middlingmay

[middlingmay]

last line tag <3

tagged by @middlingmay thank u my love. here's a snippet of a short one shot i started writing yesterday.

John smoothed the shirt, his shirt, down, adjusting the collar, brushing away the strands of hair that had fallen into Gale’s eyes.

“There,” he murmured. “Better?”

Gale exhaled a slow breath, barely above a whisper. “Yeah.”

John tucked the blankets back around him, securing the warmth again. “All done,” he murmured, his voice light, teasing. “Didn’t think you’d get embarrassed over something like this.”

Gale huffed softly, looking away. “I wasn’t embarrassed,”

John smirked, unable to help himself. “No?”

Gale sighed, rubbing at his eyes. "they’re just big.”

John raised a brow. “I am bigger than you.”

Gale gave him a look, tired but pointed. “Not that much bigger.”

John chuckled, low and warm. Loving Gale's annoyed tone.

“No, but big enough.” He reached out, adjusting the collar of the shirt again. “You look good in them.”

Gale's face turned pink immediately.

John saw it happen, warmth creeping up from his neck to the tips of his ears. John definitely wasn’t teasing him now but he was still deeply, helplessly endeared by him.

Gale cleared his throat, shifting slightly. “They smell like you.”

John swallowed, his voice coming softer this time, fingers lingering by the shirt's collar, tracing Gale's collarbone “That bother you?”

Gale hesitated.

Then, slowly, shook his head.

"I like it"

“Good,” John murmured. Throat feeling a little too dry.

i should rlly continue w my other wips instead of starting new ones 😭 i was just rlly inspired.

tagging (no pressure) @majorbuckyegan @alienoresimagines and @onyxsboxes if they want!

[middlingmay]

okay major gale “i ain’t a gambling man” cleven but letting lemmons ride your wheel to get your fourth engine going. his “believe. BELIeve” to benny maybe he’s more like his father than he thinks

[middlingmay]

snippet from my wild west clegan AU to prove i am actually writing it and want to post it instead of getting halfway thru and then letting it rot in my docs forever like 95% of my writing. yay

very unedited pls be nice

 John returned with his saddlebags around noon, sweating from the high sun and smelling suspiciously like a saloon. Gale met him on the porch, Alf keeping an eye on him, and led him up the stairs. The second floor of the house was all wood stained with fake color, making the cheap oak look like something richer, wallpaper and more oil lamps than they ever used. Gale showed John to the third bedroom, simple and dusty. John heaved his bags onto the bed and tossed his hat on the low table nearby and Gale found himself standing and staring, unable to move while John ran his fingers through his short, loose curls.

 Why had John lied to Gale’s father for him? All they had under their belt together was one day and a stock association meeting. Gale tucked his hand under his opposite elbow, thumbed at his bottom lip. “You ain’t have to cover for me like that,” he said.

 John didn’t look at him. Sat on the edge of the bed and took his boots off. “What really happened? I was across the room and all of the sudden the guy was on the ground and everyone was talking about that Cleven boy.”

There was a little smile on John’s face. Gale couldn’t tell if it was patronizing or not. John took his horsehair brush from a saddlebag, started in on his boots.

 The fact of the matter was, the guy had called Gale a sodomite, right there in the crowded dance hall. Name was Henry, if Gale recalled. He’d known him vaguely since they were small and he was one of the few people in town who remembered the rumors that had gone around about a fifteen year old Gale, back in the day. But John didn’t need to know that.

“Didn’t like the way he was talking to me.”

 John laughed, bright and sincere. “I take it you’ve got a reputation.”

“I don’t know,” Gale lied, “I don’t listen to town gossip.”

“Hey, I respect a fighting man.” John buffed at his boot, all strong forearms and firm grip. Gale swallowed. John looked up. “Just take it easy on me, alright?”

 Friendly again. They didn't need to be friends. “Don’t give me a reason not to.”

