#and the last thing i think of before i go to sleep is the beatles | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

honeybrowne · 1 year

Text

Day 1: First Date

AARON HOTCHNER X READER [1.4k]

Content: Sooo much fluff (obvi); first kiss :)

Summary: After numerous failed attempts at finding the right time for a first date, Aaron decides an impromptu one is better than none.

Author's Note: Fluffy February has officially begun! Twirling my hair and kicking my feet i've never wanted to be reader so bad :,(

Masterlist || FF Masterlist

For the last couple of months, you and Aaron have been trying to make plans for a first date, but it always falls through.

His work schedule is hectic and unpredictable, and he's a single father, which means he doesn't have a lot of time for a social life.

You had met at a coffee shop one morning, only because he bumped into you while being distracted by a phone call, spilling your iced coffee all over your white sweater. He had apologized profusely, and his face turned so red you felt guilty for something that wasn't even your fault.

Of course, it wasn't a big deal because it was an accident, and the next time he had seen you at the same coffee shop, he paid for your drink and you gave him your phone number.

You didn't anticipate him to ever use it. Truthfully, you don't even know why you gave it to him in the first place. Sure, he was attractive and polite, but he never made any advances towards you. He had hardly held a conversation as you stood together, waiting for your respective orders to be made.

You hadn't even known his name.

Surprisingly, his text came as you were getting home from work that same day—short, sweet, and to the point: How much do I owe you for the sweater?

Since then, you've been constantly messaging back and forth, talking late into the night when neither of you can sleep, and sometimes falling asleep on the phone together because neither of you want to be the one to hang up. It feels like you're in high school all over again, and there's something about that that makes you smile almost as uncontrollably as he does.

Despite all of that, you haven't spent more than ten minutes with each other in person.

Maybe you're crazy, but you've been okay with that, for the most part. While you'd love to see him for longer and actually have that first date you've desperately been trying to plan, you know where his priorities lie and you'd never want him to change them for someone who just entered his life.

You have no idea where this is headed, but you know for certain that you like him. A lot.

He's funnier than you imagined and has only become sweeter the more you get to know him. He likes to cook even though he doesn't think he's very good at it, loves baking with his son even more, he's a huge fan of The Beatles, and prefers staying in rather than going out.

Everything about him gives you butterflies, and you can't remember the last time someone has made you feel the way he does.

You're currently checking your phone what feels like every five seconds—probably because it is—aware that now is usually the time he gets a break while working. Part of you feels a bit disappointed when thirty minutes passes, but you've known this would always be a possibility. Things happen and he's important. You can handle waiting a bit longer.

The text or call never does come, but a knock at your door does.

It's not an unreasonable hour, however, it is late enough that you're confused by someone being at your door. You aren't expecting any company, and you certainly aren't dressed for any considering you're wearing pajamas and fluffy socks.

The man you have coffee with when you happen to run into each other and spend the majority of your day thinking about is standing right in front of you.

With flowers.

Never in your life have you been so thrilled for unexpected company.

"Aaron," you gasp. "What are you doing here?"

He smiles, something you've wished you could see more often. "I was hoping for more of a hello, or maybe even a hug?"

You take the flowers from him before hugging him tight, not wanting to risk crushing the beautiful bouquet in the process.

He smells delightful, the scent warm and spicy. You take a deep breath, already adoring the way his arms feel wrapped securely around your waist.

"Hi," you whisper, reluctantly pulling away. "Thank you for these, they're beautiful."

"Of course. I'm sorry I'm showing up unannounced; I wanted to surprise you."

It's then that you remember what you're wearing and immediately feel your body warm with embarrassment. "No, it's okay. I'm happy you're here, but I feel bad I'm not more presentable."

"I think you're more presentable now than I've ever seen you," he teases.

"Shut up," you laugh. "Come in, please."

Aaron follows you inside, and you set the flowers up in a vase. Your heart can't help but swell seeing the pink carnations sitting on the middle of the kitchen table.

No one's ever gotten you flowers before.

You had been so distracted by them that you hadn't even noticed the bag of takeout in his hand. It's from the place you told him you liked, and you have a feeling he even remembered which dish was your favorite.

"Would you like something to drink?"

"Water is fine, but I want to talk to you a bit before we eat—if you're even hungry… I should've asked first."

You've already eaten, but he doesn't need to know that.

"That would've ruined the surprise," you smile, "but that sounds perfect."

You feel your pulse quicken as he sets the takeout down and steps closer to you, pausing when he doesn't know whether to keep his hands to himself or pull you to him.

Considering you haven't seen each other in person very much, neither of you has had the chance to be physically affectionate. You've flirted back and forth a few times, and a pet name has slipped from him once, but that's as far as anything has gotten. You know you both enjoy the other's company in any way you can have it, but this is all new.

Very new.

It doesn't help that Aaron hasn't been in a relationship in a long time, and you're somewhat inexperienced. Neither of you are the type to date around and prefer things that are more serious rather than casual.

You both want exclusivity and commitment.

"How was your trip?" you ask, taking the initiative and wrapping your arms around him.

He sighs, and it almost sounds like one of relief. "It wasn't bad but it wasn't necessarily good either," he shrugs.

"What made you decide to come here?"

"Well, as much as I enjoy our phone calls, I really wanted to see you tonight instead," he confesses. "I was thinking we could watch a movie if you're in the mood for it."

"Absolutely I am," you promise, holding him tighter.

His body feels so warm, and he looks unbelievably handsome with his hair slightly disheveled. You want to kiss him—you have for a while, but you've never had the chance to. He seems to feel the same way, his eyes flicking back and forth between yours and your lips.

"Good. I promise I'll take you on a real first date one day." He leans in as he speaks, his hands rubbing your lower back.

"I don't know about you, but takeout and a movie with you sounds like the perfect first date to me."

Aaron smiles, cupping your cheek gently. "I'm glad you think so."

You start to stand on your toes to make up for the height difference, and he meets you halfway by leaning even further, his mouth so close to yours you can feel his breath. He's the one who bridges the gap, touching his lips to yours so delicately you think he hasn't completely made up his mind about kissing you yet.

He backs away ever so slightly, just enough to look at your face, and he can see your pout.

"What?"

There's a bit of nervousness hidden behind the playfulness in his voice, and you have every intention of letting him know exactly what you want.

You bring him in for another kiss, fingers curling into his hair at the back of his head. The arm he has around you brings you impossibly closer to him, his thumb rubbing along your cheekbone. It's perfect, and you feel like you could explode as he kisses you harder, his nose pressing into your cheek.

Neither of you wants to pull away, but breathing takes precedence. You almost feel lightheaded, completely in a daze as you look at him.

"Didn't know you were the type to kiss on the first date."

You laugh, feeling euphoric in every sense of the word. "I didn't think you were either."

He chuckles softly and leans in again. "I guess we're both each other's exception."

Taglist: @spacecowboyhotch

#doctorstethsfluffyfeb #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x gn!reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #.writing

155 notes · View notes

sounwise · 2 years

Text

“Inner Beatle Secrets: From Paul” (interview with Alan Freeman in Rave Magazine, April 1966 issue)

[Full transcript beneath the cut:]

No doubt, pop-pickers, millions of you would flip at an opportunity to entertain Paul McCartney in your home for a few hours. Well, if you ever do, take my tip . . . move the piano out first. Because Paul makes straight for it the way other people head for a good-looking chick.

“You eat, sleep and dream on it, don’t you?” I said. Paul grinned and rippled out another string of tuneful thoughts, the melody just growing from his fingers. Then he tried it over again, this time adding a jumping bass pattern that suddenly brought the whole thing to life. He stopped halfway through.

“That’s all I’ve got so far,” he said. “I must work on that a bit more.”

It took me half-an-hour to get Paul away from the keyboard and sit down and relax. I could see why the Beatles rarely run short of great new numbers. If someone invented a way of composing in your sleep, McCartney would be on to it like a shot.

It was nearly a year since I’d had a Heart-to-Heart with Paul, here in the same room at my London apartment. We’d met often since then, of course, on shows and in TV studios. But now, with a rare day free just to laze around and sip a long drink and chat about whatever came into his mind, you could see a big change in him.

In the old days Paul, like a lot of genuinely sensitive and creative people, used to cover up a little under a dry, wise-cracking front. Today he’s fizzing like a firework with all sorts of thoughts and theories about music, films, books and art.

People used to ask, “What happens when the time comes that the Beatles break up and go their own ways?” I don’t think we need to worry. I reckon their individual talents are possibly even greater than their achievements as a group. Even if the Beatles had never made a single disc, the Lennon-McCartney songs would have been a glowing milestone in pop anyhow.

So, if you don’t mind, Beatle-diggers, this is Paul the person talking of his ideas, his discoveries as his mind matures and the mad, hurtling pace of the world’s idols steadies down to a saner rhythm.

The phone rang outside, but I wasn’t letting anybody cut in on this revealing session with Paul. “No calls for the next hour, no matter what,” I said to Carolina, my secretary.

And Paul began to talk.

“It’s hard to know whether the Beatles have changed much in the past year as the public sees them,” he said. “But I know we have. I know I have, as a personal, internal change. I don’t mean things like getting the M.B.E. I think after the first couple of weeks we forgot about that.

“I’d say the really big change is in our tastes, in finding out about things we didn’t know before. For instance, George spends all his time now, listening to Indian music. He’s joined the Asian Music Circle. He’s really serious about it, too. It started when he got a cithar [sic]—the Indian instrument we used on ‘Norwegian Wood’.

“It’s the same with all of us. We’ve all got interested in things that just never used to occur to us. I’ve got thousands, millions, of new ideas myself. What I really want to do now is to see whether I could write all the music for a film. Not just to write tunes, but the music of the film itself.

“I want to read a lot more than I do. It annoys me that so many million books came out last year and I only read twenty of them. It’s a drag.

“What I’m reading at the moment is everything I can get on the assassination of President Kennedy . . . all the evidence, all the reports. I’m convinced that the real truth about that hasn’t come out. And I’m reading a French writer—Jarry. He’s great, weird.

“I’m reading plays like mad, too, I don’t know if I’ll ever want to write one. But there are so many things I’d like to have a try at.

“Painting. I’ve done quite a bit and I enjoy it. I’d like to do a lot more, find out if I might have a talent for that.”

Caroline brought in tea and passed the cups. “Paul,” I said, “how would you say all these new interests of yours might affect the Beatles’ music?”

He grinned, stirring his tea. “Well, if you mean are people frightened that we might suddenly go all sober or play stuff like Mantovani, they needn’t worry about that. We’ve got no intention of trying to rehash old things. The whole point is that we’re learning about new things all the time.

