#pissy paul

[forthlin]

pin-up girl. to me

[good-to-drive]

The amount of people getting legitimately defensive and upset that Paul's solo career never gets enough respect on a solo career poll that Paul won is such a perfect microcosm of this fandom, possibly of all fandom in general

[theriddeerler]

>> Hello Gotham ,

>> I’m about to loose my damn mind no time for green text .

>> My grandpa WILL NOT stop playing in the fucking kitchen trash can .

>> He touches all the trash with his hands , looks around in it very loudly while groaning and saying “THERE YA GO” , before going arm deep in and squishing it all down for 5 to 10 minutes and then proceeds to not wash his hands .

>> I am filled with so much rage . He does it a multiple times a day .

>> If you’re going to do this . If you have to . PLEASE DONT PUT THE DISHES AWAY AFTER TOUCHING THE TRASH . IM SOBBING .

>> Please grandpa , I beg you . Stop playing in the trash . You don’t need to touch the trash .

< ? >

[eternalera]

im sorry but i find it so funny and stupid that with the whole mrbeast drama with lunchly and people saying that it's not that much healthier (actually not at all if you consider how much calories a kid needs in a meal) than lunchables all of there comebacks are basically just.

'oh you dont like it then dont buy it'

oh buddy... no one is buying your product (or at least no adults). what you actually want is for them to stop reviewing it and giving actual accurate takes against your product in terms of how healthy it is.

it might be healthier than lunchables but almost anything is healthier than lunchables. there's probably some fast food item out there or fast food chain that makes better food than lunchables. you making something healthier than that isn't an achievement and the fact that you think it is says a lot about what you consider 'healthy'

also telling people that they can't talk bad about your product or else you'll 'get upset' and actively trying to get people to stop by basically mocking or making fun of them is the last thing people should be doing, especially if they want to make businesses, and you want to do that so bad maybe take their advice??? idk just a thought man.

stop trying to censor any accurate information on lunchly and how bad it is. i see you beefing with community notes and the package labels. theyre literally saying how 'oh its not true' and 'dont listen to it'

...

yeah please gain some self respect and realize that what you're doing is extremely fucking childish and stupid, please and thank you <3

[yum-grass]

The bitch ever

I hate him /pos

[adulthumanproblem]

Of course, this is just one Blind person. But I've seen sooo many people, mostly ableds of course, up in arms about these common phrases, and how they're sooo hurtful to say to a Blind person. So it's nice that Paul makes this video about it. (It's also an excuse to post them again, they're so cute)

[got-ticket-to-ride]

(30th of May 1968) If I didn't know better, Paul pretty much was psychologically destroyed because after going back from India, John starts his relationship with Yoko and even collaborates with her on his song Revolution. That must've been devastating for Paul? - closely writing songs together was a John and Paul thing afterall? - no wonder he was pissy when they started recording his song "Ob la di ob la da" (in July 3 1968). Also during around this time, despite his relationship with Jane Asher, he went on that dirty weekend from June 20th to 25th, 1968 (where he also met up with Linda Eastman).

I can only pinpoint Paul's going crackers after the start of "John and Yoko" because of the timeline.

But I think John and Paul continued sending messages through their songs…. (though John's responses were pretty much lukewarm).

Helter Skelter by Paul Recorded 18 July, 9–10 September 1968 "Well, do you, don't you want me to love you? I'm coming down fast, but I'm miles above you (Aaaaah) Tell me, tell me, tell me, come on, tell me the answer"

Glass Onion by John Recorded 11–13 September & 10 October 1968 "I told you about the walrus and me, man You know that we're as close as can be, man Well, here's another clue for you all The walrus was Paul"

I will by Paul Recorded 16–17 September 1968 "Will I wait a lonely lifetime If you want me to, I will"

hey while we’re on the topic can i show you guys a fun timeline of events that happened in the last two weeks of july 1968 that i’ve been thinking about non-stop since march 2022?

july 15th - geoff emerick quits working on the white album bc he’s sick of the beatles fighting during sessions. (supposedly the last straw is john and paul bitching at each other about oh-bla-di, oh-bla-da).

july 17th, (2 days later) - yellow submarine premiere: john, and yoko, and paul go together, (presumably from cavendish where they are all living). paul is the only beatle going stag.

july 20th, (3 days later) - paul goes to liverpool with francie schwartz and jane announces the end of her and paul’s relationship on live tv while they are there. per francie’s account, paul’s real sore about it.

july 28th, (1ish week later) - mad day out: paul Behaves Like That. john joins him.

july 29th, (next day) - the beatles start recording hey jude, the song john thinks is about paul telling him to go and be happy with yoko.

[inkofthebrain]

Imperial

[Paul Atreides x F!Reader] 1113 Words

Paul Atreides, Duke of Arakkis, takes the hand of the Emperor's eldest daughter for the throne, yet neither are pleased. They know they must learn to be civil, but what will it cost them...

Tags: post-Dune 2, strays from book canon, no use of yin, dune typical everything, Corinno!Reader, slow burn, enemies to lovers kind of? ARRAIGNED MARRIAGE TROPE EXCEPT BOTH PARTIES ARE PISSY ABOUT IT, not proofread LOL.

Warnings: Dune typical themes, motifs, and actions

Previous Chapter Next chapter (coming soon…)

Dune Masterlist

Nine———

Everyone in their right mind knows not to stop a charging bride so the guards didn’t even lift a finger as you marched towards the lush estate gardens.

Caladan has become less daunting the more time you spend there, you only wish it will be the same for the landscape of desert you have been sentenced too. Your thoughts consume you, racing past behind you eyes and gone before you were to process them, as your feet patter off path to a small clearing by the cliff side.

Your eyes gazed over the crashing waves against the resistance of the cliff side and fate came to mind; when does it not. You never really believed in it but you have come to the realization that with enough time and planning, anything could be orchestrated.

Your fate in particular seemed to have been thousands of years in the making, and while you have tried to fight against it similar to the angry waves beating the stone—-the tide will always succumb to the earth.

The salty air entered your nostrils with a swift inhale as you attempted to soothe your aching heart. The emotion was somewhere between grief and anger for both your father and your stolen fate.

You lifted your left hand and examined your ring before adjusting it slightly, there was no method to your movements, you just needed something physical to bring you out of your head.

And that is exactly what happened when you felt a hand brush your shoulder. You instantly whipped around to see who had caught you, but all you saw was Paul.

“We have a reception to attend, you know” His tone was rather playful, despite the fact you charged away before any words could be exchanged.

You tired back to the water before speaking, Paul following shortly to your side. The friendliness between the two of you was comfortable, You both kept each other within an arm's reach both physically and emotionally. A fine line seen all too often in these marriages.

“I’m Empress, aren’t I to do what I please?” You quip.

“If only it were that easy”

“If only”

A comforting silence fell between the two of you as you soaked in the view. Who knew the last time you would see such vast oceans. Maybe Paul did. You had no idea of knowing.

His gifts were quite alarming at first but a clear symptom of his spice agony. Drinking the water of life is a pain you have only had the horror of hearing about from your fathers truthsayer. It was a brutal ritual not even the Sardukar could endure.

The lives of so many others entering your mind, the multitudes of paths, the multitudes of potential. All while retaining your current wants and desires. The bile had heightened almost every part of him, his intelligence, his fears, and the crushing sensation of a will not of your own.

“Tell me about Arakkis?” You asked him

“It’s baren, and the heat follows you everywhere and—“

“Not a Definition, Paul. About your time there. I’d like to know what I’m getting into.”

