#snaf moon

[whatchamarkallit]

Maybe tumblr will appreciate these sun and moons ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[almost-a-class-act]

Tonight’s full moon has resurrected me, I come bearing my deranged thoughts. I prefer canon humble good papa haldane but versions of him where he knows he is Gods gift to the marines, handsome enough for recruitment posters, and the whole damn company (forget just eddie, sledge snaf and burgie were all tryna hit) is pining after him is absolutely elite. Nothing like a bit of gentle teasing and barely subtle flirting to get what you want. No greater entertainment than letting your hand linger too long on someone’s shoulder, put your hands on someone to show them how to hold a rifle properly, go conduct nightly checks for half sleeping marines convinced they are dreaming. He’s their favourite and he knows it. His LT’s whipped and the enlisted would kill an entire enemy company just for a smile. Oh skipper im having nightmares again, come comfort me uwu

-luney in las vegas, hilldane anon

Hilldane anon, when I tell you I LOL'd reading this. Why do I feel like this is Scott Gibson energy bleeding through into Andy anyway yeah I do not care if it's out of character if it's fucking hilarious, lmao. Andy Haldane Knows Damn Well He's a Smokeshow and So Does Everyone Else should be a tag on AO3. I'm going to write a fic called Andy Haldane Took His Shirt Off and It Was For the Troops. (Just kidding. Or am I.)

Smash cut to a K Company Mean Girls montage. I hear his hair's insured for $10,000. He does car commercials in Japan. This fandom loves an Everyone Is Gay AU and you know what, we're very correct for that. Where are the K Company orgy fics. After the war he's pulling off this incredibly rakish head wound scar and everyone's like, "wait, should I get a head wound scar?" Not unless you have salon quality hair and charisma for motherfucking days my dude.

[dailydoseofweb]

Dear Lieb’s Mid Life Crisis,

I traded spots with you and got you out of Snafu’s fire and all you can do is make moon eyes at Lieb? I mean, I get it, he is Lieb. You’d have to be seriously lacking something in the brain to not notice the man. However. however, you are getting married to the man.

And I saved you. I really did but not a single thank you. I should have let Snaf keep feeding you those god awful pick up lines.

-Babe

[auroralightsthesky]

Could I ask for 22, 23 love and smut prompt for baby boi Jay de L'Eau? ♡♡♡

YES!!! FUCK YES I'LL DO IT!!! Oh jeez you have no idea how long I've been wanting to do one of these and I have just the one that I've been working on for a while believe it or not (lol)

The Call of the Moon

Pairings: Jay De L'Eau x Reader

The blotchy red sun sank further and further down on the horizon, the quiet breathing of the ocean in the distance and the indiscernible chatter of Marines getting ready for lights out, buzzing through the camp like the chatter of crickets. You wished to God that the war was over already.......over so you could go home and stay with Jay.

You flopped right into the bunk, relieved that you could, at last, get some rest. God it had felt good to finally shower off fifteen days worth of muck, grime and crap that had clung to you as though its life had depended on it. You couldn’t wait for the sun to set so you could get some sleep.

Damn this heat.....you swore. I can’t get any sleep with it hanging around......

You looked out the thin screen covering the doors and other openings in your tent, wishing with all your might that the sun would go down quicker and cool off. You heard the tent door open and saw the sight of a familiar figure through your blurry, heat coated eyes.

“Baby don’t even get up,” Jay said to you in a half whisper. “Wait till the sun goes down.”

You closed your eyes for a bit, feeling someone crawl in beside you, still damp from the showers and the smell of charcoal, china clay and sand hanging on to Jay as he slipped in next to you. His hand curled around yours, dry, battered and with deep scabs, scratches and cuts from pushing through the rocky terrain of Peleliu.

“Does it hurt anymore?” you asked as you began to wake up.

“No,” Jay said. “There’s alot worse that could hurt

“Like what?” you asked him.

“Like not being with you.”

You smiled a bit when you felt him kiss you behind your ear, your shoulders scrunching up as he hit a ticklish spot. “Jay, what are you doing?” you giggled.

“Oh come on,” he half laughed. “Humor me a little bit.”

“You know the guys will probably hear us right?”

“Relax,” Jay said. “Sledge, Burgie and Snaf are all out like a light, Ack Ack and Hillbilly are across camp and it’ll take a fuckin earthquake to wake Gunny. We’re fine.”

You blinked your eyes open fully to the view outside the tent, the sky a deep midnight blue while the moon hung full and huge above the island. You had missed nights like this......just you and Jay, alone together.

You felt Jay move from the back of your head to your cheek, his own like sandpaper as he kissed your jaw. You rolled over underneath him, not giving a single damn about how hot it was, before your lips met, kissing slowly before they suddenly grew more heated. You let out a breathy sigh as Jay trailed from your lips, across your jaw and onto your neck.

Your fingers gently moved across the large bruise on his shoulder, still a ghastly blue black from being knocked around on the rocks. You felt a shock of warmth run right along your stomach as he kissed the little cut along the corner of your eye, your fingers running through Jay's hair and down the back of his neck. His shuddering nerves calmed as you kissed the bruise on his shoulder, the both of you relaxing under each other's touch.

Your hands slipped their way under Jay's t-shirt, little by little helping him to get it off. He tossed the shirt to the corner and helped you off with yours.

You couldn't remember much more after that. It was a tidal wave of kissing, gasping, moaning and touching that seemed to last forever. The next thing you knew, both you and Jay were so exhausted that you could barely keep your eyes open.

The two of you slept peacefully that night, unhindered by any nightmares or terrors with the sound of the waves crashing ashore just outside the tent and the huge moon hanging overhead. All that mattered to the both of you was that you were in each other's arms and together forever more.

[xmxisxforxmaybe]

38 on summertime list :) with snafu pls and thank u 💋💋

38.Camping in a tent and being startled awake … by something.

Gets a little suggestive at the end, but this is mostly fluff : )

* * * * *

 “What was that?” you asked, sitting straight up and blinking into the dark.

 “S’nuthin,” Snaf mumbled next to you, his hand patting aimlessly in a half-hearted attempt to soothe you.

 The sound of flapping intensified, and when the tent began to shake above you, you yelled as you flung yourself onto the other side of Snafu.

 “Wha’ in da hell?” he questioned, realizing that something was definitely wrong.

 Snafu groped for the flashlight, but before he found it a bird screeched so loudly from directly above you that you slammed your hands over your ears.

 Moving quicker, Snaf located the flashlight and shown it in the direction of the commotion. There was nothing to see but a flopping dip in the tent, so he grabbed your hand and said, “Come on.”

 “No way!” you hissed yanking your hand back.

 “Darlin’ now is not da time to get ta arguin’ with me. Come on!” Snafu wrapped his strong fingers around your wrist and all-but dragged you to the opening of the tent. As he paused to unzip, there was a terrible commotion over your side of the tent and it collapsed.

 “Snaf!”

 “I’m hurryin!”

 He finally loosened the zipper and you crawled out of the tent, the flashlight bouncing wildly through the trees with your movement. The moon was high in the sky and its closeness offered enough light for you to see fully-formed shapes in the dark.

 You stuck to Snafu’s side, his bare torso warm and comforting as you clung to his arm. He aimed the flashlight at the side of the tent that had collapsed, but something big swooped over your heads, making you both duck.

 You could feel the warm rush of air and hear the rustle of wings as the bird dove into your tent, the tearing sound of the canvas under its talons causing you to yelp.

 “It has rabies!” you cried. “We’re gonna die!”

 “Hush,” Snaf scolded as he wrenched himself free from your grasp, and as the bird took off again, a piece of tent clutched in its hooked claws, he poked through the collapsed material, first with his foot, then he bent down to straighten the disheveled fabric.

 “Snaf, please. It’s—”

 “Lost its dinna,” Snafu said, his bright grin flashing in the dark as he held up a large fish that was still intermittently flopping as it fought for breath.

 “Oh my god—throw it in the lake!”

 Snafu walked a few feet closer to the shoreline and tossed the fish toward the water, only to have your nighttime terrorist swoop down from the sky and snatch it up.

 You both watched, mouths hanging open as the bird took off across the lake.

 You looked at each other, wide-eyed before Snafu’s eyes began to sparkle with amusement.

“Ya thought it had rabies?” Snafu finally said, his brows contorted with disbelief.

 You glowered at him in response and he shook his head, a smirk slowly creeping across his face.

 “Maw Maw always cautioned me bout city gals.”

 “Well wouldn’t Maw Maw love to know exactly what her good old bayou boy gets up to when he’s alone in the wilderness,” you retorted.

 Snafu laughed and switched the flashlight to the hand that had attempted to rescue the fish. He reached up and grabbed you by the jaw, moving close enough to your face that when he spoke, his breath was a warm puff over your skin.

 “Didn’t hear no complaints from ya earlier.”

 Not taking his bait, you turned your nose up at him, as much as his grip would allow, and replied, “That was before. This is now.”

 He laughed and moved his hand from your jaw to your waist, pulling you in flush against him.

 “Ya wanna go home?” he said with a squeeze.

 You sighed and shook your head no.

 “Night’s clear as a bell. We’ll move our sleepin’ bags to da back a da truck. Tell me, city gal. Ya eva made love unda da stars?”

 You tried not to give him an inch—he was already so conceited that it physically pained you to give him any more ground to stand on, but that was what happened when someone was almost always right. Your body had responded to him the instant he gripped your jaw, and now you lost your battle not to smile.

