Eugene's eyes, his gaze as unwavering and cliche as his devotion, and says, "I love you, Gene. Heart and soul."

Eugene threads his free hand into the back of Snafu's curls and touches their foreheads together. There's a knowing between them that's existed in some form since that first day on Pavuvu. Eugene doesn't need to say a word, Snafu can read it all in his eyes. He leans in and kisses Eugene one final time before pulling away and standing up.

"Now that that's settled," Snafu says with a devil grin, "Let's go see about that coconut ice cream."

Eugene groans, but when Snafu wraps his hand tighter around Gene's to help him stand and leads him back down the cliffside stairs to the pool deck, Eugene willingly follows.

Snafu stands on his tiptoes at the poolside bar to order a double scoop ice cream cone with chocolate drizzle. Eugene stands to the side and fiddles with the condiments while he waits. Snafu tilts his head to bat his eyes saccharinely at Eugene while the bartender is in the back with the scoops. And Eugene's reflexive smile in return is bashful and more than a little endearing.

They take Snafu's prodigious two scoop chocolate drizzle coconut ice cream cone outside the gate and onto the ocean rocks. The evening air is finally cooling, but the setting sun melts the ice cream fast. Snafu keeps having to lick at his hands where the milky cream runs down his fingers. Snafu sucks at the edge where cone meets ice cream, and notices Eugene watching him.

He waggles the cone in front of Eugene's face invitingly.

Eugene hastily grabs Snafu's hand so his wiggling doesn't make the double scoop fall off into Eugene's lap. "Fine," Eugene sighs, as if tasting ice cream is a true hardship. He holds Snafu's hand still and takes a tentative lick.

Snafu grins when he sees Gene's eyes light up. "It's only called 'coconut ice cream'," Snafu announces, "Never said it tasted like coconut."

"How…?" Eugene asks.

"They just make it out of coconut milk, it's flavored with vanilla," Snafu says, proud to have won an argument.

Eugene eases the cone out of Snafu's hand in order to better take another bite of ice cream.

Eugene's hair is blowing wildly in the ocean breeze. Snafu watches strands of hair fall across Eugene's face and Eugene desperately tries to shake it out of his mouth so he can eat. Snafu chuckles and brushes Eugene's hair off his forehead and holds it there to give him easier access.

Eugene crinkles his eyes at Snafu in amusement and mumbles his thanks in between bites of ice cream.

"I think you've had enough," Snafu comments and draws the cone away from Eugene's grasp after two thirds of the ice cream has magically disappeared. But instead of eating more himself, Snafu kisses Gene and sucks on his bottom lip to get the last drops of ice cream. Eugene tastes sweet, and his lips are refreshingly cold. And when Snafu opens his eyes, he can see that Gene is silently laughing at him - or with him, because Snafu is laughing too.

Snafu grins, kisses the tip of Eugene's long nose because there's some ice cream there, and then turns back to his cone. He barely gets his mouth around it before Eugene is tugging the cone out of his hand a second time.

"Hey, you could'a got your own!" Snafu exclaims, trying to keep the ice cream away.

Gene wins. Because of course he does. "I'll buy you a second one," Eugene promises.

Snafu threads his fingers through Eugene's bangs again to hold them back, and chooses to watch Eugene instead of the sunset. Gene's tinted round sunglasses are brilliantly rosy, casting colored shadows on his cheeks and making them even rosier.

"Gene," Snafu says, just to be able to savor his name.

"Mm?" Eugene cuts his eyes to the side and raises an eyebrow at Snafu even as he licks melted ice cream off his hand.

Snafu tilts his chin up and scoots closer till their sides are pressed tight together. "I think this is gonna be the best vacation I ever have," he confesses.

Eugene turns back to his ice cream and comments, "Thought this was the only vacation you've ever had."

"Yeah, but I mean in the future too," Snafu swipes at his collar and unbuttons it a little to give himself more breathing room.

"Naw," Eugene scoffs, "Don't worry, we'll top it." He licks his lips and hands the almost empty ice cream cone back to Snafu, "That's pretty darn good."

Snafu breaks into a wide grin. "I told you. I told you so, Sledgehammer!" he says proudly, "Next time I suggest new food, you better listen!"

Eugene laughs and agrees, "I will." He maneuvers around on the rock till he can lay his head in Snafu's lap. "If you drip any ice cream on me, try to aim for my mouth," he advises.

"Sure thing, Sledgehammer," Snafu says and bites into the last of the cone with a crunch. It's a bit messy and he does end up dripping some on Eugene, but it lands on Eugene's forehead . It's okay though because Snafu bends over to kiss him clean, and Eugene laughs and complains that it tickles.

When the ice cream disappears, and the sun is set, and the last bit of twilight is slowly fading, Eugene and Snafu make their way back across the rocky beach to their bikes. Nothing's changed, yet everything feels different. This time when Eugene miraculously spots a tiny crab species scuttering over a rock, and stops to admire it, Snafu can openly admire Eugene and Eugene's goofy fascination. And when they're chatting as they walk, and Eugene retorts with something particularly sarcastic, instead of just laughing it off, Snafu gets to tug Eugene back by his hand, spin him around, and lay a kiss on him. Just because he wants to.

Of course, when they do finally reach the bikes and rejoin civilization, Snafu has to reign in his urges somewhat, but from time to time he still manages to smile at Eugene in that way that makes Eugene blush, and usually trip over his own feet if he's not being careful.

They drop the bikes off at the booth, and Eugene pays a rather hefty late fee. They're walking back to their car when Snafu grabs onto Eugene's elbow and stops them both.

He draws Eugene in close and whispers, "Look at the pier, all lit up at night. Like fireflies."

The hippodrome is dotted with popcorn lights, it's turrets and arches glamorous behind shadow in a way they aren't during the day.

Eugene stands straight, takes a deep breath, locks Snafu's arm under his elbow, and takes off down the street towards the pier.

"Gene, where are we going?" Snafu asks worriedly, slightly alarmed and keeping a sharp eye out for anyone looking at them askance because of being arm-in-arm.

"I want to dance," Eugene decides. He marches them straight up to box office window of the ballroom and slaps a ten dollar bill on the counter. "Can he and I enter the ballroom as a couple?" Eugene asks challengingly.

Snafu nearly chokes. It's late enough there's not many people around outside. Most everyone is in the ballroom where the band is in full swing. Whenever one of the front doors opens and people exit, a cacophony of talking and loud music escapes with them.

The bored and exhausted woman behind the desk takes in Eugene, lingering on Eugene's Marine Corps ring, and then Snafu, and shrugs, "Sure, whatever."

Eugene nods enthusiastically in relief, "Thank you," and slides the money over. Being pressed up against Eugene's side, Snafu can feel him sweating.

The girl behind the counter gives them two tickets and their change. Eugene gratefully pushes five dollars of it back to her, nods once more, and drags a still-in-shock Snafu over to the doors.

Eugene falters once inside the doorway, suddenly shy. He holds his head up high, but there's tension in his neck when Eugene swallows nervously.

It's up to Snafu to pry his hand out from underneath Eugene's sweaty armpit, and walk them both onto the dance floor.

The first few dances are easy as pie. The songs are familiar, big band numbers both of them recognize from their days during and immediately after the war. Eugene is a horrible dancer, but Snafu more than makes up for it. And with how lively everything is, no one notices two boys in a crowded corner doing the jitterbug with themselves.

Plus Snafu secretly enjoys having to grab Eugene's hips and turn him in the proper direction or place. Even if it also means he nearly trips over Eugene's feet every five minutes. There's a freedom in being able to be naturally affectionate with each other in public.

The only person that bothers them is a short but very handsome man who comes up to compliment Snafu on his dancing.

"How'd you get stuck with this dancing ginger elephant," the guy says to Snafu and sticks his thumb at Eugene, "Why, you're so light on your feet, I bet you could get any girl on the wall in here."

"I'm teaching him how to dance," Snafu says curtly. He shifts his grip on Eugene's hand and swings Gene close into his side protectively.

Meanwhile Eugene is glaring at the newcomer.

"Hey, you're teaching skills must be pretty swell," the guy says admirably, "Can I get a lesson?"

Snafu skids their dance to a stop. There's no way this asshole is going to go away without some kind of placation. Snafu turns around and grins, fully prepared to give this guy a verbal vertical buttstroke to the chin. But Eugene intervenes first.

"You're out of luck, mister," Eugene says. He pushes his way in between the guy and Snafu, "I'm afraid he's all booked up tonight."

"Oh," the guy says affably, completely clueless to Eugene's souring mood, "Well, how about tomorrow?"

"He's busy tomorrow too," Eugene replies.

"But not tomorrow night," Snafu interjects, slipping around Eugene, "Give me your name and number and I'll call you with my lesson schedule."

Once Snafu jots down the guy's information, the man finally goes away satisfied.

"You're not really going to call him?" Eugene asks.

Snafu tries to coax him back into a dance, but Eugene's limbs turn very floppy when he's unenthused. "Of course not," Snafu answers, "But he's gonna leave us alone now. And he won't go complain to someone about the two guys dancing together on the floor."

"True," Eugene sighs.

Snafu spins them around and launches into one of the dance moves Eugene picked up the fastest in order to give Gene something to feel confident about. They link hands and hook opposing arms behind their heads. In one swoop their grips slide down each other's arms till they catch their hands again.

Eugene grins.

Snafu uses their momentum to snap them close together again and they playfully push each other to rotate clockwise.

"Feeling better?" Snafu asks.

"He was smarmy," Eugene states. He switches direction on the beat and touches Snafu's shoulder to follow.

"He was," Snafu agrees, amused.

"He's not your type," Eugene says, turning a second time.

"Definitely not," Snafu agrees again.

"What is your type?" Eugene asks. He sounds slightly worried, as if the thought just occurred to him that Snafu might have a 'type'. And he might not be it.

"I like guys who are smarter than me," Snafu reassures him smarmily.

"Well shit, that rules out at least ninety percent of the population," Eugene declares.

"Yeah," Snafu grins, "Good thing I found you."

"Good thing," Eugene agrees.

Snafu swings out and twists back in till he's tucked neatly under Eugene's arm, and pauses to wink at his dance partner. "Plus, you're no elephant," he reassures him.

Eugene snorts, "Actually he might have been right on that front…"

"No way!" Snafu insists, stepping out and holding their hands at length, "You'll be a great dancer. I think you might be ready for a few aerials."

Eugene furrows his brow and looks concerned, "Please tell me you're joking."

"Nope. Don't worry about it, I'm light, you'll toss me around like I'm nothing," he says.

"Snaf," Eugene exclaims, "I'll end up dropping you is what I'll do."

"You won't," Snafu insists. He shim shams into Eugene's space and tilts his head up till they're a breath away from kissing, and smiles disarmingly, "I trust you."

Which, of course, Eugene can never resist so here they are on the dance floor, Snafu explaining the simple physics of launching one body off another to an expert in biology. Hooking their arms together and him rolling over Eugene's back is the easiest so they start there.

For all his nerves, Eugene proves to be a very solid dance partner. He never shies away from a hold, and his feet might be slightly off but they never stumble. The first time Eugene effortlessly swings Snafu over his leg and into a side dip, Snafu's heart is fluttering in his chest and he's gazing up at Eugene in exuberant delight. Eugene sets Snafu down, swings him out, and when they come back together they almost collapse against one another in relieved laughter over their success. Snafu's arms lope around Eugene's neck and they giggle terribly.

Snafu didn't expect this.

He probably should have, Eugene never does anything by half and he always is a quick learner. Eugene picks up the steps so fast, in fact, that by the end of the second hour Snafu has to start shooing wallflower girls away who keep wanting to take Snafu's place.

Eugene, being Eugene, completely fails to notice the girls' interest, which is almost as entertaining as him refusing to take his attention off Snafu all night. A few times Snafu offers to give Eugene a break, and maybe find his own girl to take for a spin in the middle of the dance floor. But Eugene insists he needs no breaks.

When the music finally switches to something slow, Snafu slides to a stop and leans heavily against Eugene's shoulder panting.

"Let's get some water," Eugene suggests, and pats Snafu on the back. He starts off in the direction of the bar but Snafu hangs behind.

"What," Snafu taunts when Eugene glances back at him, "You won't slow dance with me?"

Eugene's eyebrows shoot up, his eyes go wide.

Snafu doesn't give him a chance to overthink things. He takes Eugene's hands, positions them properly for a waltz, and leads him into the dance. At first Eugene is stiff, and he refuses to make eye contact with Snafu, too busy scanning the room.

But after a few steps, after the world doesn't end, Eugene folds in closer to Snafu's body. Their cheeks brush. And Eugene's ear is suddenly right there, in front of Snafu's mouth. So Snafu tightens his embrace, and sings along to the song's romantic lyrics in a whisper meant for Eugene alone.

Snafu can understand Eugene's initial hesitation. After all the years Snafu spent sharing dances with various partners he didn't give a shit about, this feels especially vulnerable, despite the fact that they are one couple among thousands on the floor. There's a part of him that didn't think he'd ever have this moment. That for all the people jumping at the chance to dance with him, Snafu'd never feel the same way about someone else.

Eugene is so fucking gentle, it's easy to mistake him as soft. His hand is light against the small of Snafu's back. It's a little hard to believe not two minutes ago that same hand was gripping Snafu's thigh hard as Eugene spun him into an aerial. But as always, Eugene only uses his strength when necessary.

"When I graduate this year, I'm going to do my PHD in Florida," Eugene says as they slowly sway to the music, "I know I'm asking a lot but...Merriell...would you come with me?"

Snafu remains silent. He hadn't fully considered what loving Eugene might actually mean. That with him came Alabama, the Sledge family, the universities...

"I'll have a stipend, to take the financial pressure off," Eugene hastily elaborates, because Eugene always feels that if he adds more facts into the conversation he'll be more likely to win, "If you can find a job locally, that'd be great, but you wouldn't need to work. I've been budgeting this past year and I've calculated a way for the two of us to live off what I make. Maybe not comfortably, but it wouldn't be for long. When I get my diploma we can go back to New Orleans, or anywhere you want really. There are colleges and universities in almost any city. Snafu, I want you with me. No more pining after you every week and only feeling whole on the weekends…"

"How long've you been thinking about this?" Snafu asks.

Eugene is quiet for a while. "Do you mean how long have I been planning for it, or how long have I wanted it?"

"The second one?" Snafu asks, slightly uncertain.

"That day on the train…" Eugene begins.

"A few days??" Snafu interrupts incredulously, "That's all the thought you've given this, for fucks sake Gene!"

"On the train in 1946!" Eugene corrects sternly.

Which just about shuts Snafu up.

"Why the hell didn't you say anything sooner?" Snafu asks.

"Snaf, if you would just let me finish," Eugene complains, "That day on the train Burgie was talking about marriage, you were asking about jobs, everybody seemed to be thinking about commitments and when you turned to me the only damn certainty I had in my head was you. But then you didn't say goodbye. I thought...I figured…you were done with us in your life...with me."

"If I follow you to Florida will that make up for it?" Snafu asks.

