It Won't Be Long:
proof that John would be happier if he were dating me (and not dead)
All I've Got to Do:
1963, second song on With the Beatles, nonfiction--all Lennon needed to do was whisper in someone's ear.
All My Loving:
my dad loves this song
Don't Bother Me:
George keeps saying he'll let me know when she's come home... as if I'm not flirting with him right now...
I have fond memories of skipping this song (so why do I know all the words)
Till There Was You:
what people sing when they hear the Beatles for the first time
Please Mr. Postman:
1963, seventh song on With the Beatles, fiction--all Lennon needed to do was, "call [her] on the phone, and [she'll] come running home." (citation: "All I've Got to Do", Lennon-McCartney)
Roll Over Beethoven:
jammin', but inherently flawed because Beethoven was a rocker
You Really Got A Hold On Me:
what people sing when they hear the Beatles for the second time
I Wanna Be Your Man:
that's what literally everyone wants
Devil in Her Heart:
George gets 3 songs on this album and he doesn't get that much love again until Revolver, 5 albums after this one
Not A Second Time:
finding out Paul had another band after the Beatles
Money (That's What I Want):
that's what he wants
The Beatles' heads get progressively smaller...
Not my gif. Gif credit goes to the amazing creators.
Anonymous said:Is it okay if we send in like sentences for you guys to turn into One-shots / imagines? If so can you do one with “last time you said you had a surprise for me I ended up pregnant” With Paul? If not you can just ignore this message 😅
A/N: Omfg this is gold! Where the hecky did you even think of this? I stated before, I literally spat my Coke out the other night when I saw this one and my mum gave me a weird look. But anyway, thank you so much for blessing us with this request! I hope that I’ve made this everything you imagined, lovely! - Admin Kat 💟
Imagine: Paul declaring that he has a surprise for you and you just respond with “The last time you had a surprise for me, I ended up pregnant!”.
Ambling in through your front door, you were ambushed by your conspicuous husband whom leaned against the banister that belonged to the stairs. There was an ardent and mischievous tint to his beautiful brown orbs that only seemed to spell out… trouble.
As though you had hardly noticed, you cut through to the left, - directly ignoring the clear message that Paul Lahote, your husband, desperately wanted your attention -, and into the safety of the kitchen you were… or so you thought.
“So, how was work, babe?” Paul came striding in after you, hot on your trail, as though you were the sun and he were a planet propelling around you; attracted to the very warm rays that you projected.
“Just cut to the chase, baby. I didn’t have to deal with my ass-hat of a boss today to come home to you plotting and conniving behind my back.” you stated as you retrieved an orange from the kitchen counter before promptly turning to face your hunk of a husband; to which, he stopped shortly before he slammed into you. “So, if you have something to say, just come right out and say it. None of this ‘spontaneous’ and ‘out of the blue’ crap. Okay?” You emphasized with your famous Hand Quotations.
It seemed that the very words he wished to state were robbed from his very throat and tongue. “Well, since you’re putting it that way…” he grins out nonchalantly, leaning against the kitchen counter and looming over you.
It was within an instant that his large asperous fingers dauntlessly tickled beneath the hem of your top, tracing loving circles that could not be seen by the mere human eye. His eyes were entirely entranced with what seemed to be playing on out in his head, but you didn’t seem to be catching on.
“Can you get to the point, baby? I’ve got Supernatural and Pretty Little Liars to catch up on and you’re taking up myprecioustime.” you grinned up at him, knowing very well that this was digging into his skin.
A wolfish grin flashed across his features as he dipped his head down to your ear. “I have a surprise for you.” Those were his words, breathed seductively into your ear, and although they melted every cell in your body to a puddle, you saw through this: And your own toothy grin beamed across your expression.
“The last time that you had a surprise for me, I ended up pregnant!” you declared loud and clear in his ear. “I’m appreciative of the surprise, but it’s not really one any more; and besides, Our little cute brat is just enough for me right now. So, unless you’re bagging on binge watching Supernatural with me, I think you should take care of your little issue.” you hummed up to him, your hand rubbing his arm as you took a peek downwards.
In all the time the pair of you had been together, Paul had never been so stunned… or so quiet.
Please keep requesting imagines! If you like it, please follow for more.
I remained polite and walked him [Paul Stanley] out. I think he wanted to get away from me because I was asking him all these goofy obsessive fan-type questions about Kiss. Then finally, at the elevator, I impulsively lifted up my shirt and said, “Who do you think has a hairier chest, me or you?” and he was like, “Well, I do, of course.” He said it in such a snobby-ass way, I thought, “Oh well, you can have it.”