#it was a bit of a beatles summer

[theoldmixer]

Things that made me crack up at the Liverpool Beatles Museum

Part 1--Pete and Paul getting deported from Hamburg

This was just hilarious dramatic. Also lol at the mom taking a picture of her son standing in this area.

Oh yes, they *had* to start a small fire to see. And hmm what was it exactly you lit on fire?

Paul's letter he sent to be allowed to go back to play in Hamburg after he was deported.

[ninthwonderoftheworld]

But fr this is one of the longest running fandoms I've been in

[get-back-homeward]

The US in 1968 and the White Album

Comment from BeatlesBible’s Helter Skelter page [x]

[withwritersblock]

Oh! Darling pt. 3

~Oh! Darling by The Beatles~

Author's Note: a bit of a fluff piece tehe Summary: Y/N and Quinn get a night away Warnings: none Word Count: 2,082 Quinn Hughes x fm!reader

July

Ellie was asleep in her nursery, it was well past eleven and Y/N and Quinn were still wide awake. Despite Quinn’s best efforts, he’s been gone a lot more than he’s wanted this summer. The NHL awards and the draft took a week of his time. His family was in town with him but the two most important girls in his life were still in Vancouver. 

He spent all day with Ellie practically attached at his hip, now he was spending time with his girlfriend. They were simply laying together in bed, watching Miracle. A movie that they can have in the background while they simply talk. It’s been too long since they’ve spent alone time together.

“What if Riley comes by and watches Ellie for the night while we go on a date?” Quinn asked as he rolled onto his side, meeting her gaze. She tilted her head down, her eyes squinting slightly. “What’s with that look?” he asked teasingly. 

She rolled her eyes playfully as she rolled onto her side, meeting his gaze. “Riley? Riley watching our four month old? Really?” she questioned sarcastically. Quin smiled as he dryly laughed. “She can barely watch herself!” she said while laughing.

“Would you rather my friends do it?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. She sighed while rolling onto her back, staring towards the ceiling. “That’s what I thought,” he leaned towards her, pressing his lips to the side of her head. “We need a night to ourselves, you need to be pampered and you need to get all dressed up,” 

“Oh really?” she asked. 

He hummed as he climbed on top of her, staring down towards her, “When was the last time you went out and got all fancy?” he asked while staring down towards her. She pouted as her hands ran up and down his chest before she looped her hands around his neck. 

“I’ll be getting pampered?” she asked suspiciously. He nodded while leaning towards her. He pressed his lips to her cheek for a moment.

“We’ll have the whole afternoon and night together, only if you trust Riley to watch Elliana for that long,” he said while scanning her features.

She was hesitant. Maybe it was easier for Quinn to spend a night away from Ellie because he’s done it so much already. She’s never been away from Ellie for a whole night, let alone leave her alone with someone who’s never been alone with a kid. 

“I’ll ask Riley, I’ll make a full list of everything she needs to do so it’ll be okay,” she mumbled. He leaned towards her pecking her lips for only a second.

“It’ll all work out, I promise, my love,” he whispered before he kissed her lips again. 

~Two Days Later~

Ellie was starting to eat some baby food, they have only introduced apple and banana to her as they were given a list to do one day at a time. Today Ellie was sitting in her high chair, waiting for Quinn to give her some food. 

“Alright, my baby girl, we’ve got peas or carrots, probably both gross but maybe good to you. I don’t know,” he spoke, a small laugh leaving his throat. Ellie simply babbled, not fully understanding what he was saying. He sighed, “Carrots will probably be better,” He set the peas container down on the counter.

He clicked open the carrots container, “I’ll give it a try first and then you, okay?” he said and she giggled. He dug the tiny green spoon into the suspiciously orange baby food. He brought it to his mouth, taking the tiniest bite. It was awful. “Oh-so good, so good,” he cringed out as he tried not to show his disgust. “You try,” he said as he dug the spoon back into the baby food and he airplaned it towards her.

She gladly took a bite, clearly enjoying it. “Better you than me, Darling,” he whispered as he smiled towards her. Quinn lifted his gaze to see Y/N standing at the door way. “Hey love,” he said as he met her gaze from across the room. “Elle Belle likes carrots,” he offered excitedly. 

“Clearly you didn’t,” she teased as she walked across the living room towards where Ellie and Quinn were.

“Shhh, she’s not supposed to know that,” he said with a teasing grin.

“You put on a good performance though,” she offered as she wrapped her arms around his shoulder. Tilting her head to the side she met his gaze for a short moment before she pressed her lips against his briefly. “Riley’s going to be here in thirty minutes,” she offered. He hummed as he switched his attention back towards his daughter.

“How does she like this stuff?” he asked as he gave Ellie another spoonful. She gladly ate it no problem. Y/N giggled.

“She’s a baby, Quinny, she doesn’t know anything else,” she offered as she stared towards her little girl. 

“Yeah well wait till she finds out what ice cream is,” Quinn said smiling. She kissed his cheek for a few seconds.

“I’m going to get dressed and do my makeup. Any guidance on what I should wear?” she questioned as she slowly pulled away from him. Quinn watched her walk away.

“I’m wearing a suit, if that helps my love,” he let out, a grin oon his lips. 

“It does, thank you,” she said as she hopped and walked excitedly towards their bedroom.

After thirty minutes, Riley arrived. Not knocking per usual. “Where’s my beautiful date for the night?” Riley called out as she walked into the apartment. Quinn chuckled as he stood up from the couch as he held Ellie to his side. “There she is! Ellie, my girl,” she said excitedly reaching for the girl. Ellie giggled as her arms reached towards Riley. 

“Amazing, I can start getting ready,” he said excitedly jogging around Riley towards his bathroom. Riley rolled her eyes playfully as she shifted her attention solely to Ellie. He jogged into the bathroom squeezing past Y/N. She was standing in a robe, styling her hair. She smiled towards him as he started ripping his clothes off so he could jump into the shower. She rolled her eyes playfully as she watched him.

It took another thirty minutes before Quinn was ready. Well, almost ready. Y/N stood beside him finishing her makeup while he was running his fingers through his hair, styling it. He was in his suit, the same one he wore when he won the Norris trophy. 

“Ri, you doing alright?” Y/N shouted as she tilted her head back, peeking towards the hallway. 

Riley smiled widely as she walked up to the doorway, no Ellie in her arms. The baby monitor in her hand. “Nap time started at three, she’s out like a light. I got this, you two finish getting ready and have an amazing night away,” she said smiling widely before she slipped away back towards the living room. 

Y/N shifted her gaze towards Quinn, smiling softly. “She’s got this,” Quinn offered while pursing his lips forward. She rolled her eyes playfully as she finished applying the last of her makeup. He smiled as he adjusted his collar as he stared towards his girlfriend smittingly. 

“I’m going to get my dress on and we can head out,” she stepped towards him, kissing his cheek before she wandered towards their bedroom. Quinn smiled to himself as he dropped his head. He walked out of the bathroom, towards the living room. 

Riley was planted on the couch, a blanket covering her frame as she was clicking through Netflix trying to find something to watch. “Thanks again for this Riley,” Quinn offered as he shoved his hands into his pants pocket awwardly. 

“Y/N’s been needing this, she’s missed you a lot Quinn,” Riley said as she smiled a wide grin, “I’ll be full time babysitter if it means you two get to be Quinn and Y/N again.” she said. Quinn smiled as he dropped his gaze to the floor.

“Thanks Ri,” he mumbled, shyly. “She’s got to get up at four if she’ll be asleep by eight. And you want her to be asleep by eight or else-”

“She won’t sleep at all, I know Quinn. I got this, remember?” Riley offered. Quinn chuckled nervously.

“Right, yeah. We just haven’t left Ellie alone with someone who’s not our moms,” he said with a chuckle. “But between Isabella, Luke, and Jack, we trust you the most,” 

“It’s not the fact that I live in Vancouver and Isabella lives in Michigan. Luke and Jack are Jersey, none of that matters?” she asked sarcastically. He shook his head laughing.

“Even if any of them lived in Vancouver, I would never leave them alone with my daughter until they have their own kid,” he explained while laughing, he lifted his gaze to see Y/N walking towards them in a short black dress. It was flowy, had semi-long ruffle sleeves. “Oh, wow,” he let out breathlessly. 

She shyly dropped her gaze towards the floor before she continued walking towards him. “You like it?” she offered as she took in a deep breath. He nodded dramatically, a wide grin to his lips as he walked towards her.

“You look amazing,” he mumbled, taking a hold of her hand, spinning her. 

“Okay, stop making me sad and more single than I already am. Go out, don’t make another baby, and come back refreshed,” Riley expressed, her face squirming up in disgust. Quinn and Y/N chuckled as Quinn took a hold of her hand and guided her towards the door. 

“No promises, on the baby making,” Quinn teased, Y/N shoved him slightly as they giggled. They continued out of the apartment, hand in hand. 

“So where are we heading, my love?” she asked as she began to swing their hands back and forth. 

“We are going to that fancy restaurant you love, and then we are going to go walk downtown and then we are going to a very fancy hotel with very amazing room service,” he explained. 

“You don’t have to spend that much money on this day, Quinn-”

“You deserve to be pampered, my love,” he whispered as they entered the elevator to the parking garage.

“But this is too much,” she whispered as she turned to face him. They waited for the elevator to reach their floor. Quinn reached his hand over, brushing the small piece of hair away from her face. 

