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#ringo starkey
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This is me saying someone needs to make a video with photos of Ringo to the song Ringo by Jimmy dean - listen to it and you'll see my vision xxx
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akayumig · 7 months
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I am in love with this movie oml
I draw this scene!✨
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spirits-having-flown · 5 months
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The Beatles alternate takes from the Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band photoshoot, 1967
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iheartjohnlennon · 5 months
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can i request a fic where Ringo and George share Reader (or it’s a threeway relationship) and it’s all cute :) love your stuff <3
'Heaven is a bedroom'
Southampton, '65
Word count: 1,438
Tags: Throuple, Fluff, Angst
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The rented holiday home was a quaint retreat in Southampton. It stood tall and was perched on the coast wonderfully. 
She forgot whether it was George's or Ringo's idea to rent it. Either way, she remembered getting excited when the getaway idea was proposed to her. She felt a sense of belonging there like she was exactly where she had needed to be.
It was perfect, it was massive, it was secluded. And she couldn't help but entertain the idea of making it their own.
It was quite snippy out on the front that day, the wind made it so.
The set sun darkened the sky a pretty colour since it had gotten late. Everything was still visible but lensed in a light blue hue.
The ocean lapped at her feet and the wind tousled her hair and ruffled the edge of her skirt. She heard her name seemingly being carried to her by the breeze. It was a faint call, and indistinct as the waves crashed.
"Y/N, love!" One of them yelled, it sounded like an invite.
She couldn't discern which one of them it was, they had become one in her mind. Whoever shouted for her was vying for her attention even though she was still in eyesight.
She waved back at them before carrying on with her stroll along the soft edge of the water.
She thought of interaction with the beach to be a lovemaking of some sort, akin to what she had with George and Ringo. A connection that ran deeper than the ocean itself.
Most, if not all people knew them as friends, perhaps something slightly closer than that, but only ever slightly. Thinking about the intimate moments made a coyness settle into her heart. 
She adored them both with a fervour that transcended what started as mutual infatuation. 
"Y/N."
That name call came again, a few minutes after the last one, this time it was unmistakably Ringo's voice.
She turned around and saw the pair seated on the blanket.
"Come and join us," George said, beckoning her over.
So, she made her way to them, letting her bare feet sink into the soft grains beneath them. 
She kneeled in front of them, their eyes shifted all over her as her eyes shifted all over them.
"What is it?" She asked, smiling.
George held out his arms, eager to hold her. She happily held out her arms as well. She hugged him right back, their arms tightly around each other's midriffs.
They let go, and she nestled herself between the two, with George now pressed against her back, it was a comfortable feel. She was facing Ringo, her eyes met his, he leaned in and gave her a soft peck.
"We missed you," George murmured, his voice low. He tickled her ear with his teeth, he wanted his words to resonate with her.
"Oh?" She teased, turning to look up at him, their noses touching.
Ringo chimed in, slightly moving closer, "I missed you a bit more, I reckon."
"Yeah, our mermaid on the shore," George whispered dreamily, his hand finding her waist. He shifted her closer to him, her arse now against his crotch.
She could feel George getting stiff against her, but she thought to tease him. She didn't want to satiate his needs on the beach, not today anyway. 
"What are you doing?" She asked playfully. 
"Just trying to get you closer, love. Can you blame me? Look at you."
"Feeling a bit daring, are we?"
"Aye, you're irresistible."
Y/N's laughter was a sultry invitation, a coy and sensual response to George's audaciousness. She teased him further and shifted away from his prick. 
Ringo couldn't help but feel a pang of possessiveness. Though he could perfectly bear seeing them close, their intimacy was just a reminder they had to share, and share he did. 
Ringo began, "I love you, Y/N." 
He didn't give her a chance to say it back and kissed her soon after his declaration.
She giggled against his lips, she found everything they did so endearing, even when it was the opposite. 
His kiss deepened so she wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him closer. George watched intently with arousal, though slightly disheartened. He understood the game being played, and it was simply to love her. 
