#off the beatle track

[casterwolflena]

Off the Beatle Track: Love Songs

Released in 1977, Love Songs is another themed Beatles compilation around the obvious: the Beatles’ many love songs, with a particular focus on ballads. In this regard it’s kind of the slower, softer counterpart to Rock ’n’ Roll Music from 1976, aimed at an older audience – the simple cover art consisted of a faux-leather background, and the Beatles’ image was faux gold foil. Sonically, the songs…

[cherriiramen]

other anon reminded me that there has been no Mcharrison on your blog in ages

where the pookies, cherri?

so…

Theory??

[rodeoromeo]

I have a college friend visiting me this weekend and he like … knows what’s going on with me in general but I spoke about the Beatles for like 10 min I was giving some dissertation about I can’t remember what but it was veeeery surface level Beatles stuff in my opinion and he was like . Where do you LITERALLY store all of this in your brain????? I was like well when some chemicals in my head love each other very much

[plexiglassonion]

Mother Nature's Son but played like a Simon and Garfunkel song would sound incredibly fitting now that I'm thinking about it

[apollos-boyfriend]

just saw a picture of gnf for the first time in ages and jesus christ. why does he look like if one of the beatles had a shitty deadbeat son who was convinced his soundcloud rapping career was just one diss track away from popping off

[muzaktomyears]

Two of Us play notes/thoughts/Easter eggs I noticed

they played solo Beatles tracks as waiting music before the play began so I sat there listening to ‘Monkberry Moon Delight’ with a theatreful of people which was great 

before Paul turns up John is baking(/burning) bread

John is wearing underwear under his dressing gown which obvs had to be but also my suspension of disbelief was CHALLENGED

when Paul rings up to be let in John does a little rhyme to make him prove he is who he says he is. this is not the exact wording but it went something like: "Five little boys in Hamburg did play/All through the night and all through the day/Ingrid the stripper would do anything/But who got the clap? Was it sexy Stu Sutcliffe - or the lead singer in Wings?" and then Paul has to admit it was him who got the clap

when Paul takes his shoes off he also takes his socks off - idk if this is an intentional barefoot Paul thing but it is hilarious later when they're fighting and Paul is about to leave and angrily putting his socks back on

John and Paul have Get Back era hair/beards, which is weird - presumably because they assume people going to see this will also have seen Get Back but might not know their 1976 looks as well?? idk

some of the dialogue and references have been made a bit more British - the skit they do at the piano is now set in a British greasy spoon instead (still with the American accents)

instead of fighting "like the Hatfields and McCoys" they're now fighting like "the Montagues and the Capulets" (👀)

'Sh-Boom' is played on the record player while they smoke weed (Paul uses the album cover to roll the joint)

George and Ringo both get more of a mention! Paul says that George is happy now (John replies that he's not happy, he's reincarnated). John tells Paul a story Ringo told him about going on a bus in NYC and being recognised.

"I'm the best fuck you ever had" is said by John during the fight (Paul replies "If that's your way of saying you were the real brains behind the Beatles-" etc. etc.)

"You should have married me when you had the chance" is said by John during the Yoko/losing my friend bit

"It's only me" as John's way to get Paul not to leave after the fight

when John goes out to get disguises for them Paul sits at the piano and starts playing some notes he finds there (he'd asked about them earlier and John had said they're nothing). we get a few notes of 'Now and Then' before John returns (ghjshgkhgkdshgksd who did this I HATE YOU)

the appearance of the I Love Paul badge!! John wears it on his disguise jacket and Paul asks what it says. John tells him and then Paul replies "Lucky Paul".......

they never go outside in this version - John says he'll go but then thinks better of it. this means that John comes across as even more locked away than he does in the film.

the police bit is sort of done when Paul puts on a leather hat from the disguises and pretends to be a policeman come to question John, who John then talks back at. he also yells out of the window at some police below at one point.

Paul realises they're never actually going to Luigi's, so John lays the table for him as if they're at a restaurant together (including calling him "Lady McCartney" and "my love")

the bit with the fan is sort of recreated but instead it's John asking Paul whether he truly thinks Wings at the Speed of Sound is the number 1 record in America (which obvs changes it quite a lot)

Julian is brought up - they're toasting to various people/things (ending with "Dr. Winston O'Boogie and Paul Ramon") and Paul says "to Julian" and sort of confronts John about him and how he treated him

during the toasting Paul also mentions "putting hair on a seagull's chest" which John questions and then Paul says it's something his dad used to say

I thought the lift scene/roof scene wouldn't be happening... BUT THEN a lift descended from the ceiling ❤️ the magic of theatre

the kiss still happens and idk but I thought the vibe was a bit different from the film version - less jokey (and no lines after about brushing his teeth/is my name Brian)

Paul: I bought into it that you and me didn't get along well (paraphrasing the Stephen Colbert interview)

they hug at the end of the roof conversation (I was sat very close to this since the actors come in front of the stage to do it and they were both crying and it WAS ALL TOO MUCH 😭😭)

John gets them two guitars to practice with before they go out and they sit opposite each other in chairs and Paul says “I know which one to begin with” and John says “What?” and they lean forward and then the phone rings

when Paul leaves John he’s crying and it’s like okay rip out my heart I guess

the play ends with Paul on the phone to Linda and John on the phone to Yoko, at opposite sides of the stage, and they say “I love you” to their wives but also to each other and it’s ridiculous????

yeah then ‘Give Peace a Chance’ plays which is such a bizarre choice idek

anyway who knows if it's a good play or what the actual people there thought about it because obvs I can have no rational reaction to it but I'm so glad I went to see it because someone on the writing team is one of us I SEE YOU

[steifel]

My random ass outsiders head canons PT2

If You listen to him really closely you can hear a slight New York accent when Johhny talks because he spends so much time with Dally

Pony was the type of kid who would get in trouble for biting

Dallas absolutely HATES the Beatles with a firey passion

Johnny however is a huge Beatles fan

Darry is at every single parent teacher conference and every single track meet (when he's not working) he just really wants to support Ponyboy

Soda and Darry are super embarrassing at Pony's track meets

They are the type of guys to make/ wear "go Ponyboy" shirts

Ponyboy is like obnoxiously clumsy

He broke his foot one time walking into a wall

Dally has gotten shot/stabbed multiple time at this point he sees it as an inconvenience rather than an actual problem

Soda will dance to absolutely any type of music

He has actually been known to dance when there is no music

Steve makes fun of him for it

Twobit doesn't have a drivers licence

Whenever Soda is upset he has Pony read to him

Soda really wants a big family some day

This man wants like 10 kids

Johnny never lets anyone see him shirtless no matter how hot it is or if he's going swimming

Everybody else thinks he's self conscious about his body but Dally knows its because of the scars

When Soda was a kid he got lost like 7 times because that child would just wonder off

The whole gang knows that Ponyboy likes guys, but no one is ready to have that conversation yet

Sodapop totally ships Ponyboy and Johnny

Pony is oblivious to both of these facts

Sometimes in the middle of the night Darry goes to sit at Johnny's grave and just breaks down because he couldn't save him

Speaking of Johnny's grave Pony sits and reads to it sometimes. He finished gone with the wind and of course reads Johnny (and Dally) his essay

Sometimes Darry finds Ponyboy asleep next to Johnny's grave with a book in his hand

Dally left New York because he had gotten a girl into "some trouble"

[spooky-pomegranate]

Through The Door:

Captain Price x F Reader (18+) 🔥 Word Count: 2.2K

Summary: Ghost doesn't trust you and when he hears you and Captain Price fighting in his office he stops to listen. But he hears and sees more than he ever expected.

It’s been ten days of this. Ten days of watching, following, and listening. And somehow it still hadn’t been enough time. Ghost still hadn’t caught you. But he knew he would. He just had to remain patient. He’d keep watching. You’d slip up eventually. He was sure of it.

Even if you did have everyone else fooled.

In just ten days, you had already made fast friends with Johnny. The two of you were always laughing and telling one another stupid jokes and stories.

The last thing you’d carried on about was music. You preferred old-school rock and roll. The Stones, The Who, The Beatles. But you liked classical too. You made fun of Soap for his favorite genre, cheery electropop. You called it music for “love-sick teenage girls” and teased him endlessly. He called you “a walking iPod shuffle” and said you were confused about your own taste. You playfully punched Johnny in the arm before you both laughed like hyenas.

It was like you were siblings, the way you constantly bantered and bickered. It set Ghost on edge. You both were so comfortable around each other. It was so familiar, so natural… It wasn’t right.

And Gaz, he wasn’t any better. You had asked him for additional training and on most days, Ghost found you two at the shooting range long after the recruits had left for dinner. At first, your conversations were shallow. In between firing rounds of high-caliber ammunition, you asked him about his life on base and how long he’d known Soap and Price. But the conversations eventually grew longer. And they grew deeper. Gaz told you about his family, his hometown, and his childhood. You told him about how difficult it was to leave the States and move to the UK on your own.

Ghost could tell that as the days were passing and as your conversations were growing more meaningful, the two of you were starting to trust one another more. And that frustrated him. Why couldn’t Gaz see what he saw in you?

He wondered if your skills were what threw the others off.

