#anway. like this outfit. its very nice | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

templarhalo · 4 years

Text

Templarhalo reviews Birds of Prey. (It’s pretty fantabulous)

HERE BE SPOILERS YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Ok without this movie, I would have not been a Cassandra Cain fan. I would have not four, yes four ongoing fics with her as the main character. I would not be emotionally and financially invested in the DC cinematic universe or the comics side of things.

Which baffles me because this movie is perfect in almost every aspect,... Except how they treated Cassandra Cain. Which is a fucking shame because her actress is perfect, her chemistry and relationship with Harley is perfect, and the idea of Cass growing up as this pickpocket foster kid, taken in by Harley is unconventional, but I fucking love it.

Here’s a brief summary. After breaking up with the Joker Harley Quinn has to make her own way as the strong, badass, indepent woman we all know she is, while dealing with the fact that without Mistah J’s fell reputation as his significant other to shield her, a lot of people want her raped, tortured, killed and left for the crows… Not necessarily in that order.

To get these people off her back and save her own skin, from one of them, the infamous Black Mask. Harley agrees to recover the Bertinelli Diamond, a diamond encoded with the info for a source of 30 million dollars, Black Mask needs to fiance his take over of Gotham. Which was pickpocketed from one of his associates by our Lady and savior Cass.

The problem is, Cass kind of ate it( (I shit you not) and Black Mask’s guys would rather cut it out of her than wait for the poor kid to take a dump Not to mention Detective tReene Montoya (played by her Gotham Actress, which would have been a nice bit of world building if Gotham was actually in the movie continuity) building a case against Black Mask, with the aid of Black Canary Plus Huntress is indirectly gunning for him and Harley in her own quest for revenge. All these plot points converge into a very satisfying climax and fight scene with a somewhat emotionally satisfying ending.

From a technical standpoint this film is a spectacle. Gotham in the day is colorful but rundown, with markets, suave evil bad guy clubs, dilapidated Chinese restaurants and abandoned amusement parks. The fight scenes are AMAZING with a wonderful tension and energy that makes them incredibly visualising satisfying. Everything flows, the ladies move with an enthralling grace that makes them breaking bones, crushing legs,and tearing through people visceral and heartstopping. (And arousing. Like goddamn Jurnee Smollett-Bell could kill me with her legs and I’d thank her)

The problem, is none of this applies to Cass, and this is the films major flaw besides how short it is. (One hour and forty five minutes). If you had problems with how Harley was handled in Suicide Squad, the movie fixes it. Black Canary gets a short but satisfying emotional arc that feels natural. She goes from a cynical, lethargic woman, content to be Black Masks “Little Bird”; A singer at his club, driver and symbol of his power/dominance over other women until her own conscience kicks in at Harley and Cass’ predicament. Huntress also has a short but satisfying arc in which she gets her vengeance on the people who murdered her family and clearly finds a new one to fill the hole in her life, in the form of the Birds. Reene and her portrayal is a love letter to the 80s cop/hard boiled detectives, a pure, simultaneously complicated/uncomplicated woman seeking to do good for Gotham.

But Cass… Doesn’t feel like Cass and is criminally underutilized except as a walking mcguffin by dint of eating the Mcguffin. She’s introduced to us a snarky tween, stuck in a cycle of shitty foster homes and a pickpocket to get by. And that’s it. T

here are moments where you think she'll get a cool fight scene. Moments where you think she’ll have an emotional heart to heart with Harley, moments where you think…she’ll do something besides run from the bad guys and get saved by the Birds of Prey/Her four moms.

In the end she drives into the sunset with Harley and Bruce the Hyena, but it doesn’t feel earned, satisfying as the scene is. There is nothing implying or hinting she’s the daughter of two of the deadliest assassins in the DC universe, nothing about her running away from David Cain, nothing on her learning disabilities/selective mutism and NOTHING, setting her up to be adopted by Batman and become Batgirl

And this is a fucking shame, because Ella Jay Basco has a real chemistry with Margert and the rest of the cast. She’s adorable, funny, snarky and wonderful as Cass. She brings energy and spunk and I would cut off my left hand, to see her act as Cassandra Cain, not this generic punk kid with the name.

