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maureensmistress · 7 months

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After Midnight - Maureen Starkey x Reader

It's been a few weeks since you and Maureen shared a fleeting, secret kiss in the back of a cab, and since then you've kept each other at arm's length. But tonight, after Mo and Richie have been fighting, you hear a tap at your door....

Angst, guilt, cheating tw, longing, forbidden love, kissing, slightly nsfw, part of my MaureenxSister-in-law!Reader series

Word Count: 1.4k

The house was quiet, and you thought Mo and Richie might finally be done fighting. It was well after midnight – your brother hadn’t even gotten home until around twelve – and you tossed and turned, resettling yourself in bed, hoping you might finally get some sleep.

You’d always hated the sound of fighting. When you were little and your parents’ blowout fights kept you up at night you used to crawl in bed with Richie. He was always kind, always patient, always let you sleep next to him where you knew you were safe. Nothing bad could happen to you with him around.

He’d been there for you again when your parents threw you out six months ago, letting you come stay with him and his wife, Maureen. You hadn’t talked about why your parents kicked you out – it wasn’t the sort of thing you said out loud. But he made it clear that he didn’t care just by being there and taking care of you the same way he always had.

That’s what made it so awful what you’d done next.

It was weeks ago, now, and you and Maureen were pretending it had never happened. Richie had even noticed that you were a little more distant with each other, had seemed puzzled by it, but thankfully hadn’t tried to bring it up. Your relationship wasn’t one where you talked about things like that – wasn’t one where you talked about anything important at all. Richie loved you and looked after you without really knowing you, and that was best for both of you, you were sure of it. You supposed you didn’t really know him either. At least, it was starting to feel that way.

Because the person who came home late and drunk and yelled at Maureen and made her cry was not the same boy whose bed you crawled into when your parents scared you. This person was something scary by himself.

You put that out of your mind, reminding yourself that it was none of your business. Maureen and Richie’s relationship had nothing to do with you. Maureen had nothing to do with you. It was important that you remember that.

Even if you could still feel her soft lips on your skin, could still feel the way heat rushed to your face as you drank her in, drew her into yourself and melted into her at the same time so that you were one being coursing with electricity and wrapped in the blanket of the night. In your memory the two of you sparked and glowed in the dark, illuminating the back of the cab, and her bright skin was as pale and soft as a lily.

You flipped the pillow over, sighing. As if you’d get any sleep tonight. You needed something bland and boring to think about to drive these awful thoughts out of your mind, even as they made you shiver under the blanket. That's when you heard a light tapping at the door.

At first you thought maybe you imagined it, it was so light. But then you heard it again, and with it a soft, slightly choked voice whispering, “Ginny? Are you awake?”

Maureen. You swallowed hard. You really ought to pretend to be asleep, to pull the covers over your head and ignore her. Nothing good would come from letting Maureen into your room after midnight. But, almost against your will, you slipped out of bed and to the door.

It creaked just a little as you opened it, and there was Maureen, her eyeliner smeared from crying.

“Mo,” you whispered tenderly, and then stopped yourself. This was none of your business.

But Mo looked so upset, so frightened, and it reminded you so much of the scared little girl you used to be, and so you did what Richie would have done and moved aside to let Maureen into your room.

“Are you okay?” you asked softly.

Maureen sat on your bed, running her fingers through her hair and not looking at you. “I’m alright,” she said, but you could hear the tears in her voice. “He just—” she bit her lip, her voice catching.

You moved to sit beside her, feeling the way the line of the mattress dipped towards her. She was looking out the window over the head of your bed, studying how the smoky clouds enveloped the pale moon. Her long hair was like ink under the moonlight, dark and shimmering, and her skin almost did seem to glow just like it did in your memory.

Despite everything, despite what you should have been feeling, you wanted to feel her skin again so desperately. Your fingers twitched and you could almost feel the shadow of what it would be like to run them through her hair. What a terrible thing to want, and what a beautiful thing it would be.

“I’m sorry,” you said. You didn’t know what else to say. You could hardly argue with her, try to convince her she was wrong, when you’d heard everything.

“He didn’t used to be this way.” Maureen turned from the window then, and you saw tears in her eyes as bright as diamonds. It was awful, but it made her even more beautiful.

