;jesus christ walks into a hotel

Animal (Sebastian Stan x Reader)

Originally posted by mebeingbored1

Prompt: Could I request some smutty Seb? Possibly with some handcuffs involved now that everyone is discussing his kinks… ;) Love you!

I’m the handcuff anon, i forgot to add the romanian part. Please please PLEASE. I need some smutty romanian speaking Seb in my life.

Omg please write a story with Sebastian speaking Romanian! Idc if it’s smut or fluff, but I’m addicted to these kind of stories. And you’re the definitely the coolest author ever, so I know it will be perfect! 👌💜

A/N: Don’t say I don’t deliver because…ladies…I have DELIVERED. This one has been a bitch to write because I’ve had literally no time, but these new pictures of Seb have sparked a fire in me- half lust, half jealousy that people are there and I am not- and now I’ve written a 4k smut fest. REJOICE. Stay hydrated, prepare your underwear- it’s about to get hot in here. Thanks to the anons who requested this!

Romanian used (I do not speak Romanian, so if it’s wrong, it’s wrong)

Draga mea- My darling
Mă duc să-ți strice această seară , draga mea- I’m going to ruin you tonight, my darling. 
Sunteţi frumoasă- You are beautiful 
Iarta-mi pacatele- Forgive me my sins 
Deschide- Open. 
Legat- tied up
Tu ești o fată bună- You’re a good girl
O astfel de frumos tâţe…isus hristos esti strans- Such beautiful tits- Jesus Christ you’re tight. 
Știam că ți-a plăcut dur- I knew you liked it rough
Vei să vii frumos și greu pentru mine, pisoi- You come nice and hard for me, Kitten
Te rog, te rog- Please, Please
Fată bună, fată bună, pisoi- Good girl, good girl, Kitten
Te ador- I adore you. 

Keep reading

Request: Hi. Omg your smut imagine was amazing Whenever you have time, could you write something smutty please about the reader and Jack? Any situation you like. Thank you

And: Hi, could you write something about Jack where he’s dancing wth the reader? I would welcome sexual tension!haha!!!

A/N: I combined these two requests cause I had an idea :)


For months there had been a growing sexual tension between you and Jack Lowden, everyone on the cast and crew of Dunkirk could sense it.

It all started when your cousin, Tom Glynn Carney, got you a job as a stunt coordinator for Dunkirk. You’d always wanted to work on a large scale set, and Christopher Nolans set was enormous.

You met the boys right before shooting started, going out to the pub with Tom and the rest of them. Jack and you immediately clicked, playfully flirting every chance you got.

It drove Tom nuts at first, but now he was more chill about it. He liked Jack, so he wouldn’t mind him making a move on his cousin.

Everyone was waiting anxiously for the two of you to finally get together. The tension had everyone on edge.

Tonight you were all going out to a local dance club after Harry had questioned how they had danced back in the 1940s. You quickly found out that there was a bar downtown, and every Friday night they had swing nights.

The boys instantly wanted to go.

So here you all were, drinking and dancing the night away. The fast paced jazz songs were so much fun, and you often found yourself laughing at some of the guys.

You were feeling pretty tipsy when the music slowed down, transitioning into a slow song. Jack was instantly in front of you, asking for a dance. The other guys were whooping as Jack pulled you away, causing you to giggle.

He placed one of your hands on his shoulder, holding the other in his. His empty hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him. The two of you swayed softly to the music for a while, completely unaware of the world around you.

When there was a change in the music, Jack spun you out of his arms, and then back in. Your back was now to his chest, holding onto his arms that were wrapped around your chest.

“Ye look so beautiful tonigh’.” Jack whispered in your ear, lips peppering kisses down your neck and along your strapless shoulder. You shivered against him, quickly turning around to face him.

As you stared up at him, you suddenly couldn’t take the tension anymore. Reaching a hand up, you pulled his neck down to yours and placed your lips against his.

He immediately responded, hands gripping your hips as he pulled you closer. You both moaned at the ecstasy of finally tasting one another, both having wanted each other for so long.

The kiss soon led to a heated make out session on the middle of the dance floor, but neither of you seemed to care.

“I wan’ ye.” Jack mumbled moments later, nose skimming against your jawline. “I’ve wanted ye from the moment I met ye.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” You asked, hand trailing slowly down his stomach and towards the waist of his pants. Jack shivered, a gleam of lust in his eyes, before he was grabbing your hand and pulling you off the dance floor.

“All o’ those guys were watchin’ ye in there. It’s time fer me to show ye who ye belong to.” Jack purred as you both exited the pub, causing you to nearly collapse to the ground. “Yer not goin’ to be able to walk when I’m done with ye.”

“Jesus Christ.” You whispered, heart racing as you began walking faster. “You keep this up and I won’t even be able to make it back to the hotel.”

“Maybe that’s the plan.” He mumbled into your ear, causing you to walk even faster. He chuckled behind you, knowing exactly what he was doing to you.

As soon as the two of you crashed into his hotel room, you slammed him against the door and pressed fiery kisses to his lips. His hips bucked against yours, causing a knot to grow in your stomach.

You quickly pushed Jack backwards towards his bed, him kissing you senselessly. Damn was he a good kisser.

His knees hit the side of the bed, causing him to sit on the edge. You quickly straddled him, causing his neck to fall backwards as he stretched up to remain in control of the kiss.

Jack tugged against your shirt, asking for permission, which you gave. He quickly pulled it off, hands rubbing up and down your sides. He looked at you appreciatively, before his mouth moved to attack your neck once again.

“You can’t even imagine how long I’ve waited for this.” Jack murmured, lips trailing across your collarbone. You quickly got to work on his button up shirt, ripping off the buttons and pushing the shirt over his shoulders.

“Believe me, I’ve been waiting just as long.” You breathed out, fingers trailing over his hard abs. The next moment Jack was unclasping your bra, throwing it over his shoulder. His mouth instantly attacked one of your breasts, causing your head to fall back as you let out a moan.

His other hand was tracing slowly up your thigh, pushing under the fabric of your jeans. Your hands were gripping onto his shoulders, leaving nail marks when his teeth tugged at your nipple.

Soon Jack was pulling away from you, sliding you towards the end of the bed. He quickly knelt in front of you, lifting your hips so he could pull the jeans off.

“Yer so fuckin’ gorgeous.” He praised, pausing a moment to take in the sight of your naked body. You flushed, causing him to smirk.

His lips left kisses on your inner thighs, slowly working his way up to the place where you needed him most.

“Jack, please.” You begged, the teasing becoming too much. He glanced up at you briefly, a hungry daze to his eyes, before his tongue dove into your folds.

Hands moving to his soft blond hair, you pulled him closer to you as your hips bucked against his mouth. He in turn chuckled, causing you to moan as the vibrations sent a wave of pleasure up your spine.

One of his hands lifted your leg over his shoulder, giving him better access. His tongue was tracing patterns over your bundle of nerves, while he slipped one finger inside of you. He began pumping, causing an array of curses to leave your mouth.

“Fucking hell Jack. If I had known you were this good with your tongue and hands, I would have done this a lot sooner.”

Moments after the words left your mouth, he slipped another finger inside and quickly made a scissoring motion. Your back was arching at the feeling, finger scratching through his hair as your first orgasm sped towards you quickly.

Jack sensed this, a hand coming up to knead your breast. You let out a strangled sound, your pleasure beginning to overwhelm you.

