#John is definitely homophobic

[angelsdean]

oh I love being a lover of multitudes of headcanons !! different and conflicting headcanons co-existing. Like i want to entertain ALLL the scenarios !!! they can be compelling in different situations, different narratives !!!

[uwu-scraptrappy]

Saw x Sailor Moon. Sawlor Moon, if you will.

John taking the place of Sailor Moon. What were once soft, beautiful odangos become sharp saw blades and silver chains. What glittered and sparkled with magic now bled. With every "Moon Prism Power, Make up!", a wake of blood, pain, and madness followed.

John would transform for the first time during Cecil's test in the knife chair. On his way to catching Cecil, he met a small cat with a crescent on its head. The cat (who I have not decided whether or not should be Jill as Luna) would've given John a small token of appreciation for feeding it some treats: a metal brooch

When John starts up the trap, a monster unexpectedly shows up to attack. The cat, introducing itself as Luna, arrives to tell John to transform.

John as Sailor Moon takes down the monster, and Luna congratulates him, but tells him there are more to find....

Anyways Amanda is Mars, Lawrence is Mercury, Mark is Venus, and Logan is (unfortunately) Jupiter. hit tweet.

[destiel-more-like-im-dead-again]

you get it

something about john winchester mischaracterisation just needles me inexplicably. i can deal with it if a fic is good otherwise but cmon. you have to Get Him. he loves the boys and he ruins their lives like come on….. if you don’t get that he loves them then how r u even getting dean’s character considering that dean is The Same in this manner. love can be bad love doesn’t change abuse it just complicates it etc etc.

unrelatedly but also relatedly, i don’t think he’d be actually homophobic because i don’t think he has time to care. i do however think dean would be absolutely convinced he is incredibly homophobic for unknown reasons. john probably makes like an offhanded comment about something being gay once and 15 year old dean (very attracted to men. genuinely no idea whatsoever. still feels intense rush of panic at the word) decides it must mean john desperately and intensely HATES gay people and proceeds to become world’s best baby homophobe for like a year before he starts to think Maybe Sammy’s gay (sam likes to read books) and cools down on the homophobia. also his heart was never really in it. but he still thinks john is homophobic and has also decided sam’s probably gay (sam is more attracted to women than dean is) so he worries about this a lot.

then one day john says extremely casually about sam Sometimes I wonder if he’s not a little queer, you know, and dean’s heart stops and he’s like What no of course not what and john’s like If it means he doesn’t get into as much trouble with girls as you seem to, I honestly don’t mind and dean’s just like. What. but by this point it’s far too late and all fragments of homosexuality have been far buried beneath the surface by his subconscious. Also it’s important that john WOULD be kind of annoyed by dean being gay. he already thinks sam is weird and has decided to love him anyway (although i’m not sure sam got the memo about being loved anyway so the effort was useless) so it’s ok if sam is gay (privilege of being the family freak!) but dean is meant to be mini him. #picking up girls. see that journal entry. he’d get over it though.

[lokilokilolki]

The tragic homosexual love trope: a cross-examination

I personally don't think Hannibal is the same kind of emotionally stunted because to be fair (spoiler) he does say exactly what he means every time via cleverly and symbolically splayed corpses.

And John I feel, definitely was abandoned by Sherlock after Reichenbein for three years, but they did get back together after in a satisfying conclusion (raising a child together omg besties) so like hopefully all the gays just adopt in the next seasons

BBC Merlin (I'm just realizing) has so many parallels too fml might update

Part two of ~that one show with a lot of tragic gay subtext that isn't really subtext but the studio is homophobic (not you Neil and Brian, love u guys <3) so we just say it's subtext~: A Cross-Reference

Sherlock and Will def have the most in common and are just on opposite ends of the moral spectrum which is basically the only thing keeping Sherlock away from being the scariest serial killer ever.

BONUS: SHERLOCK AND HANNIBAL: both keep decapitated heads in their fridges ayoooo

Everyone: "My boyfriend would kill/severely maim for me"

I also feel like Arthur from BBC Merlin would also fit really well here. His character especially identifies with Aziriphale:

I love him, but the belief system that was drilled into my head all my life prevents me from fully accepting him as he is

[m1ssunderstanding]

Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 3.1

I thank my lucky stars every night that Yoko eventually got sick of playing secret-keeper.

Paul: I didn't leave the Beatles. The Beatles have left the Beatles . . . John said he wanted a divorce. Alright, so do I. See how they say “Beatles” and they mean each other sometimes?

Derek Taylor on John's position on the break-up: if Paul were to approach him and say “let's do it together again” he probably would; with no more words, he would probably do it. Which is an insane claim to make to a world full of people grieving the greatest band to ever exist unless you are very very sure of that probability. But if it's true that that's all it would have taken, and Paul didn't do it? That hurts my head a little. Do we think he was just hurt too bad to want it back? Do we think he didn't know he had that kind of power? Do we think he was glad to be free of the group?

Ugh my heart can't take it. I'd cry too, John, watching that. I mean look at how they are looking at each other. Look at everything they've lost in a year. I'd bawl like a baby too.

Paul sends John a long, thorough letter, begging for them to legally end their partnership outside of a court. John's run out of cards at this point, but he still doesn't want to lose Paul, so he's just going to play dumb.

This is how bad he doesn't want to lose him, actually: he goes along with Klein in tricking Paul this time. Calls him up and asks him to come to the studio for a jam session, because it'll hurt his case in court. But for multiple reasons – the Eastmans were knowledgeable lawyers, and Paul might not have even wanted to be in a room with John at the time anyway – Paul doesn't come. Which John would've been hurt and angry over, no matter his motives.

"They tell you to stop crying at about age twelve. Be a man. What the hell's that?" I'm so proud of John for his (albeit long and backsliding) journey out of his toxic masculinity and violence. Something I honestly don't see him achieving without Yoko.

And from that quote it transitions to Paul in Scotland, looking like the embodiment of depression, as the opening of “Isolation” plays. It's perfect.

“And don't try to come over here. Or you might get in some trouble.” The way he just froze when he saw them filming him and then the next thing we see is him threatening them? Get ‘em, babe!

John sounds so giddy about this one-upping competition with Paul. I'll scare him and then he'll scare me!

The whole Lennon Remembers era is such a terrible case of diarrhea of the mouth in general, but the amount of homophobic language is quite striking compared to how John talked before and after.

John, talking about George in Rolling Stone: "he was working with two fucking brilliant songwriters and he learned a lot from us." People read that quote and just parrot it like they do with everything John said in this period and act like George had nothing to be angry over. He had every right to be much angrier and hold a much bigger grudge than he did.

And about George's new record, which was phenomenal and brilliant, John is transparently jealous and so cruel. If he'd said that about me and then asked me to play on his new record I'd tell him to go to hell. Why did George do it?

See and everyone who knows John knows how much he loved Brian and to hear him speaking so crassly and cruelly about Brian must've been a sure indication to them to just take the entire interview through that lense of “oh he's just saying shit”. But that's only the people who knew him. Everyone else for the rest of time took this shit as constitutional. And it pisses me off. It should be locked away in a vault somewhere and no one is allowed to listen to it until they've passed some kind of Beatles and emotional intelligence tests.

This crushes my soul. How warped must his definition of love have been by that point that he genuinely believed Phil Spector and Allen Klein loved him more than Paul and George did? It's bonkers.

John in 1967: all you need is love! John in 1971: the point of life is to manipulate people. . . . What the hell happened to you, buddy?

I go back and forth as to who's the smarter PR person: John or Yoko? Because maybe she's right. Maybe they shouldn't divulge that they're master manipulators. But is this one of those times when it's good to be all “look how honest we are about this! We're not hiding anything! We're saying bad things about ourselves too! So you should believe us about everything else!”

Really this documentarian should be hired to make all the music videos for all the Beatles and solo songs. This one for “Too Many People” is perfect. Paul walking into court with a full beard and a confident stride, John and Yoko in bed, Paul horse riding overlayed on Linda's gorgeous face like she's some goddess, designing his fate. All of it is just pure brilliance.

I'm forever laughing at just the title of the song, too. Because to John and Yoko it was so important that they were Weird and Off-putting. Different. Revolutionary. And to say “no. You're not special. There's actually an excess of people like you.” Is so funny to me.

“When she wants an A side, that's when we start fighting.” Oh gosh. Remember how I said he backslides a lot in his feminism journey? Yeah…

Insanity quote Hall of Fame. Yeah, I know he meant to say it's weird to be best friends with a woman. But it sounds like he's saying it's weird to fuck a woman. Which maybe he subconsciously means both idk.

Paul: we need to legally dissolve the partnership because it's the only way we're attached anymore. Ouch. Okay it's true. It's deserved. But that must've stung for the guy who was terrified of losing people. Must've sent him into fight or flight.

I think the point of this framing is to say that if they'd had facetime back then, instead of just crackly phone lines, HDYS would not have been written. Not with those puppy eyes staring him down like that.

Interviewer: the song wasn't even funny though. John: well I think it's hilarious. Interviewer: hmm. Lol I love hearing interviewers talk to John about his lyrics like he's a real guy doing a real job, though. Imagine a music critic now saying John Lennon wasn't clever in his lyrics. You can't, yeah. Me either.

What a slap in the face to Cynthia. Guess she wasn't Cool Girl enough. Should've gone girled him. That would be an excellent fic. Cyn and Jane gone girl their idiot bfs and John and Paul realize they're in love on death row. But anyway, yeah. If Paul would've just pet John's head . . .

Another absolutely bonkers thing to say. That's something the Rockstar’s ex wife says in a documentary ten years after he's dead, not something a songwriting partner says, completely unprompted, in an exiting the band interview.

And then he goes off on what I see as a self-soothing diatribe on Paul the family man. You can see the hoops he jumped through to get himself there. What did Paul want that I couldn't give him? A family. And is that justified? Absolutely not, only pussies and conservatives want families.

Allan Klein: were you and Paul ever really close, then? John: no. John: not that I didn't love him. I did. It's just that every time I let my guard down, he hurt me. Holy shit. At this point, after getting hit in the face with so much of John's Paul-made pain with nothing from the other side but pictures of the happy McCartney family, I'm genuinely feeling quite angry at Paul. Me. An extremely biased Paul girl who knows it's far more complicated and multi-dimensional than this. No wonder the uninformed public fucking hated his guts.

