Tumgik
I just found out that Auguste Lumière, who invented the cinematographer with his brother Louis, died until 1954. The brothers never thought films would go beyond being displayed occasionally in fairs and didn't really pursue cinema after 1905.
I can only imagine what he must've felt like seeing what started as a crazy dream only shared by his brother slowly morph and evolve into something like the Golden Age of Hollywood.
I like to imagine old Auguste sitting in a packed theater, hundreds of people laughing or gasping around him, their eyes glued to the gigantic screen. Still he doesn't see any of that. All he can see is his long-lost brother sitting next to him, tinkering with the artifact that has consumed many days and nights that would've been spent dreaming about it anyways. But they have a full house tonight. The little tent is filled to capacity with gawking men, women and children. Some have to settle for peeking through an opening in the tent. The film is just a few seconds long, but it's enough to make the audience yell and recoil in terror at the train headed straight towards them. Auguste laughs, as does his brother with a relieved sigh. The show went well. They made it. In a different time, Auguste watches as the hero passionately kisses the damsel. The music swells and fills the chest of every spectator so much so that a few sniffles are heard here and there. Huge letters anounce the end of the story and a roaring applause storms the elderly man's ears. He smiles, satisfied.
They made it.
0 notes
John Mulaney Quotes as songs by The Beatles
She’s Leaving Home
Tumblr media
Drive My Car
Tumblr media
Run For Your Life
Tumblr media
Norwegian Wood
Tumblr media
Eleanor Rigby
Tumblr media
I Am The Walrus
Tumblr media
She said, she said
Tumblr media
Revolution 9
Tumblr media
Hello, goodbye
Tumblr media
Help!
Tumblr media
Let it be
Tumblr media
With A Little Help From My Friends
Tumblr media
I Need You
Tumblr media
183 notes · View notes
Photo
Tumblr media
Ok, so, I made a thing...
9 notes · View notes
Paul McCartney x Reader Blurb
Tumblr media
A/N: There’s nothing much to add here, I just came up with this little idea and while it’s not enough to make an entire imagine out of it, it was WAY too cute to let it go to waste. 
Warnings: Too. Much. Fluff
----------------------------------------------
“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” Paul muttered as he stood in front of the barrier, hands in his pockets as he stared at the litter of puppies that yipped and ran around the pen. 
“Oh, come on, aren’t they cute?” you replied as you crouched down and stuck your finger between the thin bars, attempting to catch the attention of one of the puppies. However, they seemed to be way too busy playing amongst them to notice you. 
“See? They don’t even pay us any mind!” he continued with a soft laugh, staring at you. 
“That’s because we’re out here,” you protested, sliding the door open and walking inside the pen. “Come on. Please?” 
Despite being there against his will, Paul knew how excited you were about this. And his desire to see you happy undertook any trace of grumpiness left in him.  However, the puppies still seemed reluctant to approach you. They all remained on the other side of the pen, running on the opposite direction whenever either of you tried to approach them. 
You sighed in defeat as two of them avoided you once again. You had wanted a puppy very badly for years, but since your boyfriend was always on tour and you tended to tag along, it would be nearly impossible to look after one properly. Now that he said you’d be staying in London for a while since the band was working on a new album, you thought it would be the best time to finally air your wish to him. 
However, after you finally convinced him, things were definitely not going according to plan. You heard a muffled laugh coming from behind you and turned around to find an amused Paul, who looked at your futile attempts to catch a puppy. 
“Oh, shut up!” you chided him. However, it was impossible to hold back a laughter. You were silently thankful for how he could always brighten your mood with such ease. 
Before he could reply, you saw him frown in confusion and lower his glance to the puppy tugging on his pant leg. 
“Hey, stop that!” he scolded it, wrapping his hand around its belly and lifting it. This one was different. White with a large grey spot on its side and belly, much fluffier and larger than the others. The seller seemed to notice your confusion and approached you with a smile. 
“That one’s from a different litter. I kept her here with the others so she wouldn’t be alone.” he explained, gesturing towards the puppy, who wiggled in an attempt to escape Paul’s hands. 
“Well, aren’t you a feisty one?” your boyfriend said, the dog seemingly replying with a loud yip. You knew him well enough to know they would definitely get along.
“So, I think I’ve finally thought of a name.” You said, holding the now asleep pup in your arms while Paul drove you back home. 
“Wheezer?” he asked mockingly, hearing the sound it made as it slept, too high to be a snore. “How about Drooler?” 
“Oh, don’t be like that” you said, petting her head. “Give it a week. You’ll be as crazy about her as I am.”
“I really doubt it, my love. But you’re happy, and that’s more than enough for me.” he added, quickly leaning towards you to kiss your temple. 
“Don’t listen to him, Martha.” you whispered to the sleeping ball of fur. “he likes you already, I can tell.” 
104 notes · View notes
♪♪♪!
Thanks for the question ❤️❤️
Song is California Waiting by Kings of Leon!