Ringo's lips found her neck, each kiss made her laugh obnoxiously. She found herself put on her back, right against the blanket. 
"Not here," she groaned.
She put a hand against his chest and he pulled away, leaving her breathless. 
"Yet, you mean. Not yet." Ringo retorted. 
With a coy look in her eye, she whispered, "The beach is sacred, you know. It's our little haven, we can't take away its innocence and have a shag."
"Well, I think you've had enough of this water-play, love. You've been at it since we bloody came." Ringo said, he shot her a mock stern look. "And what's that you said? We can't fuck you on the beach?" 
She looked away, feigning innocence. "Oh, I can't help it, Richie."
"You'll turn into a fish at this rate!" George quipped.
"Aye, we thought we lost you at sea before, love!" Ringo stated dramatically, cupping her face.
She pouted, "You two act like I ran off with the sea, can't help it if it calls me sometimes."
"Well, we'd best make sure he doesn't steal you away completely then," George joked.
"Never."
As she settled, she turned her attention to the small picnic basket one of them had brought.
"What's in it then?" She asked.
Ringo reached into the basket and pulled out a bottle of white wine and a pack of cigarettes.
"No food?" Her question was only half joking, she was hungry.
He chucked and shook his head, he got steady uncorking the bottle for them.
George chuckled, leaning in to kiss her neck. "We'll eat inside. We'll cook something together, won't we?"
"Oh, yes, we will." She gasped, excited. 
"But what?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Dunno, but we'll ransack the place for something." George laughed. 
Her eyes sparkled with anticipation at his little domestic request. Evenings like that were a natural perfection and made her envision a tangible future with them. 
They all sat spread on the blanket. Ringo had uncorked the bottle, there were no cups, but that hardly mattered.
With a flourish, he passed it to George, who took a hearty swig, savouring the taste.
She eagerly accepted the bottle from George and took a long gulp, the wine warmed her from the inside out.
Ringo's eyes gleamed mischievously. "Not leaving much for us, are you?"
As the bottle made its rounds, laughter mingled with the soft lapping of the waves.
Y/N eventually reclined on the blanket, her body sinking into the warm sand. She let out a contented sigh, her heart brimming with affection for the two men beside her.
"You two..." Her voice was soft and her eyes were glassy, "I adore you both."
Ringo's eyes crinkled at the corner as he smiled. "Oh, we know, love," he replied, his fingers brushing against hers as he took back the bottle. "And we adore you too."
"Adoration? That's a strong word, love." George teased. 
 
She sighed, "I have wishes for a future, you know." 
 
Ringo raised an eyebrow, "Are they modest wishes?" 
 
George chimed in with a chuckle, "Perhaps a holiday on the moon next?" 
George, his embrace still snug, seemed to have lightly succumbed to the wine, his movements more languid.
 
She laughed with them, her heart swelled with affection, "Something like that."
A sigh escaped her lips as she shifted on the blanket, the world a blur of sensations. "I mean, I wanna stay here forever," she confessed, her voice a hazy murmur.
George and Ringo exchanged a funny glance, Y/N's brows furrowed. 
"I'm serious," she insisted. 
Ringo's voice cut through the moment, "Shall we head inside?" She and George shared a look then nodded in unison. 
The trio gathered their things, and Y/N slipped an oversized shirt over herself, George's hands helped her into the fabric. 
As they made their way inside, Ringo made his way up the trail swiftly. George's hand found hers, his gaze warm.
In the quiet moment as they followed behind, she found herself reflecting on their relationship. It was wholly unconventional, yes, but it was theirs, and she cherished it deeply and hoped they did too. 
