#paul downs

[echofades]

Hacks @ SXSW IMDb Portrait Studio & Deadline Studio

[usa-tnews]

Emmys Analysis: How ‘Hacks’ Beat ‘The Bear,’ ‘Shogun’ Changed the Game and Peacock Got on the Map

For the 75th Emmys ceremony, which honored TV work from 2022-2023, but was postponed until Jan. 2024 becase of industry strikes, TV Academy members lined up almost entirely behind a single drama (HBO’s departing Succession), a single comedy (FX’s rookie The Bear) and a single limited/anthology series (Netflix’s Beef).

Eight months later, at the 76th Emmys — meaning both last weekend’s Creative Arts ceremonies and Sunday night’s Primetime ceremony — two shows had record-breaking hauls: FX’s limited-turned-drama series Shōgun took home 18 prizes, more than any other show in a single cycle; and the second season of The Bear snagged 11, surpassing by one its own record for most wins by a comedy in a single cycle.

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[bitsmag]

Hacks é renovada para quarta temporada. Último episódio da terceira temporada será disponibilizado esta quinta. #Hacks #Max #HBO #PaulDowns

[casserpillarr]

You tell him Pauling!!

When i saw this image going around i immediatly thought of them! So i had to draw it :) (image refrence under cut)

Here's the image its based off :)

[5ummit]

[dilf-docs]

All Roads Lead To Rome

pedro pascal x younger!reader

summary: your boyfriend swears he isn't annoyed at your little surprise visit on the set of gladiator II; you might have to help him release his anger, one way... or another.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (BARK BARK BARK), smut, p. in v., bit of exhibition kink cause they fuck on his trailer, he swears he's mad but he just wants head, oral (m. receiving), he also uses his armor and skirt while at it bc its hot and not bc i totally want that to happen to me or smth!!!, brat taming, orgasm denial, breeding and daddy kink lowkey, i'm so down bad for him so there's fluff!!! + pedro being whipped cause that's exactly what i want in my men, the cast makes cameos bc i love them!!!, use of spanish (i'm latina so don't even try me)

word count: 3,519 words

side note: i'm about as FERAL and horny as much as one could be!!! damn u pedro, making me walk out in the middle of class and walk on foot to the nearest theather for an early gladiator II screening (bc they're cheaper and i'm a jobless broke student lmao) that mind u it's my first solo trip to the movies but it's okay!!!! nobody interrupt me on my horny dilf hours amirite I TELL U that cinema was almost empty: just me, pedro and hey there's a spot if u wanna join mescal (look at my blog banner IYKYK) so yeah!!!! enjoy this porn lovechild that steemed from it; my pedro renaissance that'd been asleep since tlou dropped AWAKES (u don't get it, i literally watched narcos just for him) i'm so fr i need this man BIBLICALLY!!

"Lemme guess, that's her, right?"

Pedro looks up from his phone, slightly red and embarrassed. He would blame the color on the sun, and as an actor, fake his way out.

"No idea what you're talking about, Paul"

The young man chuckles.

"I mean, every break we get, you take your chair, sit the farthest and pull your phone with the most ridiculous grin I've ever seen. I'm afraid to tell you, friend, you aren't as slick as you think"

He leans back against the chair, covering his face with his large palm.

"At least I tried" he finds no point in lying anymore, "seems like I'm addicted, but if it wasn't for y/n, I wouldn't touch it"

"I'm curious, though" Paul scoots his chair closer, "who texts who? You or her?"

"Me" he answers, but then corrects himself quickly, a bit ashamed of how that makes him sound, "but it's mostly her first".

"Right" he doesn't sound convinced, rather curious and annoyed, something he's too old and tired for, "I don't believe you"

He's about to lock his phone, but the wallpaper (a selfie with you) would probably earn him another mock from Mescal.

"Too bad I don't need you to"

Before he can do so, the irish man yanks his phone away.

"Give it back!" he shouts, earning a few glances from the crew around them, "what are you, ten?"

