#They were still FRIENDS John and Paul had something special but they didn’t just completely ignore George and Ringo

[iwannabeyourman]

I honestly hate how pretty much every single lennison/mcharrison fic out there is just George being the side piece/getting pushed aside in favor of Mclennon. Like it might be the most ‘historically accurate’ dynamic but cmon. He’s still George. Hes their special little guy

[blackberry-gingham]

Hii I love your writing and was so happy to see your taking requests💗. If your ok with doing au’s, could I request headcannons for the lads being the reader’s guardian angel?

Aw this sweet 🥺🥺 sure, I'll see what I can do! I feel like this an established trope, but I don't know too much about it bc I haven't seen many examples 💀 Sooooo yeah, I'm just going to do my own take on this!

I'm thinking of the like typical bird people type angels, so you know, like a physical being with wings on the back and stuff, oh but a thing to note is only you can see your angel!

George

George would 10/10 be an overbearing guardian angel lol

Technically, angels aren't supposed to reveal themselves unless if their charge is in either extreme distress or a life or death situation

But George always worries for you!

Tripped and scrapped up your knee as a kid?

George is there to help you up and dry your tears

Lost your mom at the store?

George comes to help you find her

Stuck in the rain at the bus stop after work?

George let's you take cover under his wing to stay dry

Needless to say, you guys become super fast friends!!

It gets to a point where he just hangs out with you whenever and wherever, even if you're just sitting in your room

What can he say? He loves spending time with you!

Oh another thing, George loves trying human food!

If you like cooking or baking, or even if you don't mind just making an extra lunch sandwich, he really appreciates it and loves whatever you make!

Also, he loves when you touch or play with his wings

Usually this is kind of a no no with other angels since it's a big source of their power, but you and George have a special bond!

If any of his feathers fall out from preening, he lets you keep them

Once they're seperated from the wing, they lose most of their power, but enough of them together can ward off minor threats in his absence

He loves that that's a thing

It's like he can still protect you, even when he can't be there :)

John

Have you guys ever seen that meme where it's like an angel statue and it's face palming?

Then the caption is like "my guardian angel watching me, like, exist" or whatever lmao

That's John 😂

At first you're kind of just a silly little human to him tbh

Maybe even a little rascal!!

So he's there for you pretty often

I mean really, how is he supposed to stay away when you so obviously need his protection???

After all, anyone who gets John assigned as their angel probably likes getting up to mischief lol

He lets your parents handle little things, like a scraped knee or a bad day, but things that get you really hurt like a bad fall, will have him come running

Another weakness is he can be a bit overbearing and will kind of like... jedi mind trick bullies and the like away from you to keep you safe

But times where you're in emotional distress...

You can always rely on him

Like, the night before starting a new school year or a tough test?

He'll sit up and comfort you all night if he has to until you feel calm enough to sleep

Stressing for an interview or meeting?

You can bet he'll be sitting right there with you the whole time, cheering you on!

It takes a bit of time for John to trust you, but as the years pass, you find you're able to rely on his presence pretty consistently

If you've held onto your mischievous streak and like doing thrilling type activities, like hiking, rafting, or bungee jumping, John is by your side like 24/7 lol

One the one hand he wants to participate as much as he's able

But at the same time, he watches you like a hawk, making sure you don't get hurt, or worse

And good thing too

Let's just say he's saved you from such a fate more then once lol

Paul

Honestly, Paul would be the one to follow Da Rules™ the closest

He feels just awful seeing you sad or hurt as a kid, but he knows he's really not supposed to reveal himself

Despite, John and George doing whatever the heck they want apparently

Of course, he has come to your rescue a few times as a kid tho!

One day at the lake, you waded in alone and got caught in an undertoe

You were terrified to find that you couldn't swim to the surface

And just when you thought you couldn't hold your breath any longer, a hand plunged in and snatched you up

Your parents, who were worried sick, found you on the shore side a few minutes later

You always wondered who saved you...

As you got older and started to learn about guardian angels however, that's when you started getting more acquainted with Paul

See, kids usually don't understand what's happening when they see an angel, and the angels certainly wouldn't want their kids to be afraid of them!

They also wouldn't want to risk the children getting too attached

After all, that kind of bonding should be built with caretakers and other humans

But once you're grown, it's much safer to be a little more loose with interactions between the angel and their human

Once you are older, and find yourself getting into less dangerous situations, Paul just hangs out with you like a friend would

You love having him around, especially in stressful times like school and work deadlines

He likes to sing to you when you're feeling anxious, and with you when you're having fun!

His voice is the most beautiful sound you've ever heard, and you love it more then any human music

Which is kinda funny, considering he seems quite fascinated with human instruments and songs!

Ringo

Ringo, like Paul, is also pretty big on following Da Rules™

Although, Ringo is very overprotective towards you when you're sick

Especially if you're sick a lot or have something chronic, like asthma and the like

One night, during a really bad case of phnuemonia, you had to spend a few nights in the hospital

It was awful, especially for a little kid such as yourself

Even though you were in no immediate danger, anytime your family or doctor couldn't be there, Ringo stuck by your side all the while

It was sort of your official meeting, honestly

At first you were scared that you'd died when you first saw him, but he quickly reasured you that that wasn't the case!!

He always felt a little bad for that ever since

And only showing up when you were sick didn't make things much better...

So after a while, he decided to hang around you during normal times too

You guys become fast friends, and you appreciate his good sense of humor!

Also, you especially appreciate his help when you're sick as an adult and off on your own

He's practically your personal nurse!

Plus, anything that gets you a fever, he can kind of treat for you, actually 👀

While he himself doesn't have any healing powers, he likes to fan you with one of his wings

His wings are smaller then most, so he's worried they won't do much to help you

But that's completely untrue!

The breeze coming off his feathers has the same magical properties as anyone else's :)

You feel a cooling sensation almost immediately, and your fever is sure to break soon enough

[obx-adventures]

The Fall

Summary: Grace just moved from Figure Eight to the Cut. She never expected to run into her old friend, Kiara, and discover she lives next door to JJ Maybank.

Catch up here: Ch 1, Ch 2

——

Chapter 3

When Grace’s alarm goes off the next morning, she’s saddened to see that JJ isn’t still sleeping beside her. She reaches over and feels the bed is still warm so he must have left only a few minutes ago. Grace lays back down and covers her face with her hands, trying to stop herself from crying.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” JJ’s voice startles her out of her thoughts. She sits up quickly and isn’t able to hide the look of surprise on her face.

“Uh… nothing. I just… I thought you left.” Grace ducks her head in embarrassment, silently chastising herself for being so vulnerable around him.

“Nope, just went to the bathroom. I wouldn’t just leave without saying goodbye.” He sits down on the side of her bed and reaches over to brush her hair out of her face. “Thanks for letting me stay here last night.”

Grace finally looks up at his face and is again stunned by how beautiful he is. Even with the bruises and cuts from his father’s abuse, she’s never seen a more breathtakingly handsome guy. She shakes herself out of her stupor and climbs out of bed to start getting ready for work.

JJ watches her search for her work clothes and notices the pink tinge is back in her cheeks. He can’t help feeling a little proud that he flusters her. He’s also more than a little nervous about his growing feelings for her. Grace is nothing like the girls he usually hangs out with. She’s quiet, reserved, and doesn’t drink or smoke or surf. But he can’t help being captivated by her, especially by how beautiful she is both inside and out. Grace has the type of beauty that you may not see right away but it’s just because she doesn’t flaunt it. When you finally stop to look and get to know her, she’s absolutely stunning.

When she returns from changing in the bathroom, he offers to walk her to work. Neither of them talks for a while, both stuck in their own thoughts.

“JJ, can I ask you a question?”

“Of course, what’s up?”

“How long ago did your mom leave?” JJ wasn’t sure what he expected but it definitely wasn’t this.

“Umm, I think I was 11. Why?”

“Have you heard from her since then?”

“No, not a word. She sent my dad divorce papers and gave him full custody. That was it.”

“Does it get easier?” He looks over at her and sees tears glistening in her eyes. He finally understands why she’s bringing this up.

“Not really. Especially when my dad is a such a fucker. But you get used to it. Have you talked to your dad at all since you and your mom moved out?”

“You mean since he kicked us both out? No. And I get that he doesn’t want anything to do with her… but I can’t figure out why he doesn’t want anything to do with me. I mean, I’m his kid.”

JJ stops walking and grabs Grace’s hand gently. He pulls her in for a hug and kisses the side of her head.

“Listen, if he can’t see how amazing you are, it’s his loss, not yours. I know it hurts but it seems like you might be better off without him.”

“Why doesn’t he want me? What did I do wrong?” Grace is crying into JJ’s shirt while he hugs her tightly. JJ doesn’t know how to answer her so he tries to comfort her as much as he can without words.

After standing in each other’s arms for a few minutes, Grace pulls back. JJ cups her face and brushes away her tears with his thumbs. He kisses her gently on the forehead before letting her go. When they arrive at The Wreck 5 minutes later, he gives her another hug and kiss on the forehead before she goes inside and promises to pick her up after her shift ends.

----

“Grace, would you mind covering my tables while I run to the bathroom?” Grace nods at Kiara as she brings out food for one of her tables.

It’s been busy since the lunch rush started ‪at 11am‬, allowing Grace to distract herself from the emotional exchange she had earlier with JJ. Grace hears the door open and shut behind her and calls out to the new arrivals to take a seat wherever they’d like. After getting her table set up with their food, she grabs menus to bring over to the new table. Once she sets them down on the table and introduces herself, she finally looks at the diners and realizes her dad is sitting right in front of her.

“Uhhh, hi Dad…”

“Grace.” He says stiffly and without emotion. “What are the specials today?”

Grace is stunned into silence. Luckily, Kiara notices what’s happening and swoops in to rescue.

“Grace, thanks for getting my new table set up. Hello, I’m Kiara. I’ll be your server today.” Grace looks at her in confusion since this table is in her section, not Kiara’s. Kiara gives her a small nod and Grace smiles at her in appreciation.

A little later, Grace is taking her break outside when her dad leaves. She overcomes her anxiety and approaches him to talk.

“Dad… can I talk to you for a minute?” Paul Porter looks at her in annoyance and asks his companions to wait for him in the car.

“What?”

“I was just wondering if I could maybe come over some time… We haven’t seen each other since Mom and I moved out and I… I miss you.” Grace looks at her feet, ashamed of how weak she sounded.

“That’s not a good idea.”

“But why? What did I do wrong?”

“Look, Grace. I didn’t want to have to be the one to tell you this but it’s going to come out in the divorce proceedings anyways. You aren’t my daughter.”

“What?!” Grace can’t stop herself from yelling, even though she knows it will only upset him.

“Do not yell at me, young lady. Take this up with your mother. She’s the one that was already pregnant when we started dating. She didn’t tell me until after I proposed. My family wouldn’t tolerate the scandal of a wedding being called off, so I had to marry her anyways and pretend you were mine. But after her latest affair, I couldn’t do it anymore.”

“But you raised me… doesn’t that mean anything to you? You held me after I was born. You spent every day with me for 17 years.” Tears start streaming down Grace’s face.  

“I’m sorry, Grace. I’m not your father.” Before Grace can respond, he walks away from her and gets into his car, leaving Grace all alone to try to understand how her whole life has been a lie.

----

“Hey, Kie. Is Grace ready?” JJ asks Kiara later that afternoon.

“Yea, J, she’ll be out in a minute. But before she gets here, you should probably know that her dad came in ‪today for lunch‬. He was really cold with her, so I took the table. He left while she was on her break and she has been really quiet since then.”

“Fuck… did she talk to him when he left?”

“I don’t know. But I could tell she had been crying when she came back inside.”

“Damnit! Thanks, Kie.” JJ sits at the counter for a minute wondering what happened between the two of them. When Grace comes out front to meet him, he is startled by how sad she looks.

“Hi, JJ. You ready?” After he nods at her, she waves goodbye to Kiara and they leave. After a couple of minutes of silence, JJ decides the straight forward approach would be best.

“Kie said your dad stopped by today.” Grace nods at him but doesn’t say anything. “How did that go?”

“Fine.”

“Did you talk to him?”

“For a couple minutes.”

“How did that go?” JJ doesn’t want to push her too hard but he’s hoping she’ll open up like she did last night and this morning.

“Fine. What are we going to do tonight?” JJ glances over at her and sees her face is set in determination. He decides to let it go for now, hoping she’ll talk to him when she’s ready.

“JB wants to throw a kegger. I know you don’t drink but you should still come.”

“Ok, sure, sounds fun.” JJ stops walking completely and grabs her hand. When she sees the concern on his face, Grace refuses to give in. “What? You’ve been trying to convince me to come to a kegger for weeks. You said I should come.”

“I know. I’m just surprised. And a little worried.”

“Stop, I’m fine. Let’s just go straight to the Chateau. I don’t want to walk all the way home just to walk back this way.”

“But you always stop at home before we go out… Don’t you want to check in with your mom?”

“Not today. Let’s go.” Grace starts walking again but stops when JJ is still rooted to the same spot. “What now?”

“Uh, just surprised again. Don’t you want to change?”

“Kiara has told me before that she has extra clothes at the Chateau that I can wear. I’ll just change there.”

This time, JJ starts walking again when Grace does. The rest of the trip is quiet as JJ worries about Grace’s change in behavior.

----

John B, JJ, and Grace are waiting at the Chateau for Pope and Kiara before they all head over to the Boneyard. After Kiara texts the group that they are on their way, Grace goes in search of clothes to change into. When she comes back out in Kiara’s cropped tube top and short jean shorts, both John B and JJ are stunned. Grace understands their confusion but refuses to acknowledge it. She can wear whatever she wants, even if she’s never worn a tube top or exposed her midriff before.

“Hey guys. Everyone ready to party?” Kiara asks as she walks into the house, quickly followed by Pope. “Whoa, Grace, you look hot! I told you that you should try on my clothes.”

JJ shoots Kiara a look, trying to convey that this is not a positive development. But Kiara rolls her eyes at him and ruffles his hair.

“She’s right, Grace,” Pope tells her as he grabs a beer for the walk over. “You are really hot.”

“Why thank you, Pope. I wanted to try something different today.” She smiles at Pope and then sticks her tongue out at JJ playfully. “Can you bring me a beer, too?”

Everyone freezes in place and stares at her. Kiara finally understands why JJ was concerned and John B nods at her as if to say “See!”. During the couple hours that they hung out before Kiara and Pope arrived, John B picked up on the same behavioral changes that JJ noticed on the walk over. Pope looks at everyone else in confusion and then tentatively reaches in to the fridge to grab Grace’s drink.

“Thank you, Pope. Ok, let’s party!” Grace walks outside, leaving the Pogues staring at each other, each of them wondering what to do.

----

It’s Kiara’s turn to man the keg but she insists that Grace walk over with her. Each of the Pogues have taken turns buddying up with Grace throughout the party. Grace had finished the beer that Pope gave her by the time they got to the Boneyard and was already on her 5th drink.

“Hey, J. Ready to trade?” Kiara, who is holding Grace’s hand to keep close to her, passes it over to JJ.

“Sure. The keg is almost empty so be ready for some feisty people.” He looks at Grace and back at Kiara in concern. When Kiara shrugs, JJ decides that he’s going to try to get Grace to go home. “Hey, Grace. Having fun?”

“The best time ever!” Grace grabs both of JJ’s shoulders and pulls him in for a hug. “Will you be my beer pong partner?”

“Don’t you want to get home? It’s almost midnight.”

“Nope, I think I’m going to crash at the Chateau tonight.”

“You are? Are you sure?”

“Of course, I am, silly. Now, let’s go kick some ass at beer pong!”

JJ follows behind helplessly, unsure of what to do. He stopped drinking a while ago so he could keep an eye on Grace, but he still feels powerless to help her. What the hell happened today between her and her dad?

JJ and Grace run the beer pong table for almost an hour, with JJ trying to drink the cups on their side so Grace doesn’t get more drunk. After celebrating their 4th win, Grace feels a hand settle on her bare shoulder and turns to see who it is, not happy to discover it’s Rafe Cameron.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the Queen of the Good Girls out here half naked and drunk.” Grace scoffs at Rafe as JJ turns around. “Ah, Maybank, of course you’re the one responsible for this. Do you know how long I’ve been trying to get with her? I can’t believe that you’re the one to get her to drop the act.”

“Fuck off, Rafe. Grace, let’s go.” JJ, for once, doesn’t want this to escalate.

“Maybe I didn’t want to ‘get with you’ because you’re disgusting and an asshole.” JJ closes his eyes in resignation, sure this is going to turn into a fight. He flags down John B and Pope to help him out.

“Or maybe you lost everything and have decided to be Maybank’s new whore.” Before JJ can respond, Grace punches Rafe hard in the mouth. JJ grabs onto her as Rafe catches his bearings.

“First of all, you fucker, I am no one’s whore. Second of all, leave JJ the fuck alone.” Rafe rubs his jaw as fury radiates off of him while Grace struggles against JJ’s hold.

“I guess daddy was right to drop you along with your mom,” Rafe spits back at her.

JJ lets go of Grace so he can hit Rafe this time but, again, Grace beats him to it and punches him multiple times in the face. John B and Pope finally get over to them as JJ pulls Grace away. He needs to lift her up and carry her away from everyone while the other guys keep Rafe where he is.

“JJ, let me go!”

“Not until you calm down! What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“You heard him! He deserved it! Let me go!”

“No! Stop! What is going on?! This isn’t you, Grace.”

“Fuck you, JJ! You barely know me! You have no idea what I’m like!” At this, JJ releases her and turns around to collect himself.

“Grace, of course, I know you. Until today, you didn’t drink or punch people. You’re right, Rafe deserved it. But you know that if he acted like that before today, you never would have hit him. You would have walked away. Now tell me what the hell is going on! Please. What happened today with your dad?”

“JJ, you don’t get to know everything about me. It’s none of your damn business.” Grace refuses to be swayed by the look of pain and concern on his face. “I am not your responsibility. Turns out, I’m no one’s responsibility. So, I better start taking care of myself, starting now… I’m walking home. Don’t follow me.”

“Grace, wait!” JJ desperately calls out to her. “You promised me that you wouldn’t walk home by yourself.”

Grace stops in her tracks and looks back at him. She knows he’s only trying to look out for her, but she can’t let herself get close to someone else who could just decide one day to leave her.

“I’ll be fine, JJ. Goodbye.”

Ch 4

Taglist: @agirlwholovescoffee @alexa-playafricabytoto @mendesmaybank @teamnick @laurenyee09 @prejudic3 @teaheeee @literallylikepoison @shy-1234 @rudyismymanperiod

[afy2018]

Take These Ch. 1

“Take these,” Xavier offered his colleague. He wrapped Svane’s personal journals in twine. “Ask Eliza if you wish to know more about Bulshar… just be careful.”

Nicole accepted the old books then continued their search around the camp. Bodies were strewn around the bloody pass, preserved by the frozen morning and the freshly fallen snow. The remaining Purgatorian soldiers took note of their fallen, carrying them to the front of the jagged pass for the caravan to take. It was the lasting effects of adrenaline that kept Haught from collapsing in the wake of their fief’s mass mourning. By mid-afternoon, everyone returned to the castle, recouping from the previous night’s entanglements. In a weird way, everything felt quite normal as the residents fell back into their previous patterns. De Behr’s men travelled back to London with their minor scrapes and bruises. Doll’s peers seemed to take their time, though as they mourned their colleague’s noble death. Eliza spent her time in the Atrium, the silent heart of the Earp manor recently cleared for usage in the middle of winter. Nicole joined her, awkwardly shuffling through a narrow path of snow.

“How may I help you, Dame Haught?” Eliza inquired, barely acknowledging her presence.

“What do you know of Bulshar?”

“Ah, Xavier told me you’d be asking sometime before I left. I’m surprised that in your training you weren’t informed about his existence,” she continued. “Bulshar Clootie-”

“Clootie?”

“Yes, he’s a cult leader from a prominent family in London who has been executing royal and historical lineages for the past three decades.”

“Is he still active?” Nicole asked, still standing at relaxed attention.

“Very much. He is responsible for massacring many old families mostly in Wales and Ireland. While I was still working in the Royal Army’s special forces, we raided his fortress and found a room filled with various trophies from his victims. We were able to identify eight of the twenty crests.” Eliza informed her. She took a deep breath and asked, “Dolls refused to explain why you were so keen on asking me about Bulshar, so you tell me.”

“I just need to know why his name has come up so frequently in my life.”

“You know, I thought I recognized your last name and colours. The Haughts are an Anglo-Irish family which we believe to be mostly safe from Bulshar’s tirade as the families we’ve identified are Gaelic or Welsh.”

“Does he have any heirs or wives?”

“Most likely yes, but nothing official.”

Nicole’s shoulders slightly slumped at her answer. “If you raided his base, why is he still active?”

“He’s slippery. We’ve lost many a spy by his hand, so when he inevitably found out we were raiding his base, he fled and we still have no clue as to his whereabouts.”

“Any feeling about where he might be? Or anyone who could be connected to him?”

Eliza reflected for a short while and said, “If you find Robert Svane he would know the most… maybe even your friend John Henry Holliday?’

“Why would John know anything?”

“Dolls told me that he was close to the Revenants, he might know a few secrets he hasn’t shared with anyone.” Nicole shifted her weight to the other foot, relaxing from her attention stance even more before finally leaning against the gazebo. Eliza then warned in a slightly more hushed tone, “Be vigilant and careful about who you share information with, Dame Haught. Bulshar has agents of chaos everywhere. Once you begin to investigate him, you’ll find that you can no longer trust anyone, not even the ones you love.” With that last piece of advice, Eliza lazily sighed, her demeanor completely shifting from just a few seconds before, “Anything else you felt you needed to know?”

“No, thank you, Dame,” Nicole bowed, then retreated to the castle.

John Henry Holliday, that’s who she needed to find. She hated searching for him as he was the laziest busy-body she knew. Nicole scoured the manor, first in Wynonna’s office, then down the Eastern wing, North, then South, but he was nowhere to be found. She did, however, happen upon her partner approaching their room.

“You look lost, Cesario” Waverly teased, wheeling her around.

“Cesario?” she questioned. Nicole couldn’t help but smile at her suave action and pecked her forehead.“I’m looking for John.”

“Oh, he’s playing dice at Shorty’s, currently getting rich at Shorty’s,” she remarked. “Is he in trouble?”

“No, actually, he might have some information about Bulshar…”

“Who told you that?”

“Eliza,” Nicole nodded towards the atrium. She mulled over her words and admitted, “If he knows about Bulshar, you may have been correct in thinking that he wasn’t as trustworthy as we originally thought.”

“Well, if he isn’t trustworthy, then why ask him?”

“I mean, he’s bound to say something true,” she guessed.

Waverly bit at the inside of her lip, “Why don’t you hold off on asking him. Wynonna’s known him longer and might help you prepare to call out his fibs when you question him.”

