#(who happens to love the beatles but beside the point)

[asurrogateblog]

have you seen John's collage for Paul called "I Only Have Eyes For You"? do you have any thoughts about it? 👀

yes I HAVE seen it

for the unfamiliar this is what anon is talking about:

.....uh huh.....sure john......

SO. as far as I remember, there's a bit of a debate on whether "I Only Have Eyes For You" is actually what it was called, or whether it was named that after-the-fact because of all the eyes on it, which obviously affects how we interpret it.

regardless of the name though, it has a very particular sort of.... "art project that gets your daughter sent to the school guidance counselor at the beginning of a horror movie" vibe that I personally think is incredibly fucking hilarious. NONE of the other collages john gave to people look anything like this. it's so blatantly emotionally tortured that it almost feels satirical

oh, and what's even funnier to me is that (at least according to the book about collage by peter blake, in which it appears), john made this in the late 50's. so the beatles torment nexus – which might better explain its existence – had just. not happened yet. honestly the energy this gives off makes me think that the book must have printed a typo or something, it feels so late 60's or even early 70's. no matter what tho, the mental image of him either handing it to paul in person or mailing it to him? 10/10 no notes

as for the implied question "do you think it's gay? ...I Want To Believe. it feels like a sister artwork to all of paul's disturbing repressed homosexual grief paintings. so I will be interpreting it that way for my own enjoyment

[alloftheimaginesblog]

an old friend, a new start part ii {remus lupin}

plot: Fourteen years after graduating Hogwarts, you're offered a job to be the new Muggle Music Professor. Funnily enough, your old friend, Remus Lupin, is also offered a new job at Hogwarts that year.

in this chapter: you and remus rekindle your friendship.

character: remus lupin x female reader

note: 6k words

PART ONE

It was surprising how easy it was, how normal it was to be here again and be with him. Remus had always made things easy, he made people feel comfortable it's why you already knew he was a good professor. He was exactly the right kind of soft that students would respond well to.

The first thing you did was give Remus a tour of your classroom, "It's not set up yet but can you imagine the vision?" You said after giving him an in depth explanation of everything you wanted to do with it. Remus smiled at your passion. You had always had this passion for music ever since you were a teenager, always singing and playing music for the group, introducing them to your favourite bands and songs. Remus missed that; he missed your music.

"First lesson, we're delving into the different periods of music and I'm going to introduce them to the Beatles."

Remus laughed, "Remember when you first brought the Beatles into Sirius's life?" You grinned at the memory.

"What's that?" Sirius frowned, hearing the music you were playing from the turntable, "Is that music? Is this some Muggle invention?"

"It's called a record player," Remus told him, "It's (y/n)'s. Plays music."

"Is that circle thing music?"

You laughed, "Yeah, that's a record. It has music in the grooves." You stopped the music to take the disk off to show him. Sirius pawed it carefully not wanting to break it.

"Muggles are pretty magic too, you know," he said, "Play it, will you?"

You set it back up, turning the volume up for Sirius to hear it. He was silent for three songs. You and Remus made eye contact, stifling your laughter, "What's this band called?" Sirius asked eventually.

"The Beatles. Band with 4 men in it; Paul, John, George and Ringo... What do you think?"

"I think... I love it..."

And from there developed Sirius's new personality. It wasn't long before he was screaming out the lyrics to Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds as he danced around the common room.

"It became his personality for a few weeks, didn't it?" You and Remus shared a laugh, "Remember McGonagall put a silence charm on him so she could get through half a lesson without him singing I Wanna Hold Your Hand."

Remus's smile was wide, reaching his eyes making them light up, aglow with delight. You could tell that rarely happened anymore. You loved to see it. He looked five years younger when he smiled, not that he was particularly old as you were both in your early thirties but... he was tired.

It was then a clock chimed on the wall of your classroom. The two of you looked to it, "Oh, shall we head to the Great Hall?" You asked him, "Dinner will be served shortly." So the two of you walked to the Great Hall together, pointing at things on your way.

"Remember when we hid in that cupboard to watch Lily and James have their first kiss."

"That's the classroom used for the first time we all had detention together."

"Oh god, they've still never gotten rid of that god awful painting-" "Hey!" The painting yelled at you which made you give a sheepish, "Sorry" as Rem laughed behind you.

You found the Great Hall, it was indeed like riding a bike, you never really forgot how to get places and the more you explored, the more you remembered. Minerva smiled widely upon seeing you both laughing as you walked into the hall. She gestured to two seats beside Snape as the children began to funnel into the hall. It was then you noticed someone.

"Hagrid?" You beamed, "It is you!"

The giant, who had been attempting to sit on the far too small seat, straightened and looked at you, "(y/n)!" Hagrid grinned, clapping you on the shoulder, "Bloody hell, been a while, hasn' it? And Remus!"

Hagrid's giant hand took Remus's and shook it gladly as Remus smiled and said, "Hello, old friend."

"Look at you both. Are you Professors now?" You both nodded, "If only they could see the pair o' you now, eh?" He sniffed and you realised his eyes were watery and glassy looking. Hagrid was always one to get a little emotional.

You smiled sadly, patting his forearm, "Harry's just like James, isn't he?"

Hagrid nodded, looking out to find Harry in the crowd, "Love 'im," Hagrid sniffed again, pulling a large handkerchief from his pocket and dabbing at his eyes, "love 'im as though he was my own." It would be later from Harry you'd find out that Hagrid helped to look after him, always offering a friendly face and advice, always looking out for him. Hagrid had done the same for you, Remus, James, Sirius and Peter (and then Lily). Always welcomed you into his cottage for tea and to look at his newest creature. Hagrid was always there for you and you appreciated that he was always there for Harry too.

Remus patted his arm this time and the two of you moved around him to go sit down beside Snape as Dumbledore had stepped up to address the school. He gave you both a smile and a small nod of his head in greeting. Snape's frown deepened when you and Remus sat beside him which made you stifle a laugh, "Hey, Sev."

Severus scoffed.

After the sorting, Albus introduced you and Remus as the new Professors making you both stand up and give a little wave. You could see Harry, Ron and Hermione smiling as they clapped. You were excited to get to know all about James's boy. You just knew that if James were here, god he would be so proud of his son. He would be bragging to everyone he met and Lily would watch him amused. If Lily could see him, if Lily could hold him, your heart panged and you felt tears burn at your eyes. It broke your heart knowing that Harry would never know how much they both adored him. You remembered the day you first met Harry Potter.

James had answered the door, bags under his eyes but grinning widely, "He's upstairs with Lils," he told you and Remus, "Padfoot's already there." As you walked up the stairs to see the baby, you could hear Padfoot's coos and babbles to the day old baby, "He's taken to him like a mermaid to water."

You rounded the corner, turning into the nursery, and there they were. Lily's hair was tied up, she too looked exhausted but couldn't stop smiling and Sirius, bless him, Sirius was there with the biggest smile which only got wider when he saw the three of you.

"Look, Moony," Sirius beamed, "Ghost, look!" He used your Animagus name. You took form of a white wolf who was rather good at hiding and staying quiet, hence adopting the name Ghost from your peers, "He's real!"

"(y/n)," Lily said with a proud smile, "Remus, meet Harry. Harry James Potter."

"Can I?" You asked softly, reaching your arms out. Lily nodded and she helped you bundle the warm, tiny baby boy into your arms, "Oh my god," you whispered, laughing incredulously as Harry blinked up at you with big eyes. You could've stayed there all day with him in your arms, "Oh, guys," you said, eyes flooding with tears as you looked between James and Lily, "he's perfect."

You found yourself walking over to Remus, "Look at him, Rem." Remus's face softened, instantly under the young Harry's spell and you carefully handed him over to Remus. Your smile only widened as you watched Remus cradle him. Remus smiled up at you for a few seconds, a dazed silly smile on his face, before your attentions turned back to Harry.

Remus nudged you, noticing your watery eyes, "Are you alright?" He asked softly.

You nodded quickly, "Just thinking," you told him before you both dug into the feast that appeared before you.

Over the next few weeks, you settled quickly into your new role as a Professor. You, with the help of Remus after hours, had done up your classroom. Remus had painted the walls as you made a better display area for your Muggle instruments and you set up your record player and all of the records in a nice cabinet. Classes were going well, you were slowly beginning to get your class more and more interested in Muggle Music even Ron Weasley seemed to be more interested once he'd heard some of the music that Muggles made.

It was on the second week of term that Harry Potter asked you and Lupin if he could chat to the two of you about his parents. You'd both agreed and set a time and place. At three o'clock that following Tuesday, Harry knocked on your office door. Remus was already there with you.

"Come in, Harry," Remus smiled warmly. God, his voice was like honey, sweet and warm.

You poured some tea for the three of you and laid out some biscuits. Harry chewed on a biscuit with a slight frown, "Where do you want to start?" You asked him, "Do you have any questions-"

"How did you meet my parents? Sorry, I- I have a lot of questions." His cheeks tinged pink and you shook your head with a smile.

"We have all the time in the world, Harry, don't worry. Any questions you have, we'll answer." You glanced over at Remus who nodded and you began to tell the story of how you first met his parents.

The train was already packed full of Hogwarts students. You nervously checked in each train compartment and got a lot of blank looks from students who looked much older than you. You searched for what felt like forever until you came across a carriage with a nervous looking young boy in it.

"Hi," you said with a nervous smile as you opened the door, "Are you a first year too?" He nodded, "Can I sit with you? All the other carriages are full and I-" his nod cut your babble off."

"As you can tell by Professor (y/l/n)'s first impression of me, I was a rather shy, isolated young boy," Remus said, cutting into your conversation, "it was your dad who brought me out of my shell."

Harry smiled.

You were sitting in silence, the boy didn't want to talk at all so you stayed quiet. After a few minutes, the door slid open and a boy with long dark hair strode in with a boy with circle glasses, "I'm Sirius," he said with a curt nod, "you first years too yeah?"

You nodded as you introduced yourself. Sirius glanced at the quiet boy who sat in the corner, "What's your name?" He asked. The boy ducked his head, "What? Cat got your tongue?"

"Sirius," the boy with circle glasses scolded. They'd only just met and yet they acted like they'd been friends for years, "Sorry about him. I'm James. James Potter." James stuck his hand out to the quiet boy who eyed him for a minute before straightening and accepting his handshake.

"Remus," he said, "Remus Lupin."

James grinned and Sirius quickly moved on, "What house are you all hoping to be in?"

You shrugged, "I'm Muggleborn so I don't really know anything about Hogwarts or magic or anything like that."

Sirius ran through the four houses giving a quick breakdown of them all, "Slytherin's got the reputation for being full of evil witches and wizards... Speaking of, my whole family have been in Slytherin."

"Blimey," said James, "and I thought you seemed all right!" You and Remus laughed at what James had said.

Sirius grinned, "Maybe I'll break the tradition. Where are you heading, if you've got the choice?"

James lifted an invisible sword, "Gryffindor," he said loudly, "where dwell the brave at heart! Like my dad."

Harry's face stretched into an amazed grin, "So my grandfather was a Gryffindor too?"

Remus smiled, "From then, we were inseparable. I met another boy in a class of mine, Peter, and he joined us."

You told Harry of meeting his mother after you were sorted into Gryffindor, "She was always so kind," you told him, "to everyone... except your father at first." Remus laughed, "James immediately fancied Lily and we had to put with him trying to get her attention for years."

"Did she not like him at first then?" The thought made Harry laugh, "What did she do?"

Remus spoke up, "He would always try and impress her, shout to her in public or in class. He was always very brave, your father. Lily would usually roll her eyes and shoot back from sarcastic comment to him."

"He always made us sit close to her and her group of friends at dinner and breakfast," you told him, "and she always liked us, she liked me and Rem, Peter, she even liked Sirius and sometimes Sirius could be hard to swallow but it took a long time for her to warm up to James."

"When was it they got together?" Harry asked curiously.

"Seventh year," Remus said, "your dad had quite a big ego, I'm sorry to say, but in his seventh year he really sorted himself out."

"Became Head Boy," you smiled, "I still think he was doing it to prove his worth to Lily-"

"And it worked?" Harry grinned.

Remus laughed, "Oh it worked. When Lily saw that he had matured, even just slightly, she fell for him. She was Head Girl too so had to spend quite a bit of time with him and it wasn't long before we watched them share their first kiss."

Harry laughed, "What were they like together?"

Your smile was wide as you remembered, "It was like they'd been together forever. They laughed a lot and always had so much fun. Lily was always keeping him in line. And god, once the two of them started dating, they were always kissing much to Sev's displeasure."

Harry frowned and you realised you might have said too much, "Sev? As in Severus? Severus Snape?"

"Unfortunately," Remus nodded, "your father and him didn't get on well at all."

"No wonder," Harry scoffed, "but what did you mean 'much to Sev's displeasure'?"

"Your mother had been friends with Severus, even before Hogwarts, they lived close by and they were friendly." You laughed at Harry yelling 'what?!', "Yes. There was a sort of rivalry with your dad and Snape. He liked your mum-"

"Tell me she didn't go out with him."

Remus chuckled, "No, no, she was his friend until he said some rather unpleasant things to her about her blood type." Harry knew the slur, Malfoy had called Hermione it before, "She wasn't friends with him after that. He never apologised and she turned her back on him but he always had a soft spot for her."

"Maybe that's why Snape hates me," Harry said with a frown, "he's always acted as though I'm the worst student in the world... He hated my dad and was jealous of him."

You shrugged, "Maybe yeah but Sev just hates everyone, Harry... Oh, I have a photo album!" You remembered and you hurried to your office and your adjoined room to dig through your books to find the brown leather book.

When you brought it back through, Harry was excited. He looked through the pictures, soaking each one in. You pointed out you, Remus, Peter and Sirius. He didn't need help pointing out his dad and mum.

"I really do look like him, don't I?" He laughed, "People tell me but he's around my age and... wow. And my mum! Her eyes!"

Tears filled your eyes and Remus's hand stretched across the table to take yours. You looked at Rem with a watery eyed smile which he returned, "Oh, I'm being silly," you said as Harry asked if you were okay, "I haven't seen these photos in years."

