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land-of-brains-and-chocolate · 3 years

Note

Rec list for Eddie and Symby being vaguely to very gay?

I'm sorry for coming to you with my monsterfucker agenda 😔👊 (no I'm not)

i mean, i probably could’ve seen this coming.

venom is dominated by two opposing narratives. let’s call this the “relationship narrative” and the “control narrative”. they’re not perfectly separated, like, you’ll definitely get elements of one in the other, but generally one of them describes what the story, at its core, is using the symbiote for.

now comics are an endless tug-of-war at the best of times, much less the gayest and slimiest of times. there’s a neverending backlash and backbacklash going on between these two takes. what you want is the relationship narrative.

everything very much started out with that take. eddie and the symbiote are two characters who forge an evil alliance because it lets them do what they wanna do (kill spider-man, more or less) and they have the same kinds of neuroses and complexes and syndromes. lots of early comics are also very fun about the merged consciousness, merged identity deal. that’s kind of the textbook relationship stuff.

personally i absolutely think the original stories (venom was created by david michelinie) have romantic undertones, even starting in the villainy days. eddie describes their first meeting as “a shadow moved, caressed me.” he takes the rejection of the symbiote still being “in love with” spider-man really hard. he sobs his eyes out when he thinks it’s dead and promises to avenge it bare-handed. they totally expect to live happily ever after on a deserted island together.

then there’s venom: lethal protector, which is cute on its own, but if you’re reading for slime romance, i very specifically recommend the novelisation. i won’t even spoil it. and then, planet of the symbiotes is the first comic that i would say has outright queer themes, intentional or not.

so all those recs until now are collected in this post.

we're trucking along through the 90s, we explore elements of one take and then the other and sometimes we ignore the symbiote completely, but not too much changes, overall. the next BIG stop in Gay Venom is, of course, the hunger.

miniseries by len kaminski, just venom: the hunger. plenty of people have written their essays on it, but what’s always important to me is that it DID NOT come out of nowhere. as said above, it expanded on themes that were there, it references michelinie venom very explicitly, like you get your SECOND “tenderly touching the green glass tube” scene.

but yes this one is specifically about, like, stigmatisation, otherness, mental illness, meeting all those things with care and empathy and optimism, tentacle sex. again, many essays. a venom comic that can go “look at the twisted deviance of this relationship” and then turn it around into “but how are you looking at it” is good. god how good would it be if they also did that to eddie more. anyway.

a few years later you get the first MAJOR fucking backlash, culminating in the SECOND story titled the hunger. spectacular spider-man: the hunger, from 2003. completely reboots venom and retcons their motivations and backstories, makes very spiteful references to planet of the symbiotes and the hunger, like it is not also called that by sheer coincidence. literally starts out, in a comic that wants to tackle and redefine venom, with the line “the PROBLEM is that you guys are like an old married couple”. so the new status quo is that the symbiote only ever used eddie to be with spider-man, and eddie only ever used the symbiote to not die of cancer.

the “control narrative” that really kicks in here uses the symbiote as, you know, a thing to control, eddie’s demons personified or even a completely foreign force to torment him. if eddie is evil, it’s not because of what he thinks and believes and wants, it’s because he couldn’t control the symbiote and gave in to its inexplicable bloodlust.

this is an unambiguous downgrade in terms of complexity, in my humble opinion, completely fucks up eddie’s responsibility themes, and is also a pretty clearly petty reaction to venom’s absolute oversaturation in the nineties. the bitch was everywhere and most of it wasn’t good. so there was LOTS of “look at this creepy loser” content by writers cringing themselves into self-awareness at the time. the 00s were going to be GRITTY and MATURE.

this of course means that we get to see eddie slit his wrists and bleed to death on panel after selling the symbiote to supervillains as an attempted act of redemption???

wild fucking times! it’s not exactly worth recommending as ~shippy~, but the first real backbacklash to this first round of retcons comes from dan slott, who just kind of ignores it all in new ways to die. drags eddie back to the land of the living and relevant, makes the symbiote refuse to let its new host kill him, telling that host, and reestablishing, that it loves eddie. and then, to keep him living and relevant, slott makes eddie anti-venom.

don’t even worry about it. anti-venom is essentially eddie seeking redemption with symbiote powers, but without the symbiote, except he pretty much acts no fucking different at all, just keeps on being a murderous vigilante with cracked ideas about innocence and guilt. people still act like he’s better now because, in its metatextual ways, the hunger was right.

then fucking uuuuuuhhhhhhh. agent venom. symbiote goes to flash thompson and the us military, and the writer, rick remender, goes really, really, really hard on the control narrative. the symbiote becomes a substance flash is addicted to, gives a voice to his past abuse, it’s dark times all the times.

people very much do like that narrative for flash, like at least from that perspective it was worth it. i don’t like it much for the symbiote. for the symbiote, representing everything fucked up with flash and forcing him to murder kill bite all the time is resolved via the good guy avengers literally lobotomising it so flash can wear it without further resistance or input. imagine doing that to a human person. you’re uncooperative so we’re gonna turn off your higher cognitive functions and wear you like a meat suit. happy ending for everybody! truly we’ve conquered our demons this day.

then! at the same time, there’s a cartoon coming out, it’s called ultimate spider-man. THAT one does the control narrative take with harry osborn, but then does the relationship take with flash, making it the only cartoon to outright redeem the symbiote and let it find friendship and be valued as a person.

and people loved it! so brian michael bendis gets it in his head that he’s going to redeem the symbiote and make it partner up with flash. and he does redeem it by the highly fucking questionable means of having it be “cleansed”, aka brainwashed and relieved of its memories and personality. not that it matters for long. nothing fucking matters in comics. take this with you if it’s the only thing.

so then for fun friendship times you get venom: space knight, flash and the symbiote’s adventures in space! and then that gets cancelled. eddie is off somewhere being toxin and hunting carnage (2016). many good comics but you did not ask for them.

and THEN.

it is time for the next MOTHER of backlashes.

flash gets literally discarded at fucking roadside to put the symbiote back on eddie and turn back time on their relationship to RIGHT before the FIRST backlash happened. you know, all those 2003 retcons. gone. ignored. no more. venom’s themes are now those circa 1996 again. full fucking on relationship narrative. ROMANTIC relationship narrative, and that after the symbiote was turned into eddie’s evil shadow, after he hated it and spent a LONG time seeking to eradicate all symbiotes (and not even for the first time).

the COSTA run. venom (2016). reviled and beloved.

like this comic is fucking ANGRY about symbiote treatment. i HAD to tell you all of that so you’d understand ANYTHING it’s doing. the first thing it does is flip it completely around, puts the symbiote on a military guy who’s making IT do bad things, makes his ability to control it horrifying and abusive instead of heroic and admirable. one of the later things it does (in the follow-up venom: first host) is outright feature a villain who lobotomises symbiotes, ending on a symbiote serving him swift and sweet payback by doing the same thing TO HIM. it’s exactly as unsubtle as the hunger (2003) was about its hang-ups.

comics... are a conversation.

flash remains a symbiote friend but still got fucked over big time by it all, symbiote-focused writers slott and costa also kind of use him to literally, in case anybody hadn’t caught on, literally spell out the REAL story that’s been going on in the writer's room for the past THIRTY YEARS:

you’ll notice i didn’t actually list any of the Gay Shit for you, you’ve probably already seen it or you’ll get to see it for yourself. yes, they are deeply in love, yes, it’s fucked up and flawed, yes, it is real and taken seriously and has ultimately redeeming potential. yes the concept of that nearly knocked me off my feet and in front of the subway at one point. yes there’s mpreg

it’s also fucking riddled with events, which spin off into other comics, so either ignore those and rely on the recaps OR click yourself forward through the “next issue (story)” button on marvel wikia to know what to read.

and after that must of course come the backbackbacklash, as certain as death or taxes. in the next run, we retcon everything once more, eddie just needs to control his darkness, the symbiote was an evil abuser all along, nothing on earth is ever new.

i’m not gonna go through it, i’m just gonna point you to the backbackbackbacklash issue that came out during this time: venom annual volume 2 number 1 - it’s confusingly named, it’s the one that has a blue-skinned space lady on it. this one ignores the backbackbacklash going on very pointedly and goes “it’s not ABOUT control” again, it’s pretty explicitly romantic.

and then there’s also marvel comics presents (2019) #5, which, oddly enough, does not particularly feature the characterisation you’d typically see in the relationship narrative? but it does feature eddie and the symbiote literally fucking, so you’d want to know about it.

that’s the overall, like, frame of eddie and the symbiote being in a relationship (nuh uh) (yeah they are) (NUH UH) (YEAH THEY ARE)

some stuff that’s smaller but still notable, uh.

nova (1999) 6 - 7, that’s the “we’re space married”

venom: dark origin, that’s an ALTERNATE (!!!) take on the character, don’t expect a likeable eddie but it’s very darkly funny and gay so what can i say.

venom: the end, which i would absolutely fucking hate to be canon, i think its characterisation is quite regressive, but the symbiote sure is in love, i guess.