Without letting yourself rethink it, you stretched out your arms and Maureen moved into you, allowed you to wrap yourself around her like a blanket. She tucked her face into your shoulder, and you felt wet tears on your skin. You hugged her tighter, shushing her gently. She clung to you with both hands, holding you close as if she was afraid you would go away. “It’s okay,” you murmured, even if nothing about this moment was anything like okay, even if what you knew you were about to do was the furthest thing from “okay” that had ever existed.

Maureen pulled back a little and looked you in the eyes, really looked at you like she was trying to see straight through you to the other side, her eyes black like the ocean at night but as hot as a burning ember. They seemed to burn into you, through you, heat finding the most intimate corners of your heart. And then her lips crashed into yours and your eyes fell shut and her hands were on your face and your fingers found the back of her head and it really was such a beautiful, terrible thing.

This kiss was much more intense than the last one, nothing tentative or nervous about it. You wondered for a moment if this was the reason Maureen had come to your room in the first place, and then her tongue slipped between your lips and you couldn’t think at all. Her hands were traveling from your face down to your bare shoulders, thumbs rubbing gently, finding your collarbone and tracing over it in such an enticing way. It was like she was trying to cover every inch of your skin with goosebumps, and she was succeeding.

You couldn’t believe how soft her hair was, slipping through your fingers like silk. She pulled back slightly to suck at your lower lip, and you followed her, addicted to the taste of her lips. The whole world was her touch, her smell, her taste, her burning heat coursing through your entire body. This was more than electricity, this was like wildfire spreading over your skin, spreading over both of you, filling you with a wildness you’d never felt before. It terrified you and yet you followed it helplessly, unable to resist something so powerful and so beautiful even if it was awful at the same time. It didn’t even feel real.

When Maureen finally pulled away, your lips parting from hers, you could feel yourself blushing so hard it almost hurt. She tucked a strand of inky hair behind her ear, looking shy and embarrassed. You were afraid for a second that she would run away, but then she smiled a tiny, embarrassed smile, almost as if she didn’t mean to but her lips curved anyways, and something relaxed in your chest. The two of you may have done wrong, but you were in this together.

“What are we going to do?” you asked softly. Because you knew now that these feelings would not go back into the drawer.

“I don’t know,” Maureen whispered. "But I don't want to pretend anymore."

#the beatles #beatles girls #beatles girls x reader #beatles fic #lesbian #maureen starkey #maureen starkey x reader #wlw

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longforyesterday · 4 years

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A few days later, the four Beatles, plus George Martin and, of course, Yoko, were in the control room listening to a playback of a backing track when John offhandedly asked her what she thought of it. To everyone’s amazement, she actually offered a criticism. “Well, it’s pretty good,” she said in a tiny little voice, “but I think it should be played a bit faster.” You could have heard a pin drop. There was a look of shock and horror on everyone’s face—even John’s. Everyone looked at John, but he said nothing. Infatuated as he might have been with Yoko, he must have realized that to leap to her defense would only add fuel to the fire. After a slight pause, they returned to their conversation, ignoring Yoko and what she had said. But the damage had been done, and things would never be the same again. Beyond the intrusion on their space, it was especially demeaning to George Martin, and to Paul, who was, after all John’s longtime songwriting partner. Paul always had difficulty dealing with criticism, but he had such great respect for John’s abilities that he would take it from him. He could even accept the occasional comment from Harrison or Ringo, but he certainly wasn’t prepared to be told what to do by John’s girlfriend, any more than he would have countenanced musical direction from Patti Harrison or Maureen Starkey. That first day when Yoko spoke up and offered a musical opinion was a turning point for the Beatles. It was like John’s final act of asserting himself. In many ways, it was the beginning of the end.

Geoff Emerick, Here, There and Everywhere: My Life Recording the Music of The Beatles

#yoko ono #john lennon #the beatles #the white album #geoff emerick

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harristarrkey-blog · 5 years

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Evermore: Chapter One

Summary: Some believed the town was cursed, as it was the only place where winter was always present, others believed in the presence of a beast, lurking away in the forest and stealing children from their parents and killing farm animals. Ritchie didn’t particularly believe in any of those stories, but as a lot of people, he felt uneasy to enter the forest.

