#jim and john knew what they were doing

[yeyinde]

DARK ALIEN VERSUS PREDATOR (2010, VIDEO GAME) | dev. Rebellion Developments

[theinfinitedivides]

John Abraham's first intro by voice and close-up shots of his tattoos could wreck my insides any day. time place date doesn't matter call me up and i'll arrange something

[sp0o0kylights]

Part Two / Part Three

Ao3

It's 8:45 am. 

The Red Barn, which is neither red nor a barn, has been open since 7, catering to the early morning crowd with rounds of coffee and pancakes.

It was no Benny's, but given the size of Hawkins and the lack of alternatives?

No one was complaining. 

They were all too happy someone had opened up another watering hole for the working class man (or lass, as Foreman Shelly will dutifully remind you) which meant the place was packed with both day and night shift regulars, passing each other in staggered waves. 

It also meant Wayne was sharing the packed breakfast counter with a warehouse worker by the name of John Cheese on one side and Police Chief Jim Hopper on the other.

He doesn't mind it.

Wayne's a man on a budget thinner than his shoelace, but he's also a man who understands that small indulgences need to be made in life or you didn't truly live it.

This is how he convinces himself to get a coffee at the Barn after work everyday, reading the morning newspaper and chatting with the other regulars before he heads home.

Bonus, it gets him out of the rapid-fire franticness that is his nephew in the mornings.

(All the love in the world wouldn't change the fact that all that Eddie came with a lot of noise. 

The kind of noise that was a tried and true recipe for a headache right after a long shift.)

As a trade off, Wayne went to bed early so he could wake up in time for dinner with Eddie.

 It was a nice little system that worked for them. 

A routine Wayne was reminiscing fondly on, when the pager on Chief Hopper started to chirp. With a sad moan, the man fished out a few crumbled bills and threw them on the counter, abandoning his coffee to trudge out to his truck.

This was not unusual.

Particularly recently, given they were but a scant few weeks past that whole mall ordeal. A fact all too easy to remember when one caught sight of the Chief’s still healing face. 

What was unusual, was when he came storming through the doors a minute later, face now a furious shade of red with his hat clenched in his hand. 

The energy in the room shifted, taking on something a little watchful as Hopper swept his gaze from side to side, like a dog on the hunt.

Judging by the way he stilled when he caught sight of Wayne, the latter assumed he found what he was looking for and could only pray it was the person behind him. 

(He liked John, but Wayne had enough trouble this year and he wasn't looking for any more.) 

"Munson." Hopper called, striding over and dashing all his hopes. There was a choked fury emitting off him, and given the way John audibly scooted his chair away, Wayne knew everyone had clocked it. 

"Chief." Wayne greeted, inclining his head towards him.

Idly he wondered what the hell his nephew had done this time.

'So help me if he stole all the town's lawn flamingos and put them in that damn teachers yard again….'

Wayne didn't even get to finish his threat, the Chief was already next to him. 

"Mind if I have a word outside?" 

Dammit Eddie.

"Ah hell, what's he done now?" Wayne asked with a sigh, eyeing the coffee he had left morosely. 

There was still almost half of it left and the pot had tasted fresh for once. 

"What?" Hopper said, and then Wayne got to watch as the man ran through an entire chain of thoughts, each one punctuated by things like; "Oh," and "No. " 

"This is something else." He finished, flushed and fidgeting, anger making him antsy. 

Wayne stared up at him. 

"Something else?" He repeated, not sure he heard.

"Yes, something else." Hopper snapped impatiently, before leaning forward, voice dropping low. "This doesn't involve your nephew, but we both know you owe me for how many times I've let that kid off, Wayne. That's a damn big favor I've been doing you and I'm calling it in." 

If it were any other cop, it'd sound like a threat.

It was Hopper though. The same Hopper who Wayne had gone to school with.

They'd never been friends exactly, but they had been friendly and remained so. Even now, after Wayne had taken Eddie in, who’d gone on to be an undeniable pain in the local PD’s ass. 

Hopper really did let the kid off easy. 

Wayne really did owe him. 

So he put down his coffee with a sigh, passed his newspaper over to John and stood up, motioning for Hopper to lead the way. Got into the Chief’s truck when he waved him in, and didn’t make a big fuss when Hopper tore out of the parking lot like hell was about to open up under them. 

"Not a lot of the kids involved in the mall fire could be identified, but a few of them were." Hopper started, which felt nonsensical given the utter lack of context. 

Wayne hummed to show he’d heard. 

“Some of them got banged up more than others, and a lot of people wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t make it.” 

A pause, Hopper white knuckling the steering wheel as he swung the truck hard around a turn. 

“For certain people, those kids dying is the preferred outcome.” 

A mix of fear and warning swopped low in Wayne’s gut. 

"Jim." Wayne said, dropping the use of a last name because if any situation called for it, it was this one. "What exactly are you saying here?" 

The Chief chewed on his split lip. 

"I know you're smart, Munson. I know you, and plenty of others are aware that something's happening, been happening in this town." 

Which was a hell of an understatement if you asked Wayne. Plenty of the upper classes might be able to bury their heads when it came to the military parading about and the flow of “accidents” they brought in their wake, but then, they didn't see all the other signs of trouble. 

The absolute oddity that was Starcourt’s construction. 

How it had been built using primarily outside crews and anyone who'd taken a singular look at the site could tell you they were building it weird. 

Weird as in it looked like it would have a multi-level basement, and not what a mall should have. 

Then there were the constant electrical problems. The backups upon backups that failed. The late night delivery vans headed out to the Hawkins Lab. 

The things in the woods that kept spooking all the deer and the weird markings they left behind that unnerved even the hardest of hunters. 

This didn’t even touch the Russian military that more than one reputable person swore was hanging around. 

The very same Wayne himself had seen, on more than one occasion. 

(And you couldn’t deny it; those boys were military. Past or present, it didn’t matter. They moved like a threat, and Wayne treated them like one, staying well clear.)

"Yeah." Wayne admitted. "I also know better than to stick my nose in it." 

"That makes you a smarter man than me.' Hop complained under his breath, but the anger was self directed. 

"The point is, there are some government types crawling around, doing shit they shouldn't be doing, and more than a few of them are in the business of making people disappear.” 

This was absolutely not where Wayne had thought this was going. 

Hopper took a breath. Than another.

A third.

It was starting to make Wayne nervous, in a way he hadn’t felt since a social worker had brought Eddie to him for the last time and final time. It was the feeling that things were about to shift in a way that would change the course of his life. 

"Steve Harrington is sitting in my office right now, beat to absolute shit.” Hopper admitted.

Wayne gave him the floor to talk, letting him go at his own pace without interruptions. 

“He's there because some of those government types finally figured out his parents are never fucking home.” 

Wayne sucked in a breath. 

"We both know his parents, Wayne. Harassing them to come back and take care of their kid won't work, and frankly, I’m beginning to think all the phone lines are tapped anyway.” He winced here, like voicing such a thing pained him, and Wayne understood.

It sounded a little too out there, a little like he was buying into a conspiracy. 

Except he wasn’t. Wayne knew he wasn’t. 

Jim Hopper might have been an alcoholic, a man living in pain and unconcerned with his own life, but if there was one thing he was solid for, it was shit like this.

He didn’t jump to conclusions. Didn’t believe the first thing people told him. Even at his worst, he did the work to see what was really happening, and made his decisions from there. 

(Even if that decision was to accept the occasional bribe, or drive an intoxicated 13 year old Eddie home instead of hauling his ass into the drunk tank.) 

“Harrington won’t admit it, but he’s got a hell of a concussion if not a full blown brain injury and he’s not reacting as well as he should to Suites trying to run him off the road.” Hopper continued. Angrily, he added, “Damn kid didn’t even come to me until they tried to break into his house last night.” 

His fingers squeezed the wheel so hard Wayne heard the leather creak in protest. 

“I’d take him, but my cabin is being renovated from…” He trailed off, heaving a sigh.

 “A storm, so me and my kid are bunked with the Byers right now and we’re full up.” 

Hawkins hadn't had a storm like that in years, but Wayne wasn't going to call him out on the blatant lie. 

“I need a place to stash him for the next few weeks, until I can work with some of the higher ups sniffing around, and get them to call off their attack dogs.” 

“And you want to stuff him with me.” Wayne finished. 

“I know you don’t have the room.” Hopper admitted easily, stopping his truck at a red light and locking eyes with the other man. “But I also know you’ll be the last place anyone would look for him.” 

'Ain’t that the damn truth.'

“You’re really gonna go this far for a Harrington?” Wayne asked, instead of the million of other questions leaping to the forefront of his mind. 

This one, he figured, was the most important. 

“He’s not his dad.” Hopper said, as firm as Wayne had ever heard him. “He’s not either of his parents, and he saved my little girl.” 

Wayne hadn’t even known Hopper had another little girl, but he also knew better than to ask where the guy had found one. 

It wasn’t his business, just as nothing else Jim was involved in, was his business.

Except, apparently, Steve Harrington. 

“I’m gonna need my own truck if I’m takin' Harrington home.” Wayne said easily, instead of bothering to ask anything else.

If Jim said the kid was different than his daddy, then he was--because when it came to things like that, Jim didn't lie.

No point in it. 

“I know. Just needed to talk to you first, without anyone overhearing.” Jim said, before swinging the police truck around and heading back to the Barn. 

“I’ll stay in contact with you, and I’ll make sure Harrington pays you for the pleasure of your hospitality. Just--” Here Jim cut himself off, looking like he was struggling an awful lot with the next thing he wanted to say. 

Once again, Wayne waited him out.

“Don’t let Steve fool you. He’s good at fooling people, letting them think he’s okay. Too good at it, and between the two of us, I have a real good idea of the reason why.” 

A memory came to Wayne unbidden, of Richard Harrington and Chet Hagan, beating some poor kid in the highschool bathroom bloody. The grins on their faces as the poor guy wailed for them to stop.

How they almost hadn’t. 

“Alright.” Wayne agreed.

Hopper swung back into the Barn's parking lot, and Wayne moved right to his own beat to shit truck, ready to follow Jim back to the police station.

He wasn’t a praying man, not anymore, but Catholisim wasn’t a thing that let you go easy. 

He found himself sending up a quick prayer, fingers flicking in a kind of miniature version of the sign of the cross. 

Considering his own kid’s history with Harrington, and the sheer small space of the trailer? 

Wayne had a feeling it was needed.

[bisexualiteaa]

Them catching you listening to dirty songs 👀

Feat. John "soap" MacTavish, König, Simon "Ghost" Riley

Smutty suggestive themes 18+

John "Soap" MacTavish

Song: Dick by StarBoi3 feat. Doja cat

- You were both on your way to the gym for a good work out, (gym couple goals) when you'd noticed that one of your wireless earbuds had gone missing, but didn't really think anything of it, thinking you must have dropped one on the way out or accidentally left it at home.

- little did you know, Johnny nabbed it when you weren't looking, ever so curious of what you listened to when you were doing your sets and what music motivated you through your workouts.

- he found it rather normal at first, your usual selection of music playing for a bit, so when it played, he was as caught off guard as a deer in headlights. He was weight lifting when he heard the song play, and damn near dropped the weights when he heard it.

- he looked over at you, watching as you worked out your core and legs, mouthing the words as the main chorus hit, hitting your squats to the beat.

"She made some plans on my dick tonight"

"She not with him tonight, she not with Jim tonight"

"She in the gym tonight"

"Workout in that pussy (Ayy)"

"I'm gettin' ripped tonight"

"R.I.P that pussy (Ayy)"

"I'm goin' in tonight"

- his jaw was slack, watching you mouth the words to such a flithy song with a grin on your face, while at the gym of all places, but you were in your own little world.