Eugene grins, real slow, like he knows the past four years of Snafu being at Eugene's beck and call is partially Snafu's way of atoning for his abrupt departure. "It just might," Eugene says confidently, "It just might."

One thing about the timeline of everything doesn't add up in Snafu's mind. "So," he says, "I don't say goodbye and six months later you go and get yourself married?"

"I assumed leaving was your hint to me to try to fall back into civilian life. To forget about the war, and war buddies, live normally. And according to everyone, that meant marriage," Eugene sighs.

"Who's everybody?" Snafu smirks.

"Not you, obviously, Mr. Confirmed Bachelor," Eugene smiles back at him slyly, "But my mother, and Sid. Hell, even my brother got on me for still being a virgin."

Snafu laughs and dips his head closer to Eugene as they dance. He rests his cheek on Eugene's shoulder along with most of his weight, relying on Eugene to hold them both upright. "Did you love Edna?" he asks.

"I did, but not in the way she wanted," Eugene says quietly, "She's a lovely person, sometimes I wish I could love her like she deserves, like how I love you. Might've made life easier. But not better, I don't think."

"You saying me walking back into your life after your divorce made things better?" Snafu laughs at the absurdity.

"Yes," Eugene says seriously, "Infinitely better."

Snafu lifts his head from Eugene's shoulder in order to pull away and look into his eyes, to see if he's telling the truth. "Okay," Snafu agrees, "We'll go to Florida together. Till then, I'll see if my boss knows anyone in Auburn who can find me some work up there, and I'll move to Alabama."

Eugene gives Snafu a blank stare, so akin to the ones Snafu usually gives him, that it throws Snafu off and makes him question everything (including the efficacy of his own blank stares, maybe he should try to learn to communicate better).

The song the band is playing comes to an end, and the swing starts up again. The couples around them whirl into motion. But nobody pays attention to the two men standing in the middle of it all with their arms locked around each other.

Till Eugene surges forward and kisses Snafu.

The kiss catches Snafu off guard. Eugene's hand is flat on the small of Snafu's back and is holding Snafu flush against Eugene's body. Good thing too, cause Snafu's knees almost buckle in surprise. Eugene bends him over backwards in his enthusiasm to kiss Snafu harder, and Snafu wraps his arms tight around Eugene's neck and smiles into the kiss.

This is it, this is the 'war-is-over-we-are-going-home-together-in-triumph' kiss Snafu has been waiting for. Not triumph in the form of parades and adulation. But triumph in that against all odds, they survived, they found each other, Eugene fucking loves him, and they're gonna actually, finally...live.

They're about six years late, but Snafu figures that's forgivable when taking into account insecurities and the lingering numbness and fear hanging round their necks.

Eugene breaks the kiss and stares into Snafu's eyes, and Eugene is so pretty - he's so fucking pretty it hurts. Snafu wants to kiss him till all traces of that war weary blankness are gone from his eyes. There's moments - when Eugene comes to life with his sarcasm or sly wit or intellectual curiosity, and Snafu likes to pride himself on being able to bring those moments out. But is it enough?

After a bit Snafu begins to notice that it's not just them gone completely still. The couples around them are stopping and staring, and whispering.

"Shit," Snafu says under his breath to Eugene. He ducks his head and takes his arms off Eugene's shoulders.

"Yeah, we should probably get out of here," Eugene agrees. His hands still grip Snafu's hips.

Snafu laughs, giddy and reckless, and bumps his shoulder playfully into Gene's. If anyone nearby had any doubts after that kiss, all they'd have to do is take one look at Eugene's face and see how damn in love he is.

"Hey!" someone in the crowd calls out and Snafu can see the guy coming at them in the peripheral of his vision.

Snafu grabs Eugene's elbow. "Walk fast, but try to not draw more attention," he whispers and leads Eugene off the dance floor. They make it to the entrance and out the doors. As soon as they get outside, Snafu twines his hand with Eugene's and breaks into a run, their feet hitting the wooden boardwalk with loud hollow thumps. They can hear agitated voices and footsteps behind them, and they don't stop running till they reach the car.

Snafu slams the passenger door shut and turns to Eugene as soon as he gets inside. They're laughing from adrenaline and Snafu's heart is racing. He cups Eugene's cheek and tilts his head for another quick kiss before Eugene starts the engine.

Somehow Eugene knows the drive back to the hotel on the oceanside cliffs. Snafu doesn't pay any attention. He kicks his feet up on the dash and is too busy admiring Gene's long nose and the curve of his jaw backlit by the passing neon lights to give any thought to the car's direction.

The parking lot for the hotel is at the top of the cliff. There's a locked iron gate, nestled between eight foot tall hedges, with the name of the place welded onto it in an arc. The gate is small, and barely noticeable at the edge of the lot. Eugene has a key - it's antique and very decorative - and lets them in. The stairway beyond the gate switchbacks down the cliff, with thick walls protecting people from falling off the path. The air is thick and heavy with the smell of flowers growing abundantly around them.

Snafu pauses under one of the lamps. He folds his elbows over the wall, rests his chin on top, and looks out across the hotel and gardens below, and the ocean beyond. "We stepped into a goddamn fairytale," Snafu says.

Eugene comes up behind him with an embrace and rests his chin on Snafu's head, "Does that make you my prince?"

"No way," Snafu emphatically denies, "If anyone is a prince in this scenario, it's you Gene."

"Impossible," Eugene says with a smile, "Prince Eugene sounds like a pompous ass. Prince Merriell, on the other hand…."

Snafu laughs. "Maybe that's what my ma had in mind when she made up my name."

"Definitely," Eugene agrees, "She knew you'd grow up regal."

"Fuck regal," Snafu rolls his eyes, "Fuck propriety. You willing to give up all that shit for me, Gene? We ain't gonna be accepted into those circles anymore."

"Yes," Eugene says readily.

And Snafu believes him.

Their hotel suite, as expected, has white lace curtains covering each window, holding back the ocean breeze. Snafu's mother hung lace curtains in their home too, but those were already yellowed with age, patched in places, and quickly turned grey with dust. These hotel curtains reach to the floor and yet remain pristine.

Snafu stands on the balcony and smokes before bed. Eugene sits inside and reads. Or at least Snafu thinks Eugene is reading. Snafu turns his gaze away from the ocean only to catch Eugene guiltily ducking his head behind his journal.

"What?" Snafu asks, with a wry smile.

"Nothing," Eugene says, which almost definitely means it's something he's embarrassed about.

Snafu snubs out his cigarette and leans over Eugene's shoulder to investigate.

"Thought you just drew plants?" Snafu asks.

"I'm expanding my range," Eugene says dryly.

"You made me look skinny," Snafu comments.

"You are skinny," Eugene counters. He hooks an arm around Snafu's waist and walks him over to the bed. He sweeps Snafu off his feet in one of the lindy hop holds, and tosses Snafu onto the bed.

"Never should have taught you those aerials," Snafu teases. He stretches out across the pillows and dares Eugene with his eyes to join him.

Eugene says nothing, just grins widely as he climbs onto the bed next to Snafu.

Snafu kisses that self satisfied smile on Eugene's face.

They lie next to each other, their legs entwined, and their noses so close they're almost touching. There's a lightness in Snafu's chest he's never felt before. Happiness he knows, elation he knows - as rare as those things are. But this is new. He knows it can't last. Nightmares will come, they won't just go away, but for now he can lie here and soak up Gene's presence.

"I already knew you loved me," Snafu confesses.

"What do you mean?" Eugene asks.

"Even before you said it today. I think I've known since Okinawa," Snafu says.

"I figured," Eugene replies.

"Were a couple of fucking cowards," Snafu laughs.

"No, the world is cowardly," Eugene counters, "We were just trying too hard to adapt to it."

Snafu bites his bottom lip in consideration. He lifts his chin, thinks about saying something, and then decides words aren't necessary. Gene knows. Gene's always known. Snafu reaches over and gently takes Eugene's hand. Snafu twists around and pulls Eugene's arm across his body till his back is tucked against Eugene's chest.

Eugene folds around him. He's warm, and he's so much in love.

"Snaf," Eugene whispers in his ear before they fall asleep, "Let's get it right this time. Just you and me."

tagging requests: @xmxisxforxmaybe @diasimar (btw i think you have tagging turned off) (also if I am missing anybody on this list I apologize, pls tell me <3)

#sledgefu #Bad germs

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fever-dreamer97 · 4 years ago

Text

Let’s Try This Again

Chapter 2: Memory Lane Can Burn

———————————————————

Damn, how is it already getting so fucking hot? Katsuki tugged at his collar as he continues his walk towards the meeting point with his gang of idiots. Even with his first button undone like it always is, there is no escaping this annoying-ass heatwave.

Hopefully, it will die down soon. Katsuki just started his second year at UA a few weeks ago, and he doesn't want his first few months dying of fucking heatstroke. He also hates the feeling of sweating all over his body.

With workouts and any other physical activities, he didn't mind because it cooled down his body. But he found the feeling just disgusting and suffering when it was just walking to school.

He keeps his leisurely pace to the coffee shop as he hears the loud honking of traffic and random useless chatter from extras he passes by on his way. Damnit, he should have grabbed his headphones before he left his house; he hated endless noise. Of course, he hated any noise.

"WHOA! LOOK HOW COOL ALL MIGHT LOOKS! ISN'T HE THE COOLEST, HIEKO-CHAN?!" A small, high-pitched voice rings out.

At the mention of the familiar name, Katsuki stops and snaps his head over to two little small kids gushing over a movie poster of the upcoming new All Might movie. One kid is a girl with wild cardinal hair, cerulean eyes, and pale skin, while the other kid is a boy with cropped white hair, blood-red eyes, and dark skin. Both looked to be in kindergarten and wore their respective school uniforms.

"LOOK AT HIM PUNCH THAT BAD GUY! HE CAN DROP ANY VILLIAN IN A MINUTE!" The boy shouted as he threw some air punches and air kicks. 'Hieko-chan' giggled and cheered at the boy's antics.

"YEAH! ALL MIGHT IS THE BEST! I CAN'T WAIT FOR THE MOVIE TO COME OUT! I WANT TO SEE IT WITH KAZU-CHAN!"

Katsuki guessed that was the boy's name because the boy's face suddenly bursts into a bright shade of red.

"O-Of course! I'm your best friend, baka! W-Why wouldn't I see it with you?!" He grinned with pride. The girl wasn't fazed by the slight insult but instead giggled some more at his comment. The two then went into a more raucous conversation about 'how cool and super powerful All Might is' and 'why he is the best superhero in the world.'

Katsuki stares at the two and was hit by the nostalgia of the scene. Slowly, everyone and every sound around him fade as he keeps his gaze on the two young children.

He's super cool, neh? A feather-like voice giggled in his mind and a hazy image of a radiant, wide smile and glowing, speckled cheeks filled his head.

Immediately, Katsuki chokes at the memory and snaps out of his daydream, his heartbeat filling his ears. He cursed under his breath, snapped his head away from the two brats, and stomped his way back onto his path.

Katsuki decides to deny how much hotter his face suddenly feels and just blames this stupid-ass heatwave.

But then before he gets the chance to cool down, he hears a recognizable yelp of "BAKUBRO!" and gets jumped on from behind.

"Oi, Shitty Hair! Get off! I'm burning up enough as it is!" He yelled at his idiot best friend as he elbows him in the face. Katsuki hopes to God that his best friend's observation skills are below par as usual, and he won't notice the change of color in Katsuki's face.

"OW! Damn, dude! You got my nose!" Eijirou says as he rubs at the sore spot. Katsuki lets out a 'tch' before he looks to his best friend.

"Shut up! You've fucking dealt with worse from me, so stop whining like some wimpy-ass bitch!"

"What's wrong, man? Didn't get your eight hours of sleep? I guess geezers like you can get pretty cranky when you don't go to bed before nine." A laughing Eijirou teased at his blonde firecracker of a best friend.

Katsuki quickly flipped him off before the two kept on their walk to the coffee shop. Secretly, Katsuki was glad that Kirishima managed to come at the right time, so he doesn't drift off into any more pointless daydreams and stupid memories.

"Seriously, though, what's up?" Spoke too soon.

"None of your fucking business, Shitty Hair."

"Eh? Come on, man. You seem a bit hotter under the collar than usual."

"I'm hotter under the collar because of this damn, fucking heatwave! Damn idiot."

Eijirou lets a sigh, deciding not to poke the bear further. "Alright, man. If you say so."

After this little back-and-forth, the two second-year boys get into a discussion about the mixed-martial-arts match the both of them watched last night and boasted how cool and fluid the moves were before they find themselves in front of the 'Kamui Woods' Coffee Shop'.

Both walked into the place and were hit by the overpowering scents of fresh coffee and pastries. Katsuki gagged a bit at the overly sweet pastry scent but is willing to ignore it if it means that he can get his usual Spicy Woodlands coffee drink.

"YO, GUYS, OVER HERE!" A boisterous female voice screams.

Situated over at a giant table in the corner of the shop, there was the rest of Katsuki's idiot gang: Mina Ashido, Denki Kaminari, and Hanta Sero.

Mina waved with no shame at how loud she was being as Denki and Sero hovered over some textbooks and notebooks scattered across the table. Denki looked to be in massive pain as he stared over his textbook, his hand buried in his electric blond hair as he rubbed his head in frustration. Meanwhile, Hanta giggled and snickered at the blonde's situation.

"Dude, I told you not to procrastinate last night with the English homework. It's harder this time." Hanta snickered.

"Bro, I was not gonna waste an opportunity to see Kyouka at that soccer match last night. She looked so damn hot." Denki said with a goofy smile.

"Yeah, but considering English is 1st period, you just screwed yourself."

Denki groans before he slams his forehead into the textbook.

"What up guys!" Kirishima yells back before rushing over to the table. Katsuki takes the opposite approach as he lazily scrolls behind.

As Eijirou reaches the table, he fist-bumps Hanta and drops his backpack beside the table before looking over at Denki.

"...Jirou had a soccer match?"

"Yep and this guy decided he would go and drool over his mad crush and take an L on today's English assignment." Mina giggled mischievously.

"Come on guys, give me a break! You would have done the same thing if you had the chance to watch your girl go kick some ass."

"Would make better sense if she WAS your girlfriend, you fucking idiot." Katsuki snapped as he hovered next to the table.

"So mean! I'm working on it!"

"And that tally is at Month 17 and counting!" Eijirou laughed.

Denki mumbles out a 'fucking traitors' and goes back to trying to figure out Yamada-sensei's boring English work. Mina, Hanta, and Eijirou laugh some more while Katsuki scoffs at the blonde's hole he dug himself into.

"Don't know why you would waste time with something so pointless as romance." He spats out.

Mina and Denki quickly snap their heads up to address their Satan friend.

"ROMANCE ISN'T POINTLESS!" They both cried.

"Guys, remember how you're talking to. This is the same guy who never hesitates to take his lighter out and burn any confession letter he is given." Eijirou explains.

"And most of the time, he does it in front of the person who's confessing." Hanta puts his hand over his chest as a sympathy grab.