Ghost couldn’t deny that you were better than most of the other recruits. You were a natural at the shooting range. You picked up on techniques quickly and put them into practice almost flawlessly. And even though you pretended to be intimidated by it in the beginning you were especially good with a sniper rifle. You always asked the right questions about the winds, the terrain, and any potential bullet drop. And while Ghost found that suspicious, Gaz seemed to be amazed by it. Proud even. He joked with you about how quickly you could do math in your head and how that would come in handy if you were ever posted up in a sniper’s nest someday.

“Over my dead body,” Ghost had mumbled to himself as he watched you both from the shadows.

But you weren’t perfect. When Ghost did pull himself out of the base’s dark corners and did talk with you, you were always nervous. You spoke at breakneck speeds. Your sentences mushed together, like a quickly moving mudslide, totally out of control and unpredictable. You struggled to look him in the eyes. You fidgeted, stared at your shoes, and gave him any excuse you could to get away.

 “Sorry can’t chat, Johnny wants to train in the gym.”

 “I think I just heard Gaz call my name.”

 “Gotta go. Price needs me.”

And Price… you definitely had that man wrapped around your little finger. Or at least Ghost thought you did until one night when he heard you two fighting inside the Captain’s office.

“Price, why won’t you tell me what you and Laswell are planning for the raid?”

Your words had stopped Ghost in his tracks. He glanced down the empty hall to make sure no one was around before sinking to his knees and pressing his ear to the door of Price’s office.

“Come on, love we’ve been over this,” he heard the Captain answer.

“But I can help!”

Your voice was pleading. You were practically begging Price. But why did you care so much Ghost wondered?

“I want you to focus on training. You asked me to teach you to fight remember?”

“I know… but you also promised to let me take some of the weight off your shoulders too.”

“You’re too smart, you know that.”

“Price…” you whined the Captain’s name and Ghost rolled his eyes. He imagined that on the other side of the door, you were probably looking up at Price with doe eyes. Needy and wanton. God… you probably were pouting your lips too.

He could only hope that Price would see through you.

“I want you to be as prepared as you can be before then. I can handle this, I promise ya I’m fine. We’ve got more resources and men now. It’s not like before. We aren’t alone anymore. Ya trust me don’t you?”

Good man, Ghost thought to himself. Don’t give in to her so easily. As long as Price continued to keep his cards close to his chest maybe they’d all get through this in one piece.

“But what if he’s there? What if he has my briefcase there and he’s figured out how to use it? He’ll see you coming. Price what if this is a setup?” You were doing that thing where you spoke 100 miles an hour again, your words sloshing and sliding into one another.

“Laswell’s been surveilling the area. He hasn’t been there. Your briefcase isn’t there.”

“Price but what if-”

“Shhh. It’s okay. Come here, love.”

Ghost heard the sound of a chair scrape and footsteps shuffle away from the door. He knew you were walking over to Price. He could practically see you standing in front of him in his mind.

Then you sighed.

“I’m tired, Price.” Your voice was softer. Ghost could barely hear you now. He tried to press even closer to the door. The metal was cold against his ear. “I know I asked for this… learning how to fight. But it’s harder than I thought it would be and…”

You stopped.

“Go on. Say it.”

“Your Lieutenant…”

Shit. Your voice was muffled.

Shit. He needed to hear this.

Ghost slowly reached for the door handle and carefully, he turned the knob. The door opened the smallest crack. He peered inside.

You were sitting across the room, straddled on Price’s lap. Your head was buried against his chest. The Captain’s hands rubbed against the back of your t-shirt in lazy circles.

“Ghost? What about him, sweetheart?”

At the sound of Price’s voice, you pulled your head from his chest.

“He hates me.”

Price stilled and his jaw clenched. Neither of you spoke. Ghost held his breath before looking to his left and right. Thankfully, the coast was still clear.

“He doesn’t trust you,” Price eventually said, breaking through the silence.

“That’s the same thing.”

“It’s not.”

You sighed loudly and moved to stand, but Price reached up and quickly pulled you back toward him by your hips.

“Don’t leave,” Price said, his voice low and firm. “I trust you.”

“Then why doesn’t he?”

Because I know there’s something else going on with you, Ghost thought to himself. Because I know there’s a secret you’re hiding.

“Because he doesn’t know you like I do.” Price replied, his hand moving up your spine to hold the back of your head. “He doesn’t know how smart you are. That you can build something from nothing. He doesn’t know that you’re a fighter, that you’ve been dealt a shite hand in life but you’ve always soldiered on.”

Price leaned forward and kissed you.

Ghost looked down at the floor. He should leave, he thought. He should go back to the barracks and sit behind his computer and look for dirt on you that way. It would be less awkward. He’d feel less strange.

But Ghost didn’t move. He couldn’t.

What if this was the moment you finally slipped? What if you said something? He needed to be more patient. He’d stay a little longer. If only for Gaz, for Johnny. If they got hurt because he missed something he’d never forgive himself.

He watched as Price leaned back, pulling away from your lips. A smile sprawled across his face.

“He doesn’t know how sweet you taste either, sweetheart.”

You laughed, running your own hands through Price’s short hair as the Captain dove into your neck.

“I mean it, love. If any of those boys got to taste you like I do, if they got to feel you like I do…” Price pulled back from your neck and looked you in the eye. “If they got to fuck you like I do… none of them would ever distrust you.”

“Price, that isn’t really reassuring. You’re just saying you trust me because we’ve fucked.”

Ghost’s grip tightened against the door knob. Was that what Price was saying? Was that really all you were to him? A plaything?

He opened the door another inch. He needed to see your face better. He had to know what this was between you and his Captain.

“Remember the first day I brought you here? And I took you to my room. And I showed you all my scars. Do you remember?”

Ghost watched as Price tugged on your hair. Your head tilted back toward the ceiling and the captain dove into your neck again, kissing you just below your ear.

“Yes,” you answered with heavily weighted breath.

“And do you remember how you kissed me? How you teased me before you slid your sweet little tongue into my mouth? Do you remember?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed in affirmation.

“And do you remember how good it felt when my tongue was in between your legs? How it felt when my beard brushed against your thighs.”

Ghost felt his face grow hot. The scene in front of him made him feel like an intruder, a dirty and unwelcome voyeur. He knew he should leave.

But he couldn't make himself move.

He needed the truth.

He watched as one of Price’s hands left your hair and trailed slowly down your body. His fingers moved from your collarbone. Lower. Grazing your breast. Lower. Lingering over your stomach… Lower.

“Yesssss,” you whined as Price’s hand slid underneath the waistband of your pants and disappeared from Ghost’s view.

“And do you remember how hard you made me? Just by tasting you? Tell me you remember.”

You whimpered. It was a sound Ghost had never heard from you. Sweet. High-pitched. Soft.

Price’s shoulder moved up and down. His hand still plunged between your legs.

Ghost swallowed against a lump in his throat.

“I- fuckkkk,” you bucked your hips toward Price, “I remember.”

“And tell me you remember how I fucked you. When I first pushed inside you… how was it? Do you remember was I fast, like this?”

Ghost watched as Price moved his hand quicker. In and out. His right shoulder rose. Up and down. Faster, faster, and faster.

You yelped. The noise was loud and short. Your hands left Price’s hair and dug into his shoulders. You were clawing into him desperately. Falling apart with every second, every movement.

“No… no you weren’t fast,” your voice wavered as you answered.

“Good. Good girl. You remembered. Yeah, I was slow, just like this. Wasn’t I?” Price eased his pace, slowing down the movement of his hand buried in your pants.

“Yes… just like that,” you moaned as your eyes rolled back. You were lifting your hips up and down on Price’s lap now. Matching his pace.

Ghost shifted on his knees. His hand tightened against the doorknob as he continued to watch you both from the dimly lit hall.

“Has anyone else ever made you feel like that before, sweetheart? Has anyone ever made you feel that good?” Price asked as his voice dropped lower. He was practically growling at you.

And you…your face turned pink. Your lips parted. Your eyes closed. And your breathing… it became sporadic. Each inhale became a gasp. Each exhale became more desperate than the last.

This was wrong. Ghost shouldn’t be watching this. This wasn’t his intention. He never meant to see this. His eyes fell to the ground. But still, he stayed. He listened.

“No,” you moaned.

“That’s right. And no one has ever made me feel as good as you did either. You felt so good, love. So fucking good. And you want to know why I trust you?”

Ghost eyes snapped back to the two of you. This was the answer he needed.

“Mmmm tell me...” you gasped. The Captain picked up his pace, his hand delving between your legs with greater force. God the sounds your body was making. They were so loud. “Please tell me, Price.”

“It’s because I love you, beautiful. I’m so in love with you. You’re so perfect. I trust you with my life because I love you. I want to fuck you like that all the time… because I love you. If anyone got to love you like I love you they would trust you. Forever. Always.”

Ghost heard enough. He quietly backed away and gently closed the door.

He had found a truth today. Even if it wasn’t his place to hear it.