“Like doing ‘Yesterday’ with the string quartet instead of the big sweeping orchestra, which was the old way. But it would be a pity if we change the way which we think is better but everybody else doesn’t. It’d be a pity—but that’s the only way we’ve ever worked.

“We’ve only made the records which we think are good, and that’s the only standard we’ve ever gone by. Eventually we may get a bit too way-out. I hope not, but I don’t know.”

I pointed to the stack of newly released discs standing by the record player and said, “But if you go through those, for example, everyone can see that pop music is getting more and more way-out. People are going for it, all the same.”

Paul nodded. “Yes, to some extent it is. But there are still too many groups who are trying just to keep up. That’s no good. That’s what makes the whole pop thing dull in the end. You ought to be able to move on a bit further with every record, like The Who.

“And what’s more, they’ve got every chance. The equipment in most British recording studios is much better than it is in the States. But there’s some extra bit they get to the sound over there that we haven’t quite got. I don’t know what it is yet, but you get the sensation of that little bit more. The Stones always tell us we’d be better if we recorded in the States, but we never have. We probably will eventually.

“You put a record of ours with an American record and don’t alter the volume, and you’ll find the American record is always that fraction louder. And it has a lucid something I can’t explain. Funny, because as I say, I believe we’re technically better in Britain.”

Paul shrugged. But he had the contented look of a young man who has just come up with something else to investigate and find out about.

There must be many a group starting out now who are spurred along by visions of what life at the top must be like when you finally get up there in the Beatles class. But Paul said that although you obviously pick up the luxuries, you also discover that you’re going short of a lot of things that less successful people have more time to enjoy.

“I suddenly realised that because of the Beatles, as far as my own life was concerned, I’d got in a very severe sort of rut. And we all had, because we all just seemed to be working only towards trying to get pop things done. And we saw that obviously we must have missed out on quite a few things.”

He grinned and nodded towards the piano in the corner. “Only the other day I was working out a number and I stopped and thought, ‘What a drag. I’m twenty-three and I’ve never learned to read music.’ And I found I was thinking to myself as if I was finished. So I said, ‘Why don’t I?’ And now I’m doing it.

“Sooner or later it hits you that the average span of the British male is seventy-five years and you’ve had more than twenty of them, so you better make the most of what’s left. Then the brain starts working, and John and I rush out and buy loads of books.

“I’m lazy, but I don’t like myself being lazy. So the only way out is to do something about it. Like I made myself listen to classical records, though nobody in our house ever liked them. When one came on they’d just turn it off. But I thought, ‘I’d better sort this out for myself and see whether I like it or not.’

“And in fact I don’t like a lot of it. It’s too fruity and sentimental. But from that you get on to what the modern composers are doing. And it’s suddenly great, because you discover that there are all these things going on.

“Then I play them to John and he says, ‘What a drag—all these millions of records coming out all the time and we’ve not been getting on to them.’ Then we rush out and buy loads of modern compositions.

“The only thing to do is to listen to everything and then make up your mind about it.”

And that’s the best advice you’ll ever get on this planet, friends. Because it works, not just in the world of music, but in every profession they ever invented. I know people with no special gifts who’ve made fortunes just by listening. Not eavesdropping . . . listening. And when you know, then you can really start moving.

Paul shares with Pete Townshend of The Who a taste for the music of Stockhausen, one of the modern German composers. “His ideas are fantastic. It’s the farthest-out music yet. He uses electronic stuff that nobody else has got round to. And his records are listed under the classical section in the catalogues. So if you’ve got it in your head that you don’t dig classical music, look what you’re shutting out.”

He shook his head. “You can’t go putting music into little categories like serious and Merseybeat and so on. The great thing is that it’s music, whatever label they try to stick on it.”

Paul said with quiet intensity, “You see, you’re going to have trouble getting but unless you have fairly solid opinions on things. You live in a muddle. as soon as I noticed myself saying ‘I don’t know’ I thought, ‘Well, you’ll have to try. Why don’t I know?’ Unless you get at it, by the time you do find out you’ll be ready to die.”

The Beatles have obviously been the single influence on pop for decades. But Paul admitted that this influence would never have come about if he, John, George and Ringo hadn’t been excited and stimulated by other people’s thoughts and ideas.

“The whole thing is about trying to contact people all the time. And with everything . . . plays, books, music. Even cooking. Anything that breaks down any kind of barrier and lets you get through to another human being . . . that’s it, that’s what valuable, that’s what matters.

“I think that’s why the whole being-English explosion has been such a success in America and everywhere else. It’s a genuine effort, and it’s working. Everybody in England has suddenly got just a little bit more interested in everything and everyone else. Britain has just climbed up on to another level, and it’s a wonderful thing.

“You ought to hear the people who come over here, the ones we talk to. They’re knocked out, because the idea they had of England before was just ridiculous. They believe the whole bowler-hat thing, thought the English were very reserved and very cold. When they go to a few parties and see what we’re really like, they’re amazed.

“Oh, sure, there’s been a change in us, all of us. But there’s a lot of people who’re still apathetic, who’ve got one fixed opinion. You know, the kind who say ‘I just like pop music or rhythm-and-blues or Edmundo Ros and don’t ever tell me about anything else because I don’t want to know’. They’re still scared to lay themselves open to any new influence. And they stay in the don’t-know rut for ever.

“As far as the Beatles are concerned, we can’t just stop where we are or there’s nothing left to do. We can go on trying to make popular records and it can get dead dull if we’re not trying to expand at all and move on into other things. Unless you’re careful you can be successful and unsuccessful at the same time.”

The next the Beatles do a television film, Paul said, they want to use many more of their own ideas instead of leaving it to the network’s camera crews. “The one they did while we were in America could have been so much better. It needed just that little extra bit of imagination.

“Instead of getting someone in to do the music and the sounds, we’d like to do it ourselves. Spend a long time on it and really work at it.

“We’re getting something that’ll really give us some experience with mixing up sound and film in that sort of way. It’s a gift Capitol Records gave us in the States, and it’s the greatest little present event.

“It’s a television recorder. You just plug it into your set and you record the programme straight off, just like on to a tape. You can record the BBC while you’re watching ITV and show the film on your telly at one o’clock in the morning if you want to. They said we’ll be the first people in England to have them.

“So what we’re going to do when they come is go out and shoot film, weird shapes and patterns and light, and record special weird music to go with it and then come back and play it at home on the television. And we’ll be able to find out what works and what doesn’t, so that when we do a proper full-scale film we’ll know exactly what to put in it.”

The telephone shrilled in the other room. I looked at my watch. Our quiet hour had ended. “It’s Brian Epstein’s office for Paul,” said Caroline.

If you’re a Beatle, the world doesn’t leave you alone for long. While Paul was on the phone, the chauffeur arrived to pick him up for another business meeting. And for another while at least, all the schemes would have to wait while Paul the person made way for Paul the star.

As we shook hands on his way out, I wondered how far he would have carried his plans, what new excitements would be gripping him, the next time we have the chance of a Heart-to-Heart. More than likely, he would have come in from the bachelor cold by then and followed the other Beatles into marriage.

One thing for sure, I thought. No kid of Paul McCartney’s will turn out to be a don’t-know.

I looked at the piano guiltily as the lift hummed down to the ground floor. After all this time, I should be able to play that machine with the best of them. Why can’t I? I sat down and got a little chord shape going.

“Alan,” said Caroline around the door. “Fred Thing wants to know if you can come over.”

One note out in the bass somewhere—that’s got it.

“Tell him I’d love to,” I said. “But I can’t now. I’m working on an idea.”

Till next month—stay bright!

#i had to request this issue from a research library on the other side of the country...! shoutout to librarians forever #paul mccartney #alan freeman #rave magazine #the beatles #transcript #1966 #scans

248 notes · View notes

harrisongslimited · 1 month

Text

George Chapter of the Day #6

I Saw Her Standing There

Trigger Warnings: swearing, adult situations, bullying

Chapter 6

"Where the hell have you been?" Allison greeted her.

"Staying with friends," Joie answered flatly.

"We are supposed to stick together you know," Allison reprimanded.

Joie just smiled. "Well, I'll be staying with some friends periodically. As a matter of fact, we can speak to the chaperone and maybe get you a new roommate."

"Hell no," she shot back. "I like having my own room. I'm gonna land me a Beatle if it's the last thing I do."

"Is that why you came here? To sleep with one of the Beatles?"

Allison waved a hand at her. "Why do you think any of these girls wanted to come? What are you? Stupid? Why the hell did you come?"

"Frankly, to see London..." Joie admitted, then threw in for good measure "and to see some old friends."

"Well have fun, roomie," she said. "I've got a plan I need to work on."

"So who are you after? John? Paul? George, Ringo?"

Allison threw her long blonde hair over her shoulder. "Doesn't matter, does it?"

Joie followed her a moment. "But Allison, they have lives, girlfriends...wives!"

Allison forced a wicked smile and repeated, "Doesn't matter...does it?"

Joie watched her as she followed the group of girls into a dressing room. She was totally out of her element. Yes, she found Paul attractive but it wouldn't go any farther than that. And then peeking in her mind was George. What she felt for him was....was....well, she didn't know what exactly, but she would never try to sleep with any of them. Truth be told, she wasn't ready to sleep with anyone. The farthest she and Charlie got was her battling him to stop trying to unzip her pants. He finally gave up and started dating Sheila Mattes, who boasted about helping boys unzip her pants.

Joie wanted to be in love. She wanted her first time to be something special...not just a quick grope in the back seat of a car during a drive in movie. She wanted flowers and romance and a loving courtship. Like in the romance novels she read or love stories she watched at the movies. Someone to take her away. Someone who would love Jordan and watch football with her dad.

She knew that boy was somewhere. She just needed to be smart and patient. Apparently, very patient.

..........

Victoria Brown was the woman who would show them the ropes at the studio. From what Joie could tell, it would be a lot of standing around, then some running after the boys, then a little screaming. Simple. Except that girls were disappearing at an alarming rate. "Wandering off" they called it. Victoria Brown knew they were trying to get to the Beatles and Victoria also knew the Beatles' wouldn't mind a quick one in the loo before a scene.

They were all instructed as to what to wear, where makeup was, where they were supposed to report and when. It was like a cattle call to Joie, but she didn't care. It was all new to her. Some of these other girls had actually been in movies that had been produced by their fathers, so it was old hat to them. But Joie was amazed at the organization.

By 3:30 they were done. Tuesday was going to be a free day and then Wednesday, they were going to start shooting "B" shots of the girls running, standing...waiting for the Beatles. The last scene, in about 4 weeks, was the concert. Joie couldn't wait for that.