venom: separation anxiety, the dawn of the control narrative but eddie’s characterisation did not have to go so wrong from here, like if they’d just figured out AT THIS STAGE that he's STILL acting like venom without it... i digress. it has the symbiote going eddie eddie eddieee

venom: sinner takes all, this is the first she-venom comic so that’s. hm. interesting. healing symbiote blanket

don’t read venom: license to kill just look at this panel with me

if i think of more comics worth adding i’ll add them.

the subtext slash text is heavy enough to be present to some degree in literally every cartoon adaptation of eddie brock. spider-man: the animated series goes FULL control narrative, in fact it started the “the symbiote corrupted peter” take that we to this day cannot escape, but the first few venom episodes are VERY playful about their relationship.

in spectacular spider-man it’s canon, but horrible. eddie’s in love with it, but eddie's a good boy and the symbiote is played very, very, very abusively. i think this is an evil symbiote adaptation that works well enough, at least it’s an actual meaningful character instead of just a malevolent force to resist.

in marvel’s spider-man, the only venom episode worth watching is venom returns.

i’ve actually got every symbiote-relevant episode listed right here from when we did our communal watch-through.

also watch truth in journalism. idk if it’s exactly shippy just do it

#venom #symbrock #tl;dr i wish i could tl;dr this #no off-site links to please the gods of tagging

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ineloqueent · 4 years

Text

party for one

Roger Taylor x Reader

synopsis: you’re not excited about your birthday, and have thus decided not to tell anyone about it. but then Roger finds out, and refuses to let it go.

warnings: swearing, drinking

word count: 2.8k

see moodboard here!

⭒

December, 1979

Turning thirty was not something you looked forward to.

It was a big number, the number at which everyone expected you to have your life together, be married and have children, have a steady job.

Well, you could check one of those boxes.

As the newly-appointed tour photographer for Queen, you were well-liked, and thus had no fears of unemployment in the near future.

You’d gotten quite close with the members of Queen over the past month, during the aptly-named Crazy Tour, sharing late nights and early mornings with the four musicians. Late nights and early mornings had a funny way of bringing out the true personalities of people, because lack of sleep meant that no one had a filter, and your mutual exhaustion had made you the best of friends with the band you were travelling with.

You liked to go dancing with John, when nobody else would, because Brian couldn’t dance for the life of him, and Roger hated disco, and Freddie was often busy.

You went with Brian to the science museums he wanted to visit in many of the cities where you stopped, because everyone else had had enough of his rambling. Brian was talkative when he was talking about something he cared about, and it was a sort of reprieve for you not to be the one talking— to tour managers, to publicists, to press, to the lighting department who spoke in riddles, to the security guards in various nations that did not speak English.

Freddie loved shopping, for anything and everything, and was ever so pleased to have a companion on his many expeditions in search of rare records, paintings, clothes.

And Roger… Well, Roger. What could you say about Roger?

Roger was the in-between moments. Not that he wasn’t around— because he was, and practically everywhere you looked— but because whenever things seemed to slow down, or grow drearily quiet, or when you stood at the eye of the storm that was the never-ending flood of work that came as part of your employment with Queen, Roger was there, with an easy smile and a striking insightfulness.

He became the quiet moments when he took you to see strange, foreign films on off-nights, showed you forgotten corners of sprawling cities across the continents, or called you over to read you a quote from whatever book was currently occupying his headspace.

One such night, you were sitting in the games room of a hotel, cleaning one of your cameras, as Brian and John attempted to beat one another’s pinball scores, as Freddie sat watching telly with a few friends, and a handful of crew members played an intense game of pool.

You had taken a seat on one of the two sofas in the room, leaving ample space, should someone else want to sit down, but Roger occupied an entire couch to himself, feet up at one armrest, head at the other. He’d been wearing headphones, plugged into a brand-new Sony Walkman portable cassette player, the one which both band and crew had gawked over when he’d first bought it, back in July. But now he took the headphones off, mussing his blonde hair— recently cropped— and sat up.

“Hey,” he said, and you looked up. “Come listen to this.”

With a small sigh, you carefully deposited your camera on the coffee table, and crossed over to the other side of the space to join Roger.

You flopped down at his side, and he looped his arm through yours, pushing his reading glasses up on his nose before softly clearing his throat.

“What is that feeling when you’re driving away from people,” he read quietly, “and they recede on the plain till you see their specks dispersing?”

“I don’t—”

“Shh,” Roger peered at you over his glasses, nudging your shoulder with his, “I’m not finished.”

“Oh,” you said. “Well, sorry. Go on, then.”

“It’s the too-huge world vaulting us,” Roger continued, “and it’s goodbye. But we lean forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies.”

“It’s beautiful,” you murmured.

Roger smiled. “It’s us,” he said, and then said nothing more, until you relaxed into his side and sat there with him as he read in silence, and your eyes fell shut and your mind fell into a dream.

With the days, the tour went on, and as the date of your birthday approached, you took great care to pretend that it did not.

But your birthday had always been an ordeal for you, and you weren’t doing particularly well at hiding the sense of impending doom that came over you, when there was only a week until the day.

John noticed, that much was obvious, but said nothing, ever respectful of your personal matters as you were of his.

Brian noticed, but only asked what was wrong in such a roundabout way that you felt inclined to say he had not noticed at all, or was too polite to ask directly.

Freddie noticed, and asked outright what was bothering you, but he did so right before going onstage, and refused to perform before you had answered his question. So you answered, albeit untruthfully, with a hurried, “Nothing!” to make him get the fuck onstage.

And Roger noticed.

He caught your arm the day before your birthday, as they were all departing the stage in the wake of raucous cheers, a towel slung around his neck as he caught his breath from the physical exertion that was playing the drums. He pulled you off to the side before you could protest, before Freddie and the others could drag the both of you off to some party, and looked at you in such a way you thought he’d stare right through your very heart.

“What?!”

“What’s wrong?” he asked, folding his arms with an inquisitive expression.

“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong.”

Roger snorted. “‘Course it is. You’ve been like this for weeks. What’s the matter?”

You shrugged your shoulders in discomfort, avoiding his gaze. “It’s—”

“If you say nothing one more time, I’ll go get Brian and ask him to explain zodiacal light, and we’ll be stood here for literal hours before we can get any sort of food or drink or bed. So spit it out, because I worry about you, and I promise I’ll leave you alone.”

He stared you down, and you felt a sudden compulsion to embrace him for having cared enough to ask about you, to take the time to ask about you.

With a heavy sigh, you conceded your secrets to him, as simply as had you been a book he’d opened, intending to read from cover to cover.

“It’s my birthday—”

He frowned, “When?”

“Tomorrow—”

“Tomorrow?” Roger balked. “Why the bloody hell didn’t you tell us? We would have organised something!”

“No, no, I don’t want you to make a fuss—”

“Well, what if I want to make a fuss?”

“You want to—”

He grasped your hand, and with the contact, your heart clenched. “You deserve to be fussed over,” he told you, earnestly. “Don’t you get that?”

Your mouth had fallen open, and you now pressed your lips together, glancing down at the floor.

“No,” you mumbled. “I don’t get that.”

“And so you’ve been living your life wrong,” said Roger. “Get that into your head, love.”

It was strange, how words so simple could strike a chord, but there was a lump in your throat when you swallowed, and when you nodded, you couldn’t look at him.

“C’mon,” he said. “Let’s go back to the hotel. I’m sure you’re as tired as I am.”

You nodded again, avoiding his eyes, and he set off.

He didn’t let go of your hand.

You didn’t mind.

And as testament to Roger’s assertion, when you had parted from him and gone to your hotel room, you’d changed and fallen asleep as soon as your head had hit the pillow.

The following day was your birthday, and a day without a scheduled show, so you slept in. No one would miss you for a few hours, you thought, and indeed, no knocks roused you from your sleep until you got up, well into the afternoon.

You ran into Freddie in the hallway, and, suddenly possessed by the notion that you should do something fun on your birthday, even if no fuss was to be made, you asked Freddie if he wanted to go with you to see a movie, and where the others were, should they wish to come as well.

“No, sorry darling, I’ve got a thousand things to do before tomorrow, and I’m afraid I’ve got no idea where anyone else is.” He pursed his lips. “In fact, I’ve been looking for those three idiots for the better part of an hour.”

“That’s… rather strange,” you said, in all honesty.

“Rather,” Freddie agreed. Then he clasped his hands. “I’m going to keep looking for them, if you don’t mind. But enjoy your film, and I’ll see you at dinner?”

Your heart dropped, but of course, the great Freddie Mercury was a busy man, so naturally, this was to be expected. “See you at dinner,” you replied, and let him be on his way.

You wandered the hotel for a little while, perhaps ten minutes or so, before you came upon Brian, who had pink-flushed cheeks and wore quite the coat— bulky, and oddly overstuffed, like some sort of armchair.

“Hey,” you said in greeting. “Freddie’s looking for you.”

