average soldier writing letters home: hello mother and father I’m doing fine don’t worry about me I miss you very much could you send me some candy I hope brother and sister are doing well please write back soon love your son
david webster writing letters home: I’m really hungover so I guess I’ll write hey mom and dad I have no idea how I’m still alive the army is so boring I could shoot myself it’s hard to believe in God these days here are some gruesome details about the war isn’t that crazy alright peace - kenyon
look. i don’t think my stretch marks are beautiful. i don’t think they’re tiger stripes or natural tattooos. i don’t think my acne is beautiful. i don’t think the bags under my eyes are beautiful. i just think they’re human. and i don’t think i have to be beautiful all of the time in order to be accepted and loved and sucessful. i don’t think every small detail of my outer appearence needs to be translated into prettiness.
fun fact: this POV is actually called “body neutrality” and it’s SO MUCH more accessible/realistic for a lot of people. it’s based on the idea that the way we look is the least interesting/important thing about who we are, and that our bodies are worthy of respect regardless if they fit the mold of the current beauty ideals.
nothing makes u feel stupid quite like being a writer. out here googling “rooms in a house” to make sure i didn’t forget one of em. blockhead behavior.
Another AO3 thing I’m curious about, how do yall decide if something is good enough to read? Usually I follow a rule of 1 kudos for every 10 hits. One because it’s easy math and two it’s yet to fail me. Thoughts? Do you just go for it and pray it’s good?
People are out there using carefully curated ratios and I'm just clicking every single work in the tag and giving it a go, like a racoon eating trash. If I get to the end, it gets kudos.
it's just math: Gale's slender hands + John's brown curls (+ John's secret praise/pain kink) = a grand ol' sexy time
John didn't even know he liked it until Gale accidentally did it once. Gale was playing with John's hair, cooing about how long it had gotten. John made a quip teasing Gale, and Gale jokingly grabbed a handful of John's hair and pulled it to shut him up. While it did shut John up, it was only because of how shockingly aroused he was by it.
John keeps trying to get Gale to do it again, but Gale somehow has lost interest in his hair. He makes a show of carding his own hands through it to try and entice Gale to pull it again. Gale doesn't take the bait and John is getting antsy again.
They're having sex when John finally snaps. Gale is on top of him, holding in those precious moans while John grinds up into him. His hands are on John's shoulders but his fingers tease the short hairs on the nape of John's neck. John groans deep into Gale's jaw.
"Pull my hair, please Gale, please pull my hair," John begs almost pathetically.
Gale chokes on a moan and works his fingers into John's curls. He tugs harshly, exposing John's neck so Gale can attack it. John whimpers , whimpers for God's sake when Gale's grip gets even harder on his hair. Gale looks down into John's eyes, mouth parted in a sigh.
"God, John, you're so fucking pretty," Gale groans out.
John comes then and there, letting out a prolonged groan and burying his head into Gale's shoulder. With the last of his strength he grinds into Gale, pulling at his cock so that he can finish as well.
They both fall onto the bed afterwards, John sighing contentedly. Gale turns to his side and looks at John with sleepy eyes.
"You know how much I love your hair, John. Have to stop myself from grabbing it every second I can get," He mutters.
"Don't stop," John says. "Pull it as much as you like. It turns me on,"
Gale chuckles and kisses him deeply, pushing his hands gently through John's brown curls.
What if gale was a virgin but not for lack of trying. He only ever tried to have sex with women but it just never felt right for him so he never actually did it. But then he met bucky and suddenly he felt this strong desire for him. So the first time they had sex, gale's mind was blown by how good it was and was ready to go again not long after they were done
Hmm okay, but since I'm a fan of realistically fumbly smut, how about we give it a twist and say:
Bucky thinks he did horribly so he lies on his back, a hand over his eyes, unaware that Gale is grinning at the ceiling beside him.
You see, Bucky had a big mouth and had promised Gale all sorts of debauchery before they even made it to the bed. He kept up the dirty talk until he got Gale naked, then he forgot how to speak.
But, as inexperienced as Gale is, some of the acts Bucky described were only vague ideas in his mind. Bucky, on the other hand, knows them all, as well as how good they feel.
Basically, Bucky got himself so keyed up that he was ready to blow the moment their pants came off.
Consequently, he only managed a few thrusts OR they didn't even make it to penetrative sex before he came. He had never been more embarrassed in his life, but Gale didn’t notice that anything was amiss.
So, here they are now, after Bucky's fail. He risks a glance at Gale and Gale looks at him with joy-bright eyes and a smile.
"That was amazing." He says breathlessly, kisses Bucky again and strokes his chest. "Can we do it again?"
His enthusiasm makes Bucky grin, then laugh, and he rolls them over to bracket Gale's head with his forearms. Gale looks up at him with an open expression, excited. "Can I tell you something wild, doll?" Bucky asks.
Gale looks away to the side, then back to Bucky's eyes. "Is this about what you wanted to do with your tongue? Because I, uh..." He clears his throat. "If you want to do it, I'll let you."
Bucky feels the heat rise to his cheeks and he starts hardening again. "No." He bites his lip in a cheeky smile. "Just wanted to promise you something - and I can say this with confidence. It’s only gonna get better."
When Gale gapes at him, he laughs and kisses Gale on the lips. This promise, Bucky makes sure to keep.
NEW AU IDEA: figure skater gale x hockey player john
just picture this:
Gale Cleven, the once poster boy of figure skating, goes mad when he is all but robbed out of the gold during the last Grand Prix Finals. Now, he's all but unapproachable – practicing long odd hours, not talking to anyone, blasting his songs louder than what was really allowed at the ring...
John Egan, left wing for Winconsin on the college hockey league, had quite the opposite road. With his drinking habits and tendency to say stupid shit, he wasn't really taken seriously when he was first recruited. It wasn't until his third season, when he had proven his value to the team over and over again, that he actually started being viewed as a necessary member. Unfortunately, that meant having to start actually training as much as the rest of them.
So when John gets out of yet another hockey practice at odd hours of the night and there's music blasting from the building next door (when there had never been before), he's inclined to check it out.
Kill of the Night by Gin Wingmore grows louder the moment he enters the place, and there's a few people scattered around the bleachers – but one's talking to each other and not a single one of them notices his presence. They're all looking at the ring, unblinking almost.
dededos
prguitarman
kianamaiart
izzy806
tangentwithtanner
