Perfection
Pairings: Spencer Reid x bau!adhd!Reader
Word Count: 2.6k words
Warnings: Mentions of rape, mentions of murder, dead body, crime scene, descriptions of gore, typical Criminals Minds stuff, character with ADHD, mentions of medication...
A/N: This is a little more self-indulgent than I meant for it to be, but I do want to point out that this is some of my experience with ADHD, so I'm not just writing random stuff. It is slightly exaggerated, but I also say that about everything I do and it is pointed out that this is based off an off day.
The long alleyway makes for a nice crime scene, specifically because, despite the busy streets of this city, it's secluded and easy to overlook. It's not too small that the police team cannot fit, but it's small enough that you couldn't cram a really small building into the space. You don’t know how that’s relevant, but somehow it is.
The scene is relatively fresh, the latest of three that brought the BAU to the case. The police handling the scene had it cleared off for you, Spencer, and Derek to examine, via Hotch’s orders.
Spencer's watching you because he loves watching you, and because you're a little off today. There's something about the way you shuffle on your feet or the way you chew on the dead skin of your lip that he finds peculiar. To be fair, you're like this a lot, but today your symptoms are more obvious than usual.
Your eyes scan over the scene with a million different thoughts rushing through your head, less than fifty percent of them actually coherent and fit for conversation.
The three of you spitball ideas back and forth as you look at the man laying cold on the concrete. He's white, lean with light hair and a relatively thin frame. He's nothing like the other two victims, who's physical profiles were all over the place. The only thing they have in common with one another is a single occupation—male prostitution. While this and the first worked on the streets, the second’s job actually took place within a gay strip club a few blocks away from here.
He's got a starting blow to the back of the head, like the other two, and a number of bad bruising and heavy brutality to the rest with overkill to the chest, hands, and genitals. The message feels clear, but there's something a little off.
“Judging by the position of the body,” you speak, your hands restless, “and the way the weapon is discarded, I think our unsub snuck up on our victim in a blitz attack, hit him with the lead pipe, and ran that way.”
You don't point in any particular direction. Spencer glances up from his spot crouched next to the body. Your eyes are stuck on the bloody pipe several feet away from the body toward the secluded area around the back of the building that leads to more secluded walkways through more alleyways.
There is a long pause where they wait for you to explain, but you never do. Spencer thinks you look far off as he examines your face. Derek looks at you, his brow furrowed as he glances around. “Which way?”
“What?” you hum, looking up at him.
Derek elaborates, “Which way did the unsub go?”
It’s your turn to furrow your brow, turning the thin ring on your middle finger. “Did I say something about the unsub?”
Spencer stands, moving over to your side without spending too much time looking at your face. He doesn't want you to feel dumb or awkward, because he loves you and you're just a little forgetful sometimes.
“Yes,” he says in no particular way. “You said the unsub blitzed the victim and ran. Which way did he run?”
He achieves his goal, because you seem to make an “Oh, duh!” face before pointing in the direction of the street. “That way.”
He follows your finger, his brows knitting together. “That way toward the street?” He looks at the pipe, sitting in the exact opposite direction, like they ran and dropped it. “The pipe looks like he'd run the other way to avoid the street. Why do you think he ran toward?” It's a genuine question.
“To throw us off,” you shrug. “It's riskier to go toward the street, but it's also less suspicious than walking alone in the opposite direction where someone could see you and the victim and assume fault.”
He hums. You add on, speaking as quickly as Spencer usually does, “It also means he looks normal enough that he blends in with the crowd. Someone would see a strange figure coming out of a dark alley, no one would really notice a passerby turning a corner. And if this is a popular spot, it's too loud to hear anything going on all the way back here anyway, or no one thinks much of grunting noises when they do hear it.”
You trail off at the end, tight brows staring at the corpse. Derek shrugs, “But what was our victim doing all the way over here in the first pla–”
“There's something in his mouth,” you interrupt accidentally.
“What?”