“Yeah, that’d be helpful…” Nicole agreed, fixing her partner’s St. Michael necklace and shirt. “So, if I’m Cesario, then who are you, Olivia or Orsino?”

“I would hope Orsino,” Waverly assured with a reaffirming peck on the lips.

“Where are you off to?”

“Gary needs help with the survivors, so I was going to get some bandages and salve.”

“How is Paul?”

“He’s very shaken. We had to amputate his leg and now… I’m not entirely sure what’s next for him,” she honestly sighed.

“Do you think he’s glad to be alive?” Nicole whispered.

Held back, Waverly asked, “Why? I’m… I’m sure he is.”

“I… don’t know. I was just curious. What would you do if you lost your leg?”

“I would continue my daily activities. Why, what would you want?” she carefully inquired, reaching up to her jaw.

Nicole pulled away, for a brief moment. “I don’t know. I think… I’m going to go ask Wynonna about John.”

Waverly watched her retreat into herself as she escaped their conversation to hide in her sister’s office for the time being. Despite their concerning conversation, she went along with her duties, collecting apothecary supplies to do her part in the reconstruction of their fief. Nicole found her way back to the office where Wynonna was still penning a letter to the Carlo brothers. She glanced up at her with a weak smile.

“Please tell me you brought something.”

“Just myself, and Svane’s dirty secrets,” Nicole explained, pulling the diaries from her satchel. “Wanna take a peak?”

“I’m a tad busy with the dead and all, but make sure to tell me the juiciest bits,” Earp remarked, going back to her letter.

Nicole sat down in the corner and began to pour over the old journals. There were seven in total and they spanned from 1601 to what would most likely lead into this past week. Svane’s writing in the first journal instantly began mentioning not only his father, Björn, but a cultist mentor Nicole assumed to be Bulshar. His writing was mostly chicken scratches, which made reading too difficult in certain passages. Sitting out of the way, Haught caught the various conversations between the ruling Lady and her citizens. Two of which, Pastor Williams and the local gravedigger Jones, were worried about last rites and proper burials in the dead of winter. It became all too real for her, though; and judging by the side glances she earned from Wynonna, it was getting to the young leader, as well. Earp kept a level head throughout the meeting and dipped into the treasury so Jones could bury the dead before they began to decay.

Once they left, Nicole asked, “How are you?”

“Considering I haven’t slept for the past three days, I lost Svane who’s probably going to attack us again, and this battle left three families with dead kids and another four considerably injured, I’m faring quite well,” she huffed. Wynonna locked them in the office and turned to her friend. “I- was it worth the bloodshed? Really, don’t bullshit me like everyone else.”

“I never do,” she admitted, thinking about her words. “I think it was. You dealt with an old foe who has been attacking and slaughtering your family for the past, what, four generations?”

“Six.”

“Exactly.”

“But was it worth doing that? I was prepared to execute a man. Could I really live with that blood on my hands? I know he killed my sister and father, but was he actually a bad man? I can’t help but think there was another way to do this and now I don’t think we can ever go back. You know in all of the years, the treaties and agreements, disarmaments and land disputes, the Earps have never attacked the Svanes like this,” Wynonna spiraled.

“I think there were only a few possible outcomes to your situation. In his anger and bloodlust, Svane could have changed his mind, but considering the ultimatums he gave you that really didn’t seem like an option, you offer your line and give your people over to a new unstable rule, you give yourself over and he returns to eliminate your issue, or you fight back and rid of him.”

“But I didn’t do that. I could have just killed him right there and then, but… I wanted to make a spectacle of it. Am I as bad as Robert?”

“If Svane were to return in any capacity, what would you do?”

“I would offer an agreement to co-rule over this land.”

“Do you think he would accept that?”

“I don’t know,” Wynonna pondered.

“I don’t know either. For the first time, I feel rather lost. I have another lead to who I really am, but I feel like I’m floating around in the ocean like a bottle with a deadly message inside.”

“What have you found so far?”

“According to everyone I’ve asked, Bulshar is a dangerous man with an ever-growing cult that has massacred many important families back home. He knows Svane, according to the journals, and somehow, there’s a link to me.” Nicole wrapped the diaries back up and placed them in her satchel. “I’m going to take a break, I just need to clear my head. I suggest you do the same. You need to sleep and clear your mind if you plan on leading your people through this.”

“Maybe it’s just insomnia, but I’m already missing Robert. He made living here exciting,” Wynonna joked. “Hey, can you keep this between us? I don’t need people knowing their leader is weak.”

“You are not weak, Wynonna.”

“I feel weak, then.”

Nicole went to open the door, the lock getting in the way.

“It’s locked,” Earp informed her.

“Yup, I know.”

“It’s also pull not push when you’re ready,” she chuckled.

“You ass,” Nicole joked on her way out.

“I’m gonna take that as a compliment!”

“How is that a compliment?”

“Because I have a great one!”

Nicole shook her head with that vibrant smile as she walked down the now candle-lit hallway to her room. The afternoon sun set by her shoulder, casting bizarre shadows into the old manor. In the tranquil building, every emotion began to rear its ugly head. In all of her years arresting, fighting, and inevitably killing, Nicole had never felt so affected by her actions. It may have had to do with the sheer intimacy she had with the people she was not only fighting for but sleeping alongside. Her fears suddenly came back with the dwindling light and she no longer knew how to cope with the losses. Returning to her room, Waverly stood by her side of the bed, pulling up a bundle of bandages and a jar of salve.

“Hey, sweetie!” she brightly exclaimed. “I know you’re going to say you’re fine, but we should really bandage you back up.”

“Thank you,” Nicole smiled, dropping her satchel on the floor and locking their door.

She approached her partner, taking the objects out of her hands to embrace her. Waverly stumbled back for a moment before fully wrapping her arms around her, too. The youngest Lady of the castle clung to her, their hearts being the only sound besides the crackling fire.

She slipped her hands to the back of her nape and waist. “Are you okay?” Nicole let out a deep sigh and tucked her head further against her neck. “It’s going to be okay, whatever you’re worried about.”

“I know because you’re safe.” Haught pulled back enough to regard her deep Caribbean sea blue eyes. Her eyes darted around her features, wishing she had seen them their first time together. She tucked a stray hair back behind her ear and directed to the medical supplies, “Is it okay if we save this stuff for later?”

Waverly glanced at the items on the table. “Oh, yeah, of course.”

~

Nicole leaned over to blow out the candle, getting tugged down into another chaste kiss by her partner. She smiled against her lips and wrapped her hand around the back of her neck to play with the soft hairs at her nape. Her hands roamed back under Waverly’s jaw before finally pulling away and extinguishing the candle, now the only source of light being from the dim fireplace. She settled back into her place in bed, spooning against her side. Waiting proved more virtuous than she would have thought, even with their first encounter being slow and awkward in the dark.

“What have you learned about your past?” Waverly whispered into the quiet room.

“Eliza told me that his reach is far and effective, so I should be careful of whom I trust,” Nicole nonchalantly answered. “And now realizing that his reach is more permanent in this area than I had previously known, I’m not entirely sure who I can trust here.”

“Well, is Eliza herself trustworthy? What if she’s just making you run around in circles?”

“Well, if she isn’t worthy of trust, then who is? She worked on his case, so if anyone knows the unbiased facts, she would.”

“I’m just saying, his own spies may reach into the army.”

“Hm,” Nicole considered.

“Nicole?” a wary voice called with a brisk knock on the door. “It’s Wynonna, we need to talk. I know you’re awake still so get dressed and come to my office, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am,” she instinctively responded.

“Don’t,” Waverly quietly begged with an enticing kiss.

Between pecks, she chuckled, “I don’t want to anger your sister.” Pulling on her pants, Nicole shuffled around the dim room, taking her satchel with Robert’s diaries. “I swear I’ll be back in a couple of minutes, okay?” she promised with a firm tightening of her belt.

“Hair.”

“Oh, thank you,” Nicole responded with another brief peck as she pulled it in a tight regulation bun.

Haught escaped her room, quietly closing the door behind herself and walking down the candle-lit corridor to her friend’s office. She could hear hushed voices trickle down the hallway, their words completely unintelligible until she stood in the open doorway. Augustine, Seanan, and Gareth the apothecary standing in a semicircle behind the desk with Wynonna twiddling her thumbs in the corner. They all had stern faces, even their local tavern owner’s normally bright demeanor was far more severe than Nicole would have liked. Various situations raced through her head, maybe they were going to send her away? Did they not like her relationship with Waverly? Was Robert already back? Was she getting framed? The last scenario proved much closer to the issue they seemed to have.

“We were told that you got your hands on Robert Svane’s personal journals,” Augustine began.

“Yes, madam,” she confirmed.

“Would you please hand them over, young knight?”

Nicole began to reach into her satchel, then stopped, “Why?”

“Those are revolutionary contraband and must be destroyed,” Gareth nodded. Nicole furrowed her brows at his response as he was chastised by McCready.

“May I please hold onto these? I have some personal matters that these may appease. I swear only my eyes will see these words.”

“Knight Officer Haught, I am commanding you to hand them over,” Augustine repeated with an even more demanding tone. Her dark eyes were like a void, their severity thickening the tense air that already clouded the room. Nicole glanced at Wynonna for help, receiving no reaction to the scene unfolding before her. “There should be no hesitation to my order, soldier.”

“No.”

“Wynonna,” she shifted to her niece with an expectant nod.

She approached her friend, reaching for the satchel until Nicole tugged it out of reach. “Don’t do this, Nicole.”

“What is going on? Why can’t I study these? I just need a day with them, then they can be destroyed,” the young knight pleaded.

“We cannot trust that you may not copy them, Haught,” Gareth ruthlessly explained.

“This may be the only chance for me to find out who I am, please, just twenty-four hours, and I’ll destroy them in front of you.” Seanan glanced at Nicole with somber eyes before looking at his friends. “Shorty, please!”

“Wynonna,” Augustine commanded.

Doing as her aunt commanded, the older sister tugged at her satchel once more, trying to unbutton it to retrieve the books. Nicole shoved her away with a firm hand against her sternum before racing to the safety of her chambers. She heard loud footsteps echo down the corridor, gaining speed and encroaching upon her as Nicole fumbled with figuring out which door was hers.

“Nicole!” she hissed in the darkness. “Wait!” She firmly took her wrist and yanked her from the door. “Stop.”

“I need these, you know I do. It’s the only way I can find out who I am, what Bulshar has to do with me.”

“Stop,” she commanded in a louder tone. Wynonna glanced around their position and whispered, “Find some random journals to burn instead of Svane’s. I don’t understand their significance either, but obviously, there’s dirt in there about the Earps that they don’t want to see the light of day.”