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

(More from this story on AO3)

[nevereverywhere]

The »The End« guitar solos or "how to subtly show your love by playing guitar together, when talking about problems is apparently not a possibility" Quotes by Geoff Emerick, sound engineer and record producer: 'I know!' he (John) said mischievously, unwilling to let it go. 'Why don't we all play the solo? We can take turns and trade licks.' Long guitar solos with dueling lead guitarists were becoming the vogue at the time, so it was a suggestion that clearly had merit. George (Martin) looked dubious, but Paul not only embraced the idea but upped the ante further still: 'Better yet,' he said, 'why don't all three of us play it live?' Lennon loved the idea – for the first time in weeks I saw a real gleam in his eye. It didn't take long for John's enthusiasm to rub off on George Harrison, who finally got into the spirit of things. John, Paul and George looked like they had gone back in time, like they were kids again, playing together for the sheer enjoyment of it. More than anything, they reminded me of gunslingers, with their guitars strapped on, looks of steely-eyed resolve, determined to outdo one another. Yet there was no animosity, no tension at all – you could tell they were simply having fun. The order was Paul first, then George, then John, and they went back and forth. They ran down their ideas a few times and before you knew it, they were ready to go. Their amps were lined up together and we recorded their parts on one track. You could really see the joy in their faces as they played; it was like they were teenagers again. One take was all we needed. The musical telepathy between them was mind-boggling. Incredibly, after just a brief period of rehearsal, they nailed it in a single take. When it was over, there was no backslapping or hugging – The Beatles rarely expressed themselves physically like that – but there were lots of broad grins. I guess there's also the possibility that, as they were performing the solo, they realized they might never get to play together again; perhaps they were viewing that moment as a poignant farewell. It was the first time in a long time that the three of them were actually playing together in the studio.

[hxlda-hxlda]

thank u thank u @fiddleleafedfig for the tag !!

nine people you want to get to know better

last song: when i opened the tag, 'alien blues' by vundabar but currently i'm listening to hozier 'would that i'. as of finishing writing this, radiohead. there you have it.

favourite colour: a deep cherry red. the kind that would make a really lovely lipstick gloss.

last movie/tv show: i'm terrible with shows and movies, but i was watching the bowie doco (moonage daydream) the other day, keeping on brand ik. i also love british comedians so 'would i lie to you?' is probably up there as well.

sweet/savoury/spicy: sweet if it is really well done. i'm talking specifically that one pub down by where i live that for some reason makes the best chocolate lava cake ever. if not, savoury forever.

last thing i googled: beatles guitar songs for beginners. i've decided to relearn guitar and i'm back to the absolute basics.

current obsession: concerts! this is a long-standing love but it is very evident lately. the way concerts down here work is that no one comes for years bc of the trek to aus, and then randomly there's this one month period where everybody is here at once and suddenly i have to choose between favs. that has been this month! hard on the bank account but my soul is thriving with a concert every other week. saw noah kahan, it was life-altering.

last book: i'm between the '50 yrs of led zeppelin' biography by mick wall, and 'anna karenina' by tolstoy atm. (adding it) last fic: blends by rvltn909. finished it yesterday and oh my god. the crime that was me putting it off.

looking forward to: still a little ways away, but i'm moving to america for (my) winter-spring!! i've work in the states, which i'm thrilled abt. it also means i am tracking down artists who refuse to concert in aus (hozier for the love of god) and trying to sneak them in as well.

np tags (apologies if you've already been tagged): @fairylittlebitch @alltoounwellll @the-moon-says-hi @just--vi @whyistarchaser @bellaxisworld @feminist-cult-following @none-of-it-was-accidental @svnflowermoon + ofc anybody else who wants to. tag me. let me know you all.

[casterwolflena]

Off the Beatle Track: The Early Beatles

On March 22nd, 1963, the Beatles released their first British album: Please Please Me. Exactly two years later, Capitol released its own version, The Early Beatles. As mentioned earlier, the 14 songs that made up PPM were originally released on Vee-Jay, a small-time record label based in Chicago. However, due to various legal disasters, Vee-Jay lost the license to those 14 songs in October 1964,…

[midchelle]

I was looking through my drafts and found this compilation of quotes I put together of Beatle girls talking about other Beatle girls. It's probably not totally comprehensive, but I thought some people might find it interesting.

Cyn + Mo

Far from being a shy little thing, Maureen was talkative, full of laughter and great fun: we all liked her enormously and thought she was good for Ringo.

All of the Beatles’ women got on with each other, but Maureen, who was one of the most down-to-earth, honest people I ever knew, became my closest friend. After their son Zak was born in September, seven months after the wedding, she and I used to go up to Knightsbridge to shop. Anthony would drop us off and we’d do the rounds of Harrods, Harvey Nichols and the designer shops in between, then stop for lunch in a smart little bistro. We’d buy cute little outfits for our sons and we were always on the lookout for something different or special for the men. We loved to surprise them with a psychedelic shirt, a piece of ethnic jewellery, or I would buy John a new plectrum for his guitar. John always loved prezzies, as he called them. No matter how small they were, he’d be delighted and I loved looking for things to surprise him. Much as Maureen and I enjoyed our outings, she always made sure she was at home for Ringo when he came in. Such was her devotion to him that she would stay up sometimes until four in the morning to greet him with a home-cooked meal. She wanted him to feel loved and cared for and, like me, she had been brought up in a family where women did the caring and nurturing while men provided. We often went over to their house and hung out with them, it was always party time at the Starkeys’. Ringo was gregarious and fun-loving, a clown and a joker with an infectious laugh. Together, he and Maureen made an irresistible double act, both extrovert and uninhibited. Ringo had installed a replica pub in their front room, which he called the Flying Cow. It had a counter and till, tankards, mirrored walls and even a pool table. He’d nip behind the bar to serve us all drinks, while Maureen supplied us with endless plates of food. It was a cosy, comfortable house with what felt like the ultimate luxury at the time: a TV – usually switched on – in every room. They had large grounds, in which Ringo had built in a go-kart track. He and John would race the go-karts or play pool while Maureen and I chatted over a cup of tea or took Zak and Julian for a walk. 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. Innovative, perhaps, but not the most riveting entertainment.

Cynthia Lennon, John

Cyn + Jane

Jane was different from the girls Paul had been out with previously. The daughter of a psychiatrist father and a music-teacher mother, she was highly intelligent and cultured. She had a strong inner confidence, with a maturity and grace way beyond her years.

Paul stayed for a while. He told me that John was bringing Yoko to recording sessions, which he, George and Ringo hated. Paul had broken up with Jane Asher a couple of weeks after John had left me. I was sorry because I’d really liked Jane.

Cynthia Lennon, John

Cyn + Pattie

I liked Cynthia, but of all the Beatle wives and girlfriends I found her the most difficult to make friends with. She and I came from such different backgrounds; she had no career, she was a young mother, and we had no point of reference apart from our attachment to a Beatle. She wasn’t like my friends, who enjoyed a giggle and some fun: she was rather serious, and often, I thought, behaved more like John’s mother than his wife. I tended to leave her to her own devices but invited her to join me for shopping. I think she felt a bit out of her depth in the smart, sophisticated circles in which the Beatles were now moving in London. And I don’t think it helped that John thought I looked like Brigitte Bardot, or that I got on so well with him. There was a rumor—I don’t know where it came from—that John and I had an affair, and I suppose Cynthia may have believed there was something in it. It was completely untrue: we never had an affair. I wouldn’t have dreamed of it and neither, I am sure, would John.

Pattie Boyd, Wonderful Tonight: George Harrison, Eric Clapton, and Me 

Meanwhile George, who had just turned twenty-one, had met a young model called Patti Boyd and fallen in love. Pattie had been given a part in A Hard Day's Night, playing a schoolgirl, because she had appeared in a successful crisps advertisement -- she was known as the Smith's Crisps girl. She was blonde, beautiful, and a sophisticated Londoner, like Jane Asher. But, like the rest of us Beatle girls, she was friendly, too, and easy to get on with.

Patti and I were becoming close friends. I admired her gorgeous figure and perfect fashion sense, and I think she enjoyed the company of someone who’d been with the Beatles from the beginning and knew the ropes.

Cynthia Lennon, John

"George has a lot with the others that I can never know about. Nobody, not even the wives, can break through it or even comprehend it. It did used to hurt me at first, as I slowly began to learn there was a part I could never be part of. Cyn talked to me about it."

[Pattie speaking] "It's not so bad these days, but it happens. Cyn was attacked not long ago in the street. Some girl kicked her in the legs and said she had to leave John alone, or else. Isn't it amazing, after all the years that John and Cyn have been married?"

[Pattie speaking] "Some people do understand. If they've been developing a lot themselves, growing up more, they know what it's all about. Cyn was very helpful at first, telling me what to do. That was when we thought of the boutique."

Cyn now and again would like to try something new, to have a job, perhaps use her art-college training in some way. She and Pattie, George's wife, did discuss the idea once of opening a boutique together in Esher, but it never came to anything.

Hunter Davies, The Beatles

Mo + Jane

I got to know Jane as well during that trip. While Paul and Richy were off horsing around, Jane and I chatted quite a bit. She’s such an intelligent person and I thought them quite an odd couple at first. Paul is such an assertive fellow (you know) he knows what he wants and Jane is that way too. I often wondered to meself how they ever stayed together as long as they did (you know). 