“Jack, I’m gonna come.” You panted, eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy.

“Let go love, come fer me.” At his words, your orgasm hit you like a truck. You screamed out at the feeling, pleasure like never before rocking through your body. Jack coaxed you through your orgasm, sucking up all of your juices.

Once finished, his face moved up towards yours again, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

“Suck.” He demanded, placing his two fingers in your mouth. You immediately complied, moaning at the taste of yourself on him.

“Ye like tha’, don’ ye baby girl?” Jack growled, before replacing his fingers with his tongue. You could feel his bulge pressing against your leg, so you quickly sprung into action.

You pushed him onto the bed, straddling his waist as you trailed kisses down his bare chest.

Your hands instantly went to work on his pants, pulling the zipper down and tearing both the pants and boxers down his legs. He kicked them the rest of the way off, and you admired the size of him for a moment.

One of your hands went to his member, a thumb trailing over the slit. He twitched against your hand, but then he was quickly stopping you as he flipped you over so he was on top.

“We’ll have time fer tha’ later. I need to be inside o’ ye. Now.” He groaned, member sliding against your entrance.

“Then do it.” You challenged, rolling your hips against his. He moaned, before he quickly grabbed a condom and rolled it on. He slid down on you, pausing just over your entrance.

“Are ye sure?” He questioned, a hesitant look in his eyes.

“Of course I’m sure Jack. Now stop talking and start fucking me.” You demanded, and he was instantly turned on by your tone. Waisting no more time, he slipped himself into you.

“Bloody hell, yer so tigh’ fer me darlin’.” Jack grunted, pushing deeper into you. When Jack noticed you wince slightly at the pain, he froze. “Are ye alrigh’ love? Am I hurtin’ ye?”

“I’m fine Jack. It’s just been a while.” You explained, face relaxing as the pleasure overtook the pain. “Now, move.” You demanded again, causing him to grin devilishly.

“As me lady commands.” He pulled out of you and simultaneously slammed back in, causing you to scream out his name. He maintained a slow pace, driving you mad.

“Faster!” You groaned, bucking your hips up to meet his thrusts.

“Be patient baby girl.” Jack teased, face coming down to press kisses against your throat. He slowed his pace, torturing you even more.

“Move faster, daddy.” You taunted, and Jack froze on top of you. He pulled his face away, staring down at you with wild eyes.

“Wha’ did ye call me?” He asked, his voice deeper than you had ever heard it.

“Daddy.” You said again, biting your lip as you looked at him from underneath your lashes. He full on growled at you, slamming back into you.

His thrusts became wild, fingers slipping into your mouth to quiet your moans.

“Daddy’s goin’ to show his little girl exactly wha’ happens when she’s impatient.” You were surprised that he had a daddy kink, but you found yourself becoming more turned on by it.

What followed was the most mind blowing orgasm you had ever experienced. Jack followed soon after you, your name falling from his lips repeatedly like a prayer. He rolled over next to you, both of your chests heaving as you tried to catch your breaths.

“Let’s hold off on telling my cousin for a while, he might not like the idea of us having sex without going on a date first.” You told him later that night, fingers tracing patterns over his bare chest as he held you close to his side.

“He’ll get over it. I plan on there bein’ a lot more o’ this in the future, dates as well o’ course.” Jack murmured, pressing kisses to your shoulder.

“So you don’t plan on this being a one time thing?” You asked him curiously, after all you had been a little worried about that.

“Far from it.” He told you, but then a mischievous glint took over his eyes. “In fact, how do ye feel about round two?”

Needless to say, neither of you got much sleep that night.

The Day Of

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 902

Warnings: Swearing, EXTREME FLUFF

A/N: Here is Week 9, and the seventh installment of the Morning After Series, for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing’s SPN Hiatus Writing Challenge! I am very sorry that I have not been active recently, this month has been, hectic, to say the least and I haven’t really been feeling like myself. So thank you guys for sticking with me, hopefully I will be able to continue this. Unbeta’d and unedited. This isn’t very good… I’m sorry.


To say you were nervous would be the understatement of the year. Your stomach was twisted into knots, your hands were shaking and you were starting to break into a cold sweat.

“Don’t look so petrified,” Briana said from behind you, making you jump.

You turned around, a hand on your heart, “Jesus Christ, Bri.”

Briana chuckled, “Sorry.”

Keep reading


I hope the fact that this is the longest thing I’ve ever written makes up for the fact I’m pretty sure it was the first thing I ever had requested. Even if it did, it’s cancelled out by the fact that this is horrible. 
Pairing: Naomi/Female Reader 
Words: 2350+
Warnings: Female/Female Smut, OOC?, Horrible writing.
Tag List: @wwetrashqueen @tvrnbvckle @thebutterflygirl16 @thephenomenonalkingofthebrogues @hardcorewwetrash @amysdumas
Request: “Your gxg imagines are so good!!! Could you write a Naomi x reader smut where they’re best friends but Naomi gets v jealous, leading to rough sex, multiple orgasms & overstimulation? Tysm!!”

Keep reading

THE F@#! I’M DOING ** Justin Bieber Imagine (pt. 2)

Read part 1  ↤

“Jesus Christ, who cares what you sa—?” She raised her voice trying to interrupt him but got cut off by him once again. “I care! And you can’t be mad at me for not knowing what’s the best for you!” He exclaimed looking straight into her eyes.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Um like Morty just wanting to snuggle rick and Rick getting annoyed but gives in and sorry I suck at requests

i rly like this one and its been in my inbox for like 10 million years i’m sry 2 everyone who sent me requests omg !!! also i’m gonna make morty drunk and also make it super dark because i love pain and being in pain

Morty was waiting for Rick to come home, bitterly taking long pulls from a bottle of alien vodka he found in the garage. He looked around his room, wondering how the fuck he’d let it escalate like this. Stupid asshole left him waiting all fucking day, went off on his own without Morty just because last time Morty had had to save Rick from dying but in the process had to break about 15 of Rick’s 3 rules. He was being punished. Like a fucking 12 year old. Morty made a disgusted face at the thought and took another deep swig to drown it out. He didn’t even cringe at the taste anymore, just passively drank what tasted like nail varnish and slurred harsh, stuttering insults to someone who wasn’t there. Morty stumbled trying to get up, making his way to Rick’s room, getting about halfway before realizing Rick wasn’t in his room, dipshit, that’s the whole point. Morty blushed at his own drunken mistake, but pushed forward anyways, feeling like a total asshole. He made it to the soft twin mattress alive, barely conscious but alive, and plopped down, safe and warm and it smelled like Rick; stale cigarettes, booze, and hotel soap. Morty inhaled a little, rolling over onto his stomach and clutching at Rick’s pillow, curling up with it, waiting for Rick to get home so he could really give him a piece of his mind. 