“Fine, but I am not going to hand them over,” Nicole finished, rushing to the other side of her door and locking it. She rested her head against the old wood, waiting for Wynonna’s footsteps to fade away.

~~~~~~~~~~

Nicole walked down the main street, feeling as if everyone was looking at her. She clutched her satchel tightly, glancing at her surroundings to search for John. With the previous night’s concerning meeting, she wondered even more about Wynonna’s reflection if Robert was a purely bad person. He may have ruled his people as a dictator, but were his people or his action in the wrong? Haught pinched the bridge of her nose and continued to Shorty’s inn, catching Holliday playing dice. He and his opponent were playing for peanuts as the mere achievement of beating John Henry was enough to build a good rapport with the middleman. Nicole patiently waited for the game to end to question him.

Beating out yet another young farmer, John turned to his colleague, “Would you like to try your hand, dear knight?”

“I have some other things in mind. What do you know about the Revenants, who are their allies? Who were they as a people?”

“Are,” Holliday corrected, flipping his dice to show the same number of pips. “But this isn’t the safest place to talk about them. I swindled some extra coin, why don’t we share a pint. I think we all deserve a drink for the horrors we endured. What do you say?”

“I would say I need a beer,” she huffed, calling over the barmaid for a round of ale.

“Why the sudden interest?”

“Maybe I feel remorseful for the deaths we totalled.”

“I hope this doesn’t offend you, Dame Haught, but you would be terrible at poker.”

“It does, but it stands true,” she smirked as they were served. “I do, however, think that we may have made a mistake and now I am being scapegoated.”

“How?”

Nicole pondered how much she should divulge before answering, “I spoke with a few of the town's elders and now I may be a target of future harassment.”

“What do you suppose you’ll do about it?”

“I’m not sure.” Haught briefly paused and looked up at John. “I have many questions for you, Holliday.”

“Ask again in a more private venue,” he warned. “That is if it pertains to your initial question.”

“It does.”

“Day drinking, I see,” Wynonna interrupted. “Can I speak with you, Haught?”

“Can it wait until I’m done with this?”

“Yes,” she nodded, plucking the stein out of her hands and finishing it off for her. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Nicole huffed in annoyance. “I’ll be seeing you around, John.”

“I would hope so,” he briefly nodded as a new opponent came to try their hand.

“Did you really have to chug my beer, it was free.”

“Wait, I’ll explain later.”

“I miss when everything was public knowledge.”

Wynonna nodded in agreement as they silently walked to her office where she produced several old novels she had taken from various rooms in the manor.

“Hide Svane’s journals… somewhere and have these ones on hand for when we burn them,” she explained.

Nicole took the stack and asked, “Do you have any further explanation for why your aunt is so protective about these?”

“No, but I really do not want to be on her bad side, and neither should you.”

“Yeah, Lady McCready, is, uhh… fucking scary,” she agreed on her way out. “Thank you.”

Nicole went through her room and began tearing through the various bookcases to hide the real journals. She wrapped them up and placed them under the bed, now going back through their spots to blend them in with the other books. It was an obvious place but hidden well enough that even Nicole knew that she would have to search through the novels to find Svane’s. She popped up from her spot by the bed when Waverly entered, going straight to the wardrobe.

“My dear Orsino,” she called out, making Waverly jump.

“Oh! What are you doing? Wait, you’re sober right? Not playing drunk hide-n-seek again?”

“Sober, yes. Are you going somewhere?”

“Yes, I was going out for a ride, would you like to join me?” she invited, approaching her partner.

“I wish I could,” Nicole smiled, standing back up and pecking her. “But I still need to talk with John, you know, figure out some truths… but maybe another day.”

“Okay, I’m going to hold you to that, then.”

“I hope you will,” she smiled, anxiety finally leaving her system when Waverly wrapped her arms around her waist. Nicole took a deep breath even as her heart fluttered when she glanced down to peck her forehead. “But I must speak with John, so I would love to help you get ready and ride out of town.”

“Is he expecting you at a specific time?”

Nicole sucked her teeth then remarked, “No, he is not, Gary isn’t needing your assistance any time soon?” Waverly backed away to lock their door with a cheeky grin on her lips. “Alright then.”

~

“Are you sure you need to go?” Waverly bargained

“While I would love to spend all day with you, I really do want to get some answers out of Holliday,” her partner blushed even as she was trapped between the desk, hands still gently meandering over her ribs and chest. Coaxed into another amorous kiss, Nicole chuckled against her lips as she was pressed into the desk again. “Okay, okay, I need to leave before it gets dark.”

They dressed back into their outer clothes, Waverly now dawned in her riding attire. “Just a quick question, because I hate to ruin a moment, but are you okay? You seemed a bit shaken by last night’s… whatever that was.”

“Yes, I’m fine,” Nicole affirmed, slinging the satchel over her shoulder and standing before the door. “I love you, just so you know.”

“I love you, too.”

“I mean it,” she smiled on her way out.

“Wait, I thought you were going to ride out with me?”

“Another time.”

She found her way back through the manor and to the main street, spotting John talking with a young bath maid. Nicole felt a sudden tug on her shoulder, making her wheel around, face to face with the reigning lady of their land. Wynonna had a firm grasp on the satchel, looking up with a weirdly calm demeanor. Haught pulled the satchel back with surprising difficulty.

“What are you doing?” she questioned with another tug.

“Staging a fight,”

[mithranqueersmusings]

The Night Before X

Chapter: 10/15

Rating: T

Summary: Ringo hangs around after the club closes and meets a stranger.

Tags: Smut, Slow Burn

Pairing: George Harrison/Ringo Starr (Background McLennon)

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

Morning seemed to arrive suddenly without much warning, Ringo pressed his head down onto the pillow and before he knew it several hours had passed. He felt far more refreshed than he'd been expecting, but the mess in the living room was enough to remind him of last night's antics. George woke up relatively soon after Ringo, enjoying the cups of tea Ringo made for the both of them. They didn't speak much, but Ringo felt there wasn't anything that needed to be said, they just enjoyed one another's company as they trudged through their waning hangovers.

The two of them recounted the night fondly over pieces of toast, not wasting much time before they headed over to reclaim George's abandoned attire. The host of the party, whom neither of them recognised, gave them a strange look as they returned the shirt and shoes. Apparently nothing major had happened with the police, seemingly they just wanted to scare everybody off. Ringo feigned being annoyed at the prospect, but in reality he couldn't have been happier with how the night had turned out.

Returning to Ringo's, George hopped into the shower once again. Ringo began clearing up, which consisted mostly of chucking everything into a bin bag which was left in the kitchen to be dealt with later. While he waited for George to finish he finally responded to John's texts.

sorry i didn't see these im still with george

you really are obsessed with him aren't you??

no comment

well good for you rings its about time you got some

thanks dad

you wanna come over later?? paul wants to get a chinese

sounds good to me

be sure to bring all the juicy details about your juicy date

it wasn't a date

was it juicy????

shut up ill see you later

It wasn't long after Ringo put his phone down that George had reappeared, fully dressed with his hair slightly damp.

"Hey, I don't want you to think I'm running out on you or anything..." George began.

"But you're gonna run out on me." Ringo completed with a grin.

"Yes." George chuckled "I had a great time though, really. Thanks for everything, you're an absolute saint."

"My pleasure." Ringo couldn't help feeling a little sad, knowing that they'd soon be apart "Do you want a lift back?"

"No, no, you've done more than enough already." George fiddled with the zip on his jacket.

They looked at one another for a few moments before Ringo broke the silence "Can I see you again? Preferably sober, but I'm flexible."

George laughed "Sure... I'm a little busy these next few days but I'll let you know. I've got your number."

"Alright well I guess I'll see you later, then." Ringo smiled solemnly.

"See you later." George repeated, turning to leave but stopping for a moment "Let me know how much I owe you for those chips."

"Oh, sure." Ringo nodded "They were alright then?"

"I've had better." George smiled "Next time I'll chose where we eat."

Ringo said nothing more, just widening his smile a little as George made his way out of the flat. Ringo tried to keep his spirits light, focusing on the day ahead. At least George seemed genuine about wanting to see each other again, Ringo could hold onto that for a while at least.

He headed straight back to bed, an easy way of making time pass before he could see John and Paul. Most of the remaining time he spent cleaning, just to make the time pass. Having a moment of weakness, he picked up the shirt George had discarded and brought it to his nose to smell. It only made him miss George all the more, but he tried to think of another things as he tidied up the mass of clothes cascaded around the room. It was a difficult balance of remaining positive without being too optimistic about his relationship with George, yet he didn't want to try too hard to be realistic and confront the fact that it was very possible that nothing more would come from their time together. It was hard to deny that their connection felt far too special for it to mean nothing at all, but Ringo had read the signs wrong many a time in the past.

Ringo hurried over to John and Paul's as soon as he could. They'd been living together for a couple of years now and it wasn't unknown for Ringo to stay there for several days at a time just because of how homely it would feel. Paul opened the door, happiness spreading across his face, stepping aside to let Ringo into their warm home. John was waiting in the living room, sprawled out on the sofa like a relaxed feline, hardly moving when he noticed Ringo other than giving a grin and a small nod.

"Here he is, man of the hour." John announced, Paul sweeping his feet up so that he could sit on the end of the sofa.

Ringo took a seat across, stretching his legs over the arm in a way he knew would be terrible for his posture "Feels like I haven't seen you guys for ages."

"Well you've been busy, haven't you?" Paul teased, the smile still spreading his lips.

"Tell us all about it, I know you want to." John waved his hand dismissively, but his expression was kind.

"Come off it." Paul laughed "John's been going on about you and that George bloke for days, he's been dying to know everything."

Ringo shifted himself to get comfortable "Well... What do you wanna know?" He couldn't help feeling a little shy when talking to Paul and John about his various relationships.

John sat himself up excitedly, blurting out with little to no shame "How big is his dick?"

Ringo spluttered into laughter "Jesus, John... Why would that even matter? My bottoming days are long behind me."

Paul joined in with the laughter "How did that party go? I know you were freaking out about it."

"It was alright in the end. Some bird tried cornering me and the police showed up and everyone scattered." Ringo recounted "But we still had enough time to enjoy ourselves, if you catch my drift."

John scoffed "We're not teenagers, Rings, I want details. Who's blowing who? Is he freaky? Is he half in good in bed as he is hot? I need to know!"

Ringo rolled his eyes playfully "You're right, John, you're not a teenager you're practically prepubescent."

"Let Ringo get settled first. There'll be plenty of time to spill the beans later." Paul spoke softly, mindlessly giving John's feet a massage as he spoke.

"Not over dinner I hope." Ringo chuckled.

"In all seriousness though, it's nice to see you so happy again. Isn't it John?" Paul pinched John's ankle to spark a reaction.

"Yes, yes, we're so happy that you're happy." John spoke as though reading from a script "Now I'm gonna ask you something point blank, and I need you to be honest with me."

Ringo's heart fluttered in panic "What is it?"

John furrowed his brows in an attempt to appear serious "Did he blow you in the toilets?"

"Uh..." Ringo laughed, unable to find his words "I don't-"

"Before you even try to deny it," John interrupted, holding his finger up "I saw the marks on his knees, and I'd know those marks anywhere."

"Why're you asking me then?" Ringo threw his arms up defeated "You think I'm gonna say no to a guy like that offering me a blowie in the toilets?"

John clapped his hands together loudly "I knew it! You absolute whore, Ringo, what would your mother say?"

"Don't act like I haven't caught you and Paul in the exact same position countless times." Ringo sat up a little, desperate to defend himself.

"Hey now, don't bring me into this." Paul interjected "Those days are long behind me."

John cocked an eyebrow, making Ringo snicker "Well now you're just lying, love."

The three of them remained relaxed in the living room for a couple of hours, every so often it would become playfully heated as either John or Ringo slipped up in their words. They never needed to have very solid plans when seeing one another, Ringo could happily stay chatting with them for an entire day and he wouldn't feel like a single second was wasted. It helped get his mind off his worries about George, although the conversations always seemed to lead back to him in one way or another. John's questions only became more prying, not even holding back when they'd settled down to eat some Chinese food. Throughout their conversations Ringo tried to gauge whether Paul and John seemed to like George, though there was little to go off other than their very brief meeting and how they'd respond to Ringo's stories. Whenever he'd started seeming someone new, their dynamic with his two best friends was always in the back of Ringo's mind.

"Well maybe one of these days we could go on a double date or something." Paul suggested, crunching on a prawn cracker.

"That'd be nice." Ringo mumbled, not bothering to cover his mouth while he ate "We haven't really been on a date though yet. Not a proper one anyway."

"But you've fucked him, right?" John asked with a grin.

"You know I have John, so why are you asking?" Ringo felt like throttling him sometimes.

"I just wanna hear you say it." John winked at him "Here I was thinking it was slutty to shag on the first date, but you didn't even wait. Was it just the once?"

Ringo glared at him, but it was impossible to keep up the act of annoyance "Are you trying to make me hate you?"

"I'm just making sure I've got the whole picture, that's all." John teased, Paul slapping him on the wrist lightly.

"I don't ask about your sex life with Paul." Ringo said far more harshly than he'd intended.

"God, I wish you would." John perked up "We tried this new toy the other day-"

"John, I suggest you think very hard about whether you want to finish that sentence." Paul raised both his eyebrows impatiently, it was enough to make John shut up, the only person who seemed capable of such a feat.

All three of them were laughing again soon enough, a moment of tension never lasted too long. Time flew by with none of them keeping track of it, and soon enough Ringo had to retire back to his own flat, which was now seeming very empty indeed. He chucked his keys onto the coffee table and sunk into the sofa, debating how he was going to waste the hours before it would be acceptable to sleep. He had to work in the upcoming days, it was coming up to two years now that he'd been employed at a music shop in the city centre, it was decent pay and only relatively taxing so Ringo knew he could have it a lot worse, but it definitely wasn't something he looked forward to. Deciding to mindlessly scroll through his phone for a while, it suddenly vibrated with a text message from George.

I know it's a little early to make plans but I'm here to make plans

what did you have in mind?

Ringo wasted no time in responding, he didn't see the point of pretending that he hadn't been staring at his screen as soon as it had sent, even if he hadn't been he would've no doubt picked the phone up immediately.

Dinner and then back to my place?

that sounds delightful

Is this Friday good?

very good

Perfect I'll pick you up It's about time I started treating you

im not gonna say no to that

A smile spread across Ringo's face, Friday felt like a lifetime away but the promise of this date would be more than enough to get him through the week.

My treat so you better not bring your wallet

if you insist

I do

any other orders?

So many But they can wait I'll see you Friday

see you then

Ringo let his phone drop onto his chest, letting out a happy sigh. Things seemed to be going too well, but he wasn't going to let his paranoia get the better of him, rather he was going to bask in this seemingly endless happiness that George brought to his life. Friday couldn't come soon enough.

[scottymcgeesterwrites]

10 Underrated Movies of the 2010s

1. John Carter (2012)

Before Snow White and the Seven Dwarves was even produced in 1937, Disney was considering producing an adaptation of Edgar Rice Burrough’s A Princess of Mars as Disney’s first animated film. During its pre-production stage, producers weren’t quite receptive to the concept. The story was about a man being transported to Mars, where its gravity gave him super powers, and he fought with four-armed green-skinned aliens. Back then, space ideas were the last things on people’s minds in the ‘30’s. They wanted something uplifting from The Great Depression. Disney didn’t quite scrap the story; they shelved it for later and decided to go with Snow White and the Seven Dwarves as Disney’s (and the world’s) first feature-length animated movie. John Carter holds the award for the movie with the longest time spent in “development hell”. For the next 75 years, different directors and producers would try to bring back the classic tale of daring-do on the planet Mars. Growing up reading Edgar Rice Burrough’s novels, I was enthralled to hear that they finally produced a live-action film to be released on 2012 – and it was even near my birthday! March of 2012 marked 100 years since Edgar Rice Burroughs published A Princess of Mars. It was like all the stars were truly aligned for something great. The movie finally came out and it . . . didn’t do well at all. It’s also notable for being one of the most expensive movies ever made – and it was all for nothing. What happened? Most of you reading this may even be unaware of the hero John Carter or A Princess of Mars. I find that the main issue was the problem of John Carter being largely unknown because it has been long overshadowed by Flash Gordon, Superman, Star Trek, Star Wars, Battlestar Galactica, and literally everything else that owes its inspiration to John Carter. Superman got its concept of gravity-granting superpowers from John Carter. Flash Gordon got its human-on-another-planet heroics from John Carter. Star Wars derived nearly everything from Flash Gordon. The domino effect goes on. The further you go, the more people forget the original inspiration, and we live in a world now where people don’t really care about who did it first, but who did it best.

There’s a particular scene in the movie John Carter where the titular hero has to fight monsters in an arena. Many critics were bored of the scene, claiming they saw it already in Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones; which is ironic being that the arena scene was written almost a full century before Attack of the Clones. Scantily clad Carrie Fisher in Return of the Jedi? That’s a Deja Thoris reference from A Princess of Mars.

It can be difficult to judge a movie or story by itself aside from other derivative works. When that source material is some obscure adventure tale that is literally older than World War I, you should realize that probably not a lot of people have heard about it nowadays.

The film suffers from two other major points: the runtime and the combination of books one and two of Burrough’s original trilogy. A Princess of Mars is a rather simple tale of a man saving a princess on Mars. Its sequel, The Gods of Mars, goes into more complex matters as the evil Therns are revealed as a group of mysterious aliens controlling all culture and life on Mars for their benefit. The movie John Carter tries to combine the two, and I see why. Modern audiences are uninterested in seeing another adventure tale about a guy saving a princess. Ironically, that would have worked much better in the 1930’s, but the Disney board at the time was like, “Space? What’s that? Mars? What’s this newfangled spaceship business?” John Carter ultimately had the unfortunate and unique experiences of being both too ahead and too dated for its time.

I still highly recommend it because the production value is amazing and it’s still highly entertaining. The score is fantastic (Michael Giacchino), and the performances are great, albeit with some cheesy dialogue. The screenwriters added more depth to the character of John Carter that really pulls some heartstrings, especially during one particular scene where he’s bashing hundreds of aliens to a pulp.Unfortunately, the poor performance of John Carter prevented its sequel and the planned trilogy from ever being produced. At the end of the day, I’m still content with seeing the world’s very first space adventure that ultimately inspired Star Wars finally put on screen. 2. Solo: A Star Wars Story (2018)

I was frankly surprised when nobody else cared about a Solo movie coming out. Having read A.C. Crispin’s Han Solo Trilogy when I was a kid and having overall grown up loving the character, I thought ANY Star Wars fan would be pumped. That was the issue right away before the movie even hit theaters – Nobody. Fucking. Cared. The previous year’s Last Jedi left a sour, divisive taste in the Star Wars fandom. Toxic fans threw their hands in uproar and an entire debacle unseen since the prequel trilogy exploded. Like with Jake Lloyd in The Phantom Menace, fans had continually harassed and bullied Kelly Marie Tran for playing Rose to the point where she quit Instagram. YouTube videos nearly 30 minutes long were dedicated to bashing the film and “SJW culture” and “virtue signaling”. The entire debacle was a nightmare that makes me shudder to even think about. It was like everyone was tired of Star Wars by the next year. Some people like to say that “Star Wars fatigue” wasn’t the thing because nobody was tired of Marvel movies. I disagree. First of all, I witnessed immediate responses to people’s reactions at the trailer. They said “I don’t care” and “Why do we need that?”. Second, Star Wars and Marvel are two completely different universes. Marvel has a nearly infinite range of various stories with various atmospheres and moods and characters. One Marvel fan can “specialize” in Doctor Strange while another mostly loves Thor. Star Wars follows the same group of characters over the same damn story that we’ve already known for the past 42 years. Like John Carter, Solo had the same problem by being too confident and throwing too much money into its production. Solo also happens to be on the list of the most expensive movies ever made. Its poor performance and inability to make a return on the total costs scrapped the possibility of any more future standalone Star Wars films. Further dissections of why it didn’t work out vary. Some people hate the droid L3-37 and claim unnecessary SJW content. I disagree with that too. In my rulebook, something in a story is not unnecessary unless it proves crucial to the plot; L3-37 is the reason why the Kessel Run worked. Were it not for her fanatic desire of starting a droid revolution, Han wouldn’t have survived. The idea of revolution is also crucial and foreshadows the coming Rebel Alliance. I wonder if people would have had the same reaction to L3-37 if the movie had been released years before the current political situation; if we would have just seen her as a cool, kooky and rebellious droid instead. Solo: A Star Wars Story reveals that Han has always been around instances of rebellion, which he has tried to ignore. It isn’t until A New Hope that he finally gives in for good. I honestly don’t see why some people say it doesn’t fit with A New Hope when it clearly does. One of my favorite parts is when Q’ira tells Han, “I know who you really are.” From the trailer, you would expect her to say “A scoundrel.” But in the film, she says, “The good guy.” The film cements the idea that Han has always tried to look and act cool but deep down he gives in to doing the right thing, which separates him from the other scoundrels at the cantina. It’s because of this adventure that he ends up helping to blow up the Death Star later on. Also, like John Carter, the score is absolutely fantastic. I could go on about it but that would derail the topic for another time. 3. The Gift (2015)

I ended up seeing this movie on a whim by myself after someone bailed on me at the last minute to hang out. I had nothing to do but wanted to do something and checked what was playing in theaters at the time at my local theater. The synopsis hadn’t told me enough about what was really going on while at the same time enticing me. Jason Bateman though really surprised me in this role.I really don’t want to give anything away other than what you can find on the basic synopsis. Jason Bateman is married to Rebecca Hall and the two share a completely content life, until an old school friend of Jason’s starts visiting them. Joel Edgerton plays the school friend, and it’s quite amazing that he both wrote and directed this film too. 4. Prisoners (2013)

This movie was great – and absolutely nobody talks about it. I recall wanting to see a movie with my mom around fall of that year. We realized there was really nothing interesting in theaters. It was a lull where there was nothing really interesting playing. No blockbusters and no Oscar buzz. We chose Prisoners solely based on the fact that we like Hugh Jackman and Jake Gyllenhaal, and I guess we also gathered the general sense that it was a mystery.I became glued to the screen during the entire movie. The story revolves around Hugh Jackman’s daughter supposedly abducted by Paul Dano, who plays a mentally ill suspect. Jake Gyllenhaal plays the detective tasked with finding the daughter. With Paul Dano being unable to articulate his thoughts, everyone is left distraught on how to solve this case. Hugh Jackman and Jake Gyllenhaal take drastically different routes in trying to find the girl.Out of everything on my list of underrated films here, this was the most nail-biting. Highly recommend. That ending. Whoo. 5. Source Code (2011)

This movie is a real mindbender. It might be so much of a mindbender that it’s the reason why people didn’t talk about it more. They probably just thought, “Huh?” and wanted to rewatch the previous year’s Inception again instead.Jake Gyllenhaal is on a mission to find a bomber on a train in a computer simulation. That’s how it starts at least. . .   Another movie I probably shouldn’t explain too much, but it explored themes about a post 9/11 world and the nature of self. 6. The Big Short (2015)

This movie was a hit and then everybody forgot about it. Heck, I know a bunch of you didn’t even see it. I find this really concerning. Brought to you by the director of none other than Anchorman, Adam McKay directed a very entertaining but distressing take on the Great Recession. It has an ensemble cast of Brad Pitt, Steve Carrell, Ryan Gosling, and Christian Bale. The movie manages to translate complicated, bullshit concepts in Wall Street into layman’s terms. Every performance delivers, yes, but it was also staggeringly prophetic in what would come a year later in the 2016 election – “I have a feeling, in a few years people are going to be doing what they always do when the economy tanks. They will be blaming immigrants and poor people.” This movie should have seriously started a riot. But it didn’t. Watch it. 7. Spectre (2015)