You kneel down, taking the offered gloves from Spencer and putting them on. You open his mouth just a slight, spotting the white sticking out from under his tongue. Upon seeing it, both of the boys furrow their brows and tilt their heads. Spencer hands you some tweezers he'd borrowed from forensics for this reason.
Carefully, without disturbing the body as much as possible, you remove the strange object from under the tongue. It's a tiny slip of paper, folded up very small and still a little damp from saliva and any other bodily fluids it may have come in contact with. You unfold it.
“‘Unclean’,” Spencer reads from over your shoulder.
“That makes sense for the victimology mixed with the profile. He's a male prostitute,” Derek points out.
“Which explains the locale,” you say, rocking back and forth on your heels.
“What?”
“The locale,” you look up. “You asked why he was here. He must have been working, lured down here by the unsub, who waited for him to turn his back before he struck.”
Spencer agrees, taking a picture of the slip to send to Hotch. “He was killed at night. The streets are crowded, easy to slip into and not be seen. It's more risky to stray by yourself. What you said makes sense.”
You look up at him, standing to your full height again. “What did I say?” There you go again.
Morgan speaks up, “What you said about him runnin’ toward the street.”
Confusion passes your mind momentarily. “He ran toward the street.” You don't say it like a question, you say it like you're trying to back yourself up on it.
“That's what you said,” he insists.
You remember thinking that, but you don't remember saying that out loud.
Spencer swoops in like your hero, brushing his knuckles against the side of your arm. “Remember? You said,” he licks his lips, “ ‘it's riskier to go toward the street, but it's also less suspicious than walking alone in the opposite direction where someone could see you and the victim and assume fault.’ ”
You nod, remembering his word-by-word recitation as you watch him. “Yeah. I did say that.” You flag down one of the forensics workers to bag the evidence. She does so, taking your contaminated gloves with her as she leaves. You squirt a hefty amount of hand sanitizer on your hands from its place on your belt loop. “This is the first victim who's been left behind with a note, right?”
“Yes, autopsy results found nothing like this on the other victims.”
“If the victim was working when he was attacked, it’s possible that, paired with the brutality of the assault and the note left behind, our unsub may be experiencing some kind of internalized homophobia.” You trail off at the end.
Derek shrugs, looking down at the body. “There’s no evidence of sexual assault. Not on the other victims, at least.”
“How old do you think this building is?”
Spencer looks at you, your eyes scanning the wall of one of the buildings you’re between. Your bottom lip is pulled between your teeth, picking at the dead skin again. He thinks you’re cute.
“Focus, honeybun,” Derek reminds you, pulling your attention again.
“Sorry.”
“Judging by the faded color and uneven edges of the brick, and the decay in the mortar,” Spencer says, “I’d say this building is at least 50 years old. Well kept at one point and then let go not long after its production.”
You nod along slowly, taking in the information with a hum. “That’s cool…” Now that that’s out of your mind, you think for a moment. What were you saying again? Spencer watches your eyes light up. “Oh!” You turn to Derek. “He’s obviously confrontational, but he may still be very insecure in his ability and, thus, have to make up for his pent up energy with an excess of violence. Homophobia would explain the obliteration of the chest, hands, and especially the genitalia.”
Derek raises a brow. “What?”
“You asked about sexual assault,” you shrug. “If he continues to escalate above the note, we may see these words carved into the skin as a substitute for sexual violence, or even just blatant rape activity.”
Derek thinks about that, considering your analysis with a nodding head. He sighs and hums, “Alright, I’ll talk to Hotch.” He begins to turn away, grabbing his phone.
Spencer thinks you may have gotten distracted again because you ask, “Did I do something wrong?”
Derek looks back at you, shaking his head and flashing you one of his charming smiles. “No, honeybun, you’re perfect.”
“Oh.”
He leaves to take that call. You start to walk after him and Spencer gently takes your hand. You turn to face him, confused at first but giving him a sweet smile only a second later. “Are you okay?” he asks gently, his voice soft.
You tilt your head, “What do you mean?”