"No, twenty-eight" they look like kids bickering. "No need to fight me, Mr. Pascal, they haven't taught us the new fighting choreography yet" he mocks, before the phone chimes; they both stop at the sound.

"What does this mean?" Paul asks. "Malta's nice" he reads out loud, "were you talking about possible future vacations? I might have to tag along"

He doesn't follow the man's joke, instead, looking at the message on your chat. Malta's nice, says the little cryptic message, and yes―it is cryptic, because you were just talking about missing each other and some other corny stuff he'd take to his grave. Not vacations, and certainly, not about the european island, which happens to also be the place were he's filming his latest movie.

"No, we weren't" he replies confused, "what do you think it means?"

"Well, obviously, you boys don't know anything" May pops up from behind, laughing.

"Were you eavesdropping?" he asks playfully, albeit, a little offended.

"No, you guys are just too loud" she replies nonchalant. "Besides, you aren't very good at hiding it, either"

"That's what I said!" Paul backs, laughing on his face.

"Stop being misterious and just drop it"

"It means" she pauses―laughing at her own little dramatic effect, "that you're getting a visit soon"

When you met Pedro, you were working in The Last Of Us. Nothing fancy, just part of the technical cast of the show: helping with the filming and stuff.

During those months, it was easy to find yourself falling for the main star (alongside Bella Ramsey), especially when you spent months behind a camera, capturing all of his perfect features; learning them by memory until you could draw them without seeing his face.

Yes, you had fallen for the older man, because it was as natural as breathing; easy as being alive―the fall so gentle and so easy, it was hard to know when the feelings started. You just woke up one day, feeling different.

You liked to act up―always had what you wanted, and times had changed (so it's not like he had to ask first): why not? Which is why during your last day of shooting you took some liquid courage on your veins and went up his way. It was at a little gathering the crew you've grown to call family organized, while wearing your favorite and tightest dress, that you approached him.

It surprised you that he even recognized you, but that's who he was: warm, welcoming and caring.

To augment the surprise, turns out he had eyed you already, but was too shy to do anything. Yes, the worlds most famous Chilean man. It did stroke your ego, and maybe that's why you feel like most of the time, you've got the upper hand on your relationship, despite the years in between.

Still, you feel like the last message you just sent was a bit too blunt. Now you sit at the tiny airport, pondering your next move.

You know your boyfriend isn't exactly the type to scold or get mad―despite his strong figure, but going against the only thing he asked you might test him. Which is why you feel nervous, despite the happiness around you, everyone in the airport looking straight out of a picture perfect summer edition magazine.

And your theory is proven exactly right when you arrive impromptu at the Gladiator II set: making heads turn and guards almost kick you out, thinking you're a fan.

"You don't get it!" you protest, "he's my boyfriend".

"Sure", they laugh on your face. "you're not the first to say that".

"She's not lying" oh, how you love that gravely voice. But not today: not when he sounds like a parent scolding a naive child. Not when his eyes bore into you, slightly irritated.

So now he's dragging you among the set, right to were his trailer is.

"Aren't you going to introduce me?" you ask, puffing your cheeks out in annoyance. He keeps dragging you by the arm, without sparing a glance in your way. Who does he think he is? "I wanted to tell Paul he made me cry―twice. You know I don't play about Normal People and Aftersun"

"But you do seem to play about my orders" he grunts out, opening the door to his trailer. The sunlight reflects against the white, slightly bothering your eyes with its shine, contrary to your boyfriend's gloomy behaviour.

"Are you being serious right now? You're not my dad to scold me. I just wanted to surprise you" you stand still, refusing to get inside. Pedro knows your character tends to be stubborn, and thought he finds it hot to reel you up sometimes, there are other times where he can't just stand that juvenile spirit of rage you tend to have when things don't go the way you want them to. "What's gotten into you?"