Many Bond fans hated Spectre, and it’s often compared to the supposed high-and-mighty Skyfall. I beg to differ. Spectre brought back the fun in Bond without also resorting to the really obnoxious misogyny. The Daniel Craig era of Bond films went back to Ian Fleming’s original intention of Bond being more of a “blunt instrument” than the tongue-in-cheek action hero he came to be known in the film series. And that’s okay. But you can’t help but be bored once and a while by the recent trend of “making things gritty in the new millennium”. Spectre brought back the evil Blofeld, Bond’s nemesis. Fans hated it because this movie implies that every other Daniel Craig movie has been tied to Spectre, ruining the standalone nature of Skyfall and feeling like Spectre was a shoe-in.

This situation requires a lot of explaining, but I’ll be brief.

The creative entities of Spectre and Blofeld were tied up in a copyright battle for almost half a century. Back when Ian Fleming was still alive, he was working on a script for Thunderball with a screenwriter named Kevin McClory. Long story short, there was a dispute on who created Spectre and Blofeld – Fleming or McClory. McClory won the dispute and MGM (the producers of the Bond films) were prohibited from using the names and characters of Spectre and Blofeld.

The last time we officially saw the character in name was in 1971’s Diamonds are Forever. Blofeld made a cameo in 1981’s For Your Eyes Only but was never mentioned by name, but you knew it was Blofeld because he was always the man with the white cat. McClory did eventually make his own version of Thunderball in 1983’s Never Say Never Again, which was an unofficial Bond movie yet it still starred Sean Connery (crazy, I know).

Fast-forward to when the Daniel Craig era started in 2006 with Casino Royale. Spectre and Blofeld were still under copyright protection of McClory. Instead of using the name Spectre, the writers had to come up with another Specter-inspired evil corporation. So they came up with “Quantum”, the evil company behind the plots of Casino Royale and Quantum of Solace.

BUT THEN, the McClory estate officially settled the matter with MGM in 2013, and Spectre and Blofeld could now be used. The writers jumped on it and that’s why to some Spectre feels like it was a shoehorned at the last minute.In my opinion, Skyfall had more issues being a standalone film. The villain Silva was supposed to be working alone and yet somehow create all these elaborate, time-sensitive plots that was just too much for one man with maybe a few henchmen to pull off. In Spectre, it’s implied that Silva used Spectre’s resources to help him plan his revenge. This would realistically make more sense. After all, it’s in the name: SPecial Executive for Counter-intelligence, Terrorism, Revenge, and Extortion. One would go to Spectre in order to enact revenge on someone if one didn’t have the means or resources.

And the whole Quantum being a part of Spectre thing – so what? Quantum was meant to be the same thing anyway. Lastly, there is some dispute on to the nature of Blofeld’s relationship with Bond. Bond suddenly has an evil foster brother now? Some complained about it. I thought it was fine. It gives a reason for Blofeld to go out of his way to torture Bond rather than just shoot him, which is a point always parodied in Bond spoofs. So again, it actually makes sense. I thoroughly enjoyed Spectre. It was virtually not misogynist out of the new Bond films. It treated the main girl, Madeline, very well, as well as the “other” girl Lucia. Yeah, some of the action is dumb and more out of spectacle than realism. It’s still done with the same wit and style of the old Bond films. 8. Shazam! (2019)

Yeah. I get it. Everyone’s tired of the god-awful, insipid DC Cinematic Universe (except for Wonder Woman), which pales in comparison to the Marvel Cinematic Universe. But Shazam! was finally a very fresh, funny, and lively DC movie. What makes it stand out to me was how it ended up revolving around the main character’s friends standing together with him, rather than just simply being an origin story of one superhero. Nothing felt like it fell flat. The humor was spot on. The action was good. You had a really pained, terrible villain. Some of the plot may be simple but it had a satisfying ending. Shazam! has the same kind of energy as Spider-man: Homecoming, but by doing its own thing and having its own theme of what a family really means. It revels in the genre by literally putting you in the shoes of a child’s wish fulfillment. 9. Safety Not Guaranteed (2012)

I saw this movie on a whim on Netflix. Nobody has made any fuss about it. I think it was fantastic. It’s a quirky sci-fi comedy with Aubrey Plaza playing a newspaper reporter investigating an ad someone put in the classifieds asking for a time travel companion. She goes along with two other co-workers, played by Jake Johnson and Karan Soni (who later becomes the taxi guy in Deadpool). I have to be honest – I don’t find Jake Johnson that funny. In most things I’ve seen him in, I feel like his reactions are forced. But his deadpan deliveries in this movie are on the spot. Mark Duplass was still relatively unknown at this time, and played the oddball guy who placed the ad and firmly believes he made a time machine. The entire movie only costed $750,000! Movies today need to spend over $10 million in order to try and make something as compelling as this. This movie alone influenced the modern indie film industry by combining forces with Netflix. Maybe Netflix and chill wouldn’t have been a thing if it weren’t for this movie. 10. The Nice Guys (2016)

I saved my personal favorite for last. The Nice Guys is my favorite underrated movie that I have seen this past decade. It has everything I love in a buddy film; wit and style. Written and directed by Shane Black, this movie has some real zingers and hilarious deliveries. Ryan Gosling plays a jittery private detective, who unwillingly teams up with Russel Crowe, who beats up people for a living. The story revolves around a missing girl who is a key witness to a grander conspiracy involving the automobile industry. This is one of those movies that never fails to make me laugh. I can rewatch the same scenes over and over and still crack up with laughter. My only gripe is that the final confrontation can be a bit unrealistic at times, which can be close to breaking that border of “Okay, is this witty satire like Coen Brothers or just outright comedy sketch like The Naked Gun?” So to me it felt a little imbalanced in the last quarter. Still, the rest of the movie really hits the right marks.

[shepaintsred]

Words for Bill

December 17, 2020

As I write these words down on this page, a flock of geese has gone over the house, voicing a baleful good-bye to autumn and a welcome to the dark winter months. For William Harvey Webb, W.H. Webb, Bill, the winter road was a significant metaphor. Through the years, if we stopped and looked at the details etched into those crisp winter tracks, we were to discover more than just snow; the light reflecting off of the raised edges and the shadows pouring into the deepest hollows of the tread marks, but also, we were to discover rich histories; family, friends, conversations, laughter and tears.

Welcome to those of you who have come to share in this tribute, today.  Let us, in our imaginations, include and leave some space for so many others who want to be here with us. Bill was so well-loved and there are so many that he loved in return

You can’t see him, but standing by my side, is one of Bill’s closest friends, Richard Dawson and over there, seated near his friends, Brock and Elaine, is his wife, Shirley. Richard brings to this gathering a lifetime of shared narratives and so, at times and with his permission, he will nudge me, and I will share the odd one.

My name is Kathleen Moors.  Bill called me Katie.  Bill and I have shared a magical friendship and this is an honour to be with the people who meant so much to him.

Bill was no stranger to loss in his life.  When son, Michael, died, Bill was devastated and felt helpless.  Perhaps now he can offer comfort to the son he loved so much.

To Bill’s family; Amanda and Wade, Gaylene, Andrew and family of Northern Ireland; brother, Bob and wife, Shirley as well as his five beautiful grandchildren; we offer our sadness, our support, and our love.

I will NOT soon forget how animated Bill became at the mention of time spent with his grandchildren, particularly when they were able to share dates out to live theater or musical performances.  Bill was a real gentleman and always dressed up for such occasions.  He saw events as spectacles.  

Bill was a romantic and a gentleman.  He grew houseplants.  He loved any animal that came his way.  He adored Ginger and Blackie…and Teva…and they loved him.  There was never a dinner prepared that did not involve a remarkable place setting and candles.  I remember Bill leading me to the outskirts of Edmonton after the celebratory festivities following the Alberta Centennial exhibit hosted by the West End Galleries. He did this so that there would be no chance that I would lose my way

Bill did not own a computer.  He was the most ‘unplugged’ person I know, relying on the library for the occasion of checking electronic mail.  He didn’t access television or cable, but did watch movies, his good friend, Brock, often sending them from Moose Jaw.  The sound of opera would often fill his nest with beautiful voices, something that he shared with good friend, John Oberg when John would slip over to Bill’s place or Bill would show up at John’s, the brushes cleaned up and put away for another night.

Bill was an educator.

Richard nudges… “when jobs were scarce in Oldham, England, Bill and his new family moved to Canada and a teaching job in Fort McMurray.  Then it was on to Castor where he was principal, then principal in Grand Cache, Alberta.  Next it was Superintendent of Schools in St. Paul and later Wainwright.”

While giving this all up, to Sheep Farm in Heath, Alberta, Bill never stopped being an educator.  He taught Sunday School for several years, creating dioramas and long rolls fed through makeshift television sets…he was an amazing orator, as well, feeling very comfortable speaking in front of any group.  He volunteered, teaching art at various grade levels and I’m certain that the children were, every time, excited to see him.

Bill was an amazing listener.  He was not one to busy his hands when you spoke to him.  He looked straight at you and gave you complete attention, asking the most interesting questions that, indeed, gave you every reason to believe that you mattered, you were his entire world at that very moment.  In the busyness of food preparation, I sometimes looked over my shoulder and saw Bill listening to one of my children and I wondered, “If only I could do that!”

Bill loved reading, especially history and non-fiction, but if you suggested a book, he would inevitably pick it up at the library or purchase the title so that he could give a ‘book report’ as he called them or he might even write out his book reports and post them in the mail.

Bill loved to dance. I never got to dance with Bill. This was a moment, lost.

Bill loved connection. He was a part of the Film Society whose members included Rick and Lyn, Mary-Lou, Carol and Noreen Getzlaf, Linda Wheaton and a long list of others.  Richard says that in the group, when the beverages came out, Richard was the only one not drinking….to this day, he ponders, now chuckles about whether they welcomed him to meetings for the rich variety of film OR because inevitably, he served as designated driver!

Bill spilled over with excitement about the Wine Club events, the garden parties and the brunches hosted at John Oberg’s.  I wasn’t ever a member of the Snake Trail Alpine Club, but that, too, grew a culture and history all its own. I went on numerous walks and hikes, with Bill and you probably did, as well. Bill had a marvelous connection with the landscape and conversations were had where all we did was analyze the sky, the shadows they cast on the land…observations that might seem unremarkable to most.

Bill loved all things related to trains and had huge dreams about drawing travelers into Forestburg by creating something very special around art, trains and community. He loved talking about the process of constructing all of the unique bits that went into building the landscape elements.  He was such a master at everything he took on!

Bill explained in his letters just how much he treasured it when someone was sitting back in his big comfy chair while he painted…I think we’ve all taken a place in that chair, but most treasured for their visits would be Rose and Virginia, I think.  Oh my. The stories Bill would share over the telephone about the encouragement that was given.

Bill enjoyed the company of so many.  The RB3 Richard Dawson, Bruce Beck, Brock Chrysler and Bill Webb!  He enjoyed seeing the guys whenever possible, but also really treasured their telephone conversations over so many years.

Bill was a health-conscious person.  He didn’t hesitate to share his journey as it related to the body or the emotions.

Richard Nudges…

Richard writes WW2 stories and he did an in-depth one on the Dam-Busters Raid, focusing on the 3 men from Moose Jaw and District who were on the Raid.

He completed it and the RCAF scheduled a little show and flag ceremony on the anniversary of the Western Development Museum. All systems were go.

Then Richard got a call from Bill. He was having knee replacement surgery and would Richard come to Forestburg and help out. So, Richard assigned his Dam-Buster Project to a most capable young man at the WDM and off he went.

Bill saw his recovery from the surgery as another competition and did all his exercise and activities. Before going to Forestburg Richard made clear that he would not be helping Bill with bathroom chores. If he needed to take a dump – he was on his own.  (Don’t forget…these are Richard’s words!  Lol I can just imagine these two guys laughing about this.)

He was an excellent patient. Richard cooked and they both put on a few pounds.

After five days he was able to get around just fine and Richard headed home to Moose Jaw.

On the second knee surgery he was able to stay with Amanda and Wade and they nursed him back to health.

Regarding his health, Bill consulted with the professionals with great enthusiasm and followed all directives when it came to achieving a healthy balance in his life.  He filled countless journals and developed the habit as a way of working through difficult times.  He was exceptional at keeping archives of events and didn’t miss a detail because…

Bill was a detail guy.

Bill’s approach to painting was incredible.  He set up his studio so that it was very spare.  He was not one for clutter or distraction when he needed to focus. He and I used to joke about blending our studios and agreed that it might never work because our spaces are so different from one another. He lovingly left voice messages, “This is Bill of the Northern Studio, checking in with Katie of the Southern Studio.

First steps to a painting involved airbrushing his sky.  From there, he delved into the world of darkest values and from the very onset, Bill used miniscule brushes.  He built incredible worlds as he came forward in space, with lighter and lighter values.  He was technical and deliberate.  His works are dreamscapes of places a lot of us know, but rarely analyze the way that Bill did.  Whether it was a huge vista of the Livingston Range or those ruts on a country road in winter, he paid the subject the same attention and care. He was prolific, painting right up until the last weeks before he died.  He felt responsible to his dealers and spoke often about his professional relationships with them. Over time, these people came to be very personal friends and extremely important to him.

Richard Nudges…

“One of Richard’s last official acts for Bill was attending the Memorial for William (Bill) Shurniak at the Shurniak Gallery in Assiniboia. Bill died August 8, 2020 and the memorial was open – at the Gallery and individual.

Bill and Richard visited the Shurniack Gallery many times and if Bill Shurniack was there, they visited him. He was still active on the Board of Husky Energy in Calgary and was still travelling regularly to Hong Kong.

As Richard sat in the Gallery, listening to the music, he could see a Group of Severn painting over his right shoulder. It is a painting of Cowley, Alberta, although, I think – called Pincher Creek Station.

When his meditation was complete, he signed the registry for himself and also signed Bill’s name. Richard called him from the car and he was very appreciative I had done that.”

Painting was such a great joy to Bill.  He and I spoke to one another endlessly about our work, supporting one another and challenging one another.  In his letters, he always began with what he was working on and ended with what he was going to go and work on next.  I am so proud of W.H.Webb, the painter.  He worked so hard.  The art community is going to miss such a gentleman as Bill, such a magnificent artist, driven with a passion for capturing the spectacular views that so many of us love.

Bill’s vision.

This eulogy has not written itself easily.  I was writing and writing and deleting and writing again, simply because I felt that if I stopped and the words wrapped up and came to an end, it would mean that my friend is truly gone.  I realize through much losing these last years, that if we truly love our family and our friends, they will remain.  I have to trust that this is the case here as well.

I wrote the final words on the page…Bill’s Vision.

What would Bill want you to know…or to realize…by his life and it being entwined with yours and I am left as I began, with the sound of the geese….and an image.  Consider these a gift today, that you loved this absolutely precious and beautiful soul.  And keep him with you.

 Wild Geese by Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body

love what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

are moving across the landscapes,

over the prairies and the deep trees,

the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,

are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -

over and over announcing your place

in the family of things.

[thecoleopterawithana]

When you were young and your heart was an open book

Don’t Let Me Down | Paul’s Upbringing

John, because of his upbringing and his unstable family life, had to be hard, witty, always ready for the cover-up, ready for the riposte, ready with the sharp little witticism. Whereas with my rather comfortable upbringing, a lot of family, lot of people, very northern, ‘Cup of tea, love?’, my surface grew to be easy-going. Put people at their ease. Chat to people, be nice, it’s nice to be nice.

— Paul McCartney, in Barry Miles’ Many Years From Now (1997).

Paul grew up in the warm embrace of a loving family. There was hardship, certainly: they were definitely working-class, and the war had been unkind to the cotton exchange business, so it fell on mother Mary to be the main bread-winner of the family, as a domiciliary housewife. Her nursing job also made it so they were always on the move, from one new outskirt council estate to the next, “always on the edge of the world” that was the rebuilding of a war-torn Liverpool. But despite this surrounding instability, the core of the family itself was a safe harbour of reliably loving parents.

I got my compassion for people from my mother. She was a midwife. I think that would probably be the most important quality. Again, respect and caring for others.

— Paul McCartney, interview w/ Jonathan Wingate for Record Collector: Paul McCartney gets back to work (July 2007).  

[My mum] was very kind, very loving. There was a lot of sitting on laps and cuddling. She was very cuddly. I think I was very close to her. My brother thinks he was a little closer, being littler. I would just be trying to be a bit more butch, being the older one. She liked to joke and had a good sense of humour and she was very warm. There was more warmth than I now realise there was in most families. [...] They aspired to a better life. That idea that we had to get out of here, we had to do better than this. This was okay for everyone else in the street but we could do better than this. She was always moving to what she saw as a better place to bring her kids up.

— Paul McCartney, in Barry Miles’ Many Years From Now (1997).

Not only had this notion of rising out of their current situation been instilled in Paul and his brother Michael from an early age by his mother – by encouraging them to speak “the Queen’s English” and insist on their education, for example – his father, Jim McCartney, also did his best to pass down his values of “Toleration and Moderation”, a good education and a special emphasis on an honest and responsible work ethic.

I think I got my respect and tolerance for people from my dad, which is a pretty cool quality to inherit. He was very big on tolerance, my dad. It was a word he used to use all the time. I think I grew up with that attitude. You know, you’d say, ‘Bloody hell, I hate that guy.’ and then you’d stop and go, ‘Alright, wait a minute, maybe he’s got a point,’ and you’d try and consider it from his or her point of view. I think that was a great lesson.

— Paul McCartney, interview w/ Jonathan Wingate for Record Collector: Paul McCartney gets back to work (July 2007).

He had us out aged about nine. I was virtually a door-to-door salesman by the time I was twelve. [...] I was certainly not shy with people, I think because of all these activities my dad encouraged us into. I think it's probably very good for your confidence with people. It was all right. That was my upbringing.

[...]

My parents aspired for us, very much indeed. That is one of the great things you can find in ordinary people. My mum wanted me to be a doctor. 'My son the doctor' - and her being a nurse, too. No problem there. And my dad, who left school at fourteen, would have loved me to be a great scientist, a great university graduate. I always feel grateful for that. I mean, God, I certainly fulfilled their aspirations, talk about overachieving! That was all bred into me, that.

We had George Newnes Encyclopedias. I can still remember the smell of them. If you didn't know what a word meant or how it was spelled, my dad would say 'Look it up.' I think that's a great attitude to take with kids. It steers you in the right direction. It was part of a game where he was improving us without having had an awful lot of experience of improvement himself. But I always liked that, and I knew I would outstrip him. By going to grammar school I knew I'd fairly soon have Latin phrases or know about Shakespeare which he wouldn't know about.

— Paul McCartney, in Barry Miles’ Many Years From Now (1997).

Just from these passages alone, we can spot the origins of Paul’s tolerant and caring nature, social skills, self-reliance, and tireless drive for self-improvement (with its nuances of social climbing and fierce competitiveness).

All in all, it was a good solid childhood: exploring the woods outside of his house – “Mother Nature’s Son” through and through – playing and running from Speke teds with his friend George Harrison, going to school and working the occasional odd job, helping his family and making them proud.

And then, Paul McCartney’s secure existence was shattered.

My head was in a whirl, only then I realized, I lost my little girl

On the 31st of October 1956, Mary McCartney abruptly dies from complications following her mastectomy. She’d been admitted at a far too advanced state of breast cancer after she’d kept working – while in pain – for several weeks, choosing not to divulge this symptom or the fact that she had a lump in her breast to her colleagues.

The whole family is caught unawares, but the boys especially are mostly kept in the dark.

I remember one horrible day me and my brother going to the hospital. They must have known she was dying. It turned out to be our last visit and it was terrible because there was blood on the sheets somewhere and seeing that, and your mother, it was like "Holy cow!' And of course she was very brave, and would cry after we'd gone, though I think she cried on that visit. But we didn't really know what was happening. We were shielded from it all by our aunties and by our dad and everything.

— Paul McCartney, in Barry Miles’ Many Years From Now (1997).

The boys are sent away to stay with relatives, noticing that something was wrong but unaware of what was going on, unable to actually say goodbye.

Two days later, it’s too late.

Paul is 14.

As Jim comes to break the news, and his brother Michael breaks down in tears, Paul has an unexpected response.

Mum was a working nurse. There wasn’t a lot of money around – and she was half the family pay packet. My reaction was: ‘How are we going to get by without her money?’ When I think back on it, I think, ‘Oh God, what? Did I really say that?’ It was a terrible logical thought which was preceded by the normal feelings of grief. It was very tough to take.

— Paul McCartney, in Ray Coleman’s McCartney: Yesterday & Today (1996).

It would not be the last time that Paul McCartney’s initial shock response to grief is considered “flippant” or “callous” by the people around him; a fact that has haunted him throughout his life.

I’m very funny when people die. I don’t handle it at all well, because I’m so brought down that I try to bring myself up. So I don’t show grief very well. It actually leads some people to think I don’t care, and I do. I’m not good at it like some people. [...] But I’ve always been kind of inward about those things. So I just deal with it myself.

— Paul McCartney, in Ray Coleman’s McCartney: Yesterday & Today (1996).

By virtue of nature or nurture, Paul exhibits from early on an extreme difficulty or unwillingness to deal with his less pleasant emotions.

His response to the alarm that is pain is to deny that it is ringing altogether.

And this manifested not only in inadequate optimism for some situations, it most often took the shape of what appeared to be too hard and cold pragmatism. Some people, unfortunately, saw his defence-mechanism of turning completely rational in the face of crisis and mistook it for him not caring; when, in fact, he cared so much that his only solution was to try and shut it off.  

He carried with him a great burden of guilt and regret; not concerning his reaction to his mother’s death but also due to other misdemeanours and minor hurts he’d caused her when she was alive.

There's one moment that I've regretted all my life which is a strange little awkwardness for me. There was one time when she said 'ask' and she pronounced it posh. And I made fun of her and it slightly embarrassed her. Years later I've never forgiven myself. It's a terrible little thing. I wish I could go back and say, ‘I was only kidding, Mum.' I’m sure she knew. I'm sure she didn't take it too seriously.

— Paul McCartney, in Barry Miles’ Many Years From Now (1997).

In retrospect, he even theorized that the lyrics to his acclaimed ‘Yesterday’ were related to his mother’s sudden departure.

With ‘Yesterday’, singing it now, I think without realising it I was singing about my mum who died five or six years previously, or whatever the timing was. Because I think now, “Why she had to go, I don’t know, she wouldn’t say, I said something wrong…”

— Paul McCartney, interview w/ Pat Gilbert for MOJO: Don’t look back in anger (November 2013).

So in the aftermath of life completely pulling the rug from under his feet, Paul was not only struggling to deal with his own emotions, trying to bury them far from sight as best as he could, he was being consumed by terrible guilt for doing exactly that.

More than that, he was under the care of his uncle and aunt for several more days, trying to rally his brother so that they wouldn’t appear ‘softies’ in their cousins' eyes, while friends and family tried to hold together a shattered Jim McCartney, “whose first thought was to join his wife”.

Seeing his father break down like that had a huge impact on Paul.

My mother's death broke my dad up. That was the worst thing for me, hearing my dad cry. I'd never heard him cry before. It was a terrible blow to the family. You grow up real quick, because you never expect to hear your parents crying. You expect to see women crying, or kids in the playground, or even yourself crying – and you can explain all that. But when it's your dad, then you know something's really wrong and it shakes your faith in everything. But I was determined not to let it affect me. I carried on. I learnt to put a shell around me at that age.