She was getting ready to board the bus to go to the hotel when Victoria pulled her out of line. She instructed the bus driver to leave. Seems Joie was going to have a special driver of her own.

Part of her hoped it was Paul, but another part of her said it wasn't a good idea. She went back into the cavernous studio with Victoria and was told to wait in a small back studio.

And wait she did.

And waited. And waited.

Nothing.

She heard people milling around and finally a man came in questioning why she was there. Joie told him she asked to wait here. She showed him the note Victoria had given her. It said simply, "Wait for me in Studio B, Paul."

The man laughed. "You've been had little one," he said. "Someone pulled a trick on you."

Joie didn't know if she should tell the man that Paul had actually brought her to the studio in the morning...but decided against it. Why embarrass herself further? The man probably wouldn't believe her anyway. So this, apparently, was the way little rich Hollywood girls have their fun and games. Well, fuck you and the horse you rode in on. Their bullshit bothered her as much as a 70° day.

"Can you tell me how I can get a taxi?"

"Where are you going?"

Joie had to think. To Freda's? To the hotel?

She decided on the hotel. It was the easiest place to get to. "Shepparton Inn," she told him.

"I'll drive you."

"That's ok," Joie told him, not wanting to get into the car with a stranger. "I'll manage with a taxi."

The man shook his head. "Look, my name is Dick Lester. I'm directing this movie and I'm safe to get into a car with. Who the hell are you anyway?"

All Joie told him was that she was from California and hired as one of the extras. She added that she had gotten separated from her group.

"I think the group separated you from the sound of that note," he said gently.

She felt foolish and small. All she could think of is going back home and thoughts of home made her weepy. But she wasn't going to cry in front of a stranger. She fought and fought until tears welled in the corner of her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she told him. "I'm just a long way from home."

"For the first time?"

Joie nodded and blinked furiously to dry her tears. She took a deep breath.

"Look," he said sitting down before her. "go your own way. These other girls just want to bang a Beatle and go home. Probably some of them will. Others will make up stories that they did. Just go your own way and you'll be fine."

Joie took another breath and finally smiled. "Thanks Mr. Lester. That really helped."

"And I'll get my assistant to get you a taxi..."

"Thanks again."

"No problem. My pleasure. And don't let those other girls get to you."

"I won't."

Joie waited by the studio gate for a taxi, still not sure of where she was going. She had no way of getting a hold of Freda, who was probably at Brian's office, but Joie didn't know the phone number. The safest bet was to go to the hotel and call Freda later to let her know where she was.

She only waited a few moments when a green mini cooper pulled up beside her inside the gate.

"Need a ride?"

It was George, his dark eyes shining bright as he looked into hers.

Joie smiled in recognition. "You have no idea...."

Joie climbed into the passenger's side and George noticed she seemed to be a bit weepy. "I didn't know where to go."

"Just go to Freda's if anything ever happens or call Brian's office. I'll give you the number to ring."

Joie proceeded to tell him how the girls had tricked her with a note from Paul. And how she thought the note was really from Paul since he had picked her up.

George knew that the note was probably meant to do exactly what it did -- embarrass Joie, with a hug and kiss from the jealous extras in the peanut gallery, but he remained mute.

"How about dinner?" George suddenly asked. "there's a restaurant by our place where we won't be bothered."

"Our place?"

"Ringo's and mine. We live together for now until we find our own places. I'm looking out towards Esher. Ringo likes living in town."

"Is Esher far?"

"An hour outside London," he explained. "Not too far from John and Cyn's."

"We'll stop by my house to see if Ringo wants to come with us. Maybe Mo too."

#the beatles #beatles #george harrison #beatles fanfiction #i saw her standing there #john lennon #paul mccartney #ringo starr #ahdn 1964 #george harrison fanfic #george chapter of the day #fan fic writing #writing on tumblr #writing

9 notes · View notes

tellthemeerkatsitsfine · 2 months

Text

So, I weirdly haven’t written enough about this on this blog so far, given what a big thing it is for me – I’m going to the fucking UK this summer. For real this time. For real. Here is a post about it.

I first posted on this blog about wanting to go to the UK in early 2021, I think. I remember making posts about how maybe once the vaccines were finally released, and I was all vaccinated, travel would be safe, and I could go for a little while before I start my college courses again. That didn’t happen for quite a few reasons.

I spent much of 2021 planning a hypothetical trip, knowing it probably couldn’t really happen, because obviously things like this don’t really happen, but I needed something to fantasize about in the depths of lockdown. It’s odd that a global pandemic made me interested in international travel for the first time. Pre-COVID, my life was so full of a single sport that I didn’t really have time to think about anything else as a hobby. I was on the road most weekends, but that road was the 401, driving off to the same few cities anywhere from two to twelve hours away, to sleep in a cheap hotel or on someone’s gym floor and then shout at teenagers at day and immediately drive home. Every once in a while we’d go to a tournament in the States, which counted as exciting international travel. The idea of actually seeing places that are not in or near the border with my country just hadn’t occurred to me.

Then the world ended, I fell deep into the Britcom rabbit hole, all that stuff. And in 2021, I got really into 1) memorizing how to label all the countries and major cities in the world, and all the counties or other regional areas in the UK and Ireland, on a blank map, because I’d learned that the larger world existed and I wanted to be clear about where it all is, and 2) going through places I’ve never been on Google Earth, usually while listening to audio comedy. I also took to looking up things to do in the UK on Trip Advisor, mapping the route on Google Maps and following it on Google Earth, knowing this was all for a hypothetical fantasy trip but still researching things like train fares and schedules because it was more fun if it felt like it could be real.

I’m fascinated by the idea of places that are Different From Here being actual real physical places where people could actually go. Which is especially weird in this case because I actually have been to the UK. I have a godmother there, whom I’ve met in person three times, twice when she’s come to Canada and once when for my sixteenth birthday she paid for my mother and I to go to England for a week. We stayed at her place in London, did all the tourist-y things, also spent a day in some spot in Somerset but I’m fuzzy on where or why, it was 2006. My clearest memory of the week is seeing Spamalot on St. Patrick’s Day and thinking it was the coolest thing ever. I’ve also got fairly clear memories of climbing stairs at St. Paul’s Cathedral, thinking Westminster Abbey was the most beautiful building I’d ever seen, and seeing some extremely cool stuff at the British Library including some original handwritten Beatles lyrics. And I remember the tube and being impressed that the cars really do have driver doors on the wrong side, that’s not just a thing they made up on Fawlty Towers.

Still, it was so long ago, and it was such a short time compared to the amount of time that I’ve spent watching Britian on TV, that it does feel a bit like Britain is a fictional place that exists on TV. Obviously I realize that’s a very ignorant North American thing for me to say, and in my defense I think I know a hell of a lot more about Britain than the average ignorant North American. I can label all the regions in England, Scotland, Ireland, and Wales in under five minutes. But I’ve got to admit, on a visceral level, learning all that stuff does feel a bit like memorizing lore in a fantasy novel.

There is kind of an appeal in the idea that… okay, the last time I was this obsessed with something besides a sport in which I actually participated, I was a kid in the Harry Potter fandom. I was a kid who read a lot of books, and a lot of my favourites happened to be British fantasy or sci-fi novels (Harry Potter, CS Lewis, Tolkein, His Dark Materials, Douglas Adams), but Harry Potter was the one that took over my life from the ages of about ten to fourteen. You classic situation of – didn’t have friends in real life, all my social interaction came from Harry Potter message boards, a vast chunk of my free time dedicated to reading every passage of the books over and over and over and analyzing them and writing things about them and I made some friends on the internet who loved Luna Lovegood as much as I did. Then I got to high school and started wrestling and made some friends in real life and slowly moved away from online fandom, didn’t do anything except that for fifteen years, then the world ended, I came back and found a new online fandom that was also British but had less magic and more panel shows, then the author turned out to be a terrible person and ruined my childhood.

Anyway. The point is that I remember when I was a kid, obviously I spent ages fantasizing about being able to actually go to all those places in Harry Potter. But I couldn’t, because those are not real places. Well, my new foray into fandom also feels a bit like that – like this fictional thing I’ve got obsessed with that no one around me knows anything about but some people on the internet are into it. Except that this time, the place where all these things happen is actually a real place, and I can pay money to go there. This concept remains amazing to me.

So I mapped out the idea of this trip a couple of years ago, and for a long time, it stayed in a limbo between fantasy and genuine possibility. I did actually start working out budgets and putting money aside for it, but all the while thinking this won’t actually work. I was starting to do things post-lockdown again, the sense that we were all locked down so nothing is real so I may as well engaged in some escapism and plan some fantasy trips – that started to give way to regular life, and in regular life, I’m not a person who does shit like that. I can’t just fly across the ocean to see a fictional place. I still had it vaguely in my head that maybe someday I’d like to, but I stopped actively planning anything.

But at the same time, the whole concept of Britain was starting to feel a bit less fictional (I’m… I’m feeling the need to clarify, again, that this is just a sort of emotional automatic response to put “the place where Britcom happens” in the “fictional” category in my brain… I did not at any point genuinely think the United Kingdom was fictional… especially since I’ve been there before). I do remember the first time I got physical, tangible proof that the people in the fictional Britcom world are real, when Russell Howard came to my city in March 2022 (my then-girlfriend got us tickets because she knew I liked British comedians, she was excited about it so I didn’t tell her that actually I’m mad at him for the Jordan Peterson apologism so don’t want to go, it’s not something I’d have chosen myself but it was a thoughtful gift and to be fair an extremely fun night), and I could not get over the idea that the man from the fictional place was here in real life displacing air like he’s a real human being and actually all of it is physically real. Over the next few months I did an 8.5-hour drive to New York City to see Nish Kumar, and then two months later a 2-hour drive to see him do the same show in Montreal, because it was that fucking great a show. I also saw James Acaster in Montreal, and a club night with Dara O’Briain and Fern Brady and Phil Wang and Tom Allen and Sindhu Vee and every single one of them was an actual real person breathing the same air as me. Before the show I saw Dara O’Briain on the street and was so shocked that I hit my mother too hard to show her and she jumped and the commotion attracted his attention and I didn’t know what to do except stare at him like he was a zoo animal until he smiled awkwardly at me and went on his way.

Things like this did rather renew my interest in a trip, not just for the novelty of seeing a place that feels fictional, but for the more practical purposes of seeing my favourite comedians live. My interests within Britcom were starting to shift significantly toward stand-up, I got obsessed for a while with learning everything about the history of the Edinburgh Festival in the 21st Century, it seemed like another world, the time of the Chocolate Milk Gang and 24-hour shows from the early 00s, but then I watched videos on the internet that were filmed at the 2022 Edinburgh Festival and realized this place is actually real and still happening now and it is technically possible to go there.