"I could ask you the same" he mocks. "Get inside. Now"

"Rude" you scoff, but obey regardless, and he breathes out relieved you didn't do a scene like last time; he still can't show his face on that restaurant to this day.

"I thought you'd be happy to see me" you say a tad bit dissapointed, and Pascal feels the pissed off feelings clouding his brain start to dissipate.

"I do, amor" he sighs, "just hate to see you do things I tell you not to; waltzing in here like you own the place".

You don't see the mistake, though. What's wrong with wanting to do a little surprise? It's not like you were a stalker or something; just a very clingy girlfriend who happens to miss her boyfriend.

"So, you're not mad?" you venture, "tell me you're not embarrassed"

He looks at you, the fondness of his gaze betraying him.

"I'm not the one wearing a skirt while trying to sound intimidating" you joke while caressing the crook of his nose, knowing you always get on his good side. Being mad isn't something that lasts, "if anyone should be embarrassed, that's you"

"Are you saying I shouldn't wear one because I'm a man?" your boyfriend looks offended, "Have you forgotten the movie I'm starring in? People feared the skirt-wearing Roman army"

"Well, I'm not intimidated" you stand defiant, and something dark tints his brown eyes. You can feel the excitement begin pooling in your stomach.

"You're not?" he grips your wrists and yanks you to him, then holds your chin, tilting your head between his calloused fingers. "Well, cariño, you should be"

Your body slams against one of the trailers walls, and you have to suppress a whine.

"You must be punished for what you did today"

You give him a doe-eye look, pretending to be all innocent, as if you weren't enjoying the punishment.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I've been a good girl"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about" he clicks his tongue, "don't play dumb with me"

"I just came to visit you" you murmur, voice husky against his ear. He grunts, and with the proximity, his hard-on rasps against your bare legs, only partly covered by the flowy summer dress you're wearing, "is that so bad?"

"It is. Has sido mala, cariño" his hand travels down under your dress, carresing with his large palm the silhoutte of your ass. The rings on his fingers create a shock, cold metal against your warm sun-bathed skin. "Naughty girl"

"I promise I'll be good, papi" you purr, using that honeyed voice of yours that makes it hard: hard to say no and hard between his pants.

Pedro sits on a small couch he has inside the trailer, guiding you with his hand enveloped around yours, motioning you to follow with a care so soft, you'd doubt he's about to do to you what he is about to do to you. He pulls you across his lap, smiling (God, you love his smile) as your stomach presses against his tights.

"Don't worry" he breathes low, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll make you a good girl. Tell me, aren't you?"

You swallow, "I am"

He moves the panties easily to the side, rubbing your pussy a little. He then spanks it softly, making you mewl at the sting.

Pedro continues to trace over it, "Are you sure about that?"

"N-no" you shiver in delight, resolve dissolving as quick as it came. "I'm naughty"

"It's good to be aware" he murmurs, "Dilo otra vez"

"I'm a naughty girl"

He lifts your head by your hair. "Tell me what you did"

"Disobeyed your orders, coming to the set" you whisper. He lets go of your hair, his hands traveling down again, slowly teasingly rubbing your pussy while he humms.

"You were a little brat, amor"

You whimpered and mewled in delight. "I was a very naughty brat"

He pushed his fingers inside you, plunging his fingers into your pussy.

"Look at you. You're soaking wet" he pumped his fingers in you, making you moan, "Is that why you came to see me? Couldn't wait any longer for daddy to be inside of you?"

You bucked a little, making him stop. He drags his fingers out, causing you to beg for him to go back.

"Answer my question you greedy thing" He leaned closer to your ear. "Did you need my cock this much?"

You whimper, "I do! Missed you so much"

He pushed his fingers back into you, provoking a moan out of you.

"You're always so needy for me" your core tenses, making you shiver. "How badly do you want me? Tell me"

You whimpered "Badly, papi"

"Say it" his face contorts in satisfaction at your pathethic display; crying little mess, "Who's cock, fingers and mouth make you feel good?"