Harry looked at a picture of you and Remus where you were laughing together and then he looked at your joined hands, "Professors, this might be too invasive but... are you two together?"

Your eyes widened and heart skipped a beat and Remus's hand suddenly left yours. Remus answered with a laugh and a shake of his head, "Just friends, Harry, just friends." His answer left you feeling a little crestfallen. Were your old feelings for Remus beginning to stir again?

Harry shrugged before returning to the pictures. Your mind whirred. You'd seen the picture of you and Remus as you laughed, not knowing that Sirius had taken the picture until afterwards. You were both so happy, you'd always been so happy with Remus. James had tried to make you tell him but you were so scared that you'd ruin the friendship so it was your second best kept secret, first being Remus's furry friend.

"What were their laughs like?" Harry's question snapped you out of your trance.

You heart panged at his question, "Lily's was very musical," you said with a smile, "happy. But when she was with your dad, he made her belly laugh like no other. Her laughter was loud with him, she'd even snort during it sometimes."

Remus's eyes were glazed over as he remembered James's, "James laughed and you knew you were in for something, usually trouble but he had a laugh that would make you laugh as well no matter the trouble that he was about to get you in."

You looked outside realising that darkness had fallen, "Merlin's beard, look at the time! Dinner will be starting in fifteen minutes, we better go."

Harry looked disappointed, "Fret not, Harry," Remus said clapping his shoulder gently, "we'll happily answer any more questions you have or tell you stories or whatever later, okay?" Harry nodded, thanking you both before Remus sent him on his way.

You exhaled a long breath, "He's so like them both isn't he? Sweet like Lily with a hint of James's confidence."

Remus smiled warmly and agreed before telling you that he was going for dinner, "You coming?"

You nodded, "Yeah, I'll put this away then I'll come." Remus told you that he'd wait. You took your photo album and moved to your office. With a breath, you opened the book to look at the photo of you and Remus again. You looked at the way Remus smiled at you, eyes happy. Did you love him?

Remus called on you, "Are you alright?"

Clearing your throat, you closed the photo album, put it down before going back out to meet him forcing a smile.

The following week was Remus's time of the month. Severus begrudgingly was in charge of making the Wolfsbane for him to drink each day of the week before the full moon. He had asked you to cover a couple of his classes. The week leading up to his transformation was always taxing on poor Remus. He grew sick and lethargic. He managed to do his Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday classes but for the rest of the week, he couldn't manage to get out of his bed. Severus had taken his Thursday classes and you were covering Friday classes. You would bring Remus breakfast and dinner each day, he would hardly eat it but you brought it regardless.

The week passed slowly, you were finding that you missed his presence more and more, craving his conversations and his smiles. Once Friday was gone, he would be fine again. You just had to make it Friday.

On Monday, Harry, Hermione and Ron stayed back after Muggle Music to ask what was wrong with Professor Lupin, "Just a bug," you said with a dismissive shake of your head, "Harry, I'm afraid we'll have to wait until he's back on his feet before we have another little chat, alright?" Harry nodded, fine with that.

On Tuesday, you introduced your class to The Beatles. The different reactions were pretty funny. A few, like Hermione, were already aware but for those like Ron, his jaw dropped and he made you turn it up, "And they're Muggles?!" He said incredulously, "Bloody hell, they're alright aren't they?"

On Wednesday, you met with Minerva in her office for some tea, "How is Remus, dear?" She asked.

"Suffering," you said with a grimace, "not eating much but that's not unusual for the week before. It's usually the week afterwards that he really gorges on food. The potion that Severus is making is good, it means he'll keep his mind for his transformation."

Minerva pursed her lips, "Will you go and visit him when he's transformed?" She eyed you curiously, "As your wolf self?"

Your jaw dropped, "You know?!"

She sipped at her tea with a twinkle in her eyes, "Oh my dear, an Animagus always knows another. Just like I knew Mr Potter, Mr Black and Mr Pettigrew were all the same."

Your hand covered your mouth as your cheeks burned, "Oh my god, I can't believe you knew all this time! We thought we were so sly and- you knew the whole time?"

Minerva gave a comical roll of the eyes, "It really wasn't so hard to notice especially when James had the Mandrake leaf in his mouth for a month. The boy's face was permanently disgusted and I knew that feeling all too well."

"Does Dumbledore know?"

Minerva nodded.

"Why did you never stop us? Send us to Azkaban?"

The much older Professor sighed, "Because once I realised what you were all doing, I went to Dumbledore immediately. Of course I knew about Remus and his condition but it was Dumbledore who realised what you were all up to. You were transforming to make his transformation easier for him, keeping him in line and making sure he knew he had friends there looking out for him." She smiled, "Dumbledore would never send any of you to Azkaban for merely looking out for your friend. He was rather proud of you all though he would never dare tell Mr Potter, the size of his ego back then was already huge, could you imagine?"

You laughed loudly, "Oh yeah, James would've never shut up about that if he knew... I can't believe you both knew this whole time. Well, thank you... I probably will go and see him during his transformation, it always helped and even though he keeps his mind I think he might quite like a reminder of a friend. He's a lonely man."

McGonagall eyed you before speaking, "I don't know if you'll remember but I do. In your third year, I was teaching you all about Animagus's after Sirius had queried it. I told you that your Animagus form takes a lot of inspiration from who you are as a person and those you love dearly. Remus is a werewolf, you are a wolf, are you not?" You nodded, "What do you think that means?"

You swallowed feeling rather small in the red armchair that you were sat in, "I... I don't know what you mean." You couldn't hold her gaze. She pursed her lips and stayed silent waiting for you to come to the conclusion yourself. You already knew the answer. You loved him, "I think we both know, Minerva."

She smiled knowingly, "Yes, I suppose we do, don't we? Forgive me for prying, why did the two of you lose contact?"

"It was all too painful," you said with a frown, "After losing James and Lily, losing Peter and having Sirius to blame, it felt awful seeing Remus with that constant reminder hanging over us. We went from seeing each other every day to every other day to once a week... once a month... once every six months to nothing... It's been good getting back here and seeing him again. It's like things never changed between us. A coincidence but a great one."

Minerva placed her teacup down, "My dear, I believe in no such thing as coincidence. I think it was fate."

On Friday, you were taking Remus's morning and afternoon class. He had written down his plans for the week so you were merely following that though when you started, Hermione's hand shot straight up into the air.

"Professor (y/l/n)?" She asked with a curious expression, "With Professor Snape yesterday we were covering werewolves instead of this."

Your heart skipped a beat as you tried your hardest to keep your face neutral, "Oh really?" You shrugged, "He must've read Professor Lupin's plans for the week wrong." You could tell that Hermione wasn't buying it but you carried on, trying not to let it show that what she'd said had rattled you. Was Severus trying to expose Remus's condition to the class? You managed to get through the rest of the afternoon lesson and as soon as you had dismissed the class, you were storming your way to the Potions classroom.

Professor Snape was teaching his first years but you didn't care. You had to speak to him then and there. You knocked loudly on the door and gave a sickly sweet smile, "Professor Snape, can I speak to you privately outside? Won't be a minute."

Snape frowned and told his class to continue reading. He followed you outside, closing the door behind him. You strode across the hall, throwing his office door open and storming inside, "Oh please do come into my office," Snape muttered sarcastically.

Once he'd shut the door you'd rounded on him, "What the bloody hell are you playing at?!"

He raised his eyebrows, "I have no idea what you're talking about," he said, bored.

"Teaching them about werewolves? Remus had left his lesson plan for the week on the table and-" you pointed to Snape's desk, "he left you one here. No mention of werewolves, eh, Sev?"

Severus rolled his eyes, "Must have been my mistake," he drawled.

"Bullshit!" You hissed, "You're trying to get him exposed, aren't you? You want him out."

"And what if I do?!" Snape snapped suddenly, "A school is no place for a monster."

"And yet they let you come back?!" You fake gasped, "You've never changed, Snape. Still a rotten, twisted bully."

This angered him, "Me?!" He spluttered, "A bully?! Your beloved friends James and Sirius were the bullies-"

"James never called her a Mudblood though, did he?" Your final blow rendered Severus speechless, "Never treated her like shit, did he? You did and you have to live with the reality that she never loved you - she loved him." You were breathing hard, knowing that you'd overstepped many lines here but you were past caring. Severus's lips were pressed tightly together in a straight line.

With one last glare, you began to leave his office when Severus said quietly, "He won't dare be with you, you know... He's a coward, he'll push you away. Doesn't matter if he does love you or not. He'll never admit to it. He'd rather be alone than be with you." You ignored him and slammed the door behind you but as you hurriedly rushed back to your office, you found tears burning at your eyes... He knew that Severus Snape was telling the truth.

When night fell, you went to Remus's classroom. He had made his way out of his room and was currently taking his last of the Wolfsbane Potion, "What you doing here?" He asked wincing at the foul taste.

"When was the last time your transformed with another furry friend?"

He blinked, surprised at your response, "You're going to stay with me?"

"Yeah. I'll transform once yours starts and I'll stay with you. You always did say it helped you."

"I have the potions now, they let me keep my mind so I'll be myself in my mind. You don't have to-"

"I know," your voice was soft like silk, "but I want to." Remus breathed in deeply, finding that his heart felt rather full.

You helped him lock the door with various protection spells. Neither of you spoke much, you knew how drained he was so instead you just kept him company until the moon began to shine through the windows. You could remember the first time you saw Remus transform and unlike James, who'd been rather disturbed by the cracking bones and elongated limbs, you were fascinated. You watched as he transformed, claws growing, fangs protruding, tufts of hair sprouting all over his face and body as his clothes tore and ripped off.

You closed your eyes, focusing, and then you yourself transformed into your Animagus form. You took the form of your white wolf and waited for Remus to fully transform. When he did, he looked around, golden eyes meeting yours and he gave a low growl. You stayed, unmoving, as you waited for Remus to take over control. He crouched low, growl growing louder. He blinked, gave a shake of his head and his body relaxed. You padded over to him as he lay down, pulling a blanket from his desk and covering him. When in his normal mind, he would sleep and wait for the night to be over. You curled next to him, fluffy head resting on his werewolf's arm, tickling at his neck. There you both remained until day broke.

You woke up early, feeling him transform back to human under your head. You transformed back, pulling the blanket over him. He stirred at the touch. Neither of you spoke but once Remus was fully awake, he realised that he was naked beneath the blanket, "Shut your eyes, will you?" He asked groggily.

You complied and you could hear him get up and go into his office. He called that you could open them so you did, stretching out your muscles. He appeared a few minutes later dressed in brown slacks and a grey button down shirt, the top two buttons left undone. He sat down beside you again, "Thank you for staying with me last night."

You gave him a small, sad smile as you scooted closer, wiping his hair from his face. He was so exhausted, so worn-out... Your heart panged for him, "You look so tired, Rem," your voice was but a whisper, "so tired."

Remus breathed in deeply, overcome with emotion. He loved you. He knew that, he always had and with you being back in Hogwarts and back in his life well that just proved it, didn't it? Where you had touched left his face feeling hot. He swallowed. This was it. This was the moment. The moment to push you away or let you in. God, Remus wanted to let you in, he wanted to kiss you, wanted to hold you, wanted to finally feel you. After all this time and he was still like putty in his hands, ready to do anything you asked of him... But there was something inside him, a dark mass that stretched out poisoning his mind with the darkness. You were his friend, that was all. There was no way that you could love him back. You were out of his league, you pitied him. And then all of a sudden his face changed, contorting to one of anger and he pulled back sharply.

"What are you doing?" He snapped, voice cold and angry, "We're not children anymore."

You were confused. You'd been hoping that he would've kissed you, would've told you how he felt but you never expected this, "Remus, what are you doing?"

He stood with a scoff. You didn't know why he was so angry, what had you done? "I let myself get carried away with you like I'm sixteen again running around with you but I'm not, you're not. We're adults. We're hardly friends now, we've not been in each other's lives for a decade! We're practically strangers." The way he yelled it, voice full of venom and disgust... It was like he was cutting the tie of his one last true relationship and for what reason?

"We are friends, Rem," you said, standing to meet him dominant stance, "You don't have to push me away. You promised I'd be the one you never pushed away!"

"You're not a teenager anymore, (y/n), it's time to stop acting like it." He had turned away from you, uncaring, "So I made a promise I didn't intend to keep, I'm sure you've done the same at one point or another."

"Why are you doing this?" You asked, eyes flooding with tears, "Why are you pushing me away?" You didn't know how to make him stay, you didn't know how to bring him back to you. Could you bring him back? "Remus, please don't do this. I-I care about you, a lot. I..." You took a deep breath, "I- I love you." Your heart hammered as you watched him still. He was still facing away from you and Remus thanked the gods for you couldn't see his teary eyes and pained expression, "I know that you love me... I know you do! Just- Just say it and it'll all be okay, Rem. Just... Just tell me that you love me." There was a pregnant pause. Remus's jaw clenched. He had to push you away, he couldn't risk letting you get hurt, "I'm not scared of you, Remus- I know that you won't hurt me. I-I trust you."

He shook his head as he swallowed hard, "I think you should leave, (y/n). We both have work to do."

You wanted to fight, you wanted to whirl him round, slap him across the face and kiss him to get the message across but your shoulders sagged as all fight drained from your body. He stayed unmoving and facing the opposite way, "I- I've always loved you. Remember when it was my fifteenth birthday and you gave me a first edition copy of my favourite Muggle book? That's when I knew. I knew how much it would've cost you and I- I knew I loved you then."

He stayed still.

"I knew you loved me when we were seventeen. It was after Sirius convinced us all to have one too many shots of Firewhisky and we went out to the Quidditch Pitch and were stupidly riding on brooms. I rode mine straight into one of the goalposts, lost my balance and fell right off of it to the ground. You were so worried about me, you ran to me with the most concerned look on your face, you wouldn't settle until you knew I was okay even though it was just a broken wrist. You were so worried. You stayed with me that night when I was in the hospital. I knew you loved me that night."

Remus took a breath, "I asked you to leave, (y/n)." His voice was tense, "We are colleagues. Nothing more."

