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Several Sentences Sunday

Thank you @avonne-writes for tagging me 🥰

Here’s a snippet from my Algeria fic where Gale and John detour to a local market

If you’d like a bit context: part one, part two

John paused occasionally to examine fruits, bread, or dried meat, conversing with vendors in a mix of halting French and pantomime. Gale trailed behind, feeling both conspicuous in his uniform and invisible amid the bustling marketplace. The fabric of John's uniform had darkened between his shoulder blades and lower back, the dampness spreading whenever he bent forward or twisted to check their surroundings.

At one stall, an elderly man with a deeply lined face gestured them closer. He spoke rapidly to John, who listened with concentration before replying with what seemed like a question. The old man smiled, revealing several missing teeth, and disappeared into the back of his stall.

"What's happening?" Gale asked.

"He has something special," John replied. "Says it's from the Atlas Mountains. We can trade a chocolate bar and a compass for it."

The old man returned with a small clay pot sealed with wax. He cradled it carefully, removing the cap to reveal the contents, the citrus tang cutting through the air. John extracted something—a slice of lemon wrapped in honey—and handed it to Gale, the sticky sweetness lingering between their fingers. Their hands were filthy, but John had never been one for such concerns. He licked the residue from his index finger, then placed his thumb into his mouth. The knuckle, thick and callused, disappeared between his lips. Gale watched, a strangely satisfying prickliness rising to his collar, into his mouth, as if he could taste the wild honey on his own tongue.

Tagging @shipstorms and @constanthaunt if you wanna!

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Several Sentences Sunday

Thank you @avonne-writes for tagging me 🥰

Here’s a snippet from my Algeria fic where Gale and John detour to a local market

If you’d like a bit context: part one, part two

John paused occasionally to examine fruits, bread, or dried meat, conversing with vendors in a mix of halting French and pantomime. Gale trailed behind, feeling both conspicuous in his uniform and invisible amid the bustling marketplace. The fabric of John's uniform had darkened between his shoulder blades and lower back, the dampness spreading whenever he bent forward or twisted to check their surroundings.

At one stall, an elderly man with a deeply lined face gestured them closer. He spoke rapidly to John, who listened with concentration before replying with what seemed like a question. The old man smiled, revealing several missing teeth, and disappeared into the back of his stall.

"What's happening?" Gale asked.

"He has something special," John replied. "Says it's from the Atlas Mountains. We can trade a chocolate bar and a compass for it."

The old man returned with a small clay pot sealed with wax. He cradled it carefully, removing the cap to reveal the contents, the citrus tang cutting through the air. John extracted something—a slice of lemon wrapped in honey—and handed it to Gale, the sticky sweetness lingering between their fingers. Their hands were filthy, but John had never been one for such concerns. He licked the residue from his index finger, then placed his thumb into his mouth. The knuckle, thick and callused, disappeared between his lips. Gale watched, a strangely satisfying prickliness rising to his collar, into his mouth, as if he could taste the wild honey on his own tongue.

Tagging @shipstorms and @constanthaunt if you wanna!

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I came across this genius post by @ladyeggplant and kinda want to recommend my mostly canon Austin x Callum rpf? Anyway!

If you're looking for a story about them falling in love during the filming of MOTA, exploring how Austin's shutdown after Elvis affects things, and what the voice notes, rib-breaking accident, and pottery class contribute to their relationship, I wanna give you a story called Almost in Love

Or if you're curious about what happens three years after they wrapped MOTA during what they called a "romantic night in," I wrote a fic that explores this event: Simple Things

Enjoy! Would love to hear you guys' thoughts if you read either one!

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The truth of it 🤣

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How's my least problematic trainee? Well, technically, you're all pretty green, but you're growing on me.

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father!

THE PITT (2025-)

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THE PITT -> Similarities between Dr. Trinity Santos and Dr. Frank Langdon

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What is the “young love” clegan AU? 👀

Thank you for your interest in this post! 

It's just a concept I've been developing, loosely inspired by Richard Linklater's Before Trilogy. It follows Gale's and John's paths that intersect at different pivotal moments throughout their lives.

They first met on the Eurostar crossing the English Channel. Despite being strangers with separate destinations, they decide to disembark at London together. If you’d like a (lengthy) snippet:

The Fanta can Bucky pressed against his swollen nose had long since stopped sweating condensation. Gale shifted his weight from one foot to the other, contemplating whether to duck into the dimly lit pub behind them to ask for some ice. The neon sign above the door buzzed intermittently, casting their faces in alternating shadows and sickly red light.