And I feel like this is a HUGE problem because the movie sets up this Mother/daughter relationship, with Cass being Harley’s motivation to be a better person. She goes from willing to hand her over to Black Mask to taking the kid under her wing. Cass is the glue that bands the Birds of Prey together. These lovely, dangerous, women coming together to keep a little girl safe, doesn’t feel as emotionally satisfying as it should because Cass isn’t Cass.

While I will praise the movie for Harley’s arc of seeking her own emancipation and agency outside her abusive relationships and life of crime, I feel like Harley’s arc should have been a question of redemption. Cassandra’s motivation to become Batgirl was her refusal to kill again. (Hey WB remember how in Batman Begins Bruce refused to kill a man because “I will not be an executioner.”)

Here Cass is fine with killing. She chucks a bomb at some goons chasing her and she kills Black Mask with a grenade in the end.

Yeah… Cass “I refuse to kill because my dad made me kill an innocent man at eight years old and killing is wrong” kills people.

*head meet desk*

Sucide Squad, set up Harley and the squad, for an unconventional redemption arc, spite motivated it may be, yet Harley despite her line to Cass “You make me want to be a less terrible person” isn’t seeking to make amends for what she did as the Joker’s henchman. (Like being an accomplice to Jason Todd’s murder).

.Cass pickpots and steals to survive, because she’s a kid with no family passed from foster home to foster home, Harley steals because she can, steal a truck to blow up a chemical plant because she can. Kills because she can. (granted she does use an M79 grenade launcher with bean bag shells for one scene but besides that.)

I like the idea of Harley taking Cass under her wing, its an unconventional but fresh idea, but it doesn’t feel entirely satisfying, and Cass not being Cass, not having an arc beyond “Go along with Harley as her apprentice” really undermines the excellent themes and message the movie is trying to convey.

Now maybe in the Suicide Squad reboot with James Gunn or a future DC film , Cass is going to leave Harley because that life of crime and killing doesn’t suit her and she realizes she’s trying to be something she’s not and I’m just being overly critical, but I still feel like “Harley and Cass seeking redemption and moving past their abusers together” should have been where this movie left off, and it baffles me that it doesn’t from a narrative perspective.

Anway the overall themes and message of Birds of Prey are represented in Evan Mcregor’s Black Mask, a walking talking example of repressive toxic masculinity and misogyny. A flamboyant, all but stated to be a repressed Bi, crime lord seeking to take control of Gotham, Black Mask moves with confidence in his loud suits, and charming quirkiness, He’s cruel, sadistic and repulsive His mannerisms ooz terror,and insanity. He moves like a love child between Heath Ledger and Joaquin Phoenix’s take on the Joker, Gaston from Beauty and the Beast and Joffery Baratheon from Game of Thrones. He’s a control freak, trying to be a badass.

One minute he’s the Godfather, the next he’s a brat. He views Harley as nothing without the Joker, telling her that she needs him to protect her. He enjoys asserting his dominance over Harley during her brief capture by having his men beat her while he eats popcorn. He objectifies Black Canary for her singing voice and beauty..

Black Mask asserts his power and authority over the underworld by his control over women. In one frightening scene, he believes one of the women at his club is laughing at him for his failure to capture Cass, so he orders her to stand on a table, then for her boyfriend to rip open her dress with a knife because he finds it ugly.

In summary he represents the patriarchy. He represents sexist, abusive men. He’s a representation of social norms and ideals that are repressive and disgusting, and rob women of their agency, and self-worth. He represents the use of violence, not for noble reasons, but as a means to control women and lash out at those that defy him and supposedly wronged him .

Furthering this line of thought are the costumes. Black Canary’s costumes represent the amount of control, Black Mask has in her life. When we first see her, Dinah is wearing a long black netted evening gown that accents her legs as she sings “It’s a Man’s Man’s World”. Later she wears a blue tank top and gold, tightfitting pants clearly meant to draw our gaze to her ass and thighs. When she’s Black Mask’s driver, she’s wearing a Bra/crop top that bares her midriff under a short blue blaze, but when she decides she’s going to defy him, she wears a yellow tank top and jeans with a gold belt.

Harley’s costumes are as eclectic as she is, with her DIY caution tape shawl, stamped tops and cut up shorts. Huntress’s outfits are all black leather and punkish athletic wear, utilitarian and elegant in their simplicity while Reene wears a “I shave my balls for this” t-shirt reflecting her uncouth, blunt demeanor, as well as button down dress shirts and slacks for the climactic asskicking montage .