You were crying, tears making their way down your cheeks, "You really are a coward," you murmured quietly but you knew he heard you. You left his classroom, slamming the door behind him. Goddamn Snape was right.

Remus managed to get back to his desk chair and sank into it, head in his hands, "What did I do?" Remus's mind wandered to when the two of you first met Harry for the first time, thinking about one of the many moments he was filled with some sort of hope that you could love him back.

Remus couldn't stop smiling as he watched you cradle the tiny baby, baby Harry James Potter, speaking in hushed songs and excited whispers. You looked delighted and seemed like a natural at this. James nudged Remus, breaking him out of his thoughts, "You could have that with her, you know," he murmured softly.

Remus was affronted. Eyebrows raised and arms crossed, he glowered at James, "I- I-" he was like a fish out of water, "Don't be so stupid, Prongs."

James rolled his eyes, "Come off it, Moony," he scoffed, "you love her and she loves you. She always has."

"She does not," Remus hissed. He had often stayed up late, hoping and dreaming that would be true but he knew that it couldn't. He was a monster, how could you ever love that?

"You need proof?" James asked, raising his eyebrows, "You're a werewolf... Her patronus and her Animagus is a wolf. McGonagall told us in third year that your patronus and Animagus take form from who you are and can be persuaded by those you love most. You're a werewolf, she's a wolf. She loves you, you big oaf."

That couldn't be true, could it? Remus watched you with a curious expression. You couldn't love him, could you? How on earth could you love a monster?

And now, over a decade later, you'd finally admitted it to him and Remus had done what he does best; pushed you away because he was scared. He was a coward, "God help me, Prongs," he muttered, head in his hands. He knew that if James were here he would've given him a good rollicking for his reaction to that. He was a coward and that's all he'd ever be. As Remus tossed and turned that night, one sentence that James had said echoed around his head.

"You need to tell her that you love her before it's too late."

tag list: @foodpills @fairyy27 @queen-of-disaster-222 @moon-witchs-world @poppysavage11 @wildtigerlili @lupinandtonks @eury-dice3 @qweengigi @magical-spit @jennifer0305

[okwritingandpain]

Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da: The Beatles x Reader

Chapter 8

"You're taking me out?" Paul asked as Y/N took his hand and guided him out of the club he was performing in.

"It'll be good for you." She smiled as they made their way down the sidewalk toward a small park. Paul dragged behind her with a confused expression.

"Where are you taking me?" He asked, taking glances at the random people who stared at them.

"To the park." She replied, hastily. The entrance to the park was nearly in sight. This had to work. She knew it. With her time in the past, the least she could do was help her new friends.

"The park?" Paul repeated as they came upon the entrance. The sky was warm with color and children could be heard playing in the long green grass. They went in and Y/N jumped up on top of a picnic table.

"Alright, McCartney! We're getting that song today!" Y/N declared, stomping her foot on the top of the table. Paul looked at her confused as ever.

"Song? George told you about it, huh?" Paul asked with a smile.

"Why wouldn't he?" She smirked, putting her hands on her hips.

"True," Paul replied, jumping up on the table with her. "So, what's the plan?"

She shrugged.

"Just look around and see if you find something." She suggested. Paul peered around the park. Y/N waited, impatiently.

"The problem..." Paul began, "Is that it's a love song."

"And?" She asked, not quite understanding why this would be an issue.

"I don't have anyone to share that with," Paul explained, holding his head in his hands. "The song doesn't feel genuine."

"Why not write a song about someone you made up? Like your dream date, or something like that." Y/N suggested. Paul shook his head, disappointedly.

"That's not how I see things, luv." He replied with a slight smirk. He looked into her eyes with deep agony. He was in song purgatory.

"Sorry..." She said, looking at the ground. A brightness glowed in his eye.

"Well, actually you may have just sparked something. I need to get back to the band!" Paul said suddenly as he dashed off the picnic table. Y/N stood there shocked by his sudden urgency.

"Okay! I'll be at my job or something!" She called after him. Honestly, she was frazzled by the encounter. It all had happened so quickly. Did Scott need any help this late? It wouldn't hurt to check. Y/N made her way to the music shop that stood dormant. The lights were off and she couldn't see Scott.

"Y/N?" A voice asked behind her. She spun around to see Scott with a confused look. Beside him was a dark-haired broad who looked rather displeased with her.

"Hey, Scott. I was just wondering if you needed any help with the shop. I was just bored..." Y/N explained with a shaky grin. Scott smiled while the broad gave her the sharpest glare.

"I appreciate it." Scott remarked, "I don't need any extra help right now, but the offer was reassuring. I thought you were coming to quit." He was flustered and sweating. It was as if the sun had been beaming down at him.

"Oh well, then I'll be on my way." She replied and started making her way down the block.

"Wait!" The broad shouted, "Why don't you introduce me, Scott." Face lighting up with horror, Scott sheepishly grinned.

"Uh, Shirley this is Y/N." Scott motioned towards both of them.

"A pleasure." Shirley hissed, her eyes locked on Y/N. Giving the best smile she could, she nodded at her.

"Very." She replied, trying to avoid her gaze.

"Well, it would be best if we were on our way." Scott tried to steer the girls apart.

"By the way, I thought you could come to the next Beatles performance. It will get you out of the house!" Y/N said quickly. The whole point of inviting him originally was to get him a girlfriend, but he had found one.

"Oh, cool! I'll be sure to check it out." Scott said as he and Shirley walked away. With the situation being awkward and embarrassing enough, Y/N went home to her apartment. As she walked up the stairs to her home, she thought of what Paul was doing. She mostly just wanted a distraction before the embarrassing moment would come flooding back into her mind. Reaching her apartment, she noticed the door was unlocked. She had locked it, hadn't she? Y/N slowly cracked the door open, who knows who was in there? Then she heard a loud bang! The sound of the harmonic rang through the walls. Wait...this was...

"Love, love me do You know I love you I'll always be true"

It had worked! Somehow she had gotten the song into Paul's head. He must have rushed back to try and put it together with John and the other lads. Even with all of the charm of these performers, she couldn't help but wonder...HOW IN THE WORLD THEY GOT INTO HER APARTMENT?! Being the polite guest she was, she let them finish.

"What in the world are you doing in my apartment!?" Y/N asked, charmed, but still nervous by their entry.

"We came here to play you a song, Luv," Paul remarked cheerfully. A childish smile was spread across his face. John was blowing into his harmonic while George played a guitar rift alongside him.

"How did you get in?" She asked.

John stopped blowing into his harmonica.

"Ringo was a pretty good lock picker back in the day," John exclaimed with a chuckle. The band laughed at his explanation. It made her smile, even if it was a crime. (That night she rethought the remark, nevertheless).

"Who knew that Paul would come up with this song just by seeing you stand on a table!" George laughed. Paul turned bright red.

"George!" He hissed, but the band laughed immensely. She snickered a bit too. The others began to pack up their things. Paul walked over to Y/N. "Would you want to go to a dance with me?" He asked, a glowing smile.

"You know I would."

"WHAT IS ALL THAT RACKET????" A voice called from down the hall.

"Good job guys."

[thebeatles-world]

A Different Path

Summary: It’s 2023. Y/N and her boyfriend get into an argument and y/n wishes that she got to go back in time and meet the Beatles…And her wish comes true.

You and your boyfriend got into an argument. You both been getting frustrated with each other for the past few days and you knew that it wasn’t going to work out no matter how much he loved you. You were ready to either break up with him or either take a break from the relationship.

“Whatever. I’ll give you some space.” Your boyfriend scolded, getting his phone and jacket from your bed.

“I don’t bloody care what you do.” You said as you rolled your eyes at him in frustration.

“You are not even British anyways so stop acting like you are British.” Your boyfriend said in an annoyed voice.

“Just get out!” You pointed at your door as you breathed in frustration.

“You listen way too much to the Beatles I swear.” Your boyfriend said before slamming your door.

“I don’t care what you think.” You screamed but it was too late. He already left your room.

With a groan, you slammed your drawers shut.

“Oh, I wish… I wish I went back in time and met the Beatles.” You said out loud.

You looked at your Beatles poster in sadness.

“Why… oh why… must I been born in the wrong generation.” You said softly.

You had tons of the Beatles songs on your Spotify playlist. You had thousands of photos saved of the Beatles from your gallery on your phone.

“Boys in this generation aren’t even that cute.” You said disgustedly.

You sighed as you looked at the Beatles poster on your wall once again.

They were sitting down together while smiling in black and white.

“Oh, how I wish I went back in time and met the Beatles.” You said hopefully as you closed your eyes.

Suddenly you felt dizzy. You felt as if everything in the room was spinning around you.

What’s happening?” You said in confusion as you could barely see due to the dizziness around you.

You lay down on your bed and tried not to get nauseous from the dizziness.

You closed your eyes and all you remembered is blacking out from the dizziness.

…

You felt yourself lying down on cold pavement ground. You slowly opened your eyes and noticed that you weren’t in your room anymore. You were lying down on a sidewalk and in a strange place.

“Where am I? What’s going on?.” You exclaimed in fear as you looked around you. This wasn’t your room or the town you lived in. This was a different place and a different kind of town that you didn’t recognize.

“Oh my, are you okay?” A male voice said behind you.

Before you could speak, you turned around to see who was speaking to you and you were in shock when you saw who it was.

It was George Harrison.

You felt too stunned to speak.

“I..I..” you managed to say but you couldn’t find the right words to say.

“Did you bump your head, love? You look pale.” George asked you as he put his hand on your forehead.

You felt your face turn bright red.

“Oh my gosh, I can’t believe he’s touching my forehead right now. I can’t believe he’s here in person.” You thought.

You tried your best not to fangirl in front of him. Even though you wanted to scream in excitement because George Harrison was here in person. Right in front of you.

You just nodded as you stared at him.

“I know who you are. You are George Harrison… From The Beatles.” You said weakly as you continued to stare at him.

“That’s right love.” He chucked.

“Where are your parents? I’m sure we can call them. There’s a pay phone not too far away or I can take you to your house?” George said.

You quickly panicked and tried to think fast of a way to make up a lie.

How crazy would it sound to tell George that you made a wish to meet the Beatles and it came true?

Well, you met one of them. Besides you honestly had a crush on all the Beatles and couldn’t decide which one was your favorite.

“I uh don’t have any parents. I’m an orphan here? I.. um… unfortunately my parents abandoned me here and went back to America.” You tried your best to make sure your lie made sense.

“Oh no love. That’s terrible. I’m so sorry.” George sadly said, feeling sorry for you.

You nodded sadly even though you were pretending to give a sob story to make George feel sorry for you.

“I’m all alone here. I know nothing about living here in England.” You continue to say, acting dramatic.

“Don’t worry darling, how about you come with me? So that’s why you won’t be alone here. I would hate for some creep to snatch you away. What do you say?” George offers you his hand to help you off the ground.

Your face turned bright red.

Oh my gosh… was this happening??

“Why yes of course.” You took George’s hand as he helped you off the ground.

[pancakes4two]

ANYWHERE WITH YOU - THREE

NAVIGATION | MASTERLIST | TALK TO ME

⭐️ NEXT CHAPTER ⭐️

wc: ~2.3k

warnings: none! but strap yourself in because things will start getting angsty sooooooon

preview: You swallow, wondering if it’s right for you to feel sick at those articles. If it even makes sense for you to get angry at these tabloids for speculating about your best friend’s relationship. It feels like it should, when he’s sitting at your dining room table, laying his most vulnerable thoughts out onto notebook pages in front of you. When he comes home to you every evening, takes over your kitchen and leaves it messy after he’s made dinner. 

When he’s the last person you say goodnight to before falling asleep.

✽ ✽ ✽

Ironically enough, the first hobby that you and Harry genuinely end up enjoying together is singing. It starts when Harry gets a karaoke machine for his tenth birthday from Gemma, who’d saved up from her first job to buy it, hoping that it might free her from having to deal with him obnoxiously singing in the car or while showering. Her logic was that if he spent enough time singing alone in his room, it’d wear down his voice enough that he’d be silent once he was in her presence. Prior to that, the two of you had tried to get into everything—football, ice skating, art, you name it—but nothing had really stuck. Your days on the neighbourhood football league ended after Harry took a ball straight to the face, though your hearts weren’t in the sport long before his injury. You were much better at the game than Harry, who would constantly trip over his own legs like Bambi, so you found that you couldn’t quite enjoy a hobby that seemed to bring your best friend so much grief. The same happened with ice-skating, except the other way around: Harry quickly grew tired of it after you failed to advance past the basic level of your local rink’s skating program. He’d remarked that skating was no fun if the two of you couldn’t do it together; there was no point in him gliding across the ice if you weren’t right there beside him. Art, however, you gave up for a simpler reason: both of you couldn’t resist spending the whole of your art lessons drawing ugly caricatures of each other, and at some point the badly-drawn portraits had crossed a line and become an outlet for you to insult each other. Your mums had to put a stop to it, for the sake of your friendship.

But singing was different. You had always been a relatively shy kid, but Harry was boisterous from the day he first met you, and you’d always known him to be musically-inclined. In the three years since you first met, you can recall countless times you’d joined their family on weekend trips or even just drives into the city. Any time you were in a car with Harry, he’d always be singing along to the radio: which, more often than not, was blasting an old Beatles record, or playing Shania Twain on loop. Harry always sang the loudest in your school’s choir class, and he did an insanely good Elvis impression. You could tell he loved music—you saw it in the way his eyes would always light up when Robin would put a new tape in the car, the way his tiny hands would slap the leather seats, chasing the rhythm of every song that came through the speakers. It was really a no-brainer that singing ended up being the hobby for the two of you. You were more than happy to accompany Harry as he explored something that brought him so much joy, and you know he would’ve done the same for you. 