“You deserve a lot more than what I planned for tonight,” he leaned towards her, delicately kissing her as the elevator doors opened.

~~~

They stopped on the path, turning their gaze towards the water. The moonlight was cascading over the water, illuminating it. She stared towards the water, smiling softly as she inched closer to Quinn. He switched his gaze towards her, pressing his lips against her forehead, “What are you thinking, my love?” he asked softly as his hand ran up and down her back. 

“Did you think at fifteen this would be our life?” she asked as she continued looking ahead of her. He furrowed his eyebrows as he hummed. “I honestly thought we wouldn’t make it,” she dropped her head.

“Why’d you think that?” he asked. She pointed towards the small bench closer to the water edge. He followed her towards the bench, sitting closely beside her. 

“I knew you would make it, I knew you would be drafted to some team and you would be successful. I thought that we would do the long distance thing and we would fizzle out. Like a lot of high school relationships do. But you asked me to go Vancouver with you and I was going to say no. I really was but I agreed and I never looked back,” she paused, taking a deep breath. “You’re my dream Quinny, our daughter is my dream,” she mumbled out meeting his gaze. He swallowed hard, blinking tears away from his eyes. 

“Where’s all this coming from?” he asked, choked up slightly. She smiled towards him.

“I don’t know, maybe I’m just happy,” she expressed a soft grin to her lips. 

“Maybe I’m just happy too,” he whispered as he leaned towards her, pressing his lips against hers. He reached his hand up, resting it onto her cheek for a moment. He glided his hand from her cheek towards the base of her neck.

[wingedhallows]

women shouldn't curse; sirius black

pairing: marauders (sirius black; platonic - flirty) x reader | 1k words prompt: "women shouldn't curse" "get fucked" authors note: hi, i hope u like this :)

navigation

The smoke filled your lungs, a satisfied sigh sounded from your lips. James extended his hand and demanded the bottle in your hand without a word.

You gave it to him and leant your back on the railing of the balcony. The night air caressed your cheek, a shiver made its way down your spine.

“Who was the red head you buttered up earlier?” James asked, Sirius had to chuckle. It was no secret that the young Gryffindor was adored by many, men or women.

He didn’t take up on many offers though. Sirius blew some smoke from his own cigarette and gave James a smirk. “Morrigan.” He answered. Remus had to roll his eyes, taking another sip from his drink.

“She’s been at it since last year.” Remus added, leaning back against the wall.

Lily made her way to the four of you, Marlene right behind her. You held your pack of cigarettes for the blonde girl, who took one with a small smile on her lips.

“You got another one?” She asked, her hands fumbling with Sirius’ lighter. You hummed, of course she would take notice of your newest tattoo.

“Sirius made it.” You answered. “I tatted him as well.” Marlene chuckled and took a closer look.

“God, if I had the guts to be like you.” She spoke with a smirk on her lips.

Sirius and you were very much alike, long hair, piercings, tattoos and the nonchalant demeanor. James liked to label the two of you as long lost twins. 

James, Remus and Sirius were immersed in a conversation about their next big prank, Lily and Marlene had a lot to say about their plans for the summer break, occasionally asking you questions about potential places you could visit, places to check out and what else you should be doing while you all were still so young.

You didn’t pay much attention, the day was long and your social battery was slowly but surely running out. 

“Hi there.” A boy who had placed himself next to you with a beer in hand caught your attention.

He was short, about the same height as Peter. His red hair covered his eyebrows and slightly brushed over his eyes, his teeth sat crooked in his mouth and his stained Beatles shirt didn’t do him much justice either.

“Hello.” You answered, desperate to have this conversation end right now. He didn’t think the same apparently, because he kept talking.

“It’s rare to see Slytherins attend Gryffindor parties, let alone a dashing one as you.” The compliment was fine, it wasn’t something to sweep you off your feet but it was okay. You weren’t smitten though, not even in the slightest.

“I’ve seen you around the common room the past few years and thought to myself that I’d like to take my chance with you.” Your eyebrows lifted the tiniest bit as you registered another failed attempt of flirting.

You didn’t look at him, you were turned to your friends, a clear sign for a normal person but apparently not for this guy.

“My name is Barnaby, I’m a year under you.” He said, his hand suddenly on your elbow. You let your arm fall and decided to end this as fast as possible. This was getting ridiculous.

“Listen Barnaby, I’m not really-”Hello there, who’s that?” Sirius was by your side, his hand swiftly taking his lighter out of your hand to light his next cigarette.

“Hi, my name’s Barnaby.” He tried, his eyes glowing with hatred. He didn’t like Sirius butting in on his god awful attempt of flirting with you, you thanked Sirius internally.

“We were actually talking-”Remus wants to know when the deadline for herbology is.” Sirius interrupted the tosspot. You smirked at Sirius who brushed his hand through his dark locks, his piercings glistening in the dim light.

“The fucking project’s not due till friday.” You answered, blowing some smoke for good measure. Barnaby decided to butt in again.

“Women shouldn’t curse.”

He said, loud and clear. You blinked once, twice. Sirius eyebrows raised as he looked the slime ball up and down.

“What?” Sirius asked, as his eyes narrowed and he took another drag from his cigarette.

“Women shouldn’t use such crass language, it’s unbecoming.” He tried with a shrug of his shoulders.

Sirius took a step forward, to which Barnaby took a step back, immediately intimidated.

“What a bullshit statement is that?” The tosspot took a swig from his beer and looked at you once more before he spoke.

“It’s unbecoming, it’s a shame to hear such language from a woman this pretty.” Sirius was furious by now, his jaw tightened and eyebrows raised in a daring manner.

“You know what’s unbecoming? A bloody idiot like you, looking like this, thinking you could even have a chance with a woman like Y/N. Wake up dude, not a single woman on this planet would dare lay a finger on a cunt like you.”

Barnaby was baffled, his mouth slightly open. You sprung into action and put your hand on Sirius’ shoulder. He took a step back and gave you a curt nod.

“Barnaby, dearest, I don’t think that you should ever speak your opinions on what women should or shouldn’t say. It’s unbecoming to be hit on by a boy who looks like he hasn’t showered once in his lifetime. I’m honestly insulted that you think this could’ve worked, like please get out of my face.”

You turned around, ready to leave this idiot behind with Sirius in hand.Before he walked away, you turned around again. Sirius' hand was warm in yours as you once again faced the bloody git.

“Ah, one more thing. Get fucked.”

Barnaby turned around and left you both behind with fast steps. Sirius squeezed your hand with a chuckle.

“Well done, dove. I’m proud.”

You had to chuckle as you threw your long done cigarette off the balcony.

[bettyfrommars]

Dirty Metal Summer

a Dirty Dancing au

Part 3: Crimson and Clover

Eddie x fem!Reader & Steve x older!OC

masterlist playlist

18+MDNI, not too many warnings for this part just mention of losing a parent, hint to an abusive relationship, alcohol consumption, tons of awkward flirting, eventual smut, but very much a slow burn. Steve is in his mid-late 20's, aunt Kim is mid 30's to early 40's, or whatever age you are, dear reader.

wc: 4.5k

Summary: Hello! We're getting to know a bit more about the character dynamics, listening to some of Eddie's thoughts, and catching a glimpse at a third possible romance on the horizon. Preparing us for the wild ride that starts in the next chapter.

Songs for this chapter: Under the Milky Way/The Church Edge of a Broken Heart/Vixen Seek and Destroy/Metallica

The shores of the resort were thick the next day with people who worshiped the sun, playfully kicking at the water in their bathing suits, stretched out in their lounge chairs, glistening in layers of Hawaiian Tropic tanning oil.  

You, on the other hand, were still fully clothed, covered in SPF, under one of the big umbrella’s the resort offered with your headphones on to drown out the sound of the screaming children.  Your dad was in the shade next to you, absorbed in a book, while aunt Kim caught some rays on her backside in a black one-piece that was high at the hip, flipping through an issue of People magazine.  It was the Summer of Love issue celebrating the 1960’s with the Beatles on the front and the quote: “It’s 20 years later, do you know where your love beads are?”

“Don’t you want to get in the water, Bird?” Your aunt cooed politely, adjusting her big sunglasses on her face.

You shook your head, pulling your headphones down.  “I think I’ve developed a phobia of public watering holes.”

“Suit yourself,” she sat up and brushed herself off.  “I think I’ll take a quick dip.”

“Watch out for sharks,” you quipped, earning the weight of a magazine being thrown at your hip.

“This has been enough excitement for me,” your dad cleared his throat, placing a bookmark to save his spot, standing from his chair, knees popping.  “I think I’ll head in, get some writing done before dinner.”

“Later dad,” you mumbled, wishing you had an excuse to hide in a room by yourself all day.  

Once he was gone, Kim took a drink out of her water bottle and heaved a sigh.  “I wish the two of you would give this place a chance.  Look at that lake!” She stretched her arm out, pointing. “It’s breathtaking.”

You gazed out at the expanse of the cheery, vacation scene, bursting with melancholy.  “Mom would’ve loved this place,” you choked on the last word, not sure where that fresh pang of emotion had come from.  

Kim chewed the inside of her cheek, equally adrift in reverie, when a body stepped up to block the sun, putting her in its shadow.  “I was hoping I’d run into you again.” 

The body belonged to Steve, and he was shirtless, in a pair of navy-blue Staff swim trunks, short and slightly snug against his hairy thighs, and flip flops.  His lips were glossy, and even though he wore sunglasses, he had to shield his face with his hand, squinting against the sun so hard that his top lip curled.

Kim tried to speak so fast she coughed, wondering if she looked too frumpy in the suit she had on.  What was she thinking? He had to be a good 10 years younger than her, no way he was interested in—

“Kim, right?” He aimed a finger gun at her, but then he struggled a bit with your name, snapping his fingers to ignite recollection.

“And you’re Steve,” Kim's eyes couldn’t help but land on the silver chain nestled in his ample chest hair.  “Did you, um, are you working on your tan?”

It took him a second to catch what she was referring to, and then he smirked, pulling a crumpled polo from his back pocket.  “I jumped in to cover lifeguard duty for a buddy of mine,” and then he shifted his sunglasses to the top of his head and so did she.  “If you ever need a swimming lesson, I’m your guy.”

“You’re a swim instructor too?” Kim asked, impressed. Steve put his hands on his hips, accentuating broad shoulder muscles.

“Nah,” he shrugged, tucking his chin. “But I’d do my best.”

You dropped your gaze to the sketchbook you’d been doodling in, trying to pretend like you weren’t listening.  From the headphones around your neck, the song Under the Milky Way by The Church played and a handful of kids ran by you giggling, dusting sand onto your blanket.

Steve wished you a good afternoon just before he excused himself, seemingly headed back to the pool area.  You thought he’d been on his way somewhere else, but you were mistaken.

“I think he likes you,” you swirled a few doodles, raising an eyebrow.

“Noooo,” Kim gave a long protest, adjusting the straps of her bathing suit.  “He works here, it’s his job to be friendly.  

“Yeah? Is it his job to keep checking over his shoulder at you as he walks away?”

Kim peeked just as the man in question tripped over his own feet.  Regaining his balance, he waved and said, “I’m okay,” and then proceeded to put his shirt back on as he approached the lifeguard station. 

It was your turn to stiffen and feel tingly all over when you spotted Eddie strolling down the sidewalk from the main house, wearing a tool belt loose at his hips to accompany his denim and staff shirt attire.  

From the way he knocked that Lance guy out with one punch the other night, you wondered if his hand hurt.  Adjusting yourself, you wet your lips, as if he’d spot you or something, which was impossible from that distance.  He cut in front of the fenced pool area, heading for the outdoor bar that had a thatched roof like you’d see at a tropical beach.  For the first time that day, you noticed that Chrissy was working the area, carting fancy drinks around to the guests at the pool.  Her blonde ponytail bobbed as she turned from what she was doing to talk to him.  

She dipped her chin a few times in answer to whatever questions he was asking, and then he squeezed her arm affectionately before taking off again.  

“Do you want anything from the bar?” You got to your feet, dropping your Walkman to the towel.

Kim cocked her head, considering the question.  “Is it too early for alcohol?”

Eddie was back on the path, his back to you as he got further away, but your attention was on Chrissy mixing cocktails in a metal shaker.  

“I can see if they have mimosas?” You weren’t thirsty, really, but you were curious.  

Kim decided on a bloody mary and asked you to put it on her tab, slipping you a few bucks for a tip.  

The smile Chrissy gave you as you approached was polite, but it did not reach her eyes.  “What can I get for ya?”

You told her, fumbling over your words a bit, and then waited on one of the five stools for her to make your drinks.  She scooped ice into a Styrofoam cup and tossed in a jigger of alcohol. You noticed a gold, heart shaped locket around her neck with something engraved on the front.  

“Is it true you used to play with Vixen?” You asked, in awe.

Chrissy’s face fell and she paused to stare at  you.  “Who told you that?”

“Oh, um, Joyce, she, well—sounded like she was proud of you.”

Chrissy went back to work.  “That was a long time ago, back when life was good.”

“It’s not good now?” You were intruding, and you knew it, but still, you couldn’t help yourself.  

Chrissy scoffed. “You could say that. Lemon in your tea?”

You nodded, wondering if there was anything you could say or do to cheer her up.  

“How long have you and Eddie been together?” 

She frowned down at what she was doing.  “Eddie’s not my boyfriend,” she corrected.  “He’s like a brother to me. Known him since I was a kid.”

“Oh I see,” you pressed your lips together, trying not to appear relieved at that news.  

There was a lull of silence as she finished up and you felt compelled to fill it.  “I saw you play with the house band last night.  I think you’re really talented.”

You could hear the click of her molars gnashing together when she placed both drinks in front of you. “Playing lame cover songs for a no-name house band is the best I can do with my life right now. Music is the only thing I’ve ever cared about.”

You used some of your own cash to give her an even bigger tip and scooped up your drinks.

“Hey, wait,” Chrissy called after you. She rubbed her forehead and tried to smile.  “Listen, I’m sorry that I’m, that I’m being such a bitch,” she shrugged. “It’s been a shit couple days.”

You shook your head, cold drinks sweating in your hands, about to tell her that you understood, but the two of you were interrupted.  

“Bird, there you are,” you froze at the sound of Troy’s voice. “Glad to see you’re enjoying the amenities.”

Troy had a green and white tennis outfit on with a racket in his hand, and you caught the way Chrissy tensed and quickly turned away at his entrance.  She folded the tip you’d left and put it in the front pocket of her apron.  He came up close to  you—too close, invading your bubble—and so you shuffled back, bumping into one of the stools.  

“The staff is treating you well, I hope?” He leaned against the tiki bar, and it was not lost on you that Chrissy pretended to be so busy she didn’t notice him.

“Just about to bring this to my aunt,” you lifted the red drink with the celery stick sticking out of it. You glanced at Chrissy, but she went to the other side of the bar to help someone else.  “The service here is impeccable,” you said, loud enough for her to hear.

You headed out and he kept up, sticking by your side. “I’ll walk with you,” he winked.

“Great,” your smile was a tight, thin line.  

—-------

Eddie bent at the waist to sip from the stone drinking fountain near one of the utility sheds and splashed water on his face a few times, combing wet fingers through his hair so that his bangs were off his forehead.  He worked the cool water around the back of his neck, wondering if he had a sunburn.  He loved Indiana for the fall colors and the long winters, but the summer? The summer heat could go fuck itself.  

Water was still dripping from his chin and nose when Steve walked up, sunlight through the leaves making patterns on his face.   

“Did Robin mention we need to borrow your van tomorrow night?” Steve bent down to take a sip from the fountain after he asked it.  

Eddie pulled the bottom of his shirt up to wipe his face, exposing his stomach and trail of hair from his belly button to his waistband.  “As long as you don’t bring it back on empty. What’s wrong with your car?”

“We need to pick up a bunch of Robin’s stuff from her ex’s house,” Steve raised his brows high, locking them in place. “Girl is a bit of a psycho, I don’t want Robbie to go alone.

Over Steve’s shoulder, he caught sight of you making your way back to the umbrella with Troy by your side and he hoped that you were smart enough to know that guy was a piece of shit.

“I work late tomorrow, but I’ll help you unload when you get back,” the tip of Eddie’s tongue rested at the corner of his mouth, eyes darting to you again.  You weren’t some goddess from the cover of a hotrod magazine, or one of the metal babes who always tried to go down on him when he used to play shows with his old band, but yet, without knowing anything about you, the sight of you made his heart jump into his throat.

“Nah, we got it,” Steve talked as the two started walking.  “It’s just a mattress and a chair and some clothes I think.  I told her just to let them go, but it's the principle I suppose.”

“I get it man, believe me,” Eddie once drove three states just to get a rare Scorpions concert tee back from an ex who stomped his heart.

“Hey,” Eddie caught Steve before he headed off in the other direction.  “Jam at the Hideout tonight?”

They bumped fists. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

—-------

The movie Casablanca was the offering at the outdoor theater that night, and respective families cuddled on the lawn on their various blankets and camp chairs under cover of generous tree branches.  Halfway through, you excused yourself from your aunt’s company to find the restroom, and that was when you spotted Chrissy and Troy having what appeared to be a heated conversion at the curve of the sidewalk near the rose garden.  You ducked behind a tree just as Humphrey Bogart said one of his infamous lines on the screen.  

Since everyone’s attention was occupied elsewhere, no one but you saw the way Chrissy pointed in Troy’s face, only for him to snatch her wrist in a way that made you gasp.  She yanked her arm away and turned on her heel, but then he caught up and lunged in front of her.  Whatever he said to her then calmed things down for a moment, she stopped trying to break free, and then he cupped her face as if he were about to kiss her, but she shoved away again.  That time, he let her go.  Hands balled into fists in his pockets, head down, he stormed off in the opposite direction, toward you.

You stood very still, hoping to be mistaken for the thick trunk of the tree, and thankfully, it worked. You came around to glare at his backside, but then trotted after Chrissy.  She was long gone, walking as fast as her feet could carry her along the treeline, and you didn’t think she’d appreciate you screaming her name at the top of your lungs in front of the other guests.  

It was pure luck that made you take notice of something shiny on the ground, a pile of glistening gold on the sidewalk.

It was a necklace, a heart locket to be exact, much like the one you’d noticed around Chrissy’s neck earlier that day.  You ran your thumb over the engraving on the front and let the delicate chain drag along the back of  your hand.  

You were sure that it belonged to Chrissy, the clasp must’ve broken during the struggle with Troy.  You had to get it back to her somehow.  

—-------

“Where are you going?” Your dad asked as you sailed through the living room on your way to the door later that evening.  He looked at his wristwatch.  “It’s almost 11.”

You’d planned on him being in bed already.  “I, well, I ahh—” you scrambled for an excuse, something that wasn’t “I’m going off the property to where people fight and get drunk and listen to metal”.  You were 21 and technically, by the law of the land, could do anything you wanted, but anyone who has ever traveled with family is familiar with the tendency to be treated like a child infinitely.  He loved  you, he worried about you, and you didn’t want him to stay up all night pacing, so, you lied.  

“There’s a meteor shower tonight, and a bunch of the guests are watching from the boat docks,” god, you hoped he wouldn’t fact check you on that.

He shuffled some saltines absently out of a tin.  “You’re still coming on the boat with us tomorrow morning?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” you beamed, clenching the front of your jean jacket closed to hide the revealing shirt you wore underneath.  

You raced down the porch steps once you were able, dashing into the night with Chrissy’s necklace safe in your pocket.

—-----

A guy in a Black Sabbath shirt and a drastic mullet with hair down his shoulders moved out of the way for you as you crossed the bridge, and then you had to stand there and take a breath. Robin wasn’t with you and you hadn’t been invited to the Hideout this time, maybe they wouldn’t want you?  Surely you could find Chrissy at work the next day and give her the necklace then? Fuck it, you were almost there.  

You could hear the shrill feedback from a guitar and then someone speaking into a microphone.  Was that Eddie’s voice? Your heart raced.  People cheered at whatever was said, and then the drum beat kicked in a few times, followed by guitar riffs, and a woman’s voice singing the Vixen intro to Edge of a Broken Heart.

“I can't believe I could have been so blind

But love is strange

I thought about it for a long long time

But the truth remains”

You could feel the music in your chest.  Was that Chrissy? Perhaps it was the “band practice” Robin told you about, but the music didn’t sound at all like what you’d expect to hear from the conservative house band. The sliding door was open once you were in view, with people mingling outside, and you dodged around them, sucking in a plume of secondhand smoke from a passerby.   

Slithering through a few more bodies, you stepped right over the spot where Lance had gone down the night before, and then you had the perfect view of Chrissy exercising her impressive pipes on the microphone under a few ropes of tiny, pale string lights.  

Steve was on bass, hair flopping in his face, his mouth holding an “O” shape as he played. He had on a thin white tee that was soaked through with sweat on the front atop belted blue jeans.  Eddie arched back, exposing his throat, his fingers deftly working the strings on his smoke black Warlock guitar.  He had a Bark at the Moon shirt on with wide, ripped out arm holes exposing the tattoo work on his ribs.  His hair hung in his face when he bent over to play, a frown of concentration knitting his brows together.

Chrissy jabbed her fist in the air for the chorus and the crowd screamed it:

“I've been living on the edge of a broken heart

I don't wanna fall, I don't wanna crawl

I've been living on the edge of a broken heart

Don't you wonder why I gotta say goodbye”

She commanded the stage, playing guitar as she sang. You were too absorbed to realize that you had made your way forward and were right there front and center when Eddie glanced up.

He wasn’t expecting to see you, so he did a dramatic double take, nostrils flaring the moment your eyes connected.  Why couldn’t you just stay away?

A smile teased at the corners of your mouth, but faded to an unsure lip bite when he averted his gaze, scowl deepening.  He ignored you for the rest of the song. 