— Paul McCartney, in The Anthology (1995).

This is very important.

Not only had the only reality he’d ever known been destroyed by his mother’s sudden death, his own father – who was supposed to be this strong, unshakable pillar in his life – couldn’t be relied on to hold it together.

Paul had been let down. He was on his own.

Fear steems from a feeling of powerlessness. You feel painfully vulnerable to whatever life might throw at you, at constant risk of being hurt again, and the only solution is to be on the lookout. Be prepared.

Paul was caught unawares because the people he’d counted on to always be there suddenly weren’t. And with his compassionate and reasonable nature, he probably didn't even blame them at all. But the facts were that Paul had been left hanging, not once but twice, when he needed them the most. So he kind of lost his faith in everything.

Life is chaotic and unpredictable; and people, through no fault of their own, are just as inconstant.

And so, in order not to risk being let down again, Paul took matters into his own hands. He tried to escape the pain and dread of being powerless by seizing control of whatever he could. And that was mostly himself.

And so begins Paul McCartney’s saga of isolating independence and other control-issues.

As Paul said above, he’s “always been kind of inward” about grief and other “negative” emotions. He’d rather be alone at this stage because he doesn’t want to expose his vulnerabilities. Not to others and much less to himself. So he needs a distraction. Something to devote himself to that’ll take his mind off the pain.

The saving grace, as usual, was music.

— Paul McCartney, The Q Interview (2007).

His brother Michael, probably the closest observer we could have of this period, recounts how Paul was like in the aftermath.

Paul was far more affected by Mum’s death than any of us imagined. His very character seemed to change and for a while he behaved like a hermit. He wasn’t very nice to live with at this period, I remember. He became completely wrapped up in himself and didn’t seem to care about anything or anybody outside himself.

He seemed interested only in his guitar, and his music. He would play that guitar in his bedroom, in the lavatory, even when he was taking a bath. It was never out of his hands except when he was at school or when he had to do his homework. Even in school, he and George Harrison used to seize the opportunity every break to sit and strum.

When we left our auntie’s house and returned home, it was agreed that Dad, Paul and I would take it in turns to do the housework.

“We’re a family on our own now,” Dad said. “We’ll all have to help.”

But time after time when I came home from school, I would find that Paul hadn’t done his bit. I would go looking for him and sometimes I would find him, up in his bedroom, perhaps, sitting in the dark, just strumming away on his guitar. Nothing, it seemed, mattered to him any more. He seldom went out anywhere – even with girls. He didn’t bother much with any of his friends except his schoolmate George Harrison and John Lennon, who was at the art school next door. Work and work alone – his school books and his guitar – appeared to be the only thing that could help him to forget.

— Mike McCartney, Woman: Portrait of Paul (21 August 1965).

So Paul takes to complete dedication to work and music to help him ignore his pain. And he’d rather go through this process of burying it on his own. We see him isolate himself from his family and friends, according to Mike socializing mostly with George, also in the context of playing music. John is also mentioned; this could be a smudging of the timeline in Mike’s recollections, as Paul would only meet John the following year. That or Paul’s mourning lasted until the autumn of 1957, when John was enrolled in art college.

We also have a clue about how guarded Paul was with his “negative” emotions – how resilient he always wanted to be – that no one imagined he would be so affected by his mother’s death as he was.

This will also be a repeating theme through Paul’s life: his wish to always be strong, positive and reliable will make others and himself overestimate his imperviousness to trauma. People will then feel free to burden him with their own pain or unload their frustrations on him, without feeling that there would be consequences; because Paul is so tough as to be unaffected by all that. This proved, time and again, not to be true.

His true strength arises, in my opinion, not in the fact that he is unshakable but in his determination to quietly pick himself up again and again.

Losing my mum when I was fourteen was a major tragic event in my life. But, when I think about myself, I am, overall, pretty optimistic, pretty enthusiastic, pretty much into getting on. One of the reasons being, she would want that. I know for certain she would want that. I know Linda would want that. I know John would want that, and George would want that. My dad would want that. They were very, very positive people. And the idea that their deaths would plunge me into some sort of morose depression would bother them. I know that for a fact. So that helps me to not go there.

— Paul McCartney, interviewed by John Colapinto for the New Yorker: When I’m sixty-four (4 June 2007).

But as a 14-year-old Northern lad, his tactic of picking himself up didn’t involve dressing the wounds, which would continue to bleed silently in the recesses of his mind.

I certainly didn’t grieve enough for my mother. There was no such thing as a psychiatrist when I lost her. You kidding? I was a 14-year-old Liverpool boy. I wouldn’t have had access to one and I do now.

— Paul McCartney, interviewed by Nigel Farndale for The Telegraph: Love me do (17 May 2002).

But soon, Paul would find an even greater outlet for his love of music, almost magical in its specialness:

Someone to perform with.

[melisa-may-taylor72]

QUEEN BEFORE QUEEN

THE 1960s RECORDINGS

➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖

PART 1:

BRIAN MAY, 1984 & THE LEFT HANDED MARRIAGE

JOHN S. STUART AND ANDY DAVIS DIG DEEP TO UNCOVER THE PREVIOUSLY UNDOCUMENTED AUDIO LEGACY OF ONE OF THE WORLD’S MOST CHERISHED BANDS.

This month the beginning and end of Queen come together like the cosy ending of a contrived Hollywood drama. While fans wait with bated breath for the band’s final album, “Made In Heaven" — completed by Brian May, John Deacon and Roger Taylor with the aid of Freddie Mercury’s last demos — author Mark Hodkinson launches a new book in which, in greater detail than has ever been attempted before, delves into the pre-fame histories of Queen’s musical antecedents.

With previously unpublished photographs of Roger Taylor's the Reaction, John Deacon’s the Opposítion and even more impressively, Freddie Mercury’s Sour Milk Sea, ‘Queen The Early Years’ is a treat fans have waited too long to read. Coincidentally, six months ago, we commissioned Queen historian, John S. Stuart, to research the definitive article on the band’s pre-fame recordings, and as you’ll see, the results complement Hodkinson’s broader picture with hitherto undocumented details of Queen's 60s recordings.

We've touched on Larry Lurex and Smile before, of course, but the vinyl output of those two acts barely scratches the surface, so to speak: literally hours and hours of privately- recorded material of Freddie, Brian, John and Roger survive to this day — as evidenced by the recent discovery of the Reaction’s ‘In The Midnight Hour’ acetate ( see RC 191). So, while the rest of the world comes to terms with the fact that Queen’s recording career is effectively at an end, we unravel the untold history of four individuals' first tentative steps in front of the microphone, beginning with the 1960′s exploits of Brian May. Next month, we’ll embrace Smile, and John, Roger and Freddie's hidden amateur recordings; but first, 1984 and the Left Handed Marriage.

1984

Around late August, or early September 1963, as the Beatles celebrated the birth of Beatlemania with sessions for their “With The Beatles” LP at EMI’s Abbey Road Studios in North London, another rock legend was developing just around the geographical corner. In a semi-detached house in Feltham, Middlesex, electronics engineer Harold May began an 18-month task, helping his sixteen-year-...[ ]

[ ]...old son, Brian, to construct the world's most famous home-made guitar, the ‘Red Special'. In the mean time, Brian would have to be con­tent with thrashing away at the small Spanish acoustic his parents had bought him for his seventh birthday. (Brian evidently mislaid this childhood guitar shortly afterwards; and didn't see it again until 1991, when at a ‘reunion’ of former members of 1984, his schoolfriend and first musical collaborator, Dave Dilloway, returned it to him. Brian was so thrilled, that he featured the guitar in the video for Queen’s “Headlong" single).

By 1964, Brian and Dave Dilloway were already recording amateur duets together, and by linking up their two reel-to-reel tape docks, they discovered that they could lay down guitars on one machine, and perhaps bass, percussion and sometimes vocals on the other. Although the technique was crude, and despite the occasional disaster, the effect was often surprisingly good. One of the earliest tapes from these primitive recording sessions survives to this day, and features Brian belting out Bo Diddley’s eponymous R&B standard, "Bo Diddley".

“This is a mono quarter-inch, reel-to-reel I found buried among various other oddments from the era”,  recalls Dave Dilloway. “It certanly dates from before the formation of 1984. It was recorded in Brian’s back room in Feltham, with Brian on lead vocals and guitar, and myself on bass and drums. The track is basic, but Brian’s vocals are clear and recognisable. The guitar playing is fairly basic as well, but competent, without any real solos as such”.

“ This is the only tape in my collection of those double-track recordings. I’m unsure whether Brian himself has retained the tapes we made at the time, but I believe he usually ended up with the finished versions, so he may still heve them somewhere.”

 The duo also recorded four-track instru­mental cover versions of several Shadows tunes — “Apache”, “FBI”, "Wonderful Land” and "The Rise  And Fall Of Fingel Blunt” — as well as “Rambunkshush”, which they learned from the Shadows’ American counterparts, The Ventures.  Also on the same tape is their reading of Chet Atkins' “Windy And Warm".

 Yet another reel reveals an attempt at Cliff Richard’s "Bachelor Boy", on which Brian, once again, takes the lead vocal. Dave Dilloway's theory is probably correctt; May is known to have a meticulously catalogued personal collection of Queen (and pre-Queen) recordings and memorabilia, which almost certanlly contains unfathomable reels of similar early material.

In the autumn of 1964, Brian and Dave formed a rapidly-evolving band, through which many schoolmates passed, but which eventually settled with a line-up of bassist John 'Jag' Garnham, drummer Richard Thompson, and harmonica-playing vocalist Tim Staffell. After rejecting names such as the Mind Boggles and Bob Chappy & the Beetles, the quintet named themselves after George Orwell’s futuristic novel ‘1984’. Their look was far from sci-fi, however, and they happily adopted the classic, clean-cut beat- group look of the day: jackets, or in Brian's case a cardigan, and narrow trousers; and beat boots. Tim Staffell even acquired that year’s fashion accessory, a pork-pie hat.

The band rehearsed regularly at Chase Bridge Primary School Hall in Twickenham (located next to the rugby ground), and on the 28th October 1964, gave their first public performance at the nearby St. Mary’s Church Hall. It is believed that either one of the rehearsals, or the gig itself, was recorded, but unfortunately, no tape of this debut, perform­ance has survived the years. Although 1984 recorded almost all of their live concerts for their own critical appraisal, to save on the expense of new tape they often wiped over old reels once they’d listened to them. Nevertheless, evidence of Brian May playing live does survive from this period, and the earliest example dates from an unknown gig (Shepperton Rowing Club is the favoured consensus), recorded in late 1965. This wasn’t a 1984 performance, but rather an ad-hoc trio comprising Brian May on bass and vocals, Pete ‘Woolly’ Hammerton (a school friend of Brian’s) on guitar and vocals, and 1984's Richard Thompson on drums. The tape reveals the trio turning in versions of Martha & the Vandellas’ “Dancing In The Street", the Beatles' “Eight Days A Week”, “I’m Taking Her Home” — a song by the group Woolly later joined, the Others — and a brave attempt at the Who’s "My Generation".

The Others comprised older boys from Hampton School, who in October 1964 had issued a single of their abrasive reading of Bo Diddley’s “Oh Yeah", backed by “I’m Taking Her Home", on Fontana (TF 501). “That was good!" claims singer, Tim Staffell. “I’ve still got that record buried somewhere deep in my mind — I remember the singer, Paul Stewart's voice and the quality of the guitar sound. The Others were a pretty significant influence. Maybe not in terms of the music, more in the sense that they were already doing it, which proved it was possible."

As evidenced by the photograph included in this feature, the Others clearly had attitude, something which 1984, or Tim Staffell at least, could only aspire to “If I had tried to push 1984 in any direction," reveals Tim, “then that would have been it. Without hearing any of these tapes of our band — and I didn't even know they existed! — l’d say we probably sounded a lot safer than the Others. Mind you, they were different to us. Their guitar style was very much inspired by American R&B, whereas Brian’s never was. Brian was a unique guitar player: he was able to extemporise a much more original way than most guitar players could. I hope he’ll forgive me for saying so, but I never perceived him as having the dangerous image which was necessary at the time — the cardigan says it all!.

LIGHTWEIGHT

“In retrospect, 1984 was lightweight, a bit fluffy”  concedes Tim. “It was impossible not to be naively ambitious — that was part and parcel of it — and the primary motivation to do it was what we saw in the media as the end results of success. But I guess we were realistic about it — we were at school, after all. Also there was a good deal of pressure in the 60s from our parents, and the conser­vative generation, to conform."

Although a version of “I’m Taking Her Home” by 1984 was captured live on the Shepperton tape, and Brian occasionally guested with the Others on stage, it's worth stating once and for all that — despite the persistent rumours — he definitely doesn’t feature on "Oh Yeah".  In fact, Pete ‘Woolly' Hammerton doesn't even play on the record — he only joined the band formally later on.

In the autumn of 1965, leaving Hampton Grammar with no fewer than four 'A' Levels and ten ‘O’ levels, Brian enrolled at Imperial College in Kensington, London, to read physics and infra-red astronomy. Before breaking up for the Christmas holidays that year, he played the first in a series of gigs with 1984 at the college, a tradition he continued later with Smile, and in their formative days with Queen. Although the exact date of the event has long since been forgotten, a very poor- quality tape still exists of 1984‘s college debut. The set was a typical one, comprising the group’s broad blend of pop, R&B and soul covers, and included the following songs: “Cool Jerk" (originally by the Capitols), ‘Respect" (Otis Redding), "My Girl" (the Temptations), “Shake" (Sam Cooke), “Stepping Stone" (the Monkees), “You Keep Me Hanging On" (the Supremes), “Whatcha Gonna Do Ahout it" ( Small Faces), “Substitute” (the Who), “How Can It Be” (the B-side of the Birds’ final single, “No Good Without You Baby”), “Danc­ing In The Street", “Dream" (Everly Brothers) and the Small Faces’ "Sha La La La Lee".

“Our repertoire was a little too eclectic to have developed into any particular style” reckons Tim Staffell. “But the Small Faces were quite influential. When we were at school, the songs were dredged from all sorts of areas. I’d always liked rhythm’n’blues. Brian’s input would have been Beatles-orientated, Dave’s as well. Richard Thompson would have been more into R&B, and Jag didn't really have an agenda as far as songs were concerned. Because of the nature of the material we covered, our approach to the gigs was almost schoollboy cabaret. 1984 was not a dangerous, moody rock band! Which may have something to do with the way Queen evolved."

1984 oponed 1966 with a couple of gigs at the Thames Rowing CIub in Putney; and once again, a tape recorder was set up to document the group’s progress. Two reels from January that year exist: the first is dated the 15th, and features “Im A Loser” (the Beatles), “I Wish You Would" ( the Yardbirds), “I Feel Fine" (the Beatles), “Little Egypt" (the Coasters), "Lucille” (Little Richard), “Too Much Monkey Business" (Chuck Berry), "I Got My Mojo Working” (Muddy Waters), "WalkingThe Dog” ( Rufus Thomas) and “Heart Full Of Soul" (the Yardbirds).

The second, dated two weeks later (29th January), demonstrates the great variety and confidence of a band which consistently renewed its repertoire. The show began with Jimmy Reed’s  “Bright Lights, Big City", moving into the Cookies' “Chains" (popularised by the Beatles), “Walking The Dog", “Lucille", “Our Little Rendezvous" (Chuck Berry), “Jack O’ Diamonds" (Blind Lemon... (cont)

(cont) Jefferson, popularised by Lonnie Donegan), “I’ve Got My Mojo Working”, “Little Egypt" and Bo Diddley’s “I’m A Man”. The band’s finale was a versión of Sonny Boy Williamson’s "Bye Bye Bird".

For an amateur band with little real pretension towards stardom, or even a serious attempt at securing a recording contract, a staggering amount of live 1984 material has been preserved on tape. Dave Dilloway, for instance, is the guardian of a seven-inch reel-to-reel, which he says reveals either a very long performance or a compilation of various unknown dates.

Either way, the tape is divided into five distinct sections, which might make tedious reading, but is an invaluable reference: 1) “Route 66", (unknown instrumental), “I’m Taking Her Home", “Too Much Monkey Business’, “Yesterday" (featuring Brian May on lead vocals), “Walking The Dog", and “ Lucille"; 2) “Little Rendezvous", "Keep On Running”, “I Feel Fine”, “Walking The Dog”, “Jack O’ Diamonds", “High Heeled Sneakers", “I Want To Hold Your Hand", “I Got My Mojo Working*, and “I Should Have Known Better”; 3) “Little Rendezvous", “Jump Back Baby Jump Back", “I Feel Fine”, “Bye Bye Bird", “Little Egypt", “Crazy House". “Lucille”, “Oh Yeah”, “Heatwave”, “Too Much Monkey Business", “I Should Have Known Better", and “I Got My Mojo Working"; 4) “My Generation", “Little Egypt", “Dancing In The Street", “Whatcha Gonna Do About It", “I’m A Man", “Heatwave", “Lucille", and “Bye Bye Bird"; and 5) “Heart Full Of Soul", “Too Much Monkey Business”, “Something’s Got A Hold On Me", “Keep On Running", “My Generation", "Tired Of Waiting", “Bright Lights. Big City" and “Happy Hendrick’s Polka".

“These are all domestic quality, single microphone recordings of early-era 1984", reveals Dave Dilloway. “It's mostly bluesy material, with some soul and Beatles songs. While the quality is basic, the sound is intelligible, although there isn’t a large amount of identifiable Brian guitarwork. That came later in the band's history, when we included covers of Crearn and Hendrix. Brian's solo vocals on 'Yesterday' (on the first segment) are quite clear, however."

For much of 1966, the band carried on in a similar vein — Brian's and the others' college work permitting, of course. For Brian May and his unsigned, Twickenham-based covers band, the highlight of the following year, 1967, was undoubtedly the gig he secured via through his contacts at the college — supporting Jimi Hendrix at Imperial. The date was 13th May, the day after the release of Hendrix's debut, “Are You Experienced". Brian May idolised Hendrix to such an extent that he'd been nicknamed “Brimi" — a combination of the two guitarists' names—so although 1984 had seen him perform before, it goes without saying they were thrilled when backstage, they actually bumped into the ascending star as they filed past his dressing-room. It’s a familar story, but it's one worth repeating: Jimi enquired memorably, “Which way’s the stage, man?*.

BLOSSOMED

1984's act had certainly blossomed by this point. Their attire was now obligatory Swinging London — or Swinging Middlesex — fare: frilly shirts, Regency jackets, striped hipsters secured with a white belt, and hairtyles extending inexorably over the ears, and indeed the eyes. “Somewhere along the line, there was an external influence there", says Tim Staffell. “There was someone calling the shots. I don’t think all that was self-motivated. It’s something I’ve never been comfortable with, which explains why I split away from it early on — certainly from Smile onwards — because it was going that way; as indeed it ended up with Queen. It's fair enough, but that sort of flamboyance is just not me. I look fairly uncomfortable in the picture of the band from that period. My idea of a rock musician is one with hair down his back, a dirty pair of Levi's on, looking at the floor, thoroughly unconcerned with the visual and external trappings, playing the most extraordinary virtuoso guitar. That was my attitude."

Back in February 1967, Brian’s local paper, the ‘Middlesex Chronicle’ caught up with the band, and captured Tim Staffell in an equally decisive mood; although here, he was more enthusiastic about the latest trend. "Psychodelic music is certainly here to stay”~he claimed. "It makes more of music than mere sound, it makes it a whole and complete art form." Dave Dilloway, who also handled the group's light show, added: “We use everything in our act, including things like shaving foam, and plastic bricks we throw around”.

The ‘Chronicle’ was obviously impressed, and its reporter had this to say about a per­formance by what it called “one of the most foward-looking groups today". “Standards, like ‘Heatwave' receive a very original treatment, mostly due to the sounds that Brian coaxes out of his guitar. Jazz chords and electronic sounds add feeling and nuance to numbers that are often churned out wholesale. Using two bass drums for a fuller sound, Richard's drumming, combined with the full bass riffs of Dave and the steady (rhythm guitar) work of John, provides a firm basis for experiments in sound — an opportunity which is not wasted."

“To be quite honest with you, there’s more substance in the literary content there, than in the musical," laughs Tim Staffell. "If some­one genuinely thought that, then I'm surprised! Brian might have used a fuzz-box. but generally, it was au naturel. I remember in the Smile days, somebody wrote about ‘humming chords of wonder’, referring to my bass playing. The reality of it was that sometimes I did try and play chords on the bass guitar, which might have come out as a deep-throated roar, but actually sounded like a load of crap!"

“We did use to tickle about with a few lights, suggests Dave Dilloway, “but being a local band, money was tight and there wasn’t a fortune to spend on the band." As to 1984's psychodelic sound, Dave adds: “Brian did use a bit of fuzz, yes, and Pink Floyd influences and a bit of screaming guitar. He’d actually built a fuzz box into his guitar, which was fairly unique for the day, but typical Brian. If you look carefully at recent pictures of his “Red Special” you can see the fuzz switch taped over."

In September 1967, no doubt boosted by their praise — sincere or not — in the local press, the continuing evidence of their per­formance tapes and their recent Hendrix support slot, 1984 entered the local beats of a battle-of-the-bands competition at the Top...[ ]

...[ ] Rank Club in Croydon, just south of London. Effectively a promotion for Scotch tape, en­trance to the contest could only be secured via a demo recorded on a Scotch reel. 1984’s effort duly arrived in the form of a two-track master, featuring covers of Marvin Gaye's “Ain’t That Peculiar?" and the Everly Brothers’ “Crying ln The Rain" (on stage, both tracks were usually enhanced by characteristic Brian May guitar solos, but conservatism prevailed, and they were absent in this instance). A copy of this recording still survives, carefully guarded by the custodian of the 1984 archive. “This tape is a quarter-inch, mono reel-to-reel," re­calIs Dave Dilloway. “Tim took lead vocals on 'Ain't That Peculiar?’, and Tim and Brian duetted on ’Crying ln The Rain’. Brian's vocal style and tone can be clearly discerned, if one knows his voice. The songs were recorded in single takes, using a single microphone fed directly to the recorder. There was no mix facility so it has a ‘live' feel, a very good clean sound”. 

The mix was achieved using the old fashioned technique of microphone position and relative volume levels of the amplified Instruments. “As far as I am aware, only the one (master) copy of this tape exists.”

As has been well-documented, after two sets at the competition (one of which saw Brian, Dave, John Garnham and drummer Richard Thompson acting as the back-up band for a singer called Lisa Perez), 1984 won the contest, and walked away with a reel of blank tape (Scotch, of course) and an album each on the CBS label. (Tim took the top prize, Simon & Garfunkel’s “Sounds Of Silence", Brian had to make do with a Barbra Streisand LP, and Dave Dilloway became the proud owner of an album by Irish bandleader Tommy Makem!). More importantly, their demo tape was forwarded to the CBS A&R department for the national showdown, although, clearly, they didn’t win.

True to form, 1984's performance that evening was committed to tape — for an unpublished review by ‘Melody’ Maker, no less — but was probably erased shortly afterwards. The twenty-minute set consisted of the Everlys’ "So Sad", Hendrix’s “Stone Free”, Buddy Knox’s “She’s Gone" and Eddie Floyd's “Knock On Wood". After the gig, the band were invited by a visiting promotor to participate in the all-night gala event which has since gone down as one of the key gigs of the London underground scene: Christmas On Earth Continued, at London's Olympia Theatre, on December 23rd 1967. 1984 was the lowest pro­file act at this decidedly high-profile event, and after Jimi Hendrix, Traffic, Pink Floyd, the Herd, and Tyrannosaurus Rex had all taken to the stage, they only got to perform their humble set of covers at 5 o’clock in the morning. When Brian finally plugged in his ‘Red Special’, 1984 played a thirty-minute set to a very small, and less than enthusiastic, audience.

Also from 1967, and of far more interest, is 1984′s professionally-recorded Thames Television demo tape. During his first-year of study at Twickenham Technical College, Dave Dilloway had made friends with a number of technicians, or trainee technicians, at the Teddington-based ITV company which served the London area. The station had recently invested in new recording equipment, and rather than hire professional musicians at the usual union rate, in a set up similar to the first Queen sessions at the De Lane Lea studios, 1984 were let loose in the studio to record at their leisure. Dave Dilloway's carefully preserved tape still plays perfectly, and includes the following songs: "Hold On I’m Corning", “Knock On Wood“, “NSU", *How Can It Be”, two early run-throughs of the original May/ Staffell composition “Step On Me” (which eventually became the B- side to Smile's “Earth"), “Purple Haze", “Our Love Is Driftin* ”, and medleys of “Remember”/”Sweet Wine" and “Get Out My Life Woman”/ ”Satisfaction". The session ended with a run-through of "My Girl”.

AMALGAM

"What an extraordinary amalgam!" declares Tim Staffell today. “There’s Tamla, Cream, Hendrix, Lee Dorsey . . ‘Our Love Is Driftin' we’d have heard by Paul Butterfield. I’d forgotten there was such a large soul component in 1984!".

Dave Dilloway has the technical details: “This tape is the most re­cent, best and most representative of 1984 that I'm aware of. It is mono, but since it was made on good quality TV studio equipment and was carried out along the lines of a proper studio recording, with separately-mixed microphones for each source, it is remarkably good quality for its age. The material, except for ‘Step On Me', is aII cover versions, but as it dates from the late 1984 era, Brian’s playing is more prominent and effective, with his own style starting to show through. All the performances are competent — particularly Tim’s vocals and Brian's guitar; although the mix is a little heavy on John's rhythm guitar for some reason, probably the ‘ear’ of the recording engineer at the time. All tracks were laid down in one take, i.e., no overdubbing at all, so the sound is predominantly simple, as per our live versions."

