#even the cameraman was thinking 'george you seeing this?'

[javelinbk]

Sixty years ago today, Paul straightened John’s tie (affectionately)

The Beatles performing If I Fell at the Cow Palace, San Francisco, 19th August 1964

[david-talks-sw]

"If it's amazing, they'll know."

When talking about "George Lucas' vision" and the original six Star Wars films, there's one thing to bear in mind and that's Lucas' style of filmmaking.

These are movies for kids, designed to emulate the Saturday matinee serial format from the '30s, à la Flash Gordon. You see this most of all in the dialog. But something else you notice is George Lucas' filmmaking style, particularly in how he films and edits.

Take Darth Vader's introduction, for example.

Look at the composition: Vader stands tall, in contrast to the - as the script puts it - "fascist white armored suits of the Imperial stormtroopers". They're all in white, he's all in black, he's bigger badder, emerging from a cloud of smoke. What an entrance.

But if you think about it, it's just a single full shot. Very basic.

Compare this to Kenobi, wherein Vader is treated like a monster out of a horror movie. First, you glimpse his shadow, people reacting...

... then ominous bits and pieces like his boots or his lightsaber...

... and finally Vader himself, in all his terrifying glory.

That's a modern way of shooting it and it admittedly makes ol' Darth seem that much more imposing and absolutely badass.

But Lucas comes from a background of editing, experimental filmmaking and used to work as a documentary cameraman.

So what he did is just put the camera down and have Vader walk in. It's a faster yet differently-efficient way to introduce the character. It's more about dynamic pacing and visuals.

And that is Lucas' style. In his words:

"The way these films were put together, they're shot very much like a documentary film and the action of stage, and then I shoot around it. I don't stage for the camera. And as a result, there are a lot of things that happen pretty much by accident. It lends an aura of authenticity to everything." - Star Wars - Episode I: Podracing Featurette, 1999

Another example: the introduction of General Grievous.

A door opens revealing his ugly mug and he walks in. Boom.

But in Star Wars Storyboards: The Prequel Trilogy, you find that - as envisioned by the storyboard artists - our introduction to Grievous would've been very different.

"We wanted to have the introduction to Grievous be a series of really close shots that would be a series of details: his creepy foot, his creepy hand...

... his scary alien eyes...

... but George brought up an interesting point. He didn't want the film to concentrate on one design detail or one element— but rather let the world be there and let the viewer find those things without necessarily having it shoved in their face." - Derek Thompson, SW Storyboards: The Prequel Trilogy, 2013

"George nixed the idea, saying: 'I don't want something to be special because of how it's filmed, but because of what it is. Just put the camera on it and let it play out in front of the audience. If it's amazing, they'll know.'" - Iain McCaig, SW Storyboards: The Prequel Trilogy, 2013

That's it in a nutshell. "If it's amazing, they'll know."

The above storyboards look awesome and seeing Grievous be introduced that way would be great... but it wouldn't be Lucas' Star Wars. It would be some other director taking a crack at it.

And this way of shooting can be weird, even boring, at times. I mean compare Mace leading his troops into battle...

... to Aragorn leading his, in Return of the King.

The latter is so much more emotionally impactful. For a number of reasons (eg: Aragorn is a deuteragonist, Mace is a secondary character with less development), but one of them is that the moment is just shot in a way that's more interesting.

First we have an angle on Aragorn as he smiles and charges. Then the rest of the other characters as they react and follow suit, then the troops do the same.

With Mace it's, uh, *checks notes* he flourishes his saber and charges, the clones follow. Hell, for half a second we're looking at just an empty screen.

But y'know what the shot does look like?

It looks like something out of a WW1 documentary.

It's that authenticity he was mentioning further up.

At the end of the day, you can call it campy or bad... it's Lucas' style. It's cinema. There's a logic to it.

"To me, the script is just a sketchbook, just a list of notes, and, sometimes, I prefer the documentary feel of free flow, so I let my instincts tell me where to go. I like to create cinematically; I don't like to have a plan. I like to have a rough idea of what I'm going to do-certain themes, certain issues I'm going to deal with-and then I try to do so." - The Making of Revenge of The Sith, page 116, 2005

He doesn't try to make a character look particularly badass with camera angles or make the shot too choreographed, he just goes with the flow, and makes the deliberate choice to shoot it that way, because for better or for worse... it's his movie.

So yeah, just a tidbit I thought would be interesting.

Edit:

@schilkeman added this very interesting point in the replies:

"He doesn’t stage for the camera, but he does compose for the camera. The documentary style, while somewhat detached, requires the filling of the screen with motion and light. The way things move through frame seem very important to him. These are things his films excel at."

[jestbee]

I posted 1,075 times in 2022

That's 380 more posts than 2021!

589 posts created (55%)

486 posts reblogged (45%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@lostinmcyt

@masterbaited

@jestbee

@alittledizzy

@scoops404

I tagged 938 of my posts in 2022

Only 13% of my posts had no tags

#mc - 598 posts

#jane answers - 231 posts

#dnf - 170 posts

#dream - 96 posts

#dnp - 81 posts

#gnf - 56 posts

#atsoop - 42 posts

#dnf fic - 41 posts

#dreamnotfound - 38 posts

#dteam - 28 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#dream was like here is where u dud an awesome play and fished some pearls and george was like yeah well here is where i died multiple times

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

I choose to believe they're getting the entire howell-lester clan together for Xmas, somehow I think Adrian and Cornelia might get along?

80 notes - Posted November 28, 2022

#4

Oh noo hope you feel better soon and it heals fast!!

I'm thinking about sapnap. How devoted he is to them, how much he loves them. He moved to dream and drove from Texas to Florida with one day notice and when George said he was lonely in London, the next day he renewed his visa :(( they all have such a strong bond, they choose eachother over anything else..

Sapnap is ride or die. Dream once said the thing he loves most about Sapnap is that he "has never once doubted that Sapnap is [his] boy and will have his back through anything". And you can see it.

Like, however much Sapnap and George have a sibling-like rivalry, Sapnap would go to war for George if he asked. (And he might, knowing George).

He was "just the cameraman for now" and made sure George and Dream were both okay during their meeting and was happy to take a back seat and that in itself is fucking amazing.

And it's not just dteam. He and Karl have a tax that if you cross one you pay the price of having crossed the other by default. He defends his fans in valo lobbies when people try to talk shit. Hes allowed to rio the shit out of his friends but if anyone else tries it he'll kill them with a glance. Heck, even for all the ways he has a tendency to get caught up in trying to seem cool, he's never once rolled over on his friends or what they do and the game they play even when it would have been easier to do so.

Sapnap is ride or fucking die.

83 notes - Posted November 22, 2022

#3

i like how phil sits next to dan when they eat rather than across from him

If I had Phil Lester in the house I'd sit next to him too

104 notes - Posted June 11, 2022

#2

I cannot shut up about how Dan was in that video. Like, it had such good vibes. Relaxed, mature, comfortable?

The persona as we know it was gone, remember when he seemed so angry all the time? It's just so so sooooo nice to see him happy and proud of a thing.

After everything he's been through to come out the other side like that. You love to see it

189 notes - Posted May 21, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

All the sunlight of our past (COMPLETE)

Phan, E

Tags: Exes to lovers, canon divergence, secret identity

Summary:

YouTube is a mess.

Phil's been struggling with it for a while and has just taken a job as a video editor to make ends meet while he figures out whether he still loves it anymore.

Dan's channel has been dead ever since he started working at BBC Radio One and the two haven't seen each other in years.

During a chance meeting in 2019, Dan gets papped coming out of a gay club and his life is sent in to turmoil. He blames Phil, because it had been his idea to go there in the first place, so they're straight back to not talking.

The only recourse Dan has to salvage his career is to return to his YouTube channel after all these years and make a coming out video on his own terms. What he doesn't know is that Phil is the editor he just hired to help him with it.

Notes:

Written for @oldschoolpbb with accompanying art by @snekydingdong

[Read on ao3]

195 notes - Posted May 14, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[strawberrymilkgeorge]

Part Two. Jackbox Shenanigans

warnings: swearing word count: 2.6k (not including pictures) behind the screen (irl dream x reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

Y/n flinched awake, startled by the sounds traveling from the kitchen. Once again, the frosty air pricked her skin, trying to convince her to not move, to stay in bed under the warm blankets. Despite the feeling pulling her into her bed, she rubbed her eyes and sat up, grabbing her phone from her nightstand. Texts from Karl flooded her screen and she replied as she took her comforter off her mattress and wrapped it around herself. She pattered to the source of the noise to find her roommate was making food.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" Naomi asked, eyes wide with concern as she looked at Y/n. "I dropped a pan."

Y/n, who was observing the world through one squinted eye, shook her head and she sat at the counter in the kitchen. "No, I should be awake anyway."

"You're usually awake much earlier. Late night?"

Y/n nodded. "George streamed and we all talked for a little after."

"Oh, yeah, I watched his stream this morning..." she started, eyes focused on the food in front of her but Y/n still caught the mischievous glint in her roommate's eyes.

"Of course you did," Y/n laughed through a yawn. "That's your lover."

Naomi rolled her eyes. "Maybe if you gave me his number he would be."

"He doesn't give it to many people. I just barely got it and I've been friends with him for a year. I'm pretty sure Karl doesn't even have it."

Naomi groaned, though Y/n knew it was a joke... for the most part. She got another text from Karl, and consulted Naomi for a second opinion.

"Should I post this?" Y/n asked, lazily holding up her phone with a picture on the screen. Naomi squinted as she looked back over her shoulder. "Karl keeps yelling at me too."

"Yeah! That's a cute outfit. Make sure to credit Karl or he'll yell at you for that as well."

"No chance I'm doing that."

.

Incoming FaceTime... karol <3

Y/n hit accept and held the phone up to make a face at Karl. He mimicked the position. "Hello, sir."

"Hello, ma'am."

"What are you doing?" she asked him, walking to the bathroom to brush her teeth, her comforter dragging on the floor behind her as it continued to protect her from the cold.

Karl got distracted and started messing with something out of the camera view. "Um, trying to figure out what to do for my stream tonight. What about you?"

"I'm waiting for you to give me a fit check!" Y/n yelled. Karl quickly looked at the camera and smiled. He set his phone down on his desk and ran backward so his whole body was in frame. He posed awkwardly a few different ways before running back and resuming his position.

"Yes!" Y/n hyped with a mouthful of toothpaste. "Let's go, Karl! Karl with the old man sweater!!"

He giggled. "You're the one that told me to buy it."

"Because it's sick. Doesn't mean it didn't belong to an old man before you."

Karl pouted before his face lit up. "Guess what. I met a girl."

"Oh?" Y/n cooed. "Where? Do you have pictures? Is she cute?"

"She's Jimmy's new cameraman. Camerawoman. I don't have pictures, and yes. She's very cute." His cheeks turned red and Y/n smiled, flipping off the bathroom light and heading to her closet. She threw her comforter back on the bed and tried to pick out an outfit.

"Come on, bud, elaborate. What's her name? Have you asked her out yet?"

"You don’t get to know her name, I don’t want to jinx anything. Plus, you’ll just look ‘Mr Beast crew’ and find out anyway. Also, no, I haven’t. I'm pretty sure she thinks I hate her because I have not said a single word to her. I get so nervous when she's around I freeze up and just like... act weird. And then as soon as she's gone, Chris freaking roasts me so bad."

"Aw, I can teach you how to flirt if you want!"

"Yeah, okay," he scoffed, sarcasm dripping from his words.

"What's with the attitude? I'm great at flirting."

"No, you're not. I watched Gogy's stream last night."

"What does that have anything to do with anything?"

"I heard the way you spoke to Dream."

"What?!"

"You have zero game, Y/n. Absolutely none. Zilch, if you will."

"Yeah, because I wasn't flirting with him?"

"Not successfully, at least."

"Karl, what?" Y/n laughed but she was so confused. "No part of me was trying to flirt with anyone in that stream."

"Oh, come on," Karl groaned. "Don't do this again. Don't pretend to not like a guy and then cry to me when you're wack ass attempts don't win him over."

"Karl," Y/n started, looking directly at him. "I genuinely have no idea what you're talking about. I wasn't flirting with him. I do not like him."

"I'm just saying, you talk about him a lot. Like, you always panic when he interacts with your posts because you're scared he's going to DM you right after. And you gush about him a lot."

"I do not gush. I admire the hard work he puts into his videos but I talk the same about him as I do with George and Sapnap. The only difference is I'm friends with them and not Mr. Minecraft. He's intimidating, that doesn't mean I have a crush on him."

