#beatles fanficion

[waveofahand]

John is pining away...

He's listening to Frank Sinatra sing songs to slit-ones-wrists by. Boozy, bluesy music, and every song seems to pull John Lennon further and further into missing Paul McCartney. And then, John opens a gift Paul had given him after they'd returned from Japan in 1966, and well... there is an awful lot of truth comes pouring out of it. And John, all alone in the Dakota, sometime in the early 1970's, falls apart. It's a one-shot, only the second fanfic I ever wrote, but I just re-read it and thought I'd share it. It's very romantic and very, very sad.

[idontwanttospoiltheparty]

girl your pinned is beatles fanficion, you're gonna get eaten alive if you blaze it

the angel and devil on my shoulder

[likesomekindofcheese]

Hc request!! Fem!reader borrows(wears) the Beatles clothes?(the situation is up to you! Thank you very much~)

Sure thing!

cw: mentions of sex and post doing the do.

John: 

You had been running an errand and right as you left that store/bank it poured rain.

You cursed as you rushed to the car, the weather this morning said it wasn’t supposed to start until it got dark!

But even the quick dash of getting in and out of the cat left you soaked, it was that heavy.

You rang the doorbell and John opened the door to see you outside looking like a wet dog and he at once pulled you inside.

“Oh, Y/N, you poor thing! Get changed: you’ll feel better!” he said.

But all of your “comfy” clothes were in the laundry so with a twinkle in your eye, you put on John’s grey sweater and his pajama pants.

Once you walked out, he grinned devilishly.

“Where'd you get that, little girl?”

“I saw it in stock and couldn't resist,” you answered, biting your lip.

He sat down on the sofa and pulled you onto his lap, brushing your wet hair out of your face.

“You should wear me clothes more often,” he prodded, moving in for a peck on the lips.

Paul:

Looking into the closet, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of Paul’s clothes.

They were all coded and set by color, looking a little like a painting where subtly one hue ended and slowly morphed into the next.

So you pulled out a light blue blouse and a wool blazer, which still had a few colorful pins on the breast pocket. It smelled like him and was very warm.

As Paul was downstairs reading, you walked down to surprise him: or you tried, but you were having trouble with the pants.

Paul looked up for a bit and right as he saw you and was going to say something-

Fwoop!

Your foot got caught in the long pants and you fell onto the floor, catching yourself with your hands.

Paul laughed so hard he couldn’t breathe and neither could you.

“You alright?” he asked, checking for any bruises, though your smile showed otherwise.

“If you’re gonna wear that darling, be careful!”

George:

You felt the warm washcloth over your legs and looked to see George’s brown eyes, his hair was misled, his skin flushed, his neck marked, and his lips flushed, but glowing.

“Are you alright, angel?” he asked. 

“Never better,” you answered, with a melted smile on your face. “Just a little...cold, I guess.”

He smiled a little bit and then went over to his chair where a white t-shirt was draped over it- worn but not dirty enough to be discarded.

“You can have this-it’s cozier than it looks” he offered.

You put the shirt over you and smiled, it smelled just like George. 

He put on a pair of clean boxers and laid down on the bed. He pulled you to rest your head on his shoulder, one hand tracing your back. You played with his hair by twirling a finger through a dark lock.

He looked down at you, “it’s a good look on you. The shirt, I mean. It’s almost a dress.”

“Then we should do this more, then I’ll wear this all the time.”

He kissed your nose, “that can be arranged.”

You never felt closer to him.

Ringo: 

“I can’t believe we’re doing this!!” you squealed, hopping onto the costume trailer for The Magical Mystery Tour.

“As long as we don’t get food or anythin’ on there, we should be good!” Ringo assured, taking your hand as you looked at the row of costumes.

You passed by sweaters, wooly walrus suits, and even a few ballgowns.

Ringo eyed one of the lovely gowns, pulled it up, and said “wouldn’t you look pretty in this, love? I couldn’t dance if you were in that scene, though. I’d be too busy looking at you!”