"Shut up! I don't have any fucking interest in that type of shit!" He said. Denki just sighs before propping his hand upon his cheek.

"Come on, man. I don't think even you can go through life without some sort of partner. If you do, that's one sad path to go down on."

"I kinda agree, Bakugo, it seems a bit lonely." Hanta chimes in.

"Of course it's sad! How can anyone scoff and give up the opportunity to be with their one-and-only soulmate?!" Mina faked cried with slight tears and hands clenched together.

Eijirou laughed uneasily. "Soulmate is a bit much..."

He then turns to Katsuki and reaches up to clap a hand on his shoulder. "I think you just haven't met the right girl yet, bro! She's out there somewhere!" He encourages with a bright smile.

Katsuki clicked his tongue and smacks off his hand. "Whatever. I'm getting my damn coffee." He spats.

He spins around before stomping over to the front counter, ignoring the gang's continuing conversation about relationships and new hookups this year.

What do love and romance have to do with anything remotely important? Katsuki doesn't need some damn bitch dragging him down with meaningless dates, pointless anniversaries, and overbearing 'pay attention to me!' conversations. All he needs to do is focus on his studies, train, graduate, and climb his way to the top of becoming the youngest MMA fighter to reach number one in the ranks.

You're so brave and cool, Kacchan!

Katsuki freezes and grits his teeth.

Damn it, get out of my fucking head!

"Um...sir? A-Are you okay?" A mousy, fearful voice squeaked out. Katsuki's fog gets clear once again as he looks to see the fidgeting cashier waiting for him to put in his order.

"Spicy Woodlands, medium. Extra hot and extra spicy." He demanded before slapping the money down on the table.

"Y-Yes, sir!" The poor cashier squeaks out before ringing him up and rushing away to get the order done.

Katsuki scoffs before stepping from the counter and gets out his phone to waste time before his drink is ready.

"Oh, ho? Is that you, Bakugo?" A nasal voice drags out.

Katsuki looks up annoyed at the voice and finds some random extras in third-rate school uniforms. The one who spoke out was lanky, pasty-skinned, and oily-looking while the other was short, heavy, and had horrible acne.

"Who the fuck are you, idiots?" He snaps.

The lanky one just lets out an annoying nasal laugh. "Of course, you don't remember me. You are always so self-centered even back in middle school."

At the mention of middle school, Katsuki freezes before anger starts to bubble. "Listen, fuckfaces, I don't know who the hell you are, and I couldn't care less about what you want, so get out of my face before I destroy you." The heavier set friend was a little fearful at the threat and put his hands up in surrender. "Y-Yeah, of course, dud-de! N-no problem!" He said before he tugged on his friend's arm. "Tadami, stop it..." He whispers.

"Oh, but Daichi, you have to hear about the great Bakugo Katsuki! He was pretty famous back in the days, you know?" Katsuki's stomach dropped at the tone in his voice. "He was famous since back in grade school in fact!" Oh, this shit-stain wasn't going there, was he? Katsuki started to see flashes of red as the brave soul kept talking.

"Back when we were nine, he told some girl to go off herself and you know what? She disappeared the very next day! Weird, right?" he explained. Katsuki tightened the grip on his phone. "Maybe she actually went and did what he said? It wouldn't surprise me, I mean he did bully and beat her up every single day..." He smirked.

Katsuki's insides started to melt and burn as memories started to flood him full-force. Memories of a small crying girl covered with scrapes and cuts while a boy laughed cruelly with pride at the pain in her big, doe eyes.

Daichi froze at the story and looked between his friend and Katsuki before he swallowed. "Ta-Tadami, let's just go, dude..." He offered meekly.

Tadami just shrugs with another smirk and walks pass Katsuki with a bump to the shoulder before he and his friend left the shop.

Katsuki stood there unmoving only breaking out of it when the cashier brought him his coffee in a wood textured mug. He grabs it from them with a slight, soft 'thanks' before just continuing to stand there and stare into the brown, scorching liquid.

A hand clapped upon his back for the third time that day by Eijirou.

"Hey, dude, what's takin-" He stopped when he sees the brooding look on Katsuki's face. "Bakugo? Are you alright?" He says with genuine worry.

Katsuki just offers a twitch of a nod.

"I'm fine."

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tiny-smallest · 4 years ago

Text

cruellest choir

Rating: T Characters: The Prince, Queen Vanessa Warnings: domestic violence since that’s what killed the Prince, as well as the lightest descriptions of sex and candid mention of the word but zero details about the act itself Description: It's a very old building. There are many pipes criss-crossing along the cellar ceiling, and they all make noise. The prince has known this house long enough to know what's in use based on which pipe is making noise.

It's how he knows what Vanessa is doing even from the cellar.

Also on AO3!

—

Hi guess who has a new comfort character.

—

The manor was a lovingly tended-to building. Always clean, always bright. Whichever member of the royal family had this place built--and Luka, who once knew this by heart, struggled to remember the name around an ever-growing haze of agony, cold, and numbness--clearly knew what they were doing when they had the house designed.

A large, gorgeous house with expensive, tasteful furnishings to show off the status of the family, but small enough to feel homey and cozy. Luka had visited an aunt or two as a child with giant, sprawling places to get lost in, and while it was fun to explore, he could not imagine living in such a place. Big, maze-like homes were fun to explore, but to live in? Luka couldn't imagine having so much space just to show off your wealth. Why not invest that in better places? A home full of nice furniture was one thing, but to occupy so much land when you would use maybe a small percentage of it just felt wasteful.

His own family home was not as big as his aunt's, but still quite large. But for the fact that the big space allowed for places to hide from his parents' endless screaming matches, he'd have wished for something more homey.

Vanessa's manor was the first place he'd ever felt truly at home in- though he would attribute that more to Vanessa herself rather than just the house. Her mother certainly hadn't made it feel like a home, the way her cold, ruthless eyes watched him anytime he so much as breathed near her daughter, the way she would cower and shiver in on herself when the queen's attention was drawn to her, but Vanessa had brought light and love to the place; the girl glowed whenever he stepped inside to see her, and would usher him into the kitchen to taste-test whatever new adventure she was attempting at the stove; her cookies were just the most heavenly thing to ever hit his tongue, and he was happy to try whatever she was testing at the time of his visit, especially since odds were he could stay far longer than taste-testing would actually require, and fill her time waiting for dough to rise or cookies to bake with conversation instead of forcing her to endure the wait alone.

The one silver lining of the queen was her ailing health; as heartless and cruel as Luka felt to think that, it was true that due to her fragility, she spent most of her time in her room, in her wheelchair, away from everyone else. So long as she remained in that room in her bitterness, the two of them could pass the hours however they liked, and always in bliss.

He tried, once, to coax the queen to join them. Just once. It ended with a slap to his face and a low, cold threat towards her daughter. He never tried again after that.

A week later the queen was discovered dead at the bottom of the stairs, wheelchair overturned at her side. Unnerving, but Luka couldn't pretend he was exactly... sorry.

It made him wonder if he was a bad person.

Vanessa was far more important, though- for all the clashes they'd had, this was her mother. He knew the complicated feelings that came with burying a parent who acted the way that woman did. For many hours they sat together in the attic observatory, in the armchairs by the telescope, and he held her.

It had been many months since the present-day Luka had seen that room, but he could still recall it clearly, especially as it was on that day. Vanessa, all in black, silent as the grave her mother would be lowered into, lay in his arms as he held her. The sun shone brightly that day through the many windows. He remembered the dust motes floating in the sunlight. Remembered thinking how many joyful hours they'd spent in this room, her seated in this same armchair watching him watch the stars, and wondering if this place would be forever tainted by the memory of what was happening at that very moment.

Remembered the moment the advisor stepped in and told Vanessa she would become the new queen, and how terrified she was.

Of course, she needn't be crowned right away, and she quickly agreed to wait a year or more to recover. Luka didn't mind. The queen's death was not entirely unexpected- little by little, the ailing monarch's duties had been transferred to Vanessa, but it so overwhelmed her that Luka quietly stepped in to handle them instead. This would mostly be business as usual, except now with the queen gone, they had the breathing room to think about where to go from here.

The bedroom came to mind. Luka of the present day watched his breath fog in front of him and let his sluggish thoughts step from the memory of the observatory and that day into the bedroom he moved into on the day he came to live with his betrothed. It was a gorgeous room and he instantly felt more at home there than he ever had in the place he was raised in. There was the cozy bed he missed dearly right now, the bedspread with stars and moons on it, and the comfy armchair, and the several bookshelves. The lovely wardrobe. The shelf he stored his violin on, and the cabinet in which he stored his paints and other art supplies. The neat little fireplace, the mantle of which he decorated with the presents his love had given him. The clothesline he eventually rigged from which to hang his paintings as they dried. The desk he spent so much of his life at as he worked to maintain the kingdom. He wrote out his application to school at that desk. He was so excited to send it off and more excited still to get a letter of acceptance back.

He spent so many nights in that room, dreaming, writing, playing, painting. So many nights spent reading. Vanessa was below him and upon hearing how miserable she was at night he took two cans and a string and rigged a tin can telephone for them and sent the other end down to dangle at her window.

Oh, the nights they spent talking until dawn. Sometimes he fell asleep, and the can would nearly slip from his grasp to fall out the window. She berated him for that, but he understood why. God help them if her mother caught them doing this. The can didn't need to risk banging against something and waking anyone.

He was always messing up, though. Maybe that was why he wanted to go to law school so terribly. Besides just the fact that he desperately needed to understand law better to handle the kingdom, besides just the fact that the passion to protect the innocent burned through his being, besides just the passion for understanding how things were run, itself... it would be nice if he could actually become a lawyer, and prove he was up to any task regardless how grueling it was.

The room below, though...

He thought about the bedroom he moved into after the queen's death, his beloved's room. Vanessa was frightened at first even though she wanted it, but when Luka stepped in and threw himself on the bed and rolled himself into a blanket burrito she broke into soft little giggles and tentatively followed him. It wasn't long before her room became their room.

Technically it wasn't proper for him to move in there until they were married, but despite Vanessa's fears, nobody seemed inclined to pick a fight with the young couple and Luka was relieved. Their wedding was inevitable anyway, so it wasn't like either of them were leading the other on. You would have to be blind or denser than a brick to not see how in love they were. Luka loved calling Vanessa 'my future wife' whenever he had the opportunity, and oftentimes to random strangers, just to feel the rush of love and joy it brought him and, if she were nearby, hers as well.

Fiancé. He had a fiancé. It had left him feeling like floating away.

How far away that seemed now.

The bed was soft and warm and big, and they reveled in curling into each other, bodies folded against one another like they were puzzle pieces meant to fit. Sometimes he would wake up and she would be so beautiful against him he could scarcely breathe.

And he got to do that every single morning, and would for the rest of their lives. There was no queen anymore to insist they stay apart and not touch each other too long.

Maybe it was that woman's obvious disdain for them both and their relationship and her ironclad belief they were off having sex behind her back every single second, but the second she was gone and the fear of their physical safety was off the table the topic had shyly come up. He truly no longer remembered if it was his or her idea but it turned out that the master bedroom with a lock that actually worked (he suspected the lock on his bedroom was broken for not innocent reasons) was good for more than just the mundane sweetness of sharing a sleeping space. It turned out to also be a great place for privacy to ensure their spiteful foray into something a touch more spicy stayed between them.

Why not? The dead queen had done everything she could short of ordering his imprisonment or death to keep them apart, had at every turn sneered her belief that his thoughts were lecherous and disgusting. How could anyone want her daughter but for her body?

Well, excuse you, ma'am. He wanted her for everything she was and spent his life proving it to her.

Oh, did he ever spend his life proving it to her.

If her mother was going to be so sure she was a floozy and he was a creep, and now she was dead and unable to harm them, what was the wrong in enjoying each other in every way they could? They'd be married soon enough. Didn't they want each other?

And... yes. He did. He wanted her so badly. In every aspect, every way; he wanted to get drunk on her presence until he was dizzy with it. Every part of his body screamed for want of her but in that moment it gathered mostly between his legs, and she felt the same, so why not indulge?

At the time it was the most frightening thing he'd ever done. It wasn't perfect. Vanessa was disappointed it wasn't like the fairytales and was very candid about what he did wrong. He was disappointed and upset that she was, that he hadn't been good enough to give her this.

Funny, how a memory can latch onto a room like that. That night was the first night that room didn't feel like home, her presence or no. Many times they allowed themselves to act on the things they felt in that room ended with him feeling like that; even with all of his love for her, that was one thing he couldn't seem to do right.

A weak laugh cracked free of his throat, puffed upwards in warmth and breath that he couldn't afford to spare. It would seem there were many things he couldn't do right. Why did he fail so terribly at love? He felt it so strongly that doing it should be so easy, but if he was any good at it, none of this would have happened.

If he was any good at loving her, she wouldn't always be so afraid he'd leave. He would not be down here right now.

A pipe above him groaned. The bathroom, he thought idly. His thoughts wandered with the pipe, remembering that big beautiful bathroom. He had been surprised by the size of that bathtub, but it didn't exactly take much adjustment to grow used to it. Maybe he didn't like wasteful, but that didn't mean he would refuse to indulge in a few choice luxuries, and sometimes after hunching over a desk for twelve hours he needed a hot bath and wanted to stretch out in it.

Vanessa preferred showers. He liked them too, but not nearly as long as she did. She would happily spend a whole hour just under the water, never mind the time needed to do the other things, regardless of what she might be late for if she did that. He once teased her for it, a giggling little Trying to boil yourself alive, again, are we? I know they're not fun but the daily briefings aren't that bad.

He didn't make that mistake again.

After he moved into Vanessa's room she, and he remembered this was her idea, floated the idea of taking a bath together. It was magical; in fact he'd argue it was better than the sex. It certainly ended with him feeling happier; he didn't mess up with this one. She was nearly comatose with happy beneath his touch as he washed her hair, massaging her scalp in small circles, carefully making his way through her long, golden tresses.

When she was happy, so was he. Watching her melt so readily beneath his hand and smile with sleepy love up at him may as well have turned his heart into a butterfly for how much it fluttered in his chest.

The pipe of the present drew him from his dozing dream, the hazy memories and near-sleep popping like the soap suds of long ago. He hung there for a few minutes in cruel reality once more, wishing he could fall back into a haze but unable to ignore the constant itch at the back of his mind.

That's the bathroom. The actual realization hit with a dropping of his stomach; he suddenly felt far more awake than he wanted to, even with exhaustion pulling on every part of him. There was only one reason the pipe for the bathroom's water would keep making that sound.

She's taking a shower.

She is taking a shower while I-

Something tore from his throat. He thought he had run out of tears hours ago, or maybe longer, but the cold wet tracks on his face proved him wrong. His breath fogged in front of him with his weak sobs, his chest aching from the inside out. Upstairs, a very different kind of fog would be filling the room he had once shared with her.

The pipe continued to sing, a haunting chorus that felt like it was growing louder and louder, drowning out his pitiful weeping until it silenced all together as he was pulled quietly, mercifully, into the soft blackness of unconsciousness.

