#i met him as ringo i hope he knows hes great

[andromedawebb]

Hosh Jutcherson has been my favorite to see in the cloud server I love him

[hauntingofhouses]

(concept art of young taigen - source ; art credit: @abigaillarson)

i cannot get over this concept art of young taigen. god.

just look at this angry bratty boy, too many feelings that he doesnt know what to do with! an abused 9 year old kid in poverty always playing with sticks in the dirt, obsessed with greatness and dreaming to escape his decrepit village—and he does!

he does escape. he runs away. this angry little boy, all claws and teeth and biting words uttered with a lisp, going on the run into a world he's never seen before until he makes his way to kyoto. and knowing him he probably forced his way in to be accepted by the dojo, growling and kicking even as he's thrown out, back into the streets, too stubborn to take no for an answer and never knowing when to give up.

taigen calls mizu a dog, weak, an orphan, a scrawny street urchin. but i can't help but think that he feels so bold to use those words because he had them spat at him too.

because taigen had the idea of "this is how the world is" beat into him from birth. he learned quickly that if you couldn't beat the world you could join it. but that meant losing your way, your values, your principles. and isn't that what true honour is? not just titles and status and glory?

we don't get to see what taigen, as a child surrounded by peers encouraging and goading him on, would've actually done if that meteor hadn't fallen right in front of them at that very moment. would he have really tried to throw that stone on mizu, killing her? we don't know.

but we do see what taigen (his true self, with no one around) does, when presented with the same opportunity. when mizu passes out in front of him, unconscious and near death, vulnerable, the path to restoring his honour lays itself out for him on a silver platter. and he wants to take it, wants to kill mizu, to claim what is his and return to kyoto and get back everything he'd worked tooth and nail for. he feels like it's what he should do. but he doesn't.

and later, again he is presented with the chance to betray mizu, likely offered by heiji shindo to get his rank reinstated within the shindo dojo. and again, taigen doesn't take it. he refuses. "stupidly loyal," fowler calls him later. loyal, like a dog.

because now, pulled away from the sneering looks and jeering words of people around him, telling him that this is what the world is, taigen had met ringo and mizu, two outcasts who refuse to follow a predetermined path to greatness. and so inside something blooms in him. something like hope. a chance to live in a world that doesn't kick you down every chance it gets, to live in a world where genuine kindness and and love and friendship and even weakness is possible, allowed to simply exist without fear.

because he'd been running away from the very idea of it the whole time. when he ran from kohama, he never looked back, never wanted to remember what it was like to be a child, afraid and hungry and angry and hurting, without the words to make sense of it, desperately wishing for something. something more. he doesn't know what. but he hears stories of great swordsmen and decides, yes, this must be it. this is what i want: glory, greatness. the twisted seed gets planted and thrives in this barren land.

and when he returns to kohama with mizu and ringo, he at last is forced to stop running. he must face the child within him again, and he tells that child to put down the stones in his hand, tells him to stop barking at anything that moves or looks at him wrong.

the child drops the stone, and taigen buys dumplings instead, gives them to mizu. the child within him, wide-eyed at the prospect of friendship, moves him to pick up a hammer and toss it to mizu. he's smiling inside even as he does it; giggling like a kid hiding a silly prank. as soon as mizu drops the hammer after him, he leaps at her, tackling her to the ground and they wrestle and laugh unbridled like two children playing while the adults aren't around to barge in and yell at them.

and then his gaze catches on mizu's lips, he stares into mizu's eyes, a sparkling blue, inviting like the open sea in good weather.

it's a man's desire that takes hold then, the child in him sinking away again, and he curses himself for it, because it ruins the moment.

everything goes to shit from there, and then it's back to being a man, back to putting on his grown-up's armour to play hero.

it fails. the shogun dies. fowler's beatings reopen all the wounds left by heiji shindo's torture. "honour is meaningless," mizu tells him. "nothing comes from being a samurai but death."

the words follow him, and he follows the words.

as everything burns down, he runs, leaving the fire behind him, and sees akemi, as well as the verdure of spring behind her, calling him. he does not hesitate then to hold his hand out to her, inviting her to come with him. "i don't want to be great," he says. "i just want to be happy."

what is happiness to him? perhaps he doesn't know it yet, or perhaps he does. but really, i believe happiness is what the child in him always wanted but never received. happiness is a home.

[muzaktomyears]

The man who was there the day the Beatles broke up

Mal Evans was the Fab Four’s roadie, fixer and friend. Paul McCartney confided in him when the band split, while John Lennon relied on him to guard his life. A new book tells his story

The Beatles’ lingering tensions finally caught up to them during a meeting among John, Paul and George at 3 Savile Row on September 10 1969. As Mal and Neil [Aspinall, who ran the Beatles’ company Apple Corps] observed, John took particular issue with what he perceived as Paul’s megalomania, saying that, “If you look back on the Beatles albums, good or bad or whatever you think of ’em, you’ll find that most times if anybody has got extra time it’s you! For no other reason than you worked it like that.” For Mal, the conversation must have been pure agony. He idolised Paul, who bore the brunt of the meeting’s vitriol.

In his own defence, Paul protested that he had “tried to allow space on albums for John’s songs, only to find that John hadn’t written any”.

With the idea of recording a new album seemingly off the table, John suggested that they produce a Christmas single instead. After all, he reasoned, their annual holiday fan club record would be due before long. When this idea was met with silence and indifference, John soberly concluded, “I guess that’s the end of the Beatles.”

As horrible as the experience must have been for Mal, panic hadn’t set in just yet. During the past 15 months, Ringo and George had quit the band at various times, only to be coaxed back. But ten days later it all spilled out again at a meeting at Apple. Mal and Allen Klein (their manager after the death of Brian Epstein) were there, along with Yoko, Neil and the boys. For his part, George was on speakerphone from Cheshire, where he was visiting his ailing mother. The topic at hand was a new agreement with Capitol, which Klein was understandably eager to ink.

As Mal observed, Paul began to enumerate the group’s upcoming opportunities, including a series of intimate gigs and a possible television special. In each instance, John said, “No, no, no,” before telling Paul, “Well, I think you’re daft.” Eventually, he blurted out that he wanted a “divorce”. “What do you mean?” a stunned Paul asked. “The group’s over,” John replied. “I’m leaving.”

At this point, Paul recalled, “Everyone blanched except John, who coloured a little, and said, ‘It’s rather exciting. It’s like I remember telling Cynthia I wanted a divorce.’ ”

Afterwards, Mal and Paul returned to McCartney’s home, where they retreated to the garden, still trying to process what had transpired. Paul remained hopeful that John might change his mind, that the Beatles would continue unabated. But Mal knew better. As with George, Mal had reasoned that “all of them had left the group at one time or another, starting with Ringo’’. But when “John came into the office and said, ‘The marriage is over! I want a divorce,’ that was the final thing. That’s what really got to Paul, you know, because I took Paul home and I ended up in the garden crying my eyes out.”

That night with Lennon and Phil Spector in 1973, when happiness was not a warm gun

Mal took great pleasure in spending long hours in John’s company, enjoying the Beatle’s undivided attention, as opposed to sharing him with Paul, George and Ringo. “It was fascinating,” said Mal, who by this point was living in LA and writing his own songs, “because John was talking to me like I was a songwriter, and that was incredible. For the first time, John and I really communicated, whereas, when it was the four of them, John was always the hardest to talk to. I always thought that when John stopped insulting me, we had fallen out as friends.” But, he added, referring to John’s teasing, “The more he likes you, the more he takes the mickey out of you.”

Yet, as Mal soon discovered, working with John during this period would prove to be a chore — incomparable, in fact, to their touring years together, when the Beatles were often confined to the relative safety of a hotel suite. When he was in LA, John could often be found at the Sunset Strip’s Rainbow Bar and Grill, which had emerged as his de facto headquarters [during a period of heavy drinking which Lennon ironically referred to as the Lost Weekend but actually lasted 18 months.] With musicians like John, Harry (Nilsson), Ringo, Keith Moon, Alice Cooper and Micky Dolenz adopting the Rainbow as their regular watering hole, they had taken to calling themselves the Hollywood Vampires, a nickname that evoked the night hours they spent guzzling hooch in the bar’s loft space.

On one of his most harrowing evenings in Los Angeles, Mal had accompanied John and Phil Spector to the Rainbow. At one point, John walked Phil to his car, assuring Mal that he would return shortly. “About a half hour goes by, and I start worrying and go outside looking for John — no sign,” Mal later wrote. “I’d lost track of a Beatle for a day. What had happened, I found out the following evening, was that when he’d seen Phil off, a few hippie fans of his took him in tow, and John, who had just moved into a flat, couldn’t remember the address, nor his or my phone numbers. [John] eventually turn[ed] up, but not before I’d had a few irate words from Yoko, who phoned me from New York shouting, ‘I thought you were John’s bodyguard — why don’t you guard his body?’ ”

At a loss for words, Mal admitted that “I never really thought of myself as a bodyguard to anybody, but I suppose over the years that had been part of the gig. Anyway, they were all grown up, with very strong minds of their own as to what they wanted to do, and I certainly didn’t expect them to hold themselves accountable to me.”

That December, as work on Back to Mono proceeded, John and Phil shifted their project to the Record Plant West. The change of recording studios had everything to do with John’s and Phil’s antics having gotten them evicted from their previous studio, A&M. At one point, Nilsson and Moon, in a drunken stupor, had urinated onto the recording console, leaving the electronics in an ungodly mess.

Things began innocently enough after John and Phil completed their December 11 session at the Record Plant West, where they took a pass at Chuck Berry’s You Can’t Catch Me. As Mal looked on, the two men, drunk to the gills, were horsing around the Las Vegas Room. In a nod to the early days of Beatlemania when the Beatles would climb on Mal when they heard they were at the top of the charts, John decided to hop onto Mal’s back for a piggyback ride. Unfortunately, Phil opted to get in on the act, too. Mal’s physical dexterity in late 1973 was a far cry from that of the early 1960s, and he had difficulty sustaining the weight of two men atop his aching back. As always, Mal observed, “Phil goes a little too far,” and in the ensuing ruckus, “he karate-chopped me on the nose, my spectacles went flying, and I got tears in my eyes I can tell you. I turned around with a real temper and told Phil, ‘Don’t ever lay another finger on me, man.’ ”

And that’s when Phil, “maybe to re-establish himself in his own eyes”, Mal thought, pulled out a handgun. To the roadie’s surprise, the producer “fired it off under our noses, deafening us both, the bullet ricocheting around the room and landing between my feet”.

John was understandably incensed, exclaiming to Phil, “If you’re gonna kill me, kill me, but don’t take away my hearing — it’s me living!”

Until that moment, Mal and John had believed that Spector’s handgun was a toy. At one point earlier in the evening, Phil had cocked the trigger and aimed the weapon at John’s head. As a result of the incident in the Las Vegas Room, “John’s fear of guns generally was doubled.” For his part, Mal vowed to stay clear of Phil. He would attend the recording sessions in deference to John, but that was it.

In nearly the same instant that Mal decided to banish Phil from his world forever, he and John were hustled off to [co-founder of the Record Plant] Gary Kellgren’s house for a lavish going-away party in honour of Mal, who was preparing to make his return to Sunbury. For the occasion, Phil had arranged for Mal to receive “a beautiful large cake, which must have measured four feet by three feet, so nicely decorated with a large bottle of Napoleon brandy, [and] a lot of comic figures like Superman and Batman,” Mal wrote. The sumptuous dessert was inscribed, “To Mal, my pal, love, Philip.”

As it turned out, the madcap producer’s greatest gift to Mal that night came in the form of his absence. “Phil, to show the most understanding side of his nature, did not come to the party,” said Mal. “He knew if he had, he’d be outrageous and spoil it for me. But he set it up and didn’t come — a true mark of affection from a friend.”

The party came to a sudden close, though, when John, having grown blind drunk, planted a telephone into the sticky remains of the cake.

Meet the Beatles: four days in Mal’s life with the moptops

Paul (1962) In July 1962, Mal and his family attended the celebration of the “Wavertree Mystery”, an annual event held to commemorate the anonymous donation of a local playground back in 1895. Mal later recalled that, “Lil and I were proudly pushing Gary in his pram when she turned to me and said, ‘There’s a weird guy over there — keeps staring at us. Now he looks like a real Cavernite to me.’ On turning, I was to see Paul standing there, unshaven, with a denim jacket thrown over his shoulder and chewing on a toffee apple.” After engaging in the niceties of introducing his wife to the scruffy musician, Mal took Paul for a jaunt. “We spent the rest of the day together,” Mal wrote, “Paul and I daring each other to go on things like the parachute drop and other displays that took nerve, neither of us accepting the challenge.” At one point, they stopped in front of an automobile exhibition. Paul announced to Mal that “one of these days I’m going to own one of those cars’’, pointing to one very humble saloon-type car.

