#impattieboyd

John felt no lack of sympathy when Pattie lifted her head, revealing the mess she had cried herself into, but he didn’t show it. The lack of emotion and thought which she regarded him left John wounded, uncaring. The words provoked his ire, and spiked an incredible amount of disbelief. Rising his eyebrows, John did all but scoff at her response.  ❛ I wouldn’t, would I? ❜ came the hypothetical response. He knew the delicacy of the topic, how taboo and outlandish it was, how painful and awkward it must’ve felt. John was beyond aware of the pain that curled in her stomach; his must’ve matched her own. The salty tears that flooded her large, crystal blue eyes were felt inwardly by the man. Her decision had left him, too, in a state of great agony--and all she could think was that he didn’t know a damn thing about it. 

He thought of a not so recent past, and the fresh pain that still came with it. He would never forget the moments--not moment, not singular--when they had told Yoko and himself they wouldn’t be having the babies. The slow swallow of a heartbreak and the inconsolable state which himself and his lover fell into could never be erased. The very room in which he stood at the moment felt like that scene, except, it was their doing now. He knew Pattie was senseless to most of that information, but it didn’t change that it had happened; it didn’t stop the ache that swelled in his heart. 

http://sonofthequietbeatle.tumblr.com/post/163699255779/happy-coming-out-of-the-vag-anniversary-you-little

@sonofthequietbeatle AND @impattieboyd- what you are doing is profoundly RACIST. You are denying Dhani his Mexican-American mother, his Mexican-American Family and his Mexican American heritage. And what @impattieboyd said was actually tasteless and very creepy (as is her entire tumblr). Dhani loves Olivia and is proud of his Mexican American heritage and family as his videos show.

You are also quite literally white-washing George's life story. You seriously need to deal with your resentment toward Olivia. Anyone who thinks this is acceptable also shares these attitudes. There are no excuses for this so no not offer any- I have heard them all already

STOP IT NOW

(Starter for @impattieboyd)

George had been in the chapel since four o’clock that morning. He’d been unable to sleep, and it was the only place within the palace walls where he could sit quietly, and pretend the world was at peace. The light shining in from behind a stained glass window bathed the pew on which he was sat deep red, blue, purple and gold, colouring the top of his head as he knelt praying, and danced in flitting patterns on the back of his neck. He jumped as the heavy doors at the other end of the chapel creaked open. Footsteps rang out on the flagstones underneath which the bodies of knights from England’s history were buried as two men came down the aisle, approaching the altar and immediately disturbing the objects laid out there. One of them, with dark hair and soft features, picked up the goblet of holy water and sniffed it before making a face and frowning over at George, still kneeling in the pews. ‘No wine,’ he said with a frown. ‘No service today,’ George replied.

He knew the only reason Paul and Richard liked to disturb him here was because it was the only Catholic chapel around, and they liked to steal the wine and wafers. Nobody knew that this small private chapel in the east wing of the palace was not Anglican like all the rest, because there would be outrage if it was found out. But George’s mother was from a Catholic family and it was only she and George, and a few servants who ever came here. It was where George felt most at peace.

‘I suppose you’re wondering why we’ve come in,’ Richard smiled. ‘I’d prefer to know how you got in,’ George mumbled, coming out to join them. Paul only nudged his arm and tried to lift the holy water to George’s mouth. He couldn’t help but smile at his friends’ antics, and he nudged Paul back and pushed it away. ‘Well’ Richard turned to him, ‘through the door, of course your Highness. And here.’ He held out a small silver tray which George hadn’t noticed before. On it was a single rolled piece of parchment sealed with gold wax. He didn’t need to inspect it closer to know that it was the seal from his father’s ring. George’s smile faltered. He stood for a moment, observing the tray, and then observing Richard too. He was the more serious of the two friends, who George had known since they were all children. Both came from families who George’s had helped out a lot over the years, and both were highly esteemed soldiers in the ranks of the army. Richard, whose stubbled beard and steady blue eyes always seemed to give off an air of trustworthiness, was still holding out the tray expectantly. When George bit the inside of his lip and reached forward to take the parchment, however, a smile suddenly cracked across the man’s face and he drew it away, stepping back from George. George tried again, and the same thing happened; only Paul was starting to laugh along now too. ‘Don’t you want to know what your father says, George?’ ‘Stop it Paul. And give me that paper. What if it’s urgent and he needs me five minutes ago!’ ‘Then he’ll smack you George. What a shame, you can’t reach.’ Soon George outwitted Richie and managed to grab the piece of parchment, unfurl and read it. And as he did, his face gradually drained of its colour.

‘George?’ Paul frowned in concern. ‘What is it? News from France?’ George couldn’t find the words to answer. His heart fluttered as he read the words, out of nervousness or anticipation or… fear, he didn’t know. He looked up at his friends and then excused himself, hurrying back up the aisle of the chapel and stopping only at the very end where the votive candles were lit on a rack, dripping clear wax onto the floor below. Hearing a soft noise of protest from the altar as he did so, he held the parchment by one corner and lowered it over a candle, watching it burn and singe away into black ash. This done, George was gone, out of the East wing and hastening towards his father’s study.

When he reached the place, some ten minutes later, he heard voices coming from inside. His father’s, of course, but also his older brother, Harry’s. He waited in the lush hallway, just listening for a moment. ‘Napoleon has 150,000 men at Boulogne stationed and ready to advance on England, and you are calling him a great leader? Do you have any loyalty to your country, or dare I even mention your family? You’ve made an idiot of yourself in front of parliament, Harry; I don’t know how you are going to regain the trust of the people after this! You are supposed to be the next King. Oh, you can deny it all you want. Who else do you suppose is going to do it? George?’ The King almost laughed, if he weren’t so enraged. At hearing his name, George decided to make his entrance. He hated hearing all this talk about war. It seemed he could never get away from it. He cleared his throat and gave a timid knock on the study door. His father and brother turned around.

(  @impattieboyd  )

♕  ▌◜【 meme 】 – ( accepting )  

John, ever since that first trip he and Cyn took with Pattie and George, has always thought Pattie to be an intelligent woman. It’s no use in denying that he thought her a beautiful woman as well, but when John first started really talking to Pattie, he found that they shared like-minded ideas, and that they enjoyed similar things. She was truly one of the first woman he became friends with with the main intention of staying friends. He genuinely fancied her company.

Like Alma Cogan once was to John, Pattie is a bit of comfort and bliss in an increasingly dark world for John. She’s beautiful, caring, and unappreciated, and though John can be a bit selfish with his needs, he does appreciate her, and aims to make her feel happy as well. Whether it be platonic or romantic between the pair, John does truly and actually have valid feelings for Pattie, and in spite of anything he says or does, he cares about her well being just as much as anyone else he cares about.

Just to clarify while @sonofthequietbeatle has Olivia as Dhani’s mother in their ‘about’ section they regularly repost and engage with @impattieboyd in posts where Pattie is Dhani’s mother

Dhani and Olivia went through the years of death threats and hate mail against George and Olivia. They had to go through George’s illness in late 1990’s. They had to go through Michael Abram’s attack and his trial (see the photos of them together at the trial). They had to go through George’s final illness and passing. They have to administer George’s legacy together. And Olivia is probably supporting Dhani through his divorce. This all matters deeply. I actually pity people who cannot see how problematic this behaviour genuinely is. The reality of George, Olivia, Dhani and Pattie’s lives matter

                                     happiness can be found in the darkest of times                                                                               if one only remembers to turn on the light.