Morty woke up about 20 minutes later to Rick’s loud, “Jesus Christ, M-m-eugh-orty.” He opened his eyes. Rick was in the doorframe, had hardly even walked in the door when the smell of Eurinithian alcohol hit him like a wall. He squinted at Morty, a little pissed that he’d taken such top shelf shit to complete this little temper tantrum. The kid looked bad. Like, really bad. It took him a full 5 seconds to stop stuttering and get out whatever insult he was trying to slur semi-menacingly at Rick, the deep circles under his eyes and sickly sweat collecting at his brow not doing him any favors. Rick looked passively at Morty. Fucking asshole. Stupid kid almost got himself killed the night before and throws a hissy fit the next day when he can’t go on a fucking drug deal. What an asshole. Rick narrowed his eyes and leaned against the door, arms crossed, impatiently waiting for Morty’s incoherent rant to come to a close. “D-don’t appreciate, yknow-y-y-y, you don’t even care how much I care!” Morty’s resolve broke easily. His eyes filled with tears, again. Rick rolled his eyes and sighed. This again. “I-i-i’ve been thinking, /Rick/, I’m probably not even your first Morty!” Rick raised his eyebrows at that, caught off guard. This was a new one. Morty continued, encouraged by the shock that he’d seen pass over Rick’s face. “Y-you probably just, y-you don’t even care about me, do you? I-I’m so replaceable, y-you just,” Morty had started crying for real this time, deep sobs punctuating every syllable. “Y-you just don’t give a s-shit about me.” Morty looked frustrated with his lack of adequate vocabulary, frustrated that he couldn’t articulate the way he was feeling and frustrated that even if he could it wouldn’t change a fucking thing. Rick had had enough. He crossed over to the bed slowly, not wanting Morty to have another outburst. The kid had his face in his hands, sobbing earnestly. Rick rubbed his back and hummed a little tone of acknowledgement when Morty started to calm down, sobs turning into little hiccups, steely posture going limp against Rick’s touch. Rick pulled him close, embracing him for a long moment. He could feel the shock run through Morty as he maneuvered them so they were laying facing each other on their sides, Morty’s head tucked beneath Rick’s chin. Rick kissed his forehead, noting how sweaty and gross his grandson was, making a mental note to get up earlier than this little asshole so he could put something together for the inevitably monstrous hangover he would have later. Rick listened to Morty’s hiccups slow, then stop, then the deep sounds of his breathing. “You’re not replaceable, you asshole.” Rick mumbled against his forehead, arms squeezing tighter around him. Morty’s breath hitched for a moment before he squeezed tighter around Rick too, not wanting to let go and give Rick a chance to back out. He looked up at Rick, who looked down at him with the same unimpressed expression he gave him every day. “You’re not. You think I’d give a shit about your safety if you were replaceable?” Morty’s eyes filled with tears again and he looked down to avoid eye contact, pressing his face to the corner of Rick’s neck and shoulder, resting his forehead and trying not to notice how close his lips were to Rick’s collarbone. He let himself relax, lips slightly parted as they met skin. Rick tensed a little at the feeling, clearly trying to decide what to do, and to Morty’s relief eased back into the embrace, allowing Morty to pretend he was being clever. Rick swallowed around the lump in his throat. “You can’t keep doing this.” Morty pretended he didn’t hear. Rick let him. 

Are You Serious?! [Requested]

Jay Park x You Scenario

Request: Can you do a scenario for Jay Park where you like him but your really good friends so you don’t tell him but you start to get annoyed with him cause he won’t shut up about this girl and they end up in an argument and neither are willing to back down. Thank you!


TW: cursing

Word Count: 1667

By: Admin G (with some help from Admin H)

Authors’ note: 
We had a lot of fun writing this. Sorry for the long wait. Thanks for requesting!! By the way, Y/N is a girl, but if you do not identify as a woman, plz message us and we’ll change it immediately~

Originally posted by korean-hip-hop

“Which flowers do you think she would like?” Jay asks you as if you cared. 

“How should I know, I don’t know her,” you curtly responded.

You and Jay were extremely good friends, seeing as you two had grown up in Washington state since middle school together. As you approached adulthood, you had to part ways. Where Jay had become an idol in the group 2PM, and you went to school and created a successful career for yourself. You both had tried to keep in touch with each other, but hectic schedules and your regular lives in two different countries got in the way.

As you two neared the end of your 20s, Jay Park had become a perverted (which he always was) rapper/singer, and the founder and co-CEO of a k-hip-hop/k-RnB record label called AOMG. You had become a successful (put dream occupation here). Things were going pretty great for you. Even when you did lose connection

Keep reading

longenoughtimeline  asked:

Could you give me like a guide to Bob Dylan? I've heard Highway 61 Revisited and loved it but I dunno where to start from there, his discography is massive.

yes, yes I can. and this is a wonderful day for you to start, seeing as how Dylan has just won the Nobel Prize in literature “for having created new poetic expressions within the great american song tradition.” the committee who awarded it to him placed him explicitly in step with the greatest poets of the english language, from milton and blake, to eliot and auden, to whitman and yes, shakespeare. I agree with them. I have always agreed with them. 

so let me give you the walk through; I’ve covered 14 of his 36 albums here. I call them