George (1962) After shows at the Cavern, Mal would introduce his wife Lily to the rest of the band. “On one occasion,” Mal recalled, “Lil and I bought the fish and chips for the group and ourselves, as they could only muster enough money between them to pay for the teas.” Although she had her misgivings about Mal’s involvement in their lives, she enjoyed getting to know the bandmates. “After gigs,” she later recalled, “George would come back to our house for bacon and eggs. He sometimes came back before Mal to keep me company. I’d be washing baby clothes and nappies or ironing. I liked him the best.” Lily fondly remembered the time she pushed the bangs from Harrison’s face, saying, “Let’s see what it looks like with your hair back. I like that better.” But George wasn’t having it. He combed his hair forward, telling her, “That’s the way I have to wear it; it’s the Beatle cut.”

Ringo (1965) Driving up the M1, Mal and Ringo stopped at a roadside café for lunch. “We were sitting at the counter,” Mal recalled, “and the chap next to me had obviously been trying to make up his mind whether it really was Ringo with me. Suddenly, he turned to me and said, ‘I don’t care if it is him or not.’ Ringo nearly choked with laughter as I teased the fellow, saying, ‘No, it’s not him. But it gets terribly embarrassing taking him anywhere because everybody mistakes him for Ringo!’”

John (1964) John held no illusions about the Beatles’ behaviour, later admitting that, “We were bastards. You can’t be anything else in such a pressurised situation, and we took it out on Neil and Mal. They took a lot of shit from us because we were in such a shitty position. It was hard work and somebody had to take it. Those things are left out, about what bastards we were. F***ing big bastards, that’s what the Beatles were. You have to be a bastard to make it, and that’s a fact. And the Beatles were the biggest bastards on earth. We were the Caesars. Who’s going to knock us when there’s a million pounds to be made, all the handouts, the bribery, the police, and the hype?”

During a flight to Massachusetts for the September 12 show at the Boston Garden, Mal’s long-standing feelings of intimidation around John came to a head. Sitting at the rear of the plane, he broke down in tears, telling a reporter that “John got kind of cross with me — just said I should go f*** off. No reason, ya know. But I love the man. John is a powerful force. Sometimes he’s rough, if you know what I mean, man. But there’s no greater person that I know.” In many ways, it was as if Mal’s lack of self-confidence, a key aspect of his persona for the balance of his life, had returned with a vengeance. Later John approached Mal and embraced him.

Extracted from Living the Beatles Legend by Kenneth Womack (Mudlark £25), published on November 14.

(source)

[kankuroplease]

are you going to make a Hc for all of Wolfgang's children???👀👁️👄👁️ I love it, ma'am, thank you very much! to make Hcs 😭 sniff* can you make a Hc for the little pirate Arashi, he's the baby of the family like his mother 😆 '' I like his little pirate mustache and Captain Hook look.🏴‍☠️

Who knows lol but Arashi is how he looks

His parents were seasoned vets by the time he popped out

So he was relatively easy to handle even though he was a bit hyper compared to the others

He spent most of his childhood trying to keep up with his older siblings and matured rather quickly because if it

He even thought he’d hit a growth spurt like Asahi did, but that never happened

He’s the shortest of the boys in his family and roughly about the same height as his mother

No one really missed with him because everyone knew his older siblings were very protective of him and they (and their ninken) didn’t necessarily believe in fair fights

So it was smooth sailing for him

He told his dad most of his secrets

And he told his mother all of his secrets (she knew about his first boyfriend before anyone else)

Asahi was always dark and mysterious, so Arashi didn’t even noticed when he moved out

He didn’t get much time with Kuri as she got married and moved out while he was still young

Frederick always let him get away with everything because he refused to act as a parental figure when he wasn’t

Leonie let him play with her paints as long as he didn’t touch the works she was working on or had completed

Mika taught him how to swim

Sena taught him how to successfully hide things in places others wouldn’t think of

He got bored of the mundane things that filled his day while Asahi, Frederick, and Sena would be out exploring the world

So he hoped onto the first ship he could to do the same

But as luck would have it, that ship got ship wrecked and he was stranded on an island for a fortnight before getting rescued and taken to a port that was a pirate’s paradise

That’s where he joined a crew and fell in love the dangers and highs of being a pirate

No rules (well some rules) and the open salty sea was great

He learned to appreciate how his life was and even met his soulmate

A beautiful man from an island he never heard of

Rudest man he had ever met but also one of the kindest pirates around

Who also just so happened to be the captains son

He would risk being captured freeing other pirates whenever the opportunity arised

There was never a dull moment

They sailed for years, but eventually, Arashi got a bit homesick

He was also fairly certain his then husband was over the whole sea shanty deal

But they couldn’t go to his husbands home town because his father would almost certainly drag him back on the ship if he found them

So settling down in Arashi’s hometown was a good idea

He was a bit nervous to introduce his family to his husband as he never discussed his sexuality

It was a relief when all his siblings and parents welcomed them both with open arms even after all these years

And even more of a relief that his husband loved this village

They set to building a home while camping out under the stars (they passed on stay with Wolfgang and Ringo)

And worked as farmers during the day

He really wouldn’t change anything (accept for having to yank his husband’s wanted pictures off of walls lol s when they do manage to travel)

[wordsformizu]

Your Father's Daughter

Mizu x Reader story

word count: 2.3k

Chapter 11

You don’t know when you fell asleep, but you did. You were determined to stay awake, but your body gave into the comforts of slumber and drifted off on the wall. Whether it was exhaustion or the scents around you strangling you into blackness it didn't matter because even though you slept, your body didn't feel rested. 

When you woke, you felt the cushion of another's body on your temple. It was soft and warm, comforting you as you stirred. A few blinks and your eyes adjusted to your surroundings. The dim light, the horrid scent, the women who sat behind the bars across from the men's cell. That jilted you awake as you sat up straight, remembering your circumstances. 

“Are you okay?” 

It was the apprentice's soft voice that reminded you where you were. You were on the men’s side with Ringo and his Master. Quickly you glanced to the corner to find him. He was in the same spot he decided to sit in before you drifted off, glaring at the wall ahead of him. There was no way for you to tell what time of day it was, so you couldn't guess how long he had been up. You could see the strain and exhaustion painted onto his face before the colors of disdain joined the canvas as he met your eyes. Disdain crossed yours as well. You wouldn't allow him to make you feel guilt for the situation at hand. Especially since you were in more danger than he was and had more importances to focus on. 

“I’m fine.” You finally responded back to Ringo, who had grown quiet waiting for your response. 

“You can rest more if you’d like. You’ll need it.” This is when you turned from the blue eyed man to meet eyes with his apprentice. He had been letting you rest on his arm this whole time. You could tell by the remaining drool on his sleeve, a bad habit you’ve had since childhood that used to get you into trouble with your siblings. You hadn't thought of them in a very long time, but seeing the little wet patch on his arm forced you into those times. When they would tease and pick on you staining the resting mats. When your mother would make a bigger commotion out of it. You always cleaned up after yourself, but it didn't stop the shame. Embarrassment blushed your ears a bright red, but Ringo didn't seem to mind. He hadn't noticed until you did, and with a quiet, startled “Oh!” he wiped at it quickly and offered his arm again as if it was a small mistake. The cell was dark, and yet Ringo’s presence brightened it alone. You blinked a couple more times, bewildered by his ease and kindness. His master scoffed behind you, bringing you back to the reality of cold men. 

“Master will get us out of here,” continued Ringo, who still offered his arm to you even though you didn't scoot any closer. You didn't want to drool over him again and, falling asleep wouldn't help you here anyway. You needed to be alert and ready.

“The same way he got us in here?” You just needed to say something to jut back at him . Your head still throbbed from earlier. A dark energy loomed over you from behind. He had heard you. Good.

“I believe in him. We’ve been in some tricky situations before, but we’ve made it out. Haven’t we, Master?” He spoke with a small smile, but the hope in his eyes was large. He truly believed in this man. In his great master. His master didn’t make any noise to acknowledge his comment, but you felt the gloominess from behind you fall away. 

The door at the end of the hallway creaked open, announcing the presence of the guards entering. Three men strolled down the hall. They were in uniform, and were supposed to be marching professionally but something told you that they weren't here on professional terms. They were up to no good. 

The tallest one looked over the women's cell, twisting a toothpick between his index and thumb. He spit out the plaque that was building in his mouth onto the floor and went back to chewing on the end. The way he stood, leaned back and laxed, told you he was in charge. The other two followed behind him and whatever he decided to do and right now, he was deciding who.

“What about her? I like the way she feels.” spoke the shortest one. He looked up to the other man for desperate approval with a slimy smile on his face. 

“Look at her. She’s falling apart practically. One more round and she’ll give out on us. Why not that one in the corner?” The middle man stuck in the bar, pointing to another woman in the back who leaned against the wall. She had a little more life in her eyes as fear reflected back to them. She had enough life to still feel fear. That’s what excited him compared to the one the other soldier pointed out, who you could tell had grown numb from the constant abuse. Her eyes were as dark as the bruises on her fragile skin. 

The tallest one made a sound that could only mean he was considering. Weighing his options on who he wanted to break in further. He rocked on his shoes, and combed his fingers through his hair before glancing behind him. You froze. You and him had met eyes, and for a second you thought he had seen past you, violating the privacy your clothing provided, and spotted your naked truth. His eyes then drifted to your side. 

“What  the fuck are you looking at?” Vileness dripped from his tone as he spoke, his words directed towards Ringo who said nothing in shock. 

“Too scared to talk, big guy?” He kept pushing.

“Look at his hands!” Both the men who followed him into the prison had turned their attention to Ringo as well, pointing at him through the bar and laughing.

“Where the fuck did they go?”

“Did he eat them?” 

“I wouldn't doubt it, look at the size of him.” The two looked to each other and laughed, spit flying as their faces turned a matching shade red together. 

“You think he can fight with those?” said the tall one, who had not broken eye contact the entire time. 

“Wanna find out?” One of them said, excited to see something had caught his boss’s attention for entertainment. 

“Bring the freak out here.” Was all that was said, and the ringing of keys and snickers followed right after. 

The shortest one came in, a sneer drawn across his face as he approached Ringo and you. The second one followed behind him and together they grabbed at the sleeves of his clothes. The same sleeves he had cleaned off for you to continue sleeping on. They grunted as they lifted the apprentice to his feet and dragged him towards the cell. They threw him onto the floor and before his body could smack the ground, a heavy foot connected with his gut. Ringo let out a grunt before his body hit the floor with a heavy thud. The two looked to each other again and cackled, one of them moving his body as if he were experiencing an earthquake. 

He quietly tried to steady himself, but having no hands made it difficult for him to stand as quickly as anyone else would. When he finally did get on his feet, his stance wasn't as straight but he still towered over the taller one. The guard did not like that. You could tell by the way the upper corner of his lip twitched. Ringo, who had graced you with his patience and kindness. Ringo, who made sure to feed you though you refused to eat at times. Ringo, who did not pose a threat to something as delicate as a flower, made this man feel threatened and in doing so he was going to be punished unfairly for it. 

The tallest one drove a hit directly into his stomach, making the apprentice crouch forward. 

“Come on. Fight me.” 

“Yeah, fight back!”

“Go on!” 

Ringo didnt lift his arms to fight, and in doing so it angered the guard even more. He struck him. Multiple times. And Ringo took every punch. Every shove. Every kick. The guard kept trying to raise a fight out of him, but  Ringo, whose heart was as pure as a childs didn't fight back. He didn't even cuss, only the sound of his bell rang in the air. You wish he had. You wish he would just pick up the men and toss him. He was surely strong enough. He could do it if he wanted to. You felt yourself leaning forward, your body wanting to run to the bar and stop the men yourself. That is when you glanced to your side and saw his master, the samurai. Hands clenched so tightly from anger you could see the red under his palms. His jaw locked with tension, and his brows furrowed with frustration. This wasn't easy for you to watch, but it must've been harder for him as he’s known his apprentice longer. Yet he didn't move. He restrained himself and you began to understand why. 