“Freddie’s— oh, is he? Right. Well. Better find him then before he loses his temper, ha ha.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Are you okay, Brian?”

“What?” he folded his arms around his body, in an awkward fashion, because he was clearly not accustomed to the bulk upon his frame. “Nothing. I mean, yes, I’m fine, yes. I’ll go find Fred.”

And then he hurried down the hall, before you could open your mouth to ask him if he was free to go see a film.

“Never mind,” you muttered, and proceeded in the direction you had been going before.

Two down, two left. This was truly going to be a rotten birthday, if you were to go to see a film on your own. Not that there was anything wrong with that, aside from the glaring fact that you didn’t actually feel like being alone.

You found Deacy in the lobby, leaning his elbows on the counter as he called to the person using the phone in the adjacent room.

Approaching him, you realised he was talking to— or rather, talking at— Roger, who had leaned out of the room, one hand covering the mouthpiece of the telephone.

Roger’s gaze met with yours briefly, before his eyes widened and he hissed to John something that sounded distinctly like shut up.

John saw you then, and smiled as you approached.

“Hello, Y/N. How’s it going?”

“Fine,” you responded airly, feigning a happy demeanour. “You?”

“Lovely,” said John. “Just getting Rog to make a few phone calls about the next show.”

You shook your head, puzzled. “The next show?”

“Mmyes. There was a mix-up with some gear, last time, so we thought we’d get onto it ourselves, so we know exactly what’s going on. Hands-on, you know?”

“Yeah,” you answered slowly, though in actual fact this made absolutely no sense to you, and you were sure that it made no sense to the person who had spoken it.

“Finished, Roger?” John called back to his friend, his tone more warning than inquisitive. You wondered why.

A muffled, bell-like sound announced that Roger had hung up the phone.

“Finished,” he affirmed, adjusting his round-lens sunglasses.

“Well,” said Deacy, “I’ll be off, then. See you later, Y/N.” He raised his hand in a wave, and disappeared around the corner.

You blinked at his sudden departure, then turned to Roger and asked your question before he could disappear as well.

“Rog, come see a film with me?”

Roger was pulling on an overcoat, and promptly shook his head. “Can’t. Sorry, love.”

Your fingers caught on his sleeve as he passed you, and he stopped.

“Please,” you murmured. “I know I said I didn’t want a fuss, but it’s my birthday. Come with me?”

Roger shook his head again, squeezing your hands in his. “I really can’t,” he said. At least he had the decency to look apologetic. You supposed that was something. “But I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

You tried not to sound too dejected, but truth be told, you were crushed. “Yeah, tonight.”

“Alright, then. Well, I’d better be off.” His grip gentle on your forearms, he tugged you forward and kissed your cheek, and you blushed beneath the touch of his lips to your skin, at the warmth that passed from him to you. Drawing back, he winked, let your hands fall, and was gone as well.

You went to see the film on your own.

And then you saw another. And another, just for the hell of it.

By the time you returned to the hotel, it was dark, and you found no one anywhere once more. Until you more or less crashed into John on the landing.

“Blimey, good you’re here!” he said breathlessly. “You’ve got to come quickly. Something’s wrong.”

“Wrong?” you asked. “What do you mean, wrong? Is everyone alright? Is someone hurt?”

John shook his head. “No, no. Just… Come on. You’ll want to see this.”

“See what—”

He more or less dragged you down the hall, until you reached the games room, and ground to a halt.

“In there.”

“The games room?” you said dubiously.

Deacy nodded. He stepped aside, indicating you should open the door.

Eyeing him warily, you reached for the door handle, and pushed it down. The room was dark—

And then abruptly, it was not.

Streamers burst forth, and twinkling fairy lights glinted off of the faces of your friends— Brian, Freddie, Roger, and smattering of crew— smiling from behind a table piled with all sorts of food. Food, and presents.

“Surprise!” came the cry, and you barked a laugh, half in surprise, half in disbelief at your stupidity for not having seen this coming.

“I— thank you,” you said, just as Freddie blew a party horn, to the dismay of those standing immediately beside him. You laughed again, “How did you manage all of this… with such short notice?”

Brian grinned. “It was all Roger.”

“And your bulky coat?” you asked.

“I was carrying bags of ice,” Brian admitted, to a chorus of laughter. “I was cold, okay, but I couldn’t let you see it, so I had to get away from you as quickly as possible. Sorry if that came off as rude.”

You merely laughed once again, then turned to Deacy, who stood beside you. “And, John?”

“Head of organisation,” he said. “Though it was Roger’s master plan.”

“Freddie?”

“What do you think, darling? I did all the shopping,” he swept his arm in a grand gesture, indicating the food and the presents.

“Oh, come off it, Fred,” Roger scoffed, pushing past Crystal. “Not all of the shopping.” Roger now stood before you, and, inclining his head, he handed you a rectangular package, wrapped in butcher paper and white string. “Happy birthday, sweetheart,” he said.

“Thanks, Rog,” you smiled, as you felt yourself be filled with a happiness you had long since thought gone.

“Go on. Open it.”

You looked down at the parcel in your hands, then began to tug at the string.

“We haven’t got all night,” called Freddie. “There’s cake for you as well, so hurry up!”

You glanced at Roger. He shrugged. You tore the paper from the present, and let it fall to the ground.

In your hands you held a first-edition copy of Lord of the Rings.

You gaped. “But how did you—”

“Made some phone calls,” said Roger modestly.

Without a way of putting your gratitude into words, you threw your arms around him, so forcefully that he stumbled backward, before he wrapped his arms around you as well, chuckling.

“Thank you,” you murmured, as someone started a record on the nearby deck, and the party was set into motion.

“You deserve to be fussed over,” he murmured back.

And if it was possible, you hugged him even more tightly, for once at home in this quiet, strange world, with its triumphs and its downfalls, and its in-between moments.

With its Roger moments.

Yes, that was what they were. There was no in-between when Roger was in your world.

And he knew that for as long as you would let him, he would damn well stay.

#s&t celebrate #tina's writing #roger taylor x reader #fic

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johns-prince · 5 years

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Ok so this is going to be a long post but I need someone to explain something to me. I'm a guy, I'm gay and recently I just started to get obsessed with The Beatles and John especially. Let's say I have a mad crush on the guy. I was pleased to hear thanks to some blogs like yours that he was an lgbtq ally, and there is a chance that the man of my life was also a bisexual ( strongly leaning on the male side if I read some of your blogs including yours ). But my adoration for the man has been ---

shattered since I've read on various Beatles forums that he was very homophobic and shit it hurts me to hear that. I know that he has beat up a guy for implying that he was gay, trashed a movie on homosexuality in front of everyone ( I think the movie was called Victim ), that he would openly mock his gay manager Brian Epstein ( bless him ), has called gay people nasty names during a 70s interview like AKOMP stated, that he made fun of a musician by kissing him then pushing him away and called - him a " faggot " and other incidents I can't think of right now. It just hurts a lot because I adore this man, I'm madly in love with him but I'm starting to believe that all this support for the our community had been nothing but a shtick for the " peace & love " propaganda he and Yoko started in the 70s. He also said in a interview w himself that " bisexuality is trendy " which makes me believe that I'm right. I am lost & disappointed & I'm turning to you guys to clarify all of this to me pls.

Well first of all, hullo! I totally understand having a mad crush on John, as well as him being The Man of My Life.

Yes, it’s true! The Beatles in general were very ahead of their time; none of them had any real issue with homosexuals, though perhaps a bit put off at times because of their upbringing and culture and all that, but they were supportive and never understood why these people were treated so poorly. They had a gay manager, it’d be weird for them to be homophobic while treating Brian like a parental figure, loved him and adored him [even if they did tease him a bit behind his back, or even in front of him-- they teased everyone, doesn’t mean they held any ill feelings towards Brian because he was gay] and being part of the music/artsy crowd, they all had gay/bisexual friends, open or not.

I truly believe John was bisexual, and while he never outright stated it, I believe he would have eventually directly came out if he had not been killed.