You were terrified to be thrown into his world. Adjusting to a foreign culture is always strenuous but being implanted in one where your betrothed is their messiah? It was hard to tell if the people would accept you or reject your legitimacy as a bride to their mahdi.

His lips straightened into a tight line as he pondered where to start but like most things in the imperium, it was nipped in the bud before it would foster. You heard Delia’s stride approaching from behind.

“While I love to see the new Emperor and Empress basking in one another’s company, there are quite a few important people who are expecting the both of you very soon.” Her hands were clasped down at her waist as she attentively waited. You nod your head and let out a small hum before turning away from the view.

“I have another quick change, hm?” You question, Delia Humors your small remark and lets out a small laugh before nodding her head.

“I’ll see you there, husband.” The word felt like a dagger shooting through Paul. As you stepped away with Delia, Paul continued to ponder on what his life has succumbed to.

He had just married a woman he barely knew, all the while leaving the woman who brought him to be the person he is now behind in the dust. He hadn’t told you about Chani, yet somehow there was an unspoken agreement between you two that some things were to be left unsaid. This was a political marriage after all.

Chani despised him, he had risen above her after swearing he would be equal to her. Now he is her emperor, her new suppressor. Paul couldn’t help but wonder if the path he was blindly leading you down would leave you hating him as well. Maybe that’s how it was fated to be.

———

Delia had you re-pampered in all your imperial glory as you were thrown into a room of hungry politically driven wolves with Paul at your side.

After lists of warm wishes and congratulations, many of said wolves dove in for the kill. Presenting the two of you with ideas, requests, and comments on their states. Everyone was there, from planetary governors to heads of houses, all for the same greedy purpose; power.

Connections mean everything in this court, you are unlikely to get far without them. This is what you were taught from a very young age, both false and true connections. Double sided “friendship” and backhanded comments on current policies were all the rage as you and Paul were forced to parade yourselves around the large room.

Once you and Paul were able to seclude yourselves in a far corner you decided it was time for politics.

“We need a new truth-sayer, I cannot bear the thought of Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam attempting to further stir my fathers corruption into our future.” You turned to face him, “she is all but fond of you”

Paul let out a short chuckle, “That I am very aware of. The Bene Gesserit are not my biggest supporters.”

You let out a small hum in response, “Your mother?”

Paul shook his head, “She is the Fremen’s, we mustn’t take her from them. Not after they have just gained their Dune back” With a nod of your head and the clasping of your hands, you direct your attention to the rest of the room. Trying to predict who wants to make a proposition next. Trying to predict where your future would take you.

———

Next chapter (coming soon...)

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[giuseppe-yuki]

Imagine Kimi and Ollie both attempting to bring their girlfriends onto the drivers parade with them. Either they succeed and are very happy or pout the whole parade while their girlfriends watch from beside their performance coaches laughing to themselves

the second the requests are made to their the event coordinators, they are immediately shot down.

“that’s not fair to the other drivers,” is the response that ollie gets, while kimi gets a blunt, “your ‘tiger’ will tip over the entire car.”

both of their gfs are super understanding, and are more than glad to cheer from the sidelines, but obviously kimi and ollie are both stubborn af. if they want something, they will make it happen.

with ollie, it’s a bit easier to slip his girlfriend onto the driver’s parade. it helps a bit that it’s drizzling on track, so he literally just shoves her under his team kit hoodie and barrels past the event organizers with a giant umbrella blocking half his body and gets into the vehicle. when she pops out, in her bear cub!form, during the parade, he acts all surprised. “oh my! how curious, how did she get here?” the organizers are very unimpressed.

meanwhile, with kimi, it’s a little hard to hide an entire tiger. he tries like, 10 different ways, including slapping a huge therapy tiger sign on her fur to straight up threatening people by showing them his “tiger’s” sharp canines (spoiler: he almost gets kicked out of the parade for attempting that), but ultimately she has to stand on the side with his performance coach. (she doesn’t mind at all; she goes back to her usual human state and happily waves her homemade i <3 my bf sign from the side)

ofc, kimi gets a little pissy seeing during the parade when he sees ollie, who has his gf half-tucked into his warm jacket, waving one paw in the air at the fans. why does ollie get to have a shapeshifting!gf that’s conveniently teddy bear sized 😡???

he manages to slap on a smile for most of the ride but continuously shoots ollie glaring looks every once in a while. his gf has to calm him down with a hug and a “its fine, kimi, it’s not the end of the world” in order for him to not murder ollie once the parade ends (much to the amusement of literally everyone else).

kimi and ollie’s mischievous acts, like always, cause a chain reaction (re: ribbon bow incident) that now has got everyone wanting their shapeshifter!gfs with them during the driver’s parade with them. (paul aron has a drastic advantage with his songbird shapeshifter!gf)

[bambi-kinos]

Would you like to answer a few questions about you opinions about Paul. Peoples read him very different and of course as a human he too has good and bad sides. What are the things that stands out to you the most: pros and cons besides being icon and music genius. Not from beatle historians or anyone else's opinions just your personal views? In the Beatles, pre and post Beatles. How do you view him today vs from decades ago? (Don't know how long you've been a fan) do you think he's mostly happy or sad in private. I'm asking you this because to me you seem like the one on line blogger that seem to "get him". Also would you say that you are attracted to him? Have you seen him live? What are you favourite songs by him both as a Beatle and beyond. I'm a super-Paul-stan fan and proud of it and nothing you say can change my own opinions of Paul but because nobody is perfect. Ok I'll let you go now.

Had to think about this one for a couple of weeks.

My opinion about Paul is that most of positive and negative feelings towards him are earned. He deserves the reverence but sometimes people take it too far like when his stepsister Ruth called him a god with feet of clay or whatever lmao. That kind of behavior is incredibly cringe and its very embarrassing that people can talk that way about Paul. But I think that he's busted his ass for over 60 years so truthfully he's earned the accolades and praise that he gets. There are some people that get really pissy and mad that he's revered so much and the only thing that we can say to them is "get a fucking life." Paul McCartney has been working his shapely ass off for decades to get where he is and is still slamming out music at in his fucking 80s. When you accomplish half as much as he has than you can think about whining that he's too revered and too worshipped.

On the other hand Paul has done a good job of earning all the negative emotions directed at him. He's egotistical and isn't graceful about wearing that praise. He tries to pretend he doesn't care but it's so transparent and see through that it's actively irritating, I think it's this more than anything that can get people to bitch. There is a phony veneer to Paul where he's clearly doing a bit of some sort and it's aggravating because it's not entirely clear what the bit actually is. Like all the posts making fun of him for pretending to be """normal""" are not coming out of no where, it's real aggravation that he's worked his whole life to get where he is and he tries to go "heehee I don't actually want it I'm just a guy like you <3~" like cmon dude really. For fuck's sake.

When it comes to Paul himself, my take on him, idk. I identify with Paul heavily. I like to think I'm more aggressive than he is but who actually fucking knows. I went through a life changing trauma at a similar age. (I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes when I was eleven years old which is the insulin dependent diabetes that you hear about a lot on social media. BTW if anyone else has diabetes type 1 or 2 I'm available to talk, my dad and my partner are both type 2 and I know a lot about both.) I can identify with how your life is heavily bifurcated between Before and After. I also identify with how Paul really struggles to come to grips with his family life, while it's clear Jim and Mary did love him a lot they also simply were not stellar parents and a lot of their success with Paul and Mike lies in the fact that they gave their sons a steady home life without chaotic disruptions more than that they navigated the trials of parenthood well. I identify with that as well because diabetes makes my life very chaotic, and my parents did work to smooth those things over; but on the other hand my folks also had nasty and ugly moments with me just like Jim did with Paul. So I know what its like to love your parent immensely and be loved by them and still have a deeply resentful and distrustful relationship with them. And I never had a John Lennon in the mix to disrupt things.