In fact, Harry had told you years later that he’d been so excited to show the karaoke machine to you, he had a foot out the door and was racing to your house before he’d even had a chance to finish unwrapping it. You weren’t surprised at that—at ten years old, the two of you had become practically inseparable. Your families and teachers loved to joke about how you and Harry were a package deal, rarely found apart from one another. You were attached at the hip: you spent so much time together that people genuinely found it weird when one of you was found without the other. You remember your mum telling you that she’d found you playing in the backyard by yourself once, and seeing you without your best friend threw her off so much she had to call your dad over and make sure she wasn’t hallucinating. It turned out she wasn't—Harry had just been away at a doctor’s appointment that afternoon. Primary school passes by just like that: the two of you spending every minute you possibly could together, hauling the karaoke machine back-and-forth between your houses, duetting The Girl of My Best Friend every night until your throats started to hurt and your parents complained of migraines. 

It was you and him against the world.

✽ ✽ ✽

You wake up on Saturday morning to Harry belly-flopping onto your bed, coffee and phone in hand as he aggressively startles you awake. You rub the sleep out of your eyes, squinting at Harry’s figure as he shifts onto his side, propping his head up with his hand and smiling at you mischievously. 

“Did you forget that you have a bed of your own in the other room?” You say groggily, reaching over Harry. You feel blindly for your phone on your bedside table, unplugging it from its charger cord. You tap the screen to check the time: it’s 7:20 AM. On a Saturday. And for some godforsaken reason, you’re awake because of Harry.

“I know, but I have a radio interview in five minutes,” Harry says casually, taking a sip out of his mug. You tell him that if he gets even a drop onto your bed, he’s buying you new sheets. “And I wanna do it here. With you.”

“Why?” You groan, “I was sleeping so peacefully until you barged in here.”

“Aww, were you dreaming of me?” Harry coos, tapping the tip of your nose. You grab his wrist and shove his hand away. “I haven’t done one of these interviews in a while. I need your moral support.”

“You really expect me to believe that? You’ve been in this industry for a decade and you need my moral support for a 5-minute–” you begin to say, before Harry cuts you off.

“Whoops, too late, they’re calling now,” He smiles, accepting the call on his phone and placing it on speaker. You roll your eyes and disappear under the covers, bringing your hand out from below the sheets just to give him the finger.

You’re met with an insanely loud, radio-presenter voice. “Good morning, Harry! I’m Pete from SiriusXM. It’s so great of you to join us here this morning, you’re on the air right now so feel free to say hi!”

Harry clears his throat. “Hi everyone, good morning. Glad to join you via phone call.”

You emerge from your covers just to shove him in the chest, letting him know how corny his response was. Harry turns to you and mouths a silent What? before Pete is interrupting again with a question. You’re about to get annoyed at him for getting in the way of your banter with Harry, before you realize he’s literally just doing his job.

“So, tell us how you’ve been, man. You’ve been on break for a bit, coming off of a huge U.S. tour.”

“I’ve been good, yeah, thanks for asking. Getting some much-needed rest, spending time with family. The tour was amazing, but I’m glad I can slow down now and spend time with people I love.” He looks at you during that last statement, his expression unreadable even to you.

“So happy to hear that. Speaking of tour, I wanted to ask, how was that for ya? Your last record was so successful, I imagine getting to tour that was a whole new experience. I’ve seen so many videos online of you performing, and it seems like everyone in the arena knows every single word to your songs. That must be an amazing feeling, getting to hear so many people sing along to your writing.”

“Definitely,” Harry agrees, “I think I’m very lucky to have fans who are so emotionally generous like that. They’re never afraid to sing their hearts out, and I’m happy I’ve curated a space where they feel free enough to do that. And the same goes for me too, I feel so loved whenever I’m up on the stage, and I have the fans to thank for that.”

“What a beautiful compliment,” Pete says, and Harry laughs into his phone. He kicks at your feet when you start to silently mock his laugh.

“I gotta ask, too, we saw a bunch of clips of your family coming to join you on tour. What’s that like? Looking out at this crowd of 20,000 people and seeing the people who raised you standing among them?”

“Hmm, good question, Pete,” Harry says, wagging his finger at his phone as if his voice wasn’t the only thing being recorded. “Obviously, I’m incredibly grateful that my family and those around me have always supported me in whatever it is I do. I’m not sure how to describe how seeing them in the audience makes me feel, that’s a hard one. Although, I will tell you I do get more nervous seeing them there—I’m quite clumsy on stage, so if I know my sister or Y-”

He starts to say your name, and then catches himself. “If I know my sister or mum are going to be at a show, I’ll be extra careful not to trip over my own feet. Otherwise I’ll never hear the end of it from them.”

That conjures a particularly fond memory in your head of an old One Direction show that you’d attended in Manchester. Harry had gotten too excited on stage, probably trying to show off in front of the massive group of old secondary school friends he’d invited to the show that night, and tripped over a microphone cord as a result. He was unable to catch himself before he went down, making a spectacular fall on stage that was looped endlessly on Vine and gif’d to death on Twitter. If you remember correctly, James Corden had also teased him for it on an episode of the Late Late Show. By the looks of it, Harry’s thinking about this moment too. You can tell by the way he glared at you when he said: I’ll never hear the end of it from them. That statement was pointed, directed towards you for certain. You’d teased him relentlessly after he fell at that One Direction gig, printing out tiny pictures of the fall and passing them out to all his relatives for them to keep in their wallets. You and Gemma still bring it up every birthday. He’ll probably never live it down.

“That’s hilarious. Listen, before I let you go, we have to know. Will we be hearing any new music from you soon?”

“You’re trying to get me to spill the inside scoop!” Harry jokes, “Maybe. I can’t promise a date, but I have been writing recently.”

“Have you, though?” You say out loud, forgetting momentarily that Harry was still on-air. You slap a hand over your mouth when you realize what you just did, Harry staring at you with wide eyes. 

Pete, bless his heart, like the professional he is, moves on and does not acknowledge your voice at all. “Well, all the best with your writing. I think I can speak on behalf of everyone when I say we’re all eagerly waiting for your next album.”

“I appreciate that,” Harry says, recovering from your slip-up quickly, “Thanks for the chat. Hope we’ll get to speak again soon.”

“For sure, for sure. Talk to you soon, man.”

The line disconnects them, and you bury your face into your hands, groaning loudly. “Oh my God. I don’t know why I did that. I’m so sorry.”

“What?” Harry says, gently prying your hands away from your face, “Don’t apologize. You have nothing to apologize for. It was a simple mistake. I’m not mad. Plus, my phone might’ve not picked up on it. Pete didn’t say anything about it.”

“He was just being professional,” you sigh, thankful for Harry’s calm demeanor. “Ugh. At least it wasn’t on video. I can’t believe I slipped up like that.”

“It’s fine, really, Y/N. Come on, let me make you some toast,” Harry assures you, rubbing circles on your back. He gets up from your bed, walks over to your side and offers you a hand to help you up. A faraway thought tells you that best friends probably don’t do this: take work calls in each others’ beds and then get up for breakfast like everything is normal.

True to his word, Harry ends up making you breakfast. He presents it to you while you’re sitting on one of your kitchen stools, ruminating on your dumb mistake. It’s french toast, but he’s cut up slices of strawberry and arranged them into a smiley face because he knows you were upset about what happened on the radio. He knows you infuriatingly well.

A news article pops up on your Instagram feed the next day, the headline: Moved In Together? Female Voice In Harry Styles Interview, Fans Speculate It’s Camille Rowe. Because, right, you forgot Harry’d been dating that model recently. You swipe away from Instagram, closing the app, and look at Harry. He’s sitting at your dining table, mouth scrunched up as he taps a pen against his head, thinking of lyrics to write down in his notebook. It’s late afternoon, the sun’s coming in from every window in your apartment, light spilling all over everything in the room. It paints his lashes golden and brushes over his skin. A notification sounds from your phone, then: From People Magazine, it reads, It’s Getting Serious: We’re Convinced Harry Styles & Camille Rowe Are Living Together. You swallow, wondering if it’s right for you to feel sick at those articles. If it even makes sense for you to get angry at these tabloids for speculating about your best friend’s relationship. It feels like it should, when he’s sitting at your dining room table, laying his most vulnerable thoughts out onto notebook pages in front of you. When he comes home to you every evening, takes over your kitchen and leaves it messy after he’s made dinner.

When he’s the last person you say goodnight to before falling asleep.

✽ ✽ ✽

a/n: up to chapter three! hope you all have been enjoying so far. as always please please let me know what you think! i love hearing feedback!

might be a lil bit before chapter four, i have a busy week ahead but i promise it will be out ASAP!

taglist (message me to be added!): @daydreamingofmatilda @onceuponahuntersrealm @tenaciousperfectionunknown @grapejuice-rry @b-reads-things

[harrison-abbott]

About eleven years back I lived in student halls. And I developed a crush on one of the girls who was living with me. Back then I was always writing songs. So one time I said to her something like, “I’ll write a song for you if you like?” And she said, “Aw, that’s nice. Yes please.”

So, umm, I wrote this song. I lived with her for about two months and then I went home early in December, back to my home town I mean. I hadn’t yet told her that I had feelings for her. So I thought that I’d send this to her as a way of hinting I was interested.

On Christmas Day, I sent her the track. She saw the message, and never replied. And so I took this as massive rejection and felt totally stupid for sending it along.

When I moved back up to the halls in January, I was too embarrassed to even look at her. And I just didn’t have much to say to her after that. It was my own stupidity for sending the song. And I suppose I was cross that she never replied to it, but, the most likely thing was that she just wasn’t interested in me. Meh. It happens. Lots of people experience such a thing. When you fancy an individual but they don’t you.

Besides, back in 2013/14, I remember being immature and rash, and I drank way too much. In short, I was a bit of an arse. So I don’t blame her for not being intrigued.

Anyway! The main point is that it’s still an okay song. I just see it as a work of art on its own. It’s there for anybody to listen to.

There are many love songs written about certain people, where the songwriter won’t be with that particular person all their life. Think of all the Beatles songs. Etc etc. So, in conclusion, I don’t regret writing this song at all. It’s a piece of music. Amen.

[gummybugg]

hello! i really like character making and character design :]

i'm wondering if there's anything in particular that inspires you. and who/what jumpstarted you into creating your own characters and stories

-🌈

(This one's gonna be a bit all over the place, sorry about that I got a bit excited)

So hi! I really love character creation, it's one of my favorite things to do :')

i'm wondering if there's anything in particular that inspires you

Music like the Beatles, ELO, Queen, Will Wood, indie, punk rock, and really whatever I get when I hit an interesting recommendation (I'm eclectic)

Video games: Persona series, Fallout, Hypnospace Outlaw, Undertale, Sally Face, umm also indie horror games are generally where it's at for me

Jojo's bizarre adventure, one punch man, neon genesis

I was a theater kid at some point and am inspired by Chicago, Cabaret, Cats, Rock of Ages, and Rocky Horror for their wackiness/vibes

Webtoons/comics: Paperteeth!, After Dark, I'm the Grim Reaper, Lovebot, Space Boy, Solid State, The Prince of Southland, Yuna and Kawachan, Electric Bones...

Besides media, I am inspired by people I interact with (which can help me build character relationships) and qualities I pull from the inside. Also, I have had a strong interest in psychology for a long time, so my stories are very character-centered. I also like throwing in a funny edge to most things I create because I don't like being serious 100% of the time. I like to experiment with irony a lot, as you do.

I'm inspired by ideas I wish people talked more about, what'd I liked to have seen as a child, untraditionally beautiful characters, wacky characters, and characters flaunting who they are because they're proud to be themselves. I love unfixable characters who learn to find worth, characters who are overly complex, characters who fall from grace, blah blah blah. Or sometimes I just write characters for fun and with no real motive, who gain a purpose later on by chance. But not all stories need lessons or purposes or morals or whatever. Some things are more fun when they're just existing because they can. I feel like my wip Crater City is like somewhere in between having a purpose and having none at all.

Other things that help inspire oc: drawing them with random art generators, scrapbooking their very own page, filling out oc interviews, participating in writeblr events/games, spending a whole day listening to their playlist, forcing myself to write one scene with them in it, pinterest-ing, creating a blog/journal/site about them, etc.

who/what jumpstarted you into creating your own characters and stories

I started writing as a small child and would create illustrated "stories" based on real events that happened in my life but lowkey exaggerate them because I was like 6, hehe. Or play with barbies or legos or whatever and that's its own thing right there. Then I moved on to big boy things like writing in notebooks about girls with horribly made up names that mysteriously resembled Disney princesses' names because I'm bad at naming things (see: my webkinz pet named "the blue whale").

I'm not sure what jumpstarted character creation for me, I guess it was always this ✨️💕thing inside me all along 💕✨️. I think it was because I was a quiet child and kept to myself, which meant a few friends and a lot of introspection at a young age. But I was/am inspired by things all around me. Things that make me feel nostalgic, bittersweet, or whatever other emotion that's hard for me to explain because emotions are weird for me.

As a child, I created ocs based on who I wanted to be more like. Ex: an outgoing hero with bold hair, a strong anti-hero with a bit of edge, an adventurous hero who easily befriends others, etc, etc.

As a teen, I created ocs fueled by spite ("I can make better ocs than half of you seasoned authors even if I'm just a kid") and also my knowledge of the dsm-5. I think I was inspired most by my trauma, so yeah, that'll do it to you. I still dig deep down for some inspo from my Deep Dark Past™, which has helped me understand myself and ocs better, who would have guessed? But this doesn't exempt me from research.

As an adult I am motivated to write because of the impending doom that we all die some day so I better wrap it up before something happens to me and I lose my ability to write by some chance I'm out of college and I have my whole life ahead of me and have no more boring essays tying me down :'DD

[conniescove444]

FROM THE FIRES

Chapter 5: I Looked Away

Pairing: Sam Kiszka × female!oc

Word Count (this chapter): 3469

Summary: Lana moved to the States a few months ago and has found herself in a small town in Michigan called Frankenmuth. After visiting a local bar on her first night, she begins talking to the bassist of the band that played and by the end of the night she's moved her things into his apartment. This was the last thing she was expecting to happen... but hey, what could go wrong?

(This story is set in 1971 rather than modern day so I've had to play around with some of the bands' story. I've been playing around with this concept for a while and thought it may be interesting considering their vibe is straight out of that era.)