It was too risky. The power balance was unfair. The most they wanted to do was strike dominance and fear into their prisoners, but if you two were to get involved it could quickly be seen as a prison riot. An uprising. Men with ego’s as fragile as theirs don’t take lightly to even the thought of being overpowered. Imagine an actual threat. Everyone would be shot dead before the day ended. 

Ringo hit the ground again, causing you and his master to flinch in response. You both wanted to get up and at this point he almost did. You reached gently to stop him. At that moment, you had forgotten he was an Onryo. A man on a mission to destroy your father. You saw a man whose body screamed to right the wrong. To correct the injustice being done before him to someone innocent. You felt it as well. His body tensed, and he removed his touch from yours which you didn't mind. You weren't sure what had taken over your mind to reach out and touch him in that way. Either way it stopped you both from reaching for Ringo through those bars. 

The beating came to a stop as the guards grew tired of beating someone who wouldn't defend himself. What was the point of looking for a fight when they were ignoring the one within themselves. They let his body lay on the ground for a while before one of them started swinging through his keys, wiping his forehead of the sweat dripping down his face. The tallest one was now crouched as low as possible, but still managed to look down at Ringo. His head was tilted to the side, his elbows resting on his knees, and his face held a look. Disappointment, but with Ringo or himself you couldn't tell. He masked it with disgust before having the men drag Ringo back into the cell with a single flick of his finger. 

“That one.” He said as he rose back to his full height. He jutted his chin towards the woman's cell now. 

“That one should be nice for now.” His men locked the doors to the male cell and went across to the female cell, unlocking it and dragging out the young girl who clinged behind an older woman. You could hear the fear in her whimper. The unsteadiness in her footing as they dragged her told you she was barely strong enough to walk. The dried blood that stained down her leg told you this wasn't her first time. The features on her face told you she was barely of age. The look on the woman's face told you that was her mother. 

How he was able to spot her was beyond you. Maybe he had a sense for sniffing out the weak. Taking anyone he can and making them smaller than him in any way possible. Woman or man, it clearly didn't matter to him. He would pick you out, and pick you to bits. That’s what men like him liked to do. 

Once the door shut, you heard the woman's muffled tears erupt into an outburst. Her body shook with pain as she clung onto herself. A few women gathered around her, holding her in comfort while the rest watched from a distance. They comforted her with words like “She is strong.” and “She will come back.” but that was the thing. She shouldn't have to be this strong. You knew that, and so did her mother. Women have always been able to provide comfort to one another, you’ve noticed. Community and strength. Even in times where comfort was the last thing on your mind. You could hear your father in the back of your mind. Telling you how useless that was, and how it gets you nowhere. You couldn't help but think to yourself how nice comfort would be right now. 

Being slow to move, you inched your way to Ringo’s limp body. His back moved so you knew he was alive and breathing. A sense of relief  washed over you that you didn't expect, but you let it settle. It was the first positive feeling you’ve experienced in this hellhole. 

Ringo adjusted his head, now facing you and his master. His face was bruised and scratched up from the brutal beating, blood trickling from nose and busted lips. It hurt to look at. Slowly he removed his arms from under his body, and right around his wrist you spotted the ring to the keys. How he had managed, you were unsure. You were too focused on him and his inability to fight to watch his movements. You turned to his master, and you two met eyes before looking back at Ringo; who smiled at the both of you like the warmth of a fire in the midst of winter.

 Soft, and comforting. 

[novemberhush]

Talk about one positive thing you’ve done or experienced in the last 24 hours. It can be anything at all that made you smile. Whatever it is, talk about it and spread a little positivity to people if you can. ❤️

Belated happy birthday to the ever lovely @zerokrox-blog , who tagged me to do this. I’m so sorry I didn’t know yesterday was your birthday, but I hope you had a great day, you deserve it.😘😘😘

My favourite moment of the past 24 hours was getting to meet a gorgeous golden retriever called Ringo. He was the best boy ever (apart from our family dog, of course) and cuddled right up to me the moment we met, as if we were old friends and not complete strangers, and let me pet him and pet him until he and his human had to go. He put a huge smile on my face and made me feel happy.

Bonus happy thing from the last 24 hours - I got chicken chow mein from my local Chinese takeaway for dinner last night and it was delicious.

Also, on Monday (not within the last 24 hours, but it made me happy so I’m going to include it) I was wandering round a secondhand bookshop after work and, as well as a few books, I found the cutest little wooden ornament of a cat standing on some books and was delighted to discover it was for sale. I snapped it up immediately. It cost £4, which I think was a bargain price for something that hasn’t stopped making me smile every time I think about it since. Just looking at it on my bookshelf makes me happy. Oh, and I got a new notebook with pretty purple peonies on the front the other day as well! So pretty!

I tag @smowkie @all-or-nothing-baby @firstdegreefangirl @foreverthemomfriend @fireladybuckley @firemedicdiaz @brokenribsdiaz @talespinner230 @argylepiratewd @katries and anyone else who feels like sharing. No pressure on anyone who doesn’t!❤️

[mclennonlgbt]

My favourite Lennon and McCartney's quotes where they express love to each other

I don't know if they were soulmates, lovers, something else or all of the above; there's no doubt they loved each other. I know there's a lot of quotes but these touch my heart the most <3

PAUL

- ‌Me and John, we’d known each other for a long time. Along with George and Ringo, we were best mates. And we looked into each other’s eyes, the eye contact thing we used to do, which is fairly mind-boggling. You dissolve into each other. But that’s what we did, round about that time, that’s what we did a lot. And it was amazing. You’re looking into each other’s eyes and you would want to look away, but you wouldn’t, and you could see yourself in the other person.

- ‌I was thinking the other day, ‘I wish I had sat and just hugged John all the time when we were together. (…) I’d just sit around and hug him forever. That’s the depth of my feeling for him.

- ‌But the great thing about me and John was it was me and John, end of story.

- ‌When I painted him recently, I found myself saying "How do his lips go? I can't remember". Then I would think, "Of course you know. You wrote all those songs facing each other".

- ‌John and I were perfect, really, for each other.

- ‌We grew up literally in the same bed because when we were on holiday, hitchhiking or whatever, we would share a bed.

- ‌I dream about him.

- ‌I mean, we had a wonderful... I had a wonderful time with one of the most world's talented people. - John and I were two of the luckiest people in the twentieth century to have found each other. The partnership, the mix, was incredible. We both had submerged qualities that we each saw and knew. I had to be the bastard as well as the nice melodic one and John had to have a warm and loving side for me to stand him all those years. John and I would never have stood each other for that length of time had we been just one-dimensional. - We wrote our first songs together, we grew up together and we lived our lives together. And when we’d do it together, something special would happen. There’d be that little magic spark. I still remember his beery old breath when I first met him here [Woolton church fete] that day. But I soon came to love that beery old breath. And I loved John.

JOHN

- ‌I've compared to a marriage a million times and I hope it's... understable. For people that aren't married. Or any relationship. It was a LONG relationship. It started many, many years before the American public, or the English public for that matter, knew us. Paul and I were together since he was 15, I was 16.

- ‌How can you be suprised by your brother since you were 15?

- ‌We were recording the other night, and I just wasn't there. Neither was Paul. We were like two robots going through the motions. We do need each other alot. When we used to get together after a month off, we used to be embarrassed about touching each other. We'd do an elaborate handshake just to hide the embarrassement... or we did mad dances. Then we got to hugging each other.

- ‌I think it's [writing songs] partly something natural - and partly something that Paul and I spark off in each other. [...] Some people say it's a speculative stock because no one knows how long Paul and I will stay together. But we intend to stick together and if you can write songs, you can write them all your life.

- ‌Throughout my career, I’ve selected to work with – for more than a one-night stand, say, with David Bowie or Elton John – only two people: Paul McCartney and Yoko Ono. I brought Paul into the original group, the Quarrymen, he brought George in, and George brought Ringo in. And the second person who interested me as an artist and somebody I could work with was Yoko Ono. That ain’t bad picking.

- ‌Nobody ever said anything about Paul's having a spell on me or my having one on Paul! They never thought that was abnormal in those days, two guys together, or four guys together! Why didn't they ever say, 'How come those guys don't split up? I mean, what's going on backstage? What is this Paul and John business? How can they be together so long?

- ‌But the only - the person I actually picked up as my partner, who I'd recognised had talent, and I could get on with, was Paul. Now, 12 or however many years later, I met Yoko, I had the same feeling. It was a different feel, but I had the same feeling. So I think as a talent scout, I've done pretty damn well! - I’d like to thank Elton [John] and the boys for having me on tonight. We tried to think of a number to finish off with so I can get out of here and be sick, and we thought we’d do a number of an old, estranged fiancé of mine, called Paul. This is one I never sang. It’s an old Beatle number and we just about know it.

[harrisonarchive]

(Please swipe for both photos) The Yellow Submarine Beatles cardboard cutouts alongside David Bowie, and The Beatles, in 1967; photo 2 by Mark and Colleen Hayward/Getty Images.

George Harrison: “[I’ve] been in parties where it’s full of people who have got the shiniest shoes or the biggest heels or the funniest glasses or the biggest hat. Now, I can’t get on with scene. I just met David Bowie […] who I know Ringo also thinks is great.” John Lennon: “So do I.” GH: “Okay, John does, too. Now, you know, I don’t have any concept of whether he’s great or not great. But I met him in Memphis [at the Mid-South Coliseum during the Dark Horse Tour, on Nov. 27, 1974], in — and he was in the shower room with the band just before we went on to the second show. […] David Bowie, I said — these were my very words, and I hope he wasn’t offended by it because all I really meant was what I said — which was, I pulled his hat up from over his eyes and said, ‘Hi, man, how are you, nice to meet you,’ pulled his hat up and said, you know, ‘Do you mind if I have a look at you, to see what you are because I’ve only ever seen those dopey pictures of you.’ I mean, every picture I’ve ever seen of David Bowie, or Elton John, they just look stupid to me.” John Lennon: “I thought they looked great.” GH: “Well I think he looks dopey. I want to see, you know, who the person is.” - KHJ Radio, December 1974

“The first night [at the Roxy in ‘75] I looked over and there were Bowie and George Harrison sitting with their arms folded, talking through the first number. Three songs in they were hooting and hollering along. By the time ‘Pretty Flamingo’ came ‘round, there wasn’t a dry seat in the house. As far as I was concerned, Bruce [Springsteen] left that gig a superstar. We knew it, he knew it and, from their faces, Bowie and Harrison knew it too.” - Bob Harris, BBC Radio

“I would say to George, ‘[Bowie is] wonderful and brilliant and funny,’ but then George would become very much a Beatle, ‘Oh, Bowie,’ he would say contemptuously to rhyme with ‘Bowwow.’” - Eric Idle, Always Look on the Bright Side of Life: A Sortabiography (2018)

“For me [‘Try Some Buy Some’] was a Ronnie Spector song. It never really occurred to me that I was actually covering a George Harrison song… it’s rather fitting and quite lovely that it is an unwitting tribute to George.” - David Bowie, bowiesongs dot wordpress dot com

“‘For [Harrison],’ Bowie muses, ‘there is a belief in some kind of system. But I really find that hard. Not on a day to day basis, because there are habits of life that have convinced me there is something solid to believe in. But when I become philosophical, in those “long lonely hours,�� it’s the source of all my frustrations, hammering away at the same questions I’ve had since I was 19. Nothing has really changed for me. This daunting spiritual search.’” - interview conducted by Paul Du Noyer, 2003 (x)

[greatunironic]

So sorry if this has already been answered, but I am so curious about the rest of the band! Who are they! How did they all come together! What’s their read on Eddie’s whole history! Who is the Ringo! Who is Eddie’s Clarence Clemons!! (I mean Steve is arguably Eddie’s Clarence depending on a few different ways of reading this but you know what I mean I hope)

so i talked a little in this post about the format of the band but i’ve been thinking more about the make-up of the shotguns for Secret Reasons this past weekend so please have some additional color on eddie’s three long-term collaborators:

wanjeri is eddie’s bassist and his musical clarence clemons. the daughter of kenyan immigrants, she was classically trained on the upright bass + graduated from vassar in ‘87; she and eddie met when he moved to seattle  — she’d moved out right after college and had immediately begun getting into the emerging grunge scene — they met at an open mic at a local bar + hit it off (he credits her as his intro to grunge).

