#cynful babbles | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

inkykeiji · 3 years

Note

dabi loves how needy you are—lives for it, truly. seeing your tiny hands grasp for him, your lower lip jutted out in the cutest pout, your little foot stomping is his favorite thing in this cursed world, and there are times he’ll tease you just so he can see how far you’ll go for an ounce of affection. “‘s matter, doll? can’t go two seconds without being glued to my side? you need me that badly?” with a lazy smirk on his face, his scarred hand reaching out for you and pulling you onto his lap, resting his chin right on your shoulder and listening to you babble on about your day

dabi will never admit he’s just as needy for you, but his actions tell you everything you need to know. from the second that you two wake up together, his hands are on your body and it’s a damn near impossible task to get him to finally crawl out of bed. “you have things to do, dabi” “i can do you instead” “ok, yes, but after you do the other things” and if he does finally get out of bed, he’s picking you right up and letting you cling onto him as he brews up the first pot of coffee for the day. the second he returns home from some lov stuff, he’s wrapping his body around yours and burying his face in your hair, finding a sense of stability in your scent that he’s been searching his entire life for

neither of you are sure how you’ve managed to stumble into each other’s lives. call it fate, call it destiny, maybe even soulmates. dabi doesn’t really care, though. as long as he gets to keep seeing you look up at him with puppydog eyes, little hands grasping for him, your voice whining out “daaabi, i missed you” after a day of dealing with some shitty people, he’s a happy man. feeling needed—wanted, even—isn’t something he’s used to, and yet you manage to make him feel like the most important person in the goddamn world. you’ve managed to work your hands past all of the barriers he’s put up and touch his scarred heart so gently, he has no other choice than to allow you to hold it

all because you did the one thing no one else has ever done before: you wanted him—not his quirk, not his knowledge, not his connections. just him. you don’t even know the guy’s first name and yet you love him so wholly and unabashedly, he’d cry out of sheer joy if he could. he might even tell you his first name. hell, he might tell you his family name. he might just crack himself open and allow you see every single scar, every single trauma, every single fear, every single little thing that makes him who he is. but for now, he’ll settle for listening to your breath even out as you fall asleep in his arms. it’s his favorite sound, after all

cynic i am still reeling from this. i don’t think i’ll ever ever ever get over this, i love it more than words could ever tell you. i’ve read it over ten times since you sent it and it still makes me tear up when i read it hahaha aaaaaah Crybaby Clari™ but no cyn you truly captured Dari™ so accurately it’s SCARY n i love it so very much 🥺🥺

tw: clari getting extremely sappy and just endless squealing under the cut <3

cynic honestly, this is so so so precious and special to me and i will cherish it forever. let me be sappy for a moment; the fact that you knew i was having an awful time lately and took the time out of your day to send me such a compassionate and thoughtful message means more to me than words could ever adequately tell you. seriously. i appreciate it so much, from the very bottom of my heart, you are such a lovely and wonderful person and i am very lucky to have you in my life <3 please know that i do not take that for granted, ever.

i love every single thing about this i don’t even know where to START hahaha <3 first of all, the little hands n little feet????? YES. so fuckin cute i’m literally SQUEALING hehehe and i love that you included the foot stomping LMAO ugh literally need his attention on me aaaaaaall the time

the “you have things to do, dabi” “i can do you instead” HAD ME SCREAMING HAHAHA I LOVE IT it’s so him too!!!!! just like so so so on brand!! and u know i am entirely head over heels in love with the idea of dabi being extremely secretly needy <333 one of my favourite concepts ever. and ‘finding a sense of stability in your scent that he’s been searching his entire life for’????? i am literally so fucking in love with this line oh my god it’s so beautiful <3

OKAY HAHAHA THIS PARAGRAPH THIS PARAGRAPH I CAN’T EVEN COMMENT ON RIGHT NOW BECAUSE IT LITERALLY MAKES ME BAWL IN THE BEST WAY ahahaha i can’t even form a coherent thought other than it is so sweet, so LOVING and precious and beautiful and aaaah i love it so much cyn it’s SO well written <33

what an amazing way to end such an incredible little piece!!!! this???:

he might just crack himself open and allow you see every single scar, every single trauma, every single fear, every single little thing that makes him who he is. but for now, he’ll settle for listening to your breath even out as you fall asleep in his arms. it’s his favorite sound, after all

YEAH THAT. CYNIC I AM STILL AT A LOSS FOR WORDS PLEASE THIS WHOLE THING IS ABSOLUTELY STUNNING BUT WHAT A WAY TO END IT SERIOUSLY ugh god i’m sorry my feedback’s all over the place i am literally typing this through sobs (pathetic ik) and i am still at a loss for words. honestly cynic it’s so so so special and just an absolutely gorgeous little piece and i will treasure it forever <333 thank you so much, i love you <3

#this is my favourite thing in the whole world #i love it more than anything thank you so much #i just #aaaaah i'm getting emotional AGAIN #i cant even tell you how much this means to me #seriously i love you so much #i hope one day soon i can read this without crying!!#tw vent #so sorry to be doing this here cyn #i think it's because i wish so badly to not be here right now #in this reality or in this universe #and it's getting harder and harder to deal with that? i guess?#anyway i love this and you more than words can express #thank you thank you thank you a billion times thank you #please have a fantastic weekend my precious friend <3 i hope you are safe and healthy!!!!#✨clari's mutuals✨#sexy cow touya-nii's designated milkmaids #simultaneously crying in the club wif cynic #this tag LMAO #clari gets mail #cxnicalsweetheart #I PUBLISHED THIS BY ACCIDENT LMAO WAIT LET ME FINISH ANSWERING

34 notes · View notes

cynmoon · 7 years

Text

I don't think I can properly explain how hard it was for me to look at Jennifer Morrison straight into her perfect face. Like, Colin is a handsome dude, but I made full eye contact, and I could speak, and while my insides may have melted and I nearly spontaneously combusted, I was able to do it.