When it was over, there were cheers and whistles all around.  The drummer with the mop of tawny hair twirled one of their drumsticks in the air with a flourish and caught it, clapping the high hat.  Voices murmured around you as people fell back into conversation while they had a break from the volume of the amps, and you shuffled to the side, following Chrissy as she took her guitar off and held it by the fretboard.  She had on a cropped shirt with her shorts, golden hair loose and wild around her shoulders, her short fingernails painted black.  There were a few old, wooden apple box crates stacked on top of each other to act as a makeshift table, and she grabbed the neck of the beer that was waiting there to take a sip.   

Eddie continued to play, wailing on the guitar with precision, while Steve and the drummer followed his lead to the tune of Seek and Destroy by Metallica.

You tapped Chrissy on the shoulder, and she jumped.  “Oh shit, you scared me,” she said, spinning around. She checked around as if she were expecting to see someone else there.  “Where’s Robin? Is she with you?”

“No, I, just a sec—” you dug around in the front pocket of your jacket, panicking for a moment that you forgot to bring the locket with you. “I found this on the sidewalk, and I thought maybe you dropped it?”

Chrissy gasped at the sight of it and her eyes began to water.  “How did you–?” A sob caught in her throat, and she reached out to gently take it from you.  She shook her head in disbelief.  “I looked everywhere, I thought it was gone forever, I—”

“I thought that was you!” It was Robin, bobbing on the balls of her feet as she came up to nudge your shoulder.  But then, her attention turned to Chrissy and her face tensed with concern.  “What happened, why are you crying?”

“No, no,” Chrissy sniffed and opened her fist to show Robin the piece of jewelry.  “It’s my grandmother’s locket I told you about.  Bird found it.”

Robin bent to get a closer look and the two women knocked their heads together, sharing a laugh.  “The clasp is broken though,” Chrissy mused.  “It must’ve come off when—” she swallowed, deciding not to finish that sentence.  “I’ll take it into town to get it fixed this weekend.”

“Give it here, I’ll fix it for you,” Robin volunteered.  “Not only can I unclog a toilet, but I’m also pretty crafty.”

“Y-you’d do that for me?” She asked as she was passing it over.

“Of course,” Robin chuckled.  “I’d do anything for y—I mean, what are friends for right?”

Chrissy turned her attention back to thank you properly when Steve pushed in between the other two girls and slung his arms around their shoulders.  “What's going on?”

Robin cringed.  “Gross, Dingus, you’re all sweaty,” to which he shook his head and droplets from his hair flew everywhere, making the girls scream and push him off.

The three of them got into conversation about something and you sank back against the corrugated metal wall to observe.  You hadn’t noticed the music stopped but the drummer was in the crowd having a beer and just as you were on your toes trying to find Eddie, a warm body sank in next to you.  

“Hey,” Eddie said.

You looked just in time to catch his gaze traveling down your body, but then he was quick to lift his beer to his mouth and pretended to be watching the crowd. 

“Hey,” you returned, suddenly full sentences and conversation felt so foreign.  You were acutely aware that there was plenty of space along the wall, but he was pressed close, bare arm touching yours.  

“They let you stay out this late on a school night?” He grinned against the aluminum rim, amusing himself.  He had a second beer in his other hand, and he passed it to you.

“Ha. Ha.” 

He had one knee bent with his foot on the wall while the other leg stretched long to show the heavily scuffed toe of his black boot.  

You shuddered despite the heat.  “So, how long have you and Chrissy been playing music together?”

He hummed, shifting so that his bicep rubbed against you, squinting one eye shut in thought, tilting his head back.  “Been something like a decade now, I think? Feels longer.  Feels like I’m 60 years old some days.”

“How old are you though?” You swallowed so hard your throat clicked.  “45? 50?”

He leaned into you, hard enough to push you over if your feet weren’t planted, his hair skimming your shoulder.  “Close enough,” he paused to say something else, but then puffed out his cheeks and exhaled.  

He wanted to ask how long you’d been playing the cello, but how would he even know you did without admitting he’d watched you that night from the street like a stalker? “Do you think you’re gonna stick around, watch us play some more?”

“I could,” you were about to add something super cheesy like, “if you want me to,” but opted for nonchalant.  “I love watching Chrissy play.”

He nodded a few times, and pushed off the wall, handing you his beer.  “Hold this for me?” His silky brown eyes locked onto yours, the tip of his tongue resting between parted lips.  “Please?”

There you were, holding Eddie Munson’s beer.  He got behind the mic and took his shirt all the way off to wipe his face with it before strapping his guitar on.  The next song they did was an original, something that Eddie and Chrissy wrote, and Chrissy came in on backup vocals, while Eddie growled out the lyrics, banging his head every so often.   He swiped his bangs from his forehead, wet with perspiration, and his fingers worked like magic along the strings.  At one point, he and Chrissy shared the same mic, belting out the words.  

He made eye contact with you three times, not that you were counting.  Each time longer than the last.  When it was over, he came out and took his beer from you, fingers touching as he did so.

“Eddie, I think I—” you were about to let him know you should probably get going, but he’d already turned, chugging the rest of the beer as he went, and then they were right into the next song.  

Eddie wasn’t sure why you made him so curious, but the voices in his head were screaming at him to shake it off.  Somehow, he’d gone four years without getting involved with a summer person, he’d never even been tempted really.  Nothing good could come of it, especially since he’d probably end up being nothing but a vacation fuck for you to brag to your friends about.  

He glanced around but couldn’t find you during the song.  When he went to check for you at the wall, you were gone.  

---

thank you again for the love on this and for reading!

---

taglist: @micheledawn1975@kurdtbean@katethetank@elvendria@spookysqaush86@somethingvicked@stylesxmunson@laurenlokirby@sapphire4082 @kellsck @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @justdamnpeachy @dashingdeb16 @corrodedcoffincumslut @bexreadstoomuch @ohmeg@marrowfrog00

[seoul-bros]

Muse - an exploration of love

It now seems clear that Face and Muse were recorded in parallel, overlapping and intertwining. It's a situation which creates a thread of connection between the two albums.

It's largely the same production team as FACE with Jimin again participating in writing most of the tracks on the album. He has also turned his hand to producing on Rebirth and Interlude: Showtime.

Track 1: Rebirth

The first track seems connected to and leading on naturally from Set Me Free Part 2. Thinking back to the end of the MV where Jimin's clothes change from black to white, from leather to softer materials and his gaze is at last peaceful and penetrating, it all seeks to communicate release, reemergence and renewal.

Rebirth therefore is the moment beyond, when Jimin determines to embrace life and love again. It could be a declaration of intent to start telling the story of Muse.

Track 2: Interlude: Showtime

Which would make Showtime, the first step to embracing that new found freedom. It's an Interlude sure, but I keep getting a very theatrical image in my head, very bold, very Cabaret (if you're in London, I recommend you see the show).

Track 3: Smeraldo Garden Marching Band (feat. Loco)

We will get to hear Smeraldo Garden Marching Band in less than a week (aggggghhhhhhhh i'm not ready ......but at the same time so so ready). The track description says it "draws inspiration from a marching band, blending hip-hop elements with the big band sound characterized by a large-scale orchestra, creating an upbeat, lively rhythm and dynamic atmosphere." This gives me a stepping up, stepping out kind of feel.

Given the focus on The Beatles and St Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band during Face era and the involvement of Nick Lee in Set Me Free Part 2, I'm expecting more big brass and a full sound which Jimin seems to be drawn to - brass and choirs all the way baby.

I'd also expect to see some choreography here something like On but that might be asking too much.

South Korean rapper Loco is the featured artist. Looking through his back catalogue one of his most successful songs featured RM's long time collaborator Colde. It'll be interesting to see how their voices and styles combine here.

Track 4: Slow Dance (feat. Sofia Carson)

With Slow Dance, the seduction really begins. Arcades are Matt Thomson and Max Lynedoch Graham, a British electronic music production duo who we saw in the studio with Jimin in 2022 along with Gabriel Brandes and Alex Karlsson. Now we know what they were doing there.

Also involved in this one is Like Crazy co-writer BLVSH. Oh yes this bodes very well for this track.

So we're thinking EDM, maybe with a Latin feel. Sofia Carson has a unique voice which I think will pair well with Jimin and she has also been known to sing in Spanish and we know after SoWooZoo that Jimin is not adverse to that.

Track 5: Be Mine

Be Mine is still a bit of a mystery to me, given its placement on the album it would suggest that Jimin has found the objective of his affections and wants to solidify the attraction into something more. Will it be a ballad? The production is giving no clues and I haven't seen any credits yet. However, some eagle eyes on TwiX spotted a Be Mine reference from ID: Chaos.

Track 6: Who

This is the main track and the production team includes Jon Beillon who worked on last year's summer smash Seven so we can expect some focus on elements for commercial success.

There are more echos of ID:Chaos with he colour scheme for Who matching that from the Freedom shoot. It would be nice to think that Who reflects that particular sentiment i.e. this is who I am and knowing this has set me free to live and love as I choose.

Track 7: Closer Than This

We round out with Closer Than This which given its position on the album and the way it was previously released solidifies the message, this is me until we meet again. Our love is strong enough to weather the storm of this enforced separation. It is a message for the fans but also for the BTS members.

Post Date: 21/06/2024

[crepesuzette2023]

Beatles Books as vaguely defined friends and relatives at a party you attend with a new crush, whose name you keep mispronouncing.

The longer you stay, the more trouble you have remembering what the occasion was.

The lights keep changing. Shortly after you arrived, your crush shrunk to the size of a mouse, and scurried away. You’re on your own.

The Beatles (Bob Spitz) greets you, an attractive silver fox who seems to be shunned by most of the others. You wonder why. It’s as easy to imagine him as a crying wreck as it is to imagine him on a golf course. Here, There, and Everywhere (Geoff Emerick) disrupts your musings by pulling tapes from his mouth. Seeing your discomfort, he stops and hands you a photograph of John Lennon and Paul McCartney singing into the same microphone. As he does, his pupils take on the shape of hearts. Someone called George announces his intent to poison him.

Anthology (The Beatles) saunters in, puts eight arms around you, and promises to tell you the whole story. They proceed to speak in tongues, and throw popcorn at you. Stu Sutcliffe jumps from a pendant around their neck, lands on the floor, and scurries after your crush.

“It’s always like this,” says Body Count (Francie Schwartz). “I assume you don’t want to listen to my story about a gifted woman who got locked up for depression? That’s fine, I can also talk about frottage, and a certain man’s curves.”

“Oh, stop it,” says John (Cynthia Lennon). She turns to you. “My advice is: Turn around and run as fast as you can.” She demonstrates what she means by disappearing, leaving behind a purse filled with cheerful letters and drawings of herself getting married and giving birth. Everything smells of olive oil. Francie spots Loving John (May Pang), and rushes to her, greedy for gossip. Loving John (May Pang) is everyone’s favorite, because she doesn’t really know anyone very well, but she knows how to make everyone feel comfortable by saying things that make sense in the moment.

Living the Beatles Legend: The Mal Evans Story (Ken Womack) ends up taking her home; they both live at The Fringes. Her home is a little further than his, which is just this side of Weird whereas she’s all the way in Montauk, but he’ll make sure she gets there safely.

To make up for the disappearance of your crush, Remember (Mike McCartney) cuts your hair. Each snip of the scissors slots a black-and-white picture into your field of vision. Windows in time blow noise and heat in your face, and visions of a screaming band that looks a bit like the young Beatles. Then there’s the quiet heat of summer, towels rippling on the line, and a drain pipe screwed to the wall of a house. He talks about childhood, and you’re almost there, but you never will be, because he won’t let you in. His more verbose twin, The Macs (Mike McCartney), recites letters his brother and John wrote from Hamburg, but you can barely understand what he says, because he stuffed a tissue into his mouth.

“It’s only a story,” says The Lyrics (Paul McCartney). “Pleased to meet you. I’m a storyteller myself.” He sings a love song. “I must have thought about these things when I wrote it,” he muses. “Interesting. What a mind, as Linda used to say.”

He tears a few pages from a diary he kept in Paris in 1961 and hands them to you without comment.

At this point, the party is dissolving. Crocheted furniture floats away and stretches.

“Am I too late?” Skywriting by Word of Mouth (John Lennon) squeezes himself out of the lowest drawer of an antique desk, where, judging from by his crinkly pajamas, he slept. “I’m in pieces. Mend me with glue.”

“I will, I will!” Tune In—All These Years, Vol I (Mark Lewisohn) yells ecstatically. “I’m so glad you could make it Sit down with me and celebrate the heritage of Liverpool.”

Skywriting drapes himself around Tune In, who starts purring and rutting against him.

“Excuse me?” It’s The Fifth Beatle: The Brian Epstein Story (Vivek Tiwary), torero boots clicking on the invisible floor as he strides towards the couch. A spotlight follows him. “I’m managing this show, and I insist on expanding the scene.” Around them, a hotel room forms.

Skywriting lights a cigarette. “Join us in bed, Bri.”

“Yes,” moans Tune In. “I’m so lonely. I’m the oldest of a triplet, or so they say, but the other two haven’t been born yet.”

The Fifth Beatle sits down and observes the unhinged biography losing himself in the friction of rubbing against the shapeshifting Skywriting. Finally, things reach a conclusion.

“And so,” says The Fifth Beatle, “what partially was, finished.”

“Stop repeating lines from a bad movie, Brian," says Skywriting, "you’re better than that.”

As you try to plot ways to escape through the skylight, The McCartney Legacy, Vol 1 (Sinclair & Kozinn) slides out from under the bed, a broad-shouldered lady in a bright red dress. A half-hatched alien with long legs and sunglasses squirms between her breasts, and makes mouth percussion sounds.

“Gentlemen.” The McCartney Legacy retrieves a very, very long rosary from her pocket. “Is anyone interested in an exquisitely crafted, finely wrought chronology?”

At the sound of the word “chronology,” The Beatles (Hunter Davies) crashes through the ceiling.

“Don’t fall for it!” The Beatles snatches the vocalizing baby alien from The McCartney Legacy’s chest, and kills it by wringing its neck. “Time stopped in 1968. The only valid extension are my own salacious additions. Strictly off the record.”

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that,” says The Fifth Beatle.

You exchange a glance with Skywriting, who is plucking pieces of Tune In from his body like children snatch pieces of dough, and sticking them in his mouth.

A camera clicks.

“Excellent.”

The Eyes of the Storm (Paul McCartney) lowers the camera, and changes into a suntanned, gleaming likeness of George Harrison. Then he changes into a fish.

“Everyone looking at the pictures will think they know,” the fish says. “They’ll have no idea!”

The floor dissolves under you. You fall into a pool, just in time to save your crush from being sucked into the drain, and after a barely audible edit you find yourself back home, with no memories at all, the taste of chewing gum in your mouth, and wearing matching tops saying, I visited Fellini’s Satyricon, and all I got was this lousy t-shirt. (ETA: I can't believe I forgot about Dreaming the Beatles (Rob Sheffield). I guess I'll have to include him in the inevitable sequel to this...thing, as the +1 of John and Paul: A Love Story in Songs (Ian Leslie).)

[stopaskinf]

“Boy I’m trying to catch myself, but I’m out of control”

Songs Ateez boys remind me of:

Summary:^ title explains it all

Genre: fluff, Ateez x fem reader

CW: Cursing in some of the songs, sexual themes in some songs

Word Count: I dead couldn’t bother 🙂‍↕️

A/N: Exhaustion has hit me like no other🙃🙃

Hongjoong:

🐿️I’ll Kill You- Summer Walker

🐿️Shameless- Camila Cabello

🐿️Woman- Harry Styles

This man is insane. I feel like Hongjoong’s love is incredibly intense. He doesn’t let people in, so the ones he does? They’re staying. He’s also shown himself as possessive, jealous, and lowkey obsessive. He’d keep you chained if he didn’t understand the importance of autonomy.

Additional songs: Rattlesnake- Tsar B

⭐️Enjoy the Silence - Depeche Mode

⭐️Insanely Jealous of You - The Soft Boys

Seonghwa:

🐰Boyfriend- Dove Cameron

🐰Slumber Party- Ashnikko

🐰If I was your Girlfriend- Prince

Ok, so Seonghwa is not beating the lesbian protector allegations. Seonghwa’s love feels magical. Most of these are WlW songs because Seonghwa feels like the type to know women intimately. He feels almost maternal in the way he loves you. You’re not sure if it’s on purpose or not.

Additional songs: Virgo- Stwo

⭐️Hidden Place- Bjork

Yunho:

🐶Dream Boy - waterparks

🐶Blueberry Eyes- Max

🐶Want You in my Room- Carly Rae Jepsen

Yunho is quite literally a golden retriever boyfriend. He’s the dream boy you make up when you think of a man you’d want. He’s the boy next door who you’ve known since you were kids playing house. He’s nice, sweet, caring, and he loves you wholeheartedly.

Additional song: Next Door- Amelia moore

Yeosang:

🍃Cloud 9- Beach bunny

🍃Dream Boy- Beach bunny

🍃Please Like Me- ASH

Yeosang is such a little guy. When Yeosang is in love he’s lowkey a simp. He wants to impress you. He wants you to compliment him and make him feel pretty, even if it embarrasses him. Although, as much as he wants to be babied, he’s nervous. He feels the need to prove himself even when you guys get together. You always let him know you appreciate his efforts.

Additional songs: Venus as a Boy- Bjork

⭐️Come to me- Bjork

Mingi:

🐣Aphrodite- Rini

🐣Come See Me- Teenear

🐣I Miss You- Bjork

Mingi is a clingy bastard. We’ve all seen the way he acts with Yunho. He acts that way with you, but 10x worse. He feels a tad bit like a hopeless romantic to me. I feel like he’s the type to think he manifested you because you’re exactly his ideal. This man worships you.

San:

🐱Water- Kehlani

🐱Too Much- Carly Rae Jepsen

🐱Kiss Me through the Phone- Soujia boy

San was a little hard to choose for. The thing about San’s love is that he’s no doubt devoted, but he’s also chaotic. Not so much as Wooyoung, but he can be a handful. His intensity and clinginess almost rival Mingi. Very much the type to throw himself into your personal space because he misses you. He wouldn’t die without you, but his life would be far, far worse.

Additional songs: Cheating with You- The correspondents

⭐️Don’t Bother Me- the Beatles

Wooyoung:

😜Violently Happy- Bjork

😜Deja Vu- Beyonce

😜Drunk in Love- Beyonce

Lord, this man. Wooyoung is as chaotic and complimentary in love as he is in everyday life. You’ve adopted an unruly child who loves you unconditionally. He’s another one where his love borders on obsession. Well, more of a hyperfixation. There will never be a moment where he shuts up about you. Everyone who knows Wooyoung knows about you at this point.

Additional song: Kiss- Prince

Jongho:

🧸Pagan Poetry- Bjork

🧸No Drug like me- Carly rae jepsen

🧸And I love Her- The Beatles

Jongho next to maybe Hongjoong or Seonghwa has the most intense feel. When Jongho is in love, it’s quiet, but he has so much inner turmoil. Another who feels it is hard to let people in. So, when he does, he kinda freaks out at the depth of his own emotions. However, that doesn’t deter him, if anything it emboldens him.

Additional song: When I’m 64- the Beatles

[prettyoddfever]

I used to think that Spencer had a specific vision for the cello part of IWSNT that was inspired by Eleanor Rigby. This was just my own random conspiracy theory back then btw so it doesn't hold any actual weight. But hear me out...

So a big part of AFYCSO was created in the studio in summer 2005. The band talked a lot about how they bounced ideas off of each other and the fact that they had such varied musical tastes helped the album become what it is. Ryan wrote most of the lyrics, but the whole band was involved in creating the songs & music.

Ryan told East Coast Rocker in spring 2006 that “We all had so many ideas, and we were so excited that the songs just came out. The first half of the record is comprised of the first set of songs we wrote as a band.

Brendon said in summer 2006 that "For the first half, we wrote the music first and then [Ryan] wrote lyrics to sort of fit the feel. For the second half, the songs, Ryan would write lyrics like this storytelling kind of picture. We would write music based around that."

Brendon told Hearts & Sleeves in early 2006: "The way it comes out I guess is just a product of everybody in the band having huge similarities in music but we also listen to a lot of different stuff.... A lot of that was Ryan would pop up and be like ‘I think it could do this’ and Iʼd be like ‘whoah’ and Iʼd add some pop to it. Itʼs just a mix of different combinations of where we come from."

Ryan told PlayMusic in August 2006: “Between us we had a lot of influences so we just thought, ‘let’s use them all!’”

Ryan talked to Helio at the end of the Fever era about the songwriting process for the first album: “when I had a little bit of the music and lyrics finished, I would bring it to Spencer and Brendon and we would all finish the songs together.”

The point is that they were all contributing to creating the songs (ok Brent not as much lol). Moving on...

The band said that they mostly worked on the songs in the order that they appeared on the album and that they tracked all of their music parts separately (ex: they said they started tracking drum parts in late June, the bass parts were done by early July, and then they moved onto guitar). The verses for IWSNT were written a few days before they finished recording around the third week of July, but they worked on other parts of IWSNT earlier that month too.

Brendon's livejournal post on July 3rd had the title "i look at all the lonely people…"

Ryan mentioned several times over the years that Spencer introduced him to The Beatles while the band was in the studio. Ryan specifically picked Eleanor Rigby as a "song that changed my life" for Kerrang Magazine and said “I started really getting into The Beatles when we were recording [AFYCSO]. Our drummer, Spencer, started playing me some of their stuff."

I used to like to think that Spencer played Eleanor Rigby to point out the cello and then that was where a tiny bit of the inspiration for the sound of IWSNT came from. Obviously Spencer could have played Eleanor Rigby for any number of reasons, sooo I guess the only actual solid takeaway is that that song *possibly* inspired the band while they were in the studio (and then they went on to cover it during the NRWC tour).

[jokeroutsubs]

[ENG TRANSLATION] Joker Out, or the return of faith in the power of music:

Original article written by Žikica Milošević for EXIT 13.07.2024. English translation by IG irenalemajic, proofread by IG gboleyn123

The second night of Exit Festival 2024 on the Tesla Universe stage was literally and thematically dedicated to pop music, specifically 'classic', 'old school' pop music. The most significant stage of the festival was marked by performers from Slovenia and Vojvodina, so the north of former Yugoslavia demonstrated how to create an atmosphere and memorable songs.

And it began powerfully, while the sun above Petrovaradin Fortress, after another day of being merciless, was still blinding the performers, because Astrid & The Scandals got on the stage at 7:30 p.m. restoring our faith in alter-pop, as well as in Slovenian talent to produce hitmakers. In the old Yugoslavia, Slovenians were always at the forefront of musical breakthroughs, dictating trends along the Ljubljana-Zagreb-Belgrade axis. Independent Slovenia no longer had a lead role and for many decades we did not hear performers similar to Laibach, Pankrti, Lačni Franz or Buldožer, but the situation has abruptly changed in the past few years.