Maureen interviewed by Maurice Devereux for Le Chroniqueur (July 1988)

Mo + Pattie

Again, she and I had little in common but she was jolly and friendly, more relaxed than Cynthia. We got on but I felt there was definitely a north-south divide among the wives and girlfriends. And I had the definite impression that the girls from the north felt they had a prior claim to “the boys.”

The final straw was his affair with Maureen Starr, Ringo’s wife. She was the last person I would have expected to stab me in the back, but she did.

Pattie Boyd, Wonderful Tonight: George Harrison, Eric Clapton, and Me 

Pattie + Jane

Jane Asher was the girlfriend with whom I felt most at home, but because we both had heavy work commitments she was also the one I saw least. She came from a professional family, had grown up in London and, like me, had been privately educated. The family lived in Wimpole Street; her father was a psychiatrist and her mother a music teacher—her brother Peter became half of the pop duo Peter and Gordon. She was three years younger than me but we got on well and I’ve always been pleased to see her whenever we’ve met.

Pattie Boyd, Wonderful Tonight: George Harrison, Eric Clapton, and Me 

BONUS: Mo on Linda + Yoko

I always thought [Yoko] strange. I mean she would always interrupt the lads when they were working or do strange things without any reason whatsoever. I was there when John brought the bed, and said something about wanting Yoko to be there. I asked Richy about this and he just shook his head in disbelief. I often wondered how they all put up with her. Even Richy would come home and tell me all these strange stories about her. He once told me about her moaning into John’s microphone while they were recording a song and how the two of them would make-out during takes. I always avoided her in the studio for those reasons. She was just too strange for me.

Q: What was it like to sit in the studio with John, Paul and George? A: It was like watching a couple of actors rehearsing a scene in a movie (laughs). I would sit there with a cup of coffee in my hand and watch them for a while or maybe gossip with Linda [McCartney] or Mal [Evans]. When I did watch them, I always thought to meself, so this is what he’s been doing for the last six years! (laughs) I sometimes felt like a fly on the wall, but I knew that I had to be the luckiest fly in the world. Pattie [Harrison] would sometimes be there, but she would always leave early.

Maureen interviewed by Maurice Devereux for Le Chroniqueur (July 1988)

Can't really find any proper quotes from Pattie about Yoko or Linda. She mentions both in her book without much judgment and there are pictures of her with both of them throughout the years so they probably got on okay. I don't think Jane has ever been in the same room as either Linda or Yoko. Same with Cyn and Linda. Cyn's thoughts on Yoko are probably well-established at this point.

[menlove]

[image id: an ask from @harbingerofskulls that reads: "im gonna b real i only knew the jerking off i would love to hear you elaborate more if you want to go on the whole situation" /end id]

answering here so i can save as a draft without risking the ask disappearing bc tumblr's been doing that lately but

oh god </3 for everyone else- it's talking about this post. sooo i'm gonna go through each one bc i've been feeling insane for several weeks. i'll do my best to cite my sources lmao

i don't know (johnny johnny)

this is referring to this unreleased VERY early beatles track from 1960. the audio quality is absolute shit & as such unfortunately people love to put words to it that don't make much sense in either direction (i.e a lot of mclennon fans want to hear "you're in love with me" and a lot of people that hate mclennon will just make up the weirdest lyrics that make 0 sense so it's Not Gay). some of the lyrics that ARE clear make it obvious this song is about the two of them running away together- at one point i'm fairly certain paul says "how am i gonna tell my father that we're leaving town?" probably referring to them leaving to hamburg. which would be fine but some of the other lyrics areeeee..... very..... Hm. like multiple times paul refers to john as "my boy" and there's bits of them talking about not knowing what to tell their friends & wanting to just run off together alone. if i were the other members of the band having to record this i would have killed them with hammers <3 also the entire end is just paul going "oh johnny" like 1 million times. okay. sure. also since the lyrics ARE so garbled i mean i guess people could be right about it saying "how am i gonna tell my father you're in love with me" but i just don't hear it. still, a very gay song about running off together and getting away from everything and everyone, complete with moaning the other's name </3

2. paris

this one is a huge part of McLennon Fandom Lore lmao but for good reason. not citing sources on all this bc it's one of those that's just Fact & can be found in like any beatles biography or thebeatlesbible.com (my savior) but. for john's 21st birthday, he got 100 pounds from a rich relative. instead of taking his girlfriend or any of his other friends, he decided to use the money to take paul to spain. but they stopped in paris on the way and just decided to stay there. which i mean like. taking your best friend over your girlfriend to the city of love is a little weird but it's not THAT weird. it's everything else that makes people want to chew glass about it. including some of the other things on this list. like this audio of john just goofing around singing about paris and paul, with such hits as "my cheri, my pau pau my pau paul." which is :| okay best friend. and paul has this picture hung up in his house that he took of john sleeping in paris. okay. sure. why not. (although ig there's some doubt about if the photo is from paris? either way it's a picture paul took and has framed in his house which is incriminating enough my man). also NOT in the original post but may pang, a woman john had a brief affair with in the 70s, wrote a book called loving john. in it, there's this quote:

After a late lunch, Linda launched into a long paean to the joys of living in England. When she was finished, she turned to John and said, “Don’t you miss England?”

“Frankly,” John replied, “I miss Paris.”

okay! also in an interview once he said:

The thing was all the kissing and the holding that was going on in Paris. And it was so romantic, just to be there and see them, even though I was twenty-one and sort of not romantic. But I really loved it, the way the people would just stand under a tree kissing; and they weren’t mauling at each other, they were just kissing.

(interview with david scheff for playboy in september 1980)

3. if i fell

this one i already made an insane post on that started my spiral into posting about the beatles publicly </3 but, essentially, the song "if i fell" by john is..... well it's most likely about paul. he said it wasn't about his wife but that it was auto-biographical and he never really had any public affairs that weren't flings, certainly not a lover. but most damning is he wrote the complete lyrics for the first time on a valentine's day card addressed "to paul with love" with some hearts and arrows pointing to where the lyrics were written. absolutely insane. made me insane.

4. oh! darling

rawest paul song of all time if i do say so myself lmao. but it's just.... Highly Suspicious, that's what it is. a Lot of beatles fans/historians will admit this song is most likely about john but they won't admit that it's fucking romantic if it is. like.

like that is so blatantly romantic idk what to say other than that. also, in the official recording on abbey road, there's Several points where paul says "darling" that sound more like he's saying "johnny" which is what he called him. people brush it off by saying it's his accent, but there's a very clear difference between when he's saying "darling" and when he's saying "johnny". i mean the Lore behind this is that it was written right when things were splitting up between them (& the rest of the band) so it makes sense and it's why most people are willing to accept it's about john. it's just insane to me that they'll accept it's about john without considering the implications of that.

5. the real life demo

this one made me want to light myself on fire i won't lie to you. but here it is! john had a song called "real love" and this is a very early demo of it. but instead of the lyrics that came to actually be in the song (which are thought to be about yoko but let's not get into the fact that it was on a tape labeled "for paul" but whatever), it includes john fucking crying as he sings saying:

"was i just dreaming or was it only yesterday? i used to hold you in my arms. and now a baby and another on the way... la la la la farm..."

which can quite literally be about no one else but paul, as this demo was recorded when he'd just had two children with his wife linda and linda was pregnant with their third child. they'd moved to a farm in scotland. hearing this audio clip did genuinely make me want to lie down in the dirt for a week. also "i used to hold you in my arms" just... yeah. god. when people think it was unrequited idk what to say, really.

6. If Paul Were A Woman-

shoving these two together but. in april of 85, paul said in an interview about john and yoko's relationship:

"I mean, I couldn’t stand in the way of someone who’d fallen in love. You can’t say, 'Who’s this?' You can’t really do that. If I was a girl, maybe I could go out and…"

okay bestie <3 and what would make your relationship different if you were a woman? interesting! and yoko had something similar to say. in this audio, she says:

"I’m sure that if he had been a woman or something, he would have been a great threat – because there’s something definitely very strong between John and Paul."

just reminds me of being a kid and telling my best friends "if i were a boy i'd date you" lol. incredible. does anyone here know about bisexuality.