WARNINGS: alcohol use, heavy drug use, tobacco use, sexual content (due to the themes this fic is 18+, please DNI if you are a minor- you will be blocked.)

The sound of the Beatles' Srgt Peppers album filled the living room and Lana was looking through the fridge to pull out a few beers. The song 'A Day in the Life' was playing and Sam was sat on the sofa listening, "This song changed my life you know."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lana looked back from the fridge, placing the beers onto the counter, "How come?"

"Showed me that there weren't any rules in music. It wasn't like anything I'd ever heard before."

She smiled softly at him, "The Beatles were who made me fall in love with music."

Sam was about to respond when the phone began to ring, "I got it." Lana said as she moved over to it, picking up the receiver.

"Hello."

"Hey Lana, it's Jake... Lori's had something come up with her parents today so she's not gonna come with us to the beach but if you still want to go then I'd be happy to take you."

"Oh okay... yeah that's fine. I really wanna get some fresh air."

"I'll be outside in 20 minutes then."

"Alright, see ya in a bit."

She put the receiver back down and Sam stood up, walking over to her.

"Who was that?" he leant on the wall next to the phone.

"Jake, Lori's not coming now but we still want to go if that's okay with you."

He nodded, staring at the phone intently "I'm gonna take a shower, I'll see you when you're home."

She watched him as he walked away, "Alright."

Something about his reaction was a little off but she knew he was still hung up on the recording sessions so she put it down to that. She got changed into a pair of bell bottom jeans and a white wrap top, adding her Afghan coat over everything. She then finished getting her things together and went outside to wait for Jake.

The drive wasn't too long and the pair had mostly talked about the different songs on the radio during the drive- they had the most similar taste in music out of everyone in the group.

They'd spent most of the day just sitting by the shore, it was too cold to do anything like swimming or getting ice cream but since it was still the off season it meant it was fairly quiet. They'd shared a blunt at one point and had got to talking about the band.

"Sam seems really stressed about the whole album thing. Is he usually like that?" Lana was sat back, leaning on her hands in the sand.

"He's just got a short fuse, nothing we haven't seen from him before."

She stared down at the sand and then out towards the water, "He was telling me about not feeling like his work was good enough."

Jake sighed softly, "I mean I think he just feels a bit overshadowed. I was the one who got the band started and Josh is obviously our front man so he just wants to find his place in things."

Lana watched as the waves moved back and forth, staying silent for a moment before responding, "I wish he wouldn't put so much pressure on himself. He's so good at what he does, he just can't seem to see it."

"All musicians are like that, he just lets it get to him too much."

"Yeah I suppose so. I don’t like seeing him so miserable though." she traced shapes in the sand beside her as she was speaking.

"Well you were great yesterday. With helping us of course but also with Sam at the start. If any of us had gone in there to ask him to get out of his own world he would have snapped. I think he just feels seen by you."

"You think so?" Lana felt herself blushing a little at the last part.

"Yeah definitely. I was a bit unsure when you guys first moved in together but he needed someone like you."

"Why's that?" She turned her head away from the water they'd both been looking out to in order to face him and he did the same.

"I don't know... I always felt that maybe he was a bit jealous over the fact that Danny has Mary-Jane and I have Lori... Josh is different because he's perfectly happy floating from person to person but Sam was never content doing that."

"It's not like he's never gotten any attention though, he always has girls pining over him and he goes home with them all the time. Surely he's had long term flings or girlfriends before."

"Yeah but it's not about that. I can't speak for you guys but with me and Lori, we can sleep with as many other people as we want but there's never that same connection as what we have with each other. Knowing there's that one person who knows every inch of you and always comes back to you, understands you... no matter what. Having that kind of connection with someone is something that I think most people need but don't always find."

Lana just turned back to the ocean and nodded. She understood what he was saying perfectly.

"I'm glad I found you guys. If I had chosen any other bar that night I'd probably be somewhere else across the country by now." she smiled at the thought.

Jake turned back to look at the water too, "Why were you travelling so much? I mean I get that you wanted to explore but why hadn't you stopped yet before you came here?"

Lana looked down at her feet, her boots covered in sand, "I'm not sure. I guess I was trying to find myself but I didn't really know how. I've never really felt at home with the people I've spent my life surrounding myself with until now."

Jake put his arm around her and pulled her closer. She leaned into him and rested her head into his side.

"I think you've found your home now." He said quietly, rubbing her arm with his hand.

They made the trek back up the beach towards Jake's car and just listened to the music on the way home. They spoke briefly about her time in London but besides that it was mostly comfortable silence. In her time in Frankenmuth so far, Jake had become like an older brother to her. She had no siblings of her own but he was someone she just felt comfortable opening up to around and he was happy to be there for her.

When he dropped her home she came into the apartment to see Sam sat on the sofa plucking at his bass.

"Hi Sammy." she went and took a seat next to him, brushing some hair behind his shoulder to place a kiss on his cheek.

"How was your day?" he put his bass down next to him and turned to face her.

"It was good... maybe a bit cold for the beach though."

He pulled her face closer towards him and placed short a kiss on her lips.

She then pulled away and looked at the phone, "I need to call my parents, I haven't spoken to them since Kansas."

He sighed quietly, "That's seriously what you're thinking about right now?" he looked a rather put out.

"Sorry, it's been on my mind."

"No don't worry about it." he leant back and tilted his head, looking up at the ceiling.

Lana got off the sofa and walked over to the phone, picking it up and dialling the number.

It rung for a few seconds before someone on the other end answered.

"Hi Mum it's me,

... yeah I'm fine, just wanted to let you know I've moved in somewhere for a while.

... I got a job so I can cover the rent,

... no my friend Sam lives here, it's his apartment, I just moved in with him.

... we're just friends."

They spoke for a little while longer and she gave her Mum her new number. She then spoke to her Dad who asked if he could speak to Sam.

She moved the receiver down away from her face and covered it with her hand, "Sam would you mind talking to my Dad? I think he just wants to check you're not a creep."

He looked over at her, "Yeah sure," he stood up and walked over, taking the phone from her.

"Samuel speaking.

... I promise I'll take care of her.

... no, she's no trouble..."

The two spoke very briefly before he handed the phone back to her. While she finished up her conversation he went to the kitchen cupboard to grab a glass before filling it with water.

"Okay, speak to you soon.

... love you too,

... bye."

She put the receiver back down and then leant back on the wall, sighing softly.

Sam took a sip of his water and then looked at her, "Connie."

Hearing the name startled her slightly and she just looked at him with wide eyes, "huh?"

"Don't play dumb. It's what your Dad called you. When were you gonna tell me?" he sounded quite hurt.

She just exhaled deeply and looked down at her feet. "Look I was gonna say something if it came up or if I needed to but it's not a name use anymore."

"Lana you live with me. You should have told me when you moved in." he put the glass down on the side and crossed his arms, leaning back on the counter- the frustration was obvious in his voice.

"I used to hang around groupies Sam, we all change our names and even if I'm not anymore, it still stuck. I didn't see a need to tell you yet."

He stood up off the counter, "It doesn't matter! I need to be able to trust you, if you're not gonna tell me something as simple as your name then how can I?"

"I don't understand why you're so upset? It's not really my name anymore. I don't use it. It's not like you're the only person I've ever met who's never known me as Connie."

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, turning his head away from her, "Wow."

"God it really isn't that big of a deal." she stood up straight and crossed her arms, raising her voice slightly.

He looked at her again, "It is though. I'll take a bet that Turner isn't your last name either."

"...no. It's Smith. Constance Smith."

He didn't respond, he simply walked back over to the sofa and picked up his bass again, messing around with the tuners.

She walked a bit closer to where he was sitting but made sure to keep a decent amount of distance, "What so are you just gonna not talk to me now?"

He didn't respond nor look up from what he was doing.

"Look Sam I'm sorry. I really don't see why you're so upset though." she lowered her voice again and walked closer to him.

He just pretended as though she wasn't there and it was really starting to agitate her. She could understand him being a little hurt by it but this felt like much more of an overreaction.

"You're being so ridiculous right now."

"Oh I'm being ridiculous? What the actual fuck? You've been fucking lying to me this entire time." he moved his bass and raised his voice a little bit.

"Stop it." she had intended for her words to come out a bit more confidently than they had. In all honesty she was trying not to break down crying.

"No. This is such bull shit." with that he stood up and walked into his room, slamming the door behind him.

Lana just stood there paralysed. Why was he this mad about something like that? She'd never ever gotten such a big reaction over someone finding out her name. It wasn't an uncommon thing to change your name, not in the scene that she was in at least. It was mostly done for privacy and safety but for her it was a persona she could hide behind. She felt very vulnerable having people know who she really was and Sam had just made it a hundred times worse.

The only thing she could think to do was go somewhere else, she didn't want to be around him and he clearly didn't want to be around her.

She grabbed her bag from where she'd left it on the counter and got her coat back off the rack before exiting the apartment, slamming the door shut behind her so Sam would know she'd left. She walked a couple of streets until she was at Lori's place and knocked on the door hastily. "Hey hun," Lori had a smile on her face but when she noticed something was off her look quickly turned to concern, "is everything alright?"

Lana just shook her head and Lori took her hand, leading her into her bedroom. The twins were sat on the sofa in the living room but they didn't pay much attention to what was happening, too engrossed in their own conversation. Lana sat on the bed and once Lori had closed the door and sat beside her, she just began to break down. Lori moved closer and wrapped her arms around her, holding her tightly, "hey, hey, it's okay. You wanna talk about it?" she spoke softly and rather quietly.

Lana just shook her head and let her friend hold her. She felt like she was choking on guilt even though she wasn't sure if she should feel guilty. Looking back on the situation, she'd wished she'd just have told him the day she moved in, but it was a different time. It was the 70s. It wasn’t uncommon to not use your real name... Lana was no different. Especially where she came from, people put up barriers and at that point she didn't feel that there was any need to tell him yet. She still however felt like she’d made a huge mistake. It clearly bothered Sam and she wasn't intentionally trying to hurt him, she was just protecting herself.

They stayed in the room together for a few minutes until Lana had calmed down. She was curled up on the bed, holding a pillow close to her chest, Lori stroking her arm.

"I'm gonna go back out to the boys, you can join us whenever you're ready, alright?" Lori stroked her hair and Lana nodded, motioning it was okay for her leave the room.

After a while she'd pulled herself together enough to want to go and join everyone else and she walked back into the living room to see them all in a conversation.

She stood by the doorway, fiddling with her hands, "I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to intrude on anything."

"No you're fine, it's always nice having you around." Josh smiled at her and then patted the seat next to him. Lana walked over and sat down, curling her legs up to her chest.

Lori was sat with her legs over Jake's lap and he was resting an arm around her knees.

"Me and Jake were gonna go see a movie but you guys are more than welcome to stay here if you want to." Lori said, swinging her legs round so they were back on the ground.

"Thanks." Lana said quietly. Josh simply nodded then looked towards the girl beside him a bit concerned, he could see something was up. Her eyes were raw and puffy and her body language was so different to usual.

Once Lori and Jake had left he moved to sit crossed legged on the sofa, facing her, "You okay in there?" he cocked his head to the side as he looked at her.

Lana turned to look at him and rested her head on her knees, "Not really... could I talk to you about it?"

"Of course you can." he gave her a reassuring smile.

Lana sighed before thinking carefully about her choice of words, "I was on the phone to my parents earlier and my Dad spoke to Sam at one point... now please don't read into this, you know I’ve had a bit of an unusual few years."

Josh nodded.

"Lana isn't my actual name. I hadn't told Sam that yet. I haven't told anyone that yet because I don't go by my old name. I haven't done for years. I changed it back in London like most of the girls I hung around with did but I never stopped using it because I liked being able to hide behind it I suppose... When my Dad spoke to Sam he used my real name and after we'd hung up he got pretty angry about it for some reason. Like weirdly angry. I can understand him feeling a bit hurt since we live together but never in a million years did I expect the reaction I got. I promise I was gonna tell him at some point... I was. It just didn't feel like the right time yet I dunno." she buried her face into her knees.

He reached his arm over to stroke hers, trying to comfort the girl, "Look, I personally don't give a shit what you wanna go by, at the end of the day it's just how we refer to you but not everyone feels like that."

She looked back up at him, her eyes moments away from releasing another wave of tears, "I know but I've never seen him get like that. It really worried me Josh."

Josh just looked at her apologetically, not really sure what to say.

"Am I overacting? Am I in the wrong here for being upset? I was the one who fucked up." she moved her legs to sit crossed legged, mirroring the way Josh was sitting.

Josh took her hands in his, trying to reassure her, "No. You just have different opinions on the topic and that's okay... what did he say about it?"

She sighed, "Just that I had been lying to him the whole time and that he can't trust me and stuff."

Josh stayed silent for a moment, clearly thinking about how to phrase things, "I think he's upset about something else. That was just the catalyst for him, I can't see why he'd be so angry over that. He may feel a bit upset by you not telling him but that seems a bit extreme."

Lana just looked at him, a bit confused. "What would he be upset about? Is it something I've done?"

Josh rubbed his thumb over her knuckles, "I don't know if I'm right but I think you going out with Jake today."

She was a bit taken aback by his suggestion, "... what? why?"

"I don't want to make assumptions but he was really off with Jake in the studio yesterday. I figured it was probably about that."

Lana just looked down at her lap, "Why would he be upset about that?"

"You have to talk to him Lana, I don't want to say anything that may not be true. Plus, it's your issue. You gotta fix it between yourselves."

She looked back up at him again with a shy smile, "Yeah you're right. Thank you Josh."

He just smiled and pulled her in for a hug, he knew his brother and he was getting to know her too... this was something only they could fix but he was happy to help if he could.

When Lori and Jake got back, the twins left to go to their apartment but Lana stayed over that night. She didn't want to go home yet because the idea of talking to Sam was making her stomach churn. She didn't sleep much, she was just trying to go over what she was gonna say in her head but it wasn't really getting her anywhere. She just tried her best to push through, waiting for the next morning to arrive.

