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head 1968

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the monkees are so stupid and great as a concept because they dont sound real. yeah they werent supposed to exist for real but they went rogue and killed their producers or something. the guitarist is a bassist and the bassist is a guitarist and the drummer is the only guy who couldn't play the drums. the government wants them dead and they went from starring in a silly kids sitcom to producing their own psychological surrealist horror movie that features just a real guy dying for real, in the span of like. a year. orgy mansion and secret fbi files. can someone put them out of their misery

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loving the fact that Paul would use his flirty, sad boy eyes on ppl to get what he wants😭 so here’s a mini comp of his eyes and getting what he wants

[add on more if yall feel!!]

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Do you have instagram art account?

I don't have Instagram, sorry anon D:

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The Beatles interviewed in 1964, London airport after returning from Paris, France

PAUL: Wilder stuff I think, we- we stuck in a wilder number y’know… to finish off with-

JOHN: [mutters] ‘Gone With The Wind’

PAUL: [Instantly looks at John] ‘Gone With The Wind’ [laughs]

INTERVIEWER: They go for the Elvis Presley type of stuff though do they? I mean do they go for the rock and roll stuff?

PAUL: I think so yeah, a bit more. I might- [Paul stutters and John’s head snaps up] It depended really who was in… upon… [misspeaks and looks down at John as if he wants him to tell him what to say] depended upon who was in [John and Paul both laugh looking at each other] I- I can’t speak. Speaking French so much, you see

INTERVIEWER: What?

PAUL: *imitates French*

[John smiles and turns his whole body towards Paul]

INTERVIEWER: You’ve brushed up your French, have you?

PAUL: Nah, kidding I can’t speak a word of it.

INTERVIEWER: You still can’t speak a word?

PAUL: No… [Suddenly looks down at John] John’s… very good-

JOHN: *imitates French*

PAUL: Je- Bonsoir and all that sort of stuff very- oh he’s very good.

———————

NOW. I might be going crazy- but it sounds like John says something like ‘je vous veux’ (I want you) or ‘je vous aime’ (I love you) when he ‘speaks French’, although his pronunciation still has a prominent Scouse accent to it.

As with most clips, the audio quality is very poor and it’s very faint but anything is possible when these two are involved… If anyone speaks French please tell me if I’m onto something or if I’m going crazy lol

Adds a new layer to the ‘My Cheri’ home recording of John……

All the French aside, Paul is soooo obvious this whole interview. He interacts with John every chance he gets- that moment when he misspeaks and instantly looks at John so they’re both in on the joke- I mean come on…

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“Is this a self portrait?”

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leaning in leaning back

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These images are so narratively compelling to me. the sword swallower pin. the looking up vs looking down. the mirrored photo composition... They really were the blowjob brothers.

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if there's one mclennon thing i am absolutely certain of that i refuse to hear anything to the contrary about it's that paul and john fucked in paris in 1966 while john was on a break from filming 'how i won the war'

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Just John Lennon asking himself if he ever fucked Paul or if he should when he turns 40…

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October-December, 1973: A drunken and reeling John wails through an increasingly tangential rendition of Lloyd Price’s ‘Just Because’. 

JOHN: Just because you left and said goodbye / Don’t you ever think I’m gonna sit here and cry / Even if my body should tell me so / Darling I would never never never let you go / Just because you think you’re so smart / Just because you think you break my heart / Because I let your mind tell me so / Well listen now darling I would never let you go.

Well you think you’re so smart / Breaking everybody’s, everybody’s heart / I need some excuse to be doing this / I need some relief from my obligations / Just because you’re so sweet / Just a little cocaine will set me right on my feet / Whenever I’m so blue… / Yes sir that’s my baby / No sir I don’t mean maybe / You know I like it just like my mama and my papa used to do / I like it the same old way / Just go from the head, from the top…

I know you love me / I just wanna know / Just tell it to me baby / It’s all I got to know / Once more / Any time you, you feel like / I couldn’t / I just wanna hold you / I just… / Just because you left and said goodbye / Don’t you think I’ll ever ever say goodbye / Even if my heart should break in two / Darling I would never / I’d never make nothing without you. 