Karl stared for a moment, trying to read Y/n's expression to detect any lies. "You'd tell me if you did, right?"

"Karl, I tell you everything. I'd tell you if I murdered your family." They both laughed. "It's impossible to hide anything from you, you're my best friend."

"Okay, sweet, but please don't murder my family, just to be clear."

"I won't. I love your mom too much."

"Well, how was meeting Dream, then? Despite apparently not being in love with him?"

"It was cool. Terrifying because it felt very forced but the four of us hung out on the call after George ended his stream and he was much more relaxed."

"That's true. Aren't we all?"

"Not you! You're the exact same person on and off camera. Just a little ball of giggles."

Karl giggled which made them both laugh more. Suddenly, as if he completely forgot until that moment, Karl sat up quickly and yelled, "What am I going to do for the stream?"

Y/n shrugged. "See if anyone wants to play Jackbox. Chat always loves those and it's relatively easy to throw together last minute. You just need to find people that are free to play."

"Genius. Who should we invite?"

"We?"

"Yeah. It was your idea, you have to play."

"But, I've never played! And I barely know all your friends so I wouldn't get half the inside jokes. I'd be a boring addition."

"Please? They're your friends too! You just talked to Sapnap and George for four hours yesterday and George was the only one playing anything. That's friendship if I've ever seen it."

"But... others.... like literally everyone besides Sap and George...."

"Things like this are how you get to know them better. Besidessss, you're never boring."

"Fine, I'll play."

"YES!" he shouted. "Okay, who should we invite?"

**********

**********

Y/n huffed and scooted her chair closer to her desk. She pulled up Discord and hovered over the voice chat everyone was in. An overwhelming number of voices chaotically spoke over each other as soon as she joined.

"Oh no," she mumbled.

"AYYEE!!" a voice yelled, the green bubble lighting around Quackity's name confirming her suspicions.

"Aye," she said back less enthusiastic. "Hi everyone."

"She's here!" George cheered.

Y/n could hear Sapnap huff. "Finally. Geesh."

"This isn't even your stream, calm down." Y/n's eyes scanned the names on the left to read who else was involved in tonight's games. She had suggested a few people to Karl but wasn't sure about the final list. Besides the boys who had already greeted her were BadBoyHalo and Dream.

"Hello, Bugsy! It's nice to meet you! I'm BadBoyHalo."

Y/n smiled widely at his voice. "Hi, BadBoyHalo! Nice to meet you too."

Her eyes slowly traveled to the last name on the list, which had yet to greet her. She wasn't bitter, but she was curious why he hadn't said anything yet. The boys hyped up him talking about her so much but she had yet to feel that energy from him. She picked at the bottom of her hoodie, eyes darting between the names as they lit up when someone spoke.

"Is Dream still AFK?" Sapnap asked.

"I think so," Bad replied.

Maybe that's the only reason he hadn't said anything. Y/n felt stupid for thinking it had anything to do with her.

"He's probably coding something or something like that," George teased.

"Haha nerdy ass man," Quackity cackled.

"Language."

"Don't you also code shit, George?" Sapnap called out. "You're probably helping him test something after this, huh? As Quackity said, nerdy ass man."

"You know what, Sapnap? I'm not sure I like your attitude all that much."

Y/n smiled. Despite feeling nervous, she was already having fun just listening to everyone talk. The real nerves would kick in when they were live in front of tens of thousands of people and she would have to be funny.

A message popped up in the general chat, notifying everyone that Karl was joining the voice call soon so they shouldn't say anything bad.

"Everyone say something weird," Quackity directed.

Discord dinged and Karl's name joined the list on the side. "AAAHHHH-!" he started yelling over everyone to let them know he was here in case they were saying anything bad. With his luck, they were going to say stuff anyway to mess with him.

"So, yeah, that's how I lost my virginity," Quackity said as if he just finished a story.

"To a prostitute?" Sapnap added quickly. "Wow, I never thought you... oh Karl!"

"Language!" Bad gasped.

"What the..." Karl laughed loudly. "What did I just join?"

"Oh, sorry, sorry, sorry," Quackity apologized, which was hard to make out since he was laughing so hard, surprised at what Sapnap added to his joke.

"Bad, you can't say language about a prostitute," Sapnap defended. "That's really rude of you. Maybe it's a little unconventional but they're just tryna make some money the best way they know how."

George laughed with Quackity as Bad sputtered. "I-I said language about what Quackity said!"

"What, virginity?" Karl asked innocently and Bad yelled again.

"Bad hates people who have had sex!" Y/n called, causing Quackity to laugh loudly.

"Bad! How could you?! That's so messed up!"

"Wait, guys, is everyone here?" Karl asked.

"Dream isn't. We don't know where he went."

Karl groaned and started typing something, presumably yelling at Dream to join.

"Let's goooo! We're popping off!" Quackity started saying, stalling. "We're popping off!" George joined him, becoming absolute fools to keep the chat entertained.

"Okay, he's here!" Karl said. "Everyone's here!"

"I'm here, I'm here, sorry. I was... yeah, sorry," Dream stuttered out.

"Welcome back, Dream!" Bad chirped.

"Hello!" he replied. Unexpectedly, his next greeting was directed at Y/n. "Hi, Bug."

Y/n instantly got shy for no discernable reason. She blamed it on his voice and its ability to manipulate emotions any way he wanted. That and she was getting attention from someone first. "Hi," she squeaked back, hoping the contrast of her icy hands would cool her face enough to focus on the game.

"Bugsy, you are adorable," Bad stated simply.

"Sapnap! What did you just send me?" George asked loudly, and just like that, the attention was off of her and she could breathe again.

"What?" Sapnap feigned innocence.

This was going to be a long game.

"Let's play!" Karl decided. "Should we warm up with some Quippy?"

Y/n focused intensely on her answers, silently hoping the others would find her funny.

"Oh my gosh," she mumbled as everyone else finished writing. "Y'all, I'm about to get Quiplashed so hard. Don't make fun of me."

"I seriously doubt it," Dream said. "You can't possibly be worse than George at this game."

"Shut up, we always-  it's like 3 am my time. I can't, like, think of things 'cause my brain isn't functioning."

"Yeah, that's why," Sapnap teased.

"Surreee," Dream said.

The first round wasn't too bad. Y/n was in 5th place but she got quite a few laughs so she didn't care too much about where she stood. She got a notification from Dream on Twitter as everyone laughed at one of Quackity's answers.

Y/n looked back at her screen and saw the new prompt and answers. She read them quickly as everyone was laughing and with a few seconds left to choose, voted for the one on the left. It was funnier anyway.

She loosened up substantially after another round, and she knew it was mostly because Dream had reached out to her. Something about him comforted her and made her feel safe, which warmed her heart.

"Bugsy! What the hell, that's so messed up. You're so messed up," Quackity yelled, laughing at the answer on the screen. They were playing Survive the Internet and her comment got taken way out of context, just as the game intended.

"Oh my gosh!" Karl cackled loudly. "Bugsy, I didn't know you felt that way. Oh my gosh? They're just kids?? Bugsy out the gang?"

Y/n hid her face in her hands and laughed. "Noooo!! Wait I never knew- I didn't know I was ever in the gang?"

"She really said, 'infant children? slaughter them all'," Sapnap joked.

"You know, I think you'd get along really well with Technoblade," Dream added. "Though his specialty is orphans, as it appears."

"No, no, no, whoever wrote that heading is SO messed up!" Y/n defended, rereading the heading that made her comment look bad. She knew it was a game but all the attention on her was making her embarrassed. "Who would think to put that?"

"Everyone cancel Busgy!" Karl yelled.

"Karl, no! You're supposed to be my best friend!"

"I don't know how I feel about my best friend killing children..."

"Karl!!"

"Nooo," Bad protested softly. "I like Bugsy. Don't cancel her."

"Everyone vote!"

The article with Y/n's name turned out to be Dream's. "Dream! What the hell is wrong with you?" she yelled, causing him to wheeze loudly.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I wanted point."

The whole night ended up being like that. Y/n had a lot of fun and by the end, she felt a lot more comfortable with all of them. Quackity, Karl, and Sapnap were loud and very high energy while George and Bad were quieter. Dream was half and half, sometimes matching Quackity's volume and sometimes going a while without saying a word. Overall, Y/n had a lot of fun and hoped to let back in the gang in the future.

**********

PREVIOUS • NEXT

**********

A/N: WOOO PART TWOOO!! Hope you guys enjoyed this part! Also thank you so much for all the love on the first part!! I did not expect it to get as much attention as it did!!!!!

we clearly haven’t got to dream and yn being close yet bc they literally met the day before this but i added a small little dream/yn moment :] pls let me know how you liked this part!!!!!!!!!!!! 

taglist: OPEN (at the time) @hydrate-tion @loraleiix @tinaswagbd @charsdummb @smileyyuta @1ghoste1 @cerberus-hellhound @gaysludge @queestionmark @carnations-red @letsloveimagines @the-fictionwriters-hairdo @boiled-onionrings @a-cryptic @fee-btheweeb @letsloveimagines @erwinss @just-a-stan

[princessofprocrastination]

Not The Same (GeorgeNotFound)

summary : you put out a song, but it attracted the wrong type of crowd and caused too many misunderstandings.

trigger warnings : threats (including death and doxing), panic attacks, taking of meds. 

"you're THOSE type of fans, huh?" you read the comments on your newest song release.

and that was the start of your downfall.

-

you and your dad really enjoyed singing. at any opportunity you two got, you would be doing a duet.

whether that would be at at a close relative's wedding or your at home karaoke set up, you two knew how to entertain people.

though singing was your passion, you ended up being too busy with school and trying to graduate with a diploma to even think about singing again.

but you swore to make a career of your singing after high school. you just loved it too much.

but then, you didn't go to college for music, which pretty much shocked your parents and your friends since they knew your only passion in life was singing.

but you took a different direction. you still wanted to sing and you were trying your hardest to find a way to make that your career.

someday, anyway. but you needed to have a plan to fall back into in case anything goes wrong.

you were a realist, after all.

so off to college you went.

you spent long hours studying for tests after tests, sat through hours of lectures, did endless amounts of projects.

in the end, it was all worth the wait and fatigue. you graduated top of your class.

you went off to be an intern, clocked in more hours before you could fully go into the next phase of your life.

and after those long hours, you finally made the decision (with the support of your parents) to take a gap year.

but before anyone panics. your gap year was not all fun in games where you took to rest and lay in bed all day.

you took the gap year to see if the music industry fits you. to see if you even had the chance to succeed.

and if it did, you could finally have your dream job. but even if it didn't you were not going to be upset if you needed to fall back onto your backup plan.

in the duration of the gap year, you took voice lessons, and poetry classes for song writing.

and with whatever you have learnt, you took that into writing songs that you felt really relate to your life experiences.

so you spend at least a couple months writing multiple songs.

after almost 2 years, you finally came out with your first song. and it definitely got recognition. more than you thought you'd get, if you were being completely honest.

and that was what pushed you to sit your ass back on your desk to write more, and go into your makeshift studio and make the words into songs.

your parents were ecstatic to hear that you were finally doing the things you loved. and you knew you'd never get this far if it weren't for your family's support.

and so your music journey began.

it was going well for years. you were finally happy doing the one thing you enjoyed doing.

and you definitely think you were good at it. seeing and hearing the positive feedbacks from your family, friends and listeners. 

you felt good. 

but you lost that feeling when you came out with a new single, called ‘fan of you’. 

you spent a while working hard on that song and you felt relieved when it was finally released. it was like a weight was lifted off your shoulders. 

and you weren’t sure how one thing led to another, if you were being honest. at first, you received good feedback for your new songs. you even gained new listeners and your spotify rank rised. 

but then it didn’t anymore. 

your twitter flooded with mentions and your instagram full of tagged pictures and dms by accounts you’ve never heard of. 

but you noticed a similarity with all of the spam. a guy name george. georgenotfound for short.

you being you, you looked into it. and that was when all of the information hit you. and all you had to look up was your name on twitter, and there it was, the longest thread of tweets you have ever seen in your life. 

you took time to read it all, trying to make sure you didn’t miss anything crucial. 

there must be an understanding. you didn’t know this guy name george. you’ve seen his face on pinterest once a while when you scrolled, yes. but you never looked into him. 

this amazing person took their time to gather every bit of information there was about the scandal, which you were grateful for, or else you’d be scouring the internet for hours. 

to summarise what you read, there was this artist by the name of tia jade who came out with a song a few months prior to yours called ‘just a fan.’ 

it was a good song, some say, and you could agree. it was professionally written and produced. but many fans of george found out that the song was about him. 

not just about him, but about her falling in love with him, when she has never met him. and when his fans started to really listen and analyse the song, it got creepier. 

basically, the song was about a fan falling in love with a celebrity/content creator and that they want to know them beyond their persona online. 

but tia had apologised a little after the song came out, saying that she made that song based on a fan liking a content creator, and not about her falling for george. 

but when you read enough of the issue, it definitely did seem like she was making that song to tell her story about falling for george. but she obviously needed an excuse to cover it up. 

hence the apology. 

and then you read about how they analysed your song, too.

they compared your song to tia’s and found it to have similar stories. stories about how a normal girl is falling in love with the man by the name of george, who had millions of followers on all social medias. 

and if you admitted it to yourself, your song did seem to come out that way. especially if your mentality had been there. clearly your song could have been interpreted in many different ways. 

you scrolled to the very bottom of the thread where there was a video of the man himself, george. he was addressing the issue. 