the essentials

  • the freewheeling bob dylan (1963) - technically this is his second album, but it’s where Dylan as we conceive of him in this particular era was born: the social conscience, the voice of a generation, the passionate and strangely poetic young lover. he’s righteous, full of youth and conviction, and already carving an indelible place for himself within the folk scene. you could consider this a companion to 1964′s the times they are a’changin’; both are acoustic, both challenge the status quo and the political complacency of the Greatest Generation. when you pull this up in spotify, just take a moment to look at the tracks; at least five would become immediately synonymous with that period in history, the lyrics as iconic as the black and white newsreels you watch in your first semester of high school social studies. he was twenty-two years old. 
    • key tracks: “blowin’ in the wind”, “a hard rain’s a-gonna fall”, “masters of war”, “don’t think twice, it’s all right”, “girl from the north country”
  • bringing it all back home (1965) - the longer you listen to Dylan, the more you will realize one thing: he hates to be told what he is. he hates even more to be told what you think he is. the early sixties saw him placed at the forefront of the anti-war movement, and he bridled at it. from the first ragged chords, bringing it all back home is a snarl of an album, a defiant fuck you of “going electric”, as his angry folk detractors called it, with the lyrics swerving personal in places, surreal in others. “subterranean homesick blues” was an early forerunner to both the music video and spoken-word music (whether it’s a true precursor to rap, as it’s sometimes said to be, is debatable), and “mr. tambourine man” displays the free-association imagery that would have people drawing comparisons to the french poet Rimbaud. 
    • key tracks: “mr. tambourine man”, “subterranean homesick blues”, “maggie’s farm”, “it’s all right ma, I’m only bleeding”, “bob dylan’s 115th dream”
  • highway 61 revisted (1965) - an album that’s often argued to have ushered in the american cultural conception of “the sixties”. purely electric, with rock musicians on every track, Dylan dives into his blues background and knots the deep, warbling chords to a constantly-deepening sense of his own strange poetry. the country was transforming, tearing at itself to grow, and Dylan’s lyrics reflect the chaos, eschatological strangeness, and wry, black humor of the world he saw around him. “desolation row” is a little like Ginsburg’s “howl”, just–smirking, with its feet up. journalists really wanted to know the man behind the music at this stage in his career, and Dylan was just dreadful about it. he sat for press conferences and gave cryptic answers, got into shit with reporters, wrote diss tracks (”ballad of a thin man”), and talked about his future career in women’s underwear. when prompted, he describes his work as “vision music”. the Dylan you know, the Dylan with the wild mop of hair, and the coathanger shoulders, wearing sunglasses so you can’t see how fucking high he is? this is that Dylan. 
    • key tracks: “like a rolling stone”, “desolation row”, “ballad of a thin man”, “highway 61 revisited”, “tombstone blues”
  • blonde on blonde (1966) - yeah, take a look at the time stamps of the last three albums. just think about that for a second. blonde on blonde has repeatedly been described as one of the greatest albums of all time, and for Dylan it was one of three, an absolute string of homers in which he defined himself as a poet, a musician, and a quintessentially american figure in what was then an unknowable future. the songs here are truly, achingly romantic, tempered with glittering, sometimes bizarre detail and turns of phrase. there are songs in here that I listened to for years, trying to imagine what it would be like to feel about someone, anyone, the way Dylan feels for the girl in “I want you”. his poetry lands with striking beauty on this album, and tastes as good on your lips as it sounds in your ears and in your chest: “the ghost of electricity / howls in the bones of her face”. 
    • key tracks: “I Want You”, “Sad-Eyed Lady of the Lowlands”, “Visions of Johanna”, “Stuck Inside of Mobile With the Memphis Blues Again”, “Just Like a Woman”
  • john wesley harding (1967) - the Bible begins seeping unmistakably into his work here, not in a spiritual sense, but as a language, an ancient morality. he would refer to a King James edition often while writing, and the album contains over sixty biblical allusions in total, often hidden or twisted in on themselves. the worlds he painted in his lyrics became more self-contained, and could sustain odd, archetypal characters: the thief, the outlaw, the joker, the dangerous, unearthly damsel. a few songs could even be described as parables, but with dark, shrugging morals. in “I dreamed I saw st. augustine” a vision becomes a fable about mob mentality, and the smothering of what a crowd adores or can’t approach on their own terms. 
    • key tracks: “john wesley harding”, “all along the watchtower”, “as I went out one morning”, “the ballad of frankie lee and judas priest”, “the wicked messenger”
  • self portrait (1970) - so you know how I said Dylan didn’t like to be pigeonholed? he also didn’t like having a lot of people looking up to him, hanging on his every word. he didn’t like walking out of his house to fans, or acolytes. he wanted them to forget about him and let him work. so he recorded self portrait. it’s not particularly good. in places it’s actually directly, intentionally dull and vapid, with the sound of a shitty bootleg. he painted the cover himself, in five minutes. later in life he recalled: “I wasn’t going to be anyone’s puppet and I thought this album would put an end to that.” it’s—not a great listen, particularly, but it really grants perspective. sometimes the best way to see the lightning in a bottle is to see its absence. 
    • key tracks: the recovered version of “like a rolling stone”, “living the blues”
  • blood on the tracks (1975) - I…have a difficult time being objective about blood on the tracks. I have sort of a difficult time even talking about blood on the tracks. this is–my album, every single song tears at my heart, it feels like a well-worn paperback of poetry, with faded, dog-eared covers, black in the margins with my notes over the years. I adore it. it’s widely seen as Dylan’s return to form after a stubborn few years, and may track his separation from his first wife, but god, who cares. it’s a bruising, clear-eyed, angry, lonesome series of songs, all turning on matters of the heart. women destined in our narrator’s life, women disappearing and returning, bank robberies and hangings as a metaphor for vanishing last chances, sneering refutations of every argument, and finally, a tender, melancholy ode to what it feels like to be safe in someone’s arms. 
    • key tracks: all of them. I’m not joking. please listen to this album from start to finish. it’s a gift. 
  • desire (1976) - with blood on the tracks and desire, it became very clear that Dylan was not an artist tethered to the 60s. he shaped that decade and then left it; he didn’t need that cultural atmosphere to create, instead continued to walk lightly along whatever streets wound through his mind. that being said, Dylan’s keen eye for injustice never left him, particularly racial injustice; on desire he digs sharply into the story of middleweight boxer Rubin Carter, a black man falsely accused of murder and jailed for the same. Carter sent Dylan his biography, and the song “hurricane” was born. it remains depressingly relevant. 
    • key tracks: “hurricane”, “joey”, “romance in durango”, “isis”
  • slow train coming (1979) // saved (1980) // shot of love (1981) - in 1978, Dylan had a vision of Jesus Christ in a hotel room in Tuscon. he was coming off some brutal reviews of his last album/documentary hybrid, and was unsteady on his feet at a San Diego concert. someone in the crowd threw a silver cross onto the stage. Dylan pocketed it, and then, late at night in the next town, “the glory of the Lord knocked me down and picked me up.” his next three albums were meditations, psalms and anthems to his Christian rebirth, and together constitute some truly beautiful, vibrant, american religious songwriting. I have the album art from slow train coming on the wall in my bedroom.
    •   key tracks: “every grain of sand”, “property of jesus”, “gotta serve somebody”, “slow train”, “shot of love”
  • infidels (1983) - Dylan’s best poetry uses allusion and wordplay to wreathe the listener in ambiguity. not always emotional ambiguity, but true spiritual suggestion; words that you should know, concepts you half remember, images that tease at old and hidden strings in your cultural/human memory. who are these characters, why are they familiar, why does this turn of phrase reverberate? what does it mean to say these words to a woman, to feel so clearly what’s being felt in Dylan’s voice? infidels (and particularly the track “jokerman”, a masterpiece) is an album for those sorts of questions. considered a return to form after his religious releases, a twisty, multi-layered, sometimes sad, sometimes witheringly sarcastic piece that follows everything from a political antichrist to a tender reunion of two lovers. Dylan wouldn’t speak much on religion from this album forward, saying that he found his peace and spirituality in his music and writing, no more, no less. however, that didn’t stop him from sharpening his writing to a point on “neighborhood bully”, a spirited defense of the nation of Israel. 
    • key tracks: “jokerman”, “don’t fall apart on me tonight”, “man of peace”, “I and I”, “neighborhood bully”
  • oh mercy (1989) - a small, aging, apocalyptic album, particularly in the latter half. there’s something elegiac here, songs about lost people the narrator used to be, or worlds crumbling away into flood.  oh mercy isn’t one of Dylan’s most vaunted works, but contains lovely poetry and sweet, rich production, strung through with foreboding and a slow, inevitable crash. 
    • key tracks: “man in the long black coat”, “most of the time”, “what good am I” “disease of conceit” “shooting star” 
  • time out of mind (1997) - the 90s were a struggle for Dylan; he wasn’t producing much original work, and often wondered if there was a point when “a person has written enough songs. let someone else write them.” luckily, he never reached that point. time out of mind was released in september of 1997, and may be his strongest showing since infidels. it’s moody, reflective; Dylan lets his poetry slow and turn in the mind of the listener like a true romantic. in fact, his “not dark yet” has been cited as a modern reflection of Keats’s ode to a nightingale: a writer beautifully bearing the burden of mortality and making his way towards what’s waiting. 
    • key tracks: “not dark yet”, “love sick”, “trying to get to heaven”, “cold irons bound”
  • love and theft (2001) - runaways, con men, preachers, blues singers, gamblers, devils and outlaws have always occupied American folksongs, and Dylan has always been a folk writer, if not a singer. he makes the most of these characters here, against the backdrop of a declining south, draped with shadow and laughing madness. it’s one of the most indelibly American albums ever recorded, and was hailed as a work of genius, Dylan’s “immortality album.” 
    •   key tracks: “tweedle dee & tweedle dum”, “floater”, “high water (for charlie patton)”, “honest with me”, “sugar baby”
  • tempest (2012) - a deliberate, sharp-toothed, unearthly outing, tempest is weird, and wants to be. in his old age Dylan has exhaled into the inherent strangeness of Americana, and put his own stamp on old old traditions. he’s become the archetype that other people invoke. this album was widely praised, particularly for its mysterious nature, and Dylan’s continuing delight in allusion. it’s continuing evidence that age doesn’t diminish a poet, just gives him deeper, darker wells to peer down. 
    • key tracks: “narrow way”, “scarlet town”, “early roman kings”, “pay in blood”, “tempest”


I would say I envy your first listen to these albums, but…I’m not sure I do. I mean, they’re stunning, but one of the great beauties of Dylan’s work is its depth and richness: it never stops unfurling. so–welcome, I guess. love it or hate it, it’s unlikely you’ll ever shake his work completely. 