Tumblr media
3 notes · View notes
Send me "♪" and I will shuffle mp3/ipod/music player and write my favourite line with my handwriting
20K notes · View notes
Love Me Everytime
Tumblr media
Jim Morrison x Fem! Reader
Category: Fluff
Warnings: Some language, alcohol and smoking, some angst and pregnancy scare
Word Count: 3K
----------------------------------------------------------
The room was perfectly quiet. Outside, the sun had yet to make its appearance in the east. Your breathing was tranquil and rhythmic, and you hadn’t noticed the empty space beside you on the bed. Suddenly, the door began to open slowly with a soft creak, a faint ray of light finding its way inside the room momentarily before a figure stepped in and closed the door after him. 
Jim knelt next to the bed and briefly scrutinized your sleeping shape with a glint of a smile on his face. However, he quickly remembered he was on schedule and proceeded to slide his arms under your shoulder blades and the back of your legs to pick you up as gently as he could, trying his best not to wake you up. 
He carried you inside the elevator and crossed the lobby of the hotel all the band was staying at, reaching the entrance in just a couple of seconds, thanking any deity that was listening for the lack of people whose noise could disturb you. 
A small car stopped in front of the hotel, driven by a bellhop who stepped out and handed the singer a set of keys with a smile. 
“Here’s the car you requested, Mr. Morrison,” he informed with a whisper. 
“Is everything packed up already?” Jim asked similarly, gesturing with his head towards the trunk of the vehicle. The young man nodded with a polite “yes, sir”. Jim thanked him and made his way towards the car, finding the blanket and pillows he had requested laying on the backseat. He carefully placed you on the makeshift bed and went on to the front seat. However, before starting the car, he remained still and in deep thought. His fingers tapped the wheel nervously as he drew in a deep breath, a single thought crossing his mind.
“Oh my god, what the hell am I doing?” 
Despite being nothing but a bundle of nerves at the moment, he never felt tempted to back down. That same thought had crossed his mind a lot during the last couple of months, but it always felt like a dare to himself rather than an actual concern. It only took one short glance at you from the rear-view mirror for him to start the car and speed down the empty streets, reminiscing of the night you met in what felt like a century ago. It was hard to believe it had been less than two years ago. 
There was no such thing as a “slow” night at the Whisky. If the music of the band of the day wasn’t blaring through the speakers, the constant chatter of the people who occupied the tables filled the air and gave the nightclub its signature undying effervescence.  
And, of course, one never knew who they might come across as many revered stars frequented the place. 
Jim Morrison, the young lead singer of rising band The Doors, was uncharacteristically nervous. Of course, he’d rather drop dead than let any of his bandmates see that, and so he retreated to a small corner of the place, next to the kitchen door. Sitting on a wooden stool he had found, Jim searched the pockets of his jacket hastily, fetching a nearly empty box of cigarettes. He put one between his teeth before diving his shaking fingers back inside, searching for his lighter. 
This was ridiculous. Sure, that was the first time the band would play at the Whisky and a place with such a reputation could be their big chance or the beginning of the end, but he was no stranger to many of the faces he saw among the crowd. Some of them he even knew from college, and they had heard the band play once or twice. 
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” he scowled when it became obvious that his pockets were empty, and the brief memory of the lighter resting atop his nightstand crossed his mind. 
Then, a figure crossed the back door and walked past him towards the kitchen. 
“Hey,” he called out, a little too harshly for his taste despite his bad mood. The figure stopped and turned back to face him. 
Back in the present, Jim shook his head with an embarrassed smile at the way he was taken aback by your eyes. When you both reminisced of that moment, you swore you hadn’t noticed and you hadn’t, but only because you were still unfamiliar with Jim’s nonchalant ways. Now that you had gotten through that facade, whenever he asked with that sultry smirk of his how he looked when he first laid eyes on you, your response was a mischievous “like a deer in the headlights.” 
Quickly recovering, Jim cleared his throat and lifted the white cylinder between his fingers. 
“Have you got a lighter?” he asked. You nodded and rummaged inside your bag, fetching the small, metallic rectangle you never went anywhere without and offered it to the singer. Grabbing it with a soft “thank you,” he finally lit the cigarette and took a long drag, releasing the smoke with a long and relieved puff. Now it was your turn to be said deer, staring at the smoke that delicately spiraled all over his features. His strong jaw, curly hair, and melancholic blue eyes.  
“Are you okay?” You couldn’t help but ask at the almost cathartic way with which he took another drag. He nodded, almost stubbornly and folded his arms, lightly tapping the cigarette to let the ash fall to the floor. 
“I’m fine,” he said, his aloof demeanor stinging your pride a little. You added nothing else and just reached out your palm, unable to refrain from rolling your eyes at the man sitting before you. He looked at your extended hand and then back at you, placing the lighter on it in an unexpectedly gentle and nearly ashamed manner. You gave one firm nod before throwing it back in your bag and turning to walk into the kitchen. Waitresses couldn’t afford being late on their first day. However, before you took one step, a voice stopped you. 