After that, the concept rapidly became de-fictionalized in my mind when I sent someone a message on a comedy forum, in the hopes of finding a few comedy recordings that I heard existed, and by complete coincidence stumbled upon the best person I possibly could have. I’d thought worst case scenario is he doesn’t reply and I will be left to assume he saw my message and considered it horribly rude, great scenario is he has a few things I’m asking for, amazing best case scenario is maybe he has lots of stuff and is willing to share. As it happened, I got the best case scenario, plus far more than that. Specifically, a the coolest fucking person I could possibly have found, as a new friend, direct interaction that made all of this seem a hell of a lot less fictional very, very fast. He said things like “So are you ever going to come out here and actually see this stuff yourself”, and I said things like “Obviously I have plotted a route and looked up train fares but don’t be silly, that was just the stuff of lockdown-induced dreams.”

I quickly started planning things more seriously, but at the same time, the editing work I’d been doing started drying up, I had a bit of a financial crisis where I became concerned that I’d be unable to pay rent, and couldn’t save for a trip. I followed the 2023 Edinburgh Festival from afar, from NextUp streams and hearing stories about it from a friend who actually went there and sent me pictures, which was so fucking cool, and it was all so very very real.

I got a new job, this one much harder because it involves leaving the house all day for five days a week, but also it’s much more stable than the editing work I did for all of lockdowns, and I was able to start saving money in the second half of 2023. I learned that the place where I work shuts down for the last week of July, and the Monday of the following week is a holiday. So I put in a request for just four days off, the Tuesday-Friday, to create a two-week holiday. One week in London at the end of July, and one week in Edinburgh during the first week of the Edinburgh Festival.

The time off got approved (barely, I was told I can’t book any other vacation time in 2024, but I got it) in late 2023, and it was so exciting, and that’s the first time it started to feel even a little bit real. Then I booked an Air B&B for the week in Edinburgh, because it’s my understanding that accommodation availability and prices are a huge issue there and you want to book early. I think I did well, though. Found a place that’s not cheap but not unfeasibly expensive, I can have my own room and it’s a 50-minute walk or 10-minute bus from Edinburgh city centre. It was so exciting to book the place, put some money down, finally have something on the books for sure. Though I did triple check that it’s fully refundable if I cancel up until pretty much the day before, just in case something goes wrong.

I booked the flights over Christmas. They weren’t cheap, but I was able to afford them without destroying my ability to pay rent, because it turns out there is a reason why I put myself through human interaction for 8-10 hours five days a week. I did pay an extra fee to give myself the ability to pay another fee and cancel them, because still, it felt like I can’t be totally sure this will actually work. But that was a big commitment.

And that’s pretty well the main things sorted out. I still have to book a whole lot of train tickets, but I have the flights. I have the time off work. I have the Edinburgh accommodation. I have accommodation in London, because the absolute coolest person I could possibly come across on a comedy message board has a spare room, and is extremely kind and generous with his time and space, and I’ve said some pretty disparaging things about that message board before (based on some quite bad threads from like fifteen years ago, that I spent weeks reading in their entirety because, you know, autism), and I would like to take them all back.

Now they’ve announced the first bunch of acts at the 2024 Edinburgh Festival, and I’ve been going through picking out which ones look most interesting to me, and for maybe the first time, it’s finally feeling completely, entirely real. This is happening. For real this time. I am going through an Edinburgh Festival catalogue not just to take screenshots of the most interesting blurbs so I can save them in a folder and/or post them on my blog to say here’s an interesting piece of history. I am going through it to pick what shows I wish to see.

So here’s my plan, that I’m writing because I now feel confident that I think it’s actually going to happen. Obviously I have a spreadsheet with various tabs, and a KMZ file so I can open Google Earth with all the places I might potentially want to see already marked. I have been planning this trip for years. I have two weeks in the UK, and I don’t want to waste a single second. I want to make sure all that time spent planning comes to something, because as a fundamental part of my personality, I have always believed that there is a level of planning you can do to guarantee that everything goes right. This belief has been proven wrong time and time again, but I’ve never tried something with this much planning beforehand, so surely this time it’ll work. No taking a chance on some tourist attraction that might turn out to be shit, because I’ll have looked at it all on Google Earth beforehand and ranked things in order of how cool they look.

I have organized my spreadsheet into seven tabs: overview, plan by day, places to eat, things to see London, in Edinburgh, in Cambridge, and things to pack. I have organized each “things to see” tab into three sections: things I want to see for reasons related to general tourism, things I want to see for reasons related to comedy, and things I want to see for reasons related to Harry Potter. I apologize for the latter, and obviously I will not be doing anything that would give revenue to JK Rowling. But nothing JK Rowling can say in the 2020s will change my childhood, and I need to spend some amount of time indulging my childhood dreams of running around fancy buildings feeling like I’m in a magical British land.

London, tourism: pretty straightforward. Westminster Abbey and St. Paul’s Cathedral are on the list, because I remember how cool they were last time, and because for some reason when I stopped being Christian at age 16 I did not also get rid of my awe at fancy churches. I want to see Parliament and related areas, I want to try to get a picture of the Number 10 door as seen in Yes Minister. I want to see some bridges. Take a cable car across a river. Go look at Douglas Adams in Highgate Cemetery (I realize there are more famous people than Douglas Adams there, I’d like to see them too, but mainly Douglas Adams). Go see what The British Library has going on while I’m there. There are too many pubs on the list given the fact that I’m currently trying to stop drinking, I am going to cut some of those pubs off the list and I’m just trying to decide which ones, but I really love a good pub and the ones in London look so cool and even if I can’t have a pint I want to sit there in the atmosphere and have a burger or some shit.

Harry Potter tour of London is simple. Obviously I want to go look at King’s Cross Station, I did it when I was 16 and it was so fucking cool, I don’t care how stupid that is. Otherwise, I’ve looked up three different areas that were used in filming Diagon Alley, and according to Google Earth, seem like the do sort of look like Diagon Alley-like places. That’s what’s interesting to me. I’m not really interested in places where the movies just happened to be filmed (the movies were fine, I’ve seen them a couple of times each, but it was the books that I read until I had them nearly memorized), I want to see places that look like they could be where the books were actually set. And Goodwin’s Court appears to look like where Harry Potter could have actually been set. So I’ve made an appointment to go walk down a road.

For the comedy-related locations in London, there are a few venues I want to see. Ideally while something’s playing in them, but even if there’s nothing I’m interested in at the Soho Theatre while I’m there, I’d still want to go in and just see the building, after the all the shows I’ve seen and heard that were recorded there. Same with The Bill Murray. Battersea Arts Centre. I also wish to make a pilgrimage to the bit of Regent’s Park where Daniel Kitson’s done some of the most landmark nights of comedy in the last twenty years. Obviously I want to go stand outside the gates to the Taskmaster house and see just how close it is to that golf course. (There will also be a few hours of the itinerary where I might just leave some of the details blank, no need to get too much into what I want to see there, it’s in my spreadsheet as just “Crystal Palace”, and I will say that if you don’t want people to go look at a place where you used to live, don’t make your address the title of your theatre show – I need to stress again, just so we’re clear about what level of creepiness I’m talking about here, it is a former address, not anywhere that anyone significant lives now or has lived for the last fifteen years, it's just the subject of comedy stories that are now long in the past, as are various surrounding landmarks, it’s archaeology.)

Now, in Edinburgh I’ve put a lot fewer things on the itinerary, because I want to leave most of my time for going to see comedy shows. And going to see a couple of music shows, because that first wave of events they’ve announced includes a couple of traditional Scottish music things that I am so excited about, it’s going to be mostly comedy but I do want to do that as well. Celtic music, Harry Potter, British comedy – all the biggest special interests of my life besides the one where you beat people up, all easy to access at this festival (I mean, technically Edinburgh has something called wrestling too, but it’s best if I don’t hear anyone try to compare the Max + Ivan wrestling to the sport that I do).

I do want to climb Arthur’s Seat, because I’ve done it about a hundred times in Google Earth so I just have to do it in real life. When Mark Watson released his book last year, I got the signed and dedicated version and he said we can tell him about a problem we have for him to solve in the dedication. I said my problem is I’m going to London and Edinburgh next year and need advice on where to go, he said I should climb Scott’s Monument. Even though my levels of respect for Mark Watson have dropped significantly since that book actually came out, I am still going to climb Scott’s Monument because Mark Watson told me to.

Similarly, this extremely kind and cool person I know recently got the chance to get me an autographed copy of Tim Key’s new book (which I unfortunately won’t get until I go to London and pick it up in person, but it looks great), where he also asked Tim to give me some advice for my trip. Tim Key said to go to Mosque Kitchen, and Indian restaurant in Edinburgh, so I’m doing that. Oh, and while I’m in London I have to go to a place called Kebab Kid, because it’s Nish Kumar’s favourite shawarma place in England, which I know because I know a guy who could just walk up to Nish Kumar after one of his gigs and ask him what his favourite shawarma place is. Have I mentioned how fucking cool this is?

Anyway. That’s the extent of my interest in Edinburgh tourism, mainly. I mean, if I were going when the festival weren’t on, there would be plenty of other stuff I want to see. But I don’t want to take time away from festival events. I might do the castle. The castle’s probably cool. I definitely want to walk up that hill, as I’ve done many times on Google Earth, and look at the castle. Whether I pay to go inside will depend if there’s a hole in the comedy schedule, I guess.

In the Edinburgh – Harry Potter section, I have a few things. Greyfriar’s Kirkyard, the graveyard with the story about the dog that’s probably bullshit (I mean, it happened, but I think someone was just feeding that dog) but the story about how it inspired Harry Potter character names that’s true. Go get a picture of Tom Riddle’s grave. I’ve marked a couple of streets and a couple of buildings that look particularly like they could be from Harry Potter, those are on the list of places to walk. There’s a Harry Potter store that I want to go in and look through the stuff because the interior seems really cool, but I promise I would never spend money in there.

And then Edinburgh – comedy will probably take care of itself. I want to see The Stand and The Gilded Balloon, as the sites of many of my favourite comedy events over the last twenty years. But I’m hoping I’ll end up in those places anyway to see shows, so no need to make a special trip. If not, though, I’m making a special trip. I have to see the stage where the cow got torn apart. I absolutely have to go see it in person.

