the limo driver


To be completely honest, I don’t even know anymore. 12 days. 12 days.

Jemma wakes up in the framework… tied up? 

She awoke with a sudden jerk forward, finding herself sitting upright in nothing but darkness. Jemma took a deep breath, holding herself together. She wiggled her arms to feel them tied up behind her, her feet bound together just like her hands. Don’t panic, Jemma. Panicking won’t save Fitz. She clamped her eyes shut, let out her breath, and listened.

There was nothing but eerie silence for what seemed like hours, until finally, she heard footsteps. “Is he here yet? We’ve been waiting for hours.”

“Yeah, he arrived.”

“’Bout bloody time.”

“You should’ve seen how he came in. Limo driver, his suit lookin’ like a thousand bucks, and I won’t even mention the escort.”

“Really? An escort? If he doesn’t get his –”

“Shh, he’s coming.”

Then, after a moment of silence, more footsteps.

“Leo! Mate, it’s been too long. How you been? Mum and dad doin’ all right?”

“Just get to the point, Lance. Why’d you call me here?”

Simmons was paralyzed.

It was Fitz.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

prom night my friend and i and our group of friends decided to get a limo and after the dance was over and the limo driver was dropping people off at their respective houses my boyfriend and i started making out in the back that was covered by a seat. we ended up fucking while my best friend and her date were in the front of the limo and they to this day don't realise that we were doing it the whole time we were in the limo together


On this day in music history: March 13, 1965 - “Eight Days A Week” by The Beatles hits #1 on the Billboard Hot 100 for 2 weeks. Written by John Lennon and Paul McCartney, it is the seventh US chart topper for “The Fab Four”. The initial inspiration for the song comes when Paul McCartney is being driven out to John Lennon’s home in Weybridge, Surrey, outside of London. Casually chatting with the limo driver, McCartney asks him “How’ve you been?”, to which he replies “oh, working hard.” “Working eight days a week.” Once he arrives at Lennons house, McCartney tell him what the driver has said, and both immediately agree that it will make a great song title. The pair write the song that afternoon, then recording it with the rest of the band on October 6, 1964 at Abbey Road Studios in London. The song is initially recorded with an intro that features three part harmony vocals from Lennon, McCartney, and George Harrison. As the session goes on, these vocals are dropped in favor of the signature strummed guitars heard at the intro, that are faded up during the song’s final mixing. Originally released as an album track on the band’s fourth UK album “Beatles For Sale” issued in December of 1964, it is left off of the US compilation “Beatles ‘65” released at the same time. Some radio stations get a hold of the UK album and begin spinning “Eight Days A Week”, creating a demand for its stateside release. Issued as a stand alone single (backed with “I Don’t Want To Spoil The Party”) on February 15, 1965, it is an immediate smash. Entering the Hot 100 at #53 on February 20, 1965, it rockets to the top of the chart three weeks later. Both songs make their US album debut on the compilation “Beatles VI” in June of 1965. An alternate take of “Eight Days” featuring the discarded harmony vocals is released on “The Beatles Anthology 1” in 1995. In 2016, “Eight Days A Week” is also used as the title of a Grammy Award winning documentary film directed by Ron Howard, focusing on The Beatles world tours during the 60’s. The country flavored “I Don’t Want To Spoil The Party” is later covered by Rosanne Cash whose version hits number one on the Billboard Country singles chart in June of 1989. “Eight Days A Week” is certified Gold in the US by the RIAA.

Logan: A Film Review.

Ah, Logan. I’ll be honest, when I first saw the trailer for the last Wolverine film, I wasn’t sold. It is safe to say, I was terribly wrong. It was a heartfelt, bittersweet and powerful film. By far the best x-men film and definitely one that that had the most love, emotion and character development. Set in the future, in a time where mutants are scarce, Logan is now a limo service driver, while taking care of Charles Xavier, who has since deteriorated in his old age.