(she has her own solo career as well, lesser known but well respected.)

when he gave her his demos of what would become the shotgun’s first EP and then later the first album, she offered to record the bass parts for him + also hook him up with studio time, because she was dating a guy at a small place who would let them in to record at night.

this was alejandro, a transplant from los angeles and a ucla drop-out, wanjeri’s then boyfriend now husband; he was really into the demos and also knows drums, so he ended up being the drummer on the first album (though engineering is his man passion). also working there was fabian, another, more senior engineer (and seattle native) who eddie says midwifed him, wanjeri, and alejandro through the recording process.

wanjeri was the person who suggested eddie name the band something other than his own name (because she could tell the idea made him uncomfortable; there’s a whole “I KNEW IT” moment from her when he finally tells the three of them that he’s kind of, sort of in WITSEC), and she’s also the only musician that has recorded on every shotguns’ album.  alejandro has been known to sub in on drums during tours occasionally but prefers to be behind the scenes with fabian.

eddie considers everyone who works on one of his albums part of the band but everyone else thinks of the shotguns as those four people.

wanjeri had, for many years, a blood feud with an unaware steve, because she was totally picking up what eddie was lyrically laying down — she met him a handful of times, thought he was nice, but also was like “i can and will fight him”. alejandro, conversely, came out of meeting steve a handful of times with the observation that homie was gone for eddie and they were both idiots; wanjeri was way too ride or die for eddie to hear it — it is the only thing they talk about in couple’s therapy. (they believe deeply in always working on one’s relationships with each other, and themselves, even if they probably actually don’t need couple’s therapy.)

fabian thinks those crazy kids will figure it out eventually if it’s meant to be, but also in the meantime? great for business.

(as for the upside down: eddie thinks about telling wanjeri + the guys pretty regularly, especially after he and steve get together, and is working up the courage to tell them with steve’s full-throated support.)

[hyunjilicious]

the set up [chris evans]

A/n: this is the reworked version of an older fic that I wrote!!! I loved the vibe so I didn’t want to allow it to get lost in the void!!

Summary: Some mutual friends decide you and Chris would make a cute couple and decide to set you two up!! (SMUT) 6.4k

Warmings: smut, unprotected sex and they also just met so I strongly advise you to not follow their example, oral (both), brief mentions of spanking, hair pulling and dirty talk. It’s chill y’all.

This is a standalone fic, and not part of any series!

“If this girl-”

“She’s great!” Scott cut Chris off harshly, already above tired of his brother’s endless flow of nasty comments.

“I feel uncomfortable doing this!” Chris protested again from the passenger’s seat, shifting around, eyes fixed on the road ahead, “At least tell me what she’s like!”

“Gorgeous” Scott belted, nodding his head to accentuate his point, “Smart as fuck so you better control yourself” he said so sternly, not even a drop of sarcasm escaping his lips, “She’s also into old music so you can talk to her about that? Kind of-”

“So then- God this is still weird” Chris sighed, rubbing his hands across his face, not used to the idea of being set up with a girl. Maybe he wouldn’t be as terrified and nervous if all his friends hadn’t been constantly going off about how great you were, because considering their history, Chris was sure there was something horrible Scott forgot to mention.

-

“God what the- oh no!” you managed to exclaim as your feet ran laps around your bedroom, “How the fuck do you forget to mention he’s Chris Evans?”

“Calm down” Anne sighed burying her face into the scattered pillows around your bed, “Seriously, that doesn’t change anything, we’re all meeting in a pub, I promise you, it will be fine” she added, giving you a reassuring smile.

“Like I’m not awkward enough around idiots...” you complained again, walking to your friend to zip up your short dark blue dress. “I got this” you said as you felt the material tighten around your body, giving you a well-deserved boost in confidence.

 -

Seated at the round table, you were so absorbed by the conversation that was being held that you failed to realize the two tall boys that approached your booth. Chris’s presence made something inside of you shift; and it wasn’t only the tingly sensation in your stomach at the sight of him, you also felt your walls build up, blocking all the confidence you ever had.

“Hi, (Y/n), right?” he greeted you, extending his arm.

With a shy smile on your lips, you stood up to shake his hand. As if your already existent butterflies didn’t exhaust you enough, his liquid touch managed to send shivers in waves, propagating across your whole body, reaching places you didn’t know could buzz like that. Chris sat down next to you, and after every time you told him something, you mentally scolded yourself for not participating more; for letting the shy side of you take control tonight.

“OK guys, next round, what would you like?” Dan, a friend of yours, raised his voice in order to get your attention as a waiter made his way to your table again.

“Vodka rocks please” you said when it came your turn, and your cheeks couldn’t help but burst into flames when Chris’s head snapped in your direction. That’s what you always had, your always go-to and everyone knew it, but to him it was new, and it certainly didn’t fit the appearance you put on.

The first part of the night flew by smoothly, at least in your opinion. If before Chris arrived you were leaning over the table trying to make a point to one of your friends, now you barely managed to gather enough courage to express your point of view in a completely trivial discussion. Maybe it was the alcohol you had ingested but you were pretty sure Chris’s eyes lingered on your bare shoulders or your lips as you talked, more than once and more than just for a second. All these thoughts, that maybe he found you attractive, maybe he cared what you had to say, everything that roamed through your head made you even more self-conscious, afraid your next action or words would let him down.

“Everybody up, I love this song” Anne commanded jumping to her feet. When you shook your head and explained that you’d rather sit through the first few songs she was quick to object. “Come on!”

“I swear, I’ll be there in 5 minutes” you promised your friend, but you were sure that what made her let you have your way was the fact that her favorite song was approaching its end and she was wasting her time at the table.

After everyone stood up and moved to the dance floor, you realized Chris hadn’t; he was on his phone, making the situation even more awkward than it had to be. You took another long sip of your drink, looking around the carefully decorated rustic pub you were in, before finally turning to him, and taping his forearm.

“Don’t you wanna dance?” you asked

“Yeah I do-” he muttered looking back and forth between you and the screen of his phone, “Just a second”

You tucked your hands under your legs, shamelessly studying his side profile. You could tell his eyebrows were slightly furrowed and the moment one of his hands traveled up to scratch the bridge of his nose, you unconsciously tilted your head to get a better view.

“Aren’t you going?” he chuckled after realizing you’ve been staring, pulling you out of your thoughts; everything about his attitude making your insides turn in embarrassment.

“I was wait- No, I’ll go-” you mumbled, preparing to stand up before his hand flew to your knee to stop you.

“No, actually don’t go, just a second” Chris said, still concentrated on his phone, apparently trying to get rid of the distraction as soon as possible. Your eyes worked their way up from his long fingers that were pressed flush against your skin, to his silver watch, further up his forearm, studying the thick veins that were protruding through his skin, to the halfway rolled up sleeve of the black shirt that wrapped itself so perfectly around his frame. You nodded when he told you to wait for him, but he had already turned his head and now you wondered if you seemed off, but before you managed to over analyze everything, he let go of your leg and tucked his phone in his back pocket.

“I’m so sorry about that” he said leaving his seat and turning, “After you”

You happily followed his actions, stepping beside him, as he placed his hand on your back, bringing you closer as you made your way to your group. After joining the small circle your friends created, you distanced yourself from Chris a little in order to have more room to dance, even if all you were actually doing was swaying and waving your hands around your body. Chris turned out to be as inexperienced as you were, his moves basically consisting of shifting his weight from one leg to the other to the beat of the unfamiliar song that was playing. The atmosphere changed soon enough, as “I got my mind set on you” started echoing through the speakers, bringing a well awaited smile on your lips. As the first lyric repeated itself a few times, you filled yourself with all the good energy of the song, your feet elegantly dancing, as if they had a mind of their own.

“Hey” you heard Chris call softly moments before he grabbed your hand to turn you around. You welcomed him with a giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck, careful to keep a decent amount of space between your bodies.

“Whole lotta spendin’ money” you mouthed the words, as his own hands sneaked behind you to pull you closer.

“You like George Harrison?” Chris asked smugly, remembering what Brian said about your love for old music.

“Isn’t he everyone’s favorite beatle?” you answered, extracting yourself from his hold and doing a childish pirouette before coming back against his chest.

“George Harrison is no one’s favorite Beatle” Chris retorted confused.

“That’s Ringo” you corrected him, “But I have no idea what everyone has against him”

With a shrug of his shoulders signaling his lack of an answer, he sighed heavily, his hot breath reaching your lips, before he spoke again, “Then who’s your favorite?”

“Who do you think?” you played, tilting your head to the side.

“McCartney?” Chris asked hopeful, biting his lower lip as he waited for your answer.

“Nah, Lennon” you chuckled, “Actually no- I don’t even know, I’m not even that big of a Beatles fan”. Your honest answer was as unexpected as it could be and judging by the smirk that made its way across Chris’s lips, you knew he appreciated the way you played it. “Do you like them?”

“They’re alright I guess-” Chris trailed off feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket. You smiled kindly taking a step back in order to give him privacy, just in case he needed it. However, you didn’t get to distance yourself too much before he wrapped one of his arms around you from behind, and settled his chin on your shoulder. You were taken aback by his gesture, as from this position you could easily see everything displayed on his screen, but he didn’t seem to care.

“I’m really sorry about this but I wouldn’t answer if I didn't absolutely have to,” Chris explained as his thumb worked its way around the screen. His hot breath hit the bare skin of your neck and shoulder, and you just turned your head, pressing your forehead against his temple; the fire between your legs not allowing you to stay still anymore.

You felt his cheeks gather up a smile under your touch, and you remained like that for a few more seconds as he finished typing. Once he was done, Chris locked his phone and secured his arm around you, turning his head slowly to meet your gaze. You welcomed him with a smile of your own, but in contrast with the sweetness that was plastered on his features, yours held a more fervid kind of feeling. He was the one to close the distance, his strong hold around your frame tightening as his mouth pressed softly against yours. You felt delight bubble inside you under the careful weight of his touch, and you soon felt his tongue trace slowly along your bottom lip, begging. Doing your best not to break the kiss, you turned around in his hold and planted yourself against his chest, this time not waiting for him anymore, diving in directly, going after what was yours. Soon, one of his hands traveled up your spine to grab the back of your head, his actions growing more and more rapturous with every single grunt that escaped his throat.

Judging by the fact that three hours later your dance moves were just as elegant as they were before, you decided to grab one last drink before making your way home. With your arms folded and elbows rested on the bar, you were waiting for an employer to notice you when you felt Chris’s hands on your waist as he placed a quick peck on your cheek before plopping down on the stool to your left. He spread his knees wide apart and pulled you between his legs.

“Vodka, rocks” he said before gesturing with his hand to the waiter to bring two drinks, “How long would you have waited?” he asked, turning his attention back to you. Sarcasm was dripping off his lips, as his lazy eyes didn’t miss any detail of your features.

“It wasn’t my turn yet” you protested

“You know it doesn’t work like that, don’t you?”

“I think it does”

A tight-lipped grin appeared on his features helping his cheekbones stick out ever more under the warm, dim lights of the bar. His boyish charm may have been amplified by the way his chest hair peaked through the open buttons of his shirt, and you were all for it. You pressed your lips to his and he didn’t wait a second to reciprocate your actions, the kiss feeling as natural as if you had known each other for ages.

“Copying me?” you giggled after the bartender brought your drinks, interrupting the two of you.

“Inspired? I’m inspired!” Chris chuckled before taking a sip.

“Drunk, that’s what you are,” you answered, mocking his state, a state you weren’t far from either.

“Nah” he countered, “I’m just feeling good!”. Belting the words he threw his head back, confirming your assumption, and also giving you perfect access to the skin of his neck, which you didn’t hesitate to attack with rough kisses and soft bites. His attitude changed in an instant, becoming a weak mess under you, “Oh god, (Y/n)” you heard him moan into your ear as you worked your magic along his jugular.

Realization hit you suddenly, and remembering you were still in a public place you detached yourself from Chris and grabbed his hand to pull him back to your group.

“Are you seriously doing me like that?” Chris complained following you, fingers intertwined.

“Sorry, I got carried away”

Your night out didn’t last much longer after that, as the tension between you and Chris reached the point where none of you was willing to deny it anymore. After saying your goodbyes, you headed out through the front door and made your way to the main street in search of a cab. Despite having gathered up the courage to go to his place, the whole car ride was perfectly silent as your head quietly rested on his shoulder.