- when your eyes met his gaze, you were none the wiser, giggling and waving at him happily as he watched you, thinking he was just checking you out or making sure no one was going to try and play moves on you. How could you be so cute and innocent but such a little demon too?

- he definitely needed to steal your earbuds more often, because afterwards, he made sure you made some plans with his dick that night.

König

Song: 34 + 35 by Ariana Grande

- you were all out at the bar drinking together after a rather rough week when the song came on.

- to start, he knew you could sing, you'd been together since before he joined Task Force 141, what he wasn't expecting was you to sing along to a song like this out in public

"Yeah, we started at midnight, go 'til the sunrise"

"Done at the same time"

"But who's counting the time when we got it for life?"

"I know all your favorite spots"

"We can take it from the top"

"You such a dream come true, true"

"Make a bitch wanna hit snooze, ooh"

"Can you stay up all night?"

"Fuck me 'til the daylight"

"34, 35"

"Can you stay up all night?"

"Fuck me 'til the daylight"

"34, 35"

- you sang the whole thing, making the rest of the guys at the table laugh and cheer you on as you sang, seeing as they'd never heard you sing before, let alone a song like this.

- König however? The second he actually added 34 and 35 together in his head, his face burned red, but the fact that you were singing it? Made it so much hotter, and harder to think with the pictures of you doing those things running rampant through his mind.

- "I think that's your que to take her home" Gaz spoke up with a knowing grin, making you chuckle as you watched König sit frozen and looking at you in disbelief.

- you and your comrades took far too much delight in his shy reaction, but when you two made it back home? You both Subtracted the clothes, he divided your legs and helped you add 34+35.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Song: The Summoning by Sleep Token

- you were cooking breakfast when the song came on, usually liking to sing and dance to your music as you cooked.

- Simon was just waking up when he smelled what you were making, and he made it half way down the stairs when your music and the sight of you greeted him.

"Oh, and my love"

"Did I mistake you for a sign from God?"

"Or are you really here to cut me off?"

"Or maybe just to turn me on"

"'Cause these days"

"I would be lying if I told you that"

"I didn't wish that I could be your man"

"Or maybe make a good girl bad"

"I've got a river running right into you"

"I've got a blood trail, red in the blue"

"Something you say or something you do"

"The taste of the divine"

- he recognized it instantly from one of your nights of shared carnal passion, remembering how you melted at the way he moved his hips in time to the beat.

- he quietly treaded the rest of the way downstairs, his one hand wrapping around your throat as the other sat at your hip as he came up to you from behind, taking you off guard. But in the best possible way of course.

- "playing your favorite song, I see?" He asked, making you chuckle as he turned you around and kissed you.

- it wasn't long until breakfast was long forgotten, left to get cold as he bent you over the counter after replaying the song, pistoning his hips into you to the beat.

- and while breakfast may have grown cold, you certainly couldn't have been more of the opposite.

[pinkiemachine]

How would you do Batman, I'm just wondering because Batman's my favorite character

OH HO HO!! I HAVE WRITTEN SO MUCH ABOUT BATMAN!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

*ahem*

His show is called BATMAN: GOTHAM FILES, and I have the basic outline for each and every one of the seasons! There’s 9 total, plus a movie finale. Here we go!

SEASON ONE:

Most of us should know basically what Bruce’s backstory is, so I’ll keep this part brief. Bruce Wayne was eight years old when his millionaire mother and father were gunned down in front of him in an alleyway in Gotham City. They never found the killer. The family’s loyal butler, Alfred Pennyworth, took care of Bruce from that point onward. Bruce started taking self-defence classes in-between going to the schwanky Gotham Academy and learning how to run his father’s business, Wayne Enterprises (a massive conglomerate that was famous throughout all of America, but especially the East Coast.) The young man had hardly healed from his traumatic experience, though, and after graduating college (something he was practically forced to do by Alfred), he decided not to stay in Gotham. He hated the city. Instead, he took off in a plane… and secretly never intended to come back…

EIGHT YEARS LATER…

It was a welcome surprise when Bruce Wayne turned up in Gotham, seemingly in a much happier headspace and eager to finally, finally take his father’s business seriously. The Prince of Gotham had returned. Months after that, there was a new legend lurking in the streets of the city. Something called “the batman” or “the bat.” Criminals were getting caught and arrested left and right, and half of them were scared out of their minds about this spectre. The police force didn’t know what to make of it… except for one Captain Jim Gordon. He knew that the legend was true… and occasionally, he would sneak into his office and scare the living daylights out of him. He and Batman had been working together for a little while now, (we get an episode later that explores how they first met), but Gordon doesn’t know who he really is under the mask, and no one else in the force thinks that Batman is even real. But Gordon is eager to help him because the police force is falling apart. They’re completely unable to do their job and keep the streets safe, so Gordon agrees to help Batman stop crime in its tracks. He wants to make Gotham safer for his wife and daughter.

Shocking literally no one, the audience discovers that Bruce Wayne is Batman, working out of a massive secret base underneath Wayne Manor—his ancestral home. But, he must balance the life of a vigilante with the life of billionaire Bruce Wayne, which can be difficult at times. We get several episodes just laying the ground work. Who runs the company when Bruce isn’t around? Lucious Fox. Who manages Bruce’s affairs and schedule? Alfred. Who makes all the gadgets and gear that Batman uses? He does. Using plenty of materials and goods he can buy since he’s a billionaire. When did he learn how to make all this stuff? Hmmmmmm….

We meet our first few villains—Penguin, Two-Face, Scarecrow, Poison Ivy, Mr. Freeze, Riddler, etc—Batman is still trying to track down who murdered his parents, and we’re having a generally good time until THE MID SEASON FINALE. You see, there’s a circus coming to town.

Haley’s Traveling Circus was famous on the East Coast, being one of the oldest circuses in the country, as well as boasting the Fabulous Flying Graysons! A family trapeze act! However, this smiling troop of clowns was actually hiding some pretty dark secrets. When they arrived in Gotham City, they were asked to help out known mob-boss Tony Zucco with some… not-so-nice things. John Grayson, head of the Flying Graysons, had been feeling conflicted about how much behind-the-scenes shady dealings the circus had been involved with over the years. So, he thought that maybe if he just let the tiniest bit of evidence leak to the police, maybe they could handle everything and the Graysons wouldn’t be caught in the cross fire. This is what brings Batman to the scene. He investigates the circus, meets the Graysons, including their son, Richard, aka Dick, and eventually goes on to solve the mysterious crime, pinning it on Tony Zucco and getting certain members of Haley’s Circus arrested. (The ones actually involved in the crime.) However, Zucco manages to avoid jail time. Not only that, but he discovers who snitched on him. That night, after the case has been solved and Bruce shows up to catch the Flying Graysons perform, everything is going great until the unthinkable happens: the lines on the trapeze snap and Mr. and Mrs. Grayson go falling to their deaths.

Dick Grayson is an orphan… and he’s angry. He’s about 11 years old, but he’s smart enough to know what’s going on. He knows why Batman was coming around asking questions, he knows who Tony Zucco is, and he knows that his father made him very unhappy. After the police have arrived, but before social services do, Dick sneaks out and climbs to the top of the building with the Bat-Signal on it (yes, by this point in the story, that’s a thing). He flashes it on and off, rain pelting down, until the caped crusader arrives. He demands to know if this was Zucco’s fault. Batman refuses to say anything, but Dick doesn’t care. He says he’s going to make Zucco pay, whether Batman helps or not, and he tries his hardest to remain true to his word. After that night, Dick runs off through Gotham several times, trying to get in touch with Zucco and attempting to enact revenge, meanwhile Batman has to keep swooping in to keep the kid from getting himself killed. He recognises the pain he’s in—he completely understands his anger—and realises that he needs a teacher—a mentor—a father figure who can lead him through all of this and keep him out of trouble. So, as Bruce Wayne, he decides to adopt Dick. At first, Dick doesn’t want anything to do with this stranger—he’d rather stay with his circus family if he’s going to stay with anyone—but then, in court one day, Bruce says something—something only Batman said to him once—and all of a sudden, it clicks in Dick’s mind. He instantly asks to be placed in Bruce’s care and not a few hours after arriving at Wayne Manor, Dick manages to discover where the Batcave entrance is. Sneaking down there, he plans to become his own kind of vigilante, just like Batman, and get revenge… until Bruce catches him and tries to knock some sense into him.

It’s here that Bruce has to confront his own past. His sense and reason are saying, “Don’t let the kid try to enact revenge!” But then, he has to ask himself, “why am I still hunting down the man who killed my parents?” He has to tell himself, “it can’t be about revenge. Only what is just and fair.” When/if he finds the killer, he will turn him over to the authorities and let him face proper punishment. Zucco… he’s too powerful. There needs to be a lot of incriminating evidence against him before the police can take action, and even then, that’s not what Dick wants. Dick wants Zucco gone. Permanently. THAT is what needs to be dealt with inside of Dick. Bruce refuses to let this boy make himself a killer. Instead, he decides to channel that anger and drive into training him. You see, when Bruce vanished for eight years, it was during that time that he met many teachers and learned many new skills. Through bettering himself and learning these skills, he felt he had grown as a person and had worked through some of his emotions. It was therapeutic. He hopes it will be the same for Dick. He also teaches him about the justice system and detective work so that they can bring down Tony Zucco WITHOUT killing him. Little by little, over the course of the next year, Dick starts to turn into the infamous side-kick Robin, following Batman on small cases and learning about fighting crime… from a distance. (Mostly.) Dick does have a knack for getting into trouble.

On the personal side of things, Dick still needs to adjust to living in Wayne Manor, going to a new school (Gotham Academy) navigating being a wealthy, famous person’s adopted son, etc etc. And then… Ra’s Al Ghul shows up. Now it’s time for Bruce’s past to be revealed. He had traveled the world, and he did have many teachers, but none quite as legendary as the Demon’s Head, leader of the League of Shadows. A secret organisation (cult, really, Bruce later realised) that had mastered martial arts, ninjutsu, and so much more. Each member was a peak specimen of the human race, with no genetic weaknesses or flaws, especially their leader, Ra’s. Bruce had been one of his top students, but then he had revealed his grande scheme for the world. Ra’s wanted to wipe out the rest of humanity (which he deemed as impure and flawed) and then the only people who would be left to inherit the Earth would be his perfect family and his perfect followers! All he was missing was a male heir to his throne. His daughter, Talia, most perfect of his children, had fallen in love with Bruce during his time in the Shadows, but before anything serious could come of it, Bruce had snuck out and left the League, meaning never to come back. Now, though, Ra’s had found him and wanted him to marry his daughter. Bruce refuses. Ra’s tries to take him by force, Robin helps save the day, it’s a big exciting grand finale to the season, and it ends with Ra’s and Talia retreating… because while Bruce was captured, they managed to steal some… “DNA”… and test tube baby Damian would be thus conceived, unbeknownst to Batman and Robin.

(Like, he’s a test tube baby from conception. Talia was never physically pregnant with him.)

Anyway, things are looking up for our main characters. They saved the city, they saved each other, they’re working on their personal growth, and everyone is excited to see Season 2 because—

JOKER TEASE!!!! DUN DUN DUN!!!!

I’mma make more posts, this is a long one, strap in…

I also have a sketch of Talia…

Part 2 👇

[undying-love]

Some quotes from Bob Spitz's The Beatles Biography

“Paul loved working with John. At the beginning it was like sex–they popped them off, one after another.“

"John hooked right in and fed off the energy. John and Paul had remarkably similar tastes [in music]; they liked it fast, hard, and loose."

"It never occurred to Paul just how much he missed John. More than anyone else, John had been his friend for ten years, to say nothing of his collaborator, his sidekick, his shadow. Not only had they played music together, they'd hung out together, dreamed together, fucked together, become famous together. Grown up together."