 As your lips twitched upward, Snafu’s chest vibrated with a low chuckle.

 “I’ll take dat as a no. Ya in fo’ a real treat.”

 Snafu’s lips pressed against yours and the flashlight fell to the ground with a thunk so he could bring his hand up to squeeze your ass through the thin material of your pajama shorts—

 “Fish hand! Fish hand!” you shrieked as you shoved him away and began to swipe at your bottom.

 His grin was predatory as he held up his offensive hand and began to walk toward you, wiggling his fingers.

 You shrieked and dove into the tent, quickly digging into your bag and throwing the container that held your bar of soap back out of the flap.

 Snafu rolled his eyes and shook his head as he picked up the soap and the flashlight.

 “City folk,” he muttered, making his way to the lake as you peered out from the tent flap to ensure he was actually washing his hand off.

 Satisfied, you felt around in your bag for a towel. As you gripped it, you smiled to yourself and stripped off all of your clothes.

 You emerged from the tent, dangling the towel from your fingertip as Snafu approached.

 The flashlight took another tumble from his grasp, and as his mouth opened and shut in a sick parody of the fish who had become someone’s dinner, you couldn’t help but giggle.

 “Pretty brazen, huh? Must be the city gal in me.”

 “Come fuckin’ here,” Snafu growled, and after you stepped into his arms, you found out what a transcendent experience it really was to make love under the stars.

[anothers-trash-my-treasure]

Sing For Me

Ayyyy here we go!! Got this request a while ago and I am very excited that it’s finally done. 

Summary: Reader is a singer in a band who our dear boy Merriell takes an *ahem* interest in. 

Pairing: Merriell Shelton / Reader (femme)

Warnings: Ouf Uhm, smut (read 18+ only), protected sex, dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving), drinking

Word Count: 3.6 K (oml help us)

Tags: @r-ahh-mi @sherlollydramoine @txmel @moon-stars-soul @ramimedley @alottanothing @ramisgirl512 @diasimar (let me know if you wanna be added!)

~

The night was not panning out the way I had initially thought it would. It was a Friday night, which meant I was singing at a jazz bar downtown. We had a two-hour set, as usual. We killed it, as usual. And we stuck around after to have a few drinks, as usual. What was unusual, was the all-too-attractive man at the table behind us who kept meeting my eyes and smirking my way. I try not to look his way too often, but it’s hard not to. 

He’s gorgeous. With large eyes, the colour difficult to pin-point under the low lighting of the bar. He’s got a mop of curls resting on the top of his head, wild and frayed like he’d been running his hands through them to be anything other than a complete mess. A soft pout on his lips, parted ever so slightly. It seems like every time I glance over at him, he’s staring right back at me. And every time he does I have to pry my eyes away from him. I try my best to keep my focus on my friends, tearing my eyes away from the mystery man when the group breaks out into a fit of laughter. 

“What’s happening?” I ask, cluing back into the conversation.

“God, she's so clueless.” One friend says, smirking at me teasingly.

I narrow my eyes, “Am not!” I say, mocking offence, “About what?”

“About the fact that you and that guy over there have practically been eye-fucking each other since we sat down.” Another says, giggling as she glances first at the stranger and back at me.

I feel my face heat up, “Have not,” I deny.

They don’t look convinced and I’m about to open my mouth the try to convince them but before I can get out a word the waitress comes over and sets a new drink in front of me. I furrow my eyebrows, looking between the new drink and her questionly.

She giggles at my response and points over my shoulder, “Courtesy of that guy.”

My friends practically start an uproar, laughing and ‘oohing’ and shaking my shoulders. I buried my head in my hands in embarrassment from their actions. I look back up, glancing over my shoulder at the stranger. He meets my gaze, a smirk unfolding across his lips. He raises his glass and winks at me. I can’t help but smile, shaking my head lightly.

“Well?” a friend asks expectantly. 

“Well, what?” I ask, bringing my new drink up to my lips. They always taste better when they’re free. 

“Aren’t you gonna go say hi to him?” Another asks, raising their eyebrow at me like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

I glance back to the stranger, finding him this time turned back to his own friend group, “He’s busy, I wouldn’t want to impose.” 

Someone scoffs, “Yeah, I’m sure he’d be absolutely pissed if you interrupted their conversation.” They roll their eyes, “Just go thank him for the drink and if it feels like he doesn’t want you to be there then we’ll just leave.” They shrug, like it’s the easiest thing in the world to go and talk to quite possibly the most attractive guy to ever show interest in me. 

I contemplate my options. The thought of making the first move makes me nervous, but when I look over and see him and his friends standing up to put their jackets on, I can’t leap to my feet fast enough. I can hear my friends shock at my actions behind me, but all my focus is on him. 

“Hey!” I call, “Hold on a sec!” 

He glances at me, smiles, motions to his friends to go on without him and meets me halfway, fixing his jacket. His eyes travel up and down my body and a shiver runs through me at the look he has in his eyes. His eyes, that now that I’m closer to him I can see are an oddly captivating mixture of green, blue and grey. 

“I just,” I start, fiddling with the straw in my glass, “wanted to say thank you for the drink.” 

He shrugs, head rolling to the side, “Don’t gotta thank me, cher.” he drawls, stuffing his hands into his pockets, “Should be thanking ya for that performance earlier.” He whistles, “real good.” 

“Oh!” I say, pleasantly surprised, “thank you.”

His grin widens, “I told ya, you don’t gotta thank me.” 

I roll my eyes playfully, “Well, whatever.” I dismiss, “I’ll let you get back to your friends, I guess.” I turn to leave but his hand catches my arm. 

“Now wait jus’ a minute,” He laughs, “I’m in no hurry. I don’t wanna steal you from your friends but I do wanna get to know ya.” 

I stutter, my brain scrambling. I look back at my friends, seeing them giving me a thumbs up and begging me not to fuck this up. I look back at him, his eyes are trained on me, an eyebrow raised, waiting for my answer. 

Fuck it.

“I’m sure they won’t mind.” 

His smile grows, turning back to the table he had previously occupied and pulling out a chair for me. I smile at him and take my seat, shooting a glance back over at my friend group. They’re barely keeping it together, shocked that I’m actually going through with this. He sits, next to me, gesturing at the waitress for another round. 

“You don’t have to buy me another, really I’m okay.” 

He dismisses me with a wave of his hand.

“Here ya go, Snaf.” the waitress says as she sets the drinks down and I feel my eyebrows raise in surprise.

“Snaf?” I question once she walks away.

He smiles bashfully, “Old nickname, call me Merriell.”

“Y/N,” I reply.

From there on out the conversation flows. Turns out, he had seen our band play quite a few times over the past few weeks but had never been able to stay long enough to see a whole set and hang around after. He’s an interesting conversationalist. He’ll go from asking questions about the band and me to sliding in sly innuendos that no doubt make my cheeks burn. As the time ticks by we get closer, whether it’s from me leaning over the table to hear him better, or him leaning in to tell a story. By the time my friends come over to tell me they’re leaving, I’m practically on his lap, so intrigued with the way his accent flows over me and the way his eyes keep flicking down to look at my lips, watching with interest when my teeth dig into my bottom lip to hold back a smile. 

Somewhere along the line, the conversation does a complete 180, turning from playful banter to low whispers and suggestive comments. I can’t pinpoint when exactly it happened but he’s whispering in my ear, hand resting on the bare skin of my thigh, fingers trailing up just underneath the hem of my skirt.

“I’d like to see how I could make you sing back at my place.” 

It’s accompanied by a slight nibble on my earlobe and I feel my breath leave my body. My body moves on complete instinct, hand moving to cup his jaw, fingers framing his ear so I can tug him down into a heated kiss. He hums pleasantly against my lips, fingers flexing against my thigh while his other hand comes up, brushing his fingers along my jawline. 

When we break away we’re breathing heavily, noses still touching and staring at each other. He smirks again and I’m quickly realizing just how much trouble this man could be. 

“So, whaddya say? Wanna get out of here?” 

I nod, swallowing and clearing my throat before letting out the breathiest ‘yeah’. 

It takes us all of five minutes to hail a cab but the entire time we’re waiting, his hands are absolutely relentless. His eyes stayed trained on the road, his lips next to my ear, whispering into it while his hands dance up and down my body. When we get in the cab it’s not much different. He’s practically laying on top of me, hand gripping my hip, pulling it against him while he kisses me, slow, deep and dirty. 

“The poor driver,” I mumble against his lips.

“Don’t care,” he replies, teeth tugging on my bottom lip. 

His lips trail down my neck, sinfully hot, and I can’t help the hum of pleasure that rumbles out of my throat. The drive couldn’t be over fast enough. 

When he finally gets me out of the cab and into the apartment, the first thing he does is slam me against the door, capturing my lips once more. My hands find his abdomen, touching first above the soft fabric of his shirt before finding their way underneath to feel the lean muscle there. He exhales on a gasp when my nails drag down his sides, not hard enough to break the skin but hard enough to leave a mark. My hands move to tug on his jacket, wrestling with it until I can get it down his arms and thrown somewhere behind us. His hands, between grabbing my hips and pulling them against his, work my jacket off as well. He lets it drop behind me and then he’s grabbing my hips again, tugging me forward as he starts to maneuver us throughout the apartment.