“Wait,” he said, “sorry, that...that was not okay.” he apologized, lifting the little box in your direction. You clamped your lips indecisively, wondering whether you should tell this devilishly handsome stranger to go fuck himself, or just be the better person and avoid any further conflicts. “Oh, what the hell,” you thought, shrugging and accepting the cigarette before fetching your lighter again. It didn’t go unnoticed by you that he observed you carefully as you lit it up and leaned against the wall next to him. 
“You’re new, aren’t you?” The singer asked as he stood, shoving his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. When he stood right in front of you, it became evident that he towered several inches above you. 
You nodded and dared to look up, right into his eyes, refusing to be intimidated so easily. 
“To the city too, huh?” Jim further inquired. 
“Yeah,” you replied with a shrug “Is it that obvious?” 
“Anyone who doesn’t carry a jacket with them during this month obviously doesn’t know shit about this city. What did you think? You’d be safe and warm in LA?”
You felt your cheeks burn at his statement, and your obvious ignorance of Californian weather, because that was exactly what you had expected. And as such, there wasn’t a single jacket in your hastily packed wardrobe. 
“Here, you’re gonna freeze to death out there,” he said before taking off his own jacket and throwing it around your shoulders before a voice reached your ears. 
“Hey, Jim!” a man shouted from above the stage, making him turn around just in time to miss a new wave of crimson spreading over your cheeks. “It’s time, get up here!”
“I have to go, but how about I buy you a drink later and you forget this whole me-being-an-asshole incident?” he asked with a boyish smirk that made it impossible for you to refuse. You nodded trying to appear as casual as you could, and he just smiled back before sprinting towards the stage and taking his place in front of the microphone. 
Little did you know that one single drink became two, then a date, and your unbeatable chemistry made it take off effortlessly. And then Jim asked you to come on tour with the band once it began to gain recognition nation-wide. 
He’d never say it, but he loved how you could perfectly understand whatever he was trying to convey to you without saying one single word, his quiet, private ways fitting yours perfectly. You could count with the fingers of a single hand how many times either of you had said “I love you” throughout your entire time together, and yet you’d never doubted how crazy you were about each other. And how, when the situation required it, both of you could break out of those silence walls and have a good laugh. Better than any he had in his entire life. 
And now, you were asleep on the back of his car while he drove, mountains filling the surrounding landscape as the sun began to emerge from behind them, filling the sky with a palette of beautiful shades of red and orange. 
Jim took an exit and began making his way into the mountain range, taking a road that snaked around the mountains, slowly ascending. The view was so breathtaking that he felt tempted to wake you up so you could see, but he reined himself in and kept driving. 
He drove past a sign that displayed the distance left until the exit that led to some waterfalls nearby. That brought a somber memory back to the singer’s mind. Ironically, that dreadful night was when he first concocted the idea that led to his little road trip. 
He had decided to take a break from touring and go on a little vacation with you, and Niagara Falls was the chosen destination. However, he had realized you were a lot less thrilled than he thought you’d be. Lately you had been distant, always lost in thought, refused to go out for drinks with him as you used to and one night he was sure he had heard you cry in your bedroom as he got home, only for you to lock yourself in the bathroom and turn on the shower as soon as you heard the front door open. No matter how much he tried, you always assured him everything was alright. But he knew you too well for that. 
For a moment he wondered if it was guilt over something. Perhaps there was someone else? He didn’t think you’d be the cheating type. And yet, it wouldn’t count as cheating, since you had never put into words the true nature of your relationship. Jim thought it was implied...but maybe he should’ve made it clear? 
He was surprised at how much the thought of you having someone else affected (and even afflicted) him. 
The singer was sort of hoping this little get away could provide both of you with the privacy you needed to figure this out. 
So, that night he gathered all his courage and, after a whole afternoon of walking around the Falls and having dinner, Jim took you back to the hotel room. 
“So? What did you think?” he asked, throwing his coat over a chair. 
“What?” you asked absentmindedly “Oh, they were beautiful. Better than any postcard, that’s for sure,” with a half-hearted laugh, you sat on the bed and anxiously toyed with the sleeve of your shirt. 
“(Y/N)...I need to talk to you about something.” Jim said, dragging the chair so it was before the bed and sitting on it. 
“Actually, I needed to talk to you too,” you said, pursing your lips together and forcing yourself to rest your palms on your knees. Jim said nothing and simply stared at you, which you took as a chance to continue. You had been worried sick about it for nearly three weeks now, you had wondered if it was even a good idea to say something, and in the end you had decided that given how much this could possibly concern him, it was only fair that he knew. 
“I’m late,” you simply blurted out. At first, he didn’t react. He just furrowed his eyebrows, like attempting to comprehend what you were saying. Finally, a wave of realization came over him, and with a soft “oh”, Jim looked down at his hands with an absent expression on his face. 
“Is that all you’re going to say?” you asked after two whole minutes. 
