#snafu fanfic

[ruewrote]

ℎ𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑎𝑡 𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑡.

PAIRING: merriell 'snafu' shelton x fem!reader WARNINGS: reunion, no use of y/n GENRE: fluff SONG INSPIRATION: love you like that by dagny WORD COUNT: 1.7k

navigation | ask | merriell shelton masterlist

you’ve set the table perfectly, each plate and glass precisely aligned. the silverware shines, reflecting the warm glow of the candles you lit on a whim. the house is spotless, the floors swept and mopped, every corner dusted, every item placed just so. 

the air is filled with the rich aroma of your cooking. roasted vegetables, gravy simmering on the stove, and his favourite dish in the oven, almost ready. it’s the kind of meal he always loved, simple but hearty, something that tastes like home.

you glance around the room, surveying every detail one last time. this homecoming has been a long time coming, each moment leading up to it feels heavy with anticipation. you want it to be perfect for him, for merriell.

it feels strange calling him that in your head after all this time. he's ‘shelton’ in your letters, the same as he was before he left. but today, finally, he’s coming back to you as your merriell.

you want everything to be just right.

you’ve been waiting for this moment ever since you heard the news. about his return, the end of a stretch of weeks that seemed to last forever. all the quiet nights spent hoping and praying, every letter read and reread until the paper was worn thin, all leading up to this moment. and now, all that’s left to do is wait.

you try to busy yourself with little things, straightening the flowers you placed in the vase by the table, adjusting the curtains, double checking the kitchen. anything to keep your hands from fidgeting and your mind from racing. but every creak of the house, every passing car, sends your heart leaping, wondering if it’s finally him. 

you try to steady your breath, but you can already feel your pulse racing. he’s so close now, just a street or two away, a few minutes more, and you’ll finally be able to see him.

then, through the window, you catch sight of a familiar figure, and your heart skips a beat. it’s him. you can barely make out his face in the fading light outside, but you’d know that stance anywhere. his shoulders, broader than you remember, his stride, a little slower but unmistakable. your love, coming back to you at last.

without thinking, you rush to the door, flinging it open as he steps onto the porch. he’s still in uniform, the faintest dust of travel clinging to him, and there’s a tiredness in his eyes that makes your chest ache. but when he sees you, his face lights up in a way that chases away every worry, every fear that once lingered in your heart. 

in that instant, every moment of waiting fades away, leaving only him.

you don’t even realise you’re moving until your feet are already carrying you across the threshold, out into the cool evening air. the sound of his voice calling your name barely registers as you break into a run. before you know it, you’re in his arms, everything else falls away.

he catches you with a soft “oof” as you leap up, his arms wrapping around you and holding you steady, grounding you. you cling to him as if afraid he might vanish, your arms tight around his neck, your hands buried in his hair. without a word, you press your lips to his, a kiss that’s both fierce and tender, all your relief and love pouring into this one moment.

he kisses you back with a hunger that matches your own, his hands gripping you firmly as if he’s been waiting for this just as long. you can feel his fingers curl gently at the base of your neck, grounding you, his lips soft but insistent, saying everything you’ve both been aching to say without words. 

for a moment, it’s as though nothing has changed, as though the war and the months apart never happened, and it’s just the two of you here, together, like before.

when you finally break the kiss, you rest your forehead against his, your breath mingling, eyes locked in a gaze that holds every unspoken word between you. “i’m home,” he says, his voice rough with emotion, his eyes soft and full of a tenderness that makes your heart swell. “i’m really home.”

you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face as you gently cup his cheek, your thumb brushing along the rough line of stubble. “welcome home, handsome,” you whisper, barely able to keep your voice steady.

his eyes flicker over you, as if drinking in every detail. he reaches up to run a thumb along your cheekbone, his touch warm and familiar. 

he’s here, in front of you, solid and real, and the weight of it nearly takes your breath away.

he glances past you, taking in the room, the candles on the table, the food you spent all afternoon preparing. his lips curve into a small, almost bashful smile as he takes it all in, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “did you do all this? for me?”

a soft laugh escapes you, the sound filled with nothing but love. “for you? i’d do anything.”

he chuckles, pulling you close again, his arms wrapping around you as if he can’t bear to let you go. he dips his head, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, then another to your forehead, his lips lingering there as he inhales, like he’s committing your scent to memory. 

you close your eyes, sinking into the moment, letting yourself be surrounded by him, by the very comfort you’ve missed so desperately.

“come inside,” you murmur, tugging gently on his hand as you lead him toward the table. he follows, and for the first time since he left. everything feels normal again, like home. you sit down across from each other, sharing a smile as you begin the meal, laughter and conversation flowing easily between bites. 

he tells you stories of his friends, memories he’s gathered, moments that shaped him, and you listen, hanging onto every word, feeling closer to him with each one.

after the meal, you clean the dishes together, your hands brushing in the soapy water, each touch sending a thrill through you. the simplicity of it, the ordinary tasks you once took for granted, feels sacred now. you savour every moment, every gentle touch, every quiet laugh.

the last of the dishes are set to dry, and you wipe your hands on a towel, turning to look at him. he’s watching you with a smile, something subtle now, less of the bright, laughing grin from dinner, more like a gentle curve of his lips. he looks at you in a certain way. it’s the kind of look that makes your breath hitch in your throat.

“come on,” you whisper, your voice hushed. “let’s go to bed.”

he doesn’t need any convincing. he follows you willingly, his fingers still entwined with yours as you lead him upstairs, each step creaking softly under your combined weight. it’s familiar, the way you move through the space together, it strikes you just how much you missed this. the quiet, domestic moments, the easy comfort of sharing a home with the person you love.

in your room, the light from the lamp casts a warm, golden glow over everything, bathing the walls in a soft, flickering light. you can feel the tiredness settle into your bones now, but it’s a good kind of tired, one that comes from the relief of having him here, safe and sound.

you turn to face him, your hands coming up to rest on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath. he leans down, brushing a kiss against your temple, you shiver slightly at the feeling of his lips on your skin, his beard tickling you in a way that’s both familiar and new all at once.

you slip out of your clothes and into something more comfortable, watching as he does the same. there’s a moment where he pauses, standing at the edge of the bed, just looking at you.