“The last week in August, Paul McCartney returned to Liverpool, tanned and noticeably slimmer. In addition to starting school, he came back to begin a relationship he seemed destined for: hooking up with John Lennon."

"School proved a nagging obstacle for John and Paul, the occasional stolen afternoons unsatisfying, hardly time enough to get something going before Jim arrived home from work. Weekends were reserved primarily for the band. It wasn't so much that they needed time to write as much as it was each other's company. "Something special was growing between them," says Colin Hanton, "something that went past friendship as we knew it."

"But it was clear once Ivan and Paul got around to John, there was a lot of ‘checking out’ being done”

"But John was enamored of Paul’s prodigious talent, so much that all previous reservations disappeared. Transfixed, John squatted on his haunches, squinting, close enough to study Paul’s elastic hands.”

"John and Paul circled each other like cats. Their interest in each other was deeper and more complex than it appeared to anyone watching the encounter. There was instant recognition, a chemical connection made between two boys who sensed in the other the same heartfelt commitment to this music, the same do-or-die. For all the circling, posturing, and checking out that went on, what it all came down to was love at first sight."

[menlove]

can you direct me to any good fics set in the hamburg days or just anything pre-beatlemania?

oooh yeah ! i loooove hamburg & early days fics so certainly :) i didn't include any paris fics in this even though it technically fits the bill of pre-beatlemania just bc that's a totally different vibe & genre of fics tbh

hamburg:

I Need My Love to Be Here

explicit. 8k. After John gets his first panic attack in Hamburg, he starts to realize that Paul might be the only person who can bring him back to himself.

Put My Heart Around the Bend

explicit. 60k. He nodded and they sat across from each other on the window sill, the clammy air from outside kissing their cheeks. John watched Paul as he lit their cigarettes, as he had done so many times before. They held eye contact, and John just knew Paul could hear how hard his heart was beating. But he wouldn't say anything. Neither of them ever said anything.

Like Love, The Archers Are Blind

explicit. 22k. He wants to push Stuart out of the way, not even with a violent yank of his collar like he sometimes imagines. Just to melt into his place like butter sliding in a pan. Have it be an effortless breath of fresh air when John looks up at him and sees it all reflected back in his eyes. It’s you. Hamburg, 1960.

Running with Scissors

explicit. bluewater9: Hannah, a smutlet idea… So just what happened AFTER John cut the clothes off that girl in Hamburg? What a conversation and, ahem, J/P consequence that must have been!

No More Situations

explicit. 14k. Set during the Hamburg years. John gets jealous of a German guy who likes Paul.

Everything's Different in Germany

explicit. 4.5k. It all feels upside down, like the door to that shop was an entrance to some parallel universe or Wonderland-like rabbit hole. He isn’t hiding under the covers with a flashlight in one hand, his throbbing cock in the other, and some meticulously-posed bird’s chest spilling over the pages and onto his lap. Instead he’s in some Hamburg back alley, the concrete chilly beneath his bum and his best mate warm by his side, while he gazes over naked men and pretends not to feel the unexpected interest in his trousers.

ageless children, animal sweat

mature. 5k.

Paul is sitting close enough to see properly, one elbow on the bartop, hand tucked beneath his chin. His eyes are beetle black and his long spidery eyelashes are twitching under the harsh club lights. It makes John sort of sick to look at him. Pale face in stark chiaroscuro, gleaming with animal sweat, Paul looks otherworldly, like something neither man nor woman. Hamburg, 1960. John and Paul go to a gay bar after a late show.

general early days:

Above Us Only Sky

teen. 1k. Nowhere to go but up.

Some Girls Will Make You Shiver

explicit. 4k. “How d’you suppose,” John said, in his normal John-voice, “how’d you think two girls go at it?”

On The Way To Work

explicit. 14k. How could Paul have so many dreams and one of them not come true? Paul and John, Hamburg and Liverpool, December 1960.

two of us (burning matches)

explicit. 6k. It won't stop raining. Paul doesn't know what his feelings are doing. John's practising his right swing. Somewhere along the way, they fuse together.

The Drainies

mature. 11k. Written for the prompt: John bullies Paul into wearing tight drainies and the result awakens something in both of them (Can also include some John vs Jim stuff since Jim didn’t approve of Paul wearing tight clothes).

Boy, You've Been A Naughty Girl

explicit. 49k. John makes Paul a bet. Paul takes him up on it. Crossdressing shenanigans and angst ensue, and ~feelings come out in the wash. 1961.

now and then (there's a fool such as i)

mature. 30k. users only. John and Paul on their trip to Caversham, Berkshire. April, 1960.

christmas lights (keep shinin' on)

mature. 12k. (prompt: paul takes john to the family christmas party in 1958) "I'd have you," Paul said, eventually, and John felt the air being knocked out of him. "If it was different. If we were different."

Come And Go With Me

mature. 94k. When two oblivious teenage boys meet for the very first time in the summer of 1957, a transcending bond to be passed on through decades to come makes its initial formation; a sanctuary, a home, a secret, a storm, a song, and a love to surpass the regular circumstances of time itself; it all starts in a city called Liverpool - but where will it take them from there?

also not to be that person but i WILL also whore out the first part of the series i'm writing w @forthlin here that's early days/getting together: i want you (every time that you're near)

[bowieandqueen11]

Not Just A Trinket / Izzy Hands Imagine

Request: hi! ur writing is EVERYTHING btw. ur an amazing writer. you mentioned you wanted to write for izzy hands again and i have a request– feel free to ignore if it's not what ur looking for :) maybe izzy hands x reader where the reader has a small gift for him (a little trinket, a beaded crystal bracelet– something they made for him) but they're WAY too anxious to give it to him because they're scared he won't like it so they end up just carrying it around, trying to build up the courage to give it to him pfft

AHHH thank you so much my lovely, that's so sweet of you, and so is this idea!!! :3 Also I know I'm a little early in the timeline mentioning Davy Jones but I like to think of Izzy as a trendsetter ;)

Warning: mentions of fighting/ injury and strong language, some sexual innuendo!

(I do not own OFMD or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @nadsdraws.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

Izzy Hands was beginning to detest feeling like this.

He would rather charge sword first at a horde of raging Englishmen: would prefer to scrabble and scrape and scratch through the eye sockets of thousands of the Spanish with naught but his bloodied fingernails. Hell, even grovelling under the sole of the snivelling wreck that now possessed his former boss like a twisted nightmare, a horrid regret, would be preferable. If his hand wasn't too firmly attached to tangled rope of one of the shrouds in a death grip, if his glove wasn't close to bursting at the seams with how tightly he was gripping, he had half a mind to draw his dagger out of its scabbard and gouge his heart out right there and then.

He looked furious. So much so, that Roach was quick to side step him as he hopped down the steps with fresh sewing materials in his hand, giving a final look back at the intent man who only bared his teeth at the cook in response. Valuing his life, or at least the ability to keep all his fingers, if the sight of the keen blade being twisted between Izzy's free fingers told him anything, Roach is quick to recoil back and raise a concerned eyebrow in Wee John's direction. He in turn just rolls his eyes and lowers his head back to his sewing, but the rest of Stede's crew are astute enough, from where they're lingering around the deck, to notice the thick tension brewing like cold shivers of electricity in the air. Even Jim and Oluwande were giving each other side eyes, pausing their hammering at the helm to dart their eyes to their side and trace the path of Izzy's line of sight.

It never wavered. Every time they looked, it never changed. He had spent the last two hours gaping sourly towards the edge of the quarter deck. Gawking solely at you, without a single movement, without a single flicker outside the bubble where you hunched.

You thought he was angry at you for arranging a special outing for Ed and Stede at Datura Grotto, finally indulging in finding a way for them to spend some time alone after your Captain had begged and hounded you for days; he had become so accustomed to bursting through doors trying to find you and ask for your help, that the poor daunted man nearly burst into tears when he smashed your bedroom door into your nose and nearly broke it. The rest of the crew believed he was plotting something: trying to pick out the quieter members of their friends first, as payback for being stuck on this so called 'straight out of Davy Jones' arsehole' of a ship for so long.

Izzy, though. Izzy knew he was smitten. And he fucking hated it. He hated feeling so vulnerable.

Out of all the crew members still pretending to mill about, only Lucius was daring enough to purse his lips and look brazenly back at Blackbeard's first mate. Only Lucius, in fact, was feeling equally brave, and equally vexatious that fine afternoon to muster up the courage to slide up beside him. 'Someone in a bad mood today, are we?'. He taps the ships railing with the point of his nail, the broom he had been pretending to sweep splintered pieces off the floor a moment ago soon forgotten about as he leans it against the side of the ship. He replaces the loss by dropping his hand to his hip, cocking his head and smiling at an increasingly agitated looking Izzy. 'Would it have anything to do with that fine young sea farer over there by any chance? How romantic, Dizzy Izzy. Oh, I do love a good fix-me-up-'

Oh, he was enjoying this.

Izzy's quick to snap, not even bothering to look in Lucius' direction. 'Fuck off, before I do you a favour and cut that little seducing tongue out of your mouth for you.' Lucius watches Izzy's fingers tighten into leather clad black balls on the rope ladder, and doesn't need a second warning to trot off back towards his friends again. With a final wide eyed look of shock, he turns back to Black Pete and shrugs, holding his hands up as if to say that he tried his best.

All the while, you just keep your gaze steady out and onto the brewing horizon of the sea, watching as foam shook out like reaching hands around your ankles as they across cut through the wave crests, only the salty sting of thrumming silence keeping you company underneath his watchful gaze. The beaded necklace you had spent the last week or so threading together, carefully crafted by trembling fingers and a bit tongue during long evenings spent in your hammock, was beginning to feel like an anchor weight in your pocket. You tried to distract yourself with mundane, idle chit chat with a very thankful Lucius, who had swung over to your side after Pete convinced him to go scouting out for some more gossip. Swinging his legs between the latches of the port quarter, he merrily took the hammer you were idly holding from your hand and began to 'fix up the ship', his wrist barely moving as he turned to you with a scheming smile.

'So, do you know what's going on then? Why Izzy's acting like this? I swear, that man. If he doesn't bend over right now and try to get that stick out of his arse, he's going to be a miserable sad sack of repressed irritation forever. He's like a jack in the box. I swear to god, I'm just waiting for him to burst.' The tone of his voice sounds almost worried, but Lucius is smiling and waggling his eyebrows the whole while. 'That would be kind of funny, actually. I've always imagined him as a stamper. Or maybe a screamer-'

You have no idea what to say, not understanding Lucius' oh so unsubtle hints, so you just run your fingers over the bulge in your pocket once more and chime in to his rant from time to time with a disinterested 'hmm' or distracted 'oh, yeah. Definitely.' It really didn't help that you were beginning to blush the same champagne hue as the bubbles between your toes with how gravely Izzy was staring at the side of your face. It was growing increasingly harder not to give into the temptation: to not just swing your head around and meet his hard-set eyes head on.

Once he realises you're dead set on staying right there, away from him, hiding in the corner all day, he sighs and let's go of the sails, marching off to do another impromptu inspection of the boarded vessel. It's an easy distraction: yelling orders at Wee John, spitting insults at Roach as he scurries out of Izzy's way, stealing the Swede's cup out of his hand and spraying beads of coffee around Buttons' feet. All of it was a Grade A fantastic distraction, and Izzy was hell bent on forgetting just how quickly time had gone by that day: Ed and the moronic, sappy, massive twat of an arse Stede would be back from their foliage constitutional any minute now, and Izzy was acutely aware that he was running out of both minutes, and chances to ask you to take a walk with him on the island himself. He had spent far too much of the morning wasting away, leaning his back on Stede's antique armoire and watching you with crossed arms: like a weathered statue, the growing umbra he cast somehow seeming to reach its tendrils out and blanch the fringes of the doorway. Even Fang and Ivan had been too terrified to come near him, and so he had been left alone. A silent sentinel, trying to figure out why the fuck his heart was cracking against the cage of his ribs and tearing their ligaments to shreds.