Jen is just so beautiful in person. I made like 1 second of brief eye contact each time I saw her before I couldn't hold it anymore. I had said this out loud afterwards, and I've seen other people say the same thing in posts, but looking into her face really is like staring into the face of the sun: I think it might physically hurt me if I do it too long, because she is so radiant.

4 notes · View notes

cinnamontoastandtears · 3 years

Note

@moonlady101 : "imagine an AU where Cyn and Paul got along really well, and she left Jules with Paul during the breakup all the time, and then one day, when he is putting the kid to bed Jules goes "mummy said that she wishes it was you dad had left her for" and Paul's heart break because he has always loved John. Imagine Jules added "And I wish it too" as he drifted to sleep."

I read this and immediately thought it was a fantastic idea, could you try ??

<3333

wow, i’m honored that you’d choose me to try and write this! i hope i did well, and all credit for the idea goes to @moonlady101 (they wrote a version of this idea too, you should check it out!)

1968-ish

It’s Friday, and that means that Julian is coming over.

Paul’s knows Cyn needs a break. She loves her son, no doubt about it, but with everything going in her life… she can’t help it if a newly turned five-year-old is too much at the moment.

And Paul doesn’t mind, either. He loves Jules, the boy is so incredibly bright. Not to mention how much he enjoys playing the role without any children of his own. Without Jane around anymore, it’s nice to have someone else in the house, and a babbling little boy at that.

He knows how much of a favor it is to Cyn too. To raise a boy in the kind of hostile relationship she and John had couldn’t have been easy, and it couldn’t have been easy out of it either.

Sometimes, Paul would be watching Jules, and he’d be doing something incredibly basic, just waltzing around on his chubby legs or entertaining himself with a toy, and he’d remind Paul so much of the boy’s father.

It hurt so much, knowing that he was in the role John should have been in. Paul wondered if John even knew about the arrangement he and Cyn had made. And then, if he knew, did he even care?

Julian looked up from his picture book and called to Paul.

“Look!”

“What is it, love?” Paul asked.

“Look at them,” Julian said pointing to the page. Paul kneeled down beside him and took the book in his hands. On the page was a man and a woman, a mother and father of the little boy in the book. They were kissing.

“Oh,” Paul said to himself. “Yeah, look at that.”

Much later, after Paul had cooked and sang and tucked Julian into bed, the little boy shifted under the sheets to look at him.

“Mummy said…” he mumbled.

“What’s that?”

“Mummy said she wished daddy had left her for you instead.”

“S- She what?”

“She told me, she said…” Julian, in sleep and little boy vocabulary was beginning to not make any sense, “If… daddy had to leave her for s- someone, she would want it to be you.”

Paul sighed.

“And…” Jules whispered, “I wish he did too.”

That was the last straw for Paul. He managed to keep together enough to give Julian a kiss on the cheek and whisper sweet dreams, then hurried out of the room.

As soon as the door was closed, the tears began. Paul couldn’t stop them from streaming down his face, pooling in the corners of his mouth and his chin. He had to bite his sleeve to keep from physically crying out.

He loved John, always had. They couldn’t be together now, and if not now then probably never. It wasn’t fair, because Jules was right. Even Cyn could see it. If there was any infidelity it should have been with him.

If anyone should have been with John, it was Paul.

And the knowledge that he wasn’t, wasn’t going to be, had Paul collapsing into a miserable heap on the floor.

When he woke up the next morning, it was to Julian poking his face.

“Uncle Paul? Are you okay?”

In his bleary-eyed early morning vision, Jules looked almost like…

“I’ve got you, love,” Paul whispered, “I’m okay.”

#mclennon #john lennon #paul mccartney #john+paul #beatles fanfiction #i…#ok #requests #thank you!

5 notes · View notes

monst · 4 years

Note

🤭

So Cyn, here's something you didn't ask for but got because the emoji made me think of it 😅. It's super self indulgent 👉👈 (because I will take any opportunity to write villain Deku) so without further ado I present you with:

Run

Villain Deku and Villain Shinsou ft Reader

Warnings: blood, gore, death and you running for your life enjoy ^.^

tw: death and tw: torture <-

You knew you shouldn't gone to investigate. Time and time again you were told not to meddle in the affairs of others. You were constantly told that curiosity killed the cat and that one day your insatiable curiosity would lead you into a trouble you wouldn't be able to wiggle out of. You figured that today was that day...

You had been walking home from work a bit later than usual. Stores were already closed and you were feeling safe as you had always carried some form of protection. The walk was beginning to look like something ordinary and you really didn't mind, you really didn't want to deal with some thug trying to steal your bag. It was always a hassle to call and ambulance after you used your mace.

Just as you deemed that it was going to be an uneventful night you heard a sound. It was a curious sound nothing like a cat shuffling in an alley or the cough of an addict under a lamppost. This sound was human pain. A guttural sound that echoed softly into the crisp night. You had paused once more hearing the noise there was a slight gurgling noise and a cough. You thought that someone could have been sick or intoxicated.

You weren't a hero but you couldn't bear the thought of hearing about a dead body being found in an alley on the morning news. You knew that guilt would eat away at the tissues of your organs. So in both curiosity and moral obligation you slinked closer to the abyss. The closer you got the more clear the noises became. There was a dull sound of something being hit followed by a moan of utter agony. It was then that you put two and two together. Someone was getting beat within an inch of their lives.

Calling the police crossed your mind but all of you wanted to know who it was. Even if it was some nameless thug you wanted to make sure you weren't jumping the gun. Tentatively you peered into the alley. And, your blood chilled at the sight.

The man looked as if he were about to hack up his lungs. And even if you wanted to identify him you wouldn't have been able to from how swollen his face was. His nose was most definitely broken as were a couple of other bones from what you could see. His leg was bent at an odd angle as he laid crumpled against the wall. He was babbling pleas incoherently. Something stereotypical about having kids and begging for his life.