“hey,” you murmur, reaching out to tug him closer. “stop staring and get in here.”

he laughs quietly, the sound of a low rumble in his chest, before he climbs in beside you. you both settle into the bed, as soon as you’re under the covers, he’s pulling you in close, his arms wrapping around you in a way that’s almost desperate, like he can’t bear to let you go, even for a second.

you curl into him, your head resting on his chest, the steady thump of his heartbeat a soothing sound. his thumb begins to trace gentle circles over your shoulder, a repetitive, comforting motion that makes you sigh in contentment. your legs tangled together, a mess of limbs under the covers, but neither of you mind. it’s how it always was, how it always felt right.

you close your eyes, letting the sound of his heartbeat and the gentle rhythm of his breathing lull you into a peaceful haze. you press a soft kiss to the bare skin of his chest, just over his heart, feeling the warmth of his skin against your lips.

he dips his head to press a kiss to the top of yours, his breath stirring your hair as he murmurs, “i missed this. missed you.”

you nuzzle closer, your hand splaying over his chest. “i missed you too,” you whisper back. “so much.”

there’s a long, quiet pause, filled only with the sounds of the night outside, the distant chirp of crickets and the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. his thumb keeps stroking your shoulder, you feel him press another kiss to your forehead, gentle this time, lingering.

“i’m not going anywhere,” he whispers, his voice rough but sure. “i’m here. i’m home.”

you smile against his skin, feeling a wave of peace wash over you, the last of the tension you didn’t even realise you were holding onto finally melting away. you breathe in the scent of him, something warm and familiar and entirely merriell, you let it fill your lungs, your heart, your whole being.

“home,” you repeat, your voice barely more than a breath.

you let your eyes drift shut, lulled by the warmth of his embrace, the steady rhythm of his heart, and the comforting darkness of the room. you feel his arms tighten around you, holding you even closer.

you fall asleep like that, wrapped in each other, knowing that you have all the time in the world now. 

knowing that everything is exactly as it should be.

[boulevard-of-broken-everything]

It breaks my heart that The Pacific Fandom is basically dead.

It breaks my heart even more that it never was very large to begin with and I already read every single Sledgefu fic out there.

And it demolishes my soul entire, that somehow absolutely amazing Fanfics have disappeared.

Thinking about Peripnei's works.

Poor Unfortunate Souls, the 3:16 Verse, etc

If anyone out there was intelligent enough to download these fics, I would be so damn grateful if you could pass them on to me.

If by some wicked chance Peripnei is reading this:

I don't want to post your work, I really just want to read it again.

-------

If someone just wants to talk about Sledgefu, my inbox is open! :)

[theweirdgoodbyes]

ok so DONT hate me. this was originally going to have his boot camp experiences as well but I feel like this needed its own chapter to round out his story at home. the next chapter is 65% written, and I debated waiting and posting the chapters at the same time as a thank you for everyones patience BUT. I needed the serotonin boost so please accept this humble scrap and please forgive me for no burgie or jay yet!!!! they are coming!!!!

[adnauseum11]

WIP Wednesday 8/5/24

a small teaser from the upcoming chapter of SNAFU (John Price x Reader):

John is interrupted by dinner arriving. Everything is laid out still steaming and fragrant, fresh from the kitchen. Michelle shakes her head at the platter that is set before Kate, disbelief written across her face. John’s plate isn’t much better, the thick slab of meat before him making your eyebrows raise. 

“Is this a military thing?” 

You ask Michelle in a stage whisper, John letting go of your arm to attend to his enormous meal. He’s got a baked potato and lightly roasted green beans to get through as well, never mind the huge cut of meat. Kate’s lobster tail and steak take up most of the plate before her, with a potato of her own nestled beside a garden side salad. 

“No, it’s an excellent food thing.”

John answers, his eyes crinkling in good humour. Kate makes a sound of agreement before adding with a smile.

“And it’s a John’s paying kind of thing.”

[sinclairmaxwellao3]

Day 1: Best Friend

[malarkgirlypop]

Lemonade Chapter 2 (Eugene Sledge x Fem!OC)

I forgot about this story TBH, I got stuck, I think I need to re-watch the pacific again to get my brain going again. Also the other chapter I posted didn't get much interaction so I thought I would put it on hold cause I didn't think anyone would notice ahaha.

Based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters, no hate to anyone involved.

Tag list: @next-autopsy, @xxluckystrike, @panzershrike-pretz (sorry if you didn't want to be tagged in this, let me know if you want off.)

“Something sweet?” I asked, holding out another cup. The men who passed us looked terrible. Gaunt, dirty and detached. The other nurses around me spoke to the men, welcoming them back from their mission. Most of them men smiled back, some even flirted. I tried my best not to cringe at their emaciated bodies, or injuries. My heart hurt, I had no clue what these men had seen but judging from their faces they would never forget. Our bright white uniforms looked pristine to the grime covered marines, we seemed out of place. Sticking out like sore thumbs. But the General decided it would be a good pick-me-up for the soldiers returning from their awful battles. 

“Hi, welcome back.” I said warmly to the marine who had stopped in front of me, handing him a drink. The man stood still, not moving to take the cup from my hand. I smiled trying to think of what else to say, “It’s good to see you.” Still the man stood staring directly into my eyes, glaring. My smile dropped, as I gulped. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him. The marine who had been in charge of the stand told the man to move on, even then he didn’t flinch. 

“Why are you here?” He requested. The other nurses around me had stilled. We had been told to be weary, that the men that we knew before they were shipped away were not the same. Some had become more violent, easily provoked. Like they were wild bulls and we had to be careful not to spook them. They were unpredictable.   

“I’m here to serve my country.” I replied to the man, “Same as you.” His intense stare pinned me to the ground. He scoffed, taking the cup from my hand and tipping it back, then throwing it to the floor. He marched away not looking back. I let the breath I had been holding out, Ellie nudging me to get back to work. I plastered another bright smile to my face and continued to hand out drinks to the men. But for the rest of the day the man's eyes were burned into the back of my mind.