You can't think at this point, your brain fuzzy and pussy hot, leaking. You kiss his lips, moaning against them, "you!"

"Just me, yes? Nobody else can make you feel this good?"

"No one!"

You involuntarily roll your hips to aid you in pleasure, yet Pedro stops you just before you can reach your orgasm.

"Little brat." he tuts, making you groan. "Did you think I'd let you? You were naughty today, baby"

You huff in annoyance, used to having your way.

"That's your punishment"

"But I'll behave" you mewl against his ear, "I promise"

“Good, because I'm planning on fucking your brains out” his hot breathe whispers in your ear seductively, trying his best not to slur the words at the drunken haze that your arousal provokes in him, "but you have to help me first"

You get on your knees, looking at the garment he's wearing. The skirt and general costume makes this all the more hot, mouth watering at the sight. You raise the skirt, glancing at the briefs; just seeing his dick strained against the fabric makes you wet in anticipation.

He sees the pleasure bore into your orbs, and before you do any dirty idea of yours, he's already warning:

"You have to take this off, what if we-"

"Alright" you cut him off, "but the skirt stays"

"Sigue, pues" he growls, voice low yet demanding, following you in your little game.

As you pull the briefs down, his erection springs out enthusiastically, slapping up against his lower abdomen. You shifted your gaze up to meet his, his eyelids heavy and his proud smirk driving you absolutely wild.

"That's right" he chokes out, "show me how much you missed it"

You give him a proud lick, and Pedro hisses at the moment his preseminal fluid goes in between your hungry lips.

Your tongue darts to the head of his cock, running over it several times before bobbing your head down, taking most of him in your mouth. He keeps praising as you pump the base of his cock with your hand. Your head bobs, yet you peek up to hear Pascal's little sounds and facial expression, a motivation so intimate in the way his brows furrow and eyes roll, mouth agape at your movements while his lip suck on those pretty lips of his. It makes you keep going. With every bob you take as much of him in your mouth as you can, before slowly moving your way back up to the tip, increasing your suction the closer to his head you got. A throaty moan escapes the man above you when you now focus on the final lick, making him closer to coming, all while maintaining eye contact the entire way through.

"Don't do that" he rasps, yanking you by the hair again, as of punishment, but he knows you enjoy it, "you promised you'd be good"

You can't answer, so instead, you reach the head of his cock again, and now his eyes roll back, mumbling profanities that sound like heaven.

"Do you want them to hear us, brat? Qué necia eres" he manages to chastise while moaning.

You feel his dick stuck in your throat, and the way he's about to come; you think that after some time dating, you know him well enough.

You're about to leave with your mouth when he stops you.

"No" your eyes open in shock, "what? Did you think your punishment is over?" Pedro laughs, "don't look at me like that. Like you have never done it before"

He keeps you in place by the hair, the rings prickling against your scalp. You feel his muscles tense up, and before you can think anything else thick and hot shots of cum invade your mouth, making it sticky and warm.

"Don't pretend you don't like it" his voice goes dark, husky. "Swallow it all. Te han enseñado a no desperdiciar nada, ¿verdad? Show me your good manners, then"

When you pull out, your throat feels raspy.

"You gotta reward me" you cough out.

"I promised, didn't I?" his fingers trace your face delicately, with adoration.

"It's all about duty, General Acacius" you purr, and the dick springs out again. Hard.

"Princess..." he warns.

"For the glory of Rome" you joke and laugh, then cough, as your throat is still sore.

"Have you been reading my script?" as you avoid to answer, he just chuckles, "ay, nena"

"C'mere" he motions, and you sit on his lap again. Pedro lifts your dress, exploring the curve of your ass. There's anticipation as he hooks his finger around the waistband of your panties, pulling them down to access your core.

"Fuck" you squirm at his touch, grinding your freed cunt against his hard cock. He grabs you by the hip, adjusting you right on his lap.

"You taste so good" he kisses down your throat, ending at the chest were your tits peak.

