#AU New York

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Dog Meshi.

[darkdreamtheorist]

Joan’s Parck: Laugh of Leisure (Sling_Set Sep.8.93 AC)

Plot: Haida’s Walking Wild after a spill in Benton-Night’s supply room leaves him on fours recuperating at his aunt’s place while her pet Taz Tony tries to throttle him out of top bunk.

I’ll admit to being a touch guilty for this whole episode. Ida known to get the paperclips before heading to the 3rd FL w/a cart full o’ stationery & snacks if Haida hadn’t freeclimbed the supply rack. I just assumed a feral animal broke in to the building!

Just as I heard pained howls from the 2nd FL closet, Haida was nowhere in that abyss ‘til I saw those ashy paws step in to the light w/a gnarled snout frothing and baring craggly teeth, eyes gleaming bright and furious as if I invaded its quarry. I pounced onto some boxes as I slam the door shut with my hind paw, hiding from the feral scavenger. Thanks to Tom & Jerry cartoons, I trapped that bastard! It’s amazing what a cat-and-mouse show can inspire survival tactics from an unused mop bucket and your own tail. Thank The Ol’Man I have a tail for all trades. Good Job,Slink! :3

Wasn’t after turning on the lights back on do I finally see Haida, completely nude and on fours, whining how he got the tin pail on him. I told him my sorries assuming he was a beastie in the building. No prob on his count as he hands me the box of clips on my pawlm. Just as he stood back on his hind legs to redress and we were heading back to work tho, a shooting pain erupted from behind, each step ached him to his core then back on fours once more. The lit closet showed his clothes on the floor, shoes and socks too, but why?

Ashamed, Haida confessed he clambered onto the rack barefoot getting those clips for me. Slipped out his footwear before climbing for a firmer grip on the iron tower. When he got that box on the fourth shelf, tho, he fell down on his back, just as the rack lurched towards him and a mess of hard office supplies slid down punting his lower back, then the lumbar. When he came to, his wild side musta kicked in and ripped his clothes off clean, made the closet his territory, killing anyone who would go near him.

“That rack was already unstable”, I tell him. “One leg from the set was shorter than the others, made it real top-heavy; the exceeding weight could topple the whole kitten caboodle if some dingus tried grabbing something from the upper racks like you did. There’s a reason we called it Mt. Kilamandril. The monkey that sent it conked out 14 business days after assembly. We didn’t know about the stumpy leg til after Ms. Frisk requisitioned a step ladder to the inventory so we could safely reach the upper shelves”. As I mention our HR supervisor, he was screwed. “I can’t let Aunty Mo see me like this”, he whimpered as he trodded around with an anxious smirk, chuckling in angst, tears rolling down his face. “She sees me naked on fours, she’ll knock my spots off! I’m already reprimanded for scratching my ear with my foot, I don’t want to trod back to the zoo like a common animal when I’m fired!”

He’s not wrong. Walking Wild, in New Gaean parlance, was against Benton-Night’s code of conduct. Any act of instinct or indecdency would cost you your career; you either lived like a human or stay in the woods. I was given an exception for not wearing shoes to work since my sensitive hind paws make it hard to wear heels like my twin aunt Jane, and I can use Slink as a cane when I don’t have Gene’s Spectra-Goggles for my hazy jade eyes, but while browsing the Benton-Night handbook under the Humane Resource Policies, I found a Natural Zoning policy that allowed one spot to be designated as a rec room for our animalistic sides. It was enlisted back in the early ‘70s when workers demanded these hourly breaks to “tame their inner beasts”, a means to curb hostility towards prey and predators for max cooperation, work ethics and workload ouput. Most of our staff are a mix breed of Barban and Narnian, coming from either the zoo, the adjacent park, or living in a Barban or Mobian household as a pet thru adoption licenses. Slap a halved Circene patch on their nape or chest and we’re working class citizens. Narnians would need an ID collar or chip to even get a job, much less walk around on fours in society or be pets, or carry a license to prove their condition for benefits like housing and federal aid. Some, like Ernest the Stimpyesque beaver, are Toons, hybrids born from a Mobian mating with a Narnian or Barban, their offspring come out with five digits or a non-talking animal, sad really.