On any other occasion you would have helped out. On any other occasion you wouldn't have been rooted to the spot. You could only flinch when the purple haired man drew his leg back and kicked the mans chest to the wall. The horrible crack of his chest cavity made you wince. You wanted to move, to run, to stop them but stopping them was beyond you. Not when the criminal was none other than Midoriya Izuku and one of his subordinates Shinsou Hitoshi.

You clamped your hand over your mouth to hold in the scream that threatened to rip itself from your lips. You were already trembling when all the purple haired did was speak.

"Are you sure that was everything." He hissed.

"Y-yes I swear." The man hacked out. "P-please I-I told you everything. Le-let me go p-please." He whimpered pathetically.

"Wow Toshi I'm actually impressed." The green haired villain whistled. "You managed to make him squeal all without using your quirk."

The purple haired man scoffed and shoved his bruised knuckles in his pockets. "I don't use my quirk on scum like this."

"So then Mr. Mole ready to kick the bucket?" Midoriya chirped.

"B-but I t-told you everything I know" the man gasped in horror. "P-please have m-mercy."

"Mercy?" Midoriya laughed. "Isn't that precious. Look Toshi he's asking for mercy." The man giggled. His emerald eyes narrowed to slits as a disgusted look crossed his face. There was a terrifying snarl on his lips as he stomped on the man's hand effectively crushing it underneath his crocodile skinned loafers. A twisted grin lit up his features as he spoke.

"Mercy? I don't see why I should even entertain the thought." He hissed, venom dripping off every syllable. "If I recall correctly you didn't offer one of my subordinates mercy when you slit their throat to cover up your tracks. No you didn't."

"Since w-when do you care." The man spat already knowing his fate.

"I don't, but you see that man belonged to me and I don't like it when heroes send rats like you to mess with my property." Midoriya walked closer to the man placing his gloved hand a top his head.

"Deku you fucking rat you'll pay for this! All of this you'll never get-

The man didn't get to finish as Midoriya closed his fist around the mans head crushing his skull effortlessly. You almost heaved at the sight of his blood splattering across the floors, walls and Deku's clothes. As if it weren't horrible enough his brain matter was wiped off his glove by a rag handed to him by the purple haired villain. You were positive they heard your terrified gasp. "That's funny. That's what they all say before they die." He shrugged.

It was then that those emerald pools devoid of compassion landed on you. You looked to Shinsou to see that his soulless eyes were burning holes into you as he leaned against the wall nonchalantly. It was then that your body remembered basic motor skills and you drew your foot back. But when Midoriya turned to fully face you your fear got the best of you and you tripped over your legs landing on your ass.

Your wide eyes looked up at the menacing duo. They resembled vultures from your position on the ground. "Look Toshi we had an audience." Midoriya beamed. "Did you enjoy the show?"

"Y-you he-he could y-you?" You stuttered in shock.

"It's a man eat man world sweet cheeks." Shinsou elaborated. "Weak shits like that mole are just casualty."

"You know." Midoriya mused. "Witnesses are also considered casualty. Don't you think Toshi?"

"At least give her till the count of three." Shinsou snorted.

"Oh! Yes what a marvelous idea!" He chimed. Then in a much deeper tone added "You should start running now sweetheart~"

He didn't need to tell you twice and even as your lungs burned you ran and continued to do so. Your legs didn't let up as your terror fueled you because all you could hear was the man's amused giggles sounding closer and closer and closer....

#bnha villian au #villain deku #villain shinsou #midoriya izuku #shinsou hitoshi #shinsou x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya x reader #villain midoriya #villain deku x reader #villain Shinsou x reader #tw: torture #tw: dark themes #tw: death

245 notes · View notes

letstrywritingmaybe · 6 months

Text

Doing that thing again where I keep trying to tell myself to write and then I just stare at the open doc. I’m gonna run out of free time soon and have to do things in the real world

Update: just watched Kelce micd up and I’m like everyone needs a TE in their life cause I love him. Honestly my queen deserves a himbo era, I might wanna change my football AU now. Though I already had this idea for a different fic

#cynful babbles #does not help that I’m so sleepy right now #I’ve been so busy but having so much fun too

5 notes · View notes

bandtrees · 6 months

Text

finally catching up on earthspark and the appearance of quintus prime sent me and all of my friends into absolute hysterics. my stomach hurt from how hard i was laughing. cyn was sobbing. i cant even look at him and not giggle. this is the first visual instance of this character in all of transformers canon. and he looks like this. i feel sick. i cant do this

#babbles #earthspark #cyn tag #jamie tag #transformers #maccadam

41 notes · View notes

babybeatlesblog · 4 years

Note

Cyn and Johnny with the Baby being super little and super sweet and giggly❤️

Thanks for the ask!

.-.-.

John giggled from his position into the crib.

He was babbling by himself, slightly kicking and cooing.

Cynthia was looking at him, giggling and softly stroking his hair, making him coo and giggle even more.

When the girl leaned down to press a kiss onto his forehead, he let a super sweet and happy giggle.

3 notes · View notes

kreekey · 4 years

Text

Hey, You've Got To Hide Your Love Away

Chapter 1/?: Things (she) Said Today

Pairing: John Lennon & Original Female Character

Genre: Drama, Angst

Words: 1,155

Summary:

John Lennon seems invincible - to everybody else. Sometimes, he convinces himself.

He encounters a woman who ensures he knows otherwise. She’s a nightmare on two legs. She knows the strings of Eleanor Rigby three years prior to its release.

She reveals something to John that he doesn’t want to hear. It’s just a whisper, and it’s like a gunshot.

John was never good at coping with bad news. He reacts like how you might expect him to.

(See the AO3 Post for author’s notes and more tags)

An outdated Chuck Berry song swirled around our thoughts as he balanced me on his knee. For the time, it was absolutely fab. The whole party was.