You hadn't exactly made things any easier for the man: feeling so intimated, you had spent the whole morning begging your friends to whisk you away from him at the first sign of danger. Whether that meant ducking behind Frenchie's lute like a crab, or hiding like a bulky turtle under the large bit of crimson cloth Oluwande was fiddling with the tassels of, you had used any form of escape to save you from the embarrassment of having to be near him. To let him see how flustered you became just at the overwhelmingly intense pressure you felt in the air any time he swaggered over to your side: to hide the fact that your eyes would widen in abject horror, your breath hitching any time the back of his gloved hand would 'accidentally' brush against your wrist as he went on his merry way, pretending it was all by accident. That it was all just a little game to him.

Little did you know, that he was feeling exactly the same way. The one time he had dared to come over to you that day had been an unmitigated disaster. He thought he was being... well, as kind as he possibly could be by slapping you on the shoulder and saying 'how good of a job you're doing.' He was nodding his head between every word, that jilted, simpering smile on his face as he supplemented his sentiment with an incredibly heartfelt 'at least Y/n knows how to do a fucking thing on this ship, not like you lot of useless fucking fuckers they have to work with. The rest of you are embarrassing, really.' He went to walk away, the side of his wrist glancing against the back of your hand as he finished with a breathless 'you lot could learn a thing or two from Y/n.'

He had staggered away from you as if mortally wounded, tongue bitten between his teeth as he tried as nonchalantly as possible to make his way back to the stern of the ship. While you were busy trying to bury your head down into your chest and avoid the smirking faces of Lucius and Pete, you happened to notice from the side of your eye that with each step Izzy was ringing out his hand. To your surprise, he used his teeth to rip his glove off, tucking it under his armpit as he wrangled with his fingers; he couldn't stop every cell burning as if it had just been reeled under the bottom of the ship. Couldn't understand why his fingertips wouldn't stop shaking as he flexed them.

Lucius was right. He was about to erupt, and he wondered if he'd ever be alright again.

It took until the sun nearly bowing over the jaded unicorn surmounting the anterior of the Revenge for you to find the courage to finally slink away from your convenient hiding spot to go over to Izzy. Well, that and the feel of Lucius literally dragging you up by the wrist and giving you a well meaning shove in the back towards the helm.

'Oh, fuck me', Izzy hisses as he watches you approach, turning his back to you to hide how flustered he was becoming with each tugging step at his heart you take towards him. He nearly jumps high enough to fall face first off the side of the boat when he feels your hand tentatively tap his shoulder, but he manages to inhale sharply and compose himself as best as he can before he flicks his eyes to look at you.

'I-uh-', you swallow thickly, shakily drawing your hand away from him and tucking it behind your back. 'I-, uh. I, I mean, I-'. The two of you, a far change of pace from usual, can barely keep your eyes on each other.

You feel like throwing your shoe at Lucius when you register the all too familiar sing song-y chime of his voice murmuring 'say something!' from behind your back. 'Or I swear to god, I'll kiss the man for you!'

'Well, I-', you start again, shooting the most vicious glare you could strangle out of you back at your friend. With a final sigh, you continue: 'I saw your necklace, and I don't mean to pry- but since you're always wearing black, which of course is incredibly cool, I just- well, I thought it needed a burst of colour.' Without a second thought, you scramble to pull your makeshift necklace out of your trousers, and shove the glistening glass emeralds and burnished pearls into his fist.

'It's just a silly thing, really. I saw Stede fixing Ed's red fabric and I just thought... well, you don't have to wear it. It's just a trinket, it's stupid. Really, you don't have to wear it. I'm sorry-'. After a pause, the burning sensation is enough to make you turn on your heel and bashfully start to make a break for the Rec Centre, just to get as far away from him as possible.

'It's not just a trinket.' The softness of his tone, despite how harshly he sounds out the letters makes you swivel back in surprise. He takes the opportunity to take a step forward and grab onto your wrist. He tugs you closer, until you're standing dangerously close to him: if he were to inhale deeply now, to puff his chest out just a tenth of an inch, your belly buttons would be tightly pressed upon each other. You can already feel his buttons strain against your shirt as he whistles out through bunched teeth, the breath sharp and warm against the side of your jaw. 'Don't say that. Never say that. It came from you, so it's not-... just, don't say that.'

He blinks, slowly releasing his viper grip.

'I like it. I really do. Thank you.' He motions awkwardly with a flick of his fingers to the side of his neck. 'Would you mind? With the gloves, I'm... not very good with clasps. Haven't, haven't used one in a long time.'

You can't stop your head from nodding, feeling like a wound up spring toy as you unfurled his fingers again and took the gift back. With a final swallow, you try not to turn cerise as you gently roll down the collar of his shirt. It folds easily down over his vest, until your bare fingers are dragging over the naked line of skin on his neck, just teasingly hiding the tense muscles of his upper back.

'You really didn't have to do this for me, you know.'

'Yeah... but I wanted to. You're not as much of an arsehole as Stede tries to make out.' You manage out a giggle, before you're back to biting your bottom lip in concentration, brushing a few strands away from the back of his head.

He wants to say more, but his voice chokes in the back of his throat like rifting water, his mouth trembling as your fingers brush over the coiled grey hairs bristling at the nape of his neck. It feels like a red hot poker is being dragged across his skin; he shivers at the feeling, a tight coil rolling across his limbs before settling uncomfortably heavy in the pit of his stomach.

He looks like he's about to weep when you take a step back, reaching up with a final pat to make sure the little metal swallow that adorns the centre of your necklace is lying perfectly against his breast. You may have lingered there a little longer than necessary... long enough for your palm to begin burning against the firm muscle of his pec, and for Lucius to draw out an enunciated wolf whistle, but it was definitely worth it. Even the sound of Frenchie snickering from the barrel he was perched on down on the deck was drowned out by the thrumming toll in your ears: by the sound of Izzy's sharp breath piercing your ear as he wavered uneasily on the spot. He didn't want to move away from you, not yet. He could barely even hear them. For the first time in his life, he didn't even fucking care. All he could focus on, over the bridge of his nose - through the gentle curls of his tired eyelashes, was you.

He was intoxicated - but even worse, he was finally beginning to understand. By god, he wondered. What the fuck had you done to him? Could this really be what Edward feels? Could anyone, really, feel this much?

'I hear swallows are meant to bring good luck', you state with bated breath, fingering the charm you had picked up from a market stall at the Republic of Pirates for a final time. It had reminded you almost immediately of Izzy: a hidden treasure, glistening white-gold, like fresh sunlight flitting across the glitter combs littered across the sea beds. It had been well buried within piles of muck: old straw, rotten bits of moulding fruit, bloodied bones twisted into odd shapes that you could barely recognise, but it had been lying there. Waiting just for you. A needle in the haystack. The final piece of the puzzle.

Izzy's breath draws in sharply as you absentmindedly begin to brush your pointer finger up and up: tracing the edge of his jaw line before rolling over the same bird tattoo lacing his neck, your eyes still drawn to the gap between his shirt where his Adam's apple lay tautly.

'Yes. Very good luck', he states, amazed he even found his voice. Surprisingly, he doesn't even try to pull away. He lets you trace your finger over the beak, gliding across the round belly until they're dancing teasingly over its tail. In fact, without his wonderous, dipped eyes looking away from you, he seems to be tilting his head in time, allowing you easier access to brush against his skin and steal his soul with every movement.

Before he has time to think of the repercussions of what he was about to do, the leather of his gloves flex around your cheeks and Izzy Hands has bowed his back down over you, lips knocking against yours. It's terse, and rather urgent in its forcefulness; it was both a slip of outrageous passion, and a terse reminder of his years out of practice feeling any sort of physical affection, and yet you couldn't help but brush up even closer to the man. He welcomes you eagerly, even though this eternity lasted only a moment: with his thumb, he tilts the jut of your chin up so he can lick his tongue against your bottom lip all the more easily. His knee slides forward until it knocks against your own, lurching you forward and saving him the embarrassment of having to voluntarily admit to his weakness and slide his other hand around the pulse point of your neck, until he was cradling the bone of your shoulder.

He finally draws back, his tongue darting out to lick along the edge of his top lip. 'Yeah, very lucky indeed.' He seems sorrowful to be letting go of you, but the loud whistling and snorting that begins to bounce back and forth between Stede's crew snaps Izzy back to himself. With a final glance back down to your lips, he struts off to pick up Lucius' long abandoned broom and starts chasing him across the ship with it.

[juvenillia]

~ if you let me ~ John Price x fem!reader [fluff fic]

summary: John found himself in a completely new situation and confesses his needs without any doubts.

a/n: Just a cute little one shot between the angst/hurt we're going through with Death of Peace of Mind atm, I hope you enjoy. Thanks to my darling @ghostslillady who brought me the inspo for that one <3

cw/tw: suggestive content, slight smut (but only the slightes fr), jealousy, soft lover boy Price, fluff, confession, start of a relationship, petnames

worcount: 2.8k

》 Read on AO3 《 》Master Post《

This was all so new to John. He was used to hook up with a nice and pretty girl while on leave. Always searching company in a different bar, so he wouldn’t see the same girl again. Sharing some wonderful hours, drinking, laughing, and chasing their release. But this situation was indeed new to him. A one-night stand turned into two, and then he didn’t dare to leave in the morning and rather decided to wake you up with his mouth on you, the urge to taste you again was too carnal. What lead into a shared breakfast, what lead into traded numbers, before he left late on the third evening with a deep kiss, not daring to let go of you, but he had to go back to his duty.

This fateful one-night stand now turned into a friends-with-benefits kind of situation and is going on for merely six months. As soon as he had some time on base he’d call you, you’d send him pictures of things that reminded you of him. He’d send some worn shirts via mail and some flowers from time to time. You longed for him to get some time on leave again and feel his body wrapped around yours again. Late at night there was always a delicate picture of you in nothing more than a black lace pantie and one of his shirts attached to a short message. “Thinking only of you, Captain.”, which lead him to lock his office and call you instantly. You were so desperate for each other and still you respected the boundaries and duties of another.

It was nice and easy, all so casual. Both of you enjoyed the company and affection with no strings attached. Of course, no one of you saw someone else, to occupied with each other, but you didn’t label it yet. You didn’t have the time to have the deep talk right now. You just enjoyed each other, but all the time things weren’t meant to stay that easy. That’s how you found yourself seated surrounded with your two sisters. Once a month they would give their husbands the kids, so that the three of you could grab a coffee and catch up with out the screaming and running around from your nephews and nieces. You laughed and shared the latest gossip.

That’s when you received another message from John. Nothing more than a picture of a flower was seen on screen, but it was your favorite one. A smile tugged at your lips.  “Sweetheart…”, Isabelle, your older sister, said in a teasing tone. Your eyes darted back to hair while you put your phone back to the table, screen facing the wood. “Sorry. Where were we?”, you smiled and Isabelle and Caroline, your younger sister, exchanged knowing glances. “Real talk now. Who is he?”, Caro started. “Or she. We don’t discriminate.”, Isabelle added. You only blinked at them in confusing. “Excuse me?” – “Hun, you’re smiling like a madman at your screen. I didn’t even know you could smile like that.”, Isabelle said with a sweet voice while taking your hand and squeezing it. You blinked rapidly, the smile never falling out of your face.