[9ofspades]

As true as this is, I feel like it’s helpful for those with OCD (and other disorders with similar effects) to provide some ways of thinking that are more helpful. You can’t always just decide to forget about or not care about something when you have OCD; that’s a horrible part of the disorder. So here are some points:

Why on earth would people say that romance novels aren’t “books”? What, exactly, is a possible definition of a “book” that can include everything else we normally deem “books” but excludes romance? I had a discussion with a friend a few years back in which we decided that you can construct a perfectly valid definition of “book” that includes subway graffiti. Your romances are books. Period.

The only definition of “romance” is that a romantic love story has to be the primary focus/plot and that it has to end happily. Is it impossible to have “highbrow literature” that meets both of those criteria? By that definition, both Pride and Prejudice and Jane Eyre are romance. So is Much Ado About Nothing. Are they somehow no longer works of classical literature because of it?

People have pointed out that romance as a genre offers a great deal of opportunity for character work, developing and learning about people and how they interact and live with each other and form bonds. That’s one thing the genre does uniquely well. Through reading it, you are learning about people.

This criticism is basically always leveled at things that are popular with women, whether it’s primarily created/worked/done by women, or primarily consumed by women. The Beatles were trash when girls liked them, until mentrification happened and they became known as iconic. Star Trek was girly trash until men discovered its appeal, upon which it became the pinnacle of science fiction. Thrillers as a genre are just as potentially formulaic and trashy as romance. But you don’t see people insisting they’re “not real books”. And that’s because men like to read them.

Silly gay romance can absolutely be highbrow literature, but also who wants to read highbrow literature in their spare time anyway? I mean, besides Dracula; that gets a pass. Point is, if you’re having fun, that’s great; you have no obligation to do things that are unpleasant to you just because it’s more “highbrow” or because society thinks it’s more intelligent or whatever the rationale is.

I really hope anon gets to feel better about this, and also that anyone else who gets these kinds of thoughts can put them to rest somehow. Also, I’d appreciate any kind of advice about dealing with the obsessions and intrusive thoughts in OCD.

idk maybe a weird ask but any advice on how to enjoy romance books without being bummed out by discourse? i know they aren’t the pinnacle of literature or anything, but the recent stuff people have been saying about romance not counting as books has been kind of discouraging. have no idea why i’m asking this, i just wanna read my silly gay romance in peace without feeling guilty i’m not reading Super High Brow Literature. currently my main method is reading out of sheer spite, but any other advise is helpful. it’s not even just online, i get this irl too.

hey man in the most respectful way possible. who gives a shit. reading is for fun and guilt is for catholics. do whatever you want forever.

[freewayinsurance]

The Best Rock Songs About Cars

Americans and their automobiles: It’s been a love story since cars became a ubiquitous feature of our country’s landscape. As vehicles evolved from a few test models in the early 1800s to autos only the wealthy enjoyed to a mode of transport pretty much anyone could acquire, we’ve had a long and storied history with this necessary partner. Necessary also includes auto insurance these days, since you cannot legally drive anywhere without it.

Without our rides, we would still be a stationary society – and we wouldn’t have this great collection of songs from all genres about the love of using our wheels to explore our country. There’s nothing like rolling the windows down and belting out the words from our favorite artists as we embark on the beloved road trip. Roger Taylor from Queen probably expressed it well in his tune “I’m in Love with My Car,” where he celebrates his Alfa Romeo and the love of automobiles in general.

Cars and Road Trips Just Go Together

There’s something about embarking on a road trip that fires up everybody’s sense of freedom. You may have a starting point and you may have a destination, but the magic happens in between. Hitting the “long and winding road” as the Beatles sang in 1970 can be done solo, with a few besties or with your family. It really doesn’t matter because the open-road adventure has defined Americans since roads and autos were introduced. And rockers from all generations have written and sang ballads about the beauty – and the nostalgia – of taking their jalopies and trucks and being on the road.

At the root of all this exhilarating exploration down America’s highways and byways is the love we have for our wheels. After all, using a horse and buggy to go from Point A to Point B wasn’t nearly as much fun as hopping in our “Little Red Corvette” as Prince sang in 1982 or our hot rod “Little G.T.O.” as Ronnie and the Daytonas rocked out in the 1960s.  

And for those who love to rock, there are plenty of our best songs to choose from that celebrate the revered relationships we have with our vehicles. You may not be taping your faves from an album anymore, but taking advantage of the latest technology gives you an awesome playlist. So, without further ado, here is a list of the best rock anthems about cars for you to blast while getting your road trip on (or even just going to the grocery store)!

Let’s Start at the Beginning of Rock Songs About Cars

The first tune about an auto could be “In My Merry Oldsmobile” by Gus Edwards in 1905. However, since rock-n-roll wasn’t invented until the late 1940s and early 1950s, we’ll jump ahead to that time period to start searching for song suggestions you can download and put on your playlist before you hit the road.

Besides the list below, you’ll seriously be remiss if you miss Woody Guthrie and his 1954 ode to the new-fangled machine (and the noises it made back in the 50s) in a children’s ditty called “Riding in My Car”. You and your passengers will be literally ROFL (don’t undo the seat belts!) as you listen and learn the words. It’s such an old favorite that Bruce Springsteen – and various other artists – continue to perform (and make all of the required engine and door noises) today.

Rocket 88

In 1949, Jackie Brenston and his band the Delta Cats released “Rocket 88”, an homage to the Oldsmobile Rocket 88, so named due to having a 135-horsepower engine (rocket) that beat every other racer on the NASCAR circuit and coming off the line between the Olds 76 and Olds 98. Jackie Brenston wrote the popular rock that featured an opening keyboard riff based on Little Richard’s famous “Good Golly, Miss Molly.”  

Beep Beep

In 1958, a little ditty called “Beep Beep (The Little Nash Rambler)” by the Playmates made it onto the charts. This celebrated what may be America’s first successful compact ride, the Nash Rambler, as well as telling a real David and Goliath story of a mismatched race between this small but mighty convertible and a Cadillac. We won’t spoil the ending, you’ll have to download it yourself!

Hey Little Cobra

Jumping ahead to 1963, the Rip Chords jumped into fleeting fame with this anthem to the hot rod of the day, the Ford/Shelby AC Cobra. The musical scene was changing from the early rock-n-roll sounds of Chuck Berry to the surfer music that illustrated the 60s. Ford’s not-so-subtle desire to overtake the Chevy Stingray in the market drives the lyrics and if you can listen without jumping up to shake, rattle and roll, well, you are more sedate than us!

Finishing up the 1950s-1960s are several truly classic rock songs that you shouldn’t miss, including:

“Mustang Sally” by Wilson Pickett – Although defined as a rhythm and blues genre tune, Mustang Sally was beloved by rock-n-roll fans, as well. The ditty celebrated the Ford Mustang, as well as the fast girls who liked them.  

“GTO” by Ronnie and the Daytonas – Considered the first “muscle car”, the Pontiac GTO is detailed (really detailed) in this kind of whiny ditty only a true early rock fan could love.

“Little Deuce Coupe” and a variety of other automobile songs by the Beach Boys – No doubt about it, this sun-soaked surfer boy band of the 60s really really loved their automobiles, dedicating numerous great rockers to a variety of girl and car combinations.

“Mercedes Benz” by Janis Joplin – One of this great rockers last numbers before she passed away in 1970, Janis asks a higher power to buy her a Mercedes Benz with tongue-in-cheek.

Since rock-n-roll was introduced in the late 40s and early 50s, and the interstate highway system was launched in the mid-1950s, it’s only natural that creative musicians would start tying these new adventures together.  

Moving Into More Current Rock Songs About Cars

After the 1960s, rock numbers about cars continued to flourish, even as the rock-n-roll genre moved into bigger and more grandiose productions and took paths into new genres such as rap and hip-hop. Who can forget David Bowie’s “Always Crashing in the Same Car”, an homage to both road rage and possibly Bowie’s own struggle with depression. Other famous musicians who brought cars to life for us include:

“Cars” by Gary Numan – In America, Englishman Gary Numan introduced us to what is called “New Wave”, a heavily-electronic genre. Sadly, it was his only real hit on these shores, but it will get your blood moving.

“In the Death Car” by Iggy Pop – Talk about putting on a production, Iggy Pop played and sang (talked?) in a genre called Punk. Known for his theatrics, there have been a few numbers about autos in his collection, including “In the Death Car” and “The Passenger”, allegedly written after many hours on the road with David Bowie.

“Long May You Run” by Neil Young – So, Neil Young’s classic “Long May You Run” has been used over and over to cheer on various endeavors, including as a kind of ovation to the athletes who participated in the 2010 Vancouver Winter Olympics. But the song was an ode to Neil Young’s beloved Pontiac hearse, which sort of carried Young to his first kind of famous gig in Los Angeles when he and Stephen Stills formed Buffalo Springfield.

Too many to name? by Sammy Hagar – Not much to say here. Just kidding! All classic rock aficionados know and love the Red Rocker’s guitar and it’s especially appropriate when on the road to rock out to “I Can’t Drive 55” and “Trans Am (Highway Wonderland)”, only two of the many automobile tunes Sammy Hagar has contributed to our collective ears.

“Trampled Under Foot” by Led Zeppelin – This song, which goes into graphic automotive detail (and uses that detail to allude to some graphic, uh, other things) is a banner from the famous 70s rock band Led Zeppelin. Inspired, as were many rockers, by Wilson Pickett’s references to fast girls and fast cars, it’s also on ode to a Terraplane, which is a vehicle most of us have never heard of before.

“Highway Star” by Deep Purple – C’mon and just admit it. You cannot listen to this heavy metal, fast-moving, pulsing song without the blood moving a little faster in your veins! It’s the perfect upbeat tune – just be careful if you listen to it while driving that you don’t get a ticket, since the pounding beat may inadvertently make you exceed the speed limit.

“Red Barchetta” by Rush – Rush is known for drawing pictures with their ballads and people won’t be disappointed when they spend their time on a long drive listening to Geddy Lee’s high-pitched voice describing a futuristic time of no vehicles and a beautiful red hot rod hidden in a barn.

Before we come to the end of our list of best songs about cars, we would be horribly remiss if we didn’t at least mention three of the greatest: The Beatles, Willie Nelson and Bruce Springsteen.  

The Beatles’ Paul McCartney and John Lennon authored “Drive My Car” – as the first song on their album Rubber Soul. George Harrison contributed to the rhythm and Ringo Starr played drums…and cowbell? The Beatles had a wide variety of tunes related to driving and vehicles throughout their playing years together, but most people can sing every word of the infamous “Drive My Car”.

Now, some folks might argue that Willie isn’t rock, but those of us who love him understand that his “On the Road Again” is the soundtrack to any memorable road trip we’ve taken – or have yet to take – even if it skirts the edge of a country song. And Bruce – a dedicated rocker who has made no secret of his love for cars. Nothing against Hondas or Subarus, but just like Bruce’s “Pink Cadillac” our love is way bigger than that!

All of these very well-known rock stars and their tunes join a list that numbers in the thousands. There are too many to jot down here. As you plan your next trip, whether it’s a long and winding one or just down the street to the grocery store, you’ll have to make your own playlist to accompany you as you get behind the wheel of your own car.

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[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

John Lennon and Sir Paul McCartney at 20 Forthlin Road (Mike McCartney/PA)

* * * *

Simon Kuper: If you put together Anna Funder’s recent book on George Orwell with Jennifer Burns’ biography of Milton Friedman, an oddly similar story emerges. Both men, especially Friedman, co-created their most famous works with their wives. In Friedman’s case, with several other women besides. Orwell’s marriage to Eileen O’Shaughnessy seems to have prompted his best writing. She had written a dystopian poem about 1984 and helped convince him to turn his anti-Stalinism into a fable, Animal Farm. A little later, Friedman had the advantage over sexist male peers in realising that there were brilliant female economists who possessed few career options beyond working for him. To quote his wife Rose: “You can’t tell who wrote what, the style is the same throughout the books. I always tell people we work as one; we are one.” Funder and Burns have given forgotten women their place in history. But their findings also point to a truth that’s becoming evident about writing: often it’s collective rather than singular. The myth of the Great Writer creating in solitude is only sometimes true.

People have long understood that most acts of creation are collaborative: pop music, sport, films, inventing the atomic bomb. Only for books, especially fiction, does the presumption of the lone genius hang on. That might have surprised Shakespeare, who co-wrote some of his plays and adapted many from other writers’ work. But at some point, literature grew snooty about collaboration. Writers who did do it, like the two cousins who co-wrote detective stories under the name Ellery Queen, often pretended there was a single author. The author Malcolm Gladwell told Vanity Fair: “Writers . . . have this false ethic of originality. Whereas musicians are like, ‘Yeah, totally — we took this little bit from that song. And it’s inspired by this.’ I love how open they are about the fact that creativity is a collective enterprise. I want writers to be able to talk that way.”

Look at what happened when two musicians, John Lennon and Paul McCartney, co-wrote. They took collaboration for granted. Their biographer Hunter Davies, who had the unfathomable privilege of sitting in Paul’s house in Cavendish Avenue, St John’s Wood, watching them write “With a Little Help from my Friends”, recounts their method. They would sit there for hours, John playing the guitar and Paul “banging on the piano”, and when one of them thought up a line, they would edit it together. “Do you believe in love at first sight?” tried John, but there weren’t enough syllables for the melody. Paul added “a” in front of love, then John changed the opening to “Would you believe . . . ” While they were writing, visitors often dropped by — one friend sat reading a horoscope magazine — and John and Paul asked them for suggestions. The two would collaborate with anyone. Davies says that their assistant roadie Mal Evans, who wasn’t even a big Beatles fan, supposedly came up with the name “Sergeant Pepper”. Lennon and McCartney, equal parts inspiration and irritation, were better together, perhaps like Orwell and O’Shaughnessy.