I sucked in his cigarette, half-lidded. I was perfect. My hair was blonde, just as he claimed he preferred. My thighs couldn’t touch when my feet stood together. My breasts filled my minidress, being playful and naughty all at the same time. I was disgusting, in a way. I was a figment of some horrible man’s fantasy that in truth, he didn’t even really want. Everything about my appearance served to please him. Or, please his need to show off a beautiful trophy while his wife waits at home with their baby.

My arm hooked behind his neck. Neither of us were drunk, only uncaring. My fingers played with his hair.

He smiled at his mate across the room. Anyone could tell why he looked so happily mischievous. He’d gained something here, something to boast about and get power from. Or, he was about to when he took me up to his room. And in his mind, it was nothing selfish. It was a gift I was allowed to get near him at all. Every girl wanted him, every man wanted to be him. John Lennon. The Funny Beatle. He was the Funny Beatle in 1963, anyway.

We were in the hotel lobby now. His hand is on my waist. The people who watched us leave knew what was to come, and he liked that.

We were outside his room now. He told me Paul shared the room, yes, Paul McCartney, the Cute Beatle, the bassist, the other songwriter, the better one - he was babbling now. He was smiling and chuckling and trying to insert the key. There was the slightest blush across his nose when he drank.

“He’s - Paul - he’s still downstairs with Jane. She’s leaving soon - I think she got a modeling gig… She’s not staying with him here tonight.” He rambled, unprompted, slightly giddy, as he entered the suite. He realized with an endearing look back at me, “I mean, he won’t come up needing to use the room. You saw him chatting up that blonde, but he doesn’t do that - that sort of thing to her. Not to Jane. Paul doesn’t run around behind her back, and you can tell that to the papers.”

“Oh, good,” I replied, dumbly. He knew that I was acting dumb and it didn’t deter him. In fact, it made it easier when women were like this with him. So, he graced me with a smile and started kicking off his shoes and undoing his tie. I didn’t like that. I didn’t like that he smiled just because it was easy.

“But, don’t feel bad,” I stopped his busy hands and gently took off his tie myself.

“I don’t,” he said airily, still with an open smirk, barely taking in what I said, distracted by the removal of clothes.

“Don’t feel bad,” I continued, stuffing the tie somewhere underneath my dress. “Just because you would do that ‘sort of thing’ to her. You must know that Paul does, too. He seems too good for that, doesn’t he?”

His expression barely changed. “Paul? He is too good, too nice, he loves Jane too much… She’s not my girl, that’s why I - I guess I would do that to her". Quickly, he added, “but I’m not.” Did he purposely misunderstand me? Or did he just have that much faith in Paul? Nonetheless, John grabbed the small of my back, almost as if to change the subject. He closed his eyes, drew us closer, and felt that electric sensation of touch.

“Not to Jane, I mean. To Cynthia.”

That’s when he stopped smiling. His eyes shot open and his hands fell to his sides. He scoffed, “Cynthia?” His head turned away hesitantly, “Cyn… cor, what are you on about?”

“Yes, Cynthia. I know you’re on tour, but don’t tell me you’ve forgotten your own wife?”

There was a beat of silence. His eyes went blank and his mouth hung a centimeter open, a bit ashamed like a little boy found playing Elvis too loud in his aunt’s house. He searched my face for an answer, and I could provide nothing for him. That smirk was wiped off. I started taking off my heels.

“…‘m not married,” he broke. “I don’t even have a bird.”

To any Beatlemaniac at the time, this was the absolute truth. John was a bachelor, the bachelor that everyone wanted. A paper had just reported “girls” as one of his hobbies. He was presented to be for the admiration of thousands upon thousands of desperate teenage fans, not that he particularly minded. It made nights like these easier to bear. When everyone around him forgot about his wife and baby boy (who were anxiously waiting for his return as her husband and as his father, which was a role he could never really fulfill) John could forget about them, too. It would be a shame to allow that, I thought.

“Did your manager tell you that? To pretend Cynthia doesn’t exist?” I said, gently wrapping an arm around his stiff body and breathing into his ear: “Don’t you ever wonder why that fairy is asking a man like you to forget your wife?”

His negative response was barely loud enough to travel to my ear. One hand snaked down his pants. I whispered sweet nothings in his ears, asking him to prove he wasn’t a dirty queer. His shaky breath wasn’t telling me to stop. Or at least, I couldn’t hear it.

…

John was curled in a little ball underneath the blanket after we finished. He had fallen asleep childishly quickly. I sat up on the bed with one leg extended and a robe wrapped around me and took his pack of Marlboros. His shoulders rose and fell, as vulnerable as a boy from Liverpool.

Did he dream of his family? Or of fame and fortune? Maybe he dreamt of songs he’d write someday - those were the kind of songs he’d soon get so jealous of for ensuring Paul’s success, his easy superiority in the hearts of millions. Someday. Not today. Today, it was 1963, and everyone loved him. Brian had just told him that he was the frontman. His name came first in the credits. It wasn’t Hamburg anymore, where every girl loved the cute bassist and John was overcome with love for a girl he had met at college, writing “I LOVE YOU” back home to her thousands of times. None of that mattered, maybe none of it even happened. Presently, he was overcome with pure admiration rivaling God himself - and it was so easy to mistake that for love. I almost felt bad for him.

When it was morning, I was gone. Paul had stayed at Jane’s house for the night and John was alone.

#john lennon #beatles #the beatles #beatles fic #fanfic #john lennon angst #john lennon fan fic #Hey You've Got to Hide #personal #my work #my writing

6 notes · View notes

fascynating · 7 years

Text

every time i see the word "ah" my brain goes to "ah yes the scalene triangle" but i haven't even watched the original video all the way thru, it made me too uncomfortable

#the internet affects the way I think and make connections so much it freaks me out a lil #cyn babbles

2 notes · View notes

gloves94 · 4 years

Text

The Munter [Paul McCartney] 4

Warnings: None Pairings: Paul McCartney/OC Summary: Sage O'Shea is a hardworking woman of the 1960's. A strange combination of brains and- well- Let's just say she is not your average beauty. Au contraire she's a Munter. John bets Paul that he wouldn't dare date such a monstrous woman. Despite his best judgement Paul agrees and takes John on his daring bet. Will Paul be able to see Sage's true beauty? What's going to happen when poor Sage finds out about their nasty bet? Whether the results are pretty or not- one thing I can say is love works in mysterious ways.