And as they're showing this quote, “I didn't want to hurt you,” plays mournfully in the background. They really are so twisted up in each other there's no separating individual identities.

Okay so he's a psychopath. So what? He's the sexiest man that ever was or ever will be. He's allowed to be a horrible person. No, but really. He's Get Back Paul but healthier. He's done with his depression drinking and he's been spending a lot of time proving he's still useful enough to exist by building fences and shearing sheep.

And this is how Paul talks about George to interviews. John said Klein made ATMP a success but Paul disagrees. "George recorded it all, wrote it all, did it all, wasn't anything to do with [Klein]. It was George's victory, wasn't it?" Compare that to how John does it and tell me again why the hell George is Team John?

What is Paul's obsession with daddies? Actually I know exactly what the obsession with daddies comes from, but we won't get into that here. I do find it interesting that in ‘69 he's saying “we do need a sort of central daddy figure.” And in ‘71 he's deriding John needing one and won't let John's daddy of choice touch him with a hundred foot pole.

I tend to think Paul chafes against authority in general, but that's actually not right. He never had a problem with George Martin. I think it's just abusive authority or authority he doesn't trust yet.

[bettyfrommars]

I'm on Fire//biker!older!Eddie x fem!Reader//90's au

Part 12: For Whom the Phone Rings

WARNINGS PLS READ: 18+ONLY, MATURE THEMES, violence, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), creampie, jealousy, threat of violence, homophobic slurs, threat of sexual violation (does not actually happen), threat to someone's family, foul language, derogatory slurs in general, mention of a gun, financial struggle, bribes, mention of blood, ANGST, biker MC, mention of violent past, hurt and comfort. WC: 8.2k

Summary: You and Eddie take another leap in your relationship and get cozy together, while Steve rolls into high gear with the MC, biting off a bit more than he can chew. Robin takes matters into her own hands to protect Oliver, and past relationships come back to haunt. Playlist

Series Masterlist

A/N: I rarely go into these chapters knowing what will happen, and this story in particular definitely has a mind of its own now. That being said, you won't ever read about the act of sexual violation in these or any of the main characters getting killed or detrimentally hurt, because I just can't stomach writing about it. This part is definitely angsty, but I hope you enjoy ❤️

pls NO MINORS beyond this point

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For Whom the Phone Rings

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You decided that making it through the rest of the dinner with John would be too painful knowing that Eddie was in love with you and he was out there on his motorcycle waiting like some Cool Rider dream out of Grease 2. Knowing that you were also in love with him and all of the endorphins that went along with that feeling made your body tingle. You didn’t want to let go of his hand; you wanted to just walk right out with him. Yet, the business side of you didn’t want to lose John as a contact, or Richard Gere for that matter. No need to burn unnecessary bridges.

You went back to the table and gave John a reluctant, sad smile, and told him the phone call was an emergency and you had to run. He got to his feet and insisted on driving you, but you assured him that your boyfriend was coming to pick you up. You realized in that moment that’d you’d never referred to Eddie as your boyfriend out loud before, and it felt really fucking good.

Eddie was straddling his motorcycle and smoking a cigarette when he caught sight of you coming out the front door, and you both grinned like idiots at each other.

“That was quick,” he swung his leg off, taking hold of your hand so he could yank you toward him faster, cause he couldn’t wait to get his lips on you again. He pulled his leather jacket out of one of the saddlebags and opened it up for you to put on. “It’s cold out on the road, baby.”

And so you let the heavy jacket with all of it’s zippers and buckles envelope you, smelling his cologne and a hint of nicotine in the leather. You of course hadn’t brought the helmet he bought for you, so you wore his again, buckling it under your chin as he revved the bike, throwing one of the body guards a dirty look for keeping his eyes on you for too long.

The only problem was your dress. Eddie anticipated the slit that went all the way up to your hip when you mounted behind him and the material fell back, exposing your entire leg. He instantly swung his arm back to block the view of your limb from the other dudes present, palming your knee. “Scoot in as tight as you can, baby,” he said to you above the growl of the engine, his wrist working at the throttle. During the ride home, his hand kept returning to the same spot, and you rubbed his chest with your hands, pinning your cheek to his shoulder, liking the way the ends of his hair flew back and tickled your nose.

Back at the garage, neither one of you could keep your hands off of each other after Eddie parked the bike. He actually tossed the helmet skidding to the pavement when you handed it to him because he didn’t want to miss a moment of being able to cup your ass and pull your mouth to his.

“God, I love you,” Eddie breathed, parting ways only to get the key out and unlock the door, and then you both stumbled in, laughing as you playfully bit his arm. You shrugged out of his jacket and he threw that over his head to the bottom of the stairs, just as your fingers hooked into his back belt loops and you stomped up the old wood stairs behind him.

This was one of those moments you knew you would cherish for the rest of your life. Even as it was happening, your body was registering it as one of your favorite memories. This new love with Eddie, this intense urgency to get somewhere to worship each other in peace.

He tugged you inside his apartment, pushed you back against the door, and held your hands above your head, kissing you as he braced you there. Tongues were quicker to touch than lips, and then his forehead pressed to yours; adrenaline surging.

Eddie’s hands released yours and slid down to feel you, pulling your breast free from the front of your dress so that his thumb could graze your nipple. His other hand found your bare leg beneath the slit of the dress and dipped down between your legs.

“Shit, baby,” he hissed, fingering your arousal as his cock flexed in his jeans.

“See what you do to me?” You slid your hands around the back of his neck, fingers into his hair, and picked your chin up to find his mouth again.

His knuckle dragged along your damp underwear, and you had your hand down his jeans now, palming him through his boxers. Your pussy throbbed as you got a hold of the bare skin of his length, tip leaking for you.

“Get me out of this dress,” you begged against his mouth, knowing that you couldn’t reach the zipper in the back by yourself.

“I hate this fucking dress,” Eddie added, blocking you against the door, slipping your underwear aside, dipping his finger into your pie, making your breath catch. “I hate that he bought it for you.”

You pushed away from him only to try and pull the dress up over your head, but the material was too stiff, and you were only able to wiggle the lower part of your ass out.

“Stop right there, baby,” Eddie mumbled. He came up behind you to pull your thong aside and press his cock up along the warm wet silk of your slit. “Fuckkk,” he groaned, cupping the front of your throat and pulling you back.

You shivered as his tip got close to entering you; the need pulsed at your core, and you whimpered as his tongue found your ear, flicking around the outside. With his cock stiff and lifted enough to ride between your legs without assistance, both of his hands pushed the front of your dress down, cupping your breasts, pinching and twisting the nipples, making you drop your head back with a gasp. You were only wearing the dress around your mid-section now, knees weak, sighs hot and heavy.

“Are you my girl?” He grumbled it, and then blew air on your neck where his saliva was, making you shiver.

“Mhmmm,” you responded. His pelvis was bouncing off your ass as he worked his length along your dripping slit.

“Tell me,” he demanded. “Tell me who you belong to.”

You reached a hand up to grab his head, ass pressing back against his thrusts, pussy clenching. “You, baby, only you,” It was urgent; the hole between your legs begging to be fed and filled by this man, and this man only.

Eddie reached down to finger your core with his big hand, cock kicking up at the mess he found there soaking through. “I love you so fucking much. You’re killing me.”

He ducked back to try and find the zipper, but it stuck at the top. In a moment of passionate fury, he took hold of the material with both hands and ripped the back open with a grunt. The threads spit open at a jagged angle, exposing the soft skin of your back, and then he just kept pulling, yanking the material away. “Fuck this dress,” he hissed as it met the ground in pieces.

He ripped your underwear off with a single yank, the sensation of breaking material hot against your hip, and you yelped at the surprise, but then he had you on the bed, pulling his shirt up over his head to expose the wash of tattoos, and pushing his jeans and boxers down. The length of his cock bounced up, showing the thick vein underneath, the upper shaft still glistening with your juices.

He crawled on the mattress after you and you urged him closer, sealing his mouth to yours, brushing his hair out of his face. “I need it so bad right now baby, please,” you mewed, a desperate whine in the back of your throat. You felt the head of his cock knocking at the swollen folds above your entrance, and you spread your legs wide; dripping and begging.

“I need it too, baby,” he breathed, pressing his forehead to yours. “So fucking bad.”

You looked down to watch him hold his huge cock at the base so he could run the tip along your slit; preparing it for duty. “Tell me if it’s...too much?” He whispered it just before he kissed you again. You were sure it would just melt right in.

But then he buried the tip and your body stiffened, a tiny squeak escaping your throat. Eddie’s hand clamped onto your hip as his lips parted and his eyebrows cinched together. “Fuck, you’re so tight baby,” and he rose up a bit to look down at the way he disappeared inside of you, working the tip back and forth, taking his time. “This is all mine, yeah? No one else.”

“No one else, baby,” you gasped grabbing his neck, meeting his eyes. He searched your face, flexing his hips to sink in another inch. He had one hand braced on the bed while the other cupped your jaw, and then his thumb sank into your mouth and you sucked it.

Eddie glanced down again at your beautiful body open for him, and decided he couldn’t wait another second to own you, and buried himself the rest of the way in, cursing, feeling like he might cum right then and there. You cried out, exposing your throat for him to paint with his tongue.

He sat back on his knees briefly to thrust in hard a few times, base deep, needing to know he was deeper than anyone had ever been inside you before. Needing to look at what he did to you; the way you unraveled for him.

But then his eyes snapped to yours, needing something else.

You could see the ask in his soft dark orbs as he braced his hands at your hips, locking his length inside of you for a few breaths as the gravity of emotions vibrated in the air.

“I love you,” you told him. And then the dam broke and you said it over and over and over, and he dropped his body close, bucking his hips, his own affirmations of love flowing with each breath. You clung to his shoulders and wrapped your legs as he stretched you out, digging heels in, needing him to be as close as two humans could possibly be.

The intensity of the experience mounted a quick release and soon Eddie’s face was right above you, taking your chin to turn your face. “Look at me,” he said. “Don’t look away, okay?”