In any case, I couldn’t stand seeing my coworker break down in such an undignified state. As a first year Intern under HR supervision and acting therapist for the entire Benton-Night Distributing staff, I took a vow to keep the working animal calm, cool and collected to carry on their duties, whether by talking out their pains or taking in the methods my late therapist Dr. Lau Fing implemented on me by speaking to their inner child or letting loose their beastly behavior. I just wish I didn’t have to rub his belly to calm him down offering treats if he was a good boy like aunt Jane does to her adopted daughters Rena and Fico. Embarrassing, I know. Not as awkward as seeing our red-blazened supervisor tap her heeled foot over the mess he made. He tried to stand and get his clothes back on, but his back pain was firmly established. And while she doesn’t want the rest of our staff to wild out, with Haida, she strips down and shifts to a feral stance, nipping his nape to hold him down as we head to HR. She called Dr. Shale for a house call back at the zoo’s Hyena Habitat, requesting her nephew take an off-day from work.

I was in the break room, perched like a lion on a rock, bummed I sent Haida off work I break down the moment with the current occupants partaking in their unnatural habits au naturale: Ned the squirrel opening acorns with his feet by the sink, Ernie the beaver rubbing his weird Stimpy body all over the carpeted floor, and Nora Pinoir, a papillion whose full name I already know, acting as her pet self Princess Piddle, complete with a fancy rosé rhinestone collar, marbled bowls full of mineral water and fancy wet food.

Next day, I carted my lasso-tailed ass to his aunt’s place in the habitat, and lend my best paw to help comfort my crippled coworker.

I’m thankful with some first aide from head of HR and his aunt Moira Frisk, her witchy but caring brown hyena mother Great Aunt Melia, his cousins Wiley and Marcia, and Melia’s husband/pet Pete and his son Jeik Thunderpaw. We also has a surprise visit from the hyena trio from the outskirts of the Pride Lands, Shenzi, Banzai & Ed, and other in-laws they could invite for Step-Tember at the zoo. (species in hyena habitat: 3 spotted, 1 brown, and a mutant striped hyena that’s more a giant Fluppy dog mix of Barkley, Runt & Ushio’s Tora demon w/ two bearcats). […]

[kray-zay]

designs for a Transformers horror AU thing I was working on but shelved for the time being to work on my other main tf au project.

Thought I just shared these freaks without context. rest of the art and writing for this project prob not gonna be posted until/if I start working on it again.

Bonus little dude, he a part of a diagram explaining some lore but it doesn't make a ton of sense without knowing other lore from this AU I haven't shared.

[noyzinerd]

Sterek Rival Lawyers AU

It's A (Court) Date

Imagine, high-class, Ivy League, hot-shot, attorney Derek comes back from New York to the family firm to take over as partners with his sister after his parents decide to step down. He may not be on the level of his mother yet, but he's cut his teeth against Wall Street wolves and ruthless white-collar sharks. Derek's more than proved himself, so he just can't fathom these small criminal court cases his family is making him take "before he's truly ready" to be a part of the family business.

Enter in his first case. Right out the gate, the state assigned defense is, not only late to court, but also arrives in a flurry of limbs and papers, tripping all over himself, and profusely apologizing to the room as a whole. "Sorry! Sorry! Car trouble!"

The guy is out of breath, tie crooked and hair a mess. It makes Derek wrinkle his nose at the unprofessionalism and the blatant disrespect to everyone's valuable time.

The presiding judge, the Honorable Ms. Lydia Martin, only sighs a heavy sigh, as if this sight is nothing new, and says "Mr. Stilinski, I suggest you don't let it happen again."

Derek is honestly getting annoyed by how easy this is going to be. He could've been doing literally anything else right about now rather than being here going against a common rent-a-lawyer with some Podunk community-college degree. The opening statement for the defense is laughably inept. Full of nervous stuttering, backtracking, running tangents, and babbling. He's still apologizing, trying to assure the jury that he's just having an off-day today.

It's embarrassing to watch.

Nonetheless, Derek goes through the motions, practiced and poised. Examines all the evidence, presenting times and dates, prior arrest records, the works.

During this time, Mr. Stilinski is frantically (and VERY LOUDLY) flitting through a cartoonishly large stack of papers and whispering to his client. Derek has to fight to grit his teeth through his presentation.

Finally, it's time for Mr. Stilinski to cross-examine Derek's client and, unbeknownst to him, the beginning of Derek's long, long spiral of madness for the rest of his career.

"Judge Martin, I would like to move to have this case thrown out."