#a hat in time #ahit prince #ahit vanessa #ahit snatcher #ahit the prince #tagged snatcher since the prince BECOMES him so anything i write with him is likely gonna be linked to this #ahit spoilers #my writing

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winterknight1087 · 4 years ago

Text

The Trash Pizza Wasn’t Worth It

Summary: After accidentally traumatizing Patton in a failed prank for his twin, Remus ends up getting into a fight and ends up in the hospital.

Word Count: 2912

Warnings: sympathetic Remus, sympathetic Deceit/Janus, fight mention, hospital, mention of medication, food mentions, injury mentions, tarantula, Remus has some intrusive thoughts, murder mentions due to those intrusive thoughts, cursing

Pairings: platonic sides, brotherly creativitwins

AO3 Link My Writing

@franthehorsegir I am so sorry this is a little bit late! 2020 ended the same way it went. But still, I hope you enjoy your @sanderssidesgiftxchange present! It was interesting coming up with ways to try and incorporate all your gift wishes and I hope I did it justice! Happy Holidays!

Pranks were a very common phenomenon around the house. The two main culprits were almost always the twins, each trying to one up the other’s last prank. Everyone has accidentally fallen victim to the twins’ pranks at least once a week. A bucket of soap water dumped on Virgil’s head. The Crofters being traded out for what Logan swears was bubblegum toothpaste flavored jello. Patton got hit with a full-on cake, though he got to eat the rest so it was mostly OK. One time, the twins teamed up on Janus and they have never felt more fear than watching Janus stare them in the eyes as he drank the coffee mixed with salt instead of sweetener, acting as if that were his normal drink. Safe to say the coffee was never a victim of the pranks again at least.

Occasionally, a twin would go too far though. Once Roman shaved off Remus’s mustache, while Remus was fast asleep on the couch. Remus was livid and refused to go anywhere until it grew back. Remus had once accidentally knocked Roman unconscious with his inflatable mace. The others were terrified that Roman was extremely hurt, but once he woke up, he was fine, thankfully. However, one prank mishap will live on as the ultimate disaster prank…

***

“You are going to sit here and wait for RoRo and then jump at him, okay?” Remus whispered to the giant tarantula, currently housed in an empty Crofters jar.

He set the creature down as he replaced the current jar with the prank one. He made sure that it didn’t look suspicious before setting up the rest of the prank. Remus carefully lined a tripwire directly behind where he expected Roman to be. He hid a camera behind the toaster to record the entire incident. The icing on top was a special sticky slime that Remus set up to dump on Roman once he tripped over the wire.

Remus hid in the pantry, waiting for Roman to come down for his afternoon snack. If it had been Roman, or any of the others, the prank would have been fine. Logan and Virgil would be momentarily surprised but wouldn’t do much more than look startled. Janus would have hunted Remus down and stole his fake deodorants as punishment. But no…

A high-pitched scream shot through the house as the sound of glass shattered on the ground. Remus was rushing out of his hiding spot in time to see Patton trip over the wire, onto the broken glass. His eyes were locked on the tarantula and when it moved barely a hair, Patton was screaming again as he scrambled backwards, not aware of the glass. When the slime fell, that was it for Patton. He let out another scream as he scrambled to his feet, frantically trying to get the ‘spiders’ off of him as he ran out of the kitchen.

Remus could hear rushing footsteps and Patton screaming about the ‘creepy crawly death dealers’ in the kitchen. The chaotic rat knew he was about to get into major trouble, so he started cleaning up the kitchen, particularly going after the tarantula first. Once it was in a box to give to Virgil later, Remus started sweeping up the broken glass, thoughts about how dead he was running through his head.

Honestly, the five minutes it took Janus to come down to scold Remus seemed longer than normal scolding intervals. But Janus appeared, caped PJs and bowler sleep hat revealing the snake had been taking a nap when awoken to screams. And one thing with Janus was that no one was allowed to interrupt his nap time unless it was a true emergency. Remus gulped seeing the furious man storm into the kitchen.

Let’s just say that Janus wasn’t his usual suave, collected self when he is rudely awoken by screams.

“I will give you exactly ten seconds to explain why you terrified Patton with a shower of spiders.”

“It was one tarantula and slime! It was a prank for Roman but apparently Pat went in without me seeing him!”

“You damn idiot. We all agreed that anything spider related would not happen in this house. Patton is petrified of spiders, even Vee’s spider curtains set him off. And yet, with all the power of your mere quarter of a brain cell, you decided that it was an OK risk to bring a spider into this house and not have a contingency plan to keep Patton away from it? Remus, I knew you were stupid, but I didn’t realize you were able to lower my standards even more than they already were. Even if it were to be Roman, how would this have turned out any better? Answer me that, Remus. How?”

Remus hung his head. “I don’t know.’

“Exactly. All of us put up with your random weird ass bullshit everyday because we’re your friends, but there has always been a line between an OK thing and a very not OK thing. Sending someone into a panic attack through their phobia? Extremely not OK. You useless trash rat, what were you even thinking!? Probably nothing as that useless brain of yours has only one thought a month.”

“Pardon me,” Logan’s voice cut Janus off, “but can the two of you move out of the way? Patton requires the first aid kit.”

The two immediately stepped aside, letting Logan access the medicine cabinet. This new information added fuel to Janus’ eyes, and Remus couldn’t help but remember the coffee salt incident and now really wanted his twin here to bear some of the fury. He knew the second that he had realized Patton fell into his prank that he had messed up, bad, but Janus was going to make sure that Remus could never hear the word spider without remembering his fury.

Logan left with the first aid kit, focused on how he was going to get Patton to sit still long enough to get the glass out of his hands and bandage them while the other was still panicking about spiders. Not that he would have really had any sympathy for Remus as he faced Janus’ wrath. They had all agreed that even Halloween decoration spiders were off limits. And Remus went and broke that agreement? His own fault for angry, sleepy Janus.

“Out.”

Remus blinked. “What?”

“Get out. I don’t want you in line of sight right now.”

Remus didn’t even bother grabbing anything as he quickly left the house. It was supposed to be a funny prank on his brother, not a traumatizing experience for one of his best friends. He even passed by his favorite store to terrorize, not in the mood to evade employees to set all the alarms to go off or add random items to people’s carts and wait for them to discover the item.

Go jump in front of oncoming traffic. It’ll save everyone the trouble of having to deal with you.

Remus had already started to step off the curb before violently shaking his head. What did Logan call those? “Intrusive thoughts. They aren’t me. They can’t be me. Those are just unconscious thoughts that come out of nowhere. They do not indicate who I really am.”

But they are your thoughts and you’ve thought of how to murder each of them so that they won’t laugh at you behind your back anymore. You are just a screw up that is a burden on everyone. Your brother had to convince his friends to let you move in with them, and it was probably out of pity or guilt than love.

“Not true.” Remus muttered to himself as he walked aimlessly. “Even for things I wouldn’t otherwise know about, all of them still invite me. They all willingly choose to be in the same room as me, even when I am being more extra than normal. They get upset when I do something stupid. That was something stupid, so they are right to be mad. Not what you’re telling me, you stupid brain.”

Remus didn’t notice his feet carry him to the dumpster behind the nearby Dennys. He was too busy trying to rationalize the thoughts running through his head and weed out Häagen-Dazs Distortions or whatever Logan called them along with his normal intrusive thoughts. Remus barely noticed climbing into the dumpster, but he settled down in the corner before curling up, filled with the rare instance of self-hatred.

He did eventually pull himself out of his thoughts long enough to text his brother’s old friend that he was in their dumpster again and not to panic if someone came to toss trash. It spoke multitudes to the amount of times Remus did this that the only response that he received was a single letter k.

What if you just poison Janus? Then you won’t have to suffer his wrath once you go home.

“Shut up, brain.”

Poison Janus and stuff Patton into a coffin!

“NO!”

Pretty sure if you sneak up on Virgil, you could get him to choke to death as well. Just need to figure out a way to get rid of Logan and Roman and you’ll be free.

“Stooooop” Remus covered his ears, as if that would block out

Janus said you were stupider than he thought, so why not show him how intelligent you can be by murdering all your friends and family and getting away with it?!?

Tears were filling Remus’ eyes as he desperately tried to clear his head. He accepted that these weren’t his thoughts, that they were just intrusive thoughts. He tried all the tricks he normally did that helped, but nothing was working. He even tried moving onto something else to distract him like eating left over pizza he found in the trash.

At least, until something opened the dumpster. In popped a beady-eyed creature in search of food. Remus growled at it, looking for a way to distract himself. Instead of being startled, the creature hissed back. The creature had spent the day running from human toddlers who wanted to do things the creature was uncertain of. It had spent the day dodging cars and animal control. It wasn’t about to let this weirdo stop it from enjoying tossed out hamburgers and pancakes. And if the weirdo was going to fight the creature, well, the creature wasn’t going to give up without a fight.

***

Logan tightened his hands around the steering wheel as he waited impatiently for the light to turn. Janus sat next to him in the front seat, fiddling with his phone, hoping that there wouldn’t be a second call with worse news. In the middle of the van sat Patton and Roman. They were trying to distract themselves by planning the fun activities they could do after everything settled down. In the very back of the van sat Virgil, who’s anxiety and nervous tappings of various limbs magnified the worry that was probably spilling from the van.

Janus wondered if he hadn’t been so mad at being woken up by a hurt and terrified Patton due to an accidental misfire of a prank, would they have gotten that call? What had happened anyway? If they were going to get any call about Remus, it should have been from the local grocery store, banning him for the third time this month (though they always welcomed him back in because he was amusing and took on rude and self-centered costumers so that employees didn’t have to).

“He’ll be alright.” Logan stated, cutting through the worry. “It is Remus we are talking about.”

“Save it, Specs.” Roman muttered. “Until we see how bad off he is, nothing you can say will make things better.”

“Did-did they say what happened, Janus?” Patton asked, softly.

“No, all the hospital said was that he was admitted with several injuries and that I was the first listed emergency contact in his phone.”

“Well, I suppose you would be as your name comes first alphabetically.” Logan mused.

“Of course Wine Mom would be all of our emergency contact.” Virgil commented sarcastically.

“Excuse you, but Logan is mine. I wouldn’t trust the rest of you misfits to actually do anything productive if anyone contacted you all.” Janus spat back, glad for the momentary distraction.

“Fair.”

“You got me there.”

“True, but why you gotta call us out like this?”

There was a small chuckle that passed through the van, but almost as if some invisible barrier ripped the sound from the van, the mood soured as they entered the hospital parking lot. It took Logan a few minutes to find a parking spot and that managed to ramp up the tension and apprehension among the group, terrified of what they would find.

“Pat, you sure you can face Remus right now? I think we’d all understand if you decided to just sit outside the door and wait to hear how he is.” Janus asked, softly.

“No, no, I get that it was an accident. We’ve all walked into one of the twins’ pranks by accident. Accidents happen and I also want to see that he’ll be OK.” Patton answered before admitting, “though, I will need everyone else to open the Crofters jar for at least a month in case there is another giant creepy crawly death dealer in one of them…”

So, with that, the group went into the hospital. Janus went and talked to a nurse who directed him to the room Remus was in. Upon hearing the room number, Janus instantly asked if he had asked to be placed there, which made the nurse laugh. So, with that, the group headed up to room 6969.

“POOPY!”

“Sounds like he’s alive at least.” Roman commented.

A nurse came out of the room, shaking her head. She looked over the group before peeking back into the room and telling the occupant that he had company. The group shared a worried look before filing into the room.

Remus sat in a hospital bed with scratches and gaze all over him. His arm was in a sling, his foot in a cast, and a couple sets of stitches were hidden behind gaze or the hospital gown he was wearing. Despite this, Remus was cackling and being his odd self, so the group let out a collective breath, relieved to see he was alright, for the most part.

“How are you feeling, Ree?” Roman asked, moving over to his twin.

“Mhhhh, like cotton candy sprayed with mist.”

“So, that’s what? Like a 3 on the Remus scale?” Virgil asked.

“I would guess a bit higher but also toned done by medication.” Logan answered. “He would not use a nice analogy like that unless he were sort of out of it.”

“What happened, Remus? Did someone try to mug you or something?” Janus asked.

“Yup, and the racoon won both the fight and my trash-pizza.”

The group froze, staring at the chaotic man before Patton finally asked. “You lost a fight to… a racoon?”

“Yuuuuuuuuup.”

“Remus,” Roman sighed. “You are such an idiot. Don’t do something like this again. You scared all of us to death.”

The hurt one instantly froze, his eyes shooting onto Patton, as he remembered the fact he really scared one of his friends. “Oh, shit. Patty, I’m so sorry for what happened earlier! It was an accident! I was trying to get RoRo BroBro, not you.”

Patton moved over and set a comforting hand on Remus’ unhurt arm. “It’s OK, I know it was. You don’t need to beat yourself up over it.”

“Remus, did you seriously lose a tooth to a racoon!?!”

***

The hospital released Remus a bit later, informing him (and more importantly Logan and Janus) about follow ups and care info. The group then dragged Remus to their van before picking up some (not trash) pizza and heading home. Patton tried to join in on pampering Remus, but their friends stopped him and basically forced the happy pappy Patton on the couch next to Remus, reminding him that he was also hurt and on the pampering list. So, instead Patton curled up and cuddled Remus while the other four went around prepping snacks, movies, games, and whatever else they could scrounge up to make sure the chaotic rat and pun-tastic father-figure were entertained.

Soon enough, Remus was surrounded by the group of people he considered his family (brother, what brother? Remus obviously doesn’t have a twin brother named Roman. That’s just his friend Wroammin). They weren’t going to let Remus live down the fact he lost a fight to a racoon, but how could he stop them making fun of it? It was hilarious and even more, they were checking on him every hour to make sure he was alright and comfortable, so they deserved a good laugh.

And if Remus’ brain tried to throw a couple intrusive thoughts at him, they didn’t stand a chance against the love surrounding Remus. Those weren’t his thoughts because his thoughts were focused on listening to Roman and Virgil argue about Disney meanings, cuddling Patton and waiting for Logan and Janus to return from the kitchen with drinks for everyone. How could disturbing thoughts harm him when he was feeling loved despite all of his failings?

“Remus, Thomas just texted me saying you were in their dumpster earlier. Did you really lose a fight with a racoon behind the Dennys?”

“Yuuuuuuuuuuuup.”

#Sage writes #sympathetic remus #sympathetic deceit #food mention #injury mention #hospital #tarantula #murder mention #cursing #sandersidesgiftexchange #sandersidesgiftexchange2020 #franthehorsegirl

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tophagentofchaos · 4 years ago

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Modern AU clothes for the Gaang and Azula’s Girl Gang

Bc you know. I saw this post and immediately started thinking about what kind of clothes they’d really wear. I will say that I think Azula, Ty Lee and Mai would as a general rule dress better than the gaang.

Aang: Light up sketchers. Oversized, ratty hoodies that he got at a thrift store for fifty cents that say random things like “Skim Milk” on the front. Lives in sweatpants. Inexplicably has a collection of those plastic rain ponchos.