He was moreso testing the waters though, talking about that when he was 15 he thought he’d have to go and marry off some wealthy old woman or man to continue his passion for art/literature; frequented gay bars with Harry Nilsson, and while he claimed he did it to put off the press-- we know that what he did would have the opposite effect, the press would be constantly on watch, being that there was John Lennon going about gay bars! John could be a terrible liar; even during his Hamburg days, John was described as seeming at home in bars featuring drag queens, and was told he found it stupid how the ‘’culture’’ of gay individuals in industries like music or art, the “scenes” were championed, but the people in general were treated like shit; later on John says gay people are beautiful during an interview [in the 70s I believe]; he’s quoted saying that people should be able to love anyone, that it shouldn’t matter who someone loves; back to the Hamburg era, apparently John had been caught in a drag club/transvestite bar, you know, getting frisky with one by I guess the club runner? and he was all embarrassed of course, but the man didn’t judge him; John is described as someone who was always willing to experiment, after agreeing to a threesome with someone, again back in Germany, one female and another male [though the female was between them, not sure if anything happened between John and the other male]; yes I remember reading somewhere that John did kiss another male performer, before shoving him off and responded crudely; Yoko saying how she’d ‘’teasingly’’ call John a Closeted Fag; Yoko claiming John had told her he would have slept with a man, but he hadn’t found a man beautiful and intelligent enough for him to want to bed him [lies]; Yoko claiming that John had thought about having an affair with Paul; there’s rumors about John and David Bowie; that John had let Brian jerk him off and touch him during their trip to Spain [how John claims it wasn’t fully consummated, that is, no intercourse]; John in an interview saying how he hasn’t slept with a man-- but who knows? Life begins at 40!; John saying how Yoko reminded him of a bloke in drag, and how she was basically like a best mate, but it was easier because with her he could fuck her and love her in public; how he was found holding Brian’s hand by George and Pattie and someone else, and made it a note to showcase his holding of Brian’s hand, because being homosexual was still illegal then-- and there was John, trying to show that “yeah it’s okay.”; and there’s probably much more stories about John when it came to his sexual leaning towards men, though most have probably died with close friends and lovers.

Now, I think what happens is that these people forget the context surrounding John’s life; he wasn’t born in today’s world, he was born in the 40s and raised in the 50s-- being homosexual was illegal, and taught as something shameful, wrong, sick. Even though the boys were relatively very open and ahead of their time, they still grew up in all that, and so of course they still had ignorance and “fear” of homosexuality, of being anything but the expected standard of masculinity.

John wasn’t the only one who mocked or teased Brian about being gay-- the other boys did it too, though moreso behind his back. John only did this when he was in a very sour mood though, as he did with anyone, he’d hone in on what was considered a sore spot, or weakness of theirs, and jab at it. He’d never mean anything by it though, and would often go talk to them afterwards an try to explain that-- his roundabout way of “apologizing,” that he never meant it, he was only joking, and he might hug them. No one was really safe from John’s sharp tongue when he got into those low points, aggressive and biting. John loved Brian, absolutely did, Brian was a very important paternal figure in John’s life as John never had a good one. When Brian died it devastated all of them, especially John, because again he had lost a very close male friend, too soon or too young, they’d always leave him. John loved Brian, and if anyone tries to tell you otherwise, they’re either lying or ignorant themselves.

Now, I think it was actually pretty important for John to tell that story about beating up Bob Wooler, and be as honest as he could about the whole thing, and owned up to his rather intolerant reaction to someone suggesting John was “a queer,” essentially [this was indeed after going off with Brian to Spain, so really everyone had been making sly comments– but that time around, John was drunk, and Drunk John is not at all sensible or cool]

“Bob had been insinuating that me and Brian had had an affair in Spain. And I must have been frightened of the fag in me to get so angry. I was out of my mind with drink - you know, when you get down to the point where you want to drink out of all the empty glasses; that drunk. And Bob was saying, ‘Come on, John, tell me about you and Brian - we all know.’ You know when you’re twenty-one, you want to be a man - if somebody had said it now I wouldn’t give a shit, but I was beating the shit out of him, hitting him with a big stick, and for the first time I thought, ‘I can kill this guy.’ I just saw it, like on a screen: if I hit him once more, that’;s going to be it. I really got shocked. That’s when I gave up violence, because all my life I’d been like that.”

- John Lennon, 1972 Anthology [x]

I think it says a lot, you know, John claiming he was afraid of the fag in him-- I mean, wouldn’t that mean that John knew a part of him was queer then? I think this was part of John confessing, though again, barely anyone caught onto it around that time. This is where I think John was projecting, and most of the ‘’homophobic’’ behavior he showcased was simply a product of internalized homophobia/biphobia.

Also apparently John was INCREDIBLY, horribly remorseful and ashamed of what he had done to Bob-- I think he had gone to him and tried to apologize and show how sorry he was, how ashamed.

I haven’t heard anything about John trashing the movie because of it being homosexual, so I can’t say much about that.

So yeah, my conclusion is that a lot of what John did or said was a product of not only his upbringing/society and of internalized homophobia/biphobia.

John grew up as a musician and individual in the “gay” scene, had many gay and bisexual friends from the industry, seemed to adore and love drag queens, was close friends with Elton Jon, David Bowie, Mick Jagger, loved and truly did look up to his manager Brian Epstein, thought it stupid gay people were treated like shite despite their contributions to the culture they all loved, thought Elvis was beautiful and was often caught commenting about it by friends, was always willing to “experiment,” his wife thought he was a bit of a closeted fag, that he would have slept with a man though he had never found one that met his expectations [liar], how his first love was Paul, that he fell for Paul’s looks like everyone else, thought Paul was the prettiest, Yoko claiming John had contemplated having an affair with Paul-- like, the list goes on.

His support and acceptance of LGBT individuals was there long before Yoko-- so I wouldn’t really put the two in the same area, that being, yeah the whole political-era and “Peace and Love,” was brainwashing and influenced by Yoko, but not his beliefs towards the LGBT.

Also, bisexual was seen as ‘’trendy’’ as, you see, bisexuality was actually considered a bit of a “new” thing; you were either gay or straight, even if you loved both men and women, you were considered a queer. I think that also messed with John’s already confused and frustrated view of his sexuality. And before that, it was considered a Bohemian Lifestyle-- try everything, sleep with men and women.

I think if anything, John was possibility irritated with the fact bisexuality was considered a trend.

I dunno, I try to remember the period and cultural context when talking about John, or anyone really, because it’s not very fair to judge them based on today’s culture and societal acceptance. It’s easy for us to judge them, not to try and understand them.

#questionsquestionsquestions #john lennon

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jack-andthestalk · 6 years

Text

Our Son, Arc II, Sunrise, Chapter 4.

Firstly a huge thank you to @missclairebelle who listened to my weird legal ramblings and made good on them, also for her shouty DM's and encouragement on this chapter, her talent is phenomenal across the board. @balfeheughlywed's feedback is so astute, and her support on this fic has been amazing and I just love the bants with her. This Arc is testing me and I was struggling to write anything for a while but I seem to have found a rhythm and that is partly thanks to @ladyviolethummingbird and @laythornmuse writing tips. So thank you!

A horrible feeling of bubbling nausea swirled relentlessly around in my tummy. Jamie's defeated face fixed on me, waiting for a reaction. Any words that were likely to come from my mouth would be so full of venom, that I dared not open it. Not to protect Jamie, it was to stop me sharing anything of my reaction.

"I wouldna leave you for anything Claire" Jamie's eyes beseeched mine, “I had no choice”.

I couldn’t look, wouldn’t let myself meet his eye.

I had inhaled his every word since he woke me an hour before. A lot of it was things I had already known from what Jenny had explained. Right up until the end, when he came to that bit I knew it was bad before he started.

Jamie seldom cried, maybe when Willie was born? I thought absently, apart from that I couldn't think of another time. Now standing on our cold cement door step, as the sun mounted the sky, he pinched his eyes to stem tears from streaming down his face, his cheeks stained with the ones that had already escaped.

I couldn't muster one ounce of sympathy for him, it scared me, complete detachment. My brain was protecting my heart allowing me just numbness for a moment or two.

It gave me the chance to look at him, really look at him as if he was another person's partner. What advice would I give my friend if she had moved herself and her son from their home thousands of miles to set up a life with someone she loved deeply, the father of her child, only to arrive and have he tell you that he actually was moving hundreds of miles away to run another business?

I knew that I would tell her to pick up whatever dignity she had left and run, run, run.

Thoughts of Willie fleeted through my addled brain. How would I tell him? When would we leave?

“How long?” I asked quietly.

He didn’t speak and I felt the rage boiling in me again, this time now through gritted teeth,

“how fucking long Jamie?”

He sniffed and cleared his throat, "two years as long as it takes to finish it."

“And how long until you go?”

“Claire” he whispered imploringly.

"I need to prepare Willie," I said briskly, ignoring his plea.

“Ten weeks.”

A nod and I was on my feet, brushing myself down. ”Ok”

“Where are ye going?”

“I am not sure,” I replied distractedly looking out at the vast amount of hills and fields I could wander through.

Jamie rose to grab me back. “Alone Jamie, leave me alone.”

______________________

Four hours later with bleak black clouds hovering over me, I found myself at the stables, watching Brian brush down a great big stallion. Methodically covering each inch of the horses back with long even strokes.

He swung around when he heard me approach.

"Just me” I said meekly, wrapping my arms around my waist, suddenly feeling the cold.

Brian's startled expression softened instantly and he looked at me with utter sympathy causing tears filled my eyes abruptly. "Thank god, are ye alright?"

A nod, while I stunk my teeth into my bottom lip. “Fine”.

“He has been out looking for ye twice lass, his temper is frayed enough, I thought he might kill someone if ye dinna return to him soon.

I snorted, but the downturn in my lips made it appear more of a sneer, "when I do go, I won't be leaving on foot", my tone was biting, and I regretted at once using it on Brian but the regret quickly waned when I pictured them all knowing, they knew before me and did nothing. Fuck them all.