Instead of avant-garde and peculiar performers, hitmakers and creators of great pop music are now coming from Slovenia. The bouncy Astrid energetically announced the 'new era', adding oriental elements to her music, dancing seductively and delivering vocal virtuosity. Undoubtedly, she is 'the next big thing' in pop music in the region, and with a bit of luck, in Europe as well.

It has not happened for a long time, that the atmosphere becomes so 'heated' already at 8 p.m, but Astrid had already raised the temperature and the girls in Joker Out T-shirts were in the front rows even during the performance of Ljubičice, which perfectly continued the series of performances this evening. Their concert is a kind of poetic justice - they were supposed to lead the Main Stage at Exit in 2019 at 8 p.m. but unfortunately, the storm cut the program short and 'plucked' them from the lineup.

In the meantime, the band from Pančevo, which is composed of the two Stevanović brothers, who got a classical music education, has grown into a trio, since Olga Petrović has recently joined them as the 'third flower' in their little bouquet. There's an old saying that 'Vojvodina is Britain and Belgrade is America' in music, and pop bands from Vojvodina are widely known for their fresh melodies and hit potential and Ljubičice who, with their 'brotherly and neighbourly' band Buč Kesidi, began to conquer the region even before the pandemic, gaining fame with the song 'Jedva čekamo rat ljudi protiv mašina'. Ljubičice are the kind of pop band we've needed for a long time, and if their songs reminded me of anything, it is the sunset in summer...of 1983. A mixture of funk, synthwave and nostalgia, combined with guitar and bass skilfulness, gave us an excellent overture for what will happen later. Vuk reminded the audience that they performed at Exit back in 2014 on the Jack Daniels Stage, when they were young and relatively unestablished – and now they command the stage as if they were born to it.

And then - Joker Out, heartbreakers from Ljubljana, form with substance, the best of both worlds. It was clear to us what to expect when, at the mere hint of their entrance, the screams of the girls began, which I remember from the documentaries about The Beatles. Love messages on cardboard signs, choral singing, fantastic communication between the band and the audience were evident right from the opening song, 'Katrina'.

Joker Out are much more raw and more guitar-driven during their live performances than on their 'polished' recordings and the influences of bands such as Arctic Monkeys or The Strokes are evident.

On the other hand, the fascination of the female part of the audience is completely understandable, because besides the fact that they really know how to play, all five members have a 'superstar vibe', in the way Duran Duran or Spandau Ballet once had the same vibe. I believe that the last time such a reception was registered was during the era of boy bands 20+ years ago, but the Jokers are anything but a boy band. Singer Bojan Cvjetićanin probably 'reaped' the biggest 'harvest' of love from the audience, but the other members are not that far behind.

Slovenian is 75% understandable when read or spoken, which drops to 50% when sung (and when thousands of girls are singing along with Bojan), but it's clear that the lyrics are engaged in a way similar to Buč Kesidi – precisely dissecting the everyday life of young people in a big city, their disappointments, dates, breakups, loves and sorrows...

Bojan won the hearts of the local audience from the very beginning by addressing them in Serbian and he also managed to make a 'population census' among the attenders. We saw that (incredibly loyal fan base) quite a number of spectators came from Slovenia, but that there were even more people from the other parts of the former Yugoslavia and even those who understand none of our languages ​​- simply driven by their love for the band that gained wider popularity at Eurovision in 2023.

The Jokers did not hide their exitement to perform on this already legendary stage.

The concert continued with a series of songs that are 'friendly' for parties, bedrooms, the beach and the radio - 'Plastika, znanstvena fantastika' and Bojan's sharp analysis of the 'culture' of plastic beauty made me look around and conclude that none of the girls in the audience were 'plastic' - which is a breath of normality and freshness we've been lacking now that we are wrapping up the first quarter of the 21st century. A better future is still possible, even though a worse present is dominant.

Joker Out jokingly call their style 'shagadelic rock' (translate it by yourself, but watch Austin Powers first), but there is nothing funny about their music. All of their songs are in Slovenian, except for two they performed in Serbian¹ (Bojan’s background allows him to play with languages and easily switch from one to another) and one in English.

In the song 'Tokio', they took us to Japan and sang part of it in Japanese too, previously teaching a 'little course on love expressions in Japanese.'

'The song that brought us here – 'Carpe Diem'!' – Bojan shouted and the audience received an infusion of energy and joy. Indeed, it was almost unimaginable 20 years ago that a 'schlager festival' would produce new stars and headliners, but Eurovision has become just that – a springboard. And it doesn't matter that they were 21st in the competition. Who cares about numbers – some performers are there to win points during the competition and some are there to conquer the world after the competition. The last song, 'Šta bih ja', was perfectly timed to be released on Friday, on the day of the concert – and it tells us, somewhat in the manner of 'Arctic Monkeys listening to Sarajevo pop', about the experience of life in London.

Joker Out brought 'sexy' back to pop music. We didn't lack cheap sex appeal all these years, but we did miss sophisticated and rock sex appeal. They brought the classic pop formation back big time – and we've missed it. They brought the energy back to the stage, female fans who travel to see them, scream their names and know all the songs by heart.

I can imagine the 'good old' days of girls' bedrooms decorated with their posters. Even if they hadn't recorded a single good song, all of this would have been enough and refreshing. But they recorded plenty of good ones. And somehow I believe we witnessed history and the beginning of a 'stellar' story with five guys from Ljubljana in the lead role.

¹In this case, the author of this article is referring to two songs that have already been released in Serbian, 'Ona' and 'Demoni'.

The band now has three songs in Serbian, including 'Šta bih ja'.

[eleonoraalbright]

Do You Want To Know A Secret?

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x fem!reader

Excerpt: You felt a deep sense of sadness settle in the bottom of your stomach, for now you were convinced that he only saw you as a friend. Perhaps if you had the tiniest bit of courage, you could tell Peter about your secret crush on him.

Your window was opened to the warm evening air, and the grounds of Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters was a peaceful sight. Kids and teenagers were scattered on the lawn, either playing frisbee or basketball, some sat in circles laughing at the antics of those around them. All of the students seemed content and happy.

You weren’t. You sat in your bedroom by the window looking out at the scene feeling somewhat alienated from your peers, and jealous. It wasn’t the little kids running or the friends competing among each other you were jealous of; it was the couples. The couples that were blatantly making out, holding hands, or simply cuddled up together.

Scott and Jean were sitting down on the grass chatting. A young boy threw the frisbee in the wrong direction and it came hurtling towards Scott, whose back was turned and didn’t notice. Luckily, Jean did.

With her telekinetic abilities, she stopped the projectile and returned it to the grateful boy. Scott thanked his girlfriend by trailing kisses down her neck, whispering in her ear. Even from a distance, you could see Jean blush under his attention. You wanted that. Not from Scott but from someone else.

Your gaze turned back toward the picture you held in your hands. It was taken almost a year ago when the school had a summer party to celebrate the end of the semester. In the photo, you and Peter Maximoff were sitting down on a bench eating watermelon slices. Peter wore his ridiculous Hawaiian swim trunks decorated with a variety of tropical birds.

The day had been a blast filled with swimming, water balloon fights, tasty food, wonderful company, and your first kiss, sort of. Peter had kissed you on the cheek at the night’s end. When it happened your heart nearly exploded from excitement. For a time, you had hoped it was the beginning of a romance between you and him, but alas it was not. You didn’t see much of him last summer, and neither you nor him had made any steps into a relationship in the past year.

Your fingers brushed the picture of Peter’s face, and you felt a deep sense of sadness settle in the bottom of your stomach, for now you were convinced that he only saw you as a friend. Perhaps if you had the tiniest bit of courage, you could tell him about your secret crush on him but every time an opportunity arose for you to act, you’d get cold feet and leave before he’d suspect anything.

Sighing, you leaned your head against the wall trying to think of something other than Peter. You focused on your record player in front of you. The vinyl spinning around and around was hypnotizing and you relaxed for a moment, listening to John Lennon’s voice sing “Baby It’s You”.

Uh, oh, it doesn't matter what they say I know I'm gonna love you any old way What can I do, and it's true Don't want nobody, nobody

Cause baby, it's you

To help with your melancholy mood, you put on the Beatles’ first album Please Please Me. Now, when paying close attention to the lyrics, your thoughts drifted towards Peter again. You wanted him but he didn’t want you. Briefly, you were glad when the song changed but soured again when the song was “Do You Want To Know A Secret?”

Maybe a collection of love songs wasn’t the best idea to listen to when trying to forget about your crush. In irritation at the band singing about love, you almost threw the disc across your room. However, you calmed yourself, it wouldn't help your situation to destroy it. Besides, your dad bought the record when he was your age and gifted it to you as a present for your last birthday. 

Taking deep breaths in and out, you felt a rush of air beside you. Your stomach dropped when you saw who caused it. Peter, handsome as ever, was standing next to you, wearing his signature silver jacket and goggles. "Hey, whatcha up to?"

You pressed the picture to your front, covering it as much as you could with your hands. You hoped he wouldn't pay attention to the song, see the photo, and connect the dots. "Uh, nothing much. Just listening to some music."

Peter picked up the cover of the album and raised an eyebrow. "The Beatles? Seriously?" He questioned in mock disappointment. 

You shrugged your shoulders. "It's a good band, and I like this song." The record spun faster, and both of you were silent as George Harrison sang out:

Closer, let me whisper in your ear Say the words you long to hear I'm in love with you, ooh

Fidgeting, you glanced between the record player and Peter, feeling nervous. Peter did the same with you, though he seemed unbothered. You tapped your fingers tensely, wondering what possible course of action to take so you could slip away. It wouldn't be too random to jump out the window and army crawl through the bushes to escape, right?

Peter opened his mouth to speak, and fearing what might come out of his mouth, you said, "Yeah my dad bought it when he was younger, and he asked my mom out while they danced to this. She loves telling that story, always saying that without this song I might not have been born. So that's one of the reasons I like it, and it's a good song."

You stopped rambling, and noticed Peter had a curious expression on his face. "Do girls actually like that?"

"Huh?"

"That cheesy romance stuff, like your mom did. Girls like that?"

"Umm..." Your brain seemed to have short circuited at his question. "I mean it depends on the girl. Some girls do and some don't. Also depends on the circumstances, and who's asking is pretty important too." You let out a chuckle at the end, attempting to alleviate a bit of the awkwardness. 

Peter held the album for a few more seconds, digesting the information. He tossed the cover on your bed and asked, "Well, speaking of pleasing me, do you wanna go to 7-Eleven. A little bird told me they got a new shipment of twinkies." He had a lopsided grin on his face. 

You would've said yes, been happy to spend any amount of time with Peter, but now being in his company was unbearable. It was difficult having to joke, laugh, talk, and pretend you were content to be with him but not be with him. You couldn't keep up the façade. Not now. You replied, breaking eye contact, "I'm sorry, Pete. I don't want to right now."

"It'll take less than a minute. We can get some silly string too. Scott's room is lookin' real drab and it needs a bit of color stop to liven it up," he coaxed.

"No, I have a headache. I just want to be alone this evening." You gave him a sad smile, hoping he'd understand.

Peter was unhappy that you wouldn't come with him, but didn't pester any further. He nodded and departed without another word. You returned to gazing at the window, feeling dissatisfied with Peter's friendship and frustrated at your inability to tell him the truth.

"I'm glad I could come, Peter."

"Yeah, it's been a while since we hung out."

It was a hot July day in the suburbs of D.C. where you were staying with the Maximoff's. Over summer break, you had grown bored at home, so you decided to pay your favorite speedster a visit. An ample amount of time had elapsed since that evening in May, that you felt confident enough to be around Peter without becoming a stuttering lovestruck fool.

You had even gone out with a couple of dudes to get your mind off him. But now, with the two of you alone in his basement, your mind wandered over to possible romantic scenarios that could happen. You mentally rebuked yourself for thinking such things about your friend. Maybe there was some cute guy in a movie you could obsess over instead of Peter.

To distract yourself, you started looking through his extensive collection of stolen albums. He had all of Pink Floyd’s, including Atom Mother Heart, Meddle, Obscured by Clouds, and Dark Side of the Moon which was his favorite. 

"So, what do you feel like listening to?" You asked Peter who was playing Ms. Pac-Man on the other side of the room. Just as you were about to suggest Obscured by Clouds, he sped off and appeared again, this time closer to you, holding up a new one. It was Please Please Me.

"I was thinking of this one." He put it on his record player and fast-forward through a few songs until "Do You Want To Know A Secret" started playing. He held out his hand to you. Shocked by his actions, you took his hand hesitantly.

He put his other hand on your waist and began swaying. Peter was dancing with you! You tried to regain your composure and hoped he couldn't hear your heart beating a zillion miles per hour. 

You'll never know How much I really love you You'll never know How much I really care

You tried to begin a conversation to preoccupy yourself from the warm sensation spreading throughout your body but was stopped by Peter whispering in your ear. “Listen, do you want to know a secret? Do you promise not to tell?” You stiffened at his words. "Closer, let me whisper in your ear. Say the words you long to hear."

He murmured the lyrics along with the song as it played. He continued, "I've known a secret for a week or two. Nobody knows, just we two." Peter twirled you around once then brought you closer to him. His lips brushed against your ears once more as he continued his soft singing. "Say the words you long to hear. I'm in love with you."

Tingles traveled up your spine when he said the romantic words. You looked him dead in the eyes, determining if this was all a giant joke, Peter being a jerk and playing with your tangled emotions, or if he was genuine. He returned your gaze and explained, "Technically it's been more than a week but that's what the song says."

You gaped at him. "Peter, are- are you serious? Are you joking?" You swallowed all of your apprehension and hardened your voice. "Cause if you are, I'll knock you into next Tuesday."

He gave a small chuckle at your reaction. "I wouldn't be slow dancing with you in my basement if I didn't like you." He emphasized the slow part to get his point across. However, something was off about Peter, he licked his lips, and looked, dare you say it, scared?

You realized he was waiting for you to say if you liked or didn't like him back. The thought made you smile. The fact that you, of all people, could make Peter nervous. How the tables had turned. You contained the laughter bubbling up inside you and answered, "I like you too, Peter."

His worried expression was quickly replaced with a cocky grin. "Huh, who knew this cheesy romance stuff worked?"

"Like mother, like daughter, I guess."

"Yeah, I should thank your dad next time I see him for the tip."

You let out a breathy laugh at his comment, before gingerly pressing your lips against his. He kissed back. You broke away first and rested your head on his shoulder. Peter hummed in contentment.

He whispered, "You know, I could get used to going this slow with you." In his cluttered basement, you and Peter danced to the Beatles, stopping more often than not to kiss each other. You were glad that his and your affections were no longer secret anymore. 

Listen, do you want to know a secret? Do you promise not to tell, whoa, oh Closer, let me whisper in your ear Say the words you long to hear I'm in love with you

Taglist: @spderm4nnnn

[sequinsmile-x]

Echo

noun /ˈɛkəʊ/

a sound or sounds caused by the reflection of sound waves from a surface back to the listener.

a close parallel to an idea, feeling, or event.

Emily misses her boyfriend, so when an opportunity arises to visit him for the weekend she takes it with both hands, but an unexpected visitor from Aaron's past threatens to derail everything.

A Young Hotchniss oneshot.

-x-

Hi friends,

I posted about this as a vague idea and everyone seemed to love it...so here we are! And as always I got carried away...is anyone surprised at this point?

Special shout out to @eyesontheskyline who helped inspire some of the angstier bits in this haha

As always, please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 5k

Warnings: None

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

It was never meant to last longer than the summer. 

It was an agreement they’d made that first night, his lips hovering over hers as they hid in a side room in her mother’s house during an event he was supposed to be working. His answer to her breathless statement, her quiet whisper that this couldn’t mean anything long-term, was to kiss her. His hands on her cheeks as his tongue swiped through her mouth, his body firm against hers as she was trapped between him and the wall. 

She wanted to do something a little reckless, which sleeping with her mother’s security detail certainly was, and he was relatively fresh out of a long-term relationship, his heart still broken after his high-school sweetheart had ended things with him. 

Emily had meant for it to just be sex. She’d had every intention of leaving her mother’s house after summer was over as free and single as she had been when she arrived, but there was something about him that she couldn’t quit. A pull that she didn’t entirely understand that had her hesitating when it was time to leave, her master’s degree at Yale calling her just like his fancy new job for the FBI was calling him. It shouldn’t have surprised her that he was the one to broach the subject, his smile crooked as he told her he’d looked up the drive between New Haven and DC, his eyes shining with something she refused to name as he said he’d drive it every weekend if it meant he got to see her. 

Being in a long distance relationship was hard, but he made it easy. Aaron was just as kind and sweet as he always was with her. He sent cards and flowers on the weekends he couldn’t visit, making her friends at Yale vibrate with jealousy over how amazing and thoughtful her boyfriend was. She often found herself missing him in a way that made her feel embarrassed, sure that the version of herself who she’d been just a year ago would roll her eyes at her for how she’d smile when he called her, how she’d sit on the couch wearing his sweater, the phone between her ear and shoulder as they both sat alone and watched a TV show together with hundreds of miles between them. 

It felt like life had been kicking her ass lately, relentless classes and papers driving her to the edge, something she was tipped over after a particularly rough conversion with her mother. She was about to call Aaron, sure just talking to him would make him feel better, when she found out all of her Friday classes had been cancelled. She packed a bag and got in her car without thinking about it, the opportunity of a three-day weekend back in DC too good to pass up. It’s only when she’s pulling up outside his apartment building that she wonders if she should have called him first, worried she’d be intruding, the shine of surprising him disappearing in an instant as it’s replaced with a nervousness only he had ever been able to bring out of her. 

Any concern she had disappears the second she sees him. Emily’s breath catches in her chest as he opens his apartment door, looking every bit as gorgeous in his sweats and a Beatles t-shirt as he always did in his clean-cut suits, his hair damp from the shower. 

“Em?” He asks, his smile wide as he looks her up and down, dimples carved deep in his cheeks, “What are you doing here?” 

“My classes tomorrow got cancelled,” she says, her grip on her duffle bag over her shoulder tightening, something she could hold onto until she could hold onto him, “And I missed you, so I thought I’d come to see you,” she explains, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as he continues to stare at her, the silence they fall into forcing the anxiety she’d felt earlier back into her chest, “Should I have called fir-”

He’s kissing her before she can finish the question, his lips fierce against hers and his embrace tight around her back as her bag slips to the floor. She groans into his mouth as she wraps her arms around his neck, smiling into the kiss as he holds her impossibly tighter, the toes of her sneakers skimming the worn hallway carpet. When he pulls back he rests his forehead against hers, his smile wide as he stamps another kiss against her lips.

“I missed you too,” he replies, turning with her still in his arms, only setting her back down on the ground when she’s over the threshold and in his apartment, “I lo…I’m so happy to see you.” 

They hadn’t said it to each other yet, the three words she liked to think she knew they both felt always on the tip of their tongues. They were gun-shy, her because of the fact she knows she hadn’t loved someone like this before, a part of her worried it would give him some kind of power over her that she wasn’t willing to give him, and he because he’d had his heart broken by the person he thought he’d be with forever. It made them cautious, always skirting around the idea that what was supposed to have been just sex had turned into so much more. Sometimes, she wished he’d just say it so she could say it back, self-aware enough that she knew she’d never say it first. 

She presses her lips together to try and contain her smile as she watches him grab her bag from the hallway, her stomach flipping as her gaze drifts to the muscles in his arms, how they shift under his skin as he hooks her bag over his shoulder. He clears his throat and raises his eyebrow at her, letting her know she was caught out, and she narrows her eyes, well aware he’d be a little less smug once he saw some of the underwear she’d had packed for the weekend. 

“I’m happy to see you too,” she says, closing the gap and kissing him, smiling when he gasps as she scratches her nails across his head, “I brought some textbooks so I can study whilst you’re at work tomorrow.” 

He scoffs, hauling her up into his arms, smiling at her squeal as she wraps her legs around his waist, “Oh sweetheart, I am calling in sick tomorrow.” 

She wraps her arms around his neck and raises her eyebrows in disbelief, familiar joy that he had always been able to draw out of her sparking in her chest, “You’re going to call in sick? Mr perfect attendance record?” 

No more than a month after he’d started his new job and she’d gone back to college, he’d come down with the flu - a fact he’d desperately tried to hide from her. When she found out he’d gone to work any way she’d been furious and overnighted him chicken soup, her skin itching at the thought that she couldn’t be there to look after him. It was one of the first moments she realised that she was in love with him, the desire to drop everything and make sure he stayed in bed until he was better so overwhelming it had knocked her off kilter for a few days. 

“What can I say,” he says, his hands on her ass as he starts to walk them towards his bedroom, “You’re clearly a bad influence on me.” 