"Oh?" asks Judge Martin. For some reason, there's an amused smirk, almost fond, tugging at her lips "On what grounds?"

A giddy, almost manic, grin takes over the defense attorney's face just then. "On the grounds that the prosecution's client is full of bullshit."

The judge rolls her eyes and an exasperated "Stiles," slips from her lips, seemingly against her will. (Derek's not really surprised by the familiarity between the two of them. With how often state-assigned lawyers are called to the courtroom on small cases, it wouldn't be too big of a leap to suggest they might be chummy.)

"Respectfully, of course." Mr. Stilinski--er Stiles?--winks back at her.

"Objection. Your honor, this is ridiculous."

"Overruled. Make your point, Stilinski."

"Mr. Davis says he saw my client at 12:30 P.M., on August 4th, attempting to take his back-right hubcap outside his apartment. Mr. Davis' apartment complex at that time, on that particular day, would have cast a huge shadow over the back lot as evidenced by the gaudy sundial-art-installation outside the courthouse. Meanwhile, my client's picture, when taken in for questioning, has a sunburn on the entire right side of his face. This would corroborate Mr. Lyle's story of walking home alone, down the upper, unshaded side of Elmore Street, during one of the hottest days of the year, for an hour straight. Also, the fact that Mr. Davis has no realistic idea how long it would actually take a person to steal a hubcap should be evidence enough."

"Uh-huh. And this wouldn't happen to be something you've ever had any expertise in, would it, counsel?"

"I plead the 5th."

And just like that, Derek's case is thrown out so quick, he's still reeling about it all the way home.

For the next two years, this becomes Derek's life. This man, this Stiles Stilinski, keeps showing up like a whirlwind and absolutely puts him in his paces.

Stiles, as he insists Derek call him, is a powerhouse. Relentless and unstoppable. That mouth can filibuster for literal hours (which, for those unfamiliar, is when someone legally cannot be forced to give up their time on the floor as long as they can keep talking), that brain quick as a whip, with a hunger for research, a mastery of the English language svelte enough to trip up even the most well-rehearsed lie, and an attention to detail like nothing Derek has ever witnessed before. It's like he knows every law inside and out. Lives it. Breathes it. It's like he had been raised on the law his whole life. Not only that, it's like Stiles enjoys it. Every case is a new game to get excited about.

All of it makes Derek's blood boil.

However, it's not always about losing to Stiles all the time, because, honestly, that might be less humiliating.

In truth, when faced against Stiles, Derek's bound to win about 60% of the time. Out of that 60%, only 5% of those wins actually feel earned. As for the other 55%?

He knows Stiles is letting him win.

Derek can't prove it, but he knows the asshole is holding back on purpose nearly half the time. Knowing that Stiles could have beaten him if he wanted to, but didn't, is somehow more frustrating than just losing.

He hates Stiles.

He hates that the guy is so chipper and playful all the damn time. He hates that Stiles could probably work at any firm he wanted, could make enough money to get a decent car that doesn't shit out all the time, could buy a proper-fitting suit, but instead CHOOSES to stay here "watching out for the little guy", as he so put it.

He hates that facing Stiles in court is the most challenged, the most motivated he's ever felt in his entire life. He hates that Stiles brings out in him the spark of passion and drive Derek had long thought had died. He hates that Stiles always tries to banter with him during recess or whenever they have to exchange evidence.

He hates finding out that Stiles only loses cases on purpose when his endless amounts of research points to the defendant actually being guilty of horrendous crimes, because Stiles is a good fucking person.

He hates Stiles' constant teasing and he hates that Stiles is somehow able to bring Derek down to his childish level to tease back. He hates how much he looks forward to court-dates with Stiles now. He hates being invited out by Stiles over and over to grab a bite together after a long day, as if Stiles hasn't been wiping the floor with him on this case for the last month. He hates it even more that he always accepts and that now they have their own designated booth at the diner across the street. Derek's so unbelievably frustrated, it makes him want to bite Stiles at the neck just to hear that smartass mouth squeal.

"Hey, I ever tell you I was thinking of quitting before you arrived?" Stiles asks one night as they're walking to their cars.

Derek's head immediately snaps to him at that. "What?"

Stiles smiles distantly at the thought. "Oh, yeah. Things had started feeling like being trapped in a cubicle, y'know? There wasn't any challenge in it anymore."

"What made you stay?"