His pace quickened, forehead tightening, and a warmth started to spill through your body like liquid sunlight until all you could do was search his eyes and babble, “fucfuckfuckIloveyou...fuck.”

Eddie slowed for a moment. “I’m gonna cum so hard inside you, baby. Do you want that?”

“Yes baby please,” you whined. “Fuck, please, all of it.”

And then he was down close to you again, slamming into you with purpose, one hand on your throat, headboard banging the wall. Your eyes locked and then you were cumming, hard, seeing white, velvet tugs rippling at your core.

Eddie felt your walls clench like a heart beat around his cock and watched your eyelids flutter, sending his release into action, the bark of an exhale in his chest.

You were riding the wave of your orgasm when you felt him tremble, his hips stuttering, pupils blown. The feel of his warm seed pumping extended the ripple affect, and you both clung to each other with aching breaths as Eddie dropped his head to find your mouth.

You palmed his cheek as he finished, eye clamping shut for the first time to take in all that had just happened. He brushed his lips on your palm, your eyelids, your cheeks, all while buried inside you; nurturing a desire in his belly to curl up and live there forever.

His jeans and boots on, denim pooled at his ankles, too ripe with eagerness earlier to even consider the seconds it would take to remove them. It was a while before he pulled out of you, and the tender way he brushed his lips across your face and neck had your ears ringing, skin buzzing. It wasn’t fair that you would automatically think the worst in a situation such as this, but you were afraid of how much you loved this man. Already considering the rejection or the thing that would inevitably go wrong, and how bad it would break you. How you might never recover from this one.

He officially had your heart and he could do whatever he wanted with it. There was no longer a decision to be made or pros and cons to consider: you were completely, utterly gone.

---------

“I hope you rot in hell you greedy cunt!” Steve said as he slammed the phone down on the receiver with a clang.

Robin rushed into the kitchen from the living room, eyes wide, hoping that Steve’s outburst hadn’t woken Oliver from his nap. They both froze for a few seconds, ears perked to listen for the sound of his tiny footfalls or a door opening.

“I hope that wasn’t your mother,” Robin chided, throwing the dishtowel in her hand over the side of the sink.

“Think bigger cunt,” he said in a much lower voice, throwing on his leather Coffin Kings cut. “They’re staying at that seedy motel over on Chestnut.”

Robin bristled, knowing it has been Tina, Oliver’s biological mom. She crossed her arms. “Do we need to get a lawyer?”

“With what money, Rob?” He braced his hands on the back of one of the dining table chairs, facing her, rolling his neck.

Robin was taking on more shifts at the hotel and Steve at his two jobs, but it felt like they could never dig out of the hole they were in lately.

Steve took a deep breath and straightened, rolling his shoulders. “Don’t worry, okay? I got some things lined up. We’ll have enough to make that pickled whore and her dog-faced pimp go away for a bit. Hopefully they overdose and fucking die---”

“Steve.”

“What? I hope they die. I’m not afraid to say it.” He snatched his sunglasses off the table and slid them over his eyes. “I won’t be back till late. I got a thing with the Kings, and then I’m at the Hammer tonight.”

He said it all over his shoulder as he was crossing the distance to the door and opening it.

“Wait,” Robin called after him. “What thing with the Kings?” He’d promised her numerous times that he wasn’t doing anything illegal or detrimental to his health for Oliver’s sake, but the Coffin Kings weren’t ones to just meet up for a casual cheese and wine picnic in the park.

He stepped outside into the early afternoon sunlight and shut the door behind him. “It’s nothing,” he told her through the open window. “Kiss my boy for me when he wakes up.”

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Earlier that morning, around 4am, you were tucked close to Eddie as he spooned you, the fingers of one hand intertwined with yours, his warm breath on the back of your neck. His cum sticky between your legs. You were out of the habit of sharing a bed with someone, and so your sleep was a bit restless, but every time you snapped awake and remembered where you were---a warmth came over you, and you nuzzled against him, kissing his hand.

Eddie, on the other hand, was sleeping like a bear. Knowing you were safe in his arms was like a sedative for him. He stirred briefly a few times only to squeeze your hand or kiss your shoulder, but for the most part, you listened as his heavy breathing turned into a rattling snore in the back of his throat, and it made you smile.

You jumped when the phone rang loud and shrill, and Eddie’s head popped off the pillow with a grunt, his eyes closed.

“Whoever it is, they are dead fucking meat,” he mumbled out of the side of his mouth after dropping his cheek back to the pillow.

You moved as if you were about to get out of his way so he could reach the phone that was on your side of the bed, but Eddie’s arm held fast, locking you in place. “Let the machine get it, baby,” he whispered, tongue clicking in his dry mouth, already halfway back to dreamland.

It was so cute to think about how he ran out and bought an answering machine because you asked him to. You knew he hated them, and it was something he’d done just for you, so that he would never miss a message if you called.

It rang three times before you heard beep and the machine click on, and then there came a woman’s voice you didn’t recognize:

“Um, hey Eddie baby, long time no talk…”

Behind you, Eddie stiffened. Your eyes blew wide open.

“...I can’t believe you finally stepped into the modern age and got an answering machine. Maybe people do change, I know I have,” there was a shuffling and the sound of ice clinking in a glass. “I’ve really been missing you lately and thinking about that time we went to Sturgis and we missed Steppenwolf because we were too busy fucking in the back of the…”

Eddie started to crawl over you, ready to yank the phone cord out of the wall, but you put your hand up to stop him, and he paused there, one hand braced on either side of you, hair hanging down. “This is nothing, baby, she’s--” he whispered, but then the message continued.

“...and then on the way home ate burgers in the park. Fuck, those were good times. I know you never sleep, so I figured you’d hear this message and pick up, but maybe you don’t want to talk to me anymore? I can’t say I’d blame you. Anyway, I’m coming to town this weekend for a wedding and I’d love to see you if you want to see me. I’m staying at Chrissy’s moms house, I think you still have the number.”

Eddie fell back on the bed, gnawing on his bottom lip, one hand on your thigh, waiting for the nightmare to end so that he could explain to you that it was all ancient history. He hadn’t been with Melanie in almost 5 years, and he hadn’t from heard her for at least 2, and he didn’t want to hear from her, not ever again. If he had to guess, he’d bet that she’d dumped another one of her boyfriends and was looking for comfort; the likes of which he had none to give. God, why was this happening to him? Why now of all the times in the fucking world for her to call?

He wanted to pick that answering machine up and break it in half with his bare hands.

Meanwhile, you were trying to push down the discomfort rising in your throat. This was clearly someone from Eddie’s past, someone he hadn’t spoken to in a while, but you couldn’t help the jealousy that tightened your flesh over your bones and made your tongue push against the back of your teeth.

“Anyway, maybe if you’re up for it, we can get a drink at the Hideout for old time’s sake? Well, now I feel stupid talking to this thing. Call me, okay? Same number as before. Oh, and this is Melanie by the way, remember me? The one you were supposed to grow old with?” Melanie took a moment to giggle to herself before she finished. “Okay, miss you lots. Bye bye.”

The phone clicked on her end and the message beeped again to announced that it was finally over. You and Eddie lay in the loud silence for a few seconds, and then Eddie swallowed hard.

“Let me explain? I haven’t talked to her in---”

But you cut him off, rolling over on your other side to face him, nudging his arm to open up so you could slide into his armpit and put your head on his chest, your leg stretching over his, hand palming his bicep, thumb grazing his nipple.

“We can talk about it later,” you hushed.

He pulled you close, kissing the top of your head, “she means nothing to me, baby,” he reiterated, and then it wasn’t long before you heard the purr of his snores again. His arm went lax and slipped down to the bed with a flop.

But you, you were wide awake. Blinking ever so often with the rhythm of the red light on the machine cast on the ceiling, announcing that there was a new message.

---------

In the dark corner of an abandoned warehouse in the industrial district, Steve’s fist cracked into the jaw of a guy tied to a chair with duct tape over his mouth. This was not the first punch, and his knuckles were raw. The guy in the chair was a snitch who’d tried to run, but Steve and a few of the others caught up with him. He had a shaved head covered in tattoos, his eye was now swollen, and nose broken, so he was struggling to breathe through the snot and the blood.

Steve stepped back, kicking his chin up, signaling to two of the Hell’s Belles that were there. “Take his Kutte,” he told them.

One of the two women slipped a knife of of the sheath at her hip and twirled it in the air before slicing the leather of his cut off at the arm hole so that they wouldn’t have to untie his hands. They cut and yanked on both sides until the material opened up and The guy screamed inside the duct tape, drool dripping down his chin from a tiny gap in the tape.

Steve’s tattooed hand was seeping watery blood from one knuckle as he pinched a cigarette between thumb and forefinger and took a drag. “You know, Jerry Dog wants your head. He told me to bring it to him in a bag with a pretty bow on it.”

The guy had stopped trying to battle the restraints, but he glared at Steve with hard, dark eyes, shouting something that only came out as muffled noise. Two of the Coffin Kings were standing at Steve’s back, legs braced wide, hands resting on the hilts of weapons at their sides. Steve turned on his heel, following the Hell’s Belle with the torn leather vest out of the damp building and into the sunlight. She had shoulder length, orange hair with one side completely shaved, and she went by the name Ratchet.

Ratchet made sure to put the cut in the saddle bag on the back of her bike and tighten the buckle closed before she turned around to address Steve again. “I thought you and War Machine were taking a step back from the life? That’s the rumor, anyway.”

War Machine was Eddie’s nickname, and had been ever since they were young and he was always getting into fights with kids who tried to pick on him or others. Steve had been known as Taz around the MC, in honor of the Tasmanian Devil, because if he was in a mood, he’d fight anyone--even if the odds were stacked against him. The gold tooth he had was to replace one of his incisors due to the original one getting knocked out when he was 21 by a guy with metal rings on. Steve’d spit the tooth out at the time and started laughing, blood dripping down his chin like a mad man. He never though things through like Eddie did. Back in their school days, Wayne would come around the corner to the principals office with that tired look on his face as he removed his hat, and there’d be Steve and Eddie; bloody noses and swollen lips. They were both never far from each other, and neither one let the other go into battle alone.