Spencer shrugs, taking your other hand just to rub his thumbs over your knuckles. “You’re hyper today, a little more distracted.”
As if proving his point, you begin shifting back and forth on your feet, shrugging and then shaking your head at the same time. “I’m okay,” you assure him, squeezing his hands gently. “I haven’t taken my medication in a couple days.”
He furrows his brow, suddenly a little worried. “Why not?”
“Didn’t feel like it. Also, I forgot it.” That makes sense. Spencer makes a mental note to remind you to take them as soon as you get back home. “But I’m okay, prommy.”
He smiles. “Prommy?”
“Promise,” you clarify, letting both your hands down so you can swing his from side to side. He lets you.
“I know what you mean,” he says. Though he knows he should probably be more professional because you’re both in public and leaving a crime scene (and Hotch might reprimand the both of you for it if he saw) he raises a hand to cradle your cheek because he doesn’t care. He just wants you to feel safe and loved. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
You nod definitely. “I’m good.”
“Okay,” The way he says it is soft, as soft as a kiss to your forehead or a brush of his knuckles on your skin. “You know, I love you, right?”
You nod, smiling at him like he’s the world—because he is. “Yeah. I love you, too, honey.” You kiss his cheek quickly and pat it. You probably shouldn’t have done it right then, but you did, and you don’t regret it for even a moment.
Spencer’s just happy you know he loves you. “Okay,” he says. “Let’s go before Morgan leaves us.” He takes your hand as you both begin walking. He swings your joined hands, just as he knows you like it.
“He wouldn’t leave me,” you shake your head. “He likes me too much.”
Spencer chuckles. “Everyone likes you.”
“Not everyone.”
He looks at you, furrowing his brow. “Who doesn’t like you?”
“I don’t know,” you shrug. And then immediately after, “Why does the sun look yellow? Isn’t it supposed to be white or something? I heard that somewhere.”
Spencer is happy to answer your questions as he opens the car door for you. Derek is already sitting in the front, his hands on the wheel. The passenger’s seat is empty, but Spencer sits in the back with you. You both speak gently so you’re not disturbing Derek. “The Earth’s atmosphere scatters blue light more efficiently than red light, so the slight deficit in blue light means the eye perceives the color of the sun as yellow. But, yes, the sun is actually white.”
“That’s cool,” you mumble. “I think sharks would look cool as hell with piercings. Do you?”
“I do,” Spencer chuckles. In the front seat, Derek shakes his head and smiles to himself, amused by your conversation.
“Did you know that sharks don’t have bones, so when they die, the saltwater dissolves their bodies so the only thing that’s left is their teeth?” You begin ranting, absent-mindedly picking at dirty under your nails. “And also, their bodies are primarily made of cartilage and connective tissue. It’s lighter than bone and keeps them flamboyant. Also, their skin has a similar feel to sandpaper.”
When you ramble, you sound like Spencer. You spend so much time with him and endorse his info dumps so much that you take on his speech style when you go on info dumps of your own. Spencer loves this because he knows that people tend to mimic the people they love as a sign of affection, and you mimic him a lot more than you think.
He also knew about all your shark facts, but he’s happy to listen. He smiles, “Is that what you were doing up late last night?”
You smile a little, turning away from him. “I got distracted.”
“What’s your thought process behind getting from the sun to sharks?” he wonders. “I’m curious.”
You shrug. “Well, you said your thing and I said it was cool. And then I remembered a post I saw that sharks would be cool with piercings. Then I remembered my shark things.” You glance down at your fingers, bringing them to your lips as you notice a tiny part at the very edge of the nail where it would probably tear off. “I just think sharks are cool,” you mumble around your finger.
“They are cool,” he says. He doesn’t want you to accidentally hurt yourself so he adds on, “Will you hold my hand? It’s a little cold.”
You look down at them, “Yeah.” With a nod, you take his hand between both of yours and let them warm his back up. They’re a bit chilly but they don’t feel that cold to you. You hold them anyway, because you love holding his hand. You intertwine your fingers with his and then cover what’s left.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” he says. He thinks for a moment. “Did you eat today?”