“What do you expect me to say?” he replied. 
“Jim, I just told you I might be pregnant with your child. Can you elaborate a little bit more on what ‘oh’ means?” you replied, standing up as you began to grow impatient. 
“Are you sure it’s...it would be mine?” he asked. He was torn between regretting what had come out of his mouth or treating it as a real concern. 
“Am I sure…? What are you talking about?” you asked, the hurt and confused look in your eyes sending a sharp pain through his chest.  
“Yes, I mean…(Y/N), we never discussed how...exclusive this was.” 
You knew he was right. As months went by, you never mentioned anything about a relationship, and neither did he, but when you began to notice how the other members would bring the occasional girl back to their rooms while Jim kept asking for one room where he stayed with you every night, it was sort of wordlessly settled. At least for you, apparently. 
Was it not like that for him and you had it all wrong? 
Had he been with other people since…? 
The thought was too much for you to handle, and you began to make your way to the door. However, he quickly followed you and stood in front of it, blocking your exit. 
“Jim, get out of my way,” you dryly said, attempting to walk around him. That only prompted him to grab both of your shoulders firmly enough to keep you from walking away. 
“(Y/N), have you been with other people?” 
“Fuck you, Jim,” you spat out, feeling tears dwell up in your eyes. 
“Have you?” he asked sternly, without raising his voice. 
“No, I haven’t!” you bursted, “I haven’t, I just...I never saw you with anyone else, even during tours like Ray, Robbie or John did, and so I figured...I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have just assumed things were like that-”
“I haven’t either,” Jim cut you off. However, when you looked up at him, you realized he wasn’t looking at you. His eyes were lost somewhere slightly above yours, as if what he had just said wasn’t meant for you but instead was some sort of personal realization. “I haven’t. I didn’t want to.” he repeated. When he finally looked at you, Jim cleared his throat and nodded, gently bringing you close and engulfing you in a hug. 
“We’ll figure this out. Both of us.” 
That short sentence was the most reassuring thing he could’ve told you. 
And despite the whole thing having ended up being nothing but a scare, it had set that whole plan in motion. Finally, the car came to a halt and Jim couldn’t hold back a smile as he reached out behind him to softly shake you. 
“Baby, wake up,” he said before leaving the car and opening your door. “Come on, rise and shine sweet girl.” 
You groaned and blinked groggily, blinded by the light of the morning sun. You looked at your surroundings confused, slowly realizing that you weren’t in the hotel room anymore, and all those swaying movements you had felt were not part of a dream as you had thought, but rather it was your insane boyfriend taking you to god knows where in the middle of the night. 
“Where are we?” you asked, sitting up and yawning. 
“Come out here and see,” Jim said, a tinge of excitement in his voice. 
You obeyed, and as soon as you stepped off the car a loud gasp left your mouth. You were standing atop a cliff, with the most amazing view of the Adirondack mountains displayed before you, the brown leaves coloring the landscape gorgeously. 
“Remember you told me there was a cabin your parents rented when you were little and that you’d give anything to spend one more weekend there?” 
“Oh my god, no, you didn’t!” you exclaimed, turning around excitedly. 
“No, I didn’t. I asked, it’s now private property and I didn’t want to get arrested today, but I found another not so far from here that can’t be that bad.” he replied with a mocking grin. You were too happy to take any retribution against his terribly placed joke, and simply hugged him tightly. 
“Hey, there’s a camera in the glove box, why don’t you go and get it so I can take your picture?” Jim asked. You nodded and raced back to the car, leaning over the driver seat to open the compartment and search for said camera, only to find it completely empty. 
Except for one thing.
A small, metallic object that laid right in the middle. Something that you recognized immediately and rendered you motionless, with barely the ability to take it and turn back to find your boyfriend standing before you. 
“Jim, what is this?” you asked. 
“Come on baby, you know this one,” he asked, attempting to make his signature smirk but failing miserably out of nervousness. Before you could add anything else, he simply took your hand and the ring. You were silently grateful that he didn’t do the whole sink-down-on-one-knee thing. This was him. Simple, unexpected, and yet so meaningful. 
“I don’t want to be with anyone else. If anyone had told me two years ago I’d ever propose to someone, that someone would come along and make me want to be with them and just them for whatever time I have left in this fucked up world, well...you already know what would’ve happened. But if that someone is you, then I wouldn’t want it to be any other way. So, what do you say? Are you willing to put up with me for a little longer than we expected?”
The only thing you could do was hastily wipe the tears that threatened to fall down your cheeks and kiss him like it was the first time you had done so in months. 
“I love you,” you said against his lips after a few seconds. He smiled and kissed the edge of your lips before adding. 
“I love me too, who wouldn’t?” 
This time, proposal or not, he earned a well-deserved slap on his arm. 
107 notes · View notes
Today I went to a music store to get a new guitar and overheard a 7y/o passionately lecturing his dad on why he couldn't play a violin with his hands because he needed a "magic wand with strings" and kids saying that stuff are the only reason why I haven't 100% rejected the idea of having my own.