My fanfiction: M A S T E R L I S T

4. The Offer

Friday, November 22nd, 1963

Yes.

It had been possible.

Paul had been shamelessly flirting with her and she had been right to mistrust him. It had all started with the influence of the most troublesome band member corrupting the most impressionable one.

"Didn't know you fancied Brian's little gargoyle," John teased. "Got her a little gift and everything," John Lennon chuckled maliciously as he spun on Brian's desk chair childishly. Opposite of him Paul sat on a sofa chair with his legs crossed. He was calmly reading the newspaper. The small box white box he had gotten his accountant sat on the coffee table at his side.

"Oh, sod off," Paul responded mindlessly under his breath as he flipped a page of the paper. Unluckily for Paul McCartney, John was very bored this morning. "Is it the glasses? That beasty hair mane? The caterpillar brows?" Paul lowered his paper to look at his best mate who was leaning across the desk wiggling his eyebrows. He looked at John with a bored expression and shook his head.

"John, leave her be," Paul sighed.

"John, leave her be," John retorted in a mocking tone as he babbled like the buffoon he was. Sometimes Paul didn't understand why John had been baptized as the "Smart Beatle". He could be so obnoxious sometimes.

"There you go again defending the Four Eyes," John taunted.

"Why?" Paul glared. "Why are you so fixated on her appearance?" He frowned as he put his newspaper down. The edge of John's lips curled

"Ah, I know what you're doing Macca. See I think what you're doing is very clever."

"And what exactly am I doing?" Paul arched an eyebrow.

"You're buttering up the little monster so she can do your bidding. Clever man. I hope you can pull some strings for me, eh Paulie."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Paul rolled his eyes as he returned his attention to the day's dull news. "Oh yeah?" John's voice dripped like honey as he sought out the best way to stir the pot to push all of Paul's hot buttons. "But wouldn't it just be grand?" He pressed on. "I can't stand the thought of having to cut my budget. And it won't be long before she's bossing us around on Brian's behalf. Breathing down our necks. Locking us up for the weekend with a ball and chain!" He declared dramatically.

"She'll be a bug John, but it's her job," the other shrugged.

"You see I - I need to keep my affairs in order." John tossed a pencil against the desk and looked terribly smug.

Again Paul lowered his paper. This time he ripped a page out.

"Which ones? Financial or romantic you swine?" Paul said as he crumbled up the paper ball and threw it at John hitting him on the head.

"Both," Lennon replied shamelessly with an eat-shit grin.

"You're a pig Lennon, and Cyn- she's expecting."

"It’s not the same when they are expecting. Everything changes. All she does is bitch and bitch and bitch. You’d think I married a mouth instead!" John laughed. Paul once again rolled his eyes.

"Enjoy it while you can- and always - alwayscarry a rubber with you!" John gave Paul an unwanted penny for his thoughts. Paul shook his head and stood up ready to leave the room and maybe flirt with that new blonde girl just to kill time.

"Wait! I just had the grandest idea!" John exclaimed as he snaked around the desk like the vile creature he is and stood before Paul blocking his way out. "Bet you can't seduce the Munter," he slapped his friend's arm. "Oh I bet you!" He said giddily.

Paul scoffed. Please.

"I'd be a ball. She'd do whatever you say. We'd have her under our thumb!"

It was ridiculous. It was incredulous. John had to be joking. Both laughed at John's ridiculous proposal. "Very funny you git," Paul laughed.

"Unless- you don't think you can?" John pressed with a mischievous glint on his eyes. This struck a chord in Paul. John knew exactly what he was doing how he was riling his best friend up.

"Can't? Of course, I can," Paul said smugly puffing up his chest. "Would I?" he huffed. "Not in a million years. I'm not the one that needs glasses Lennon."

"Why don't you do it?" Paul suddenly shot back. Slapping his best mate's arms back. "You seem to have a bitching good time doing it to others."

"Paul, I'm a married man," John opened his arms innocently as he retreated back to Brian's desk chair.

"Alright mate, you're only married when it suits you."

"But which one of the Fabulous Four would have the greatest success? I am after all loyally committed," He stuck out his wedding band finger. "Ringo is not even half as charming as you are- and well George is well George." Lennon shrugged.

"John," Paul found himself almost magnetized as he retreated back to his original seat. "She's a little- alright - she's hardon the eyes. I'd be monstrous to do something so horrid to her – to anyone."

"Fine, if not you. I guess I'll just have to find somebody else," John tempted as he spun in his chair with an innocent façade. "Unless, of course, you don't think you can tame the wildebeest." John chuckled quietly, his light brown eyes lingering on his bandmate.

The gears in Paul's brain quickly ticked and turned and taken over by his weak male ego he grinned. "Alright then. What's in it for me then?"

"What do you want? Money? I'll wear drag for a week if you want," John chuckled. "Anything you want Paulie."

It was then that his conscience got the best of him.

"No John. We can't do this," Paul hesitated.

"Why not?" John said a bit too quickly. He had been so close to getting Paul wrapped in his evil scheme.

"What if- what if I'm not her type?" Paul sought out an excuse out of this sure to be mess. It was wrong. It was unethical. It was a horrid thing to do to anyone. "What if she rejects me?" He deadpanned.

"Oh, so you are interested then?" John grinned. The other sighed. "Oh, You dirty dog!" John slapped his palms on Brian's desk.

"John!" Paul exclaimed. "Just what had he gotten himself into. She's a Munter," he whispered in an agitated hiss. Even if it was only the two of them in the room. "I-I can't even picture myself holding her hand!"