“That guy was scary.” Mary said to me as we packed up the stand we had been serving the drinks at. 

“Mary, don't say that! You don’t know what he has been through.” I scolded her, feeling bad that in the moment I was also scared. 

“Girl’s stop chit-chatting and let's go, we have things we need to do.” Ellie said as she folded the table cloth we were using. I picked up the table, folding the legs back underneath to make it easier for me to carry. 

“Hazel that table goes in the far storage tent, once you are done come meet us in the mess for dinner.” Ellie said as the rest of the nurses gathered the equipment we were using to take it back to the kitchen. I gave a sharp nod heading in the opposite direction to everyone else. I made my way through the camp, saying polite hellos to the men I passed. Some of them offered to help me carry the table to which I refused, “No it’s ok I got it.” I smiled at the marine who looked concerned, “Are you sure, isn’t that heavy?” He asked, looking at the table I held to my side. 

“Really it’s fine!” I said moving forward, the table was getting more heavy the amount of times I had to stop, they were making my trip take longer. I moved faster through the camp, stopping a couple of times to readjust my grip. Finally making it to the storage tent, I placed the table down where there was space, not caring much if that was its actual position. I shook out my tired arms. Wiggling my fingers to get the blood moving again. I wiped my brow with the back of my arm, “God it’s hot.” I muttered, fanning myself with my hands. I don’t think I have been this hot in my life, the weather here is so humid it’s like walking into a sauna. It almost feels like you’re being suffocated by the heat, it’s so thick. I finally convinced myself to walk back into the hot sun. I make my way to the mess. I can see now why all of the men barely wear any clothes. All of their uniform sleeves have been torn off to be short, some of the men walk around without any tops on. I wish I could do that, these dresses that they have us in are tight and thick. They are also white which is so impractical when we are dealing with all bodily fluids and they want us to keep them clean. Plus the amount I am sweating and the dirt and grime on my skin from having minimal access to showers really doesn’t help. I arrive at the mess to sit down with the girls before we have to move on to help in the infirmary. I push around the food on my plate, the heat for some reason doesn’t make me hungry and the thought of having a full stomach in this swelter makes me feel uncomfortable. 

“What? Are you not hungry?” Mary asks from beside me as she loads her fork with food. I shake my head pushing my tray towards her. She shakes her head.

“No, I'm about full myself.” She says also pushing her plate away. We sit and chat waiting for the rest of the girls to be done. We have to eat early so that the marines can come in and have dinner altogether and while they are doing that we help out in the infirmary.

I walk down the sandy path to the tent that has the injured and sick men. Mary walks beside me rubbing her stomach with a pained expression on her face. 

“Are you alright?” I ask her. Peering over at her, she looks pale and sweaty. 

“No, I think I ate too much.” She groans, looking ill. I pull her to the side of the path and let the nurses who follow behind us pass. I rest the back of my hand on her forehead, she’s sticky and hot. She’s a lot warmer than me though as I test my forehead heat against hers. A sheen of sweat covers her face, her appearance is pallor. 

“Girls hurry up!” Ellie calls from ahead of us. 

“Do you want me to take you back to your tent?” I queried as Mary took a deep breath shaking her head. “Are you sure? You don’t look well?” I asked again to be certain. 

“I’ll be fine, I just need to get out of this heat.” Mary replied weakly. I took her arm and dragged her along to catch up with the group. We stopped outside the tent, as Ellie went inside to speak to the doctor. 

“They are ready for us, Dr. Alpin will tell you what he needs you to do.” We followed Ellie inside the tent after she had given us the brief. The pungent smell of infection filled the warm air inside the tent. I did my best to breathe through my mouth, trying not to inhale through my nose so the smell wasn’t as strong. I heard Mary retch beside me. Ellie was quick to turn around at the noise. Mary had tried to straighten herself, but she couldn’t hold her gagging. 

“Hazel sort her out, we don’t need her puking on the men.” Ellie scolded, flicking her hand in our direction to shoo us away. I took Mary by her elbow leading her out of the tent. Only making it a couple of steps before she was hunched over and puking onto the ground. I rubbed small circles on her back as she got the remaining food out of her stomach. We made it back to the tent as I let her rest on the cot, I gave her water, and a wet towel to place on her head. 

“You rest up, drink water. I’ll be back soon.” I promised her and she weakly shook her head, her eyes still closed. I dipped out of the tent and went back to the infirmary. 

“Hazel how is she?” Ellie asked as I stood beside her. 

“She’s fine I gave her water, I’m sure she just needs to be out of the heat. She may have heat exhaustion. I will keep an eye on her tonight.” I reported back to the more senior nurse who gave a curt nod at my explanation. 

I was given the task of wound cleaning. I went around to the men who had big open skin lesions. They looked miserable as I washed their wounds with water and covered them the best I could with the little supplies I was given. I did my best at small talk while still focussing on the task at hand. It’s hard work but I like it, getting to help people is my calling apparently.  

After a long evening the girls meander back to their tents ready to get some rest after the big day. I check on Mary who snores softly in her cot, I rewet the cloth and place it back on her forehead. I slump down on my own bed, my heavy lids struggling to stay open. 

My eyes flutter open to the sound of chatter and movement. I yawn and stretch out my limbs. Getting into my uniform for the day. I nudge Mary awake. 

“How do you feel?” I ask her as she sits up looking dazed. 

“I had the weirdest dream, but other than that I feel better.” She smiles getting up and pulling on her clothes. I take my toothbrush outside to clean my teeth outside the tent. I sit on a fallen tree and brush my teeth, Mary joins me. 

“Hazel!” I heard being yelled across the camp. I look around to see who called my name. Ellie strides into view. I groan internally, I like Ellie. She is fair, but she likes me too. That means when she needs a job done she comes to me, she trusts I can get it done. 

“Yes?” I ask shielding my eyes from the bright sun to see her. 

“Can you grab the table again from the storage tent?” Ellie requested. I nodded my head standing from my position to put my toothbrush away before doing the task. 