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sparrowofrhiannon · 7 days
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Little whiteboard doodle??? Idk please enjoy
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okwritingandpain · 9 months
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Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da: The Beatles X Reader Chapter Index
Summary: A young girl meets present-day Paul McCartney who sends her back in time to save the Beatles.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22: The Ringo Ending
Chapter 23: The George Ending
Chapter 24: The John Ending
Chapter 25: The Paul Ending
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thebeatles-world · 11 months
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Omg I just found your account ahdsj and I love it!! Especially your ringo stuff eee, could I rq a blurb where the reader is a assistant for the beatles and ringo starts to notice you've been getting stressed and haven't been sleeping enough/eating well and is determined to help? Sorry if your fanfic rqs aren't open rn I was just wonderin!!:>
Thank you! I love writing imagines for Ringo 🥺😍🥰 & honestly pls request more imagines of Ringo because I love him sooo much. Also my inbox is always open for imagines of The Beatles! Don’t be afraid to request one!
I hope you like this imagine!
Help!
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You were working as a assistant for The Beatles for a while now.
It did get chaotic sometimes working for the boys. They would run all over you and you honestly felt like a teacher calming down a classroom full of children when they got rowdy, loud and chased each other.
Your job wasn’t as easy as they thought it was. You had to mange them, schedule dinner meets, conferences, meet and greets, handle their paperwork, made sure the boys got up on time, and communicate back and forth to Brian every day about what’s going on.
You felt like you were running around with your head cut off and the boys weren’t making it easy…
“Boys! Can you stop that please?” You asked nicely as you saw John, Paul and George playing with their food and started to throw it at each other while laughing.
You noticed that Ringo was just silently staring at them, slowly taking bites of his mashed potatoes.
Of course as usual they didn’t listen to you and continued to do what they were doing.
“Please don’t do that, you are going to-“ You begin as you saw Paul grab a handful of mashed potatoes from his plate and threw it right at John’s suit.
“Ruin his suit.” You mumbled to yourself. It was too late. John’s suit was ruined and it was only 30 minutes until they needed to leave for showtime.
John and Paul just started laughing at the mashed potato stain that John now had on his suit.
“It feels like I’m working for a bunch of children!!” You groaned out loud, covering your face as you left the room.
Ringo felt bad for you. He knew that his bandmates didn’t care and they weren’t taking it easy on you. He was the only one that didn’t participate in the foolish acts that they did.
He also noticed that you weren’t eating and sleeping well. He knew that you were up late at night planning for the next day and working hard while the boys were sleeping.
Ringo wanted to give you a hand and help you out. He felt like it was the right thing to do and he wanted for you to have a break for once without having a stressful day.
At least he thought that your job wasn’t easy…
After the concert, you stayed up late as always and worked on plans for the next days ahead. You made sure paperwork was done and you wrote a few reminders down to make sure you wouldn’t forget.
You heard a knock on your bedroom door.
You raised an eyebrow, putting down your pencil.
“Who could this be? Probably one of the boys wanting something.” You mumbled to yourself as you put on a robe.
“Yes come in.” You said, sitting down on your chair.
“Hey… It’s me Ringo.” Ringo gave you a smile as he opened your bedroom door.
“Hey Ringo, Can I help you?” You said in confusion.
“Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping?” You added as he came to your room.
“I was wondering if we could talk?” Ringo said, sitting down on you bed.
“Yes of course. About what?” You raised an eyebrow.
“I noticed you work very hard and I know you don’t get appreciate of how hard you work. You deserve to have a stress-free life. You done so much for us. You are the most selfless person i know. You are a very lovely lady and I hate to see how my band mates treat you. I was wondering if… I could help?” Ringo asked.
You were shocked but in awe of his words.
Ringo noticed how hard you been working? And noticed how you felt?
That was so sweet of him.
“Ringo, you are such a sweet guy… I appreciate your offer but-“ you begin before he cut you off.
“I’ll do it for free. I’ll do it to make sure you don’t have enough on your plate. I want to make sure that at the end of the day you are eating, sleeping well and being stress free. That’s all it matters to me.” Ringo took your hand and held it.
“I promise.” He said softly.
“Okay. Of course. That will do.” You said softly with a smile.
“Thank you.” You added, leaning in to give Ringo a hug.
“You’re welcome Y/N.” Ringo hugged you back.