I think it left me and Paul in similar places though our birth order is reversed with him being the oldest and me being the youngest. I realized a long time ago that I was completely on my own in terms of my diabetes and the rest of my life (my mother made some treatment decisions about my diabetes that nearly killed me a few times before I took control of it completely.) A parent can love you immensely, try to do everything right, and still damage you profoundly. With Paul having to endure physical blows and attempted emotional manipulation from his father, I think he too realized that he was totally on his own and that Jim could not give Paul what he needed. That is why Paul has such a strong self preservation instinct and why he comes off as two faced and why MLH remarked that he did not want to be in a dark alley with Paul if Paul did not like him. I've had to do some nasty things for self preservation and I think Paul has had to do it too. Some of them we know about but the majority we never will.

I think that it's hard to be the first born or the last born kid. You get so much of your parents attention but they screw you up in so many ways. I know middle children tend to feel ignored but I'm going to tell you right now, you're being shielded from a lot because you're not getting the Eye of Morder trained on you. Maybe we should all be thankful for what we have, idk. I have a lot more in common with my oldest sister than any of my middle siblings.

Paul is ruthlessly out for himself. I think John dying actually changed that a bit, it made him somewhat less vindictive and he was more open to letting people in but he's never not going to protect himself first. Or else he wouldn't have married Nancy in the first place, Nancy's first cousin was Barbara Walters and through Nancy Paul has a direct line to the news media which means he has yet one more string of influence so that he can control his public image. Nancy and Paul like each other a lot and their relationship is sincere, but Paul also benefits greatly by it. Do you see how this goes with him lol, he can invest in sincere relationships (and to be clear he does love Nancy) while still benefitting from it materially and immaterially. Note that a lot of the negative stuff about Paul started fading out of the press after he married Nancy.

Other fans often think I'm being negative and hateful about Paul when I point out that he is a manipulator and that he has a ruthless streak in him but that can't be farther from the truth. I sincerely admire Paul's ability to arrange his life in such a way that he is safe from most tangible threats and that he has such a way of moving chess pieces so that his hand isn't visible. I find that a great deal more admirable and amazing than John's bluntforce "let me squawk like a chicken to a reporter and they'll shit on Paul for me because I took a photo with them" thing. John was very blunt and clumsy with his sledgehammer and that did get results but I think that Paul is a great deal more artistic and beautiful with his media manipulation. The fact that he can carefully line up his pieces, get the results he wants, and then his influence is never seen (unless you extrapolate your way backwards from the results) is, to me, a great deal more elegant and sophisticated than the Lennono approach to bloviating during interviews.

Paul learned this during the initial Beatlemania rush when he had scads of heterosexual men all on their hands and knees begging him to let them fuck him. He does things exclusively through dangling something people want in front of them and then lets them take a course of action that suits him. And despite the fact that he is the architect of these movements you can never trace anything back to him because he does everything through influence and suggestion, not by out and out coercion or bribery. It's actually kind of incredible. Last week my friend remarked "I think Paul could pull off a bank heist and never get caught" and she's right.

That's what I admire about Paul. That is what I think is beautiful about him. Not necessarily the music or the lyrics or the insane life. Just the fact that he is a very patient and careful human being that doesn't lose his cool easily. I want to know more about him because I want that, you know? Being able to control facets of my life with that much care and harmony.

But that wasn't always the case. Paul was very clumsy during the 1970s because he let his feelings rule him when he should have crushed John like a bug. It wasn't until after John died that Paul started building the fortress, that was when he finally realized "oh shit, I need to build a persona for PR. I can't just be me anymore." Wings Paul is in some ways the most honest Paul, he vomits his feelings everywhere and we get a lot of insights into his mind and home life. That was before he had formed his own network of influence and political chicanry. 1980s Paul is when he's investing in that network finally and then 1990s Paul is when he started putting it into motion culminating in the divorce with Heather Mills. All in all I find it fascinating that Paul was not able to pull these disparate parts of himself together until he was in his 40s and Linda died. What is to be done with such a man?

I think that Paul has always had disparate parts of himself that he hasn't been able to reconcile. This is of course not unusual, it is the work of our lifetimes that we must see, accept, and internalize our contradictory natures. It's Paul's bad luck that he has to do this all in the public eye. No one envies him that. It's hell on earth and my heart breaks for him sometimes.

When it comes to Paul's moods in private, I think he is more or less "happy." Paul himself has said that he doesn't overthink his actions, he just decides what he wants to do and does it and whether it pans out or not is a different matter. I think that he's the kind of person that doesn't ruminate and he doesn't overthink what he's doing. And if he does do that then he goes to his guitar and does the "tell it all my problems" thing which is actually music therapy. It clearly helps him a lot and it clears his head so that he can keep his problems in perspective. I do that with journaling and my common place book, and I should do it more. It clearly helps Paul which is a good habit to have. All in all during his day to day life, Paul is happy and accomplished and has a big family with lots of grandchildren. Clearly loves Beatrice to bits and would do anything for her. The fact that we never hear anything bad about Beatrice is proof that she inherited all the right things from Paul lmao, she knows better than to get in trouble. Interestingly I think Beatrice is Paul's mini-me and considering Heather Mills is the same kind of personality as John Lennon, it makes me think that John and Paul having children together would actually have worked out very well for them.

On the other hand we know that Paul carries his share of anger and bitterness and old grudges. "No one knows the real me, do they." We're lucky that we live in a time where we can be relatively open about our personalities as well as our wants and needs. Paul did not grow up with such privileges and is only just recently starting to feel his way to the place we have inhabited our entire lives. He's suffered greatly for it. He's a naturally reticent person but I think John Lennon is the only person in the world Paul could fully express himself with; even Linda did not get full access to Paul considering comments made by others about Paul's controlling nature which belies anxiety. Why was Paul anxious around Linda, his soul mate? Because there were still parts of himself he didn't want her to know. And so on.

I think that in some ways Paul's lack of rumination and cheeriness is a choice that he's made for himself. He's been "tired" of negativity and hurtfulness for pretty much his entire life, he's always wanted to bring light into the world. John once said that Yoko painting "yes" on the ceiling of her exhibit was what he liked about her because it was positive, unlike the self absorbed 'woe is me' bullshit exhibits other avante garde people put up. I think John was attracted to Paul for similar reasons. Paul tries to take the sad song and make it better. Paul transformed John's life and he saved John from a much harder and painful path like the common belief that John would have landed himself in prison if he hadn't met Paul. I don't think it would have happened precisely that way but it was certainly a distinct possibility that John was aware of and he knew that Paul saved him from it.

Paul does it for himself as much as anyone else. I think he's actively trying to avoid the traps that many of us fall into. Rumination, bitterness, regrets. These are things that poison a person's life and even without therapeutic language Paul realized that he didn't want his life to be consumed by it. That doesn't mean he doesn't have his well of pain to tap into but he wants to live and be happy. He said once that John wouldn't want him to be hurt and depressed and he was right. I think if we all approached our lives with that kind of attitude, "I deserve to be happy and I'm going to do what it takes to get there," we would all be much better off. Paul is a role model in more ways than one.