I head down to the tent making my way quickly. I look down at the floor to ensure I don’t trip and also so I don’t get stopped to talk to by the passing marines. 

“Nurse! Nurse!” I hear being yelled, I lift my head to where the voice came from. A young man stands outside of his tent. He beckons me over with his hand. 

“Yes?” I say to the man. He is taller than me, dark thick curly hair and wide blue eyes. He grins at me as I approach. 

“Can you help me?” He asks in a thick southern accent. I look into the tent behind. I see the figure of another man inside. He moves inside the tent before I can answer him, he holds the flap open for me to follow. 

“I’m not supposed to go inside your tent, Sir.” I admitted. He only grins wider. 

“Oh we don’t bite, Miss.” He teases. I sigh, following him into the tent. I can make this quick, then no one will need to know. I can get the table and arrive back like nothing happened. 

“Now tell me, what is your name?” He inquires. I give him a confused look, wasn’t this an urgent request or did he only do this to bring me into the tent. I stiffen my stance. 

“Hazel Evans, Sir.” I replied politely. He chuckles at me. I shift wearily under his gaze. 

“I’m Snafu, but enough with the pleasantries. I need your help.” He changes the conversation, becoming more serious. 

“How can I help you?” I ask, scanning his body he has no apparent injuries or wounds. 

“Do my eyes look yellow?” He asks moving closer, widening his eyes for me to see. He leans forward, his breath tickling my face. I stare into his large eyes, his sclera appearing normal in colour. I raise my hand pulling down his lower lid to see the interior. The skin appears pink with healthy blood vessels. 

“They look fine Snafu, nothing to be worried about.” I smile at the man reassuringly patting him on his shoulder. 

“I told him that!” A voice comes from behind me, I turn to look at who spoke. My eyes go wide when they land on the tall man. His brown eyes locked onto mine, just like they did at the lemonade stand. I instinctively take a step back stunned. Snafu’s hands rest on my shoulders from behind me. He chuckles lowly hovering by my head. 

“Did Sledge frighten you?” He asks, looking from me to Sledge. I sober myself, shaking my head. I step out of Snafu’s space, my heart rate still beating fast. A tightness grows in my chest as Sledge continues to stare at me with the same angry eyes. His jaw tight, posture ridgid. I slip back on a smile. 

“No, I just didn’t hear him behind me.” I lie. “Hi, my name is Hazel.” I say extending my hand to Sledge. He glances down at my hand and then back up to me. 

“I heard.” He says shortly, not taking my extended hand. I clear my throat dropping my arm back to my side. I give a sheepish grin as my stomach knots. I need to find an excuse to leave. This Sledge guy doesn’t seem to like me very much. If looks could kill, I would've been dead yesterday and today. I gulp, finding it hard to tear my eyes away from him. My eyes scan over his face taking him in. His soft white skin now marred with dirt and cuts, his angled jaw set with anger, his brows knitted together as he stares back at me. I wonder what he sees? I don’t have any makeup on, my thick brown hair is pulled back off my face into a neat bun as the nurses cap I wear is pinned to my head. My white uniform stands out against their dirty pants and topless torsos. I break eye contact first, turning to speak to Snafu who still stands behind me. 

“I have to go, but if you need anything you can always go to the medical tent.” I smile making my way for the exit. 

“Why would I go to the medical tent, when I know you Hazel.” He gives me a cheeky smile, as I give him a laugh, “I’ll come find you.” He winks at me. I turn to leave my eyes catching Sledge’s again, he still stares at me with caution.

[jump-wings]

HBOWarDaily's Short Story Exchange 2023

Show: The Pacific

Ship: Eugene Sledge x Snafu Merriell Shelton

General Reader

For @ahsokatanoss I hope you like it!

An Evening

They crossed the corridor, Eugene in front, Merriell behind. When they reached the door, Eugene moved aside and allowed Merriell to enter his room first. He closed the door behind them. The door made no more noise than the beating of Merriell's heart. Eugene leaned back against the door, hands in his pockets. He was watching Meriell with his eyes. Merriell walked around the room a bit. He picked up a few items on the shelf and looked at them, but he neither saw what he picked up nor was he interested in the decor of the room, just a few pathetic attempts to postpone the inevitable conversation. But somehow someone had to say something, and he knew it had to be him.

''You have a nice room, Sledgehammer.'' His voice came out lower, higher-pitched, and more strained than what he had planned to say in his head. The words almost reached his lips like tiny daggers, creating wounds in his throat. Eugene caught Merriell's eyes on his own and wouldn't let go. He said thank you and waited. He would push Meriell to the end. Merriell looked away. He waited for a few seconds in the middle of the room, looking helplessly at the carpet.

''The food was very nice.'' Again a thank you came from Eugene and he waited again. His eyes are fixed on Merriell. Merriell waited too, the bitter water rising from his stomach to his throat. He finally made up his mind, he could postpone while he ate and chatted with Eugene's family, he could postpone while Eugene's father showed him their land, he could postpone while he listened to his brother reminisce about the war in Europe, but here he was in Eugene's room in Alabama, the two of them alone and he found himself in a kind of trial in Eugene's eyes. He couldn't put it off any longer, feeling like prisoner b5rought tıo court. He had nowhere to run and no excuse to escape. He lifted his eyes from the carpet and stared into the big brown eyes watching him.

''Eugene, I…''

''Why did you come?'' Eugene's voice was angry.

''To see you.'' He looked away, his voice a whisper.

Why? Why did you come to see the man you've seen too much to even say goodbye to? Suddenly, months later?

The anger in Eugene's voice grew with each word, but the anger in his voice couldn't hide the underlying pain. Eugene's pain reached Merriell. Snafu's heart ached again, with pain at the same frequency as Eugene's, a pain that had not stopped since the moment he got off the train.

Eugene rose from where he was leaning and stood upright. He clenched his hands into fists and pressed his nails into his palms.

