oopsiedaisiesbaby

[oopsiedaisiesbaby]

They would for sure be shocked at everyone's shock because John doesn't understand how everyone doesn't view Gale as the ideal alpha the way he does?

Yes! It’s just so obvious to him 🤷‍♀️ He wants to now what everyone’s smoking 😂

[oopsiedaisiesbaby]

HC that designation is impossible to determine outside of heat/rut so everyone assumes Gale is the omega based on stereotypes and then John goes into heat.

Yesss 😍 I am beyond here for it 👏 👏 👏

I can’t decide if they would be smug at everyone’s shock or shocked at everyone’s shock because they thought it was obvious 🤔

[oopsiedaisiesbaby]

Billy holding down Steve while eating him out 👀

John holding Gale down while eating him out👀👀

ROSIE HOLDING GALE DOWN WHILE JOHN EATS HIM OUT 👀👀👀👀👀

Correct on all accounts 👏 👏 👏

[oopsiedaisiesbaby]

OMG imagine billy mentioning that he could eat Steve out and Robin snorts And says "that control freak? Youd have to hold him down to get him to stay still enough" and Billy says "that's not a problem for me" and now Steve is burning red

Steve’s seen those biceps and forearms up close and personal in the weight room… he knows what Billy’s capable of 😏😜

[oopsiedaisiesbaby]

ALWAYS BE YOUR SUGAR

Chapter 1 - House of Jealous Lovers

I guess I'm doing this. Clegan, the indie sleaze years without indie sleaze antics. With playlist!

Williamsburg, Summer 2002. The first summer after the City changed forever. Like every story about New York City, this is a story about real estate, gentrification, art, and commerce. And a love letter to a City that we can never go back to and an uninterrupted view of a Manhattan skyline that we'll never see again. Like any story I tell, it's also one about nightlife, dancing, food, and interiors.

[oopsiedaisiesbaby]

My crack idea. Robin, Billy, and Steve sitting around while the Billy tries to explain what he does to girls and how they like it ( Robin is intrigued and horrified that anyone would want a man touching them) but then they're both swapping tips on the best way to pleasure a woman and Steve is a little uncomfortable and confused and maybe a little turned on? Maybe he wants to be Billy's girl? Treated like Billy's girl? Definitely something to put away and for sure not think about at night

Steve figuring out his sexuality because he wants to romanced by Billy who is shockingly (to Steve) romantic but also getting eaten out sounds like a hell of a time and he might be down to clown… as bros 👀😏 I support it 🙌

[oopsiedaisiesbaby]

Right now MOTA is my primary fandom. Do you have any recommendations for others with either similar vibes or are just fun to be a part of?

-🧜🏼

I hate to say it, but I have no idea 😬 The only other fandom I actively interact with anyone in is Stranger Things and I keep to just my people for reasons 😅 I don’t interact much outside of reading/commenting on fic but the Top Gun and SAS Rogue Heroes people seem lovely from the few interactions I have had!

[oopsiedaisiesbaby]

Billy and Steve are now banned from game nights

[oopsiedaisiesbaby]

What fandom/fic/idea got you into abo?

I genuinely do not remember 😅 It would’ve been like 15+ years ago that I read whatever fic converted me to the dark side lol I actually don’t even remember what fandom it would’ve been either… supernatural maybe?🤔🤷‍♀️

[oopsiedaisiesbaby]

Clegan definitely have a "John/Gale" is sweaty kink

Correct 👏 👏 👏 They are sniffing armpits, lapping up every drop that pools in collar bones, hip divots, and behind the knees, going absolutely feral any time the other comes in from outside on a hot day or finishes a workout 💁‍♀️

[oopsiedaisiesbaby]

Eddie loves a missionary.

[oopsiedaisiesbaby]

What would ‘King of Romantic Gestures’ John get Gale for his 30th? 🤔 #iobatw

(Obviously inspired by a certain bougie watch campaign)

ok this is where i admit i have a freakish hatred of watches and despise having to look at them. they make your wrists uneven. i hate them so much. just wear a fucking pocket watch!!! john would not get gale a watch for his 30th birthday ok he’d take him to montana so they could go camping in big sky country and use a tin can to serenade him. gale is very charmed

then gale would show john how he used to go survival hunting as a kid, pulls out a bone hook he made from the upper jaw of a deer skull and john would be like “i love you baby but what the fuck”

[oopsiedaisiesbaby]

God I really need clegan nasty, sweaty, filthy sex today

[oopsiedaisiesbaby]

Seven(ish) Sentences Friday ✨️

Ty for the tag @optimisticflicker <3 (I haven't written any clegan in foreverrrr but here's something from my new paddyeoin fic!)

Eoin eventually sighs, his fingers lightly trailing along the length of his spine where his arm is around him, “I'm scared, Paddy.” He whispers, “I thought I'd made my peace with it, but.. I don't want to die. I don't want you to die.”

He swallows thickly, trying his best not to acknowledge what he's sure is the feeling of his heart breaking, “I know.” He says softly. There's no point in trying to reassure Eoin that everything will be fine, and that the jump will go as planned. There’s a real possibility that they will die tonight, and he knows that they both know that.

Still, as of right now, they don't have to think about that.

Right now, they're together. They're holding each other. That's the only thing that matters to him, and it's something that he'll hold onto for the rest of his life, no matter what happens after tonight. Still, he can't help but hold out hope that maybe everything will be okay.

