Cosmic Funnies
styofa doing anything
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TVSTRANGERTHINGS
@theartofmadeline
One Nice Bug Per Day
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AnasAbdin
todays bird
Kiana Khansmith
if i look back, i am lost
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
tannertan36
occasionally subtle
Peter Solarz
Love Begins
Misplaced Lens Cap
tumblr dot com
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
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@middlingmay
My Fics Masterpost
My original works - including All Grown-ups Must Die set in 1960s Scotland.
Masters of the Air (Clegan, CleganMarge, and some gen) - UPDATED 29.11.25
The Mentalist (Lisbon/Jane)
Shameless (US) (Gallavich)
Game of Thrones (Gendrya)
The Witcher (Geralt/Jaskier)
Post TLG Shane and Ilya have to stay with Yuna and David for a few days because the repairs to the cottage weren’t finished by the time the season ended. The first night, Shane tries to initiate sex but Ilya shuts him down. Shane is worried that something is wrong but Ilya is like “You’re too loud, they’ll hear” and Shane spends the next 10 minutes trying to convince Ilya he’ll be quiet (“I’ll be quiet. I’ll suck on your fingers to keep quiet, Ilya.”). Meanwhile, down the hall, Yuna and David are having the exact same argument (“No, David. You’ve been so loud since Shane moved out. The boys will hear.” “…I can’t make noise if you sit on my face.”)
…I Like A Pretty Skirt | E, 14k, 'I'm Just A Girl...' Part 4
They've been hooking up for awhile now but there's something they haven't done yet. Something that Gale craves and thinks this new outfit just might get him.
boob pillow
20 year old Gale x 40 year old John……….i just came everywhere oh you genius
yeah I just think that 20 year old gale seducing 40 year old john for the challenge and john sort of trying to resist but not that hard and he falls flat on his face when he realizes gale isn't just hot and evil but also kind of an admirable intelligent freak with several complexes and he goes from "ahhh oh nooo haha don't seduce meeee" to "I'm going to fuck you into next week" rq
if anyone needs me to elaborate,..
Let's say a year after returning stateside -- after months of Gale finding ways to push the wedding back -- everything falls apart between him and Marge. They part ways amicably enough, but the deterioration of the life he'd envisioned for so long leaves him reeling.
One day, without letting himself think about it, Gale finds himself packing a bag, climbing into his truck and driving hours upon hours to Wisconsin. To Bucky.
He knows he should call ahead but can't bring himself to. Doesn't even know what he'll say when he sees Bucky, much less what he could tell him over a telephone call.
Gale arrives at what he thinks is Bucky's house just before sunset. It's small, but well-tended. Not allowing for hesitation, he walks to the door and knocks brusquely, duffel thrown over his shoulder.
It's a matter of seconds before the door swings open, and Gale flinches back when he sees the man standing inside. A wide grin slowly falls off the man's face, leaving behind something close to shock. Gale thinks their expressions must look about as much alike as the two of them do.
"Buck from Manitowoc, I assume?" Gale finally asks, voice strained.
The man nods, blond hair just a shade lighter than Gale's and eyes a shade darker. "Which would make you Buck from Casper," he says.
Prompt if u write domestic stuff then Gale being really under pressure and stressed like an ongoing long-term situation and Bucky trying to support him the best he can, trying to come up ways to make it easier for his darling baby buck. Could go fluffy and nice, could go more hurt/(no)comfort whatever u feeling
xoxo
Hey lovey. I absolutely do still take prompts but this has been sitting in my inbox forever and I can;t come up with a single writeable idea! I'm fluffy at heart, so here are some thoughts though:
Neither of them are great cooks, but John won;t even ask Gale what he wants when he's stressed out. He'll just make simple, easy food so it's one less thing Gale needs to think about.
If it's work or studies, John tries to put his foot down (lol) and stop Gale from working too late into the night. Gale pulls an all-nighter out of spite.
John. In. Marigolds. Because an untidy home stressed Gale out even more.
Weighted Blanket Bucky. When Gale is too stressed to sleep it's the only thing that knocks him out like a light.
I pretty much see John trying to take care of Gale in a hundred little ways because he's an idiot, but even he knows better than to derail Gale when he's got his mind set on something. So he eases the way rather than trying to get him to change track.
☁️☁️☁️
Just saw that first snippet of it and OMG I need that fic...!
From the Make Me Write game
Hey, so, I can't believe I missed you! But I'm excited for this one too! 🥰 Just Like Heaven is one of my fave comfy movies, and it's really fun taking that concept into a post-war Clegan world <3
A lot of the men who’d returned home had an unspoken understanding: you did what you had to do to survive, and there was no shame in it. But the second Gale had jumped over that wall, knowingly leaving Bucky behind, he’d felt an awful tugging, sharp and digging and wrong in his gut. He took it with him on the run every single day until he was all but shoved onto that final plane from Thorpe Abbotts. And then, when distance had become too much somewhere over that ocean, it broke, breaking something in Gale with it. Something home hadn’t been able to fix. Not even Marge.