But Eddie hadn’t gone by War Machine in years; he’d grown to hate it, actually. The things he’d done in the name of the MC as War Machine were some of the things he hated most about himself.

“I got a son now, ya know,” Steve sucked hard on his smoke, cheeks caving in, and then he exhaled to the side. “And Eddie’s just, a good guy I guess. Just cause you grown up in the life doesn’t mean you’re made for it.”

Tiger Lily—the other female biker with Ratchet--and the two Kings with Steve were also wandering around, having a smoke break and taking a piss, while they let the guy inside sweat, wondering if these were his final moments.

Ratchet tucked the long side of her hair behind her ear, her nickname tattooed in cursive on the side of her throat. “How’s Robin?”

Steve hadn’t seen Ratch in a while, but it was standard procedure for her to ask after his best friend. The two had a thing many years ago, but Ratch was a dog at the time and went sniffing too many other butts for Robin’s liking. Fucking things up with Buckley was still one of her biggest regrets.

“We’ve got our share of the shit pie,” Steve assured. “But we’re making it work. I couldn’t do it without her.” He tapped his heel on the toe of his boot and flicked his cigarette. “I’ve got a gig lined up with some rich bitch. Easy bag, some lame body guard gig. It should get our heads out of water, at least.”

“Who’s it for?” Ratchet squinted, exhaling smoke out her nose, down the piercing in the middle of her bottom lip.

“I don’t really know,” Steve shrugged. “She seems to have a lot of money to throw around, that’s all I give a fuck about.”

“Careful, bro,” Ratchet held the two fingers up holding her cigarette, chipped black polish on her fingernails. “There’s a wealthy cougar in town who likes to hire MC’s as body guards and she’s been pitting different clubs against each other. Three of Lucifer’s Own got the piss beat out of them the other weekend trying to defend her fortress. Put Donnie in intensive care.”

Steve’s mind flicked to the night Eddie was stabbed, and the way Eddie wouldn’t tell him who did it because he knew Steve would go off the rails.

“Like I said,” Steve rolled his neck, crushing the end of this cig into the mud with the toe of his boot. “I don’t care what the drama is, long as she pays.”

Ratchet respected this, offering a twitch of her brow.

“Let’s get this over with,” Steve motioned to the rest as he opened the aluminum door to head back into the building. “I got shit to do.”

The guy in the chair was struggling to breathe through some miracle opening in his inflamed and bleeding nostrils. His broad chest heaved, nearly popping open the buttons on his black and blue flannel, gasping for air, cheeks puffing out, his bald head slick with sweat.

Steve took position in front of him again. The whole cutting his head off thing was a bluff. Jerry Dog had never requested such a thing. The other two Kings, Rooster and Emmett, would toss him in the back of the utility van and dump him down at the train yard and wait for further instructions.

The guy in the chair barked something at Steve through the tape, eyes narrowing, but it only came out as a strangled mumble.

“You trying to say something to me, Inky?” Steve cocked his head, referring to the man’s nickname.

Steve reached across to rip the tape off in one quick swipe, taking some of Inky’s mustache with it. The guy wheezed, bending his head to take a few deep inhales through his mouth, coughing a few times at the greedy pulls of air his body was taking.

“I got good news, man,” Steve’s tone was sarcastic as he rested his hands on his hips. “You get to keep your head. For now.”

Inky spit. He’d clearly intended the projected saliva to land on Steve, but it hit the ground next to his boot instead. Steve looked down at the spit, and then back up at Inky. “To think I thought you’d be grateful?”

“Fuck you, Taz,” Inky sneered at Steve, his voice full of vitriol. “I never did like you. Jerry Dog is gonna let me walk, and then you know what I’m gonna do? I’m gonna come to your house and fuck the gay right outta that dyke roommate of yours, and I’m gonna make your kid watch.”

If Steve ever had a voice of reason that spoke to him in his head, it wasn’t about to change the impact those words had on him. There would be no more talking, no more negotiation, and no one in that room would dare to try and stop him, even if they wanted to, as he started pummeling his fist over and over into Inky’s face. At one point, Inky lost consciousness, jaw broken and slack, and the chair fell sideways, landing his head to the cement with a thunk. Steve followed, dropping on top of him, seeing red, unable to stop his fist from working, smashing, breaking.

When the other four were finally able to pull Steve off, it was too late for Inky.

---------

“Who is this Melanie bitch?” Katie came to visit you that night during your shift at the Velvet Hammer because you felt like you needed a pep talk. You’d just come up next to the bar where she was having her whiskey sour, and the ask was loud enough for Shanna, the longtime bartender and manager to hear.

Shanna had on a platinum blonde wig shaped in a 1920’s bob cut, a row of 6 tiny hoops curving up one ear, and a long, red upside down cross dangling from the other. She squinted at Katie while she squeezed fresh orange juice to make a screwdriver, and then her eyes shifted to you. “Melanie. You mean Melanie Drake? Your old man’s ex?”

You knew Eddie had a past, and you were glad for the most part. He was in his early thirties, for godsake, and if he hadn’t at least tried to commit to someone before you, it could easily be seen as a red flag. And it didn’t matter how much in love you knew you both were, or how devoted he clearly was to you—there was something unsettling about the girlfriend before you coming to town. Not just any girlfriend or one night stand, but someone he’d clearly had deep feelings for. Not only was she coming to town, but she explicitly wanted to see your boyfriend.

“Yeah,” you moved your jaw and absently straightened the little black pocket apron around your waist. “She left a really flirty message early this morning on his machine while we were in bed together.”

“Nooooo,” Katie blanched, making a yuck face. “What did you do? What did you say? What did HE say?”

Shanna passed the screwdriver and two pints of beer over to Jackie who loaded them on her tray. The dancer in the back was giving a wild show to the tune of Unsung by Helmet, sliding down the pole slowly, both legs spread wide, dropping to the floor in the splits with a head bang.

Shanna was clearly invested in the story now too, waiting with baited breath for you to answer Katie’s questions. “We just...went back to sleep. I told him we could talk about it in the morning. But then we woke up late and he had to rush out.”

Shanna and Katie exchanged a look.

“He loves me, we are good, I trust him,” you moved the four tequila shots and limes to your tray as Shanna passed them to you, and you couldn’t tell if you were trying to convince yourself or them.

“Of course he loves you, but is he planning to meet up with her, though?” Katie asked, taking the two tiny red straws out of her drink. “Cause, I don’t like that idea. Feels wrong. Sends her an encouraging message.”

You didn’t have a chance to answer before Shanna spoke up. “Melanie won’t show her face in here if she knows what’s good for her,” she paused only to rim a margarita glass with salt. You and Katie both directed your attention to hear the rest. “Years ago, she was hired on as one of the dancers for a couple months. Found out she was stealing from the other girls and giving blowjobs to customers in the bathroom.”

You blinked a few times, not liking the fact that she’d also had a job there. Katie lifted her glass to her lips but paused there, giving you a side eye.

Shanna raised an eyebro, smoky eye makeup rimming eyes that were so brown they were almost black. “And that was when she was still supposedly with your old man. I’m not even sure if he ever found out about it. Probably would’ve killed someone if he had.”

The news of Eddie being blatantly disrespected and cheated on like that didn’t sit well with you, either, and you realized that you knew nothing about this woman, how long they’d been together, and why it ended. You had to run your tray of drinks over to a table, and Katie ordered another whiskey sour while she waited.

You checked on other tables, and then on your way back to Katie at the bar, you saw Steve come in. He was an hour late, but he’d already called to let Shanna know, and one look at him told you why he was late.

While normally Steve had a charming, cheerful disposition, tonight his jaw was set at a hard angle, his eyes cold and weary. He was favoring his right hand, holding hit against his stomach. It was wrapped up, but poorly, as if he’d done it himself in a rush, red/orange seeping through at the knuckles. Normally, Steve would saunter over to see what the girls were gossiping about at the bar, and be eager to give his two cents. But, that night, he found his stool, and prepared to do nothing above the bare minimum required for his job. He lit a cigarette and checked ID’s, but made no move to add any banter to his interactions.

And no one bothered him or asked any questions because they were all realizing, perhaps for the first time, how scary he was once all of the casual, jovial exterior was removed.

----------

The rain was drizzling that night as Robin sat in her car facing the seedy motel on Chestnut, planning her words. She dropped off Oliver with Wayne for the night, and when they got there, Wayne already had cartoons on and some pigs-in-a-blanket in the oven; his face lighting up in a way they all thought the cancer had long ago removed.

Behind the wheel, facing room 11, here were two manila envelopes in her lap: one was full of cash and the other contained official government paperwork. She had a private savings account she’d been trickling money into for years. Even then, it only had about six grand in it. She pawned some of the gold jewelry her grandmother passed down to her, and a few other keepsakes she’d been saving to pass down to Oliver, and the final product was the best offer Tina would ever get from them. They were usually able to buy her off for a year or so with a grand or two, so ten grand should make her eyes sparkle long enough to sign away her rights to Ollie.

Steve and Katie had no idea what she was up to. Steve would’ve tried to stop her. He would’ve showed up and caused a scene, and his temper would get the best of him. Robin was calm. The only endgame that mattered to her was keeping Oliver safe and in her arms, and she didn’t care how broke she was or how low she had to grovel to make that happen.

She could see them through the window between the break in the curtains. Tina with her curly black hair, long and wild, wearing a tight, red spandex dress, and then her fiance Louis, shirtless, wiry muscles littered with prison ink. They appeared to be in the middle of an argument, but that was nothing new; they both thrived on chaos.

Robin also had a gun.

She strapped her bag across her body and reached in to palm the cool steel of Steve’s protection piece he usually kept in a safe in the closet. There was always the chance that Tina and Louis would try to jump her and take the money without following through on the paperwork, but she wasn’t going to let that happen; her plan was solid.

This bullshit would end tonight.

---------

It was so early in the morning when Steve’s bike rumbled around the corner to Astrid’s house that it was still dark. He dismounted right next to the dilapidated picket fence with the chipped white paint, and looked up to see that she was already on the porch in her nightgown, arms wrapped in a shawl, waiting for him. He hadn’t called to tell her he was on his way, in fact, it had been a last second decision as he idled at a stop light on his way home after work.