“i don’t know how this happened twice. i thought once was weird enough, but.” he paused, focusing on building something on his screen. 

“having heard of a song being about me again now makes my skin crawl.” he finished. it was short but enough to make his fans understand where he was coming from. 

you scrolled further to see the replies of the thread. you wanted to know what were people saying about it. 

and you definitely regretted your decision to do that. 

threats everywhere. death threats, threats of beating you up, threats of doxing you. god the negative comments were drowned by the one’s that genuinely thought nothing wrong of your song. 

you called you mom. this was the time you needed her advice. you needed to be told what to do. you didn’t want to accidentally trigger people. 

you and her were on the phone for hours. she listened to you cried to her. she heard the painful sobs that came out of your mouth whenever you reminded yourself of what people were calling you on the internet. 

she heard you cry silently on call when you saw your address and phone number being leaked on twitter. 

but even through all of that, you joked around with your mom. “well, this was a hell of a way to be trending.” 

you did what she told you to do. get a new phone number, stay in a hotel for a couple days while you try to settle the raging crowd of georgenotfound fans down. 

in the span of a couple weeks, you got yourself a new number, a new house and a new car. you weren’t taking any chances. 

you told no one besides your mom of the new changes, just to be safe. 

and no, the threats did not cease. at all. these people did not have a life, constantly up in your dms, telling you to jump off a cliff or them hoping that a robber stabs you and leaves you dying. 

you took your time trying to figure out a way to talk to george. or a way to speak out about this. 

you didn’t want to write a half-assed notes app paragraph apologising when- first of all, you had nothing to apologise for and second, you had too much to say to fit it all in a notes app. 

lucky for you, you didn’t need to start your own channel or make a sit down video on your own. 

your recording label had brought up the idea of a documented series about you and how you became a singer about a year ago, and only started filming and posting the episodes a couple months prior on youtube. 

so you took the series to your advantage. you pitched in the idea to your manager, to which she agreed to immediately, knowing that it was best you talked about it now. 

this was how it played out on the perspective of viewers who watched that episode. 

“bless you.” your producer says after you paused your singing in the mic as you stopped to sneeze. 

you gave him a smile and a thumbs up from inside the booth. 

the camera cuts to another clip. 

the cameraman pans as they captured movers coming in and out of your old house, picking up your heavy furniture and boxes into large trucks to move into the new place.

 it cuts again. this time it shows you scrolling on your phone with a focused face while your manager types something vigorously on her computer. 

the camera tries to focus on your phone, and sees that you were on twitter, reading a lot of tweets under your name. 

you exited the app and slide it away, going into youtube next, reading the comments on your song ‘fan of you’. 

you scrolled far, clicking on some of the comments, trying to read the replies to certain comments you saw. 

the camera cuts into a black screen. which then cuts again into a new scene, where you sat on your new kitchen counter talking to your mother, who sat on the chair in front of you. 

your hair was up in a ponytail. a messy one. you were wearing sweatpants and a hoodie that seemed far too big on you, and your feet covered with fluffy socks.

you were nodding to whatever she was saying to you. it was clear your mind was elsewhere as your eyes were unfocused. 

the scene cuts again. 

you were seen on the couch, your legs were tucked into your arms and your head down, body shaking. it was obvious you were crying. 

you were alone, your mother no where to be seen. 

that was the first time the camera caught you crying. 

the scene cuts as you were going to get up from the couch. 

now, you were in the kitchen again, opening the refrigerator to take a water bottle, then walking to your room upstairs. 

the camera follows behind you slowly into your room. 

it hadn’t been the cleanest. there were a couple shirts on the floor, your bed undone, cups on your side table, your laptop open on your desk. 

you were seen opening a drawer, taking out a small white bottle. you unscrewed the bottle and took out 2 pills, popping them in your mouth, drinking water straight away after that to swallow. 

the scene cuts again. 

this time, you were seated on the couch in the studio, the atmosphere dark and quiet. 

your hair was more kept this time, being help up in a clip. 

you were wearing straight jeans and a slightly oversized sweatshirt. you looked more refreshed this time. but it was obvious you hadn’t slept in a while because of your eyes.

your eyes that usually held a lot of happiness and joy turned dull. 

“it’s been a while since i’ve spoken to a camera.” you offered a small smile. your song ‘just a fan’ was playing in the background of the clip. 

the scene cuts again. 

“when i released that song, i was genuinely proud of the work i had done.” you paused for a while. besides the song playing in the background, it was silent. 

“but i guess the joy didn’t last very long.” the scene cuts there. 

it transitioned to a collage of what people were saying about you. it showed clips of people talking about it on youtube. they even showed george talking about it. 

and it cuts again. 

it showed a different clip this time. a clip of your ex boyfriend and you at the beach on a picnic, that was taken by a close friend of yours. 

this was when you were still in college. 

it showed all the fun memories you two made while you were still together. 

it showed a video of him studying in the library, flipping through his papers and scrolling through his laptop. it was clear he was hard at work, not noticing you filming him. 

but then the scene cuts again. and the music turned somber. 

your ex boyfriend’s grave. 

it was the day you were visiting him. you sat down next to his stone, a blanket under you. 

you were just staring at his stone, not moving. 

and it cuts again. 

“he was one of the most driven person i have ever met.” you told the camera. 

“he knew when to be serious and when to have fun.” you looked down in your hands and played with your rings. 

“all he ever talked about was becoming a surgeon. he worked hard in his intern years and continued being passionate through his residency.” you spoke up. 

“people had only nice things to say about him. the only bad thing they would say about him is that he can be pretty uptight sometimes, especially when he was stressed about something.” you laughed a little. 

“i was a huge fan of him, even when we just saw each other in the hallways. he’s just amazing. i’ve always wanted to be just like him.”

“i wanted to write a song about him but i didn’t the song to be sad.” you said. 

“and that was when the song ‘fan of you’ was created. 

the scene cuts there and goes into another. 

you were in the recording booth again, this time, you were singing into the mic. 

the camera pans to your producer and manager dancing and bobbing their heads to the beat. 

the scene cuts, officially ending it with a black screen with ‘the end’ in a fancy white font. 

you busied yourself with writing new songs as your name got trended again on twitter. 

and george has never felt worse about himself ever in his entire life. 

-

he watched the episode as soon as dream sent it to him. 

“you’re an asshole, george.” dream sends to him, along with the link of the video on youtube. 

as the video ends, he decides to read the comments, wondering what it was like down there. 

it was the worse mistake he had ever made in a while. 

but he knew he deserved it. he did assumed it was about him, just like the last song made with a drawing of his glasses as their cover photo on spotify. 

this time, there was genuinely no reason to think that this song was about him, or anyone with a following whatsoever. he just believed what his chat told him. 

sure, there were some familiarity of the character in your song and him, but the world did have 7.6 billion people living on it. 

“so, here i am apologising.” george says to his camera, live. his tone was very sincere and apologetic. 

“this shouldn’t have gotten this far. they shouldn’t have gotten threats at all, let alone death threats. they shouldn’t have woken up to the world knowing where they live and what their phone number is.” 

“and if you’re watching. i sincerely apologise. i clearly was full of myself.” george finishes. ending the live with a small wave. 

and were you watching? hell yes. 

and that was the day the two of you followed each other on instagram. 

he used your songs as his intros of his live, (with your permission, of course.) you showed in your documentary that you were watching whenever he was live or watching his youtube videos. 

and that was the start to a beautiful relationship. 

you sat on the chair, going live. you waved as people started joining. it went from hundreds, to thousands in seconds. 

as you were talking and clicking on your keyboard and mouse, playing a game, you felt arms around your shoulders. 

you smiled, yet continued playing. 

“why are you live on my account?” he laughs. 

you disconnected the headphones so that he could hear what you were hearing. 

“george, you’re being replaced.” dream said on discord. 

george smiles, giving you a kiss on the top of your head. “that was well deserved.” 

[tibby]

i keep getting followers on letterboxd despite the fact i haven’t logged a movie there in over four months. anyway since i can’t just make unlisted posts there here is a brief review of just some of the movies i have watched since the first of june:

paul mccartney really is dead the last testament of george harrison, ★★: absolutely terrible film filled with absolute nonsense but also the greatest thing i’ve ever witnessed. the whole movie is about how much george harrison hated faul (fake paul, who replaced real paul mccartney when he died) but at one point he just starts being like “ringo was dumb as shit and had no fucking talent.” incredible animation.

snow white a deadly summer, 0 stars: i can’t remember if i actually logged this one but i also can’t be bothered to check. half the scenes took place at night but they just dimmed the exposure. also had nothing to do with snow white besides the stepmother talking to an evil version of herself in the mirror. which they never explain btw.

secrets in the water, ★: this wasn’t meant to be a comedy but it kind of was.

shark side of the moon, ★★★★★: at a certain point in my tubi original viewing experiences i have to stop ranking them based on quality and start ranking them on the sheer concept. and russians sending humanoid sharks to the moon during the cold war who then form a shark super army intent on taking over the earth and also for some reason there’s a shark that looks like a human who gives birth to baby sharks. all the sharks spoke english in russian accents btw which is weird because there was only one 100% human on the moon and he was a russian man who didn’t interact with them. anyway. lifechanging film.

the andy baker tape, ★★: the stars are mainly just because i think it’s sort of righteous when youtubers get murdered.

cries of the unborn, minus a million stars and plus ten million aborted children: steven 15 great kid you should see him play lacrosse he's always on his phone texting tweeting he doesn’t even know half the kids i can’t remember the last time we had a real conversation it’s like his phone is surgically attached to his head.

the invitation, ★★: i mean everyone keeps saying it’s just ready or not meets get out meets vampires if none of those things were good and it’s kind of true. one star for nathalie emmanuel giving it her all and one star for the two sexy vampire women.

a lifetime movie starring heather morris that i forgot the name of, ★: heather morris can’t act.

the quiet ones, ★: olivia cooke babygirl you were never gonna get an oscar for this but i respect you for trying.

ouija, ★★: olivia cooke babygirl you were never gonna get an oscar or a glaad award for this but i respect you for trying.

ouija: origin of evil, ★★★: did elizabeth reaser and lulu wilson and that one guy watch mike flanagan kill someone? they’re good actors but his refusal to let anyone else on his payroll is kind of concerning

alone in the ghost house, ★★★: each star represents the only good moments in the movie, which were arguably the three greatest moments in the history of cinema. the first is when they bring in this psychic and the cameraman asks her if she was in a coma on september 10th 2001. the second is when the psychic rolls around on the grass and talks about how it’s so cold in reference to the ghosts but one of the guys is just like “well yeah you were just lying on the grass.” the third is when the psychic opens a seance by stripping and doing a belly dance.

tow, ★: imagine being a tubi original film starring kane hodder that advertises yourself as a slasher and not only are you NOT a slasher film but you are also boring.

blonde, 0 stars: i watched this movie with my friend on teleparty, making it the only film i watched semi legitimately, and it was not worth it. i missed the first 40 minutes and i didn’t lose anything for it. ana de armas is trying for her oscar but at what cost. there’s a talking fetus in it. charlie chaplin jr is made out to be a sociopath for no clear reason. the amount of times i said “what” during this film is staggering.

house of wax, ★★: objectively not good but a lot better than i thought it would be and kind of an unsettling concept. sad that paris hilton and her boyfriend weren’t the final girl & boy and instead it was the folger’s incest commercial twins.

fifty shades of grey, 0 stars: there has never been a movie character as dumb as anastasia steele.

fifty shades darker, ★: christian grey gets into a plane crash and won’t go to the hospital and is surprised when everyone is in his apartment all worried about him. which is kind of drake walker core so it deserves a star for that.

do revenge, ★★: i think i’m like insane because this movie was not good and everyone is treating as if it is when it’s just like if someone tried to make thoroughbreds or heathers politically relevant but failed miserably. also failed miserably at rg/wf and subtle attempts to rip off mean girls. that said alisha boe is the sexiest woman alive and camila mendes should egot.

rush for your life, ★★★: perhaps too high a ranking but when it’s a tubi original produced by marvista the bar is on the floor so an actually somewhat decent movie is always a delight. they blew their budget on cameras and production design so the wardrobe is all from shein but keeya king was a lead that knew she was too good for this movie but she still gave it her all anyway.

marrowbone, ★★★: i avoided watching this movie for ages because i knew it would be bad and i didn’t think my best friend and my wife would change that. they didn’t but the ending is funny as hell. anya really said stay mentally ill baby <3

the lamp: just believe, whatever my ranking was when i logged it like a year ago: i’ve seen this movie three times now, which is the same number of the globes that the main character has in his house. who needs three globes?

homoti, ★★★★★: it’s gay E.T. what’s not to love.

mac and me, ★: i think watching this back to back with homoti while stoned out of my mind was either the best or worst idea i’ve ever had. still not sure.

friend request (2016), a million wasps: NOT the one starring brian from the breakfast club. i honestly don’t remember much of this movie and i doubt it was very good but wasp elevator 2022 experience.