She scoffs, but it’s swallowed down by him as he leans forward, his lips against hers shutting off her brain to anything except him and his wondering hands. 

___

She chuckles as he kisses her neck, a shiver passing through her body as she turns her head, his lips catching the corner of hers. 

“We need to eat,” she murmurs, smiling as he kisses her again, his hand grasping at her waist as he shifts closer, the span of his hand skimming both her ribs and her hip. 

“I’m planning on it,” he replies, his words muttered against her neck as he moves downwards, his intentions clear as his hand slips down to her thigh, his warm palm drawing a shiver out of her. She laughs and pushes at his shoulder, her smile wide as their eyes meet. 

“I’m serious,” she says, pushing her fingers through his hair, “I’m starving.” 

He can’t help but smile at her, love he still struggled to say outloud caught in his chest, warm and cloying as it makes it hard to breathe. 

When he met her he never could have known how important she’d end up being to him, he never could have guessed that her smile would help pave over the cracks in his heart. Looking back on it, he thinks he should have known better. He’d never been someone to have casual sex, before Emily he’d only ever slept with Haley, but there was something about Emily that had drawn him in from the start. Poorly hidden mischief in her smile and a spark in her eyes that made her stand out in a house full of sharp suits and sensible conversation that he couldn’t resist, his final piece of self-restraint snapping when she’d pulled him into a side room during a party, her smile irresistible as she told him it would just be for the summer. 

It was reassuring that she hadn’t been able to stick to that obvious lie either. That she had missed him enough in the two weeks since they’d last seen each other to drive here on a whim, her smile as shy as he’d ever seen it when he opened his apartment door last night. They’d spent the day in bed together, only getting up for a late breakfast that he’d made for her in the early afternoon. She’d sat on the counter next to him as he cooked, wearing only his t-shirt with one of her legs around his waist, exchanging kisses in between bites of pancakes and bacon that he fed to her. 

He kisses her cheek, his response murmured against her skin, “I ordered pizza when you were in the bathroom. It should be here soon.” 

She beams at him, her hands on his cheeks as she drags him in for a kiss, “You might actually be the perfect man.” She climbs out of bed, stretching as she does so, her muscles aching deliciously before she reaches for his discarded t-shirt, scrunching her nose up as she looks at the Beatles album cover printed on the front of it, “Although, your taste in music leaves a lot to be desired.” 

He shakes his head as he stands up, tugging his sweatpants up over his hips before he pulls her into his arms, his hands framing her waist, “You can make fun of the Beatles as much as you want, Em. I’ve seen the pictures from your punk phase.”

She groans, but her response is cut off by a knock at the door, “I’ll get the pizza.” 

He grumbles as he walks over to the closet, pulling another t-shirt out of it before he follows her out into the living area, “If that pizza delivery guy tries to flirt with you again I’m having him fired.” 

She laughs as she reaches into her purse, pulling out her wallet, purposely leaning over a little more than necessary before she looks over her shoulder at him and winks, “Oh yes, if there’s one thing I love more than hot FBI agents it’s college freshman who deliver pizza to make weed money.” 

She smiles as she opens the apartment door, her hand already held out to take the pizza. Her face drops when she looks up and doesn’t see the pizza guy, her smile melting away when her eyes meet those of a blonde woman she’d only ever seen pictures of, the other woman’s eyes wide as she looks Emily up and down, who was suddenly incredibly aware of the fact she was only wearing a large t-shirt. 

Emily couldn’t pretend that this wasn’t something she’d been worried about, that the reappearance of the woman standing in front of her wasn’t a fear she’d had since she’d fallen for Aaron. She tugs at the hem of the t-shirt she’s wearing, desperately trying to make it cover more of her thighs, and she clears her throat, her mouth opening but no words coming out, feeling oddly at an advantage because she knew who the other woman was, but at a disadvantaged because she was practically naked. Time slows down as Aaron appears behind her, his hand on her hip as he steps in front of her, providing her with some cover,  his eyebrows furrowed as he finally breaks the silence and says something. 

“Haley?” 

Haley nods, her lips pressed together as she looks back and forth between the two of them, her eyebrow raised, “Hi Aaron,” she says, her eyes flicking back to Emily before they land on him, a fake smile he recognised from when they were teenagers and she used to try and act brave in front of her parents, “Are you going to introduce me to your friend?” 

The silence that follows is awkward, and Emily can’t tell if she’s pleased or offended that Aaron can’t seem to bring himself to introduce her to his ex-girlfriend. She clears her throat, her jaw tight as she skims her hand over his back, her smile fleeting as he turns to look at her, “I’m going to go put some pants on,” she says, flicking her eyes between him and Haley, “I’ll leave you two to it.” 

Her attempt to step away pulls him out of the shocked silence he’d fallen into, and he grabs her wrist, his eyes meeting hers as she stops barely a pace away from him, “Emily-”

“It’s okay, Aaron,” she says, even though it felt anything but, her heart sinking into her stomach, “I’ll be in the bedroom.” 

She flashes a tight smile at Haley, who is still standing in the hallway, and walks towards the bedroom, her hands tugging down the hem of the t-shirt she’s wearing to make sure her ass is covered. Aaron sighs when he hears the bedroom door close, the echo of it loud in the otherwise quiet apartment, the slam reverberating back and forth between his past and his present.

“So…” Haley says, drawing his attention back to her, “Emily.”

He steps back to let her into the apartment, not wanting to air his private business to any of his neighbours who may be listening in, his grip tight on the door handle as he clenches his jaw, “Haley.”

“She seems nice,” she says, looking around the apartment they’d once shared, at the spaces where pictures of the two of them used to sit. She turns to look at Aaron, her arms tight over her chest, “I mean she’s young, was she even in middle school when we met?”

“Haley,” he says again, more warning in his voice this time, well aware that Emily would be able to hear everything from the next room, the walls of his apartment as thin as his patience, his every nerve on edge at the sudden reappearance of his ex-girlfriend, “That’s enough.” 

Haley blows out a breath, nodding as she looks down at the ground, giving herself a moment to gather herself as she tightens her grip on her own triceps, “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. I…” she clears her throat as she looks up at him, “I don’t know what I was expecting when I came here tonight but it certainly wasn’t a gorgeous brunette answering the door wearing a t-shirt that I bought you.” 

He places his hands on his hips and nods, accepting her apology wordlessly. Haley had never been cruel or mean, far from it. Her kindness was one of the things that had drawn him to her in the first place. A bright spot in his chaotic life as a teenager, a much needed escape from his turbulent home life, a reminder that he had more waiting for him as soon as he was old enough to escape. He knew that’s why it hurt so much when she broke up with him, tears shining in her eyes as she gave him the ring back, her lower lip trembling as she told him she knew they wanted different things, things that, in the long run, were likely to tear them apart anyway. 

“Why are you here, Haley?” He hates how his voice shakes, how heartbreak he thought he’d fixed is still just beneath the surface, “You moved out. You broke up with me,” he chokes as he shakes his head, “I’ve moved on. I…you can’t just come back here and what, want to go back to where we were?” 

The way she looks away, her eyes fixed on a picture on the wall of him and Emily, one he’d asked a stranger to take of the two of them on his most recent trip to New Haven, lets him know he’s got it in one. Despite the ache in his chest, the space he thought she’d always occupy, he realises that not one part of him wants to take her up on it. 

“I thought…” she shakes her head, “I don’t know what I thought. I missed you, that’s all,” she looks at him, the smile he’d once imagined their children would have flickering across her face, “I guess I thought we’d figure it out.” 

He frowns, his eyebrows furrowing together, “I haven’t heard from you in close to a year.” 

She nods, her lips pressed together as she laughs humourlessly, “And you never came after me,” she says, shrugging her shoulders, “I thought you would.” 

“Oh,” he raises his eyebrows, the tension in his shoulders loosening, a wry laugh breaking free from his chest, shattering any remaining ache her departure from his life had left behind, “I did not get that at all.” 

She laughs too, a sound he never thought he’d hear again and she shakes her head at herself, “I guess I wasn’t the one you were meant to follow,” she steps forward and hugs him. It takes a moment for him to reciprocate, his arms stiff at his side before he wraps them around her. He hates her shampoo smells different, a final reminder that they no longer belonged to each other, and as he pulls back it feels like even more of a goodbye than their break up, a finality to it that he could accept, “Can I give you some advice?” 

He smiles, “Would you stop even if I said no?” 

She rolls her eyes and slaps his shoulder, “Sometimes, you need to chase after what you want, Aaron,” she says, her eyes drifting back towards the bedroom, to the room with the bed she’d helped pick out, “Or who you want.” 

She steps back, putting some space between them, “I should go,” she says, turning her back on him and heading towards the door. She looks at him over her shoulder as she pulls it open, “Goodbye Aaron.”

He’s surprised at how easy it is to watch her leave this time, no words stuck in his chest as there had been almost a year ago, no pieces of his heart to pick up off the floor, something he knows is everything to do with the woman currently hiding in his bedroom. He barely has a moment to think about what’s happened, to get over the strange turn of events that evening, before there’s a knock on the still open door.

“Pizza?”

He sighs and picks up his wallet, pulling the door open entirely to reveal the teenage delivery boy, “How much?” 

He smiles at him, his eyes wide as he looks back and forth between him and the hallway Haley had disappeared down, “Dude, how many girlfriends do you have?” 

He raises his eyebrows and has to suppress a smile when the kid opposite him suddenly looks like he’s going to crap his pants, immediately clearing his throat, “$10, please. Sir.” 

___

She’s never been more grateful that she remembered to pack her Discman. She tucks it under her arm as she hastily packs, her headphones blasting her favourite Siouxsie and the Banshees so loudly the sound is tinny, the music every bit as awful to listen to as her parents had always claimed it was. It’s better than listening to whatever conversation Aaron is having with Haley out in the living room, the only bit she had heard, the fact she’d been wearing a shirt Haley had bought for him, enough to make her stomach turn. 

She’d taken it off, changing into her own clothes before she’d started charging around his room, pulling anything that belonged to her off of the shelves as she listens to Silly Thing on repeat, not wanting to leave a trace of herself behind. 

She jumps when she turns and sees him standing in the doorway, his brows furrowed as she pulls her headphones off her head, the tinny music still blasting from them as they hook around her neck.

“Pizza’s here,” he says, looking at her bag on his bed, “Where are you going?” 

She clears her throat and tears her headphones off entirely, switching off the Discman as she stuffs it into the side pocket of her duffel, “A hotel,” she says, sniffing, forcing back emotions that she doesn’t want to show in front of him, desperate to hold herself together until she’s in her car, “It’s too late to drive home and I don’t want to be in the way.” 

He tries to stop her from getting past him but she’s faster than him, slipping free of his embrace before he can even wrap his hand around her arm, “You don’t want to be in the way of what?” 

“You and Haley,” she replies, slipping her shoes on, ignoring that it’s his socks she’s wearing, so focused on getting out of there, on not letting him see her break, that she doesn’t realise they are alone, “I know this is what you’ve been waiting for and I’m not going to stand in the way.” 

She’d never been enough, not for anyone. Not for her parents, not for the groups of friends she’d never quite fit in with. In the end, she hadn’t even been enough for Matthew, the shared trauma of what she’d gone through in Rome had turned him away from her and to the addiction he was still in the grip of even now. She felt stupid for letting herself believe that this time she was enough, that the way he looked at her was something close to the love she was now grateful she hadn’t admitted to. 

She’d get over it, she always did. She’d move on, her armour even stronger than before, reforged over the chink he’d left in it. She sighs when he gets in between her and the door, her fingers pushing through her hair as she feels her breath catch in her chest, her heart cracking in two as she curses herself for ever letting his get so far, for breaking the promise she’d made herself that first night. 

“Please let me go,” she says, her voice shaking in a way he’d never heard before, and the pieces fall into place. Her hurried packing, the headphones she’d had on when he walked into his bedroom, the loud noise she called music audible even across the room. 

It’s a reflection of when Haley left him, confusion and pre-emptive heartbreak mixing in his gut until he feels nauseous. It renders him speechless for a moment until he remembers Haley’s parting words.

“Sometimes, you need to chase after what you want, Aaron.”

He can’t watch Emily leave, doesn’t even want to give her the chance to be chased, and he reaches forward, his hand finally wrapping around her arm, tugging her closer so she can’t leave, her hand slipping from the door handle. 

“Aaron, please-”

“Haley left,” he says, watching as her eyes go wide as she looks around the apartment, “She’s gone.” 

“Wh..what?” She chokes out, her bravado fading by the second as she tries to see if he was lying, “She’s gone?” 

He nods, happy when she lets him take her bag from her shoulder, lowering it to the ground between them, “She’s gone. Did you…did you think I’d break up with you? Just like that?” 

She closes her eyes, embarrassment flooding through her, her cheeks burning with it as she looks down at the ground, “How often does the woman you love just reappear in your life?” 

He feels a flash of anger aimed at himself, and anyone who came before him who ever made her feel like she was nothing short of extraordinary. He promises himself there and then that he’ll make sure she knows just how amazing she is, how much she’s worth for the rest of his life if she’ll let him. 

“Emily,” he breathes out her name like a prayer as he cups her chin, his finger hooked under it as he encourages her to look at him, the words he’d been holding for weeks, any reason he had for doing so seeing silly now, finally escaping, “I love you.” 

She stares at him for a moment, at a loss for words as she licks her lower lip, her mouth opening and closing as she tries to think of something to say, “What?” 

He smiles, leaning forward to press his forehead against hers, his hand hooking around the back of her neck to hold her in place, “I love you, Emily Prentiss,” he says, his smile getting wider when she chokes on a breath, her hands finally moving from her sides and grasping his t-shirt, “I loved Haley, but that was in my past. You’re my present,” he pulls back to look at her properly, “And, if you want to be, my future.” 

She shakes her head at him before she leans in to kiss him, her hands buried in his hair as she puts everything into it, everything she’d convinced herself she’d never get to have in the few minutes he’d spoken to his ex. 

“I love you too,” she replies as she pulls back just enough to speak, stamping her lips against his again, “I love you,” she kisses him once more, “I’m sorry I’m an idiot.” 

He frowns and pulls back, tucking some of her hair behind her ear, “Hey, don’t speak about the woman I love like that.” 

She presses her lips together and nods, her forehead against his for a moment before she pulls back, “I think the pizza will have gone cold.” 

“I don’t care,” he replies, stamping a kiss against her lips before he encourages her towards the couch, grabbing the pizza box from the counter before they sit down. She curls against his side and he places the pizza in his lap, opening the box before he takes a slice, grimacing as he has a bite, “Oh yeah, it is cold.” 

She hums as she reaches for a slice, her head against his shoulder as she starts to eat, “I think you’d be horrified at how big a part of my diet cold pizza is.” 

He shakes his head and turns it to kiss her temple, “When you’re done with college I’ll make sure you eat actual meals.” 

She smiles, the implication that it meant they’d be living together not lost on her. She doesn’t broach the subject, the unexpecting love confession after the reappearance of the woman he was once engaged to enough of a shift in their relationship for one night. But she knows the idea of taking that step with him doesn’t scare her, that she sees a future with him just as much as he apparently sees one with her. 

“I am sorry,” she says, smiling shyly when their eyes meet, “For making an assumption. I should have spoken to you about it instead of trying to leave.” 

He shakes his head, his spare hand on her knee, squeezing the joint through her leggings, “You have nothing to apologise for, sweetheart,” he says, “I’m sure I would have thought the same thing if our roles were reversed.” 

She hums, not sure that the examples were truly comparable. Her only other ex that had been semi-serious was a professor she’d dated during her undergrad, a man old enough that it scandalised her parents. They’d never been serious, and certainly nothing close to Aaron’s relationship with Haley, but she’d still been sad when he’d called things off, replacing her with a freshman as she started her senior year. 

“I didn’t even ask how you felt seeing her,” she says, picking up another slice of pizza, “It can’t have been easy.” 

He thinks about it, not sure he’d really had the chance to process it beyond the fact it had happened, “It wasn’t,” he admits, “But I think it was necessary,” he says, his smile genuine, “It was the closure I needed.” 

She runs her fingers through his hair when he stops there, everything else he still can’t put into words stuck in his throat. 

“I’m glad,” she replies, “If you want to talk about it, I hope you know you can talk about it to me,” she says, a teasing edge to her smile, “Since we’re in love with each other and all.” 

He laughs and kisses her, “I know.” 

They lapse into an easy silence, pressed up against each other as they continue to eat their cold pizza. She eventually breaks it, “Baby?” 

He hums, the nickname she rarely used warming him from the inside out, “Yes, sweetheart?” 

“I’m buying you a bunch of t-shirts, you’re wearing them once and then I’m stealing them back,” she says, her expression letting him know just how much of his conversation with Haley she had heard, “Okay?” 

He clears his throat to suppress a laugh, but he’s unable to stop his smile, and he nods, stamping his lips against hers, 

“Okay.” 

-x-

Tag List:

@ssa-sparks , @ptrckjcne , @lyds102 , @glockleveledatyourcrotch , @hotchnissenthusiast , @danadeservesadrink , @ssamorganhotchner , @emilyprentissisgod , @notagentprentiss , @freesiasandfics , @emilyshotchniss , @thecharmingart , @paulitalblond , @hancydrewfan , @camille093 , @whitecrossgirl , @moonlight-2-6, @rawr-jess , @florenceremingtonthethird, @jareauswife , @ms-black-a , @beebeelank , @aubreyprc , @zipzapboingg, @psychopath-at-heart , @criminalmindsgonewrong , @fionaloover , @kinqslcys , @prentissinred , @ccmattis-22 , @denvivale317 , @thrindis , @hotchsguccitie , @cmfouatslota77 , @alexblakegf , @aliensaurusrex, @prentissxhotch , @emobabeyy , @victoiregranger , @stormyweatherth , @wanderingdreamer009 , @ssablackbird , @luhwithah , @lex13cm , @prentiss-theorem, @dont-emily-me , @mrs-ssa-hotch , @jocyycreation, @itsmytimetoodream , @hotchnissgroupie, @controversialpooh, @capsshinyshield , @canuck-eh

Join my tag list here!

[julialestrade]

60s!Paul McCartney x reader

Tunes and Timeless Moments

Authors note : this is a SMUT FREE 60s high school au where the band will exist but it plays before " The Beatles " fanfic

Slow burn and fluff

Warnings : tooth rotting fluff , romance , teen romance , and some use of Y/N

——————————————————————

It was a nice summer day in Liverpool and your class and other people from your grade were getting settled in a school bus as you were about to go on a 4 week field trip , because of a shortage of teachers , so your school has to make time to find new ones . And even though it was a bit full when you and your friends were boarding the coach you still found three free rows and you got one to yourself right next to a window without any things to block it . Now you were chatting with your friend a row ahead when a boy from your class slid into the last empty seat next to you. He flashed a casual grin and said, “Seems like I’ve nabbed the final seat. Hope you don’t mind the company—uhm what is your name again ? “ you look at the boy a bit weirded out , because who Tf speaks to someone they don’t really know , right ? But to be polite you have him a light smile and stretched out your hand to and introduced yourself to him . " y/n – l/n y/n pleasure to meet you ! " the boy just smiles at you and shakes your hand and after a while you start to pull away and ask him for his name wich he finally shares with you … he was called Paul McCartney and then it clicked , he was the music obsessed boy you sat behind of in math class .

(Ugh you know what imma switch to first person perspective)

We both had made small talk from time to time in between school hours or had greeted each other in the school hallway but there was nothing more of any interaction than those . So as one figured after a bit of small talk, the conversation naturally fizzled out. You exchanged names and brief introductions, but now there was an awkward silence. You glanced out the window, watching the few teachers coming with you loading the bus with the bus driver , while he fiddled with his bags straps .

After some time the silence became insufferable and you had to start talking again .

“So, are you excited about the trip ? “ Paul looks up at you and replies with a relieved sigh

“Yeah, sounds interesting enough. I’m just hoping it’s not another one of those places where you’re not allowed to do anything but for things that have educational purposes .”

With slight intrigues I reply to him “Oh, I know what you mean. I find it super annoying . What’s the most trouble you’ve ever gotten into on a trip?”

Paul thinks for a Minute and then replies a few seconds later with a smile playing on his lips “Well, there was that time I tried to ‘borrow’ a statue’s hat at the last museum visit. Turns out, it wasn’t a prop. How about you?”

“I once got stuck in a gift shop because I was trying to sneak a peek at the secret stockroom. Got caught by the shopkeeper. Classic.”

“Sounds like we’re both experts in getting into mischief. Maybe we should stick together today. We could be a team of troublemakers.”

“Deal. Just promise you won’t get us thrown out.”

“No promises. But I’ll try my best. So, what’s your favorite part of these trips?”

“Probably the bus rides. It’s the only time we get to just talk and hang out without worrying about homework.”

“I’m with you there. The bus ride’s the best part. And who knows, maybe we’ll come up with a new adventure story by the end of the day.”

I nodded, trying to ignore the butterflies that were suddenly making themselves at home in my stomach. There was something about the way Paul spoke, so effortlessly casual yet with a glint of mischief behind every word. I hadn’t thought much about him before, but sitting next to him now, I couldn’t help but be intrigued.

“So, do you play any instruments?” I asked, half expecting a standard reply. It was a question that usually led to a predictable conversation, which, given the awkwardness earlier, felt like a safe bet.

He raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Funny you ask. I’ve been known to mess around with a bass now and then. You?”

“Mess around?” I echoed, laughing lightly. “That’s not very convincing. And no, I’m more of a listener, to be honest. Though I do own a dusty piano .”