"Want them?" you offer, pulling your dress down. He kisses them, gently nipping at your perked up nipples.

A wave of pleasure courses through you, and with whines and moans, you show how desperate you are, the hunger making the meal taste better. After all those weeks missing him, you just want him to fuck you senseless.

His lips are rosy and swollen against yours, mouths clashing; starved of the yearned contact. Truth is, no matter how much you know how to touch yourself, it'll never be the same as having his hard cock tear through your tight folds.

Pedro easily aligns his leaking cock with your uncovered pussy, all while mantaining the kiss. He pushes down on you, your dripping cunt taking all of his rock-hard cock, fingers holding onto the soft brown grey sprinkled locs.

"Pedro" you cry out his name, full of ecstasy as the stretch burns so sweetly. His low grunts only fuel your desire.

You trace with your eyes his body, now bare without the upper part of the costume: his pecs and abs, flexing with every pump. With now free hands, your fingers travel to softly caress his stomach, even if your tits are jiggling and the pace is rather frenetic.

"I missed you so much" you pout.

"I missed you too" he whispers out, getting tired.

He's reminded of his old age, forgetting about it as soon as you two kiss, because you bring out a stamina he thinks he doesn't have anymore; almost animalistic. His bones creak and adding the tiring filming day under the hot sun, he feels his body start to give up, the orgams closer and closer.

"Missed how you look" you clash your lips onto his, the adoration translating through the smile you press against, a trail of saliva that symbolizes how interwined you are, "you always look so fucking good"

He blushes, feeling like a stupid school boy with a crush. What did he even do to deserve you? Never thought a pretty young wild thing like you would even spare a glance on his way, but now you're taking all of his cock inside with such greed yet loom into his eyes with a love he's only dreamed of.

You're real, and his.

As soon as those words leave your mouth your orgasm spills over him, some of it dripping onto the skirt, making him curse. You can't stop, still meeting his thrusts halfway, despite your trembling body after reaching your high.

"Mierda" he groans against your mouth,

You feel yourself collapsing on top of him, the weight of the jet lag catching up.

"Getting tired, baby?" he coos. "Shit, and I thought I was old"

"You are" you reply back; you can never not have the last word. And he lets you, because, God, doesn't he love you? He pretends to look offended by it, but the way your eyes shine tell him you didn't mean it that way. "You and your white hairs" tracing over his moustache, a soft hand combing through his locks, "These wrinkles... don't you know how much I love them? how much I love you?"

"And you have no idea how much I love you" he squeezes his eyes shut, feeling it coming through. "God, wanna make you mine. Sólo mía" his pace slows. It's coming, and yes, you will take it all. "Wanna make you a baby, mami. Want you to take it all like the good girl you are"

When he comes, filling you with burning hot cum until you feel like you might burst, you're numb. But there's a feeling so content that pools warmth in your chest, that you can't say anything else, resting your head against his bare chest, both covered in sticky sweat.

"No sé cómo voy a explicar esto" he speaks through ragged breathes, and you can only smirk, "a squirted and cummed roman skirt".

"That isn't my problem" he scoffs, and you feel your head rise against the movement, earning a laugh out of you, "I'm not part of the movie"

"You'd sure think so, with the way you walked in here"

You roll your eyes, face hidden against his chest, "can you let that go?"

"You're right" he pulls you closer to him, hand enveloping you behind your bare back. The quiet doesn't bother you as you lie closer to his chest, his heartbeat the only thing you need to be at peace, "I think punishment time is over. Think you've learned your lesson"

"Then, how about we go out? I've heard Malta's beaches are pretty"

"Relájate, cariño. Seems you've gotten your energy back" he quips, then kisses your forehead. "We need to wait for everyone to get out"

"That embarrased you are of me?" you joke.