3 notes · View notes
Rock stars as Tumblr posts:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
298 notes · View notes
Tumblr media
Mood
8K notes · View notes
John Lennon
40 years ago today, we lost someone very special. A person who wrote music that touched lives and brought peoples together. That person is John Lennon. The founding member of the Beatles, turned peace activist, Johns music will forever be remembered by all his fans and loved ones who miss him dearly. John, I miss you so much and I wish you were still here but I know you’re in peace now and thank you for all the music that has significantly changed my life for the best.
85 notes · View notes
Okay so there’s a lot of discourse about liking instead of rebloging to the point where there are talks of a content creator strike. There are quite a few people that don’t understand why and seeing it as people overeacting and the only way I can think of to put it is this;
Liking instead of rebloging is basically you telling the creator that you like what they spent hours on making for free but not enough to have it on your blog for others to see.
If you do not want your followers to see that you have an interest in a certain fandom. Or say that it does not go with what your blog is about, then create a side blog for that one interest.
In regards to fanfic since a lot of authors have not been updating as much; leave reviews. Even things as simple as “This was so good.” go a long way with writers. We live off of reviews. It shows us that we’re writing for someone out there that is enjoying what we spent hours making. And when I say that whatever you ramble about in said review does not bother or annoy us I mean that. As long as it’s not hate you literally are not bothering us. Ramble, go way off topic into a full on rant about how you love what we did with a certain plot and how cannon should have did what we wrote. Go off about your disdain toward the show runner cause we’re obviously on the same page since we’re writing it.
If you’re too shy then message them privately.
282 notes · View notes
Nowhere Girl
Tumblr media
Paul McCartney x Fem!Reader
Category: Fluff
Warnings: None, I think!
Word Count: 3K
A/N: So...I was listening to She’s Leaving Home and then I kind of remembered the whole train bit of “A Hard Day’s Night” and I came up with this! Hope you like it! xoxo 
-------------------------------------------------------------------
The streets were nearly empty, covered in a thick fog that would remain there for the two hours left until sunrise. The air was mildly cold, and humid. The only moving thing was apparently the lone figure of a girl that hastily made her way down the street, attempting to reach the train station in a great hurry, constantly looking behind as if she expected someone to appear at any moment.
She walked in and walked over towards the counter, where the barely awake seller rested his head against the palm of his hand. 
“Good morning,” Y/n said politely, trying to rein herself and keep her voice from trembling. “One ticket, please,”
“Of course, darling,” the man replied with a kind smile. “where to?” 
“Where to?” she repeated the question, gazing upon the board that contained the arrivals and departures. The only fault in an otherwise flawless plan. The last thing in her mind was where she’d go if she succeeded. 
She needed it to be far away. However, the amount of money she had brought with her wasn’t quite enough for something as remote as she would’ve liked. Still, the feeling of proximity to the school made her stomach feel queasy. 
Y/n furrowed her eyebrows as another crazy scheme lit up in her brain. No crazier than the one she was partaking in at the moment, though. 
“Actually, I’ll think about it for a bit,” she replied, smiling at the man before her and walking away from the booth. The man’s sleepiness hadn’t gone unnoticed by her, and so she pretended to leave the station, just to hide around the corner and wait patiently for about ten minutes. 
Y/n covertly peeked around the corner and caught a glimpse of the ticket seller already asleep, his face seeming to melt over his hand as he rested his arm upon the counter. With a mischievous smile, the girl tiptoed her way past the ticket booth and onto the boarding platform. However small the station was, several trains stopped there either to refuel or as a quick connection on their way to their final destination, which was exactly what she needed. 
“Am I really going to do this?” she whispered to herself, a faint vapor coming out of her mouth as she exhaled deeply to give herself some courage. 
The sound of a train entering the station made her knees wobbly. 
“Alright, this is it. Now or never. Come on, Y/n, you’ve come too far to back out now.” 
As a matter of fact, she hadn’t objectively gone that far. It took her only twenty minutes to reach the station on foot, but as the doors opened before her and she took her first steps inside, mixing with the commuters that exited the train, in her mind, she’d well be boarding a ship to America. 
Quickly, Y/n slid inside one of the empty compartments and sat, smoothing her navy skirt in a nervous reflex. Oh, how she wished to sit by the window and gaze at the speeding landscape, but she had to be on the look for any approaching inspectors that could endanger her whole plan. 
As time passed, more people began filling the compartment. Fortunately, most of them were serious looking business people who were too busy reading the newspaper to mind her presence. Normally, she’d attempt to start a conversation, even if it was merely out of restlessness.  But she was too lost in her own thoughts for that. 
Even then, none of what was happening around her felt real. Two months back, Y/n was sitting in her dorm, perhaps reading one of the many photography magazines she secretly owned, and what she was doing now was nothing but a hopeful thought. 