7. stuart!

not much to say here except that john had a best friend, stu sutcliffe, who died young & before that had been the bassist in the band. paul fucking hated him sooo much oh he SEETHED. a lot has been written on that relationship but it was.... very interesting to say the least. it could have just been about the band, or just jealousy over john's friendship, but take that with a lot of john biographers suspecting john had feelings/even a sexual relationship with stuart and it paints a very Interesting picture to say the least

8. john's bisexuality

here's a compilation of quotes about it, but john was more than likely bisexual. which has nothing to do w paul, really, but more to do against people that like to claim they were both Heterosexual Men. although an interesting quote in this compilation is him saying he's "had paul" lmfao

9. paul's post-beatles work

there's just.... there is so so so much here i don't even know where to begin. @ringompreg has a good compilation of paul songs here. a lot of them do take a bit of Lore but like..... it comes down to the fact that both him and john have/had admitted many times to using their lyrics during The Breakup Years to talk to/reference each other and sooooo many of these lyrics are insanely blatant. the two i mentioned were tug of war and let me roll it, both of which are acknowledged to be about john by most people WITH NO ONE BOTHERING TO ACKNOWLEDGE THE IMPLICATIONS OF THAT which..... tug of war has this:

we could stand on top of the mountain with our flag unfurled? dancing to a beat played on a different drum? this is what gaylors think gaylor conspiracy is but paul mccartney is really out here saying this shit.

and let me roll it is so fucking blatantly romantic but every reviewer is like haha! what a cool song that's "making fun" of john and clearly in his style! like are straight people stupid genuinely. anyway:

bonus to that but about JOHN'S solo work :)))))) he wrote a song called "watching the wheels" and when you consider he very much responded to MANY of paul's solo stuff it's :)

which as a response to let me roll it would just be... so devestating but it may be a stretch idk if i'm onto anything there it's just worth Mentioning

and there's a lot of others, a lot of them in that post up there. like far too many where paul mentions falling in love with a friend like Alright.

10. paul's first lsd trip with john/"i know" "i know"

this one is less blatantly romantic but it is just insane. here's an article. and a quote from george martin about it. the first time paul tripped on acid w john was bc john accidentally took some and he took him home & then took acid w him bc he didn't want john to be alone on the trip :( but, notably:

"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," the singer recalled, "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. It was a very freaky experience and I was totally blown away."

he also apparently saw john as the, and i quote, "emperor of eternity" during this trip??????? okay

SOMEWHERE i can't find it rn and i'm getting lazy but somewhere they (i think paul?) talk about the fact that they used to just stare into each other's eyes and then say "i know" "i know" which. considering john's song "i know (i know)" makes me crazy

11. in my life/i will

these are really just some devastating songs with lyrics that make you really raise your eyebrows. for in my life, written by john, it's just an incredibly romantic & sweet song that is again, not about his wife. given that the lennon estate is still out here posting pictures of paul to those lyrics i have to say it's a liiiiittle suspicious. and i will is...... it's one that paul insists is not about his girlfriend at the time, jane asher. and when you look at the lyrics vs how him and john met.... like. the song goes:

and the story of how they met was that paul saw john repeatedly before they ever met, when he didn't know who john was other than that he thought he looked cool & admired his sideburns (lmfao). and when they did finally meet, it was when john was singing at a garden fete (party) and paul was in the crowd just Mesmerized. so. well. you can see.... you can see how fitting that is. makes me crazy makes me want to chew glass actually

12. "we were each other's intimates" and other insane quotes

"we were each other's intimates" is a paul quote about john which is just insane but that's not even the tip of the iceberg. here's a ton of quote compilations.

13. "literally everything else"/honorable mentions

some honorable mentions go out to: john going on stage w elton john & playing i saw her standing there and introducing it as "a song by an estranged fiance of mine" okay! the "just like starting over" demos. okay! which isn't even to MENTION the fact that paul locked himself away in the studio listening to "just like starting over" on repeat for DAYS after john died like???? john saying repeatedly that he considered paul & yoko to be his two major partners in life including in an interview the literal day he died. a whole ass rpf movie where they kiss & talk like they're ex-lovers and dance in central park (two of us) made by the same dude that made the let it be movie like. he knew them personally? he worked with them closely? and the only thing paul had to say about it was just essentially that it was what he wished would've happened like???????? i can't find a super reliable source for this so take it w a grain of salt, but apparently paul referred to mclennon fanfiction as "beautiful stories" and doesn't mind them being written. paul also had a cat that had kittens & he named two of the kittens pyramus and thisbe after fictional lovers he and john played and he gave pyramus (the character paul played) to john :|

and literally so much else like all of this and it's not even all of it. it's not even close to all of it. i didn't even get to talk about the way in "get back" the documentary, paul started talking about john leaving the band for yoko and how john would choose her over them and then he got teary eyed, started choke laughing, and then started singing "build me up buttercup" before looking at the cameras and stopping. what the FUCK was that about! IT'S NOT EVEN GETTING INTO THE SONG "TWO OF US" THAT'S SO OBVIOUSLY ABOUT JOHN THAT IT HURTS. it's. it's not even scratching the surface. they were just genuinely insane about each other.

[loserboyfriendrjl]

Lily stopped abruptly in her tracks, seeing Sirius Black in The Common Room, legs put up on the coffee table, a book in his hands.

“Why are you here?” She demanded, feeling quite underdressed in her pyjama top and tartan pajama pants, despite the fact that he, too, was wearing just a scruffy Beatles shirt and shorts.

“I couldn’t sleep,” He answered, not peeling his eyes off the book. “And just as a piece of information, you don’t own the castle; I can be wherever I want, whenever I want.”

“It’s past curfew.”

“Then you’ll have to dock points from yourself too, Perfect Prefect.”

Lily scoffed. “You’re exasperating. What are you reading?” She asked, sitting down on the armrest opposite him, her feet dangling off.

“Animal farm by George Orwell.” He snorted at her surprised expression. “Are you surprised I read Muggle books, or that I read?”

“I’m surprised you read classical Muggle books,” She answered. “I know you read; I can tell that by your general vocabulary, especially in class. It’s pretty obvious you’re an intelligent person,” She chuckled, “as much as I’d like to deny it sometimes.”

“Why, thank you,” Black grinned, leaning back against the other armrest to face her. “You’re not too bad yourself; I like debating with you in class.”

“So,” She trailed off, then kicked her feet up on the soft cushion seat of the couch. “Tell me your opinion about the book. It was one of my favourites as a child, along with Wuthering Heights. Have you read that one?”

He nodded. “It’s satirical; the pigs represent politicians. They bend the rules to their own liking and sure, in theory they’re all equal, but pigs are, ah, more equal than the rest of them. And they run over an undereducated population, which makes up for a quite big part of society as a whole, rather than having an individualistic, educated or not, mindset, because society is built on the people, not on just one person. They hide their extravagant lifestyle; well, extravagant compared to the underclassmen’s, which is, again, the typical behaviour of this certain group of individuals.” He rubbed his eyes tiredly. “I’d just finished it, when you came in. It was an interesting book, very insightful; but then again, I’ve also read nineteen eighty-four and although that, too, is an exaggeration, it was a spellbinding read.”

Lily bit her cheek. “Let me know if you have any more Muggle book recommendations. I have a few in my dorm that maybe you haven’t read yet.” And with saying that, she got off the couch and made her way towards the girls’ dormitories, leaving Sirius Black behind, on the couch.

[lafrexniere]

Then There was Music - CL16

Note: I watched La La Land last night so that's where this is coming from 😄 I also really love that he plays piano so much and wanted to do something with that

A weekend without a race was an opportunity for you to get some work done, but this week after Charles winning in Monza all you wanted was time with him. You had been taking time during the week to get as much recording and editing done as you could before publishing tracks. You were an independent artist, recording all your own music and vocals, with an occasional special feature of your love playing piano. 

Music was your common ground when you met Charles, he discovered you singing at a bar and after that, the rest was history, now here you were three years later, traveling weekend after weekend with this guy who said you were beautiful just like your singing voice that made you fall instantly for him. He loved hearing you sing, filling the empty space in your home, he would come to every gig you booked, and be at every studio session where you had other artists with you, he was your biggest supporter and you were his. 

You two were enjoying the fresh air blowing in through the windows, lounging on your sofa. You began to whistle a tune you both loved and knew well. The song you were singing the first time you met Charles. A love song, it had become your song, everytime you heard it all he wanted to do was pull you close and sway. He grinned at you and pressed a kiss to your cheek before standing up and sitting down at the piano getting ready to play along to your voice. You hadn’t noticed he had his phone propped up on one end of the piano recording the music you were about to make together. He began to play the introduction before you sang. You swayed sitting next to him on the bench enjoying the wonderful moment. You took a breath before the familiar melody began to flow out of your mouth.

“There were bells,” you began, “on a hill,” you continued gazing effortlessly into his eyes as he played so gracefully.

“But I never heard them ringing,” you sang with passion and affectionately as you stood up and moved behind him.

“No I never heard them at all, till there was you,” you wrapped your arms around his neck leaning your head against his as he played. 

“There were birds,” he sang along with you as you began the second verse, you let him continue and fell harder with each word that came from his mouth.

“In the sky, but I never saw them winging,” he closed his eyes, “No I never saw them at all, Till there was you,” you kissed his cheek before singing again.

“Then there was music, and wonderful roses,” you jokingly pointed at the vase of roses resting on the counter. You two continued through the rest of the song smiling, swaying, letting the moment take you away. You had finished and noticed his phone, you looked at the camera before grabbing his face and kissing him passionately. He tapped his phone off as you moved onto his lap. He scooted the bench out from underneath him carrying you as you wrapped your arms around him. He spun you around smiling before putting you down.

“Come on let’s do another one, it will be fun,” he smiled twirling you with his arm. The love he felt for you was constantly reminded in moments like these. 

“No wait, let’s listen to our masterpiece,” he said dipping you in his arms.

“Charles,” you laughed as he pulled you back up to him, “we can do another one,” you pecked his lips before making your way back over to the piano. 