Steve needed comfort, and for some reason, Astrid always knew how to give it without him needing to ask.

“How’s your hand?” She asked across the lawn, even though he’d taken the bandage off and, from that distance, in the dark, there’s no way she could’ve known it was swollen and fleshly with raw patches.

He didn’t answer, he just came through the gate and made his way at a tired pace toward her, clomping up each step in his heavy boots, wallet chain jangling.

“Let me see,” she said, holding out her hand, palm up, for him to oblige. She hissed at the damage, and when she tapped his middle finger, he winced. “Honey, we need to get this cleaned and bandaged properly. It might even need a splint. Come inside. I put a beer in the freezer.” She always moved a beer from the refrigerator to the freezer when she had a hunch he was on his way so that it would be extra cold for him. She also had leftovers heating in the oven because it was typical of him to forget to eat.

Once inside the house, while he followed her through the candlelit living room to the kitchen, Steve caught her elbow and spun her around. Astrid’s eyes sought his, trying to anticipate his needs, but then what she found there was exhaustion, both emotional and physical, and a palpable sense of dread. Of fear that life would always take and never give. That time would continue to accomplish nothing but to wear us down and break our hearts.

He bowed his head, and then he dropped to his knees, arms wrapping around her legs, cheek pressing into her thigh, a sob hitching in his chest. He loved the fullness of her stomach and hips, the way his fingers sank in. She used both hands to comfort him, one stroking his cheek that was already damp, while the other combed through his thick head of hair, gently tucking strands behind his ear, tracing down the back of his neck.

She lowered to her shins and met him on the hardwood floor, scooping his head against her bosom while his shoulders jerked and the tears rolled. She was the only person Steve let himself cry in front of. Maybe only once or twice it had happened around Robin, and he always left the room to pull himself together. His father had drilled it hard into his head that crying was a weakness and it made you less of a man. It turned you into a sissy boy or a faggot, as if that were the worst thing, and set you up to be bullied and teased for days to follow. Better to yell, better to hit things, and make other people afraid so that they could be just as sad as you.

Wordlessly, they held each other there for a long while, as Steve choked on sobs and Astrid kissed the top of his head over and over, content to stay like that for hours if that was what he needed. After a bit, there were tears streaming down her cheeks as well.

"You're safe with me," she hushed.

-----

Eddie extended you an open offer to stay with him whenever you wanted, he even casually mentioned that he planned to have another spare key made so that you could come in and make yourself at home even if he wasn’t there.

Giving someone a key to your place was no small step in a relationship, and your heart swelled at the sincerity of the gesture.

But, you decided to go back to your place after your shift at the Hammer. You were tired, needed a shower, and some time to yourself. Plus, your cat Charlie had a lot of questions about where you were the night before.

Just as you were getting home, Katie was headed back out, her pajama bottoms still on. Apparently, she’d received a call from Robin that spooked her a bit, and made her want to go and check on her girlfriend, even though she had to be up early for work. She was in such a hurry, you didn’t have time to ask any questions, but you hoped that Robin was okay.

After washing your face and getting into something more comfortable, you were just about to sit on the couch to let television numb your brain for a bit when the doorbell rang.

Eddie’s head was bowed when you opened the door, one knee cocked out to the side, thumb hooked in his belt loop while the other fingers fanned out on his thigh.

“It’s a little late to be visited by a Bible salesman, isn’t it?” You teased.

Eddie met your eyes and leaned forward to brace his forearm on the door jam, white tee straining against his muscles just under the cut of his Coffin Kings leather. Not for the first time, you noticed the War Machine insignia on the front and realized you kept forgetting to ask him about it.

“I waited up,” he mumbled. “I hoped you’d come over tonight.”

“Work was exhausting, and I needed to feed my cat,” you explained. “But I’m glad to see you. Come in?”

Eddie couldn’t get what had happened that morning out of his mind, and the last thing he wanted to do was give Melanie any more of his precious air, but he also didn’t want you to think he had any residual feelings for her.

The living room was dark, but for a soft light from the kitchen and glow of the TV, when you tilted your chin up to meet his lips with yours. You didn’t stay there to kiss him, though---you didn’t linger with hungry sighs like you were prone to do—you just spun on your heel to head back around the couch.

Eddie let the screen door shut behind him as he grabbed your waist with both hands. “Hey now, don’t run away from me,” he came up behind so that your body was flush with his. His mouth came down to graze your ear, “tell me you fucking missed me.”

“Of course I missed you,” you tried to shrug away from him, albeit playfully, but he was too strong; you were completely locked in place. “I always miss you.”

He released you only so you could turn to face him again, reaching up to cup your hands behind his neck, fingers dipping into the downy hair behind his ears. The kiss that came next was the kind that sent emergency bells off in your loins; tongues twirling each other, tight groans on the exhale.

You pulled back to meet his eyes before you were completely incapacitated again. “Please tell me you’re not planning on meeting up with your ex this weekend?”

“Hell no,” he responded quickly, a tightness in his brow as if it were ludicrous for you to even ask. “Believe me baby, if I never see her face again, it will be too soon.”

“What are we even doing?” You asked, throwing your hands out to the side as you stepped back to rest your hip on the back of the couch. “I mean, look at us. We’ve barely known each other for two months and everything that possibly could go wrong has. It’s just one stressful situation after the next. I’m exhausted, Eddie, and I’m sure you are too.”

Eddie brought his chin back and crossed one arm over to hold his bicep. “Are you breaking up with me? Is that what this is?”

“No,” you coughed a laugh. Surely he didn’t think he could get rid of you that easily. “Believe me, I couldn’t stop being in love with you at this point even if I wanted to.”

A smile twitched on Eddie’s lips, and he came close, straddling your hips between his legs, taking your face in both of his hands. He kissed the tip of your nose, the look in his eye was tender but serious. “She never had my heart like you do. I’ve never felt this way about anyone, ever. I’d kill or die for you, baby.”

Clothes started to come off right there at the couch, but then you remembered that Katie might not stay at Robin’s and could be home any moment, and so you moved the party to your bedroom with Eddie’s belt undone and your shirt bunched up around your neck.

Eddie was on his knees with his head between your legs in a flash, flicking his tongue right where you needed it, making you fist his hair and bite your lip as you watched.

After the first orgasm, you were on your side while Eddie held your leg up and sunk his cock in over and over, hips clapping at your wetness. You turned your head to take his mouth while he stretched you out again and again, making you whimper, and your wrist flexed at your swollen nub, another release mounting.

“Oh godohgodohgod,” you whined. Eddie’s cock slipped out briefly, and when he thrust it back in, you began to see stars.

You looked up at him as your body rocked from the impact, “no one has ever been so deep, baby,” you promised, and the admission brought Eddie to the edge, twisting you to piston his hips faster.

He barked a groan of pleasure as he emptied himself inside of you, holding one of your legs up by the crook of his arm, and your walls clenched around him, producing a mingling of cum on his shaft.

Still inside of you, Eddie grabbed your chin so that your blown pupils could meet his. “I’ve never loved anyone like I love you,” he said, sealing the words in your mouth with a kiss, hoping to bury them deep in your heart.

-------

Hundreds of miles away, a phone next to a full ashtray and a tumbler of whiskey was ringing.

Before the second ring, a guy with a military insignia tattooed on his forearm picked up.

“Yo,” the voice on the other end greeted. “This Craig?”

“Yeah, dumbass, who else would it be?” Craig answered gruffly.

The other guy cleared his throat. “It’s Gopher. Hey, listen, that chick you’ve been trying to track down? I had my guy look her up at the database over at the station. She ain’t in no Oregon, man. She’s in some podunk town in fucking Indiana.”

Craig sat down on the bed next to the gun he was cleaning, eyes hooded, blonde hair in a buzz cut. “You sure it’s the right girl? My girl?”

“No doubt about it man. She just had her license renewed.”

Craig pulled a notepad and pen out of the top drawer. “You got an address for me?”

“She’s got a roommate. Katie Clayton I think her name was.”

“Fuck, of course,” Craig worked his jaw, excitement edging in his veins. All this time he’d been nosing around in the pacific northwest while you were only a state away, right under his nose.

He should've known you’d never want to be too far away from him. A love like the two of you shared never died.

Part 13

Thank you for reading! xoxoxoxo

-------

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[avonne-writes]

I’d love your thoughts on gales relationship w his father in any of ur modern AUs + how John reacts to/fits into it!!

Thank you so much ❤️ Great question! I will describe their relationship in the high school AU, because the others are not yet defined in my head.

In the HS AU:

Gale's dad is often drunk or at a bar in the evening and gets home in the middle of the night

If he’s drunk at home, he keeps Gale up, if he gets home at night, he wakes him up by being too loud

So Gale has sleep problems. Because of this, he sleeps at Bucky’s as often as possible, which usually means every weekend and sometimes during the week too

When Gale’s dad has a bad night gambling, he gets verbally aggressive, berates Gale and his mom, blames them for bad luck etc. Bucky told Gale to call him even during the night if this happens. Gale never does, but the thought that he could feels really comforting to him.

Gale's dad isn’t overtly homophobic and he doesn’t threaten Gale for being gay. But all Gale's life, he has been saying stuff about what a real man should look like and how he should behave. The older Gale gets, the more he disagrees with the man’s ideas. This is why he grows out his hair.

A few times, Gale’s dad hit him when drunk. Bucky helped hide the bruises with his mom's make-up.

Gale asks his mom to get a divorce multiple times, but she's always torn about it and if she tells Gale's dad she's going through with it, the man sobers up for a while and acts all nice and decent to keep them.

When he starts drinking again after a nice period, Gale goes to Bucky and just lies in complete, silent defeat in his embrace.

He tells Bucky he’s moving out as soon as possible and will never go back.

None of their friends know about all this, they just know he fights with his parents and spends a lot of time hanging out at Bucky’s place.

He goes to the school psychologist every week, and Bucky always waits for him, often kicking a soccer ball around in the schoolyard. If Gale had a session that shook him / left him drained, he sits on a bench and Bucky shows him tricks with the ball and plays around until Gale smiles again.