He leads us down a hallway, halfway down becoming too impatient and pressing me against a wall. He presses against me, moaning urgently and a wave of confidence moves through me. I bit his lip harshly and push him to the other side of the hallway, his back hitting the wall with a soft ‘thump’. He looks at me with heated eyes, mouth dropped open in shock. He watches me intently as I grip the hem of my shirt and pull it over my head, tossing it at him. His mouth tugs into a smirk, his eyes taking in my newly exposed skin as I walk towards him. My hands fall to his sides, fingers dancing over the skin as I press myself up against him. 

“Feisty,” he growls, leaning down to kiss me again. His hands find my ass, gripping it tightly and using the momentum to grind our hips together. 

“Bedroom,” I mumble.

He hums in agreement, hands moving to my hips again to guide me into the bedroom. He kicks the door shut behind him and I wonder briefly if he has roommates. But the thought is gone as soon as it came when he pushes me away to tug his shirt up and over his head. 

We stand there, breathing heavily while we look at each other. He’s all lean muscle and tanned skin that longs to be marked up. The outline of his hard cock visible through his light-washed, worn-out jeans. The air between us is warm, sexual tension crackling like electricity in the open space. Without breaking eye contact, I reach behind me, pulling the zipper of my skirt down and letting the fabric fall to my feet. He swallows heavily, eyes scanning over me as his hands reach down to start unbuckling his belt. I walk towards him, hands covering his to take over his actions. His lips capture mine, hands moving to my upper arms, just resting there while I work his belt off and start on his button and zipper.

Instead of letting him tug them off, my hand works it’s way into the loosened fabric, letting my fingers glide over his length through his briefs before palming him. His hips twitch against my hand, rocking steadily. He moans softly against my lips, fingers gripping my arms tightly. My fingers flex around his clothed length and suddenly he’s pushing me back on the bed, discarding his pants and boxers behind before crawling up the bed to me.

“Drivin’ me fuckin’ crazy,” he growls, lips trailing up my chest and neck, sucking deep red marks as he goes. My legs wrap around his waist, moaning excitedly when I feel his cock drag against my still clothed pussy. 

His hands work first on my bra, unclasping the back and pulling back just enough that I can throw it across the room, hearing it hit a wall somewhere off to my left. They then work their way down my body, fingers trailing down my breasts, my stomach before finally resting against my mound. I whine, feeling his fingers start to rub against my clit over the thin fabric.

“So wet already, cher.” He moans, “Wanna taste you, ya gonna let me?”

I can’t nod fast enough, desperate to see what his mouth is capable of. He moves down my body, sucking, licking and biting wherever he sees fit. By the time he gets to my clothed heat, I’m near panting for it. From his place in between my thighs he stares up at me, eyes heated and teasing as he leans down to place a soft, teasing kiss to the fabric. My hips twitch slightly, anticipating his every move. His tongue comes out to lick a hot stripe up my heat, flicking at my covered clit with the tip of his tongue. And then he’s finally rolling my panties down my leg, his lips finding my heat as soon as they’re out of the way. 

His arms wrap around my thighs, holding my hips still while he runs his tongue between my folds. It’s warm and wet, alternating between dipping it in and out of my heat and flicking it against my clit. My hand finds his hair, gripping his curls between my fingers and guiding his movements ever so slightly. His eyes don’t leave mine, spare for the few times he closes them to moan against me. 

I can feel myself getting closer, my hips rolling against his tongue, chasing the pleasure he’s giving me. One of his hands move, leaving its place at my hip to sink two fingers into me. My head falls back on a moan, back arching up when he crooks his fingers and finds my g-spot.

“Fuck,” I gasp, free hand gripping the pillow behind my head. I can feel myself on the edge of relief, I try to move his head away, “stopstopstop, I’m gonna..” 

He stays stubbornly where he is, barely pulling away to utter the words “want you to cum on my tongue.” and just like that, I’m done. My eyes roll back, back arching and thighs clenching around his head as I moan out his name. My orgasm passes in waves, body jerking when he continues to lick and suck at me.  

When he finally pulls away, my legs fall to the bed, limp and shaky as I try to catch my breath. His fingers dance across my thighs, laughing lightly when my muscles twitch due to the light tough. I run my hands through my hair, looking down at him with wonder. 

“Good?” He asks, the damned smirk painted over his lips, still wet with my arousal. 

“Could say that.” I giggle, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him up my body to catch his lips in a kiss. My tongue slips into his mouth, moaning at the taste of myself I find there. 

His hands slide up my waist to cup my breasts, thumbs sliding over my nipples teasingly. I shiver in response to his light touch, sparks of pleasure radiating from it. He huffs, amused at my reaction. One hand trails back down my body, moving down to grasp my thigh and hoist it over his hip. 

“Gonna let me fuck you?” he asks against my lips and just the fact that he’s asking is so hot that my breath leaves my body again. 

“I’d let you do anything to me,” I reply. 

He groans, capturing my lips in a deep kiss as he does so. He pulls away to reach into his bedside table, grabbing a condom and leaning back on his haunches to roll it on. From my spot on the bed, legs framing his hips loosely, he looks almost god-like. The low lamplight of the room colours his skin near golden. I run my eyes down his body, from his shoulders, down the planes of his stomach, down the trail of dark hair on his lower abdomen that leads down to his cock that stands out, long and proud against the thatch of hair there. I watch him roll the condom on, his fingers working to get the latex where it needs to be and I shudder at the sight of them. Long and deft and I can still feel the ghost of them inside of me.

Finally, he grabs my legs, wrapping them around his waist and leaning down to brace himself against the bed, “Ya ready to sing for me?” 

A slight nod of my head is all it takes for him to push into me. The feeling of him stretching and filling me has me arching up into him, fingers gripping his biceps tightly. His mouth drops open on an exhale, the corner of his mouth tugging into a smirk. 

“Shit,” he moans, “Fuck, that’s good.” he moans, hips flush against mine. He sits there for a second, and every moment that passes without movement has me growing more and more impatient. I open my eyes, not remembering closing them in the first place and look up at him. He has a teasing smirk painted across his face, eyes alive and playful. 

I open my mouth to playfully chastise him, it’s rude to make a girl wait, but before I can say anything, he’s pulled his hips back and slammed them forward, a moan ripping its way out of my throat before I can stop it.

“Tha’s it,” he breaths, keeping a slow, but firm, tempo, “Sing for me, baby.” 

I find myself unable to deny him and I’m moaning, a breathy sound escaping me at the end of every thrust. He shifts onto his elbow, one hand moving to grip my hip so he can pull me back to meet his thrusts. His fingers dig into the bone near painfully, but the dull pain swirls into the pleasure so good that I can’t find it in me to be too upset about the bruises I know are going to be there tomorrow. 

His head is tipped down, lips brushing over the skin of my neck. If he’s not sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin he finds there he’s breathing against it heavily, soft moans and whines peppering his breaths. His thrusts pick up, and as the pleasure builds the reins of his voice loosens. 

“Christ,” he grits out, head falling back and straightening his back out. His hands moved to my hips, tightening their hold, “Got me so goddamn worked up...” he trails off, pulling my hips back roughly to meet his. I cry out at the angle this position gives us, his cock dragging against the front of my walls. My hands grip the bed sheets on either side of my head as it rolls to the side.

“Such a nice pussy,” he continues, his words making my ears burn but sending heat down my spine all the same. 

If he was attractive before, he’s absolutely gorgeous now. A sheen layer of sweat covers his skin, making him near grow in the lighting of the room. His muscles straining from their movements, jaw dropped in a pleasure so good it’s painful. His hair is wild, wet at the temples from the effort of his actions. My hands grip his forearms, nails digging into the skin there as I feel myself getting closer once more. 

“Fuck, Merriell,” I moan, meant to be a warning. 

“God, you sound so pretty, moanin’ my name like that,” He groans, eyes rolling back in his head briefly, “Say it again.” 

“Merriell,” I whimper, pleasure climbing and back arching. My muscles clench involuntarily around him, fluttering as a signal for what’s to come. 

“Shit, are you gonna-” 

He doesn’t get to finish the question, my body snapping, arching into his as my second orgasm rips through me, his name ripped from my throat in a near scream. My pleasure only spurs him on, swearing under his breath as his thrusts pick up. He’s still talking, mumbling as his head tips back, slowly as his pleasure climbs, but I’m not sure if it’s even English at this point. 

“God, fucking Christ-” he huffs, each word punctuated with a hard thrust. He gives one last hard thrust and he’s done for. His hands grip me tighter, teeth gritted tightly as he groans through them, hips grinding their way through his own orgasm. It rolls over him, hips thrusting shallowly to draw out the pleasure as much as he can, whimpering lowly with each wave. 

He collapses over me, resting on his elbows as he attempts to catch his breath. My hands come up to rest on his sides, feeling his ribs expand with each panting breath. His lips find mine again, kissing me sloppily, forehead pressed against mine like he just doesn't have the energy to keep it elevated himself. 

He pulls out once we’ve both caught our breath, taking a second to deal with the condom and toss it in the trash can beside the bed before collapsing beside me. The silence that follows isn’t uncomfortable, surprisingly, it’s quite comfortable.

“I don’t usually do things like this,” I say quietly, he turns his head to meet my gaze, “but am I ever glad I did tonight.”

He grins, laughing quietly and nodding in agreement.

“So are you kicking me out?” I ask after a few more minutes. 