You nod, still watching his hand as you turn it to look at his palm. You gently trace the lines of it, forgetting for the moment that he’d wanted you to warm his hand up for him. But, as usual, he doesn’t mind. “I had a cereal bar this morning. One of those Coco Puff ones. They’re like Rice Krispy Treats.” He doesn’t think that’s sustainable. “And, before you ask, I did have water.”
He smiles. “I know. I told you to drink some before we left. You hungry?”
You shake your head, “Not really.”
“You want a snack?” he compromises, hoping—and knowing—you’ll say yes.
“Yes, please.”
“Okay,” he hums. “We’ll grab one on the way back.” Derek nods gently, remembering to do just that. It will only take a moment.
“Thank you.”
“Thank you,” Spencer says, his voice lowering to a whisper. He knows Derek can still hear him, but he always just wants to whisper to you.
You look up at him, “For what?”
“Being so perfect.”
You scoff, rolling your eyes but ultimately smiling at the warmth in your chest. “You’re so cheesy, Spencer Reid.”
He’ll gladly be cheesy for you.
Criminal Minds taglist: @queermaxwooo @mdanon027 @lilianhallee @hpstuff244444 @thegr8estpuff @niktwazny303 @bubbles2300
Tag yourself here...
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on the good omens s2 finale ....
Finally got around to watching this show and at first I was very surprised with the turn of events in episode 6... esp Aziraphale saying "you're the bad guys" about hell, and in general being so happy to invite Crowley back to heaven with him. I thought, surely he knows Crowley would say no, how could he be so naive? truly a tough watch, i was cringing but so invested. And I knew ahead of time they were going to kiss!!! I didn't know it was going to be this way!!!!
I see a lot of parallels between Azi and Zuko's redemption arc in ATLA. In season 2 of ATLA, Zuko is utterly rejected by and pitted against the family and nation he has relied on/been loyal to. Now, he is completely relying on the one person who truly loves him, and he is forced by his circumstances (and gently guided by Iroh) to reckon with taking a new direction in his life. This involves a lot of grief and struggle, and finally, when Zuko starts to adjust to his new life, to find joy in it, he is offered the greatest possible temptation: a glorious return to his family and title.
His father and sister have not changed or regretted their treatment of him; Azula's coaxing at the end of S2, telling Zuko she needs him, is very similar to how she traps Zuko at the beginning of the season, telling him their father regrets his banishment and wants to keep his children close. But from Zuko's perspective, he wants to believe that they do have regrets – that they recognize his efforts and his actions (like how he asserts that "I have changed" when he joins Azula against the gaang).
We know from watching the series play out that this is a necessary regression in his character arc - he needs to encounter these temptations, and eventually turn away from them, for his redemption to feel earned and complete. If not given the chance to return to the fire nation, his life in Ba Sing Se could be seen as making the best of a bad situation - he could still dream every night of returning home.
To return to Good Omens, this is much how I saw S2 play out. Aziraphale, long loyal to heaven despite occasionally diverging according to his own morals, is left a little more on his own and is clearly a bit put out about "not reporting to heaven" anymore. He gets to enjoy shenanigans with the one person who unconditionally loves him, and gain confidence in the decisions he is making against the will of the heavenly bureaucracy, when he is offered the chance to get back everything he lost. Like Zuko, Aziraphale is manipulated into thinking that heaven has changed, because he is being rewarded for his actions with a promotion – so of course, they are on the same side!
I think, despite hearing Crowley say over and over that he is not interested in being on the side of heaven or hell, Aziraphale has always projected a bit of his own feelings about the matter: he thinks Crowley is just saying that because that is a way to make the best of their situation. Not to mention that they both feel that Crowley's fall was undeserved. Aziraphale, like Zuko, have both been indoctrinated to be grateful for any kind of recognition or acceptance, even if they are poorly treated in the process. I would imagine that Crowley, who had to unlearn this long ago, is also worried Aziraphale might be hurt or corrupted by the system around him.