Katara: Probably the only member of the gaang who puts some real thought into how they dress. Sometimes does the cami over t-shirt thing, but knee length skirts and cute blouses are her go to’s. Always wears shorts under because she still wants to be able to run around and do things, but she’s also on the debate team, and has a reputation to uphold.

Sokka: Wears cropped tops 80′s football player style, but the shirts he chooses to crop/cut the sleeves off are from like. The science decathlon he went to with the STEM club and won, his Gremlins movie poster shirt, some shitty graphic tee’s that have terrible puns on them, and a band tee he borrowed from Zuko at a sleepover and never bothered to give back. He also wears crocs and jorts. If he has to be at a more formal event, he swaps the crop top for a Hawaiian shirt. In the winter, swaps out the crops for just the most atrocious sweaters imaginable.

Suki: Looks cool no matter what she wears to Sokka’s chagrin but that doesn’t mean she dresses well. Has some busted up white converse she’s had for the past five years that are held together with duct tape and prayer. Has an extensive collection of trucker hats for no discernible reason. Probably just wears t-shirts and jeans, or basketball shorts for Maximum Mobility™

Toph: Does not care how she dresses in the most chaotic way. Has worn those fuzzy worms as a bracelet before. Sokka didn’t even know her ears were pierced to begin with. Comes to class most days dressed like Elton John at a funeral: that is, muted and restrained for Elton John, but fucking WILD for everyone else. The most casual outfit she’s worn this week has been a neon orange shirt with the word “Matriarchy” in giant bubble letters on the front, some green pants with a pear patch sewn onto the knee, and a pair of cheap rubber slippers with avocados all over them. Definitely steals and shares clothes with Sokka, who is glad someone appreciates his fashion, Katara—

Zuko: Black ripped skinny jeans and MCR shirts. His dad makes him leave the house in khakis and polos, but he changes when he comes to school in a quiet act of rebellion.

Azula: Dresses like business majors dress at a university. She doesn’t know how to interact with people but she still needs to look put together because she’s Azula and her lack of one on one social skills does not make her any less formidable. She’s always in slacks, a nice button up, and nice lace up shoes. All her shit is impeccably tailored, but looks a little old on her.

Ty Lee: Exists in yoga pants as she should. Wears comfortable running shoes bc who knows when she’ll get dared to scale a building. Usually wears a cute top and/or cardigan with them because just because she’s mobile doesn’t mean she doesn’t want to look cute :)

Mai: Doesn’t want to look cute. Gives Morticia Addams a run for her money. She doesn’t wear all black, but the lightest she goes is dark red. Wears turtlenecks during summer. Yes, she’ll wear a swimsuit to the beach but that’s IT. Everywhere else is turtleneck zone. Her stuff is also impeccably tailored bc like Azula/Zuko, her parents are rich as fuck.

#atla

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gofordrakgo · 4 years ago

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Friends

“ ‘Are you going to watch a movie?’ Shego glanced behind her to see Drakken standing in the doorway. It always threw her off to see him in clothing that differed from his usual lab coat. Seeing him now in black jeans and a light blue T-shirt made her blink. ‘I don’t know. I guess so,’ she lied. She wasn’t about to tell him that she’d only been looking through the movies because she’d been thinking about him.”

Shego never really spent much time thinking about Drakken. Sure, she wondered what fruitless plan to take over the world he would come up with next, and sure she cursed his name every time he got them caught, and sure she always worried about him a bit while they were in prison. But she never thought about him.

She sat on the couch in the common area of the lair, staring at the medal he’d been given after the Lowardian invasion. It glinted in the sunlight, shining and iridescent above the fireplace. She hated it. That sounded harsh, but in a way that was the truth. She couldn’t possibly be more proud of Drakken, but she still hated what the medal represented. Not their overnight change from villains to heroes, though it surprised her she found she didn’t really care that much either way. No - rather, what upset her was that every time she looked at it she remembered once again that she almost lost him that night.

They’d had more than their fair sure of rough patches in life. She’d spent hours patching him up, cleaning out cuts and icing bruises, and he had spent as much, if not more, time doing the same for her. It didn’t matter. None of it compared to the way she felt as she watched him disappear into the sky when she could do nothing more than uselessly reach a hand out towards him and listen to his screams. That moment damn near broke her. It hurt her enough to go looking for Kim freaking Possible for help.

For the first time since she’d met him, she realized that she could lose him. He’d become a sort of permanent fixture in her mind. Something that she’d grown so used to that being without it would be bizarre. Leaving him for quick vacations was one thing. The idea of never getting him back was another thing entirely.

Every time she looked at that damn medal it reminded her that anything could happen to him, that she could lose him at any time. And those thoughts spiraled into what she would do if something did happen - if he left, or died, or was injured so badly that he’d never be the same again.

Hell, he’d mutated in front of her eyes and, although it freaked her out, she hadn’t been particularly frightened. Her only response - after they were sure he wasn’t going to drop dead where he stood - was to tease him for the petals that bloomed around his neck. What if mocking him, purposefully upsetting him, had been the last thing she’d ever done?

When he gave his acceptance speech, a very eloquently put ‘fuck you’ to those that didn’t believe in him, his vines wrapped around her waist, crushing her chest into his as he said that he never could have done any of it without her.

Flustered by the shock of finding herself so suddenly close to him and embarrassed by the number of people who saw it happen, she considered blasting him as far away from her as possible. And then she just… didn’t. Maybe it had been the way he’d tentatively smiled at her, though she thought maybe she’d smiled first. Maybe it had been how warm he was or how well they fit together.

In the week that passed since all of that happened, Shego, who never really thought about Drakken much, couldn’t get him out of her mind.

She knew every single one of his flaws.

His sweet tooth rivaled that of a toddler, and she often found candy wrappers lingering in the lab, or squished between the couch cushions. If he was upset she was bound to find him baking some sort of sweet-treat that he would gorge himself on if she didn’t stop him.

He fidgeted constantly, whether that meant shifting in place or messing with things he shouldn’t. Once he blew up the TV she had just stolen because he wouldn’t quit fiddling with a malfunctioning ray gun, even after she told him to put it away.

He scared easily, hiding under blankets when they watched horror movies and gluing himself to her side when the power went out and the only light in the lair came from her plasma powers.

He tapped his fingers, he hated her music, he was quick to anger, and way too quick to forgive. He obsessed over ideas, even when he knew they would go nowhere. His sleep schedule was nearly nonexistent, he didn’t care about taking tropical vacations, he always cared too much about what she thought of him - except the times when he didn’t care about her at all. He probably wanted kids. He was obsessed with karaoke, all his favorite movies were meant for children, and…

Shego’s mind froze, mid-thought

What was Drakken’s favorite movie? She knew he loved that dumb snowman movie, because he made her watch it every Christmas, but thinking back on all of their past movie nights she couldn’t remember one that he’d actually chosen the movie for.

He hated horror movies, she knew that, and yet nearly every movie she could recall watching with him was a horror movie. There’d been Bloodbath - a movie about a serial killer whose litany of victims were tortured and killed in brutal and unique ways, and Halley’s Comment - a more humorous horror film about a girl so distracted by her personal life that she was oblivious to the world being destroyed by a comet outside her window. It was funny, but the background horror had even had her on edge. Granted, she believed her anxieties surrounding comets were fairly justifiable, all things considered.

There’d also been The Glistening, Juvenile’s Game, That, and Yell. All of them had been her choices, and he’d spent almost all of them clutching his knees to his chest and watching from between the gaps in his fingers.

Shego rubbed her temples. She had to know what his favorite movie was. Why didn’t she know? She had to. They had a movie night at least once a week, if not more! How could she not know?

She leapt off the couch, and threw open the doors to the tv stand, scanning through their movie collection. She recognized a few musicals that belonged to him, some old cartoons, comedies, and a number of science-fiction and fantasy movies. He’d asked her to watch some of them with him: The Warlock of Zo, King of the Necklaces, Galaxy Fights… She couldn’t remember ever actually agreeing. Was his favorite The Tiger Ruler? Triassic Grounds? She should know the answer to this.

“Are you going to watch a movie?”

Shego glanced behind her to see Drakken standing in the doorway. It always threw her off to see him in clothing that differed from his usual lab coat. Seeing him now in black jeans and a light blue T-shirt made her blink.

“I don’t know. I guess so,” she lied. She wasn’t about to tell him that she’d only been looking through the movies because she’d been thinking about him.

He tucked his thumb into his pocket. “Can I join you? I’ll make popcorn.”

Why didn’t he bother to ask what movie she was going to watch? If he actually hated her choices shouldn’t he try avoiding movie nights? What was his deal? And - gah! - why couldn’t she stop thinking about him?

“Yeah, sure,” she agreed, then added, “Make two bags!”

He returned a few minutes later carrying a giant bowl filled to the brim with popcorn, the buttery scent infiltrating the air.

“What are you watching?” he asked, and she heard the bowl clink gently onto the table. A stray piece of popcorn bounced down next to her.

He always made the snacks for the movies, she realized. She could heat up a bag of popcorn too, but he always did it anyway. And a lot of the time he didn’t just make popcorn, but rather he’d set up an entire array of snacks and candies as if they were actually at a movie theater. Once, memorably, he set up a chocolate fountain that he’d found abandoned in his mother’s attic.

She rarely let him pick the movie, but he made the snacks anyway. Could she say she would do the same?

“Um... I don’t know,” she answered. “Why don’t you choose?” She pushed herself up and turned around to see him staring at her, obviously baffled by the unusual offer.

“Really?” he asked after a pause that bordered on awkward. “Is this some sort of trick? You’ve replaced my movies with horror movies, haven’t you?” he accused, rushing past her towards the TV stand.

He pulled a VHS out, seemingly at random, and opened it, sighing in relief when he saw she hadn’t messed with his movies.

She snorted and gave his shoulder a gentle shove. “Wow, tell me what you really think of me, Doc.”

“Well, it’s not as if you’ve ever liked watching my movies, Shego. What was I meant to expect? That you suddenly wanted to watch something I’d actually enjoy instead of something gruesome and horrible?” The way he spoke didn’t seem at all cruel, or even particularly upset about her history of movie decisions. Instead, he spoke like he would be shrugging if only he weren’t busy hunching over to choose a movie. It still made her feel guilty somehow, which was not an emotion she was - or planned to become - accustomed to.

“Just pick a movie,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. As she moved to sit on the couch, she could hear him whispering titles to himself.

He finally made a choice and hesitated for a brief moment before popping it in the VCR without telling her what he’d chosen.

As she watched the actors dancing and heard bits and pieces of songs that were bound to play throughout the movie, she figured out that he’d put on Fancy-Free even before the title scrawled across the scene in bright purple letters.

She suppressed a groan, knowing that she really had nothing to be annoyed about. She’d never actually seen it… Maybe he was right and she would like it. Although, a bunch of snot-nosed teenagers getting into trouble for liking music seemed ridiculous to her.

“You said I could choose,” Drakken reminded her, a pleading note in his voice before she had the chance to say anything herself.

She forced herself to shrug. “Do you see me changing it?”

He grinned at her and practically bounced into his usual seat next to her. She had a flash of desire that distracted her for the first ten minutes of the movie. Since when did she want Drakken to sit… closer? There was barely more than a few inches of space between them already. Since when did she want him to close that distance?

She had to force her brain to shut off, so she could at least watch the movie, if not actually enjoy it.

She discovered fairly quickly that Drakken had been right. She loved the movie. Snot-nosed teenagers or not, the movie was fun. By the end she found herself mouthing along as the titular song played the movie off.

“What?” she asked when she caught him staring at her an absent sort of smile on his face. It melted into a full-on smirk when she addressed him.

“I’ve been trying to get you to watch this movie for three years,” he said. “You always said you wouldn’t like it.”

“Yeah. Well, I–” She almost told him she didn’t, because she knew that he’d roll his eyes but otherwise leave well enough alone. “Shut up,” she said instead, half a giggle escaping her before she managed to choke it down. “It was… fun, but I still don’t get why you love it so much.”

“I saw it when it first came out when I was in college,” he began, leaning back against the couch. Again, Shego wanted to move closer to him. “I didn’t really care about it at first, but it became my favorite movie after the first time I went to karaoke night. Fancy-Free was the first song I ever performed since all the other songs on the list had already been sung at least twice. I got a standing ovation, you know.”

She liked seeing him talk about good memories. He so rarely did. Most of what she knew about his childhood were things that had gone wrong. The bully down the street that she never actually listened to stories about long enough to find out what he’d done, his father’s disappearance when he was nine that she never asked for details on, failed experiments, and failed attempts at making friends. She’d heard about it all, not that she listened to him.

“Are we friends?” she blurted suddenly before she even realized that she’d thought the words.

He froze mid-sentence. “Wha– What?”

“I… I don’t know.” She shook her head, already wishing she hadn’t spoken at all. What the hell did she think she was doing?

“No, wait, Shego! What do you mean?”

“I mean, we don’t like any of the same things! I hate karaoke, you love it. I love horror movies, you get all freaked every time we watch one. I want to go to the Bahamas or Hawaii for vacation, and your idea of a good time is baking cookies or building a robot. You’re a scientist and I–”

Shego stopped herself before she could say that she was stupid. She knew she wasn’t, she’d graduated college after all, but she still sometimes felt intimidated by how smart he actually was. She didn’t bother learning how most of his inventions worked, because he seemed to always be moving onto something new before she’d wrapped her head around the last project. He had trouble with words sometimes, but she’d figured out after less than a week of working with him that it was a matter of his brain moving faster than even he could keep up with, rather than actual stupidity.

After her rant, she expected… something from him. Anything. A rant of his own, a shocked reaction, just something. What she got instead was a strange look and a simple, “So?”

“What do you mean, ‘so?’” Shego found herself getting angry quite suddenly.

He shrugged. “I mean, ‘so.’ I know you don’t like karaoke, but you always come with me. Sometimes you even sing.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“And no, I don’t like watching horror movies but… well.” Drakken started to look flustered, nervous even. Like her, he was never great with emotions. He tapped the remote against his knee, before dropping it to the couch, and began lacing his fingers instead. “You do, so I watch them with you because… I guess because we are friends - aren’t we?”

“Yeah,” she sighed, hoping he couldn’t tell how much it relieved her to hear him say that. “Yeah, I guess we are.” What kind of a shitty friend was she though?

“Shego?”

“Yeah?”

“We both like the movie.” He gestured towards the screen as the credits cut to static and white noise. For a moment she stared at him, then she snickered, and then she began to laugh. Soon enough they were both cackling, blissfully leaving behind the feeling of dread the conversation had caused to coil up in her chest.

“If you ever tell anyone that I watched - let alone enjoyed - this movie I’ll set your teddy bear on fire.”

