#Car Brands Emblem
Text
vi. deer dolly
see all chapters here
tags: fem! reader, reader is a performer in a speakeasy, heavy warning for violence and blood, overdose, murder, death, hunting, graphic descriptions of injuries, manipulation, allusion to death, grey morality, references to alcoholism, twisted view of love, gorey descriptions of love, murder, heated scene (making out)
˚୨୧₊♱
You never really liked cars.
The first time you had ridden in one was in the 1930s.
It was after one of your shifts, the wet streets illuminated only by the flickering glow of the rusting lampposts. There you stood, still in your glad rags and wrapped in a coat, the misty drizzle kissing your face. Alastor arrived a few minutes later with a honk of his horn, surprising you with a ride home in his latest purchase—a stunning red car with a sleek roof that gleamed in the dim light, its long, sweeping fenders and rounded body cutting a striking figure against the darkness of the night.
As you got into the car, excitement tingled in your veins, eager to experience the wonders of modern transportation. However, the thrill quickly turned to fear as the speeds increased, and your husband, the ass he was, seemed to enjoy nothing more than pushing the accelerator and hearing your horrified screams. Each time the car accelerated, you found yourself clinging onto him for dear life, the rush of wind slamming against your flushed face, your heart racing in your chest.
Since then, you swore never to get into a car again, preferring the safety of solid ground beneath your feet, the memory of that terrifying ride haunting your thoughts whenever you heard the roar of an engine.
Now, standing outside and shivering in the cold, you watched as a long royal blue limo pulled up before you. The sleek vehicle gleamed under the streetlights, its polished surface reflecting the dim glow of the surrounding city. The doors, adorned with gold accents, were automated and opened up for you, revealing a plush interior illuminated by soft, warm lighting. Small steps extended gracefully from below, inviting you to step inside.
Velvette wasted no time and went in first, her stiletto heels clicking against the polished floor as she settled into one of the luxurious seats. Already engrossed in a phone call, her voice echoed faintly through the open doorway, mingling with the low hum of the engine.
Meanwhile, Vox stood by your side, his imposing figure casting a shadow over the pavement. You knew he was making sure you wouldn't attempt to escape, although the thought barely crossed your mind.
After all, where could you possibly run to now? Any endeavor in that direction would likely prove futile and possibly even fatal. The evidence of your soul being sold was clear, evident in the now black color of your sclera.
"Well," Vox drawled, his voice carrying a subtle edge of impatience as he gestured towards the open limousine door. "Aren't you going to go in?"
You hesitated, biting your lip as you reluctantly took a step back. Vox eyed your actions warily.
"Is it safe?" you found yourself blurting out, your voice trembling with uncertainty.
"Is it safe?" Vox repeated with a scoff, a hint of annoyance flickering in his eyes. "Of course it's safe! I made it!"
He pointed to the VoxTek logo on the car—as though he were a seasoned salesman promoting a product. The metal emblem gleamed under the faint streetlights. Yet, rather than assuring you, the sight of the branding only heightened your unease.
Vox noticed the lack of change in your expression and sighed, deciding to take a different approach. With a faint glimmer of empathy, he motioned toward a nearby building which had a large billboard featuring his face and image.
"See there?" he gestured, his tone adopting a persuasive edge. "See what that billboard says? VoxTek is a symbol of power and security. You're in the safest hands possible. This limousine is equipped with state-of-the-art safety features."
His attempt to reassure you only rang hollow in your ears, and despite his words, a sense of unease continued to gnaw at you. Yet, Vox still persisted, his voice softening as he stepped closer to you. You had to crane your head up to look at him while he stared down at you, his figure casting a shadow over your form.
"I assure you," he pressed, his tone gentler now. "You have nothing to fear."
With no other choice but to comply, you reluctantly stepped forward, your movements stiff and hesitant. Vox held your hand as he guided you towards the waiting limousine. As you entered the luxurious interior, the door closed behind you with a soft click, sealing your fate as the vehicle pulled away from the curb and disappeared into the night.
Outside, the city lights blurred into streaks of color as the limousine sped through the streets. With each passing moment, the distance between you and Mimzy's torn-down lounge grew.
Lost in your thoughts, you barely noticed when the limousine finally came to a stop, the sudden silence jolting you back to reality. As the door opened with a soft hiss, you gazed out to behold the imposing V Tower looming before you.
Its grandeur was undeniable, with its towering floors and striking red windows gleaming in the night. At the very top, a massive antenna sat, reaching towards the sky like a beacon, while a studio sign was plastered along the building's front, featuring red lips nestled within the arches of the middle V, an iconic symbol of the entertainment empire housed within.
Vox and Velvette emerged from the limousine, their presence causing a few loiterers on the street to scurry away in fear.
Oh, how you wished you could do the same.
Inside the car, you hesitated, nerves coiling in your stomach as you fidgeted with your hands. Then, unexpectedly, Vox turned to you, his expression unreadable as he extended his hand.
Surprised, you paused for a moment before accepting his hand, allowing him to guide you down the steps. The chilly night air enveloped you as your feet touched the pavement, the distant sound of the limo's engine fading away as it drove off.