There is also the Cambridge tab, because I have blocked off one of my London days to take a train to Cambridge and back. I have made a Google Earth document with about 20 of the most interesting-seeming colleges marked. Obviously I’m not going to see 20 colleges, I’m going to look at them all in Google Earth and then rank them by how cool they look and go see as many as I can in order. I have also, of course, marked down which ones let you take tours and at what times. The place I’m most excited to see is the Wren Library, which appears to be a library from Harry Potter or His Dark Materials or something. I want to see Trinity College because it’s the college on which Douglas Adams based the college in the first Dirk Gently book. A few of the colleges have chapels that look really pretty and are interesting to me because I have for some reason not lost my awe of pretty churches. And mainly, I just want to walk around the Cambridge University grounds looking at stuff.

Oh, and we’re leaving another day to take a train to Kent, where they have an archive of stand-up comedy materials that I wish to see. But I haven’t made a tab for that, because I just want to see some stuff in the University of Kent and then go back to London.

I am also hoping I can block out one day from the Edinburgh week to not book any shows, and just take trains around Scotland. I have always wanted to take trains around Scotland. I have always romanticized trains, I have always romanticized Scotland, taking a train through rural parts of Scotland will make me feel like I’m on the Hogwarts Express, it’s everything my over-romanticizing heart fantasized about when imagining this trip. I’ve checked, and while it would be an incredibly long day, it is possible to take a train from Edinburgh to Mallaig in the morning, have a couple of hours in Mallaig, and take another train back at night. This would take me, twice, through something that’s supposed to be one of the most beautiful train journeys in the world, from Glasgow to Mallaig. Mallaig is a tiny village on the West Coast of Scotland and it’s got a hiking trail and a pub and I just want to take a train across a country and walk around the trail and then sit in that pub and look at the ocean. I want that so badly. It’s been a rough couple of months, I find it hard to spend 8 to 10 hours a day interacting with other people, the thought that one day in early August I might spend one hour sitting in a pub in Mallaig looking at the ocean is really getting me the through the day at this point. There are a few pubs in Mallaig, but obviously I’ve picked out my favourite. I want to eat seafood. I love seafood. That’s not just a Mallaig thing, seafood is my favourite food and I always eat lots of it when I visit the East Coast of Canada because it’s better near the ocean. All of Britain is near the ocean, so I want to eat all their seafood.

Okay, that’s the plan. I was going to write about what I’m thinking in terms of actual shows to see, but I might let that turn into a different post. Right now, I’m just excited about the idea of posting this on the internet because it is real and I am actually going to do it and having this to look forward to is way too big a proportion of my motivation at this point in my life.

11 notes · View notes

crazycatgirl420 · 7 months

Text

First Lines

I'm not sure if this is the first line of the whole fic or the first line of the part I'm currently working on so...since I don't actually know the rules I'll just do whichever feels right for it Kay? Cool.

1) Ellie sat on a stool on the stage, a simple black dress shimmering under the light. She was supposed to sing some sad love song tonight but all she could think about was the death of Robin the Second. Looking at the crowd of Gotham Citizens she wondered if they even knew yet.

This one is still a draft but it's teenage singer Danielle in an dp×DC universe. The song that inspired the first chapter was actually a cover of the Beatles song Blackbird.

2) Sam wasn't related to her by blood, but Grandma Ida had always loved her for who she was. Sam would never truly worry about money, though she had spent most of her savings on her car and the apartment, because Grandma wouldn't let Sam go hungry or cold. A thousand dollars would be sent to Sam's bank account evey month, and had been since she was a baby.

The next chapter of Gotham's Black Rose is a bit of a struggle for me right now, it takes place after they've moved to Gotham, about them settling in and finding their footing in a new city, and Sam does some reflection on her relationship with her adopted Grandma.

3) "Father, Grandfather, Uncles," Danny greeted as he walked into the dinning room and sat down. The adults all looked at him, but Danny just smiled.

"Who let a kid in here?" - "Uncles?" - "Father?" - "Who are you?"

They all spoke at once but Danny waited for them to quiet down before he spoke up.

"Daniel Bertinelli, or Constantine if you check magical lineage, or Wayne if you ask for my mother's biological father's last name."

"I've got a kid?" The blond Constantine dropped his cigarette.

"...Helena Bertinelli is my daughter?" Bruce Wayne stared at the table as if the wood would make any of this easier.

The next part of The Fine Print where 'everyone' finds out they've had children they didn't know about.

4) Gotham was not a good city to be homeless in, Danny learned. It was cold at night, and rained at least once a week, and he never knew here he was going to sleep.

My Project R fic is not doing too well, I'm not sure why or what to do with it.

5) When Paulina imagined her Graduation from High School, she never would've pictured this for herself. She was Eighteen, turning Nineteen this summer. She thought she'd be dating Dash or Star, that she'd be taking photos and going out to dinner with either of them or maybe the cheer team would meet up.

Of course she never would've predicted Phantom. Couldn't have imagined Fenton. And you can't predict an unexpected baby. That's what makes them unexpected.

But here she was. Kneeling on the grass of the football field, blue Graduation gown the only thing protecting her JJ House designer dress from stains, and her heels starting to sink into the dirt.

"Grad-u-lates Pauli," Ellie said, carefully, with a toothy smile and her happy bright blue eyes. Her little arms went up, hands grabbing at the air. "Uppies?"

It's a Paulina/Danny raise baby Danielle in Gotham fic idk if it's going to go anywhere but I find it cute to think about.

6) Soul dreams were a safe place, at least they were usually. A neutral place where souls met to bring each other into their lives. How the soul dream took shape depended on who was asleep first, and was still asleep when the other joined them.

I hit a self doubt wall with my first soulmate fic, I wanted to analyze Jazz's sense of responsibility towards Danny and her tendency to treating him as a child even while acknowledging he's a teenager. I also wanted to analyze Dick's relationships with his own siblings once I picked him as Jazz's soulmate for this fic. I'm not sure if I should go back to my notes and try again or if I should give up on it entirely for a different soulmate fic.

7) I'm not sure if cleaning the Fenton house was a good idea anymore. Jasmine Fenton sat on the couch in front of me, her hands clasped together and a strange look on her face.

My self instert fic has hit a wall so hard I decided I am going to change it completely. I tried I struggled and I had no idea what I was doing. Here's the last I had for it as it is now though.

Okay! So there's my 7 current WIPs sorta. I haven't had the heart to actually remove anything from my list of projects even though I'm done trying to write for some of them. I did my best though! And I'm proud of what I learn every time I try something new.

I think I'm supposed to tag other people to play too so I guess I'll tag @faeriekit @im-totally-not-an-alien-2 @evandarya @spooky-fm @p0ssym1lker

Okay I'm not brave enough to tag more people in a silly game, maybe next time. I'd like to thank @weirdfishy for tagging me, sorry it took me so long to make play too! This was fun once I stopped over thinking it.

#dc x dp #tag game #writing game #first lines #my wips

15 notes · View notes

orchideae · 4 months

Text

---- NINE PEOPLE I'D LIKE TO KNOW BETTER!

𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑(𝐒): Black, red, green and greys! 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑(𝐒): I follow Min on the 'fruits' thing, there's nothing like the flavor of a nice ripe nectarine or peach, or cantaloupe melon or cherries!! God, cherries, I want some now. I also am (to be honest) an absolute nut for chocolate, which I think I haven't kept a secret here so far whatsoever. But dark chocolate with praliné filling? God, my mouth is watering at the mere thought. 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐂: I like so many artists, but a lot of consistent ones that I keep going back to are the classic oldies (Presley, Beatles, Sinatra), or your 80/90s classics. Beyond that, I will always go back to Abel Korzeniowski, Sleeping at Last, Smash into Pieces (thank you, Min)— uh, who else, I know I always forget ones here, ah, I'll 100% admit that I'm a Bruno Mars fan (Silk Sonic, hello?) This is one of those where I can't really narrow it down, I just let Youtube autoplay and I come across many gems, you know? 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐄(𝐒): Mary Poppins. It's a film that's very near and dear to me and this answer seems to always surprise people, but I don't think it'll ever change at this point. It just hits me with a sense of magic that nothing else could ever do. And while I don't seek to 'be drawn back into my childhood', I like that this... does just that. I feel like whenever I watch it (and I don't too often), I gain more appreciation for it. Also, the music in it remains unparalleled (the moment when Mr. Banks walks to the bank, that instrumental? Favorite of all time, I think). 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒: Seinfeld, Friends, I enjoy the good old-school comedy shows. 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆: Minefields, by Faouzia & John Legend. 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒: An episode of Seinfeld has been playing every morning when I'm home as of late, it's been absolutely wonderful. I love this cast so much. 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐄: The Joker, it came recommended for a specific mood! It's a good film. 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆: I haven't picked it up in forever, because sitting down to read hasn't been a common thing for me lately (and also, I'm not quite prepared to head back into Warcraft lore quite yet, but the Warcraft: War of the Ancients trilogy by Richard A. Knaak. 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐍: Work preparation for Wednesday, last work day before Winter break! I'd love to work on replies, though. But life is insane at present and because I've coughed so much because of bronchitis/etc. etc., I think I tore a ligament. 😭

Tagged by: @delusionaid 💙(cat vc: ty human, ily) Tagging: Aaaa, who hasn't been tagged yet? @avaere @spiderwarden @infernaliscor @immobiliter (okay I literally can't not tag all three of you, no matter if you've already possibly been tagged 9 times already) @lunaetis @sortilegii @liuuyuun @electrohunter @shrineofprophecy @nivuruheim and anyone else who wants to do it!

#[ ooc. ] don't try to make it logical or edit your soul according to the fashion. rather; follow your most intense obsessions mercilessly.#[ et cetera. ] every round of finger-guessing is a tiny adventure; and every roll of dice sends sporadic thrills down her spine.#[ me: about to crawl back into bed to nap for 45 mins. ]

14 notes · View notes

glowing-gold · 5 months

Text

Fic Scenario that I dreamed up last night:

inspired by Beatles Kink Meme Prompt:

(needs to be a multi chapter slow burn but I wanted to get this down cause I’m insane)

This scenario takes place just before the lost weekend, right as Yoko and John are drifting apart. Paul shows up to the Dakota on a rare evening when John is alone. Yoko is out without John, John doesn’t know where she is. He’s pissed that she’s out doing whatever she likes, but he’s resigned to the idea that he might deserve it, especially after what he’d done to her at that birthday party, fucking that woman only a room away. Yelling that he’d rather be with Paul.

Paul arrives on a layover, guitar in hand, of course. John lets him in on the stipulation that they don’t play. Paul is a bit disappointed but just glad to be allowed in. He misses John desperately, so much it’s an all-consuming thing. Linda and the children have been a lovely new distraction, but he doesn’t feel any of it has any real meaning if he’s not sharing it with John. He keeps ending up on John’s door and doesn’t know why. He knows John doesn’t want him there, he’s turned him away more times than he’s let him in. He just can’t stay away. Can’t stop hoping they’ll write again, can’t stop wondering what John thinking of his music.