[grgrbr]

this is so embarrassing but im thinking abt the food-cute date again... sorry if i write whole ficlet thing here LMAO but imagine:

george takes a picture of wilbur's food, thinking that it'd be a fun inside joke if they posted each other's food. he takes his photo, but when it was wilbur's turn the man suddenly gets all groan-y and keeps "tsk"-ing.

"what?", george asks, confused at what's annoying wilbur.

"can't find a good angle... can you hold the plate up for me?"

george rolls his eyes but does as he's told anyways, waiting patiently for wilbur to finish. when the man finally smiles in satisfaction, he lets himself smile as well and starts eating. it's not until hours later that he realizes what wilbur put up in his story.

when he confronts wilbur, the Above Average Height man just laughs a bit and waves off his reddening face. "it seems that people found it amusing", wilbur mentions nonchalantly. george once again just rolls his eyes, amused by the whole situation.

so the next time they properly go out to eat, even though they're both tired from walking around for hours trying to find a nando's, george still had a hard time stopping himself from smiling when wilbur takes a picture of him. and to be fair, who wouldn't have a hard time smiling when this fairly attractive (and admittedly, very charming) man teases and taunts you to just smile.

"aww come on gogs, just smile for the camera mate!", wilbur laughs out, his dimples proudly sitting on his beautifully pink cheeks.

"fuck off", george says, trying to hold an annoyed look. when wilbur puts the phone down, he finally lets himself laugh.

the set of stories was received greatly like the first time. it's been set in stone as an inside joke for them now— a "meow duo" thing, as the internet dubbed; a "wiggy" thing as wilbur fondly labelled tiredly during one of their discord call sessions.

wilbur had teased him about it, but they both knew there was a solid amount of truthfulness in his words.

"you're a very pretty fellow, george. i'd quite fancy you as a model."

so when tommy's cameraman offered to take proper pictures of them as they waited for ksi, george kept a serious look in his face, gazing intensely at the camera. he only rolls his eyes with a smirk when wilbur wolf-whistles at him while tommy laughs at his big brother figure.

when they've finished the recording and they're out eating, the place didn't allow more than 2 people to sit together. suspiciously enough, tommy grinned at sitting away from his beloved big brother. george tries to not mind it, only laughing at wilbur's seemingly embarrassed glare at the blond.

"let's- cute date?", wilbur stutters out. george scoffs, letting a small smile grace his lips.

"sure. oh, should we let james take the pictures?"

"ah, yeah! yeah, that actually sounds good."

the man must've heard them, because james was already standing up to take a picture of them. wilbur grins widely at the camera, and it was immediately done and over with. george's turn comes around, and at first george keeps a dead look to the camera.

"gogs, come on man!"

george rolls his eyes, before smiling sweetly. had wilbur been a teenage girl stuck in his bedroom, he would've been editing hearts on the man right then and there.

when he posts the pictures later, george giggles at him on call.

"i finally smile for one and you don't even use that?"

he hears wilbur giggle nervously, and a beat passes when the man speaks up. and even though wilbur has his shitty phone mic and george was only wearing half of his headset, he still hears wilbur's response loud and clear.

"well, yeah. that one's for me."

NO DONT APOLOGIZE OH MY GODDDDDD THIS IS AMAZING AND SO SWEET AW :(((

user breastmaster64 / paperclxps never misses !!!!

the thought of wilbur having more pictures of george smiling especially after their whole 5 nandos trip ,, i need to see it NOW

[worldtourrampage]

Lizzie’s Rampage! 🏙💥🦖♀️

CHAPTER TWO: Day 1 - Peoria, Illinois

⭐⭐ BREAKING NEWS ⭐⭐

Good evening. This is Nancy Scott with WBC, World Broadcasting Corporation. Tonight's top story is a world news report. I'm reporting live from Peoria, Illinois, covering the destruction of this midwestern city at the hands of three monsters; mutated human beings exposed to radiation from an explosion at the ScumLabs facility in Toxic Hollow, another Illinois town a short distance from here. I've been allowed to stay alive while reporting on the monsters, who are calling themselves George, Lizzie and Ralph, in exchange for documenting their destructive rampage across the state of Illinois, and soon, according to the monsters, the entire Earth! They think they'll be on the winning side of history against humanity's armed forces and wish to have their legacy documented for future generations. We'll have to wait and see whether this prediction of theirs comes true or not. Oh, one moment...yes...yes...okay...I’ve been notified just now by Lizzie that I am to start writing what she says down and post it to her blog, or...uh...I'll be digested without a second thought. *ahem* Well, on uh, that note...here is Lizzie's perspective on this path of destruction being carved through Illinois, and possibly your hometown soon...stay safe America...

⭐⭐ LIZZIE'S TAKE ⭐⭐

With Toxic Hollow a pile of smoking rubble, George, Ralph and I made our way to the nearby city of Peoria. It was our first step towards wiping out the state of Illinois, and someday the rest of the world! ScumLabs already did most of the work for us in Toxic Hollow with the lab explosion, but Peoria we dismantled with our bare hands from start to finish! In that sense, it was a rather significant chapter in our tour of destruction! Peoria was home to nearly 120,000 people before we showed up. That number plummeted after we had our fun!

While we there, we destroyed many homes in the suburbs and city buildings! One of them in particular caught my eye. It seemed to be some sort of video game development studio known as Game Refuge. I read the name off their sign before punching it to pieces! I wonder what kinds of video games they made...Well, it's no matter, they should have been making games about US, the MONSTERS! Maybe they'll learn their lesson now that all their precious game development equipment is a pile of scrap metal! Next time, make a game about US!!!

⭐⭐ FACT TIME! ⭐⭐

Nancy's not the only one that can do this job. CAMERAMAN!! Get my good side. I SAID MY GOOD SIDE!! There we go, you're capturing my beauty quite nicely now. Here are a few interesting facts about Peoria prior to its destruction beneath our feet!

📌 A war known as the Peoria War was fought by humans here during the War of 1812. It involved battles between Native American tribes and American settlers, and it lasted for about a month. Humans seem to fight and shed each other’s blood a lot. And somehow, we're the monsters? Why don't you humans look at yourselves in the mirror before criticizing us?

📌 Peoria is an archetype of midwestern American culture, so much so that the phrase "Will it play in Peoria?" has become something to say when questioning the mass appeal of things like stage plays, books, television shows and movies. Peoria is also commonly used as a filler town name for when one is needed in fictional stories. Well, I'll say this much; we certainly played in Peoria! And the only thing it's filled with now is the smoldering ruins of toppled buildings! Ha ha ha!

📌 Michael Jordan made his NBA debut with the Chicago Bulls in Peoria back in 1984. He was never cool enough to make it into Midway's NBA Jam, Hangtime, Showtime or Hoopz games though (The best basketball games ever! I would know. As a bit of a Midway star myself, (See? Told you I was a narcissist.) I know a thing or two about good video games, and Midway made a lot of them!). It's a shame he wasn't in Peoria when we destroyed it! I bet he would have made a nice meal.

⭐⭐ SCORE SHEET! ⭐⭐

For us monsters, destroying things is quite fun! In fact, George and Ralph started keeping score of their rampaging, so it's time I followed suit! Let's see if you can top this, boys. Dr. Veronica seems impressed! Ladies can total cities too, y'know!

Well, with Peoria wiped off the map, it's time for us three to make haste to the next city! You better have written everything down, Nancy. YES, I MEAN ALL OF IT. Don’t play games with me...where was I? Oh yes. Our hunger for RAMPAGE is insatiable!! I’ll see you all next time, when we destroy...

KANKAKEE, ILLINOIS!!!

[lispectore]

I always thought quacknap weren’t going to meet up unless george was there (like i assumed quackity would visit florida once george was there to meet dream and sapnap) but this worked too and it was saur cute like george being a little buffer for them to get comfortable with each other and they have such a good duo dynamic as well as obviously working so well with george it was so nice to watch !!! amazing stream and i cant believe quackity surprised us like that AGAIN...

omg yes!!!!!!! i never noticed how older brother vibes george has irl because we never saw him with his closest friends irl. like, yeah we saw him with wilby and tommy and jack and they're all great friends, but i think george is a still a little shy around them? but with q and sapnap you could see how he just wanted to watch his friends have fun, even deciding to be the cameraman and let them do what they want and create chaos which made them bond together even more on camera. it was beautiful and i can't wait to see 5/5 together, because i used to think that gnf would be the most unhinged one, the "baby man" <- stole this from wilby mwahahah, but after yesterday i think dream and gnf will be the ones trying to keep karl q and sapnap from burning a house down

[transpidergwen]

Obi Wan Kenobi is shot like they think it's Saving Private Ryan but without all of the elements that make that movie work. The way Spielberg shot it was designed to make you feel like you are there on the beach, so the camera is handheld but everything is in frame and the takes are LONG to ground you in the dirt with those soldiers. It's shot like a documentary crew was imbedded in the landing, the camera is down on the ground hiding from same gunfire as the soldiers.

Obi Wan just looks like the cameraman tripped during every single take and they cobbled together some rapid cut patchwork monstrosity rather than just putting the camera on a fucking dolly. Maybe it's to make it seem more intense because it was just two groups blasting at each other from across an open room (seriously thank God stormtroopers couldn't hit a wall at point blank range because those rebels didn't even TRY to hide behind anything other than Obi Wan as he blocked like 2 shots). But we already know there's a way to make that intense because George Lucas managed it on a decimal point of the budget this series presumably has in the very first movie in the very first scene! There's nothing scarier than a small group of rebels trying to repel an endless stream of Stormtroopers, that's the microcosm of the entire rebellion. We just need to be able to fucking SEE IT!

[donaidk]

Teddy bear - George Russell

A short but fluffy little thing. I couldn’t really think about anything else after seeing this photo 🥺

Special thanks - @formulola​ for sharing that photo and giving me all the feels, idea ❤️

Using the pass that Sara, one of the people behind the team’s christmas project, gave me a few days ago I entered the paddocks and immediately went to the Williams’ motorhome so i could meet up with her. After last season this one was a lot calmer, making it possible for me to travel with George to most of his races. I didn’t meet him yet after flying back home for the past two weeks and as I was planning a surprise for him it wasn’t a possibility to get my usual pass for the circuit from him. Luckily his media team was in on the secret and could get one for today that I could use before George would give me the other one tonight.

„ Hello! ” I quickly greeted everyone when I stepped into their office and Sara stood up as soon as she saw me. „ Hope  I’m not too early. ” I let out a sigh as we exited the room and I followed him inside another one that already had the cameras and presents set up.

„ No, you’re perfectly timed. They just left for the track walk so we at least have time before they would get back. ” She shook her head with a smile, closing the door behind me.

„ Even if he sees me here, he won’t know what’s happening. ” I shrugged a little, chuckling as I took my bag off my shoulder so I could open it. „ I don’t have it wrapped yet. We had like two papers at home and I knew he would recognize them. ” I got the plushie out from the bottom of my bag finally, fixing his little shirt.