"No" he can already imagine his fellow cast members making fun of him, starting with Paul and Joseph when they see you and Connie who will totally notice the fun sticky stains on the costume, "but embarrased of the explanation I'll have to give"

cr: divider @kodaswrld / gif @a7estrellas

[sammaggs]

3x01 Burning Down the House | Continuous

THIS IS ALL ONE SHOT!!!!!!!!!!! THIS IS ALL. ONE SHOT.

A nearly two-minute walk and talk in the precinct set with NO CUTS. For TWO MINUTES.

This is TWO FULL YEARS before The West Wing, which popularized the long hallway single shot walk and talk.

Genuinely hard to convey how difficult a shot like this is to choreograph with so many different moving pieces. As one continuous take this shot is WILD. It means everything—including the push in to Ray and Elaine, the pull back out to include Fraser stepping precisely back into frame, the ACTUAL LIVE DOG, the walk into the bullpen with all the extras cutting in front of camera, the gag with the ink—all of that is in ONE GO, NO FUCK UPS.

INCLUDING!! One of the best pieces of acting in the ENTIRE SERIES right here:

THE love at first sight moment. In the MIDDLE of all this.

My favourite thing about this is imagining Gordon Pinsent standing patiently in the bullpen waiting for his moment for the 45 times it took to get the first ninety seconds of this shot clean.

Oh I will never be done being obsessed with this show. The level of stagecraft involved here alone is insane. Paul Gross the man you are,

Happy 27th birthday today, Burning Down the House (Sept. 14, 1997)!! You are still iconic🇨🇦🍁

due South Long Shots [one] [two] [three] [four]

[imgonnagetchaigetcha]

That's my favorite photo of the Beatles...

Come on boys, closer, closer

[sunbleachedbitch]

I can’t stop laughing at this 😭 it’s literally “me when the guy I’m tryna hit says something” like why is john laughing so EGREGIOUSLY

[percy-thrills-thrillington]

Thinking about the story of Paul always straightening John's tie.

Thinking about how for John, having his tie loose and the top button undone was his little act of rebellion and push back to having to wear suits all the time in their early years, and Paul always coming up to him before a show and straightening it up, was Paul saying "shape up, knock it off, don't disturb the peace."

But when Paul when he heard this, he said "There’s a story that I used to straighten John’s tie before we went on stage. That seems to have become a symbol of what my attitude was supposed to have been. I’ve never straightened anyone’s tie in my life, except perhaps affectionately.”

To Paul, he wasn't trying to tell John to stop, he wasn't asking him to change something about himself, he wasn't trying to make him do anything. To Paul, that was a show of affection. That's how he showed all the excitement and joy before they would go on stage together.

Paul saw fixing a problem as an act of love, and John saw it as an act of criticism.

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is a perfect illustration of how they were always doomed.

[nerolikestowander]

Ughhhh this has so many flaws but here you go! This song ruined my life 😀

And here are the still versions :(((

[the-evil-skull]

Every time I watch Dune I forget about it but I'm foaming at the mouth over how Paul has a vision of himself as a powerful, respected, divine figure with millions worshipping him and he just says "Somebody help me"

[justnatoka]

Creep deterrent

Poly! Lost Boys x Fem! Reader

A/n: Just a little something that came to my mind while working on another request. It took hold of my brain so I had to get it out lol.

Word count: 1.6k

Warning: stalking and creepy behaviour

Summary: After being followed and chased around by some creep on the boardwalk, you ask for help from the infamous boys of Santa Carla.

At any other night you would have steered clear of them. That's what most people did – except for the meathead surf nazis. They were hard to miss, the howling of their bike engines echoing over the noise of the boardwalk. These boys looked like trouble; it was wiser to keep a safe distance and not get involved with them. But that's exactly why you needed them tonight.

It was a weekly tradition with your friends to spend weekend nights on the boardwalk. You played games, ate greasy food and got drunk on the beach around a campfire. It was a reliable routine, one that guaranteed to get your spirits up no matter how grueling the days before have been. You could count on them to meet you at the entrance at the same exact time every Friday and Saturday. Perhaps that's why he knew you would be here on this exact night.