When Paul arrives, John’s in a dark place, he’s been drinking. Paul decides he should catch up and they drink quite a bit. Too much.

Both of them, drunk and sad and pathetic, end up slow dancing to a soppy Sinatra song in the middle of the living room. It starts as a joke, but slowly becomes deathly serious, the two of them clinging onto one another with white knuckles. They pull apart and in their sloppy, drunken haze, they kiss. Paul misses John so desperately that it’s enough for him to surrender to it, finally. After so long. But they’re drunk. Their movements are hurried, slurred, sloppy.

They stumble to the couch where Paul goes to remove John’s pants. But John is having trouble getting hard. Embarrassingly he keeps needing to toss himself off to get any stiffness going. He keeps apologizing, and Paul keeps reassuring him that it’s fine. But John begins to spiral with shame. All this time he’s waited for this, and he can’t even get it up? He fears he’s ruined his one chance, his one shot to finally have Paul. The first time he’s had Paul in a willing position and he can’t even get hard. He’s so fucking embarrassed. He pushes away from Paul and tells him it’s all a mistake. Paul seems to sober up at that and agree things got out of hand. John goes to sleep in the bedroom and Paul falls asleep on the couch.

In the morning John is gone. Paul calls Mal, Neil, even fucking Phil Spector to ask if they know where he could be. Mal tells Paul about May, then gives him her phone number. He calls her place, her roommate answers, says she got on a flight to LA with John that morning.

Paul is obviously confused, but understands that he must find John. He books a flight and takes a cab to the airport, the whole time uncertain what he’ll even do when he gets there. Where will he even find John? Does he have an address? What will he say? He has no clue. What does he even want from John? He doesn’t know.

He can’t stop thinking about their altercation the night before. How ashamed John seemed, but how shockingly easy it had felt for Paul. In fact, the ease confused him most. He doesn’t think he was queer, never found himself interested in blokes. But this was John, not some bloke. Did he love John? Yeah, of course. But how come he’d never said it? How come he hadn’t been able to say so all those years ago when John had so desperately needed him to say the words? Maybe because love wasn’t a big enough word. He more than loved John. The previous night had cracked something open in him, and he wasn’t going to lose John again.

He lands in LA and rents a car, starts driving around. He goes to the capitol records tower, not sure where else to start, doesn’t get much information. He wanders LA for the day, unsure what he’s doing there, considers heading home. Feels like he came here without a plan, which he definitely did. He looks into it and the only flight out to Scotland doesn’t leave until late the next day, so he decides to stay. He calls around asking folks he knows out here if anyone’s heard from John. They all say no, but they’ll call him back if they hear anything.

By the next morning, Paul’s feeling ready to book that flight home. He woke up feeling stupid. He feels guilty from betraying Linda, the kids. He picks up the phone to book the ticket, but something keeps him from calling the travel agency. He hangs up the phone. As soon as he does, it rings. Paul picks up. It’s Harry, says he has some news on John’s whereabouts. Gives Paul an address.

Paul runs out the door and drives over. He arrives and stays in his car for a while, not sure what he’ll say when he gets to the door. He’s not even sure John will be happy to see him. He’s considering his next move when John comes outside for a smoke. Paul quickly hides his face in a map, trying to spy from behind its giant folds. He’s not very good, because as he’s snooping, John seems to squint at him. Pauls still not used to John's reliable eyesight, forgot he could probably see him even from this far away.

John starts to approach the car, and Paul begins to Panic. He tries starting to car but has to let go of the map to do that, and John spots him. He calls his name “Paul?!” Paul considers peeling out, but thinks the better of it, it was just give him away- and wouldn’t it be more embarrassing if he’d flown all the way to Los Angeles, was staking out John’s house, and then left all without saying a word to him?

So he resigns himself to having been caught, and rolls down the window. John goes white in the face. “You’re here.” He says, terrified.

“Yep.” Paul is sheepish. They’re uncertain how to start, John fully aware he’d run away from Paul without a note. Paul, fully aware he’d stalked John across the country.

After some awkward explanations, John climbs into Paul’s car. They go for a drive through Beverly Hills. They talk. John says he shouldn’t have run. Paul agrees, says he didn’t need to. John explains he was embarrassed. Paul is understanding, says he gets it, but that John never needs to be embarrassed with him. John asks if Paul is mad at him for what he did. “About the kiss?” Paul asks. John squirms uncomfortably at the question. “Do you think I’d follow you 5,000 miles just cause I was cross?” Paul smiles and reaches a hand to squeeze John’s knee. He feels stupid as soon as he does it, pulls away.

John tells Paul to pull off the road somewhere, they follow a dirt road for a while until they’re secluded and alone. They chat here, Paul asks why John ran away. John explains that he just wants to do what he wants to do for once, beholden to no one. John explains he just wants to do what makes him happy. Paul asks if what they did the other night was a part of that, if he was doing what made him happy. John is silent, nods.

They’re both very shy and very uncertain at first, but they turn towards each other and kiss. Its sweet and slow and devastatingly sober. Paul can feel everything, smell everything, hear everything. He’s nervous. He’s never felt this nervous kissing anyone before. Not even Linda. But John is gentle and kind and he can feel himself begin to relax. Their kiss gets heated and John finally reaches into Paul’s lap. Paul freezes and pulls away. “Fifteen years you wait, and you want this to happen in the backseat of a rental car?” John just nods and says he’d had Paul anywhere anytime at all, with a wink. They toss each other off in the backseat. they drive home in silence.

Paul drops John off at his lawyer's house, John says he’ll call him later. Paul goes back to his hotel room. He sits there alone for hours, going over what happened in the car. He feels like a teenager, horny just from the memory. He has a luxurious wank in the shower. Breathless and disbelieving at what happened between them.

He’s getting ready for bed when John bangs on the door of his room. John comes in and starts making out with Paul so furiously, it’s almost violent. Paul is equally as ferocious, they’re both finally ready for this. They have sex, it’s intense and horny and they say beautiful, nasty things to one another. ETC ETC ETC FLUFFY ENDING ETC ETC

#the beatles #paul mccartney #john lennon #mclennon #McLennon fanfic #McLennon ao3 #beatles rpf #McLennon rpf #beatles fanfiction

13 notes · View notes

get-back-homeward · 11 months

Text

Ram Revisited

Paul and Linda record their album Ram from October 1970 to March 1971, and it is released May 17, 1971. By May 26, John already had his infamous response, recording How Do You Sleep. This song gets a lot of attention for how cruel it seemed. One of John’s defenses by the album’s launch was that Paul had written special messages to him on Ram, only Paul didn’t print the lyrics so you couldn’t hear them. He mentions it a couple times, in print...

and at St Regis hotel press conference for the album release:

JOHN: But... I was laughing at [Ram] later, but first, I was saying, “Oh! Hmm. Oh, I see. Oh, that’s what he thinks,” huffing and puffing. That’s the first thing I heard on his album, was all this – this message, you see. [x]

JOHN: It’s just a moment of anger. But I just put it down on paper. And also, I’m answering Paul’s last album, which mostly because he didn’t hand out a lyric sheet, [people] don’t know what he was saying [on it]. [x]

JOHN: You mightn’t hear ‘em, but I can hear ‘em, and I know Paul. [x]

and during live interviews, where he gets cut off from finishing his point every time. But he seems particularly bothered by the lack of printed lyrics.

JOHN: Little messages that Paul sent to me on Ram. Which, funny, I publish my lyrics you see. He doesn’t, so you have to listen. [x]

It’s tempting to laugh at this, if you think it’d just an excuse for HDYS, or call him kookoo, if you think he’s just obsessed with Paul and reading things that aren’t there. But I find the comments rather curious in light of idea that the Beatles, particularly John and Paul, had a shared language that dates back to when they were kids in Liverpool and was used as late as 1969 as seen in Get Back. By design, the language is used to protect and exclude, so any analysis by outsiders will probably be utterly meaningless. But I thought I’d take it on face value that John was hearing something the average listener couldn’t without printed lyrics to try to understand the root of the anger that drives HDYS.

As a thought experiment, I decided to relisten to Ram for the first time while reading the lyrics, with an eye for words I couldn’t hear (or misheard before) along with album themes. Full disclosure, I’ve always listened to this album while working on something else, so while I may be have seen looked up lyrics for a song or two independently (Too Many People, Back Seat), I didn’t read them while listening to the song or consider them in the context of the full album, all of which create a different experience. I used Spotify’s lyrics function while listening to the 2012 remastered album, so any lyric variations may be Spotify’s fault.

Starting from the top. The album begins with Too Many People, which opens with an indiscernible line that’s a play on words.

Piss off cake-->piece of cake. I had no idea that’s what he was singing at the start. For 20 years, I heard this line as “this I got to say-ay-ay”. That said, “piss off cake” still doesn’t tell us much. I’m with this guess that this phrase is an in-joke turned nasty, like a firing shot John heard right at the start.

Two “mistakes” are mentioned here. The first mistake gets a lot of attention (”going underground”, “took your lucky break and broke it in two”) and is generally attributed to John asking for a divorce/leaving the band, though I question it (see below). But the last mistake is the hidden dagger I never heard without looking up the lyrics:

“I find my love awake and waiting to be...” followed by the stinger chord is an unfinished sentence. The verb ‘be’ is doing all the work, suggesting a missing past participle left unsaid. John is no stranger to using simple verbs to stand in for prohibited ones, as Norwegian Wood and Don’t Let Me Down show. Paul stops just short of making it vulgar, but the implication is there. By making the arena in bed, the suggestion is inherently sexual--not only in the unfinished sentence but also in the 1-minute guitar solo climax that follows, complete with dog howling. This makes the dagger a sexual taunt, and I keep trying to hear other interpretations, but I only hear one: Literally this could have been you in my bed but you blew it and now I have her. Not ever but never again. It’s a closed door. Slammed in your face. Now what can be done for you? as the guitar goes wild. Suggestive of bedroom fun you’re shut off from.

Okay, I can see how that could ignite someone’s anger, especially one prone to jealousy.

The trouble I have with this is timing. If “first mistake” is the divorce meeting (Sept 20) then what is the “last mistake” that deserves this sexual taunt? Paul always talks about the divorce meeting as if John declaring he’s leaving the band and wanting a divorce (from him) as the same moment. Maybe the “first mistake” is mislabeled, as John’s “going underground” wish begins in 1968 with Yoko and his controversial public actions from nude album covers to bagism events (not to mention private actions like covering personal debt and bringing outsiders into the recording studio) that caused a schism at Apple at its crucial first few months. Paul talks about summer 1968 as a difficult time for him, where he felt like everything was falling apart. Dick James their publisher is watching all of this and making business calculations. By March 1969, in the middle of their honeymoons with their wives, he decides to sell Northern Songs.