For this reason, I don't think the Metatron will immediately reveal himself as evil and subdue Aziraphale, or that Crowley and Azi have switched bodies again, or that Aziraphale is already hatching some genius plan, or anything like that. In the same way that Zuko had to return home to realize he lied to himself about how his life would turn out, Aziraphale is still hoping to make a positive difference and find a way to reconcile these different threads of his life. This is at the root of his naive, black-and-white thinking during that final confrontation with Crowley - he's just desperate and trying to convince himself. Only once back in heaven will he realize he cannot fit back into his old mold.
I have more thoughts but that will have to be for another post.
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hey guys. im here to rant about how 2econd 2ight 2eer (second sight seer) by will wood is secret life bigb's song because god its eerie how similar the song lyrics are to his character. AHEM (also spoilers for secret life)
My grip on my secrets slipping while I'm speaking in tongues
ok. this is a really good start lol. basically bigb's task don't mean much when he does weird shit anyway for fun and, quote from grian, "writes his own tasks"
Screaming at the top of my lungs in the confession booth
he's saying stuff that litterally makes no sense. even after his task is done he wont tell anyone (confession booth is kinda like people asking about your task after it's done. your confessing your task to someone)
Take it with a pillar of salt, H.A.L.T., it's not my fault
i got nothing man
The devil made me do it, but I also kinda wanted to
THIS LINE AHSHDHSHAH. THE SECRET KEEPER GIVES HIM THE TASKS CAUSE HE HAS TO BUT HE WANTS TO DO THEM ANYWAY ANDDDD MAKE THEM AS CONFUSING AS POSSIBLE. SECRET KEEPER COUNTS AS THE DEVIL HERE
I'm cut from a different kind of meat
More than you can chew, hard to swallow me
"what the hell are you doing??" is a common question he gets asked. hard to swallow. y'know
Forget bored stiff, I got rigor mortis, call it morbid curiosity
How I cannot commit to reality, when my third eye's open and I like what I see
he's doing shit for the sake of doing shit.
Baby, I may be crazy but I didn't lose it, no I set it free
AAAAA THIS LINE TOOO!!! ok so he didn't just randomly start lying in secret life. it was weird before that too! i cant speak for double but LIMITED LIFE he was also confusing people about being the boogeyman. basically that one meme with the "guy weird about everything but its drowned out by how weird about everything the other people are"
I can't ignore what's under dance floorboards, the rhythm of my heart a dead-as-disco beat
But I still move my feet
To slip out of this groove, I'm free
dont got much here but i think this is just him having fun, yknow
Now to row, row, row my boat over the falls
And maybe wake up from but a dream, yeah
"but a dream" is the games. there are three rows in the line. lose your lives to get the game over with.
I'm just a psycho, babe
Come and go out my mind
I didn't lose it babe
There wasn't much to find
once again, this wasnt the first time he was being weird!!!
I'm just a psycho, babe
Come and go out my mind
I'm only passing through
say weird shit, refuse to elaborate, leave.
Oh, oh, o-o-oh
If you knew what I knew, if you saw what I see
You'd look through illusions, hallucinations, and lucid dream
And I know that meaning can be such a pretty thing to keep
But I got facts and I'm not afraid to use 'em, take the good with the bad, take off the back you make a new front
evo, anyone? anyway this man knows about watchers and doesnt care. he knows! he just doesn't give that any meaning.
Some days I'm glad that I am a madman and I'd rather be that than
An amicable animal, mild-mannered cannibal
red lives and how bigb doesn't have the same bloodlust as they do. this guy doesn't kill much, he's like the most passive on the server. /srs
But I'm more level-headed and clever than ever and I'm getting better one forever at a time
how many people guessed any of bigb's tasks? that's right, zero! (if i remember correctly.) he's getting better at the games (btw the games being referred to as "forevers" is just ahshahdghs)
And if sick is defined by what's different, well then pull the plug out and let me die
not much here
Vice-versa, vice versus virtue
Well who I am I choose through all the things I do
AAAAAAAA HE CHOOSES HOW HE IS PERCEIVED BY THE OTHERS BY SAYING HIS STUFF YA GET WHAT IM SAYING
And if it rhymes, it's true, but I hate poetry
contradicting himself. easy peasy analysis here folks.