He laughs again, wiggling an arm under my waist to drag me closer to him, “Nah.” he says, “I’m not done with ya yet.

~

Consent is hot, guys.

[gettingthatyellowjaundice]

“I worry about you boys,” Burgie says, voice heavy like he’s holding smoke beneath his tongue. “Always.”

It’s late at night, so many stars in this strange Chinese sky that Snafu can’t hardly see - not the too-bright blue of Burgie’s eyes, his sweat-slick throat or sunburned shoulders. He ain’t pale, not like Hammer; no long-fingered hands of too many fine, slender bones, bones that could break easy as flower stems - not Burgie. He never knew such softness.

“Whaddya worry about us for?” Snafu asks him lazily, talking round cotton balls ‘cause it’s late at night and he’s tired, so damn tired. He’s been tired ever since the war’s end. 

The light changes, the moon shifting on her axis, and he can see Burgie’s eyes now - that damn electric blue, the color of lightning - and he’s close, close enough Snafu can smell the heat of the day still lingering in the pores of his skin, smoke and dirt and little Chinese girls who go squeak in the night. He wants to raise his finger and trace it along the fine, sinewed muscles of his arms. He wants to feel his blood pumping beneath his fingertips. Tell me that you love me, huh, he wants to whisper, voice low and only for Burgie to hear, no one else in all the world because no one else need hear this save Burgie and he. Tell me you love me, Burgie, only me.

“Hell, I don't know.” Burgie smiles at him, lopsided and a little wrenched at the corners. “Just seems to me like the war took a toll on all of us in one way or another. Can’t rightfully leave you alone with that kind of an echo. Besides, somebody’s got to worry about you, don’t they?”

“Sure they do.” Snafu grabs loosely at Burgie’s wrist because it’s lying there beside him and it's something rough and tangible, something that's been stained with the same red-black blood as his own. He grins dopily at him, means every word he says: “You’re a good man, Burgie.” 

Burgie laughs, his breath smelling of rice wine, doesn’t move his wrist away. And Snafu feels loose and young for the first time in a long time, feels something other than that strange, blank grief that’s followed him since Victory Day, since he tipped his head back and looked at the stars, surely the same stars he knew back home, and asked what do we do now without an answer, because maybe there wasn’t an answer, maybe there was never supposed to be a return home. God fucked up royal.

“Not only me,” Burgie says softly, tripping over the words, his eyes seeming to blur at the edges. “You’re a good man too, Shelton. Better than you’ll ever know.”

“Mm. Say what you want, don’t make it true.”

Snagu runs his thumb over the knotted scar on Burgie’s palm. He remembers that day. The smoking debris of a shell, burning in Burgie’s skin, not enough time for a bandage, then later: pink, damaged flesh that would never heal the same again. Burgie had displayed it to him proudly, cheeks pink with sunburn on Pavuvu, and said: it’s my own personal medal of honor. If I get through this damn war, I’ll show it to every man I meet.

Ain’t nobody gettin’ through this war, Snafu had answered, because he’d been empty then, ready to die, to leave behind war and all the hollow-eyed men who’d once been baby boots, faces still fresh from when their mamas had washed them last. 

“Y’remember what I said?” He asks Burgie quietly. Burgie’s eyes are half-shut and fixed on some vague point on the horizon; maybe west, maybe America, wherever home is for him. “When you showed me your scar that day on Pavuvu?”

“Sure I do.” He smiles at Snafu without looking at him. “I knew you were wrong, y’know, even when you said it. We weren’t never gonna die, not one of us. Always knew we were gonna make it home.”

“Only ‘cause of you. Hadn’t been for you, I would’ve been rotting somewhere in the Pacific right now with six bullet holes where my heart used to be.”

“A good thing you ain’t,” Burgie murmurs. “Would’ve broken my heart, Snafu.”

There’s something naked and honest in his voice when he says that, like a child confessing to something done wrong. Snafu’s only heard it once before, a long time ago on Gloucester when he’d said to Burgie on some black, rain-drenched night: You’re gonna save the world someday, Burg. Gonna save every single last one of us. He’d reached up and touched his hair, a colorless blob in the dark, except he’d known, he’d known it was copper in the daylight. Me too, even. We’re all gonna be alright because of you, gonna go on. And Burgie had laughed, the sound low and close to his ear, and he’d smelled like sweat and mud, like war, and whispered back: I don’t care about the world, Snaf. I just want to save you.

Snafu closes his eyes and wishes for the bravery of that night to tell Burgie that loves him. Wishes that Burgie loved him back. Wishes a thousand, a hundred thousand things and none of them make any sense because he isn’t even meant to be alive in this moment, Burgie’s warm skin against his own, drunk on rice wine and life, on the knowledge that he’s twenty-two years old and can do whatever he wants with the time that’s been given to him by accident.

“You’re a good man, Burgie,” He mumbles one more time, sick with regret for things that haven’t happened yet, for the things he’ll never say but should have said. “Don’t you forget that, you hear?”

[akhmenawkward]

Uncertain: Snafu Shelton x Reader

Request: Hello! :D I’m absolutely in love with your writing! ( I just wanted to say that first. :3) But I was wondering if you could do an Snafu fluff, with the raider beating somebody he found on the battlefield and now has fallen in love with her, but she doesn’t know to return the feelings? But then it works out somehow XD. I know it’s stupid but I really want you of all to write it ^-^“ Sorry for bothering! :D

It was silent. For the first time in days there was no other sound than the snoring of sleeping marines, and the quiet sleepy mumbles they spoke as they had a nightmare. Often somebody would scream, waking up from a horrid nightmare, and realizing they were okay. Well, at least for the moment.

But Snafu couldn’t sleep. 

His eyes roamed over his surroundings as his friends took their chance to get some rest. He envied their peaceful snores, and there heaving chest, and he desperately wanted to close his eyes too, but he couldn’t. Every time these he closed his eyes, images of the battlefield, people dying, the sound of rifles and mortars filled his mind. It was too much for him, and the best thing he could do now, was to watch over his friends.

His eyes were focused on the dark sky above him. His hands were behind his head, supporting as he leaned back against the edge of the hole they were sitting in. Surrounding him were about 12 others, filled with marines, weapons and ammunition. 

He sighed deeply, eyes focussed on the sky. The clouds had passed, and the only thing visible were the bright stars, with in the corner of his eye a beautiful full moon.

“H-Help…” 

He shot up at the sound of a voice. It was faint, and he wasn’t sure if he heard it or not. His hand grabbed his rifle as a reflex while he sat up slightly.

“Help!” 

The voice was now loud and clear, and it sounded like someone was suffering. He scanned his surroundings, looking for something unusual.

“Who’s there?!” He yelled into the night, making several other marines groan. One of his friends mumbled something in his sleep, and turned away from Snafu. He took a second to glance at some other holes, but he quickly averted his eyes back to the battlefield in front of him when a small voice responded.

“P-please help… I’m injured…” 

He looked at one of the holes beside him. There was a guy awake, and smoking a cigarette. The half lidded guy snorted at Snafu, clearly battling against exhaustion by the look of his red eyes. He raised his eyebrows at Snafu’s tense posture, then snorted.

“It’s a trap, Snaf.” 

Snafu scoffed, and ignored his comment. He quietly escaped the hole, and jogged towards the battlefield with his rifle in his hands, pointing in front of him. His feet sunk into the mud of the wet underground, and he had a hard time keeping his pace. 

Suddenly he saw something move from the corner of his eye. He turned to it, and pointed his rifle at the moving object. As he slowly neared it, he recognized the person crippling on the ground in pain, and quickly lowered his weapon. 

“Inured one on second base!” He screamed back at the group, before quickly making his way towards you. The guy, previously warning him, suddenly shot up, before tapping a fellow marine harshly on the back of his helm, telling him to get help.

Snafu crouched down beside you, and inspected your appearance for injuries. You groaned in pain, and nodded your head towards your shoulder. He noticed your hand, harshly pressing on the blood seeping wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

“You’re gonna be okay. What’s ya name?” Snafu asked you, as he replaced your hand with his, and waited for the others to come help him carry you. Quick footsteps could be heard near you, and within seconds there was already a group of people surrounding you, with bandages and salt.

“I-It’s Y/n, from Love-company. My group has been assassinated. “ 

Snafu nodded, and motioned the rest to grab your legs as he carried you by your shoulders. You screamed in pain, but quickly tried to keep quiet by loudly grunting.

“Don’t ya worry, Y/n. We got you.”

*A few months later*

“”What do we do now?” What an-“

“…Idiot?” You finished Snafu’s mocking sentence, and he nodded at you. You agreed with his statement. Sledge handed you a bottle, filled with some kind of brown liquid. You had no idea what it contained, but at the moment you just wanted to get drunk. 

After months of fighting and fighting, losing friends and strangers, the enemy had finally surrendered. 

With that thought you took a big gulp of the bottle, and hummed in satisfaction as you felt the liquid burn your throat. Perhaps the danswater couldn’t erase the memories of this past year, for at least tonight you would be free. 

Sledgehammer chuckled as you took another swig, grimacing at the vile taste of the liquid poison. Whistling, you offer Snafu the bottle, which he gladly takes. “Should we get back there and celebrate?” Sledge questions, nodding towards the singing and dancing soldiers, already drunk after bottles and bottles of rum and liquors.

“I don’t care. I just want to get drunk.” Snafu answered.