"Well...you did. You were the first, serious competition I'd faced in a while. It wasn't a matter of winning just to win, anymore. Going against you always reminded me of the reason why it was important for me to win. It gave me stakes, because now there was an actual chance I could lose and an innocent person could go to jail. You, I don't know, kinda reignited my passion for fighting the good fight, I guess."

Derek can feel his heart thumping hard in his chest. He wants to say 'You did the same for me!' He wants to tell Stiles that he didn't think his life could ever be this fun or happy or messy or chaotic or exhilarating or challenging or fulfilling before coming to Beacon Hills.

But just as Derek goes to open his mouth to sing Stiles' praises, he instead finds himself roughly shoving him up against the Camaro and biting hungrily at that mouth and tongue that's been the bane of his existence. There's a surprised little squeak that Derek quickly swallows up, but it isn't long before they're both tearing at each others' clothes and fucking each other dirty in the backseat of Derek's car.

What's crazy is, after they get together, nothing in their careers really changes. The only difference is now they get to fuck each others' brains out after an intense battle in court (and the sound Stiles makes when Derek bites him is exactly what he always imagined it would sound like). They still face against each other on opposite sides in court. They still give it everything they got, no conceding even if they are dating now. Not to mention, Derek wouldn't dream of tempting Stiles over to his firm. Not when he knows Stiles is at his best staying where he's at.

The day Derek's family finally decides it's time for him to take over the firm with Laura is the best day of his and Stiles' lives.

Not only does Derek tell them he's declining, he hires Stiles as his attorney to negotiate terms against his entire family of well-seasoned lawyers.

The entire month-long negotiation results in Derek, not saying a single word, but absolutely beaming as he watches his boyfriend run circles around his mother, his father, his uncle, and both of his sisters on contracts. It's so unbelievably hot, they're banging on whatever flat surface they can get their hands on every time they leave the boardroom. There's even one very memorable blowjob in the empty hall outside the boardroom when Stiles somehow manages to get Peter to agree to a (most likely illegal) clause dictating the firm will pay Stiles a finder's fee for any pro-bono case Stiles takes on outside of Beacon Hills that strikes his fancy.

And, no one says it, but they all know Derek definitely, 100%, dragged his own firm through this negotiation just to show off how incredible Stiles is to his family and preen about it.

--

Fast-forward, Derek is going to be in the audience for the first time for one of Stiles' cases.

While waiting in the hall, Derek sees a familiar face from his New York days. The prosecution has hired the eighth best lawyer money can get, Jackson Whittemore. He's sporting a Rolex, sunglasses indoors, and the face of someone who thinks he's above literally every other person in town.

Well, at least until he sees Derek.

For some reason, Jackson seems to think Derek is all the way out in the middle of nowhere to 'watch a master at work' (which...well...is technically true...).

As Derek goes to sit in the audience, Jackson tells him in passing, "This'll be over so fast, probably won't even get a chance to learn the other guy's name."

Derek chuckles and says back, "Ooh, buddy, you have no idea."

Before Jackson can think more on that, a whirlwind of limbs and papers suddenly hurls through the doors.

Derek sits back, gets comfy, and waits eagerly for the show to begin.

My first moodboard. Hope you enjoy. AU based on a discussion with @casually-eat-my-soul (I suggest checking out their version). This was kind of like a divergence from that (the brain juices just started flowing).

[jellyskink]

New York Isn't Weird Enough (PG2)

Teeth is the Thompson of the henchmaniacs

[coramatus]

Emmet’s Earth fans were… certainly a creative bunch! They sure liked their wacky AUs!

But on the plus side, they weren’t half as insane as fans from his world. The RPF from his world tended to escalate into weirdness very quickly.

Month of Emmet: Day 17 — Alternate Universe/Crossover

[porcelainvino]

chicago au :3

[skippyin]

I’ve been playing a lot of Mario lately, so I wanted to draw my favorite character from the franchise.

I love Bowser Jr. I love him so much. He’s so cute.

Also with the movie coming out soon I had a goofy ass idea of Junior getting lost in New York. Y’know, since Mario and Luigi are from Brooklyn. 

He got into an argument with Bowser and ran away from home. He decided to dive down a Warp Pipe to hide from some Minions that were sent to search for him and wound up in Mario and Luigi’s Hometown. WHOOPS!!

He gets a pet raccoon called Minion while he’s there.