Paul is a sport, a one off. There is no one else like him and when he dies there will never be anyone like him ever again. Treasure him now while he is here.

I have never seen him perform. When he has his next US tour then I'll go, I don't care what it costs.

Am I attracted to him: yes and yes. I find it more like an aspirational attractiveness but I think he's intensely beautiful and he became more beautiful as he aged (though there is something very special and breedable about 22 year old Paul McCartney. It's deeply depressing that he never got pregnant.) That's different from being handsome, all of the Beatles were handsome but Paul is intensely beautiful. It's the kind of thing that gets memorialized in Sumarian poems. If we were told he was descended from swan maidens or something like that, it would not be a shock. There's a story in that somewhere lol, imagine Paul bathing in a lake and John steals his feathered coat so that Paul will marry him or something like that. IDK. Paul is very intense.

Beauty is sovereign. Beauty triumphs over all things. Paul is one of those rare people that handles (almost) all of his affairs adroitly. Every little thing he does is magic.

I'm a big fan of all of Paul's work, I genuinely enjoy London Town for instance and I don't get why some circles make fun of it. Synth owns what is the problem here. Some of my favorite Paul songs:

With a Little Luck

Probably my favorite "John, I love you, I'm sorry, please come home" song. It's just very Paul, the very carefully arranged harmony, the minor key in an upbeat tempo, with the almost mismatched lyrics before Paul brings it back to a major key resolution. It makes me want to find my partner and kiss them on their lower lip. (My partner has a very pouty lower lip, easily one of their best features.)

Let 'em In

I have an entire animated music video in my head about this song. I've actually been looking up how to teach myself art because I want to pursue it. First learning to draw, then learning to animate and all because I want to animate this sequence I have in my head. Oh Paul. I adore you.

Rock Show

This one actually made me stand up and dance around my house which never happens anymore. I just love the energy and Paul's silly voices. And Paul's platonic fascination with axe wielders rears its head again! I wonder if Paul ever fantasized about killing people with an axe.

Another Day

This is the anthem of my life lmao. At least I have a romantic partner but we're long distance until I can emigrate to the United Kingdom so again I identify very heavily with this Paul piece. Ahhh…

When it comes to Paul's Beatle work, I don't really want to reference anything there because Beatles music was such a community effort, even Paul's songs aren't fully his once the other three got their hands on it. That's not a bad thing but it does mean the Beatles were an engine unto themselves. Paul never had full control of his songs. My choices are not particularly enlightened but they are true which is all I can provide.

This was a really great ask to get, thank you for sending it in. Very flattered if I'm someone who "gets" Paul. I think it's more like he makes a lot of sense to me and it's very rare that he does something that does not make sense to me. I'm probably projecting a lot but we all do that so who cares?

[hide-your-bugs-away]

JANE ASHER'S COSTUME BOOK ON THE DASHBOARD?? TIME TO BE NORMAL ABOUT MY FAV'S METICULOUSLY-CRAFTED CAMEO.

I haven’t heard anyone talking about this…

Could someone enlighten me?

?????????????????? WHAT

The collateral effects of having dated Paul

WHY ARE THEY SO GOOD?

Entrepeneur queen

ALSO THE BEST ONE

IM PEEING MYSELF THIS CANT BE TRUE LMAO

(Also, my posible future pfp…)

[beoneofus]

“ d’aw, wook at da’ wittle baby! ” a certain blonde cooed, reaching to poke fun at the messy braids made in your hair by the little boy that left the room just minutes ago only to grab a few things to finish off his masterpiece — the masterpiece known as your disastrous hair .

you see, laddie was innocent and recently met a new friend amongst the boardwalk. this friend just so happened to be a girl, and this girl gave him the lovely idea of doing up ones hair. she experimented on his head; brushing his hair to the side with the comb she had, along with applying a clip out of her own hair, to his. laddie had loved it, so she let him play with her hair as well.

he was given a demonstration of how to braid — and, low and behold, that demonstration was brought back to the cave.

now, you have no problem with spoiling the child. you love laddie, you all do; you just... really love your hair as well and now, after it being so tangled, you're afraid you may have to cut it.

and paul's fucking teasing isn't helping-

your narrowed eyes darted onto his figure, which was crouched beside your sat one —you were on the floor— mockingly, only to growl and lunge towards him; grabbing onto the front of his jacket, golden buttons pressing tightly against your palm. “ say one more word, and I'll shave your head in your sleep. ”

paul's eyes widened at the threat — usually he wouldn't take your words to heart, he'd laugh them off, but his hair was precious to him and you looked pissed. that's why he gulped, shaking his head in a nod. “ okay, okay! ” he pulled himself away, yanking your hands off of his front. “ jeez.. saw-rry, ms pissy. ”

you huffed in irritation. marko, who was nearby reading a comic, burst into a small fit of snickers from seeing paul so scared. you were just a mere human; what real damage could you actually do?

“ I know what you're thinking, ” you shot his way, giving the other male an annoyed look. “ and if you want to find out what I'm capable of, go ahead and piss me off. ”

marko's hands shot up in surrender, the comic dropping. “ hey, ” his green-blue eyes flickered to you, lips twisting in an upwards pointed position. “ I didn't do anything, baby cakes. I'm on your side, here. ”

the nickname made your eye twitch, but you didn't say anything.

just as you were about to retort though, laddie came running back into the room, “ y/n!! ” he laughed, grinning wide. “ look! I found some of star's old hair-clips! ”

blinking, you snatched your gaze away from the diabolical duo, pinning your now curious eyes onto the two clips laddie held. paul saw that as his ticket to flea, so he did.

one was a bronze, metal clip with glittery, silver stars decorating the center. it was plain, but pretty, and definitely something you could see star wearing.

the other one was one of those snap-clips. it was black, a small paper-like butterfly complimenting the tip. it looked old, the way the black paint was chipping off the end, the little ornament barely hanging on. still, you thought it was cute — it probably looked more durable when she first got it.

“ I'm guessing you're using those in my hair? ” you raised a brow, giving laddie a playful grin. no surprise that you had quickly calmed down. despite being mad about your hair, there's no way you had it in you to take it our on the kid. he was just an innocent sweetheart.

“ yep! ” laddie chirped, only to skid his way behind your sitting form once more. you felt his small hands place themselves among the sides of your head, only to reposition your head, until you were looking forward once again. “ now hold still! ”

you sighed, but smiled to yourself. looks like you'd have to risk your hair to make him happy... oh well.

but, that smile of yours quickly vanished as you saw paul and marko on the couch, looking at you, holding in their laughter.

oh, you're definitely killing them later.

hi, enjoy this since I've been gone for fucking decades.

[doomandgloomfromthetomb]

New York Dolls - Academy of Music, New York City, February 15, 1974

Seems like there's some great musician passing away every other day — which can be depressing! But we gotta acknowledge David Johansen, right? From the New York Dolls to Buster Poindexter to Scrooged (and don't forget Freejack!) to the Harry Smiths, he had a career like no other, the only thing tying it together being his talent, charisma and unforgettable face.

As much as I like their records, the New York Dolls feel like one of the ultimate "you had to be theres" of the 1970s, their outrageous style and reckless abandon something that only came across in full when you were experiencing it in real time. That's why I like cruddy audience recordings of the band like this early '74 tape, playing to a very rowdy hometown crowd. Through the murk and hiss, you get a real sense of the event, the wildness, the pulse of the moment. Too much, too soon.