„ That’s okay. I still have to wrap some, one more won’t break me. ” She shrugged with a smile, taking the teddy from my hand and placing it on the table next to the papers.

„ I can help if me staying isn’t a problem. ” I offered, taking a seat across from her when she handed me a roll of wrapping paper. I took it as her accepting my idea and I was happy to help, so we can be ready quicker.

It didn’t take long for us to finish up the task and I was just putting the last piece of tape onto my gift when we heard the guys arriving. The only things I knew it about was hearing George’s voice, and I panicked for a moment. By reflex I hid the green papered present at the bottom of the pile, even though I knew he wouldn’t be able to see inside of it. It was seconds after I got up from the chair when the door to the room opened and George’s head popped inside. He was just about to greet Sara when he saw me and could not stay outside. Seconds later he was next to me, with his arms around my body and I let out a laugh as I hugged him back.

„ Thought you wouldn’t get here until the evening… ” He looked at me curiously when he could finally let go of me a little. „ Not like I’m complaining, you just surprised me. ” He added, chuckling and I didn’t even know how much my ears missed that sound, until now.

„ Yeah, that was the plan. I finished up yesterday and caught an earlier plane here. ” I shrugged a little, grinning up at him when we let go of eachother. That’s when I realised how hard it will be to keep the secret to myself for the next day, until they’re gonna finally film the unwrapping.

~ ° ~

As Christmas time and the end of the year was getting closer all the F1 teams made sure they had enough content before the holidays would fully start. At Williams they already got the guys to film a little present opening video, where they had to get a stocking together for their teammate. Just when they gave the fans a sneak peak, they got another idea and let some of the fans send in little things for their drivers to open up. It was of course quite monitored, and they checked everything before it would get into the video as a present to either George or Nicky. I would have attended the filming anyways, as I always did when I was at the race circuit with them at the time, but then I realised it would be the perfect opportunity to surprise George with what I have been hiding from him for the last two weeks or so.

„ How far back would you like your gift to be? ” Sara asked me, while they were getting George ready behind the table. My little present was already next to all the other wrapped ones. I knew which one contained the little plushie, so I would know when it was about to be opened

„ It can be wherever you would like, but I don’t really know how much he will be able to focus after that. ” I let out a little laugh, making her smile too as she went back to get all of them in order.

I saw as she put it around the middle, and I was about to laugh at how unfocused George will be after opening it when he looked straight at me and I had to make sure to only just smile. I didn’t want to spoil the surprise for him, and he knew me too well. It was already hard to stay silent about this for the last week, as I really wanted to plan the perfect announcement. This felt like a creative way of doing so, even though I was second guessing myself if he would be okay with me doing it so publicly, but I knew it was just probably hormones playing with my head.

„ Ready? ” We heard the cameraman ask and as soon as everyone gave him a nod they could finally start the quick countback. I watched as he started the camera and George looked right into it, to start his intro that they asked him to do.

I sat down a few meters away so I wouldn’t be in the shot but I could see him unwrapping everything. He seemed excited and I couldn’t help the smile that got on my face as we got closer and closer to the light green papered one, that was covering a piece of our future. It was so strange to know how much of our life will be changed in just a few months, hopefully only in good ways. When my present was handed to him I forced myself to take a deep breath as he started with the unwrapping. Just seconds later it’s ears were already visible and he took the rest of it out while a smile got on his face. It had a tiny Williams shirt on, with the ’World’s #1 dad’ text across it. I saw as confusion ran through his eyes but he still looked up at the camera with a smile.

„ I don’t really know what to say, but thank you! ” He let out a laugh and looked down at the little bear again, trying to figure out what it actually meant. „ Do we have a note for this one? ” He asked Sara, as there were some which included little letters from the sender, to explain the present.

She looked at me as an answer and when I looked back at George he was already looking at me confused. I already had my hand in front of my mouth to cover my grin, as I knew the camera would turn to me forsure. I motioned for him to turn the plushie in his hand so he could see the little ’to be’ text on his back. I wanted it on it, but more hidden so the bear could be relevant even after they were born, even though I knew he would love it nevertheless. He was still confused as he looked up at me again, his eyebrows furrowed. It made me laugh how clueless he was and that he couldn’t figure it out, even with all the tips.

„ I just hope they won’t inherit your discursive skills. ” Sara spoke up, making us all laugh as he looked around gnawing at his bottom lip, before his eyes landed on me again. I had my hand on my stomach instinctively, giving him another tip towards the solution.

He needed a second or two and one more look at the teddy’s clothing before his jaw went slack at the realisation. We moved at the same time and met in the middle as he hugged me to himself. The plushie was still in his hands as I hid my face in the junction of his neck and shoulder. I knew I was tearing up but I was sure he wasn’t any better if the wetness of his cheek on my neck was any indication. We stayed there for a second longer as I felt his hands clutch onto my sides. When we finally parted a little I leaned back to look at his face and with a chuckle, tried to get the tears off his cheeks with my thumbs. I gladly received his kiss, although tried to keep it short in front of his team, who were all clapping around us.

„ I knew that there was something… You were too quiet and sneaky. ” He sighed but I could hear the happiness in his voice although I knew it was probably still quite unbelievable to him. „ Since when? ” He shortly questioned before he would have to sit back so they could finish filming.

„ Around two months now. ” I answered, letting him rest his forehead on my shoulder again as my hand came up so my fingers could comn through the short strands at the nape of his neck. „ Go, wrap up the challenge. I’ll tell you everything afterwards. ” I promised him in a whisper, before giving one last little kiss to the corner of his mouth as he was lifting up his head.

I thought he would never let go of me but then gathered some willpower and stepped back from me so he could go back to the chair. I sat back down in my previous spot, pulling the light sweater around me a bit more, while I watched him take the last few presents so he could open them up. I knew he wasn’t as focused as before, but luckily his team was rather happy for us than angry with him for rushing a little in the end. They didn’t even try to get him to say a full outro, probably giving it to Nicky rather, so that he could leave a little earlier with me by his side, as he didn’t really want to let go of me after I was back in his proximity.

In the end they made a fully separate video just from the parts where he got the Teddy bear unwrapped and finally realised what was actually happening. The challenge came out just a few weeks after the shooting and then with our permission they shared ’our’ video on Christmas Day. This way we had time to tell our families and friends, so they didn’t have to find out from a YouTube video but at the same time the fans didn’t have to wait a lot longer. Never have I ever thought they would take it so well and we would get so much love and well wishes from them from the moment the video was public for them too. It made the holiday season even better as we felt like we were celebrating with all of them from around the world. I would have never changed it though.

[themagicalmysticalboy]

Rarepair week, george&paul? Angst/comfort maybe? Let it be era? Hurt my soul :)

a/n: you’ve got it babe! i actually did some research for the flashback scene so it’s pretty accurate to reality, according to Ringo’s and some crew member's accounts.

Don��t Let Me Down

For as cold as it had been for the last month, the sun was shining high in the sky. A peculiar sight that brought a hint of warmth to Paul’s face but did not extend further than that. He could be in a summer's day desert and still feel the cold churn in his stomach. Looming tall and strong over him was the Abbey Road studio. The uncharacteristic beams of sunlight lit the many windows with a yellow glint. A million-eyed monster ready to tear him to shreds if he dared step closer. And he did dare. He peeled himself off his car and stiffened instantly. He’d been leaning against the passengers' door so long that when the wind hit his back it sent a shiver right through him. Or maybe it was solely his nerves. Either way, he didn’t plan to dwell on it.

A few Scruffs were waiting outside with paper coffee cups in hand and drink carriers stacked against the wall. So George was in. He had really come back. The cold churn rose to his chest. At this rate, he’d be a human popsicle by lunch.

There was a disjointed chorus of “Hi Paul” and “Good Morning” which he replied to with a courteous wave. He’d been largely turned off by the Apple Scruffs for some time now but there wasn’t really any malice. Having your house broken into was more than a bit off-putting, though. So he felt justified. George was the most tolerant of them, buying them coffees and breakfast foods every so often. They must have missed him while he was gone. Yeah. Surely they did. Because I did. Paul pushed the sentiment to the wayside. They still had an album to make. They still had songs to record and a documentary to be part of. He couldn’t let his emotions get the best of him again. That had only led to an explosion.

Preparing himself with a stiffened posture and pushed back shoulders, he walked into the studio with a smile. It was almost painful to keep up but the cameraman was already in his face and he refused to let on to his nerves. He needed some inkling of control here and there was so little of that to grab hold of these days.

When he walked into the recording room, he found people scattered across the room but he didn’t find John or Ringo. It was still early in the morning so it made sense but he was undoubtedly rattled by the realization, becoming more rattled when he noticed George looking at him. Paul didn’t dare meet his eyes, drifting down to his feet. He looked soft, despite his sharp features. Cozy in his furry boots and warm jumper. He missed looking at that face and touching that body and kissing those lips. He wasn’t sure how long it had been since he’d been able to do any of that. Too long.

George gave a thin-lipped smile before turning to Billy Preston at the piano. Was that a good sign or was this small sign of grace feigned for the cameras?

Whatever it meant, it drove Paul mad. He didn’t think he deserved forgiveness but he sure as hell would take it. There was no helping the intrusive memories of the aftermath of George walking out. He had done it so nonchalantly that no one was sure he had actually left until they got to the recording room and found him and his guitar missing.

Something had shifted in the room as soon as the three remaining Beatles looked at each other. John was breathing heavily with an icy glare. There was a glint in his eye that screamed danger. It was focused on Paul. Picking up the bass with a death grip on the neck, Paul just stared John down. There was a mutual understanding in the moment. The rage in both of them was bubbling over more and more by the second.

John yanked his guitar from the rack and they both plugged into the amps. No one seemed to remember the camera crew was still around. They just turned to Ringo, who was already at his drums, drumsticks in one hand, rubbing his eyes with the other. He was pushing so hard it had to hurt. And that was it. John squared up to the mic and began to scream the lyrics to a song they'd already wrapped up but they all threw themselves into it without question. Screaming, banging, and heavy riffs filled the studio. Nothing made sense and every fiber of Paul’s being hurt so much that he didn’t care. He wasn’t alone in the feeling, at least. They all felt some level of hurt.

Ringo was even mad- at the situation or at George or at Paul, it didn’t matter. He banged and slammed away like never before. It sounded so wrong coming from him but at the moment it was the only right thing to do. They sounded perfectly horrible. There was a distinct addition to the vocals and Paul turned to find Yoko sitting on George’s little blue stool, wailing along with John’s screams. Yes. Perfectly horrible.

When the song was up the energy was still poisonous and thick in the air. They weren’t done, not by far. Paul stepped up to the mic and John did not move away. With little notion of what he was doing, he went at the lyrics of another song. The words spat from his tongue with vitriol and fire.

They all needed to scream. Ringo was at the mic at some point, coming up with random words on the spot. Really just to have something to yell about. 

When they finished, panting out the last seething breaths, Paul felt empty. 

“Way to fucking go,” John yelled, eyes fixed on Paul. “Way to go.” his voice was drastically quieter, more tired and sad and hoarse, eyes drifting to his feet.

Paul’s bass suddenly felt a thousand pound heavier, pulling the strap down against his shoulder painfully. Maybe it was more the weight of his mistakes than the bass. Everything felt painstaking and dreadful for the rest of the day. The anger was gone and the screaming was done. There was nothing else to keep his mind from wandering into a wall of depression.

In the present, sans John and Ringo, he shyly grabbed an acoustic guitar and went to sit in a corner. He worked on one of his own songs, quietly strumming and murmuring. He didn’t like it yet, keeping it to himself. The awkward air in the studio only exemplified his need for privacy. So he stayed tucked away, only speaking when spoken to, like a good little schoolboy. George had even come over to ask about the song but Paul told him it wasn’t right just yet. There was no way he was about to embarrass himself on top of all this.

He went back and forth for most of the day. Playing several takes of various songs before turning back to his own song. There was a part on one of the songs that Paul found needed a quieter guitar part. The thought of addressing this issue to George was met with resistance. Was he really ready to address him? The guitar part could be addressed later, maybe. He could suggest another take tomorrow. But the song. It just wouldn’t be right. And maybe no one would be willing to do another take later. That struck a nerve in Paul that rang louder than the rest of his rationale. 

“Maybe,” Paul started, resolving to look directly at George for the first time since he walked in. “The guitar could be a bit quieter next take, y’know? Just sounds a bit heavy.” He tacked on quickly, glancing at Ringo, “The drums too.”