As tempting as it was, you looked down “which ones yours, Ringo! I wanna try them!”

He nodded eagerly and showed you his costumes: his white tuxes, his floral tunic.

You selected one and asked Ringo to close his eyes.

“Ok...now!” you cheered.

He opened, slack-jawed to see you in his iconic hot pink band suit from the cover of the album!

You twirled around in it.

“It’s bloody perfect, Y/N! If only I had me camera!” he said. 

You played a little with the gold and blue trimmings.

“It was my favorite one! Though I can never resist the sight of you in a tux, Ritch!” you teased with a wink.

You have been with this man for years and he still grinned boyishly everytime you gave him a compliment. 

[withinyou-withoutyous-blog]

If you want to follow me on instagram for more Starrison content ... You can look for me as @ pobbsr.harrison

[waveofahand]

CHAPTER 8: "Go Swallow Yourself..."

Apologies for the month-long wait for Chapter 8 of "Here, There and Everywhere" (Book III of "Carry that Weight"), which is called "Go Swallow Yourself." I was blocked, plain and simple. I couldn't focus on Beatles things at all. But here we are, and it's Paul's birthday in real life, today, so happy birthday, Paul, and let's get on with the show!

We begin with an amusing Beatles meeting -- Paul is insulted to learn that his very deliberate insults towards America didn't land as insults at all, while John's off-the-cuff remarks might be causing problems. Then we throw a little gossip and nosiness into the boys' business, enough to get Jane worried and reaching out to... someone. Then the meeting concludes and the lads want to get high.

And then... a mysterious visitor shows up at the place where Paul's tormentor is recovering, and this person has entirely too much fun kicking the man while he is down. I mean, really, just seething, spiteful, malicious fun at the expense of a man in a wheelchair. An evil man in a wheelchair, I grant you. I'll let you try to figure out who the visitor is. And what happens next.

Chapter 8 can be found here, at A03.

Ummmm.... no, it ain't Paul, love. But that's because this is The McLennon Angst Series, innit? And when we say angst, we mean angst!

[likesomekindofcheese]

Tutoring the Beatles in a foreign language Hc, blurb, anything you want;))

Ofc!!! Let me do German as the language since that is the non-English language I am the most familiar with.

cw: swearing

Paul would be the most studious one. He would pay close attention to you and want to get every one right.

One day he brings over flashcards of all of the various articles in German: die, das, der, and when to use which one. You are so impressed you consider having him teach the others and he said it would be worth it to be by your side with a wink.

John would be the naughty one always getting in trouble. He would stick pencils up his nose to get the others to laugh but as soon as your head it turned he’s normal. “I’m jus’ takin’ notes, Y/N!”

Though he would be that bastard in class who barely studies yet somehow retains information. So when you ask him to have a conversation with you in German about the weather, he says “Meine Schoenheit, die Sonne ist hell, mag deinen Augen” (My beauty, the sun is as bright as your eyes”), hitting on you in German which make you smile and bite the inside of your cheek.

George would get into the beauty of the language. He would spend hours looking up words to see what they mean but when it comes to having to try to order something in a restaurant blank out.

“Uhhhhm, ich mag...chocolate?” he would say, so then when you correct him and he gets it right, he has a big smile on his face (you bet he has all the food names memorized).

Ringo would be the most stressed about it and worry in class, so when he manages to hold a conversation very well he cries a little bit. “Ringo, don’t fret! You’re doing well and it’s fine if you make a mistake!”

He enjoys writing in German a lot and sometimes writes you sweet little notes. “Danke Schoen fuer die Klasse I'm Deutsch, Liebling!” with a cute doodle of all of them (thank you very much for the German classes, darling!). He likes the causal little phrases because it’s the real deal for the people.

So you teach him to swear  in German, like Scheiss (shit) and Arschkalt (ass cold) and he loves to use them.

[withinyou-withoutyous-blog]

Ringo to George, during the third date: "If your left leg is Thanksgiving and your right leg is Christmas, can I visit you between the holidays?"