Pairings: George Harrison/Ringo Starr, John Lennon/Paul Mccartney

Also on AO3 by SpaceRavioli

The day was cloudy and windy, with no sign of the sun to be seen. The water was freezing cold and exuded a strong, salty scent that blended in with the smell of fishes’ guts and ashes from the town. The cacophony of fishermen grunting was his background music, and he joined while lifting a bucket full of fishes to the shore, where the sand was raspy and full of garbage.

It was all in all, a normal working day.

Ritchie’s joints screamed and his lungs burned, but he didn’t stop walking until he was in the store. He was ready to finally end this day and to finally return home to his parents and rest until next morning and repeat everything again.

Once inside the store, he dropped the bucket in the backroom and closed the door. He hated the way the fish felt through his worn-out gloves, but he despised the way the fish guts smelled, so he left them all for Bobby Thompson to mutilate.

“Leaving already? But you are gonna miss the best part!” Bobby said, already surrounded by a gory fest. Ritchie wrinkled his nose, clearly disgusted even after years of working there.

“I’d rather just leave now” He responded, taking his gloves off and putting them in a bucket full of sea water. He then continued stripping his work clothes and changed into his normal ones, just a simple long-sleeved shirt, some baggy pants, a coat that belonged to his father and his age-worn boots. “But you can ask me again tomorrow, maybe I’ll change my mind over night. “

“Hope you do” Bobby sliced open a fish almost joyfully. “See you later, Ritch”

“See you”

Ritchie left the store and started walking down town whistling. All his limbs felt tired and wanted nothing more than a good night rest, but he didn’t want to return home just yet. He enjoyed walking through town, looking into the nice little shops and meeting new people. Besides, he hadn’t seen his friends since ages ago and was dying of knowing what was happening with their lives.

“Oh, Ritchie, again so soon?” Maureen casted him a quick glance and smiled. She was fixing some gentlemen’s hair with fast, talented hands, with her own hair in a nice, tight bun and dressed in a long, pink dress and a black apron.

She looked beautiful.

“I don’t know what you are talking about, Mo.” Ritchie stood awkwardly under the door and shrugged. “It’s been a while now”

“You were here yesterday, silly”

“I certainly do not remember”

Maureen sighed and returned her attention at her client, smiling. She lifted a big mirror behind his head and asked what the guy thought of his hair. When he seemed satisfied with everything, he paid and left. Ritchie just watched everything unfold in silent, curiously probing at the tools.

“It must be the age” Maureen joked once they were left alone. Ritchie let go of a pair of scissors when she glared at him. “What are you really doing here?”

“Nothing, just the usual”

“You mean, annoying me?”

“No, I meant the just passing by part”

“Ritchie” She said sternly, and Ritchie just froze in place, comb in hand. With a frown, he avoided her worried eyes and pointed at the tools with the comb.

“You know, I still think you should teach me one day”

“Yeah right, because I need another reason for your fiancée to hate me”

Ritchie winced immediately.

“I’m sorry, Ritchie.” Maureen spoke softly, like she was talking to a kid and he hated that kind of baby talk, well knowing what she was gonna say. Still, he let her finish. “But we have to stop pretending she doesn’t exist every time you walk through that door.”

And he knew she was right, but he still asked in a small voice and grabbed a couple of scissors: “Not even a little bit?” But he already knew the answer.

You see, Richard Starkey was going to marry Bethany Shaw next month. The marriage was arranged between the two families in hope of survival, and so the date was unmovable and their fate unavoidable. Bethany Shaw was Ringo’s age, but appeared younger with her beautiful, long, golden hair and a chubby face that looked like it didn’t belong in her minuscule body. She was tiny, but her presence was not. She carried the confidence that Ritchie lacked and talked like everything she said was right, and still, nothing she had said made Ritchie love her.

But who loved someone that they barely knew, and was supposed to marry in two weeks?