Now with my moral compass pointing south, I'm going down
With no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no respect for reality
could say this is going red! but also. "going down?" LIKE A HOLE? HE MADE A HOLE?????
I'm just a psycho, babe
Come and go out my mind
I didn't lose it babe
There wasn't much to find
I'm just a psycho, babe
Come and go out my mind
I'm only passing through
I'm just a psycho, babe
Come and go out my mind
I didn't lose it babe
There wasn't much to find
I'm just a psycho, babe
Come and go out my mind
same stuff
A tourist passing through
Well that was fun, goodbye
he died. but hey, he had fun!
anyways thats all thank you for listening to me ramble about songs and minecraft i WILL do this again. sorry if this is incoherent i wrote it at 10:00 pm.
psst... moot... @bigb-enthusiast... would you like this?
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OKOK SO IDK IF YOU'VE DONE ANY POST LIKE THIS BUT
What do you think a 5 star Sampo would be like? Both in lore/personality, and in design or even kit! Hell, maybe how he is introduced as his 5 star version would be cool to think of too. I want more opinions on this, and the idea of his 5 star version makes me more and more excited
Hello anon!!! So, I have talked about it a bit while reblogging @feroluce's post about 5* Sampo ideas but I don't mind elaborating on my thoughts a bit more.
In that post, the idea of Sampo having a 'stage hand' inspired abilities/design was presented and I fell in love with it, so a lot of my thoughts are inspired by it.
First and foremost, I think he would have the fire element as a five star. I've seen a lot of people wanting him to be Quantum, but honestly it doesn't speak to me. Maybe it's because I'm not a fan of the Quantum element in general, I don't know.
I think fire suits him for a variety of reasons, but most importantly, it creates contrast. I'd like to start by mentioning that fire is eye catching, going against his theme of the stage hand, a background entity. Can you imagine? Aha creating Sampo to be eye catching, giving him powers that are meant to be viewed, admired. Sampo being created to be the center of attention, yet he goes against all that. Preferring to stay in the shadows and watch everything unfold from a distance.
I like to think that his design is dark, full of cool colours and drenched in black, showing that he himself wants to blend in with the background and his element being the exact opposite. Him going against his 'nature' you could say. Against his purpose.
If we want to look a bit deeper we can go two ways. Firstly, fire represents enlightenment, self-awareness, rebirth, and rebellion which (if we follow my headcannon of Sampo being a Creation of Elation turned Emanator) would suit him a lot. Enlightenment when he understood the real meaning behind Elation. Self-awareness showing that he understands what he is, what he wants to achieve and how. Rebirth as in leaving the Masked Fools and their flawed view of Elation. Rebellion because he goes against his Aeon, his creator.
Furthermore, it's be nice to see how a character like Sampo would respond to having Aha as a "parent"/creator. The struggle of sharing an ideology yet trying to distance himself from his creator. His appearance being the complete opposite of his powers would be a cool way to show how he resists Aha's view of Elation.
As for his playable path... I want to keep him Nihility. The path of IX is very similar to the Elation at it's core. Both believe that the universe has no meaning, THEY just respond to it differently. Where IX does nothing because there's no point in doing anything, Aha acts in a way that would entertain only THEMSELVES.
Alternatively, it'd be nice if Hoyo made the Elation a playable path only for Sampo's 5* design. It'd be mad funny but also on theme with how meme-y hsr really is.
Now, for his clothing. Like mentioned previously cool tones and dark clothing is the way to go. But, to elaborate more on that I think there's specific parts of his original 4* design that I would like to keep, like his jacket that looks like a ring leader's jacket, just in a different colour and with other accessories/details.