Seconds passed, and Vox still maintained his grip on your hand, his hold firm. Confusion flickered in your mind as you turned to him, noticing the irritation in his gaze as he eyed your wedding ring.
"Is there a problem, mister?" you asked as you followed his gaze to your ring.
Vox's expression remained inscrutable for a moment before he finally responded, his tone cool and detached.
"I suggest you ditch that," he said, his eyes narrowing slightly. "It's a liability now. Doesn't do any favors for your image, doll."
"But I'm awfully attached. It's…" you began, your voice trailing off as you struggled to find a good enough excuse.
You knew all too well the consequences of revealing your connection, especially in your current vulnerable state. The mere mention of Alastor's name could unravel everything, plunging you deeper into this mess. With two powerful overlords and a soul contract hanging over your head like a guillotine, caution was not just a choice but a necessity.
"It's a symbol of your past life," Vox interjected, his voice cutting through your hesitation.
"And we're leaving that behind now." He extended his hand, the glint of his metal claws catching the dim light, mirroring the uncertainty in your expression. "Hand it over."
With a resigned sigh, you reluctantly slipped the ring off your finger, a pang of loss gripping your heart as you handed it to the overlord. Vox accepted it with a dismissive nod before tucking it into his pocket, his attention already turning back to the looming entrance of the V Tower.
As you entered the building flanked by both Vox and Velvette, you were immediately struck by the brash, modern atmosphere that engulfed you. The walls were painted in bold hues of pink and red, illuminated by the glare of oversized LED screens that flashed with images and advertisements for upcoming events. The floor beneath your feet was polished to a sterile sheen, reflecting the harsh neon lights that bathed the space.
Velvette, with her usual air of haughty superiority, led the way to your room, her steps brisk and impatient. She barely spared you a glance as she gestured towards the metal door that stood before you, its surface cold and unwelcoming.
With a swish of her fingers, she conjured an obtrusively bright star decoration on the wall, reminiscent of celebrity door decorations found in Hollywood, with your name scrawled in cursive on its surface.
"Right, if there's anything you need, you just go down to the lobby and find someone named Shalom," Velvette barked, her tone sharp and impatient, her eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape route.
"Say, is there a chance I could lay my mitts on a radio?" you asked, hoping to grasp onto some semblance of familiarity in this alien environment, your eyes flitting back and forth between the two of them.
But instead of a response, Vox began to buffer, his screen flashing with bright neon glitches, while Velvette's lips curled into a sneer, her expression one of thinly veiled contempt and amusement at your request.
"Guess I'll take that as a no then?" you smiled tensely, your attempt falling flat.
To your surprise, Vox shook his head, and his screen flashed back to his face, the glitches disappearing as quickly as they had come.
The TV demon reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek smartphone. Without a word, he plopped it into your hand, and you turned it over, confusion evident on your face.
"A phone?" you said, flabbergasted, your eyebrows shooting up in disbelief. You blinked in astonishment, the absurdity of the situation not lost on you. You were more surprised by the fact that it came from his pocket. Does he keep random smartphones on him at all times?
"Yes, a phone," Vox confirmed with a smirk, a hint of pride dancing in his eyes. "Consider it a courtesy from VoxTek. No need for a radio when we have such sleek products. This is the future! You don't need old shit from the past. Those radios barely pick up anything worth listening to, just crappy, barely audible broadcasts."
"Oh," you said, the air deflating from your lungs as a pang of disappointment settled in your chest. The phone was a thoughtful gesture, but it wasn't going to fix your longing to speak to Alastor. "Well. I suppose I should thank you."
"Don't mention it," Vox replied casually, his demeanor shifting back to its usual aloofness, his tone devoid of any genuine warmth or concern.
With a resigned sigh, you turned and stepped into your new room. You looked around the décor curiously, taking in the sleek modern furniture and it's peculiar design.
Velvette followed closely behind you, her eyes, framed with smoky eyeshadow, narrowing as she regarded you with disgust. The glint of her perfectly manicured nails caught the harsh overhead lights as she folded her arms across her chest.
"Really? A hooverette dress?" Velvette sneered, each syllable dripping with disdain. "You're like a relic from the '40s. Outdated."
You felt a surge of anger at the comment. Sure, you died near the 1940s, but that didn't mean you were outdated. Before you could even muster a response, Velvette raised a hand, and with a flick of her fingers, she effortlessly transformed the fabric of your dress. It rippled and shifted, morphing before your eyes into a pink silk pajama robe, trimmed with a cream-colored fur. She stepped back, a self-satisfied smirk curling her lips as she admired her handiwork.
"Much better," she declared with a clap. "Listen, you're representing VoxTek now. Even when sleeping, we can't have you looking like a washed-up has-been, can we?"
Swallowing your pride, you forced a tight-lipped nod, suppressing the urge to lash out in defiance.
"Yes, ma'am," you managed to grit out, your voice strained. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet," she retorted, her tone sharp and dismissive. "I've got a lot of work to do, and you've got a long way to go before I can get you stage ready."