“Since when you know?”, you didn’t even try to convince them otherwise. You knew they wouldn’t back down and you couldn’t deny that he indeed gave you butterflies with the smallest things. All the little messages, the little gifts. All so thoughtful, and somehow romantical. Something no one of your earlier partners managed to do. Not to mention how he worshipped you behind closed doors. “For five months. Especially when Mike saw you getting way too much take-out that one night, when you said you couldn’t look after Jim and Jill.”, Isabelle explained. You only laughed at this. Jim and Jill, your nephew and niece, twins, loved you like their own mother. Anytime Isabelle and Mike needed some couple time they would drop them at your place. “His name is John…”, both of your sisters instantly started gushing but you stopped them. “Please. It’s nothing official. Alright? We’re not even dating…” – “YET!”, Caro cried out excited. So, you spent the whole afternoon to talk about your not-boyfriend John Price, who was the sweetest guy ever. And you knew you had fallen for him. Since the moment he came back after your one night stand. A bouquet of your favorite flowers in one hand, and some of the best pizza your town had to offer in the other. Two things you mentioned only the slightest as he invited you for a drink. His usual manner, but with you it was different. He memorized every little detail you told him that night and would keep going with it. You told your sisters everything about him and they were nearly as excited to get to know to him, as you were excited to see him again. After some time, you three bid your goodbyes, after you got once more reminded that the annual family gathering would be this weekend.

You went after your normal daily routines. Working your nine to five, doing the household, running errands and the usual stuff an adult had to do. There was a bitter radio silence with John, because of his deployment. It somehow made you feel uneasy, but you knew he’d be safe. Friday came and you overslept. That’s how you forgot your phone at home, and even your prepared lunch. Not even able to make your bed, you left your apartment in completely hurry. To your fortune you could leave work earlier that day. That way you could pick up a quick meal, just a small smoothie, on your way to the boutique where you picked a dress for the family gathering. When you got back to your apartment, something felt off. You couldn’t remember that you left the light on. Maybe you forgot about it when you rushed out this morning, but still something felt weird. Even weirder when you smelled something familiar. As you walked into the living room you cried out, when suddenly two strong and calloused hands got grip of your hips and pulled you around. “Surprise.”, a familiar deep voice was heard. You just looked at the beaming face of John and before you could even answer your hands pulled him down into a deep kiss. His hands squeezing your hips, while his lips turned into a bright smile. His beard tingling over your skin and both of you started giggling like little children. “That’s not what I left you the spare key for. It’s for emergencies, John.”, you said while he peppered kisses along your jawline, down your neck, while your head fell slightly back. “Love, that was an emergency. Needed to see you.”, he said between the kisses. His voice mixed with the little nibs sent shivers down your spine. “I’ve missed you.”, you breathed out and he hummed in approval. “Missed my girl as well.”, he said, while lifting you up like you weighted nothing. Your legs immediately wrapped around his torso while he carried you over to the couch. His mouth never stopping to kiss down your neck and suck at your soft skin.

“John.”, you moaned, and he lowered you beneath him. “I know. I know.”, he kept sucking onto your neck, and you could feel the sensation burning in your stomach. Just then you got reminded of something different. You gently pushed his shoulders away from you and he instantly stopped. Concern in his eyes, while he looked down at you. “What’s wrong, love?”, he pushed himself up to give you more space. You smiled at him and kissed him once more. Just quick before sitting up, and he sat next to you. “Please, don’t think I’m not happy to see you…but…”, his brows arched, and his hand found yours. “But?” – “It’s not the best time right now… my weekend is quite tight scheduled.” That’s when he looked confused at you. John knew that you had your own life, and that you shouldn’t need to drop every appointment just because he had some time off, some time he wanted to spend with you. Still, his heart hurt when he asked the following question. “Don’t tell me, you’re seeing someone else.” You only blinked in disbelief at him, instantly placing your hands on his cheeks. “No. No don’t think that. I could never.”, you assured him, and you could see how the panic vanished out of his eyes.

“Good. That’s good.”, he smiled relieved, while taking one of your hands in his and kissed every knuckle after another. “I can just wait here for you. It’s only fair when you’ve to wait all the time for me.”, his words brushed over your skin, and it made your heart jump. He was so understanding, so sweet. “But I won’t be coming home. I’m gonna spend the weekend with my family at the land house of my grandparents.”, you said quietly. A little ‘oh’ formed on his lips and he fell in his thoughts. And so did you. Too scared to ask him to come with you, but god you wanted to call your family to screw them. You wanted to spend the time with him. He wasn’t your boyfriend; you couldn’t just bring him with you. All the question he would have to endure. He slightly squeezed your hand. “What…what when I come with you?”, you immediately looked up at him. Your eyes filled with sheer surprise. “You sure you want that?”  He laughed at your concern and pulled you into his lap. Tracing lazy circles on your back. “It would make you happy, wouldn’t it?”, he said looking up to you and you nodded slowly. A reserved smile forming on his lips. You pressed your forehead against his and breathed a small “Thank you.” out, before you went to the bedroom to get your phone and call Isabelle. To make sure, it would be manageable.

Just like that John found himself surrounded by screaming little children, nonstop talking grandparents and sisters who couldn’t stop tugging at his elbow asking him the weirdest and filthiest questions. The annual Christmas evening with his team was easier than that. But anytime his eyes met your figure, just appreciating the view, glancing over the perfect fitted dress in the same dark royal green he adored on you so much, the same color all the shirts he sent you were. Not to mention the wonderful cut out cleavage that already made him drool when he first saw it on you this morning. And anytime he would meet your glance, a smile tugging at your lips, and he knew it was worth going through this.

“So how long are you dating?”, Caro asked him with a smile on her lips. “For about six months.”, he answered not even looking at her. His eyes were pinned on the way you playfully danced with you little nephew on your arms right now. He adored the view too much. The sheer thought that someday it might be your – his - own child you’d sway in your arms. It made his heart jump. “Interesting.”, she only said smug. That’s what caught his attention more. “Pardon?” – “Well, my sweetheart of sister said, that you aren’t dating. Just testing waters and stuff.”, she rose a brow playfully at him and he laughed. “Of course.”, he shook his head. He never told you, but he was obsessed with the thought of calling you his, and his alone. You awakened a longing in him, that he thought he never had. Growing from sexual pleasure to pure intimacy. Into something even more. You became the reason for him to return. You became the home to his soul. “Something else she told you?”, he asked sipping on his drink. “Don’t wanna push your ego, but that you’re the best one she ever had.” A wide smile tugging at his lips, not even his neat beard could cover now. “That’s reciprocity.” His smile even grew wider when you walked over to them. Jim on your arms, the boy clinging onto the hem of your dress. Isabelle, next to you with Jill in her arms.

John didn’t wait any second to sling an arm around your waist, not disturbing the peace of the little boy, but pulling you close in his side. A slight blush crawling around your cheeks. It was the first time he actual showed some PDA at the festive. It made your stomach flutter. “What were you talking about.”, Isabelle asked bluntly, while handing her daughter to Caro. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”, John smiled, and you rose a brow at him. Not believing a word he said.

Just then your mum, and grandma also joined the circle you just had formed. That’s when Jim once more confused you for his own mother. Tugging at one of your breasts and it made you giggle. You were used to the little boy trying to get your attention that way. Usually, his mother would feed him when he started that little act, already trying to tear the hem of your dress a bit downward. Something so innocent and natural for the little boy, wat didn’t go unnoticed by John. He couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous. It wasn’t your kid; he shouldn’t behave like that around someone else than his own mother. So, he leaned down to the kid. "That one belongs to me kid, go back to your own mum's", and whispered to him. It made your giggle stop immediately and your cheeks were now burning from heat. When you hoped nobody heard it, you were wrong. Isabelle and Caroline just laughed wholehearted, while Isabelle took the boy out of your arms. Your hands immediately covering your face, while he pulled you closer in his side. Leaning down to your ear and whispering really low this time. “Am I wrong though, love?”, he kissed your cheek before leaning back again. “What did he just said?”, your grandma asked and now your mom joined the laughter of your sisters. “Nothing.” You cried out louder than necessary. John placed another peck onto the crown of your head, the winning smile never leaving his face. “John, move over here!.”, Mike yelled over, and he walked satisfied over to the patio, where Mike, your father and Caroline’s husband, Maxime where seated. Your mom just pushed her elbow in his side, “He’s a good catch. Hold on to him.”, you looked over, as he gladly accepted a cigar from your father. The blush was still on your cheeks, but a genuine smile was plastered on your lips. She was right.

It was quite late when John and you found a moment of peace with each other. Sitting on the patio, while your grandma was already deep asleep. Isabella and Mike already left with their children and Caro and Maxime dancing slowly a bit away, while your parents watched them, cuddled up at the swing hammock. John had his arms tightly wrapped around you, while you laid against his chest. Head leaning against him, his resting on top of yours, while you just enjoyed each other’s company. He then broke the silence, some thoughts he had to get out of his system. “Sorry, if I stepped a line.”, he breathed out calm, letting his hands stroke gently over your arms. “Don’t worry. Just seems like you’re stuck with the family already. Need to marry me now. No backing out from that one.”, you said jokingly. Remembering how much all your family already adored him. He indeed was the first guy you ever brought to such a gathering. He kissed the crown of your head. “If you let me, love.”, he said calm. There was no joking undertone, no smug grin on his face. That’s when you turned to face him, an utterly shocked expression on your face. It only made him giggle, before his pressed another kiss onto your forehead. A smile on his face. “Maybe we should start smaller than that, huh?” Your face relaxed when he let his lips brush over yours once more. Sensual, with all the love he had in him. “But I’m gonna make you mine. Be sure about that.”, he said while leaning his forehead against yours. “I’m already yours, John.” A bright smile never leaving your lips as you nodded, a smile he shared with no hesitation. Who said it wouldn’t be easy after all? With him at your side, everything became better and somehow easier.

[radioactive-earthshine]

Because I had all my fics locked down when I published this fic, I am making a new promo post.

Within the Rubble and Harvest

Status: Complete Words: 14118 Rating: Gen Main Tags: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Farm Life, Introspection Kon El-centric fic about him finding the name Conner Kent post-Superboy 1994 ending. Fic explores his relationship with Ma and Pa, Clark and John Henry Irons during the aftermath of the Our Worlds at War arc.

Summary

"Now, it’s your turn to start finding out about who you are. It’s time to live, not as Superboy, but as a boy, a person, you. And find as much of him as you can. And you know what? I know you are going to find him, whoever he is. Because you’re one of the bravest damn people I know with the biggest spirit.” Immediately following the destruction of Lee Lee's Apartment Complex in Metropolis Clark brought Kon El to Smallville to do something Kon had never done before; live normally, truly normal. But before he can really do that he needs only one thing. A name. Who knew choosing a name could be so hard.

Excerpt

Being at the Kents’ house alone doesn’t feel right to me, even if they all insist this is my home and I’m not an intruder or a replacement for Clark .  

I’m on edge, and I don’t want to even sneeze wrong, so when I am done with my turkey sandwich I make sure I leave everything exactly where I found it so there’s as little evidence that I existed as possible. Back at Cadmus I didn’t mind leaving my socks in the hallway even though I knew I’d get a lecture about it later. Why? I can’t even piece together why. 

Maybe I really didn’t care. 

No, I cared, I correct myself. I cared plenty but I just didn’t care about the small stuff. Like socks in the hallways or shuffling into the mess hall half-dressed with Waller breathin’ down my butt. 

If Jim or Dubby were here I think they’d tell me that sometimes caring about the small stuff tells everyone that you’re serious about the big stuff. Well Jimbo! You’d be happy! Here’s your no.1 boy, worrying about if he washed a plate correctly and put it in the dishrack inoffensively. Oh! And my room’s spotless! Only thing in there that’s mine is a pack of cheap underwear I picked up from a drugstore for only eight dollars, one set of civvie clothes, and a toothbrush. 