Cass is a kid,who clearly doesn’t have the funds for super nice clothes. She;s running around in ratty shorts and a worn out hoody with a red windbreaker, with an orange bandanna askew on her head. At the end, when she rides off with Harley, she copying Harley’s style.

Speaking of costumes, one thing I appreciate is that instead of the male gaze and sexualisation, we get what I like to call “passive fan service” What I mean is that instead of tracking shots on Harley’s ass or boob shoots, like in Suicide Squad the camera just lets these women’s beauty do the talking.

Huntress is wearing a sports bra and tactical pants for the climax, but the camera doesn’t linger on her boobs. A primary example of this is a lot of Padme’s scenes in Episodes II and III of Star Wars. Lucas knows Natalie Portman is a gorgeous woman and he doesn’t need to remind us by deliberate camera shots. He lets Natalie herself and Trisha Biggar’s excellent costumes do it for us.

Also one thing I really… really liked was how in the big penultimate fight, Harley actually passes Dinah a hair tie so she can get her hair out of the way. So for like a minute, she’s beating the ever loving fuck out of goons with her legs as she ties up her hair. A very nice case of reality ensures.

In conclusion Birds of Prey is another notch in the belt for the DC cinematic universe, a solid, fun film with an excellent cast with clear chemistry, hampered by character derailment that undermines its sorely needed themes and message it's trying to convey. The plot is fast paced, but doesn't feel rushed even though it’s only a little over an hour long. It’s uncompromisingly bold, bloody and hilarious. The lack of a proper post credits scene is somewhat annoying and I'm very disappointed how Cass was handled , but this is by no means a terrible film.

Overall I give it a 8.9 out of 10. Highly recommend you go see it. Drag your friends, smuggle in as much candy and drinks as you can. Buy it when it comes out on DVD. If you’re a Cass fan, reread the Puckett run or pick up her new graphic novel Shadow of the Batgirl to wash out the bittersweet taste this will give you. Speaking of Kelley Puckett, he was actually listed in the “Special thanks to…” in the credits, which i’m sure many will appreciate.

These following posts and thoughts on the film I recommend.

https://dcwomenofcolor.tumblr.com/post/190693985900/how-would-you-fix-bop-cass

https://wits-writing.tumblr.com/post/190718974642/birds-of-prey-movie-review

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0YeFJjoQoec

#birds of prey #cassandra cain #templarhalo rambles #Templarhalo reviews books

15 notes · View notes

ineffablesuffering · 7 years

Text

Many Of Horror |j.l| Chapter 1

So, I put this on wattpad but kinda neglected it, but maybe id be more likely to keep updating on this idk

ANWAY

This is my John Lennon fanfic based on this song here.

@queen-mercury-may

Prompt: Your genius friend created a time machine out of an old iPod. How it works is simple. You play a song and you’re immediately transported to the time and place that song was recorded. With a library of over 10,000 songs. You just accidentally hit “Shuffle.”

“Come on, when have my calculations ever been wrong?” My best friend Kirsty Adams told me.

“Well…”

“Shut up, that was one time!”

“You exploded your car K!” I told her.

“That was one time. This won’t explode on you, I promise.” She said, handing me the iPod.

“How do you know this even works?” I began, “Time travel is impossible!”

“I don’t know if it works. You’re gonna be the one to test it!” She said with a grin on her face. Oh, for the love of God.

“So, I’m your guinea pig?”

“Yes! Exactly.” She said excitedly, bobbing up and down on my desk chair. I rolled my eyes at her.

“What do I get out of this? Other than being transported to god knows where.” I mused.

“Um, to meet John Lennon?” She said hopefully. Damn. That sounded good. I mean of course I was 100% aware of what he was like as a person, but I couldn’t deny his talent or indeed his amazing good looks. I mean, like damn.

“Fine. Fine! I’ll try it.” I said, giving in, “but if this blows up on me, I swear to god!”

“It won’t. I promise you!” She squealed, she paused “Just don’t break it, you might not be able to come back if you do.”

“Oh no. What would I ever do? Stuck in the 60’s with The Beatles. God, I don’t know what I would ever do.” I said sarcastically.