“Ah, a listener. Even better. Musicians need an audience, after all,” he teased, tapping his fingers on the armrest as if playing an invisible rhythm.

I rolled my eyes playfully. “Are you trying to recruit me as your personal fan?”

“Well, it wouldn’t hurt to have someone in the crowd rooting for me,” he joked, but there was a flicker of something sincere in his eyes.

“Are you any good?” I asked, feeling the conversation loosening up as we both settled into the bus seats. The awkwardness from before had faded, replaced by a lightness that I hadn’t expected.

Paul shrugged modestly. “I suppose you’ll have to find out one day, won’t you?”

“Maybe I will,” I replied, half-smiling. There was a pause as I glanced out the window again. The teachers had finished loading the bags, and the bus was finally starting to pull away from the school. The familiar streets of Liverpool blurred past, but I could already feel the sense of freedom that came with leaving it all behind for a while.

Paul leaned back in his seat, stretching his legs out in front of him as much as the cramped bus would allow. “Four weeks, huh? Hard to believe we’re getting out of school for that long.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “It’s weird, but kind of exciting. No classes, no homework... just us and a bunch of museums and... whatever else they’ve got planned.”

“Sounds like trouble waiting to happen,” he mused with a grin, then turned to me with a curious look. “So, what do you reckon we’ll do with all that free time?”

I shrugged, thinking it over. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to see where the trip takes us. Maybe we’ll be well-behaved and stick to the itinerary, or maybe we’ll end up sneaking off and finding our own adventures.”

“Now you’re talking,” he said, his grin widening. “I like the sound of that. Let’s make a pact, yeah? No matter what, we find a way to have some fun on this trip. Deal?”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Deal.”

We shook on it, and for the first time since he sat down next to me, the silence that followed felt comfortable. The kind of silence that didn’t need to be filled with words. I leaned back in my seat, feeling a little more at ease, and glanced over at him. He was staring out the window now, lost in thought, his fingers

The hours passed as the bus hummed along the winding roads out of Liverpool, and the initial excitement of the trip settled into a comfortable lull. Most of our classmates were either dozing off, flipping through magazines, or talking quietly among themselves. Paul had gone quiet beside me, staring out the window again with that distant look on his face. I wondered if he was thinking about his band or maybe even some new lyrics.

Eventually, he broke the silence. “You ever been away from home this long?”

I shook my head. “Not really. I mean, I’ve gone on a few trips with my family, but never for four weeks. Feels a bit strange, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, stretching his legs out as far as they could go in the cramped space. “Not that I’m complaining, though. Gets me out of school for a bit. Gives me time to work on some songs without all the usual distractions.”

I turned toward him, curious. “What kind of songs are you working on?”

He smiled, but there was something almost shy about it this time. “Just, you know, stuff about life, love, that sort of thing. Trying to find a sound that feels right.”

“Sounds deep,” I teased lightly, though I was genuinely interested. “Think you’ll play any of them on this trip?”

Paul chuckled. “Not sure how well that’d go over with the teachers. But maybe if I can sneak my guitar along, we’ll see.”

“Hey, you’ve got four weeks to work your magic. You could start a bus sing-along or something,” I joked, imagining how chaotic that would get.

“Now that would be a sight,” he laughed. “Though I’m not sure everyone here’s ready for that. You might be the only one who appreciates my questionable taste in music.”

I smirked. “Questionable, huh? Now I’m curious what kind of tunes you’re into.”

He thought for a moment, tapping his fingers on the seat again, before grinning. “Tell you what, I’ll give you a taste later. But you’ve got to promise to be brutally honest—none of that polite nodding if you think it’s rubbish.”

“Deal,” I said, feeling a bit of excitement bubbling up. It wasn’t every day you got the chance to hear original music from a classmate who just might be the next big thing.

The bus hit another bump, jolting us both slightly, and Paul shifted in his seat, his expression turning a bit more mischievous . “You know, this trip could be a real chance to get away from all that usual school stuff—figure out what we’re actually good at, you know?”

I nodded, understanding what he meant. “Yeah, it’s nice to get a break from the usual routine. It feels like everything’s always about exams and homework, and you never really get time to think about what you actually want to do.”

He looked at me, his gaze steady. “Exactly. Feels like we’re just going through the motions most of the time. Maybe this trip’s the chance to shake things up a bit.”

We shared a moment of quiet understanding. It was strange to think that this boy I’d barely talked to before today was someone who seemed to get it—the feeling of wanting more than just the typical school routine, of wanting to do something that mattered.

After a moment, Paul’s easy grin returned, and he tilted his head toward the front of the bus. “Think we’ll make it through this trip without any major disasters?”

I laughed. “Not a chance. But hey, at least we’ll have some good stories to tell when we get back.”

He chuckled, leaning back in his seat again. “That’s the spirit. Let’s make sure they’re worth telling.”

With that, the conversation fell into a more comfortable silence. The miles stretched out ahead of us, and I found myself looking forward to whatever came next. Maybe this trip would be more than just a break from school. Maybe it would be the start of something… interesting.

As I glanced over at Paul, who was now lost in his thoughts again, I couldn’t help but feel that this was just the beginning of whatever adventure we were about to stumble into.

The bus continued to hum along the road, and after what felt like an eternity of winding through the countryside, I noticed Paul had gone quiet again. He was still beside me, lost in thought, staring out the window at the rolling hills. The earlier ease between us had settled into something quieter, something a little more comfortable but still new.

I shifted in my seat, feeling the stiffness in my legs from sitting for so long. Paul must have noticed because he turned to me with a small smile. “Long ride, huh?”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “My legs are starting to feel like they’re turning into jelly.”

He chuckled softly. “Maybe we should’ve brought a guitar or something. Could’ve passed the time with a sing-along.”

I smiled at that. “And what would you have played? Something we all know, or one of your originals?”

Paul shrugged, that same casual smirk playing on his lips. “Depends. I might’ve tested out a new tune if I felt like the crowd was up for it.”

I raised an eyebrow. “New tune? So, you’ve got some secret songs you’re hiding from us?”

“Not exactly,” he said, leaning back in his seat. “Just a few ideas, you know? Scribbles in a notebook, half-finished lyrics… nothing special.”

I laughed softly. “I doubt that. You seem like the kind of person who’s always working on something creative.”

Paul looked at me, a little surprised by the compliment. “Maybe. It’s just… you never know when something’s going to stick. Sometimes, you’re just playing around, and then all of a sudden, it turns into something real.”

I nodded, feeling a bit of admiration for him that I hadn’t expected. “I guess that’s the exciting part, right? Not knowing what’s going to come out of it?”

“Exactly,” he said, his eyes lighting up a bit. “That’s what keeps it interesting.”

We fell into another comfortable silence, and this time it didn’t feel awkward at all. Instead, it felt like we were both content to let the conversation come and go as it pleased. Maybe this trip wouldn’t be so bad after all.

I glanced over at Paul, feeling the conversation drifting into silence again, and decided to ask something that had been on my mind. “So… do you play in a band or anything? You mentioned the bass earlier.”

He looked a little surprised at the question, then smiled, a hint of something more serious in his expression. “Yeah, actually. A few of us have been messing around with the idea. It’s nothing big yet, just playing a few tunes in garages or wherever we can.”

I tilted my head, intrigued. “That sounds pretty cool. How’d you get into it?”

Paul shrugged, a bit more relaxed now. “I’ve always loved music, ever since I was a kid. My dad plays piano, and I just sort of… picked things up. Then, once I got my hands on a guitar, there was no going back.”

“That’s impressive,” I said, genuinely meaning it. “I always thought about learning an instrument, but I never really got past a few half-hearted piano lessons.”

He chuckled. “Piano’s not a bad place to start. But you know, it’s never too late to try something new. Could always join us for a jam session.”

“Me?” I laughed, shaking my head. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

“Hey, everyone’s got to start somewhere,” Paul said with a grin. “Besides, it’s more about having fun than being perfect.”

I smiled at that, appreciating his easygoing attitude. “I’ll keep that in mind. Maybe I’ll surprise you one day and show up with a tambourine or something.”

He laughed, the sound light and easy. “Now that would be something. We could always use more percussion.”

Paul’s laughter lingered for a moment, and I couldn’t help but smile, feeling a bit more comfortable now. The awkwardness had melted away, replaced by a casual warmth between us.

“So,” I said, glancing out the window at the countryside rolling by, “what kind of music do you guys play? Is it, like, rock and roll?”

He nodded, his eyes lighting up with excitement. “Yeah, that’s the idea. Rock and roll, a bit of skiffle—stuff that makes you want to move, you know? We’re still figuring it out, but we’ve been covering a lot of Chuck Berry, Little Richard… those kinds of tunes.”

“Chuck Berry, huh?” I raised an eyebrow. “That’s some serious stuff. You must be pretty good.”

Paul shrugged modestly, though there was a hint of pride in his voice. “We’re getting there. It’s all about practice. But it’s not just about being good—it’s about having fun with it, and seeing where it takes us.”

I nodded, impressed. “That sounds amazing. I don’t know many people who actually follow through on something like that.”

“Well,” he said with a grin, “we’ll see if we can make something of it. For now, it’s just nice to have an excuse to hang out with the lads and make some noise.”

“Do you have a name for the band yet?” I asked, leaning into the conversation now, genuinely curious.

Paul laughed, shaking his head. “Not yet. We’ve been throwing around ideas, but nothing’s stuck so far. Naming a band’s harder than you’d think. It’s got to feel right, you know?”

I smiled at that. “Yeah, I can imagine. It’s like naming a baby or something—it’s got to fit.”

“Exactly!” He pointed at me, nodding. “We don’t want to pick something we’ll regret later on.”

“Well, if you need any suggestions, I’m here to help,” I said playfully.

Paul chuckled. “I might just take you up on that.”

We fell into a more comfortable silence after that, but this time it didn’t feel awkward. Instead, it felt like the start of something new, like this conversation was the first step toward an unexpected friendship. The bus continued to rumble along the road, and I leaned back in my seat, feeling lighter than I had at the beginning of the trip.

As the scenery blurred by outside, Paul tapped his fingers on his knee, lost in thought. “You know,” he said after a moment, “I think this trip could be a good time to work on some new songs. Get some fresh ideas.”

“Yeah?” I asked, intrigued. “What inspires you when you write?”

He tilted his head, considering. “Anything, really. A bit of life, love, people I meet… sometimes it’s just a feeling that comes out of nowhere. You never know when inspiration will hit, so you’ve got to be ready.”

“That’s pretty deep,” I said, half-teasing but also impressed. “I guess I never really thought about songwriting like that.”

Paul smiled at me, his eyes softening. “It’s not as complicated as it sounds. You just… write what you feel, you know? Maybe one day you’ll give it a try.”

“Maybe,” I said, though I wasn’t sure if I had that kind of talent. Still, the idea of trying something new, of exploring creativity, sounded appealing.

The bus hit a small bump, jostling us both in our seats, and we shared a brief laugh at the unexpected jolt. The conversation started to drift again, but this time, it felt natural. We didn’t need to fill the silence with forced words. The bus continued on, carrying us toward whatever adventures lay ahead.

I couldn’t help but wonder what the next few weeks would bring, and whether this unexpected connection with Paul would turn into something more than just a fleeting conversation on a school bus.

After we all gathered our bags, the teachers started dividing us into our assigned rooms. The sun was nearly set by now, casting a soft orange glow through the windows of the old estate. The long day of travel had caught up with everyone, and the buzz of excitement had faded into tired chatter.

"Y/N, Room 12," one of the teachers called, ticking off names on a clipboard. I nodded, tightening my grip on my bag and heading inside the building. Paul was still beside me, waiting to hear his own room assignment.

"McCartney, Room 9," another teacher announced, and Paul raised his hand with a small grin.

“Looks like we’re not too far from each other,” he said, adjusting his bag over his shoulder. “Not bad.”

I smiled back. “Yeah, close enough to find each other if we need to plot any late-night escapes.”

Paul laughed lightly. “You never know. But for tonight, I think I’m just going to crash. Too knackered for any adventures.”

"Same here," I agreed, stifling a yawn. The thought of a bed sounded incredibly appealing after a long day cooped up on the bus.

We both followed the hallway until it split off into different sections. My room was down one corridor, and his was down another. Paul turned to face me as we reached the split, flashing a tired but sincere smile.

“Well, goodnight then,” he said softly. “See you tomorrow?”

“Definitely,” I replied. “Goodnight, Paul. Sleep well.”

“You too,” he said with a small wave before turning and walking off toward his room.

I headed to my own room, pushing open the door to find it was already half-occupied by another girl from my grade. She looked just as exhausted as I felt, already halfway through unpacking her things onto her bed. We exchanged tired smiles and quick introductions before both agreeing to call it a night and save any further conversation for tomorrow.

After a quick change into my pajamas, I climbed into bed, the weight of the day finally settling over me. I could hear faint murmurs of conversation through the thin walls, including what might have been Paul's voice from down the hall. But soon, even that faded as the building grew quiet, and sleep started to pull me under. The last thought I had before drifting off was that this trip was just beginning, and I had a feeling there was much more to come—especially when it came to Paul.

-Paul’s POV -

Paul flopped onto his bed with a contented sigh, letting his tired limbs sink into the surprisingly soft mattress. The room was modest but comfortable, with a pair of neatly made beds, a small dresser, and a window that let in a sliver of the moonlight.

George, who was sprawled on his own bed across the room, looked up from fiddling with his guitar case. “So, how’s your day been, mate?” he asked, his voice carrying a mix of curiosity and exhaustion.

Paul grinned, propping himself up on one elbow. “Not too bad. Got to know someone from our class a bit better. You know, Y/N? They ended up sitting next to me on the bus.”

George raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. “Oh, really? And how’d that go?”

“Pretty well, actually,” Paul said, shrugging. “We talked about the trip, a bit about music. Seems like a decent sort. We’re both in for some fun, I reckon.”

George smirked. “And here I thought you’d be too busy plotting your next great escape to talk to anyone.”

Paul chuckled. “Hey, a little adventure is always better with company, right? Besides, I didn’t exactly get any time to plot today. The bus ride was more about trying not to fall asleep and making sure I didn’t annoy everyone around me.”

George laughed, the sound echoing slightly in the small room. “Fair enough. And what did you think of the place so far? Not too shabby, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s got its charm,” Paul said, glancing around the room. “Bit different from the usual. Feels like we’re really on a proper adventure now. I mean, four weeks in this old place? It’s bound to be interesting.”

George nodded, strumming a few chords on his guitar absentmindedly. “Sounds like it’ll be a good time. And you know what they say—new experiences are always worth a shot.”

“Exactly,” Paul agreed, sitting up and stretching. “It’ll be nice to get away from the usual grind. Plus, we’ll have plenty of time to mess about, come up with new tunes, and maybe even make some new friends.”

George glanced over, his expression thoughtful. “You’ve got that right. And with this lot, who knows what kind of trouble we’ll get up to.”

Paul grinned, feeling a surge of excitement. “Trouble, new friends, and maybe even some inspiration for new songs. Sounds like a good plan to me.”

As the conversation continued, the two friends talked about their plans for the upcoming weeks, sharing their hopes and expectations. The room was filled with a relaxed, easy camaraderie that only grew stronger with the passing minutes. It was a quiet, comfortable end to a long day, and as Paul finally settled into his bed, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this trip might just be the beginning of something extraordinary.

“Well, time for some shut-eye,” Paul said, stifling a yawn. “Big day ahead tomorrow.”

George nodded in agreement, his guitar case now closed and resting by his bed. “Goodnight, Paul. See you in the morning.”

“Goodnight, George,” Paul replied, turning off the bedside lamp and letting the darkness envelop the room. As he drifted off to sleep, his thoughts wandered back to Y/N and the promise of the adventures that lay ahead.

As George’s breathing settled into a rhythmic, steady pattern, Paul lay awake in the darkness, staring up at the ceiling. His mind was a whirl of thoughts and images from the day.

He couldn’t help but replay the moments he’d shared with Y/N. Her easy smile and quick wit had made a strong impression on him. He found himself wondering what it would be like to spend more time with her, to see where their conversations could lead. There was something undeniably engaging about her—a spark of curiosity and a willingness to engage in lighthearted banter that had struck a chord with him.

Paul thought about the little details of their interaction: how she had seemed genuinely interested when he mentioned his band and how she had laughed at his jokes. The thought of her intrigued him more than he expected. He recalled the way she looked when she mentioned her dusty piano, her eyes lighting up just a bit. He wondered if she might be someone who could appreciate the kind of music he was passionate about, someone who might even share some of his own interests.

He shifted slightly in his bed, trying to get comfortable as he continued to muse over the potential for new friendships and adventures. The trip was supposed to be a break from the usual grind, but Paul was beginning to see it as a chance to explore not just new places, but new relationships and possibilities.

As the minutes ticked by, Paul’s thoughts wandered to what the next few weeks might hold. Would he and Y/N find themselves paired up for group activities, or would they stumble upon shared interests that brought them closer? He imagined showing her his guitar, maybe even playing a few of his songs, and wondered if she would be interested in hearing them.

There was a small thrill in the uncertainty of it all—the sense of adventure that came with not knowing exactly what was around the corner. Paul felt a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation. The future was full of potential, and he was eager to see where it would lead.

-Time skip to the next morning -

(Still Paul’s pov)

Eventually, the gentle hum of the night and the comfortable rhythm of his own thoughts began to lull him into sleep. Paul’s mind settled on the possibilities that lay ahead, the idea of new friendships, and the hope that this trip would bring some unexpected but welcome surprises.

Paul settled at the breakfast table with his friends and bandmates, John, George, and Ringo. The morning sun filtered through the dining room windows, casting a warm glow on the old wooden tables. The room buzzed with the chatter of students excitedly discussing the day’s activities. Paul, however, found himself somewhat distracted.

As his friends debated over the itinerary for the day, Paul’s gaze kept drifting toward Y/N’s table. She was laughing at something her friends had said, her laughter a pleasant melody that seemed to stand out against the background noise. Paul tried to focus on the conversation at his table, but he couldn’t help but glance over every so often.

John, ever perceptive, noticed Paul’s wandering attention. With a smirk playing on his lips, he leaned closer to Paul and nudged him with an elbow. “Oi, Paul, what’s caught your eye?”

Paul snapped out of his daydream, his face warming as he realized he had been caught. He looked at John with a sheepish grin. “Oh, nothing much. Just... taking in the morning.”

John raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “Right. It seems like you’ve got a special interest in Y/N this morning. Didn’t know you were so keen on the company.”

Paul tried to brush it off, though he could feel himself blushing. “I was just thinking about how the trip might turn out. It’s nice to have some company, that’s all.”

John’s grin widened, clearly enjoying the teasing. “Well, if you’re thinking of making a move, you might want to be subtle about it. Can’t have you making a fool of yourself right out of the gate.”

Ringo, who had been listening with amusement, chimed in. “Looks like Paul’s got himself a bit of a crush. We’ll have to keep an eye on him.”

Paul chuckled nervously, trying to regain his composure. “It’s not like that. Just trying to figure out how we might end up interacting more. Could be interesting, you know?”

George, sensing Paul’s discomfort, gave him a supportive nudge. “Don’t worry about it too much. We’re all here to have a good time. If you end up talking to Y/N more, that’s just part of the adventure.”

As breakfast wound down, the group’s attention shifted to the plans for the day. Paul couldn’t shake the feeling of excitement mingled with nerves. He stole one last glance at Y/N, who was now chatting animatedly with her friends. Despite the teasing from his bandmates, Paul felt a genuine eagerness to get to know her better.

The transition from breakfast to the first activity of the day was quick. The group gathered their things and made their way to the bus, ready for the day’s adventures. Paul joined his friends, the teasing continuing in good spirits, but his mind kept drifting back to the promise of new experiences and the possibility of spending more time with Y/N.

As the bus pulled away from the accommodation, the landscape of the small town began to unfold before them. The anticipation of the day ahead mingled with Paul’s curiosity about Y/N, making the journey feel both exciting and full of potential.

The bus pulled up to the Natural History Museum, and the students began to disembark with excited chatter. The grand facade of the museum loomed ahead, its imposing columns and intricate stonework hinting at the treasures inside. As the group gathered in front of the entrance, the teachers began organizing everyone into pairs for the day’s exploration.

Paul and Y/N had been mingling with their friends, chatting about the exhibits they hoped to see, when one of the teachers called out. “Alright, everyone, we’re going to pair up for the museum tour. Make sure you’re with someone you can work well with!”

Paul glanced over at Y/N, who was also scanning the crowd, likely looking for a familiar face. Just as he was about to suggest they stick together, the teacher’s voice rang out again. “Paul McCartney and Y/N L/N, you’re a pair for the day. Find a partner and get started on the tour!”

Paul’s heart skipped a beat as he turned to Y/N, who looked pleasantly surprised. “Looks like we’re teamed up,” he said with a grin.

Y/N returned the smile. “Guess we’re spending the day together. Ready for some museum exploration?”

Paul nodded enthusiastically. “Definitely. Let’s make the most of it.”

As they entered the museum, the grandeur of the exhibits immediately captured their attention. Fossils, minerals, and ancient artifacts filled the expansive halls, each display more intriguing than the last. The museum guide provided a brief overview of the day’s activities and handed out maps, urging everyone to start exploring.