Over the next few weeks, there was definitely a huge improvement.
With Ringo’s help, you got to relax, eat and sleep well. He even calmed John, Paul and George down when they were acting really rowdy and he made them realize that your job position wasn’t easy.
He even helped you out scheduling meetings, dinner, hotels, meet and greets with public, flights and people as well.
Having Ringo by your side made it so easy. You weren’t stressed out as you were back then. He had your back and having his help made it more easier on you. Every night he would offer to give you a massage which of course you accepted because Ringo was really good at massaging you and his massage’s relaxed you and your body a lot.
“Ringo I just know you are going to be husband material one day!” You told him as he started to massage your feet.
Ringo started blushing after you told him that.
“You deserve it my dear Y/N. For being a good assistant.” Ringo said.
“Hey guys have you seen my -“ John said as he came to the living room where Ringo was giving you a massage at.
“Aww Ringo, I didn’t know you had the hots for Y/N.” John smirked at Ringo.
“What are you talking about? I’m just giving her a massage.” Ringo said, raising his eyebrow at him. You raised your eyebrow at John as well while you took a sip of your lemonade drink.
“Mhm sure. Just make sure to use protection if you guys ever decide to do it.” John smirked and left.
John’s comment almost made you spit out your drink.
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hauntedpants · 3 months
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the bugs or smth idk i wasn’t alive in the 60s
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beatleshalloween · 3 months
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A bearded Ringo Starr!
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last-airis · 9 months
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making several drawings at once
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bandfreak · 2 years
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george harrison & ringo starr
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akayumig · 7 months
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SKETCHES OF THE BEATLES✨
BC I LOVE THEM
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margueritedaisies · 8 months
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LennStarr with Fem! Ringo💗✨💖💕🎸🥁
I really enjoyed coloring them, almost died making the guitar😭 It was so much fun to play around with custom brushes✨
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phvntom-power · 3 months
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Ringo is next !! I’ll admit this one isn’t my best so I’ll do a better one of him soon 🫶🫶
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chaotichedonist · 1 year
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by Paul McCartney
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okwritingandpain · 3 months
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Penny Lane's Getting Better (The Beatles x Reader)
Chapter 2: Penny Lane
The sound of your mother's knock on the door awakes you. Your eyes feel heavy like rocks and your body feels worn. A day of moving had tired you more than you thought. 
"Come in..." you muster, rubbing your eyes. Your mother quickly rushes in with a dress in her hand. 
"Come on, rise and shine!" your mother urges, basically pulling you out of bed. 
"What's happening?" you mutter, yawning. 
"You're supposed to meet the boy next door in an hour!" your mother lays the dress out on your bed. 
"Is that seriously what I'm wearing?" you say, staring at the hideous thing. (Mind you, it's 1950 something, so dresses were expected.) 
"This 'hideous thing' cost me three times your the meals you had in the last week," your mother says. The dress in question was blue with a white polka-dot dress with a blue cinch belt. This sounds good until you notice the blue is already fading with brown at the bottom. Your mother got ripped off, like usual. 
You frown as your mother starts rushing you again. 
"Get dressed, come downstairs and have some breakfast, and I'll help you with your hair." she leaves the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts...and a hideous dress. 
While you hated the fact you had to wear the dress, you didn't want to get on your mother's bad side on the first day of school. 
You quickly start dressing, glancing in the mirror, feeling like you were some house wife in the dress. The dress doesn't look bad on you, but it wasn't the most flattering dress in the world. 
Would John see you in the dress? No, no, why would that matter? Why would a thought like that cross your mind?
 You fight off a blush and head downstairs where your mother has breakfast ready. Your sister and father are sitting at the table, munching on back bacon and egg. Your mother smiles at you, seeing you in the dress. 
"Quickly, we have to do your hair." your mother ushers you into your seat. 
"You look funny," Sophie says, munching on a piece of egg. 
"That's not nice, Sophie," your father says, glancing up at you. Your mother sets a plate of food in front of you. 