With that, Velvette stormed out of the room, her heels clicking sharply against the polished floor with each brisk step. As she disappeared from view, Vox leaned in, his shadow casting a long silhouette against the wall. He reached for the doorknob, his fingers gliding over the cool metal.
"Goodnight," he murmured softly, his voice barely audible above the hum of the air conditioning. With a gentle pull, he closed the door with a thud, sealing you in with your thoughts and fears. The latch clicked shut, and you were left alone, enveloped in the eerie silence of the unfamiliar space.
With a heavy sigh, you turned to survey your room even closer.
Your eyes swept over the tall walls adorned with abstract artwork, bursts of vibrant colors contrasting sharply with the subdued hues of the furniture. The wide windows offered a breathtaking view of the city skyline, with skyscrapers twinkling in the distance like distant constellations.
Approaching the plush king-sized bed, you sank into its cloud-like mattress, feeling its comforting embrace envelop you. It was definitely an improvement from Mimzy's lounge. And yet, despite the luxurious trappings, a sense of confinement lingered. After all, a gilded cage remains a cage.
As you assessed your situation, it became clear that you were going to be the star attraction in Velvette's upcoming fashion extravaganza. Her shows were always a hit, and this year's circus-themed spectacle had her buzzing with excitement. The lead model was a singer-actress you'd heard of; you'd seen her the day Mimzy dragged her into the lounge. Pity the poor girl died.
Given the circus motif, it was apparent why Velvette had chosen you. Your background as a singer, coupled with your doll-like appearance, made you the perfect fit for the role.
The best course of action now was to play it safe. Going along with her plan was sure to draw attention, from the lowest imps to Lucifer Morningstar himself. Your face was bound to be plastered on every screen in the infernal realm, broadcasted to demons and damned souls alike. Even with his hatred for the picture shows, Alastor would have to be both blind and deaf to miss this.
He would come for you, you knew it deep in your bones, and yet a pessimistic voice in the back of your head whispered doubts.
Did you even deserve to be taken back after all of this?
With these thoughts weighing heavily on your mind like an anchor dragging you into the depths, you closed your eyes, seeking solace in the darkness behind your lids. But sleep remained elusive, evading your grasp.
As the night wore on, exhaustion crept over you like a heavy fog, its tendrils enveloping you in a suffocating embrace. Despite the turmoil raging within, your body succumbed to weariness, and gradually, you slipped into your dreams.
˚୨୧₊♱
Both you and Alastor embarked on a slow journey through the darkened streets of Louisiana, the car's headlights cutting through the enveloping gloom like beacons. Carefully navigating the labyrinthine city, you avoided the occasional patrol car with its blinding flashlights, skirting through shadowed alleys and side streets to evade detection.
Finally reaching the outskirts of town, where the forest awaited, Alastor brought the car to a halt, the engine's low hum fading into silence. Turning to you, he noticed the fear etched on your face, your wide eyes reflecting the dim glow of the dashboard lights.
With a tender touch, Alastor took your face in his hands, calling for you. "Cher?"
You turned to him, your lips parting slightly as tears welled in your eyes. Alastor's touch was feather-light as his fingertips traced a delicate path along the curve of your cheek. With a gentle brush of his thumb, he coaxed your eyelids closed. Tears streamed down your cheeks, leaving a trail in their wake. As you blinked your eyes open again, you were met with the tender press of his lips against yours.
"We did what we had to do," Alastor murmured against your lips, his voice a low rasp that sent goosebumps dancing across your skin.
With his eyes closed, he leaned in closer, his kiss growing more urgent, almost desperate. You responded in kind, the roughness of the kiss igniting a fire within you.
Feeling his fingers threading through the back of your hair, you whimpered and melted into his embrace, your hands clutching onto his broad shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his button-up shirt. Alastor groaned in response as he lifted you effortlessly from the passenger seat and settled you onto his lap. Your chest pressed flat against his, the rhythm of your heartbeat syncing with his own.
As the sky grew darker, the moon mingling with the fading hues of sunset, the wind whispered through the open windows of the car, carrying with it the promise of a new beginning.
Alastor eventually pulled away, his gaze lingering on your tousled hair and puffy lips as he leaned back in his seat, taking in every detail of your appearance. Seeing you in such a ruined state stirred something within him.
"Are you ready?" he asked. You nodded meekly in response, your heart racing.
Truth be told, you didn't think you could ever truly be ready for what you were about to do.
Your husband hummed in acknowledgment, allowing you to slip off his lap as he straightened his brown coat, the fabric rustling softly with each movement.
Guiding you out of the car, he then reached into the backseat, retrieving his hunting gun. The metallic click of the firearm being loaded echoed in the quiet night. And you damn near fainted when he handed it to you, the weight of it feeling heavier than you could bear. The metal surface was icy against your palm, and you fought the urge to recoil, but Alastor pressed it firmly into your hand, his touch reassuring yet commanding.
"You'll need this," Alastor spoke lowly, bending down to your height, his glasses slipping further down the bridge of his nose. "Use it for safety. There might be wild animals out."