Just because you think you’re so goddamn smart / And even if my heart said, “Come on John, get it” / Before I let you, and before I let you get a grip on me / Darling I would beg on my bended knee / Baby you’re so smart / I want permission from you / All those mothers don’t know what they’re doing / Little by little by little / I need your love so bad it hurts me…

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do you like my pauls beatles tumblr

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Glastonbury 2004: Paul performing “Let Me Roll It” and changing the ‘you’ lyrics to male pronouns 👀👀

‘You gave me something I understand

He gave me loving in the palm of my hand”

He (John) certainly did Paul!! Well done, you've really earned that fistpump!! Good on you for telling the hundreds of thousands of people at Glasto that John liked your handjobs the best!! 💦💦👏👏👏❤️‍🔥 

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one thing that adds to credibility of Paul being closeted imo, is that often he is thought of as having this internalised homophobia, if not homophobia itself, because he always mentions how un-gay he is whenever some gay subject comes up in interviews

but like, there are so many things that disprove him being homophobic, it's not even funny. going to Paris alone with gay men? Paul did that two times (three if we count John lol) and that Peter Brown story is incrediblyy suspect. what homophobic man, scared of gay, sits on the bed of his male employee and his male fling that casually late at night in his hotel room and chats them up?

most likely reason, combined with his incredibly suspect lyrics, is that he is so defensive about his sexuality because he has something to hide

THATS WHAT IIIIIM SAYING!!!! like he is so comfortable w gay people and gay culture which on its own isn't suspect but it Is when people insist he's homophobic as a Reason He's Repressed Not Closeted. and once again I must remind everyone that john nearly beat a man to death for calling him gay and was still undeniably queer.

it's just like. imagine for a moment. with me. everyone hold my hand. not claiming this is true but walk w me along this path to get to current paul that isn't "he's just repressed and stupid and doesn't even know he's bi" but is instead MY speculative timeline (somehow this turned into a mini fic or something god help me but I'M SO SERIOUS IM SO SERIOUS THIS WOULD MAKE THE MOST SENSE TO ME WALK WITH ME HOLD MY HAND)

you are born in the 1940s. you are raised by a strict man who was physically abusive & in a culture that hates gay people. you grow up watching people get killed for being queer and being bullied over your feminine features that people think make you queer. you hit puberty and Shit Gets Harder because you start finding other men hot. elvis, for one! when you're 15 you start seeing a boy around that you think is hot and it turns out he's in a band and you fall in love with his looks and his voice and then him. and he's just as insane about you. you start doing increasingly sexual things together. eventually, you're having a full blown sexual affair. while writing love songs together and growing up together. and then he gets his girlfriend pregnant. and marries her. and you lose him, a little bit. he goes off and has an affair with your gay manager & when he gets home he ruins your birthday party by nearly beating a man to death for bringing it up. you wonder what he'd do if anyone found out about the two of you too.