Would John pinpoint his "first mistake” as Yoko? IDK. He’d know when his relationship with Paul got rocky, at least professionally. They seem to be arguing about this underground direction as early as May 1968 (NYC), perhaps even earlier. In interviews, Yoko seems to focus on this part, which may indicate her feeling it was about her.

But if the “first mistake” is May 1968 and in the realm of music/business/professional, then the “last mistake” is the final straw and it’s personal.

Don’t let them tell you what you want to be

Paul recounts September 20 as if John betrayed him, getting him to sign the EMI contract before telling him he wanted the divorce. Paul felt tricked, like the rug was pulled out from under him. The hidden dagger in the song works the same way.

The second track, 3 Legs, begins innocently enough (When I walk on my horse upon the hill). It seems like empty nonsense until this accusation:

It’s a explicitly John-directed lyric: Paul’s emotional state is caused by John’s actions. I still hear “you let me down” (recalling Don’t Let Me Down) even though the original lyrics sheet says “left” and these printed ones say “laid.” So it’s worth taking a closer look at the rest.

This is a weird lyric taken literally. Paul’s doodling a three-legged thing and a three-legged dog on the lyrics sheet for this song. The dog doesn’t look like any of the dogs they had at the time to my knowledge. Dog could be a stand-in for another word John understood.

I enjoy @jobey-wan-kenobi’s idea of “three leg” as surrealist imagery that suggests an off-kiltered scene and reflects the writer’s state of mind. Both John and Paul spoke about being inspired by surrealist art and using it in lyrics to mask.

Didn’t John talk about having a reoccurring dream of flying above the clouds as a kid? I believe he used it to justify his whole egocentric interpretation of Strawberry Fields. But this flying seems the opposite of an ego trip:

He’s so unstable, the listener could knock him down from his flight with a feather.

But you know it’s not allowed

Ram On is the nearest to the title track but only a wisp of a thing, so it gets lost in the attention to Too Many People. I swear every time I hear it, I hear it another way.

Is it about needing love quickly? You’ll take anyone who appears next around the bend? Or is it about the unpredictability or impermanence of love? The someone round the bend coming to take the somebody you just gave your heart to? It shapeshifts, depending on how you approach it. But the second one reminds me of what John says later about love slipping away as soon as you look at it directly, as soon as you try to possess it completely. And hey what was that in 3 Legs?

When I thought, when I thought you was my friend... But you laid me down Put my heart round the bend

That lyrical link suggests the latter option. The earlier question in 3 Legs also fits with this theme of the unpredictability of love.

When I walk, when I walk On my horse upon the hill... Will my lover love me still?

But it may also suggest freedom. To do your own thing outside and then return home with a lover waiting. Like Too Many People. She’s waiting for me...

Big Barn Bed (not released til 1973) is first recorded with other 1970 Ram home recordings. It starts as a coda for Ram On and later becomes its own song. It has a similar “round the bend” line: Who’s that coming round the corner? Will it be my friend?

Which suggests more anticipation than worry but gives the same feeling of unpredictability toward the listener who is also the friend who let him down.

Bug lore is that John thought Dear Boy was for him, though I’m having trouble finding a source on that. I always found it pretty hilarious, as I do think it fits best with Paul’s story that it’s Linda’s ex-husband. The “When I stepped in” part makes sense with that interpretation. But it’s funny to think about John thinking it’s about him:

What’s John hearing Paul say here? I loved you and you didn’t even see it! And you know what, maybe Paul knew John would hear it like that and it was half the fun. It’s not hard to see that Paul identified with Linda’s feeling of being unappreciated in her prior marriage. And it’s common for Paul to start a song about one person or idea and then it becomes transformed into being about something else. Layers are possible in all their songs. John talks about the layers he hears in their old songs in Jan 1969, layers that he didn’t hear when they wrote them. So it’s possible John heard this connection. It may have just made him angry because John suggests elsewhere that he was the one who felt unappreciated and neglected.

However, even with Paul’s interpretation, John still shows up as the reason Paul’s heart was down and out and positions Linda as an antidote:

Oh what a tangled web we weave

When first we practice to deceive

I always filed away Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey as a simple character mashup. But looking at the words, I started to question that. Could Uncle Albert, a real uncle of Paul’s, also act as a stand-in character for someone else? The theme of no one left at home is echoed in Little Lamb Dragonfly, which is home recorded with RAM songs but held back until 1973 Red Rose Speedway.

But the line that follows is a peculiar one. I always thought I was hearing it wrong, surely it is it’s gonna rain. But the lyrics tell me it’s I’m gonna rain:

So could it be a metaphor or stand-in for an emotion like sadness or a visible reaction like crying? Or is it like 3 Leg? More surrealist projection of instability when charting new waters.

The second section, Admiral Halsey, has nautical themes that suggest more than meets the eye. Remember both John and Paul talked about the Beatles as a boat, with John talking about leaving the Beatles as jumping off Paul’s boat and onto Yoko’s boat.

Paul’s delivery of “berth” sounds like “bath” to me, so I can’t see how anyone could pick up this line in full before, except maybe if you knew that’s how Paul pronounces -er- sounds. But it certainly is a suggestive of a metaphor for a significant event. Perhaps about the day that Ringo as the messenger notified Paul about the McCartney release date change (to make room for his own album)? Or more personally, about Paul having to back away from John to make room for Yoko?

But what on earth is butter pie? Wiki tells me it’s a Lancashire-based savory pie of onions and potatoes (so meatless). But my mind goes straight to Penny Lane (finger pies), so I’m just gonna assume it’s something dirty.

Hands across the water, hands across the sky

Linda’s harmonies and backing vocals are just so cool. It had to have gotten to John that she so easily fits into this vocal role next to Paul, especially in the more silly moments featured here. Especially considering humor was such a large component of John and Paul’s relationship.

There’s limitations to printing lyrics though and I get Paul’s right to not print them earlier because sometimes it take away from all the wordplay and double meanings inherent in the sounds of the words. For example, I always heard some of these “smile away”s in Smile Away as “it’s my way,” and so I’m surprised that phrase is never printed in the lyrics:

However, given the double meanings elsewhere, I think it’s worth still considering because "it’s my way” fits into the album theme of not blindly following along and finding your own path.

Don’t let them tell you what you want to be

A lot of focus is on Too Many People as the trigger for How Do You Sleep. But it’s a question directed a line from Heart Of The Country.

I’m gonna get me a good night sleep

It’s the one respite on the whole album and I can see how the image of smug Paul could send John in a writing fury.

Monkberry Moon Delight plays with “ketchup” and “catch up” and both of these appear in the lyrics. But is it beretta the gun or biretta the hat? Or something else? Ram sessions include Oh Woman Oh Why with gun sounds that gets left off the album, and photos from the session show Paul holding a prop gun. There’s also a gun-like object drawn on the Ram back cover. So maybe he did mean the gun. Inclusion of that song would have turned the tone of entire album, from jaunty taunts to serious violence, so it’s the right choice to keep it off. John would only hear the beretta line here with “banana” and the gun on the back cover:

and i don’t get the gist of your letter

Considering John and Paul are sending letters back and forth across 1970, this line sounds like a taunt for John alone. Along with what follows:

don’t get left behind

which makes this...

...another sexual taunt like Too Many People. Haha, look at what you’re missing!

If you’re doubting that, the track order clears it up fast because it’s followed immediately by....

Eat At Home. No explanation required.

It is an outright banger. No way John wasn’t a tad impressed by it. Even if it exudes those aggressive “I am having so much fun with my wife right now and not even thinking of you” vibes that left John shook.

Am I the only one that thought some of these “little lady”s were “lad”s? Paul stresses the -d so the -y sounds silent except for Linda’s backing. The result is pretty...ambiguous at times.

So I’m left thinking it’s a bit odd how this song ends on the negative: don’t do that. If the sexual connotation starts it, it ends with something that sounds unwanted, like it goes too far. A revoking of consent. But is it the lad(y) going too far? Or someone else?

Don’t let them tell you what you want to be

Long Haired Lady is an ode to Linda that starts with a jokey call and response between Paul and Linda and builds into a section that channels The Mamas & The Papas with lush, blissfully layered harmonies:

I’m good up til “win or lose it” but I don’t know if anyone could have heard “into the soul”. I’m not so sure it matters much, but the suggestion seems to be that love continues whether or not you “win or lose” love. That no matter if you are wrong, love is stable, constant. Wait, where have I heard that before?

Generally, I find Back Seat of My Car to be the strangest one for John to think was directed at him (and Yoko?). It’s just so big and sweeping and wasn’t Paul and Linda the one who did the joyriding? But that whole we believe that we can’t be wrong really got to him. He mentions it a lot, sometimes attributing the line to him and Yoko and other times to Paul and Linda about them (”well I believe that you could possibly be wrong!“). It’s a real hangup for John around this time, the idea that Paul is always right and he is wrong. Seeing Paul’s predictive powers, I can see how infuriating it would be after a while, and how comforting it would be to have people around you who counter that, to tell you “no, you are right and he’s wrong.” How it’d make you dig your heels in and work hard to get people off the McCartney bandwagon.

There’s a whole gibberish sounding section not picked up in the printed lyrics that sounds like “everyone’s tried to love her” or “i’m gonna try to love her” sung at an auctioneer’s pacing. You could possibly read something into that depending on what you hear.

Here’s another mention of “my way” after “highway”, suggestive of the idiom “my way or the highway”. The second half of the “looking for a ride” lines I can’t hear even with the lyrics:

“and all I found” would have been my guess.

But if you’re taking everything else as a sexual taunt, looking for a ride could hold a double meaning.

The climatic ending of the song and album is the height of choosing your own way and building your own world:

We believe that we can’t be wrong

A brash assertion of confidence in your own choices? A mocking condemnation of someone else’s choices? Or aggressive positivity to vanquish agonizing about whether you’re right or wrong? Like others on the album, it depends on how you look at it. But the first option fits with the overall album theme, with the third behind it as another layer.

There’s a snowglobe imagery to the feeling of this ending. Swirling and wondrous and heady but also contained and protective and isolated by design, living in this world you’ve built for yourself. You control it to a point while fearing what’s outside, the unpredictability of the future and the unknown of what’s waiting for you around the bend.