Get him OUTTA THERE. 

[lacysum]

yeah okay I'm back and I'm back on my newsies bs

tumblr sees pulitzer and his fruity ass chair pose first

[kitweewoos]

oh my god they were teammates

Buck didn’t know what the hell was up with the Fury that night, but if he took one more elbow to the throat, he was about to throw off his gloves and start a brawl in the middle of the ice regardless of how many penalties were held against him. He didn’t want to get another power play against them though, so he kept his gloves on and his stick down and he played as clean as he could. When he was tripped by the Fury defensemen without a ref whistle, again, and bit his tongue hard enough that he tasted blood, he wanted to rage. 

“Calm down,” Eddie Diaz, his best friend on and off the ice, said as he pushed himself up and growled under his breath. “Don’t let them get in your head.” 

“Too late,” he admitted. 

“Shake it off, Buck,” Eddie called as Buck skated away from him towards the puck still in motion. There was a reason Maddie had pointed all of his extra energy growing up towards skating and hockey, and he was good at it, because for the longest time all of the extra energy meant that he was ready to fight the first person who looked at him wrong, or throw himself into the worst situations. Once he’d gotten into hockey, there wasn’t anything else that fit him better, and he’d worked so hard to get to the NHL.  

Of course, flying off the handle and cracking your opponent in the face repeatedly with your stick would get you, probably, kicked out of the NHL so he should calm down, but he just wanted to bowl them the length of the ice by their face plates instead.  

The Fury sent the puck flying back towards the Firefly goal to get it away from their own, but it went wide thankfully, and Buck breezed back towards it to retrieve it. He was easily one of the quickest of the ice, so he rarely stayed in one spot long, and he liked dropping back by the goal just for a second. 

“Hey,” he heard from their goaltender, and he looked up to catch Tommy Kinard’s eyes through the grating on Tommy’s helmet. Tommy, who he’d share a room with that night, who he shared a life with, who he loved and admired, and he smiled. Tommy looked so good in his pads, even though the incredible body that he worked for was swallowed up, and Buck loved to look at him. Tommy was the first man he’d found this kind of peace with, the first person in the world who had ever caught Buck’s attention and held it so well that the rest of the world just stopped mattering. “Evan, you good?” 

“They’re pissing me off,” he admitted as he circled behind the goal to take the puck and face the rest of the ice for a moment. He took in the scene in front of him to assess the situation, and figure out where to shoot the puck, who would be the best to get it into position and found Ravi sliding unnoticed by two of their d-men. 

“Baby,” Tommy called just off to his left, and he looked up. “Kick their ass.” 

That was all he needed to feel the resolve settle in his chest. They may trail by two near the end of the second period, with the Fury playing dirty, but Evan “Buck” Buckley had his boyfriend to impress, and he absolutely was going to show off.  

[paulkariyas]

↪ 05/09/2024 ― post-game ; scp round 2 ( rangers vs. canes )

[sugakookie78]

Ballgame (Instagram AU)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Pictures are from Instagram, Tumblr, and Pinterest

@/charles_leclerc Thank you for having me @/yankees and allowing me to throw out the first pitch

Tagged @/yankees

Liked by @/Y/N.Y/L, @/yankees, and 217,385 others

Y/N.Y/L I'm stealing that jersey at some point

charles_leclerc It's all yours

user1 Baseball x F1

user2 I'm so happy!

yankees Threw a dart. Good luck at your next race

Liked by @/charles_leclerc, and @/Y/N.Y/L

@/Y/N.Y/L Start spreadin' the news

Tagged @/charles_leclerc, @/yankees

Liked by @/charles_leclerc, @/yankees, and 46,921 others

charles_leclerc I'm leavin' today

Y/N.Y/L I want to be a part of it

user1 Charles is becoming a Yankees fan

user2 I wish I was there to see this!

yankees Hope you had a great time!