“Just please be careful.” She whispered. I sighed and held her hand. “I’ll be just fine, Kirst.” She stretched over from where she was sitting and hugged me tightly before letting go.

“Right try it, and don’t worry about money everything gets transferred. Also, when you get there, you are dropped outside a house to stay in whilst you are there. Outfit’s also change too, so you don’t look like a sore thumb.”

“Wow. You really thought this through.” I pointed out.

“Aye, obviously. Right, go. I need to see if this works.” I looked down at the iPod in my hands. What if it worked. Oh God. My hands began to shake as I was about to select a song, but they were so shaky that I accidentally pressed shuffle. Fuck.

The next thing I knew I was standing in the middle of the pavement. I looked down at the iPod that still in my hand, it was the most modern thing around here, almost futuristic. I pressed the button in the middle to see where this thing had taken me. ‘And I Love Her’ it read. Oh. Oh! I’m in London - 1964! The weather makes it seem like February, there was a slight nip in the air. I looked down to my new outfit. I was wearing overalls with a white top. I looked a bit like I was in Dexy’s Midnight Runners. I began to think how lucky I was to have shuffle select that song. I could have ended up back in the 1800’s with Beethoven, which would have been an entirely different experience. 1964 wow. This means I could meet John Lennon, and tell him what an inspiration he has been to me and maybe kick him in the balls for being a dick. I glance up and see a young man running towards me. He stopped right in front of me and placed his hands on his knees panting heavily. I look at him for a second, the mop top giving him away. Holy shit. Keep calm Charlotte. I quickly put the iPod in my front pocket. He looked behind him and saw a crowd running towards him. He suddenly grabbed my hand and said,

“Run!” He flew off, dragging me behind him, almost tearing my arm out its socket. We darted around a corner and he pulled me into his chest as the crowd ran by. He took a step back adjusting himself before he spoke. “Sorry about that love,” his accent was so much more predominant than I was familiar with, “can’t go anywhere these days.” He said with a small smile. “What’s your name? I assume you already know who I am.” He said smugly, eye’s shining. I rolled my eyes.

“Very modest of you, Mr McCartney, but you assume well. Charlotte Rigby, but most people just call me, Lottie.” I said stretching my hand out for him to shake, but instead, he brought it to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to my knuckles. My cheeks burned and I had to remind myself that this man was a charmer, and treated women with very little respect, but how many women in my day and age, can say that Paul McCartney kissed their hand? He smiled cheekily at me.

“I like you Lottie,” he said, “Where are you from?”

“Edinburgh”

“What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”

“I have you to thank for that Mr McCartney, you are the one who dragged me into this alley.” Paul laughed. Who knew a laugh could be so attractive?

“Call me Paul, Mr McCartney is my dad.”

“Okay then,” I said “Paul.” He smiled at me before he peaked out around the corner, cautious of being spotted again. “Look, we’ll go back to mine and we’ll find something you can wear to disguise yourself.” I said to him.

“Really?”

“Sure! Why not? You could always use a little help from your friends.” I said, daring to quote some of his later work.

“You are amazing love!”

“Let’s go, keep your head down and take my hand.” I said, taking his hand and quickly walking back down the street we came down from. As we were walking, I realised that Kirsty’s iPod worked. Wait. Kirsty’s iPod! I felt my pockets and it was there. Oh, thank fuck! We kept on walking until we reached what seemed to be my new house. My subconscious told me that there was a key under the welcome mat, I checked and there was. Wow, Kirsty had really thought of everything. I unlocked the door and quickly ushered Paul inside. I looked behind me to make sure no one had seen Paul before I stepped inside, closing the door behind me. “Feel free to make yourself at home.” I smiled, he returned the smile before heading into what I presumed was the living-room. I went up the stairs, gravitating towards the first room on the right. I opened the door and walked in. I took a deep breath. Paul McCartney was in my house. James. Paul. McCartney. Holy mother of God. I had to keep my cool. I walked over to my wardrobe and flicked through. How I loved sixties fashion. I had numerous pairs of jeans, full length and cropped, there was also loads of floral-patterned tops and dresses that weren’t really my 2017 style of dark colours. But for the 60’s: I was willing to make that sacrifice. There was also a long, camel brown trench coat. Suddenly an idea popped into my head. Hairspray. I smirked to myself, grabbing the coat, one of the multiple scarfs and a pair of sunglasses. “Paul?” I shouted

“Yeah?”