Nick Kent: Believe me, the records don't even begin to capture the special magic of the Dolls on a good night playing in a pissy little club to their elite little crowd of mascara-daubed misfits and vagrant vamps. Misty glitzy memories of the way we were. So cute. So vital. So star-crossed.

Paul Nelson: The Dolls were alive. Perhaps it killed them not to be stars, darkened their personalities and drove some of them into private worlds, but at least they had the courage become figments of their own imaginations—and those creations were not altogether devoid of nobility. Their last words on record were: "I'm a human being."

Image: Detail from Mark Alan Stamaty's cover illustration for Will Hermes' Love Goes To Buildings On Fire.

[spidercookie18]

𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝑪𝒂𝒏 𝑹𝒖𝒏 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝑪𝒂𝒏’𝒕 𝑯𝒊𝒅𝒆

The Lost Boys 1987 AU set in modern time. None of the boys died, and all the Emersons/Star/Laddie/Frog brothers are vampires. This is explained later…

Tags: Mild blood, swearing, general violence, mentions of harassment Warnings: mild fatphobia- paul is just giving dwayne shit to mess with him Summary: Y/N prepares for their hunt while David and the boys mess with each other Word Count: 6k Previous chapter here: Next chapter here:

“No one should suffer what I suffered. I still dread those scenes when man killed man. I lost my parents, most of my family, by running away.” — Milkha Singh

Chapter Eight

You stared down at the phone. The blue light illuminating your face in the dark room.

Paul was backed up behind the couch in a low crouching stance, holding up his boot, ready to toss it. The poor thing was dripping wet and half naked. You could take a wild guess and say by the way ­­­­­­Marko and Dwayne were trying to corral him with towels that it was his bath night.

Their antics made you smile, and you continued to stare down at the photo a little longer. The warmth and happiness the image brought you slowly faded as you realized you were not with the boys, but all on your own in that house.

Looking around the empty room, you noticed how quiet it was. Your belongings laid in their rightful place; untouched since the last time David had moved them. The rental was full of your belongings, for all intents and purposes it was your ‘home’. But it didn’t feel like home right now.

Right now, it felt like a tomb of your mementos. Your mind wandered to the boxes the boys had hidden in their nooks. The things they kept from when they were humans… how you had been doing the same for years.

You sighed. As loud and annoying as they were, you missed the company of the boys.

You threw yourself against the bed in a huff, there was an ache in the pit of your stomach that you had forgotten.

Loneliness.

For years, you had yourself for company and you were fine with that. But in a few weeks these boys managed to turn your world upside down.

You sat up. Trying to shake off the itch of not wanting to be by yourself.

Gotta get out of my own head. You left your phone on the bed and walked out of your room to the washer on the other side of the house.

First things first, gotta get the scent off.

The clothes bunched up at your feet as you pushed them down. You slid your legs out from the loops of your bottoms and bent to pop them in the washer to get clean. You started the load and ran your naked butt back to your room to wash off as much vampire scent from your body as you could.

The lights were off, and the blinds were shut, so you didn’t worry about anyone seeing you skittering about in the dark.

As you stepped into the shower, the chill of the plastic tub beneath you made you shiver. You grasped the old knob of the shower and turned on the warm water.

The calmness of the water started to overtake you. The droplets ran down your back and legs, soaking your hair and making it stick to your neck. You placed your hands on the wall under the showerhead and let the water fall on your face. You focused on the sound of the running water, and the feeling of the droplets trail down your skin; anything you could do to try and not think of the boys.

You grunted; turning the water to as cold as you could get it.

Those idiots, you tried puting your mind at ease, but it kept wandering to what they were doing. They’re probably biting each other or something. You hung your head and let the wet hair fall down, around your face.

Little did you know, that three of the vampires in the picture were nipping and grooming each other. David on the other hand… he sat at the bottom of Monterey Bay, pissy as ever.

You started scrubbing your body with the pink mesh cloth you kept by the shampoo. It burned to scrape your flesh so hard, the sting was only eased by the sheer cold of the water. The skin on your arms and legs was bright red by the time you were done with your wash. Grabbing the towel from the rack nearest you, you wrapped it around your body and wrapped another one around your hair.

You walked back into the bedroom and stared at the phone on your bed.

No New Messages.

The sight saddened you.

That David had not responded.

He was probably busy wrangling his brothers, not that you knew what they were up to in the cave.

The bed creaked softly as you sat back down on it. You listened to the soft hum of the washing machine as it ran. The machine sat on the other side of the wall from your bathroom, and you stared at the space it would have been. You shifted your weight on the mattress and stayed staring at the wall, your mind an absent mess. Everything was so loud that it was almost easy to tune out the images before you.

The vampires you’d grown accustomed to. Their goofy smiles, the smell of their leather and the motor oil. How they teased each other, and you.

The thoughts raced around in your skull, like they were seeing which could get your attention first. The more you tried to ignore them, the louder they grew.

You sighed. The soft hum continued, while you gently thumbed at the phone in your hands. The pad of your digit gliding over the shiny black screen as you turned your attention from the bathroom wall to the rest of the house.

In your mind you pictured David. How he must’ve looked scampering through your belongings. His black coat flapping as he ran from one side of the house to the other.

You chuckled.

“Idiot,” you smirked.

The image of him in your mind was so clear that it almost felt like he was in the room with you.

Staring at the spot on the floor where he sat with you, you recalled breaking down in front of him. It felt sickly to recall that. How easily you cried in front of him. It made your stomach queasy thinking about it. You hated that he got to you so fast. So easily and so simply; you didn’t even know when he did it, but he made you trust him. And you hated how you fell into his arms. Grasping at him for safety as you wept… and how much you trusted him. The life you have lived, or unlived… the semantics were meaningless at this point. What did have meaning was being with them. Could you really allow yourself to fall further into your own emotions with these boys. These… vampires. Did it even matter anymore? What’s one more mistake on top of a life of regret. On top a life of loneliness and misery, can you look past the pain and hurt to make a new life? Did you even want to try…

You inhaled a long, calming breath- but as the air settled into your lungs you realized there was something off about the scent.

David.­

“Oh, no.” You stood up and stared at the bed and bedding in horror.

You forgot he was intent on scenting not just you, but the house too. You gathered up the sheets in your arms and walked them over to the washer. Tired eyes looked around the space. Trying to see if there was anything else that had David’s scent on it.

You sniffed the air, “oh…fuck me.” That’s right, he touched everything.

“Craaaaap.”

You growled at the thought of having to sterilize everything you own. 

Stomping back to your bedroom, you opened the closet and picked clothes that smelled the least like ‘privacy invader vampire boyfriend’. You walked through the house opening the windows and the doors. “Gotta vent this stupid house out now,” you mumbled to yourself. It was going to beeasier than trying to wash everything, and you weren’t too keen on having to wipe every single item down.

The screen doors were left locked, while every other door and window was open. You sat in the stripped bed and opened up your laptop. You were already annoyed with David, but there was nothing more you could do to make the house vent faster, so you decided to keep busy.

Gotta get ready for this hunt.

You researched the councilman and prepped for tracking this fucker down.

David let you know a bit about the ‘prey’ that the client hadn’t told you, and it would make finding him a lot easier. You were grateful to David for that.

The clacking of the keys was interrupted by twitching ears that picked up the sound of someone on your porch.

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.

Nooooo not now.

You knew exactly who it was, and still you wished you could will him away. You were in no mood to deal with ‘nosey neighbor number one’.

Maybe if I ignore him, he’ll leave.