Once inside the apartment, his lips found yours faster than he had found his keys less than 5 seconds before. With your back pressed against the door while Chris sucked mercilessly on the skin of your neck, you managed to get a quick glimpse of the city lights poking through his huge window, setting an even more intoxicating atmosphere than before. You lost yourself under his touch, feeling his hot body wrapped around yours as his hands roamed shamelessly over the thin material of your dress.

Sighing, you pushed him off of you, “Bedroom” you whispered and after giving you a quick nod, Chris dived back in for a kiss, grabbing your waist and guiding you through his dark home and into his room. You sat down on the bed, as he knelt in front of you on the floor, taking your feet into his lap to undo your sandals.

“God” he muttered annoyed, as the strap refused to come undone. Giggling, you leaned forward to take them off yourself, appreciating the gesture and loving his cuteness. After getting rid of your high heels, you grabbed Chris’s collar as you leaned on your back, pulling him on top of you. This time his hands didn’t hesitate as they found their way to your ass in no time.

“You have no idea what you did to me in that dress” Chris grunted against your lips as his fingers dug roughly into your skin. He traveled down your body, peppering kisses down your chest, before resuming his position on his knees on the floor.

“Spread your legs for me” he commanded and you obliged, crawling to the end of the bed, settling your legs on each side of his frame. His hands caressed your thighs passionately, inching closer to your heat causing your breath to fasten. Chris lifted up your dress, and pushed you to lay on your back.

“Oh god” you whimpered, feeling exposed and completely vulnerable. As you leaned your head to the side and closed your eyes, the feeling of Chris’s wet lips centimeters away from your core caused you to buck your hips in surprise as he started paving his way along your thigh with soft kisses.

“You want this?”

“Please” you begged suggestively

“Look at me” he demanded in a new harsh deep tone that sent shivers down your spine. You raised your head and looked down at Chris, who upon making eye contact, tapped your hips twice. You took the hint and propped your feet on the wooden edge of the bed as he circled his fingers around the sides of your underwear, pulling it down your legs in one swift motion.

After settling back into his position, Chris probed your folds with his thumb, smiling, more to himself, pride most likely pumping through his veins at the sight of his effect on you. He finally leaned down, his mouth volunteering to take his fingers spot, as he teased his way to your clit.

“Chris-!” you hissed at the feeling of his wet tongue working carefully on your bundle of nerves.

“Mmm..mm” he hummed lowly against your sensitive spot, the vibrations of his lips adding to your pleasure, “So fucking sweet”. His voice was hurried, as he lifted his head only for a second in order to look at you. His hands came around your thighs, as he released some of his own tension by vehemently slapping and gripping your skin.

With every lap Chris worked on your clit, a painful need inside of you to spill out profanity after profanity only grew bigger, but you managed to control yourself.

“Are you gonna cum for me?” he asked smugly, and before managing to give a decent answer, you felt one of his fingers enter you slowly.

“I- Uh, god” you cried out, arching your back as your left hand flew down so you could curl your fingers around and pull on the elegant collar of his shirt. Feeling every muscle in your body tense as your hips quivered uncontrollably, you secured Chris in his place by bringing your other hand too into his hair. Realizing how on the edge you were, he added another finger, swirling them against your wall, as his lips maintained the same avid pace around your clit. Impossible to tell how much longer it took, but most likely in a matter of seconds your orgasm came thundering down on you, curling your toes as the muscles of your legs trembled furiously. Chris kept going until you let your body fall flush against his bed, when he came up to your level.

Your eyes were closed, still enjoying the last waves of bliss that traveled along your legs as he teasingly caressed your cheeks with his lips and the tip of his nose.

Coming back to your senses, you gripped his neck, wrapping your legs around his middle, pressing him down against you. His mouth slowly met yours, igniting sparkles in your chest as he tugged on your lower lip before allowing your tongue to meet his’.

After pulling away, Chris straightened up at the edge of the bed and started working on undressing himself. The metal clicking of his belt buckle prompted you to suck in a long breath, smiling to yourself at how this man could make you feel so much, as you were already craving more.

You steadied yourself on your knees and crawled over to Chris, turning your back at him and getting your hair out of the way. He didn’t waste a second before getting back to you and pulling down your zipper of your dress, which allowed his hands to roam freely under the thin material. His fingers softly caressed your sides before sneaking to the front and cupping your breasts as his lips found your neck again. He lowered himself forward, pushing you down on the bed on your stomach and climbed on top of you.

Feeling his lips burn icy tracks along your shoulders, you pushed yourself up, flipping the two of you over. You slipped out of your dress fast and straddled his hips, not caring the slightest bit about being in any way seductive; you already had him. Under you, panting in anticipation, long fingers digging mercilessly into the smooth skin of your thighs.

Your lips were again on his’, working slowly, doing your best to tease him and push his buttons. Your hands traced his sides, making their way up his body,

“Yes, fuck” Chris whined. He had managed to take off his dark shirt before you distracted him, so he was now laying on the bed, half naked with his jeans undone, waiting for you.

You slowly lifted yourself off of him and tugged at his pants, pulling them down with a little bit of help from him.

“Tell me Chris” you teased looking up at him, your face inches away from his erect cock, “You want this?”. Following your question, you licked your lips as they fell into a one sided grin.

Squeezing his eyes shut as his head went from side to side, Chris chuckled bitterly at the taste of his own medicine, “Show me what you can do”

You placed one of your hands at the top of his thigh and lowered yourself even more, maintaining the eye contact as you carefully lifted him up. With your fingers wrapped around his cock, your lips barely brushed his base before you made your way lower.

“Fuck- fuck, (Y/n)” Chris hissed, bucking his hips violently at the way you kept pushing him. He brought his hand to the top of your head, his thumb softly caressing your hair as you worked on his balls.

At an agonizingly slow pace, your hand made its way up his length and when you reached his tip, your fingers continued teasing.

“Fu- take me in your mouth, baby” he tried to demand but under your burning stare, his words came out more as a plea, a struggling moan.

You gave him a false approving nod before you licked your way up his dick, wrapped your puckered lips around his end and sucked harshly a few, short times. When his head flew black as he white knuckled the sheets, you took it as your cue to stop.

“Hey Chris” you whispered as you let his cock fall against his stomach and you climbed on top of him.

A weak chuckle escaped his lips as he tried to smile when he realized the way you were going to play this. You leaned down to his level and slipped two fingers into his mouth before gripping his chin tightly and engulfing his lips in a fervid kiss. After caressing their way up and down your thighs, his hands settled on your ass, gripping tightly as he pushed himself up to meet your core.

You lowered yourself to add to his pleasure, your tongues not parting as you started pressing down on his cock.

“Please?” you teased, your hot breath hitting his damp lips.

“You’re not going there” he stated, his dominant side starting to show as his expression darkened.

“No?” you asked guiding one of your hands between your bodies, against his hard abdomen, wrapping your fingers around his dick. You nodded your head ‘no’ as you pumped him slowly, his squinted eyes prompting a smirk to appear on your lips. You had him; no matter what he said, you could go anywhere you wanted, “No, I’m not”

You guided his tip to your folds, slipping around him without any kind of warning. Straightening your back and supporting your weight by gluing your hands to his stomach, your hips started working in circular motions along his cock. You let your head fall forward before you pushed all your hair to one side, in order to be able to look him in the eyes. His body was responding to your actions, as he kept pushing himself up in sync with your movements.

It didn’t take long before you felt your second orgasm approach, and lost in the moment, you didn’t realize Chris took notice of the choked back whimpers that escaped your throat.

“Hey gorgeous” he grunted, his big hands digging holes into your waist, “As much as I love this-” he tried to speak but ended up concentrating all his energy into picking you up and flipping the both of you over, “-this is what I want right now”. He finished his sentence with a harsh whisper in your year from behind, as you struggled to maintain your balance on your elbows under his weight.

You smiled to yourself feeling his wet, hot chest against your naked back, before he rapidly guided himself inside of you.

“Mmh- Chris-” you moaned feeling his hands roam around your body as he maintained his avid pace.

“Taking me so well, hm?” he hummed in your ear. After caressing your cheek clumsily, Chris trailed his hand on the side of your head, his fingers losing themselves in your hair as he tugged back, forming a makeshift ponytail. The forcefulness of his touch caused you to tilt your head, eyes gluing to the ceiling as he grunted in your ear.

“Hell ugh-” you screamed as your body rocked back and forth under his’.

“Who would’ve thought?” he growled, exploring the skin of your neck with his lips as he kept your head back, “The way you act- so sweet and innocent, but then you down vodkas and take my cock like a good little slut”. Chris’s words were carelessly spilling out of his mouth, the pleasure of each thrust giving him more and more trouble forming coherent sentences, “Fuck, (Y/n)-”.

He let go of your hair in order to steady himself, as his movements became sloppier and angrier by the second, “Sh- Chris!-” you yelled gripping the sheets into your fists to keep yourself up, even though one of his arms was wrapped around your abdomen. “I’m so close, fuck, Chris!” you exclaimed again, letting your head fall against your shoulder.

He moved his hand to grip your ass tightly, before detaching it and then sending it to connect forcefully with your butt cheek again, causing a loud slap to accompany both your moans.

It’s all a blur what happened after that; his fingers kept digging into your skin hard as he was enjoying his high, the loud profanities he screamed sending you over the horizon. You soon went limp in his hold, but he didn’t pull out until he placed a loving kiss between your shoulder blades. Your whole body was trembling, from your lower lip to the tip of your toes, but the way he was still inside you as his lips carefully treated your skin, still managed to electrify your mind.

After that your night didn’t last much longer. A fragile amount of comfortable small talk emerged as you both settled under the covers but your mind was somewhere else. You had a lot of fun with him and your heart ached when you thought that this was a only one night stand after all. With your gaze getting lost in the darkness of his room, you found yourself fighting the urge to snuggle into him. As much as you wanted it, as bad of an idea you thought it was. Chris was laying on his stomach with his head in your direction, as you rested on your back. Honestly, you hoped he’d make the first move and pull you closer but he didn’t so you pushed your thoughts away. Or at least you tried. After saying your 'good night’s, much to your surprise, Chris’s hand found yours under the covers as he started to lazily play with your fingers. You smiled to yourself a little even though you knew he couldn’t see it. Your palm was against the sheets as he softly rubbed your thumb with his own. This didn’t help, all it managed to do was make you want to cuddle into his side even more, to rest your head in the crook of his neck and to fall asleep listening to his heart beat. Though none of those things happened, you managed to fall asleep on your own, despite the fact that the few inches of space between your bodies was killing you.

Surprisingly, at one point during the night you woke up. This time you were laying on your side, and it took you a couple of seconds to realise what it was that disrupted your sleep. You turned your head slowly to peak over your shoulder, and you physically felt your soul break. Chris was cuddled into your back, his whole body pressed against yours as his face was tucked into the back of your neck. You didn’t mind it, but the simple fact that his arms were gathered around himself and not around you, made it all clear. He was shivering in his sleep as the night breeze made its way in through the window that somehow was left open, and as you apparently had hogged all the covers, his pair of boxers failed to keep him warm.

“Shit” you muttered to yourself, turning around and doing your best to wrap the blanket around him. Your warm hand connected to his freezing shoulder in a pathetic attempt to warm him up, and instinctively, moments later, Chris wrapped his arms around you, pulling you even closer. You didn’t fight him this time, you just helped him cuddle into your chest before you fell back asleep.

-

Ironically enough, in the morning, you woke up to Chris pulling the blanket higher up your body. You didn’t open your eyes immediately as it took you a moment to come back to reality. Right now, you were facing him but not one inch of your body was touching his. When you finally looked at Chris, he was resting against the headboard, typing away on his phone. You wondered how long he must’ve been awake for but judging by his squinted eyes, you figured that not for too long.

“What time is it?” you finally mumbled

“Shit, I’m sorry I woke you up,” he said. He turned to look at you apologetically, but a smile still made its way to his lips as soon as his eyes landed on your figure, “It’s 10:12”

“Why are you awake?” you asked, not moving a muscle.

“My phone kept ringing, I have no idea how that didn’t wake you up”

You just shrugged your shoulders and crawled a bit closer to him before closing your eyes again.

“You can go back to sleep” he whispered, lowering himself to be at the same level as you.

“No, it’s ok” you protested, bringing your arms over your head to stretch, “I just need a minute”

He settled under the covers mirroring your position. His tired eyes matched his tired smile, and his cheek squished against the pillow made him all the more adorable, “I could make you breakfast, do you want some?”