“Agreed.” You tell him, while climbing up the rock to sit beside the Cajun. Snafu continues to clench his thirst for escape, and downs almost half the bottle, before you steal it from his lips. 

“I need this.” You smirked and took the rest, which had him snort at your brassy attitude.  Sledge scoffed sarcastically and walked up tot the two of you. He grabbed the now empty bottle from your hand and held it up to meet his eye.

“I’ll go get us some more.” He announced, while leaving you and Snafu alone. For a moment it stayed silent, only the celebrating shouts of marines filling the air between you, but yet so silent with none of you speaking.

“Whatcha thinking about?” 

He hummed, and shrugged. You quickly glanced at his appearance. His perfectly clean face stood out from his dirty uniform, and it made you smile slightly. His cigarettes and lighter poked out from his pocket, untouched and still ready to use.

“There’s so many things I’m thinking ‘bout.” 

You only nodded, and nudged him with your shoulder.

“And yet so silent,” You stole a tiny flask peeking from him pocket, popped it open and began drinking once more, “Spill it, princess.”

Snafu chuckled, then sighed, as if he was going to regret answering to you.

“Have these last month meant anything to ya?” 

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, and shrugged. You didn’t understand what he was getting at.

“I’m feelin’ things I never expected to feel.” 

This made your eyes widen, and you almost spit out your drink. You turned to Snafu with a surprised  expression, but he kept staring in front of him.

“D-Do you mean… between us?” 

He sighed and nodded, slightly turning to you, but only to grab the flask from your hands.

“I’ve never been good at saying good byes, but this time it seems even harder,” You didn’t see him move, but suddenly a cigarette dangles from his lips, “It feels like my heart is ripping open my chest.”

You kept staring at him. He was acting so casual about it, and you didn’t understand why.

“I have feelings for ya, Y/n. But you’re going ya own way, and I’m going mine.”

 You felt your heart skip a beat, and you didn’t know how to respond. You opened your mouth, but no words came out. He turned to you, and you finally noticed the sadness in his eyes.

“I don’t know what to say.” You told him honestly to which he nodded.

“Don’t say a thing then.”

“But I wanna tell you I like you.” 

His eyes widened in surprise, his body turned to yours, so he was now properly facing you.

“But I-I don’t know how…” You mumbled. He just stared at you. His bright blue eyes piercing into yours, waiting for another respond to his statement. He shook his head, and stood up. The bottle slipped from his hands, fell to the ground, and shattered against the rocks. 

You flinched at the pieces of glass flying around, but you remain seated. You stared at Snafu in confusion, and he just stared back at you with confusion and regret painting his features.

“You don’t like me. Don’t pretend like you do.” 

You felt a slight hint of irritation, as he scoffed and walked away from you. You followed him down the rock, trying to convince him to come back.

“Don’t walk away, Shelton.”

”I’ve said enough.” 

You grabbed ahold of him, fingers tightening around his forearm, which finally turned him towards you.

“You’re a soldier, you don’t get to walk away,” You snap at him, which has annoyance wield up in his gaze, “Talk to me, as it’s only fair.”

He takes a drag from his cigarette, and blowed the grey clouds right in your face. It showed how he feels. The way he angrily flicked the ashes off his cig, and how the smoke slipped from between his clenched teeth.

“I told ya everything!” 

You became frustrated at his stubbornness, and you grabbed his arm tighter. You pulled him closer, and connected your lips to his. Mouths crashed together, teeth banging against one another’s and noses bumping. 

Snafu froze into the kiss, but suddenly took control, cupping your cheeks with his hands. You gasped at his sudden dominance, but melted into the kiss. 

You eventually pulled apart, and stared into his eyes. They showed lust, but also frustration and sadness.

“This will never work, Y/n.” 

You shook your head, grabbed his cigarette from his fingers and took a drag. 

“We’ll make it work.”

[rami-hoe]

37, 41 and 36 with Snaf maybe at like the end of an argument that gets pretty heated but then they simmer back down as they realize how much they really need each other 💕💕 (love your writing btw!)

I got a little carried away with this one- might be closer to a one shot than a drabble

It was the fourth night in a row Merriell I had woken up to Merriell’s thrashing, and the fourth night in a row Merriell had wrenched upright, drenched in sweat, and stormed out of the room before I had a chance to offer any support or comfort. Neither of us had been getting very much sleep lately. Mer brushed his exhaustion off every time I asked or offered any suggestions. I told him he should go see the doctor, get some of those sleeping pills Margie’s husband starting using after he came home, but he wouldn’t admit he needed the help.

When Mer first started having these nightmares, I would follow him into the living room after he woke up, and he would demand I go back to bed. I tried not to be hurt by it; I knew he was having a rough time, but I couldn’t deny that it stung every time he snapped at me. I wanted to respect his wishes; if he needed to be alone, I should let him, shouldn’t I? But I couldn’t stop myself from worrying every time he left our bed. I could never get back to sleep while I knew he was out there, awake and hurting.

I slipped out of bed against my better judgment and padded down the hall. Merriell was seated at the kitchen table, a cigarette in one hand while the other rested on his forehead. His bleary eyes barely glanced at me when he heard me approaching.

“Go back to bed,” he said.

I pulled out the chair next to him and sat down. “Maybe if you talked about it-” “I don’t need to talk,” he snapped. The anger in his eyes made my chest tighten.

“Mer, I just want to help.”

His hand slammed down on the table and I jumped. “I don’t want your help!”  

My jaw clenched. I knew he didn’t mean it, but I didn’t deserve this treatment either. I’d done nothing but try to help him, and he pushed me away again and again. “You can’t do this alone, Mer,” I insisted. “You can’t keep pushing me away, you need someone-”

“I don’t need anyone!” He snubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray. “What I need is for you to stop pestering me all the time. I don’t need your help, I don’t need to talk, I don’t need you.”

Merriell’s hands rested on his temples as my eyes began to water. “Well if that’s how you feel, then leave.” I stood up and went to the kitchen to get a glass of water, not bother to look back to see Merriell’s reaction. I didn’t mean it, of course. They were just harsh words said in the heat of the moment. Regret hit me like a truck the moment I said it, but it was too late to take it back. It was out there now, floating in the air. I heard him push his chair back, but did not turn around until I heard fabric rustling near the door. My brow furrowed as I watched him lift his jacket off the hook and start to pull it on. “What are you doing?”

He looked over at me. The anger had drained out of his eyes completely. He just looked tired. “You told me to leave.”

I ran my fingers through my hair and sucked in a shaky breath. “You’re not even dressed, Mer,” I said. “Where’re you gonna go? It’s the middle of the night.”

He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter,” he said. “I’ll find a place.”

It wasn’t until he stepped into his boots that I realized he was serious. I rushed over to him and stood between him and the door. “You’re not going anywhere,” I said. I reached out to pull his jacket off, but he stepped back. “I’m sorry, Mer, I didn’t mean it.”

“Yes you did,” he said. “And you had every right ta say it, too.”

“Mer-”

“All I do it hurt you!” Tears filled his eyes and fell down his cheeks when he blinked. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t say that.” I stepped towards him and pulled his jacket down his arms. I set it back on the hook, and wrapped my arms around Merriell. “You deserve the world, after what you did.”

He laughed. “So I fight, then I have the right to make you miserable the rest of your life? And what about what you deserve, huh? A man who can take care of you, make ya happy.”

“You do make me happy.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re over the moon right now.” He pulled my arms off of him and walked into the kitchen. He leaned against the counter and squeezed his eyes shut as walked over to him

“There’s always bad with the good, in everything,” I said. “You can’t think I’m not happy with you because things aren’t perfect.” I placed my hand over his. “I love you. You’re an amazing man.”

“I’m a fucked up man,” he said. “That’s why they called me Snafu.”

I sighed. “You’re not as bad as you think you are,” I said. “However ‘fucked up’ you think you are, you’re still kind, strong, funny-”

“Just stop.” Merriell pulled his hand away.

“No.” I reached out to him again. “Baby, I will never stop trying to help you see your beauty.” I cupped his cheeks and leaned in to press my forehead against his. “I love you as much now as I did the day you left, and I’ll keep loving you until the day I die. There’s no doubt in my mind about that.”

Merriell’s hands moved up my arms and wrapped around my wrists. He tilted his chin upwards to press our lips together. “I do… Need you.” His voice was a barely audible whisper, but each word rang in my ears.

I smiled against his lips. “Let’s go back to bed.”

[hack-king]

House of Rami - “It’s called decency”

@purepeanutbutter requested “Kenny and Snafu solidarity with Kenny teaching Snafu how to play chess and Snafu protecting Kenny.”

Warning for some violence. But if you watched The Pacific, I don’t know how that would bother you. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Kenny stares at the board for a solid thirty seconds.

Snafu is getting antsy.

Kenny scratches the back of his neck and hovers his hand over his bishop.

Snafu sweats.

Kenny moves the bishop.

“Check.”

Snafu hastily moves his King out of the way.

Kenny smirks.

“Still check.”

Snafu moves it again.

“Still check.”

Snafu makes a half-hearted attempt to move his king again. Then he just lets it drop.

Kenny takes out his king, and Snafu scowls for the umpteenth time.

“It’s about strategy, Snaf, you gotta know what the other guy is thinking,” Kenny admonishes gently. “You gotta be patient.”