In hind of sight, no peace of mind
December 1948 to January 1949, California USA; about unnatural, irrational desires, what it means to be a man, and love. Which is all that we have.
MAYYYY I DIDNT SEE YOU POST FOR THE GAME OMGGG 🚗🚗🚗❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹
From the Make Me Write! game
DUUUCKKYYYYY 🥰💕 Look! I'm writing again!
🚗 That Ol' Devil Called Love part 2 - aka the Buckies get revenge
The bathroom wasn't big and John was. He took the two short strides that stood between him and Gale, and dropped down into his lap. His arms bracketed Gale's head where John clutched the edge of the bathtub. And Gale finally took a deep, shaky breath. "If you want to burn that card he slipped you, it's burned. If you want me to make sure he stays gone, I will. Just say the word, sweetheart. Tell me what you want and I'll do it." He dropped sweet, tiny pecks from the tuft of Gale's hair, down the slope of his forehead and the line of his nose. Gale clutched at the weight of him like it was the only thing keeping him from bolting down the street after the lawyer. Whether to take him up on his offer or to tear him a new asshole, John wasn't sure. But he figured any risk of his lover committing assault and battery against someone who knew the legal system as well as Robert Fucking Rosenthal, apparently, was a bad fucking idea. Gale pulled back, and John watched his eyes flickered back an forth between his own. "Is it wrong?" Gale murmured low, "That I was hoping Jack Kidd would just…turn up one day. Or Benny or Brady or hell, anyone. And they'd tell us it was done. They've got him. We can go home, if we want."
❤️🩹 Marge ruins Bucky’s love life
But. John spent whole evenings riling Gale up until they were arguing over some tiny, long-forgotten detail and Gale never noticed the snow starting to fall outside. He played music that blocked out the sound of the wind. He was a ringer for impressions and would yammer along to Fibber McGee and Jack Benny on the radio until Marge cried. And in the middle of the night, when Marge woke to an empty bed and crept halfway down the stairs, John stacked the fire up high and let the blaze burn away whatever had chased Gale from his place beside her, whilst John himself opted for steady silence for once, sentinel to Gale’s dreams. She’d fallen asleep there, once. Sitting on the stairs, slumped against the balustrade. A gentle shake had snapped her awake, and John and Gale looked down at her. Gale looked equally fond and guilty and she reached out for him, but John deftly intercepted, and a hand on each of their backs, dragged them half-asleep back to their bed. John did manage to sleep in that morning, and Marge even left a place of French toast outside his bedroom door.
More ❤️🩹 pleaseeeeeee
From the Make Me Write! game
Of course!
❤️🩹 Marge ruins Bucky’s love life
“Since when have you been a guest?” “See!” “Pest more like—” “Marge.” Who knew the sweetest sound Marge heard in months would be the childish bickering of two fully grown men, soldiers no less, and squadron leaders at that. And it wasn’t a fluke, neither. It survived the high of John’s arrival and kept steady as days turned into a week and then turned into two. It became the birdsong that woke her in her morning, with Gale and John both unable to switch off military time, still rising with the sun. As she lay there in bed, her husband’s side gone cold, and listened to giggling and clattering from the kitchen, she wondered if she screwed her eyes up real tight and wished the hardest she’d ever wished for anything, if it could stay like this always. She knew it couldn’t. She knew John had his own life and his own command and—they were a married couple for God’s sake, but…
ohh I don't know if this https://www.tumblr.com/middlingmay/815693421063929856/ is one of the emojis/part of what you're looking to write but 👁🫦👁
It isn't, but fuck it 😅 Just for you anon. (This one is on the list with my Mota x Caught Stealing crossover, my Clegan AU of The Mummy, and my Little Shop of Horrors fic. It's coming, but like, not soon...)
After the war, and despite his best efforts to avoid them, John would stumble across accounts of men reminiscing about their time in the camps. Invariably they would all focus on the thing that ‘got them through’—usually a woman. It was always some romantic swill about perfume-scented and kissed letters, the men describing their lady loves as the ‘light in the dark’, that helped their fellas ‘wake from a nightmare’. Firstly, what a total load of shit. It was mercifully lacking in their own hut, but John remembered all too well the crass jeering and leering of men and their buddies drooling over those heartfelt letters. How many of their sweethearts knew their letters had been passed around to keep strange men warm in exchange for a cigarette? Secondly, in John’s own experience, emerging from the numbing despair of impotence and monotony particular to being a prisoner of war was not so gentle or romantic. After Marge’s letter, it came with a jarring and utterly unwelcome jolt of focus and dread. Because there in black and white, Marge had laid it out plain: he'd been wrong about Gale.
ooh ❤️🩹 please! i’m so excited for this one!
For the Make Me Write! game
Thanks Anon 😊 This is great, I hit a wall with this one and need to power through.