You two continued singing through all your favorite songs, at one point you grabbed your guitar and began playing along with him. You felt so lucky in that moment to have Charles, someone who you could spend this kind of time with, sharing your passion and interest. He was just so happy when you sang or played music for him, it made him show a side only you got to see of him, it was your thing and you wouldn’t trade it for anything else. 

You two had spent hours enjoying music whether you were playing it or dancing, you were in your own little world of love. Eventually getting tired you both found your way back to the couch.

“I love when we do that,” you smiled leaning on his shoulder as his arm was wrapped around you.

“Me too, you truly are wonderful Y/N,” he said kissing the top of your head. You two sat in silence before you both read each other’s minds and began humming the tune again peacefully, reminiscing on the moments you had just shared. You watched the videos he had taken of the two of you, immediately sending them to yourself to cherish forever and remember that was your motivation to continue pushing in your career.

[all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney]

We've Got Tonight (Paul McCartney x Starr!Female!Reader)

Find Part Two Here

A/N: WOW, is all I can say. The alarming support from those of you reading my work is driving me to write more than EVER right now! I cannot say thank you enough, y'all. Your notes and comments inspire me, so please keep it up if you wanna read more from me!

I'm about to bless y'all with some McBeardy angst, so I hope you all enjoy!!

Also, this fic was inspired by Bob Seger's We've Got Tonight, so I highly recommend listening to the song before and/or after reading this one to get into the vibe of it.

Summary: Paul is in his lonesome after a break up. So are you. You decide to keep each other company.

WARNINGS: ANGST, but it gets sweet in the end. Mentions of cheating, low self esteem. Suggestive actions, mentions/insinuation of sex, but no smut (that'll be saved for a bonus part 2 if anyone's interested in that.)

There is mention of the Beatles' extended family, so if I have any incorrect info in here, I apologize in advance; I didn't want this to become too much of a history lesson.

Also, like my other fics, this one is a NOVEL, so please read when you have a good half hour+ of free time :)

I don't wanna rate this a T, but there is no smut in this, so please just be aware that there is sex mentioned/insinuated, so PLEASE just read at your own discretion. But most of all, enjoy!

Paul was sitting on the sofa in the den, alone with the lights out. He was staring out the window at the night in silence as he sucked down another cigarette and sipped at another glass of scotch.

It was late enough that the world around him was dead sleep, yet he was wide awake, and alone with his thoughts.

He broke it off with Linda. She was a sweet girl, and no one was really quite sure why things ended between them, but they all knew it was a mutual agreement.

Paul really hadn't been taking it well, though. He hadn't been sleeping right for almost a month, and he stared drinking a little more. He didn't want anyone really knowing, which is why he did it in his lonesome.

He wasn't necessarily by himself, because the rest of the Beatles were upstairs in their collective rooms asleep; but what made him feel alone was that alongside the bandmates in their rooms were their families and wives. And Paul just didn't have that.

Usually he would have been rather vocal over something that bothered him so much, but the band felt like recently they'd been clashing, so he wasn't wanting to bother them with something like that.

While Paul finished the final puff of his cigarette and put out the butt in the ashtray on the coffee table, his head snapped to the entrance of the den, where he caught sight of a silhouette in the threshold.

You stopped in your tracks when Paul made eye contact with you. You supposed he'd heard your footsteps.

From what you could tell from the light of the moon shining in through the window, Paul seemed worn out. He rubbed the side of his face with his free hand before wordlessly nodding to you in acknowledgement.

"... I'm sorry to intrude. I didn't know anyone was still awake. I was just needing a drink," you explained quietly. You'd met Paul a few times here and there-- you had to, with Ringo-- or Rich-- your brother, being one of his bandmates and all.

Paul was always kind when you interacted with each other, but you could definitely tell something was a little off about his behaviour this time around.

Rich did mention Paul's break-up to you briefly, but you were going through your own separation, so you were in your own head with your own problems. That's why Rich offered to bring you along with him, Maureen, Zak, and Jason on this trip with the rest of the guys and their families, so you could get away from thinking about your ex.

Unfortunately, the unfamiliar space put you in the same position as Paul; wide awake, in the middle of the night, with a racing mind.

"'S alright," he sighed before drinking the rest of the scotch in his glass and raising to his feet. You watched him move around the room to the alcohol cabinet right outside the kitchen.

He refilled his glass right to the top before wordlessly grabbing a second glass out, tossing in a few ice cubes, and filling it three quarters of the way before sliding it over to you.

Your eyes widened a little, considering you'd actually come down for some water, but maybe this was a sign you were going to want something stronger.

"... Should've asked you if you even like this stuff," Paul stated apologetically when he realized how gentlemanly he was not being. You smiled sadly at him, but picked up the glass anyways.

He matched his glass to the same level as yours before you both gently tapped them together. The sound of the glass chimed for a moment before you and Paul raised the drinks to your lips.

The scotch was harsh, and you surely made an unflattering face as you took a sip, but Paul didn't say anything to you, as he was too busy staring at the ice swirling around in his own glass.

"... What're you doing up so late, if you don't mind me asking?" You asked after a moment of silence, and Paul's big brown eyes met yours for another quiet second as he thought about what to respond with.

He pushed his tongue into his cheek before shrugging and mumbling into his glass, "thinking."

After taking another sip of his drink and staring off into space for a moment or two, he bit his lip, gesturing over to you with his glass.

"And you?" You shook your head, realizing it was your turn to scrounge up an excuse for being wide awake at such an absurd time.

"Can't sleep," you lied.

Paul frowned, motioning you to the sofa he was just sitting on to invite you to sit for a while. After a moment of pondering whether you should really go back to your room, you made up your mind and headed to the sofa, Paul following suit.

There was just something about the way his dark eyes gazed into yours, and behind them was this sadness you just couldn't ignore.

Before he took a seat, you were able to get another good look at him. He was in black jeans, and a green sweater; his day-clothes completely contrasting your pyjama set. He'd grown his hair out since you saw him last, and now he was sporting a full beard.

You always thought he was a good looking guy, but now, without being blinded by any bias, there was really no denying how handsome Paul had become since you seen him last.

In fact, it felt like every time you ended up seeing him next, he always seemed to look better and better, and you weren't quite sure how that was possible.

Paul took the seat right next to you, and he set his drink down on the coffee table, clasping his hands together, elbows on the thighs, and hanging his head.

"To be honest with you... I went through a separation about a month ago. And I don't seem to be handling it well." He finally sighed, turning his head so he was looking at you again. He unclasped his hands and ran his fingers through his beard a few times.

"I'm a romantic, y'know, and I'm not a fan of being so lonely." You nodded your head a little at his words. What was tough was that you didn't have anything encouraging to say to him because you were in the same boat.

Paul swallowed when you remained silent, and then he cleared his throat. He scratched the back of his head nervously as he leaned back into the sofa.

"I'm sorry, I know it's late, and you're probably just wanting to head to bed." He gave a little head nod of understanding as he rubbed his eye with his finger. "You're not here to talk to me about my problems."

It was your turn to set your drink down on the table, turning your attention to him again.

"Well... will that help make you feel better, perhaps?" you watched Paul's eyes meet yours again, and he pressed his lips together tightly in thought.

"... I don't know if there is really much to say," he said after a moment, reaching for his glass again.

"Thank you, though. Was very kind of you to offer somethin' like that."

After he took another sip of his drink, he gestured to you again with his glass.

"... Ringo sort of mentioned you were going through a separation too... You doin' okay?" Paul tried his best to be as inclusive as possible, but it was all rough stuff to talk about, so he treaded carefully.

"I mean..." you trailed off for a moment before responding with a simple, "I'm angry, above all else."

You were honestly taken aback by Paul's question. Rich wasn't necessarily the greatest person to receive comforting advice from, especially when it came to this separation, since he thought so highly of your ex, but you perhaps weren't telling him the whole truth.

But you were definitely surprised he even mentioned your pain to anyone else, let alone his bandmates.

"Kept a lot of heavy things to myself for a long time, it just became exhausting." Now it was your turn to reach for your scotch, still cringing at its strength as you took a generous mouthful.

Paul waited a beat before asking, "would talking about it with me maybe make you feel better?"

"... you really care to know that stuff?" You asked gently for clarification. As mentioned, you and Paul weren't close, you could probably count on one hand the amount of times you met him prior to this moment...

And this was heavy stuff you were seemingly about to share, and you really wanted to make sure he was okay with that.

Paul nodded his head without hesitation, and offered, "'s the least I can do for you for keeping me company so late."

You sighed a deep breath, and took a few more sips from your glass before putting it back down, curling your legs up to your chest, and began.

You told Paul about your ex. You told him about how you were with him for five years, and watched him slowly fall out of love with you, sleep around, and how you struggled with self-image and self-worth for a long time.

You also mentioned how you were the one to leave, but he had no idea you had any strength to do so, so he tried for a long while to guilt you into going back to him.

The difficult things to talk about made you a little more emotional, so you breathed your way through it slowly as to not cry. The drink Paul poured for you was helping you relax at least.

Paul was more than patient with you, and you were grateful for that. At one point during the lengthy conversation, he lit another cigarette, and began offering you drags throughout your story to calm your nerves.