The snake symbolism should stay as well, I think. It's be nice that instead of snake bones it would be leather and shit, to show that it's "alive", that he's back to being an active Emanator.
I also really like the idea of him having two sets on hands that at his fingertips end in different colours that was proposed by the original post I linked earlier. The first set fading to white and the second to black showing how one set is pulling the strings in the background while the other is the one everyone sees.
I think his mask should rest on top of his head like Sparkle's, a plain red thing contrasting with his blue hair and dark clothing, another contrast to Aha.
Personality-wise I think he would be pretty much the same, expect less greedy and money-driven. I don't know, I feel like that's a part of Sampo Koski's personality, not his, if that makes sense.
If you want a bit more on how 5* could work in my mind in the story I recommend you read my post on Gepard's role in the story, although it's mostly about Gepard I managed to sneak in a few thoughts on Emanator Sampo because of course I did
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any McLennon fic recs ?
CRACKS FINGERS
immediate rec is your lucky break by @forthlin bc millies writing makes me throw up and scream and cry and this is the fic that got us talking so!! also, young paul and dilf john and I eat it UP. also literally any of their fics are so so good. the latest one is our fic together so I won't rec it but... their writing in the john pov they wrote is soooo good so. I'll rec their half!
✨ = all time fave
just pulling from my bookmarks.......
grow old with me
Paul breaks his arm, and John panics
explicit. fix-it.
and when the broken bodies are washed to shore (who am I to ask for more)
“Jesus, took you long enough,” John says, adjusting the duffle over his shoulder. “Thought I might be out here til morning at this rate.”
For a second he wonders if he’s drunker than he thought, but no. As far as he can tell, it is still 1980, and he hasn’t seen or so much as spoken to John in ten years
mature. fix-it.
John My Beloved ✨
They've always loved each other, in their own way...
explicit. major character death. literally fucking killed me I sat there at 7am after staying up all night and teared up. I cry like. once a year.
i was a younger man then (now) (post hoc) ✨
John’s twelve when a bloke appears from a flaming pie and says, “From this day forward you are Beatles with an ‘a.’” The bloke is Paul.
Or: paul and john meet at all ages and eras and john is the time-traveler’s wife the way only john lennon can be
mature. fix-it. time traveler's wife au that lives forever in my mind rent free.
Stop all the clocks (by @javelinbk)
‘1967. After Brian dies, Paul decides not to go ahead with MMT, and takes John up to Scotland for a month instead.’
mature
Like Love, The Archers Are Blind
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
explicit
Boy, You've Been A Naughty Girl ✨
John makes Paul a bet. Paul takes him up on it. Crossdressing shenanigans and angst ensue, and ~feelings come out in the wash. 1961.
OR: boys in knickers, lots and lots (and lots) of sex, angst, homophobic slurs, schmoop. The Pineapple Club is fictitious. Originally posted on LJ in 2012
explicit. what can I say but whshwjjajjakak
I Still Miss Someone (series)
It's 1976 and Paul keeps showing up on John's doorstep with a guitar. Eventually John turns him away and Paul goes off to sulk in his hotel room the night before his flight from New York. Based on real events
explicit. not a fix-it.... real to me though
christmas lights (keep shinin' on)
"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."
mature.
two of us (burning matches)
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
explicit. honestly literally everything by obstinatrix is 💖💖💖
one and one and one is three ✨ by @pauls1967moustache
Even with how badly he wants this, John wouldn't want it if he didn't think it would make Paul feel good. That's the point. It can be good, the three of them. It can work, if Paul lets it.
explicit. failed yoko/john/paul. also literally everything this author writes...... shout outs: a great threat (female paul/yoko w delicious mclennon in the bg) baby it's all relative verse (don't talk to me. the one time I've ever Ever in my life read foot kink and it???? it works??? they'd do this. I don't want them to. but this is real. entered my "psyche of john lennon" file. )
PROBABLY MORE....... but these are the ones that I keep thinking about and ruminating on.
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