"Do you want to?" John poked.

"Want to what?"

"Hold her hand?"

Paul rolled his eyes.

"Let's shake on it then," John stretched out his hand. He truly was the devil and not in disguise. His hand was even twitching with eagerness. "Let's be real, you'd be doing her a favor. You paying attention to her would be the grandest thing to ever have happened in her sad little life. You know what? We'll do this for fun, bet you can't get the gargoyle to fall in love with you." John laughed.

It was childish. It was so unnecessary. How old were they again? Did they not have anything better to do?

But it hurt Paul's pride. He knew he could. Girls of all ways of life practically threw themselves at him. What would make this one any different? It would be easy. Besides, he was never one to back down from a challenge.

Paul should've thought about it a little more. Should've been more empathic more mature about the entire ordeal.

"You're on mate," he slapped his palm on John's.

Saturday, November 22, 1963

I swung my bag over my shoulder as I made my way home. On my other hand I my heavy messenger bag now loaded with George and Ringo’s accounting paperwork.

“Sage!” I turned around and stopped dead in my tracks. It took only a moment for a person to tackle me into an aggressive embrace. “Thank you!” Isabel shouted into my ear. “You saved my life!” She exclaimed as I had to pry her arms from around me.

"Not your life, just your job," I clarified in a bored tone.

"Still!" She insisted reaching for my hands.

"Why did you do it?" She asked the million-dollar question, her brown eyes wide.

I shrugged. Maybe it had been Ringo’s expression. Maybe it had been the desperation in the woman’s eyes who knows. I mean I’m not the devil, it wouldn’t have made me a better person.

I simply shrugged and turned away.

"I'm sorry!" Isabel called out as I walked away.

Xxx

"Mum! I'm home!" I called once I arrived home, but surprisingly mother wasn't home. "Odd..."

I made my way to the living room and began to play an old Sinatra record and just momentarily unwind. Throwing the bag with all the paper work to the sofa with an exhausted sigh. You'd think a girl would catch a break on the weekends. I fished out the little paper where Paul had neatly written his phone number and address. “’To the loveliest vision," the other note that had been found alongside the gift was burning in the pages of the diary I kept in my night stand's drawer. I didn't dare ask if he had written that or even what it meant. So I decided to phone him, it wasn't late enough that I would inconvenience him or early enough that he might be out an about. I toyed with the phone cord nervously as it dialed. It was then that a voice much to gruff to belong to the Cute Beatle picked up on the other line. "Hello?" "Hello," I retorted politely. "Hi- Good evening. Is Paul there?" The line went dead with a ring. I looked at the phone confused before once again dialing hoping we had gotten cut off or something, but alas nothing. I mean- why call him? Wouldn't it be easier if I just went over ahead and dropped off the papers? There was no need for chit-chat. Deciding to get over with it, I once again dressed up in my winter gear and decided to make my way over to his place. It was then that the phone rang. It could only be him. Who else? "Yes, Paul?" I picked up on the second ring sounding a little too eager. "Paul?" It was a woman's voice. "Why is Paul phoning you?" the voice asked. "Isabel," I greeted curtly. "Never the mind, Sage, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come over? So that we could review some accounting terms?" I didn't hesitate in hanging up the phone. The nerve.I had already done enough for the woman. xxx The address that he had written wasn't too far away from my own home. Once I arrived, I had to do a double take at the address. Yup, this was it. It wasn't the place where I would image a Beatle lived. It was a simple red brick house with a luscious green garden. Approaching the front door, I rang the doorbell. The door opened and an older gentleman opened it. He visibly cringed when he saw me and with a groaning noise slammed it on my face.

"Hey!" I protested banging on the door. This was the right address, I was certain. And what a rude man!

"I'll tell lol you something girly, you're not the first or the last to come by today, but you really are the ugliest one!" The grouchy man said in a rough voice through the door.

"I'm here to see Paul!" I shouted back ignoring the insult.

"Oh, I know. You're the one that's been ringing incessantly! And don't even get me started-" I could hear him stepping away.

"I work for Brian Epstein!" I shouted. "Paul asked me to come deliver some papers," I explained breathlessly. The older man opened the door wide this time and eyed me curiously with mistrusting eyes. "If you don't believe me, here," I handed him a note. "It's his handwriting." It was.

Moving aside like a troll block an entrance the older man moved and allowed me to come inside the house which smelled like fresh paint. I figured he probably had just moved here. He lead me to the living room and instructed for me to sit before going into the kitchen.

He returned escorting two young girls out of the house.

"Ladies, thank you for cleaning my floor, dishes and shelves. I promise you; I'll ring you when Paul gets here. Buh-bye," he waved as they left.

They both called out a "Thank you Mr. McCartney" and left.

By the resemblance and attitude I could only guess that the man was Paul's father.

"Sorry about that," he began as he clapped his hands off as if dusting them off.

"They are driving me absolutely looney! Ringing all day, breaking into my home. These two offered to clean, figured they might as well make them useful," he chuckled.

I sat uncomfortably in the new living room with my legs shut tightly together and my bag guarded in my arms anxiously.

"Tea and biscuits?" He offered.

This was very awkward. I wasn't sure what to say and Jim McCartney, Paul's father sat across from me eyeing me as if I had two heads.

"You're not like the others," he said wisely as he sipped on some tea. "I know these things," he pointed wisely. "If I may ask- why don't you shriek and sob like the others do with my son? Or lust after him like a rabbit in heat?"

I rudely spluttered some of the tea I had been sipping back in the tea cup I had been drinking from. I put the cup down and cleared my throat.

"Well sir, I'm a professional you see? I work for a Brian Epstein and the rest of the band, that is, including your son. I'm his accountant." I explained.

"A working woman," he nodded impressed. "I was young once as well- so if you would just tell me the real reason," his tone changed to a bored one.

Mr. McCartney really didn't beat around the bush.