You hesitated, the weight of the weapon heavy in your hand, but the urgency in his tone spurred you to nod in agreement.
"Do you remember when I taught you how to hunt?" he questioned, slipping on a pair of dark leather gloves he had pulled out of his pocket. His voice was low and smooth, laced with a hint of nostalgia. "You remember how to shoot, no?"
You nodded, eyes still glued to the gun, unable to tear your gaze away.
"Words, cher. Use your words."
"Yes, love," you whispered, finding your voice. Alastor smiled, the rough texture of his glove grazing gently against your cheek as he pressed his hand to your face one last time before stepping away.
Your husband made his way to the trunk of the car, the soft glow of the taillights casting long shadows across the forest floor. With strong pull, he opened it, revealing its contents. Your breath caught in your throat as he retrieved a shovel and a black body bag, the sight sending a sickening feeling through your stomach.
Alastor slung the bag over his shoulder and began walking, his steps confident, as if he knew exactly where he was going. The weight of the bag seemed inconsequential to him, swinging lightly with each stride. There was an odd, almost unsettling look in his eyes as he whistled a tune, the sound echoing eerily through the silent woods. A glint of something primal and untamed flickered within their depths.
Nonetheless, you followed him, drawn to his presence like a moth to a flame.
Trudging deeper, the shadows seemed to grow darker, more menacing. The silence pressed in on you from all sides, broken only by Alastor's whistling and the sound of your footsteps crunching on the forest floor. Each step felt like a descent into madness, the unknown lurking just beyond the reach of your flashlight's beam.
Suddenly, Alastor halted in a secluded corner, where the trees were decaying, their long branches resembling gnarled fingers reaching out for you in the darkness. He turned to you, the dim light of your flashlight reflecting off his glasses, giving his brown eyes an otherworldly glint.
In that moment, illuminated by the pale beam, he looked almost demonic, his features twisted by the play of light and shadow.
"I'll be back shortly, cher," he hummed with a smile, adjusting the bag over his shoulder. You couldn't help but notice a darkened spot on his brown coat, the collar of his white button-up now stained with crimson. "Stay here."
With that, he disappeared into the darkness, his figure swallowed by the shadows of the forest, leaving you alone amidst the looming trees.
Time stretched on endlessly, each minute feeling like an eternity as you stood alone. Faintly, you could hear the distant sound of Alastor's shovel breaking through the earth's surface, its metallic scrape and the muffled thud as it struck the soil sending another wave of nausea curling in your gut, each noise a grim reminder of the task at hand.
All you wanted was to escape, to return to the safety of your quaint house in the city.
More than anything, you longed to open a bottle of whiskey, to drown your fears and sorrows in its comforting embrace. Maybe have a second, or a third, and just forget.
Forget about all of this. Forget it all ever happened. But deep down, you knew that no amount of alcohol could erase the memories of tonight, each image now etched into your mind like scars on your soul.
All of a sudden, a rustling sound behind you sent a jolt of adrenaline through your veins, followed by the distant but unmistakable bark of dogs. The sound seemed to come from all directions, surrounding you in a menacing chorus.
With a sharp gasp, you spun round and round in a whirl, your vision tunneling with fear as you scanned the darkness, eyes wide and frantic. Every rustle of the leaves, every snap of a twig, seemed to magnify the sense of dread that gripped you. Your breaths came in ragged gasps, the cool night air burning in your lungs as you struggled to keep your composure.
And then, without warning, something lunged from the darkness, a blur of movement that sent your heart racing even faster. Instinct took over, and without thinking, you raised the gun and fired, the deafening sound reverberating through the silent forest.
You gasped for air, the rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins as you found yourself sitting on the damp, muddy ground. The recoil of the gun had sent you sprawling backward, leaving you disoriented and breathless.
With trembling hands, you clutched the gun closer to your chest, the cold metal providing a shaky sense of security in the darkness. Despite the fear coursing through your veins, a surge of determination propelled you forward, your muscles tensed and ready for whatever danger lay ahead. Scrambling to your feet, you pushed yourself onward.
Each step was punctuated by the crunch of underbrush beneath your boots, the sound amplifying in the stillness of the forest. Amidst the shadows and foliage, you caught a blur of brown, relief flooding through you like a wave crashing against the shore.
Oh, heavens, it was just a deer.
As you trudged towards the poor animal, your foot caught on a branch, and you stumbled, the unforgiving forest floor meeting your body with a painful thud. In the fall, your gun slipped from your grasp, skidding off into the shadows.
Wincing, you pushed yourself up to your knees, the earthy scent of decay mingling with the metallic tang of blood. You looked toward the fallen creature, its form now visible in the dim moonlight filtering through the trees. But as you crawled over, dread crept into your heart.
There, lying face down on the dirt, was Alastor, his once-immaculate brown coat now dirtied, blending seamlessly with mud. His glasses lay shattered and discarded in front of him, glinting faintly in the dim moonlight that danced across the forest floor. A pool of crimson blood seeped from his head, staining the earth beneath him.
Your eyes widened with renewed horror as the truth dawned upon you, and you fell onto your back, scrambling away from the corpse of your husband, the damp earth sticking to your palms as you clawed at the ground in your panic.