Your stomach was begging for food, but this wasn’t an offer you expected. The dudes you’ve had hook ups with like this one, usually woke up horny and then that was it.

“Oh, yees, thank you”

“I could make you pancakes, like they do in movies” he offered chuckling in his groggy morning voice.

“Pancakes…” you repeated content, mouth starting to water at the thought.

“You can sleep some more while I make them,” he suggested.

“No” you argued, rolling into your back, “I’m coming with you, the girl makes breakfast in movies”

Chris raised himself up, prompting his weight on his elbow as he hovered over you with a bitter smirk on his lips, “The girl usually leaves before the boy wakes up”

His words stung a bit, “Are you trying to kick me out?”

“God, no!” he exclaimed, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer. Finally something. “That’s just what usually happens”. He was weirdly right, that was what you did most of the time too, but apparently not today.

“I guess” you agreed, looking into his big brown eyes. Before allowing the situation to slip into a direction you weren’t too fond of, you stood up on the bed, “Can you give me a shirt, please?”

“Of course” he said in an instant, jumping up from the bed and running to his closet. “This one ok?” he asked, showing you a navy blue one with long sleeves.

“Yeah” you smiled, extending your arm to grab it.

“Or this one?” he suggested again, this time a black t-shirt in his hands.

“Chris, give me the black one” you laughed before he had the opportunity to offer you another one to choose from.

You hurried to pull it over your head as he put on some gray sweatpants, and then you both left for the kitchen.

“Is this the bathroom?” you asked, pointing to a door right next to the one just came from.

“Yeah, but no” he laughed grabbing your shoulders and turning you in a different direction, “Go to that one” he gestured towards another door on the opposite side of the hallway, “This one is messy”

You wanted to protest for a second, as you were curious and maybe you wanted to snoop a little, but eventually nodded and went where he told you.

-

“Do you have Nutella or some kind of chocolate?” you asked, eyeing the pancakes.

“Um, no..” he mumbled, “But I can go grab some”

“What? No!”

“It’s just around the corner, I’ll be back in like 5 minutes”

“I was just asking” you giggled, grabbing his wrist, pulling him towards the table.

“It would take me-”

“Chris, no” you laughed, this time your tone was more serious.

He eventually caved, and you sat down to eat. The conversation picked up instantly and not for one second did it feel forced or uncomfortable. The awkwardness of getting too close to him disappeared immediately, as when you were halfway done, he pulled you into his lap, to demonstrate how a proper pancake should be eaten. Maple syrup and strawberry jam got everywhere but it wasn’t like any of you cared. Unlike last night, his lips were now sweet, kinda sticky even but it was perfect.

-

“So, like, last night you came with Anne, right? How do you know her?” he asked as he struggled to pour some more syrup  on his pancakes with his left hand, as his right arm was locked around your hips.

“She’s my best friend” you answered smiling, “We actually met at the gym a few years ago”, you paused to shake your head, “God, I hate gyms”

“Why?” he asked curious

“I’m an embarrassment, I’d much rather work out at home”

“Oh god” he laughed dropping his pancake and throwing his head back, “I can make you feel better about that if you want to”

“Sure.. go ahead” you hesitated, afraid of what might come out of his mouth

“So like I was at the gym a few days ago, and there was this lady lifting some weights that, by the way, looked way too heavy for her but who am I to judge. Anyway so as she’s squatting, you know, when she tries to straighten her legs and go back up, this loud fart comes out, and I swear to god it echoed through the whole room-”

“Oh god, no!” you exclaimed, covering your eyes with your palms, “I feel so sorry for her”

“That’s not even the best part” he laughed tapping your tight to get your attention.

“We’re eating Chris, please tell me she didn’t-”

“She didn’t don’t worry” he chuckled, “So like after it comes out, she starts rummaging like crazy through her stuff, pulls out her phone and goes - I’m sorry I didn’t answer faster, it was on vibrate-”

“I’m so embarrassed for her” you whined

“Yeah, like a part of me wanted to reassure her that it’s ok but I’m sure that would’ve made everything worse” he said laughing.

“Definitely”

“And like she left for the locker room but when she came back she was still pretending to be on the phone and headed straight to the door and didn’t look back”

“I can’t” you managed to say between your giggles

“Now I’m so afraid I’ll fart in the middle of the gym” he confessed

With your pancake still in your hand, you felt your eyes start to water, trying to picture him all flustered and embarrassed and you couldn’t help but laugh even louder.

“It’s ok, you won’t” you tried to reassure him, but he was just as amused as you were

“I hope” he sighed

After you were done eating, and then done arguing about Chris not allowing you to help him clean up the mess, it was time for you to leave.

“Do you want me to drive you?” he asked, most likely sure you were going to agree, so probably that’s why his face fell when you declined.

“No, it’s ok, but have you seen my jacket?”

“You didn’t have one”

“Yes, I did, a long maroon one” you explained thinking about where you could’ve left it.

“Trust me, I know what you were wearing last night” he said smirking

“Then I must have left it at the bar, I hope someone saw it and took it”

“Wait, let me give you something to wear” he said, sprinting to his bedroom. You waited patiently for him in the hallway, realizing that this meant you had to see each other again. But you had mutual friends, someone could give it back to him for you, right? This was usually the time you blew the guy off, but this time, something inside of you simply didn’t let you.

“What about this one?” he asks, handing you an army green hoodie.

“It’s perfect, thank you”

“I don’t have your number, and I kinda want it back,” he joked, pointing to the jacket.

“Give me your phone” you laughed, and after he gave it to you, you added the number quickly and handed it back to him.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you, I feel bad for letting you walk home”

“No, it’s ok, it’s not that far, I’m gonna cut through the park and listen to music, it’s ok” you reassured him, stepping away from the door so he could unlock it.

Once you passed the threshold, you turned around wanting to kiss him one last time, but the moment his hands caught your waist, the teasing side of you awakened, so you just placed a long peck to his cheek.

“Bye” he laughed at your antics, before closing the door after you.

As you were walking home, you wrapped your arms around yourself, causing the smell of his hoodie to reach your nose. You were happy he didn’t give you a clean one, this one smelled like him, and maybe he chose this one on purpose. Your mind drifted back to the events of the last 15 hours and unconsciously, they put a smile on your lips. You had so much fun with Chris, and grew so fond of his sweetness, that you almost felt bad for giving him the number of your 50 year old laundromat lady.

[cultofbeatles]

beatles links for when you're feeling sad 

when the interviewer spit on george 

“well, we just sort of wanked :o oops sorry!”

“can we talk about your quotes on lsd?” GASP

the whole ken dodd 1963 interview where they were all smiley and laughing 

george pushing john into oncoming traffic 

random singing in an interview followed by fighting 

oh how the tables have turned 

george smiling while ringo is working out how to play octopus’s garden

“morning paul!” “morning rich!”

i talk about george reacting to this boy a lot but it warms my heart 

something about the announcer telling the audience the beatles are so excited followed by a shot of ringo stoned makes me laugh 

paul waiting for his turn with ringo’s attention so he can show him a random painting 

john the baptist 

i don't even want to know why george was laying there 

“SHUT UPPP.”

“shut up while he’s talking..” 

ringo’s dance moves 

paul mccartney making mashed potatoes 

the good ‘ol shakespeare skit 

“if we did know we’d form another group and be managers.”

“thanks for the purple heart”

everything about this video 

“where could we go” “argentina?”

the way he screams gets me every time 

the beatles first radio interview 

“hey mister can we have our ball back!”

john throwing a pillow at paul 

eric lennon 

baby beatles

“what have you grown up to?” “29.”

“she looks more like him than i do.”

george speaks his own language i swear to god 

iconic george and ringo interview 

pattie and george interview 

learning about new cameras 

“why are you called the beatles?”

morons 

george dancing “aye i like it, do it again for me.”

george dancing again 

john dancing 

this is the saddest thing ive ever heard john say 

their dumb texas interview that includes the “john’s wife” joke 

george hitting himself in the face 

“you're the first person from liverpool i've met” “great.”

mockers 

george being cute and paul being moody 

john and paul doing impressions 

“we aint written no poetry”

these bloopers 

“they're entitled not to like us and were entitled not to have anything to do with us.”

“i don't mind whether i'm remembered or not” and he's now considered one of the greatest artists ever 

i'm sharing the yoko and john screaming in the studio bc it does make me laugh tbh 

cynthia..you deserved the whole world and i hope you're happy wherever you are. 

love by john lennon 

hey jude by the beatles 

i’m happy just to dance with you by the beatles 

do you want to know a secret by the beatles 

hello, goodbye by the beatles 

all together now by the beatles (it’s catchy. leave me alone)

the guitar solo in i saw her standing there 

john’s stand by me cover 

here comes the sun by the beatles 

in my life by the beatles 

keith moon’s cover of in my life bc i love it so so so much 

“and in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make.” <3

[muzaktomyears]

Mimi’s views on the NEMS staff, the Beatles, and their relatives:

Mimi liked Brian very much. His impeccable manners and charm won her over the first time they met. He came to the house often, she said, and assured her more than once that she should never worry about John, that he would always look after him and not let anything bad happen. That helped to ease her mind somewhat as John prepared for a career in music and not an artist as she had hoped

As Brian began to fit into the inner circle, Mimi began to wonder why such a kind and generous man wasn’t married. Or why he didn’t have a girlfriend on his arm when he attended the parties. She finally asked Cynthia if there wasn’t a woman hiding somewhere; that surely Brian wouldn’t be going through life as a bachelor. It was Cyn that told her Brian was homosexual. She claims to have been completely surprised and had no idea. But that’s all it had been, just a surprise. He still remained one of only a few people who attached themselves to the Beatles that she genuinely liked.

Also on that list was Derek Taylor. She enjoyed him immensely and especially loved his quick Liverpudlian sense of humor. She marveled at his large family and invited him to bring them all down to Poole for their summer holidays. They stayed at her house while she went up to Liverpool.

She seemed less impressed with Mal Evans, but in later years relied a great deal on Neil Aspinall, once he took over Apple. To her Mal was little more than a gopher, but she had met Neil when he was a young lad driving the boys around from gig to gig. Later she would telephone him when she needed to know where in the world John was or the telephone number of another member of the inner circle.

---

[for her views on George and Paul see here]

There was no real opinion on Ringo. Mimi said she really didn’t know him that well because he had joined the group so late. But she adored his mother and said she always made a point of looking her up whenever she was back in Liverpool.

Unfortunately, with George, she was equally critical of his family. At that time there were rumors going around that George’s father was “dating” some of the fans. There’s no need to mention how disapproving she was of that. Mrs. Harrison, she’d felt sorry for her when she died because she felt the poor woman couldn’t help enjoying all the fame she experienced by being George’s mother but she criticized her all the same. As far as Louise, the sister, went she dismissed her completely with a wave of her hand. Mimi had no time for people who made money off the Beatles unless they were Beatles. Apparently John had told her what was going on in America with her radio shows, and fan clubs, and special appearances, and even an album. He had nothing to do with her, so neither would Mimi.

As far as Jim McCartney, she said all the parents called him Lord McCartney or Gentleman Jim because he seemed to have a royal air about him the bigger The Beatles got, but “he’s all right” she laughed. When she told me this, I could picture a small yet exclusive group of ‘parents’ gossiping about each other in a playful way. Or, in some cases, maybe not that playful.

Pattie Harrison was one of her favorites, along with Jane. Mimi said Pattie was always very nice and very pretty. So pretty, in fact, that Cynthia was jealous of her and had always tried to keep up with her fashion-wise. Mimi didn’t care for Maureen at all because she was always quite rude to Ringo’s mother who, as I said, was also one of Mimi’s favorites.

The Guitar’s All Right as a Hobby, John, Kathy Burns (2014)

[beatles-slash-fiction]

George Harrison isn’t quite how Pattie had imagined he would be.

She had always imagined that if she ever got to meet the Beatles, they would be arrogant and loud and boisterous, but the reality couldn’t be further from that. They’re all so sweet snd polite, especially to the girls who are extras on set, and she finds herself pleasantly surprised.

George is the quietest of them all, and Pattie finds he’s the one she’s immediately drawn to. The conversation flows between them easily when he sits next to her at lunch, and it’s been a long time since since she’s got on so well with someone she’s only just met.

When they finish filming for the day, he asks her if she’d like to go out to dinner.