 Finally, John seemed to be deterred somehow, see that Gale wasn’t here to get to know him, and scoffed. “Alright, cowboy.”

[middlingmay]

I was told once about people who's social battery actually gets charged socialising with other people instead of drained. I believe these people are a myth. No on can feel energised by this.

[middlingmay]

Last Line Tag

Thanks @joeyalohadream @wwasted @amiserableseriesofevents and @soliloquy-dawn for the tags. Your snippets!

I was trying so hard to resist posting another TODCL snippet before the chapter goes up, but I have been nose deep in patient letters today and need a palate cleanser.

Brady looked Ken up and down. “Look at that. You really are a mauve.” “Kenny, are you fucking kidding me right now? Judy? You’ve been seeing Judy?” John’s voice rang from the next room, getting closer. “Is that Judy’s date?” Curt stared at Ken with mischief in his eyes and his chin in his hand. “It sure is.” Benny jerked, moved, like he wanted to step out in front of Kenny, maybe hide him from view for a few seconds longer and delay the inevitable. But Brady stopped him with two fingers against his chest and a shake of his head. “Are you dumb?” John had taken off his leather at some point. He was wearing short sleeves tonight, one of his smaller shirts that showed off the breadth of him. And whilst the curling heat in Gale’s belly knew it was for him, he didn't doubt that John enjoyed its added benefit of aiding any little ploy of intimidation he’d hoped to aim at Judy’s date. “Kenny?” John’s brow furrowed and he tilted his head on the question. “What are you doing here? You need a ride or something?” Bucky, Gale knew, had a talent for being obtuse on purpose when he wanted to be; a way of wriggling out of dealing with something he didn’t want to. And he was tapping the wells of that talent now. They all knew damn well why Kenny was here. But to his credit, Kenny didn’t balk. “I’m here to pick up Judy.” He waved the clear box containing the corsage around. “For the dance.”

No pressure tagging @rambleonwaywardson @faegoddessog and @heretoobsessstuff :)

[middlingmay]

Last Line Tag

Thank you for the tag @weimarweekly (here's some 🎄crumbs for you).

Ya'll, the next chapter is done(I'm pretty sure I'm satisfied with it)! But AO3 is down and I need to edit before I post so, barring any crazy complications, chapter four will be posted tomorrow!

Here's a little snippet though.

----

Baily is sitting on the rail, the perfect place to judge. He’s got Douglas as dry as he can get him with the towel and Virginia impatiently pawing at the door when Blue comes round the corner, pausing at the bottom of the steps to shake the excess water out of her newly white-again coat.

John grabs a fresh towel from the stack he’d brought out and opens it wide, beckons Blue up the stairs and gets to work on her next. She sits patiently, always a show-off compared to her little siblings, and lets him work, seeming to enjoy the attention.

Boots crunching on gravel a few minutes later has his head raising and his eyes widen as he takes in the impromptu dog groomer.

“Oh, Gale,” he winces. “What’d they do to you?”

The other man’s light-washed jeans are soaking wet, splattered with mud. His coat looks much the same, water and mud spray up the front. His sleeves are wet at the cuff of his wrists. His hair is a mess, like he hasn’t been able to run a hand through it like he constantly does.

“I told ‘em not to shake until I was through,” Gale tells him, hands coiling the hose back up as he walks. “They don’t listen.”

John tries to fight the smile but can’t. He drags the towel over Blue one more time as Gale makes his way slowly up the steps.

“Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’d never,” John smiles, shooing Blue away and standing with another clean towel spread out. “Your turn.”

“I’m not a dog, John.”

“No, but I bet you’ve got a killer set of puppy-dog eyes on you,” John says, eyes tracking Gale’s slow climb up the stairs, one hand on the railing, one around the hose. He moves forward and takes the hose out of his hand, lays it on top of the box behind him. “C’mere.”

Gale steps into his arms and John wraps the towel around his back, lets his hands run up and down his arms and back. Warm breath fans out against his neck as Gale lets his head rest on his shoulder for a moment. John can feel him leaning awkwardly, trying to keep his wet clothes from touching John’s.