The bark of the dogs were louder now, closer. Ignoring the dizzy vertigo in your head, you pushed yourself to your feet, your senses on high alert.
You choked out a broken apology but found that you could not hear it, that you could not make any sound at all.
You breathed, it was all you could do, all you could manage at the moment, and with the terrible weight on your chest, even that was made difficult.
What have you done?
˚୨୧₊♱
"Salutations! It's Tom back on the airwaves! Hold onto your hats because we've got some news that'll knock your socks off! Alastor Caron, the big shot radio host and husband of underground singer Dolly, also known as Y/N Caron, has been found pushing up daisies out in the sticks of Louisiana!
That's right, folks, he's dead!
Word on the street is, ol' Alastor met our maker with a bullet to the head in what can only be described as a real tragic whodunit. Sources close to the case are whispering in the wind, suggesting that Dolly herself might be mixed up in this spicy little affair. The coppers found her fingerprints on the gun! Can you believe it?! Stay tuned as we peel back the curtain and spill the tea on this sto—"
You shut the radio off with a frustrated slam of your fist, the sound echoing through the desolate living room.
Eviction papers and newspapers, crumpled and worn from countless readings, are strewn haphazardly across the table.
"Gone Girl," "Husband-killer," "Missing Marionette," "A Doll's Vanishing Act," "Manhunt underway for Suspected Murderer," "Louisiana Radio Host dead; Wife blamed."
The headlines scream, each word a painful reminder of the nightmare engulfing your life.
Empty bottles litter around you, their contents spilled and forgotten, the sharp scent of alcohol mingling with the drowning feeling of grief that permeates the room. Sirens wail in the distance while red and blue lights dance along the walls, cast by the dim light filtering through tightly shut curtains.
As you reach for another bottle, the drinks blur into one another, their labels indistinguishable in the dark room. The burning sensation as the liquid courses down your throat offers temporary relief from the turmoil raging inside your mind, numbing the pain and grief threatening to consume you. Each sip takes you further into a haze.
The room spins around you, items warping and dancing in a twisted mockery of your predicament. There are whispers now, soft and insidious, slithering into your ears like serpents. You try to push away the accusing voices echoing in your mind, drowning them out with your bottle's numbing embrace. But with each passing moment, the weight of the accusations grows heavier, dragging you deeper into despair.
Nausea churns in the pit of your stomach, and you finally stop moving, the dizziness overwhelming you. A deathly coldness settles over you, seeping into your bones like icy tendrils, causing you to shiver involuntarily. Your fingers lose their grip on the bottle, and it crashes to the ground with a shattering sound that echoes in the stillness of the room, shards of glass scattering across the floor like stars falling from the sky. You follow suit, collapsing onto the floor, limbs heavy and muscles twitching.
You stare vacantly ahead, unable to move, your eyes glazed over with a hollow emptiness as a sense of dread washes over you, suffusing the air with an oppressive weight. Each breath feels like a battle, your chest tightening with every inhalation, as if your lungs were filled with water.
Your breaths grow more labored, each one shallower than the last, until they eventually cease altogether, leaving you gasping for air that refuses to come.
The world around you fades into darkness, the edges of your vision blurring as consciousness slips away, leaving you engulfed in a silence broken only by the faint echo of your last heartbeat.
˚୨୧₊♱
There was screaming.
Footsteps thudded along a path nearby, accompanied by the fluttering of wings as creatures soared overhead.
You awaken with a startle, disoriented and groggy.
Slowly sitting up, you find yourself surrounded by a crimson landscape, a pentagram shimmering ominously in the air above you. As you move, your hand sinks into something cold and wet, a sickening squelch accompanying the sensation.
Horror grips you as you realize your hand is touching a corpse, its monstrous form adorned with twisted horns, jagged tails, and rows of sharp teeth. The pair of lifeless eyes shift and stare into you, devoid of any trace of humanity.
Frozen with terror and panic, you scramble away from the grotesque sight, the ground slick with crimson ichor, each step leaving bloody handprints and footprints in your wake.
The evening light of this place reveals a grim environment surrounding you – a lumpy, uneven field of corpses and bones, a mass grave unlike any you've ever seen. But these corpses are not human; they are demonic, twisted and contorted in death.
Before you can even make sense of this grotesque scene, a spear slices through the air, its sharp tip gleaming in the dim light. With a thud, it embeds itself into the ground beside you. A sharp, stinging sensation follows as your cheeks burn, crimson liquid trailing down your skin.
Gasping for breath, you look up and catch sight of a figure soaring overhead, its massive wings spread wide against the crimson sky. Each beat sends a gust of wind rushing past you, whipping your hair around your face. The figure's single eye fixates on you, its gaze piercing through the darkness, the other obscured by a large 'X' mark.
Adrenaline surges through your veins as you run away, the cold sweat of fear prickling your skin.
Your surroundings blur into a chaotic whirlwind as you race through the labyrinthine alleys of Hell. With every stride, your heart pounds in your chest like a drum. Each footfall echoes in the narrow passageways, the walls closing in around you like a vice, but the chase of the angel behind you drives you forward, your muscles burning with exertion as you push yourself to your limits.
