#John/Paul

[pie-of-flames]

Beatles Vid: The Song We Were Singing

We always came back to the song we were singing. A McLennon vid made for @vidukon. Song is The Song We Were Singing! by Paul McCartney (1997).

On AO3

[drvision]

paul is camp? yes that was the reason for my breakdown, john Lennon how you drop that and don’t talk about it anymore

[theoldmixer]

I wish I knew how to quit you--Paul McCartney (probably) Inspired by the Brokeback Mountain trailer

[alba17]

Beatles Vid: The Song We Were Singing

We always came back to the song we were singing. An ode to John/Paul (and George and Ringo). Song by Paul McCartney from 1997. I didn't hear this song until a few months ago and I knew instantly I had to make a vid. This vid premiered at @vidukon this past weekend.

On AO3

Vidukon had so many truly amazing vids. Check them out on AO3: VidUKon Premieres 2024 and VidUKon Themed Vidshow Premieres 2024. The themes were Creation/Decay and Time Loops, which inspired some stunning vids. I don't think all the vids are on AO3. Maybe you can find more on the #vidukon tag here? Not sure.

[alameda444]

how many times can u rlly compare a friendship to a marriage before things start to get weird

[johnpaul-ao3-feed]

by oh_johnny

Written to fill this prompt: https://www.tumblr.com/beatleskinkmeme/741633582184923136/its-been-three-years-since-john-has-passed-paul?source=share

It's three years since John was murdered - he comes to visit Paul.

Note: This is not even remotely as fluffy as the prompt suggests but I think it works nonetheless.

Words: 1001, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: The Beatles (Band)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Major Character Death

Categories: F/M, M/M

Characters: John Lennon, Paul McCartney

Relationships: John Lennon/Paul McCartney, Paul McCartney/Linda McCartney (mentioned), John Lennon/Yoko Ono (mentioned)

Additional Tags: life after death, Beatles Kink Meme

[peaceloveandstarrs]

29 for a ship of your choice! 🥰 I trust your judgement

as a promise.

Paris, 1961

John gazed at Paul as Paul doodled in one of the many notebooks they'd brought on this trip, chatting happily with him. It felt good to be away from family, away from friends, just alone with his love. It was a bit cliché that they'd gone to the City of Love (it was called that, right?) to be together, but he didn't care. Point was, they were in a place where they could fully love each other. Alright, so they didn't go about holding hands and kissing in the streets, but they made up for that in private.

They spent their nights enjoying each other's bodies, hands and lips roaming as they made love in whatever position their young, creative minds could think of for as many rounds as they could handle. Then afterward, they cuddled in the tiny, almost too-small bed. They were sweaty from their rounds of passion, but that wasn't important. They were together in the most intimate way, and that was what mattered most. John loved the feeling he got when he would rest his head on Paul's chest and hear his heart pounding as gasps of breath rushed in and out of his lungs. Or vice versa. Or even when they were clothed and John caught Paul watching him with a soft expression in those doe-like eyes.

He felt love. Actual, real love, the kind he craved. Paul truly wanted him. Part of John was afraid to let himself reciprocate. People had loved him and left him. Surely Paul would do the same eventually. The dark voices in his mind said that he deserved it. If he didn't, then why had it happened? Why had so many people that supposedly loved him abandoned him? Why had his parents shoved him off onto his aunt if he didn't deserve abandonment? So as he rested his chin in his hand and continued to watch Paul draw, John felt the darkness coming over his mind again. He looked down at the table in front of him. It was suddenly too painful to look at Paul. Too painful to let himself love or be loved.

Paul looked up from his notebook, where he'd been doodling a myriad of different logos for the band. He was particularly proud of the way he'd made the last letter S into a treble clef and the B into a little drawing of a bug. Or even a little guitar. He rubbed his bleary eyes. How long had he been doing this? And... John had gotten awfully quiet, too. They'd been talking for the longest time. He didn't think anything of it. Maybe John had decided to read; he tended to get quiet when he was immersed in a novel. He looked over at the other side of the room and saw John's slumped, forlorn posture. He knew what was going on. Paul went over to John's table and sat beside him, heart aching when John turned away. He longed to pull John into his arms and kiss away whatever thought was in that beautiful mind of his, but he knew that wouldn't work. Not when John was so far into his mind that he wouldn't even talk.

So he sat there with his hands on top of the desk as though waiting for John to take one. Paul was good with words; he could figure out what to say. But it had to be just right. John deserved nothing less than the best. He deserved more love than Paul could possibly give. He pondered his words for a moment, nervously biting at his thumbnail. How to start this? Best to start simple.

“It isn't true, y'know.”

John looked up at Paul, almond-shaped eyes wide and soft. Paul could see the pain behind them, see that John had let that mask come down. In a strange way, it was an honor. After all, John didn't let very many people see this side of him. Paul would do anything to get into that mind and erase all of those thoughts, but he knew he couldn't. But he could try to make John see that he was worthy of love.

“What's not?”

“Whatever that mind of yers is telling ye,” Paul answered softly. He took the chance and reached to take John's hand. Much to his relief, John took it. Paul hung on, lacing their fingers together with a reassuring squeeze.

“How'd you know?”

“I know ye pretty well by now, I reckon. And look, ye don't have to tell me what's on yer mind if ye don't wanna. But just know, it's lyin' to ye.”

A long pause. John looked down and chewed on the inside of his lip. No way was he gonna cry. Scousers didn't cry. But Paul had read him like a book. And if he couldn't trust Paul, his love, who could he trust? So he gathered his composure and looked back up at Paul, blinking to get rid of the prickling sensation in his eyes.

“Might as well tell ye,” John mumbled morosely. “I... damn, I can't even bloody say it.”