Brian's face creased in pity, I couldn't bare it. I turned to leave again not sure of where I would go. "Claire I ken ye are hurting ..."

My voice was brisk now "Brian if it’s all the same to you...I don't want to..."

His hand was firm yet gentle on my shoulder as he turned me, "ye have every right" he said softly. Jamie feared it most of all that it would hurt ye, lassie, ye were his only care, I can promise ye that."

A dense lump climbed up my throat, painfully reminding me that if I spoke it would unleash a sob instead of words. I placed the flat palm of my hand to my forehead but it was too late, tears were coming again. It was as if my eyes were so practiced at it they couldn't stop. I tried breathing in and out deeply, in the hope of bringing back some calmness. Suddenly I could feel Brian's arms folding me into him, holding me to his chest. "Ach Claire...dinna weep a leannan."

That was all it took before big rasping sobs escaped my chest and vibrated against Brian's.

He held me for some time before he gently guided me over to a hay bale and beckoned me to sit, handing me a tissue.

"Claire I dinna ken how much the lad told ye, and I dinna want to make things worse, but I hate to see the two of ye hurting...and I ken Jamie is too"

He looked down at his hands shamefully, "he might even feel worse because it's his fault", sighing deeply, trying to summon up words that could make things a whole lot worse or in the vien hope it might ease some of the pain. "having my own hands soiled in this sorry affair brings me nothing but shame too." he said quietly.

I put my hand over Brian's hand, "It's not your fault" I whispered.

He shook his head avidly, "I should have checked the contract with him, he was under such pressure...I shouldha kent."

I couldn't follow the jumble of words falling from his mouth.

I turned to him now, my brows creased "From the beginning" I said firmly.

A long intake of breath, Brian rubbed his hands nervously up and down his thighs, after tapping his fingers lightly against his thigh for a moment or two, he began to speak slow halting words, "Jamie was trying to secure a deal” hands upturned now in demonstration…he dinna say it but I kent he wanted it for our pensions", another nod and he swallowed "mine and Ellens".

"Since my accident, the lad has been very firm in that he wanted me to retire properly, have a life outside of here, ya ken?"

I bobbed my head receptively, suddenly needing someone to fill in the gaps that I wouldn’t allow myself to ask Jamie. A red mist had blocked any further need for information.

"When the Dunsany's offered him the contract to buy exclusively from Lallybroch...well we thought it too good to be true", "I shouldha fucking known that spineless bastard Dougal could only bring harm on us" he hissed, throwing a piece of straw he had been playing with forcibly to the ground, standing abruptly he began pacing over and back in front of me, temper subdued enough so he could continue. "Jamie saw it as a way to secure Lallybroch's future and allow Ellen and me a healthy pension to retire on.

They offered us a large amount of money to secure the right to exclusively buy any stock that was bred and raised here at Lallybroch. If there was stock, they had a need of, and we dinna have it here, the contract included provisions for Jamie to buy on their behalf, train the animal and sell it on to the Dunsany's."

Another slight tilt of my head acknowledging my understanding.

Brian ran his hands along the edge of a stable door, pausing over grooves with his long fingers considering. "They drew up the contracts a few months ago, but Jamie held off on signing…it was something he was thinking on. Then the stud got that virus, the poor lad was day and night with them, trying to keep the infection at bay. He missed yer birthday on the head of it.

"I remember," I said hoarsely.

“He returned from his last trip to Boston, and he had decided he would sign”.

Brian looked imploringly at me now.

"We were still reeling from nearly losing all our livestock if it hadna been for Jamie’s quick thinking…” he trailed off, and smiled meekily at me “for the first time we realised just how vulnerable we were…" He tilted his head shyly ", and I know now that Jamie had asked ye to marry him on that trip…so the lad had his plans too."

My heart fluttered in my chest, and fresh tears slid down my cheeks. So much hope and now it was snuffed out. Thinking of the stress, Jamie must have been under yet he flew to me in Boston proposing during it all. My thoughts must have been apparent on my face because Brian's face softened "it puts things in perspective lass, Jamie was fair desperate to see ye."

I wiped a stray tear from my face. "That is when Jamie signed the contract," he said sorrowfully, "When he came back from Boston" Brian pressed his bottom lip into his mouth and shook his head dejectedly.

"There was no reason to think the worst of them...it all seemed above board”.

"This trip was just to iron out the specifics, work out what stock they would need over the coming months, talk to them about what Mares were in foal, breeds, that kind of thing,"

Brian ruffled the thick black hair on top of his head, and it struck me how not only alike Jamie was to him but Willie too, absently thinking the Frasers had strong genes. "Then last night they turned around and said they wanted Jamie to oversee this big expansion at Hellwater!”

My mind suddenly was in the drawing room watching this nightmare unfold, and I idiotically could see Geneva Dunsany, leering gleefully in a corner because she knew all along they had this trick up their sleeve.

Brian's foot started tapping agitatedly, "Jamie refused outright…said there was no way, and then they drew their sword." He finished bleakly.

My heart started hammering fast in my chest, I hadn't let Jamie explain earlier, he had looked at me, eyes empty and said "they have the power to shut us down if I dinna go Claire", I hadn't cared then what justifications he thought he had.

To up and leave after I had given everything up to come to be with him. He had never been able to leave before when I needed him.

I didn't want to hear it from Jamie, but now in the cold light of day and Brian's sad face before me, I had to learn the full truth whether I wanted to or not.

"There were small clauses built into the contract Jamie signed; what he thought were insignificant details, they are using them against us Claire."

I opened my mouth to ask, had he not sought legal advice? could we fight these contracts? The resignation of Brian's face somehow told me there was little hope for any of that.

Brian sat down beside me again, putting his big hand over mine, “He has a huge talent, clever man when it comes to farming, horses, even business..but Jamie has a kind heart…he never wouldha thought that people would be capable of being so underhand.”

"What are the clauses?" my voice sounded cold, I didn't mean it. I was trying to protect myself from something, and I wasn't even sure what.

“The Dunsany’s have exclusive rights to buy our stock, and they may take up to 180 days to decide if they want them and are entitled to the first refusal." They made it clear that if Jamie decided not to go to Hellwater, they would apply that right on every horse they look at. Even though last night they told us it would be their intention not to buy any. It means we wouldna be legally allowed to pursue another sale…for some time."

Brian's head bent slowly, and he appeared for the first time as if he might breakdown himself. "the second clause is we canna sell within 200 miles of Hellwater Claire. They effectively can make it so we willna be able to sell our stock to anyone that could offer us a competitive price and by the time ye take in the delay they can impose on such a sale…well ye may as well close us down now.”

Brian’s head dropped and he clasped his hands together “I ken ye are angry with him and it willna help him for me to say this to ye but Ellen and I dinna want him to give into them…”

He sat up straight now, pride in his voice when he spoke again “Jamie isna an ordinary man, he was born to lead, and he saw hundreds of years of work by our kin about to be robbed by those bastards, and I knew we could argue all night, it wouldna mattered, he will sacrifice himself to help us.”

I said nothing, the stillness in the stables, grew thick.

Brian's choked voice broke the silence, "It kills me, my son has to do this Claire…I would do anything so he mightn't have to but he willna leave us without a home or business, and we canna persuade him otherwise."

I wiped the dust from my thighs and stood up.

"I am so sorry a Leannan" he said quietly.

I squeezed Brian's shoulder as he stood, pulling me to him and embracing me without another word. "We will be yer home still?” his face searching mine. I realised that they had just got used to the idea of Willie living here.

“I don’t know…Jamie doesn’t even know how often he is likely to be able to get home…and I would never go to him there…not now especially." I replied flatly.

It was only then I heard rustling behind me that I realised Jamie stood watching me with hollow eyes, taking in the sight of my red and tear-streaked face and his father's arms around my shoulders comforting me, something I hadn't allowed him to do.

#outlander fanfic #ourson

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monigheandonn1743 · 6 years

Text

Ceart-leth

Previous Chapters

Chapter 16

Claire gnawed at her lip, her eyes flicking from Jamie to Brian and back again. She knew she had to do it. Hell, she wanted to do it. It was her job, and if she didn’t try to help and something happened to him, she’d never forgive herself. But still, he was a Duke and his mere presence intimidated the hell out of her.

“Where’s the brash lassie that molested me down by the stream?” Jamie teased blinking at her owlishly as he unstrapped their belongings from Brimstone saddle, and set them at his feet.

“I hardly molested you.” She huffed, twisting her hands as she looked up at him, trying to stop them from shaking. “It seemed to me that you were a willing participant.”

“Aye, verra willin’.” He growled rakishly, wiggling his eyebrows as he slowly looked her over, letting his eyes linger on the high mounds of her breasts. A blush flamed to life on her cheeks, and he bust out laughing, and shook his head. “Now ye blush.”