#drakgo #drakken #shego #fanfiction #drakgo fanfiction #shego x drakken #drakken x shego #gofordrakgo #oneshot #Friends #9 pages #2587 words

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aurmgoldau · 4 years ago

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Team GOLD - Part 7

-Main Index-

-Previous Part-

=======

Somewhere in the net, Ochre read that dark places tended to create an unpleasant atmosphere that made dark thoughts filled the mind. It was a perfect set-up if Ochre wanted to be reminded about his family’s situation, but Gray and Dee followed closely behind him, making Ochre aware that they both relied on him. He couldn’t get distracted.

Well, it was difficult not to get distracted if your team leader’s head hit the ceiling every once a while … Having big, tall stature had its own disadvantage.

“Why is this happened to us?” Dee’s voice echoed from behind. “This is our first mission and bad things already happened.”

“How naive are you to think hunters’ business is nice and safe?” Ochre sniffed. King Taijitu’s scent was strong. They were on the right track. “And do you forget that you were almost killed during the initiation? Because your Aura hasn't been activated?”

“Ooooohh, good point.”

“And that stupid cat wasn’t being helpful back then,” Ochre grumbled. “You could die because she wasn’t smart enough—”

“Not the best time to raise this topic, but—ow!”

Gray hit the ceiling again.

“Put one of your hand up,” Ochre said. “Yes, like that.”

“What did you wanna say, Chief?”

“I haven’t told you that Li never attended any school before, right?” Gray grunted when his hand brushed another low ceiling. He crouched and this time not hitting his head. “I was called by the principal to discuss this matter. He was concerned that not only she never attended combat school, Li is too young to catch up with learning. He was about to reshuffle our team arrangement, but on the other hand, he’d like to give us a chance for a bit longer. I said to him to give us more time.”

“But—” Ochre scratched his head. “But we need to pass combat school first before applying to the academy. It’s the requirement!”

“Not for the scholarship, remember?” Dee replied. “Y’know I don’t have any of those bloody certificates or diplomas or what-what from combat school. I’m too old to attend combat school and none of my direct family is a huntsman or huntress.”

“Me neither. But I had a huntsman help me with a recommendation letter and skill test from combat school.”

“Skill test—what?! I don’t need to pay those bloody scumbags to fake the documents needed to apply to the academy?”

“You did what?!”

There were so many unexpected things that came up. Ochre pinched the bridge of his nose, confused to find out he was the only one who was a formal graduate from combat school. They didn’t talk much about their past education. Dee was the only one who kept saying she skipped combat school and even with those frequent statements, Ochre still forgot the requirement for their scholarship was different.

“Let’s put this topic for later,” Gray mumbled. “If you really want to talk about it again.”

“We definitely need to adjust our knowledge level,” Ochre added. “But, later.”

“Ochre, how well do you know about Grimm behaviour?” Gray asked.

“Just enough. Why?”

“I think it was odd for the King Taijitu to retreat rather than continue attacking us. Grimm is supposed to be attracted to negative emotions, right?”

Good question.

Ochre walked slower. “What did everyone say about its size? Normal? Too big?”

“Ain’t remember anyone said too big, so I suppose it’s normal?” Dee combed her short hair with fingers. “Ya, Chief?”

“Yes. I suppose it’s normal sized.”

“Just like you suggested, its behaviour was off.” Ochre squinted his eyes, trying to get a better look of his surroundings. King Taijitu’s scent was all over the place and Ochre needed another hint to determine where the creature went. “Anyway, don’t kill King Taijitu at all cost before we manage to save--to save … her.”

“Never thought there’ll be the day where I have to fight in the darkness,” Dee commented.

Gray made a low hum. “We can bring some light, actually.”

He gestured to both Ochre and Dee, pointing at a cluster of crystal near the cave wall. Ochre aimed the flashlight over there. He immediately recognized the crystal as raw Dust crystal. But Ochre couldn’t determine what elemental the crystal was.

“This is a composite Dust,” Gray explained. “We called it the Glow Dust. The lightstick we bring is chemical-based and it lasts around 6 hours lifetime, while Dust-based lightstick can last at least a whole week.”

“Can we light this one up, Chief?”

“Yes. Using Aura or lightning or fire Dust. It will last longer with Aura.”

“But if we can see the Grimm, they can also--wait …” Ochre paused mid-sentence. “Is this the same material for flash grenade?”

“I’m not sure,” Gray frowned. “But I always hear the miner warned each other about not dropping this composite Dust if you don’t want to be blind.”

“Blind???” Dee hissed. “That’s dangerous! Super-duper dangerous!”

“If we can use it to blind the Grimm for our advantage …,” Ochre suggested. He was sure Gray would reject it.

“That might work.” Gray, unexpectedly, agreed. He dug out a few composite Dust crystal and divided several pieces to his teammates. “The blinding effect isn’t permanent. For now, find the Grimm, surveyed the surroundings really quick, and then disable it without killing it.”

“We can kill one of King Taijitu’s heads and pin it to the ground.” Ochre nodded. “It can stay alive with only one head.”

“I start to suspect not all Hunters went through this kind of situation.” Dee squinted her eyes.

“Experience is what differs us with others,” Gray replied.

The moment they arrived in another vast room, Ochre almost choked. The scent was unbearable. It wasn’t just King Taijitu’s scent, or if it was, there must be something really wrong with this Grimm.

Even Gray and Dee who weren’t by default able to smell anything seemed to be bothered.

“So …,” Dee quietly unsheathed her hookswords, “where is it?”

Ochre aimed the flashlight and the light shone on a scaly shadow.

“It’s not moving.”

“But it’s breathing.”

“We need to get closer.” Ochre didn’t like his own suggestion. “We can’t make anything from here.”

The trio tread closer to the Grimm. Ochre carefully shone King Taijitu’s body again.

“I see …”

This King Taijitu had lost one of its head either by a Hunter or an accident inside this cave. Accustomed to synchronous movement of a two-headed snake, the Grimm appeared to be “limping” after it lost the other head. That was probably the reason why it changed its attack pattern into a hit-and-run.

Before Ochre could think anything to approach this problem, a loud thud echoed throughout the cave interior.

Once again, Gray hit his head. This time it was a rather big stalactite.

The Grimm wriggled and slithered. It hissed and found the trio with almost no effort.

“Dee, light up one crystal and close your eyes immediately.” Ochre shoved his share of composite Dust to Dee’s palm.

King Taijitu hissed and moved its head towards Dee.

“Fire in the hole!!!”

Dee hit the crystal with her hooksword, sending it flying to King Taijitu’s head. Ignited by the lightning Dust loaded in Dee’s hooksword, the crystal “exploded” with a blast of light. King Taijitu hissed, blinded by the ignition.

“Tail!” Ochre motioned at the other end of the Grimm.

Dee followed, tapping her hooksword to random scattered composite crystal, just enough to help everyone see.

“Bloody—!”

Were it a second later, Dee would have ended in King Taijitu’s stomach. The giant snake rammed its head to Dee and Ochre. Dee kicked Ochre away before she jumped to the opposite side, avoiding the attack.

King Taijitu turned its attention to Ochre.

“Oh dear ….”

The only plan Ochre could think about now was to run for his lives. To make things worse, Ochre was on the side where Dee hadn’t light any composite Dust crystal yet.

Can I make him ram into the wall? Ochre thought. He didn’t look behind to see how close King Taijitu was to him, but Ochre could somehow feel the creature’s breath on his neck, which wasn’t good at all.

Ochre took a sudden turn, trying to trick the monster. He didn’t see the slope in front of him before too late. He slipped and fell, sliding down the slope. It was probably his luck that Ochre hit a stalagmite, stopping his falling.

However, King Taijitu was still on him.

“Dog-chre!” That was Dee, shouting from somewhere on Ochre’s right. She somehow managed to catch up and now hanging on one of the stalagmite with her hooksword. Dee stretched her hand toward Ochre. “Jump!”

Half jumping half skidding on the slope, Ochre reached Dee. King Taijitu missed him. Again. And it upset the creature.

“Now what?” Ochre tried to catch his breath. “It’s still chasing us.”

“Chief said he has a plan,” Dee said. “Sort of.”

“We need something better than ‘some sort of plan’.”

Dee grabbed Ochre and pulled him, sliding on the slope once again. She stopped her falling by hooking another protruding stalagmite.

King Taijitu gave a chase, only to stop before it could reach Dee or Ochre. It hissed and looked behind. Something pulled King Taijitu up and the creature struggled back.

“Hey, Monkey, do you think you can hit and light the composite Dust, aiming it into the snake mouth?”

“Never tried it. Should I?”

Ochre never answered the question. King Taijitu had freed itself and rushed toward Dee and Ochre. Panicked, Dee did the only thinkable at the moment: jump and let herself sliding down. However, this was the perfect timing to do Ochre’s plan and Ochre needed to keep close with the creature instead of distancing himself.

Or ….

Ochre took out one of his boomerang, the one loaded with fire Dust. He threw himself onto a huge chunk of crystal composite. King Taijitu passed him, but then it stopped, and turned around. Instead of chasing Dee, it turned its attention to Ochre.

“Dog-chre! Jump! Run!” Dee’s scream echoed. “Whatever! Just stay away from the monster!”

King Taijitu moved. Really fast. Its mouth was opened.

Ochre leapt in the last second. His boomerang, stuck on the crystal composite, exploded. Flash of light flooded the cave. There was a crashing sound, but Ochre didn’t see what happened. He was sliding down, blinded by the light and couldn’t see his surroundings.

Something hit Ochre’s back. He landed on a protruding rock structure. He was (probably) doomed. Ochre couldn’t see well and from the noise he heard, King Taijitu was alive. His plan failed.

Failed.

Snake and reptile couldn’t scream, Ochre was pretty sure of that, but he was also sure that he heard King Taijitu let out a “scream”. It sounded like it was in pain.

And then silence.

For a few seconds, Ochre listened to his own breathing. He hadn’t regained his eyesight back after the light explosion and could only rely on his ears to guess what happened. There was scratching noise and something sliding down somewhere nearby—

“LI!”

Frantic steps that followed after must be Dee. Ochre started to see better and now moved slowly, repositioning himself. Dee made a chattering noise, saying how glad she was that Li was alright.

Ochre let out a relieved breath.

=======

-Team AURM and Team GOLD Main Index-

#team gold #sfw #main story

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weird-incarnate · 4 years ago

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Angel.Exe: The Worst Time to Confess

I’m a sucker for angst and shipping content. Gotta make it hurt

TW: Guns, Attempted Murder, Near Death Experience, Valentine literally falls off a building

Summary: Valentine dreaded the day Damien would find her. That day happens to be today. With no where to run, will she be able to survive the wrath of the man who stole her wings?

Dr. Valentine studied the letter she received with worried eyes. The letters were written in a familiar drawl and she knew only one person on this damned planet that called her sweetheart. It meant the obvious. Damien had found her. Again. Swearing, Valentine threw the letter across the room, knowing she’d have to cancel her outing with Dr. Charles Afton. It really was the last thing she should’ve been worried about to be completely honest, but that strange doctor had come to mean a lot to her lately, as much as she denied it to Mortus. When doing procedures on patients, she finds herself wishing the doctor was there to help her, so she could witness his expertise. When cooking food she wonders what his favorite meal is, and if she could learn to make it. When she dresses up for the day, she hopes she runs into him, if anything to try and earn a compliment from him. The man was a brick wall half the time, but when she got even the slightest bit of a reaction, it made her heart flutter.

She really didn’t want to cancel on meeting with Afton at the park where they had their first encounter. He hadn’t exactly saved her life that day as she had told him. If anything saved her the pain of being stuck inside healing for several months. It wasn’t that easy to kill an angel. But by God did it take forever to heal.

Shaking her head at the memories of Afton, she moved to message the doctor on her computer hoping he wasn’t busy.

Valentine: Hey. Something’s come up with me personally. I can’t go out for a while. I’m really sorry to cancel but it’s important.

She clicked send hoping he wouldn’t ask further questions. She saw the three dots on the screen pop up, and disappear, then reappear. He was probably figuring out what to type.

Afton: S’okay. Stay safe.

Valentine rolled her eyes at his brief answer, smiling. Part of her wanted to invite Afton over to the house, but she knew Mortus would throw a fit. He wasn’t there to watch them like hawks to make sure no debauchery was afoot. Frankly, Valentine couldn’t care less about the specific “debauchery” Mortus accused her of trying to achieve. She just wanted to have some company knowing she’d have to lay low for a while.

Accepting her fate, she stood up and examined herself in the mirror. She was having a good pain day so she was capable of standing and walking for a couple minutes at a time. Vanity was never something that came to Valentine naturally because of her condition. She was scarred up from the attempts on her life, not to mention the giant scars on her back that had caused damage to her ability to walk. She turned around, craning her neck to evaluate the scars in the mirror, before admitting defeat and pulling a pink oversized sweater on over her underthings. She was completely admitting defeat at this point. May as well not bother with pants and just get some cleaning done. It’d be awhile before she could go back outside.

Or at least that’s what she thought.

Valentine had been about two hours into cleaning while streaming a random show she had found when she heard a knock on the door. Confused, she pulled on her doctor's mask and adjusted her sweater to cover her up as best as it could. She stumbled over to the door, her legs starting to complain about the strain she’d been putting them under, and opened the door without thinking. To be greeted with the worst thing she could’ve.

Damien Matterson. The man who stole her wings.

She reacted by immediately slamming the door shut, or at least trying to as she scrambled out of the entryway and into the living room.

“Oh come on sweetheart! Is that how you greet an old friend?” He cackled, his proud horns glowing red with energy as he watched her scramble away and out the back door, “So we’re gonna do the chasing game. So be it.”

He stormed after her, not noticing the purple sparks dripping from the TV as he gave chase. What Valentine lacked in speed, and dexterity, she made up for with her quick thinking and evasiveness. She had managed to shove down several random items in the back alleyway onto him slowing him down, and scrambled inside an old building that was set to be demolished in a week. Jumping inside an abandoned crate, she yanked the lid on top and tilted her head up trying to quiet her breathing. Oh she was dead, she was so dead. She didn’t have her phone with her to call Mortus or anyone who would have helped. Immediately, her brain jumped to Charles Afton. She never got to tell him she loved him. Fuck, she loved him. It was the first time she admitted it to herself, but what better of a time than when you’re about to die.

Valentine wasn’t able to think about that for much longer as Damien ripped off the lid to the crate and gripped her by the arm, yanking her out and holding her out in front of him. She tried kicking and struggling but his grip just tightened as he bore down at her with his black eyes. Valentine whimpered as he dragged her through the building, making sure to smack her against as many things he could, till she was battered and bruised. Her mask had fallen off at some point allowing her face to get scratched up. He didn't stop till they reached the rooftop of the old building, which by that point, Valentine had procured several large bruises, cuts and a bloody nose.

“Well, Miss Valentine, it’s been a fun couple centuries hunting you, but I think enough’s enough,” He hissed, lifting Valentine up over the edge of the building, gripping her by her wrist. She looked at him confused. The drop wouldn’t kill her. It would definitely kill a human but not her.

“Uh…?” She dumbly said, staring at him.