Ever since they returned - one to Alabama, the other to Louisiana - from the endless forests of the Pacific, its hills, its rains, its muddy soil, and its endless islands that had turned into graveyards Merriell, who had always been overconfident, had been struggling with indecision. Eugene, who had a calm nature since his early youth, was angry. Everything they knew about life was rewritten in the Pacific.

He just couldn't return. He couldn't turn around and couldn't even say goodbye. He couldn't shake his hand and look into his eyes for the last time. He wanted to, but he was undecided and could not do it. His heart couldn't stand it. This was too much. He was asked to realize a reality that had never been more real until the train entered the station. Suddenly, he is asked to leave behind the last years of his life, the person was created from him in the war, the skills he was taught to fight, the brutality, the death, the blood, and the only person he has ever learned to trust and love - Eugene - and return to a life like nothing ever happened, many times he doubted its existence when he was in the muds of Okinawa. Which one was the dream? Louisiana or Okinawa? Which one was the reality?

If he had turned back and said goodbye to Eugene as he got off the train in Louisiana, he would have lost everything. He would lose those times, the times their existence was disgusting but still too valuable to lose, but most importantly, he would lose Eugene forever, his memory.

He was undecided until the last moment. While choosing what to wear - casual clothes, a suit, or even he thought about his marine uniform uniform -, while he was taking his best suit to his sister because he couldn't iron it himself, while taking leave from work, while buying the ticket for the train to Alabama, while waiting for the train to arrive at the station, while getting on the train, while sitting in his seat, while finding Eugene's house, while walking down the road to Eugene's house, while knocking on the door of Eugene's house, and yet he had come this far. Now he was standing in the middle of Eugene's room, looking into his eyes contains anger and pain.

When Eugene got off the train months ago, he didn't think anything, he didn't feel anything. In the months that followed, anger came to visit him. Why didn't he shake him by the shoulder and wake him up? Why hadn't he just woken him and said a goodbye? All this time, they had lived as if they had never met, they have never knew each other? After everything they've been through together in this world, who could understand them better than each other?Why didn't he even wake him up and say goodbye, didn't he even love him that much?

I wish I were like the men who wrote those thick books he saw in Eugene's hands, Merriell thought. Maybe I could explain it then. Snafu had made up his mind. In one breath, he said all the words that suddenly appeared in his mind.

''I couldn't say anything to you that day because I, because you… I can't say goodbye to you. I can't say goodbye to you because if I did, you would leave and I didn't want you to go. I didn't want anything to go away we lived together. I didn't know how to do it.''

Eugene listend him. Now he had figured out how to calm down. He smiled faintly, gently. He looked into the emerald green eyes of the man he loved. His eyes wandered over the dark curly hair falling on his forehead. Almost he had never seen him so helpless before.

''If you had woken me up, we would have found a way together. Don't run away from me, Snafu.''

''Never again. I am not going anywhere.''

[raccoonskoodilypoopdungeon]

My Duel Academy Life is Wrong as I Expected Chapter 4 - Our Differences Caused Dissonance Forcing Me to Learn True Irritation

Fandom: My Teen Romantic Comedy SNAFU, Yu-Gi-Oh!

Series Summary: Having zero passion for Dueling or even Duel Monsters, Hachiman Hikigaya is the last person you would expect to even attempt to enter the most elite high school for upcoming Pro-Duelists and Card Designers in Japan and yet here he is. Wielding an Ojama Deck, this loser loner is forced to butt into the lives of other students after his dorm Resident Advisor, Professor Hiratsuka Shizuka, forces him to join the Service Club along with Yukino Yukinoshita, the Ice Queen of Obelisk Blue. Together, their clashing personalities and viewpoints must compromise as they attempt to solve problems around Duel Academy Island.

Chapter Summary: After interrupting their Duel, the Slifer Red Dorm Resident Advisor, Shizuku Hiratsuka, forces Hachiman Hikigaya and Yukinoshita Yukino to form the Service Club. Here, they must solve the problems students across Duel Academy Island bring. But two people trapped in a classroom everyday? How will they navigate this romantic comedy situation?

AO3 Link

Excerpt:

Looking at the most beautiful girl in Duel Academy sitting by the windowsill and reading a book, you quickly realised the romantic comedy set up you were in. However, instead of making your heart race all it did was make your stomach gurgle.

You were already quite accustomed to scenarios that would make an ordinary individual fall head over heels with a person. To the point, in fact, that you already knew the obvious romantic comedy traps. 

Case in point: the romantic comedy scenario you had found myself in. The setting sun bathed the room in a warm, orange hue as the open window let in a warm spring breeze that contained cherry petals. For all intents and purposes this was the exact same situation you found yourself in when confessing to Orimoto. In the end she told you she wanted to start as friends and, from then until the Duel Academy Senior High School Practical Admission Test, you two hadn't spoken even a single word.

“Under the cherry blossoms / strangers are not / really strangers” is a haiku written by Issa Kobayashi. To you, a youth with no experience, it was a symbol of hope that the mood set would bridge the gap between you two. However, you realise, as you gained experience, Issa Kobayashi, being a Busshist priest, must have meant the erasure of desire. In this sense, strangers are not really strangers because they have forgone the need to bridge the gap. After all, a stranger is only a state of being when you care about, when you have the desire to, form such a connection. Thus, Q.E.D., ergo, in summary, people are only interested when the other person is undeniably attractive and when there’s an advantage to be had.

Undoubtedly, the best course of action when presented with such a situation is to be hated. In this way, one has no desire and since desire is the root of all suffering, there would be no suffering. 

[silentmagi]

Hachiman x Totsuka - A Letter For You

Hachiman hadn't expected this to happen, but the love letter confession did answer his question very nicely.

[beefrobeefcal]

Redfly’s like “Pope! Off the swing! It’s time for drills!” And he just looks at him like this 🤣🤣🤣

Source

[luminouslywriting]

Hey- hope the recovery process is going well for you. I wanted to request a pregnancy headcanon for the Pacific boys. Love all your work btw!

