Merica
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Summary
When he shimmies off the bed, he sees a laser focused Gale, eyes red-rimmed and hooded from the single obligatory shot that all brothers had to take with their assigned pledges. He’s staring at the vicinity of John's hips where his jeans have sagged. That alone wouldn’t be a problem, if not for how the hem of his t-shirt is also flapped over itself to reveal black lace skimming over both hipbones.
-- frat boy AU
Bookmarked by slowsweetlove (Merica)
10 Nov 2025
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Summary
Those are the times Gale feels like a younger sibling. Other times, he— doesn't, and there really isn’t any one word or phrase that encapsulates how he feels then.
Technically he's known John for almost his entire life. Hard not to put someone like that on a pedestal.
-- Gale has nowhere to go, except maybe his ex-best friend's older brother's place
Series
- Part 1 of you used to know me
Bookmarked by slowsweetlove (Merica)
13 Oct 2025
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Summary
Five times the Buckies hooked up on the road, and one time they didn't have to.
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The sodium glare of parking lot pole lights isn’t exactly the kindest under pretty much any and every circumstance, but it somehow sits on Gale Cleven like a lover’s caress. Featureless yellow leeches the colors out of him as it does everyone else, the angle of it overhead throws deep shadows under every prominent feature as it does everyone else, and yet somehow when he turns to lean his shoulder against the payphone booth he almost looks like one of the models some of the guys put up clippings of in their sleepers, center crease carelessly smoothed away so it hangs right. Sensuality playing at the angelic, salvation stripped down to delicious sin.
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Summary
“It’ll be fun,” Marge says to him over the phone as he’s unpacking another box in his tiny, studio apartment. “I’ve been to a few other classes, it’s a good environment.”
“It doesn’t sound like my sort of environment, Marge,” Gale says, picking up an astrophysics textbook that pushes the bounds of what a single-handed grip is capable of. It strains the tendons in his wrist as he tries not to drop it on the way to its new home in the built-in bookshelf. The edges of it are bloated, almost rubbery with how many times it’s been painted over in the same shade of white, a few spots chipped away to show rich brown wood underneath.
“Your sort of environment is on a hill with a telescope, with nobody around.”
Bookmarked by slowsweetlove (Merica)
18 Aug 2025
Bookmarker's Notes
The one where the ropes are in beautiful knots and perfectly bind SubGale.
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- Words:
- 69,050
- Works:
- 4
- Bookmarks:
- 20
Bookmarked by slowsweetlove (Merica)
31 Jul 2025