Paul and Y/N made their way through the exhibits, their conversation flowing easily as they navigated the museum’s vast interior. The initial awkwardness from the bus seemed to have dissipated, replaced by a shared curiosity and enthusiasm for the exhibits. They wandered through the dinosaur gallery, marveled at the minerals on display, and even took turns trying to identify the various fossils.

At one point, they found themselves in front of a particularly impressive diorama featuring prehistoric mammals. Paul leaned closer, examining the display. “These creatures are incredible. Imagine what it must have been like when they roamed the Earth.”

Y/N nodded, her eyes wide with fascination. “It’s amazing to think about how different the world was back then. I’ve always found stuff like this so fascinating.”

Paul glanced at her, noting the genuine excitement in her expression. “You know, I’ve got a bit of a fascination with history myself. Not just the music stuff. There’s something about learning how the world used to be that’s really intriguing.”

Y/N smiled, clearly enjoying the conversation. “I can relate. It’s like stepping back in time and seeing things from a different perspective. Makes you appreciate how much things have changed.”

As they continued their tour, Paul found himself more and more comfortable around Y/N. Their conversation flowed effortlessly, punctuated by shared discoveries and laughter. It was clear that their time together was turning into something enjoyable and meaningful.

With each exhibit they explored, the day seemed to get better. The initial excitement of the field trip had settled into a genuine connection between the two of them. By the time they took a break in the museum’s café, Paul and Y/N were laughing and chatting like old friends.

“So,” Paul said, taking a sip of his drink, “how are you finding the museum so far?”

“It’s been fantastic,” Y/N replied, her eyes sparkling. “I didn’t expect to enjoy it this much, but having a good tour guide and a great partner definitely makes a difference.”

Paul grinned. “I’d say we make a pretty good team. Here’s to more adventures.”

Y/N raised her cup in a mock toast. “Cheers to that.”

As they finished their break and headed back to explore the remaining exhibits, Paul couldn’t help but feel that the day was turning out better than he’d imagined. Spending time with Y/N had been unexpectedly enjoyable, and he was looking forward to what the rest of the field trip would bring.

-Y/Ns POV -

As Paul and I finished our break in the café, we headed toward the museum’s next big attraction: the Butterfly House. The sun streamed through the glass ceiling, creating a warm, almost magical atmosphere. The Butterfly House was a lush, green paradise filled with colorful flowers and fluttering butterflies of every shade imaginable.

“Wow, this place is incredible,” I said, looking around at the vibrant display of nature.

Paul grinned, clearly just as taken with the exhibit. “It’s like stepping into a different world, isn’t it? All these butterflies—such a riot of colors.”

We walked along the winding path through the Butterfly House, surrounded by the gentle hum of butterflies flitting about. The air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers, and the soft rustle of the leaves added to the serene ambiance.

I watched as a particularly large butterfly landed on a nearby flower. “Look at that one—it’s huge! I’ve never seen one like it before.”

Paul leaned closer, squinting at the butterfly. “That’s a Swallowtail, I think. They’re pretty common, but they’re always impressive to see up close.”

We continued down the path, pausing occasionally to admire the butterflies landing on the flowers and even a few that landed on our shoulders or arms. It felt like a gentle, almost playful interaction with nature.

“So,” Paul said, breaking the pleasant silence, “what do you think of all this? It’s pretty amazing, right?”

“I love it,” I replied, smiling at the sight of a butterfly landing gently on my hand. “It’s so peaceful and beautiful. I never expected to enjoy it this much.”

Paul chuckled, clearly enjoying the moment. “I’m glad we’re having a good time. It’s nice to just take a break from the usual routine and soak in something like this.”

We continued walking, enjoying the beauty around us. Paul’s easy demeanor and the relaxed environment made for a perfect combination, and I found myself feeling more at ease with each passing moment.

After spending some time in the Butterfly House, we decided to explore the museum’s main exhibition hall. The hall was grand and filled with a diverse range of exhibits, from ancient artifacts to natural history displays.

As we moved through the various exhibits, Paul pointed out interesting facts and shared his own observations, making the experience more engaging. We found ourselves getting lost in conversations about everything from historical events to the mysteries of the natural world.

“This place is a treasure trove of information,” I said, looking around at the impressive displays. “There’s so much to take in.”

Paul nodded, his enthusiasm evident. “It really is. I could spend all day here just exploring and learning new things.”

We spent hours wandering through the exhibits, and as the day went on, I felt a growing sense of camaraderie with Paul. Our shared curiosity and enthusiasm made for great company, and I was genuinely enjoying our time together.

As we made our way back to the entrance, Paul looked over at me with a smile. “So, how do you feel about the day so far?”

“It’s been fantastic,” I said, returning his smile. “I didn’t expect to have such a great time. Thanks for making it so enjoyable.”

Paul’s eyes sparkled with a mix of gratitude and amusement. “Glad to hear that. It’s been a pleasure exploring with you.”

We walked out of the museum together, the sun beginning to set and casting a warm glow over the city. The day had been filled with discovery and laughter, and I found myself looking forward to more moments like this as the field trip continued.

As Paul and I made our way back to the bus after a full day at the museum, we decided to take one last stroll around the museum grounds. We came across a small garden area that had been carefully maintained and was home to a variety of plants and, of course, more butterflies.

I stopped to admire a particularly vibrant flower bed, and Paul followed my gaze. “Look at that—more butterflies. They really seem to love this place.”

I chuckled and pointed to a patch of bugs crawling on the leaves. “You know, seeing all these bugs makes me think of something ridiculous.”

Paul raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? What’s that?”

“Well,” I began with a grin, “I couldn’t help but notice that some of these little guys look like they’re having a bit of a band meeting. If I had to name a band after these bugs, I’d call them ‘The Beetles.’”

Paul blinked, then burst into laughter. “The Beetles? That’s brilliant! They’d definitely have a unique sound—imagine their hit single, ‘I Want to Hold Your Beetle.’”

I laughed along with him, enjoying the playful banter. “Exactly! And their debut album could be ‘With a Little Help from My Bugs.’”

Paul wiped a tear from his eye, still chuckling. “You’ve got a real knack for coming up with names. I’m impressed.”

“Well,” I said, “if you ever need a band name or a joke for your future concerts, you know where to find me.”

We continued our walk, still laughing about the joke. The sun was setting, casting a warm golden hue over the museum grounds. As we approached the bus, Paul looked at me with a thoughtful expression.

“You know,” he said, “that’s actually not a bad idea. I think ‘The Beetles’ could work—if only there were enough bugs to fill out the band.”

“Hey, you never know,” I said with a wink. “Maybe we’ll discover a whole new world of insect rock stars.”

We boarded the bus, the laughter from our earlier joke still lingering in the air. As we found our seats, Paul and I exchanged smiles, feeling a new level of camaraderie. It had been a day full of discoveries and laughter, and I couldn’t wait to see what other adventures awaited us on this field trip.

As we settled back into our seats on the bus, the remnants of our laughter still lingering, I couldn’t help but continue with the playful theme. “You know,” I said with a mischievous grin, “if you’re serious about naming a band after these bugs, maybe you should tweak the name a bit.”

Paul raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Oh? What do you have in mind?”

“Well,” I began, “instead of ‘The Beetles,’ why not change it to ‘The Beatles’? It sounds a bit more... musical, don’t you think?”

Paul’s eyes widened in surprise as he processed the suggestion. “The Beatles? That’s actually quite clever. It’s got a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

“Exactly,” I said, pleased with his reaction. “And it’s got that whole play on words thing going on—‘beat’ as in rhythm and ‘beatle’ as in the bug. It’s perfect for a band.”

Paul chuckled, shaking his head in amazement. “You know, you might be onto something there. If I ever start a band, I might just have to use that name.”

I laughed. “Well, if that ever happens, I expect a backstage pass.”

Paul grinned. “Deal. And I’ll make sure to credit you for the name idea.”

As the bus began to pull away, taking us to our accommodations for the night, Paul and I continued chatting about music and our favorite bands. The playful banter had turned into a more engaging conversation, and I was enjoying every moment of it.

The name ‘The Beatles’ had become an inside joke between us, a reminder of a day filled with unexpected fun and connection. As we arrived at our lodgings and prepared for the evening, I couldn’t help but feel that this field trip was turning out to be far more interesting than I’d originally anticipated.

As the days rolled by on our field trip, what started as a casual acquaintance had evolved into something much more meaningful. By the time the final week arrived, Paul and I had settled into a comfortable rhythm, our conversations flowing effortlessly and our shared laughter becoming a staple of our daily interactions.

Our time exploring museums, historical sites, and even the occasional impromptu adventure had drawn us closer. We had spent countless hours together, whether it was discussing our favorite bands, trying to solve random trivia questions, or simply enjoying the quiet moments on the bus rides between destinations.

The final week of the trip arrived with a sense of bittersweet anticipation. On one hand, we were looking forward to returning home and sharing our experiences with friends and family. On the other, it was hard to imagine not seeing Paul every day, not sharing those spontaneous jokes or planning our next playful escapade.

One evening, as we sat on a bench overlooking a scenic park near our lodgings, I turned to Paul, who was idly strumming on his guitar. The soft strains of his music blended with the tranquil surroundings, creating a serene atmosphere that seemed to echo the sentiment of our time together.

“Can you believe it’s almost over?” I asked, watching as the last rays of sunlight painted the sky in hues of orange and pink.

Paul glanced up, his expression thoughtful. “It’s gone by so quickly. Feels like just yesterday we were trying to come up with band names for a bunch of bugs.”

I laughed softly, the memory bringing a warm feeling. “Yeah, and who would have thought that joke would turn into one of our favorite inside jokes?”

Paul smiled, setting his guitar aside and turning to face me. “It’s been an amazing trip. I didn’t expect to make such a good friend, let alone someone I’d look forward to seeing every day.”

I met his gaze, feeling a flutter of emotion. “I know what you mean. This trip has been a lot more memorable because of you.”

We shared a comfortable silence, the evening air cool against our skin. The park was quiet except for the distant sounds of other tourists and the occasional rustle of leaves. It was a peaceful moment, one that seemed to encapsulate everything we had experienced together over the past few weeks.

As the sun set and the stars began to twinkle in the sky, I felt a sense of gratitude for the connection we had built. The upcoming departure felt like a poignant end to a chapter that had brought unexpected joy and companionship.

Paul’s voice broke the silence gently. “You know, even when this trip ends, I hope we stay in touch. It’s been really great getting to know you.”

I nodded, smiling warmly. “I’d like that too. It’s been an incredible journey, and I’m glad we’ve shared it.”

As we sat there, watching the stars emerge and the city lights begin to twinkle in the distance, I couldn’t help but feel that this final week had been the culmination of something truly special. It was the end of an adventure, but also the beginning of a new connection that I hoped would last long after the field trip was over.

The final days of our field trip flew by in a whirlwind of excitement and nostalgia. Before we knew it, the bus was pulling back into our school parking lot, and the familiar sights of our hometown began to come into view. As we disembarked and said our goodbyes to the teachers and other students, there was a palpable sense of both relief and sadness.

Paul and I lingered near the bus, our luggage in hand, as the excitement of returning home mingled with the wistfulness of leaving behind the memorable experiences we had shared. We chatted about our favorite moments and laughed over inside jokes from the trip, trying to hold onto the easy camaraderie we had built.

As the crowd began to thin and students reunited with their families, Paul glanced at me with a thoughtful expression. “Hey,” he began, scratching the back of his neck nervously, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

I looked at him, curiosity piqued. “Yeah? What’s up?”

Paul hesitated for a moment before taking a deep breath. “Well, we’ve spent a lot of time together over the past few weeks, and I’ve really enjoyed it. I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me sometime. Maybe catch a movie or just hang out, you know?”

I felt a surge of warmth at his words, a mixture of surprise and happiness. “Are you asking me out on a date?” I asked, trying to keep my tone light but unable to hide the excitement in my voice.

Paul’s cheeks flushed slightly, and he nodded, a hopeful smile on his lips. “Yeah, I guess I am. I’d really like to get to know you even better.”

I smiled back, feeling a flutter of excitement. “I’d like that too. It sounds like a lot of fun.”

Paul’s grin widened, and he let out a relieved laugh. “Great! I’ll figure out a time and place, and we can make plans. I promise not to drag you into any more bug-related band name discussions.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “I’ll hold you to that. But seriously, I’m looking forward to it.”

As we gathered our belongings and headed toward the school entrance, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of anticipation for what was to come. The field trip had been an unforgettable experience, and now, with this new chapter beginning, I was eager to see where it would lead. The prospect of spending more time with Paul, exploring our growing connection, and creating new memories made the end of the trip feel like a new beginning.

Authors note: I initially intended on making this a series but I wasn’t sure if anybody would read it so please tell me if you are interested!!!

[finelinevogue]

baby honey

summary - it’s the summer of ‘69 and you meet international rockstar harry styles on your summer holiday

warnings: swearing, assault, violence, kissing, shitty parents, self deprecation

pairing: rockstar!harry x reader

word count: +5.1k

California was fucking hot.

The sun was a burdening heat on the back of your neck, whilst the humidity ran you dry. For someone who came from a cold country, the sunny West Coast certainly was a place unlike anything you’d experienced before. It was here that you felt like permanent summer. Every day was sunshine and colour. 

It was mid-summer of 1969 and it was about to be the best summer of your life. School had finished and you had already spent one year as a journalist just as you’d always wanted. You were lucky that your dad was already into the journalism industry, otherwise it would have been very difficult to get in to. As a celebration for a successful year and a 19th birthday treat, your family were treating you to a holiday in California like you’d dreamt of since you were little.

The resort you were staying in was in Malibu - your dad having connections made sure you could stay in a knock-out complex for your first time in Cali. There was a huge, blue, swimming pool that you couldn’t wait to use and cool you down. The view from the villas was breathtaking - the ocean only a hundred metres away, crashing against the coastline with a roar. The sunset ran perfectly down upon the villa, making the outside hammock the perfect place to cosy up and read your favourite romance books.

Everything was perfect. Especially when you met him. 

It was in the evening that you first saw him. You knew him, of course you did, from the endless repeats that he played on your car radio. You had seen his face plastered on some of the biggest billboards in the country. He had sold more records than The Beatles. He was a fucking legend and you couldn’t quite get over that he was in your holiday resort.

Your eyes followed his figure as he walked towards the pool bar. He was wearing short yellow swim trunks and had an open white shirt on top. A cigarette in his hand whilst he ordered some drink, alcohol filled no doubt. His figure was incredible, not too muscly but nowhere near skinny. He was perfect and he was making you blush just by getting to eye at him. 

A tall, blonde, woman with legs as long as a giraffes neck walked next to him and leant over the bar slightly to show off her cleavage. You tutted at how obvious and flirtatious she was. It was gross that women literally threw themselves at men like him, just because of how successful and beautiful they were. He then requested the bartender to buy his lady friend a drink, curling a hand around her waist as he leant into her ear to whisper something. 

Even though he was 26 years old, you were still completely infatuated by him. He was an absolute God in your eyes, rivalled by no-one. But, he was Harry Styles and Harry Styles was only infatuated with one person; himself. 

•••••

“Y/N!”

Your dad called from within the villa. It was two days later and you hadn’t seen Harry anymore, not that you were actively looking for him or anything. 

Putting on an oversized yellow shirt, you buttoned up the top two buttons to cover yourself and your floral-orange swimsuit a bit better. Today you were going down to the pool again, your dad having to meet someone for business in the bar area. Your mum was going to sunbathe and you were going to swim to cool yourself down from this exhausting summer heat. 

“Yeah?” 

“Come on! We’re leaving now!” 

You groaned, grumbling that this was supposed to be a relaxed holiday and not just some rushed vacation. Grabbing your pool bag you threw in your favourite Austen novel and other necessities, before catching up to your parents. 

The pool was quite busy, but quiet enough to grab an excellent spot on the sun loungers. Due to the resort being fairly pricey, it was mainly adults staying here and so there were no rowdy children running around. It made the atmosphere relaxing and almost spa-like. This is exactly what you envisioned when someone asked you what your ideal summer looked like. The pool was quiet, with only a few people swimming lengths. Your mum and you set up on some sun-beds, whilst your dad wandered to the bar to meet his client. 

“Did you put on son lotion?” Your mum asked.

“Yes mum.”

“Don’t want to get wrinkles, Y/N.” She added, even though you told her that you’d put it on already. Your mum was all about looks and how your portray yourself to the public. She was overbearing about it, setting stupid standards for a 19 year old to abide by. 

“I know mum.” You sighed, taking off your shirt and tucking it into your bag. 

Your mum laid down and got to tanning immediately, making sure that she was angled perfectly so there were no flaws on her body. Your mum was very healthy and on a very strict exercise diet, which you didn’t care anything for because you loved yourself for who you were. Unfortunately, your mum could be sharp with her words and cut you like a knife if she wanted. Often she commented on your wider hips and larger boobs, but mostly on your little muffin top on your stomach. They were all parts of you that you had gotten to love and it was annoying that your mum couldn’t just do the same.

“Where are you going?”

“To the pool.” You said, sliding on your sandals so not to walk on the scolding pavement around the pool.

“Take your cover up.” Her words pinched you, making it seem like you in a swimsuit was something you should be embarrassed by. 

Instead of listening to her, you laughed and walked off without your coverup. You turned around to see her shake her head before returning her head onto the  lounger for her nap. Turning back around you-

“Hey, watch ou-.” 

Before you knew it you’d slipped on a pool of water and used the person in front of you as support. Unfortunately they weren’t as stable as you thought and therefore instead of remaining upright, you both went flying sideways and splashing into the cool pool below. The water went all your nose and your eyes had closed two seconds too late. Your body stayed tangled against the other persons, before they kicked off you, into your ribs, and pushed themselves back to the surface. 

Pushing yourself up the surface next you let out a deep gasp, coughing as you expelled all the chlorinated water from your nose and throat. 

“Fucking hell.” The person gasped, gaining their own air back.

“You just kicked me in the ribs, fuck!” You groaned, knowing that was going to leave a nice purple bruise. That was going to be flattering.

“Oh I’m sorry. It’s not like you were the one that fucking pulled me into this shittin’ pool.” 

Turning around and ready to slap this guy in the face, your words got stuck in your throat as you realised who you had pulled into the pool with you. His hair now stuck to his face instead of nestled with curls on top of his head. His sunglasses now floating in the pool next to him instead of laying on his head. And if he were to get out of the pool, no doubt the black t-shirt he wore would stick to his muscles like hot glue. 

“You.” You gasped, actually appalled that the first and only conversation you’d have with your only ever crush was this. You suddenly understood the asshole rockstar personality everyone talked about him having that you stubbornly dismissed. 

“Yeah, me.”

“Dickhead, is what you are.” You said, which he looked slightly taken aback by.

“Me? Dickhead? Honey, you were the one that pulled me into the pool.” He argued back, kicking his legs to stay afloat.

“Could’ve warned me there was a puddle though, no?” 

“Honey, I’m not your fucking daddy. Learn to walk yourself.”

Okay, that was not supposed to send tingles throughout your entire your body but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t. Jesus fuck, why did the asshole have to be hot?

“Yeah well-.”

“Styles. Thought we said we were meeting at the bar, not in the pool.” Your dad said as he stood by the waters edge. 

Your faced dropped its colour, even the sunburn leaching away from the pigment of your skin. You turned your head between your dad and the very attractive rockstar floating in the pool next to you, trying to understand if what was happening was what you thought was happening. 

“Dad? You know Harry Styles?”

“Actually, it’s just Harry.” Harry interrupted.

“And I don’t give a shit.” You sneered.

“Language Y/N.” Your dad scolded you, making you embarrassed that this was even happening. “Styles, let’s go.”

You were too stunned to speak, not actually believing that anything that had just happened actually happened. Harry Styles had fallen into a pool because of you and now you learn he’s partners with your dad in some way. This was both the most exciting and most humiliating day of your existence. 

“Guess I’ll be seeing you around, Y/N.” Harry spoke.

The way he said your name was the last thing on your mind that night.

•••••

“So let me get this straight. Your dad is in partnership with the Harry Styles and you found out because you pulled him into a swimming pool?”

“How bad is it?” You asked your best-friend Tiff, knowing she would know how to do damage control.

“Well I mean not everyone gets to push Harry Styles into a pool. I mean, to be honest, I would love to do that. Like imagine how muscles would all-.”

“Tiff! Not helping.” You shouted down the phone, trying to keep as quiet as possible since you were using the phone in the hotel lobby. 

“Right, sorry.” She cleared her throat. “So? Is he dreamy?” 

“He’s so dreamy.” You sighed, leaning back against the wall.

“Who’s dreamy?” You turned around quickly and was met with Harry right beside you. Your tongue got stuck in your throat as you tried to come up with reasonable answer to his question, seeing as you were definitely not about to inflate his ego by saying him. 