“Shush!” She hissed casting a wary eye to the men. His laughter had caught their attention and, for the first time, she felt shy. Like their activities were stamped across their foreheads, and she wanted to creep behind him and hide in his coat.

At some point after she and Jamie had snuck off, just before dawn, the men had continued on their journey towards Lallybroch. Or in the case of Brian and his party, on to Fort William to deliver Randell. They’d caught up with them not ten minutes ago, and other then a brief nod from Murtagh there’d been no acknowledgement of their arrival.

Until now.

“He willna bite ye, Sassenach.” Jamie reassured her, touching her hand discreetly with his. She wanted to be back in his arms, to use his strength to bolster her own, but any intimacy that they’d been afforded was over now.

It was bad enough that they’d been gone for so long, but openly displaying their affections now, without being married, would completely destroy what reputation she still had. She just hoped that Brian had given a plausible reason for their absence. If she was ruined she doubted Jamie would be allowed to marry her at all.

They had to be careful, and she had to remember her place, and the time she was in. She’d lost all sense of it when they’d been alone and it couldn’t happen again.

No matter how much she wanted it to.

“Unlike you.” She whispered touching the small bruise at the junction of her neck. Luckily she’d packed a tucker in her bag, and it just about covered the mark.

“Aye, an’ I’ll no say I’m sorry.”

“Mmm.” She looked to Brian again and took a breath, “I’m reluctant to give him anything without examining him first, and if he was coming with us to Lallybroch I’d wait, but…” she sighed and looked back up at Jamie, “I don’t want to risk waiting either.”

“He’s no an unreasonable man. He’s firm, aye, an’ down right terrifyin’ when he wants to be. My arse can attest to that. But ye earned his respect yesterday, an he’ll listen to ye.”

“I’m not sure whether that’s helpful or not.” She laughed shakily, squaring her shoulders. “Once more unto to breach.”

Jamie had offered to speak to him himself, but she couldn’t, and wouldn’t, rely on him to path the way for her to talk to potential patients. So Duke or not, she had to pull up her big girl knickers and get it over with.

It was just her luck that Brian was once again talking to Murtagh when she approached, fingers clasped around the Willow Bark in her pocket. She’d spotted it on their journey back from the stream and, as she dropped the others she’d collected in her mad rush to get to Jamie, she’d asked him to stop and cut some away for her.

Unlike yesterday, when she’d been fuelled by her need to protect his son, she daren’t interrupt Brian’s conversation. As a Duke and her a commoner, it was for him to acknowledge her not the other way around. So, she stood to the side, just in his line of sight and waited.

Murtagh spotted her first and his lips twitched as he nodded to her, alerted Brian to her presence. The huge warrior turned to face her, and she had to steel herself, least she step back and show her fear.

“Ah, Mistress Beauchamp. I trust ye found what ye were searching for?” He smiled, bowing politely and accepting her curtsy with a brief nod.

“I did, Your Grace, thank you.” She nodded back, catching his double meaning and accepting the excuse he’d given them. “And thank you for sending Lord Lorne to accompany me. I’d have found myself quite lost without his guidance.”

“I’m sure.” He laughed lightly. “I see ye’v rendered him immobile again.” She glanced over her shoulder at Jamie, and smiled. He was stood with Donas, one arm strapped to his chest, as he whispered softly to the horse and checked his wounds. All the while watching them as discreetly as he could.

“Much to his displeasure.” She laughed turning back to face Brian. “He’s not the most compliant patient I’ve ever worked with.”

“No, I imagine he’s no.”

“Although I have had worse.” She smiled, pulling her hand from her pockets and wringing together. He was being more approachable then she’d anticipated, but the butterflies in her stomach weren’t letting up. She needed to get on with it before she lost her nerve and ran back to Jamie like a coward. “If it’s not inconvenient, Your Grace, I was wondering if I might speak with you?”

“Aye.” He nodded, “I was of a mind to speak with ye as well. Murtagh, see it done.”

“Aye.” Murtagh accented before turning to her, “Mistress.”

“Murtagh.”

His lips twitched again, and she had to bite her own to stop a laugh, as he spun, kilt swishing in the breeze, and walked away from them to complete whatever task Brian had given him. Sobering, she tuned back to face the duke, and rested her fingers on the arm he held out for her to take.

“What can I help ye with, lass?” He asked as he guided them down a path, still out in the open, but away from the men.

Here goes nothing!

“At the risk of being impertinent, Jamie…Lord Lorne,” she corrected quickly. “Well he mentioned a few days ago, expressed his worry really, that you’d shown signs of suffering with pains in your chest.”

“Did he now?” He grouched, startling her as the muscles in his arm flexing beneath her fingers. “The damn lad needs to mind his own business.”

“He’s just worried about you.”

“Well he shouldna be. An’ he shouldna be discussing it with ye.”

She sighed quietly and pursed her lips. It was so tempting to just say okay and to run in the opposite direction as fast as she could. He scared her half to death, but leaving it now would do nothing to help either of them. She’d already made her decision to try and help, so she had to say committed to it.

She stopped walking, forcing him to stop too and turn toward her. It was clear where Jamie got his stubbornness from, and nervous or not, she’d be damned if she let it kill him.

“Maybe you’re right.” She agreed gently looking up into his stern blue eyes. “But it wasn’t meant maliciously. He’s lost so much already and you and Lady Janet are the only family he has left, so of course he’s worried. You know I’m a healer and I’m good at what I do. So if he’s right, then please, let me help?”

He sighed and scrubbed at his face, much liked she’d seen Jamie do when he was stressed. It made her smile, and she almost laughed outright when he rolled his eyes and turned to walk again.

It almost made him seem human.

“So, he told ye then? Of Annalise and the bairns?” He asked quietly as she fell into step beside him again.

“Yes.”

He fell silent then, and so did she, leaving him to his thoughts in hopes that he would come to the right decision. She couldn’t force him to accept her help, but she’d be damned if she went down without a fight.

“Where’s ye family from, lass?” He asked as they reached the edge of the loch. He motioned for her to take a seat on a fallen log and sat beside her as she settled herself.

In her quest to convince him to accept her help, she’d all but forgotten that he wanted to speak to her too and her stomach dropped like a stone.

Well shit!

Why hadn’t they anticipated this?

“Oxfordshire. My father was a tutor at the university.” She answered honestly. She couldn’t tell him the truth, not without Jamie here anyway, but she wouldn’t lie to him where it could be avoided.

“Was?”

“Yes. My parents were killed in an accident when I was five. I was raised by my fathers brother Lambert Beauchamp. He was an archeologist and we travelled the world looking for artefacts.” She explained quietly. “That’s where my love of healing comes from, I spent a lot of time immersed within different cultures. I learnt a lot of what I know from them.”

He sighed quietly and turned to look out over the water. Her heart was pounding in her chest, dreading the question that would eventually trip her up. Or the more concerning possibility that he would tell her to stay away from his son, that she wasn’t good enough.

“I wasna raised for the life I have now,” He said suddenly, surprising her with the turn in conversation, “and despite the pain of losin’ Jamie’s mother, I was happy with our life at Lallybroch. As Lord Lovat’s eldest son, I would’v eventually become clan Chief, but with the legacy he left, that was tenuous at best, an’ I wasna eager for it.” He laughed disgustedly, sparking a memory of what Joe had told her of Simon “the fox” Fraser.

He was a bit of a bastard if she remembered correctly.

“My mother though, was Lady Margaret Campbell, daughter of the first Duke of Argyll. Her grandsire, the ninth Earl, had been stripped of his title an’ hung for treason. It was only her fathers loyalty to the crown, an’ his support of William an’ Mary, that awarded him the estates an’ his ascension to the Duchy.

“Subsequently, he was the first Campbell to hold the title. So when his sons, the second Duke and his brother, died of the smallpox with no heirs of their own, they looked to his daughter. Ordinarily the title would revert to her uncle, but as he wasna a descendent of the first Duke an’ he held no claim.

“Though my mother still lived, she couldna inherit, bein’ a woman. But her son could, an’ as the last direct male descendent of the Duke, the title came to me.”

He looked at her then, and smiled slightly as he reached over and patted her arm. She had no idea what to say, no idea where he was going with his story, so she simply smiled back and tried to quell the queasiness in her stomach.

At least it explained some of how history had changed. A simple pox out break had obviously been enough.

In part at least.

“I wasna a Duke when the lad marrit Annalise, but even then, had I kent anythin’ about it, I would of put a stop to it, bairn or no. I’v no wish to speak ill of the dead, but she wasna a pleasant person and she made him miserable.”

“I know.” She agreed quietly, “He insinuated as much.”

“Aye, he’s too kind hearted to say it out right. But I’m no, an’ I’ll tell ye. She was a greedy, selfish bitch.” He growled, voicing the sentiments that Claire herself longed to, but wouldn’t dare for fear of hurting Jamie.

“I feared as much.”

“Ye right to. He wasna the same man when he returned from France, an’ he only got worse as the years went on. She almost destroyed him, an’ I’v seen no life in his eyes until I saw him look up at ye at the side of the road.