Liked by @/Y/N.Y/L

[fungh0u1]

seriously stupid but i do feel that its true. sorry this is like my version of drawing an anime girl drinking a modelo or something

[jellyskink]

New York Isn't Weird Enough (PG3)

Ford DESPERATELY needs to be re-socialized. Even before canon divergence, he was around, at most, one other human for years. It’s only gotten worse since

[dearstvckyx]

𝖲𝖧𝖤𝖲 𝖶𝖧𝖮𝖲 𝖲𝖨𝖲𝖳𝖤𝖱? - 𝖬𝖱𝟩𝟥 (𝗁𝗎𝗀𝗁𝖾𝗌!𝗈𝖼) 2/?

liked by trevorzegras nicohischier edwards.73 and others

lilyhughes babes first time in monaco 🏎️ 🇲🇨

view all comments

trevorzegras going to f1 without me 😔

╰ jackhughes the betrayal fr

╰ lilyhughes shut up 😒

mclaren the dress tho

╰ lilyhughes for the best team 🧡

╰ scuderiaferrari the hurt

╰ astonmartinf1 the only hughes that doesn’t support us 😔

╰ lilyhughes i love all teams equally 🫶🏻

alleyrempe does he even know what f1 is?

╰ lilyhughes no.

╰ user8 ALLEY WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

╰ alleyrempe user8 i wasn’t here

user10 is.. this who i think it is?

╰ user1 if im thinking what im thinking, yes

╰ user15 based on alleys comment, maybe

-

hughes siblings gc

-

matt/lily chat

-

few weeks later

liked by rachaelleannekarempe zibanejad93 colecaufield and others

lilyhughes my #73 7ft canadian❤️🤍💙

view all comments

user5 HUH?! I MEAN CUTE BUT HUH?!

alleyrempe finallly, guessing you finally told your brothers

╰ lilyhughes unfortunately

jackhughes Z FCKING KNEW

╰ trevorzegras yup 😁

╰ jackhughes 😐….

╰ lhughes_06 😑

╰ lilyhughes RUN TREVOR RUN

╰ trevorzegras 🏃🏻‍♂️💨

_quinnhughes happy for you but idc if he’s 7ft, ill kll him if he hurts you

╰ edwards.73 ☝🏼

╰ colecaufield ☝🏼

╰ trevorzegras ☝🏼

╰ luca.fantilli ☝🏼

╰ rutgermcgroarty ☝🏼

╰ kandre.miller he’s my teammate but ☝🏼

╰ alleyrempe he’s my brother but ☝🏼

show 36 more replies

user16 the fact all the hockey boys are saying they’ll kick matts ass if he hurts her 😭

╰ user20 AND HIS OWN TEAMMATES 💀

╰ user3 AND HIS SISTER 😭

lhughes_06 instagram? unfollow. phone number? blocked.

╰ lilyhughes DON’T YOU MAKE A FAMILY GUY REFERENCE AT ME WARREN

[johnslittlespoon]

Thinking about the exquisite imagery of Bucky shaving his mustache, while in contrast Buck let’s his scruff grow in. I can see it so clearly: Bucky shaves the ‘stach when they’re in the POW camp as a result of losing a bet (it’s highly probable he lost of purpose because he wants to give the men an opportunity to laugh it up). But it totally goes sideways once it becomes clear how young he looks without it. Buck on the other hand is stressing over this new change enough to forget to shave for a few weeks straight. Is this brain rot due to me thinking about Callum’s look in the Green Room combined with Austin’s look in the Bikeriders? Yes. Please send help.

in case anyone needs a lovely visual! (ʘ‿ʘ✿)

okay, while i PERSONALLY am in love with bucky's stache and feel like shaving it even in fiction would be an absolute travesty, i see the vision and i agree, i could totally see something like that happening.

john does it as a joke/for a bet and figures that hey, they're all gonna be stuck in the camp for a while anyway, chances are it'll grow back by the time it really matters. no big deal, and it gets laughs in a place where those are increasingly rare, even if he has to suffer through relentless teasing about his baby face for a few weeks.

gale does not deal with it nearly as well, however; it throws off any routine he's built and it feels ridiculous because it's just facial hair but it's such a big change after the monotony of day–to–day behind the fence that it's enough to rattle his brain. and letting his own facial hair grow out probably isn't even a conscious choice, almost like a mindless way of falling back into sync with john as both of theirs grows back.

if buckbucky is an established thing in this verse, we all know damn well john would be obsessed with gale's scruff, rubbing his own cheek up against it like a cat, thirsting over it and ogling him 24/7.

and the way it feels against his thighs, stubble burn leaving the sensitive skin a pretty pink when gale's face is between his legs...

john would be devastated and pouty when it comes time for him to finally shave it, but gale would promise him "when we get out, i'll let it grow back for a bit, yeah?" and that would perk him right up. <3