“Ritch…” Maureen warned, but Ritchie ignored her in favour of playing around with the scissors. Because he didn’t love Bethany Shaw and wasn’t even sure he liked her enough to tolerate a lifespan with her for the rest of his surely short life, but he did like other things. His dream was to be a stylist, like Maureen was, but he also enjoyed things like spending time with her, painting, dancing and hearing the music at Pete’s bar and for now, that was enough. Things that helped him pretend that he wasn’t going to marry some girl he didn’t like soon.

“Are you going to come with us next weekend?” Ritchie changed the conversation, not wanting to follow that thought anymore.

“Oh, I don’t know, Ritchie. Not sure how it will look that just one lady is hanging with all of you guys”

“I can tell Rory to invite his wife, if that’s the only thing you are worried about” But he knew that wasn’t the only thing she was worried about. She surely was worried about a lot of other things, like Bethany, but Ritchie couldn’t care less.

“But--“

“It’s probably going to be the last time before I marry” He blurted before she could refuse him again. His eyes looked for her gaze, and when they found it, he smiled a little. “Please, Mo. For me?”

He saw the way her lips trembled a little, and his stomach felt empty. He never liked when she felt sad, and lately it looked like it was the only thing he could make her feel. He wanted to hold her hand and tell her everything was going to be alright, but that was lying, and he hated lying to someone he loved.

So, he settled for just waiting.

“I—I—” She stuttered, but after long, painful minutes, she sighed. “I’m gonna ask Isaac”

“Maybe he can come. The more, the merrier” Ritchie smiled and pushed her shoulder gently with his own.

“I’ll ask, I’ll ask.” She finally smiled again and pushed him back. “Just don’t get to excited yet, okay?”

“Oh, I promised I won’t” Ritchie crossed his heart and Mo laughed a little. “There’s just one last thing I need to do.”

“What is it?”

“I’ll ask everyone else about it” He said, fleeing from the store before she could process the words.

“Oh my— what?! Richard!”

The bar Ritchie hang around all the time wasn’t his favourite, but it was the one Rory worked in.

The bar in question was the biggest one in town, with shows every night and a lot of people around it. It also served food, which was a big plus, but that didn’t take the owner’s personality away. Mona Best was a well-known character between all the townsfolks, with her ostentatious way of being and management of the place. In Richie’s point of view, she was one of those mothers that never let her chicks fly away. And just a quick look to Pete Best, one of her chicks trying to handle his waiter work, confirmed his beliefs.

He shook his boots before coming in, Mona would bite his head off. The bar was crowded, since a lot of workers had finished working like Ritchie. He swam in the sea of people before making his way to a lonely stool at the bar and sat before anyone else could take his place. It wasn’t long before he was attended.

“Ah, Ritchie, s—still don’t know how t—to cook?” The barman joked. Richie just snorted.

Rory was a tall lad, with blond hair and a charming smile, but the clothes he wore at work didn’t favour him and sometimes he would stutter, specially when he was nervous. Still, the ladies didn’t seem to care about all of that since he was being asked out all the time. He was handsome, and charismatic and Ritchie could see that. And agreed.

“Why? I already decided that you will be doing all my meals”

“Ah, e—even when you are getting ma—married?”

“It’s fine, we’ll find you a place. Do you mind the floor?”

Rory laughed, laying on the bar.

“What can I—I offer you t—today?”

“The usual, please”

Rory winked at him and disappeared behind the kitchen. Ritchie took advantage of this time to look around the bar, the sound almost overwhelming without anyone to drown it. His eyes fixed on a guy comforting a woman in the corner of the bar, but Ritchie could barely hear the words they were saying.

“Fish and ch—chips for the good sir” Ritchie jumped a little on his seat. “Anything else?”

“Eh, yeah” He looked down at his plate and then at Rory. “What is going on there?”

Rory followed his thumb to the scene before, and his face sobered up. He bended a little, just enough to be within Richie’s hearing and Ritchie’s only.

“They were mugged, just this morning. “

“Oh”

“Yeah, around the forest. They were blabbering about some beast following them before they collided with the wrong people, asking for help.”

“A beast?”

“Yeah, remember?” Rory’s voice was just a whisper now. “The legend about a beast living in the forest. I don’t believe it though, I think they were just scared of wolves or something.”

“Or a bear…”

“Yeah. Anyway, they are waiting for his son to come and help them return home.”