This kind of literary collaboration made a comeback in our century. During the “golden age of streaming”, now ending, some great novelists co-wrote television series in writers’ rooms. Dramatists in Shakespeare’s time had worked in much the same way. In my brief glimpses of writers’ rooms, I saw the potential. One day, working on a fictional series that went nowhere, our team included an Italian woman who had been flown in for her expertise in writing female characters. Every writer has weaknesses and blind spots. A good writers’ room has fewer. No wonder that one of the most admired novelists of our time, Elena Ferrante, may in fact be a writers’ room. Elena Ferrante is a pseudonym. There is a whole genre of literary sleuthing devoted to uncovering who she is. In 2018, Rachel Donadio wrote an essay in The Atlantic magazine that possibly solved the mystery. Donadio suggested that Ferrante is at least two people: Anita Raja and her husband Domenico Starnone. Other writers and editors may have chipped in, too. After all, both Raja, as a literary translator, and Starnone, a successful screenwriter, had backgrounds in collaborative writing. Donadio also unearthed Starnone’s novel Autobiografia Erotica di Aristide Gambía, never published in English, which riffs on the mystery of Ferrante’s identity and laments a male author’s inability to create female characters. Perhaps Milton Friedman was also a writers’ room and (to a much lesser degree) Orwell. They should have just said so.

[Financial Times]

[quacka-quacka]

What was Paul’s relationship with his father ? And his brother ?

Although Paul's realtionship with his dad didn't seem awful according to Paul's own account, there's something weird about it besides the description from his stepmother Angie and stepsister Ruth:

'Paul wanted to smoke marijuana in the house. Dad gave him a hard time, but he still did it. In Paul's mind, it was his house and if he wanted to smoke, he could. But dad disapproved. Paul would blow hot and cold when he did drugs. He could be lovely one moment and nasty the next.'

[...]

'Jim was the only dad I knew. He got rheumatoid arthritis. Paul came over one day and flung open all the windows even though Dad was so frail by then he needed to sit by the fire to ease his pain. He told Dad, 'Don't be a cripple, get out of that chair and walk.' 'Poor old dad had tears plopping down his face, and he said, 'Back off son, leave me alone.' It sounds cruel, but I don't think he meant it to be. Dad got into debt towards the end and Paul bought back the house to allow him to pay his bills. He bought that house twice and, as far as I know, he still owns it.'

[...]

'Mum and I struggled [after Jim's death]. At one point I was holding down five jobs, including working as a barmaid and as an office cleaner. Looking back, I think he cut us off because we were part of his dad's world and when he died, that was the natural break for Paul.'

— Ruth McCartney

Ruth and Angie are not considered reliable sources, certainly not by Paul's fans. I don't know if they were telling the truth either, but after recollecting Paul/Beatles interviews and books I've watched/read, there's one thing I found pretty strange - he barely mentioned Jim's death.

It's such an unnatural thing for a person who's so used to taking about death in public (Mother Mary, John, Linda, etc. He may not good at handling death but he certainly talked a lot about it) choose to avoid the topic when it comes to his dad, especially after he missed Jim's funeral - what exactly make Paul, who never tire of justifying his motivation about John's death remark "it's a drag" feel no need to give a proper explanation about why he absented his own father's funeral? (neither European tour nor avoiding mob were mentioned by Paul himself, the only thing he said was *Jim hated funerals*, and it was said only once as far as I know.) In Many Years From Now, Paul's most important semi-autobiography, he did not forget to defend Mal Evans who was shot dead for pointing a gun at the cops and detail his last meeting with Robert Fraser who died of AIDS later while not a single Paul's word about Jim's death can be found but a summary by Barry Miles:

Shortly afterwards, Paul's father, Jim, died of bronchial pneumonia at his home in Gayton in the Wirral on 18 March 1976, at the age of seventy-three. He had been ill for several weeks.

Is Jim's death less important than Mal's and Robert's? Or is Paul deliberately avoiding the subject? If so, why would he do that?

We will never be sure what happened between Paul and Jim unless we can read Paul's mind. All we have are fragments of past from here and there, some of them indicates that the intimate Liverpool working-class family life he tried to maintain in public was not so idealistic because it's doubtful that Jim - his only parent after age 14, was a good father.

Jim had to be a father and a mother after Mary died. Bring up two adolescent boys on his own was not easy. It's too much to ask Jim to be a perfect parent. The things he did to his sons may not considered unaccpetable back in 1950s, though marks had been left on Paul and Mike after all these years, like corporal punishment. It was told several times by Paul and Mike that Jim used to bash them.

Even Jim himself admitted that he hit his son:

'I was once hitting Michael for doing something,' says Jim. 'Paul stood by shouting at Mike, "Tell him you didn't do it and he'll stop." Mike admitted he had done it, whatever it was. But Paul was always able to get out of most things.'

— The Beatles authorized biography by Hunter Davies

I'm surprised Paul didn't sidestep the issue most of the time even if it contradicats his *happy family* image. Maybe 1) the matter is too painful to rationalize that the perfect family image doesn't matter any more when he thinks of the physical discipline or 2) as a Scouser grown up in 1950s, he thinks corporal punishment is pretty common that it did not affect his family become *amazingly optimistic* even if he doesn't like it.

Physical violence is somewhat unbearable but I don't think it's the only reason for Paul's weird manner in late years. To Paul, Jim isn't "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named". On the contrary, he is not only mentioned a couple of times on Paul's soical meida accounts but an essential element in Paul's version of his upbeat Liverpool upbringing that *not everyone can live like they did*. However, Jim barely existed beyond Paul's childhood and adolescence in Paul's account when it comes to something specific, even if he lived to his 70s when Paul was married with three children. Maybe he dosen't have much to say after not living with his father, but avoiding his death?

There's another thing Paul never mentioned - Jim's gambling problem.

Mike wrote in his book that Jim is an insatiable gambler who was seriously in debt. It's not a good news for a family whose only income source was one parent earning under £10 a week. I suspect Jim didn't quit gambling when his sons grew up - according to the authorized Beatles biography, Paul bought him a race horse as a birthday present in 1964. I doubt Paul would like it if he continue consuming large sum of money till the end.

As for Mike, maybe he's not that close to Paul but not hostile either? Family interest is much of his concern that he would insist on getting back Paul's award-winning primary school essay. Although he's not often mentioned by Paul, his photo was used as the cover of Chaos and Creation and The Lyrics. BTW, he has the sense of humor his brother lacks, I like him.

[grey-the-goose-art]

I never posted this doodle cos I didn't really like how it turned out but with all of these #lukanette feels flying around I thought "why not??"

This is from an au idea I had ages ago. I haven't done anything with it but here are the notes I had saved on my phone:

AU where Luka got the ladybug miraculous (he already has the pierced ears) and Marinette got the black cat miraculous. (Then later Adrien gets the turtle miraculous cos hes all about protecting his gal. )

In this au Luka returned home sooner from his study abroad. He was running late to school when he saw Fu fall and helped him get up. Adrien didnt make it far enough out of the mansion before being caught, so he never had the chance to run into him. Fu slipped Luka the miraculous and its later at home that Luka discovers the ladybug earrings and Tikki. Tikki and Luka get along really well and Luka is fairly mature for his age. The biggest problem they face in their relationship is that Luka and his family can't bake for beans. Once Luka learns what Tikki eats he panics a bit. He asks Juleka for help and she points him towards Marinettes family's bakery. It's practically love at first sight for both Luka and Tikki. Tikki adores Marinette right away and can't help but feel that Fu made a mistake when handing out the Miraculous. Luka and Tikki become regular customers and come by the bakery at least once a day. Luka is always hinting to Juleka that her friends (especially Marinette) should come hang out at their boat more often. Luka becomes Scarlet Beatle (he thinks the spelling is a nice nod towards his musical roots but really hes the only one who spells it that way)

Marinettes origin story is pretty similar to canon except now she has a sassy cat to boost her confidence and teach her to stand up for her convictions and screw the consequences. This is both a good and bad thing as Marinette now tends to get into more complicated and slightly ridiculous situations. Marinette still considers giving away the miraculous but Plagg tells her off and asks her whether or not she can really just sit by as everything around her is destroyed by hawkmoth. Marinette uses her destructive powers well but is much better at the planning and using the lucky charms than Scarlet Beatle. This drives Tikki a bit insane, Tikki loves Luka but shes super jealous that Plagg got Marinette.

Adrien is allowed to go to school after his almost escape and the gum incident still happens. Adrien feels awful and tries to apologize but Marinette has trouble believing him. After Adrien and Nino become friends, Adrien confides in him a bit about his current situation and how the gum incident really went down. Plagg happened to have been snooping in Adriens bag at the time and overheard. Plagg feels for the kid and non chalantly tells Marinette what's up. Marinette apologizes to Adrien and they become awkward almost friends. Adrien is constantly trying to prove himself and Marinette feels bad that she blew things out of proportion and tends to screw up around him.

This all changes when Marinette saves some of her classmates as Félin Noir. Before Marinette could escape to transform, alot of the students were cornered. Adrien jumped in to protect them and give them time to escape and ended up falling victim to the akuma. After the day was saved the classmates swarmed Scarlet Beatle to thank him and Adrien stayed off to the side looking glum. Félin came up and asked him what was wrong and Adrien said that he was basically useless and he couldnt even protect his friends. Félin gives him a peptalk and calls him a hero. She then runs off to detransform. Cue Adrien falling head over heels for the heroine. (He probably would have had a crush on Marinette had he not been convinced she hated him. At this point hes working so hard to be friends with her that the thought of having a romance with her hasn't crossed his mind.) Marinette detransforms in an alley and her and Plagg both agree that Adrien is a really good guy. Plagg then ruins the moment by suggesting that Marinette steal his phone. Marinette wants to get closer to Adrien but still has trouble talking to him in her civilian form. When shes out as Félin though Marinette doesnt have as much trouble talking to him and after saving him a couple times and having him protect her a time or two creates a pretty good relationship with him. She calls him kitten and they joke and pun back and forth. Marinette starts to develop a crush on him and Plagg becomes the biggest Adrienette shipper on the planet.

That however is where the love drama starts. Luka is in love with Marinette and Tikki is all for that Marinette train. Marinette is caught between liking her kind and supportive partner Scarlet Beatle and the protective sun child Adrien. Plagg is again all for that sweet Adrienette and will often sabotage Lukas (and consequently Tikkis) attempts at wooing Marinette. Meanwhile Adrien is head over heels for Felin.

Things get even more complicated later on. Hawkmoth has gotten more aggressive in his attacks and Fu determines that another miraculous holder is necessary. Fu was present for Felins hero speech and his hero senses went crazy for Adrien. Adrien is the first hero that Fu approaches directly. Fu becomes Adriens Chinese teacher so that they can meet in private and he starts teaching Adrien about the miraculous. Because of Adriens protective nature Fu entrusts Adrien with the turtle miraculous. Adrien joins the group and becomes the shield for team miraculous. Adrien and Scarlet Beatle get into it a bit though. Adrien feels that Scarlet isnt showing enough thought and care to Felin as Felin seems to take alot of the blows for him (similar to how chat noir does in canon) Adrien sticks pretty close to Felin and protects her. Being by his crush that much though causes Adrien to kind of clam up. He gets along well with the team but doesnt say a ton, especially at first.

Anyway that's all I've got (besides a couple of cruddy phone doodles) just figured I might as well post it somewhere 🤷‍♀️

[mysweetgeo]

I Need You (Part 16)

Summary: Sequel Series to the Do You Want to Know a Secret ? Series. Reader accepts a job as a photographer for a band as they begin a tour mid-1966, what happens when she finds out that she knows them ?

Following yours and George’s close encounter, the two of you had never been closer.

You were almost always smooshed against each other, snuggling, or sending longing gazes to each other.

John was very vocal about how gross love was, despite having a wife and child of his own, and reminded you every time you had even a minor display of affection.

You and George had been walking towards your hotel room, hands interlocked when all of a sudden John had come up between you, effectively splitting your hands apart as he quickly darted towards his own room.

You both knew John was very obviously picking fun at your newfound (to you and George) love, and was actually quite supportive of your relationship.

Ringo was quick to tell you that he was very happy to see both you and George so happy and well together.

Paul was on a completely different agenda.

He’d seemingly not been able to unsee your exposed upper half and couldn’t be in the same room as you without his eyes drifting to your chest. What a child.

The five of you had been sat playing cards (well four more like, you just enjoyed watching) in John’s hotel room, and Paul was completely distracted by you and had missed his turn, earning an enthusiastic jab to his ribs from John.

“Ye mind playing your turn, lad? Or are you going to take (Y/N)’s clothes off with your mind?” John had cruelly remarked, which caused a pink tint to appear on your cheeks, and Paul’s face to turn a bright red.

Paul immediately adverted his gaze from you and down to his hand, throwing his cards down and standing up, suddenly very restless.

“Think I’m going to call it a night, have a good one,” he uttered before scrambling to get out the door as fast as he could.

A short moment of silence passed before Ringo spoke up, obviously not knowing what had happened just a few short days ago, “What’s his problem?”

Before you or George could reply, John had already opened his big mouth and told Ringo exactly what had happened.

“Paul and I walked in on George and (Y/N) having sex,” John stated matter-of-factly, “I think he’s got a little crush on our lovely Beatle-lady.”

You rolled your eyes at John’s wording, “We didn’t have sex, John,” you retorted, turning towards Ringo to tell him what had happened.

“We were—“ You were cut off by John, who was just as blatant as before.

“Well from what I saw, your were pretty naked and that’s damn near incriminating enough evidence that you were having sex,” he stated, shooting you a pointed look.

Your face flushed a deeper pink colour, “We didn’t get quite that far,” you mumbled, suddenly feelinf very embarrassed about your sex life.

John’s face changed, showing what looked almost like guilt and he spoke again, “Well ye didn’t have to stop on our account!”

George replied this time, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you against his side, “A little difficult when your bandmates see your bird in the nip.”

It was quiet for a moment before Ringo finally spoke up, “Well apparently I miss everything when I phone Mo and skip out on the pubs.”

You lean heavily onto George’s shoulder before speaking again, “It’s bad enough that John and Paul’ve seen me naked, I don’t need you looking at me cross too, Rings.”

“Hey! I don’t look at ye cross!” John exclaims.

You gave him a pointed glance with one eyebrow raised, “Really, Lennon? Yer lookin’ at my chest right now.”

John immediately adverted his eyes, meeting yours, “Doesn’t really prove anything, always had wanderin’ eyes,” he wags his eyebrows in your direction.