And that was 1984′s swansong. In the spring of 1968, shortly afler the Thames recording, mainly due to the pressures of infrequent meetings and university studies — coupled with increasing musical differences — 1984 scaled down their operations drastically. Brian May left the band, and Tim Staffell took over on lead guitar for a while. A little later, Tim himself quit, leaving Dave Dilloway, John Garnham and Richard Thompson to rebuild the group, which soldiered on into the 70′s, content merely to play for fun. They all conceded that 1984 had been a good, solid, and popular local band, but that it didn’t have the necessary spark or originality to transform into a great one.

The Left Handed Marriage

ln the summer of 1965, in another corner of Hampton Grammar School, Brian May’s old friend Bill Richards (who had been a fleeting, early member of 1984 before it acquired its futuristic name), and his colleagues Jenny Hill (née Rusbridge), Henry Deval and Terry Goulds, formed a folk-rock band called the Left-Handed Marriage, named after an archaic form of marrying beneath oneself. By January 1967, the quartet had progressed to the point where they had issued their own privately-pressed album, “On The Right Side Of The Left Handed Marriage", which ran to just fifty copies (and, incidentally, has since acquired cult status among collectors, with a £600 price tag to match).

Although naturally familiar with the al­bum, Brian May as yet had not been involved with the band. That changed in March 1967, after Bill signed a twelve-month contract with EMI's music publishing company Ardmore & Beechwood — a deal secured through the efforts of Brian Henderson, a former member of Edinburgh beat outfit the Mark Five, and more recently, the bassist in Patrick Campbell- Lyons' 60′s psychodelic band, Nirvana. Bill approached Brian to help him create a “fuller" sound for the Left Handed Marriage, with a request to provide guitar and backing vocals on some recording sessions.

On the understanding that the project wouldn’t interfere with his commitment to 1984, Brian agreed. On 4th April 1967, he joined Jenny, Henry, Terry and Bill in AMC Sound, an amateur studio in Manor Road, Twickenham, to record four songs: “Give Me Time” (later changed to “I Need Time"), "She Was Once My Friend", “Sugar Lump Girl” and “Yours Sincerely” (which was basically “Give Me Time" backwards, with new lyrics pinched from the Russian author Pushkin).

The songs were all cleanly-recorded, melodic atempts at 1967 pop (despite the Left Handed Marriage's later classification, there's little actual folk music in evidence). “She Was Once My Friend" is the pick of the bunch, thanks to its Kinks-like structure — complete with Bill Richard's/ Ray Davies-soundalike vocal and, albeit way down in the mix, flashes of that distinctive Brian May 'Red Special’ guitar sound. Acetates of the AMC EP were cut, and the idea had been to release the songs as a commercial EP.  Instead, the set merely became the Left Handed Marriage’s first demo for their publishers, although it did lead to the offer to record at a more professional session — at EMI’s prestigious Abbey Road studios.

The Abbey Road session took place on 28th June 1967, when Left Handed Marriage were joined by Brian and 1984′s Dave Dilloway, who was drafted in to play bass. Two further tracks were cut: the reworked “I Need Time",...[ ]

...[ ] and a new song called “Appointment". At this stage, there was more talk of issuing a record, this time a single, and a release date of August was even discussed. This never materialised either, and again 7″ acetates are all that remain.

Although Ardmore & Beechwood were pleased with the results, they still thought the Left Handed Marriage could improve their sound even further, and on 31st July 1967, they booked the band into another studio, this time Regent Sound in central London. As Dave Dilloway was not available, another friend, John Frankel, was called upon to play bass and piano. The eight-track Regent Sound ma­chine was something of a technological marvel, and the session was flawlessly recorded, resulting in new versions of “I Need Time”, “She Was Once My Friend" (which also remixed and edited for the abandoned single), and "Appointment".

Despite the studio quality of the tape, Ardmore & Beechwood failed to place the songs with a record label, and like so many groups before and since, the Left Handed Marriage quietly disappeared from view. It was left to frontman Bill Richards belatedly to issue the fruits of this last session, when in February 1993, he tagged the three Regent Sound recordings — the final mix of “I Need Time”, the abridged version of “She Was Once A Friend Of Mine” and the final mix of “Appointment” — onto the end of “Crazy Chain”, a CD recorded by the reformed Left Handed Marriage, which itself was prompted by collector's interest in the group’s original 1967 LP,  “The Right Hand Side Of...” . Most of the master tapes for the LHM recordings featuring Brian May have Iong since disappeared along with the Regent Sound studio, and (with the exception of "She Was Once My Friend") the Richards/May collaborations on the CD were digitally remastered from acetates.

RECORD COLLECTOR Nº 195, NOVEMBER 1995

➡NEXT: ROGER TAYLOR’S REACTION 

@natromanxoff, @mephisto92, @moviestorian,  @39-brian,  @an-abyss-called-life, @his-majesty-king-mercury, @x5vale  @onegoldenglance  @i-live-for-queen, @brian-39-may, @toomuchlove-willkillyou, @brimaymay, @sail-away-sweet-sister, @briianmaay,  @inui-mycroft @brianmayislongaway, @balticlover, @astrophysicist-guitar-god, @miez-lakatz, @brianmayoucease, @jesus-in-a-life-boat, @drummerqueenrmt, @iminlovewithrogscar @roger-taylors-car, @crosmopolitan​ @silapril, @sherrifanciesfriskyfreddie @tenderbri, @brianmydear, @thosequeenboys, @millionairewaltz-carpediem, @painandpleasure86, @bribrifrenchfry, @xlucylennonx, @a-night-at-the-abbey-road, @inthedayswhenlandswerefew, @madformeddowstaylor, @drowseoftaylor @queenrogertaylorfan, @let-roger-get-a-lunch, @queen-for-life, @rethought​, @mymakeupmaybeflaking​, @old-but-still-a-child​, @let-roger-get-a-lunch​, @warriorteam1924​, @funnydressesweirdhairanddance​, @painkiller80​, @thefanhuman13​, @yourtieddownmother​, @hgmercury39​, @brimi-stardust​, @thefairyfellermercury​,  @retroromantics​, @sailawaysweetbrimi​, @sophiaintheskywithdiamonds​, @deacytits​@rhysjoejoshtomfarisblog​, @holybrianmaywritingbear​, @lydiannode​, @39-yellow-daffodils​ , @ure-gonna-loveme-when-u-seeme​, @kaykaybeachgirl​, @foxmonkey​, @saik-ava​, @deakysgurl​, @redspecialandclogsandcurls​, @briansrainbowsocks​, @delilahmay39​, @ohmybribri​, @bless-the-queen​, @infunitehearbeat​, @sketchiesscketches​,  @everythingaboutfreddie​, @doitforthevine67​, @recordsoftheseventies​, @tenementfunsterwithpurpleshoes​, @drummah-in-a-rocknroll-band​, @beatlegirl1968​, @maylorsqueen​, @shearrehartatacc​, @gralto​, @alittlepeoplemagic​, @rainbowsockbrian​, @frejudy​, @drivenbybri​, @yourlocalmusicalprostitute​, @omb-xx​, @sassymaylor​, @somekindofroger​, @starlightmay​, @rhysjoejoshtomfarisblog, @freddiemercuryismylife​, @sunshine112​, @chrysochromulina​ @glitteryloveravenue​, @deakyislife51​, @0-primejive-0​, @just-a-skinny-lad​, @drivenbybrianmay​

[sweetrosetta-martin]

Beatle tag (cause why not ✌💗) 

I’m new to this fandom online, so what best way to present myself but doing this (plz don't kill me guys I come in peace).

 But I do have to give an special to @sgt-revolver cause thanks to their post I decided to do it. 

How long have you been a fan ?: About two years if I’m not wrong, but god it has been two intense ones. Long story short, this band never was part of my life (grew up in a different culture) until the day I was reading some fanfiction in AO3 and stumbled across one about them. I then found out they were the guys behind “Let it be” and “Here comes the sun” so I decided do dig even deeper..... (Now I’m here simping and crying to their music at 2am) 🙃

 Favorite Beatle: Used to be Paul (man got a charm) but when I better discovered George as a hole human being, and not only a Beatle, I went 💥. Tho, sometimes I do get frustrated with him and stay on John’s side cause he was lowkey relatable and a big bi-disaster mood. (I suddenly feel bad for Rings.... srry bro ) 

Favorite era for music: At the beginning I didn't like the mop top era and practically only listened from Help! to then end, but now I appreciate each period as a part of the band’s musical history and can’t help to fangirl to most songs. (Tho I’ll always have a soft spot for 1966)

Favorite era for lewks: Each Beatles had its own I think. Ringo as a teddy boy (he looks like the bad boy of your dreams), George in 65` (longer hair but not to long and just overlay hotness) and Paul/John in 66`. (The perfect balance between early and late looks)

Favorite song: Guess it depends on my mood, but it’s surely a tight between “Strawberry fields forever”, “Happiness is a warm gun”, “Lovely Rita” “While my guitar gently weeps”, “Don't bother me” and “Across the universe”. (This is such an unfair question xd)

Favorite album: Honestly I just can’t decide.. Its prob either “The Beatles (aka white album)”, “With the Beatles” or “Revolver” 

Unpopular/Controversial Beatles opinion: “Revolution 9″ is not an unlistenable song and has an actual artistic value. I mean, I don’t think is a song meant to be listened during a car ride, but I do think it encapsulates pretty well the chaotic and changing vibe of the late 60s. This song makes you feel unwell because it’s meant to. Despite that, I do believe it should not have been included on the album, but rather as a John/Yoko project. (Ik Geo had a input though)

A song everyone loves but you dislike: Never was the biggest fan of “Come together” or “With a little help from my friends”. They are not necessarily bad, but rather average for me

A song everyone dislikes but you love: “Run for your life”... I know the lyrics are quite nasty but its so catchy and I love George’s guitar in it. I also really like “Dizzy Miss Lizzy”, but I don’t know if it really is that unpopular among people

Your fantasy involving The Beatles: The PG one or the ??.. 

JK, but I would have love to meet them during their cavern/casbah days. Like about 1961, just to chat with them about rock n roll and even jam some songs. (Even if I’m not sure that I would love to do that as a girl or a guy). And I sincerely wish I could just have some deep conversations with George and John while we share a joint . I just wish I could have known them better... 

Tell us about the moment you knew you were a fan: When returning home after a long school day I decided to look after some live material (At the time I only knew like 4 songs). I put YouTube on my tv, and found “She loves you” . I was not the same girl after watching that video. If I could explain how I suddenly felt so much joy and excitement looking at them that I even started singing and dancing. The rest is history 😉

Did you ever have a genuine ‘The Beatles suck !’ phase before becoming a fan?: Because their music was not around me 24/7 growing up, I never got fed up with their music. For me almost everything was new and interesting, so I never had a hater phase 

Favorite Beatle’s book: Have not read any for the moment, but I’m dying to buy Cynthia’s and May’s books. (Also the autobiography “I me mine” by George) 

Thoughts on the old generation of fans: Even if the few experiences I’ve had with them have not been good, I know most of them are chill people. I also love some podcasts made by first or second gen fans. The only thing that I dislike, is the average boomer who will claim they know more than you cause they were alive at the time, even if the only song they know its “Hey Jude” . (Or those who treat John as a saint, and blame the hole break-up on Paul... smh)

If Hollywood were to make a high budget Beatles biopic, what is one thing you desperately hope they include?: I wish they wont do it (We already got enough movies), but if they do something, it would be better if it was a series and not a film. If it had to happen, they better not forget how young the guys really were and how they were actual people. I know they were ground-breaking in so many ways, but they were also human beings with many defaults and even a bit naïve in some aspects. If you only give me a wife-beater (nasty) John, delicate flower Paul, silent George and dumb Ringo, the cartoon series has done a better job than you. 

Do you read/write fanfic: One word.... Yes... *Hides her unfinished drafts*

Are you the only one in your family/friend group to enjoy them?: Sadly yes. I have to force my dad to play some Beatle music while driving cause most of the music he plays is raegetton, and even if I’m proud of my Latino roots.. I’ll do salsa or merengue anytime but not some Bad Bunny ok. 

Are you a shipper?:  Yup

Favorite movie starring/made by them?: Help!.. I mean I also love AHDN, but it’s just so funny to see them run around being high af as they play music despite Ringo being in mortal danger. (Also the visuals we get each song just give me such a MTV vibe. Its genuinely beautiful)

Do you believe in McLennon?: *smirks at the camera*

General opinions on McLennon?: Oh boy. The Lennon/McCartney relationship is one that seems out of my grandma telenovelas. From Paris to the breakup, their story is one of up and downs, but they never really stopped loving each other. Not even death could stop their link as Paul still dreams of him and thinks about John when composing songs. I understand that not everyone may be convinced that something really happened, but I think we all should be open to the possibility. 

If you got to change ONE thing about their history, what would be and why?: Brian’s death. The beginning of the end was the moment he passed away. With Brian the band would still have broke up (All things must pass, even the good ones), but it would have been less messed up. No Paul trying to take the lead a bit too much, Apple Corps probably being better handled and no Allen Klein messing up everything. (And probably no Yoko in the studio but that may be a bit of a stretch) 

What song has the best vocals?: As a group, “Because” it’s probably the one. Such a simple, yet perfectly well put vocals. The peak of their talent for harmonizing in my opinion. In another side “Oh Darling!” is prob Paul best and John’s voice in “This Boy” always get me

What song do you feel had no effort put into it?: Prob an unpopular opinion but “Eight Days a Week” is such a basic song. It’s not innovative, it just uses the formula, and I feel like around this time the guys were kind of tired and just fabricated the song to be a single. It simply not feels genuine, and for me it shows the biggest problem from the “Beatles for Sale” era. 

What is a well talked moment in Beatles history you genuinely believe to be false?: The way Yoko met John. The most known story is that they met each other at a Yoko art gallery, but many sources (such a Cynthia or Brian personal assistant) tell us a complete different truth. I do believe she knew the band, stalked John and force herself into his life, despite of the romantic tale she keeps repeating. 

What is something you KNOW to be true, but often gets erased in their history: John. So many things about John. Many see him as only a funny character and ignore so many cues that he was a man struggling with his own self esteem to the point of having eating disorders. Not forgetting his fluid sexuality, the fact that many think that as house husband all his problems went away or that he was a wife beater. John was more than the “Imagine” martyr or  monster so many people (even some fans) make out of him.

Least favorite look from a Beatle(s): Ringo in the Help! movie. Horrible mushroom hair 😂

Favorite look from a Beatle(s):  George Harrison in the “Hey Bulldog”/”Lady Madonna” videoclip. (I also want that cherry SG Standard so bad omg)

I really don’t know how many others have done it but here are my tags 

@rocknroll-imagines @moreofthatdrowse @cultofbeatle @joan-deserved-the-silver-hammer

Thanks a lot guys !! ❤✌🥦🐘🎵😎

[fancifulwritings]

The Song Remains The Same

Chapter Four

     Once out of the limo, Calypso could feel Robert slip his hand to the small of her back again. It was comforting. Holding hands felt a little too personal for her, a promise of more than what she really was. At least, that’s how she would take it. The last thing she wanted to do was get her hopes up.

His hand slipped a bit more and rested on her ass for just a second. Just long enough that she knew it was done on purpose. That alone sent a shiver up her spine. She turned to look at him. His only response was to slowly move it back up and smirk as he shrugged. The night ahead of her was certainly going to be something.

     As long as Robert stuck by her, and stuck by her close, she was sure that she could make it. The idea of meeting all of them was a bit much. Meeting him alone had almost killed her. For now, he functioned as her rock. It was an odd thought, really. She was just glad she didn’t have to worry about him leaving her side. It was just something she could feel. He wasn’t going anywhere.

     The only time, so far, he moved away from her was to open the door to the restaurant. Calypso expected a wall of sound to hit her. It didn’t. The place looked and sounded practically dead. Looking around, she could see that there was next to no one there. How could that be? It had to be the only place open right now. People should be flocking to it.

     He noticed her confusion by how she stopped dead in her tracks. “We reserved the whole place. A treat for us and the whole crew,” he explained as he took her hand. She felt a flutter in her stomach. God, she felt a fool. “Better than eating alone in a hotel room, I suppose.” He looked around as he spoke. “I’m sure more of them will file in as the night goes on.”

     Once he found what he was looking for, he began to walk in that direction. Calypso wasn’t quite sure what he had searched for and found, until they were right in front of her. It took every ounce of restraint in her body to not let her jaw drop.

     It was just all so much to take in. There they were, right in front of her. Two more of her heroes, men she had loved since she had discovered the band. It felt surreal. This whole night felt surreal. If Robert’s hand hadn’t squeezed her own a bit tighter, she might have thought it was a dream. This was real. Jimmy Page and John Paul Jones were right in front of her, in the flesh.

     Jason, naturally, sat at the table with them as well. There was something more human to him. Something that said he was a real person. Perhaps that was just because she hadn’t idolized him since she was a young girl.

     For a moment, she was glad they were oblivious to Robert’s arrival. Calypso knew her reaction was a bit silly. After all, she was so close to Robert right now. They’d literally just made out in a limo. But there was something ethereal about seeing all three of them together. She couldn’t believe her luck. Whatever had allowed for this, she was thankful to forever. What it was, she wasn’t sure. Robert saw her reaction and chuckled just a bit.

     That soft sound had them all turning to look at them. Jason, to her, seemed to be completely unfazed. He’d been a small child growing up around them. Why should Robert with a girl on his arm surprise him at all?

     Jonesy chuckled just a bit, looking away as he did. Perhaps back in the day such a sight might have bothered him. Now though? Why should it? Robert’s home had already been broken decades before by numerous girls.

     Jimmy’s reaction was what threw her off. His eyes opened wide. Was he surprised? God, was she that much unlike Robert’s typical type? It never crossed her mind that it might be the age difference. To her, they really existed out of time. Sure, their bodies had aged, but they would always be themselves at some core level. Jimmy’s face evened out quickly, turning into a pleasant enough smile. Clearly, he was trying to be on his best behavior. That worried her.

     “Calypso, John Paul. John Paul, Calypso,” Robert said moving his hand back and forth.

     “Please, just call me Jonesy. Everyone else still seems to,” he chuckled. She nodded, unsure of what to say. The cat really did have her tongue at the moment.

     “Calypso, Jason. Jason, Calypso. Jimmy, Calypso, Calypso, Jimmy,” he said before taking a sit next to the latter man. “But I’m sure you already know their names,” he said with a chuckle.

     “Nice to meet you all,” she said with a quick wave before sitting down. She was a bit grateful that Robert sat between her and Jimmy. The last thing she wanted to do was come between those two men. If even half of what came out to her came out tonight, she didn’t want to be stuck there. That was a bit above her head.

     The waitress, it seems, had been waiting for the last of them to show up. She came right over and asked them all for their order. Calypso was a bit flustered, having to go first. She ordered a salad and a beer.

     Once they were all done and placed their orders, Robert just gave her a bit of side eye. “What, I’m legal here and back home. I can order a beer, can’t I?” Clearly, that wasn’t what he had met by it. Before he could say anything more, Jimmy spoke up.

     “From America then love?” He asked. To that, she just nodded. Robert placed a hand on her thigh as Jimmy spoke. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes. It was clearly a claim to her in front of Jimmy.

Calypso had no idea how many, if any, woman Robert had lost to his friend. He had managed to find her and was clearly determined to not lose her. It wouldn’t happen either way. Jimmy had never really caught her eye before, and especially not now. But still, it was a nice gesture.

“Before you got here,” Jonesy cut in, “I was just thanking Jim for inviting me to this one, so I suppose I should extend the same to you, Robert.” There was a coy smile on his face.

“I wasn’t in charge of inviting people for that tour. That blame is all on Jim for that one. Practically forced me to do it, didn’t you Jim? And then I lost that stupid bet over the bloody wedding song,” he said with a roll of his eyes. His tone was light, at least.

There was no conversation Calypso would have wanted to be a fly on the wall more than this one. They all just talked and relived their pasts. It came out so easily. This surprised her a bit, at least with Robert. Perhaps he would only relive it with people who were there. People who didn’t have a means of making money out of it. Every interview she’d ever managed to snag said he didn’t do it often. Hell, he clearly disliked talking about anything that wasn’t in the now. He liked to let sleeping dogs lie.

“I simply thought you weren’t interested in it, John. Hardly my fault all you did was complain about Live Aid.”

“Everyone complained about Live Aid. People still complain about our Live Aid set,” Jonesy said with another roll of his eyes. Calypso couldn’t help but giggle a little bit. She leaned into Robert just slightly, glad to be in this moment. There was something sweet and almost pure about it.

For the past part, the three older men bickered about their past. Jason and her just sat there. Both clearly a bit lost. Sure, he’d been around for the first edition of Zeppelin, but he’d only been a child. How could he truly join in?

“Feel good up there, with them?” Calypso asked Jason. Sure, she might be Robert’s for the night, but he was hardly giving her any attention right now. His hand was still on her thigh. It served as a reminder that she was his. Besides that, he was lost to his old friends. A little harmless chat with Jason might be nice. He seemed to be the least intimating of them.

“I feel like it’s what I lived for. Almost could feel my Dad behind me the whole time, cheering me on. I’d like to think he’d be proud of me. Something special about it,” he said with a shrug. She just nodded, understanding a bit. There was something bittersweet about it, she was sure. Jason got to step in with the band he grew up around. The band built so heavily around the drums, the band built partially by his father. Because he did, though, it served as a constant reminder that his dad was no longer there.

“Everyone has that something that connects them back to where they came from,” she said after a moment. She understood that great feeling of loss. Of needing something to feel like they’re still there, right behind you. Even if it was just for a fleeting moment, it would be enough. Jason just nodded after a moment.

The mood between them brightened when the food arrives. Calypso was grateful for that. Otherwise, however long she would be stuck here would be a bit awkward. Watching them eat, she’s amazed how quickly they manage to put their food away. In their defense, they had just finished playing a two-hour long show. She ate slowly, drawing out the small portion in front of her.

     “Why don’t you order something else?” Robert asked after a moment, looking at her.

     “I’m happy with this,” she said before taking a sip of her beer. He just shrugged, not wanting to push it.

     After everyone finished, the conversation from before roared back to life. It didn’t take long for it to turn to the one place she didn’t want it to. The one place that neither her nor Robert wanted it to. “Jason felt pretty good behind those drums. You can’t deny that,” Jimmy began with that smirk. “’I think this shows we could really do it, a full reunion. I don’t see any reason not to. Everyone’s still got it. What do you think?”

     Jason just smirked and folded his arms as he leaned back. This wasn’t his fight to fight. Everyone seemed to understand where this could and would go. Everyone except for Jimmy, that was.

     “I’d be more than happy to if everyone else agrees to it. That is, assuming you mean to invite me.” That was a thorn in his side. Calypso couldn’t blame him. It was said half-jokingly, at least. It almost seemed like Jonesy was trying to move away from the uncomfortableness.

     “No,” Robert answered firmly when Jimmy turned to look at him. “Jim, we can’t. You know that.”

     “I don’t see why, Perce,” Jimmy said. Calypso could see the game that Jimmy was trying to play with the old nickname. Place a bit of guilt and nostalgia into him. To Calypso, it just showed he wasn’t use to not getting what he wanted. “We all felt something special up there, unless you want to deny that as well.”

     “That’s not what I’m saying, James,” he began after a moment. “I felt it too. I’d be a fool to try and deny that. But it just wouldn’t be right. Our, or at least my, Zeppelin days are behind us. That’s all in the past. I’m not that man you met when we were twenty-somethings. We’ve changed. Let the past stay where it belongs.”

     “Robert, there’s no need to-“

     “I said no, Jimmy. Ask my one more time and you’ll never hear from me again.” For the first time that night, Robert sounded truly angry. It scared Calypso just a bit. To that, Jimmy put his hands and finally seemed to back off.

     “Fine, you win. I won’t ask again,” he said after a moment. He looked around, stopping at Calypso with a smirk. It was silent for a few minutes. Uncomfortable, awkward, tense, any sort of unpleasant feeling danced around them. Calypso prayed for a break.

     “How long is everyone in town for?” Jonesy asked after a moment. There wasn’t a better man to break this.

     “A few days. I haven’t stayed in London for so long. I wanted to see if all the old tourist traps are still the same. See some sights before going back to the country,” Robert answered.

     With that, their conversation came roaring back to life. Robert seemed a bit more reluctant to give his part to their past. Jimmy might overstep again. He didn’t want that. It didn’t seem like Jimmy was likely to respect his wishes and not ask again. Hopefully, at least for her sake, he would put off asking again tonight.

     They seemed to talk about everything and nothing. Calypso did her best to keep up. At the beginning, though, she was already lost. It must be something that only they could understand. Only a bond of nearly forty years would allow for it. No time apart could ever break that. They’d been together for so long. They didn’t need to explain much to each other to understand.

     “How often does he get angry like that?” Calypso asked Jason, titling her head to motion to Robert. He was now too lost in conversation to notice. She never would have thought he had this side to him. Always seemed so peace and love, so laid back and go with the flow.