“Tomorrow morning, I’m taking woods chips down to cover that mud,” Gale murmurs into his neck. “I’m not doing this again.”

Johns chuckles into his hair. “I can help with that.”

Cold lips press to his throat and it send goosebumps scattering across his skin.

Gale’s shivering in his arms, trembling slightly and John pulls aways, but keeps an arm around his shoulders. “Let’s get you inside, huh? You’re freezing.”

“’M’okay,” Gale says, but he’s already moving, shuffling to the door. “Bailey, come on girl.”

The cat jumps down and weaves between their feet and through the damp dog legs to sit at the crack of the door.

“She get’s to go in first cause she’s the only one who listens to me,” Gale tells the dogs, opening the door just enough for Bailey’s tiny body to fit through. John watches Gale glare at the three of them one more time before opening the door wide enough for them to fit through. “Stay off my couch.”

----

No pressure whatsoever tagging @swifty-fox , @middlingmay @amiserableseriesofevents and @onyxsboxes

[middlingmay]

"I'm still not used to being taken care of" - Clegan

Little summary: (I realised part way through writing I'd made this a modern!AU) Poor Gale is sick, Bucky is diligently looking after him.

Word count: 945

“I've got you a hot water bottle, tea, and various snacks so you can choose.”

Bucky gestured to each item as he listed them:  passing the hot water bottle to Gale so he could cradle it in his arms, placing the mug of tea on the bedside table, and unloading an armful of a range of snacks around the mug.

“Is there anything else I can get you, sweetheart?” Bucky asked softly, standing back hands on his hips as he surveyed the scene. Gale was sick, and therefore in low spirits. Bucky couldn't have that.

The poor blonde had come down with a nasty cold. It had properly knocked him around, sapping his energy and settling in his head and chest. Bucky had been diligently giving Gale cold meds on a strict schedule. They didn't seem to be working though.

Even now, after two rounds of meds today, Gale was breathing through his mouth instead of his nose. The decongestants were useless, and each sniffle just seemed to increase the pressure in Gale's head. The aspirin was supposed to take care of his headache, but it hadn't even made a dent. Gale felt wretched, and he was struggling with it. He had lost autonomy over himself, needing help for even the most basic things. In the past he'd always just soldiered on the best he could. Now though he had Bucky, who seemed more than keen to be his personal nurse.

When Gale didn't answer him, Bucky asked a further question.

“Still can't breathe?” Bucky asked, kneeling down next to their bed where Gale was slumped against the headboard. 

“No.” Gale replied, although it sounded very nasal as his nose was so blocked. The word “no” was nearly unintelligible.

“Poor baby.” Bucky pushed back hair that had stuck to Gale's forehead, earning a small blush from him. “Do you want me to run you a bath? The hot water may help. And I'm sure we've got some essential oils somewhere.”

Gale nodded gratefully, too embarrassed to say another word with his voice so mangled.

“Ok.” Bucky smiled fondly, “You just drink your tea and I'll come and get you when it's done.”

Gale had managed to drink the whole mug, it thankfully soothing his raw throat, before Bucky returned. He came back a little flushed, presumably from the hot steam. 

“All ready for you, Buck.” Bucky announced proudly. “And I did find some essential oils. We've got one with eucalyptus, so I've put a bit of that into the water.”

“Thank you.” Gale rasped. 

He was helped to the bathroom, and helped to remove his clothes. 

“May I join?” Bucky asked, for once no hint of anything else. Just an honest question. 

“Of course. I want you to.”

Bucky let Gale climb in first, holding his hand and arm graciously to steady him. Gale closed his eyes as he let the heat of the bath envelope him. Bucky clambered in after, long limbs folding up as he sat opposite Gale. 

Within a minute of Gale being in the water, he could feel the pressure in his sinuses begin to shift. He sniffled thickly, successfully holding back a sneeze. The tissue box was still by the bed, and even if he reached for some toilet paper it would go mushy in his wet hands.