You had no idea who he was, you've never seen him before last Friday, when you first spotted him following your group around the boardwalk. At first, you told yourself that it was nothing, you were delusional, he was just another person enjoying the cheerful atmosphere. Sure, it was a bit unnerving that he was wearing a dark hoodie and a baseball cap, effectively concealing his face, but if he wanted to sweat his ass off in the balmy summer air, that was his choice.

But then you started seeing him more and more as the night progressed, always keeping some distance, but always there. And when you noticed him on Saturday as well, wearing the exact same clothes, doing the exact same stuff, you got really anxious. You brought it up with your friends, however in their slightly drunken state they laughed it off as just a pathetic creep who got off on ogling at pretty girls. You didn't share their merriment, but decided to let it go for now. Up until now he didn't do anything more than stare. There was no real harm in that, right? Wrong.

Here you were a week later, making your way out of the public bathroom, looking around for your friends. The boardwalk was busier than usual, probably due to the fact that a popular band was playing at the stage tonight. That's why you didn't worry when you didn't spot them right away. But the more you looked, turning your head this way and that, and still not being able to see them, you started getting a bit nervous.

That's when you noticed him. A solitary figure dressed in a dark hoodie and baseball cap, standing in one place while the colorful crowd weaved around him. Your stomach dropped when he took a step towards you, and even though you couldn't make out his face, you were sure he was staring right at you, your skin crawling under his unseen gaze.

When he took another step, your mind blanked. You didn't think, you just ran.

While weaving through the crowd as fast as you could, your brain booted back up, and your mind started racing a mile a minute. What did he want? Why was he doing this? How long has he been stalking you? What if this has been going on longer than you've realized, and it was only by accident that you've noticed him last week? Were you his target all along or did he choose you because you were alone? It was clear he wanted to use this opportunity; for what, you had no idea, and you had no intention of finding out either.

Occasionally, you kept glancing back to discover him still following you. And he just kept on coming, the distance between you shrinking at an alarming rate. At this point you threw good manners aside and started pushing people out of your way, ignoring complaints and cusswords directed at you. Your veins were running full of adrenaline, the rapid thumping of your heartbeat echoing in your ears. You had no idea where exactly you were headed, the only thought filling your mind was the need to be as far from him as possible.

The crowd finally spit you out near the edge of the boardwalk; the railing separating the beach to your left, and up ahead a set of stairs leading down to the sand. At the other side of said stairs, surveying and laughing at the drunken antics of the people below were four familiar figures. The infamous boys of Santa Carla were lazing around their bikes, all easy smiles and cigarette smoke and loud chatter. You've never interacted with them before – you knew they were trouble –, but now it only took you half a second to weight your options.

Conversation between them died down as soon as they noticed you approaching, your steps purposeful, the air around you reeking with anxiety.

"What's up, dollface?" one of the blonde guys asked, lean body resting against his bike, his eyes looking you up and down with a crooked smile.

"Are you alright?" the tall brunette inquired, his concerned gaze taking in the slight shake of your hands.

You wrung them together nervously, risking a glance back at the crowd. It directed their attention behind you, and they immediately noticed the dark figure lurking nearby, clearly turned in your direction. You hoped that the sight of the four boys would cause him to hesitate, but it seemed like the prospect of passing up his chance made him reckless, as he started to move towards you again.

You took a few steps back, colliding with a solid body. You flinched when two big hands took hold of your shoulder, steadying you on your feet. Looking up, your eyes met warm brown ones, the brunette sending you a small, reassuring smile.

"H-he's stalking me." The words stumbled out of your mouth before you've even realized. "He's been following me and my friends, and now I got separated from them, and couldn't find them anywhere and then he started chasing me," you rambled on, your breath hitching as you watched him approach.