Wrapup

Overall, there’s a story in the album themes. Starting with a declaration of independence and naming mistakes and ending with the denial of wrongness, suggesting your own. From John’s comments, we know he got that part. In between a conditional: if you choose wrong, love is long. Throughout, the main theme is strong, finding your own way and building a new life to push forward, which makes the cover less of a joke and more of an apt metaphor for a precisely crafted album. The pronouns look fairly consistent too, which is a big surprise to me: you are sending hearts around the bend, but she waits for me. There’s double meanings galore with possible sexual taunts as hidden daggers. But, above all, there is the repeated need for love that’s in alignment amidst confusion and miscommunication.

Will my lover love me still? (3 Legs)

Bring the love that you feel for me in line with the love I see (Eat At Home)

Do you love me like you know you ought to do? (Long-Haired Woman)

The trouble with any shared language is what may get lost from the communicator to the listener. If you get 9 out of 10 things but the 10th thing was important for understanding the other 9, the risk of misunderstanding is still huge. So I’m left wondering whether John listened to the album enough in those first 9 days to hear these lines before recording HDYS. He may have regretted venting his anger in more obvious public daggers than Paul’s more hidden ones the more he listened. By September, he knows the album well enough to sing an exact match on the spot.

Undoubtedly, John knew just where to hit because he knew Paul’s weaknesses. He shows that by dragging it into the public sphere. If Paul’s messages are directed at John but subtle or hidden, John’s messages are blatant as neon lights about Paul to the world. There’s an unevenness there that makes us uneasy.

By focusing on John brandishing the dagger so obviously in one song, it’s easy to miss the hidden daggers in Ram along the gems. A concealed dagger can do the same damage. But the overall theme of needing a constant unwavering love is one they ultimately shared, signalling a place where they could find common ground once the anger cleared.

#no idea what to tag this as too long dont read #there's song wars and then there's this whole declaration of independence album #my text #ram #long post #album listen #i started this almost a month ago #it was a simple exercise when i started but it grewwwww #this album really does get better and better with repeated listens #never thought i'd have this much to write about #its really wild this album got dismissed and buried as some square thing #its so fresh its like its from yesterday #double entendres included #still never heard where john might have been hearing 'documentary my dear datsun'#(which i assume is an in-joke on the sherlock holmes quote)#give a shout if you can find it #thought experiment #song wars #john pov #1971 #1970 #too many people #i guess i have to tag it mclennon but its paul mccartneys fault #eta the links #my idea when i started this was to link up all the bits and pieces ive collected but there's so many #the breakup

23 notes · View notes

okwritingandpain · 6 months

Text

Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da: The Beatles x Reader

Chapter 21

She hadn't expected to be sleeping in a heap on the ground with the band. It was a way of coping. A way for the others to say their goodbye...by being close. She hoped to see them again...maybe there was a chance they would all live. Then she could see them all one more time. George's leg twitched like a cat's as he hit Ringo in the arm, making him groan. John's arm was slumped over his guitar and the other over Paul's chest. Pal held John's arm like a stuffed animal. Y/N awoke earlier than the others and she decided to lay on the floor for a moment and stare at the ceiling. She remembered all the time they had spent together. From dancing in restaurants to dinner at John's aunt's house it really was an adventure. She had aged a year in it all. It taught her a lot about trust and friendship and she couldn't help but feel bliss at the thought of experiencing something no one else could. No one else would learn these things through the way she did but either way it brought a smile to her face.

"Y/N?" John whispered, searching for her in the mix of people. "Are you awake?" She shifted to try and find him.

"Yeah." Y/N responds, finally spotting John.

"Oh...you should rest before you go home." He replied. A small chuckle leaves her throat.

"Sleep is for the weak." She joked. John smiled in response. They laid there for a few seconds, trying to think of what to say. "John?"

"Yeah?" He looks at her.

"Do you think we'll see each other again?" She fiddles her thumbs, feeling a wave of sadness flow over herself.

"Is that even a question? Of course we will!" He replied with glee. This awoke Paul who seemed grumpy.

"John..." He hissed, "What time is it?" His eyes fluttered open and looked around for a clock. John checked his watch.

"4:23." He read. Paul groaned.

"Really? You've got to be kidding." Paul let go of John's arm.

"Good morning to you too." She laughed. Paul hadn't realized Y/N was awake too.

"Oh, uh good morning, Y/N. I guess it's an early start today?" Paul asked, nervously.

"As early as it can be." John replied, shifting to a more comfortable position. This of course, woke George up which in turn made him stop hitting Ringo which woke him up too. At this point everyone stopped caring about being quiet. You got up to make breakfast but John and George stopped you.

"No, no, no." George pushed you away from the kitchen. "You don't lift a finger during your last day with us. "

"This would be the last time I get to cook in my kitchen." She frowned.

"There's always lunch." He replied, shooing her away. Rolling her eyes, she sat on the couch next to Ringo.

"I had a dream about a walrus and an octopus." He said, looking confused as ever.

"Were you high?" She asked, plainly. Ringo thought for a moment.

"Perhaps." He replied, dozing off again. Paul laughed.

"What's a walrus and an octopus have to do with anything?" He asked, leaning over the back of the couch. Y/N wore a look that made him instantly realize that it meant something. "If we write a song about a walrus an an octopus I swear Ringo..." Paul bapped Ringo on the head. He woke up, looking around frantically.

"I am the walrus." Ringo said, giving her chills. That totally wasn't creepy at all. Not to mention that Ringo didn't write that song and he wasn't the walrus in Magical Mystery Tour. "I am a walrus in an octopus's garden."

"Ringo." She said. He looked at her expectantly.

"Stop. Please. I beg of you." She patted his hand and stood up to double check that everything was packed. Paul helped you go over the checklist that George had made.

"You packed your writing right? That's really important. I plan to read every single book you publish, so you need to have this one..." Paul looked around for the writing.

"Don't worry. I have it here." She said, picking it up off the table. She had written in it last night and she had been so tired that she hadn't even been bothered to move it. Paul let out a sigh of relief.

"That's the most important thing." Paul said.

"In its own way." She replied, setting it with the rest of her stuff. Paul nodded with a smile. "There are other things that are important too. I just can't bring them with me." Y/N looked around at the band who was scattered around the apartment. Ringo was hitting random notes on the piano and she had to resist the urge to stop him. It was very early and she didn't exactly want to disturb the neighbors, but at this point why should she care. Y/N sat next to Ringo and began playing a song. Ringo joined in, playing anything he thought would sound good. Paul hummed a tune in response. The smiles widened on their faces as they played. It wasn't long before George and John came and added their own version into the mix. They were going to miss this, but they all knew that they would see each other again. They had to.

"Who is ready for some breakfast?" John asked, pulling her away from the piano. He spun her around before sitting her down at the dining table. George brought out some eggs and toast along with a few strips of bacon.

"This looks absolutely stunning!" She cheered, looking at the meal with hunger. George gave her a hug before sitting down next to her. John sat across and the others joined them. They reminisce about everything they had been through as they ate their meal. John and Paul had started throwing eggs at each other and the next thing they knew it was a war between Paul and John and George and Ringo. Y/N watched the fight, laughing at the absurdity, but yet still finding it to be a ball. "Winner! George and Ringo!" She announced. Ringo stood up and clapped for himself as he bowed.

"Thank you, thank you! This moment is truly bigger than I am--" Ringo was cut-off.

"Oh shut up, Ringo!" John laughed.

"So surprising that the loser said that." George rolled his eyes with a laugh. John threw one more egg at George's face.

"Who's the loser now?" He snickered. Paul hid behind the table, hoping George and Ringo didn't have any more food to throw.

"Alright you guys." Y/N motioned for them to stop. "I don't exactly want to leave this place a mess."

"Cleaning crew! GO!" Paul announced as he went to retrieve cleaning supplies. Y/N and the boys cleaned up the place. By the time they were done it was around 6 am. The hours were ticking by and Y/N knew that soon she would have to return home. She spent most of the day reading, playing music, and drawing with the boys. They were decent at it, but she felt she had a leg up on all of them. Finally, she knew that their time was coming to an end. The band began to get out their instruments.

"Are you ready?" John asked, letting her strum his guitar.

"Ready as I can be for now." She replied with a frown.

"Hey, just remember that you'll see us again very soon. We have to wait over 40 years!" John laughed, giving her a one last hug.

"He's got a point." George added.

"John wrote most of this one, but it has a piece of all of us." Paul said, turning to Ringo to set the tempo. Y/N clutched all of her items she was willing to take. Her writing clutched in her arms.

"Here we go!" Ringo nodded to the others and they began to play.

"There are places I'll remember, all my life, though some have changed. Some forever, not for better. Some have gone and some remain." They began. She could feel the haziness begin. Somehow this new song had the same effect as Yesterday. Maybe it was the emotion put behind it. Paul was emotional about the past and now they were emotional about her leaving.

"All these places had their moments. With lovers and friends, I still can recall. Some are dead and some are living. In my life, I've loved them all." She sang under her breath. She knew that a part of this song was dedicated to Pete Best and Stuart Sutcliffe which made her smile. She was glad they were recognized for what they did and the tragedy of Stu.

"But of all these friends and lovers. There is no one compares with you. And these memories lose their meaning. When I think of love as something new." They continued and the haziness became fuzzier. "Though I know I'll never lose affection. For people and things that went before. I know I'll often stop and think about them. In my life, I love you more. Though I know I'll never lose affection. For people and things that went before. I know I'll often stop and think about them. In my life, I love you more." Now everything was almost black.

"Goodbye, Y/N." They all said.

"In my life, I love you more." The song faded and she awoke on the floor of the studio again. All of her things were with her, including her writing.

"There you are, luv." A familiar voice said. She looked up to see Paul, now much older again, standing above her with a large smile. "I missed you."

"I missed you too." She smiled, standing up to hug him.

"It's been awhile." He laughed. Y/N chuckled, releasing him from the hug and sitting on the piano bench.

"Really? It feels like just yesterday..." She smirked. Paul laughed, grabbing something off the top of the piano.

"And this is for you." He smiled. She couldn't believe it. It was a photo album/scrapbook. Inside were pictures of the time she had spent there and some pictures of what happened afterwards.

"Are they all alive?" She asked. Paul nodded and she hugged the book with glee.

"Do you want to see them?" He asked.

"Well of course!" Y/N shouted.

"Who first?" Paul asked, tapping the book.

#paul mccartney #paul mccartney x reader #george harrison #george harrison x reader #john lennon #john lennon x reader #ringo starkey #ringo starkey x reader #ringo starr #ringo starr x reader #the beatles #beatles fic #fanfic #beatles fanfiction #beatles fandom #time travel #cross posted on ao3 #wattpad

11 notes · View notes