“I don’t care what the other guy is thinking. I just gotta know where he is so I can shoot him,” Snafu growls. He starts setting the board up again. “An’ I ran outta patience a long time ago.”

Kenny looks troubled.

“Maybe we can work on that – ”

“Hey faggot!”

Kenny freezes.

Snafu goes rigid.

There’s a group of boys heading towards their park table. Snafu quickly sizes them up. They seem to be around Kenny’s age, but almost all of them are larger than both Kenny and himself. They seem the mean, stereotypical type of homophobic dickheads you see in the media nowadays. They also all look somewhat inebriated, which Snafu knows is illegal for kids their age.

Snafu quickly decides he’s going to kick their fucking heads in.

Kenny still has his back to the encroaching bullies, but Snafu can see the recognition on his face. And the resignation. It both scares, saddens, and annoys Snafu at the same time.

“Hey, fairy,” says the leader, and Snafu twitches at hearing the familiar slur. His hands, already curled into fists, are starting to leave bloody half-moons in his palms.

Kenny sends him a warning look, just before the leader take a swing at his head.

Instantly, Snafu has leapt over the table and has caught the offender’s wrist, twisting it until he screams.

Other park-goers finally look around at the sound.

“Snafu – ” Kenny starts, but Snafu is already talking.

“You like beating up kids, huh, you little shit? Bet beating up other people makes you feel good about yourself.”

The leader is yelling, words slurring. His lackies don’t seem sure of what to do. They want to help, but the threat of the man in front of them manages to register somewhere in their drunken frat boy minds. Snafu’s always had an air about him that he’s not someone to be trifled with, and it only intensified after the war.

“You like taking frustrations out on already oppressed kids? Hell, maybe you don’t even have a good reason for it. Maybe you just like being a dick. Maybe you just wanna see my brother dead because you just don’t think he’s deserving of life like the rest of you are. Well, I’ve got news for ya, kid – it isn’t fucking going to happen.” And he breaks the guy’s wrist.

The guy screams and the others decide to finally book it. Snafu raises his fist, with all the intention to end it. All the fury, and oppression he ever suffered at the hands of these fuckers – he’s going to put it into this blow. He’s going to make them pay for what they’ve done to him, to Kenny, to people like them. He’s going to do it.

“MERRIELL, NO!”

Snafu stops.

He looks over his shoulder, sends a disbelieving look at Kenny. The kid is shaking, eyes wide, skin a tone paler.

“Merriell, you have to stop. People are watching.”

Snafu stares at the gathering crowd. Some of them have their phones out.

He lets the kid go, but crouches down to deliver a final message. He makes sure his voice is loud enough for the others to hear.

“I was in the marines, you piece of shit. I fought for the people of America, but not for fuckers like you. I kill fuckers like you. Grow some fucking decency before you come back here, you hear me?”

Snafu knows that him being a marine, looking so young, and in this time, doesn’t make any sense. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care what anyone thinks about him in that moment. He only cares about making the guy in front of him suffer for hurting Kenny.

The guy whimpers, nodding.

“Get lost, then.”

The guy stumbles to his feet and runs unsteadily in the direction his friends went in.

Snafu stands and looks around at the crowd of people. He has to take a few deep breaths in before he’s calm enough to speak.

“Next time you see a hate crime in progress, maybe you should think about stepping in before it goes too far. Otherwise, shit like this – ” he points lazily in the direction the bullies went, “ – happens. What I did was can be seen as going too far, and I understand that. But it was only because what those fuckers wanted that I reacted as such. You have to understand they would have done much worse to my friend if I had let it go unchecked. They would let much worse happen to everyone like me and my friend if they had their way. Do you understand that?”

There is some mumbling among the crowd.

Snafu glares at them all.

“Do you understand that?! Then why didn’t you help?!”

Some of the crowd shuffles around uncomfortably. The rest look indignant, or resigned.

Snafu resents them all.

“Next time have some human fucking decency and compassion. Then maybe next time won’t happen at all.”

Kenny is crying silently.

Snafu gently takes hold of his arm.

“Hey, Ken. You good? Good. Got all the stuff? That’s great, Ken. Come on, let’s get outta here. You promised to show me that ice cream place downtown, didn’t ya? Not gonna deny me ice cream, are ya?”

Kenny smiles tearfully and shakes his head.

“Come on, you can show me this place and we can get some treats, and we can watch a movie later at your place. Come on, Kenny.”

Kenny nods shakily. Snafu sends one last look at what is left of the crowd. They avert their eyes. Snafu looks away.

And then he and Kenny leave together.

[readyourimgaines]

Eugene’s Sister

This is my first try at a Pacific fanfiction, so please be patient with me. I hope this is a least a little decent despite the scene jumping. Tell me what you think. I finished the show for the first time (after having started it like a month or two ago) on Saturday and I started writing this yesterday, so I’m not a 100% I got the characterization right.  -Freddie 

“Why am I s’posed to be goin’ Mobile?”

“So that you’re not going home to nobody and because my sister wants to meet you,” Eugene answered without looking up from his Bible.

“You told your sister ‘bout me?” Snafu looked worried. He also looked like he was trying to hide it.

“I did. You were in my squad. Nothing bad, Snaf. Told ‘er your real name.” Eugene closed his book as he made eye contact with Merriell. “I only have on request in regards to my sister.”

“Name it.”

“Respect her. Swearing and smoking doesn’t bother her any, just...no crude jokes about her.” Eugene explained. He wasn’t even try to keep the plea from his voice.

“I’ll show your sista respect Sledgehamma.”

Alice was coming down the stairs just as the door opened. The hand her book was in went slack , falling to the stairs. Eugene dropped his bag to the floor and rushed to meet his sister in a hug. His arms went around her waist and he lifted her off the floor, spinning in a circle.

“Good god. I thought you weren’t gonna be coming home,” she gushed. “Eugene.” She kissed his cheek. “Oh god.”

“It’s alright, Allie; I’m home,” he tightened his embrace for a few seconds before letting go.

Alice smiled at Merrill when she saw him. “I’m Alice,” she held her hand out to him.

He re-positioned his rucksack so he could shake her hand. “Merriell Shelton, Miss.”

“So you’re the Merriell Gene’s told me about in his letters. All good things, of course, Mr. Shelt-”

“Merriell, please.”

“Merriell,” she nodded, committing to memory not to be nearly as formal with the man. “It’s nice to have a voice and face to put to the name.” Alice smiled again. “Mama’s gonna be over the moon to see you, Eugene.”

“So what are your plans now that the war’s ended, Mr. Shelton?” Mrs. Sledge asked. Merriell had tried telling the woman three times to call him my his first name; he gave up after the fourth try.

“Ain’t so sure just yet, Ma’am,” he answered.

“Aren’t your parents gonna worry about you?” Alice asked.

Merrill didn’t want to answer that. He didn’t care if she knew, but that was getting too close to ‘Snafu territory’ for his comfort.

“Nah. They died ‘bout 10 years years back,” he opted for. They were still living. That’s just how long ago he ran out.

Two weeks had passed and both vets were still staying in the Sledge household. There were nights when Snafu or Eugene would have nightmares from the war. Dr. and Mrs. Sledge did their best to ignore the cries of the young men. It was often Alice that wake up the boys or the vet not having the nightmare would wake up the one that was.

This particular night, Eugene was having a nightmare; thrashing and crying out in his sleep. His and Alice’s parents were sitting outside his room.

“What the hell’s wrong with you two?” Alice asked as she swept passed them and into Eugene’s room, closing the door behind her.

The question had gotten Snafu’s attention- spiking his memory back to when he and Sledge had found the Japanese woman’s screaming infant. He quickly moved himself out of his bed, pulling on a pair of pants over his boxers and walked into the hall, ignoring the slightly horrified look on Mrs. Sledge’s face at his lack of proper clothing.

“Eugene,” Alice gently took hold of her brother’s wrists. She used his arms to pull the two of them closer to each other, wrapping her arms- and Eugene’s- around her brother in a hug. She had learned the trick of grabbing Eugene’s wrists when she’d gotten Snafu’s help in waking Eugene.

“Eugene, you’ve gotta wake up. You’re back in Mobile. You’re safe again.” Alice spoke gently. Eugene struggled against his sister’s hold, still half asleep.

The door opened and Snafu ambled in, closing the door again. “Come on, Sledgehamma. Open your eyes, boo,” Snafu drawled. “This ain’t what I meant when I said I like seein’ the new guys sweat.”

Eugene’s eyes snapped open, he slumped in his sister’s arms and Alice let go give arms, hugging him around the middle, Eugene sitting because of Alice sitting right behind him. “Snaf,” Eugene sighed in relief.

“Back home, boo.”

“Where’d ‘Snaf’ come from?” Alice asked. Said man in question stiffened slightly. Eugene was too frazzled to feel guilty about the slip up.

“War nickname. Everyone got one,” he shrugged.

“So that’s where Sledgehammer came from. What does ‘Snaf’ mean?” Alice wondered. He wasn’t getting out of this. She’d woken him up from nightmares. She knew he was at least a little crazy.

“Cut the ‘u’ off the end… Depends on who ya asked. Situation normal all fucked up; shit’n ass fuck up. Means the same thing.”

“Sir, I didn’t mean no-”

“Using that language around a lady,” Dr. Sledge all but raged.

Snafu sighed. “I already told ya. She asked what ‘Snaf’ meant. Ain’t really a way ta answer it without swearin’.”