and then the insane happens and you end up The Most Famous Band In The World. the ENTIRE world is watching your every move. the entire world loves you. they wouldn't love you if they knew. you get a girlfriend and it's convenient because she's always gone and you're always alone. but you still have him. and other girls. through everything, you have each other. even when he says something stupid and the world wants all of your heads on a platter and he starts to fall into a depression, you still have each other. even if now you Know how bad it could be if they ever found out. and then your manager, your father figure, an openly gay man, dies. and it's not a suicide, but a lot of people think it is, and sometimes you wonder, and fuck it's terrifying, isn't it? the reality of your life, the reality of loving Him, the reality of being queer. what if that winds up being You? you start to lose Him a little bit more as you throw yourself into your work and push everyone way too hard. you propose to your girlfriend. and then you do lose Him. to a woman. which was sort of unthinkable because he was already married and never cared about her, just you. never cared about any women, just you. but he cares about Her. and you fucking lose your mind. lose yourself in drugs. blow up your engagement. propose to another girl and many more "jokingly". your one girlfriend says you had to try again or you would have gone "raving queer" and killed yourself. the whole time you're losing Him more and more. suddenly he's looking at Her like he used to look at you. you're no longer his world and what the fuck do you have? a bunch of girls you don't care about and a drug problem? and then you meet a woman who, according to you, is more woman than anyone else. she's a mother already, a family ready made when you've always wanted one. she's smart and she's funny and she's quick and you let yourself cling to her because you don't have Him and he has Her so you've got to have someone, don't you? and she winds up pregnant and that's great, that's wonderful, you're no longer in danger of dying alone and queer and sad. you've lost Him by now completely, even though you have about a month where things feel a little less awful again and you perform together one last time. you marry her and you ASK people, flat out, if they expected you to be a 26 year old unmarried queer. you fight the night before you're married for some unknown reason, so badly she almost leaves you. and then He marries Her, and everything is fine. and then it all falls apart completely. you at least had Him as your friend, your writing partner, the other half of you legally. and then he asks for a divorce. and the world ends. you don't have the band, you don't have Him, you don't have anything. you stay in bed all day, drinking, miserable. like a breakup, not just of the band.

eventually, your wife pulls you out of it. you survive. you start writing again. you write to him. you put two beetles fucking on the cover of your second album and he thinks a song you wrote about your wife's ex is about him (and maybe it is, a little) and he shoots right back. and you keep that up for a decade. writing to each other. seeing each other only in the news and in snatched moments together where nothing is the same as it was. you plead with him through your music: why do you hurt me so bad? call me, pretty baby. I'm waking up screaming over you. I can't tell you how I feel. you try and make things like they were, even a little, showing up to his house with your guitar like you're 15 again, but he sends you away. in all that time, he's basically gone to conversion therapy. he's with someone who makes disparaging remarks about his sexuality. for you, you've let yourself embrace being a bit campy, but you still can't bring yourself to be open about any of it. not with anyone but your wife.

and then you start talking again. you make up. things seem hopeful. it seems like he might still love you and he writes you a song about starting over with you. and then he's murdered. and it's senseless. it's so so senseless. and it's unfair. you lock yourself away for days listening to that song he wrote you. the media tears you apart for grieving wrong. they wish you died instead. they think you're cold. you never loved him, not like he loved you. you write a song, with tear marks on the page, telling him how much you DID love him. all the things you'd say to him if he were there with you. you write more songs about that, all centered around that theme. some of them you say are about him. others you don't. once, you say if anyone catches on you can just deny it. but he wrote you love songs too, apparently, for you, and you eventually record them with your old band

and the thing is, You are one of his widows. his name follows yours every time it leaves someone's mouth. he's all anyone ever talks about with you. he's all you want to talk about too. his legacy is your legacy. he's no longer here to tell people about his sexuality, he's no longer here to consent to everything that you were being told. he's not here. and how can you even begin to mention Your Own sexuality without bringing him up? you owe him more than outing him in death. you owe Her more than that too, because you were already cruel to her and so was the world. she's grieving just like you, you can't do that. your wife dies, and now you're her legacy too and you being queer would seem like a betrayal to her. your best friend dies, and now he's your legacy too. you aren't just you- you're Him, you're 1/2 of the living members of the most famous band to ever exist, you're Her, you're your dead wife

so when someone asks you about him. when someone asks you about being gay or calls him the love of your life. What Exactly Are You Supposed To Say?

I wouldn't say shit either

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1977: Paul sings a wistful tune. (Note: A fragment; this is either all there is of the song or all that has been publicly released.)

PAUL: I can’t write another song / As long as you keep leaving / Day by day my nights are long / But I keep on believing / Some men fight for lovers’ rights / Some men fight for freedom…

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"Please Please Me was a John idea. John liked the double meaning of “please”. Yeah, “please” is, you know, pretty please. “Please have intercourse with me. So, pretty please, have intercourse with me, I beg you to have intercourse with me.” He liked that, and I liked that he liked that. This is the kind of thing in which we were matched up. We were in sync." -Paul (The Lyrics, 2021)

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Welcome to the McLennon Multiverse