“Take yer time. I'm not goin' anywhere without ye.”

John froze. There it was again, that strange, almost psychic connection that the two of them had shared from the moment they'd met. The ability for Paul to somehow read his mind or for him to read Paul's, both as lovers and bandmates. Paul had just told him exactly what he'd needed to hear without John even saying a word. His jaw dropped in awe. Paul was a miracle. An absolute miracle. And he was sure that thought showed in the way he was looking at Paul in that moment.

“Promise?” John whispered. Paul leaned in and kissed John tenderly. For a few seconds, minutes, who knew, John and Paul moved together in perfect synchronicity, lips pressing together softly and lovingly with each kiss. When Paul pulled away to catch his breath, he rested his forehead against John's.

“I promise, John. Wherever ye go, I'm comin' with ye. Lennon-McCartney forever, remember? And I promise, I'll love ye until the day I die. Nothin' will change that.”

John hugged Paul, clinging to him almost. Something somewhere inside of him shifted. He couldn't name what was going on, but something was changing in his soul.

Maybe, just maybe, he was healing.

[ringo-starr-daily]

All of the Beatles dying in a glue trap

[rpftourney]

Best RPF Ship - Round 6 Match 2

[loadingmercurywithapitchfork]

hey girl i mean jude

[pie-of-flames]

Instant Classics from Beatles Secret Santa

I hope everyone is devouring the bounty of fic that came out of this. I've only read a few so far, but most of the ones I've read are freaking Instant Classics that no one should miss.

Brian Manages (Sole Direction) by @crepesuzette2023: Brian lives-AU/ fix-it. This is a beautifully written imagining of how a Brian that survived might've dealt with the mysterious rift between John and Paul after India. It's from Brian's POV and we get a look into his individual relationship with each Beatle, as well as his unique insight into John and Paul's relationship and how he guides them back to each other. Amazing.

Our Version Of Events by @javelinbk 1971, Tittenhurst Park, Ascot. John discovers that fans have been writing stories about him and Paul, and it changes everything that he thought he knew about their relationship. In this wonderfully entertaining fic, John becomes obsessed with reading Beatles fan fic, which alone is hilarious and includes nods to some real fics/tropes. But what's really interesting about it are the insights John gains and how @javelinbk uses fan fic as a plot element beyond John's obsession. The theme is woven through the whole story, building to an extremely satisfying climax (no pun intended, or is it).

The Rumours by @merseydreams This was my gift! and even though I already reblogged it, I wanted to include it as an Instant Classic. During the Lost Weekend, John decides to start rumours that he's queer. Paul reacts. This fic includes some of my absolute favorite things, which is both John and Paul being driven crazy with jealousy and idiots in love who are utterly oblivious to their real feelings, while everyone around them knows exactly what's going on. Also venturing into gay clubs. Absolutely hilarious and so much fun. But also emotionally satisfying.

[notedchampagne]

each house gets one rendering style the economy is dire

[ringosmistress]

grammy nominations for record of the year 2025

[theoldmixer]

Happy Crimble @aquarianshift !

You mentioned other songs about the passage of time and missed love and this one popped in my head. I just knew I had to make a video for this song to show who it's truly about!

I'm so glad you are a part of this fandom and have enjoyed chatting with you this year.

Happy Holidays and I hope you enjoy!

[alba17]

A ficlet inspired by this pic, a writing prompt I saw somewhere and having recently watched A Hard Day's Night.

Behind the scenes behind the scenes. Real cameras, fake cameras. Layers of artifice piled on each other. In the midst of it, John goofing, pretending to sing a love song about nobody. Kneeling in front of him, demanding Paul’s attention.

If I fell in love with you…

But this is real: John’s grin, the sparkle in his eye, nimble fingers strumming the chords for Paul’s ears.

If I give my heart to you…

Everything else falls away except John’s intent focus on Paul, his knowing smirk softened by an invisible plea.

If I trust in you, oh please, don’t run and hide…

Paul’s heart leaps at the words, transformed by John’s abject pose, his face beaming up at him. Oh. His chest warms and he finds himself leaning towards John, pulled by intangible threads. 

I would love to love you…

A hot lick of desire tightens his trousers, hidden behind the bass. His gaze darts to John’s lips, forming words of love, then down to his kneeling thigh where the guitar rests, hiding secrets. When he shifts his eyes back to John’s face, it’s observant, flushed and heavy-eyed under Paul’s look.

If I fell in love with you…

The song ends and the movie crew starts gearing up for actual filming. John lays down his guitar and gestures to Paul with his eyes. Paul grabs John’s arm and drags him off, yelling to the director, “Ciggie break!” trying not to sound too desperate. John stumbles into him as they hurry off, somehow managing to get his hands all over Paul all at once, little touches that drive him insane. John brushes his lips against the shell of Paul’s ear, then murmurs, “Took you long enough to get the point.” 

“You said it wasn’t about anybody real!”

“You know better than to take anything I say seriously. That was for them.” He nods his head back toward the set. “Today was for you.” He boxes Paul in against the wall and takes his face in his hands, looking fond. “Ye daft sod.” He kisses Paul on the lips. Paul melts, a wave of desire coursing through him. The kiss is soft and tentative at first, then when Paul returns the pressure, the it turns more intense. For a moment, Paul’s lost in this new world where he can touch John like this. They press against each other, frantic.

Paul breaks away panting when they hear a voice down the hall. “Not here. Dressing room.” George and Ringo are busy on set. Nobody can do anything until the stars get back anyway.

“Good idea.” John gives him one last lingering kiss, then they hurry down the hallway.

[zanephillips]

JOHN PAUL PITOC Trick (1999)