“Oh yeah that’s right… Well good thing I brought this!” He chimed with a sick happiness in his voice. He used his spare hand to reach into his satchel and pull out a silver pistol, a sigil carved into its side. Valentine felt the blood drain from her face as she recognized the symbol from a long time ago. The angel sigil of Michael. This gun would kill her near instantly with one shot.

“How did you…?” She mumbled out her eyes wide.

“An old friend of mine hooked me up with something to take out the pesky nephilim problem we’ve been having,” He responded, admiring the gun before pressing it to her forehead. The door that led to the rooftop flew open nearly startling the demon into dropping Valentine, which while not pleasant would’ve been preferable. He looked over his shoulder to the door, as did Valentine and was met with Dr. Charles Afton standing there, looking quite pissed.

“What?! Afton?! Get out of here he’s going to kill you!!” Valentine screamed, her panic starting to rise.

“Oh you know each other? That makes this so much better! Take one step closer and I’ll put this bullet in her head,” Damien threatened.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Afton said, returning the threat. Valentine shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes.

“No! Don’t hurt him please!” Valentine begged, she winced at the panic she heard in her voice but she didn’t care. As long as Afton stayed alive she didn’t care. Damien looked at her, analyzing her face before he started laughing.

“No! Don’t tell me! You’re in love with him! Tell me I’m wrong Valentine!” Damien screamed at her as the tears spilled over in her eyes. She looked at Damien, hatred filling her eyes, before looking at Afton who’s angered expression stopped to one of confusion, he met her gaze and his eyes widened.

“Of course, I love him… He’s saved me so many times, from others, myself… Cruel people like you... How could I not fall in love with him…” Valentine said, her voice soft and calm as she looked away from Afton and towards Damien who was laughing. He had moved the gun away from her skull to laugh at his own sick joke and Valentine realized what she needed to do. She gripped his wrist with her free hand, and fired out a light energy blast from her palm. Damien screamed at the pain and retracted his arm letting her go. She dropped off the edge, and proceeded to fall ten stories. Even though Valentine knew she wouldn’t die, a scream ripped itself from her throat as she felt the weightlessness of her free fall and her hands reached out attempting to grip anything she could but was met with air. She heard a gunshot before her body hit the ground, and everything went black.

. . .

It would take three days for Valentine’s body to heal up enough that she could become conscious. She was immediately aware of the pain in her body the moment she was able to wake up. Could she just.. Go back to sleep? Was that an option?

Unfortunately it was not as she found herself opening her eyes and being met with the ceiling of her room. There was an IV in her arm, something she assumed Mortus had put in to keep her energy stable. She was vaguely aware of the sound of Mortus talking to someone in the living room. Figuring it to be best to get his attention, she called out Mortus’s name.

She was not expecting Mortus to throw open the door to her room that quickly, but what she expected even less was Afton to come barreling in after him. She tilted her head to see them better as Mortus rushed to her side and began asking a slurry of questions. She ignored them all and reached out her arm towards Afton, now noticing just how doped up on meds she was. He hesitated for a moment before walking over to her bedside, and kneeling so he was at her eye level. He would be the first to speak.

“I… thought you died,” He mustered out.

“It takes more than that to kill me,” Valentine said, some of her words slurring together. Mortus checked her vitals quickly before nodding at Afton and leaving them alone.

“. . .Do you remember what you said before you fell?” Afton asked, his eyes reading her face for any sort of emotion. The memories came flooding back to her and she felt the tears well in her eyes again, and a squeaky sob came out.

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to tell you like that but… I thought I was going to die! You… you don’t have to love me back I-I just… I’m sorry!” She babbled out, her chest struggling to keep up with her gasping breaths.

“Shhh…” He comforted, pausing for a moment, “You have nothing to apologize for. It’s okay…Would you at least like to know my response?”

“Huh…?”

“Because… I… I love you too.” Valentine looked at him, her tears running down her face, before smiling and letting out a strangled sob. He responded by petting her hair, just as he had done the first time they met and letting her sob. She would pass out soon after, leaving Afton alone with his thoughts. Admittedly, the biggest one on his mind was him scrapping the idea of using Valentine to his advantage. He had realized he hated seeing her hurt. He had realized he loved her. But the worst realization that hit was the one he was beating himself up about the most.

Damien had escaped and was still out there. Still looking to kill Valentine. And Dr. Afton was not going to let that happen.

#plague doctor #plaguecore #plaguesona #writing #Angel.exe ship tag #hhhh I wrote this in like two hours.

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athingthatwantsvirginia · 5 years ago

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EAT ME

PART NINE OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: mentions of death, underage drinking, mentions of vomit (just two remarks in passing), plentiful pop culture references

Word Count: 5.1K

Summary: After returning from her summer babysitting job, Ella has a rough night. With friends busy and out of town, she eventually ends up on the doorstep of the diner.

With a toddler asleep on her chest and a five-year-old dozing in a makeshift fort on the floor below her, Ella finally got a moment of peace. The Iron Giant hummed at a low volume on the TV, a naptime movie to celebrate her last day babysitting. She loved her aunt’s house, a hippie-dippie pad adorned with tapestries, iscense, and other random items. Ella herself wasn’t into the holistic lifestyle, but she appreciated how much joy her aunt derived from it. The children, two little girls with red hair and big brown eyes, were gentle and silly. Alongside her new husband, Ella’s aunt Julie filled the family household with joy and games. It made Ella nostalgic for a period of her childhood she almost couldn’t remember. Sprawled across the floral print couch, Ella almost fell asleep herself but decided not to screw up her schedule when she was going to have to go back to early morning shifts at Luke’s very soon. Instead, she stretched her arm over, careful not to wake Annie and grabbed the house phone.

After two rings, Luke’s grumbly voice came through the line: “Luke’s Diner.”

“Hey, boss, is Jess there?” Ella spoke in a hushed tone, eyes on the baby as she tucked the afghan which covered the two of them tighter.

He sighed. “With his petri dish of a girlfriend. Hold on one second.”

Ella smirked and waited, listening to the early afternoon commotion of the diner. She’d only called a few times since she’d been gone, and almost every time Luke had to pull Jess away from the mysterious new girl. But Jess always came to the phone, and she made a careful effort to avoid the topic of his girlfriend. Mostly, they discussed the merits of the Chuck Palanuik novel Jess had been reading. It was one of Ella’s favorites.

“Jess Mariano, may I ask who’s calling?” he began.

Ella rolled her eyes at his theatrics. “You’re hilarious.”

“It’s been said,” he replied, the usual amount of cocky. “Why are you whispering?”

“The kids are sleeping. The baby is literally lying on top of me.”

“And when I’m asleep in the middle of the day, suddenly I’m a world-class slacker,” he said.

“Well, the last time I remembered, you’re not two years old.”

Jess scoffed, disinterested. “Semantics.”

“Whatever gets you through the night,” she retorted.

“How’s it been otherwise? Annie still crawling into the bed and kicking you in her sleep?” Jess asked, having caught her in a middle of a sleep-deprived haze the last time they spoke.

She laughed fondly. “Only a little. There was also one projectile vomiting incident, but, hey, at least I got to watch an Exorcist reenactment in real time.”

“What a glamorous summer gig you scored.”

“It’s true.”

“But you’ll be back tomorrow, right?”

“Bright and early. You’re gonna have to fill me in on everything I missed,” she said, noticing how Erin had begun to snore from her place wrapped up in various throw blankets on the floor.

Jess hummed. “Well, let’s see...I think Taylor might have shifted the stand outside the market about an inch. It was on the front page of the Gazette for a week straight.”

“Riveting.”

“That’s one word for it.”

“Oh! I finally finished The Lovely Bones. You’ve got to borrow it when I get b-”

“Hey, sorry, honey,” he interjected, and she heard him mutter some irritated words to someone she couldn’t see. Jury was out on whether it was Luke or some other unlucky Stars Hollow civilian. After a pause, his rushed voice came over the line again: “Look, my new...I gotta go. But tomorrow I’m gonna need a full review.”

“Only if you finish the Palahnuik by the time I clock in,” she wagered.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, and she could practically hear the smirk on his lips.

. . .

Ready to close up and anxious for what awaited her at home, Ella sketched in the notebook her aunt Julie had given her after arriving home from the honeymoon. Since returning to work, spending sweltering days in the AC of the diner, Ella tried to ignore the strange feeling which pulsed through her. Every time Jess’s new girlfriend Shane sauntered in, she had to avert her eyes as they made out, Jess’s hands roaming her body. And not only because of the grotesque amount of PDA they engaged in. But as soon as the uneasy feeling rose in her throat, she began to sketch her feelings away, ignoring the thumping of her heart against her ribs. Jess always insisted on finishing his conversations with her, or saying goodbye to her, before going gallivanting with Shane. And where did she get off feeling jealous? Jess was her jackass coworker, who only bordered on a friend. It was easier to pretend nothing was bothering her, lest her cheeks burn with shame each time the bleach blonde girl walked through the diner doors.

The sky was overcast, but the night was supposed to clear up. With Luke out on some date, she and Jess were the ones charged with boarding up the shop for the night. Caesar had gone home early, since the Friday had been unusually slow and he was pretty much useless when closing anyway. When the last customer departed, though it was ten minutes until official closing time, Ella decided to use her authority to call it quits for the day. However, she first had to wrangle Jess off Shane while they made out on the sidewalk, up against the diner window. Shutting her sketchbook, she grimaced at the task at hand, but strode out confidently with her hands on the hips of her blue jeans.

Clearing her throat, she watched them disentangle themselves from each other, their lips parting with a smack! in the warm night air. Ella rolled her eyes. “Jess, we’re closing. You’ll have to take a rain check on the next round of tonsil tennis.”

Jess only smirked, planting one final kiss on Shane’s cheek before making for the door.

Shane rolled her eyes. “Jess.”

“Relax,” Jess grumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets as he walked away. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Shane shot a look at Ella. “That stick up your ass must hurt like hell.”

Ella only sighed, a unamused smile on her face. “Charming as always, Shane. Come again any time.”

With the situation diffused, Ella rushed back into the diner before Jess, who was chuckling behind her. Ella didn’t utter a word before she began closing, ducking behind the counter to grab the disinfectant spray and a clean rag. If it was possible, Jess thought she looked even more stressed than usual. She had her hair in a messy updo, cheeks flushed red. Her eyes darted around anxiously, her hands fiddling with the silvery chain of her necklace. Luke had almost sent her back home to change when she showed up for her shift, wearing a black t-shirt with the words EAT ME written across the chest in big white letters. Instead of changing though, she argued her way out of it. It was simply an endorsement of the diner’s products, she’d said. Luke’s eyes had rolled nearly up into the back of his head, but, nonetheless, he’d dropped the subject.

“Nice to see you and Shane bonding,” Jess quipped as he began gathering up the salt and pepper shakers to store for the night.

She scoffed. “Yeah, quite a winner you’ve got there.”

Jess raised his brows at her tone. “Are you upset about something?”

“No,” she shot back flatly. “It’s really just such a pleasure to have to watch you tongue-fuck her while I’m at work.”

He straightened up and stopped working, brows furrowed. “Says the girl who’s read Bad Behavior, at that very counter where you now stand, three times.”

Still, she didn’t look up as she sighed heavily. Her voice was tired. “I read it. I didn’t have to be subjected to a visual. Would you just wait to suck face until you’re not in view of the customers who’ve come to eat here?”

“Fine. Sorry,” he snapped angrily, going back to the shakers. “Didn’t mean to offend your delicate sensibilities.”

“Apology accepted,” she shot back.

“Great.”

“Good.”

. . .

Tense silence had stood between them for the remainder of the evening. Later, Jess laid on his twin bed fuming, the night darkening to an inky black. Stars glowed brightly, the moon new and invisible. The apartment over the diner had its familiar pine smell and was lit low by Jess’s desk lamp. He had no idea what time it was, but found it odd Luke still wasn’t back hours after closing. But the solitude meant he could blast his Shags through the speakers he’d brought back from his old room in New York. They were pretty much the most valuable items he owned, and he didn’t get to use them nearly often enough. Jess was nearly done with The Lovely Bones, trying to decipher Ella’s cursive annotations. Of all the books she had traded him, it was perhaps the saddest one yet.

The music was louder than he’d anticipated, as it took nearly four rings of the phone before Jess heard it under the lyrics. He rolled his eyes, but saved his place in the book, turned down the volume, and went to answer.

“Hello?”

“Jess?” came Ella’s voice through the receiver.

He furrowed his brows. “Eleanor?”

“No, it’s Virginia Woolf, back from the dead,” she said, slurring her words.

Jess let a chuckle escape his mouth. “Are you drunk?”

“I guess so. My dad was soooo pissed. He kicked me out, said not to come back until I had my head on straight. I don’t think my head’s been on straight my entire life,” she rambled, her voice husky and sleepy.

“Where are you?” Jess asked, his voice earnest.

“The phone booth on Main Street. Why do they still have this here? It’s such antiquated tech-”

“Just stay right there. I’ll come down,” he said shortly, then hung up before she could respond.

Jess rushed down the stairs and weaved through the dark diner, tables stacked on chairs, leaving the door open as he exited onto the sidewalk. He caught sight of her petite form almost immediately. Out on the deserted street, trudging towards the diner with her hands in her back pockets, watching the sky as she walked. The night was humid. Sighing heavily, Jess came over and touched her arm gently.

Ella flinched, but relaxed when she saw it was him. “Jesus, Mariano. Give a girl some warning.”

Shaking his head slightly, he brought a hand to the small of her back to steady her as they walked. He could smell the alcohol wafting off her, mixed with her normal aroma of lavender and rosemary. “What the hell did you drink?”

“A lot,” she drawled back instantly. They neared the steps of the diner and she blew out a shaky breath. “Can we sit down?”

Before he could even answer, she sat down heavily on the concrete steps. He took the seat beside her, leaving a safe distance between the two of them.

Ella brought her hand to her mouth and started biting at her nails. A warm breeze blew past them. Ella huffed in frustration and took the elastic from her hair clumsily. She ran her hands through her brassy waves and sniffed. Jess glanced over at her and could tell she had been crying. Her hazel eyes were red-rimmed and her mascara was running slightly. Even drunk, she flushed when she saw him looking at her, and wiped her hands over her cheeks self-consciously.

“My dad got engaged,” she said suddenly, frankly.

“Huh.”

“Yep.” There was a pause before she spoke again, crickets singing around them. “We had a fight about it this morning. I got home tonight, and he wouldn’t talk to me. So, I stole a bottle of his tequila to piss him off, get a rise out of him, but then I thought: ‘Fuck it. Just drink it. The day can’t get much worse anyway.’”

Jess nodded, listening.

“But then he kicked me out for the night. So, yeah, it could get worse. Lorelai’s not home, and Rory’s still in Washington. I sure as hell can’t knock on Lane’s door like this. I just wanted to call and say sorry for being such a jackass earlier.”

“I thought I was the jackass here?” he teased offhandedly.

She giggled drunkenly, though her eyes were hazy. “Usually. But, just this once, it was me. Just...a bad day.”

“It’s alright,” he assured her, standing up and holding a hand out to her. “You can crash upstairs. Luke’s out but I’m sure it’s fine.”