“Heeey, Y/N.” Nick’s voice was like nails on a chalkboard. You didn’t like dealing with him on normal circumstances, but the vampire blood in your vial calling for your new mate, and your mate only, made you more irritated with Nick than normal.

You sat on your bed, knowing that the door to your room was not a straight shot to the front door. You knew he couldn’t see you, but you also knew he wouldn’t leave until he got to speak with you.

“Hellooooo?” He knocked again, louder this time…

“Just a second, Nick,” you tried to keep the annoyance in your voice at bay.

You placed the laptop on the bed next to you and straightened your clothes and tried to mentally prepare for this confrontation.

“Hey Y/N, what happened? D’You burn something?” Nick tried to joke. You stared at him, not smiling. Blinking plainly. He shifted his stance from one leg to the other, gesturing at the open windows. His half-hearted smile trying to break the tension.

“Oh, no I’m just,” thinking for a second, you realized you shouldn’t tell him you were trying to get David’s scent out of the house. “I’m just letting in some fresh air, it’s such a nice night anyways,” you rubbed the back of your neck. Anxious to get rid of him.

“Ah, I see.” Nick’s eyes trailed down your body. You were used to it. He hardly tried to hide his interest in you. The blood in your vial was putting you on edge. Some primal form of rage began clawing at the back of your throat. Not my mate, you felt the thought seep into your mind, and you pushed it down as far as you could. Your face twinged as you tried to refocus, and your heart started pounding with anger.

“Did you need something Nick?” Your voice interrupted his gazing.

Bump-bump

“Oh, right. Yeah, I saw that the guy with the bike dropped you off,”

“David,” you sternly corrected him. Your eyes instinctively narrowing at his disregard.

“Sure. He didn’t look too happy when he left, is everything okay between you two?” This nosey neighbor was getting on your last nerve. The smile he was hiding under his impatience was pushing you further to the edge.

You could feel how hard the throbbing was under your skin. Bump-Bump

Your teeth gritted a bit, “well, not that it’s any of your business. But we’re…taking a break right now.”

BUMP-BUMP

He lit up. “Oh, well I’m sorry to hear that.” He fiddled with his fingers, then he put one hand on the frame of the door- near the spot where David had splintered it. “In that case, would you be interested in goi-“

“Let me stop you there Nick.” You could feel your blood boiling. Your fingertips bit into your palm, and you could feel the bile in your throat as you spoke. “You Are Going To Go Back To Your House. AND STAY THERE.”

Nick’s eyes glossed over.

His jaw became slack, and he swayed ever so slightly.

“Don’t Come Back. In fact, don’t talk to me again. EVER.” You opened your palm and started counting off a list of things he was to do. “Don’t talk to me, don’t get my mail, don’t even look at me. In fact, if I’m outside, You’re Going To Go Inside And Not Bother Me. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?” Your voice came from the depths of your stomach, and the carry it had was frightening.

Nick nodded lazily and retracted his hand from the screen door.

He slowly turned around to leave, his feet dragging as he walked. You watched his slumped over form walk down the sidewalk and up to his porch. You saw as he fumbled for his key in his pocket and you turned to walk inside, not wanting to watch his glazed over attempt to get inside his house.

“Fucking guy,” you grumbled under your breath. You walked back to the bedroom and picked up your laptop, setting it gently on your lap, and opening it up to work on the werewolf profile.

Social media was probably your biggest ally for finding out about people. Who they were, how long they’d been in a certain place. Your targets ended up doing the bulk of your work for you. Thinking of this brought a soft, morbid smile to your face.

From what you gathered; the wolf has been on city council for only a few years. But before that he ran a county wide kids’ charity. There were plenty of pictures on the internet of him at foster homes and orphanages.

David’s words gnawed at the back of your skull. The thought of this large creature embedding himself in these kinds of places made you shudder. “What a creep,” you set the laptop down and walked over to the dresser where you had a notepad and a pen.

It was easy enough to find out about him through his social media pages; and that also gave you his favorite hangout spots. Along with where he would be tomorrow to open up a new park in the next town over. You’d be able to tail him so long as you kept your distance and stayed downwind. Didn’t want him smelling the boys on you till the scent had fully cleared up. But you’d at least see what kind of bodyguards he kept nearby- you only knew what to look out for thanks to the boys.

The pen scratched on the paper as you wrote down the time and address. You grabbed your phone to snap a picture, better to have two copies of everything, you thought. “Better safe than sorry,” you chuckled to yourself. You opened your gallery and made sure the image was clear, but when you tried to zoom in on the details the image swiped. It was the picture of you and David.

You felt your heart drop. It was like a hand had wrapped itself around the beating organ and squeezed with all its might. You gulped. Those beautiful blue eyes, and his soft and scratchy beard. This was going to be a tough few days. You still couldn’t believe they had gotten to you that soon. That David had gotten to you that soon. It seemed that the walls you had spent so long building up were easily coming down.

The sound of beeping caught your attention. “Guess laundry’s done,” talking to yourself was a bad habit you picked up a long while back. It was a way to keep from going insane from the solitude.

You shook your head, trying not to chastise yourself for speaking to yourself. It was fine enough to do it, this kind of ‘self-soothing technique’; especially now that you were by yourself again.

“It’s not a forever thing,” you reminded yourself as you got up from the desk and walked to the small laundry room. Your mind wandered again to what the boys were doing as you pulled the wet clothes from the washer. “Maybe they’re still trying to corral Paul,” you chuckled, pulling the lid of the dryer open and tossing the clothes inside with a slosh.

There was a calmness to the sea that night. A sense of serenity that let David’s mind truly find peace.

It was rare that he found a moment to himself. Always looking after his brothers, or helping the Emerson’s find their ‘sea legs’. He was always needed somewhere.

Somewhere, some place, on most nights he was needed to take care of mundane and idiodic problems that for some reason only he could solve.

Poor David could never relax. Never have a simple second to himself to breathe. He always needed to worry about others. If he wasn’t already dead, it would be killing him.

With his arms clutched around his knees, he turned his head upwards and watched the last of the air bubbles in his lungs gently float up towards the sky.

Three of the lost boys were left in the cave to entertain themselves while their new hyperfixation, Y/N, and their eldest brother, David, were out and about for the time being. Dwayne, and Marko had managed to re-wrangle Paul after he narrowly escaped them in the first place and were now sat in a circle brushing each other’s hair.

“You need to be gentle with me, Markoooo.” Paul griped. He was sat between Markos legs on the floor and half turned his head to tease him.

“Alright, alright, I said I was sorry for pulling on your knots, I didn’t mean to do it.” Marko rolled his eyes. He had accidently pulled Paul’s hair when he was brushing it earlier, and Paul, ever lovable Paul, screeched and flew out of his grasp. Marko and Dwayne rushed to grab him and finish brushing out his wild hair before it dried in matts.

“I’m delicate,” Paul snapped his head side to side with an attitude.

“I know,” Marko smiled. He knew Paul was only being silly, but he still felt bad about pulling his hair. He gently worked his fingers through the knots and brushed them out. Marko leaned forward a little and kissed the back of Paul’s neck. “How’s this; better?”

“Mhm,” Paul nodded happily and hummed to himself.

Marko’s worried face gently eased, and his furrowed brows came down with a sigh. The brush made a soft hissing noise as the plastic bristles pulled through the long blond hair.

“Hey, don’t move away from me,” Dwayne teasingly pulled Marko’s hair from his scalp, and the blond leaned back into position.