Ringo gave him a pained expression. Paul looked George dead on with a weak smile, though he could see John’s cautioning glare in his peripheral vision. George’s eyes were dark and apathetic. His jaw was set tight.

George Martin came over just when he was about to respond. Oblivious to the tension between them, he clapped a hand on John’s shoulder with a grin. “That was a great take, lads. Why don’t you take a lunch break with the film crew.”

“Wasn’t good enough for Paul,” George huffed, leaving first. “But what is?”

George Martin didn’t hear the remark and walked off to talk with Mal.

“You’re really going to cock it up already?”

“What!” Paul went quickly to his own defense. “It was a suggestion, is all. I’m not treating him with kid gloves just because we had a row.”

“A row? He left the bloody band.” 

“Not being a prick for one day isn’t kid gloves,” Ringo suddenly chimed in.

Paul gaped. “Caring about the songs is being a prick now, is it?”

John huffed an indigent laugh. “You’re painfully stupid.” He left with Ringo in tow before Paul could ask for any clarification. Not that he was sure he wanted any.

Stunned by the attacks, he stared blankly at George’s guitar. He had absolutely none of his friends at his side. He had managed to push them all away when all he wanted, so desperately, was to bring them together. They were slipping through his fingers like grains of sand and all he could seem to do was open his hands to quicken the fall. He’d lose them forever. It was all his fault. How long would it take? When would they figure out he wasn’t worth the trouble?

He just wanted them to be alright. He wanted to go back to how they were and just tour a bit. Play on stage like they all used to love. The band couldn’t rip apart. It just couldn’t because Paul would tear apart with it. And yet here they all were, at wit's end with one another. The connecting link to this free fall was Paul, of course. He had made Ritch leave and then George. It was all too obvious that John wanted out - surely Paul’s fault as well. 

He couldn’t imagine a world without Ringo, John, and George playing at his side. He didn’t want to. It was something new and terrifying that had no qualms with keeping him up at night, even when three glasses of scotch in. He couldn’t recall the last time he slept without drinking. Even still, nightmares filled his dreams and made sleeping seem worthless and just as tiresome as not sleeping at all. What a poor excuse of a man he was becoming.

With a tight chest and burning eyes, he got up. Thankfully, the film crew had truly gone to lunch. He was mostly alone with a few straggling technicians in the booth.

There was no way in hell he could go to lunch now. Not while it felt like the world was out to get him. Not while he felt on the verge of crying. Instead, he decided to go outside for a smoke. The cold winter wind cooled his hot skin. He fell against the wall with a thud and bit his lip. His eyes were pricked with tears but he wouldn’t let them fall. Not here. Not now. 

Dragging a hand down his face, he dove into his pocket and pulled out a spliff he’d rolled that morning for this very reason. His hand was caught on his chin as he eyed the thing. A beacon of hope.

He wasted no more time in lighting it. The earthy taste coated his tongue and warmed his throat. He relaxed on the exhale and repeated the process until his mind was a little numb. The carefree smoke floated high above before disappearing into the brisk wind. It would be so much easier to disappear with it.

“Stay gone too long and they’ll think you quit too.” 

Tension pulled at his neck and traveled down his body. With an involuntary jerk of his fingers, the spliff fell to the concrete. He didn’t look at the newcomer and didn’t need to. The calming drawl could only be from one person.

“So?”

Paul reluctantly turned his head to find George’s steady gaze on him. Words abandoned his brain. “So,” he asked stupidly.

George’s features suddenly dropped and Paul noticed there had been a hint of lightness seconds before. Great. Already cocking it up. 

“Oh, fuck you, then.”

“George! No, no!” He jumped forward and grabbed George’s wrist. “Please, love.”

There was hesitation in George’s step. He shook Paul’s hand off but did not leave. “Do you even care? Care that I left.”

His brow furrowed and his mind swirled back to life. “Of course. We were all-”

“I didn’t ask about the others. Did you care?”

It seemed like such an absurd question. There was nothing to suggest he didn’t. He was downright miserable. Was that not plain to see? Something inside him made him want to switch back on the defense. Deflect and reject. But he couldn’t let himself slip anymore. Everything was on the line now. His entire relationship was up to bat. He’d just be honest. And honesty wasn’t all that hard when your heart wrenched at the thought of this charade continuing for another second.

“Yes! I cared. I thought you’d never come back and I was terrified.” He was desperately searching George’s face for any recognition of belief. “You didn’t answer my calls for weeks and I thought you wanted nothing to do with me. If you don’t I can't even blame you at this point. Just tell me what I did wrong.”

There was no hint of emotion from George. He had a corked brow that could mean anything. The time passing with no answer couldn’t be good. Maybe he wouldn’t answer at all and just leave Paul standing here like an idiot.

“You want to know what you did wrong?” A look of contempt screwed up George’s features. “I don’t even know where I’d start.”

A weight crushed every bone in Paul’s body. He deserved this. He deserved the heartache and pain. The more it hurt the better George might feel. He just had to hold his asinine tongue. 

“You treat me like I couldn’t find writing talent if it bit me in the arse.” Paul tried to interrupt, despite himself, with an explanation. “Shut up and listen!” George moved closer, sizing Paul up. “When’s the last time you took any suggestion I’ve made seriously? You’ve been screaming from the damn rooftop about staying together and getting back to basics yet you sit in your little fucking corner like a punished child, ignoring us to work alone. What’s the point, then? Just to show how much of a pain you can be? You act like you don’t want me- any of us- near your songs and then boss us around on our own.”

George was pulling in unsteady breaths. He leaned forward slightly, really looking into Paul’s soul.

“You weren’t even the one to ask me back. Had Ritch do it for you, you coward.” George pushed him into the wall and Paul took it. “And you have the gall to ignore me! Even when I came to you like a stupid loyal puppy! That’s how you see me, isn’t it? Your little puppy that you get tired of when it makes too much noise. Well, fuck you and your damn songs. Fuck whatever you think you’re doing. You’re not keeping us together and you never could.”

Just punch me. The thought was screaming at the forefront and wouldn’t settle. Too angry with himself to stop, he yelled back, “Don’t you think I know? I see everyone slipping away and turning from me and all I can do is push you further! No matter what I try or how good I think I’m doing, you’ll just leave me out cold.” Caught up in it all, he shoved George back. “And you’re not a puppy! You’re my mate. You’re- I love you, alright.” 

His voice cracked and, god, he was crying. He was actually crying and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

“Really just didn’t think you’d come back if I asked. And if that makes me a coward then sure. That’s what I am. If being a coward is what I need to have you near, fine.”

A muscle in George’s jaw tightened. He was stiff and his eyes were damp. His voice was so soft when he said, “Why didn’t you look at me? When you walked in you wouldn’t even really look at me. And when I tried to talk you just buried your head in your notebook.” He laughed mirthlessly. “But as soon as you have an issue with a song you go in with those big eyes of yours and I don’t want to hate you. It’s not fair.”

“You’ve said it, y’know. I’m a right coward. Scared to lose you if I speak and losing you just as fast when I don’t. Shouldn’t have turned you away. I shouldn’t have ignored you. The song- the stupid song. Don’t know if I even cared about how loud your guitar was. I just wanted to look at you, I think.”

“Looking at me now, aren’t you?”

And he was. They had been staring relentlessly and it felt good, no matter how much yelling they’d done. He wiped harshly at his cheeks to clear them of tears. “I’m sorry for being a prick.”

“Aye. You should be.” The words might have hurt if the corners of his mouth didn’t twitch up. He rubbed Paul’s shoulders and arms. “Just talk to me, okay? I won’t disappear, I promise.”

His smile was sad but genuine. All Paul could ask for. He nodded but then realized he already missed the point. “Okay,” he voiced. “Talking. Always been my strong suit.”

George’s smile grew and he pulled Paul into a hug. He hugged back fiercely, balling his hands up in George’s jumper.

“I don’t deserve this.” The words weren’t meant to leave his mind but they seemed to come of their own accord. 

George moved him back and Paul almost pulled them right back together. “What do you mean?”

Bringing a hand up to caress George’s cheek, he tilted his head. “I don’t deserve to have you. Don’t deserve to have this band. Wouldn’t you be better off without me? I’m just here to cock it all up.”

“You… really mean that, don’t you?” With a shaky breath, George brought him back into the hug and gently held Paul’s head to his shoulder, petting down his hair. “No matter what happens to the band, it’s not because you don't deserve to have it. It’d be because we all need space, alright?” He held Paul a little closer. “And you don’t get to decide if you deserve me. That’s my decision.”

Paul nestled into the crook of his neck, scared to ask but not willing to keep it back. “And you think I do?”

“No. No. I just fancy hugging people I hate.”

Paul smiled into his neck. “Arse.”

[toovirgins]

January, 1972

Summary: In Paul's first interview since the breakup of the Beatles, things go slightly awry when a nosy reporter gets more out of him than she bargained for.

Part 1/3 (2, 3)

Paul flashed a blinding grin at the camera, hoping none of the looming anxiety beneath the surface would read. He quickly seated himself in the plushy chair, running his fingers up and down the smooth red velvet of the arms a few times to soothe his nerves. A tad self-consciously, he scratched his jaw, fingers twitching with unfamiliarity against the now smooth skin. This was his first interview in nearly two years.

He had been in a bad way since the breakup. It did no good to mull over it now, but it was hard to stop the same intrusive thoughts from popping into frame—the fuck-all, nothing-matters-anyway attitudes; the gnawing sensation of his own incompetency at the bitterness of feeling utterly lost; the desire to waste his fucking life away drunk out of his mind so he didn’t have to wake up in the morning and remember. What now?

Paul sighed inadvertently, ignoring the curious way the interviewer’s eyes danced over his form. What now? Now, this interview. One day at a time. A nice, simple discussion about the past year—about the success of RAM topping the charts in the U.K. and the slow but steady promise of Wild Life. Family and new beginnings. Peace.

Getting better all the time, right? His stomach did a violent flip at the thought.

Paul jumped a bit as the interviewer leaned forward, brushing a tentative hand across his knee. “Paul? Are you all right?”

Paul blinked. “What?”

She lowered her voice a bit, eyes flicking in the direction of the cameraman. Paul felt dizzy as the red light blinked back at him. “Should we—should we cut?”

Shit. Already off to a poor start.

Slowly, Paul came to his senses, breathing returning to normal (though he hadn’t realized it had been erratic). His chest felt tight as he gave a curt, polite nod, forcing a smile that, to him, felt borderline grotesque.

“No, love. Everything’s fine. Just a bit distracted, is all.” He shot her a wink, hoping to assuage her. Maybe a bit of flirting would do the trick.

He sighed in relief as the reporter flushed, a pleased grin sneaking onto her otherwise hard features. “Right. Well, if you’re ready, we can begin.”

“In earnest,” he beckoned, waving an inviting hand in her direction.

—

Half an hour later, Paul’s face felt utterly plastic from faking so much interest and expression. The poor girl was trying, for Christ’s sake, but Paul had to actually hold back groans at some of the painfully bland questions. Every goddamn thing reminded him of the Beatles, anyway, even if it had nothing to do with them. He felt surrounded by ghosts: the echo of George’s laugh, a flash of fangs; the dissipating vision of the way Ringo bit his lip real hard and furrowed his brow when asked any remotely difficult question; the trace of John’s fingertips on his arms or lightly thumping the back of his head. Things hadn’t been the same for a while, now, as far as those things went; but it was almost like they’d never changed. Everything was rushing back to him as if he’d just woken up from a long nightmare. Only to find that the nightmare was more pleasant than reality, of course.

Paul swallowed hard, fighting the urge to be sick. He wasn’t ready for this.

He wished Linda was there. Paul nearly kicked himself for agreeing to do this alone—he wasn’t sure why they had requested that, anyway, if they were just going to make him repeat the conception of “Yesterday” all over again. He needed her there, needed to distract himself by caressing her and leaning on her and whispering subtle inside jokes in her ear at inappropriate times. He needed to have her, just like—just like he needed—

“On your newest record with Wings, you have a particularly interesting track I’d like to touch on,” the reporter was saying, bearing down on him with a sudden insatiable gaze that should have been frightening, if Paul had literally cared one bit.

“Hmm?” He replied, noncommittedly.

“’Dear Friend’. It’s about John, no?”

Paul tensed.