A/N: Hello darling! I'm so sorry it's been forever since you sent this in! Seeing as how I'm recovering from the flu, now seemed like a good time to post this haha! Here you are! Gif does not belong to me, it belongs to lucky-bastards

Please note that my requests remain open and I don't mind spam! Set in paragraph form for simplicity!

Robert Leckie: This man is a whole wreck, lemma tell ya. It's not that he's not excited, because he totally is! It's just that he loved the idea of you being pregnant as opposed to there being an actual living tiny thing growing inside of you. 20/20 hindsight haha. All in all, this man steps up and does a wonderful job. He's out here getting excited about the paint for the nursery, betting on the baby being a boy, talking to everyone about the baby—and overall a very excited father.

Snafu Sheldon: PANIC?! Silence?? It takes him some time to process, it's nothing against you babe. It's just that it was definitely an accident and was not planned and he doesn't even feel like a good enough person to deserve a kid. It takes him some time, but he wraps his head around it. He's very soft-spoken about having a child and being a father, but shows his love through the little things (little trinkets for the baby, goes out and gets your weird cravings).

Eugene Sledge: Also panics, bless your heart. But changes his tune very very quickly—he only panics because he doesn't know what to do about a baby. But then he starts talking to his parents and he realizes how excited he is for the baby. Definitely has reassurances for you that things are gonna be so great. Is happy whether the baby is a boy or a girl—just wants them to live a happy and a soft life tbh.

John Basilone: LITERALLY SO THRILLED. This man is out here whooping and hollering and kissing the living daylights out of you. It's like a dream come true and he is so so proud of you and the baby. Wants it to be a little girl because he wants the baby to be just like you—but also would love for it to be a boy. He's out here figuring out how to build a crib day freaking 3—this man wastes no time in getting the stuff that you need.

Runner Conley: You probably have to repeat it twice for the actual words to take effect. And then he's out here nervously buying baby food months in preparation that will have expired by the time the baby actually gets here. Does, in fact, blurt the news to everyone that he knows because he's so excited. Probably randomly reads a parenting book? For funsies? But then panics more over what the parenting book says.

Hoosier Smith: Super sweet and gentle about the entire thing. Takes the time to reassure you that you are in this together and he's gonna take care of you and the little peanut (yes, that's what he calls the baby). He's so mentally prepared for the entire thing, it's almost unnerving. But he's smooth as hell and calm getting things ready for the baby, ensuring that you're doing okay, and that you have whatever you need whenever you need it. 10/10 recommend this man.

Lew Chuckler: A baby? He takes a whole 10 seconds to process those words and has to legitimately think about how it happened haha. But once he's over the initial shock, I think he gets really excited. He's out here asking all sorts of pregnancy related questions and just wants to know that both you and the baby are going to be okay. He'd be more prepared than you are for the actual labor btw, he's got a go-bag and everything.

Sid Phillips: Doesn't panic, but he definitely processes what that means. Is very sweet and probably kisses you and your stomach—and promises that things are going to be the best for you two. He's so excited to be a dad that he won't even care on the gender of the baby as long as the baby is healthy. He's out here digging out his baby toys and sentimental things that he can give to the baby just for kicks and giggles.

[theweirdgoodbyes]

never asked me once about the wrong i did: chapter 1

“Po’, po’ thing,” his granmere would lament from her rocking chair, gazing at him with those same eyes he sees in the mirror, “He already dead.”

His mama would hush her, whispering in a hurried Creole that Merriell can’t quite understand. He thinks Mama doesn’t teach him more so she can say what she wants around him, secret things he’s not old enough to understand at seven years old.

It’s Sunday after church, and everyone has made the walk to Granmere’s house which has long become too small to fit them all. They strip off their nice church shirts and hang them on the hook at the front door, a habit Mama drilled into them by the time they could walk and one of the few times all seven of her boys listened. They then make their way across the house to where Granmere sits in her rocking chair, smile across her ancient face. She sits and rocks, accepts each boy with a kiss on the cheek, a squeeze to their arm or bare belly, a tsk followed by, “Oh, po’ baby. Anna Mae, you ain’t feedin’ my boy.” By the time Merriell reaches her, he can see her expression change. The smiles fades, those pinching fingers stop their search for flesh.

“Oh, baby,” she says, reaching for the cross around her neck. It’s an old thing, as old as her and the dirt below their feet, made of crude wood. She rubs it and shakes her head, “Po’, po’ thing.”

Merriell doesn’t try to hug her anymore, and doesn’t tell anyone how much it bothers him.

Their jobs begin after greetings, shuffled into a boiling hot kitchen with the rest of the cousins, sitting Indian style wherever they can find a spot. Picking beans, chopping the sausage, whatever task Granmere has delegated to her brood takes up the next hour. Mama and the aunties bustle around the kitchen while Daddy and his uncles sit outside and smoke their cigarettes. Merriell liked Sundays for the most part, aside from Granmere’s unrelenting gaze and worried quips. Daddy didn’t drink on Sundays, so he knew the only beating he could get was a sharp rap on the knuckles for sneaking bites from the pot before dinner.

“They talkin’ ‘bout you,” Llewelyn says, a finger slick with the grease from the sausage pointing at him before motioning to Granmere and Mama, “‘bout what you did.” Llewelyn knows more Creole than the rest of them combined, on account of being the oldest, a fact he made sure they all remembered.

Merriell lowers his eyes, focusing on picking out each pea from the pod he’s cracked. He counts as he goes, a habit he’s picked up to keep him calm during these very accusations.

“Mama says it not on me,” he mumbles, the same answer he always gives. Mama says it was God that took Vernon, born minutes after him with Merriell’s umbilical cord wrapped around his neck. Mama says God took him straight to Heaven, that he was too good to be on Earth with the rest of them. Merriell always wonders if he was left behind because he wasn’t all that good. He tries to be a good boy, he really does. He listens to Mama better than any of his brothers, and always does his chores without fussing. But he’s not always a good boy. He steals candy from the store by their house, and chases their old fat cat under the porch only to poke at him with a stick while he hisses and yowls. Merriell wonders if God can see him waiting each night for their neighbor Mr. Leconte to come home, sitting on the stoop until he passes by. He always gives Merriell a wink and a wave, something that gets his heart thumping hard. Even at seven, he knows that alone makes him wicked.