“Oh,” Pattie says, feeling a little embarrassed that she’s misread the situation. “It’s a lovely offer, but...I’m afraid I have a boyfriend.”

George chuckles and turns slightly red. “So do I. Sorry if that came off a little...well. I didn’t mean it like that. It just seems like you and I could be good friends and it would be nice to see you again. I don’t have a lot of friends outside the music business.”

He seems almost sad as he says that last part.

But Pattie smiles at him and agrees that dinner would be lovely.

*****

It’s only three weeks later that Pattie discovers George Harrison’s boyfriend is in fact Ringo Starr.

“Sorry you had to read about it in the newspaper,” George sighs with frustration. “We were trying to keep it quiet for a little while longer.”

He shoots a shy smile at Ringo, who has also joined them for dinner today.

“Now the world and his wife knows,” Ringo chuckles, but he looks happy as he laces his fingers with George’s.

Pattie is happy for them. They seem like a sweet couple, and it’s clear that their romance has blossomed from a strong friendship.

“You’ll have broken the hearts of half the men and women in Britain,” Pattie says softly.

The two of them share a secret smile, and Pattie wonders if she’ll ever have someone she can share a secret smile with.

*****

Pattie sees George as often as she can when he’s not on tour or working long hours in the studio.

He quickly becomes her best friend; they share everything with each other. George consoles Pattie every time a boy breaks her heart, as well as the odd time a girl does too. Pattie has never had a friend who she can be so open with; they talk about sex and their hopes and fears, and Pattie trusts George more than anyone.

She can’t help but feel a little bit sad when George moves to Surrey with Ringo.

She’s happy for them, of course she is. She knows that George has been wanting to leave London for a while; he’s desperate to get out of a flat and into a house with a nice big garden.

But it means that Pattie can’t just nip over to see George in less than ten minutes. Now she’ll have to settle for talking to him on the other end of the phone, and seeing him less frequently.

George does invite her to visit almost as soon as they’ve moved though, and as soon as Pattie sees the house she knows it’s perfect for him.

“You’re welcome any time,” George tells her cheerfully. “We have lots of rooms to spare.”

“Probably not for much longer though,” Pattie chuckles, and George just laughs shyly.

*****

Pattie feels rather honoured that she is the first person to find out that George and Ringo are engaged.

They’re in London for work and so suggest meeting up for dinner one night, and Pattie has barely given them both a hug before George is excitedly flashing a diamond ring at her.

“It’s gorgeous,” she says, trying not to sound jealous as she admires the beautiful ring. “I want to hear the story, of course.”

It sounds like it was a simple proposal; Ringo asked George to marry him before they went to bed one night, but it sounds really sweet and George looks over the moon.

“You’ll come to the wedding?” George says excitedly. “It would mean so much to us.”

Pattie accepts the invitation happily.

It turns out to be a small wedding. In addition to Pattie, George and Ringo invite their families, John, Paul, and Brian. It’s over in twenty minutes, but Pattie thinks it’s terribly romantic.

She wishes them nothing but a happy marriage, but she can’t help but wonder if she’s losing a little more of her best friend.

*****

Pattie finds her own husband and builds her own life, but she still can’t help but feel something is missing.

When George excitedly tells her that he’s expecting a baby, she wants to be nothing but happy for him.

But it only reminds her of her own struggles to get pregnant. That’s something she hasn’t yet shared with George.

When the baby is born Pattie visits George in the hospital and holds the little one in her arms and it just breaks her heart.

At that point she starts to live a little vicariously through George.

Pattie visits George and Ringo as often as she can to dote on the little one, and as the years pass they have more children while she is still left with none.

She tells George about her desire for the children she’ll never have, and he comforts her in just the way she needs. George has always made her feel like a part of the family, and she’ll be eternally grateful for that.

George keeps his word, of course. Pattie has an invitation to every birthday, every Christmas, every Easter. She watches George and Ringo’s children grow and she spoils them like they were her own.

Pattie may not ever have the family she once thought she might have, but she’s a part of something just as special.

*****

The second worst day of Pattie’s life is when George tells her he has cancer.

He sounds so calm when he says it, and Pattie really has to admire his strength. She ends up bawling her eyes out in his arms, and she can’t help but think it should be the other way around.

Pattie does everything she can to support him and Ringo and the children. She’s there to help with anything they need, and her heart breaks a little more each day as George gets weaker.

The worst day of Pattie’s life is when George dies.

Ringo phones her a little after four in the morning, and she’s never heard him sound so broken.

She drives over to the house right that instant, and holds Ringo while he cries and figures out what to say to the children.

She helps Ringo with the funeral arrangements, and flies with him to India to scatter George’s ashes. She’s glad she’s there for that.

She’s thinks of that beautiful boy she met all those years ago on that film set, and even though they never had romantic feelings towards one another, she can’t help but think he was the great love of her life.

[wayward-dreamer]

The Right Direction

AO3 Link: Read Here

Square Filled: Dog walker!Jensen

Pairing: Dog walker!Jensen x Female!Dog walker!Reader

Word count: 2,839 (Wow! I wrote something under 5K lol!)

Rating: Teen

Summary: Sometimes the wrong direction can turn out to be the right one.

Warnings: Some swearing, a bunch of cute dogs, fluff.

Created for @spnaubingo

A/N: This is written for @downanddirtydean‘s 500 followers challenge! Prompt is in bold. I hope you like it twin!! Thank you @deanwanddamons​ for being a beta on this! As always, I’d love to hear what you all think! Happy reading and enjoy! :)

Dividers by @firefly-graphics​ 

A wet nose and soft fur were the first things she felt on her hand every morning. Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, a groan leaving her as they adjusted to the light in the room. She felt the bed shift and heard the sound of a collar shaking, her smile growing as the furry ball landed in her lap. She stroked her little Corgi’s fluffy hair, kissing the top of his head.

“Morning, Ringo.” She planted another kiss on his head, her hands alternating between squishing his face and running over his light brown and white fluffy coat. “Someone hungry?”

Ringo licked his lips, signalling he was more than ready for breakfast.

“Alright, come on,” she muttered as she gently dropped him down on the floor of her bedroom.

Y/N got up from her bed, laughing as Ringo scurried out of the door ahead of her, stopping to wait impatiently near his bowl. His round behind wiggled, excited to be receiving his breakfast as Y/N picked up the bag of dog food, dropping some into the metal bowl.

“Stay,” she commanded, watching his innocent brown eyes look up at her. Waiting for a few seconds, she smiled. “Eat.”

Ringo gave his lips another lick, bending down and gobbling up a few pieces of dry food at a time. She smiled at him and then went about getting ready for the morning, quickly changing into her sweatpants and oversized sweater, throwing her hair up in a messy bun. By the time she was ready, Ringo was finished eating.

“Alright, shall we go?” she said, bending down in front of him and petting under his chin. She clipped his leash onto his collar, patting him at the same time. “Now, I’m trusting you to be good with the other dogs, so you better listen to me. Okay?”

Ringo gave her a little whine, causing her to lift an eyebrow. “Ringo.”

His paws started to tap excitedly against the floorboards, making Y/N give him a smile. “Good boy,” she said, scratching behind his head and standing up.

She quickly grabbed her keys, phone and wallet, heading out the door of her apartment, and walking down a few flights of stairs, Ringo in tow. She knocked on the door of an apartment, smiling as Mrs. Morris greeted her. She held the leash of her 6-year-old Border Collie, Betty, in her hand and smiled at her.

“Morning, Y/N. How are you?” she asked, as Betty’s tail wagged excitedly when she saw Ringo, more than ready for her walk.

“I’m great, Mrs. Morris. How are you?”

“Oh, you know, can’t complain,” the older woman said, handing her the leash. “Betty’s a little too excited this morning.”

Y/N patted Betty a few times, shaking her head. “I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

With a goodbye, she walked Betty and Ringo down the last two flights of stairs, and out onto the sidewalk. She held onto the leashes, enjoying the sun but there was as a slight chill against her face on the bright autumn morning. They walked for about ten minutes, picking up more dogs along the way. A Bulldog, a Pomeranian and a Chihuahua. Y/N walked them into the dog park, knowing how much they loved to run around and play with each other. They were all from the same neighborhood and socially used to each other, making her job much easier. However, Y/N was in desperate need of caffeine, having forgone a cup at home to get the dogs. Making a quick stop at a vendor, she paid for her steaming cup of black coffee and continued to walk them all down the path in the park, trying to find a clear spot to sit down and let them run around.

Y/N kept the dogs in front of her, all of their leashes in one hand, and her drink in the other, trying to get away from unfamiliar pets they hadn’t interacted with yet. As she smiled down at her fur friends for the morning, she basked in the peacefulness of the walk.

Suddenly, Y/N screamed as she collided with another dog walker, a man completely distracted with his phone and not watching what the German Shepherd and Golden Retriever he was walking were doing. Her shoulder got knocked backwards, her arm coming up and spilling her piping hot coffee all down the front of her sweater. She screamed again as the liquid seeped through the material, making contact with  her skin. Thankfully, the sweater she was wearing was thick and she didn’t get severely burnt by the hot beverage.

“Oh my god! I am so, so sorry!” the man apologized, steadying the dog’s leash as he stashed his phone away.

“Sorry?! Watch where you’re going next time, you asshole!” she yelled, using her free hand to wipe the front of her sweater with her sleeve. She hadn’t even looked up at the man yet, focusing on cleaning herself. Her ever loyal companion, Ringo growled at the other dogs, who were slightly bigger than him and were growling back.

“Ringo, it’s okay,” Y/N said, calmly as she pulled lightly on all the leashes, moving the animals  behind her legs. They were all starting to bark, getting riled up by the man’s German Shepherd and Golden Retriever.

“I really am sorry,” the man said, as he pulled the dog he was walking back, “He gets really excited when he comes here, and I was trying to message someone-”

“Well maybe don’t do that,” she grumbled, soaking up the coffee with her sleeve as best as she could. She finally looked up, her eyes blinking as she took in the guy who bumped into her. He was incredibly gorgeous, with green eyes that looked guilty and soft and plump lips that he was biting into. She looked like an absolute mess in her casual attire, and here he was, towering over her and looking like a male model in a dog park.

“Please let me buy you another,” he said, sheepishly as he pointed to her shirt.

She shook her head, a little stunned by the good-looking man in front of her. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

“I feel terrible,” he muttered, frowning as he gestured to the German Shepherd “He pulled suddenly while I was texting. It’s no excuse, I know, but he must’ve gotten excited when he saw your dogs.”

“It’s really okay,” Y/N reassured him. She felt awful for yelling at him now that she saw how apologetic he was, “They’re not mine. I’m a dog walker. Only the Corgi belongs to me.”

“I am too, but this guy is mine,” he smiled, gesturing to the German Shepherd next to him, who was now sitting and looking up at Y/N. “His name’s Jagger.”

“Jagger? As in Mick?” she asked, chuckling.

“Yeah,” he replied, smiling. He patted the top of the Golden Retriever’s head, smiling. “This is Astro. Neighbor’s kid is a big Jetsons fan.”

Y/N laughed, gesturing to her best friend in the whole world, “This is Ringo.”

“As in Starr?” he asked, smirking.

She laughed again, nodding. “Yeah. The Border is Betty, the Bulldog is Jackson, the Pom is Mimi, and the Chihuahua is Coco.”

“Ringo and Jagger… we sure know how to pick some good names,” he said, smiling at her.

“Yeah,” she agreed, smiling back at him. “Anyway, I should get going.”

“I really feel awful about this,” he muttered, frowning. “Can I make it up to you some time?”

She bit her lip, smiling as she shrugged. “We’ll see.” She would have to think about it, considering they had just met, and it wasn’t exactly the greatest first meeting.

“I’m Jensen, by the way.” He offered his hand, smiling softly at her. She took it in hers and felt the butterflies in her stomach begin to flutter.

“Y/N,” she said, smiling back at him. She looked down when she felt a wet nose against her hand, seeing Jagger nudging at her hand. She crouched down and patted him down, scratching behind his ears. The dogs tried to move around her to get to him, but she kept nudging them away, lightly. He whined when she stood up, pulling on his leash as he tried to follow her.

“Jagger, no. We gotta go, man,” Jensen told the dog, steering him in the other direction with Astro in tow.