Gale's parents almost never attend school events / swim meets / competitions.

Gale's mom is so caught up in her own struggles that she uses him as a crutch too in dealing with his dad. Gale is used to taking this responsibility on his shoulders but as he gets older, and especially after meeting Bucky's mom, he realizes that this is not how it should be and he grows resentful. It’s perhaps unfair but he resents her more than his dad and then feels guilty for it.

Gale loves Bucky's mom and she loves him too. One day, when he has a crisis, she tells her that she'll always be there for him, even if he and Bucky break up.

Bucky's mom is a single parent and is away a lot due to work (which feeds into one of Bucky's problems, but that's a different story). But she's laidback about a lot of things and doesn’t try to hold Bucky back from exploring, so it's not really an issue when they start having sex. There’s none of that bullshit "open door policy".

Gale categorically refuses to take Bucky home with him. They've been dating for like two years or something already when he lets Bucky enter the house with him for the first time.

By the time this happens, Bucky is taller than Gale's dad. He’s gangly but he’s not intimidated by the man. Him being all protective actually makes Gale feel a mix of affection and arousal.

There’s definitely an altercation between Bucky and Gale's dad at one point, possibly close to graduation, but Bucky disengages when he realizes that it makes Gale upset.

Bucky helps Gale learn how to relax and enjoy things. Gale reassures Bucky that Gale is someone he can always count on and who won't abandon him.

[beansricejc]

Headcanon: Keanu Reeves's characters as University Students.

what an amazing prompt omfg! CW: cursing, implied homophobia, vulgar descriptions of drug use

JOHN CONSTANTINE - Religious Studies / Parapsychology. His parents would roll their eyes and friends would laugh at such a degree to work towards. “You’re kidding.” John’s dad would grumble, scoffing as his swigs a beer. “You might as well just become a priest and swear off chasin’ tail. What the fuck even is… parapsycholo-“

“I’d be studying psychic or paranormal phenomena, for your information.” John would groan, snatching his dad’s cigarette box from the porch table and lighting one up. His father, an even more cynical asshole (if you can believe it) than him, laughed in disbelief.

“You’re seriously wasting your prime years on bein’ a ghostbuster?” His dad snickered, then calling John an unsavory, homophobic slur, as per usual. These talks he has with his father always end up with one of them getting a bloody nose and their ass kicked. This time, it’s his drunk of a father.

Who knew that would end up helping him in the long run, with casting demons out of little girls and helping twins in the afterlife?

KEVIN LOMAX - Law/Finance. Of course this big shot lawyer is going to have a law degree, duh. But I also envision something else. I can picture Kevin pulling a Jordan Belfort, scamming rich fools into investing into shitty companies. Money laundering, tax evasion, snorting cocaine out of a hired woman’s ass, all at the top of a sky scraper in the financial district in the Big Apple. He definitely skipped class to sleep in or recover from a previous night’s partying. It didn’t matter though, Kevin is stupidly smart and hardly needs to study to pass any sort of exam.

NEO - Computer Programming. Do I even have to explain this one? Late nights, redbull, he’s gotta pass somehow, and these classes are making Neo work for it.

JACK TRAVEN/JOHNNY UTAH - Criminal Justice. These boys in blue were at the top of their class at their respective programs, Utah for the FBI, and Traven for the LAPD police academy. It always helps to have a bit of book smarts to go along with their pretty faces.

JOHN WICK - Our favorite Russian assassin didn’t go to college, we already know this. However, if he did, I can see our man going in for a History or English degree. Years pass and he graduates, getting a job at some middle school out of state to get far away from his past life as he can. Mr. Wick is a fantastic teacher, the boys think he’s cool as hell and the girls think he’s scary but unfortunately he knows what he’s doing. Mr. Wick has already promised himself never to mix personal life with his job, just like he did in the past when he did hits for a living. That is until parent-teacher conferences happen at the end of the semester. When one of his favorite kiddos brings in their single mom, and he can barely hold it together in front of her.

Embarrassing.

[funnypages]

Conclave: The Surprise Movie Recommendation of October

So this is not at all what I would usually share on here, but if you looking for a movie to see with some of you older family, especially with the holidays coming up next few months, I definitely recommend you check out Conclave, a political thriller/mystery set during the election of a new pope, based of a 2016 novel by Robert Harris

Basic plot: Cardinal Thomas Lawrence (Ralph Fiennes) is a cardinal of the liberal faction in the Roman Catholic Church, who receives news that the current pope (unnamed but heavily modeled after current Pope Francis) has died. As Dean of the College of Cardinals, it is Lawrence's responsibility to organize and manage the papal conclave during which the cardinals of the Church will be sequestered within the Sistine Chapel and elect the new pope.

Going into the conclave the 4 main candidates for pope are:

Cardinal Goffredo Tedesco (Sergio Castellitto) - An Italian cardinal from the extremely conservative traditionalist faction of the church, who wishes to undue all reforms the Catholic Church has initiated since the 1960s; and is a racist, fundamentalist, homophobe. The closest thing to a villain the movie has

Cardinal Joshua Adeyemi (Lucian Msamati) - A Nigerian cardinal, who while a liberal on economic issues and not wanting to roll back all reforms, is a hardliner against acceptance of LGBT+ issues.

Cardinal Joseph Tremblay (John Lithgow) - A Canadian Conservative (although arguably more of a centrist), who has been machinating for months prior to the old pope's death to be elected, and will do anything to make sure it happens

Cardinal Aldo Bellini (Stanley Tucci) - An American cardinal who is a friend of Lawrence and the late pope. The candidate for the liberal/reform faction; he wants to improve relations with non-Christian religions, moderate the church on abortion and LGBT+ issues, and open to allowing women in the clergy. Although more sympathetic than the conservative candidates, we come to discover he is just as power hungry as them for the papacy.

As Lawrence tries to manage the election (while also supporting his friend as neutral as possible), he finds himself trying to investigate conspiracies, coverups, blackmail; and the appearance of a mysterious cardinal nobody has met before, but was appointed by the pope in secret prior to his death.

The movie is incredibly well acted and shot; and while quite critical of the Catholic Church at times; quite sympathetic in actual religious belief. I have seen some very pissed of reviews complaining about it being "woke" but while it is definitely on the side of the liberal faction, both Tremblay and Adeyemi get sympathetic moments. Although the "woke" accusations probably come mostly from the final twist. Won't give it away, but the movie says Queer Rights.

If you are still curious, I recommend checking out the trailer. It actually does a really good job of not spoiling anything but mixing around lines and scenes.

[futuremrscameron]

obx sexuality hcs

kiara: lesbian (homoerotic middle school friendship nearly killed her)

pope: bi

jj: gay or bi (irdgaf)

sarah: queer (despite popular beliefs cleo was her gay awakening)

cleo: pansexual (her and sarah definitely had something going on in the bahamas)

john b: token straight of the crew

rafe: no one knows but he's dating barry (surprises everyone cause he's very homophobic)

barry: gay (surprisingly NOT homophobic)

topper: straight but had a crush on rafe in middle school

kelce: either straight or gay (i really don't know he gives me either or vibes like damn nigga be bisexual)

sofia: surprisingly straight (girl magnet)

[borrelia]

Sonic Old Man Yaoi/Old Woman Yuri Knockout

TWO pairings with the LEAST votes will be eliminated

Intros to each pairing below

Gerald Robotnik was Eggman's grandfather, introduced in Sonic Adventure 2. He made a false deal with Black Doom to create Shadow the Hedgehog in exchange for the Chaos Emeralds, making them both Shadow's dads. They definitely banged and had some kind of toxic mess of a relationship.

Grimer Wormtongue is a nasty little assistant to Ivo Robotnik in Fleetway Sonic the Comic. He is extremely devoted to his cruel master, which is for sure a sexual thing.

Ebony the Mystic Mog and Pyjamas the Psychic are two characters from Sonic the Comic who appear briefly in a Knuckles story, then become minor recurring characters that take in Super Sonic from the streets. They appear as old friends in their introduction and are implied to live together. If these two aren't married, it's only because Mobius is homophobic.

Blockhead Bill is Mighty's dad in Sonic the Comic. He is a very confused old man who convinces his posh "business associate" Society Max to assist him in taking down his nemesis the Crimson Cobra. This involves Max eating a magic mandrake root and becoming a giant dinosaur, which Bill rides around to cause destruction. idk about you but I'd only let someone do that to me if they were my funny little lover.

Mephiles the Dark and Iblis are two halves of the sun/time god Solaris, introduced in Sonic '06. Iblis is kind of just a big fire monster I think but Mephiles orchestrates this whole plot through the course of the game to re-merge with Iblis and form Solaris. Which sounds like some pretty twisted villainous gay devotion to me.

Ixis Naugus and Ian St. John are characters from the Archie Sonic the Hedgehog comics. Naugus is some kind of evil wizard who enlists the help of Geoffrey St. John, Ian's son, with plot things. I can't decipher Archie plots sorry. When Naugus first contacts Geoffrey, he expects him to be his father Ian. From @mischeva: "why are you wanting to talk to geoffrey’s dad? hm naugus? kinda….kinda interesting." Image also provided by mischeva, ty :)

Starline and Eggman were allowed in by popular vote, mostly by Eggman's qualifying age. Dr. Starline is a character from the IDW Sonic the Hedgehog comic. He is a fanboy and devotee of Eggman, restoring Eggman's lost memories and assisting him in his Metal Virus plot. Starline eventually plots to betray Eggman, as he believes himself smarter and more genre-savvy than his idol. He is of course wrong and Eggman beats the shit out of him and kills him to death. Starline is sort of like gen z's Grimer, kind of the tumblr sexyman dark academia Grimer, in that he's younger and prettier than Grimer, but he probably still wants to fuck that old man so bad.

[lisbeth-kk]

Sherlock fandom. Parentlock.

Not my colour

They’re both excited when Rosie announces that she’ll visit them in Sussex for the first time. She’s travelled the world with Doctors Without Borders for five years now, and it’s been easier to meet up in London, whenever she’s come back for a short period of time.