“Poor people, what an awful thing to happen.” Ritchie gulped, thinking what he would do in a situation like that. But how could he know? That was just bad, bad luck.

“Yeah” Rory sighed, clear pity in his eyes. “Anyway, I got—tta attend some other clients before Mona notices me just hanging here. If you need anything else, you call”

Ritchie nodded and looked at the poor couple one last time before starting eating. Later, he would ask Rory about meeting up in the weekend.

When Ritchie returned home, he was expecting to take off his clothes and disappear within his sheets, succumbing in a well-deserved sleep.

But he was wrong.

“You finished packing?” Her mother, Elsie, asked from the kitchen the moment he crossed the threshold. Ringo froze in place and winced, because of course he had forgotten about packing, or the trip altogether.

Tomorrow he had to travel with his fiancée, Bethany, first hour at dawn to find some stupid wedding dress because she didn’t like any from the shops in town. And of course, there was, supposedly, the best tailor in the next town over. Ritchie didn’t even remember his name.

“Uh, something like that” He answered, taking off his coat and boots in a lazy manner. He could hear his mother’s sigh from all the way to the kitchen.

“You had been planning this for days”

“You mean she has been planning this for days…”

He hung up his coat, hearing his mother’s steps from the kitchen to where he was. And finally lifted his gaze from the hanger to his mother when she was standing next to him.

“I know you don’t want to go” She started, searching his gaze. Ritchie preferred to watch her grip on a wooden spoon, though. “But it’s something you gotta do, baby”

Ritchie pouted. He didn’t want to go, as he didn’t want to marry Bethany, but knew his mother was right. If he weren’t to go, then Bethany would never forgive him, and it would be a worse start to their premature relationship. So, he sighed and nodded weakly to his mother.

“I understand, mum.” He whispered against her skin when she hugged him comfortably. When she let him go, and smiled at him, he felt a little bit better. Ritchie remembered that everyone was making sacrifices around him, not just him, because sacrifices were meant to happen if they wanted to live.

Even though now his mother was with someone she truly loved, at first she married his dad, a guy she didn’t loved. Just like Ritchie, she was arranged with someone they could afford to marry, And now she was trying everything she could to assure a future for his son. And, if Ritchie was lucky enough, maybe later in life he would be able to find someone he truly loved like his mum.

“I hope we arrive before sunset, I don’t want to go through the hassle of finding everything closed”

Ritchie sighed while lifting the last suitcase in the carriage, wondering why on earth they needed so much luggage since they were supposed to stay only three days at most. Bethany was already on the carriage, covered from head to toe with every coat she owned to prevent the cold. Ritchie, on his part, was only wearing his father’s coat, two pair of long-sleeved shirts and some old scarf he found in the closet.

“Winter came earlier this year, huh.” She whispered, almost naively. Everyone knew that in that part of England, winter seemed almost eternal. Ritchie himself didn’t remember a warm day since he arrived there with his mother.

When everything was ready to go, he hopped on after giving his horse, Tiger, a few pats on his powerful neck. “The sooner we leave, the sooner we will arrive”

Even though dawn was just starting, the town was already giving signs of life. The baker had his window opened just a crack, letting the smell of fresh bread bled through it; Mona Best was sweeping the front yard, cleaning everything the drunkards that had just stumbled home left behind; fishermen were already leaving home, preparing themselves for another day on wild and freezing waters. Ritchie was usually one of them, but today he had a free day.

More or less.

At least, for now, Bethany wasn’t in the mood to run her mouth. She preferred to lay down as far as she could in her seat and close her eyes a little bit, squeezing in some sleep before the sun was completely out. Ringo envied her a little, he too wanted to rest but someone had to take care of the road, especially in the forest.

Not a lot of townsfolk leave town, and Ritchie was one of them. He was more of exploring open waters, not the surrounding trees, but he did if he had to. Contrary of that, everyone was always a little nervous to get beyond the road in the forest, where it was always snowing for some reason, even in summer. Some believed the town was cursed, as it was the only place where winter was always present, others believed in the presence of a beast, lurking away in the forest and stealing children from their parents and killing farm animals. Ritchie didn’t particularly believe in any of those stories, but as a lot of people, he felt uneasy to enter the forest.