The grip on your shoulders tightened, the boys exchanging silent looks, before they took action. The blond who first spoke to you and the shorter one hopped on their bikes, revving their engines and moving in front of you, essentially creating a shield of flesh and blood and steel between you and the creep. This finally made him stop, hands clenching and unclenching in silent frustration.

"Hey, dude, fuck off," the shorter one shouted over.

It only made him even more agitated, but he still didn't leave. It's not like he could fight off all four of them if it came down to it, however that didn't seem to matter to him right now. His sheer determination to harm you – because you had no doubt that that's what was going to happen if he got his hands on you – made you even more terrified.

That's when the last boy made his move. He didn't say anything until now, quietly assessing the situation from the background and letting his friends deal with it. But now he was walking forward, his movements filled with confidence and a sureness you've only hoped to possess. There was something dangerous about it, how calm he was, and as he passed you, you could have sworn you saw the features of his face change. The next second he was already in front of you, your eyes glued to his back as he stepped between the two bikes and stopped at a short distance from the creep.

He slowly brought his cigarette to his lips and blew out a lazy stream of smoke.

"I think you should go."

That was all he said, his voice cold as he – you assumed – looked deep in the eyes of your pursuer. You had no idea what the creep saw on him, but it was enough to make him falter, taking back a few hasty steps before straight up running off.

When he turned back around, there was nothing unusual about him, he looked exactly like he did a few minutes ago. He came up to you with a smirk on his scruffy face, and in the most nonchalant voice he said,

"He's not gonna bother you anymore."

You faintly registered the two blondes behind him grinning at each other, giggling and mocking how the guy ran like a baby. You were too busy with the feeling of your face burning up from the intense gaze of the boy in front of you.

He took one of your hands in his glowed one, and you watched in a daze as he brought it to his lips, kissing your knuckles.

"I'm David, and these are my boys. Pleasure to meet you," he said, his voice doing funny things to your stomach. You stuttered out your name in return, and his grin widened at your reaction.

He introduced the other three. Dwayne flashing you a lopsided smile, Marko giving you a small wave and Paul sending a wink your way. You jumped when Paul suddenly threw his arm around your shoulder, and with a tone that was definitely flirty he asked,

"How about you stay with us for the rest of the night, hm, sugar? Just to make sure the dude doesn't come back."

You looked at each one of them, their good looks and easy smiles and the danger in their eyes making your heart flutter. Oh, they were definitely trouble. But interestingly enough, you had a feeling that their company was the safest place you could be in the whole of Santa Carla. You've found yourself agreeing before you've even realized.

As Marko took hold of your hand to show you his bike, you felt yourself finally relax. You couldn't wait to tell your friends all about it.

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[ramgirlpaul]

Another day for you to realize me...

[javelinbk]

On this day in 1969, Paul McCartney tortured two men at once

Paul McCartney, Denis O'Dell and Robert Fraser during recording sessions for Let It Be, 23rd January 1969

Paul flirting with Denis O’Dell, trousers unbuttoned (so he doesn’t ’scratch his guitar’), arse in the air, while Robert Fraser waits patiently for them to ‘go home’, Paul making it up to him with a hand on his arm…

Sounds about right

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

Some more crossover interactions between Stan and the tf2 mercs because they are so silly to me :]

More of this au here and here

To summarize: he got hired as Mann. Co's grunt / errand boy alongside Miss Pauling, and he usually just follows her around helping her out with her tasks and stuff. He got hired when he randomly bumped into Miss Pauling at some drug cartel they both happened to be at, and somehow they manged to run away AND bust the cartel together on the same day.

He sometimes have to go talk with the mercs himself instead of Miss Pauling when she's busy, and over time he gets inadvertently sucked into the found family. He can never escape now, he just has to accept his fate.

Since he's technically the youngest out of them all, I think the mercs like to tease him a lot about his age (especially Scout. He is overjoyed he isn't the youngest in the team anymore). They drag him into a lot of their shenanigans, and for once he has to act Iike the straight man in the group because everyone around him is absolutely batshit insane.