“I willna deny that he’s headin’ for a hard life. Bein’ a Scottish Duke is no easy task. It’s fraught with its own dangers, an’ the political waters are deep an’ murky. Neither will I deny that him havin’ an English wife will be a boon. He’s already got the support of the clans, an’ an English wife will see him well in London.

“I’v consider it before, ye ken, linkin’ him to the daughter of an English peer. But I couldna do it to him. I’v seen him at his lowest, an’ I’ll no do that to the lad again, I didna raise him to suffer a political marriage, so I’ll no force him to one. All I really care about is him being happy. So I’ll ask ye once, an’ ye’ll answer me true. Then I’ll surrender myself to ye care, agreed?”

“Agreed.” She told him resolutely, despite having no idea what he wanted from her.

“I ken that ye strong, lass. Puttin’ me in my place as ye did took courage.” He laughed, winking at her as a blush flamed on her cheeks. “An’ I ken ye did it for the lad. That ye care for him is obvious. But do ye love him? Do ye love him enough to put him first above all that comes with him? To support him in what he’s to inherit, an to stand by his decisions?”

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment. She was stunned. What was supposed to be a conversation about his health, had turned into him practically giving her his blessing. She’d be stupid to do anything to jeopardise that, but he’d asked for the truth, and she wouldn’t shame herself by lying to him.

“The easy answer is yes.” She responded, opening her eyes and turning to face him. “I love him, more than I thought it was possible to love anyone. I didn’t know what he was until we went searching for Donas, but I knew who he was, and I’d have married him then in a heartbeat.

“I don’t know the first thing about being a peers wife, but you’ve asked for honesty and I’ll give it to you. Jamie’s only human, and I’ve no doubt that over the years he’ll make mistakes and stupid decisions. And while the world will see a supportive wife, you can bet your arse I’ll tell him in private if I think he’s being a fool. So, yes I love him, and yes I’ll support him, but there’s no way I’ll stand by his decisions if he’s being an idiot.”

“Ah, lass.” Brian laughed, placing a fatherly arm around her shoulder and pulling her in for a hug. It was so unexpected that she wasn’t prepared and she almost fell against him. “I kent there was a reason I liked ye. Just like his mam, ye are. God rest her soul. She’d have liked ye too. Had fire in her belly to match her hair that one.”

Claire laughed, part in humour but mainly in relief as she righted herself and gave him a small hug in return.

“That’s where he gets his hair from.”

“Oh aye. An’ his temper.” He laughed as Claire raised a dubious eyebrow.

“I didn’t realise he had one.” And if she did, she’d have presumed he’d gotten it from Brian. But she wouldn’t tell him that.

“Then ye in for a treat, lass. Now, about this pain…” “I dinna ken the fancy soap was for ye.” Murtagh murmured, sneaking up behind Jamie and scaring the living daylights out of him. He was normally aware of every slight sound around him, but he’d been so lost in watching his da an’ Claire that he hadn’t heard a thing.

“It wasna.”

“Then why do ye smell like a tarts boudoir?” He demanded as he sat down beside him before the fire, “Ye gone for hours with the lass, an ye both come back clean and smelling of roses. Did ye bed her?”

“Nay.” Jamie growled back under his breath,“no that it’s any of ye concern.”

“Ye’r my concern.” He snapped back, “an by extension, so is the lass. Ye finally found one that’s worthy of ye, an’ I’ll no let ye ruin it by bein’ hasty. Ye ken there’s plenty who’s set there eye on ye, lad. They’ll no take kindly to ye wee Sassenach stealing ye from under their noses. If ye ruin her, they’ll have it known.”

Guilt stabbed at his heart. It had been a close thing, there in the water, when they’d forgotten themselves completely. If she’d not kept on her wee lacy knickers, as she’d called them, he may be singing a different tune, an rushing her to the Kirk.

“Aye, I ken.”

“Then keep ye cock in ye kilt until ye’v marrit the lass. An’ for god sake, stay clear of the men while ye smell like a flower garden.” He tossed a bar of soap in the air and Jamie caught it swiftly and brought it up to his nose.

It had a strong masculine smell, and he sighed and gestured to his arm.

“T’is more than my life’s worth to take it off.”

“Then ye best ask Claire to do it. Cause I could smell ye clear across camp.” Murtagh laughed, patting his knee as he stood, “I’ll be back with food.”

Jamie’s sighed and looked up to where his da had Claire wrapped in his arms by the loch. He jumped up, worried that he’d upset her, but then he saw her laugh, and his lips quirked up in response.

She had the old bastard wrapped around her finger already, as he knew she would, and he shook his head and slowly made his way towards them. Careful to avoid walking to close to the groups of men scattered around.

“…every other day.” He heard her instruct as she handed the willow bark to his father. “I don’t want you to take it too often before I’ve had a chance to examine you properly, but hopefully it will help.”

“I’d snap her up quick, son. I might just marry her myself.” His da laughed as he noticed him, turning his stomach. Claire laughed, and he narrowed his eyes as he walked behind her and stood as close as property allowed.

His arms itched to wrap around her waist, to pull her against his chest, and keep her there until she knew her place. But she was just as likely to castrate him, a she was to melt against him, and neither was a good thing under the circumstances.

“Then I’ll be duke before either of us anticipated.”

“Jamie!” Claire chastised, as she turned to look up at him. Her eyes were alive with suppressed humour and he ached to capture her parted lips with his.

Beautiful.

“What?” He shrugged, wincing slightly from the movement and earning himself a glare. “The mans attemptin’ to abscond with my wife. What do ye expect me to do?”

“I don’t remember you asking me to marry you.” She smirk, raising an enticing eyebrow, and drawing an unexpected laugh from his father.

“A slight error on my part, I agree. One I’m sure I’ll see fit to rectify soon enough”

She burst out laughing and he reached for her hand and brought it to his lips and held it in a lingering kiss. It was innocent enough, so he didn’t really care if anyone saw them, least of all his beaming father. She smiled up at him, and he lost himself in her whiskey eyes, mourning their return to reality.

“See that ye do.” His da laughed, slapping him on the back. “Now, did ye want me, or ye wee lassie?”

“Both,” he sighed holding up the soap. Claire frowned down at it, and when he caught her eye he shook his head minutely. “I need to wash up, but I canna free my arm. I need ye to unbind me, Sassenach.”

“An ye need me as chaperone.” His da surmised, nodding his head as he sat back on the log. “Aye, ye’v had ye leeway, an’ I’ll send on a note to Jenny and Ian. They can serve in my place until I get back.”

“I think Murtagh will be more than happy to take the office.”Jamie growled as Claire helped him out of his coat and started on the cuff of his shirt. He was attempting desperately to ignore what she was doing. He knew all too well how she felt against his naked body, and his cock had a mind of its own.

“Maybe, but he’s a bachelor himself. It wouldna do to start rumours.”

He spat a curse under his breath, bringing on a new round of laughter from Claire as she eased the shirt over his head. He’d thought maybe it would be the young lads on the farm he’d have to keep an eye on, but it seems that the two old coots were going to be his biggest problem. And he’d suffer no end to their teasing.

But at least his cock-stand had vanished.

Chapter 17

#outlander #outlanderfanfiction #jamieandclaire #ceart-leth

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mybeautifuldecay · 6 years

Text

Private Tutor. Chapter Fourteen: He Was In The Course Of Running Away From His Previous Life.

I’ve finally done a MASTER LIST for Private Tutor if you need to catch up <3

As with every chapter in this story, here’s to @gotham-ruaidh my OL sister in so many ways.

With her applications finally complete, Claire had taken to reordering the shelves in the medical section of the library over and over again until Ellen had succumbed to her extreme need for structure, and had left her alone with the books and a couple of dirty dusters. She’d already been accepted onto the foundation course; Joe had informed her only moments after she’d submitted the paperwork. But the Bachelor of Science medical course at the university was a little more complex. Too excited to wait until October to apply, Joe, Jamie and Claire had sat together until the long UCAS form had been successfully finished, paid for and the ‘send’ button clicked. Joe had then emailed his colleagues up at the university and that had been that.

“Would ye like a cup of tea, lass?” Ellen asked as Laoghaire hovered behind her, empty kettle in hand.

Claire had the libraries schematic for this particular section and she’d been singly working on ensuring that she stuck to it whilst making the ordering more effective. Anything to keep her mind and hands busy. The staff at The Mitchell, Ellen aside, had started taking bets on how long it would take before she tired and simply fell asleep on the large bean bags in the children's section.

“Claire?” Ellen reiterated, touching her lightly on the arm. “Tea?”

“Oh, sorry,” she said, one book in each hand as she turned towards Ellen, “I’m fine thanks.”

“I think ye need a break. I’m going to make everyone else one, will ye have a cup, Claire?” Laoghaire said kindly.

“Come on lass, Laoghaire’s right. Plus, yer taking our jobs from us, aye? If ye dinna have some tea wi’ us, we’ll think ye haven’t actually applied for a medical degree at all and have, instead, become dedicated to becoming a library hobbit.”

