#dc constantine

[sheiak]

Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars?

hope you're happy

[phoenixigniscrowley]

Why is he hot 😍🔥

[sheiak]

I'm sorry I failed you smallstantine, next time I will get to the mall to buy the pink glasses

[dumbass-writer]

Happy pride to Lucifer Morningstar and John Constantine for being the best pansexual representation

[sheiak]

I hate, really hate how people view Constantine sexuality if you're not into the character per se.

I know I have spoken about it before but unfortunately for us all I came across something again.

it was a Spanish tweet about "DC with its LGBT characters" (Then a bunch of chars) "Look at my cute babies, I feel so proud of you all"

then a pic of John "You know? I'm part of the community too"

DC: "Who gave you the permission to come out of the basement?"

until then okay, a joke calling DC out. but then, someone asks, without any ill intent, "What's Constantine's orientation?" and I kid you not, everyone answering but one, that said "I believe he's pan but nothing has been confirmed I think" (which is not true but well, bi erasure doesn't surprise me, maybe Spurrier is partly at fault), said things like "he's holesexual", "YES", "Any hole but Harley, you gotta have limits" and things of the sort.

people it's pride moth and he's one or the most misunderstood queer characters, pick up a comic! again, it doesn't mean John shouldn't engage with sex or sexuality, he should, but he's not a rabid beast who would go after anything that moves.

[godsconscience42]

John you just got your shit rocked. I am begging you to put some pants on.

[cherlovespink]

better than me - john constantine

wc: 1.1k

synopsis: you and john fought, but this time he says something that even he knows went too far. 

warnings/ tags: just a little arguing, but this is a sad one :(, john yearning in a way that borders on ooc, emotionally guarded reader, established relationship 

(when he loves you but is unable to show it and also a wizard ok) 

Now playing:「✦A Lot’s Gonna Change - Weyes Blood✦」♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။|||||

while i don’t think he’d be the best partner, i think john constantine would know when he’d pushed you too far. 

you two fought, of course, but this time just felt different. you’d asked, practically begged him to explain why he couldn’t just be a bit safer while working on his cases. you engaged in similar work to his, yet you were smart enough to make a decent effort to look before you leap and tie up your loose ends. in your eyes, the way john went about dabbling in the occult was reckless, and it was starting to hurt. 

“don’t you ever think about what could happen? because with the shit you deal with, it wouldn’t just hurt you. think about chas…zee…anyone,” you trail off. you were too prideful to include yourself in that list out loud, but you knew he knew. 

he always knew. 

“what do you want me to say?” he sighs, tiredly falling back onto your couch, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. he rested his forehead in his hands like this conversation was giving him a migraine. 

“i don’t want you to say anything. i’m just…sick of you being so irresponsible. it’s inconsiderate,” you spit back, walking over to stand in front of him with your arms folded over your chest.

he continues to rest his head in his hands, not daring to say anything. john may have been reckless, but he wasn’t stupid enough to spit back some childish insult at you, now. 

“well?” you urge, feeling your anger and hurt rise up your throat in a burning sensation. 

before you can fit in another word, he snaps his head up to look at you. 

“well? well?! i don’t know what you want me to do. i mean…i put my life on the line everyday to do the things i do and…and this is what i get? you yelling at me for doing what i have to?” 

“oh please,” you roll your eyes. “john we’ve been doing this long enough that you know that’s not an excuse. the way you go about things isn’t just stupid…it’s selfish.” 

“well i can’t help the fact that…,” he trails off with that smug, exasperated grin on his face. 

“you can’t help what john? go on,” you egg him on, frustration lacing your every word. 

he takes a deep breath and looks back up at you. 

“i can’t help the fact that what i do is bigger than all of us...so it’s just more important than you.” 

you go to snap back, but stop yourself the second you process what he just said. you look down at your shoes, chest still heaving with lingering anger, as you repeat his words in your head. 

and, the worst part is, it’s not even shocking. startled couldn’t even properly describe what you’re feelings. no, what you feel deep in your gut is simple, unbridled, excruciating disappointment. 

“well,” you reply after a few moments, quiet in a way that reveals your fatigue. 

the second he looks back up to your eyes, he feels his chest squeeze with guilt. 

“come on, i didn’t…i didn’t mean that,” he starts weakly, quietly. because, no matter how many arguments you got in, no matter how many things you yelled at one another, he’d never said something so callously honest. 

you shake your head softly, averting your eyes out the window, because you knew tears would follow if you saw him again. you simply stare out at the city, dark and quiet, leaving the tension to fill your every sense. 

his blue eyes search your face desperately. while there was definitely a part of truth in what he said, he didn’t mean to hurt you. because, truthfully, despite john’s inability to put anything before his work, if anyone could come close to doing that, it would be you. always you. you’d become so important to him over the past few years—so much so that he’d admitted to himself he may not be able to go on without you, though he’d never tell you that. 

as his eyes drag over your cheek, your nose, your eyes—god, your eyes—he feels his heart ache. you just look so sad—so lost. and the second he sees those beautiful eyes start to glisten with tears, he can’t take it anymore. 

he sits up, gently wrapping his arms around your waist with intention only akin to how you would hold a delicate flower. and john was never one to baby you—he knew you hated that, and he viewed you as much too independent to even wish to treat you that way. however, this time, he knew he’d need to handle you with a new form of care. he wraps his arms around your waist until he can lean forward, resting his chin on your stomach to look up at you. 

“please…don’t cry over me, love,” he pleads softly, trying to coax you into looking down into his eyes. 

and, the second he sees you squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to quell your tears, he shifts slightly, pressing a soft kiss over your shirt, right above your navel. 

“please…,” he whispers softly, lips still pressed to your stomach. 

“don’t waste your tears on someone like me…you deserve better than this…better than me,” he continues softly, feeling his throat tighten with every ragged breath he feels in your stomach. 

“i just…wish you…,” you choke out softly, finding the combination of your hurt and his lips on your stomach making it too hard to think. 

“wish what, love? tell me…” he coaxes, his usually rough voice sounding almost comically soft now. 

“i wish you just…cared about me like i do…,” you sniffle, resting your head in your hands choking out small sobs. 

you two may have never looked so pathetic together before. with your teary eyes hidden in your hands, and his guilty conscience buried in your stomach. this display of emotion was not normal for either of you—that may have been what made you usually work well together (to some extent). however, something about this felt intimate in a way you’d never explored before, and you knew he could feel it, too. 

he takes one more inhale of your skin beneath your shirt before looking back up to you. seeing you have your face hidden in your hands, he removes his hands from around you, only to reach up gently taking your hands from your face. he holds your hands in his as his eyes finally meet your misty ones. 

“oh, love,” he mutters, almost to himself, as he takes your hands and presses a kiss to both of them. “i care about you more than anything…,” he starts, looking back up into your pretty eyes.

“i just can’t handle nice things, can i?” 

[sheiak]

after 5 hous and a melted pen, smallstantine at least has someone!

ignore the remnants of hot glue, I wanted to clean up the room a bit first