Rosie’s got two weeks off and will stay with them for at least three or four days she’d said. John’s fussing nervously, muttering under his breath, twitching his hands, making Sherlock tense up as well. 

“Why are you so nervous?” Sherlock growls in frustration, making a mess of his salt and peppery coloured curls.

“I’m not nervous!” John insists petulantly.

“Are too,” Sherlock murmurs.

“What was that?” John inquires, but Sherlock’s already headed for his beehives at the far end of the garden. 

“I heard you,” John states to the now empty kitchen. 

***

John’s heart flutters with excitement when he’s waiting for Rosie’s train to arrive. His left hand holds on to Sherlock’s for dear life. When Sherlock ghosts his lips over John’s temple, his heart skips a beat. Sherlock’s proximity still fills John with expectation, love and desire. He turns his face upwards and pecks Sherlock’s lips softly. The smile he receives is genuine and radiant, and John’s pulse slows a bit.

“I love you,” John whispers and lets his thumb stroke Sherlock’s knuckles. 

“I love you too, John,” Sherlock says and pulls John to his chest.

They both sigh contentedly lost in their own bubble of bliss. 

A familiar voice startles them.

“Daddy. Papa!”  

How they’re able to lock everything out like this, still baffles John.

***

After dinner, they seat themselves in the garden. Rosie wanders around admiring the flower beds, Sherlock’s beehives and the vegetable section. She joins them after a while and takes the bottle of beer John offers her. 

“So, how was Morocco?” Sherlock asks her. 

She narrows her eyes at him, and when he winks, she chuckles.

“Uncle Myc still looks out for me, then?” she inquires.

“Please, Rosebud, he’s more concerned about you than all the rest of us combined,” Sherlock says with his normal dramatic flair. 

“Don’t you dare tell him, or you’ll have no fathers to visit the next time you’re home,” John says mirthfully. 

“Oh, I’m sure uncle Greg can prevent that,” Rosie retorts. 

“Hardly,” Sherlock huffs. “Now, Morocco?”

“Before I tell you anything about my trip, do you remember the little pink houses Molly bought for my sixth birthday?”

Both men nod and smile at the memory. 

“You wanted to paint them,” John says. 

“I did! Pink never was my colour. Not then, not now. Blue and purple however…”

Rosie gets a dreamy look on her face and a smile form on her lips. 

“You visited Chefchaouen!” Sherlock exclaims and sits up straight, leaning forward, lest he miss a word. 

Rosie leans toward him and squeezes his hand before she continues her story from the blue city of Morocco.

“I fell in love with that place. Its beauty is beyond belief. All those shades of blue enthralled me, and quite a few of the houses had the same shape as my toy houses. I wandered the streets for hours. It was like walking inside a fairytale book. And that’s when I decided to come home. For good. All this travelling, being stuck in dangerous places…well, it’s taken its toll, and besides…”

“You’re in love, aren’t you?” John says softly. 

Sherlock looks at him with awe. How had he missed observing the changes in Rosie? He’s always had a blind spot when it came to the Watsons in his life. 

“Yes,” Rosie confirms with a broad grin. “Becca. She’s not particularly fond of pink either. Good match!”

“Ah,” Sherlock says thoughtfully. “I guess it’s not your childhood friend Rebecca Stuart, then.”

“Barbie-Becca, you mean? Definitely not!” Rosie says with emphasis. 

“She’s the biggest homophobe I’ve ever come across. Met her last year at Heathrow. Wanted to know if you two still were together.”

Rosie rolls her eyes dramatically.

“Do you know what she said when I told her you’ve moved here?”

Rosie clearly doesn’t expect an answer but stands up abruptly to get into character. John grabs Sherlock’s hand and looks expectantly at their daughter who’s determined to bestow them with a little performance. She clears her throat and when she speaks, her voice is higher pitched than normal, with a cockney accent. 

“I bet their cottage is painted pink! Who’s the man in the relationship? I bet it’s Sherlock. He’s the tall one, yeah? No wonder you chose to live abroad. I’d die if my father where to play for the other team.”

“I wish I could’ve shown you a photo of her expression when I told her I was gay,” Rosie says in her normal voice. “She’ll need therapy for the foreseeable future after this, I think. You never know if sexual orientation is contagious…”

“Just say the word, and I’ll have a talk with Mycr…”

“Out of the question!” both Watsons say in unison, happily unaware that Sherlock’s phone has been switched to recording mode…

@flashfictionfridayofficial @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno @a-victorian-girl @phoenix27884 @peanitbear @safedistancefrombeingsmart @gregorovitchworld @raina-at @helloliriels @topsyturvy-turtely @sabsi221b

[inevitably-johnlocked]

hi, honey! do you have any boat/ship fics?

Hi Lovely!!

Here are the fics I have that take place on a Boat or a Ship of some kind! Literally just what I can remember in the moment, PLEASE add more if you guys have them! I've also added fics on my MFL list that have the tags :)

BOATS / SHIPS

Baetica Series by Jberry (E, 17,943 w. across 2 works || Post-S3, Fake Marriage For a Case, Cruise Ship, Homophobic Language, Developing Relationship) – John Watson and Sherlock Holmes must solve a case on a cruise ship. To get close to the crew and passengers, they must get married for the case on the Baetica. However, their relationship hits rocky seas both due to the case and internal conflicts.

The Kepler Problem by kinklock (E, 24,270 w., 1 Ch. || Sci-Fi AU || Alien Sherlock, Space Repairman John, Alien Biology, Horny John) – Working in uncharted space exploration was not as exciting as John had hoped, especially when it turned out to be mostly bot maintenance on uninhabited planets. However, the mystery of the repeated, unexplained malfunctions on planet BAK 2212 might turn out to be exactly the kind of adventure he'd been craving.

SpaceBois go to Space Series by elldotsee (E, 62,028+ w. across 3 works || Series WiP || Astronaut / Space AU || Scientist Sherlock, Biomedical Engineer John, Sherlock is William, Astronauts, Close Quarters, Shy Sherlock, Space Travel, Mutual Pining, Chemistry, Developing Relationship, Minor Injuries, Suicidal Ideation, Whump, Flirting, Angst with Happy Ending, Mars Colonization, Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Zero-Gravity Sex, Alternating POV, UST/URT) – Will Holmes is a chemical researcher recognized widely for his contributions to the new Mars exploration program. Thanks to his ground-breaking developments, the IMMC (International Mars Mission Corporation) is one step closer to Martian colonization. Will and his team of scientists are headed out on the first of three manned missions before the first group of settlers arrive. Three days before launch, one of the crew has to be replaced. Will panics because...new people. The replacement is of course one John Watson, biomedical engineer and space hottie who was pretty sure he had retired from actual space exploration and was now content to work in the nice, quiet research lab. Can the crew survive this TOTALLY ROUTINE trip? Will they be able to endure each other for the looooooong trip in close quarters?

A Further Sea by i_ship_an_armada & ShinySherlock (E, 125,492 w., 23 Ch. || Historical Pirates AU || Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Doctor John / Pirate Captain Sherlock, Sailing, UST / RST, Masturbation, Action / Adventure, Mild Angst & Peril, Romance, Shaving, Molly/Janine, Bottomlock, Hand / Blow Jobs, Past Drug Use, Slow Burn, Mild Violence, Facial Shaving, Happy Ending) – Here be a tale of adventure for both body and soul, but beware if ye be not of stout heart, for this be piratelock, ya savvy? Luckless ship's surgeon John Watson takes a chance, and finds himself eye to eye with The Ghost, the scourge of the seven seas and a definite thorn in the side of the blaggard, James Moriarty. But when John finds there's more to this most cunning pirate than be meetin' the eye, he has to choose... is it a pirate's life for him?

MARKED FOR LATER

My, She Was Yar by blueink3 (M, 5,313 w. || Teenlock Cinema AU || Mention of Sex for Drugs, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending) – YAR: adjective; (nautical term, of a sailboat) agile, quick, easily manoeuvred. Or, the exact opposite of what Sherlock Holmes is when he stumbles into John Watson's cinema and turns his life upside down. Part 7 of the Tumblr Prompts series

Below Zero by Calais_Reno (M, 10,912 w., 2 Ch. || End of the World AU || Falling in Love, Antartica, Space Station, Pandemic, Heavy Angst, Loneliness, Love, Hopeful Ending) – 10,000 miles south of London, John Watson sits in a research station in Antarctica. 210 miles above London, Sherlock Holmes is floating in a space station. They are Earth’s only survivors.

Rigging screws, size 1 3/8 inch, galvanised by AJHall (T, 15,250 w., 6 Ch. || Case Fic, Boat Safety) – On the eve of a planned voyage to Brittany, Marjorie Jameson starts her day with no problems more pressing than forcing a boatyard to do an emergency repair to the family yacht. A chance encounter at the Cowes hi-speed ferry terminal begins to unravel a web of conspiracy and murder, with her charming, untrustworthy husband Julian right at the centre and Marjorie as the next intended victim. But no-one's going to trust the word of an aging housewife whose complaints of abuse the police have previously dismissed as delusions.

The One Where Sherlock Doesn’t Ruin John’s Holiday by nutmeag83 (T, 18,898 w., 11 Ch. || Pre-TRF / S2 Timeline, Friends to Lovers, Cruise Ships, Vacation / Holidays, Fake Relationship, For Science, Bed Sharing, Cuddling/Snuggling, Mutual Pining, John POV, Minor Case Fic, Cooking, Dancing, Drunk Shenanigans) – John wins a cruise vacation for two and brings Sherlock along. But when it turns out to be a couples cruise, they have to pretend to be a couple themselves (for science). How many pretend kisses will it take before they can’t deny their feelings any longer?

To Belong Series by DrFish (T, 19,400+ w. across 4 works || Series WiP || Victorian / Mythical AU || OctoJohn, Scientist Sherlock, Attempted Kidnapping, BAMF John, Protective / Possessive John, Developing Relationship, Being Lost, Size Difference, Capital Punishment, Happy Ending) – William Sherlock Scott Holmes failed to graduate the University of Cambridge class of 1877. Adrift in London, he accepts a post as assistant naturalist on a scientific expedition to the Western Pacific Ocean aboard Her Majesty's Sailing Ship Frontier. Events do not proceed quite as planned and Sherlock finds himself cruelly cast away by his shipmates. Perhaps he will find salvation in the company of a most unlikely sea creature.