The interviewer stared back at him, daring him to speak, the lust for truth plainly evident in her eyes, and Paul swiftly understood. Everything had been mere formalities or trust-building exercises up to this point. Everything to get him here: trapped, with nowhere to go, no one to turn to. His mind worked quickly, frantically, pushing the blossoming anger aside to make room for the desperate bid to save himself. He could only think of one solution, and one he was king at.

Paul began to laugh. Not loudly, not absurdly; just casual enough to where the audience would soon be able to read the feigned perplexity in his tone. “John?” He practically scoffed, cocking an eyebrow at the woman with a look that bordered on condescending. “No, love, it’s not about John.”

“Who’s it about, then?” Came the follow-up.

Paul answered too quickly. “Linda.”

“Ah,” the interviewer affirmed, leaning back in her chair slightly. “I see. So the bit about throwing the wine—”

“Celebration!” Paul interjected, his voice much too shaky for it to ring true. “Throw back the wine. Congratulations, and all that.” He mimicked a drinking glass. “Young and newlywed.”

“Mm.”

Paul’s heart was hammering in his chest, so violently he was sure the cameras could see it. He never should have put out the song. He had knownit was too transparent, but had convinced himself it was his own paranoia. The public was desperately searching for anything to drive the wedge between him and John deeper—even if the song really wasn’t about him, they would have found a way to make it so.

So, that’s what the story was. He felt a sudden angered hopelessness, offended by the audacity of the reporter. To coax him out of practical hiding, persuade him to do this huge press event for the “good of his album”, to pull him from Linda and thrust him into the spotlight he tried so desperately to escape, all so they could catch a hope of getting Paul to contradict and expose himself? Like she was some kind of Pharisee?

He could see her eyes working coldly, calculatedly, and he felt the sudden urge to run. His mouth felt sour, tongue acidic against his teeth that were clenched far too hard to be healthy. He had to get out of here.

“You say friend,” the interviewer started, almost cautiously.

“She’s my best friend,” Paul argued.

“What about the fear? What is Linda afraid of?”

“It’s a general fear,” Paul retorted, almost pouting, feeling more than fed up with the increasingly dangerous questions.

“Is what ‘true’, then?”

“All the things he said, of course,” he snapped.

It wasn’t until she responded that he realized his mistake. “He?”

Shit! Paul’s eyes shot wide as he stumbled for an answer. “I-what?”

The reporter narrowed her eyes. “You said ‘he’. All the things he said.”

Paul’s heart was in his throat. He struggled to breathe, mimicking the feeling of having your head barely above water as the ocean closes around your neck. “I most certainly did not.”

“But you did. You said, ‘all the things “he” said’. I presume you’re referring to Lennon’s more public digs, especially in response to RAM. He's far less subtle than you, you know. ‘Too Many People,’ though, that one’s about him to anyone who has ears to hear it and a brain to really listen. So he comes back with ‘How Do You Sleep’, and though you’ve been sitting on this one for quite some time, it feels right to put it out, a spitball to his face, an olive branch in the face of his fire. It doesn’t matter that it sounds like it’s to a lover. Because, in a way, it is—"

“No!” Paul all but cried out, wanting to press his palms so far into his ears that it would crush his skull. The beginnings of desperate tears well up inside of him. “No, that’s not—I’m not—”

“What happened in India?”

Paul froze.

The reporter simply stared back at him, almost expressionless. Paul’s brain had short-circuited at the question, leaving behind nothing but a dull buzz, his thoughts as comprehensive as television static. The buzzing of the studio lights was the only sound for a long time, save the soft pants escaping Paul’s lips as his chest constricted with the effort of not hyperventilating. When he finally spoke, his voice was dripping with a malice that shocked even himself.

“What the fuck do you know?”

Even the interviewer looked momentarily taken aback. She licked her lips almost hungrily. “Is there something to know?”

“No. It’s—nothing happened, all right?”

“That’s the trouble, isn’t it?”

“What? No!” Paul was astounded, flabbergasted, so far past the point of shock he no longer had control over his ramblings. “Or—no. I don’t know. Nothing happened, it couldn’t—”

“Did you want it to?”

“He wanted—”

“What did Lennon want, Paul?” There was an edge to the reporter’s voice, a twinge of excitement at what may be perhaps the biggest story since their breakup.

Paul said nothing. He couldn’t trust himself to speak. A cloud came over him, blurring all thoughts of past and future. All implications and consequences. He was blissfully, numbly empty.

“Paul McCartney, were you in a… a physical relationship with John Lennon?”

The question went unanswered. He simply stared at the woman opposite him, cool and stony. He could tell by the slight waver in her expression that his intent was evident. It was a dare—turn the fucking interview off, or sit here in silence for the remaining half-hour. Give the viewers quite a special.

Her choice.

Eventually, the woman cleared her throat and shuffled the stack of notecards in her lap that Paul hadn’t noticed until now. He let his gaze trail over her lazily as she made to signal the camera cut. As soon as the little red light went dead, she shot Paul an aggravated glare and shuffled off the set.

He only winked, feeling much more hollow inside than before.

[jestbee]

Oh noo hope you feel better soon and it heals fast!!

I'm thinking about sapnap. How devoted he is to them, how much he loves them. He moved to dream and drove from Texas to Florida with one day notice and when George said he was lonely in London, the next day he renewed his visa :(( they all have such a strong bond, they choose eachother over anything else..

Sapnap is ride or die. Dream once said the thing he loves most about Sapnap is that he "has never once doubted that Sapnap is [his] boy and will have his back through anything". And you can see it.

Like, however much Sapnap and George have a sibling-like rivalry, Sapnap would go to war for George if he asked. (And he might, knowing George).

He was "just the cameraman for now" and made sure George and Dream were both okay during their meeting and was happy to take a back seat and that in itself is fucking amazing.

And it's not just dteam. He and Karl have a tax that if you cross one you pay the price of having crossed the other by default. He defends his fans in valo lobbies when people try to talk shit. Hes allowed to rio the shit out of his friends but if anyone else tries it he'll kill them with a glance. Heck, even for all the ways he has a tendency to get caught up in trying to seem cool, he's never once rolled over on his friends or what they do and the game they play even when it would have been easier to do so.

Sapnap is ride or fucking die.

[boioneder]

Ｉｆ Ｉ Ｆｅｌｌ (2)

Ｐｌｏｔ: Falling in love wasn't Paul's style. He loved making girls and boys swoon with his looks and his personality, so what was the point in settling for one person. Well, when Paul saw (y/n) across the room, he could only describe the sensation as crazy.

Ｇｅｎｒｅ: romance • humor

Ｒａｔｉｎｇ: PG+

Ａ/ｎ: A short story, bare with me because I haven't done this shit in years. GIFS ARE NOT MINE. I'll put in the tags if anything is mine.

(h/c) - hair colour

(y/n) - your name.

(e/c) - eye colour

(Y/n) had been around the block when it came to celebrities. Dated one here, maybe slept with that one guy; (y/n) he had a big problem though.

He always got too attached.

He was so focused on acting straight, that as soon as the opportunity came about, he would get hooked.

He had already been through quite a few heartbreaks and he had no intention on having anymore.

(Y/n) tapped his script on the desk in front of him.

As an anchorman, he always covered the latest news. The Beatlemania coming across the sea to America was the topic; and had been for some time.

(Y/n) and his partner looked into the camera, ready with a smile.

"Good Morning New York, today our topic is still all the rage of the Beatle Craze." (Y/n) began, giving a smile to his partner to continue.

The screams of girls could be heard from the top of their hotel. The men looked over at their balcony, waving to the screaming fans below them.

Paul laughed and jumped on one of the beds, grabbing a pillow.

George and Ringo took their seats, chairs of course.

John took the second bed, laying across it and looking at Paul.

"Wouldn't a nap be lovely Paul?" John asked, his voice coming out in a comical way. Paul scoffed at the male, turning over.

Ringo walked over to their television, changing it to the morning news. "Oi, boys look." Ringo called them.

All eyes looked at their black and white television, The familiar face of (y/n) grabbing Paul's attention. The men watched, their smiles growing as (y/n) and his partner spoke about their latest hit single.

The news signed off, the men letting out a sigh they hadn't realized they were holding.

Paul in particular, laid out flat on his back on the bed. "Did you guys see who that was?" Paul asked openly, wondering if he was the only one who noticed.

"Ai, looked like that kid you talk to the other night." George replied. Paul sighed, thinking about (y/n) and their interaction.

"You think he'd hate to see me again?" Paul asked, once again allowing any of his members to reply. John scoffed before laying on his side to look at Paul. "I think he would, honestly." John replied with a cheeky grin.

Paul took the pillow in his grasp and chucked it at John, hitting him in the face.

Ringo also spoke up, "What did you even say to him? He seemed awfully content with himself as he left." Ringo asked, having George and John look over at Paul.

Paul could feel the embarrassment creeping in as he bluntly replied. "He knew I wanted to sleep with him and he told me no." Paul said, taking another pillow and pulling it over his face.

George and John laughed, finding the explanation hilarious.

Ringo slowly shook his head, "Looks like you need a new lesson in flirting." Ringo replied. Paul finally sat up from the bed, holding his pillow. "I'm sure... If they're an Anchorman, we'll be seeing him later at the press conference, ey?" Paul stated, earning John's attention.

"You're right dear friend. I'm sure you could have another chance. Although, if they turn you down again, then he might not be worth your time." He remarked, now sitting himself up as well.

Paul chuckled, "Thanks for the support. I appreciate it." Paul added, sarcasm in his voice.

"You're very welcome, now.. How about we get a smoke?" John exclaimed, standing up now. Ringo and George also stood up from their seats.

They all looked back at Paul who also stood up, fixing his tie.

With that, the men left, but Paul's thoughts never faltered. Seeing (Y/n) again will be entertaining. Especially since now.. He had to be enthusiastic about meeting them.

Paul laughed to himself, ignoring his members teasing.

(Y/n) fixed his coat as he walk before looking at his cameraman. "What do you think of the tie?" He asked, earning a shrug from the female. She could care less.

(Y/n) huffed, continuing to a busy room. The Beatles, superstars who are quickly taking over New York with its mania. It was no surprise to see just about every new media out there jam packed into the room.

In front, a long table, ready for the four men to come out. (Y/n) took a seat at the front, thankfully reserved by his company. He looked at his partner, "What do you think about them?" He asked. The female smiled, "They're cute, I won't lie." She replied.

(Y/n) scoffed, crossing his arms. "They can't be all that special. Celebrities are all the same." He stated. But, just as he did, his partner turned on the camera along with everyone in the room.

The four, Ringo, George, John, and Paul walked across to their seats, smiling and waving at everyone in the room.

(Y/n) didn't want to, but unfortunately, his eyes were caught by Paul, who smiled just a little brighter. (Y/n) flinched, quickly turning his gaze away to his partner.

He straightened himself, not wanting to look like an idiot. After all, he was just an anchorman. It's not like he was anyone special to them.

In no time, the group and the audience began to converse. Majority were questions around controversy and fake news. They made snarly remarks, making the insults slide right off their backs.

Due to his companies reservation, (Y/n) was given the opportunity to ask one question to them. As their turn came, he thought to himself.

His company's demographic is for teens through to adults, so he needed something to grab the attention of all age groups.

Nothing complex, something extremely simple so as not to fry their brains.

His thoughts were broken, as his turn was announced. He looked at the four men, mic in hand as he spoke.

"Gentlemen, the people of New York need to know, w-what sort of things do you look for in a girl? We all know girls across the world are smitten, b-but what does a girl need to stand a chance at winning your hearts?"

The four gentlemen looked at each other, the room silent except for the clicking of cameras. John began, looking directly at (Y/n).

"I think I'd definitely want a them to actually love me. It's a quality that isn't found too often. I don't know, I just expect it to happen without my knowledge." He explained, seeming quite genuinely in his response. George nodded in agreement just as Paul began to speak as well.

"Yes, it's not like a person wakes up one morning and says, oh I'm going out to find love." Paul added, moving his eyes to look at (Y/n), his attention on Paul as well.

"It's something you don't realize is happening until you're smitten." Paul said jokingly. The room also chuckled at his response, but Paul didn't look away from (Y/n), who focused on his little notebook.

It was exactly what he hoping he'd hear. The girls are going to be all over it in the paper. Just as he finished, he glanced at Paul. He did a double take, finally looking back at Paul with a curious face.

Paul chuckled to himself, shaking his head before looking away.

(Y/n) continued to look at him curiously before looking back at his little notebook, the males words written down. He read it over once more, furrowing his brows as he reread Paul's response.