Next to him, little Eugene, the only cousin younger than him, pipes up in his soft voice.

“My mama say don’t say that.”

“Your mama ain’t my fuckin’ mama,” Llewelyn spits back, sticking his knife into the next link of sausage. Eugene shrinks back, leaning closer to Merriell. Twelve years younger than Llewelyn’s fifteen, he’d always been scared of the older boy. “We all know it’s true. Ain’t you listen at church? Killin’ a sin. Don’t matter none what Merriell do for the rest of his life; he goin’ to Hell.”

Llewelyn stands with his plate of chopped sausage, handing it off to Auntie Lorraine before exiting the kitchen. He’s about to go stand with Daddy and the uncles, satelliting the outskirts, hoping for an offer of a cigarette and to be included in the menfolk talk.

Merriell keeps staring at his peas, picking away. His mind is far, far away from Granmere’s kitchen. He’s nearly counted to 50 when he feels Eugene’s small hand on his knee. He doesn’t look up.

“I don’t think it, Mer,” Eugene says, barely above a whisper. The threat of Llewelyn coming back, angry at being sent back to the kitchen with the little ones, looms over them. “You’ll be in Heaven with us.”

Merriell doesn’t say anything. He keeps picking his peas, counting, wondering if when he gets to those pearly gates in the sky, they’ll be shut tight.

Omg, hello everyone. This is the first stab at fanfic I’ve take in quite a while. Overall what I post here will be my first drafts, I will likely be posting it at ao3 upon its completion, but please enjoy this humble chapter in the meantime!

[adnauseum11]

For the ask game: 8 and 9!

Hello friend! Thank for you for distracting me from checking my email like a maniac <3

♻️A scrapped idea for your current WIP

I was going to originally have John propose at Christmas but it was too cheesy and soon, even for them. I like the necklace better, it suited them more.

🤔What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?

Oh boy. I'd love to write one based on where I live but there's another writer doing one right now based in the same area, and I don't want to step on any toes. (what are the odds, out of the entire globe lol.) So I don't know. I've met a few retired military guys who are drawn to being outside and building careers in Search&Rescue after discharge. A lot of those skills are highly transferrable. This area is super remote and hikers go missing on the regular or boaters need to be rescued from the glacial water, etc. It attracts the "colourful 5%" as one old timer put it. More than one person has moved up here with the idea of starting a new life away from the consequences of the old. If you are someone who has maybe made some enemies, it might be of interest as a place to settle down. The landscape also can serve as a character of it's own, because if you get stuck out there without the proper tools or know-how you will die long before anyone finds you.

Thanks for the asks!!

[animetrashlive]

This is the link for the ao3 version of the fic and probably will be the main place where I will update from now on!

[malarkgirlypop]

LEMONADE Chapter 1 (Eugene Sledge x Fem!OC)

Hello! This is the first chapter to my new OC story. I hope you all enjoy! I love the Pacific and especially Eugene! Stay tuned for more chapters to come, I have some ideas of how I want this story to play out. I hope you all enjoy! This is based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters no hate to anyone involved.

“Something sweet?” I ask, handing out cool lemonade to the weary marines who pass by the table. The nurse beside me fills the cups, as I hand them out to the men. I make sure I smile and look them in the eye like Ellie had told me beforehand, “You can’t look at the ground Hazel, you have to look happy to be there!”. I was always shy in school, keeping my friends to girls. Boys scared me too much with their rough and tumble. I always liked to be neat and tidy, however the boys at my school were chaotic and dirty. My older sister seemed to be the same, until one day when she was 18, she arrived at the house with a man on her arm and declared him her true love, and that they were to be wed. They had come for my father’s blessing. I still remember the day vividly. 

I set the china down on the table with the knives and forks, the front door left open to let the cool breeze pass through the stuffy house. My father lounged in his chair, puffing on his pipe and reading the newspaper. As my mother fussed in the kitchen over the roast she had done. 

“Will Liesl be here for dinner Haze?” My father called from the lounge.

“She said she was going to Anna's house to see her new dog, she didn’t say when she would be home.” I called back as I straightened the forks. 

“Well she best be here quick, dinner is ready.” My mother chirped as she pulled the chicken out of the oven in a cloud of steam. The savoury smell filling the house. I put glasses on the table filling mine with cool water, my parents with wine. I heard the front gate’s signature squeak as it opened, I cast my eyes to the open front door. To my surprise my sister Liesl proudly marched up the front path with a man on her arm. Liesl walked with her head held high, I couldn’t say the same for the man she dragged along with her. His face was flushed, a sheen of perspiration on his brow. He sheepishly ducked his head as they entered the house. My mother appeared behind me holding a platter in her hands to put on the table. 

“Mother!” Liesl said proudly, “This is James, and I am going to marry him.” My eyes widened at her bold statement, I glanced back at my mother who had gone as white as a sheet. I could hear the grunt of my father getting out of his recliner. He ambled into the dining room. 

“Liesl, what on earth are you talking about?” My father inquired. 

“Sir!” James said, reaching forward to shake my father’s hand. He looked down at the outstretched hand in front of him and turned his gaze back towards my sister. James dropped his hand as he awkwardly put it back by his side, fidgeting with the suit jacket he wore. No wonder he was sweating. It was so hot today and that woollen blazer looked thick. I said nothing my eyes darting from one face to another, my sister look firm, James looked like he was about to faint, same as my mother, who had managed to put the chicken down on the table without dropping it from pure shock, my father wore a deep frown, one he mostly used when he was about to giving us a talking to. I flicked my gaze back to Liesl, to see what she was going to do next. 

“I came to ask for your blessing, Father. But I will still marry him even if you do not approve of it.” Liesl asserted, James cringed beside her looking rather uncomfortable. 

“Liesel, you cannot march into this house with a man we have never met and demand us to bless the marriage!” My father boomed in rage, I shrunk down even though I was not the one who was being told off. 