As they entered, leaving the dim lights of the houses behind, everything became more difficult to see, with the sun slowly coming out behind the horizon but quickly hiding behind the clouds. There was only one road to follow, as one could easily get lost in the forest, but with the snow covering every bit of soil available, it was hard to keep track of where they were going. And the deeper they went, the feeling of nervousness augmented.

Were they really following the right track?

The wheels of the carriage were squeaking with effort with every step Tiger gave, the snow under them crunching noisily. Beside him, Bethany was sleeping, hugging her own arms while her head dangled in front on her. Richie almost desired for her to be awake, since he was getting nervous.

What if they were getting lost?

“Nonsense” He whispered, face hidden behind the scarf. Still, small puffs of air escaped through the clothing. “We are still following the path, it’s below us. You just can’t see it well because of the weather.”

Ritchie looked far ahead, and he could see patches of road. But the path stretched on forever, or so it appeared like that, and it was getting on Ritchie’s nerves.

“I’m just tired, that’s all. Yesterday was a very tiring day and you haven’t recovered completely from that” He started chanting, breaking the silence surrounding him. “Think of the yummy food you will eat once you get there.”

But that just made his stomach growl. Maybe it had been a while since they left town.

“Are you hungry?”

“God!” He jumped, not expecting Bethany to be awake. She looked startled, but only laughed a little.

“Sorry, you woke me up with all the talking.” She said, not sounding sorry at all. Reaching behind her, she grabbed a basket full of homemade food they had prepared for the trip. It wasn’t much, but enough to not die of starvation until they reach the town. From the basket she put out two pieces of bread with cheese and extended one to Richie. “This is yours. Without onion, right?”

Ritchie nodded, surprised she remembered he was allergic to onions. Grabbing the leash with one hand, he grabbed the bread with the other and thanked Bethany before he started eating his lunch.

“Do you know how much longer it will take to arrive?” She asked through mouthfuls of food, picking the crumbs that fell to her dress with her index finger. Ritchie looked at the sky, still cloudy, and then the road, still full of snow.

“Not much, I hope. But we may take longer than necessary because of the snow.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. Plus, we need to give Tiger some time to rest, water and some food.”

“Oh”

She sounded disappointed, so Ritchie tried to cheer her up.

“Still, we will be there before sunset, and then we can rest and tomorrow we will look for your wedding dress.” Ritchie smiled at her. “I promise”

She smiled too, and after swallowing a mouthful of bread, she spoke livelier. “I will look for the dress. You can do whatever you want”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, silly Ritchie!” Her laughed filled the void in the forest, echoing through the leaves. “You can’t see the dress before the wedding”

“Why not?”

“That’s just bad luck!”

“Bad luck? I don’t believe in bad luck!” Ritchie exclaimed, his voice reaching the deepest parts of the forest. With another bite to his lunch, he felt better, more joyful. And Bethany laughed beside him, because maybe not everything was gonna be awful forever. Both needed this, Ritchie thought, they just needed to know each other a little bit better. Maybe he really didn’t have bad luck, maybe it wasn’t going to suck.

But he was proved wrong, when an arrow flew next to his head to the tree in front of them.

“OH MY GOD!” Bethany screamed, flailing her arms wildly. Ritchie let go of his sandwich, not having much time to think what to do, and grabbed Tiger’s strap and hit the horse with it, urging to go faster.

That’s what happens when you scream in a fucking haunted forest, Ritchie vaguely thought, as another arrow flew, hitting one of the carriage’s walls.

Their whistling sounds would be forever in his mind.

“Can’t we go faster?!” Bethany cried, her eyes full of panic and tears, and honestly? Ritchie was just as panicked as her. He vaguely remembered the couple from yesterday, feeling so stupid for going out when he knew there were muggers running around the forest.

He pushed her head down, trying to protect her from the flying missiles and the chaos everywhere. He couldn’t see past the snow, and his ears were filled with shouting and Bethany’s cries, but he still knew enough that they were getting surrounded by them. His lungs started to burn, cold air filling his lungs in an uneven way, his eyes watered, and he almost didn’t feel the arrow piercing his right ar—wait.