“So you don’t answer the question,” the doctor pinched the bridge of his nose just under his glasses.

“That’s the way doctors deal with questions, then? Less than pleasin’ word comes up an’ ya the ignore the question. She’s been wakin’ us up from these damn nightmares from the war, I figured she’s okay to know what the war nickname came from if she’s askin’.”

“Where did it come from?”

“You heard what it means, Doc. I ain’t exactly right up here,” Snafu tapped his temple with his index finger, an almost unsettling smirk on his lips.

“I don’t think that’s all sorts of a good idea, Merriell,” Alice giggled as the two walked through the town (the had been sent to get something Gene wanted but they forgot so they wondered). The latter opened his mouth to say something but bit the comment back, closing his mouth. “What aren’t you saying?” she asked.

“Something I shouldn’t say,” he shook his head.

“Says who?”

“Your daddy weren’t too pleased for last night.” Snafu stuck his hands in the pockets of his pants and Alice linked their elbows as they walked.

“What for- He didn’t like your swearing in front of me, did he?” she said slowly. “Well don’t pay him no mind. I’m not a child and I sure hell aren’t a ‘lady’ like he keeps going on about. I swear, I smoke, and I have in fact drank alcohol before,” she huffed. Snafu just chuckled.

“I’m not sayin’, Als. Even yer brother woulda whacked me for this one,” Snafu refused. “I’ve heard you swear twice now, though. Ladies don’ do that, ya know,” he smirked. Alice just smacked his arm.

The next morning, Alice was making breakfast while Snafu set to making coffee; Eugene was going through the paper, his father at work and his mother taking a stroll.

“Who’s looking at moving?” Eugene asked, having noticed the little dashes in pencil next to a couple of apartments that were open for renting.

“Me,” Alice said. She turned toward her brother, leaning her back against the counter.

“Why’s that?” Eugene watched his sister.

“To get you two the hell outta here.”

“You’re paying your way through school, Allie. We don’t have jobs yet.”

“I’m between terms. That’s a month or month in a half for you two to get jobs. But mama and papa are killing the both of you. Their constant fussing over you. Papa’s trying to muffle Merriell.”

“Does Merrielle get a say?” Snafu asked.

“Do you wanna stay here?” Alice raised an eyebrow.

“I ain’t sayin’ that, Als,” Snafu said quickly. “I’ll get on findin’ a job. Saw somethin’ in the paper the other day. I’ll find somethin’ ‘fore the week’s out.”

“So I’ll call the landlord?” she looked between her brother and friend. Eugene looked conflicted.

The front door opened and shut, their mother was back from her walk. “Eugene, I walked the dog for you so you could sleep in a little more,” she called since she heard the carrying of voices.

“Fuck it,” Eugene whispered. “Do it.”     

[mcrriellshelton]

it actually fits really well w the Real snafs compulsion to bury memories in the backyard as sacrifice to the moon

[auroralightsthesky]

The Pacific/ Avatar AU Headcannons

Robert Leckie- Waterbender, also Southern Water Tribe. Leckie was one hell of an emotional rollercoaster and waterbenders are often emotional as well. Plus those eyes man!!! Those damn eyes!!!

Bill “Hoosier” Smith- Waterbender from the south as well!! I don’t know why but for whatever reason I can’t picture Hoosier as anything else but a waterbender. 

Runner Conley- possibly a firebender. He’s got the build for it but then again I could be wrong.

Chuckler Jurgens- tall bean is an airbender. His personality lines with Aang’s perfectly.

Sidney Phillips- Waterbender and healer, he always has to patch the others up after the Earth Rumble tournaments or after a fight. 

Eugene Sledge- Earthbender. Sledge is basically Toph. People underestimate him because of the heart murmur but once he’s in the Earth Rumble arena or in the thick of battle people learn quickly why he’s called “Sledgehammer.”

Merriel “Snafu” Shelton- ah, how could we ever forget this scary bean?  Snafu is Foggy Swamp through and through. During their journey through the Serpent’s Pass, Gene almost drowned and Snaf jumped in to save him. Sledge mistook him for his girlfriend and accidentally kissed Snafu on the cheek but after realizing his mistake, he told Snafu that “You can go ahead and let me drown now”. 

RV Burgin- another earthbender. At first I thought Burgie would be a waterbender but I looked into it a little bit more. Tough doesn’t even begin to describe Burgie. He took over leader after Eddie and Ack Ack got killed and was described as always being tough minded (according to the wiki page). If that doesn’t make him an earthbender then I don’t know what does. 

Jay De L’Eau- yet another earthbender (I know there are one too many water and earthbenders). Jay was one tough little sucker despite his breakdown in Episode 7. He competes in the earthbending tournaments alongside Sledge and Burgie too, just to show people that he may be a small bean but he can still kick some ass. 

Andrew “Ack Ack” Haldane and Edward “Hillbilly” Jones- both waterbenders, one from the south pole the other from the Foggy Swamp. These two would flood a whole island just to kill to kill their enemies. 

John Basilone- Firebender through and through. John is one of only three in the group who can bend and redirect lightning. Manny, JP and the others know not to mess with him or Speirs for this very reason. 

JP Morgan and Manny Rodriguez- Firebenders and John’s best friends from the Firebending Academy. These three would not only be deadly in an Agni Kai fight, but can you imagine them plus Speirs during Sozin’s Comet? That firestorm would be visible for miles. 

Chuck Tatum- MY OTHER SWEET BOI IS A WATERBENDER!!! I know redheads probably aren’t common in the Southern Water Tribe but after watching Episode 8 of The Pacific, this lil bean gave off MAJOR Katara vibes. He can create ice prisons (and turn the inside of the ice to pure liquid) and even heal himself, which comes in handy every time John, JP and Manny go at it because one of them once burned his hands........badly. Even Sobel was impressed when he saw his healing powers. Which is a good thing because.....

Steve Evanson- is a hard headed, cocky, stubborn as fuck earthbender!! The gang has pretty much lost count of how many times this kid has gotten himself into trouble for running his mouth, but damn can he pitch a rock like nobody’s business. Steve goes absolutely balls-to-the-wall in a fight and when the dirt flies, it flies.

Lena Riggi- all hail the leader of the Kyoshi Warriors!! Lena would definitely fit in with these girls and if people mess with her or John, the gloves come off. 

Vera Keller- another Kyoshi Warrior. Vera definitely gave me Suki vibes after watching both series. 

Stella Karamanlis- Stella is basically Princess Yue. She had a short relationship with Leckie because she felt that it was her duty to save the Moon Spirit and didn’t want him or the others to get killed. 

[anothers-trash-my-treasure]

Rami, Snaf, and Ahk. Their ideal first date.

Rami

I feel like rami’s ideal first date is just like a simple dinner and a then like a nice moon lit walk. The restaurant is nice, maybe not super fancy but definitely fancier than what you would have picked out. He treats, doesn’t take no for an answer. After the restaurant it’s a nice walk in a park or an a board walk, just talking and getting to know each other. He’d drive you home, walk you to the door and you’re damn right he’s kissing you goodnight.

Snaf

I’ve always pictured snaf as planning an all day date. So he’d pick you up probably mid morning for a brunch/lunch kind of date and then you’d spend the whole day together. You’d drive around the city, maybe go to a beach or just park somewhere are talk for hours. He’d take you to the best creole restaurant he knows for dinner (where all the staff knows his name and his order) and then after that he takes you dancing. Snafs a big dancer, I always pictured him growing up with sisters and so he knows how to spin and twirl you just right. It’s such a good day and you just don’t want it to end so when he drops you off at home you ask him to come in for a drink. And if things get a little heated behind closed doors well that’s for you and him to know.

Ahk

I think his ideal first date in his time period would be a nice adventure down the Nile. It’d be slow and soothing but he’d feed you grapes and wine all day and heck maybe you ever go for a dip if it gets too hot.

Museum ahk however, I think his idea of a first date is getting Larry to help him set up a dinner table with the closest food he can find that resembles his time period and telling you all about his life. In turn he’d want to know everything about you and your life.

[anothers-trash-my-treasure]

His Only Dance Partner

Uh, hey. So, I rewatched the last five episodes of the Pacific and was greatly inspired by the last episode to write this because I will never be able to stomach the fact that Snaf just left Eugene on the train. So I’m sorry, I know no one asked for this. But I needed it to happen. 

I promise I’m gonna start working on requests again soon, I know I’m the worst.

Pairing: Sledgefu (Ya that’s right you heARD ME)

Word Count: 2100ish

Warnings: Mentions of war...I think that’s it? 

Tag List: @the-almond-dinger @elliotmercury @r-ahh-mi

Let me know if you wanna be put on my permanent tag list and I’ll try to remember lol. 

“Your lonely nights are numbered, Eugene.”

Eugene stifles an eye roll. This conversation, the topic being his virginity and the women in Mobile with his brother, was one he had been dreading. Sure, what he told his brother had been true, the only women in their part of the Pacific were nurses and they were very much off limits. But Eugene didn’t want them to be on limits. Why would he when he had everything he could have ever dreamed, right there with him.

Keyword being ‘had’, as everything he could have ever dreamed left him on the train without so much as a simple goodbye or a note. But no, Edward, Eugene was not a virgin anymore, had not been for some time. He can’t help but doubt his brother's words, his lonely nights are most certainly not numbered. They feel endless to Eugene. With every sleepless night that passes, filled with false images of sea green eyes draining of life, of dark blood staining everything it touches and of too loud explosives, Eugene’s hope of no longer being alone, in that way, dwindles a little more.