So on God I fucking care about the small stuff. I care about everything. A lot. It’s probably anxiety .

Damn, I’m rambling even in my head. 

I literally cannot shut up even when my mouth is closed. 

It’s literally not even 9AM yet!

[deskgirl]

Fandom: Our Flag Means Death Rating: General Main Characters: Wee John, Izzy Hands Setting: Post-season 2, "nobody dies/everybody lives" timeline

For the Izzy and Crew Event, a slice of life piece. I'm posting this here for now, but I'll upload to AO3 eventually.

Excerpt:

“What the fuck’s a leisure activity?” the man asked, growing more confused and frustrated.

“Stuff you like doing. Like having fancy drinks and blowing stuff up just for fun and telling people to fuck off when they’re wasting your time.” Wee John paused for emphasis, holding his drink aloft. “So fuck off.”

~

Sharing a Drink

~

A rum bottle flew across the crowded bar and shattered. Someone flung a chair in response. The gift of a thrown chair was clearly not appreciated as it was returned with equal force. A pistol went off, smoke pluming up from a third table totally uninvolved in the dispute but clearly annoyed by the disturbance. Rather than settling things, though, this only encouraged more thrown objects in more directions, a fair number of them sharp and pointy. This was generally ignored by everyone else in the bar as they were too busy getting drunk or cheating at cards.

Standard fare for a “den of iniquity,” as Stede liked to call these pirate-friendly dives. Or was it den of antiquity? Something like that. This particular den of inebriety had become the crew’s new favorite tavern until Jackie could get herself reestablished. In a lot of places, the beer was shit, but the bar here served decent stuff, barely watered down at all. The atmosphere was kind of bougie, but the prices weren’t bad and you hardly ever had to step over a dead body on your way to the outhouse. 

Wee John relaxed on a bench seat tucked against the wall, resting his back as he guarded the drinks the crew had left with him before scattering to the wind. John’s corner table provided a nice vantage point to watch the doors and his friends as they got up to their usual shenanigans. 

Frenchie and the Swede were doing something by the dice tables that would probably get them kicked out before the night was over, Jim was coaching a nervously laughing Oluwande through a game of darts against Archie and Zheng, and he thought he saw Lucius and Black Pete necking in the shadows by the coat rack. Zheng’s scary aunt had been here a minute ago, but John saw her slip out through the kitchen and knew better than to ask questions. 

“Whoa, look at you!” 

Wee John glanced sidelong at the man who’d staggered up to his table. He was about average as far as pirates went: a smattering of piercings, tasteful battle scar here and there, bit of gunpowder under the nails, short beard that needed a proper trim and oil, and a dusty leather jacket over what was probably the only shirt the man had to his name.

The unwanted visitor was also clearly deep in his cups, judging by his gaping expression and faint swaying. 

“Yer a big bastard,” the man continued. 

“That so?” Wee John asked as if it were news to him.

The other man paused, perplexed. “Yeah, mate.”

“You should see my brother. There’s a reason everyone calls me Wee John,” Wee John said, going back to sipping his drink. It was a fancy little thing in a narrow glass, orangey pink with a curl of grapefruit peel on top. He’d been feeling fancy when they all came in here riding high on their last raid, and nothing said fancy like a garnish. 

“I bet,” the other pirate laughed, dropping his hands to the table heavily. The crew’s drinks rattled and sloshed. “Let’s see what you can do, yeah? Arm wrestle, what’cha say?”

“No thanks. It’s my day off.”

“Your what?”

“My day off,” Wee John explained. “It’s like a mini vacation.”

“What’s a vacation?” 

“It’s a day when you don’t work. You’re supposed to do leisure activities.”

“What the fuck’s a leisure activity?” the man asked, growing more confused and frustrated.

“Stuff you like doing. Like having fancy drinks and blowing stuff up just for fun and telling people to fuck off when they’re wasting your time.” Wee John paused for emphasis, holding his drink aloft. “So fuck off.”

“You–!” The other man reared back, teeth bared, then lunged at Wee John. John distantly hoped that he’d come around the table instead of vaulting it. It’d be a real dick move if he knocked over everyone’s drinks. 

Suddenly the man went very still, his body hunched forward, arms out and shoulders stiff, all of his forward momentum halted by the feather-light touch of a blade at his throat. 

“I know you’re not fucking with my crew,” a familiar voice rasped from behind the drunk man. Izzy Hands stepped to the side and tilted his head so the unfortunate bastard could have a better look at who’d gotten the jump on him.

The drunk pirate’s eyes widened comically. “You’re…”

Izzy let the man flounder for a moment, clearly enjoying the recognition. “I am.” He eyed the other man up and down, taking his time, then sucked his teeth as if disappointed. God but he was a dramatic little shit. Wee John found it rather endearing now that it was being directed at someone else. 

“I didn’t know he was with you, Mr. Hands, I swear,” the man said. He still hadn’t moved and neither had Izzy’s knife. 

“That’s unfortunate,” Izzy said with a dash of fake sympathy. There was a long pause where John had the satisfaction of watching a fat drop of sweat roll down the man’s temple and into his beard. Then Izzy sniffed and slowly drew the blade away. “Luckily for you, I’m in an unusually good mood. Now, take my man Mr. Feeney’s advice and fuck off before I change my mind.” When the man continued to stand there, he made a shooing gesture with his knife.

As if an invisible cord had been cut, the man backpedaled wildly, bumped into someone behind him who spilled their beer and started swearing, then spun and ran off.

Izzy held himself tall for a moment longer before slowly deflating, leaning his hip against the table for support. Wee John recognized the signs of fatigue. The little man had pushed himself hard yesterday during the raid. Probably made himself sore the same as Wee John had with his back. 

“Hey,” Wee John called. When Izzy looked over, he patted the spot on the bench to his left.

Izzy hesitated before carefully shifting his weight and coming around the table. He startled when Wee John took hold of his elbow but didn’t protest the help as he eased himself down onto the bench. 

“Drink?” Wee John asked.

“You offering?” 

Wee John waved a hand at the table. “Crew’s offering.”

Izzy snorted softly as he perused the selection of abandoned drinks. After a bit of thought, he went for the half-tankard of ale. 

“Whose is this?” Izzy asked idly. He gave it a sniff before tipping it back to take a drink, not waiting for Wee John’s reply first.

“Archie’s,” Wee John said. “You know, I coulda handled that guy.”

“I know,” Izzy reassured as he wiped at the corners of his mouth with his thumb. “But like you said, it’s your day off. You’re not getting paid to work off the books so don’t bother.”

“That how you’re gonna play it?” Wee John gave his shoulder a squeeze. “You could just admit you like us, you stubborn little fucker.”

“I could also just jump in the bay.” 

Wee John chuckled. 

“Anyways, don’t act like I’ve done you any real favor.” Izzy gestured with his newly acquired tankard. 

When Wee John looked, he could see the drunk bastard who’d run off now sat at a table near the door and speaking heatedly to another man. He looked somewhat better kempt, with a long, red coat and dark hair tied at the nape of his neck. He was flanked by two bruisers who seemed intent on the conversation as well. 

“That’ll be his captain,” Wee John guessed. “They’re gonna jump us when we leave the bar.”

Izzy hummed in agreement.

“Should we tell the others? Leave out the back?”

Izzy eyed what was left in the tankard before throwing it back. He let out a satisfied sigh. “No need to ruin the crew’s fun. What’s a vacation without a bit of bloodshed?” 

“I don’t think you know what a vacation is.”

“Nope,” Izzy agreed. “Now pass me that drink with the lime wedge in it.”

[i-am-the-oyster]

Hi there, I also have a quick question about this post (Paul's guilt about hurting John, possibly evidenced in song notes during the making of RAM, and its source—that he left John, despite having promised not to).

Are you saying Paul felt guilty towards John, and knew why, during the making of RAM? And, if so, how would you square this with Paul's notorious 'grief rant' phonecall with Hunter Davies shortly after John's death, where Paul appears not only upset by the idea that he hurt John, but also unaware of what he could have done to cause this hurt?

"But what had really got Paul upset that day was an interview with Yoko in which Yoko was quoted as saying that Paul had hurt John more than any other person. Paul thought they were amongst the cruelest words he ever read." (Hunter Davies grief rant fun)

Was Paul bullshitting Hunter? (Go, Paul)

Was Paul being defensive and angry b/c Yoko blamed him for hurting John in public?

Was Paul not surprised to hear he'd hurt John (after all, they hurt each other often), but struck by the 'more than any other person' part?

I don't mean to say you're right or wrong. I'm just curious to hear you elaborate on this. Meaning, your take on Paul's guilt, and how accessible it was to him consciously. I've long been thinking about him hearing this claim, 'you hurt him more than anyone else', and how different that would have landed, depending on how aware/guilty he felt.

(Whether Paul was right to feel guilty or not is a completely different matter, and doesn't play a role on my question.)

Thank you for the wonderful meaty (sorry Paul!) ask!

I think Paul *did* feel guilty at the time, but I wouldn't exactly say Paul was bullshitting Hunter. The thing that always jumps out at me from that transcript is where Paul says:

There's only one incident I can think of that John has mentioned publicly.

(emphasis mine)

Isn't that an interesting distinction in the context? It makes me think that there were deeply private things that they each did to the other but Paul feels certain that those things would never end up the subject of public discussion.

I don't buy the image of Paul as lacking self-awareness or self-reflection. BUT he is extremely good at re-framing things in a positive way "so many times I had to change the pain to laughter" AND he is a very contrary person. He seems to often instinctively push against whatever narrative the person opposite him is proposing, especially where the topic needs some nuance. (eg the one time he approaches the topic of Jim's violence is in response to Stern pushing Paul's own "idyllic childhood" bit).

So back to the version of their story that had in mind when I made my original post. (Which I'm not married to, but seems like a plausible scenario worth exploring). Paul and John are in a codependent relationship, John has clearly expressed his terror that Paul might leave (as he did with Cyn). John's behaviour has become erratic and (at least borderline) abusive. Paul knows that if he lets go John will "take a tumble", but he's exhausted and Linda is teaching him to take his own desires and needs into account in a much healthier way. (Not to suggest Paul was never selfish in the 60s lol, but he wasn't practicing actual self-care).

John is spiraling, and pushing Paul away in that heartbreaking pattern I call "see I knew you were going to leave". (I'm sure there must be a name for it in psychology). Linda doesn't yet realise the depth of feeling she's dealing with. Paul knows how terrified John is, he's promised he won't be like the others, he won't leave. But he can't do it any more. John finally convinces him that he actually wants him to leave, he bawls his eyes out in front of Mal, and he disappears to Scotland.

I think he would be absolutely wracked with guilt.

And then I think as part of his recovery from that depression he would reassure himself that he did need to leave, that it was the right choice, that he and John could continue to care about one another deeply and move on.

I think Yoko's statement was unnecessarily cruel hurt him, and triggered that contrary response. What's she even talking about? What did I do? The worst ever?!

Thanks again!

[t0ast-ghost]

Here’s my thoughts on Star Trek V: The Final Frontier

There’s swear words, star trek, and spoilers oh my!

Start it up:

- “The planet of galactic peace.” Somehow. I don’t believe that.

- This guy on his horse looks like death

- “Let us explore it together.” Come take my hand. Let us take ibuprofen together.

- It’s hard to dislike Sybok when he smiles like that so they have to add in a somewhat evil laugh

- Epic music is a go (Music by Jerry Goldsmith)

- “‘You’ll be able to relax’ you call this relaxing? I’m a nervous wreck. If I’m not careful I’ll end up talking to myself.” Kirk convinced him to come here and now he has to watch his idiot husband climb a rock

- Kirk knows Spock and McCoy are there to catch him when he falls but goddamnit if they aren’t both really tired of his shit

- No but seriously what is with science fiction and thinking ‘yeah there’s a race of cat people’ looking at you too doctor who

- Caithlin Dar is awesome already.. I don’t trust Talbot (edit: haha too bad they’re characters don’t really do anything anyway)

- Scotty narrating is my favourite actually

- UHURA IS AWESOME

- are Uhura and Scotty dating?