You took those offers graciously, and thankfully.

"... I don't know. I just lay awake every night, wondering if there was something I could have done different so he didn't do what he did."

You were staring out the window with Paul now, taking in just how many stars you could actually see from the den. He took his final puffs of his smoke, the thin silver waves swirling in the air above the both of your heads.

"Sounds like he didn't cherish you enough when you were around," Paul debated gently, shaking his head and putting out his cigarette end in the ashtray next to the others. He picked up his scotch again before mumbling against the rim,

"He's not worth it."

You pulled yourself from the trance of the tiny lights outside to wipe remnants of silent, salty tears off your cheeks, and you used that moment to glance over at Paul, whose nose was still deep in the glass. When he pulled the drink away from his mouth and swallowed, you parted your lips to speak.

"... was Linda worth it?" You didn't mean it in a rude way, but you hadn't met her personally, and you wanted to pry Paul just a tiny bit.

He smiled, but it was bitter. You figured you struck a nerve, and before you could apologize for what you said, he answered simply, with tears glossing his own eyes,

"Yes. She was."

You tilted your head a little and frowned, trying to understand what drove them apart.

"It was just never the right timing. She was ready for things I wasn't in the beginning, and then down the road, when I was seemingly ready for those things, she wasn't. And I didn't want her wasting her time on a life she didn't wanna live, y'know?"

"So she's the one that got away," you mused gently.

"Indeed, she was." Paul nodded a little before finishing the rest of his scotch in his glass, leaning back again, and cradling his head in his hand as he looked at you for another quiet moment, resting his glass in-hand on his thigh.

"... I'm not a bad person, am I?" Those watery eyes never disappeared, and you had to break his sad gaze, opting to reach out and rub his shoulder comfortingly.

"Hey, no. Wasting your time, or her time, like the way my ex did to me, would have made you a bad person, Paul. Saying good bye was the right thing to do."

"Well, I wish that made me feel better," he mumbled, dropping his own gaze to the space between the both of you. He pushed a stray tear away before he thought you could see it, and then scratched at his beard again. You guessed that must have been a habit of his out of stress.

"Something about her made me feel like she was the one. Like we were meant to share the same story; but we always seemed to be on a different chapter,"

He sniffled, but only once. "That being said, was I perhaps too lovestruck in the end to want to believe that her future was meant to be shared with someone else?"

His voice carried so much sorrow, and you knew he needed some kind of advice. It took you a moment or so to find the right words to say to him.

"... Knowing my ex wasn't right for me and the reality of me leaving doesn't make me feel any better. At all." You offered to Paul, before adding,

"... But why should the expectations of those we chose to take out of our life dictate the way we behave today?"

The words that came out of your mouth were surprisingly wise, and you watched Paul's eyebrows knit together as he absorbed what you said.

He focused his sight to you again, a more determined look on his face. Paul knew you were absolutely right. He was a charmer; romancing people was his thing.

There was no denying Linda was special, but when he realized he really had no commitment in romancing her anymore, he finally understood that it was his own thoughts holding him back.

Even if it took him a little longer than expected, he knew you were right. He would recover from this.

"... I think you just opened my eyes and made me realize something... Thank you, y/n, really." He reached up with his free hand after a second, fingers grazing your own hand still on his arm in comfort, showing you his gratitude for your words of advice.

You smiled a little, glad you were able to help him somewhat through his times of trouble as you pulled your hand away.

Paul stood up again, retrieving his empty glass from the coffee table before facing you fully, a more genuine smile beginning to pull on the corners of his mouth, but it was still rather sad.

"I'm grabbing a refill, you too?"

Your sight drifted to your near-empty glass on the table.

Why let tonight go to waste? End so soon?

"Please," you asked, grabbing the glass yourself, but Paul began to tut at you as he grabbed the glass from your fingers.

"Please, I'll get it for you," he insisted, and you watched his slender figure move around the couch to head for the alcohol cabinet another time. He filled them only halfway this time, and on the way back he made a brief stop at the record player near the entrance of the den.

Soft classical music rang out quietly from the player once Paul dropped the needle down onto the vinyl, and he returned to his spot next to you with your two drinks. You thanked him quietly as he passed the glass over to you, and he leaned in a little, raising his drink between the two of you.

"Hello to... new beginnings," he began slowly.

"And Goodbye to false finales," you finished, your glasses tapping together again before you took yet another sip of the drink.

Paul matched your movements, his eyes watching you, even when you turned away to gaze longingly out the window for a moment, basking in the feeling of the gentle music flirting with your ears.

Sure, you and Paul could have went on for the rest of the night discussing your heartbreak, but you decided to drive the conversation elsewhere.

You sighted back to him after a while, his sight unwavering from you. Your eyes locked for just a beat before you decided aloud with a gentle nod,

"... you know, that beard really suits you."

Paul's eyebrows shot up, and his face darkened a little as he bit his lips between his teeth almost nervously.

"... Think so?"

You'd never seen him lack so much confidence when given a compliment before, but instead of pitying him, you almost admired his innocence.

It sounded like he needed to hear a compliment like that.

"Yes," you laughed airily, raising your glass up for another drink. Paul couldn't bite back his smile anymore, so he copied you to mask his lips. You then gestured to your head with the point of your finger as you swallowed the alcohol back easier and easier each time.

"Your hair, too. I think it's a nice length."

Your kind words made Paul feel warm and fuzzy inside, and he placed his scotch back down on the table.

"Well, thanks, Love." He rubbed the back of his neck, and laughed weakly. "I call it my 'Don't View The Mirror For Three Weeks' look."

Paul paused in his moments of self-deprecation to realize he should have maybe complimented you back. He took a second to take another good look at you as he decided what to say, exactly.

"... Y'know, the last time I saw you was a few years ago, now."

You thought for a moment on that. It had been a while since you'd seen him last. You nodded your head as you recalled the day.

"You're right, it has been some time. Christmas, 1966." John and Cynthia had hosted this massive holiday dinner, and everyone's extended family was there.

You were single at the time, and spent dinner conversing with Paul's sister, Ruth, who was at least fifteen years younger than you. There was no introduction made by Paul, she just walked up, introduced herself to you, and made a friend by herself.

She went on and on about school, and music, and how the potatoes were her favourite part of dinner; and you paid attention to everything she had to say, responding with your own opinions and jokes to keep her feeling included amongst the adults at the table.

And Paul, who was seated next to Ruth, couldn't help but overhear your conversations throughout the evening, and he found it rather charming that you treated Ruth with such respect despite her young age.

And after dinner, you and Ruth danced together almost the whole night. She eventually went over to do a little dancing with Paul, and you watched as she bounced around excitedly with her brother, who, for just a moment, locked eyes with you across the sea of dancing guests.

You remember giving him a shy wave with a smile, and he sent a wink back your way before returning his attention to Ruth, spinning her around as she squealed happily.

"... I'm rather fond of that evening," Paul stated simply, the reality of your melancholy evening strongly contrasting with the memories of the wonderful night.

Now you and Paul weren't so young, and this time he was noticing the little lines under your eyes, indicating the dragging march of time slowly catching up to you both.

"And, even after all the years that have passed... you still look as lovely tonight as you did then."

You blushed at Paul's compliment, biting back a stupid grin as you repeated the words in your head.

"And I admire your ever-present kindness," he added on, and you knew he really just meant he showed appreciation for lending him an ear in his time of need.

"More people need to be like you."

"I don't know what to say," you said honestly, settling for a gentle "thank you," in the end. Paul just nodded, unsure if there was anything to say back.

"You know..." you paused for a second, watching as Paul went for another sip from his glass. "It was quite a shame we never got a dance in that night together, just you and me."

Paul was mid sip when you said that, so you continued on.

"The music was great, everyone was in high spirits, and I was maybe too shy to approach you myself and ask you to dance with me. So I guess that's on me." You scratched your elbow as you announced your rather dumb confession to him.

Paul, who was nearly done with his drink now, waited a moment or two in thought, before rising to his feet, and wandering back over to the record player, scotch still in hand.

You tried to watch his movements over your shoulder, but it was really dark. All you knew was that he was changing the music.

The classical tune cut, and the player began to drawl a much slower, more recent song; one you hadn't yet heard.

Paul turned on his heel as he reapproached the sofa, taking the final sip of scotch he had left in his glass before placing it back down on the table, and reaching his hand out for you to take.

"Well, let's not let this dance wait any longer, then, yeah?"

You froze for just a moment, Paul's outstretched hand hung in the air for a few seconds, and your sight moved up to his face, where you noticed his confidence falter just a little.

"Again, I know it's late, and I know your plans for the night surely didn't include me..."

"But, still, here we are." Your words came out almost effortlessly. You finished your scotch as well, and when you finally put your hand in Paul's, he squeezed your fingers gently, that warm upturn finally returning to his lips.

He guided you slowly over to the windows so you weren't in so much darkness, the moonlight still shining just enough for you both to see one another; and when Paul decided he could see your face much better, he let his other hand drop to your waist, watching as your own hand rested on his forearm.

You both shifted from side to side to the beat of the music, and you stared absentmindedly at the small space between you both.