They'd found themselves in this narrow Soho alleyway after abandoning their half-hearted pilgrimage to the London Eye. Neither could justify spending their dwindling funds on what Bucky had called "a glorified carnival ride for tourists." Gale had no real sense of Bucky's financial situation, only that his own wallet contained little more than lint and regret. The bitter irony wasn't lost on him—he'd saved for months, pinching pennies at his part-time job to buy a ticket to Europe, ostensibly to patch things up with Marge. Instead, they'd ended that relationship in a three-minute phone call from Charles de Gaulle airport. Now he faced the grim prospect of being stranded in Wyoming for another year, paying off this impulsive adventure. One bad decision compounding another.

"Don't bother," Bucky said, interrupting Gale's thoughts. He put the soda can away, revealing the purple-blue landscape blooming across his face. "I don't even feel a thing anymore."

It wasn't true. Gale just knew. Learned it the hard way.

"You think I'm trouble," Bucky said, more statement than question.

There was no way to define Bucky within the confines of a single word. Unpredictable. Magnetic. Addictive. Reckless. All applied, yet none captured the fullness of him. Gale couldn't shake the growing suspicion that Bucky might represent yet another catastrophic decision in his increasingly questionable judgment.

Gale reclined against the brick wall, failing to maintain their conversation. Bucky filled the silence, his squashed New York accent standing out sharply against the background of British voices filtering from the pub.

"Let me guess," Bucky continued, tilting his head. "You wish you'd done differently. That call, the train, me—all of it."

Someone pushed through the pub's back door, releasing a gust of stale, cigarette-laden air that rushed over them. Bucky sniffed, dabbing at his nose with the paper napkins from Greggs.

"If you could go back to six hours ago," he asked, "would you still get off the train with me, Buck?"

They'd spent the last hour wandering aimlessly, Bucky's white T-shirt ruined and Gale's conscience weighed by the knowledge that he could have prevented the whole fiasco if he'd just stuck to his original plan. And yet, despite everything, he realized there weren't really alternatives he could imagine choosing. 

Despite barely knowing this stranger with the quick smile and quicker fists, Gale would have said yes all over again.

"Why do you insist on calling me that?" he asked.

"Buck?" Bucky shrugged. "Oh, I don't think you'd care for the other nicknames I have for you." 

He grinned with his battered face. The skin around his left eye crinkled extra, as though attempting to wink but hampered by the swelling around his nasal bridge. There was dried blood crusted on his Cupid's bow. He looked ridiculously handsome, like a movie star after a particularly convincing fight scene.

"Not curious what nicknames I've got for you?"

Gale blinked, suddenly aware of the expectant silence stretching between them. Bucky was watching him intently, waiting for a response, his eyes reflecting the lights overhead. They looked indigo.

"No," Gale lied. "Keep your head forward. You're still bleeding."

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I'll miss borrowing your books just to read the notes in the margins

like come on...

I wanted to be there the day you figured it all out

This song makes me see visions…young love clegan AU…

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What is the “young love” clegan AU? 👀

Thank you for your interest in this post! 

It's just a concept I've been developing, loosely inspired by Richard Linklater's Before Trilogy. It follows Gale's and John's paths that intersect at different pivotal moments throughout their lives.

They first met on the Eurostar crossing the English Channel. Despite being strangers with separate destinations, they decide to disembark at London together. If you’d like a (lengthy) snippet:

The Fanta can Bucky pressed against his swollen nose had long since stopped sweating condensation. Gale shifted his weight from one foot to the other, contemplating whether to duck into the dimly lit pub behind them to ask for some ice. The neon sign above the door buzzed intermittently, casting their faces in alternating shadows and sickly red light.

They'd found themselves in this narrow Soho alleyway after abandoning their half-hearted pilgrimage to the London Eye. Neither could justify spending their dwindling funds on what Bucky had called "a glorified carnival ride for tourists." Gale had no real sense of Bucky's financial situation, only that his own wallet contained little more than lint and regret. The bitter irony wasn't lost on him—he'd saved for months, pinching pennies at his part-time job to buy a ticket to Europe, ostensibly to patch things up with Marge. Instead, they'd ended that relationship in a three-minute phone call from Charles de Gaulle airport. Now he faced the grim prospect of being stranded in Wyoming for another year, paying off this impulsive adventure. One bad decision compounding another.