'The Crow' Quote Meme
  • Send in a quote to see how my muse reacts!
  • "Can't rain all the time... "
  • "Buildings burn, people die, but real love is forever."
  • "I thought the police always said, "Freeze!""
  • "You move, you're dead."
  • "Quick impression for you: Caw! Caw! Bang! Fuck, I'm dead! "
  • "Mother is the name for God on the lips and hearts of all children."
  • "Nothing is trivial. "
  • "Victims; aren't we all? "
  • "Is that gasoline I smell? "
  • "Don't you ever fuckin' die?"
  • "Jesus Christ walks into a hotel. He hands the innkeeper three nails and he asks 'can you put me up for the night?'"
  • "There ain't no coming back. This is the really real world, there ain't no coming back."
  • "Greed is for amateurs. Disorder, chaos, anarchy: now that's fun! "
  • "Take your shot, ______. You got me dead bang."
  • "Well, at least he didn't do that walking against the wind shit, I hate that."
  • "Childhood's over the moment you know you're gonna die."
  • "They're all dead. They just don't know it yet."
  • "So many cops, you'd think they're giving away donuts."
  • "Do I bow or do I curtsy? "
  • "Murderer, man? Murderer? Let me tell you about murder. It's fun, it's easy, and you gonna learn all about it. "
  • "Guess it's not a good day to be a bad guy."
  • "I see you have made your decision, now let's see you enforce it. "
  • "Nice outfit. I'm not sure about the face, though. "
  • "I feel like a little worm on a big fucking hook."
  • "All the power in the world rests in the eyes, fella."

so i wrote these tags about bitty and kent accidentally getting vegas married and then @lardosgf messaged me and said, “jack gets to vegas and they don’t know what fuckign hotel they’re in so he’s checking every hotel he sees.”

……and then i accidentally expanded on it. a lot. whoops. super informal but whatever. ~2k. rated m-ish. (non-explicit discussions of sex?)

one change to what happens in the first part: jack is on speaker during the initial phone call after bitty & parse get married. (you’ll see why)

(first part)

they don’t know where they are, so kent says to jack, “hang on, i’m finding out,” and then he walks out to the street to check the name of the hotel.

“we’re in the golden nugget,” kent says.

there’s a pause. jack says, “what??”

“yeah,” kent says. “we went in because it had a funny name.”

jack sighs. “jesus christ. i’ll be there in 10.”

Keep reading

A Little Road Trip Won’t Hurt (part 4)

Warnings: potty words

Pairing: Bucky x Reader x Sam x Steve (mostly Buck x Reader in this chapter)

A/N: But guys look at the gif I added to this. It’s so cute help me plz.

“Sam, it’s been hours..” You groaned from the backseat. Sam switched places with you driving because you were swerving off of the roads due to the lack of sleep and bickering from him and Bucky. Sam was driving, Steve was in the passenger, Bucky was behind Steve, and you were sat in the back of Sam.

The four of you were driving around the city of Philadelphia, and since Steve didn’t bring directions, he had to use a map to get to the hotel.

“It’s not my fault that Rogers here was holding the map upside down.” Sam muttered, turning left and right through the city.

“Hey, don’t blame Steve for anything!” Bucky spoke up, defending his best friend. You let out a small laugh.

“At least I’m not swerving off the roads, cough cough, (Y/N).” Sam said, looking at you through the mirror. You squinted, giving him the finger and laid back into your seat.

“Guys, calm down.” Steve spoke. “Wait, turn left here!” he yelled at Sam. Sam took a sharp right onto a street.

“No, you idiot. LEFT.” Bucky yelled, turning the wheel.

“On your left.” Steve laughed, gaining a glare from Sam.

“You aren’t the one driving here, Freezer.” Sam said, changing directions and making a u-turn. “Hey, you haven’t even got a turn to drive, man!”

“He promised to drive back home, Sam.” You said, rubbing your temples.

“Almost there.” Steve muttered.

2:05 A.M.

“Jesus fucking christ!” You yelled, jumping out of the car and onto the sidewalk. You stretched your limbs and yawned out loud.

“Finally.” Bucky said, doing the same as you, stretching and rolling his shoulders back.

“Why didn’t we just valet it?” Sam asked, getting his bag out of the car. Steve passed everyone their bags and leaded the way to the hotel.

“Buck brought more than one gun so I figured we just parallel park on the streets, just in case anyone finds his weapons.” Steve explained. The three of you walked behind him and walked inside the nice hotel.

“Safety reasons.” Bucky winked at you, causing you to blush. You shook your head.

“I’ll go check in.” You said. “What’s the name under, Steve?” You asked, setting your bag down on the lounge as the boys sat.

“Chris..” Steve began. “Evans.”

“Like the actor?” You asked, smiling.

“You look just like him, Steve. Why would you use that name?” Sam asked, laughing and kicking his feet up.

“For the last time, I don’t look like him. And they wouldn’t recognized me. I have my hat on.” Steve said, tiling his head.

“The hats don’t work.” You rolled your eyes as you begin to walk to the front desk.

“Checking in?” The lady at the front asked. You nodded. “Name, please.”

“Chris. Evans.” You smiled, trying to contain your laughter.

“Alright. That would be two queen beds in a suite, correct?” She asked as she pulled up the room information.

“I believe so.” You said. God dammit, Steve. You thought the rooms were separate.

“How many keys?” She asked.

“We’ll get four, thank you.” You said as she handed you four keys. You thanked the lady and walked away to the lounge area to meet the guys again.

“Steve.” You muttered as you slung your bag over your shoulder. “One room and two beds?” You whispered.

“Tony wasn’t being that gracious.” He said, biting his lip as you all got into the elevator. You pressed the 10th floor and waited.

“Guys, before we get into the room, and before you fight-“ You began, but the elevator doors opened and Sam and Bucky ran through the halls and to the room.

“I call sleeping with (Y/N)!” They yelled in unison.

“I hate you.” You pouted at Steve. You pressed the key to the scanner and opened it for the four of you. Steve held the door open as you examined the room, Bucky and Sam both jumping on the bed next to the window.

“Not bad, Rogers.” You yawned, looking at the room. The hotel you were staying at was the Loews Hotel on Market Street. The beds were neatly placed on a white duvet, colorful paintings hanging atop the bed frames as a beautiful view of Philly at 2 am was displayed right in front of your eyes on a large open window. You were surrounded by the twinkling lights of the city as the window showed you the breath taking city from the wall length window. “Now I just have to find a place to sleep.” You said.

“(Y/N), can I sleep with you?” Sam asked, getting up from the bed. “I don’t want a super soldier crushing me to death as I sleep.