He can’t listen to his brother talk about the ball. All he can focus on is the heart-wrenching pain he felt when he woke up alone, blinking the sleep from his eyes expecting to find curly hair and a sly smile but instead found an ugly, empty train seat staring back at him. The pain that never quite faded, even after coming to grips with the simple truth. Eugene fell in love. And clearly, it wasn’t a two-sided love as he had thought.

“You wear your uniform to that ball, all the ripe fruit will be falling at your feet.”

No. Eugene thinks, he doesn’t want ripe fruit. And he certainly, doesn’t want to put on that godforsaken uniform.

~

He doesn’t put on the uniform. But he goes to the ball, for what reason, he’s not sure. Sid pulled him along, saying something or another about spiking the punch and dancing with Mary’s friend Sue. But as the night wore on and as Eugene stayed to sidelines of the ball, Sid began to back off, opting to dance with his fiance instead.

There were too many people. All pressed too close together, Eugene could practically feel the heat radiating off of everyone at once. The music was too loud. The melody swang nicely, made your body sway without you even realizing it. But it reminded Eugene all too much of one that was hummed in his ear during those long nights huddled in a fox hole. He watched couples dance, staring sweetly into each other's eyes and laughing at words spoken only for them. And he was overcome with at first jealousy. It wasn’t fair, that these couples could dance, press their lips against one anothers and be close. And then anger, because when Eugene had someone, they were limited. Limited to stolen kisses in the dark when everyone was sleeping, to subtle touches when no one was paying attention, to barley believed lies and stolen glances. The pairs at the ball could be with one another without fear of consequence. Yet if Eugene had been caught, or even suspected of his relationship, if it could be called that, Eugene wasn’t so sure anymore, they had to fear the worst.  

 It was all too much. Making a bee-line for the door, Eugene fished the pipe out of his pocket, barely refraining from lighting it before he got outside. His legs carried him away from the people, just far enough where he couldn’t be accused of leaving, just simply getting some air. Inhaling deeply, Eugene let the smoke from his pipe fill his lungs, exhaling the smoke quickly when the taste of it sparked another memory that made his heart clench. In an attempt to take his mind off of him, Eugene revelled in being alone. It had felt like forever since he was truly alone. His mother always hovering over his shoulder, his father's concerned gaze watching him from afar.

It’s cut short though, interrupted by Sid handing him a glass of punch. He can tell Sid wants to talk more about why he’s alone, and Eugene isn’t sure that he’ll be able to keep his big mouth shut if he gets asked one more time. So he lets himself ramble about another concern, a popular one among those who made it home. Why did they make it? When so many other men, married men, good men, young men, didn’t. He lets Sid talk about it, lets him tell him how he got over it, how he’s still getting over it, until Mary snags him away again.

“C’mon, I can wrangle you up a partner.” Sid tries one last time.

Eugene forces a smile, “No thanks, Sid.” He says. I only want one dance partner.

When he’s alone again, he lets his composure slip. He feels the tears pricking behind his eyes as his mind slips back to the train. Why didn’t he say goodbye? Did Eugene not mean as much to him as he did to Eugene? He knows there’s no sense dwelling on it, nothing good will come of it. But the punch, and whatever it’s been spiked with, makes his hurt all the more present.

Eugene tilts his head up, looking at the stars above. He wonders if he is looking up at the same stars too. So far away yet under the same sky. His eyes find a straight line of stars, and just his luck, they angle upwards too. His mouth quirks up a bit at the memory, remembering how his chest filled with adoration when the words fell from his mouth, a signature smirk at his lips, eyes sparkling with mischief. If he closes his eyes, he thinks he can actually hear the son of a bitches voice.

“The hell you doin?”

Eugene’s eyes fly open.

“Standin’ out here when ya could be inside, dancin’ with some broad?”

His head jerks towards the voice and he can’t believe his eyes. There he stands, barely illuminated by the garden lights around him, cropped pants and a dark t-shirt. His hair still an unruly mess of curls and those sea green eyes still glimmer in the dark. Eugene huffs out a breath, his body feels frozen. He wants, so desperately to do so many things. He wants to punch the sly, if slightly nervous, smile off the other mans face but he also wants to take him into his arms and never let the bastard leave again. He does neither, instead opting for speaking, willing his voice to not come out shaky.

“Don’t wanna dance with some broad, Merriell.” He pauses and adds quietly, “You know that.”

Merriell looks down, hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck as he takes a nervous step forward. When he looks back up, the sly smile and mischief are gone, replaced with uncertainty and vulnerability.

“Then who ya wanna dance with?”

Eugene's throat is tight, his fingers shaking as he taps the leftover tobacco out of his pipe and shoving it back in his pocket. He looks backwards at the venue hall, observing the people standing outside and on the balcony. There’s too many of theme, too many prying eyes that wouldn’t understand what they’d see if they looked over. He shakes his head, looking back at the other man before walking towards him. He ignores the flinch that is pulled out of Merriell when Eugene grabs onto his wrist, tugging him away from the lights and sounds and prying eyes.

“We can’t do this here.” He hisses.

He doesn’t know where he’s taking him. He just knows they have to go somewhere no one else is. They have to be alone. He wants to scream at Merriell, just wants to know why but he also whats the other man to know how much it hurt to wake up without him. He knows they’re going to draw attention, no matter what ends up happening. So he drags Merriell away from civilization, into his stretch of field that he’s come to love since being home. Since he’s discovered it, no one else had come to the spot. He figured this was good enough.

“Jesus Sledge, if I had known you were gonna take me hiking I would’ve stayed in shape.” Merriell says, hunching over to catch his breath when Eugene finally stops.

“You fucking asshole.” Eugene grits out and immediately regrets it when he sees a flash of hurt spread across Merriell’s face.

“‘Gene, I-” Merriell starts but stops just as quickly, “I don’t know what ta say,” he says in a near whisper, avoiding the other man’s hard stare.

“I just-” Eugene paused to swallow the lump his throat, willing himself not to cry, “I just want to know why.” When Merriell doesn’t say anything he continues, “Why didn’t you wake me up? Do I not deserve a goodbye? Or at least a note? Or, I don’t know Snaf, a fucking explanation of some kind?” He can’t stop his voice from raising.

“Eugene-” Merriell tries but Eugene just keeps talking.

“After all we’d been through. I mean, come on Snaf, the number of times we pulled each other out of the line of fire just in time. And I don’t get a fucking goodbye?” He knows a tear or two have fallen on his cheeks but he doesn’t care, “I guess I just thought I meant more to you than that.”

“You do!” Merriell finally shouts before Eugene can start up again, “I didn’t say goodbye ‘cause I couldn’t, okay? You mean so damn much to me Eugene, I couldn’t give you a goodbye ‘cause it would have meant never seeing ya again.” He stops, swallows, and his next words are uttered so softly, Eugene barely hears them, “It hurt too much to say goodbye, so I jus’ didn’t say anythin’ at all.”

They stare at each other, fists clenched at their sides and breathing heavily. It’s gotta be about midnight now, Eugene figures. The moon is high above them, casting plenty of light into the open field. Eugene almost wishes there was no light at all, that way he wouldn’t be able to see the guilt on the other mans face.

The silence is finally broken by a broken sigh from Merriell, “I’m sorry, ‘Gene. Ya don’t deserve this, I should go-”

Eugene panics. He can’t let him go away again. And he certainly can’t watch this time. He does the only thing he can think of. He reaches out, wraps his fingers around a bony wrist, pulls the other man to his chest and kisses him,

The momentum of Eugene’s pull makes their teeth clash, they come together too hard but somehow, it’s still perfect. Eugene revels in the feeling of having Merriell’s lips against his own again for the first time in months. For the first time in months, he feels like everything could be okay again.

He feels a hand fist in his suit jacket, no doubt wrinkling the fabric. A sound of relief escapes Merriell’s throat and Eugene finds his hands cupping at his face as they kiss desperately. When they finally pull away from each other, their breathing heavily, foreheads pressed against one another. Eugene plays with the curls at the back of Merriell’s head, a small smile gracing his lips. His eyes open and he finds himself lost at sea, he thinks to himself he wouldn’t mind drowning there.

“So ‘Gene, who ya wanna dance with?” Merriell asks softly, a slight teasing edge to his voice and lips curled in a soft smile.

“I only wanna dance with you, Merriell.”

The admission frees what feels like a thousand pounds off of Eugene's chest. He finds the other man grinning so wide he almost looks crazy before he pulls Eugene down into another kiss.

“Y’know,” Merriell gets out in between kisses, “I don’t think Mobile is gonna be too forgiving of our situation.”

“So we leave,” Eugene says, as if it’s the simplest thing, to just pack up and leave everything he’s ever known outside of the war, “we’ll go wherever we’re most welcome.”

Merriell bites his lip thoughtfully, searching Eugene's eyes for any sign of reluctance. When he finds none, he nods frantically, “I’ll go anywhere with you, boo.”

When the Sledge household wakes up the next day, all they find in Eugene’s wake is a note and an empty dresser. Eugene spent the whole war hiding who he was, and he’ll be damned if he’s gonna continue living that way. Especially since everything he ever could have dreamed is back by his side.