He looked handsome, wearing a pair of high waisted brown trousers and a white wife-beater tucked in. A cigarette was held in his hand and his hair was gelled back now, unlike before in the pool. He had obviously freshened up because you could smell that divine aftershave every interviewer raves about. It was weird to think you were experiencing seeing and smelling him like this. No complaints, apart from the fact he was a giant, self-absorbed, ego-inflaming, prick. 

“Y/N?” Tiff sounded on the other side of the line.

“O-Oh I gotta go Tiff. I’ll call you later okay?” You hung up before you could even hear her answer, too flushed with Harry in front of you to properly concentrate.

“Tiff? Is she single?” Harry asked, taking a puff of his cig and blowing it out in the perfect cloud. It was so hot watching him do that and you’d watch it on repeat every single day if technology allowed it.

“Ugh.” You scoffed, him ruining the moment for himself. “You’re such a man-whore.” You started walking away, no clue as to where. You didn’t realise Harry was following you until his voice sounded from over your shoulder.

“I was merely asking a question, Y/N.” 

“Well I’m not answering it,” You told him, walking a little faster to try and loose him, “and don’t call me Y/N as if you know me.” 

“Baby honey I can do whatever I want to, but you already know that.” His comment was said to get under your skin, which is exactly what it did.

You stopped abruptly, turning around so quickly that you bumped right into his solid chest. Your chest was heaving with frustration, trying to act more grown up than you were so size him up and knock him down. His smell was nearly too intoxicating to think, but you had to get around it in order to make your peace.

“No. What I know is that you’re a selfish and prudish asshole who parades his dick around for any woman or man that wants to sit on it.” 

Your eyes kept locked with his, not wanting to be the one to back down first. Stupidly, your eyes drifted down to his lips just to see how perfect they were up close and it made your heart melt at how luscious they looked. The colour was the most pretty of pinks and the heart-shape to them really made you want to kiss them so badly. You held your restraint though and moved your eyes back to his, only to realise his eyes were looking at your lips. You licked your lips subtly, teasing him with what he couldn’t have. 

The tension was thick between you both, but it was easily cut when the blonde woman from the other day came up beside him.

“Ready to go to my room?” She giggled in the most annoying and high pitched voice you’d ever heard. She also stank of weed, which made you part your gaze from Harrys’ and take a step back. 

Your chest was still trying to come back down from the high of your confrontation with Harry. You stood by, not daring to move. Looking up, you noticed Harry still looking towards you and it made you want to melt like an ice-cream on a hot summers day.

“Y’know what, Stephanie, I think I’ll pass.” He says, untangling her arm from his body.

“It’s Stella.” 

You had to laugh at how he had basically just solidified the point you were making earlier about him sleeping with anyone. You shook your head, actually feeling bad that he felt like his had to maintain his image in this way, before walking away. 

Far away from him. 

•••••

It was later in the evening and you found yourself at a nearby club.

Maybe it hadn’t been the best idea to go by yourself, but you were so intrigued to see how freeing a night out by yourself would be. Your parents were unaware that you had snuck out and you weren’t even sure how you’d been granted entry into a place like that, but you were on your holiday and you didn’t care too much to overthink.

The club was loud and smoky. The air was filled with nicotine and weed, making it hard to breathe any oxygen in. The dance-floor was filled with people grinding and passing joints between one another. You recognised the music as Harry’s blasting through the speakers, making you chuckle at how you just couldn’t escape him. 

Even though he was a complete arse, there was something so magnetic about him. He had this pull towards him that you’d never felt before for anyone else and you were enamoured. It helped that he was ridiculously pretty too.

The bar was packed but you managed to squeeze in a spot, between two men. Their bodies pressed against you and they smelt grossly of sweat, but what else did you expect from a night rave.

“What can I get for you flower?” The bartender asked you, noticing you in the sea of weirdly big men. 

“Vodka cranberry please.” 

“That all?” You nodded to him. “That’s 4.50 please.” He handed out his hand for you to hand over the money.

“I’ve got it.” Someone beat you to it and it turned out it was one of the men from beside you.

“Oh, thank you!” You smiled gratefully.

After getting your drink, you made your way to the dance-floor and started dancing to the music. It was a slow song to start off with, making you sip your drink and float around to the melody, before it changed to more upbeat and you were jumping up and down with no idea where the energy was coming from. You took a few puffs from a blunt rotation that was happening on the dance-floor, but after you’d finished your drink you were out of there in need of a rest.

The toilets were down a few corridors out the back, so you made your way down there. Stumbling was the word you’d rather use than walking, since the alcohol and weed were hitting you all at once. Lightweight. 

“Looking for the toilets?”

You spun around and noticed the man that had bought your drink from before. He was a lot more sober than you, you could tell, which made his large frame intimidate you more than you would’ve liked.

“Yeah, they’re just this way I think.” You pointed down the hallway where a few girls were heading off to, because other than that your brain had no other intuition. 

“No, there this way.” He pointed down a much darker hallway with no one else around.

“But they’re going that way.” You pointed to the girls, before looking back at him. You noticed that he had gotten a lot closer towards you.

“Well they’re going the wrong way.”

“Oh, okay.” You smiled, thinking he was being kind with his helpfulness. 

He waved his arm as if to guide you down the corridor and you thanked him before ‘stumbling’ off again. Your heels on the ground and the constant buzzing sound inside your head left you unaware to the man following close behind. You kept walking down the corridor, becoming more and more confused as you didn’t see any doors or any toilet signs down here. 

You stopped in the hallway near the end, coming to the realisation there were no toilets down here. You didn’t expect anyone to come up right behind you, so when you felt a man’s dick press hard into your back you let out a loud scream. The man grabbed one hand around your body to stop you from fleeing and the other hand went around your mouth to keep you from screaming anymore.

Once he had pressed your body up against the wall with a harsh push, you began to slowly sober up and realise the man had had bad intentions all along. Your head hit the wall with such force it was almost like the sobriety was knocked right back into you. 

“Ssh, ssh. I’m just getting you to pay me back for that drink. You left without me letting you know that it wasn’t entirely for free.” He spoke as you struggled against his hold.

You moved your head to the side to see if there was anyone down the corridor that you could try and get the attention of. But there was no one. It was just you and this man that was most likely going to assault you. Did he know that you were under 21? Or did he not even care? Did he not have any human decency?

“Let me go.” You tried to scream as loud as you could, but it was muffled by his hand. It only made him hold you harder, with the grip on your hip so painful.

“I don’t think so. Now shut up and be a slut for me.” 

He kept his hand over your mouth, not trusting you enough, before moving his other hand to push up your leg and underneath your dress. You kicked your legs as you tried to escape his hold, pushing with all the force you could, but he just kept on going. 

You bit down on his hand, not even caring the taste of blood on your lips from how hard you’d bitten and although it made his hand leave your mouth his hands on your body remained hard enough for you to impossibly escape.

“Help! Please someone! Please!” You shouted down the hallway as loud as you could, before the man slapped you across the face and went back to holding his sore hand over your mouth. This time he pressed jaw-crushingly harder, so much so that it was difficult to breathe.

The tears running down your face stung from the running mascara and your cheek now throbbed from where he had backhanded you. You closed your eyes, continuously crying, when the realisation sunk in that no one was coming and you were going to become broken here. It was clear now that you were not meant for this kind of lifestyle, and possibly this world. If you were treated like this by one sober man, imagine what the next one would do. Your heart hurt as much as your face and hips did as you began thinking of all the reasons for why you deserved this. 

As you’d gotten to reason number three you no longer felt the mans harsh body against yours. You opened your eyes instead to see him being pinned up against the wall on the opposite side, getting punched in the face. You recognised the back of his head from anywhere. 

Harry.

The relief that sunk into your system was overwhelming. So much so that your legs lost their ability to hold you up and the next thing you knew, they collapsed from underneath you and you sunk to the floor. You didn’t care as to what Harry was doing to the man, too much in a state of shock and pain to do anything other than breathe. 

It was a minute later that Harry knelt down in front of you. His face found yours, eyes meeting eyes. He held out his hands to show you that he was asking for your permission to touch you with your consent. You moved your shaky hand into his, not speaking a word. You were worried that if you said the wrong thing then something equally as terrible as before might happen. 

“Y/N, honey, look at me. Hey.” He made sure that you were looking at him. Your watery eyes met his soft and heartbroken looking ones. The grip on his hands was hard enough for you to know he wasn’t leaving, but soft enough so it didn’t hurt. 

“I-I’m sorry.” You whispered, feeling like you had to apologise.

“Don’t do that. Do not apologise. You hear me?” He spoke angrily, not willing to accept you apology on behalf of anybody.

“Sor--”

“No.” He shook his head. “This is not your fault, okay? Y/N, look at me. Look at me and tell me that this is not your fault.” 

“T-this is not my f-ault.” You said shakily, finding it hard to believe your own words. 

“No, it’s not.” He agreed with you. “I am going to help you up and we’re going to go someplace safer and quieter okay? Is that alright?” 

You nodded, but Harry didn’t let you up until he had verbal confirmation. “Yes! Please Harry. I want to go home.” Your eyes welled up and you began to cry again. 

“Okay. It’ll be okay.” He promised.

Before he picked you up, he took off his leather jacket and swung it over your shoulders for a bit more coverage of your body. After he was satisfied, he used his arms to hold you underneath your legs and your upper body so he could carry your bridle-style. Your head instantly went to rest on his chest, closing your eyes to eradicate the bad thoughts from your vision. Your tears were silent but Harry was aware how upset you were. He shouted at people to get out of his way as he brought you outside and into his car. 

Some time later you found yourself awakening from the comfort of a king-size bed. You were confused and scared at the same time.

You immediately touched your fingers to your cheek to feel for a bruise and it was painfully there. You hands started to shake at the thought that all of that had happened and now you were in a strangers bed. Looking down at your clothes you were in a basic black t-shirt and black jogging pants. Your heartbeat started to increase over what had happened after you’d blacked out last night. When had you even blacked out?

As if to answer your questions the door to the bedroom suddenly opened and you curled yourself in a ball and pulled the covers higher. Your eyes softened though when you met Harry’s gaze. He was carrying a tray of something, but he stayed on the other side of the bedroom when he realised you were awake.

“Oh sorry. I thought you’d still be asleep.”

“I j-just woke up.”

“Well I made pancakes if you want any?”

“I’m not hungry.” You smiled kindly, wanting him to know you appreciated the effort anyways. 

“That’s okay.” He smiled, placing the tray on the coffee table across the room from the bed. 

“Did last night actually happen? A-and what happened to the man? How am I here in this bed and w-here even are we--” 

“Y/N, woah woah.” He calmed you down, walking around the edge of the bed until he sat down at the foot of it. He made sure he kept his distance from you. “What do you remember?”

“Honestly, not much. Just pieces. I-I think he nearly touched me. He definitely slapped me and maybe he grabbed my hips.” You lifted the shirt to find finger print marks on your hipbone. They were intense and purple and it made your eyes water at the disgusting marks to your skin. “And you were there. You saved me.”

“I didn’t.”

“Wha... Harry, I remember you coming and pulling that... that man off of me and beating him to shit.” You furrowed your eyebrows, trying to think if maybe it hadn’t been Harry then who else it would’ve been.

“I was there. It was me. But I didn’t save you. If I did then you wouldn’t have any of those marks to your skin.” He said sadly, standing up and pacing intensely.

“Harry you can’t blame yourself for--”

“Well neither can you!” He shouted, running his hands through his hair.

“What?”

“Last night when we were driving home, you kept saying how you deserved what that man was doing to you. That you weren’t as perfect as your mum wanted you to be and that was the reason he went after you.” Harry let out a shakily breathe, before continuing to speak with a crack in his voice. “If I had gotten there two minutes later...”

“Stop Harry.” You shook your head, not wanting to thinking about the ‘if’s’. “Come here.” You patted the space of bed in front of you.

He was apprehensive at first, but when he sat down in front of you it was clear that he instantly relaxed. You sat up and reached for his hands in his lap, twisting your fingers around his until they were comfortably intertwined. You smiled when you caught his smile, knowing he felt exactly the same sparks ignite from your touch as you did his. His hands were so soft and yet so masculine at the same time, like he’d worked a lifetime and yet they were still so new. 

“Are you okay?” You asked.

He let out a heavy breathe of air. “I should be asking you that.” 

“Well too bad. I asked you first.” You bit your lip, stopping you from smiling like you had a high-school crush.

“You’re trouble you.” He shook his head. “I’m okay if you are, though.”

“That’s not what I was asking.”

“Well that’s how I’m answering.” He argues back and you admire how he’s returned to his stubborn self. It actually suits him.

He made you smile though, making you crash forwards and land your head on his lap. His hands quickly stabilise your body so that you can’t fall of his body or the bed. He liked the feeling of you so warm and comfortable around him. You felt like you were made just to fit beside him, at his side. His hands were hesitant to touch you at first, but you could see that he wanted to so you brought one of your hands to guide his to your neck. He found comfort there, caressing the soft skin. 

“Thank you, for last night.” You said, thinking about how you hadn’t said it yet.

“Yeah.” 

“Sorry if I ruined your night.”

“Will you stop apologising? I chose to help you. I chose to spend my night with you.”

“Why, though?” You asked, confused.

“Because believe it or not, I like you.” He sighed, as if the relief of keeping that a secret from you was finally free.

“Like me?”

“Like a lot.” He admitted, turning his pale cheeks pink.

“Me?” 

“I feel like you’re missing the point here.” He laughed, stroking his thumb over your bruised cheek carefully as if his thumb was just going to magically wipe away the hurt. 

“I feel like you are. Harry. You’re choosing to like me over... well like anyone else?” You sat up slightly, your face only inches from his.

“Why is that so hard to believe?” He furrowed his eyebrows.

“Well, because... because-”

“If anything derogatory towards yourself leaves your lips then I’m going to have to kiss you just to prove my point.” He challenges and you take his bait.

“Because I’m quite literally a nobod-”

He kisses you hard. Hard enough for it to hurt your cheek, but also lovely enough for you not to care about your cheek. You let him kiss you because it had been the only thing on your mind since he had sat down next to you. His lips tasted just like his personality, hot but sweet. He was a good kisser, being extra slow, careful and tentative in case he caused anymore damage to you. His hand cupped your bruised cheek with so much care that you melted in a pool of love for him right then and there.

The kiss kept going until you both had to pull away to catch your breathes. It was hard to leave his lips, going back for a secondary peck because you couldn’t resist, but the smile on his face and the glisten in his eyes was worth it. 

“Never thought I would say this but, thank you for saying something derogatory towards yourself!” He laughed breathlessly, still cradling your face like you were the most precious thing to behold. 

Before you could say anything worse about yourself, he pre-empted that you were about to and instead found his lips straight back onto yours. 

[periwinkle-musings]

Did Taylor Swift write "Sweet Nothing" about Paul McCartney and his wife's summer in Wicklow in 1971?

The song "Sweet Nothing" on Taylor Swift's Midnights has always stood out to me as a bit of an anomaly. Until this intriguing quote by Paul McCartney caught my eye:

In a 2001 ABC interview about his wife Linda, who passed away in 1998, Paul McCartney said:

"I would go out for a run, think of some words, get home from the run, write them down, and make a cup a tea for Linda," said McCartney, who would bring it to her for breakfast. "I'd make a little tray, and go up, and then I'd say, 'Hey, by the way, do you want to hear some poetry?' She'd always … she'd say, 'Yeah.' And so I wrote that poem." 'Blessed.' I would come back from a run. With lines of poetry to tell. And having listened, she would say "What a mind."

This is a direct quote and exact same storyline as in "Sweet Nothing." There is NO WAY that is a coincidence. So I wanted to see if Paul and Linda had any connection to Wicklow - the place mentioned in the song. 

I think the McCartney family vacationed at the Luggala Estate in Co. Wicklow, Ireland in the summer of 1971 as an escape from the aftermath of the Beatles breakup.

A sweet Wicklow love story:

Paul McCartney has connections to Luggala going back to 1965-1966 when he partied at the estate with Guinness Brewing heir Tara Browne who was killed in a car accident a few months after his raucous 21st birthday, and inspired the Beatles song "A Day in the Life." Paul was close to Tara and his death deeply impacted him. This Rolling Stone article details their relationship and mentions that Paul has visited Luggala to visit Tara's gravesite since then on "numerous occasions." Paul had not met his wife Linda yet while Tara was alive, but this proves Paul's deep and personal ties to the family and their 5,000 acre private estate in the Wicklow Mountains, which continued to be a private retreat for celebrity guests until it was sold in 2019.

Paul McCartney has posted multiple family photos taken by his wife in the summer of 1971 that appear to be taken near the Luggala Estate in Co. Wicklow. He tweeted this photo on St. Patricks day in 2017 which a previous Reddit thread links to Wicklow in 1971. And recently on March 2022 he tweeted this photo which appears to be taken the same day judging by his shirt and his dog, and credits the photo as being taken by his wife (she was a professional photographer) in Ireland in 1971. Here you have a better view of the surrounding mountains and rocky streams (full of pebbles I'd imagine...) It's notable that the second photo was posted March 2022 around the time when Taylor would be writing and recording the Midnights album.

If you look at the aerial view of Luggala Estate (Now showing on Google Maps as Luggala Lodge), I believe that these photos were taken in one of the rocky streams that feed into the private lake...which is named Lough Tay. (I like to think it's an extra little wink from Taylor that this investigation literally led me to a lake named Lough Tay.)

This area is completely private and the closest public access is from a hiking overlook. This seems like a great place for one of the most famous musicians in the world to hide out with his two young children, 2 dogs, and Linda, who would have been pregnant with Stella McCartney (born Sept 13, 1971).

We know that the family and their dogs were in Ireland in the summer of 1971 from this newspaper article where they were photographed at an airport in August leaving Ireland, which means it's possible that they were in Wicklow a few weeks earlier in July.

Even though The Beatles broke up in 1969, it continued to be messy between members of the band and the financials involved for the next few years. During the summer of 1971 Paul McCartney and John Lennon were embroiled in a very public fight. There were lawsuits and scathing letters (dated 1971) and it's all very complicated so I won't go into it here, but this article has a good overview.

The lyric, "Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors and smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other" could reference these incidents. I could see Taylor relating to Paul going through this public turmoil surrounding business with former friends, because it is similar to what she's going through with her masters.

The lyric "You're in the kitchen humming" could reference Linda's passion for cooking and vegetarian activism. She literally founded a food company and wrote a cookbook. This darling photo on her website shows her cooking at the family home in Scotland in the 1970s. Linda was also a singer and recorded many songs with Paul, so the idea that she could be "humming" makes sense.

Taylor Swift has been friends with the McCartney family for a while. She first met Paul in 2010. She collaborated with Stella McCartney in 2019 for a clothing line as part of the Lover era, and Stella also dressed her for the Evermore album cover in 2020.

Taylor and Paul McCartney famously interviewed each other for Rolling Stone's "Musicians on Musicians" in 2020. In this article they mention how they both like writing under pseudonyms.

But the most surprising thing I learned is that Paul actually wrote a song dedicated to Taylor and her relationship with her fans called "Who Cares."

Notably, the music video also features Taylor's longtime friend Emma Stone wearing rainbow makeup in an otherwise black-and-white world full of cartoonish bullies. It's notable that the music video was released Dec 2018, right before the Lover era would kick off a few months later. Perhaps Paul was showing a bit of preemptive support for Taylor as she embarked on what many of us believe was intended to be her coming out era?

Now to the William Bowery of it all:

Taylor clearly wants us to think Sweet Nothing is about Joe because of the Wicklow name drop, where Joe was papped in July 2021, which looks staged to me.

Interestingly, I can't find any photos of Taylor being seen anywhere near Wicklow, but for some reason she staged a whole photoshoot in Northern Ireland in July, where locals said she "arrived and left by helicopter in a fleeting visit."

She was also seen in several different locations in Belfast in fan photos. This article also says part of Red TV was recorded in Belfast.

Clearly she wanted to be seen and linked to Northern Ireland, and the lyric easily could have been "Does it ever miss Belfast sometimes?" (same number of syllables) but it's not.

"Sweet Nothing" does have a William Bowery co-writing credit. Would Sir Paul McCartney agree to a secret writing credit? Maybe.

I read an interesting twitter thread from a lawyer (who is a Gaylor) that discusses how William Bowery could be a name under which Taylor commissions writing "for hire." Meaning it could be Joe or multiple other people writing under that pseudonym, as opposed to the "Willam Bowery" (spelled different) which is listed as a U.S. Citizen.

Even if Paul wasn't involved in writing the song, I believe he inspired "Sweet Nothing."

---

Note: This theory was originally posted on the R/GaylorSwift subreddit Dec 22, 2022 which is currently set to private. I am the original author of the Reddit post (u/-periwinkle), and am reblogging it on my Tumblr because this theory has been gaining traction and I wanted to create a public version. This version has been slightly expanded and updated with better images. Also, I was not the first person to uncover the "what a mind" quote, and the original person who found it is tagged on Reddit.