The joke broke Claire’s anxious organising and she laughed before nodding. “Sorry,” she sighed, placing the books on the closest table as she scratched her forehead, “I’m not trying to oust you all, I promise. It’s just being at home at the moment-”

“Sucks?” Laoghaire added, a shy smile breaking out across her face. Over the course of the last few weeks, Claire’s hours at the library had increased so much that both Geillis and Laoghaire now knew most of the story as to how she had come to be here - including Frank’s audacious affair. She had, however, decided to gloss over her growing affections for Jamie though she was sure they already had some clues about her feelings for him.

“Yes, I think sucks is a good descriptor.” She chuckled. “And I’d love a cup of tea, thank you.”

“Can I confess something to ye, Claire?” Ellen asked once Laoghaire had wandered off to put the kettle on for them all.

Claire allowed her smile to widen as she looked at Ellen’s abnormally shy demeanor. “Of course, should I be sitting?” She jested, leaning against the table to her left.

“Nah,” Ellen returned, “it isna that bad. I thought ye might have figured it out before this, but I’m no’ sure so I thought it was about time to tell ye. I’m Jamie’s mother. We’ve spoken, just me and him, nobody else, about ye...a lot.”

“Oh.” Claire said, dumfounded. She had noticed something in the early days, but as the whirlwind had swept her up, the debris of her past life colliding with Jamie and her newfound love of medicine, she’d become less perceptive. “So you know...about us?” She whispered as all of the pieces to the puzzle started to slot into place.

“Aye. But he didna tell me, I figured it out. When I asked him, outright ye ken, he told me what it was between the two of you. I dinna ken whether he’s told you an awful lot about us, his da and I, but when it was clear ye still didna know who I was. I thought I should tell ye.”

“I knew you looked familiar, the first time I saw Jamie after I’d met you something twigged in the back of my mind but I never put two and two together.”

“Ye’ve a lot going on, Claire, dinna worry about that. But there’s another reason I’m telling ye this now.”

Silence fell over them as Laoghaire returned with a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits for the pair. Placing them on the small table, she turned and scarpered away as fast as she’d appeared leaving the women alone once more.

“I come from a family similar to your own. I know what money looks like, what obligation looks like.”

“Your marriage was arranged?” Claire asked, shocked.

“Aye, but no’ my marriage to Brian Fraser.”

“You eloped?” Her voice was getting higher pitched as she realised the story Ellen was about to tell her, the main points of it at least.

“I know the archaic Scottish clan system was wiped out after the battle of Culloden, but, much like the English aristocracy, it continued despite that. My father was a powerful laird, he had all of our partners lined up -me and my brothers- since we were verra young. When I was sixteen he introduced me to Malcolm Grant, we had a rather large party at Leoch, where I grew up. Da invited a lot of the surrounding families. I spent the whole time trying to hide from Mal. He was lovely, dinna get me wrong, strong and bonnie looking fer a lad, but I didna love him.”

“What happened?” Claire returned, her attention captured by Ellen’s colourful storytelling. “How did you end up with Brian?”

“He was there that night. Him and the Frasers, his mam and da, they owned the land adjoining my da’s. I was actually hiding in a small cupboard.”

Claire snorted, some of the tea she’d just supped dribbling messily from her mouth as she wiped her lips. “A cupboard?”

“I was sixteen, lass,” Ellen quipped, laughing at Claire’s wide eyed stare, “and in a blind panic about being wed to a near-stranger. I waited until it all went quiet afore sneaking out of the house completely. We had a lovely garden at the time wi’ a large well manicured maze. I hid in the centre of it, certain that none of the guests would venture this far in the dark.”

“But they did? Brian did?” Claire said, interrupting as her excitement piqued.

Ellen giggled, a wee childish sound that warmed Claire’s heart. “Aye, he did. He saw me leave, he was the only one who even noticed me. It was love at first sight.”

“But you were sixteen, surely you weren’t due to be married until you were older?”

“Oh aye but that didn’t mean that Brian didna find any excuse to come around in the next couple of years. He bartered his way in by tutoring me through my Advanced Highers. In turn, I bodged my English exams so that mam and da thought I needed the help. To cut a long story short, just as my finals came up I got pregnant. We ran off to Gretna as soon as I kent. It was the best decision we’ve ever made.”

“I assume your parents were less than impressed.”

“That’s an understatement,” Ellen chuckled, “Brian’s da, though, he looked after us. He saw that we didna want for anything and he doted on Willie when he was born nine months later. That’s the only regret I have, and it isna because of my actions, but my brothers’ stubbornness.”

“How many brothers do you have?” Claire enquired.

“Two. Collum is the older Mackenzie, Dougal the younger. I was the middle child. The only errant one. I havena seen any of them since Brian and I wed, but that’s their decision and I would never turn them away should they ever want to reconcile wi’ us.”

“They didn’t even contact you when Willie was sick?” Claire exclaimed, her hand reaching out to hold Ellen’s as the two women smiled sadly at one another.

“No. They knew, Brian was adamant that they should, but their rigidity remained solid even as my son was dying.”

“I’m sorry, Ellen.”

“Don’t be. That’s no’ the point I was trying to make. What I’m trying to say, no’ so eloquently aye, is that no matter the hand yer dealt, you can always change yer fate. I did, when I marrit Brian and not Malcolm.”

“I suppose Jamie did too, when he came here instead of taking over Lallybroch.”

“Aye, yer right.” Ellen said, cocking her head to the side as she took Claire’s hand in her own and held on tight. “After Willie...died...we were all raw, as ye can imagine but Jamie idolised him. He gained a birthright but one he didna want without his brother. When he came to Glasgow he was in the course of running away from his previous life. He was aimless and lost. But Willie was there, looking out for him as he had done when he was alive. He met some of the doctors who’d cared for Willie during his treatment and he enrolled to university within months and was accepted. He forged his own path, as ye can, Claire.”

“Joe said something to me,” she said playing with the biscuit crumbs on the freshly emptied plate, “just as I was leaving his office. I hadn’t even thought about it that way until he mentioned it, but he said that powerful men don’t like to be upstaged. It was only later I figured out what he meant. He was talking about Frank and I, about our marriage. When we first met he said one of the things that attracted him to me was my wit and intelligence. He liked that I wasn’t the meek and obedient type, but then, after we were married, things changed. He was always the professor with the prestigious career. Joe was right, I think,” she sighed, “it wasn’t just because he wanted to start a family, I think he was worried that I’d do well as a doctor, he saw what it meant to me and how hard I was willing to work to make it happen, and he saw a future where I made more of a headway in my career than he might in his and he put a stop to it before it began.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time, Claire.” Ellen replied in solidarity, rubbing her arm gently as Claire let her head fall forwards slightly, her shoulders rising and falling as she shrugged off the disappointment. “Money talks, aye? I ken it better than ye know. My da, as ye now ken, and Frank’s da arena too far removed.”

With her story over, Ellen pulled Claire into a fierce hug, kissing her cheek as she let her go and stood back once more. “Whatever happens now, lass, I just want you to know that I’m always here for you. Ye have the inner strength to make yer own choices, you started wi’ that application form, but how it continues is down to you. I ken love when I see it and I’ve been watching ye and Jamie fall quietly for one another from my desk since ye arrived here. It was like watching myself all those years ago, rare and captivating.”

“He’s special,” Claire muttered, “I didn’t know until recently just how special and once Frank crushed my hopes of getting a quick divorce my heart broke. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but I thought I’d finally found a way to free myself.”

“Nothing worth having in this world comes easy, Claire. Screw obligation and screw Frank. I dinna ken the man, but I know what makes the lad and I dinna care whether that’s too forward. He cares way too much for his fragile ego than you. He probably started off as attentive and doting, but circumstance often casts its oppressive shadow over those traits, deconstructing everything positive and replacing the man ye marrit wi’ a stranger. The fact that he cheated on ye wi’ a student and then tried to brush it off as an average occurrence proves as much.”

Taking a break from her soliloquy, Ellen gathered up the empty cups and plates, stacking them on the tray methodically. It was clear that she didn’t want to actively influence Claire but she was biased. She loved Jamie and watching him (and Claire) pine after one another made her feel powerless - a feeling she hadn’t experienced since Willie got sick.

Seeing the sorrow fall across Ellen’s face, Claire swallowed back the huge lump that had been forming in her throat throughout their conversation.

“I’m not giving up, Ellen, not yet.” She whispered, renewed hope fueling her.

“Nolite te bastardes carborundorum.” Ellen mumbled, quoting ‘The Handmaid’s Tale’ as she winked at Claire, taking the dirty crockery and leaving her to process the mass of information she’d given her.

“I won’t,” she breathed, a myriad of Romeo and Juliet-esque scenarios running through her head as quiet surrounded her once more.

#gotham's writing workshop #Private Tutor AU #Jamie X Claire #Outlander #Fanfiction #Featuring: Ellen Fraser #featuring: laoghaire

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