'its something you don't realize is happening until you're smitten.'

[theculturedmarxist]

As demonstrations against police brutality and abuse of Black Americans spread across Boston on the night of May 31 and early morning of June 1, the city’s police department was out in force.

Many officers wore body cameras. During the unrest, the cameras recorded hours of footage that the department subsequently stored.

That footage was given to attorney Carl Williams, who is representing some protesters arrested that night, as part of a discovery file encompassing 44 videos and over 66 hours of footage. Williams assembled a team of volunteer lawyers and law students to pore over the videos to find exculpatory evidence for his clients. What they found, however, was something more.

The hours of video, given exclusively to The Appeal by Williams, show police officers bragging about attacking protesters, targeting nonviolent demonstrators for violence and possible arrest, discussing arrest quotas and the use of cars as weapons, and multiple instances of excessive force and liberal use of pepper spray.

“It’s this mob mentality,” Williams said of the police behavior. “And I use ‘mob’ as a sort of a double entendre—mob like the mafia and mob like a group of a pack of wild people roaming the streets looking to attack people.”

The Appeal shared sections of the footage with Suffolk County District Attorney Rachael Rollins, who said that in her view, police behavior in the videos is indicative of the very issues that demonstrators were marching to bring attention to.

“I have not watched the entire video, but the snippets that I have seen are incredibly troubling,” said Rollins, adding that she has sent the clips to her special prosecution team.

The Boston Police Department has opened an investigation into the revelations in the videos, Sergeant Detective John Boyle told The Appeal. Citing the investigation, Boyle declined further comment.

The May 31 Boston demonstration, part of a nationwide movement that was sparked by the police killing of George Floyd in Minneapolis on May 25, officially wrapped up around 9 p.m., Black Boston co-founder Toiell Washington told The Appeal. Washington said that her group was one of the main organizers of the event and made a conscious choice not to work with police because of the nature of the protest.

“We didn’t work with any city officials and we definitely didn’t work with the police,” said Washington. “We didn’t have that conversation with them.”

To Black Boston, working with the department on a protest against police brutality would have been hypocritical and counterproductive. The group did not encounter any resistance from police during the march and demonstration, Washington said, but that changed as the night wore on.

“As soon as it got dark, they started things,” Washington said of the police. “I have many friends that were attacked, and they did nothing to provoke anyone.”

Washington said that police turned the city into a “war zone,” barricading protesters and passersby alike and causing destruction and terror.

Activist Yaritza Dudley and other people The Appeal spoke to backed up that version of events. Dudley, who is Black Boston’s director of events, was not officially involved with the group at the time. She told The Appeal that she and her friends endured a harrowing escape from downtown Boston as police attacked them and everyone around them with tear gas, pepper spray, and physical violence. That behavior wasn’t surprising to the young activist—but it was a major moment nonetheless.

“It just goes to show that Boston is no different, is no better than any other city that you see with open attacks and police brutality,” said Dudley.

Lauren Pespisa, a Boston activist, told The Appeal she remembered seeing “more cops that night than any other, except shortly after when the National Guard came out.”

“The daytime march was extremely peaceful and the cops held back, then once the sun went down there was a lot of tear gas and police cars driving haphazardly into crowded streets,” said Pespisa. “They shut down the MBTA and had battalions of riot cops around every corner gassing us.”

“Start spraying the fuckers,” says one officer, wearing camera X81416368, at 1:21 a.m. UTC on June 1. (Times are set for UTC on the cameras referred to in this story—five hours ahead of Eastern time.)

Over and over in the videos, police officers are seen deploying plumes of pepper spray at demonstrators, often without warning or provocation. Crowds of protesters with their hands raised are regularly attacked and sprayed by officers on bikes and on foot. At times, demonstrators are rushed by surprise by officers spraying at will.

In one clip, when a man with a gray beard approaches a crowd of officers with his hands raised, an officer to his right sprays him with pepper spray from close range directly in the eyes. In another, a woman with blue hair is surrounded by officers and sprayed in the face at close range by one officer.

Rollins called the liberal use of pepper spray on display in the videos “disturbing” and said her team was looking into it. She added that she hoped the woman with blue hair had filed a complaint.

The officers appear enthusiastic about using the chemical weapon and unconcerned with whether to arrest demonstrators. In one clip, timed at 1:52 a.m., officers advancing on a crowd are pushing one young man standing with his hands raised.

“We gotta start spraying more,” the officer wearing camera X81417350 says.

“You out?” he asks another police officer offscreen, holding up a can of pepper spray. “I got a little left.”

“I want to hit this asshole,” he says, gesturing toward the young man being pushed back. “I’ve used two of these already—I’ve got a little left, I want to hit this kid.”

Williams cited those comments in particular as indicative of the attitude police in Boston take toward demonstrators and the community.

“This is not law enforcement,” he said. “That’s not what they’re doing right there in the streets, ganging up on people using weaponry.”

“And they’re enjoying it,” he added.

Officers assaulted demonstrators in various ways throughout the evening, often without any clear sense of purpose or reason. Using batons to compel crowds back, officers with cameras are seen pushing down people trying to get out of the way and comply with commands.

One officer, wearing camera X81329588, rushes a person on a moped who is trying to comply and clear the area. The officer charges him, shoving him off of the vehicle, for no discernible reason and with no provocation. The attack came at 2:08 a.m.

In another clip, outside Boston Common at 2:44 a.m., the same officer charges a young Black woman holding her hands up and shoves her violently to the ground with a baton. The officer says nothing when he does this and does not arrest her.

In the aftermath of the attack, the officer and his cohort push back other demonstrators expressing concern for the victim, who they say is still lying on the ground. The officers do not respond, instead marching forward with batons pushing demonstrators out of the way.

Marchers were exercising their First Amendment rights, Rollins said, and for the police to attack them with such ferocity is disturbing. Police behavior should be held to a higher standard, she added, and protesters expressing anger at officers is no excuse for violence.

“These are people exercising a constitutional right to be out,” said Rollins. “And there is no requirement that they be pleasant or silent when they are out.”

Those not wearing cameras are also seen assaulting demonstrators. One police officer, wearing a fluorescent jacket, looks back at camera X81417350 and then hits a young man in the stomach. The victim of the attack had been complying, walking backward with his hands up in front of his attacker.

The officers also appear to target certain demonstrators for violence. In one clip from 1:26 a.m. near the Common, a group of officers on bikes react strongly when a demonstrator kicks a tear gas canister back at them.

“Let’s get this fucker,” says the officer behind camera X8141668. “Let’s get him, lock him up.”

Although most of the abuse on camera happens without arrests, there are some instances of demonstrators being taken into custody. One video suggests that the reason for this was to meet arrest quotas.

At 4:52 a.m., the officer behind camera X8142975 gathers with other police officers, including a sergeant, at a rendezvous point. The conversation between the officer and the sergeant is revealing for what it implies about arrest quotas—a policy that has caused controversy in Massachusetts in the past, particularly around State Police ticket quotas.

“How many ya got?” asks the officer as the cameraman exits his vehicle.

“Just one, female,” he replies, lifting his hand.

The sergeant, after an unintelligible exchange, declares, “then we’re done” as he walks over to the vehicle. “That’s 10.”

The officers then realize the number is only nine, but the superior officer appears to think that number is satisfactory.

“I mean, theoretically, we could take one more,” he says, appearing to dismiss the idea.

Officers repeatedly appear to not realize they are being recorded.

In one instance, a commanding officer approaches the man behind camera X81413955 and hands him a necktie with a price tag still on it, presumably from a store looted during the unrest.

“It’s pretty nice,” replies the cameraman, adding that it’s a “$50 tie.”

The commanding officer quickly leaves the area, turning his back on the camera. Meanwhile, the officer with the camera appears to pocket the item. The Boston Police Department did not provide a case number, evidence log, or any information about the tie.

In another clip, a sergeant approaches the officer behind camera X81331058 and begins telling him about using a police vehicle to attack demonstrators.

“Dude, dude, dude, I fuckin’ drove down Tremont—there was an unmarked state police cruiser they were all gathered around,” says the sergeant, laughing.

“So then I had a fucker keep coming, fucking running,” he continues. “I’m fucking hitting people with the car, did you hear me, I was like, ‘get the fuck—'”

At this point the officer behind the camera pushes the sergeant’s head away and walks off in the other direction. He comes back a few seconds later, saying, “it’s on,” about the camera.

The sergeant quickly changes his story.

“Oh, no no no no no, what I’m saying is, though, that they were in front, like, I didn’t hit anybody, like, just driving, that’s all,” he says. “My windows were closed, the shit was coming in.”

The officer then apologizes.

“This thing just fucking went on automatically,” he says.

The comments about the car indicate a callousness on the part of the officer—regardless of whether he actually did it—considering the use of cars as weapons in recent years, Rollins said. She singled out a car attack at the Charlottesville, Virginia, counterprotests to the white supremacist Unite the Right rally in 2017 that killed left-wing activist Heather Heyer as an example of what vehicles can do when used in that way. Hearing a police officer laugh about it, she said, was not a good feeling.

“This individual appears to be taking pleasure in the fact that this happened or is gloating,” said Rollins. “I’m a member of law enforcement now as an elected district attorney, and I’m not proud of that when I see that. And I want to be proud of the behavior that we see with law enforcement moving forward.”

Not all officers are comfortable with the department’s approach to dealing with demonstrators. Criticism pops up at 3:38 a.m. from the officer wearing camera X81329486 as he and other officers take stock of the night.

“You know what was fucked up?” he says. “We’re pushing the one way, someone’s pushing them the other way.”

“There was no plan,” he says.

Another officer, wearing camera X8145069, says at 2:21 a.m. that the city is in an “absolute war.”

“This is insane,” he says, adding, “I didn’t think Boston would be that bad.”

To Washington of Black Boston, the police behavior shows the ineffectiveness of armchair commentary on how people of color “should” or “shouldn’t” protest police violence. Civil disobedience doesn’t come with an instruction manual—people can protest how they want—and to suggest that the reaction is inappropriate without applying empathy to the plight of the victims of the situation is the opposite of solidarity.

“They cannot tell us how to channel our emotions during situations like this,” said Washington.

Today, Washington and Black Boston are concentrating on continuing their efforts to ensure that the way things are done in Boston and around the country with respect to Black and brown people are changed for the better. The old way isn’t working, Washington said, and solidarity depends on unlearning the paradigms of the past.

A similar conversation is taking place nationally. Leaders in Washington and around the country are debating the ramifications of the acts of police violence that led to the new civil rights movement that erupted over the summer.

A number of local, state, and federal leaders in Massachusetts have been outspoken in their support for the movement. On Wednesday, the Boston City Council voted 8-5 to restrict the use of tear gas, pepper spray, and rubber bullets against demonstrators—a measure with roots in the protests in late May and early June.

Representative Ayanna Pressley, whose district encompasses three-quarters of the city of Boston, has been an indefatigable voice in Congress favor of police reforms. The Appeal showed her office portions of the above videos, particularly the ones focused on use of pepper spray and physical violence.

“The inexcusable actions of officers in these disturbing videos make painfully clear why our communities are standing up, speaking out and demanding decisive action to combat the public health crisis that is police brutality in our nation,” Pressley said in a statement. “We can and must advance bold and systemic policy change at all levels of government to bring an end to the toxic culture of police impunity that has fueled these abuses and begin to legislate true justice and healing for our communities.”

The ACLU of Massachusetts has been trying to obtain the videos from that night and other nights of protest since June. The Appeal shared a compilation of clips from the file with the organization before the publication of this article.

“We have seen a compilation of BPD body cam footage dated from June 1; if accurate, the footage raises concerns about excessive force,” Ruth Bourquin, ACLU of Massachusetts’s senior and managing attorney, said in a statement. “We are grateful that the body camera footage brought these incidents to light. We note that BPD has failed to produce these body cam recordings to the ACLU, in spite of a request from the summer that is the subject of pending public records litigation.”

Bourquin added that the behavior of the officers in the videos is antithetical to the principle of free assembly and the right of people to go out in the streets to demand justice. That right should not be infringed, she said.

For her part, Rollins promised change is coming. She issued an appeal to Bostonians that they trust her with information about the police.

“I want people to feel comfortable sending that information to me,” Rollins said. “I want people to feel comfortable enough filing a complaint with the Boston Police Department if that is the entity that engaged in, you know, problematic at best, criminal at worst behavior,. And if they don’t feel comfortable, I want them to file it with me or one of their Boston city councilors to get it to my attention. And we will review everything.”