She didn’t know what had finally pushed her to see it as a real possibility rather than the fantasy of a frustrated young girl, but one day she decided enough was enough, and if her parents refused to accept that being a housewife was not her ultimate goal in life, then she was left with no choice but to force them to acknowledge it by living her life on her own terms. 
A relieved smile bloomed on her lips, but it was short-lived as she heard a voice asking each passenger to hand in their ticket a couple of compartments ahead of hers. 
She immediately stood up and, attempting to look calm and collected, Y/n made her escape through the door and rushed down the hall, in the opposite direction of the voice and still unsure on where to go. 
Perhaps she could leave the train when it arrived at the next station?
No. That sounded too much like giving up, and she was fairly sure she hadn’t traveled far enough yet. She didn’t want to get cocky or underestimate the school’s authorities, nor her parents. She was, after all, an underage runaway.
As she turned around once more to make sure she wasn’t being followed, Y/n’s race was cut short when she collided with someone else. 
“Oh, sorry.” she promptly apologized. 
“It’s fine, are you alright?” a male voice replied. She looked up at him and nodded nonchalantly, the first thing about him that she noticed were his eyes, tawny and gentle, with large eyelashes. 
“Are you sure?” He spoke, just as gently and even sounding amused. “You look like you really are in a hurry and...well, I’m quite sure you can’t miss the train and we won’t get to the next station anytime soon.” 
Another set of steps approached them, the voice that accompanied them made Y/n instinctively look back before she tried to squirm around the untimely kind boy standing before her. 
“I’m alright. Excuse me, please.”
But he didn’t move. He pursed his lips thoughtfully and looked in the direction the voice came from before lowering his eyes back at her. It only took one moment for Y/n to realize he knew. However, he smiled mischievously and grabbed her hand before gesturing to the other side of the train. 
“Come on, follow me.”
Y/n didn’t think she had much of a choice. The space was limited, the time was running out and someone with such pretty eyes couldn’t possibly be that bad...right? 
Finally, both of them reached an empty cubicle. 
“Come on, get in.” he whispered and closed the door after her, casually leaning against it, discreetly blocking the view inside as the inspector finally appeared. 
“Ticket, please.” He requested. The boy nodded and took his ticket out. After checking it, the inspector moved as if to enter the compartment.
“Oh, there’s nobody else in there, mister.” he promptly said. “All of my friends went to get coffee a few moments ago, I’m just saving their seats. They must be in the next cart.”
“Is that so? Well, I better go check, then. Have a nice day.” 
The boy nodded his head to return his regards before walking back inside and smiling at the girl before him. 
“Well, that was easier than I thought it would.” 
“Thank you...” Y/n replied trailing off, realizing she didn’t know who she was thanking. “Sorry, I don’t think I got your name.” 
“I’m Paul. And don’t worry, it was nothing.”
“It was, believe me. I’m Y/n.” 
“Pleasure to meet you Y/n.” Paul responded, gifting her with a soft but nevertheless charming smile. 
Y/n just returned the gesture and leaned back on her seat, intertwining her fingers and resting her hands on her lap with a relieved sigh. Although she expected him to leave immediately after, Paul didn’t move. 
“If you don’t mind me asking, how does a girl like you end up traveling alone without a ticket?” 
Y/n hesitated. She wondered whether telling him the whole story was a good idea. A part of her was afraid he’d tell once the word of her escape came around, knowing very well they’d start looking for her the minute they realized she was missing. The sun was starting to slowly rise, meaning the classes would soon begin and since absences were uncommon and promptly looked into, it wouldn’t take long for them to begin the search. 
However, Y/n felt strangely compelled to come clean. He had already helped her no questions asked, and he kept looking at her with true interest and even a bit of concern. Besides, there was something familiar about his face that she couldn’t quite recognize, as if she had seen him before, however impossible that appeared.  Finally, she gave in. 
“I ran away.” she answered “I am -was- a student at Saint Catherine’s. It’s this all-girls Catholic boarding school nearby. My parents enrolled me about two years ago, but I couldn’t stand being there for one more minute.”
“Nuns don’t particularly stand out when it comes to having fun, do they?” he quipped with a lopsided grin. 
“It was madness! No music other than those awful chants, no books that didn’t belong to the syllabus, let alone magazines...no, that was not my place.”
“So you ran away,” he stated, an approving and even gingerly impressed gleam took over his eyes. Y/n pressed her lips together tightly and nodded. 
“So,” she continued, slowly regaining her cheerful disposition. “Business or pleasure?” 
“You could say both, I think.” Paul affirmed, straightening his back with a boyishly smug smirk. “Me and me friends are on our way to play on a television show,” 
“Oh, so you’re in a band?” Y/n replied in awe before pursing her lips and looking down at her hands bashfully “I’d ask if it’s anything I’ve heard, but I’m a little bit out of date on music.” 
“Didn’t you girls find ways to sneak things inside?” he inquired, that playful smile tugging at the edge of his lips again. 