“You ok? Is the water helping?” Bucky's hands found Gale's calves, rubbing soothing circles.

“It's helping.” Gale affirmed, but he was unable to look Bucky in the eye. He was so thankful, but he didn't know how to articulate it. The care Bucky had given him over the past few days… it was like nothing he'd ever experienced before.

“Good.” Bucky smiled, before his normal wide grin fell. “But is everything else ok? Apart from how sick you are?”

“I…” Gale trailed off, pausing for a moment as if what he was about to say physically pained him. “I’m still not used to being taken care of.” 

“Oh babydoll.” 

Bucky's resolve shattered, along with his heart. He crowded into Gale's space, throwing long arms around the smaller man's torso to hold him impossibly close. Water sloshed over the sides of the tub onto the tiles. Bucky could feel Gale let out a stuttered breath, the kind that was followed by a sob. Bucky squeezed tighter. No sob came. 

“Buck, baby…” Bucky cooed, continuing his gentle words as he manoeuvred Gale almost into his lap. He didn’t settle until Gale’s warm back was pressed against his large chest. With a content sigh Gale relaxed into Bucky's safe hold. Bucky used this as permission to trace the line of Gale's left shoulder with his lips, kissing the skin with light feathery presses. Gale shivered, and for the first time in two days it wasn't from his cold.

“I love you, Buck. And that means I will always take care of you. I want to take care of you. You deserve the world, Gale. And I will do everything I can to give it to you.”

This brought the sob out of Gale. It was an uncharacteristically ugly sound, one of pure emotion. Bucky's heart clenched, but he knew he could do nothing more other than continue to hold this darling angel in his arms, and continue to give him sweet reassurances.

“You mean everything to me, Gale Cleven. Everything. I love you.”

More sobs, but these were lighter. As if Gale was smiling through them. 

“I love you too, John.” Was all Gale could get out. Between his cold and his emotions, that was all he could comfortably manage. 

But that was all they both needed at the moment. Sweet words and soft touches. 

Anna's MOTA Feveruary 2025

[middlingmay]

I have been so inactive. I promise I'm still here. Once this next week or two are done with, it's over for you bunches.

[middlingmay]

Hi,

It’s your friendly neighbor fanfic author here. In the light of this apparent new trend of people feeding unfinished fics to AI to get an “ending,” and some people even talking about “blanket permissions,” let me just say this:

I EXPLICITLY FORBID ANYONE TO FEED MY FICS TO AI. DUDE, THAT IS ABOUT THE LEAST RESPECTFUL THING YOU CAN DO. IF YOU DO IT, SHALL YOU BE EXCOMMUNICATED FROM YOUR FANDOM AND WALK ON LEGOS BAREFOOT TILL THE END OF DAYS.

That is my anti-permission.

Thank you for your attention.

[middlingmay]

THE MENTALIST APPRECIATION WEEK 2025

10 years ago, on February 18, 2015, the finale of The Mentalist aired! To celebrate the 10th anniversary and show some love for our beloved show, @tmsource is excited to host an appreciation week with daily prompts from @profwonderbearthementalista. The event will run from Wednesday, February 12 - Tuesday, February 18! To participate, share your creations using the tag #tmfinale10.

DAY 1 (2/12) - Season 1 or Favorite Character DAY 2 (2/13) - Season 2 or Favorite Ship DAY 3 (2/14) - Season 3 or Favorite Episode or Season DAY 4 (2/15) - Season 4 or Favorite Location or Prop DAY 5 (2/16) - Season 5 or Favorite Platonic Relationship DAY 6 (2/17) - Season 6 or Favorite Arc or Guest Star DAY 7 (2/18) - Season 7 or Finale or Free Choice

If you have any questions, please feel free to ask. We look forward to celebrating with you and can't wait to see what you create!

[middlingmay]

🆓: ... Free space - add your own what if...? scenario about episode 3

What if Gale made it to Algeria but wounded?