If I had a boat I would sail to you by Sunnyrea (E, 20,576 w., 1 Ch. || Titanic Fusion) – John is completely different and special from anyone Sherlock would normally come in contact with - no talk of money and hidden family secrets, no surface, superfluous conversations and blatant lies. John was the most honest person in less than five minutes Sherlock has ever met. He wants to know everything else there is to know about John Watson.

A Piece of Eight Series by by KtwoNtwo (T, 30,562+ w. across 5 works || Series WiP || One Piece Space AU || Character Study, Space Pirates) – Mankind has spread out through the galaxy on ships with solar sails and jump drives. Here be tales about a particular sector of the galaxy where the Commonwealth of New Britannia is adjacent to a gravitational anomaly commonly referred to as the Red Line. Avast all ye spacers, batten down the hatches and prepare for interesting weather; its a space AU crossover between One Piece and Sherlock.

Riptide Lover by jinglebell (E, 114,090 w., 20 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE|| Merfolk & Victorian AU || Mermaid Sherlock, Human John, BAMF John/Sherlock, Possessive Sherlock, Oral Sex, Hand Jobs, Mild Gore, Dubious Interspecies Consent, Stockholm Syndrome, Dark Romance, Dubcon and Morality, Rough Sex, Abstract Mentions of Rape, Size Queen, Switchlock, Foot Fetish) – The year is 1866. When John becomes swept overboard, he never expects to encounter a living creature of myth. When the merman absconds with John, the lost sailor must use every tool at his disposal to convince Sherlock not to kill him. But it seems that killing John Watson is not what the deadly, beautiful creature has in mind at all...

Over Fathoms Deep by bittergreens (E, 486,840+ w., 61/? Ch. || WiP || Historical / Regency / Sailing AU || Sailor!John / Aristocrat!Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Virgin Sherlock, Sailing, Bottomlock, UST / RST, Hand/Blow Jobs, Frottage, Masturbation, Happy Ending, Anal) – When the youngest son of the aristocratic Holmes family is shipped off to sea in an attempt to cure him of his poor temper and bad manners, he fully expects to spend a long tedious voyage as miserable as ever. What he does not count on is having his heart stolen by the strapping young crewman, John Watson.

[sammygender]

accidentally secret gay ally john winchester is still my funniest invention. johns actively thinking If Sam’s gay i’ll still love him why would i care i have bigger things to worry about with him than that. like him reading books. deans actively thinking Fuck fuck shit sam’s probably gay because he reads books and dad’s definitely homophobic because he hates sam reading books. sam doesn’t know gay people exist. he just wants to read his fucking books

[brotherwtf]

https://www.tumblr.com/brotherwtf/764161646393442304/for-the-angsty-ideas-what-about-clegan-mutual?source=share

I also wanna add reincarnation to this in modern setting this time.

Jhon always had dreams of a figure who is beautiful with blonde hair and blue eyes, slender figure but he couldn't really see the face or hear the voice and is walking away from him and Jhon tries really hard to say something but it feels like his vocal cords have gotten mute and he starts struggling and wakes up! He's been having this dream ever since he was born. So he was always looking for this angel, and he assumes it's a girl and has always dated girls with blonde hair and blue eyes. But none of them were what he was looking for. He's not "homophobic or anything" because Curt, his best friend is gay. But he has never felt anything for a guy and has strongly believed his life partner is his angel, because only a girl can be that beautiful right?

Gale has also had similar dream but he knows the figure is a man because he was tall big and in his uninform. So Gale has always known he's gay. Marge is his best friend and they do everything together so much so that they enroll in the same college.

Jhon is a senior in the same college who's just watching all the first years coming in. He sees a blonde figure from afar and he has a very strange feeling he knows her and that she's probably the one he's been looking for and he approachs her trying to charm her but she's not having any of it and says "Sorry I have a boyfriend" and pulls a guy from the crowd "This is Gale, my boyfriend" and Jhon is speechless because he's certain his heart just stopped for a moment. But he manages to say "What kinda name is Gale? You remind me of my old friend Buck, so I'm gonna start calling you Buck" he doesn't even know where that came from but he's certain he has done this before and Gale and Marge look at eachother in confusion. Jhon introduces himself as Jhon "But everyone calls me Bucky". Marge immediately clocks in "So you're giving him your own name" in a teasing tone. Anyways that would be their first meeting. Jhon is now somehow convincing himself that his "angel" is Marge because she checks all the boxes but mostly because of his internalised homophobia. He tries to approach her again but honestly he doesn't even realise that he's looking for Gale instead. Whom he quickly learns is gay and Marge is just his best friend.

Long story short Jhon tries really hard to convince himself that he's not attracted to Gale, but he's just very pretty for a guy and tries to reason with Curt who calls him out on his bullshit. He and Gale become friends very easily obviously and Gale is falling in love but he knows that Jhon doesn't feel that way because he's the straightest mf ever and he has seen many times he has tried to hit on Marge (he just didn't know it was always more of an excuse to see Gale instead). So he decides to move on before he ends up in deep shit which might break his heart even more. Something something Jhon finally gets over his stupid Angel because he can't deny to himself anymore that he's in love with Gale. That night in his dreams he sees the angel, same with blonde hair and blue eyes but it has a face now. Shorter hair than he had imagined and a deep voice asking him "What took you long?" Jhon wakes up and he's feeling every emotion. He's happy that he has finally found his angel but is also very angry at himself that he couldn't see what was infront of him all this time. He finally decides to tell Gale his feelings but he sees Gale being really close with another guy and way too friendly for his liking..... Is he too late??? 🧐

damn shawty I love everything about this.... definitely thinking thoughts

reincarnation aus are SO FUCKING GOOD and I think we need to definitely definitely talk more about John and Gale finding each other in every single life because they DO!! THEY WILL FIND EACH OTHER IN EVERY LIFE

but I'm obsessed with this idea that John knows this soulmate of his will be blond hair and blue eyes, pretty lips and the most perfect waist, and so when he sees Gale and Marge together he's like "oh damn, she's perfect!" because Marge is a certified baddie and who doesn't want to be with her

Gale being smitten right away is such a Gale thing to do, who wouldn't fall in love with John's easy going personality and flirty nature? it's easy to see why Marge is also so smitten with John, and he can't help but feel jealous when John is immediately so taken with her as well, decides he's going to be a good friend and wingman to Marge and will help her be happy even if it means losing John to her

ughhh but him seeing Gale in his dreams, seeing glimpses of military dress and planes in the sky and being so so confused by it all, sees a blonde man smiling and laughing but can't quite place who it is, he looks awfully familiar and he can almost hear the sound of his laugh when he's with Marge and Gale, thinks he might recognize those piercing blue eyes when he's with them as well

and then one night he sees him, Gale, his best friend, Marges best friend, haloed in light and looking so damn charming in a flight suit and crushed cap, extending a gloved hand and asking what took him so long, and John wakes with a gasp, almost shouts in euphoria because he's found him, he's found his soulmate, and he's been right in front of him this whole time

but as you said anon, Gale's talking to another guy, another smooth talker like Gale, and he's hiding his laughs behind his hand like he did with John and flushing so prettily when he helps him with his homework and John's so so worried that he's too late, he's so worried that he's watching his soulmate slip through his fingers

I wanna make this classic romcom shit so imagine John running up to Gale one night, it's cold and raining but John just can't let Gale go, refuses to let his soulmate slip through his fingers again, and he confesses his love for him, says that even if Gale doesn't love him back John will still love him for a thousand lifetimes and more, he just had to tell him before it was too late

and Gale, of course, just stands there shocked at first, but surges forward instantly and captures John's lips in a kiss, clutching both sides of his head and kissing him like a desperate man, kisses him like he's starving, and oh, John could get used to this

this is such a fun concept, thank you anon!! this is making me want to write more reincarnation or soulmate stuff this is so fun

[livelaughlovelams]

OOO I found this crusty draft but I need to get back on AMREVBLR so...

(don't come at me I just wanted to post something oml)

One thing the whole Lams community gets fatally wrong is the relationship between Laurens and his father.

Sure, John and Henry had their differences, but they were actually fairly close. Gregory D. Massey even called John the favourite child!Was Henry a GREAT father? Heck no! But he did try, and he wasn't HORRIBLE at it. Just a bit forceful. Most of this fandom's hatred for Henry Laurens sparks from one thing: John's sexuality.

Yes, Henry Laurens was homophobic, and John Laurens was most likely a homosexual man. But we're forgetting that it was the 18th century. Homosexual acts were illegal, and you'd be arrested, severely punished, or even executed if you were found intimately with someone of the same sex, and definitely disgraced permanently. Period-typical homophobia really isn't the same as today's view. It's likely Henry had a slight guess that John wasn't interested in women, but you've got to understand how outrageous that was for the time. When John wrote to Henry about his wife, Henry was most likely relieved and stopped worrying about his son's sexuality altogether. Of course, Henry likely didn't know that John married her out of pity and just because he was a genuinely good lad.

A lot of media and fanfiction or just fan portrayals overall portray Henry as this cold, heartless being who despised his family with a burning passion, but that really isn't true. Henry mourned very deeply after John's death, and did the same after Eleanor, John's mother's death. He spent a lot of time with John, specifically in his teenage years when they were in London. Henry tried, he really did.

Henry DID put down his son's interests, however. It was clear from a young age that John was very interested in biology and plants, as well as art and medicine. If it wasn't for Henry, John would have likely become a painter, naturalist, or doctor after his career as a soldier. Yet, Henry pushed John to study law over his other subjects of interest, and so he did. This wasn't because these subjects were "gay" or "girly" as I've seen some people say. These really just weren't high paying or honorable careers for the time. Today a doctor would be very impressive. At the time, a doctor wouldn't have been seen majorly better than a maid. Is it wrong that Henry discouraged John from pursuing his interests and passions? Yes. Honestly, it is. But it's clear that Henry only wanted what was best for his son, even if he wasn't great at showing it.