Suddenly, you're yanked to a stop, your body colliding with a stone floor as you're pulled into a hidden doorway. Pain shoots through your arm, and you wince, clutching it tightly against your chest. It throbs with a dull ache, bruised from the fall.
As you cautiously lift your gaze, you find yourself in a familiar setting—a speakeasy, though more rugged and rundown than you were used to. The air is thick with the scent of cigarette smoke and stale alcohol. Mismatched furniture and a barely held-together bar give the place a sense of makeshift charm.
"Well, look who it is."
The voice freezes you in place, and your eyes nervously move upward to see a familiar blonde woman before you, her sharp teeth glinting in the dim light, her eyes dark and intense.
"Mimzy?" you whisper, disbelief coloring your voice.
"It's me!" she cheers, swinging her legs and jazzing her arms up in the air. With a jump, she plops onto the ground, circling your hunched-over form with a mischievous grin. "How you doin', Dolly?"
"How?" your mind scrambles. "You-You…"
"I know! You thought I was dead?" she snickers before knocking you upside the head playfully. "Welcome to the afterlife, you ditz!"
"What?" you rasp, eyes frantically darting from her to your surroundings. "What are you talking about? Why do you look like that?!"
"Look what? Adorable~?" Mimzy hums and waltzes over to a gramophone, inserting a disk and starting a scratching melody that fills the speakeasy.
Hello, Dolly!
Well, hello, Dolly!
It's so nice to have you back where you belong~
"Come on, Dolly," Mimzy says, her voice low and melodic as she sways to the music. The bedazzled fringes of her dress sparkle in the dim light as she twirls, her heels dragging along the floorboards. "You haven't been living under a rock, have you? Or did'ja just arrive?"
You're lookin' swell, Dolly
I can tell, Dolly
You're still glowin', you're still crowin'
You're still goin' strong
"I don't understand," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggle to comprehend what's happening. Everything feels like a dream—a nightmare, more accurately. "Where am I? What's going on?"
"We're both dead," Mimzy chuckles, tapping her heels along to the beat.
We feel the room swayin'
While the band's playin'
One of your old favourite songs from way back when
"What do you mean?" you manage to croak out, the words barely audible over the music.
Mimzy pauses mid-twirl. "Oh, Dolly," she sighs, shaking her head. "Hell, darling. We're in Hell."
Your blood runs cold at her words, the reality of your situation sinking in like a heavy weight on your chest. The memories of that fateful night flood your mind, filling you with a sense of guilt and despair.
Before you can voice your thoughts, Mimzy grabs your hand and pulls you into a dance, the gramophone's melody swirling around you like a sinister lullaby.
"So, take her wrap, fellas," Mimzy sings along, her laughter echoing off the walls. Her eyes gleam with a mischievous light as she leads you through the steps of the choreography you once knew so well. She twirls you around and drops you into a dip. "Find her an empty lap, fellas!"
"Dolly'll never go away again~"
You feel a surge of frustration building within you, the absurdity of overwhelming your senses. With a shout of anger, you push Mimzy away, a scowl etched deep on your face. She stumbles back, nearly losing her balance in her heels, her smile fading into a look of annoyance.
"Will you cut it out!" you snap, your voice echoing in the empty speakeasy. "Tell me what's going on!"
"Killjoy." Mimzy rolls her eyes and lets out a scoff, a smirk playing at the corner of her lips. She moves over to the gramophone and turns it off, the melody abruptly silenced.
"I just told you what was going on, you doof!" Mimzy retorts, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. The speakeasy falls into an uneasy silence, the air thick with tension, broken only by the faint sound of distant screams echoing outside the building. You gesture toward the source of the noise with a look of shock.
"Alright, I know well enough why I'm here, but what is that?" you inquire, your voice tinged with apprehension.
"An extermination. Angels come here to rid of sinners and such," Mimzy shrugs, her expression nonchalant despite the gravity of her words.
"Well, what about Alastor?" you press, the worry evident in your voice.
Mimzy's expression darkens, a flicker of anger crossing her features before she quickly masks it with a smirk. "Oh, you mean your darling husband? He's probably causing chaos somewhere, as usual. He'll be fine."
"I don't think he even knows you're here," she adds on with a yawn. "He probably thinks you're up in the shiny gates of heaven with his momma or something."
"Al knows I'm already dead?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
"Yup!" Mimzy chirps, her grin widening. "Your death came out in the news months ago. But only Lord knows why it took 'em so long to get you through purgatory."
The barrage of new information leaves you dizzy, your head spinning with the implications. "Wait—my death? The news?"
Mimzy moves over to the bar, kneeling down the worn floorboards as she digs through the bottom drawers.
"Didja know there's this little killin' business in Hell? I.M.P.—the Immediate Murder Professionals. And there's this cute little fella named Blitzo who does deliveries for me. I was his first costumer and poor guy needs the extra money so—"
"Mimzy, why are you telling me this?" you interject, confusion evident in your tone.