“FUCK!” He screamed, letting go of Bethany to grab his wounded arm. Warm liquid escaped through his fingertips quickly and Ritchie panicked, not knowing what to do.

Tiger gave a sharp turn, grunting and panting loudly, and Ritchie fell, his fingertips just grazing Bethany’s arm.

“Ritchie!” She screamed. Ritchie lifted his arm, begging for her to stop Tiger and to return for him.

But she never did.

Quickly gazing back and forth, Bethany grabbed Tiger’s leash and urged him to go faster, rapidly disappearing between the trees and the snow.

He couldn’t believe it.

“Come on!” Ritchie heard someone shout over the white noise in his head, but when he turned to face the muggers a white, shimmering light emerged from the snow, blinding everyone in its wake. He couldn’t see anything, but only hear the surprised screams of the robbers and the grunts from the horses. Ritchie stumbled, covering his eyes.

“It’s the beast! Everyone run!” Was the last yell Ritchie heard before falling backwards and hitting his head with a tree.

#the beatles #george harrison #ringo starr #john lennon #paul mccartney #fan fic #my writing stuff #evermore #e: chapter one #starrison #english #mclennon #altern universe #beauty and the beast au #multichapter

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idasessions · 6 years

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Famous Muses & Groupies in Rock Music Pt. 34

MUSE: Pattie Boyd (full name Patricia Anne Boyd)

Pattie truly needs no introduction, but here’s one anyway, lol. Pattie was born on March 17th, 1944 in Somerset, England. Like a lot of girls born on St. Patrick’s Day, she was given the name Patricia as a reference. She was the first born child of Colin and Diana Boyd, and has three younger siblings: Colin Jr., Jenny and Paula. Later after Colin and Diana divorced, Diana re-married and Pattie gained four more half-siblings. Both Jenny and Paula are former models and music muses like their big sister. From 1948-53, the Boyd family lived in Nairobi, Kenya while Colin was discharged from the Royal Air Force. Pattie and her siblings were primarily educated at private schools after the family moved back to England, with Pattie working as a shampoo girl at a salon after graduation. It was there that a client who worked for Honey Magazine convinced Pattie to give modeling a try. Soon the young blonde girl was being hired for advertisements, TV commercials, fashion spreads, runways/catwalks and magazine covers by 1963. She was a favorite of photographer David Bailey and a muse to designer Ossie Clark. Even film director Richard Lester was somewhat inspired by Pattie after he worked with her on a snack commercial and then gave her a minor role in his film A Hard Day’s Night (1964). She also supplied a cameo in Lester’s follow-up zany comedy The Knack…and How to Get It (1965).

Not only is Pattie considered one of the original supermodels of the 1960s next to Jean Shrimpton and Twiggy, but she is also the quintessential music muse in classic rock. During the filming of A Hard Day’s Night, Pattie’s co-star, George Harrison of the Beatles, asked her out. Her popularity then soared even higher as the girlfriend of the most famous guitarist of the British Invasion. George and Pattie were THE power couple of rock music scene in the ‘60s, and lived the high life of Swinging London. The love birds eventually married on January 21st, 1966, and spent most of their relationship living on the properties Kinfauns in Surrey and later Friar Park in Oxfordshire. On the exterior, Pattie had it all: more photoshoot and ad offers than ever, four Vogue Magazine covers in 1969, an attractive, charming rockstar husband, and friendships with fellow muses and stars like Marianne Faithfull and Jane Asher. Pattie and Jenny even ran their own fashion boutique in 1968 called Juniper in Chelsea Market, after the song ‘Jennifer Juniper,’ Donovan wrote for Jenny. Like most musician wives/girlfriends, Pattie was at many of the band’s events and shows. She, along with Cynthia Lennon and Maureen Starkey, traveled with the Beatles on location for the production of Help! (1965), the band’s second film with Lester. She was also at the live 1967 TV taping of ‘All You Need Is Love;’ appeared in the music videos for ‘A Day in the Life’ (1967) and ‘Something’ (1969); was at the movie premiere of Yellow Submarine (1968); modeled for Apple Boutique—owned by the band in ’67-68; visited Rishikesh, India with the band on their spring 1968 spiritual retreat, and so on.