Ella shook her head and sighed. “Jess, you don’t have to be nice-”

“Fine, I won’t be nice then. Shut up and take my hand,” he said flatly.

After a long moment, she nodded, grabbing his hand and straightening up. Upon standing, she got dizzy and staggered back.

“Careful, Stevens,” Jess grumbled, hands hovering over her arms for a moment in the event she fell over.

“Shut up,” she snapped, retreating back into the diner.

The way up the stairs was iffy, and by the top Ella was practically holding onto Jess for balance. Jess’s mouth was set in a thin, stern line, though slight worry touched his heart. She sang along quietly with the lyrics of the song which still hummed lowly from the stereo as they entered. It almost made Jess want to smirk, if she hadn��t been so completely smashed. He steered her to his bed, where she immediately flopped onto her back.

“Is this your bed?” she asked, eyes closed and hands behind her head.

“Yes. But tonight it’s yours,” he sighed, shutting both the music and his desk lamp off. In the bluish glow of the room, he saw her sloppily tug off her shoes. Then, she sat forward with her elbows on her knees, head in her hands.

“I can just sleep on the couch or the floor or a park bench. Y’know, a couple years ago Taylor went on this asinine crusade to make the benches more comfortable-”

“Just go to sleep, Eleanor,” he scolded.

“You go to sleep,” she retorted lamely, but nonetheless, she flopped onto her back again and scooted up until her head laid on the pillow. But, her glassy eyes remained open and she stared at the ceiling.

Jess had been fetching her a glass of water, cold from the tap. He was surprised to find her still conscious considering how strong the smell of tequila was when entering her general vicinity. Instead of forcing her to drink the water, a fight which he knew would be fruitless, he just left it on the nightstand.

“Jess?”

“Yes?”

“Do you believe in fate?”

He scoffed, hands in his pockets as he stood by the bed. “Is now really the best time to solve the mysteries of the universe?”

Giggling, Ella let her eyes flutter shut. “No time like the present.” When she spoke again, her voice had a wistful, far-off quality. “I just...my dad told me he proposed to Fiona because it was fate which brought them together and they were immediately in love and all that shit. But he thought he was in love with my mom and looked how that turned out. I just...most of the time I can’t bring myself to believe in fate or love. Not after everything that happened.”

“Hm,” Jess hummed, brows furrowed. He waited for her to continue, as he knew she would.

“Fiona’s not a horrible person. But she acts like she’s my mom,” she said, defeated. “And she wouldn’t shut up this morning about me being disrespectful and just...and I can’t talk to Rory and Lane’s busy with her drums and...you with your girlfriend or whatever she is…”

Jess raised his eyebrows at her last comment, but at just the moment he hoped she would continue, she began to doze off. Her breathing deepened, and Jess sighed again. Before she could completely slip into unconsciousness, he went over and rolled her onto her side. Ella stirred, but did not fully wake. He threw the orangey afghan from the end of the bed over her form.

Creeping over to retrieve the book from his bedside table, Jess was reassured when she curled up into a ball on her side. Before he made it over to the couch where he planned to spend the night, Ella hummed drowsily.

“Jess?” she croaked, peeking through heavy-lidded eyes.

“Yeah, honey?” he asked, grouchy but not angry.

“Thank you,” she slurred, grabbing a handful of the blanket in her fist sleepily.

Jess sighed, and grimaced when a wave of fondness washed over him. “You’re welcome.”

As he flipped through to his marked page, flicking on the floor lamp near the couch and settling in for the night, she began to snore softly. Jess tried to concentrate on the final twenty pages of the book, but knew he would definitely have to reread them.

. . .

Around half past midnight, Luke’s booted footfalls sounded softly up the stairs to the apartment. He was surprised to find the door unlocked, considering how late Jess had been out with Shane the last few Friday nights. Soft, yellowish light illuminated Luke’s side of the apartment. He thought Jess had fallen asleep with a lamp on, and jumped when he found his nephew with his nose in a book on the old brown leather couch.

“Jeez!” he exclaimed as he shut the door behind him.

“Keep it down!” Jess hissed back, saving his place in the book again. Five more pages. “You’ll wake her up.”

“Excuse me?” Luke asked, accusatory, eyebrows raised as he followed Jess’s gaze to the left. He could make out Ella’s face in the dimness, and his confusion only grew. Instantly, he knew Jess had done something. He had to have done something. “What the hell is she doin’ here?”

Jess rolled his eyes as his uncle pointed a finger at him. He hopped up to grab a blanket from the top shelf of the nearby closet. “She called me. She got kicked out for the night and needed a place to crash. I figured it’d be okay.”

“Kicked out?” Luke echoed softly. In all his time knowing Ella, she’d never been one to piss her parents off so severely. The girl worked doubles every weekend and had a four-point-oh GPA. “Why?”

“She was wasted. Stole her dad’s tequila,” Jess explained shortly, shutting off the floor lamp and returning to the couch to get some sleep. It had been a long night to say the least. The twinkly lights of the town square still made for relative visibility in the apartment.

Luke sighed heavily at Jess’s nonchalance and loomed over the couch, not done with the conversation. “Did you get her drunk?”

“No,” Jess answered immediately, angrily. “She managed it all on her own. She’s a big girl, y’know.”

“Shut up,” Luke snapped. “You’re telling me Ella Stevens got drunk on her dad’s tequila and called you for help?”

Jess nodded and looked up at his uncle in aggravation. “Someone give the man a prize.”

“Why would she call you?”

“First, I’m absolutely flattered by your tone,” Jess droned. “Lorelai wasn’t home, she couldn’t go to Lane’s, and Rory’s still in Washington. So, I was choice number four. Quite an honor. She probably figured you’d be the one at home, anyway.”

Luke groaned quietly at his nephew’s attitude, his hands on his hips. After a particularly terrible date, he hadn’t expected to have to solve another problem at home.

Satisfied the game of twenty questions was over, Jess crossed his arms over his chest, turned on his side and closed his eyes.

“I gotta call Jake,” Luke thought aloud, starting towards the phone.

Jess’s eyes flew open and he jumped up to stop Luke. “No!” he blurted out, a hand on his uncle’s arm, and waited a long moment to make sure Ella hadn’t woken.

“Jess, she’s a kid. I have to tell her dad where she is,” Luke explained tiredly, rolling his eyes.

“Really? Her dad who just kicked her out in the middle of the night?” Jess asked doubtfully, eyebrows raised.

Luke sighed again, and seemed to actually ponder Jess’s words.

“Look, just let her sleep it off. I’m sure she’ll still have an earful waiting for her tomorrow morning,” Jess said urgently, his eyes flicking over to his bed.

Taking a long moment to stare thoughtfully at his shoes, Luke finally conceded. “Fine.”

Jess blew out a short breath in relief. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Luke snapped back.

As he retreated back to the couch, Jess caught one last glance at Ella’s sleeping form. Bathed in the starlight, she looked almost ethereal, despite the snoring. “She’ll be fine. I put her on her side so she won’t choke if she throws up or anything. And she’s got water by the bed.”

Furrowing his brows, Luke let a suspicious gaze linger on his nephew. “How’d you know to do that?”

Jess uttered a bitter chuckle. “Liz Danes is my mother. I’m sure you can fill the rest in yourself.”

“Right,” Luke sighed, nodding. He regained his harsh exterior after a moment, pointing a final, warning finger at Jess. “But call me before letting people stay here next time. And, just so we’re clear, there will not be a next time.”

Scoffing, Jess turned on his side away from Luke and gave only a noncommittal grunt as an answer.

. . .

Throwing up in the shower had actually been the high point of her morning. Sneaking out of the apartment at nearly five o’clock, Ella had left nothing more than an empty water glass and a folded afghan on Jess’s bed as traces of her being there. Though the morning was cloudy, her splitting headache still got worse trudging down Main Street back towards her house during sunrise. She’d never been on a walk of shame, and was glad there was no one yet awake to witness it. After unlocking her window with a bobby pin, she’d managed a few more hours of sleep before facing the music of her father’s rage.

However, stealing his alcohol had proved to have at least one silver lining. Ella was the one with the hangover, so Jake had opted just for disappointed yelling instead of screaming and breaking whatever furniture he could get his hands on. Instead, Ella had to sit through two hours of Jake and Fiona standing with arms crossed, looming over her while she sat hunched at the kitchen table. It wasn’t easy with her stomach swirling and her heartbeat throbbing painfully behind her eyes, but it certainly wasn’t the most brutal dressing down she’d ever received. A two-week grounding with the exception of work and school was in order, and Ella made the compulsory show of accepting the punishment. She knew they would likely forget to enforce it anyway, caught up in their own dramas.

A shower and a change of clothes had her looking slightly more human by the time she returned to the diner at noon for her eight-hour shift. At least she wasn’t on the books to close. She tried multiple times to apologize to Luke, but he was disinterested at best. Ella could tell he was disappointed, but she would have to wait it out before he would actually talk it out with her. By her break around four in the afternoon, it had already been a long day of the cold shoulder and demanding Saturday afternoon orders. Rather than staying in the diner for some lunch, she opted for a walk around town to keep the churning in her stomach at bay.

The summer haze cast long shadows on the cracked asphalt. As she passed the town square, she breathed in the clean air and decided the headache might finally be passing. The breeze was picking up, and the sound of the vibrant green leaves rustling in the wind washed over her like ocean waves. The smell of exhaust filled the air as she passed the bus stop, the city bus coming to a screeching halt by the bench next to her. She would have ignored it completely, but Jess caught her eye, deboarding the bus with his hands shoved in his pockets. Ella picked up her pace, but Jess had already seen her. He raced up beside her with a wicked smirk on his lips.

“Wait up, Speed Racer,” he quipped, panting slightly.

She chuckled halfheartedly. “I’ll give you a second to catch your breath.”

“Ah, I think I’m alright,” he assured her with a shrug. “You on break?”

“Yep,” she said shortly, avoiding his eyes. “Where are you coming from?”

“Shangri-la,” he answered instantly. They were circling back around to the square, and Jess tilted his head to the gazebo. “You wanna sit down? You look a little pale.”

“Sure,” she nodded. “I think the tequila’s had a bit of an effect on my complexion.”

Jess laughed. “Yeah, maybe if you hadn’t downed that last liter it wouldn’t be quite as pronounced.”

“Shut up,” she smiled, seeming to relax just a touch. She tucked some rogue wisps of hair behind her ears as they sat down on the bench in the gazebo, the town buzzing with tourist groups and regulars.

Before Jess could make some wiseass remark, Ella cleared her throat and cut to the chase. Her cheeks grew rosy but she powered through the nervous fluttering of her heart. “Look, I’m really sorry about last night.”

“It’s okay,” Jess said, shaking his head dismissively. “I’ve had a few nights like that.”

“But I don’t drink. Ever,” she said, speaking with her hands.

Jess snorted. “I’ll say.”

She scoffed self-consciously. “And I don’t steal my dad’s booze, and get black-out drunk, and steal my friend’s bed and piss off my boss-”

“Luke’ll come around. Compared to the shit I’ve done? You’re living out amateur hour,” he interjected with a smirk. Though he wished it hadn’t, his heart skipped a beat at her so casually calling him a friend. Even in New York, he’d only a few of those, and none of them had kept in contact with him since coming to Stars Hollow. It occurred to him in the moment how he may have never had a friend like her before, someone who wasn’t disappointed in him, who was excited to talk about books, who called even when they were many miles apart.

“Just let me finish,” she said earnestly, raising a hand to him.

Jess bit his lip to keep from chuckling at her stubbornness. “Go on.”

“I’m just so embarrassed and I don’t remember most of what I said but I’m just... I’m sorry,” she said, biting at her nails. Her ears were tinged with red, flesh hot with shame. “And thank you for letting me crash. You really didn’t have to do that and...thank you.”

Sighing through his nose, Jess nodded with more sincerity than she expected.

“And the last time Lane and I went to a party, I tried to recite all the lyrics from the whole Rumors album, so I’m also really sorry if I did that,” she added, a return of some levity.

Jess laughed. “Don’t worry. You’re in the clear.”

She sighed in relief. “Thank God.”

“Seriously, Stevens, don’t be embarrassed. If it makes you feel any better, I once ate a pumpkin raw when I was drunk,” he admitted, his voice low and conspiratory.

A confused grin crossed her face. “What?”

“Yep,” he confirmed, nodding. “I’ve sworn off both forties and Halloween parties since then.”

Ella laughed.

“Does that make you feel better?” he asked.

“A little.” After a moment, the serious air came back. “Thank you, Jess.”

He nodded again. “You’re welcome.”

And, just then, they locked eyes. A charged silence passed between them, and Jess thought he saw something flash behind Ella’s eyes. She had to avert her gaze to hide her blush.

Jess’s stomach did an involuntary flip. But Ella seemed to regain her composure quickly. Had he imagined the look on her face or the redness on her cheeks? When she spoke again, the weight of the moment was gone.

“So, really, where’d you come from? A drug deal? A prostitution ring?” she prodded in curiosity. “A date with Shane?”

Jess shook his head, clearing his throat. “No. Shane and I don’t exactly go on dates,” he joked suggestively.

Something between a grimace and a smirk crossed her lips at his implication. “Gross. But I suppose every relationship is different,” she teased.

“I think ‘relationship’ might be a bit of an overstatement,” he said, shrugging. His face was guarded, but Ella could see the corners of his mouth threatening to tick upwards. “She thinks Oscar Wilde is a type of cocktail.”

“No,” she said in disbelief, giggling a little. Eventually, Jess began to chuckle and both of them laughed together. People passing by raised brows at the two of them. Most of them had never seen Jess smile.

“And we don’t know each other's last names,” Jess continued, biting his lip to fend off another smirk.

She shook her head, but kept giggling. “How romantic.”

“That it is,” he quipped.

Ella smirked and glanced down at her watch.

“My break’s almost over. You coming back to the diner?” she asked, ignoring the still air sitting in the small distance from her face to his own.

He shook his head. “Not yet. I have some things to do.”

“Specific.”

“I know. I am famous for my candor,” he said. “But I’ll be by later to help with dinner. You’ll get your book back with some brand new notes in the margins.”

“Lucky me,” she smiled. “Next on your list….” she paused, racking her brain for one of the many suggestions she’d thought of giving him. “Joan Didion.”

“Is that the lady from LA?” he asked.

“That’s the one. She makes it sound even better than New York.”

“Well, I’ll be the judge of that,” Jess said, watching her rise from her seat. Her black skirt came to her mid-thigh, and he saw some yellowed bruises on her knees. “And you’re in for another classic. Bukowski himself.”

She leaned on the white railing, readying herself to descend the steps and return to the diner. Her eyebrows were raised doubtfully. “We’ll just have to see about that ‘classic’ business.”

“Prepare to eat your words!” he called after her as she rushed away. He could tell she was anxious to be back on time, for fear of even more passive aggression from Luke.

“Ditto!” she returned.

Jess watched her go, disappearing back into Luke’s with her nails chewed. And found himself oddly content in the July afternoon heat.

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