Keep reading


farewell degrassi tng meme [10/15 characters]: Paige Michalchuk

“Ninth grade, my date is orange and I’m sporting a screaming sunburn. Tenth grade, our limo driver Jim Boy Jed the criminal delivers in a cop cruiser. Eleventh grade, it gets worse. Hopped up on pain killers, I arrive with a date who doesn’t like girls on the special bus. Hello everyone! Happy prom! Isn’t this so perfectly festive?”

Imagine, you are that limo driver...How do you survive something like this?

Gillian Anderson: Worst injury I ever had? Oh gosh, I don’t know. I ended up at the hospital sliding down the stairs. I hurt my back. Oh, but you know what. Last year for about a year and a half I had a frozen shoulder. And it was…

Josh Horowitz: Frozen shoulder?

Gillian Anderson: Yeah. I didn’t know they existed. But this tiny event happened on the set of Crisis, and it started something, which turned into me not being able to move my left arm. Which is fine. I still can’t move it, like above that, and I need to start..This is crazy…I can’t do my bra from the back. It’s terrible. I have to ask people to help me. I’m joking. But…

Josh Horowitz: I’m there for you anytime you need me.

Gillian Anderson: I did actually have to ask a limo driver once. I got home and nobody was in the house and my zip was up to here and I had to. I shot the door and I was like: “Oh my God. I’m gonna be sleeping in this dress all night long.” So I went back and I said: Look, I’m really sorry, and I’m not..I promise you I won’t mention this to anybody, which of course, I mention it now 

Josh Horowitz: You’re mentioning it now.

Gillian Anderson: Would you mind coming in my house and undoing my zipper? So he did, he came in and he goes: “I’m sorry, but can I have a picture?”

Josh Horowitz: It’s an even trade.

Gillian Anderson: It is. I thought so, too. We did a picture, I’m sure he showed his wife.So that was not my worst injury.

Josh Horowitz: But the most entertaining one.

Gillian Anderson: Yes.


Irene: What do you do?
Driver: I drive.
Irene: Like a limo driver?
Driver: No, like, for movies.
Irene: Oh. You mean all the car chases and stuff?
Driver: Yeah.
Irene: Isn’t that dangerous?
Driver: It’s only part-time. Mostly I work at a garage. („Drive”, 2011)

Saved from a Hamburg junkyard in 2004, rebuilt in 1100 hours according to requirements of the historic touring car series Group 2: 1970 BMW 2002 ti (165 hp, 205 km/h). I like these BBS wheels.

Mobile Masterlist







Rap Monster/Namjoon


The Main Villain(s) preidction for Zootopia 2!

Hey everyone!!!

I just thought of something, something HUGE!!!

This is another theory of mine that I am posting.


My theory could be wrong, but this is a huge theory of mine.

So my theory is that Emmitt Otterton

is going to be the main villain in Zootopia 2.

Or in some case, helping the villain.

Originally posted by yourreactiongifs

What’s my reason?

Well, the scene in which Judy and Nick were at Mr. Big’s daughter’s wedding.

Mr. Big said to the two that he wanted to discuss something important, so he sent a limo driver to pick him up.

It looked liked it was very important for the both of them.

But the question is, what was the topic that they were going to discuss?

Think about it, Mr.Big has a MAFIA!

He can find and kill anyone!

He is a sneaky Shrew! 


Mr. Otterton is a florist.

He has knowledge of flowers.

Does he have something to do with the night howlers?!

Maybe yes, maybe not.

But this point can lead into something serious and important for the sequel.

That is my take.

@thebronyphilospher @ktrk5 @theboywhoflydragons @flowers-and-crossbows @fanboyofallthingsfandom @fangirl323 @agentexeider @pace2n9tmaker @nickswilde @zootopiasubject @prettyscar @equinox-vixen @wildwolfjunkie @nrbnation @nerdalicos @nicholas-p-wilde @vausq @victoriamiller1posts


I heard today was Pacific Pride Day, so here I am. What do I like about being Islander? Hands down, it’s being raised in the aiga. There’s something very special about how Samoans interact with people: my dad had me make sandwiches and take those + cold drinks out to the people repairing our roof every day that they were working a few years ago, my family invited the funeral director responsible for my uncle’s service and some other workers back to the house to participate in uncle’s life celebration, my family fed the limo driver at my cousin’s wedding–Samoan hospitality is unlike anything I’ve ever seen in this country. I’m proud of coming from a culture that is focused on community love rather than individual achievement.