“Noo. (Y/N), sleep with me. I’ll keep you safe.” Bucky butted in. You looked at Steve as he shrugged, laying down on the other bed.

“Guys, guys. It’s too late..or early for this, so we’re gonna do it like this:” You explained. “We’ll do a little Big Brother thing where you put your bags on the bed you desire to sleep on, and you sleep wherever your bag lands, alright?”

They nodded. Everyone got their bags and started at the door.

“Count of three, alright?” Steve said. “No cheating.”

“One, Two..” You began. “Three!” You said, flinging your bag across the room, making it land on the one closest to the window. Yes.

Bucky and Sam’s bags both landed on your bed at the same time, Steve’s bag landing on the other bed they didn’t want to choose.

“Guys we can’t fit on this small bed.” You said. as you walked to the bed.

As you watched the bags fall on the bed, Sam’s bag was right on the edge, ready to fall. You heard Bucky whisper ‘please fall, please fall.’ and sure enough, it did.

“Noo!” Sam shouted. “Damnit. Now I have to sleep with Steve.” He muttered, placing his bag next to Steve’s bed.

“It works out because you’re smaller than Steveie, Sam.” You laughed, placing your bag on the floor. Everyone took their shoes off and placed them against the wall, and got ready for bed. You washed your face in the bathroom, too lazy to shower at this time, and changed into an oversized shirt.

Bucky was already laying down next to the bedside table, giving you the view of the city. You saw him take his shirt off by grabbing the neck, and pulled the sweater over his head, flinging it onto the desk chair. Damn.

You crawled in beside the soldier, laying down on your back.

“Just a warning, (Y/N).” Bucky said, laying on his side to face you. You turned your head to face him. “I might cuddle you to death.” He warned.

You smiled. “I don’t mind.” You said as you turned the opposite way, facing the window. Bucky’s right arm pulled you closer by wrapping his flesh arm around your waist, his head tucked into your neck.

“Rest up, guys. Long day ahead of us tomorrow.” Steve said, coming out of the bathroom.

You sighed. “You got it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Sam said, turning away from Steve.

“Night guys.” You said, knees tucked to your stomach.

“Night, (Y/N).” Bucky mumbled into your neck.

“Night, Bucky.“

T A G L I S T:

@i-less-than-three-you, @shamvictoria11, @myworldandeverythingelse, @matteblackvevo, @pitubea1910, @supersoldier-wifey, @redstarstan

better - luke blurb

The paps were touching you and giving you comments as Luke lead you quickly to the car.
“Y/N look over here!”
“Why so shy baby!”
“Jesus Christ, look at her legs!”
“How does it feel to be Luke Hemmings’ toy, Y/N?”
The last comment hits you hard, making you look at the ground further and Luke stop.
“What the actual fuck?!” Luke booms at the pap, making you say his name in the smallest voice.
He breathes in loudly, his eyes wild as he begins to walk again.
Luke squeezes your hand before opening the door for you and you got in quickly before Luke got in with you.
“To the hotel please.” Luke says to his driver, licking his lips.
You look out the window and wipe your eyes swiftly, refusing to look anywhere.
And Luke notices as the car begins to move.
Your shoulders move up in a jerking way as you silently cried.
“Y/N…” Luke whispers, taking your hand as he scoots close to you.
“I’m fine.” You choke gently while trying to move your hand away from him.
“No, you’re not,” He says, pressing his lips against your forehead. “I heard what they said.”
You breathe in shakily and rest your head against the window.
“And they’re assholes, baby,” He says, kissing your shoulder. “They don’t know what the hell they’re talking about.”
You sniff and he breathes against you.
“You deserve so much better.” He mumbles.
“Luke, do not say that,” You say to him, looking at him. “This isn’t your fault.”
“I want to go out with you without anyone following us, Y/N.” He admits, biting his lip while rubbing his thumb on your hand.
“I know, babe, I know but-”
“I love you, pretty girl. You’re my world,” Luke whispers to you, “And I want you to be happy.”
“I am happy,” You say, squeezing his hand. “It’s just what they said got to me.”
“I’m sorry for what they said, but they’re completely and foolishly wrong.” He says, looking deep into you eyes.
You breathe in as he leans in to kiss you.
“You’re more than what my vocabulary can express,” Luke murmurs, lingering the kiss. “You’re mine and I don’t and I’ll never treat you like a ‘toy’, hear me?”
You nod and cups his cheeks again to kiss him. “I love you Luke”
“I’ll never hurt you,” He breathes between kisses, pulling you onto his lap with his hands on your lower back. “God, you make everything complete, Y/N.”
You pull away to rest your forehead against his.
“If anyone talks to you wrong or even looks at you terribly, I swear to God,” Luke breathes, pecking you again. “You tell me, princess, and I’ll take care of it.”

Luke imagine.

A/n: I really don’t know if i should post this, but I decided to anyway. This was for me only but I decided to share it with you guys, hope you like it.

Warning: contains self harm and mention of eating disorder and other stuff so if you don’t feel comfortable reading it, don’t!

It wasn’t that Luke regretted making the band, he just regretted making the band with his 3 friends. It wasn’t that he hated Ashton, it wasn’t that he hated Calum and it wasn’t that he hated Michael. He was just tired of the boys joking manors, he knew they were joking but he couldn’t help listening to them and taking things to heart. He also regretted making the band with the people he had known forever because they knew his secrets and It hurt the most when they found out these secrets. It didn’t only hurt Luke, but it hurt the boys as well.

Luke hadn’t been the most lonely kid in high school, but he definitely wasn’t popular either. He wasn’t bullied, but it just seems that everyone snickered when he walked by. He had looked down at himself and he could see why they would snicker. He knew he wasn’t “fat”, but suddenly it seemed like he had gained a lot of weight. The only thing he could really think about at that moment, was the whole pizza he had eaten the day before. He suddenly became aware of the taste of egg and bacon he had consumed this morning. He ran as fast as he could to the men’s bathroom and threw up.

He walked into class late that day. He mumbled a quick sorry to the teacher and looked around the class. He saw Calum and Michael sitting beside each other looking at him with worried eyes. Ashton wasn’t in this class, so he had no other option than to sit at the front, where there were two empty seats beside each other.

Luke felt like all attention was on him and he could hear the snickering again. Luke didn’t know that it was his head just playing games, but he sure as hell knew he had to do something.

From that day Luke always walked to and from school, instead of letting his mom drive him, he didn’t eat breakfast and only a little bit of dinner and he was starting to loose weight, fast.

It had been a while and Luke still heard the snickering, even from his own family from time to time. One time he had helped his mom making dinner and while cutting the vegetables he had accidentally cut himself. He gasped as blood started rolling down his finger. He didn’t gasp because it hurt, he gasped because the voices disappeared for a few seconds and he felt rather peaceful.

When he showered that night Luke found one of his dads old razors. He hit the razor against the sink a few times, until he was able to pull out the shiny metal. He slid it against his wrist like he had done earlier that day, just this time it was on purpose.

Luke had been self harming for a while and his band members also started to notice how thin he was getting. When they had confronted Luke about it, he was rather happy. The others had noticed, that meant he was doing something right Luke thought.
One time when they had p.e Calum had seen his scars and fresh cuts on his arms from the day before. He had confronted the other guys and they had talked it trough with Luke.

The boys had convinced him he was perfect and that he should love himself.