- “Admit it. We’re lost!” “All right, we’re lost. But we’re making good time.” Didn’t know I needed Sulu and Chekov to go hiking together but I do

- “Yes uh- yes, we’ve been caught in a blizzard.” *Chekov starts blowing into the microphone* god I love them. He just went with it!

- Bones ringing the triangle out of spite and love

- The husbands sitting down and eating beans. Why would they make star trek about literally anything else

- Coming back strong with the extra wh sound (it was in the last movie when McCoy said whales)

- The trivia panel is telling me that one of the goofs is Kirk calling Tennessee whiskey bourbon and it looks like something Spock would write

- McCoy laughing and talking about Spock’s Vulcan metabolism and Spock indulging by saying he’s also half human and McCoy responding with “well it certainly doesn’t show” to which he knows Spock’ll take as a compliment. Yes I do need old married mcspirk.

- “You know, you two could drive a man to drink.” Then Kirk with all the innocence and nonchalance in the world says, “me? What did I do?” “What did you do? You really piss me off, Jim.”

- McCoy is lecturing Kirk cause he can’t take anymore of his almost dying bullshit

- “I knew I wouldn’t die because the two of you were with me.” “I do not understand.” “I’ve always known I’ll die alone.” I’m about to cry because this is true. He dies in a distant future without either of them. Thinking about it they all somewhat die alone. Maybe Spock was there for McCoy but we never see his death. And Spock dies in an alternate past :(((

- “It’s a mystery to me what draws us together…Other people have families.” “Other people, Bones, not us.” They are each other’s family.

- SPOCK ROASTING A MARSHMALLOW (not sure why they call it a ‘marsh melon’)

- This is the silliest thing they could have possibly put in a movie (this is like a comfort fic but a movie and I am so here for it)

- “God, I liked him better before he died.” McCoy is getting nasty and Kirk is now like ‘well time to sleep’

- “Life is not a dream.” “Go to sleep, Spock.”

- Why is the head Klingons outfit so cunty. Why’re the Klingons so silly?

- They caught Spock in his jammies

- “Well gentlemen, it seems shore leave has been cancelled.” They can’t go on ONE DATE

- Why’re they huddled together on the ship like that?

- “‘All I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by.’” “Melville.” “John Masefield.” “Are you sure about that?” “I am well versed in the classics, Doctor.” “Then how come you don’t know Row, Row, Row Your Boat?” Spock makes the most frowny and tired face imaginable. I think McCoy was justified in biting back there cause imagine you wake up, get in a shuttle, and then get corrected. All I’m saying is Spock was being a bit of a know it all (wouldn’t have him any other way)

- “*laughs* I don’t think I’ve ever seen him happier.” McCoy is so jolly in this one

- The yeoman with Kirk’s jacket is played by Shatner’s daughter

- HE ACTUALLY HAS A SHIRT THAT SAYS ‘go climb a rock.’ omg

- That fucking outfit oh my goodness

- “What’s the matter, Jim?” “I miss my old chair.” And then it switches to Spock who’s going :[

- Love how the Klingons all know who Kirk is. Like he’s THAT important

- Aww Kirk can’t write his diary :((

- Their silhouettes are so cute (34:06) (also they look like how aliens coming out of a spaceship look, I just think that’s neat)

- McCoy has to turn on the lights like, ‘stop sulking in the damn dark.’

- “Imagine that, a passionate Vulcan.” What McCoy? You want Spock to be more passionate?

- “This is Captain Pavel Chekov speaking.” He’s so silly for that. But also it’s probably best he doesn’t say ‘acting captain’ as that would arouse suspicion cause as everyone knows the captain is always the first to go on dangerous away missions

- What’s going on? Why is Uhura dancing ? What.

- What. Was. That. Scene. Why.

- “Spock.” “Yes, captain?” “Be one with the horse.” “Yes, captain.” Oookay

- “Hold your horse, captain.” Good one.

- Spock just. He just nerve pinched that horse.

- Spock does not know how to deal with seeing his estranged brother again (yeah I was spoiled) so, “you are under arrest for seventeen violations of the neutral zone treaty.” Is what he went with

- Sybok complimented and then winked at Kirk HE IS TAKEN

- “We’re going to forego the tractor beam and fly her in manually.” “Manually?” “How often have you done this?” “Actually it’s my first attempt.” Personally wouldn’t trust anyone else to attempt that other than Sulu. He is THAT bitch (/pos)

- EXPLOSION!!!!! CRASHHHH

- whooo space stuff! Sorry the photon torpedo just missing as the enterprise went into warp was cool

- Spock’s got a gun!

- McCoy comes out of the ship and is so confused and looks to Spock and Kirk

- Ohhh no. Sybok is gonna do his thingy magic thing to Sulu and Uhura with Scotty watching ‘em from above

- “What you have done is betray every man on this ship.” “Worse. I have betrayed you. I do not expect you to forgive me.” “Forgive you? I ought to knock you on your goddamn ass.” “If you think it would help.” “You want me to hold him, Jim?” “You stay out of this. Why, Spock? Why?” Lots to think about in this dialogue. But I think McCoy offering to hold Spock is him going ‘Jim you’re overreacting can’t you see he’s already remorseful?’ I could be misreading but if you understand it as the idea of McCoy holding him down is so redundant because Spock is strong enough to get out of his grasp easily but probably wouldn’t resist in this moment then it’s just like aughhhhhh

- Also Kirk asking Spock to shoot someone is bad enough. But the fact that it was his brother…

- Kirk is in disbelief. He didn’t know his own husband has a brother (half brother technically. Same Spock same.)

- “Stop it, Jim! Spock could no more kill his own brother than he could kill you. If you want to punish him for what he’s done, why don’t you throw him in the brig? Besides, we’ve got bigger problems to deal with.” Bones not only defending Spock, but also getting them back on track

- Apparently both Gene Roddenberry and William Shatner didn’t like that Sybok was Spock’s brother. Roddenberry didn’t think that Sarek would have a child with another woman (I kinda agree but also Pon Farr would’ve made him become engaged to a Vulcan before he met Amanda, so it’s not completely unthinkable). And Shatner didn’t like it cause it was too much like ‘a soap opera plot line’ but they went with it so that Spock’s actions made sense with the way he acted towards Sybok. I personally like that Spock has siblings he never told anyone about. It’s funny.

- lmao this time Kirk gets to stand on top of Spock to reach something (See patterns of force)

- Spock talking about himself in the third person because he doesn’t want to admit that he couldn’t get out of the brig

- “The bond between these three is strong, difficult to penetrate. This will be quite a challenge.” IT’S CAUSE THEY’RE MARRIED

- It’s funny that- canonically - Sybok can sense a really strong bond between them

- Kirk and McCoy’s ass I mean- oh look it’s Spock. With rocket boots!

- Spock holding onto Kirk and McCoy for their dear lives

- “I believe I overshot the mark by one level.” “Nobody’s perfect.” McCoy keeps saying this to Spock and I think it’s healing. Also flirting.

- They’re lit really nicely

- McCoy is NOT having this “Sounds like brainwashing to me.” You’re so right, back OFF Sybok

- (drawable moment 1:08:17)

- “Your pain is the deepest of all. I can feel it. Can’t you?” OH WAIT WE GET TO SEE MCCOYS PAIN WHAT

- I have no words for this scene. Holy Shit.

- Forced therapy

- Oh they all get to see each others pain cause they’re connected

- Spock gets to see his own birth… why. What.

- young Sarek 😧😳😳😳

- “So human.” YOU FUCKED THE HUMAN SAREK. God he’s such a bitch.

- SPOCK FOR THE WIN!! He’s not leaving

- MCCOYS STAYING WITH HIS HUSBANDS!!! YEAH LETS GOOO! (Personally I don’t think McCoy would go with Sybok at all, but I wasn’t sure what the writers were gonna do and I was scared they would make him leave)

- I know we’ve moved on from this but maybe Sarek saying that Spock was human was like saying ‘he’s got your eyes’ like comparing Spock to Amanda in appreciation. We’ll never know but it’s still a bitchass thing to say.

- Kirk has a plaque with ‘To boldly go where no man has gone before’ what a nerd

- They’re really hot in their uniforms

- hi god

- Kirk wants to ID god. Fair enough.

- There’s McCoy in the corner. Losing his religion

- “I doubt a God who inflicts pain for his own pleasure.” YEAH McCoy’s not standing for this shit

- Oh so Sybok wasn’t the enemy. Yeah that’s a good ending for his character. Saying bye to sock and asking for forgiveness

- “Beam up Spock and Dr. McCoy now.” “Now, just a damn minute-” Kirk said that so fast so that his husbands couldn’t argue with him

- “I am a foolish old man.” “Damn you, sir. You will try.” Spock ain’t fucking around. Also he picked up a couple of words from McCoy

- “I thought I was going to die.” “Not possible, you were never alone.” Throw me out an airlock I need some air

- SORRY the immediate moment after that was SO MUCH WORSE “Please, captain. Not in front of the Klingons.” THEY WERE ABOUT TO MAKE OUT SLOPPY

- “Cosmic thoughts, gentlemen?” “We were speculating. Is god really out there?” They were having a nice quiet conversation and it’s a shame they didn’t show it :(

- KIRK TALKING ABOUT SAM??? Oh no he was implying it was Spock

- this ending- I’m not okay.

Unfortunately I really enjoyed this one. William Shatner made a movie that was so shippy and was oblivious to it the entire time.

I know it took a really long time for me to post this one because I wanted to watch undiscovered country first, I haven’t watched it yet but I felt I needed to finally edit and post this one. I hope you enjoyed my silly little thoughts.

Star trekking across the universe. Get that stuck in your head.

Masterpost

[merseydreams]

hi mersey! i saw your post on the way john and paul were weird about each other in re: their wives and the break-up and stuff. are there ways that they were weird or romantic or even just "different from other friendships" before all of that? in your opinion?

i supporse i mean, are there ancedotes or things about them that raise your mclennon eyebrows pre-break-up?

Hi anon! yes in fact i do think they were weird and romantic and different from other friendships even before any of the india/yoko/linda/break-up stuff comes into it -- only, it's a little hard to quantify because a lot of it is vibes and sharing looks and almost making out over microphones and cracking each other up rather than specific anecdotes.

but ok here are a few McLennon Lore examples that make me go hmmmm:

everything about the day they met and how romcom/meet cute it was, particularly in the way they describe it: paul saying john was the only one he noticed in the band; john loving elvis and saying paul looked like elvis; paul trying so hard (and succeeding) to impress john; john immediately knowing he wanted paul in his band. i mean, paul regularly talks about the way john smelled on that day.

the Lennon/McCartney name decision. these two teenagers decided almost right away that they were going to merge their last names and that even when they wrote songs individually they'd both get a songwriting credit. like, they knew so quickly that they trusted and respected each other and wanted to merge their talents and present the merged version to the world? it's such a commitment. partners forever.

the Paris trip. john getting all that money and wanting to spend it on taking Paul and only Paul on a holiday. the way their girlfriends and bandmates were mad at them for fucking off and canceling plans and shows. the two of them taking pictures of each other like a couple on their honeymoon. Paul using his own money to buy John a birthday dinner. the fond and romantic way they both talked about that trip for the rest of their lives.

the jealousy! the insane instances of jealousy! john crashing young paul's date and being a total nightmare to the girl. paul fighting stu. john cutting up a woman's dress. paul pouting his way through Tenerife because john went away with brian. john being awful to jane when he saw paul's interest. paul storming out of a recording session because john worked on a song with george. lol

the LSD story. all the high school drama of John wanting Paul to do LSD with him and Paul doing it with Tara instead and John being mad about it. the DRAMA. Then finally doing it together because Paul had to take LSD to be there for John during a bad trip. His man needed him!!!! and then they stared into each other's eyes for hours and "dissolved into each other" and paul had a vision of john as the emperor of eternity. ok gay boys

Those are the ones that come to mind first but there are other things I could also talk about like paul defending john unconditionally, always; their flirty little beetle crawl; playing tragic lovers/naming kittens after those lovers; john having The McLennon photo up in his music room; paul quitting his job because john told him to/john saying paul chose him over Jim. um or what about the fact that they wanked together.