"Don't bother," Bucky said, interrupting Gale's thoughts. He put the soda can away, revealing the purple-blue landscape blooming across his face. "I don't even feel a thing anymore."

It wasn't true. Gale just knew. Learned it the hard way.

"You think I'm trouble," Bucky said, more statement than question.

There was no way to define Bucky within the confines of a single word. Unpredictable. Magnetic. Addictive. Reckless. All applied, yet none captured the fullness of him. Gale couldn't shake the growing suspicion that Bucky might represent yet another catastrophic decision in his increasingly questionable judgment.

Gale reclined against the brick wall, failing to maintain their conversation. Bucky filled the silence, his squashed New York accent standing out sharply against the background of British voices filtering from the pub.

"Let me guess," Bucky continued, tilting his head. "You wish you'd done differently. That call, the train, me—all of it."

Someone pushed through the pub's back door, releasing a gust of stale, cigarette-laden air that rushed over them. Bucky sniffed, dabbing at his nose with the paper napkins from Greggs.

"If you could go back to six hours ago," he asked, "would you still get off the train with me, Buck?"

They'd spent the last hour wandering aimlessly, Bucky's white T-shirt ruined and Gale's conscience weighed by the knowledge that he could have prevented the whole fiasco if he'd just stuck to his original plan. And yet, despite everything, he realized there weren't really alternatives he could imagine choosing. 

Despite barely knowing this stranger with the quick smile and quicker fists, Gale would have said yes all over again.

"Why do you insist on calling me that?" he asked.

"Buck?" Bucky shrugged. "Oh, I don't think you'd care for the other nicknames I have for you." 

He grinned with his battered face. The skin around his left eye crinkled extra, as though attempting to wink but hampered by the swelling around his nasal bridge. There was dried blood crusted on his Cupid's bow. He looked ridiculously handsome, like a movie star after a particularly convincing fight scene.

"Not curious what nicknames I've got for you?"

Gale blinked, suddenly aware of the expectant silence stretching between them. Bucky was watching him intently, waiting for a response, his eyes reflecting the lights overhead. They looked indigo.

"No," Gale lied. "Keep your head forward. You're still bleeding."

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I wanted to be there the day you figured it all out

This song makes me see visions…young love clegan AU…

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Bucky and Gale meet during Operation Enduring Freedom.

"God," he sighs. "This reminds me of over there." "Being warm and indoors in middle America reminds you of over there?" "You know what I mean," Bucky says. "You and me."

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(more sentences friday)

Tagged by the talented @shipstorms

This is something that happened in Algeria. Part 1

"How about you, Bucky?" Crank asked.

John lay not far away, a novel with dog-eared corners spread across his chest. He shifted, moving the book just enough to squint at the question. "What about what?"

"What's the first thing you're gonna do when we get back?"

John hummed. He draped the book over his face, blocking the sunlight, then cushioned his head on his hands. The position stretched his arms, revealing the dark, damp hollows of his armpits where sweat had collected and dried in wiry hairs. His red fez rested on his chest, a splash of color against the muted browns and tans of the desert. His shoulders looked massive, disproportionate to that absurd small thing. He crooked one leg up, kept others guessing. The heft of his thigh pressed against the worn fabric of his shorts, the exposed inner side showing a patch of skin almost untouched by the sun. Pale. Smooth.

Gale watched, transfixed. John was alive—brutally, achingly alive. The observation pulled his mind back to the man torn in half on their wing, how in that moment it hadn't felt like a man to him. Just a torso. Limbs. A uniform-clad form reduced to its mechanical components.

But John was different. John was flesh and breath and unexpected softness.

No pressure tagging @joeyalohadream, @soft-mama-main and @shipstorms (because, quote Callum, I gotta throw it back baby!)

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(more sentences friday)

Tagged by the talented @shipstorms

This is something that happened in Algeria. Part 1

"What about you, Bucky?" Crank asked.

John lay not far away, a novel with dog-eared corners spread across his chest. He shifted, moving the book just enough to squint at the question. "What about what?"

"What's the first thing you're gonna do when we get back?"