So, he closes his eyes as he presses his forehead against Eoin's, a faint smile pulling at his lips at how Eoin gently rubs their noses together, “We'll always have this, no matter what happens tonight. You understand me?” He says, leaning back just far enough to look Eoin in the eye as he speaks.

Eoin just nods, and for the first time in a very long time, he looks his age; a mere twenty years old. He looks unbearably young, and he looks scared. It's enough to make him wish that he hadn't fucked up their chances of going to Burma.

“If by some miracle we survive this whole thing, I'm going to take you back to Ireland.” He murmurs, “We'll go to fucking.. Connemara, somewhere far away, and we can get ourselves a little house out by the ocean.”

Tagging: @hogans-heroes @swifty-fox @moghraidhs @oopsiedaisiesbaby @ecoustsaintmein @leftoversl1ce @flurgburgler (my sasrh mutuals I'm tagging you guys from @eoinmcgonigall lmao)

[oopsiedaisiesbaby]

Harringgrove fucking while during a minimum wage job: yes

Harringgrove who are not together and don't even like each other that much fucking during a minimum wage job because they hate their boss and there's nothing else to do: absolutely fuck yes

EXACTLY 👏👏👏 I just know this can fit into this meme template somehow but I’m too tired to brain today lol

[oopsiedaisiesbaby]

you've got this strange effect on me (and i like it)

part two

more Buck/Bucky agent vs. assassin AU, heavily and blatantly inspired by Killing Eve

8k words | knifeplay, dubcon, bloodplay, references to canonical character death and other killings

read on ao3 (preview below)

Gale has never had a problem with confinement. On the Rio job, where they’d set up what Curt had referred to as a honey trap and hadn’t even caught the bear, he had been fitted for a Kevlar vest.

“Hate these fuckin’ things, feel like they’re squeezin’ the life outta me,” Curt had griped as he strapped Gale in, and Gale had just hummed in response, because the truth was he didn’t mind it at all.

This tolerance is likely why he doesn’t thrash or yell when he’s woken at an unreal hour by a solid weight on his abdomen. It’s likely why his pulse skips a little, and his gut jerks like it’s been hooked, but he doesn’t do anything outwardly except roll his shoulders when he realizes his wrists are tied to the head of his bed. The lamp on his nightstand has been flicked on, dim yellow glow that has never been much of a reading light, but Gale can still identify that his right wrist is secured by one of his own ties. Binding the left is a blue scarf that he’s never seen before. The weight on his stomach is a two-hundred-plus-pound man.

“Morning, gorgeous,” the Major says.

“Get off me,” Gale grunts.

“Get you off? Slow down, baby. I’m not that type of girl.” He’s grinning over Gale, fanged and rapt from where he sits, a little hunched and knees bracketing Gale’s sides. Through the lingering fuzz of sleep, the first tangible question that Gale grasps onto is whether Bucky took his shoes off before getting on the bed. There’s music playing through the room, something slow and sweeping and in French, and on this occasion, Bucky is the one wearing a suit: navy, glistening subtly like an oil slick in the lamplight. Looks expensive. Gale huffs through his teeth.

“What d’you want?” He flexes his wrists and rolls his shoulders once more, the restraints creaking and hissing as punctuation to the question. They’re secure, without a doubt, but Gale should probably still be trying to loosen them and wriggle his way free. He keeps inert as he can, though, breathing deliberately and measuredly into his diaphragm despite the heavy bass-drum throb of his pulse—adrenaline, sick edge to it putting a shudder in his stomach—because, as he himself announced in their team meeting that afternoon, the Major has been underground for weeks. For all that they’ve been scouring every possible nook and cranny, for all they’ve been scraping for whispers of hits (for whispers of potential targets for hits, even), for all Gale has been making a point of being at home every night and going to bed later and later, they’ve had nothing to show for it. A tenebrous part of Gale’s brain had started to chant that the Major was dead, and so looking up at him now, a cool compress of relief soothes some of the complicated heat at the back of Gale’s neck: the Major isn’t dead, and so Gale can still kill him himself.

“I feel like our last date didn’t have the romance I’d intended. Wanted to make it up to you.”

Gale narrows his eyes, twisting his wrists to force the fabric to groan in a pointed action. “You been hidin’?” he throws out, and it’s exactly the accusation he means it to be.

“Why, did you miss me?”

“Like a stone in my shoe.” Impervious to the way Gale spits this like a snarl, Bucky laughs, rich and delighted. “We got your prints now, you know. My knife. Shoulda worn gloves, John Egan.”

He just shrugs. “John Egan’s officially dead. I’ve had a lotta names, baby.”

keep reading on ao3

[oopsiedaisiesbaby]

a little party never hurt no one

Chapters: 5/?

Fandom: Masters of the Air (TV 2024)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Gale "Buck" Cleven/John Clarence "Bucky" Egan, John D. Brady/Bernard "Benny" DeMarco

Characters: Gale "Buck" Cleven, John Clarence "Bucky" Egan, Bernard "Benny" DeMarco, Robert "Rosie" Rosenthal, John D. Brady, Everett Ernest Blakely, Curtis Biddick, John B. "Jack" Kidd, Alexander Jefferson (1921-2022), Richard "Dickie" Snyder

Additional Tags: frat boy AU, Fluff, Getting Together, Love at First Sight, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, other characters to be added - Freeform, Rating May Change

Summary:

Obviously.

Like it was just a foregone conclusion. Guaranteed. The hope spreading through Gale’s chest was dangerous but addictive.

Gale always liked to chase danger when given the opportunity.

Read on AO3