[1lostsoul0fishbowl]

been feeling suuuuper down about myself and my writing lately, so i decided to go back and pick out some snippets i was especially proud of, and maybe occasionally share a few here.

this first one is from little help chapter 41, titled “i walk alone” (because that song was giving me such ‘lost and aimless steve nostalgically pining for nancy’ vibes). the chapter was about steve returning home after traveling with his parents for a few months. he’s attempting to get back into the swing of things with his friends, but somehow nobody told him about the demise of mileven/onset of greatmage, and he has a rather explosive reaction.

i’m starting here because i’m very intimidated by trying to write steve and i don’t usually think i do a good job with him, but i felt happy with my interpretation of him here. enjoy. 😘

“Jumping right back into babysitting, eh?” Eddie teases, and Steve realizes with a jolt that as much as he complains about being the babysitter, there is nothing else he’d rather be doing. Spending time with his parents for the last few weeks— or was it months? who even knew anymore?— had been such a painful shallow void. There was nothing to do but look the part; be paraded around like an elite accessory to make his parents seem more… something, caring or doting or possibly just human. Stand here and be pretty, Steven. But for goodness sake don’t talk to anyone. You have nothing important to say. No career, no fiancée, no aspirations of any kind. Nobody wants to hear about your little high school friends and your movie rentals, Steven. Just wear that new three piece suit— the blue one, not the gray— and smile. Yes, that’s our son. Quite a heartthrob, isn’t he?

He knows he could be so much more, if he could only figure out what more he wanted to be and which direction to head in to get there.

Quickly shaking off the dismal thoughts, he smacks Eddie’s hand away from swiping another one of his cookies, and casually says, “Gotta stick with what I’m good at, right?” Eddie laughs, and Steve relaxes. Good. He’s starting to remember how to be himself again. And he’s willing to scorch his eardrums with heavy metal for an hour or two if only for the sheer pleasure of being invited, being remembered, being wanted. Nobody in his parents’ circle of acquaintances (were they even really friends?) seemed to actually want him around, not even them. Eddie seems overjoyed at the prospect of his company, reminding him that the rest of his friends (and his are real, actual friends) will be too.

But he feels a little strange when he walks into the club later that night. A little awkward, a little lost. (Like everyone else is too busy having fun to notice him?) Robin is already there, but she and Vickie are chatting and laughing about something with the bass player whose name Steve can never remember. He’s not sure he remembers any of the Coffin guys’ names, come to think of it. The three of them have always sort of lumped into one amorphous mass of “Eddie’s bandmates” in the peripherals of his mind. Is it because they aren’t part of the Party, so they’re not important? He frowns at himself. That sounds like something his parents would say. Tonight, Steve decides, he should actually try to talk to these guys and then the next time he sees them he’s determined he’s going to remember their names.

Where is everybody else? He spots Mike, Dustin, and Will up front by the stage, talking with Eddie and the other guitarist (John? Jim? J-something) while they set up. Lucas, Max, and El are hanging out with Red Plaid Flannel Guy who by process of elimination must be the drummer. Steve rolls his eyes at himself, scolding himself to cut it out. He’s being such a snob and he doesn’t even mean to. All that time with his parents has really done a number on his brain. A night with his real friends will do him a world of good.

But wait. Something is weird here. Something’s wrong. Why isn’t El with Mike? He’s right there with them, talking to Lucas now, and El is by Max, but Flannel McFloppyhair is standing way too close to her, and for some reason he’s got his arm around her shoulders, and he’s leaning in looking for all the world like he’s about to kiss her and why the hell doesn’t this seem crazy to anybody but him?

Steve doesn’t think, he just reacts. In approximately two seconds he’s across the room and wrenching Flannel away from El by the collar of his shirt, holding him fast with one hand and swinging hard with the other, and in the approximately two seconds before his fist connects with the kid’s face he belatedly realizes two things: one, that El had actually had her arm around Flannel’s waist; and two, that she had looked completely relaxed and happy and almost like she was eagerly anticipating the kiss she’d been about to receive when he—

CRUNCH

Overlapping screams echo around him, including a stunned and pain-filled yelp of “Jesus Christ, Harrington!” from Flannel, and somehow that’s the worst part of this whole confusing thing, that this guy knows Steve’s name and Steve can not, for all that is holy, recall his.

He’s surrounded in an instant by Eddie and Jamie (or is it Joe?) and T.B. Player, and the other two band guys hustle Flannel away somewhere, probably to clean him up— in all Steve’s years of fighting he doesn’t think he’s ever seen somebody’s nose bleed that much that quickly— while Eddie looks at Steve as if he’s just sprouted two extra heads, before stating (shouting) rather eloquently (furiously), “What, and I cannot stress this enough, the actual fuck, Stevie?”

“I— what— he was— what are you yelling at me for?” Steve protests, well aware he’s made a huge mistake but completely unable to process what it was. “What the fuck, yourself, man! What is going on here? Mike, are you okay?”

Honestly, Mike looks like he’s trying not to laugh, and if Steve had been asked to try and guess his reaction that is not at all what he would’ve picked. El, on the other hand, is on the verge of tears, and Max seems like she’s seriously considering punching Steve the way he’d just punched— goddammit what is that guy’s name? Dustin and Eddie, meanwhile, are exchanging puzzled glances.

“Oh shit, he doesn’t even know,” Dustin suddenly blurts out.

“You didn’t tell him?” Eddie demands, voice high-pitched with disbelief. “I thought that would’ve been the first thing you guys told him.”

“Obviously not, and how come you didn’t think to tell him?”

“Can someone tell me now, please?” Steve says faintly. He clearly owes either Mike or El an apology, but he still has no clue what for.

Surprisingly, it’s Mike himself who finally speaks. “El and I aren’t together anymore.” He genuinely doesn’t seem bothered by that, and Steve stares at him in bewilderment. “Haven’t been for awhile now. We’re just friends again. So, uh, thanks for defending my honor, I guess, but— totally not necessary.”

“Gareth is my boyfriend,” El adds in a stunned whisper, and Steve just barely manages to catch himself by the skin of his teeth before he says ‘who’s Gareth?’ Gareth, of course, is Flannel Guy. When the hell did all of this happen? El is gazing at him with wide, wounded eyes. “You hurt him,” she adds, voice trembling a little, and he honestly wishes the floor would open up beneath him and swallow him whole. “Why would you hurt him, Steve?”

“I— I didn’t know. I thought he was— and you were— Jesus, El, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I thought he was bothering you.” Steve looks helplessly around at his friends. Is he imagining things or are they looking at him oddly? How come nobody told him? And more importantly, why hadn’t he just asked, instead of flying off the handle like that? He’d done exactly what his father would do; assessed a situation without having all the facts, drawn entirely the wrong conclusion, and confidently acted on his judgement without regard for the consequences to others. Now his knuckles are splattered with someone else’s blood and El is crying and if Max is actually going to murder him he wishes she would hurry up and get it over with.

“I’m sorry. Really. I’m so sorry, everyone, honest. I’ll— should I go make sure he’s okay?” Steve doesn’t wait for an answer. An awkward conversation with a guy he’s just punched sounds infinitely better than staying here with his friends all looking at him like that and the shadow of his father’s self-satisfied smile patterned across his fist. “I’ll be right back. I’m really sorry.” He ducks away abruptly and rushes in the direction the other guys had headed.

The bassist and Julian (or maybe it’s Jorge) are just coming out of the bathroom as Steve approaches, and he notices they both immediately move out of his way, eyeing him warily, like he’s a stranger’s dog who may or may not be inclined to bite. “Guys, I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” he tries to explain, but they’re already hurrying away from him. Great. It’s high school all over again. Had his parents, in just a few short weeks, turned him back into King Steve, terrorizing the freaks, way too focused on his father’s ideas of who were and were not suitable friends? Was that why he’d reacted so violently, was it the thought that someone was with El who wasn’t supposed to be?

Jesus Christ. He exhales sharply, pushing the bathroom door open. Gareth— well, Steve’s never going to forget his name ever again, at any rate— is just scrubbing the last traces of blood from his face with a handful of damp paper towels. Steve can already tell there’s a wicked black eye forming. “I’m sorry, man,” he blurts out immediately. “Is anything broken?”

“If I say no,” Gareth cautiously asks, “are you gonna try to finish the job?”

“What? No! I came to apologize. I didn’t know you were dating El. I… I haven’t been around for a little while.” It isn’t good enough. What could he possibly say that would be good enough?

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

I think you could title this next scene. Awkward in the bullpen. -Jenna

Oh, this phone call's so cringey and so real. -Angela

So sad. It's between Pam and Jim and they're just trying so hard to have a lighthearted conversation. And you can imagine that this conversation where Pam is like, ah, Cece started calling me Pamela. You know, watch out. She might start calling you Jim. -Jenna

And then they have nothing else to say. -Angela

It's like there was a time when that little tidbit would have delighted them, you know. -Jenna

And would've just led to a natural easy conversation. I thought the scene was so well written. It really shows how disconnected Jim and Pam are. And I thought you guys played it perfect. And I had to ask Jen about it. Here's what she had to say. -Angela

We ended up shooting the phone call between Pam and Jim with John and Jenna on the set. And we shot it with them talking into the cell phone. And, I Think I was on set with Jenna. And then I was able to give notes over to John And. I. Love that scene. I mean, love's a weird word 'cause it's just awkward and a bit sad and distant. But I like that it felt very real as opposed to, I feel like we talked about versions or things where what they were talking about was more, a little bit more of a disjointed thing or a disconnection. But what I kind of love is that it's just the silence, the space between the pauses, the looks, all the things that were my favorite in terms of digging into things at the office. And I just thought that they performed it so well. The feeling of of disconnect and Pam a bit yearning and wanting for it to be made better and, and Jim being uncomfortable and not being sure how to, how to fix it. -Jen

Well, I remember shooting this scene and you know, there's this moment where Pam is like, Hey, your assistant said that Ryan Howard is coming into the office. What's that about? And Jim's like, no, no, no. Ryan Howard the first baseman for the Phillies. And she's like, oh yeah. I thought that would've been weird. And you know, this is obviously a big meeting for Jim. -Jenna

Why is Pam hearing about it from his assistant? Why haven't they talked the night before and he says, Hey, I have a big day tomorrow. Here's what's going on. -Angela

Yeah, it, it's a little confusing. And actually Pam would've gotten kind of snarky with him at the end of this phone call. We shot it, they cut it. But Pam was gonna say, well, I hope it was worth leaving early yesterday for this. And Jim was supposed to say, do you really hope that or is it more fun for you to be mad at me? Yeah. Well, John And I did not love that ending, especially since we knew that Pam was gonna end up seeing Brian later. We didn't love the idea that Jim and Pam would be kind of like in an in a fight. When she goes to see Brian, we thought, fine, if there's like that distance, they're not connecting. So we took that out. -Jenna

This scene of them so disconnected was enough. -Angela

Enough. It's Jim and Pam. It's scary enough. -Jenna