I got inspired to write a little drabble for this one! This is the first thing I've written in months (is my writer's block finally over?🤞) so I hope you enjoy it! Kind of an abrupt ending, but I promised myself I'd keep it relatively short lol. Drabble under the cut!

Word count: 1153

When the wheels of his fort touch down on Algerian soil, the first thing Gale feels is a flood of relief, despite being several yards from the runway, in a beat up fort made of what seems like more bullet holes than metal, all engines feathered, one of his crew killed, and far too many others lost on the way. At the very least, they made it. 

The second thing he registers is the dull ache in his right side, just below his ribcage. He’d felt the initial impact, certain and painful, when they were flying through heavy enemy fire some hours ago. 

Yet in the chaos of the moment, it seemed his copilot hadn’t noticed his wince of pain accompanied by a sharp intake of breath. So, he’d elected to keep it that way, allowing the initial excruciating pain to fade to a low thrum in the background as they continued with the mission. His crew was already shaken enough as it was. No reason to add insult to injury by informing them their pilot had been hit.

Now, safely on the ground in Algeria, he knows he should probably tell someone. But time seems to swim confusingly in the haze of a post-mission adrenaline crash, and before he knows it, Bucky and Jack are there and his crew is pulling the remains of Norman Smith, their trusted radio operator, out of the wrecked fort, so Gale shoves the injury out of his mind once more to take care of his crew.