“Sorry Dwayne,” the curly haired vampire bashfully replied. He would never admit it, but he liked when the brunet pulled his hair like that.

Dwayne was the only one Marko let brush his hair. Not just because he liked when Dwayne was a little rough with him, but because he was the only other brother who cared about the look and health of his hair.

Marko wiggled between Dwayne’s legs and recalled a conversation he had with his brothers a while back when he was having a particularly bad hair day.

His curls refused to work with him, and he couldn’t get a comb through the back of his hair to save his life. Marko was going to ask Paul for help combing out his hair but soon realized the vampire who was single-handedly responsible for the hole in the ozone was not the one to ask. Anybody who says, “the wind will style it for me,” was not the person he wanted help from. He walked around the main cavern and happened upon David and Michael. Michael was sat on the edge of David’s cot, and David sat between his legs away from him. He was letting Michael trim the ends of his mullet because the brunet said he was starting to look like, ‘Joe Dirt’. David begrudgingly agreed as long as Michael cut it to his preferred length so he would stop nagging him about it. Marko sheepishly asked and Michael agreed to brush his hair after he was done with David’s. The cocky platinum blond on the floor jokingly asked his brother why he, “didn’t just use a 2-in-1 shampoo,” like he and Michael did because their hair never gave them troubles. Comb clutched in his hand Marko turned on his heels and went to wait for Dwayne to come back from playing with Laddie. I’d wait a year if it meant Dwayne brushed my hair and not those… barbarians. Marko grimaced to himself as he waited in Dwayne’s room.

“Stop squirming so much,” Dwayne chided.

“Sorry, it just tickles,” Marko gave a surly look back to Dwayne.

The brunet scoffed and grabbed the sides of his brother’s head. He firmly turned it so he would be looking forward.

“Ow,” Dwayne said loudly.

“Sorry,” Paul bit his lip in concentration. His nose was scrunched up in focus as he tried brushing Dwayne’s hair out. “Just focus Paulie,” he mumbled to himself. Desperately trying to concentrate on the task at hand, and not on how badly he wanted to get back to playing games on his phone.

Dwayne grumbled under his breath. He hated when Paul brushed his hair. He was always too focused on something else to be gentle. Too bad David isn’t here, Dwayne thought to himself. When the boys groomed each other, it was usually Dwayne brushing Marko’s hair, Marko brushing Paul’s hair, Paul brushing David’s hair, and David brushing Dwayne’s hair.

David did not care about how much effort Paul put in to brushing his hair, mostly because of how short it usually was. The other reason grooming was not a particularly important bonding exercise for David, was because he always said, “the real bonding takes place without clothes,” and he would laugh. Any one of the boys could brush his hair if they asked, or he would do it; it made no difference to him. Dwayne almost envied him for that fact, but he loved his hair for all the trouble it was.

There was a grating sound of the bristles getting caught on a tangle. A loud hiss that brought him back to reality as his hair dramatically yanked downwards.

“Ooouuch,” Dwayne gritted his teeth. He’d stopped brushing Marko’s hair and turned around to reprimand Paul. “Do that again and I’m going to bite the crap out of you.” He gave a stern look to Paul, who either, didn’t care, or wasn’t taking him seriously.

“Okay, okay, geez”. Paul huffed.

Too bad I’m such a nice guy, Dwayne rolled his eyes as he turned back around. If I wasn’t so nice I’d yank his hair outta his head…. Not that he’d care what he looked like.

“As a matter of fact,” Paul snorted, “I DO care what I look like.” His head bounced as he accentuated his words. “I’m just not prissy about it, like you.”

“иди на хуй.” (“Fuck yourself.”)  

Paul leaned forward to stick his tongue out at Dwayne, and with the brush in his hand, he yanked down on the knot again.

Before Marko could tell Paul that was a bad idea, Dwayne had released the curly headed blond and begun his assault on the wild haired one. The two were on the floor wrestling in a cacophony of grunting and swear words. They struggled for control; fists flying and grappling to gain the upper hand.

“Я собираюсь надрать тебе задницу” (“I’m going to kick your ass!”)

“Ich würde gerne sehen, wie du es versuchst. Dicker Junge!” (“I’d love to see you try it. Fat boy!”)

“Не называй меня толстой!” (“Don’t call me fat!”) Dwayne jabbed at Paul’s ribcage.

“Dann hör auf, fett zu sein,” (“Then stop being fat,”) Paul was pulling Dwayne’s hair.

“Guys, knock it off,” Marko sat back on the floor watching them, his tired voice already knowing they wouldn’t listen to him.

Paul was on top of Dwayne, trying to keep him pinned on the ground. Dwayne’s long legs flailed under him as he tried to regain leverage.

“вы дерьмо.” (“You’re shit.”)

“Du bist der größere Scheiß.” (“You’re the bigger shit.”)

Paul leaned down to yell in Dwayne’s face.

“Yeah, that’s right Paul,” Dwayne chuckled darkly; he threw his head forward and a loud CLACK echoed through the cave as their skulls collided. “I AM bigger,”

“Scheißkerl!” (“Mother fucker!”)

Paul instinctively reached for his face. The dark, dead blood slowly trickling down his broken nose.

Dwayne wasted no time taking advantage of the situation. He wrapped his arms around Paul’s torso and pushed him over to the side. In a second he was sat atop Paul’s midsection.

“You broke my fucking nose!” Paul was shrieking.

“Serves you right, you brat!” Dwayne had his arms folded in distain. “You pulled my hair!” He huffed while his fingers rubbed at the sore section on his scalp.

“I pull your hair, so you break my nose?” Paul rolled around on the ground the best he could. Dwayne’s weight held him in place, but the blond still flopped from side to side.

“I told you I would hurt you.” Dwayne spoke smugly.

“You said you would bite him, not break his nose,” Marko spoke ‘matter of factly’.  He was still sitting on the sidelines watching them; but now he had pulled the length of his hair towards the front and was nonchalantly combing it out as he watched his brothers fight.

“Get your fat ass off of me!” Paul was still shrieking.

Dwayne leaned down, arms still folded, “no.” The taunting, smug, shit eating grin sat prominently on his face.

A high pitched screeching still rang from Paul while he flailed underneath Dwayne. “Get ooooofffff.”

“Paul, you’re being dramatic.” Marko rolled his eyes.

“It doesn’t even hurt that bad.” Dwayne leaned down to scoff in Paul’s face but was met with a loud SMACK. With his face still covered, Paul threw out a right hook and connected.

“блядь!” (“Fuck!”) Dwayne was clutching his face now. Both vampires held their hands cupped over their broken noses; blood streaming down from one onto the other.

“Man, David is not going to be happy with you two,” Marko chuckled. He was laid back up against the couch still combing his hair; snickering to himself thinking about what David’s reaction to his brothers would be when he returned. Marko was picking at the space in between the cushions and found half a joint. He was picking off the lint and hair and started poking at the other cushions trying to find a lighter. He looked at Dwayne and Paul, both covered in blood now. “Oh, hey Paul?” Marko called out, thinking of something.

“What?” Paul yelped out.

Marko now wore the same shit eating grin Dwayne had a second ago, tittering to himself while he lit the joint, “you’re gonna need another bath.”

Something’s happening. David thought to himself.

There was an itch at the back of his skull that was starting to grow.

He knew it wasn’t an emergency by the particular sensation; but the other lost boys were definitely causing problems back at the cave.

A gentle growl began to emanate from David’s chest. He was irritated. No way I’m going back this soon. He scrunched his nose; thinking about what they could be up to.