“Of course we did! But they never lasted long. The number of snitches was surprisingly large, and I didn’t want to end up locked inside the chapel praying for forgiveness because of Little Richard.” 
“And how did you wound up there? I thought Saint Catherine’s was for...how do they call them?” he cleared his throat and faked the accent of a grumpy, old man, going as far as curving his lips down and frowning to get in character. “Immoral, misled, no-good hussies.”  
Y/n bursted out laughing at his silly interpretation, covering her mouth with the back of her hand and shaking her head. 
“Well,” she breathed out after her laughter slowly died down. “Wait, so you have heard of Saint Catherine’s?” 
“Sort of. My friend John used to go out with a girl back home. It started to get quite serious until he found out she had her fair share of lads sneaking in and out of her bedroom window. Last thing we knew of her, she was sent to Saint Catherine’s. I can’t remember her name, I just remember she was missing a chunk of her tooth, right here.” Paul pointed to the edge of his front tooth, and Y/n gasped, amused. 
“Oh my god, that’s Chippy Charlie!” 
This time it was Paul who couldn’t help but laugh at the nickname. With that specific detail, there was no way it could’ve been anybody else. He tried to stop snickering, but couldn’t as Y/n continued. 
“She is still the worst! She is the Patron Saint of Snitches of Saint Catherine’s, I swear, it’s like she gets paid for it! I was tempted to pull a prank on her as my parting gift, but she wasn’t worth the unnecessary risk. But, you know, whether a girl is or not a misguided hussy depends a lot on whom you ask. My one-way ticket was telling my parents I only intended to get married after I made it as a photographer, because I’d hate to marry some twat who believes I depend on him for anything at all. And they lost their plot.” 
Paul remained silent, obviously pondering what she had just said as the girl before him intrigued him more and more. When he opened his mouth to reply, a new choir of voices was heard approaching them.
“...know where the bloody hell did he go? I thought I told you to stay together!” 
“Come on, Eppy, aren’t you making a fuss over this? It’s not like Paul could get lost on the train.” A second voice replied with a trace of mockery. 
“And even if he did, I don’t understand why we had to come with you to look for him,” a third voice complained, to which the first one snapped. 
“Because I now know that I can’t leave any of you alone or you’ll just do as you please!” 
“Don’t we do that even when we’re not alone?” 
Paul cursed under his breath and looked over at Y/n.
“Alright, ready to return the favor?” She looked at him questioningly and shook her head, unsure of what he meant. So, he hurried to explain. 
“Just tell them there’s nobody in here but you, alright?” 
Without giving her further explanations, Paul looked around and finally found a spot right next to the door where he could hide, the door itself preventing whoever came in from spotting him. Y/n quickly turned to the window and took the most natural and aloof pose she could think of, until she heard the door being opened and the first voice, which belonged to a suit-clad man in his thirties  with small, worried eyes, addressed her. 
“Sorry to disturb you Miss, but have you seen a young man walking by this cart?” 
“No, I don’t think I have, I’m sorry.” Y/n replied with a soft shrug and an apologetic grin, to which the man nodded understandingly and retreated a bit. 
“Wait, Brian, wouldn’t it be a better idea for us to wait for you in this cart while you look for Paul? After all, we’d hate to slow you down.” the second boy trailing behind him said, smiling flirtatiously at Y/n. However, Brian was having none of it. 
“Of course you’d like that, wouldn't you, John? Come on, let’s go.” 
despite the evident disappointment on his face, John begrudgingly followed until the four men disappeared through the door that led to the following cart.
“Alright, the coast is clear.” Y/n said as Paul left his hiding place and returned to his seat, this time choosing the one next to her. 
“Thanks.” he said, “They’re great but sometimes I need a break from them, you know?” 
“Who were they? Was that the John you mentioned earlier?” Y/n inquired. 
“That’s him. The whole band, really. And Brian, our manager.” 
They remained in silence for a moment, both of them looking out of the window thoughtfully until the first buildings began appearing, silently announcing the end of the train’s journey as it began approaching the city. Y/n felt her stomach flip at the prospect of being alone in such a big place, surrounded by thousands of strangers and having essentially nowhere to go. She hadn't doubted her plan as much as she did right then. 
“So...for how long will you be staying here?” she asked, absentmindedly tapping her fingertips against the cold glass. 
“I don’t know. Perhaps two or three days. We’re on tour so I don’t think we’ll be here for long. What about you?” 
“I don’t know,” she finally replied with a long sigh. “I brought some photographs I took with a smuggled camera with me. It’s the closest thing to a portfolio I’ve got.” 
Shortly after it entered the station, the engine came to a sudden halt. Both of them stood up and made their way out into the hall until they finally reached a door and left the train. 
“Well...it was nice meeting you, Paul.” Y/n said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and looking around with a tense smile, attempting to hide how overwhelming the city truly was to her. 
“Good luck, Y/n.” he replied, returning her smile, with an almost imperceptible glint of sadness in his eyes. She made her way around him and began walking away. However, she hadn’t given ten steps when someone lightly tapped her shoulder. She turned around to find Paul standing before her with a sheepish smile. 