"Eat, eat!" she waves her hand, crazily. 
"Let her breathe," your father says. Everyone is silent around you as you eat your food. 
Sophie didn't have to go to school yet, and that bothered you. Your mother wanted you to start school again quickly, incase English school is different from American school. You didn't care, you knew you would pick it up quickly enough. 
"Who's the neighbor boy again?" your mother asks, washing her hands. 
"John," you reply, quickly. Your father raises his eyebrow at your response while your mother nods. 
"John?" he repeats, now glancing at your mother. "When were you going to tell me about this...John?" This causes you to glance up at your mother. 
"He's the neighbor boy that's walking sissy to school," Sophie cuts in. Both you and your mother shoot daggers with your eyes at Sophie. Your father looks back questioningly. 
"Why didn't you tell me about this?" he looks at your mother. She shrugged, turning away from him. 
"It's not important, Dad," you say, even though it feels important in your head. Your mother checks the time, gasping and pulling you out of your chair. 
"It's almost 8! Let's get that hair fixed!" She rushes you into the bathroom, spraying and combing your hair into what she considered the perfect shape. 
She looks pleased with her creation, promptly grabbing your school bag and pushing you out the door. You don't even get a chance to say goodbye before you were on the street. 
"Hey," you hear the familiar voice. Jolting around, you see him standing next to you. He has his school bag and what looked like a guitar case on his shoulder. 
"Hi, John," you hide your blush. You hate the dress and hopes he doesn't pay much attention to it. You see is eyes look you up and down, but his smile never seems to waver. 
"You ready?" he asks. You nod and he pulls your arm as he jogs down the street. You stumble, trying to keep up with him and his firm grasp on your arm didn't make it any easier. 
"Why are we running?" you ask, nearly tripping. 
"You don't want to miss the daily lives of the people of Penny Lane, don't you?" he yells back, stopping suddenly in front of a barber shop. You take a moment to catch your breath before turning to him. 
"Why are we here?" you ask, feeling his hand leave your arm. He chuckles as the barber points to a picture on his wall in front of a client.
"That's every head he's had the pleasure to know," he whispers in your ear. It sends a shiver down your spine. 
"Is this where you get your hair done?" she smirks. He does the same back, dragging her into the barber shop. The little shop is small, but cozy with checkered flooring. The barber has a brown mustache and a balding head. 
"Morning, John," he waves at him, "who is this?" John walks you closer to the man. 
"This is Y/N, and that is my photo." he points to the wall. You nod, sheepishly. The barber shakes your hand, greeting you with kindness. 
You didn't stay long as John ushered you out of the shop like your mother out of the house this morning. He jogs down the street again, firmly grasping your arm. You didn't know how he did it with his guitar and school bag on. 
He stops in the street and points at a man on a motorcar. Some younger children laugh as he rounds the corner. 
"There's the banker. He's a fool, you know? It's supposed to rain today and he doesn't even have a Mac!" John laughs like the children. 
"I don't have a Mac either," you say, slightly embarrassed. John shrugs. 
"At least you don't know the real reason we say he doesn't wear a Mac." he laughs. You look at him questioningly again. 
"But--"
"At least you have an excuse not having a Mac, you're new. We don't judge newcomers unless you judge us, you know?" he smiles, this time grabbing your hand as you rush through the street. 
"It's so beautiful here," you say, admiring the blue suburban skies. 
"Luckily, Penny Lane is everywhere. In my ears...in my eyes..." he gives a soft smile. 
"Aren't you quite poetic?" you laugh. He stops running, standing in front of the fire station. 
"I try my best," he says, "there's a fireman with an hourglass in there." 
"Why an hourglass?" you ask, trying to peer into the fire station. He shrugs, watching the door to the station lifting. 
"He keeps a portrait of the Queen in his pocket too, the old man," he laughs to himself. Of course, you had heard of the Queen, but never had you actually realized that she is a very important figure to where you live now. 