Besides, he figures, it can’t be that bad if he’s made it this far.

~~~

As they get the men settled with bedrolls and water and whatever food they can scrounge up, considering their less than warm welcome in Algeria, Bucky basks in the relief that Gale is really there, on the ground, alive. He thought he knew nerves, but nothing could compare to the feeling of watching Gale’s beat up fort from his faux position as ‘reserve command pilot’, unable to do anything except hope against all odds that they would both make it to their destination.

Bucky can’t help but notice that the other man looks paler than normal, can’t help but notice the way his hands shake as he helps set up their makeshift camp. It’s understandable, Bucky supposes, after using every ounce of his willpower to keep his fort in the sky, then finally, finally touching down safely by nothing but the skin of his teeth. The comedown from something like that isn’t easy.

So, he chalks it up to that. Until moments later, that is, when sudden, frantic shouting comes while his back is turned. He whips his head up from where he was neatly unfurling a bedroll, his senses shocked when he finds Gale collapsed on his knees in the sand a few feet away from him.

Bucky abandons the bedroll, rushing forward. He drops to his own knees in front of Gale, hands latching onto Gale’s forearms while his eyes frantically search his face. Somehow, he looks even paler now. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Gale’s eyes are slow to find his. When they do, they’re pinched with a deep pain that Bucky can’t believe he didn’t notice before. Still, Gale shakes his head weakly. “’M fine.”

They have an audience, which Bucky knows isn’t helping Gale to tell him anything, stubborn and unflappable as he is. Or rather, as he would like to appear. Reluctantly, Bucky tears his eyes from the other man’s to glance around at the rest of the men. “Make yourselves busy, will you?”

Mercifully, they get the hint, dispersing in all directions away from the pair of them, busying themselves with getting settled in once more. Bucky’s gaze returns to Gale’s face with even greater urgency. “C’mon, Buck. What’s going on?”

It’s then that Gale presses a gentle hand to his right side, wincing even at the slightest pressure. There’s a tear there in his flight suit, accompanied by a spot of blood, which Bucky had naively assumed was someone else’s or just a minor scrape like the littering of small cuts now marring the other man’s face. 

“Think I’m hit,” Gale finally admits reluctantly, low and under his breath. 

Bucky clenches his jaw, inhales sharply through his nose, and forces himself not to panic. “You stubborn bastard. Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

Gale shrugs. His eyes appear cloudy with fatigue or dizziness, Bucky can’t quite tell. When he speaks, his voice comes out sounding weak. “Had things to do. A mission to complete.”

John stares at him in a mixture of concern and disbelief for a moment before spurring himself into action. Pushing Gale’s jacket off his shoulders and beginning to undo the straps of his flight suit in hopes of getting a good look at his wound, Bucky admonishes in frustration, “The mission was complete the second you landed that fort against all odds, and you know it. You should’ve told me right then.”

“Didn’t want to cause a fuss. I’m fine.”

“You are not fine,” Bucky disagrees sharply, but then softens. He could have lost Gale today. Still could, really, depending on how badly he’s hurt. If they both make it back to Thorpe Abbotts safely after this, then he’ll give the other man an earful about taking better care of himself. But for now, harsh words aren’t going to make Gale feel any better. “It’s my job to fuss over you. So just let me do my job, okay?”

Gale sighs, accepting, then nods. He glances around to see if anyone else is keeping an eye on them. Then, apparently satisfied when they’re not, allows himself to slump forward against the broad warmth of Bucky’s chest with a quiet grunt of pain.

It’s not helping Bucky get him out of his flight gear any faster, but it feels so good to have Gale close after the day's events that he allows it, just for a moment. He strokes a hand down Gale’s back, ducking his head to murmur into his ear, for the two of them only, “I’ve got you, doll. You’re gonna be just fine.”

Once Gale hums in acknowledgement, Bucky reluctantly pushes him back to continue his efforts. He’s afraid of the injury he might find underneath the layers of clothing, but forces himself to keep his attitude light and optimistic on Gale’s behalf.

“Never thought I’d be taking your clothes off surrounded by all of our men,” Bucky teases quietly as he pushes the top Gale’s flight suit down to bunch around his waist, hoping to brighten the mood.

It seems to work briefly, with Gale letting out a surprised, albeit weak chuckle. But then the movement seems to pain him, and he winces. “Don’t make me laugh.”

“Alright, alright,” Bucky quickly sobers, worry flooding his veins. “Let me take a look. We’ll have you all patched up in no time, promise.”

[middlingmay]

hiiii 🥰, any thoughts about 👨‍👦: ... Gale had a good relationship with his dad?

What if prompts here

If Gale had a good relationship with his dad, I think he’d be a more open person than he is in canon. He’d show more of his emotions outwardly. His "freak" would come out unprompted more often, he’d be Bucky's accomplice in all sorts of shenanigans.

He has an affinity for sports, so if his dad's behaviour didn’t make him hate them, he’d love them. He and Bucky would compete all the time and talk about sports scores. Oh, and he’d probably drink with Bucky too. He’d participate in risky bets with him.

Here's a glimpse of this Gale:

I think he’d be like this all the time. Less bold and cocky than Bucky, but more exuberant than his usual canon self.

How would this have changed the story?

Here, he would've laughed out loud, earning himself a foul look from the barkeep:

In the pub with the Brits, he would have drunk something alcoholic as well and he wouldn’t have held his tongue through the entire conversation. He would've said something sooner, probably something sharp, and he wouldn’t have let Curt fight instead of him. He would have enjoyed getting his knuckles bruised fighting the RAF guy.

In episode 4, he would've agreed to go to London with Bucky and they would've had a threesome with Paulina would've "painted the town red". Which means Gale wouldn’t have gone down on the Bremen mission, and they wouldn’t have been there for the Münster mission either. So, they either would've made it to 25 (and then signed up again like Rosie because they're crazy) or they would've been shot down on another mission.

In the stalag, I think Gale would've handled the circumstances worse than in canon and might have agreed to try escaping with Bucky. Possibly resulting in both of them dying or Bucky dying to save him. Gale might have ended up back in Thorpe Abbotts, only Bucky's lucky deuce (and possibly his sheepskin) left to him. He would've let his tears fall looking over the things in his locker.

[middlingmay]

👨🏼‍🤝‍👨🏻: ... Buck and Bucky only met for the first time at Thorpe Abbotts

Oooh I can’t ficlet this today because my brain is not braining 😭 Buuut this would change SO MUCH in my mind 😱 Rambling thoughts below that probably make zero sense because I’ve only had one cup of coffee and I’m writing this to procrastinate working 🤣

Send me one of these what if prompts and I’ll give you my rambling nonsense for MOTA’s 1st birthday 🎁

It’s said that The Buckies’ relationship/friendship, whatever, was the heart of the 100th so imagine how discordant they’d be as a group if that wasn’t an established foundation for them??? Like, everyone would still be amazing pilots and passionate but would they be so cohesive and ride or die if they didn’t have the hope/felt sense of safety/protection that came with the brotherhood that was put in place by the time they got to England.

I do still think it’d be on sight for them in a sense but they’d both be such different people going through training and instructing without having the other by their side. I think they both reigned each other in sometimes but also have each other the space to be a little wild. I can’t imagine what kind of men they’d by the time they get to England without that influence.

Maybe in some ways they’d be significantly more reckless. I think they’d both still care deeply for their squadrons/group because that’s just who they are as people. However, would they have the leadership positions they do without the others influence? Idk. Would they have the same level of rabid devotion without the other as one of the driving forces behind it? Idk. I’m kind of leaning towards yes but it would be to a lesser degree and would have looked different.

Not having that established emotional support by the time they got to England??? I hate to say it but I think they might have actually got shot down earlier or died. I also wonder how much worse they would have done in the stalag too without that long established understanding and support.

I’ll stop here for now but I do think the 100th would be at least somewhat less cohesive and dedicated to each other if the Buckies met for the first time in England. I also think that means, as beat up as they got, it’d be worse without that too.

[middlingmay]

🆓: ... Free space - add your own what if...? scenario related to episode 1 or 2

What if Bucky actually told Gale what it was like on a mission??

Thank you, dear, that's such a good one! 🩷

I'm imagining the evening before Gale's first mission. It’s raining, of course, and Bucky’s standing by the door under the roof of their barrack, just watching the base, anxious over what he knows is coming any day now. He startles when Gale walks up behind him, but he doesn’t show it. He makes some kind of joke about enjoying the lovely weather.

Gale leans against the wall beside him, and they share the silence until Gale points out that Bucky is very quiet. Bucky opens his mouth to brush it off with a joke, but he can’t push the words past his lips. Frowning, Gale asks him what's wrong, and Bucky breaks. He can’t keep it to himself any longer.

He tells Gale everything. How, during both of the missions he has flown, he almost went down. He tells Gale about the terror and the helplessness of those missions, and about the losses they've suffered. Gale listens silently, and Bucky can’t look at him, feeling guilty that he’s only telling all this now, that he pretended everything was as they had expected.

When he finishes his story, they lapse into silence again. Eventually, he looks up at Gale, who's staring at the rain somberly.

Gale returns his look and nods. "Thank you for telling me."

Bucky doesn’t know what to say to that, so he just hums. A few more seconds pass, then he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the lucky deuce. When he tries to give it to Gale, Gale doesn’t joke or get exasperated at his superstition. He gives it a long look, takes it, then gives Bucky a look too. Then, he nudges Bucky's elbow with his own, and they both break into smiles. Bucky starts joking about the weather again.

This wouldn’t change much about the first Bremen mission, but it would change Gale's reaction when he comes back. There’s no conflict between him and Bucky and Gale’s less upset. This might result in him agreeing to accompany Bucky and Curt that night. Bucky wouldn’t end up so drunk then, because he’d be able to work out his emotions better with Gale there.

I'm not sure if the effects of this would ripple any further, but I can see Bucky and Gale being even more in tune with each other. Gale would really appreciate the fact that Bucky told him.

[middlingmay]

(X)

[middlingmay]

friend told me the fans would like to see them kiss, so i had to draw gay pilots

[middlingmay]

am i just not using tumblr right or is there a severe lack of curtis biddick content in the mota fandom ??