“How did you even meet? When did you meet? Who is he?” My mother blurted questions, as my father nodded in agreement. 

“We met a couple of months ago at the dance. He had moved from across the state and we knew it was love.” My sister answered the questions. 

“My god Liesl you cannot marry someone you met a couple of months ago!” My father said in outrage. 

“Father, I love him and he loves me!” Liesl screeched in anger.

“I do love your daughter dearly.” James interjected. 

“Pipe down blazer!” My father shut him down quickly. James’ mouth snapped shut. 

“Father, please I love him. I want to marry him!” Liesl begged my father who huffed in frustration. He turned towards my mother to gauge her opinion. Liesl gave her best big puppy dog eyes, that she knew my father had a hard time saying no to. He was soft for his sweet daughters, he loved us ever so much. Another sigh left his lips as he rubbed the bridge of his nose with his fingers, trying to ease the headache that had come with the ordeal.

“Fine.” He said curtly. We all paused in shock, no of us even breathed. 

“Really?” Liesl beamed. A wide grin spread across her face as she rushed forward to hug our father, giving him a big kiss on his cheek. He shook his head, but he couldn’t stop the small smile that graced his lips. 

“Hazel, put out another plate for…” My father said, looking at James to help him finish his sentence.

“James White, but everyone calls me Jamie.” He said stepping forward, again reaching out for my father’s hand. He took Jamie’s hand giving it a firm squeeze as they shook. I’m sure it was meant as a silent warning. 

By the next weekend they had been wed, Jamie was a good man and loved my sister very much. They made a splendid couple, I don’t think I have ever seen my sister so smitten. But not long after the war had broken out. Jamie had enlisted and much to my sisters dismay he was shipped off with the Marines to the Pacific to fight the Japanese. After he had left my sister moved back in with my parents, not wanting to be alone. She cried herself to sleep every night, I heard her muffled sobs through the walls. Whenever she had received a letter from him she would read it back to front, enough times she could recite every word with her eyes closed. Then one day she had received a letter, but it was a letter you dread to see. It was from the military itself. She and I sat on the front steps together as she stared at the unopened envelope. 

“Do you want me to read it, Liesl?” I asked gently, bumping into her with my shoulder. She nodded wordlessly handing me the paper. I tore into the letter, pulling it from its sleeve. 

“Do you want me to read it out loud to you?” I asked again, not having opened the folded over paper, scared as to what it was going to say. My stomach knotted, as she nodded again. I flattened out the paper so I could read it. 

“We regret to inform you.” I started, as my eyes scanned the letter. My heart clenched, I took a deep breath. “That your husband James White was killed in action.” The words fell off my tongue. I didn’t bother to read the rest of the letter, not that it would be heard anyway. The howls from my heart broken sister filled the air. Tears welled in my eyes as I watched her rock back and forward screaming in agony. My mother was quick to appear from the kitchen. Wrapping her in her arms and stroking my hair as Liesl wailed. I let the tears from my eyes fall as I watched the scene unfold. My father stood in the doorway with his own red rimmed eyes. 

But that was years ago now. After Jamie had died Liesl wanted a job, anything to distract her from her grief. She applied to be a nurse, to help in the war and had dragged me with her. I was then freshly 18 but they were taking anyone who applied really. Liesl after her training, got moved to one of the basecamps where the men trained before they were shipped out. I, on the other hand, was put through more in depth training. Due to my bright nature I moved quickly through the classes they had for the nurses. The girls I was with were to be shipped off to the Pacific as well. To be based on an island where the men could be treated first, so that they didn’t have to send all of the injured people home.

[raccoonskoodilypoopdungeon]

My Duel Academy Life is Wrong as I Expected Chapter 3 - Azaleas Do Not Bloom At Night No Matter How Beautiful the Moonlight 

Fandom: My Teen Romantic Comedy SNAFU, Yu-Gi-Oh!

Series Summary: Having zero passion for Dueling or even Duel Monsters, Hachiman Hikigaya is the last person you would expect to even attempt to enter the most elite high school for upcoming Pro-Duelists and Card Designers in Japan and yet here he is. Wielding an Ojama Deck, this loser loner is forced to butt into the lives of other students after his dorm Resident Advisor, Professor Hiratsuka Shizuka, forces him to join the Service Club along with Yukino Yukinoshita, the Ice Queen of Obelisk Blue. Together, their clashing personalities and viewpoints must compromise as they attempt to solve problems around Duel Academy Island.

Chapter Summary: Yukino Yukinoshita and Hachiman Hikigaya are meeting alone on a beautiful moonlit night. Of course, romantic comedies don't exist in reality. They're simply meeting up to Duel and see whether a Slifer Red really can intrude himself into an Obelisk Blue's life.

AO3 Link

Excerpt:

“I draw for turn,” I declared. 

“Well, what miracle card have you drawn?” she asked, smirking and crossing her arms.

“Harpie’s Feather Duster,” I told her, activating the card. 

“Response!” Yukinoshita said. “I chain Sky Striker Mecha – Shark Cannon! I target Ojama Blue in your GY.”

“No effect to chain,” I responded.

“Chain resolution will occur,” she declared. “Sky Striker Mecha – Shark Cannon banishes the Ojama Blue in your GY.”  Raye, in her Shizuku outfit, brought her fists together and produced a black, two pronged cannon which blasted a yellow sonic wave towards me.

“Then Duster will resolve.” A large, green feather duster appeared and swept Yukinoshita’s backrow, destroying them.

“Relying on those kinds of cards,” she said. 

“Hm? Is there something wrong with staples?”

“Of course.” She smirked. “Cards not part of an archetype, deliberately designed to be slottable in any Deck. Well, put simply, these cards are only used by weak Decks because the strong have no need for them.”

I clicked my tongue.

“Or perhaps you need to be refreshed of the first lesson you learn as a Duelist: not all Decks are created equal.”

“So every card in your Deck is part of the Sky Striker archetype?”

“Naturally.” She flicked her hair back. “A strong Deck and a good Duelist have no need for such cheap tricks.”

“Then I’ll continue with my turn with cheap tricks.”

“Please do.”