     “I’ve seen it once before. I’m sure they’ve seen it a bit more than that. I suppose Jim knows what buttons to push to get him there,” he said with a shrug. Calypso just nodded, glad that it was unlikely that she could get that response. It eased her nerves a bit.

     “Well, I suppose I should be going. It’s getting late and I’ve got a wife to get back to. I think I’ve kept her waiting long enough,” Jonesy said with a shrug.

     “Still got you by the balls, I see,” Jimmy said. Jonesy just rolled his eyes.

     “However you see it, Jimmy, I’ll be off.” Jason slid out of the booth so that Jonesy could get out.

     “Suppose we all better get going. We’re not young men anymore, not even little Jason here,” Robert said with a chuckle. His hand trailed up Calypso’s leg to her inner thigh. Without even thinking, she spread her legs just a bit. He might not be a young man anymore, but he had the same intentions as one.

     “You’ve got the pretty little thing to play with,” Jimmy teased. She couldn’t help the blush that painted her face.

     “Perhaps,” he said while rolling his eyes. “Either way, I’ve got to be heading out.” Calypso nodded a bit, waving to the last two men before sliding out of the booth. Once he stood behind her, his hand was on her lower back yet again. He was close, possessively close, as they existed the restaurant and entered into yet another car.

[oh-shit-a-baby]

BLACK FRIDAY THOUGHTS PART TWO

A complete compilation of my thoughts throughout the musicals second half,,, this bois going to be real long bc I have a lot of thoughts lol

Now without @drawinglinesinarbitraryplaces :(

Yep dumbledore can still sing

Omg his voice

This song is going to make me cry aaaaa

Becky: you don’t look at all the same as I remember

Me: yeah no shit dumbledore grew a beard

Jesus,,,,, theyre just going to go for it right there,,,,,, ookay

Wtaf is this movie they’re watching

HOLY SHIT HER VOICE IS /PRETTY/ HER RANGE IS HUGE!!!

Idk if this is an unpopular opinion bc no one has an opinion yet but Becky and toms song is the cutest one ever and a bop and I love it

Jesus they payed for a balcony and they’re going to fucking use it aren’t they

WELCOME TO PEIP HQ IM SO DOWN FOR THAT

OH THERE ARE MANY DIMENSIONS????? U GONNA EXPLAIN THAT MR GENERAL MACNAMARA????

The black and white isn’t that what lexs sister was on about

Wiggly is the king u wot m8

President kurt knows nothing about anything and that’s a mood

So if the next movie isn’t about ‘13 years ago’ imma freak

U WANNA SEND ME INTO THE FUCKIN TWILIGHT ZONE AND HAVE DINNER WITH THE DEVIL??????!?!!

NO!!! FUCK THAT!!!!! FUCK THAT!!!!! FUCK THAT!!!!!

^^^president kurt quotes

In short, mr president, we are trying to stop the birth

*dramatic piano*

Of a god.

*dRAMATIC PIANO*

It’s good score tho 10/10

Sherman young

Nuff said

After today’s great battle???

Faith in the one true god!! All hail wiggly!!!

My new religion lol

LET LAKESIDE MALL BE A NEW JERUSALEM!!!!

*cue joey and Robert just screaming wiggly for like 5 mins straight*

NO THEY FOUND LEX

OH YEAH FUCKIN KILL THEM!!!

Who????????

FUCK YEAH LINDA

CULT??? NO! ITS A NEW EXCITING RELIGION THAT I STARTED!!!!

Yeah Gerald

She pronounces Cinnabon as see-nah-bohn what’s up with that lol

I NEED A WIGGLY DOLL...... IDEALLY FOUR OF THEM!!!

IVE MET GOD. HE HAD NOTHING NICE TO SAY ABOUT YOU.

*cue people dying and their mics stopping working*

Holy fuck they all wanna kill Hannah now (lexs sister gets a name now apparently)

LAUREN I LOVE YOU AS A VILLAIN

I would kneel before villain Lauren any day

I will deestroy everything, and then I will deestroy everything, and then I will deestroy everything and then I will oh shit it’s Gerald.

While I don’t want you to think for yourselves I do want you to understand what I mean when I say my evil shit

I’m sorry that choreo is a yike

ETHAN DARLING COME BACK I MISS YOU <<<333333

IM CRYING NOW

He’s in the black and white now we’ll that sounds like shit

NOT ETHAN

Hannah is the unsung hero of this musical so far

*said in wiggly voice* well, webby (Hannah’s spider imaginary friend who I think is gonna be the deus ex machina of this thing) is a stupid bitch!

Rotten little banana. I’m going to peel you. I’m going to split you in two. I’m going to eat you Hannah. I’m going to eat you right now. *all said in dramatic wiggly voice*

Aaand their mics broke again

We don’t get tricked! We’re grown ups!

And Becky and Tom are immediately evil the second they see the wiggly bc of course they are

Jesus beckys the villain???????

Welcome to the musical where everyone gets a villain song AND a hero song??????

Her voice is still beautiful

*Prancing around* DO YOU WANT SOME CANDYYYYY??????

She’s still wearing ethans hat my heart is going to go oh my god

And he just,,,,, leaves Becky to die?????

President Kurt in a space suit oh my god

And America is great again is playing in the background

MACNAMARA SAID ‘GODSPEED’ AND IS THAT A CATCHPHRASE I SENSE THERE

Yeah no president kurt can’t do foreign policy

His name is like howie or something but imma call him president kurt just like Tom was dumbledore for like the first half of this mess

Oh fuck joeys character is here and he’s gonna FUCK PREZ KURT UP

He’s eating an apple that means he’s a asshole

Holy fuck joeys character is like the ultimate capitalist

And also terrifying holy shit

NO MACNAMARA DONT GO IN THERE

Joeys character: Do you think that in the Netherlands they’d care about some toy??? Nah!!! They’re too busy with their free vacations and FREE healthcare!!

(When I refer to joeys character I mean the evil one he just doesn’t have a name yet so idk what to call him)

And joey can still sing I love him

His voice is so good and this whole villain is giving me spies are forever flashbacks

I have absolutely no fuckin clue what’s going on rn

Holy fuck joeys voice is so beautiful and his range is killing me

I take back what I said earlier this song is the best one bc joey

Holy fuck someone just hit like a high d and I have no clue who it was bc the video quality is not the greatest

JESUS THATS TERRIFYING

THE FUCK YOU MEAN DONT BE FRIGHTENED THATS MY SLEEP PARALYSIS DEMON

LOOK AT THIS FUCKER JESUS CHRIST

Wiggly is so scary because he speaks like a child and those are scary

MACNAMARA EX MACHINA

Mac: BEGONE

Prez kurt: SORRY JOHN I FUCKED IT UP

THATS THE HOOK FROM NOT YOUR SEED ISNT IT HOLY SHIT

Joeys voice and acting is gonna kill me

Yeah made in America is the shit

MAC NO U CANT DIE U DIE IN TGWDLM

Also the black and white is a dumb as shit name for an alternate reality

Prez kurt: MERRY CHRISTMAS MOTHERFUCKER!!!!

*wiggly voice* Uh-oh mr prezzy-wez. It seems you’ve misplaced your bomby-womb.

Well shits about to go down

I’m calling it the bomb bombed the White House

Oop no they’ve only gone and lost Moscow

Well fuck here comes ww3 I guess

And prez kurt is definitely insane in the brain

ITS THE HOOK AGAIN THE ‘ALIENS INVADING MINDS’ BIT OH MY GOD I FEEL LIKE A MUSICAL GENIUS

Jesus Sherman is a weird fuck and lex is kinda clever I guess it’s a shame we haven’t seen her for most of the musical

Lex: I THREW EM IN THE FUCKIN TRASH

LEX BABY NO DONT DIE

Lex: Is this what I live for? To be choked in a toy store?

Lexs beautiful song is this musicals version of not your seed but depression

And her voice is /pretty/

MAC?????????????

WHAT??????????????

OH MY GOD HE IS AUTHORISING HER TO USE HIS FIREARM YES QUEEN

I’m sorry lex and Hannah can do what

Jeffs voice kills me him and joey need a duet and that would be the end of me

What did lex just do in so confused

MAC DID THE SALUTE IMMA CRY YALL

And we’re back with Tom

Oh fuck lex is gonna shoot tom

Hold up Tom names his son Tim

Wiggly is playing mind tricks now yikes

Lex: KIDS DONT WANT THAT PEICE OF SHIT!!!

Tom: wat

Lex: THEYRE ALL INTO FORTNITE DUDE!!!!!

So the doll can only fuck with adults not kids???

Jesus Christ this is depressing

U wot lex

Lex: YOURE LIKE 40!!!!! YOU PROBABLY THINK YOURE LIFE IS OVER!!!!

Holy fuck this shit is deep

Wait lex still doesn’t know about Ethan oh my god

And Dylan gets another hero song holy fuck just give Robert a song already everyone else has one

At the same time though this is S a d

I’m not crying you’re crying

YES DUMBLEDORE U HIT THAT HIGH NOTE

Tom: in fact you’re real fuckin ugly

Me: yeah no shit

Lex: FUCK YEAH!!!! Should i move these boxes first?

*cue very clever scene change*

Yeah Gerald no one wants to talk to u

Oh my god Linda leave Hannah and ethans hat alone my heart is breaking for Hannah

Linda: is this some kind of a jooooke?????

They’re gonna set one of their dolls on fire ok ok ok this is fine

More villain songs ookay

If someone could tell me what the fuck is going on in this scene I’d be very impressed

Evil yoga

YES LAUREN U QUEEN

HOLY FUCK IS THAT CHARLOTTE??????

OH MY GOD ITS JAIME IN THE CHARLOTTE COSTUME IT IS CHARLOTTE HOLY SHIT

ITS CHARLOTTE AND THE HOMELESS DUDE HOLY SHIT

The choreo is...... interesting

Cue Robert not-Corey and Lauren being the only good dancers and getting special choreo

FUCK YEAH BECKY WITH THE GUN

LINDA NO

Ookay so everyone’s on fire this is fine

Emma and Paul ex machina

SOMEBODY NUKED MOSCOW!

paul is family third wheeling

YOU KNOW, SHE HAS THIS KOOKY RECLUSIVE BIOLOGY PROFESSOR

*audience fucking looses their shit*

WHO LIVES ON THE EDGE OF TOWN

Paul is having an existential crisi because he sHOULD HAVE WORN A WATCH

Someone’s gonna fall of that staircase by the end of this performance

HOLY FUCK ITS THE HOT CHOCOLATE KID

IT IS THE HOT CHOCOLATE KID OH NY GODDDDD

LOOK AT HIM

It’s the what if tomorrow comes bit!!!!!!!

Okay again this choreo is interesting but the vocals are all S t u n n i n g

They’re literally counting down until the end of the show imma loose my shit that’s the least subtle they’ve been during the entire show

Hang on hang on hang on hang on haaaaang on right there

Did lex just never find out that her boyfriend died we were deprived of a heart wrenching moment when she found out about Ethan

Like jeez I cried and I barely knew him she was dating the guy and just... didn’t ask about him????

ITS THE HOOK AGAIN

That’s it!!!!! Those were my thoughts the first time I watched this through!!!!!!!

Scream at me in the notes with any questions and I’ll try answer them :)

[wincestisasincest]

2000 Man (A beatle!reader story) - Part 1: Madam Beatle

Hello friends! Yes I absolutely am starting a new series when I haven’t finished another one. I was just so intrigued by the idea of a beatle!reader that I had to start something. 

Credit to @casafrass for literally all the ideas and a few of the headcanons, I’ll name which ones I’m using for each part of the story.

Anyway, the story is framed through an interview that our dear reader is having in the year 2000 as she tries to promote her new book, Madam Beatle, which chronicles the story of her life. Expect a lot of flashbacks, and a lot of angst as the stories goes on. Kinda inspired by Slumdog Millionaire. I don’t know how long this is gonna be yet, but expect a L O T. 

Anyway, let’s start, and get ready for more.

Description: It’s the year 2000, and y/n, the fifth member of the Beatles, is advertising her new book, Madam Beatle, in her first interview of the year. We see snapshots of her life, from when she joined the band, to the trials and tribulations, to the death of the band, and everything in between. Loosely inspired by Slumdog Millionaire. 

Part: 1, 2

Headcanons: How the fans would react, how the press would react/how defensive the boys are 

Words: 1,967

Pairings: None, at the moment, just general fluff and friendship 

Warnings: Rude people and language

“Welcome back to the show, y/n. I hate to be the one to say it, but I haven’t seen you since the last millennium.” 

“Thanks for having me, Harold, though I honestly didn’t think I would live to see the next one.”

“Well, I think I speak for everyone when I say that we’re glad you did. How else would we get to see the release of, what was it, Madam Beatle?” 

“Yup, that it was.” 

“Now, I mean this as so insult to your creativity, but I understand that this title isn’t your own thinking, is it?”

“Well, no, it was actually one of the many titles that the press had given me back in our early days. The first article that I read that was specifically about me, was, in fact, titled, ‘Madam Beatle, Yay or Nay?’. It was in a section of a teen magazine, I don’t even remember the name at this point, but it was where the magazine would pose a question in the previous issue, and fans would send letters with their responses. It was usually some sort of yes or no question. I’m afraid I don’t recall the whole thing, but I did save that page of the magazine, and I had it printed in full in the book.”

“Was this article particularly significant to you.” 

“I’d like to think so. I remember reading it and thinking to myself, ‘Wow, this many people I don’t know have strong opinions about me.’ It sounds a little weird saying it out loud, but it was just such a strange concept to me, and was almost completely foreign at the time, though I grew used to it.”

Your hands sealed the envelope closed as you slammed it on top of your growing pile. You felt a little bad not putting the return address on the front of the letters. Of course, you knew full-well that that was Freda’s job, but there was simply so many. She would have to dedicate an hour, at least. 

This response had been something special. Greta, a seven year old from Idaho, had sent you a drawing of herself and you, and you wanted to respond with something equally as awesome, so you sent her a drawing of yourself and her à la colored pencils instead of crayons. Something about children always brought out your soft side, even if it took an extra 10 minutes to answer. 

You tore open the next letter without even checking the front. The address wasn’t really important, it was the name inside. Out fell a small sheet of paper and a crumpled page of a magazine. 

The paper was about the size of a post-it note, with words scrawled on it in thick, black pen: “I’m not the only one who thinks you’re a whore.” 

Shaking, you picked up the crumpled magazine page. You couldn’t figure which magazine it was, but you recognized the format of the column. A point-counterpoint type column, with the page split in half, headed either ‘Yay’ or ‘Nay’, and a collection of responses on either side. Or, they’re should’ve been, as the heading under ‘Yay’ was completely scribbled out by the black marker, leaving only the ‘Nay’ section visible. 

The title of the article was ‘Madam Beatle, Yay or Nay?’, and under the title, in confident, showy lettering, was the question: ‘What do you think of y/n of the Beatles?’

You turned the page over and refused to read it. You knew what this was. You had heard of it. And you had also heard that the best way to deal with hate-mail was to not give into it. To not answer. But you weren’t very good at avoiding temptation. 

There was a knock at the door. You peered through the fish-eye. Yup, it was the four lads, who had almost certainly all lost the room key. You pulled the door open slightly, only to have it stopped by the door chain. 

“Y/n, love, you’re supposed to open the door the whole way.” You didn’t even have to look up to know that it was Lennon, dripping with sarcasm as usual.

“I dunno if I should. I was told by our very esteemed manager Brian that I should keep all riff-raff out of the hotel room.” You began rolling your rs in the way that posh people do.

“Then what are you doin’ in there?” Ringo joined the arena.

“I’m a beacon of morality.” You giggled as you unlocked the door. 

The four blew in past you, moving to all corners of the room, and stretching out on whatever chair or sofa they could find. 

“Was it worth it?” You blew some hair out of your face.

“Nah, he wasn’t home.” George crossed his legs on the coffee table while sitting on the sofa. 

“Too famous for you, I guess.” You crossed your arms and took in the room of disappointed faces. If it were anyone else, you wouldn’t like to say ‘I told you so.’ But, you really did tell them so.

“Ah, just you wait. One day, we’ll be rejecting Elvis when he tries to come over.” John was scrounging through the kitchenette looking for snacks to fuel his sarcasm. 

“Y/n, what’s this?” Paul, who hadn’t spoken yet, was hunched over the table with your fan mail sprawled out on it.

“Jus’ some fan mail that I was getting done, you know, being productive, while I was waiting for you four to get rejected.” You were silently praying that he wouldn’t notice that one shred of hate mail that you had. Of course, it had to be the hate mail that he noticed and not the thousands and thousands of wonderful letters that you had received. If anyone would make a big deal, it would be Paul. 

“No, no, I mean this letter, if that’s what you can call it.” Paul, don’t you do it.

“What does it say?” Ringo called over everyone’s head. 

“I don’t wanna say it out loud, but-” 

“Paul, it’s fine, there’s no fans around.” You just wanted to get this whole thing over. 

“What does it say?” John was looking over Paul’s shoulder at your table. 

“Guys, it’s fine, I don’t ca-” 

“Someone sent y/n hate mail.” 

“What? What does it say?” Ringo and George both went over to join the group, hovering over what you had just opened. 

“Yeah, but it’s like, not a big deal,” you walked back over to join them, “I got all these nice letters from other people, if one person is angry, I don’t really mind.” You patted the top of your stack of letters as there was a small silence. 

“Good girl, y/n,” John strolled to your side and put his arm around you, “Lads, this is the grit that we’re gonna need to have if we’re gonna make it past this milestone.” 

“What the hell are you on about, John?” Paul had finally given up his fascination with the hate mail.

“We’ve got our first hate mail. We’ve officially made it.” You joined a chorus of sighs, but John only chuckled. 

“In fact, I think this calls for a celebration,” he pulled away from you, “Pour the champagne!” He whipped a bottle of champagne out of one of the cabinets and swiped give champagne glasses from the shelf. John and properly confronting the situation was often not a good pairing. 

“Where the hell did that come from?” George chided, though it was through a smile.

“What does it matter? We’re fucking famous!” The champagne was overflowing in the glass that he shoved into your hand. You felt a smile creeping up your face. You couldn’t tell if he was just trying to ignore the situation, or if he was genuinely happy, and frankly, you didn’t care. 

“To hate mail!” The five of you clinked your glasses, somewhat unexpectedly, but no one was gonna turn away a champagne celebration. You took a long sip. He was right. This was just another lesson to add to your collection of things that you had to deal with in the public conscience. First, it was the press, and now, it was some very pissed off fans. Only a little longer until you learned not to care about breathing. 

The next few hours were a blur. Champagne had taken the place of the brandy that you took before shows to ease your nerves, though you obviously weren’t thinking about it at the time, and thus, were slightly more tired and drunk than usual.

Still, the show went fine. You honestly could’ve stood there for an hour and those fans would’ve screamed their heads off anyway. And life was good. 

You stepped into the car that would take you back to the hotel, your feat aching, as they always did, and your eyelids begging to shut. The car lurched forwards. 

“Y/n, I found this for you.” Ringo sat across from you and handed you what looked like a magazine, with his thumb marking one of the pages. You and him had stepped into the car earlier than the rest, as the group always took different routes in order to ease the escape from fans. 

“Thanks, Rings.” You flipped it open, and your eyes recognized the page that you’d landed on. It was the same article from earlier, except that the ‘Yay’ column was no longer blacked out. You smiled. 

“Aww, you didn’t have to do that.” 

“I know, I know, but I wanted to make sure that you have the, the good opinions with the bad, and all that.” 

“Another successful night, lads, and now, to the bar!” John hopped into the car, a tidal wave of fans following close behind. Paul and George then slinked in and the door was slammed shut behind them. 

“What’s that you’ve got there, y/n?” Paul squeezed himself next to me. 

“Ringo found me the same magazine from earlier. Wanted me to see all the  ‘good opinions’.” 

“Awww, Rings! Looking out for our y/n like that.” John ruffled his hair as he shoved himself into the seat next to him.

“I never knew how nasty girls can be towards girls. I always thought it was just the press.” George added his pensive two cents while looking out the window. 

“Hey, hey, it’s the fans, not girls in general. And I’ll have you know, I got several adoring letters from both our male and female fans.” You leaned back in your seat. 

“We have male fans?” Paul laughed. John snorted.

“But seriously, y/n, they don’t mean shit, those girls. We don’t like ‘em either.” John was bad at emotions, you knew this, but his words were some odd comfort. 

“Wow, very nice, you could’ve said that without a bottle of champagne, y’know.” Brian jammed himself in the car next to John and Ringo.

“Here comes the killjoy.” Paul muttered under his breath.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that drunken stumble tonight, Lennon. And don’t think that the audience didn’t notice, either. Very unprofessional.” 

“The only professional here is the driver, Brian, and even he’s speeding a little.” What a comedy duo. The rest of the car cracked up with laughter. 

“Do watch that, Lennon. The rest of you, a little better, but do try to stick to brandy next time.” He took out one of his finer cigars. 

“Tonight we’re sticking to more than brandy.” You added, and the group let out whoops of joy.

“Cheers, love.” Paul gave you a light shove.

Brian’s attempts to control the group were futile. The driver fulfilled his purpose and flipped off someone while slamming on the gas to pull into the lane. You and your best friends sped into the night, leaving all your inhibitions far behind. 

[mithranqueersmusings]

You Were Perverted Too III

Chapter: 3/3

Rating: E (Smut Warning)

Summary: George is finishing up recording for his song While My Guitar Gently Weeps, Ringo thinks it's beautiful but the ending seems a little out of place.

Tags: Smut

Pairing: George Harrison/Ringo Starr

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

George began to move while Ringo remained completely still, he slid himself down gently onto Ringo's lap then pressed an experimental kiss against his neck. Ringo felt completely frozen, his hands were clenched into fists on his lap feeling far too heavy to lift. Was this really happening? Ringo let out a struggled breath, he could feel the heat of it as it bounced off of George's neck. He was certain they'd never been this close before, at least never like this. George pressed another kiss higher up on Ringo's neck where it met his jaw, he grazed his teeth lightly and it made Ringo shudder.

"George..." Ringo huffed out, he wasn't quite sure what he was going to say.

"Mmm?" George hummed against the skin, his hands were moving up Ringo's chest.

"W-What..." Ringo began, his mind was a complete fog "I don't-"

George let out a low laugh, moved one of his hands up to the back of Ringo's neck and began playing with the strands of hair there "Relax." Was all he said.

Ringo tried to relax, he closed his eyes and released the pressure in his shoulders but as soon as George planted another soft kiss he immediately tensed up again.

"What if someone comes in?" Ringo asked in a quiet voice as though the sight alone of the two of them like this wasn't incriminating enough.

"They won't." George reassured, he drew back from Ringo for a moment and cupped his cheeks "It's just us."

George moved in for another kiss, this time on the lips; in his mind, Ringo was prepared to evade it somehow but his body acted completely independently and he felt himself leaning in. It was strange to say the least, to feel the lips that Ringo had become so familiar with across the years. It was a gentle kiss, as though George was still trying to test the waters and was afraid of going too far. Ringo found himself kissing back ever so slightly, his hands seeming to move on their own as one ran up George's back and the other settled on his hip. It felt completely natural, that was the strangest thing, like any other girl was sat in his lap. George pulled away after a few moments, he had a serious look painted across his face yet his eyes were kind, he was clearly looking for some sort of approval. Ringo smiled at him nervously, he felt himself growing a little giddy. George smiled back but it was far from the innocent one Ringo wore.

"You can hear me moan for real, if you'd like." George whispered, running his tongue over one of the sharp teeth.

Ringo felt his face heating up dramatically, all the blood in his body rushing to opposite ends "You were doing all that on purpose?" He asked, but it was more of a statement than a question.

George laughed again, he'd settled quite comfortably into Ringo's lap "Not at first, but it didn't take me long to figure out why you kept getting so quiet and nervous all of a sudden."

Ringo scoffed defiantly "Nervous?"

Something flashed in the darkness of George's eyes and his grin widened, Ringo didn't like the look of the expression one bit. George tightened his grip somewhat on the back of Ringo's neck then thrust himself forward so that his crotch agonisingly rubbed against Ringo's. Ringo couldn't stop a low moan from rolling past his lips which only made George laugh once more.

"Nervous." George repeated, pressing another kiss along Ringo's neck, far more heated this time.

Ringo couldn't deny the tension in his body, but he was determined to not let George completely have the upper hand in this situation. As George began moving his lips higher, finally brushing against Ringo's own again, Ringo let out another moan which was bordering on a growl. He gripped the back of George's slim thigh and lifted him up with ease, he let out a sudden gasp that melted into a laugh, walking the two of them over to the back wall. Ringo locked their lips together roughly, welcoming George's legs wrapping around his waist.

"You know how long I've been waiting for you to do that?" George asked with a sly grin, his hand was running through the length of Ringo's hair.

Ringo kissed him again, teeth began scraping against lips "I'm still waiting to hear these moans."

George raised his eyebrows excitedly, his grin growing "Then give me something to moan about."

No more words were needed, Ringo lowered George to the floor somewhat roughly but it was clear he was still trying to be gentle, then pressed up against him once more for a heated kiss. George had begun breathing heavily, but there was no sign of his desperate moans from earlier. Ringo was determined to change that, as he lowered himself to his knees and fumbled with the button and zipper on George's trousers. The passion of the moment removed all worry Ringo might've had about doing something like this for the first time, no doubt there'd been some experimental times in his youth, it felt completely natural.

"You ever done this before?" George asked, seemingly reading Ringo's mind, he was beginning to unravel but only slightly.

"Nope." Ringo answered simply, he'd already worked George's trousers down and was now confronted with his clothed erection.

How hard could it be? Ringo wasn't going to allow his brain to panic, to somehow talk himself out of it, so he ran with all the adrenaline his body was providing and swore to not let this moment pass him by. He pulled down George's boxers tentatively, his fingers were shaking a little with excitement, and took in the sight that he'd seen so many times before, but never like this. He paused for a moment and looked up at George curiously, as if there was any concern that he wanted to back out but the lust in his eyes said more than words ever could.

Ringo wrapped his fingers around George's length and set to work, the quicker he acted the less likely his brain could register exactly what was going on then begin to freak out. The realisation that he was about to suck off his best friend in a studio where anyone could walk in at any moment, was definitely not something Ringo wanted to think about right now. Instead, he wanted to feel. He pressed his lips against the head of George's cock, drawing out a hiss from the taller man who was biting his lip desperately. Ringo opened his mouth and began swallowing down George's erection, he was surprised at how easily he could take it, and ensured the coldness of his rings were pressed up against the hot flesh that he couldn't fit in his mouth.