  • friend: come over! lets hang out
  • me: Sounds GREAT I'll need a wheelchair, 2 Vicodin, gossip girl playing in the background, at least 6 puppies, a limo driver that doesn't speak English, and someone to tell me I'm pretty every 27 seconds
Back to His Roots

Fandom: Undertale
Characters: Mettaton EX (and his limo driver)
Rating: T for mild language and horror themes
Chapters: 1
Word Count: 1,366
TagsUndertale, Mettaton, Snail, Body Horror

AN: This work of fiction contains body horror. Read at your own discretion. This is also my first written work in a while, so I’m rusty.


               It all started with a glass of water. As soon as Mettaton awoke that morning, he was just a little thirsty. Being a robot, he didn’t require food, necessarily, but he was made from magic which required some form of energy to keep him going. Thirst, though? That was rare even for him. Of course, he did what came naturally and poured himself a glass. It seemed strange, but nothing else seemed to be wrong so he didn’t question it.

As the morning progressed, he started to slowly put on his hot pink wardrobe. He hadn’t noticed that two whole hours had passed before he was fully dressed. It usually only took him thirty minutes at worst to put together his best outfit.

‘What the hell…?’ He thought, ‘Maybe the clock is wrong?’

After a moment of slight confusion and fear, he just shrugged it off. Maybe today was just an off day for him. His battery may have been reaching a point of needing a replacement. Whatever the case, it was already 10 am, and he had a long day of shopping and appointments before his first concert for his new hit album. He hadn’t seen the stage in almost two months due to some modelling jobs he had to take and a few minor technical difficulties that caused his voice box to glitch. It took Alphys a week to fix that.

Mettaton slowly made his way to his long, pink limousine, where he climbed into the back and instructed the driver to head to the mall. He wanted his grand premiere to be flashy and nothing in his wardrobe really grasped what he truly had in mind. Upon arrival at 11:00, he seemed to take a good 2 minutes just climbing out of the limo. An extra 5 just to make it inside. His body seemed to be responding more slowly to his thoughts, but he didn’t really take notice.

After browsing a couple of boutiques, that strange thirst suddenly hit him once again. This time, it was stronger. He immediately changed his course straight to the food court, where he stopped at a restaurant and ordered the largest cup size of water they had. His pace slowed a little more, and after passing two stores, he had already downed the entire cup of water. He was still so thirsty… and it seemed to be getting a little hotter inside. Did the air conditioning break?

He tried a few more shops, but come 1 pm, he just felt exhausted, like his legs were becoming like jelly.

‘I need…. To get to the set…’ He thought, turning towards the exit where he had first entered, ‘The show starts in 6 hours….’

It now took him 10 minutes to reach the limousine, and 5 minutes to climb inside. His body was screaming to get out of the sun. He felt like he was pouring sweat. Wait.. Robots didn’t sweat. He NEVER produced sweat. What was going on…?

“You alright, Metta?” Asked the driver, sounding a little concerned.

Of course, Mettaton was frozen in shock, but he suddenly felt a huge smile spread on his face. His mouth seemed to move on its own, “Of course, darling, I’m just peachy. I would like to head to waterfall really fast if you wouldn’t mind~”

The driver glanced him over, and then shrugged, “Alright, but it’s gotta be quick, we’re on a tight schedule today.”

Mettaton just nodded. He was terrified, but for some reason he just couldn’t find the will to react that way. He honestly just didn’t have the energy to start freaking out. He just knew he needed a nice, cool place to clear his head. Yeah. That’s all he needed.

Once in waterfall, the driver pulled over and unlocked the door, “You got 10 minutes, and then we’re heading out, capiche?”