Mimzy's grin widens as she peeks at you from over the counter, her eyes gleaming with mischief.
"Well, sweetcheeks," she purrs, continuing to leaf through piles of paper, "if you paid attention to their name, they do murder. Murder in the human world, to be exact. And I hired them to go snuff you out!"
"But lo and behold, to my surprise," Mimzy continues, her tone laced with amusement, "you did their job for 'em! And this is what they brought back as proof."
With a flourish, Mimzy procures a newspaper from the depths of the cabident, her hands waving it around in excitement. She throws it to you, and you catch it, fumbling to see the headline. Your stomach churns as you take in the bold letters.
'LAST SWING: Speakeasy Star Suspected of Husband's Murder Dies in Alcohol Overdose.'
"Hi-larious!" Mimzy snorts as she presses a finger against the title, her expression gleeful. You hold the paper up, your hands trembling as you read through the article detailing your own death.
With a cackle, Mimzy jumps onto a nearby table, her movements lithe and energetic as she snatches the paper away from you.
"So, did'ja do it?" she taunts, leaning in close to your face with a devilish grin. "Didn't take you as the type. What was it? Poison? Housewife classic, I tell ya. Maybe a knife? Good ole push him down the stairs? Or was it a gun?"
You tense up at her last words, a cold sweat breaking out on your forehead. Mimzy smirks, her snicker ringing out like a sinister melody. Curls bounce around her face as she leans in closer, her lips practically ghosting against your cut.
"You shot him?"
"I—" you stutter, your breath catching in your throat as you run a hand through your frazzled hair, the disheveled strands tangling under your trembling fingers. "I didn't mean to! Heavens. I thought he was a deer!"
At that, Mimzy bursts out in loud laughter, tears streaming down her face as she clutches her stomach, doubling over with mirth. The sound echoes off the grimy walls of the speakeasy.
"Is that right?" she wheezes between fits of laughter, slapping her knee while still shaking with amusement. "No wonder he looks like a deer! Oh! The irony!"
"Deer?" you whisper out in confusion, your mind struggling to grasp the implications of her words amidst the chaos of her laughter. She laughs even harder at your response, kicking her feet in the air with unrestrained glee.
After a few minutes, she finally calms down. With a skip in her step and a glint in her eyes, she saunters over to you. Humming a tune, Mimzy twirls around you again, her movements fluid and graceful despite her earlier outburst.
"I know something you don't know~" she sings.
"What do you mean?" you frown, your voice trembling as you gaze at her, searching for any hint of what she's hiding.
"All in good time. I've told you a lot already, didn't I?" Mimzy replies cryptically, her tone snappy. "Let's see—I graciously saved you from that angel that was ready to spill your guts out, I've given you a wonderful welcome, helped you learn about your death, and, well, you were involved in my murder. I'd say the scales aren't balanced! You owe me. A lot."
Guilt churns in your gut as you nervously wring your hands. "Mimzy, no words can express how much guilt I feel about your—"
"Oh, cut the weeping dame bullshit. I don't care about that," Mimzy interrupts with a roll of her eyes and a wave of her hand. Her eyes gleam with a predatory intensity as she leans in closer.
"I'm feeling generous today," she purrs, her voice dripping with honeyed venom. "So, I'll make you a deal."
You eye her warily, the guilt in your gut twisting into a knot of apprehension. Despite your unease, you nod, silently urging her to continue, bracing yourself for whatever devil's bargain she has in store.
"In exchange for absolving your involvement in my murder and providing information on your husband," she whispers, her voice dripping with malice, "you'll owe me a favor. A big one. I want you to work for me again."
You tense, your mind racing as you process her proposition, a knot forming in the pit of your stomach. "What?"
Mimzy's smirk widens at your reaction, her eyes gleaming with amusement as she relishes in your discomfort. "That's right, sugar. I want you back on the job, working for me just like old times."
"Well I… I don't have much of a choice, do I?" you reply, clenching your fists in frustration.
Mimzy's laughter reverberates through the speakeasy, each chuckle sending shivers down your spine.
"Of course not! Would you prefer to go running to Alastor instead? Oh, dear hubby, please shield me from the consequences of my sins! My apologies for putting a bullet in your skull!" she mocks your voice, drawling the syllables out as she clasps her hands together and bats her eyes at you.
A surge of humiliation and guilt washes over you, weighing heavy on your shoulders as you struggle to come to terms with the choices before you.
You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing thoughts. Despite the overwhelming guilt and shame swirling within you, you know that you're cornered. Mimzy has you right where she wants you, and the only way out is to play her game.
"Fine," you say through gritted teeth, your voice tinged with resignation. "I'll work for you again."
Mimzy's grin widens, her sharp teeth flashed at you. "Excellent choice, darling. You won't regret it."
With a snap of her fingers, a contract materializes in her hand. She hands it over to you, and you read through it. Funnily enough, it looks almost identical to your previous employment contract in the living with her, but one detail catches your eye.