But on the interior, George & Pattie had almost as many problems as they did perks. Only a couple years into their marriage, Pattie discovered she was infertile. In her 2007 memoir Wonderful Tonight, Pattie says that George wanted to start a family eventually and didn’t want to adopt. He also told her she should quit modeling when they got engaged, but she was still interested in her career. A year into dating, the two had an unfortunate experience where they drank spiked tea with LSD at a party, and the final year of their relationship George was a cokehead. Though both were interested in learning about Indian culture at first, George became obsessed with playing sitar and practicing Hinduism to the point of it effecting their sex life. And of course, George and his bandmates still had groupies on tours and in the studio, which Pattie couldn’t accompany him on because of her fashion jobs. George later had a quick affair with model Charlotte Martin in 1968 while Charlotte was spending the week in their house. In 1973, George & Pattie participated in a wife-swap with Ronnie & Krissy Wood, with George and Krissy going on vacation together, and Ronnie and Pattie staying behind at Friar Park. The final straw, as Pattie considers, was George sleeping with bandmate Ringo Starr’s wife Maureen in 1974. The Harrisons officially divorced in June 1977.

But the biggest instigator and infamous blow to the Harrison marriage was George’s ‘best friend’ Eric Clapton. A guitar god on stage and in the studio, but kinda a douche at home. In 1968, Eric grew strongly attracted to Pattie, to the point that he dumped live-in girlfriend Charlotte Martin because he couldn’t stop thinking about Pattie. In Wonderful Tonight, Pattie suggests the main reason Charlotte slept with George was out of spite from the break-up. Naturally Pattie denied Eric in 1969 when he first declared his love (though in Eric’s own 2007 memoir, Clapton, he claims they’d already made out at this point). Rather than move on, he spent six months shacking up and doing drugs with Pattie’s 17-year-old sister Paula. After his fling with Paula, Eric spent a year with his new band, Derek & the Dominos, composing and recording the 1970 album ‘Layla & Other Assorted Love Songs.’ Every track, excluding the covers, was written about Pattie. It sucks Eric was basically a creep during all this because, IMO, ‘Layla’ is the great rock anthem of all time, and the rest of the album is amazing.

Pattie eventually did officially reciprocate Eric’s feelings in 1975, and they married on March 27th, 1979. Except that Eric was stoned or drunk their whole relationship, carried on with groupies on the road, began seeing future wife Lory del Santo while still with Pattie, was distant emotionally, etc. Basically a repeat of her marriage to George, but 100x worse. The worst moment was probably when Pattie was still living with George, and Eric threatened to snort a bag of heroin if she didn’t leave George (why do people like them together??). Pattie also attempted to get pregnant in 1984 with vitro fertilization, but that only caused two miscarriages. :( She moved out of their house in 1987, and filed for divorce a year later.

So what was the consolation for all this bullshit for two decades? How about a dozen of the best songs ever written. Forget ‘Layla,’ what about ‘Bell Bottom Blues,’ and ‘Wonderful Tonight?’ Or ‘I Need You?’ Or ‘If I Needed Someone?’ Or ‘For You Blue’ and ‘Old Brown Shoe?’ ‘Something??’ Yeah, I know George denied the last one, but LBR, he down played a lot of Beatles stuff after he married and had a kid with Olivia Arias. So while Pattie could hold a grudge and completely ignore her musical impact like Jane Asher, she’s owned up to the title of rock’s greatest muse; despite years of jealous fangirls and sexist fanboys. #kween Since the 1990s, Pattie’s been with third husband Rod Weston and has toured with two photography exhibits in 2006-2010 and 2011 on her own photos she’s shot. She’s also appeared in various documentaries like “The Beatles Anthology” (1995-96), Living in the Material World (2011) and Life in 12 Bars (2017). In her book, she retrospectively called George the love of her life, and felt Eric was probably only obsessed with her out of a musical jealousy with George.

#Pattie Boyd #muses #George Harrison #eric clapton #derek and the dominos #the beatles #last mini-bio for a while b/c my computer broke :'(#this is going to be such a pain in the ass for work ugh #thank God i backup every day #musesandgroupiesseries

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