"He cleans that fire engine every day and night, I tell you. It's quite the clean machine if you ask me." he smirks at you, giving your hand a playful squeeze. You blush before he pulls you away again. 
You run down the street, now keeping pace with John who now was sprinting. Did he do this every morning? Or did he just do this for you? 
You then smell the scent of food, wafting down the street. It made your stomach growl as your mother had cut off your breakfast. Then you realize, it's fish. You didn't mind fish, but still, you wished it was something better. Maybe some sort of treat or even anything more breakfast like. 
"You up a four a fish and finger pies?" he smirks, jokingly. You raise an eyebrow at him. "I'm joking of course," he says, "you don't know what that means do you?" You shake your head as he hold back his laughter. 
"What does it mean?" you ask. 
"I think it's best you don't know, just if a guy asks you that, punch him and run," he says, turning back around and sprinting. You are now very confused, but choose to just look past that interaction. 
John soon pulls you towards a roundabout where there looks to be a shelter. John blushes at one of the nurses selling poppies. 
"They sell those every November for the veterans," he says, standing closer to you than you liked. 
"That's very sweet of them," you reply, your face a little hot. He blushes at the nurse, but looks at you and his face turns entirely new shade of red. 
"We better pick up the pace or we'll be late for school." he grips your hand again, but glances back behind him. You stop too, and look in the direction he was. 
"I think the banker's getting a trim today." Then the rain hit, pelting you both in water. John reaches into his bag and pulls out his Mac. He grins and throws it over you. "Wouldn't want you're dress getting ruined now," he yells over the rain. 
You blush remembering you were even wearing the hideous thing in the first place. 
"I can't accept this!" You yell back. 
"I don't care!" he yells back, smirking. 
He grips your hand, pulling you towards the school. You both make it to the front entrance with the rest of the kids. People comment on John's soaking wet appearance, but he doesn't seem to care. 
The school was dull and gray especially with the weather. Golden lights shown from classroom windows, the cramped hallways were dimly lit. 
He walks you into the school past multiple teachers who are already giving you the stink eye. Being associated with John maybe wasn't a good thing in their eyes, or anyone's eyes except for maybe...
"Paul!" John shouts for everyone to hear. The person he called out to turned as the crowd split away from him. The boy was cute with brown hair and dark brown eyes, he gave you a sweet smile. 
"Is this the new girl you talked about, John?" he asks, glancing at you. 
"This is Y/N," John says, tugging at the Mac. You take it off, handing it to him. You didn't quite know what use it would be to him now though. 
"Pleasure to meet you." Paul extends his hand and you shake it. "I'm Paul, by the way." 
"Nice to meet you," you say. Suddenly out of nowhere another boy appeared from behind Paul. Both you and Paul jump, a little startled by the appearance of the new boy. 
"Hello, you must be Y/N, I'm George," the boy also extends his hand which you shake. He then retreats behind Paul. He had dark brown eyes and dark hair too. You noticed that the boys all looked similar. 
George must be shy. 
"Sorry about him," John says, "he's a little shy around girls."
"Am not," George snaps. 
"Are too," Paul replies. 
"Is George still afraid of women?" a third boy walks up to them. He's shorter than the rest and compared to the others he has blue eyes. 
"Afraid so, Ringo," Paul says with a smirk. Ringo turns his attention towards you. 
"Y/N, am I right? I'm Ringo," he extends his hand and for the third time today, she shook his hand. 
Finally the whole group was together at last. 
John made a playful jab at your arm after a few seconds of silence. Paul seemed to notice, forming a forced and fake smile. You wondered what that was about. 
"Well, shall we get to class before I get threatened to be expelled again?" John says, causing the other guys to burst out laughing. You just smile, not sure how you fit in with them yet. 
"What's your first class?" Paul asks and you hand him your schedule, "ah, perfect, English is with me. Come on!" He motions for you to follow him. 
He begins walking away and you turn to look at John who already is distracted by his other friends. You sigh, this was the beginning. 
You catch up with Paul, leaving John for the first time that day. 
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@sabrielka-133
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