"Well," I took in a deep breath and let out an uneasy laugh.

"You said it yourself, I'm the ugliest girl that's come by the house all day long," I shrugged. "And yet- you don't allow that pessimistic opinion to defeat you. You really are different," he sipped some of his tea.

"I'm a realistic person Mr. McCartney, I am well aware that your son or any other Beatle or man would be sent to a mad house if they even considered laying their eyes on me. I know that perhaps beauty isn't my affinity, but I'm pretty brilliant in other areas. Also, at the end of the day they are just humans like you and I,” I offered with a small smile.

He couldn't help but chuckle. "Well best watch out for Paulie, that's never stopped him before," he wiggled his arched eyebrows.

"Dad!" It was Paul. The voice came from upstairs. He came down from the stairs with his hair soaking wet. He was dressed in casual clothes and wearing his house slippers. His face was pink, and he looked terribly embarrassed. Had he been eavesdropping?

"What are you doing you twisted old man?" He protested as he joined them in the living room. He looked around swiftly for the fan girls. "Are they gone?" He asked in a hushed tone.

"Oh, relax son. Yes, they are gone. These girls are starting to come in handy, they're cheaper than a maid!" He said with both his brows raised.

"They steal my underwear and socks dad!" Paul protested.

"You don't even live here!" The other retorted.

"Sorry that you got stuck here with my old man. I hope he didn't bore you to death," Paul apologized. "Bored her? Ms. O'Shea has proven to be one of the most pleasant conversation that I've had in weeks! All of your other girls are all brain dead 'where's Paul?' 'Can I see his pictures?' 'Paulie this, Paulie that, yadda, yadda,'" he rolled his eyes. "Its refreshing to have someone that doesn't want to talk about you all the time!"

Paul ran a hand through his wet hair nervously.

"Yeah, remember that you were just going to bed?" Paul said through gritted teeth.

Mr. McCartney waved him up and made his way upstairs.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever. I'll leave you two kids to it."

Paul sighed and shook his head.

"Sorry about him, he gets lonely in the city. More so, now that I don't live with him." He sighed. "Oh, that's fine. My mother is the same," I nodded understanding.

"I'm remodeling my pad so I'm crashing with Old Jim for the time being."

There was an awkward silence. I was unsure of how to proceed. I fidgeted with my thumbs I eyed the door nervously ready to escape. It was simple just drop off the papers and get out.

Here I was. Alone with Paul. His hair was wet and sticking to his forehead. He wore a white t-shirt and a pair of brown pants. Drop the papers and get out.

"Some scotch?" I was caught off guard by Paul preparing himself a drink.

"N-No thanks," I answered warily, "I don't drink," I explained. Get out. The voice inside of my head said to me.

Paul raised his eyebrows surprised. "Try it then, it won't kill ya," he said with a coy smile as he poured her a cold glass old fashioned scotch. It was that same smile, the one that would make girls bend over backwards to do anything for him. It worked wonders. Not wanting to look lame, I thanked him quietly and took the glass in my hands. I swirled the golden drink in my hand inspecting its density and realized that he had put a record on.

The song was more than familiar.

“Y-you like Sinatra?” I asked surprised. What a stupid question. Who doesn't like Sinatra?

“Old Blue Eyes?,” he responded. “I know you do.” There it was again - that damn smile.

Oh, right. He had been in that cave hole that is considered to be my office. I figured he must’ve seen the framed portrait I keep on my desk.

“Right,” She retorted curtly my eyes darted for the door. Out. I really didn’t like the way he was looking at me. Paul approached me and sat in the sofa next to me. His body was pivoted so that he was facing me. His arm was casually arched resting over the sofa’s seat. He took a heavy sip of his drink. I inched away from him as inconspicuously as I possibly could.

Romantic music, alcohol, his body language. My mind began to race, there was no way in hell he had invited me over with the malicious intent to seduce me. Then again there was that note. I looked at him oddly. Paul was called the Cute Beatles by the obsessive groupies that stalked and followed the band around everywhere. With his perfectly arched eyebrows, full lips, petite nose and dangerous bedroom eyes in my eyes he was the most handsome of the Fab Four.

“Try it,” he said leaning over and raising up the glass slightly to my lips. I took a drink from her glass just like he had done and just how I had seen people do in flickers whenever they wanted to appear cool headed.

I felt my throat clamp shut and groaned as the strong liquor burned. I couldn't help it, I began violently coughing.

"Hey easy there, it's not Lemonade," Paul said after a chuckle. "Water?" He offered kindly touching my shoulder. This gesture was enough to send me overdrive.

I managed to nod through coughs as I patted my chest.

This was too much. Too weird. Too awkward. I looked at the door only a couple of steps away. I had delivered the papers. I could make a go for it and just leave.

As soon as he was gone, I swung my coat on and made a go for the door as quickly as I could.

I was about to reach the doorknob-

"Running away?" I could almost hear the smirk on his lips. I had been caught. I felt my face turn scarlet and flush with embarrassment. There was a smug expression on his face he held a glass of water on his other hand.

"It's late, it's getting dark. I best get going," I spoke quickly with a raspy throat.

"Nonsense!" He replied approaching me and handing me the glass of water. His cold hand touched mine as he did. It lingered there for a second, enough to make my heart skip a beat. I must've been imagining thing because the edge of his lip slightly curled into a grin before he turned to reach for his coat from the coat hanger.

"A lady should never walk home at night unescorted," he said picking up a set of car keys. "Come on, I'll drive you home."

"No. It's close by-" I protested but he simply pushed me out the door. He wasn't even wearing shoes! He was on his slippers!

Outside he ducked his damp hair from the November winter. "Paul!" I opposed. "I'll be fine, I swear."

"Inside," The gentleman said as he opened the car door open.

My eyes slightly widened at the gesture. No man before had ever offered to escort me home before, much less had bothered to open the car door for me.