❤️🩹 Marge ruins Bucky’s love life
She was right. Thank God she was right. The next morning Gale ate a small breakfast of overcooked eggs, underdone toast and bitter coffee—but he was eating breakfast. Not picking, and not grimacing his way through it to appease Marge, but holding his fork that particular way he always had, like it was a spoon, and shoveling the eggs in his mouth between laughing at John groaning his way through the early morning. He even rapped John's knuckles with the back of his fork as he tried to pilfer Gale's toast. “Get your own, jackass.” John reeled back and shot wide eyes to Marge, and gestured to her husband with one paw as she fought off a smile. “You hear how he treats your guest, Margie?” Gale scoffed and John grinned, leaned close and thrust a finger right into Gale’s sternum. “So rude, Major.”
🫵 YOU. STOP WHERE YOU ARE
say something nice about prev!!! find something cool about them!! give their blog a skim!!
compliments are FREE TO GIVE so GIVE THEM OUT. pls. thamnk. (◍•ᴗ•◍)
☁️
From the Make Me Write! game
Ooh my first ask for this fic 😊, thanks!
☁️ How Gale Cleven got a ghost! Or, the post-war Just Like Heaven AU
Gale had waited. As long as they would let him. As soon as they’d told him there was no further use for him at Thorpe Abbotts, he should have been itching to climb into the first bird they’d give him and fly back to Marge as fast as he could. But until John was back on Allied soil to sit on his right and run through the pre-flights and leave this whole sorry Continent behind--until they were ready to close this chapter together just like how they opened it--Gale was going nowhere. “That’s an order, Major.” Colonel Cruver, a stranger who couldn’t possibly have known the 100th despite being it’s Commanding Officer, and who’d never known Bucky, didn’t much care for Gale’s stubbornness, though. Gale give himself a solid few seconds, before he let himself reply. “Sir, I—" “No one else is coming, Cleven.” Cruver reminded him a little of Kidd. He was a lean, no-nonsense, serious man. But Kidd would never tell him Bucky wasn’t coming. Had told him the opposite infact, when he;d landed back on base. He’d thrust John’s awful direty shearling at him and said, “When you see him, tell Bucky I want my jacket back.” “Orders are that any men rescued from the camps are being sent directly back home. If your friend’s coming, you won’t find him here.” If. Everyone in service at one point or another throughout this fuckin’ war had wanted to pop their superior officer a good one. But for the first time, Gale was overcome with the urge to throw himself across the desk at the cold, impassive, clinical face across from him and snap and snarl until it capitulated, and bowed to his rage, his fear. Until it knew, like every single other person knew, Buck didn’t go anywhere without Bucky. Except. He had. And that was the whole trouble.
❤️🩹 ❤️🩹 ❤️🩹!!!
- @elleviral
From the Make Me Write! game - keep the asks coming!
A popular choice @elleviral, here you go!
❤️🩹 Marge ruins Bucky’s love life
Unashamed even with her husband right there, John opened his arms and Marge didn’t think twice about stepping into the space only just vacated by Gale. John did what he always did swept her up until the tips of her toes left the ground before setting her down. He smelled as he always did, of smoke and sweat and something sweet Gale had told her once was from the cigarettes he preferred. And he even looked much as he always did: hair almost contained but not quite; smile crooked; eyes narrowed and crinkled in joy; eyes twinkling with mischief even though he was less than five minutes in the door. But his grip was stronger. He struggled to keep his eyes off Gale as much as Gale did him. And whilst he was still a substantial physical presence, Marge’s keen eye could see he’d gotten skinnier. Winter wasn’t any kinder in Wisconsin, it seemed. Marge wanted to kick herself for not inviting him sooner. But he was here now, and hopefully that awful hurtin’ thing in him and Gale both would settle now they could see each other with their own eyes.
OMG I didn’t know this was an option??🚗🚗🚗
From the Make Me Write! game
Oh, but it is! Though, let me be clear, this will be a oneshot this time! 😅 I'm not going through that again...
🚗 That Ol' Devil Called Love part 2 - aka the Buckies get revenge
Gale would hate it if he ever found out how much John could read from the tells all over his face: his jaw, his eyes, his temple. John could speak their language. And right now, with Gale squirreled away in the bathroom, ass flat on the floor and his back up against the bathtub, the translation wasn't exactly difficult. Gale licked his teeth, the wet flash of tongue for once not sending a bolt of heat down John's spine. "He gone?" John leaned against the doorway, arms folded over his chest. "He's gone." Gale let his head drop with a thunk against the tub. John felt the crease fold between his brows even as he fought to keep his face neutral, but fuck. John hadn't been known for neutrality a day in his life. But he could try. For Gale, and about this, he'd fucking try. "How the hell did he find us, Bucky?" John puffed his cheeks up with air and shoved the air from his lungs, trying to evict the bad feeling that was slowly burrowing under his skin. "I dunno, Buck. He's a lawyer. Wiley fucks, ain't they. Finding folks is their job."