“Hi,” he said, uneasily rubbing the back of his head. “Listen, I was thinking...I might know a couple of people who could help you out. You know, with the photography thing and all that.”
He took a scrap of paper out of his pocket and handed it over to her. The name of a hotel and a room number was scribbled on it. 
“Just call me when you’ve found a place to stay, tell me the address and I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning so you can meet them. If that’s alright with you, I mean.” 
“Really?” Y/n asked, looking at him with wide eyes. He nodded with a soft smile and shrugged dismissively. However, she couldn’t help but tackle him in a hug, throwing her arms around his neck and quickly pecking his cheek when she pulled away. 
“Thank you so much.”
“It’s nothing,” he assured, clearing his throat and scratching the bridge of his nose nonchalantly in an attempt to hide the blush that crept onto his cheeks. “Just...call me, alright?” 
“I will. Until then, see you.” Y/n said with a huge smile across her cheek, hugging him one last time for just one second before pulling away and turning around as fast as she could to keep him from noticing she was equally flustered from the whole ordeal. 
When she was a little bit far, Y/n turned around and waved at him before the crowd engulfed her. 
Somehow, the city didn’t look as big and scary as it did just minutes before. There was just one thing picking on her brain: she was certain she had seen Paul somewhere before. But where? There was no way she could’ve seen him whilst being inside Saint Catherine’s. The only males in there were the boys from the magazines the other girls smuggled in. 
Unless…
Y/n stopped in her tracks and furrowed her eyebrows. Yet, no memory came immediately to her mind, and as the woman behind her loudly cleared her throat to urge her to keep walking, she decided to put it to bed. She’d remember eventually. 
Back at the platform, Paul was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard his name being called from behind. He turned around to find his three bandmates rushing towards him. The shortest one approached him and placed a hand on his back, shoving him forward. 
“Paul, what are you doing here in the open? There’s a crowd coming this way and they’ll skin us alive if we don’t hurry. Bri is waiting for us with a car, come on.”
John looked in the same direction Paul had been gazing at and smirked.
“Alright, who was that?” 
“What? Who? Nobody. Let’s go, we don’t want to keep good old Eppy waiting.”
“Oh, no, we’re not going anywhere until you tell me, so you better hurry.” 
“Just a girl I met on the train. She wants to be a photographer and I told her I’d introduce her to someone who might be able to help her.” 
“Can we talk about this in the car?” Ringo asked again urgently. 
“But Paul, dear, you don’t know any photographers.” John retorted, ignoring Ringo and smirking mockingly. Paul smirked back, feeling more confident and shrugged as he began walking away.  
“Well, Brian must know someone. I’ll just ask him.” 
“And since when did you become Sir Paul McCartney, defender of the helpless?” 
He insisted, following his friend no matter how much he tried to quicken his pace. Paul didn’t reply, and an even wider smile began taking over the other boy’s features. 
“Oh, I see. You fancy her, don’t you?”
“Come off it! I barely know her, we just met.” Paul argued, mentally cursing how easily he was blushing at his bandmate’s words, knowing very well he wouldn’t just let it pass. 
“Alright, alright, but if you do meet her again, say you introduce her to us, your dearest friends, would you mind if I took her out for coffee?” 
As he was just saying this to playfully mess with his friend, John was extremely entertained by Paul’s expression when he turned to look at him. 
“Oh, piss off Lennon.” he muttered before running off to the back of the station to meet Brian. 
“Aye, aye, cap’n!” John exclaimed, laughing loudly before rushing after his friend, the four figures once again making their way across the platform to avoid the inevitable crowd of maniacs that was probably waiting for them at the main exit.  
57 notes · View notes
spotify wrapped is HERE! send me a number 1-100 and I’ll tell you the song it corresponds with on my top 100 playlist
125K notes · View notes
Brian songs: “We’re all crippled by internal existentialist dread-” (guitar solo) “Can you feel the weight of the cosmos pressing down on you? Can you feel the universe’s expectations?” (Choral interlude)
Freddie songs: (piano riff) “All I want is love. Why is that so difficult?” Or, alternatively: (piano riff) “Thou who hast wronged me shall perish by sword”
John songs: (sassy riff) (bongos) “Fuck you”
Roger Songs: “Down with the government.” (Bass slap) “Burn this oppressive regime.” (drum machine interlude) “Better to die standing-” (skkrrt) “-than live on your knees.” (keyboard explosion effect)
7K notes · View notes
i think i speak for just about all content creators when i say that i level up every time someone reblogs my shit and adds nice tags
64K notes · View notes
some fucking resources for all ur writing fuckin needs
body language masterlist
a translator that doesn’t eat ass like google translate does
a reverse dictionary for when ur brain freezes
550 words to say instead of fuckin said
638 character traits for when ur brain freezes again
some more body language help 
258K notes · View notes