You scoffed, “You’re disgusting,” you said as you stood up, resting a hand on George’s shoulder, “I’m going to go talk to Paul, see if I can help at all.”

George immediately stands beside you, “Are you sure? Do you want me to come with you?” He instinctively puts a hand on your waist.

“I think it’s best if I go by myself,” you tell him, looking into his eyes.

You can see the stirrings of jealousy swirling in his brown eyes, “I won’t let anything happen, George,” you whisper, taking his hand into your own and squeezing it for a moment, “I’ll meet you back in our room in a bit, yeah?”

George gritted his teeth and nodded, his grasp on your hand tightening.

You leaned forward to press a kiss against the corner of his mouth, releasing his hand in favour of pulling him against you in a tight hug, “I love you,” you murmured softly into his ear, your lips ghosting at the edge of his jaw.

“Love you too,” he muttered, returning your hug and taking a deep inhale of your scent, almost as if he thought he’d never get to again.

You pulled away and pressed a quick kiss against his lips, smiling as your lips parted, “I’ll catch up with you lads later,” you said, turning to acknowledge John and Ringo, who had been stone silent as the watched the exchange between you and George.

“Can’t believe I don’t get a hug and a kiss, and I’ve even seen ye in the nip!” John joked, reclining on the bed with a stupid grin on his face.

You rolled your eyes, “Bye, Rings,” you said with a wave in his direction, turning and walking out the door, unsure of how this conversation with Paul would go, but hoping that it would fix the shift in Paul’s behaviour.

+

You knocked softly in Paul’s door before opening it slowly, peeping your head in before stepping inside.

“Not in the mood, John,” you heard Paul say, when you disappeared further into his room you saw him curled up on his side, his back facing you on his bed.

“Not John,” you said in a soft voice.

He jumped at the sound of your voice, immediately becoming fidgety, “Oh, I—uh, yeah sorry,” he stumbled over his words as he sat upright and faced you, not meeting your eyes.

“Paul, what’s going on?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest, “What’s your issue with me?”

Paul immediately went white in the face, audibly gulping before speaking up.

“I’ve not got any issues with you, love,” he said, his voice shaking.

“You can’t even be in the same room as me without being cross, Paul. Now seriously, what’s going on with you?” You asked again.

He sighed, his eyes drifting to his feet, “I think I’m fallin’ for you, (Y/N). And I know it’s wrong and I shouldn’t do that to George, but I can’t help it,” he said quietly.

You’d expected this. He was acting exactly how John had acted when he’d first me you and thought he had a chance with you.

“What brought that on? You’d been acting fine until the other night,” you replied.

“Yer body,” he whispered, just barely audible to you.

Figures.

All men are the same.

“Paul, that’s not love,” you said, taking a step closer to sit beside him on the bed, “you’re just attracted to me, it’s not the same as love is.”

“How can you be so sure it’s not love?” Paul asked, his body becoming stiff as you sat beside him.

“I just—you know what, here,” you turned to face Paul placing a hand on his cheek, “kiss me,” you said simply, as if it wasn’t a major violation of yours and George’s relationship.

Paul’s eyes shot open, “W-What?” He asked incredulously, his eyes nearly popping out of his head.

“Kiss me. Then you’ll know it’s not love,” you stated plainly. You knew no one could compare to George, and you knew this would help Paul get over his little crush, solely because of how wrong it would feel.

Paul still looked unsure. It was written all over his face.

You knew what options he was weighing in his pretty little head.

On one hand, he would get what he wanted—to kiss you and to have you be his, even if only for a moment.

On the other, he would be betraying George, his oldest and dearest friendship.

You allowed Paul a moment to have an internal dilemma before surging forward and pressing your lips to his.

Wrong.

That was the only word you could think of to describe the kiss.

Sure, Paul was an excellent kisser, once he got with the program, but there was no electricity, no passion, nothing like when you kissed George.

You allowed Paul to kiss you for a moment before pulling away and meeting his eyes, “See,” you said, as if it was plain as day.

Paul’s breathing was ragged as he pulled away, looking down to meet your gaze.

“You okay?” You asked quietly, squeezing his arm to ground him.

He blinked a few times before finally answering you, “You’re right,” he whispered, bringing his index finger up to brush against his lips, “felt like kissin’ my sister,” he said with a cautious laugh.

You grinned, relieved. “I told you!” You exclaimed, bumping against his shoulder, “I don’t want things to be weird between us, Paul. You’re one of my dearest friends and I’d hate to let such a silly thing get between that.”

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you against his side, “I would too, love,” he whispered, pressing a quick kiss to your temple.

“So stop bein’ cross with me, yeah? I’ll see you tomorrow, we can even go out tomorrow night just like old times,” you said before standing up and patting his shoulder.

“I won’t,” he murmured, standing with you and pausing for a moment before speaking again. “Hug?” He offered.

“Always, Paulie,” you replied, pulling the soft lad into a tight hug, wrapping your arms around his torso for a moment before pulling away, “I’ll see you tomorrow, love.”

“See you,” he replied as he watched you step out the door.

+

You felt a little guilty about kissing Paul, but felt relieved that he could get over his little crush on you.

As you stepped into yours and George’s shared hotel room, you could only grin at the sight that greeted you.

George was laid out in his pyjamas, a magazine in his hand as he intently read.

“Hi,” you hesitantly greeted, coming to stand at the foot of the bed, facing him.

George popped his head up over the top of the magazine to look up at you, a grin splitting his face as he saw your face.

“Well hello to you too, love,” he greeted in return, closing the magazine and gesturing for you to join him on the bed.

You accepted his invitation, crawling on the bed to curl up at his side, tucking yourself into the crevice that he’d given you by lifting his arm.

You pressed a wet kiss against his cheek, nuzzling your nose against his jaw after you’d pulled away.

“How was Paul?” He asked, squeezing you against his side.

You leaned against him to rest your head on his shoulder, “He’s fine now, he’s gonna get over it,” you said plainly.

“Get over what?” George asked, slightly confused. He had an idea of what you meant, and he didn’t exactly like it.

You sighed, reaching for George’s hand to hold before you spoke, “Paul has—no had a crush on me, very insignificant,” you said nonchalantly.

You felt his hand clamp down on yours, making the tense atmosphere almost suffocating, “H-He what?” George’s head snapped to look down at you, “Did he tell you that directly? What exactly happened?” He sat up to look directly at your face.

“George, please calm down,” you started, squeezing his hand.

“I am calm,” he huffed, his jaw set.

“You have to promise you won’t get upset, with me or with Paul,” you said, looking him directly in the eye.

“What—Yes, yes I promise I won’t get upset,” he stated, his voice still tense.

“I confronted Paul, and then let him kiss me,” you said in a calm voice.

“Y-You, you let him kiss you?” George started before taking a deep breath through his nose, “Why did you let him kiss you?”

“To prove that it was wrong, that his feelings were purely physical,” you stated, running your free hand up his arm, “it felt wrong, y’know?”

George bit his lip, turning away from you for a moment before looking back to you and speaking again, “You kissed Paul?” He asked.

You nodded, “I did,” you paused for a minute before continuing, “but, it meant nothing.”

George took a shaky breath, his hand clenching onto yours, “Really?” He asked, his voice nearly trembling.

“Yes, George. I would never do anything to deliberately hurt you, you have to know that,” you spoke softly, “I love you, and nothing is going to change that.”

He smiled softly, dipping his head to press a gentle kiss to your lips, “Bet he doesn’t kiss like I do, does he?” He teased.

An involuntary giggle escaped your lips before you could reply, “No one kisses like you do, Georgie.”

His face split in a grin before he surged forward, crashing your lips together.

[mimikyugirl]

The lads are coming home from tour!

.John.

he loves to come by surprise

so when he called you the night before, he didn't tell you that he was already at the airport about to go home

the last two shows on the tour were canceled and he was secretly happier that he could go home sooner

go home to you <3

the sun hadn't even come up when john came home the next morning

the tiredness he felt on the flight quickly disappeared when he saw you in bed

the thin sheets marking the body he loved most in the world

two weeks away from you felt like an eternity to him

then when he approached the bed, already free of the uncomfortable clothes, and let his lips be your invitation to a new day, you woke up

the first thing you felt was John's kisses gently moving up your thighs

his broad shoulders and messy hair were the first thing you saw that day

the second was his perfect smile making its way to your lips

"Good morning, love. I missed you so much that I threatened to set the stage on fire... then they let me come home early."

.George.

George doesn't think about anything other than hugging you

he spends nights awake in hotels just wanting to feel the heat of your body beside him

during the return flight, he can barely sleep a wink

just looking forward to the moment that he can finally hold you again

and when that moment finally arrives, George says nothing

just holds you and allow himself to sink into the scent of your hair

in your heartbeat

it's like he can finally breathe

as if you were his home

when you kiss him, he remains with his eyes closed, as if he is afraid of waking up from a dream

George doesn't even remember to unpack

anything that means not being near you for the next few hours is immediately discarded

"I think if I had to listen to Ringo snoring for one more night this hug would be happening in jail, luve."

.Paul.

Paul always calls home after the shows

it doesn't matter what time it is

he leaves all barriers aside when talking to you

he says that it is at this moment, when he talks to you, that he realizes how far away from home he really is

some nights he calls and you can hear John's laugh in the background

and you are happy that they are having fun

and sometimes he just calls to say he misses your moans lol

the night Paul comes home, he organizes everything to take you to dinner at your favorite restaurant

you spend the night sipping champagne and whispering about how you missed each other

he doesn't even look tired, in his neat white suit and smiling to everyone around him

but you know that later, when you are alone and away from prying eyes

Paul will rest on your shoulders and breathe a sigh of relief that he is home

he makes a point of kissing and feeling every little part of your body, to kill once and for all the urgency he felt of you

at this moment there is no barrier between you two either

"You have no idea how much I love coming back to you."

.Ringo.

he always insists that you go with him on tours

makes several plans with the free time

until Brian reminds him of the chaos that it is The Beatles on tour

then he thinks it's safer for you to really stay at home

but calls every day and eagerly listens to all the details of your day and work

even what you ate for breakfast

he carries a picture of you in his wallet and kisses it every night before going on stage

when it's finally time to go home, he calls excited to tell

and you organize dinner with his favorite food

when he opens the door and sees you, he is the one who runs towards you

throws himself at you with the biggest smile in the world

and you lie kissing until the euphoria of homesickness passes a little

but he spends the rest of the first night unable to get away from you

shows animatedly all the photos he took of the band or the gifts he bought you

"Now put those things aside and give me back that mouth. I spent too much time kissing just your picture, I need to make up for lost time."

[inspiteallthedanger]

What I meant is that fans and the media often act like deranged freaks about John and Paul's relationship. I'm not excluding myself, for the record.

John, Paul, George and Ringo couldn't even go for a cup of coffee with their families without being constantly pestered about the Beatles. I'd find it hard to move on if I was confronted with that on a daily basis too. People just felt oddly entitled to tell them how they should feel about each other or what to do with their lives. It was unique even on a celebrity level.

This is why George saying to a fan in India: "if your friends really love me, please tell them to leave me alone" struck me as really sad. I actually feel sorry for Paul to a certain extent too, because it's obvious he feels the need of saying the "right" things about his own life not to upset people he has never met. He's about to turn 80 years old.

I can understand that for boomers, The Beatles were symbols of their own fading youth but I find a little harder to understand extreme behavior from millennials and zoomers. You'll see those 400 page meta essays to prove the point that two total strangers loved or hated each other DECADES ago. You're like: ok, bestie, I get it, now just chill for a second.

I've done that myself in the past but at least I'm self aware enough to know this is *excessive* and part of the problem on a social perspective, to say the least. Besides, feelings evolve. I'm sure they both loved AND hated each other at different points.

I wasn't saying any of that to be antagonistic, I'm just curious to understand the motivations behind that. Since you're somebody who engages with parts of the fandom I don't, I thought maybe you'd have something to say about it. It's strange how people will sometimes complain about the fandom being too quiet or dead but won't actually make the effort of talking to each other off anon, you know.

P.S.: I quite enjoy how you write their relationship in fiction, by the way.

Hiya, I'm still not understanding that the problem is you're asking about. Is it that fame is hell? Hard agree, and it clearly messed them up a lot. But, I'm not sure what meta on Tumblr is doing to impact that now. I can see that it would form part of the overall soup of not letting them move on. But, that's just humans being human. We want more of the things we love. Or is it that you feel people are missing the wider story by fixating on the wrong thing? I guess that could be true, but I'm not sure if that's a huge problem, if that's what people are interested in.

The things you're describing seem to be very typical fannish behaviour. Fans often explore the themes they're interested in and look deeply at them. They want to pull things apart in detail and then see what it all means. It's for fun, it's enjoyable to look for patterns and to see if there's threads that can be found linking them all. This happens over and over because new people come into fandom and want to look at the thing again from new and the same angles.

I'm not sure that the aim is to convince Paul how he felt about John? I'm not sure that the aim is to tell anyone how they felt (at least I'm not sure that's it for many people). It's about trying to understand it. But, I suppose there might be elements of that in the tone of how they were treated and asked questions. And agreed, it must have been really annoying.

If you've done it yourself, what were you trying to achieve and how do you perceive that as different from the people you're talking about? What constitutes a 'deranged freak' from... a person that's interested in the Beatles histories. I mean, I would say that anyone who's written a book about the band could fall into the former category. So, we're back to 'fame is bad and not good for people' and I don't disagree with that. But again, fandom on Tumblr now isn't really the problem.

But, if you're asking why: it's fun, it's what has caught people's imaginations and humans generally like trying to solve things. We like picking apart the things other humans have done that don't seem to add up. The issue with John and Paul might well be that many people grew up thinking one thing about them but now find that isn't the whole story. I think it makes sense to then dive into that and want to look at it in more detail.

And I agree that people should definitely chat to each other and have discussions! That's all really good and should be part of a healthy fandom. I think there's a fear of getting called names or being judged for it, though. Which is probably why people stay on anon and why more popular blogs tend to fade.

p.s. thanks! Glad you liked it.