“Come up here! I have something for you.” I heard him coming up the stairs before poking his head around the door. “Come in and stand by the bed. Close your eyes.” He did as he was told. I took the coat off its hanger and helped him into it. I slipped the sunglasses onto his face, moving his hair out of the way and tied the scarf around his head. “Ok, I’m going to walk you forward to in front of the mirror okay?” Once in front of the mirror “Okay. Open.” He opened his eyes. “Paul McCartney, meet Paula McCartney.” I laughed. It was simple, but it worked.

“Paula?” He laughed

“Paula.” I confirmed.

“You think this will work?” He asked, taking off the glasses.

“Honey, I know it will work.”

“Well, if you are sure.”

“I am.” I nodded “Where do you need to be anyway?”

“Studio. John’s gonna kill me,” He said going over to the window and glancing out of it, “I really should get going.”

“We can’t have a dead Beatle, now can we?” I almost laughed.

“No, we can’t.” He smiled at me walking to the bedroom door, putting the sunglasses back on. “You coming?”

“What?”

“Are you coming or not? You can’t let lil’ old Paula McCartney walk the streets herself. Plus, John might not kill me with a pretty girl around.” He winked at me and I just laughed. It was hard to take him seriously the way he was dressed, and there was no way I was letting a chance to watch the Beatles in a session!

“Sure, why not,” I said, “Little old Paula could use the help.”

“Gear! Come let’s go.” He said taking my hand and dragging me out the house. I quickly lock the door and placed the key in my front pocket. Paul took my arm and we set off for the Studio

“So how old are you love?”

“I’m 17,” I paused and remembered the date, “It’s actually my birthday soon.”

“Really? Well, we’ll have to do something!” He said excitedly

“No, no it’s not necessary. I’m sure you’re busy with something.”

“Yeah, well that doesn’t matter. We’ll take you out for lunch!”

“Well, only if you’re sure, I don’t want to be intruding.” I said to him sincerely, but on the inside, I was screaming. He wanted to take me out for lunch? Well okay then.

The walk to the studio was nice. We talked about this that and the next thing, and just generally had a nice time. I had to admit, that I did enjoy his company more than I thought I would. As we neared the studio, I began to think that I was going to see Abbey Road, without all the tourists which was another reason I am thankful for that iPod. I asked Paul “Earlier today when you were getting chased, is it like that everywhere you go?”

“Yeah,” he started, “sometimes I miss it being quiet you know?” I smiled softly at him

“I bet you do, though it has to come with some perks you know? Girls screaming your name.”

“I’m already used to that.” He said wiggling his eyebrows, which could just be seen from the top of his glasses, and I gave him a playful slap and giggled. We reached the studio and I was almost blown away by sheer excitement, but I had to keep my wits. It was so surreal, I had the urge to walk across it and get my photo taken, but it was a few years too early for that. We headed through the main doors into a reception area where Paul stripped off his disguise and hung it up on the coat hook.

“You know, I can’t believe that actually worked!” exclaimed Paul, I just laughed.

“Do you really have that little faith in me, Mr McCartney?” I said with fake offence laced throughout my voice.

“Miss Rigby, I have all the faith in the world in you.” He retorted, opening the door to the room where they would be recording, he bowed as I walked by and I turned to courtesy dramatically, pretending to hold out my non-existent skirt.

“Why thankyou kind sir.” I said in an overly posh voice.

“I am most honoured.” He said in the same accent as me. We stopped, looked at each other then we burst out laughing walking into the room together. I wiped my tears of laughter away and took a glance at my surroundings. John was stood in the middle of the room with his arms crossed, George was sat lightly strumming his guitar with a cup of tea sat next to him and Ringo was. Well, he wasn’t there.

“Paul, where the hell have you been?” John said bitterly.

“Fans.” He replied simply, picking up his bass and tuning it.

“And who’s the bird?” John said turning his attention to me

“I think you’ll find Mr Lennon, that I don’t have wings or a beak, so if you could refrain from calling me a bird that would be lovely.” I said. Paul sniggered from behind John and George let out a chuckle from where he was sitting. “Charlotte Rigby, but most people call me Lottie.” I said offering my hand to him. John stood a bit shocked that I had spoken to him like that, but he shook my hand anyway.