With one last look at the man who she was totally caught off guard by, Y/N led the dogs away, unfortunately having to cut their walk short.  Jensen smiled as he turned and watched her walk away, hoping that he would see her again. He felt terrible and just hoped he had another shot to get to talk to Y/N. He had seen her from across the park before the collision happened. She was beautiful and despite the horrible circumstance, the moment their eyes met he knew he was done for.

They always say dogs have the best instinct about people, and Jensen was happy to know that Y/N was a good person according to Jagger’s eagerness to go with her. He just hoped there would be no hot coffee in the way of him getting to talk to her the next time he saw her.

A few days had passed since the incident in the park. Y/N was back there again, this time only with Ringo, and it was just after lunch. She handed in her article for the week, meeting her deadline a day early and decided to take her fluff ball for a run around in the dog park once she had submitted the article to her editor. She laughed as he ran circles around her on the grass, a blur of brown and white fur. As he continued to run, Y/N’s attention was suddenly taken away from him, as she heard someone clear their throat behind her. She turned and smiled, seeing the handsome dog walker who bumped into her a few days ago, a white cup in one hand, the leash to his beautiful German Shepherd in the other.

“A peace offering?” he stated.

“You didn’t have to,” she said, shaking her head.

He held out the cup insistently, smiling when she took it. “Yes, I did.”

She held her palm out, allowing the dog to come near her. The animal sniffed her a few times and licked her hand.  Y/N instantly moved her hand behind his ears to pet him. “He’s gorgeous.” As is his owner she thought to herself as she looked at Jensen, “How old is he?”

“He’s four,” Jensen told her, smirking. “Still acts like a puppy sometimes, though.”

“Aren’t they always a puppy no matter how big they get?” she asked, chuckling. Jagger started nudging against Y/N, wanting her to play with him. Jensen smiled, glad that his dog approved of her.

“Yeah,” he nodded, and looked down as Ringo came running to her, interested to see who her new friend was. Ringo hopped excitedly towards Jagger, not intimidated by the size difference between them at all.

“Hey buddy, you remember Jagger?” she asked, smiling brightly. She crouched down, calming him slightly as Jagger began to growl. Jensen got down to the dog’s level, holding him back slightly.

“Hey, behave,” Jensen commanded.

Comforting both of the dogs, Jensen let Jagger move forward a little first. He sniffed Ringo as Y/N let him go slightly too, to do the same. They tried to figure each other out, and one lick from Jagger had Ringo running off, turning to see if he would follow. Jensen let him off the leash, watching as he ran off, both of them play- fighting as they rolled over on the grass. Y/N and Jensen stood back, watching their dogs become fast friends.

“He doesn’t take to small dogs so quickly,” Jensen remarked as he watched his German Shepherd play with the small Corgi.

“Ringo loves every dog he comes across,” Y/N said, smiling as she watched them play. “So, I’m glad he found another friend.”

“Me too,” he muttered, smiling. “Jagger’s been lonely. I keep thinking I should get another one just so he doesn’t feel it anymore.”

“Well, until you do… he’s welcome to play with Ringo,” she stated, smiling at the gorgeous man next to her. The butterflies had returned, and she was finding it hard to keep her cool around him.

“Thanks.” Jensen smiled back at her, trying not to hold eye contact with her for longer than necessary, suddenly nervous to be near to her again.

After that afternoon, Jensen and Y/N had a standing meeting every Thursday afternoon in the dog park. As Jagger and Ringo played together, Y/N and Jensen would talk about everything they could before the dogs exhausted themselves. They discussed how they got the dogs, what they did for a living apart from dog walking (Jensen told her he worked at a brewery and Y/N told him she wrote for the paper), their favourite movies, books, music and more. By the fourth meeting, Y/N was hoping that he would ask her out on an official date. She knew she couldn’t be the only one feeling an attraction between them and wished more than anything that he would pluck up the courage and ask her. Maybe she would have to if he didn’t, but that was something she had never done before.

On the day of their usual meeting, Y/N and Jensen strolled the length of the park, walking Jagger and Ringo side by side. Every now and then, they would turn and smile at each other, as Jensen kept telling himself to open his mouth and ask her out on a date. Letting the dogs off their leashes, the owners watched on as they did every week, the dogs now absolute best friends. A brown leaf fell from the tree branch above Jensen and Y/N, landing on her nose and getting stuck there. Jensen laughed as he leaned over, using his thumb and forefinger to remove it.

“Thanks,” she whispered, looking up at him. Their bodies were close, both of them in slightly warmer clothes now that the weather was turning.

“No problem,” he mumbled, smiling. He looked out ahead at the park, worrying his lip as he thought about how to approach the subject of asking her on a date. “Okay, so…”

“What’s up?” she asked,  her stomach fluttering at the thought that the moment had finally arrived.

“I, uh… I really like you, Y/N,” he told her, his smile becoming wider as he turned to her.

“I really like you too, Jensen,” she said, beaming up at him.

He sighed in relief, nodding. “Okay, so then… I would love to- I mean that is if you want to, I really want to take you on a non-dog park date.” Dear Lord, this isn’t going well he told himself as he cringed at his bad attempt to ask her out.

“You know…” She laughed as she looked into his eyes. “Must be hard with your sense of direction. Never being able to find your way to a decent pick-up line.”

Jensen chuckled nervously, his cheeks red with embarrassment. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“Nope,” she said, smiling as she winked.

A moment passed as they continued to look at each other. Jensen backtracked, a little more confident this time.

Taking a deep breath, he looked at her. “Y/N, would you like to go out for dinner with me?”

She smiled up at him, finding him so adorable in that moment. “Yes.”

The first date turned into a second. The second into a third. They would meet up in the dog park, some days with Jagger and Ringo, and others with all the others they would walk on a regular basis. With huddles of dogs of different breeds, they walked closer and closer to each other, stealing kisses and loving looks.

Dates and dog walking turned into getting down on one knee, the ring box clipped to Ringo’s collar as Jensen asked Y/N if she wanted to spend her life with him, with Jagger in tow.

They married in a small ceremony, with Jagger and Ringo at their feet, more than happy to be best fur friends forever.

And eventually… the news of an addition to their little family came, with Jensen and Y/N completely over the moon with the dogs getting a human brother or sister.

Y/N sat on the couch, smiling as she patted Jagger and Ringo’s heads, both of them sitting on either side of her, their noses close to her growing belly. Jensen walked in, a bowl of popcorn in his hand, settling into the couch next her, putting Ringo’s body over his legs. Y/N turned to him and leaned in, kissing his lips softly as he turned to her.

They say that dogs have great instinct.

And for that, Jensen and Y/N would always be grateful to have two fur companions that brought them into each other’s lives.

-x-

If you’re crossed out, Tumblr won’t let me tag you :(

Tags: @deanwanddamons @winchest09 @downanddirtydean @jensengirl83 @wonder-cole @that-one-gay-girl @flamencodiva @ellewritesfix05 @roonyxx @akshi8278 @hobby27 @michellethetvaddict @spngirl05 @kyjey @halesandy @440mxs-wife @stoneyggirl @deanswaywardgirl @redbarn1995 @marianita195 @babypink224221 @deans-baby-momma @parinarain @thoughts-and-funnies @mandalou29 @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @superaveng @supernatural-love14 @vicmc624 @prettyboyswow @lunarmoon8 @supernatural-bellawinchester

[bluebeatlesgirls]

"Maureen is my home" -Ringo Starr

"Ringo had this habit of lighting up two cigarettes, one for Maureen at the same time that he lit his own. I remember thinking it was a loving thing to do and wishing John did it for me." -Cynthia Powell

( Maureen ) "... knows the moment I face her what's wrong and what to do about it, and I'm happy again in a minute." -Ringo Starr

"They were always holding hands. Every time she picked up a cigarette, Ringo would suddenly appear next to her with his silver lighter. He'd look at her adoringly, she'd look at him lovingly, and when she exhaled, she'd lower her eyes as if the moment was too intimate even for a man and a woman who had been married for four years. They were crazy about each other, no doubt about that...their casual intimacy assured me that it is possible to keep a love story going even after several years of marriage. True love really is possible,' I found myself thinking." -Chris O'Dell

"Now you're expecting me to live without you but that's not something that I'm looking forward to" -Photograph, Ringo Starr

"l'd already met Maureen. Ringo had been going out with her since before he moved to London. She was great, a really nice Liverpudlian woman, always really funny and lively, with a great sense of humor. Ringo would often go home to see his parents and Maureen. He went back to Liverpool more than the others." -Astrid Kirchherr

"Maureen was really incredible with Ringo, especially when the boys were recording until the early hours of the morning. Instead of going to bed she would wait up until he came home and serve him a wonderful roast dinner, even if it happened to be five in the morning." -Cynthia Powell

"Ringo & Maureen, who married in 1965, seemed to have a fabulously happy relationship. They were so comfortable with each other and were my idea of the ideal couple" -Lulu Gibb

"Ringo's other passion was making his own short films. He had lots of equipment and loved to experiment, so after the nanny had taken over Zak and Julian we'd watch his latest movie. One was a fifteen-minute study of Maureen's face." -Cynthia Powell

"She was a fan whose dream had come true. She had started out as one of the hundreds of teenage girls who queued day after day at the Cavern to get close to the front of the stage for the best possible view of the Beatles and in hope that they might catch the eye of one. Every fan had a favorite, and Ringo was hers." -Pattie Boyd

"She considered her relationship with George a fling without any lasting significance. Ringo was the love of her life." -Chris O'Dell

"Ringo and Maureen had just had their second child together and seemed so comfortable, like an old married couple." -Paul Saltzman

"Maureen Cox is the girl I most often see when I'm home in Liverpool. She's real pretty and we have a FABULOUS time when we go out." -Ringo Starr

"Ringo and Maureen behaved like two little love birds. The beautiful occasional birds disappeared from view and Ringo got with the serious business of courting his true love." -Cynthia Powell

"The break-up of my first marriage was one of the most miserable times in my life." -Ringo Starr

Happy anniversary to Ringo and Mo

February 11th, 1965. 56 years ago

[idontwanttospoiltheparty]

which Taylor songs do you think fit each bug/the band best? (:

wtf this is such a cool ask!!

John: this is me trying and it's NOT even funny how fitting it is. He's the EMBODIMENT of a huge fuck up with addiction and anger problems, once an overachiever but now in a hard-to-get-out-of pit, but he will continue to try to get back out of there and make things right. 😔

They told me all of my cages are mental / So I got wasted like all my potential / And my words shoot to kill when I'm mad / I have a lot of regrets about that.

Paul: Another clear case here: Paul is mirrorball through and through. He is a dawner of personas and faces that fit his situation, he is someone who needs attention to thrive and is always trying his best to make everything work out. And sadly, he is someone whom the world has enjoyed to watch suffer.

I want you to know / I'm a mirrorball / I'll show you every version of yourself tonight / I'll get you out on the floor / Shinmering beautiful / And when I break it's in a million pieces.

Ringo: To me, the defining factor of Ringo is his warmth and compassion. The Taylor song that feels the most like that to me is That's When. No particular lyrics here because this song is actually about someone asking to have space within a romantic relationship and the other person granting them that without a second thought. It just feels so LOVING. Like Ringo.

George: George in the break up is it's time to go, which makes me sad. He's endured being cut down to size by people he was close to and at some point he's learned to do what's best for him :( Also The Lucky One, because he sought and found a peaceful life beyond fame.

That old familiar body ache / The snaps from the same little breaks / In your soul / You know / When it's time to go.

They say you bought a bunch of land somewhere / Chose the rose garden over Madison Square

Bugs in general: Change for the early years up until Ed Sullivan of trying to get to the top. the last great american dynasty is sort of like how they were seen by the press during their touring years. The Story Of Us for the beginning of the breakdown in 68. For the break up: coney island, happiness, and probably every single Taylor break up song could be applied to some aspect of that whole shebang.

It was the night things changed / Can you see it now? / When the walls that they put up to hold us back fell down.

Who knows if I never showed up what could have been? / There goes the loudest woman this town has ever seen / I had a marvelous time ruining everything.

I'm scared to see the ending / Why are we pretending this is nothing? / I'd tell you I miss you but I don't know how / I've never heard silence quite this loud.

If I can't relate to you / Anymore then who am I related to? / And if this is the long haul / How'd we get here so soon? / Did I close my fist / Around something delicate? / Did I shatter you?

I hope she'll be a beautiful fool / Who takes my spot next to you / No I didn't mean that / Sorry I can't see facts / Through all of my fury / You haven't met the new me yet.