That was around 3 years ago. Since then they had gotten a lot more famous and they were sitting in yet another hotel room. He had lost count a long time ago on how many hotels they had been in and when they last saw their family.

Luke didn’t hate the boys, he just had his moments from time to time where he would like to be alone. He knew he wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for the boys. And he was in one of those moods again. The day had started of okay for him, until he had gotten a text from his mom saying his aunt was at the hospital. He had called her mom and she had assured him saying it wasn’t serious and telling him not to worry too much.

They were doing a twitcam and for some weird reason they were sitting in a bathtub. Luke had faked a smile for the whole twitcam and people seemed to be buying it. Ashton was complaining about how little space there was, but what Luke didn’t expect was the words Ashton said next. “Jesus Luke can you move a bit, you’re crushing my bones,” Ashton laughed along with the other boys, and Luke faked a laugh. Luke immediately felt self conscious and looked down at himself. He knew Ashton was joking, but Luke couldn’t help but notice his weight. Was he really getting too fat? Luke thought as he started twiddling his thumbs.

Michael ran of with the computer, Ashton following close behind. As Luke and Calum both stood up Calum grabbed his wrist. “You know he’s only joking, right?” “Yeah, of course,” Luke said faking yet another smile. Calum looked unconvinced but let it go anyway. The boys were still standing in the bathroom, when they heard Michael call from their shared bedroom. “What’s taking so long? Is Luke stuck in the bath tub or something?!” Luke laughed it off, but deep down the boys had broken yet another piece of Luke.

Luke walked into the room where Ashton and Michael were already sitting on one of the beds. Luke was pretty tired and all he wanted to do was get some comfort from his best friends. So he threw himself at Ashton who responded with and “unf-” as Luke was lying right on top of him. “Jesus Christ Luke, move, I can’t breathe,” Ashton said to Luke who immediately got of him and sat beside Michael out of the cameras reach. Calum walked into the room and Luke threw his arms around Michael’s torso. Calum couldn’t know something was up with him. Calum sat down beside Ashton and moved the laptop so they were all in the twitcam.

The doorbell had rung and Luke had immediately gotten up to open the door. A man who Luke assumed was working at the hotel told him that a suitcase for ‘mr Hemmings’ had arrived. “Should I bring it up or can you get it yourself?” The man had also asked to him. Luke took one look at the boys behind him who were focused on the twitcam and answered, “I’ll get it myself, thanks.”

He had excused himself and was now walking down the hall. The airport had accidentally forgotten his suitcase, which meant he only had 2 pairs of jeans and 3 shirts. Luke was standing in front of the elevator, he looked to his left to see a door that led to the stairs, he was pretty high up so he knew it would take at least 10 minutes to get down. You’re not fat Luke, you don’t need to exercise, he tried telling himself. But when he bolted down the stairs he knew he was fucked, his mind had won again and nothing could stop him.

Around 10 minutes later he was standing in the lobby breathing heavily. He really needed to exercise more he thought as he went over to the reception. “There should be a suitcase for mr. Hemmings,” Luke told the receptionist. Luke waited while the lady found his suitcase, When he heard something behind him that caught his attention. Two girls, who he assumed were fans, were talking about the boys. “I’ve heard 5 es oh es is staying at the hotel, I can’t wait to see Michael, Ashton and Caleb,” one of the girls said. His name isn’t Caleb, Luke thought, and what about him. Was he really that worthless, would it even matter if he dropped out of the band? Probably not. They’re fake fans, don’t listen to them Luke, your real fans love you, he tried convincing himself.

Luke had gotten his suitcase and was now standing in front of the door of their room trying to catch his breath. He had taken the steps back up to their room and he felt like the suitcase was filled with bricks and his arm was gonna fall of at any moment. He opened the door to see all the boys laying on one of the beds watching a movie.

He put down the suitcase beside his other bag and took out a sweatshirt and some baggy pants, and walked into the bathroom. He turned on the shower and walked into it, he relaxed slightly as the cold water ran down his back distracting him from everything else around him. Music was blaring loudly from his phone and there was no way the boys could hear him as he started to sob loudly. Luke let all his emotions out as he stood under the water that had turned warm a few minutes ago.

Luke closed his eyes as he reached for the shampoo. His hand caught something else and he opened his eyes to see Michael’s razor. Don’t do this Luke, you’re better than this he tried telling himself as he slowly undid the sides, the small shiny razor blades falling out and landing on the floor. He picked one of them up and slowly slid it against his wrist that was already full of white fading scars. 3 years down the drain, this was all it took. Luke made a cut for every word. Fat, cut, worthless, cut, stupid, cut. He continued until he started feeling dizzy. He didn’t know how long he had been in the shower, but he shut it off, quickly grabbed a towel and but it around his wrist. When he weren’t bleeding too much he bandaged his wrist, got dressed and put on all the band bracelets he had been wearing for the past few years. He was thankful he had picked a shirt with long sleeves so the guys wouldn’t get too suspicious.

When Luke got out of the shower the boys were still cuddled up beside each other and Luke mumbled a silent goodnight as he laid on the empty bed facing the other way. Luke was exhausted and quickly fell asleep.

“Was I really that mean?”
“It was my fault as well.”
“I can’t believe he did it after 3 years.”
“I was only joking, I didn’t mean any of it.”
“We’re the worst friends ever.”

Luke slowly became aware of the voices around him and he slowly opened his eyes, only to be met with 3 worried pairs. Luke was confused until he looked at his wrist, where the bracelets and bandage had been removed. Luke quickly pulled his sleeve down and Looked back at the teary eyed guys. “Oh Luke,” Ashton said as he engulfed him in a hug. “I didn’t mean anything I said, I was joking, please forgive me.” Luke didn’t know what to do, he flinched slightly and Ashton backed away from Luke, looking at him with hurt in his eyes. Luke didn’t know what to do so he just let his body guide him, as he ran out the door. The last thing he heard was Ashton breaking down and Michael yelling after him.

Part 2

anonymous asked:

I saw your breakdown of SP and it was amazing. Could you do one for TnC ?? I only vaguely remember and I REALLY need you to explain it

Togainu no Chi? Yeeeah~

TnC was Nitro+’s first ever BL game (came out in like 2005) and has since been adapted into both a terrible manga and an equally terrible made-for-TV anime which I will get into later BUT FIRST ONTO THE STORY


Keep reading

The Glimmering

Jerry’s agent has difficulty finding him work. After nearly a month, the man finally calls him.

“I got you something,” he says. “It’s not your usual gig, but it’ll help pay the bills.”

Jerry turns and rolls his eyes at Elaine and George, pointing at the phone. “What is it?”

“Caretaker of a hotel.”

“Caretaker of a—that’s ridiculous! How did you even find that? You’re an entertainment agent! How is that entertainment?”

“Just give it a shot. Please? It’s all I’ve got for you right now. Kenny Bania did it last year, and he was fine.”

“Bania? I don’t know.”

“Look, you won’t even have to do anything. It’s closed for the winter. You just have to go up there and make sure the place doesn’t fall apart.”

“Unbelievable,” Jerry mutters, shaking his head. “Okay, fine. But can I bring along my friends? It sounds pretty lonely.”

“Sure. I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”

Kramer bursts in through the door as Jerry hangs up the phone, his finger crooked in the air. He throws his voice, wiggling his finger as he speaks. “Hello, Ms. Benes,” he says to Elaine.