“John Lennon.” He muttered

“Oh, I am aware.” I smirked at him before taking a seat next to Paul. A sense of achievement washed over me, I just talked back to John Lennon. Paul smiled at me.

“So, what are we recording today?” I asked innocently, already knowing the answer.

“Oh, just a few bits and bobs. We have a song called ‘And I Love Her.’”

“Oh! I can’t wait to hear it! I can tell I’m going to love it already!” I said enthusiastically. Paul smiled at me again.

“I hope you will.” He replied. The door opened and in walked Ringo, a tray of tea in his hands and a cigarette hanging from his lips. Adorable.

“Here, let me take that.” I sprung to my feet, taking the tray out of his hands.

“Look, the birds taller than you Ritchie!” John’s voice rang throughout the studio.

“Shut it Lennon.” I snapped. George sniggered and Paul burst into a guffaw. I turned my attention back to a very shocked Ringo. I balanced the tray in one hand, offering him my other “Charlotte Rigby, but most people call me Lottie.” Ringo shook my hand

“Richard Starkey, but everyone calls me Ringo.”

“The pleasure is all mine.” I smiled, it really was all mine. I sat the tray down on a small table to the left of me. The room fell silent, though I knew I was the reason why. I knew that prior to this point, the studio was a man’s environment, there was no sign of Yoko just yet and I couldn’t change that. No, I couldn’t change that. That was history, that was one of the reasons for the end and right now, was only the beginning. I couldn’t interfere with that. I had to be careful whilst I was here. There were so many things that I could accidentally change. I let out a small cough. “Well, I guess I should be leaving then,” I said sadly. I really wanted to see them record but I couldn’t change history. “It was nice meeting you all.”

“Do you really have to go?” Paul wined, standing up coming over to me.

“Yes, she does.” John added, rather harshly.

“Oi, no need to be mean John.” George said, it was the first time I had heard him speak today. I loved his voice, it was so calming.

“It’s fine George, this is a man’s world after all,” I said flashing him a tight smile, before turning my attention back to Paul. “Plus, I don’t want to interfere.” Paul smiled sadly, nodding his head.

“I understand.”

“It was lovely to meet you though.” I said to him.

“And you. Thank you for helping me.”

“Not a problem.” I told him making my way out of the door. “Bye Ringo, Bye George, Bye Paul,” I said addressing each of them. “John.”

I left the studio with my hands in my pockets. Once I was in the safe proximity of the outside world, I let out a shaky sigh before hopping down the stairs. The experience was surreal. I met John and George. They were alive. I started making my way along the streets of London where I came from. Reaching my new house, I unlocked the door and stepped inside. I couldn’t believe the iPod fucking worked. I started chuckling to myself and soon, I was almost on the floor because I was laughing so hard. It actually worked, and now I was going delirious. I collapsed to the floor in my laughing fit, tears streaming down my face. Who knew how long I was sitting there.

Once I had calmed down I thought it might be best to check out the house that I was living in. I looked up to be greeted with the sight that I noticed when I entered the house for the first time. The carpet was a light caramel, plain and simple and continued up the stairs to where the bedroom was. There was a door right in front of me, and to my left an open door which made me believe that that was the living room. I went to the closed door first. Pulling it open I was greeted with a bathroom. Nice, I thought to myself, that might come in handy. I laughed at my own joke. I walked into the living room. The carpet was all weirdly designed in all these different colours and shapes. The walls were white and had a yellow accent wall. There was a glass door which led into the Kitchen. I headed back up the stairs and opened the other doors. A spare bedroom, an extra bathroom and storage.

I headed back to my new room to study it further. Apart from the wardrobe and mirror that I had already seen, there was a Vanity table underneath the window which faced the streets. Beside that was a record player on top of a set of cupboards. I knelt and opened the cupboards and gasped. In front of me was pile upon pile of records, from Johnny Cash to Vera Lynn, from Little Richard to Frank Sinatra and everything in between. There was a feeling of disappointment in me as there was no Led Zeppelin or Pink Floyd but still, I squealed and grabbed ‘I’ve Got You Under My Skin.’ I gently took it out of its sleeve and placed the record onto the turntable before dropping the needle. After a crackle, the smooth Jazz voice of Frank Sinatra flowed out of the system, and into the air around me. I stood up and started swaying to the music that was being produced. I twirled just as the doorbell rang. I quickly stopped and turned off the music. No one knew where I lived. No one but…. Paul! I quickly bounded down the stairs and opened the door to indeed Paul who was standing holding my scarf, jacket and sunglasses that I had completely forgotten about.