John hummed. He draped the book over his face, blocking the sunlight, then cushioned his head on his hands. The position stretched his arms, revealing the dark, damp hollows of his armpits where sweat had collected and dried in wiry hairs. His red fez rested on his chest, a splash of color against the muted browns and tans of the desert. His shoulders looked massive, disproportionate to that absurd small thing. He crooked one leg up, kept others guessing. The heft of his thigh pressed against the worn fabric of his shorts, the exposed inner side showing a patch of skin almost untouched by the sun. Pale. Smooth.

Gale watched, transfixed. John was alive—brutally, achingly alive. The observation pulled his mind back to the man torn in half on their wing, how in that moment it hadn't felt like a man to him. Just a torso. Limbs. A uniform-clad form reduced to its mechanical components.

But John was different. John was flesh and breath and unexpected softness.

No pressure tagging @joeyalohadream, @soft-mama-main and @shipstorms (because, quote Callum, I gotta throw it back baby!)

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Hi hon! 7 & 8 for the ask game? I’m just greedy for more of your writing 💕 also I hope you feel better today!

I do feel better today! And I think it's pure magic that you show up in my inbox just as I'm having a confidence crisis 🤣 Thank you for providing me a chance to yap about my fics again.

This is for the WIP ask game

7. My favorite scene I’ve written so far

I genuinely like all the scenes in Almost in Love, but the park scene holds special significance for me. It's the moment when Austin realizes he should stop wasting time and go for what he wants—and it's precisely when I felt I'd truly captured the heart of the story.

I may have mentioned before that I went into writing AIL with a specific intention: to write a love story that feels authentic and respectful. I wanted to write about them falling in love and I wanted it to be as believable as possible. I’m writing RPF, yes, but I’d feel bad if I’m just fantasizing about them. I want to respect their personalities and life experiences, and it’ll always be my priority. The park scene became a pivotal moment where I felt I'd answered my core question: could these characters genuinely fall for each other, navigating the complexities of their real lives? It was like solving an impossible emotional equation. 

The story doesn't have a traditional plot—it's just Austin living his life and feeling his surroundings. And my insistence on emotional authenticity probably makes the story feel heavier, less immediately attractive. But it means everything to me that I get to tell this story, that I get to explore these feelings.

I know all the effort probably means nothing because at the end of the day what I do is still technically fantasizing about them. lol But I can’t emphasize enough how I appreciate it when someone reads through and understands what I'm trying to do—when a reader sees beyond the surface and acknowledges the emotional work—it's more than validation. It's like my entire heart just lifts right off the ground.

8. the last scene I’ve written

I actually haven't been around to write much of anything lately… I'm in this whole wrestling match with writer's block right now 🙁 

But here's a genuine offer: if there's any scene or prompt you're curious about or want to read, I'd be more than happy to write it for you. Consider it a thank you ♥️

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I need you to understand that when I say "comments are appreciated!" I mean that I will reply to every one of them. I mean that an email with an ao3 notification has a higher priority than a message from my mother. I mean that I will have entire discussions in the comment section if you're up for it. Message me on tumblr and I will have the same discussions on an even more unhinged level. I will dissect entire personalities and ships and fictional political structures and worldbuilding with you. I will become your new best friend. You already ARE my new best friend. At the last battle, I would raise Anduril and say "For my ao3 readers" while a single tears rolls down my cheek, and dive into the fray. I would upload from beyond the grave if someone asked about the next chapter

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Talk to Me About the WIP I’m Currently Writing

I really wanted an ask game that was going to motivate me towards completing my current chapter and thought I would share.😊 

Give a 5-word summary of this chapter/fic.

Give the first line of this chapter/fic.

Whose your favorite character for this chapter/fic?

Whose is your least favorite character for this chapter/fic?

Are there any OCs in this chapter/fic? Who’s your favorite?

Does this chapter/fic have any twists that you’re proud of?

What is your favorite scene you’ve written so far?

What is the last scene you’ve written?

What is your favorite dialogue you’ve written so far?

What is the last line of dialogue you’ve written?

What scene are you most hyped for this chapter/fic?

What emotions do you expect your readers to feel?

What common trope(s) do you feel are used in this chapter/fic?

What have you been finding frustrating with writing this chapter/fic?

In as vague of terms as possible (to avoid spoiling), how do you anticipate this chapter/fic to end?

Write the next 5 sentences and share.

Share the previous 5 sentences. 

Share the scene you just wrote, written from another character’s POV.

Where does (insert word here) appear in your fic?

Share 3 images that would fit to a mood board for this chapter/fic.

Share 3 songs that would belong on a playlist for this chapter/fic.