Without an alternative I stepped inside of the silver convertible. I sat inside of his nice car stiffly. It was an Austin Healey 3000, the type of car that I had only seen in James Bond flickers or in toy form much less been inside of. Like the house the convertible also smelled new.

I clenched my shaky hands in an attempt to appear more composed. This was so inappropriate, nothing good would come out of this, I know it. He clearly does not like me; he could not like me. He could not be flirting with me. Not one boy had ever reallyfancied her, and the one that had- well... let's just say it is not a pleasant story.

He got in the drivers seat and turned to smile at me. I turn away hoping he won't realize just how nervous I really am. He set on the ignition and drove on to the address I gave him. Neither of us exchanged a single word during the entire car ride. I was too nervous and well- only God knows what was running through his head. "Music," he said. It was more of a factual statement not an offer as he turned on the radio.

“Yes music!" I retorted louder than intended. Finally, they were outside of my house. The home was your stereotypical middle lower-class British home.

"Thank you very much Paul, goodnight! Ta!" I said hurriedly as I opened the door almost running for her dear life.

"Sage wait!" His hand reached for my arm as he held me in place.

"I'll confess," he began, and I shallow a knot that had formed in my throat.

"I invited you with an ulterior motive." Uh-oh.

I looked at him with both of my eyes wide. For a moment I could've sworn that her heart stopped. It wasn't possible. His grip tightened around the fabric of my coat. He looked at my terrified expression. "I-I actually wanted to…” there was a hint of hesitation on his tone.

I held her breath as he pondered on his words. I wondered just what in the world he could've wanted to do with me.

The music, the lighting, the booze, I prayed it wasn't a some ruse he played on all the new members of Brian Epstein’s team.

xxx

There was an angel standing on Paul’s right shoulder. It reminded him of his mother, may she rest in peace. It reminded Paul that the eyes of a person are the windows to their soul and hers were kind. They were innocent, and vulnerable, pure and hidden away from the word shielded by two framed glass walls.

On his other shoulder however was a horned imp wearing red suit that resembled his best friend, John.

“You dirty dog,” it laughed inside of his head. “Don’t tell me you’re begging to get sappy over the Munter? Ya pansy cakeboy!”

John’s imaginary voice reminded him of the bet he had agreed to be a part of. Maybe he was right, maybe it would be fun. Considering she had almost ran away from him twice now it was definitely going to be a challenge. And the only challenge wouldn’t be getting her to fancy him-

He tried not to stare at her massive eyebrow, her poor skin, her bushy untamed hair and just overall awkwardness.

How was he supposed to even kiss her? Would he have to find a way around it? Turn off the lights? Do it in pitch darkness.

Paul wasn’t a masochist but- now he hadto do it. His hubris was on the line. Besides, he still had time to think just what vile thing he would ask John to do once they got even.

So he pulled a malicious lie out of his ass.

"Sage," he looked down to reach for her hand but she kept them tucked close to her body looking terribly uncomfortable.

"You're-" he ransacked his brain for a compliment.

Paul was a man of words, he had to select his adjectives with a keen eye to detail. He really should've thought this more thoroughly.

Beautiful? Nah. Too much, too fast - besides it would sound like a hollow compliment. Pretty? Too overused.

Suddenly he found himself stuck. This really was going to be harder than he had assumed. It was so easy to tell any woman that they were beautiful. They might be bashful about it, but they would believe anything that came out of his lips. This one- what would he praise?

"Smart," he blurted. "Brilliant!" He said more to himself at the comment. "You're a woman whom I don't have to pray to the Lord to throw some brains down from heaven. You're efficient-"

Her eyes were wide in shock and confusion as he spoke.

"Point is-" he mumbled to himself. How would he go on about this? "I want you-" He paused for a moment. How would he word this? 'Have dinner with me?', 'Come out with me?', 'Come out. We could go dancing have a good time.' He was at loss of words and he looked at her, this time he really looked at her. The innocence that was reflected on her face. He couldn't do this to her. "-be my personal assistant," he finished dully.

She remained mute. This was too weird. "I-I'll pay you handsomely, twice whatever it is that Brian pays you."

It took her a moment to regain her composure. "I-I don't know what to say," she responded flabbergasted. "Paul, I'm flattered, I really am, but I'm looking for something more serious and I'm happy with my current position."

"Which is why I'm paying you more," he pressed.

"I'm sorry, but I can't." She said shaking her head, "I didn't kill myself studying just to end up as- an assistant." She said lowly sounding frustrated. He let go of her arm and she excited the car.

Paul was struck, had she just rejected his offer?

He rolled down the window as she rushed up the stairs. He had to do something, say something.

"This is exactly why I need you!" He shouted after her.

She froze in her steps and turned to face him in the cold night. Hands shoved deep inside of her pockets. She looked at him expecting him to continue. to her surprise he even got off his car and stepped towards her. She looked at his tall frame approaching her. Maybe he had been completely wrong about her.

He guessed there were simply something's that money couldn't buy. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out, his brows furrowed. "Thanks for the ride," she mumbled before reaching her door.

"You are one of the few people that see and treat me- actually treat us. As actually human beings." He spewed unsure of where all of this was coming from. "You don't put me or the others in a godly pedestal. You-You respect yourself, which makes you an even more valuable… team asset." He licked his lips, and shifted on his feet uneasily. “Think of it as a steppingstone in your career.” Her eyes lingered on him for a second. There was something about his offer that made her uneasy. Something that didn't sit right with her gut.

"Goodnight Paul.”

xxx

First https://gloves94.tumblr.com/post/615538641525243904/the-munter-the-beatles-1

Next https://gloves94.tumblr.com/post/615552126053236736/the-munter-the-beatles-5

Prev https://gloves94.tumblr.com/post/615544650019799040/the-munter-the-beatles-3

#the beatles #beatles #fanfic #John lennon #Paul mccartney #George harrison #Beatles fanfic #ringo starr #lennon #mccartney #oc

1 note · View note