They’ll be fine alone for a few hours.

David imagined them causing trouble on the boardwalk, or fighting each other, or. . . they’d better not be touching my stuff. His growling grew louder.

A nearby school of fish, startled by the sudden possibility of a predator, swam anxiously away.

The thoughts of his brothers rifling through his personal belongings bothered him to no end. They had been known to “accidently” break items that cannot be replaced. His brothers have also moved things without telling him. But most of all, he hated when they started using his things without asking.

He grumbled quietly to himself. The odd image of this sulking vampire at the bottom of the ocean confused even the sea life around him.

A curious turtle swam up to David. Its meek little face and beak turning from side to side as it looked at him. Sensing the creature, David looked up at it. A mumbled, “what are you looking at,” left his throat as he angrily tried to shoo it away. The turtle paid no mind to his behavior, and swam even closer, now near his face. David tried to release more air from his lungs to scare the turtle away with a cloud of bubbles, but to his ever more annoyance, he’d relinquished all the oxygen in his body in replacement of salt water.

The vampire reached for some sand by his legs where he was seated and tossed it at the animal.

The turtle blinked, shook its head once, and swam away.

By the simple reaction, he almost felt bad for chasing it away. But when he wanted solitude, he wanted it from everyone and everything.

Alone again, David felt the irritation coursing through his veins. He felt that itch in the back of his head nagging him again as well. They’re up to something. He crinkled his nose.

David reached for his chest, trying to find solace in the pack of cigarettes he’d left in his jacket pocket. When the realization that he was under water hit him, he growled again.

That’s the pain in the ass about coming out here. He reminded himself.

Can’t fucking smoke under water. He inhaled some water and exhaled a long sigh.

Well, he began to stand, my cigarettes are at home…

While he wasn’t entirely recharged from his ‘late night stroll’, David had no desire to be away from his oral fixation and started to trudge home underwater.

He had been gone only a couple of hours, if that. But when David stood at the entrance to the cave, dripping wet and craving nicotine, the loud screaming and pummeling sounds would suggest that the cave had fallen into utter chaos.

“I told you I would hurt you.”

“You said you would bite him, not break his nose”

“Get your fat ass off of me!”

David started the walk down into the cave. He didn’t know whether to laugh at them or yell at them by the way they looked. He could entirely believe that this was the situation his instincts were warning him of, but even after a hundred years together their antics still surprised him.

Completely wrapped up in their own scenario, none of the boys heard David sloshing into the cavern.

“You’re gonna need another bath.”

“He’s right Paul,” David called out to them.

In an instant, all three were looking at him. Two black and blue, covered in dead blood, and the other getting stoned and brushing his hair. David chuckled at the sight of them. He walked over to where Dwayne and Paul were and stood looking down at them. “You’re gonna need a bath, Paul.”

Paul rolled his eyes, “what about him?” He pointed at Dwayne who still sat atop him. One hand accusing his brother, the other revealing the swollen, broken skin. “He broke my nose! What’s his punishment?”

David leaned down to Paul’s face, he whispered in a sing songy voice, “getting a bath is not a punishment Paulie.” David reached his hands out to either side of his brother’s face. His thumbs pressed against the crooked cartilage and in a swift crack Paul’s nose was set.

Paul flinched. His hand came up to feel the bridge of his nose. He blinked hard at the tender feeling, “t-thank’s David.”

David winked at Paul and turned his attention to Dwayne.

“Now,” he was gesturing with his fingers, “get off em.”

Dwayne had not taken his attention off of Paul since David set his nose. “Not until he apologizes,” a low snarl came from his throat.

“Apologizes for what?” David looked down at the pair.

“Rat bastard called me ‘fat’.” Dwayne hissed.

“You’re fucking heavy man,” Paul pushed at Dwayne’s hips, trying to shove him off to no avail.

“Dwaayne,” David called to him with mischief in his voice.

Dwayne looked up at David. The ungloved hands came to rest upon either side of Dwayne’s face; his thumbs gently pushing on the bent parts of his nose. Dwayne’s large brown eyes, puffy from the bruises, stared up at the icy blue ones in defiance. David chuckled, “you’re fuckin’ heavy, y’a know that?” SNAP. The cartilage came to rest in its rightful position.

Dwayne winced under David’s hands. The blue eyed vampire stared down at his brothers.

“See? All better now.” David smiled wolfishly at them.

“Now,” his hand grabbed Dwayne by the shoulder, “get the fuck off em’,” he threw him to the ground with a snarl.

The brunet slid across the ground with a grunt. Paul sheepishly sat up on his elbows as he looked over at his brothers.

David ignored them and continued over to his room. “you both need a bath. des putains d'imbéciles.” (“bloody fucking idiots.”)

“Your phones been buzzing all night man,” Marko called to him. The boys were used to David’s mood swings, and he helped Dwayne off his back.

The vampire leader huffed and picked the phone off the cot. He half hoped it was a text from you, desperately regretting your choice and asking to come back… but it wasn’t.

Just my fucking luck.

Missed call’s from Lucy and Max.

Holding his phone in his hand he turned to yell at the others, “why did no one answer?”

“Is that a trick question?”

“Yeah, you hate when we touch your stuff.”

“Plus, we were busy man.”

David scoffed, “yeah, real fuckin’ busy,” he clicked redial to Max’s missed call. He could hear his brothers in the other part of the cave talking about something entirely different from the fight before. They have the memory of goldfish, he thought to himself.

The dial tone hit David’s ear like a ton of bricks. He hated getting calls from the ‘adults’. They call a hundred times but the second you call them back they’ve gone on a vow of silence.

His finger scrolled through all the messages he’d received from Max and Lucy in the past hour. Something about the hounds knocking over their blood reserves and they needed the boys to restock for them ‘ASAP’.

David groaned. “I fucking HAATE running errands.” His voice bellowed through the cave and shook the stalactites. His brothers took no notice of this and continued their conversation. He typed some half-assed response about needing to wait for the next new moon and threw the phone on the cot.

Still dripping with sea water, David grabbed his keys and walked out into the cavern.

Paul, reacting like a dog hearing his owner grab the leash, perked up and asked if they were going for a ride.

“No Paul, I am going for a ride.”

Dwayne and Marko giggled at Paul’s dejected look and continued passing the near dead roach around.

David made it to the steps of the cave before turning back to the others. “Alright,” he started. No matter what was happening in the cave he never liked riding without the other vampires. “Come on, go get your shit,” he smiled at them. The rest of the boys lit up, eagerly running to get their riding gear and hit the road.

It didn’t matter if they washed now or later, they were going to be covered in bugs and blood by the end of the night anyways.

They would ride all night til they could smell the warmth of the sun rising over the hills and return home when the light touched the water.

[kitkatdoodlez]

Omg literally obsessed with this 😂😂

It’s not polite to play with your food

[nsharks]

Twix’s irritation towards Nereida is INCREDIBLY realistic and makes so much sense. Nereida has had Price to take care of her and take lead in everything for the whole five years and Twix lost her entire family and had to fight to survive after the deaths of Paul and her sister up until Ghost and Blue took her in. I can 100% see Twix being a bit resentful for Nereida having a privilege that she didn’t. obv Nereida didn’t choose that for herself and doesn’t deserve to be ostracized for it but at the end of the day, Twix is human. i think anyone in her position would get pissy occasionally at someone who was so much more sheltered and protected than they were.

hope you’re feeling better Sharky!🩷

Also Twix just gets snappy sometimes (never with Blue though) 🫣