"Fucking hell..." George breathed "You sure you've never done this before?"

Ringo chuckled which apparently had been the right thing to do, because George let out a deep moan and relaxed his head against the wall; that was a sound he wanted more of. Ringo pushed himself further, trying to open up his throat to fit more of George inside as he lowered his mouth down further until his eyes began to tear up. George moaned again, Ringo couldn't help noticing how similar it was to the noises he made earlier even if George had sworn they weren't. Ringo then began moving his mouth up and down George's length, it didn't take too long to pick up a rhythm - that had always been Ringo's speciality - and before long George was gripping at Ringo's hair like he was ready to burst.

"Fuck, Ringo." George moaned, sweet and softly in a way that Ringo had never heard him before "I'm close..."

Ringo hummed proudly, slowing his pace a little and experimenting with hollowing his cheeks which only made George lose control even further.

"Shit, shit!" George bit down on his hand to stifle the noises "I'm gonna fucking cum."

Ringo sped up once again, one hand rested on George's bare thigh and the other playing soothingly with his balls. The whole thing felt entirely surreal, he just wished it didn't have to end. It only took a few more motions of Ringo's tongue before George was being pushed over the edge, his screams and moans were muffled against his palm as he spilled down Ringo's throat. The taste was awful, Ringo certainly hadn't been expecting that, but he wasn't going to ruin the eroticism of the moment by spluttering and coughing pathetically. Instead he swallowed down as much as he could, then gently pulled his lips off of George's now shrinking cock. He remained on the floor for a while, looking up at George innocently. George's eyes kept fluttering shut, he was desperately trying to catch his breath as he rested all his weight against the wall.

They didn't have too long to relax, soon voices could be heard down the corridor from the studio and the two of them dashed back to where they'd been previously in an attempt to look normal. Ringo scoffed down a couple of biscuits and swigged his tea to try and remove the taste from his mouth while George tried to straighten his appearance as best he could. John and Paul sauntered in, taking their seats in the room without much thought at all.

"Any luck with the song?" Paul asked with a smile, there was something in his eyes that Ringo didn't like.

"You could-" George had to pause to clear his throat "You could say that."

"Jolly good." John smiled too, looking at Ringo directly with a knowing glare.

Maybe they hadn't been that quiet after all.

[ddproductionsw77]

Feeling It. Chapter Two.

Fandom: The Beatles

Pairings: (Eventually) Paul McCartney x John Lennon, (Past) Paul McCartney x Jane Asher, (Mentioned) George Harrison x Pattie Boyd, Ringo Starr x Maureen Cox

Characters: Paul McCartney, Mary McCartney, George Harrison, (Mentioned) Pattie Boyd, Ringo Starr, Maureen Cox, Ivan Vaughan

Rating: T (Unless Strong language offends you, then watch out)

Description: Paul is trying his best to raise his daughter, earn a living, and complete his education. John is an unplanned complication.

Author’s Note: This is completely a work of fiction, not meant to offend anyone or imply anything about real people. The song for this chapter is ‘Ain’t No Rest For The Wicked’ by Cage The Elephant

___________________________________________________________

John

“John!” A voice yelled, accompanied by a hard smack on his bedroom door, “Get up, you lazy bugger! Nearly 2 in the afternoon, Jesus!”

Somewhere beside him, John felt another body stirring among his sheets. He turned his head and cracked his eyes open to a head of long, curly blond hair and a slender figure. He vaguely recalled the night before, it was just the bird he’d managed to tempt home.

The girl groaned, pushing herself up, “Is it really two already?”

John blinked and looked at his alarm clock across from her, “Uh, quarter till?”

“Shit,” The blond hissed, throwing herself from the bed to begin gathering and throwing on her discarded clothes. “I missed my first two classes!”

Huh, she was in school still... John briefly wondered what she was studying, what she wanted to do with her future? And then his mind turned to his nicotine craving and he remembered that he didn’t care... would she think he cared? Fuck, he hoped not. Emotional birds were a drag to deal with on top of a hangover.

He busied himself with sitting up and lighting a cigarette, trying to sift through his memories for the girl’s name and praying she wouldn’t try to talk to him too much. The only girl he didn’t really mind morning-after chats with was not the girl in front of him. His chest clenched a just a second in something similar to guilty before he blow if off with an exhale of smoke. That girl, the somewhat special one, couldn’t get hurt if she never found out.

Looking at this girl in the morning light, with her make up smudged, hair knotted in the back and a pinched face, John was not all that impressed with himself. He’d pulled much better. Hell, Cynthia was prettier than this bird and Cyn was about as plain as paper to him these days. John thought for a moment that he should have just gone ‘round her place last night. A good boyfriend would have. But he’s wasn’t good at really anything, ‘sept maybe guitar and Cynthia bloody well knew that, didn’t she?

The bird that was not Cynthia glanced up at him to give a coy smile, “So, you’ll call me, right?”

Fuck no, he thought but had the grace to not say aloud. Instead, John cleared his throat and shrugged, “Look, uh...”

“Holly,” The blond supplied, her smile dropping.

Unfazed, he continued, “Holly, me girlfriend might not like that, so probably not.”

Holly looked stricken, “You... you have a girlfriend?”

Before John could answer, there was another slam on his door.

“Bleedin’ hell, Lennon!”

“Oh, fuck off, Sutcliffe!” John yelled back before taking a drag from his cigarette. He turned back to Holly and just shrugged. Yeah, technically he had a girl already. One that was easier to put up with than most others and yet still never enough for John, hence all the other temporary ones.

Scoffing in disgust, Holly rolled her eyes and finished zipping up her dress, picking up her heels, “You’re a swine!”

John honestly couldn’t agree more.

He gave her an apologetic smile and another small shrug. Holly huffed and threw the door open, shoving past Stuart on the other side. The lad watched her go before spinning ‘round to look at his best mate while leaning on the doorframe.

“Fun night, then?”

“It was alright,” John chuckled, getting up and throwing on a t-shirt to pair with his boxers and socks. “Had better.”

“Speaking of fun nights, we still going out tonight?” Stuart asked. “Because I thought you worked?”

“And?” John laughed, stubbing out his cigarette. “Only get the free booze if I’m behind the bar, y’know?”

“I highly doubt that’s the pub’s policy, Johnny,” Stuart commented with a sigh, “Cynthia’s meeting us there, right?”

John nodded and flicked his hair out of his eyes, purposely playing ignorant to Stu’s pointed question as he moved past the other lad toward the kitchen for a drink of water. His mouth tasted like whiskey still and was drier than the Sahara, plus his head was pounding something fierce, “Said she was, least.”

Stuart grinned, “Ah, that’s great! Cyn’s alright!”

Cynthia was alright, John guessed. She was pretty with a smile that even managed to make his lips curl. Blond these days, too, John’s favorite and much more suiting than her once natural mousy brunette. Some of his mates thought she had horse teeth but John had never noticed. But above all, Cyn wasn’t a complete fucking idiot. She actually had a brain, talking to her never dug under John’s skin the way it did with any other birds. It was this unique quality that had made her the only steady relationship he’d ever even attempted.

Attempted being the key word there, seeing as he hadn’t managed yet to stop himself from continuously stepping out on her.

John simply shrugged, taking a drink of his water. He set the glass down and went about opening cabinets in search of something for his headache.

“Oh, piss off, Lennon,” Stuart laughed, “You don’t suffer fools. Wouldn’t still be shagging her if you didn’t like her.”

“Aw, Stu, I’m touched by you’re assurance in my character so as to not stoop as low as to—“

The other cut John off when a raised hand, “Oh, no, no, no, don’t get me wrong, Johnny. You’d definitely stoop that low— I mean you still do with other girls all the time, don’t you? You’re just smart enough to know Cyn’s a bird worth keeping ‘round.”

John examined his glass of water, having found the pain reliever now in his hand, “So, I’m an bastard... but I’m a cunning one?”

“John Lennon,” Stuart gestured the air like he was seeing some billboard before him on the kitchen cabinets, “Cunning bastard!” Dropping his arms, he flashed his best friend a grin, “Got a certain ring to it, doesn’t it?”

John laughed, gulping down the pills and downing the rest of his glass, “Piss off, Stu.” He flickered his eyes away, avoiding his friend’s gaze, “And just so ye know, I don’t like Cynthia. I love her.”

“Sure ye do, Johnny.” Stuart sighed, suddenly sobering. Neither of them spoke the rest of the sentence but they both knew...

Sure ye do, Johnny, just not enough to try and treat her right.

John sighed and began to bounce on his feet to rid himself of the uncomfortable energy rising up in his chest. “Got hours before we got to go anywhere, though, so I’ll be in me room if that’s already with you, mate?”

Stu rolled his eyes, “Yeah, whatever, Johnny.”

Once back in his bedroom, alone in his safe space, John sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He hated feeling... heavy— he refused to call it what it really was: guilt. And he always did when Cynthia was brought up.

He loved her... he did! He just got so fucking bored with her sometimes! He longed for excitement, for the thrill of the flirtation, the constant tug of war, the competition. Cynthia didn’t give him any of that anymore.

John could remember when she’d first caught his eye, over two years ago sitting up straight as a ruler in the row in front of him in one of his various art classes. He liked art but had majored in Political Science for Mimi; hadn’t stopped him from taking a few electives though. Cynthia had been a year ahead, older and wiser and completely uninterested in his immature games. Maybe that had been her appeal, her disinterest and indifference. She’d been work then, hard to get.

She was such a prude, too. That pretty little nose of her’s had always seemed to turn up at the mere sight of him and she’d just rolled her eyes at any of his advances. She’d been engaged to some bloke back in her hometown, some sophisticated git who was just perfect as could be apparently. She’d blatantly told him so when he’d tried asking her out, shutting him down without even a hint of remorse. His pride had been wounded at the time but his want to win her had only grown.

And John was good at the game he played, an expert at the chase, and he’d seen the lingering looks Cynthia still gave him, saw her flush bright red when he gave his attention to other girls and how her lips twitched when he sent a compliment her way. Not long after, word spread around the university that Cynthia Powell had broken off her engagement and was single as could be.

John made sure that wasn’t true for long.

She finally agreed to go out with him to the pub were he worked and the rest was history. Cynthia was the only girl John could stand on a regular basis, the only girl he called his girlfriend, the only girl he kept coming back to. He didn’t really know why, she was just Cyn and he actually wanted to have a claim on her. Being with her wasn’t quite as frustrating as being with others. She had enough of a brain and a bite to be at least a little stimulating.

Still, John knew what people said around them, what they whispered to Cynthia nearly everyday, what they thought.

He’s nothing but trouble.

You deserve better.

He’ll never really be faithful.

And history would prove all them right. He didn’t deserve Cynthia. He wasn’t an idiot, he knew that. He cheated on her, he snapped at her, he treated her like crap most days... but for some reason she stuck around. No one else, besides Mimi, Stu, and Pete, stuck around for John. Fuck, his own mother and father had had little to nothing to do with him since he was just 5— But Cynthia hadn’t left him yet. He was... grateful to her for that. So, John had decided he would keep her for as long as she’d stay; so far that was a bit over 2 years now.

Glancing at his dresser, his dark eyes were drawn to the framed photograph sitting atop it. Cynthia had given it to him on their last anniversary — he’d gotten her a box of condoms. It was a picture of them two of them, sitting side-by-side on the couch in his flat. He was reading, paying her no mind, and she was gazing at him with a small, adoring smile playing on her lips like he was something to be admired and awed by. She looked in love... he looked bored.

Again, he felt heavy and groaned in frustration and he reached out to set the frame face down. He didn’t feel like thinking too much anymore. He wanted to stop thinking.

John sighed and swallowed, going over to pick up his guitar and rid himself of that stupid fucking weight in his chest.

Music had always been John’s escape, even before he could make it. He’d spent hours listening to all the great classics back in his bedroom at Mimi’s growing up. The Isley Brothers, Arthur Alexander, and the greatest of all, Elvis Presley; they were practically gods to him as a boy. He’d practiced till his fingers bleed trying to learn their songs, eventually trying to write his own.

Tuning the guitar, John leaned back again his headboard and began to strum. Strum away all the buzzing, screaming thoughts in his head, calming him mind if only for just a single fucking second. He wished he could share this part of himself, his music, with someone. Wished he could make Cynthia or Stu or anyone, really, understand the way the music felt in his chest, in his blood and his bones.

But that was a connection he’d given up on making a long time ago.

Stu played bass, Pete was alright at percussion and drums, fuck, even Cynthia knew a bit of piano but none of them felt like he did. Music was a lifeline to John. He couldn’t be without it, none of them’d ever gotten that.

Hours later, the boys were dressed and ready to go. The other inhabitants of the flat, another long-time friend, Pete, and Stu’s bitch-of-a-girlfriend, Astrid, had thrown themselves together as well.

Pete had had to style his blond hair three times from John ruffling it each time he’d only just gotten it right and he was wearing a sports jacket, a flannel and jeans. Stuart had put on the clothes Astrid had laid out for him, a navy sweater and tight dark blue jeans. John had rolled his eyes upon seeing Astrid in a matching shade of sequined tank-top and shorts. They were fucking matching these days, God help him.

John himself had simply tossed on the first things he’d found in his dresser that smelled like laundry soap and not sweat. So, basically a plain black t-shirt with a white collar, ripped gray jeans, and his favorite leather jacket with his aviator sunglasses. In his pocket were his Buddy Holly inspired prescriptions for once he got to work.

Emerging from his room, he was assaulted by Pete snatching his shades from his face, “Sun’s down, ye look like an asshole.”

John smirked and plucked the shades back, sliding him back on to his face, “I am an asshole, Pete. Remember?”

The two young men made their way to the living room, purposely shoving and banging into each other just for a laugh. They found Astrid standing on her toes, straightening Stu’s sweater. Her eyes narrowed on John as he enter her field of vision.

“You look homeless,” She commented in her heavy German accent

“And you look easy,” John shot back back only to receive a look of warning from Stuart which he ignored. Stu was his best mate, sure, but he wouldn’t put up with the little blond terror’s bullshit for even him.

Astrid scoffed and upturned her pretty little button nose.

She was fit, sure, with her slender build curved in all the right places, soft features, and pixie cut hair. That part of Stu’s infatuation with her John could understand, but fuck, the personality and attitude on her was the ultimate turn off. Had she been John’s pull, he have kicked her to the curb the next morning, not begged her to come live with him and his mates as Stuart had done.

John supposed that was why Stu had Astrid, who he hardly sent a second a part from, and he had Cyn, who had her own life and priorities that kept her off John’s back. He didn’t see the appeal in all the bullshit people spouted about ‘sharing a life’. Independence got you fucked over a lot less.

“Alright, alright, you two,” Stuart broke in, running his hands down his girlfriend’s arms until he intertwined his fingers with hers. “That’s enough. Let’s just go, yeah?”

Astrid grinned, nodding and pecking his knuckles, John rolled his eyes, and Pete shrugged while rubbing the back of his neck.

Stuart took that as an affirmative.

The pub, called The Cavern, was only two blocks over from the flat. They regularly walked there, all too cheap to pay fare, even on the bus. Astrid got all whiny about the area and how it wasn’t safe for them but it wasn’t like she had much other choice, just as poor as the rest of them. Instead, she just clung to Stuart along the way like a bloody octopus. John and Pete walked ahead of the couple, playfully bantering with one another.

John had been forced to to take his sunglasses off upon stepping into the twilight of outside, being even less able to see than normal. He was feeling bitter as he slide on his prescription lenses, Pete chuckling beside him.

Reaching out, he roughly shoved his mate, “Sod off, Shotton, no one fucking asked you.”

Behind them, Stuart called, “Oi, Johnny, stop being so damn sensitive, would ye? Just glasses, mate!”

John shot him a glare before grabbing Pete’s arm to help him right himself, “Primadonna, you are, son. Toppling like that.”

“Arsehole, you are, John. Shoving people like that.” Pete shot back but there was a grin on his lips. John smirked and any tension instantly defused.

Between Stu and Pete, John could be kept mostly in line. They all knew how easily he could fly off the handle, even John himself knew, so they all worked to make sure the lad wasn’t poked at or prodded too much. John had already spent a few nights in jail for throwing fists around when another drunk at the pub said just the wrong thing and neither Pete nor Stu had the money for bail at the moment.

The only option was just to try and keep Johnny boy out of trouble.

[milkchu]

❝anyway the wind blows❞ five.

Summary: (Y/N) Mercury’s journey of love, fame, and pain, alongside what would become one of the most legendary bands ever, Queen.

Pairing: Borhap!Queen x Reader, eventual Brian May x Reader

A/N: sorry i haven’t been posting !!! this chapter was kind of a pain to write so i apologize if it does seem kinda bad heuheuhsudh. happy reading! 💓

Warnings: Mentions of drinking and smoking, suggestive themes

{previous chapter} {next chapter}

“Do you really think she’ll sing this?” Roger asked, holding onto a piece of paper, while looking at Brian, confused.

Brian shrugged, “It’s worth a try.”

“I do kind of like the song,” Roger said, “But, it’s literally about girls’ arses, Brian, she’ll never sing this!”

“Sing what?”

Brian, Roger, and John all jumped at your sudden appearance, letting out breaths when they see it was just you, sipping on a juice box.

Brian then cleared his throat, and stammered, “Oh, uh, it’s noth-”

“Brian wrote a song,” Roger interrupted, immediately handing over the piece of paper over to you.

The curly-haired guitarist then smacked his blond friend’s arm in annoyance before he started to tap on his chin in nervousness, cheeks warming up, while watching you read the lyrics.

Roger expected a sour look to appear on your face while you read the paper, but then got a smile slowly growing on your face instead.

“It’s alright if you don’t want to sing it,” Brian sighed, “I was stupid to ask-”

“Fuck yeah, I’ll sing it.”

I've been singing with my band

Across the wire, across the land

I seen every blue eyed floozy on the way, hey

But their beauty and their style

Went kind of smooth after a while

Take me to them dirty ladies every time

You couldn’t decide whether you loved America or not. It was definitely your kind of place but, some people can be such a drag.

Like last night, all four of you were out in a random pub and this stocky man kept flirting with you but luckily, your three favorite lads were there to protect you.

All of them were pissed off by it, especially Brian. You didn’t think that it would still irk him until the next day.

Maybe he was just was protective of his friend?

All of the bus trips to different parts of America mostly consisted of you sleeping, drinking, smoking, destroying the lads in Scrabble, and, Roger, sometimes Brian and John, picking up a few girls here and there.

It was a quite annoying and it bothered you a lot, but that was the new lifestyle, I guess.

C'mon!

Oh, won't you take me home tonight?

Oh, down beside your red firelight

“We love you, Cleveland!”

“We love you, Houston!”

Oh, and you give it all you got

“We love you, Denver! Very happy to be here!”

Fat bottomed girls, you make the rockin' world go 'round

Fat bottomed girls, you make the rockin' world go 'round

“And are the crowds big?” Matthew asked through the phone.

“Well, we’re selling out every night. I just wish you were here to see it, they really love us.” You replied, leaning against the payphone.

“We love you, Portland!”

Hey, listen here!

Now I got mortgages on homes

You can’t help but playfully tap Brian’s arse, “He’s got a big arse, too!”

I got stiffness in my bones

“We love you, New Orleans!”

Ain't no beauty queens in this locality, I tell you

“We love you, Atlanta!”

Oh, but I still get my pleasure

Still got my greatest treasure

You called over the blond drummer to the front, “Rog! Come down here and say hello!”

“We love you, Pittsburgh!”

“Roger!”

Heap big woman, you done made a big man of me

“I’m good, I just miss you,” Matthew said, feeling a bit lonely in your shared flat.

“What are you doing? You can’t possibly be having any fun without me.” You replied, playfully.

He chuckled, “Nothing as exciting as America.”

As he was saying this, you noticed a familiar man pass by you, you didn’t realize you were staring until he, himself, stared back and had a little smug smile on his face.

He continued to walk towards the bathroom, your eyes not leaving him.

“Say hi to the boys for me,” Matthew’s voice snapped you back to reality, before you stammered, “I will, I love you.”

“Bye, (Y/N), I love you.” Matthew breathed, before ending the call to go to work.

As the man opened the bathroom door, he looked back toward you once more with a suggestive smirk and went inside.

You put the phone back and leaned against the wall, getting a view of his black t-shirt that had your band’s logo on the back above the word, ‘crew.’

Get on your bikes and ride

Ooh yeah, oh yeah, them fat bottomed girls

Fat bottomed girls

Yeah yeah yeah

Alright, ride 'em, c'mon

Fat bottomed girls, yes yes

 Looking at the closed door with a sigh, you began to reflect on all the times you had felt this way, or had this kind of moment.

 You felt. . . somewhat unhappy or empty. But, what more could you ask for? You and your band were literally rockstars at this point. 

You still couldn’t quite figure it out yet but luckily, the amazing shows and its crowds were there to distract you from it.

 After you had all returned home from the tour, a meeting was set up between the band and Ray Foster.

 It was way past the agreed meeting time and Ray Foster’s office was currently in complete utter silence, except for the occasional tongue-clicking and sighs, as everyone including Reid, Paul and, Jim Beach all waited for you.

The silence was suddenly interrupted with the door slamming open, “Hello,” You greeted, walking in with an outfit that clearly contrasted everyone else’s.

“You’re late,” Foster said with a somewhat annoyed tone, as you made your way to the empty seat, “Am I?”

As you passed by, your bandmates’ eyes couldn’t help but follow your ‘figure’ that Brian definitely did not write that song about, wearing the shortest shorts they’ve ever seen.

Paul smiled, before gesturing towards the empty seat, “Saved you a seat.”

“Lovely,” You said, before sitting down, immediately grabbing a cigarette from your jacket pocket.

“Okay, so, now that we’re all here, Jim, this is Ray Foster, Ray, this is the band’s lawyer, Jim Beach,” Reid introduced them.

“Oh, you must stop calling him that,” You said, as you lit up your cigarette.

Reid sighed, “That’s his name.”

“No, we cannot keep calling him ‘Jim Beach’. No, that’s absurd, not to mention, unspeakably boring.” You counter, before taking a drag.

“Miami,” You announced, Brian letting out a chuckle, “From now on, I dub thee, Miami Beach!” You grinned, as you pointed towards him.

 Jim chuckled, “The sun always sets behind you, doesn’t it? On. . . Miami Beach.”

You shot him a smile in amusement, “Hm.”

“Right. Now that everybody’s got an acceptable name, let’s get to it,” Foster began, “Look, we just really need something special. More hits, like Killer Queen. . . only bigger.”

You grabbed a record from the bag beside your chair and stood up, walking towards the record player by Foster’s desk.

“It’s not bloody widgets we’re making,” Roger chided, “We can’t just reproduce Killer Queen.”

Replacing the record with the one that you brought, “No,” You set down the tone arm onto the record, “We can do better.”

As music started to play, you looked towards your bandmates with a knowing smile before taking a drag out of your cigarette.

Brian looked at you in amusement as you started to sway around behind Foster, “It’s opera,” Foster said with a deadpan tone.

“Opera!” Reid nodded, before Paul joined in too, “Opera!”

Your bandmates nodded in enjoyment as John says, “Yeah, there seems to be an echo in here!”

Swaying along with the music, your bandmates join along as well, while Foster just looked at you in bewilderment.

As the louder part of the song came, your hand moved along with it, ending literally with a bang on Foster’s desk.

You and your bandmates began to shake, trying hard not to laugh out loud at Foster’s reaction.

Afterwards, you slowly swayed your way back to the record player, before turning down the volume.

“See, we don’t want to repeat ourselves, the same formula, over and over,” Brian explained.

“Formulas are a complete and utter waste of time,” You continued, as Brian nodded in agreement.

“Formulas work. Let’s stick with the formulas, I like formulas,” Foster said, a smile growing on his face.

Completely ignoring what he just said, “We’ll call the album. . .” You looked over towards your bandmates, “A Night at the Opera.”

Foster sighed, “Are you aware that no one actually likes opera?”

“I like opera,” Miami chimed, “Do you?” Foster looked over to him before Reid chimed in as well, “I do.”

“No, don’t misunderstand, darling. It’s a rock and roll record. . . with the scale of opera, the pathos of Greek tragedy, the wit of Shakespeare, the. . . unbridled joy of musical theater,” You grinned.

Your bandmates nodded in agreement, before you continued, “It’s a musical experience, rather than just another record.”

“Something for everyone. . . something. . .” You looked over towards your bandmates, “Something that will make people feel belongs to them.”

“We’ll mix genres, we’ll cross boundaries, we’ll. . . we’ll speak in bloody tongues if we want to!” You chuckled.

“There’s no musical ghetto that can contain us!” Roger argued.

“That’s it,” You pointed towards him.

“No one knows what Queen means because it doesn’t mean one thing!” John added.

Foster sighed, before looking over towards Reid, “What do you think, John?”

“I. . . agree with the band,” Reid gestured towards you all before Foster replied, “Of course you do. How about you, uh. . .”

“Miami,” Jim answered, as you look at him with a grin, “Fortune favors the bold.”

You turned towards Foster, placing both your hands on his desk, “Surely, a man of your. . . unique taste isn’t afraid of a little risk?”

Foster then shook his head at you, “Please don’t make me regret this.”

You grinned as you pointed towards him,

“You’re fun.”

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