"... You okay?" He asked you quietly after a minute, and you looked up at him, cheeks reddening as you realized you could feel his breath fanning your face.

"I've realized just how long it's been since I last danced with someone like this," you mentioned sheepishly, and a little smirk pulled at the corner of Paul's mouth.

"You don't have two left feet, y'know," his tone was almost teasing, and you smiled back, glad he wasn't feeling so much sadness anymore.

Paul then added with a little shrug, "'Sides, I wanted to dance with you that night, too. But I'm very glad I have the honours now."

Paul began turning with you in slow circles together as you continued to sway, and you took a moment to decide your next words carefully.

"... I suppose what I'm trying to say is that it's different when you're dancing with someone who actually wants to dance with you. It's just... it's really nice. So thank you, Paul."

Paul let go of your waist for a moment, and raised your clasped hands above your heads so you could twirl under his arm.  When you did just that, and faced him again, he pulled you just a little closer than you were before, your torsos flush as his hand snaked slowly to the small of your back.

"Thank you," he mumbled back, quietly. You weren't entirely sure what he was thanking you for this time, but you never asked.

Instead, you shut your eyes and opted to rest your head in the crook of his neck as the hand you had on Paul's bicep slid upward so your arm circled around his shoulders, in a half embrace.

And then you felt Paul tilt his own head down as if to envelope you more. You'd be lying if you said your heart didn't skip a beat when he did that.

Paul then began to hum the lyrics of the song, quietly, as if you were the only person in the world who was meant to hear it. Both yours and his eyes were closed now as you two basked in such a beautiful moment.

Two lonely people, finding comfort, and peace in each other.

Paul raised your clasped hands closer to him so he could rest them against his chest. You could actually feel his heartbeat pounding against the side of your hand, which made you a little nervous, but not in a bad way.

Paul stopped moving you around in circles, but the swaying never ceased. He lifted his cheek off your crown after a while, and you couldn't help but open your eyes and raise your gaze back to his face.

Paul smiled so sweetly at you, and you watched his eyes shift ever so slightly from left to right as he looked back into yours. His eyebrows then worried for just a moment before he opened his mouth slightly as if to say something, but no words came out.

Your shifting finally slowed to a standstill, and you opened your mouth this time to speak, yet you found yourself in Paul's very position.

There was nothing to say.

You watched as his gaze softened on you, and you weren't sure if it was the drinks, or the lack of sleep, but it was like you could almost feel the gravity around you manipulating you to move just a little closer to him.

And he must have felt it as well. Paul's head began to drop slowly, and it wasn't long before you met him in the middle, your lips coming together in a very soft, and very unplanned kiss. The both of you kept still, almost as if the smallest move would have frightened the other away.

You were both holding your breath as well, and Paul pulled away from the kiss first, arm still wrapped around your back, hand still clasped in yours.

He was staring at you in awe, as were you, eyes wide, and lips still slightly parted as you both processed what exactly just happened.

Paul still couldn't muster any words, nor could you, for that matter; but he could definitely read your gaze. Your eyes were almost begging him to do that again.

And that's exactly what happened; your lips came crashing into each other again after only another second.

You weren't stupid, and neither was he. You both already knew this night was going to become something else entirely. You were craving the touch of someone, and you didn't even have to tell him.

You could just tell with the way he was moving his mouth against yours, and the way his body was flush with you, that he was wanting it just as bad.

Paul's hand finally let go of yours so he could lace his fingers into the hair at the back of your head, and your own hand slid around to his back. He tried pulling you even closer, but it just wasn't possible.

You sighed quietly as you kissed him again, and again, and Paul's hand unweaved itself from your hair as he cupped your face before breaking the kiss off again, another troubled look on his face.

"Ringo'll kill me if he knew I was--"

"Paul, please. I need this," you didn't let him finish his sentence. You didn't really care what your brother thought of anything, and you assumed, deep down, Paul really didn't care either, because he dove back in for more kisses as soon as he could.

His hands cupped your jawline as you gripped his sweater in your fists at his chest. You parted your mouth slightly and just melted into Paul's arms when he swiped his tongue along your bottom lip.

You moaned lowly against him, ears ringing, and all Paul could think to do was blindly shuffle you backwards towards the sofa, but instead, you felt the coffee table hit the back your legs, and you nearly stumbled back. The glasses, once filled with scotch but now only ice, shuffled against the table's surface at the force of you bumping into it.

Paul ended your kiss once more, one of his hands leaving the side of your face to circle around your hips quickly so you didn't fall back. He smiled at you when he knew you weren't going anywhere, offering you a teasing, "maybe you do have two left feet, Darling."

That wonderful pet name made your flesh rise with goosebumps, but all you could mumble to him was, "Just shut up and kiss me, Paul."

Without hesitation, he did just that, which felt like an eternity to the both of you since the last one.

He, still blindly, yet carefully, directed you around the table and to the sofa. Paul, with his hands holding your hips, was the first to sink down, but encouraged you to straddle him as soon as he was fully seated with an encouraging tap to the back of your thighs.

It was your turn to pull away now, your dominant hand resting flat against the centre of Paul's chest as you gave him a good once-over, feeling his heartbeat beneath your palm.

Paul was leaned back, lips parted and shining, assumably from the spit you'd been exchanging, and his eyes almost twinkling at you in adoration.

Your heart was full of something you hadn't felt in a very long time, and it was all because of this sensual interaction.

You reached out with your other hand and ran your thumb over his bottom lip, his shallow breath fluttering gently against the skin on your fingers. You tilted his head up and kissed him again, and your fingernails just couldn't resist playing with his beard any longer.

Paul's grip on your hips tightened when you started doing that, and when you decided to take your other hand off his chest and start playing with his hair, he let out a very low groan against your lips, and to both of your surprise, his hips bucked up involuntarily against you.

He gasped at his own actions, and you pulled away to view the look of apologetic shock written on his face. His cheeks and neck were flushed, and his eyebrows were bent in worry, again.

"I-I promise I didn't mean to..." Paul's voice carried a hint of... shame, almost. You watched as he nervously toyed his bottom lip between his teeth as he tried searching his brain for something to say, but the effects of his drink and your sweet attention had him grasping for any type of clear thought.

But all of his attempts went completely out the window when you lowered your hips down and rocked them back against his, his head falling back against the sofa as his eyes rolled, a guttural moan rumbling from deep within his chest.

It was absolutely apparent that Paul's jeans were lacking the room they'd possessed a few minutes prior, and when you repeated the circular motion with your hips again, feeling him hard against your core, you were rewarded with another low growl from him.

"W-wait," Paul uttered weakly after a second, arms and fingers tightening at your hips to keep you from moving around and teasing him again, as much as he didn't want you to stop.

"I want this so much. I want you so much," he began, taking a beat to rake his eyes down your body as his tongue swiped against his own bottom lip. His gaze flitted back to your eyes, and he swallowed nervously.

"I don't want you to do this if you aren't, y'know..." you waited for him to finish his thought, and his round pink cheeks seemed to flush just a little more.

"If you're not okay with it."

You took a second to think on his argument. You and he were relatively fresh out of troubled relationships, and you both seemed to be hurting from the aftermath of said relationships...

But you were so lonely, too. And, to each other, you were simply beautiful, and respectful people, offering your... company... in a time of isolation for you both.

And it wasn't like there was any label for what you two were, either. All you and Paul needed was to feel wanted-- to feel loved.

And only if you could experience such a feeling for one more night in your life, Paul was offering now. And you were going to take it.

"I want this moment to last, Paul. If you're okay with making me feel wanted again, I am more than comfortable doing the same for you."

You could see him visibly relax when you said that, relief washing over his features as he reached a hand up to caress the back of your neck and bring you into a single, sweet kiss. You still couldn't get over how gentle and polite he was still being about all of this.

"We should really... go to my room," Paul suggested quietly after pulling a fraction of an inch away from the contact. You nodded your head, sighing "okay" as Paul closed the gap between you both just once more, only for a peck.

He let go of your hips and he reached for your hands instead, fingers intertwining slowly, and affectionately. You slid out of his lap, and Paul rose to his feet, guiding you without a hurry towards of the threshold of the den, where you stood to greet him unexpectedly just an hour or so before this moment.

The 45 on the record player had since finished playing the song, needle spinning needlessly in silence. Paul briefly resituated the player before continuing your journey one step at a time towards his bedroom, the heart in your chest beating erratically.

You climbed the stairs together, one dragging step at a time, and Paul led you around the corner of the hallway, pausing at the first room on the right. He glanced over at you, hand on the doorknob as he gave you another look. One that was asking a final, "are you sure?"

You placed your free hand over Paul's without a sound, and together you opened the door. He pulled you in for one more intimate embrace, lips on yours again before he pulled you into the dark room, gently kicking the door closed behind him.

And that night, you stayed with Paul. Hand-in-hand, bodies entwined, souls healing, loneliness fading away, and hopes of feeling whole again finally returning.

Being awake in the middle of the night had never been so gratifying.

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A/A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this! like I said, I can always whip up a part 2 regarding what happened behind those closed doors, so lmk if you're interested in that at all! Thanks for the support again and stay tuned for more works!

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