“So, uh… what’s this now?” asks George, with his typical condescendingly amused tone.

Kramer turns toward him, wiggling his finger. “I was in the shower when it dawned on me—why pay money for finger puppets when I can just imagine them?”

“And uh… why would you want finger puppets?”

Kramer gawks at him. “Well who doesn’t like finger puppets?”

The four of them drive up to the hotel, an enormous estate that even has a hedge maze. Jerry decides to use the opportunity to write more material. The others occupy themselves in their own ways.

Kramer invents “a man-sized tricycle—the Guycycle” and takes it for a test drive in the long hallways of the old building. He comes to an abrupt stop when he spots a set of twins in the hallway ahead.

“Your inventions are terrible,” they tell him in unison. “All of them. Every single one. Every single one. Every single one.”

He turns around and rides away.

Elaine finds a ballroom with a bar and is surprised to see a bartender there. She sits down and asks for a drink, and after a few cocktails, she starts unloading her thoughts onto him. For the next hour, she goes on and on about all the terrible and selfish things she’s done. Eventually, the bartender stops her.

“Jesus Christ, lady,” he says, walking out from behind the bar and heading for the door, “I thought I was evil.”

Finding the dining room empty, George sneaks a peek at Jerry’s new material, only to discover pages upon pages reading only “ALL WORK AND NO JOKES MAKES JERRY A DULL COMEDIAN.” He strolls away, glancing back nervously over his shoulder. Distracted by his fear, he enters the wrong hotel room and finds a beautiful naked woman inside waiting for him. As he eagerly approaches, she transforms into an old, rotting crone. He pauses for a moment, then shrugs and continues toward her.

Eventually, Jerry bumps into Bania dressed as a butler. Bania explains to him that Kramer is attempting to bring in a third party. “A mailman,” he sneers. He persuades Jerry to give them all “a good talking-to.”

Newman arrives and Jerry instantly buries an axe in his spine, killing him. Jerry then chases Kramer through the hotel and eventually into the maze, but gets lost in the labyrinth of hedges and freezes to death.

“Where’s Jerry?” asks Elaine, sauntering up to George, knocking back another gulp of a ruby-colored spiced rum she had found behind the bar.

George opens his mouth to reply, but instead, an impossible torrent of blood gushes out, washing her away down the hall. She floats past an old black and white photograph labeled “Overlook Comedy Club, July 4th Ball, 1921”.

It is a photo of Jerry performing standup on a stage in the hotel’s ballroom.



JAMES O’BARR’S  T H E  C R O W sentence meme
  • ❛ Man, you scared the crap outta me ! ❜
  • ❛ You gonna kill me now ? ❜
  • ❛ I already count you among the dead. ❜
  • ❛ Look ! It’s a full moon. ❜
  • ❛ Oh, you’re just so funny, wise ass. ❜
  • ❛ May God grant you the mercy that I cannot. ❜
  • ❛ I’ve allies in heaven; I’ve comrades in hell. ❜
  • ❛ Hey ! Turn that up ! I love this song ! ❜
  • ❛ What do I get for making an ass of myself ? ❜
  • ❛ Jesus Christ walks into a hotel. He hands the innkeeper three nails and asks: Can you put me up for the night ? ❜
  • ❛ How wonderful is death … Death and his brother sleep. ❜
  • ❛ I believe you have something of mine. ❜
  • ❛ I’m counting to three, and I’m gonna blow your head all over the wall. ❜
  • ❛ I see a kindness in your eyes, and a deep sadness in your heart. ❜
  • ❛ Do you have any idea what it’s like to see someone you love in pain ? ❜
  • ❛ Sometimes I think I’m bad, and God has sent me to hell. ❜
  • ❛ This isn’t hell, but you can see it from here. ❜
  • ❛ How come it hurts so much ? ❜
  • ❛ Are the bones of your sins sharp enough to cut through you own excuses ? ❜
  • ❛ Mother is the name for god in the lips and hearts of all children. ❜
  • ❛ Be there at midnight. Bring some friends. We’ll have a party ! ❜
  • ❛ You’re all going to die. ❜
  • ❛ I will hurt you. A lot. And Slowly. ❜
  • ❛ You were dead the moment you touched them. ❜
  • ❛ God, you’re so beautiful. ❜
  • ❛ Everything is going to be okay. ❜
  • ❛ Why, you worthless piece of trash ! ❜
  • ❛ Any parting words for your pretty little boyfriend/girlfriend ? ❜
  • ❛ I swear to God you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. ❜
  • ❛ If you could have on wish, anything in the world, what would you want ? ❜
  • ❛ I don’t understand, but I know you loved her/him a whole lot. ❜
  • ❛ I guess you should go then, even if it does make my heart hurt. ❜
  • ❛ See you in heaven. ❜
  • ❛ It’s amazing that God would waste skin on trash like that. ❜
  • ❛ It’s not death if you refuse it. ❜
  • ❛ If anyone would like me to dial 911, please raise your hand. ❜
  • ❛ Well, if you ain’t just all daisies and sunshine. ❜


“Niall, we love you!” The fans screamed, watching Niall walk out of the bathroom. He had arranged a romantic weekend at an expensive hotel just for the two of you, but somehow the fans found out and the next thing you knew, they were camping in the hotel.

“Niall, give me your babies!” A girl no younger than 12 screamed excitedly, holding her arms out to get a hug.

“It’s a cartwheel!” Niall quickly rushed through her arms, running all the way into the elevator as the 12 year old chased after him. 

“Niall?” You walked out, carrying your phone and his wallet. 

“Just give me your damn babies!” The girl banged on the elevator doors, beginning to sob. “All I want are your babies!" 

"Jesus Christ.” You muttered, deciding that it’d be better to take the stairs.

Fic: And dance by the light of the moon — Arthur/Eames, 17k, AO3
Arthur wants to press him against the bar and hold him there until Eames gives in, until he drops the cool facade and moans Arthur’s name against his lips. He wants to touch Eames, coax him to climax and then leave him, just fucking get up and walk away. He wants Eames to feel bereft everywhere Arthur’s fingers have touched him. He wants Eames to go to hell.
By Organization for Transformative Works

And Eames says, “You’re better than pining over a dead man, Arthur.”

Anybody else, Arthur would punch them. Instead he lets his gaze go shuttered a little and huffs out a laugh. Eames leans over and watches him, his eyes sharp. “All I’m saying is,” he says, looking far too earnest for a man who’s picked five pockets since he’s walked into the hotel, “You know you’re better than this. You know you could have your share of men who won’t drag you down with them.”

“Jesus christ,” says Arthur, “I can’t tell if you’re hitting on me or trying to give me an intervention.” Eames blinks a few times, as if he’s honestly thrown. “Forget it,” says Arthur, rolling his eyes.

“Could be both, if you like,” says Eames, his voice remarkably steady considering how he’s leaning on the bar. “Nothing quite so cathartic as fantastic sex.” He raises his glass, toasts Arthur, and drinks. “Although I’d like to think in normal circumstances it would take more than a few tawdry come-ons to get you into bed.”

Arthur turns away from the bar and faces him then, feeling the heat in his own gaze translate to the way Eames’ eyes flash. “Maybe that’s all it takes when I actually like the guy,” he says.

“Oh, please, Arthur,” says Eames, baring his teeth. “We both know you like me just fine.”

[Buffalo gals, won’t you come out tonight?]