The superstar just nodded again. He didn’t really feel like talking for some reason. It felt unnecessary. He was sweating more, so he wiped his forehead, but then he noticed that his sweat seemed oddly….slimy? He felt like he should have been scared, but his only reaction was to go find a nice, dark place to curl up under. That’s all he wanted. Waterfall was so perfect, he never understood why he ever wanted to leave.


Why was he here? What was the purpose of coming to Waterfall? He had a show in 4 hours!!
He turned back to the limo, but before he could move, he got hit with the thirsty feeling again. This time it was extremely urgent. He needed water fast. That would fix everything.

He walked as fast as he could (which was really just a slow stroll) down to Napstablook’s home.  But, instead of stopping and knocking on the door, he passed it entirely, going past the snail farm and deeper into Waterfall. Water. He needed water. And he needed to eat… he…. He suddenly found it extremely difficult to walk upright. He was moving at a crawl at this point, one leg slowly moving in front of the other, until finally he just stopped in his place and stared straight ahead. Something was coming up, he didn’t know what, but the idea of it relaxed him. And then, it hit.

He immediately fell face first onto the ground. A small grunt escaped his throat, but beyond that, something about this position felt right. It felt natural. More slime seemed to be dripping down his face, and he continued to try and wipe it off. Then, he heard the sound of water trickling nearby. A sound of pure bliss to his ears, and almost instinctually he started moving towards it. Mettaton had to use his arms to move his body. He HAD to reach that water. His whole body was screaming for it.

Slime poured down his face, and it seemed to be coming out of his mouth too. He eventually stopped trying to wipe the slime out of his eyes. It was supposed to be there anyways. Plus, his eyes felt oddly sensitive. He couldn’t figure out why. Suddenly, a slight pinch struck throughout his body, and he heard the creaking of metal. A giant, slimy mass was building up underneath his no longer necessary metal shell. He tried to move his legs, but they had merged together at some point to a long, pink, slimy tip and his boots had slid off at some point during his journey. His cute outfit had torn and was caked with mud, and so were his Egyptian Silk gloves and basically the whole front of his body, which he was dragging on his own though all the muck and dirt. Soon, his arms seemed so unnecessary. They weren’t supposed to be there. Thankfully, to his relief, they retracted into his giant, pink body and he could finally move like he was supposed to, using the giant snail foot that was now in place of his chest and belly.

He could barely even think at this point, once he reached the water’s edge, he stretched his long snail neck to the surface and downed more than twice his body weight. A strange pain hit his entire body as the final transformation took place. All the metal scraps that remained on his giant, amorphous body started to move and retract to a central point on his back. It was painful, but he didn’t really feel like screaming in pain. He just continued to drink the water desperately until finally he couldn’t drink anymore.

He finally pulled back when he heard a strange sound.

“Mettaton?? Is that you??” Shrieked the limo driver from behind him, “N-No way, that can’t be…. How did this happen? Can you hear me??”

Mettaton slowly turned his body to face the driver. He smiled big, and then let out a small grunt when he felt a weird pressure behind his eyes. They pushed out of his head into two, long stalks, and with that, his entire identity faded. He wasn’t sure why this man was yelling at him. Maybe he wanted to mate? Something was definitely telling him that this man really wanted to lay his eggs…


Vincent found that wearing a suit, tie, and dark sunglasses gives him an air of legitimacy, while Angel finds that a brown shirt, brown pants, and a brown baseball cap lend credence to his not-inaccurate statement that he’s got a delivery.

Angel once worked for a woman who needed to serve divorce papers to her husband, but hit a little snag when the man went on vacation – with his mistress. The woman had reached the end of her already-frayed rope and, with Angel’s assistance, hatched a plan.

“I told her to let him know she was getting a car service for him to pick him up at the airport,” he says. “I got one of those costumes limo drivers wear, I got a big blank piece of paper, and I wrote his last name. Then I waited outside the terminal with the sign, and as soon as he came to me, I pulled out the papers, like, ‘Here, Mr. Smith. I advise you not to go home, because your wife’s not too happy with you on vacation with the mistress.’ And he had the mistress right there next to him, mind you. I just turned around, threw the sign away, and kept moving.”

We Can Legally Stalk You: Life As A Process Server