“Hello Paul! Please come in.” I smiled stepping aside to let him in.

“Thanks.” He grinned. He came inside, we made our way into the living room after I shut the door. “Oh, here.” He said offering my clothing to me. I said my thanks and took them off him and placed them neatly on the arm of the chair.

“Tea?” I asked

“That would be lovely.”

I opened the kitchen door and beelined for the kettle, I took off the lid before filling it with water and setting it down before flicking the switch. There was a silence between us no one knowing exactly what to say.

“So,” Paul coughed “I want to apologise on behalf of John for his behaviour.” He walked in and leaned up against the worktop

“It’s okay,” I smiled, opening a cupboard and praying to find mugs. I did. “I know people like that, I can handle it.”

“It seemed like it!” He chuckled. “He was silent for the rest of the day! I haven’t seen anyone speak to him like that.”

“Milk? Sugar?” I asked putting a tea bag in each mug, filling it up with the hot water, a smug smile on my face.

“Please.” I took out the tea bag and added milk and sugar “You know, you’re different Lottie.”

“Really? How so?” I said handing him his mug.

“Thanks,” he took a sip “I don’t know, you just seem more how do I put it?”

“More?”

“More independent, more capable.”

“In what sense?” I asked confused. The Beatle took another sip of his tea.

“You don’t need anyone to stick up for you, you handled it pretty well.”

“Thanks. I need to know how to where I’m from.” I said choosing my words carefully. One slip of the tongue and it’s out there. Paul only took a sip from his tea.

“So, how did today go?”

“Great thanks! We got the song recorded, and started on a few other things.” Paul’s eyes twinkled when he talked about music, it was so nice to see how passionate he was about it. “I’m sorry you couldn’t stay.”

“It’s fine.” I sipped my rea. There was another silence. “Oh shit, I left a record on my turntable!” I remembered.

“What record?”

“Frank Sinatra.”

“Oh gear! Mind if I come check it out?”

I shrugged “If you want to.” We sat down our mugs and made our way upstairs to my room Paul clocked the open cupboard and instantly made his way over to it flicking through each individual record, examining it with care. I on the other hand just sat on the bed watching him do so. Paul stood up and replaced the needle to the start of the Frank Sinatra record that I had been playing and before long the sultry sound of I’ve Got You Under My Skin come back on. Paul walked over to where I was sitting and offered his hand. I smiled at him and took it. He took me to the middle of the room and pulled me close to him, I flushed at the contact. He held one of my hands in his and had it pressed on his shoulder, whilst his other hand snuck around my waist. I placed my free hand on his arm. Funnily, I had just noticed that we were the same hight so I could look him directly in the eyes as we danced. We swayed and almost waltzed around my bedroom, Paul twirling me every so often. I laughed and so did he. We played record after record just dancing, neither of us noticing the time or the sky getting gradually darker. We collapsed on my bed slightly out of breath, we looked at each other and just laughed. I could see each other becoming close friends, but I didn’t know how long I was going to be here for. A slight frown appeared on my face and Paul was quick to notice.

“What’s wrong?” he asked

“It’s nothing,” I sighed moving a stray bit of hair from my forehead. “It’s just,” I paused trying to think of the words to say “Will we ever get to meet again? I had a great time today and I don’t want this new-found friendship to go down the drain you know?”

“I know what you mean. I hope that we can meet up again. Maybe I could stop by after I finish up at the studio tomorrow?” He said, sitting up. I sat up too.

“I’d like that,” I smiled “I’ll be sure to have the kettle on.”

Paul laughed, “I look forward to it.”

“You’d best be going then.” I said glancing at the clock, almost 11.

“Yeah, I guess I should.” He sighed standing up. We walked down the stairs and I opened the door for him.

“Tell the boys I said hello.”

“I will do, I’ll see you tomorrow Miss Lottie.” He said pressing another kiss to my hand.

“See you tomorrow Paul.”

#the beatles fan fic #the beatles #john lennon fan fic #john lennon #paul mccartney #ringo starr #george harrison

2 notes · View notes