"To settle the debt incurred due to the aforementioned act, Y/N Caron, acknowledging the gravity of her transgressions, agrees to become a singer for Mimzy's Lounge for a duration of ten decades," you read the line in shock. Turning to Mimzy, you clutch the contract tightly, your nails threatening to break the paper. "Ten decades?!"
"What?" Mimzy scoffs, her voice dripping with derision. "You stuck here for all of eternity anyways, and so is your husband. Might as well do something."
With a theatrical flourish, Mimzy reaches into her chest and pulls out a pen, waggling it teasingly in your face. "So? What will it be? Are ya gonna sign the contract? Or am I gonna have to throw you out where those angels can tear you to pieces?"
You read through the contract again, your eyes frantically scanning the paper for any loophole or escape route, but you come up empty-handed. With a sinking feeling in your chest, you realize that you're in this for the long haul.
"But what about Alastor?" you pressed, urgency creeping into your voice.
Mimzy's laughter filled the speakeasy, bouncing off the walls like mocking echoes. "Oh, sweetheart," she cooed with faux sympathy, "haven't you read the fine print? Your dear Alastor is strictly off-limits. Can't have him interfering with our little arrangement, now can we?"
"But… I need to see him," you pleaded, desperation lacing your words.
Mimzy's smirk widened into a wicked grin as she leaned in closer, mischief gleaming in her eyes. "And I need to make sure my end of the deal is fulfilled," she countered firmly.
Glancing down at the contract, you saw her pointing to a specific section. "Y/N Caron's husband, Alastor Caron, is strictly forbidden from being physically present around her in any way, shape, or form for the safety and integrity of this agreement."
"But… can't we find some middle ground?" you asked, a sliver of hope lingering in your voice.
"Ah, I've got an idea," Mimzy grinned , reaching into her drawer and pulling out an old radio. She extended it towards you. "You can talk with him as much as you like. This little radio will be your hotline to him. But there's a catch: he stays far, far away from you and this joint. How's that sound?"
Twisting the radio in your trembling hands, you felt the weight of the decision settle heavily on your shoulders. The device seemed ancient, its surface worn and its knobs slightly rusted, yet it held the power to bridge the seemingly insurmountable gap between you and Alastor. With a heavy sigh, you reluctantly brought the pen to the paper, the ink blotting the sheet as you signed your name away, sealing your fate.
"It's a deal."
#sephiewrites#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel imagine#alastor imagine#hazbin imagine#hazbin hotel x you#alastor x you#hazbin x you#hazbin x reader#hazbin hotel#alastor#hazbin vox#hazbin hotel velvette
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some carm + jewelry thoughts after reading your blurb about his dangling chain:
-he buys you a gold anklet with a “c” charm on it so he can watch it dangle when he puts your legs up on his shoulders to fuck you
-he has a signet ring embossed with a design (maybe a bear? st anthony? family crest?) and he turns it so the design is facing inwards and he spanks you so it leaves a brand on your ass
-after the big checks start coming in he buys you an exorbitantly expensive necklace and fucks you with nothing else on
omfggggg smut ahead minors dni 18+ but i have to elaborate
ok number one the anklet???? yes. yes. yes.
you mention wanting one, sorta in passing, and carmen's like weirdly adamant about you getting one lol??? you don't really understand why but he shows up a few days later with one you'd shown him online, except it has an embellishment. a tiny 'c'.
carmen's kinda blushy about it but you're beaming and squealing and just smothering him in affection bc it was so cute and sweet, and he really was too!!
then you quickly realize why carmen likes the anklet so much when he's putting it on you, then your legs are up in the air thirty minutes later as a "thank you".
your heels are digging into his shoulders, and normally his eyes are on you solely when he's fucking you especially like this. but you keep catching him staring at your anklet, fucking you hard, gripping your claves while he watches it bounce lightly.
maybe it's the thought that he has a sorta mark on you now. wherever you go, you've got something that symbolizes your his- that he's yours.
it was his grandfathers, then mikey's, and then his. mikey gave it to him when carmen went to new york because "you're a big shot now. need the ring to match since you're gonna be goin' to all that fancy shit, carm."
the ring was gold with a black onyx surface, a gold encrusted 'B' in old english font laid on top so it stood up. carmen didn't wear it often, didn't want to lose it or damage it, but every now and then- on date night, mainly, he'd wear it.
and you loved it.
the chain, nice outfit, plus pinky ring? you were drooling. watching him grab the door handle, cut your food, hold your hand in the car. you couldn't help yourself. he knew you couldn't either. it's why when you got home, he just nodded and you were over his lap.
carmen would take his time pushing up your dress, letting his hand glide over the small of your back, down your exposed cheeks, smug at the way you shuddered in excitement. he'd turn the ring around so the etched side was inwards, cracking his hand down on your ass over and over.
you'd squirm and mewl, gripping onto his legs or the sheets. carmen would just stare, mesmerized by the faint emblem showing on your skin only for a flash before fading.
the bear had made the chicago tribune after a raving review from a lifestyle travel influencer posted a video on the menu and it went wild. you were booked a year out, a waitlist a mile long, a million newspapers, magazines, and interviewers wanting a chance to write about the bear. it was buzzing around chicago, and carmen couldn't be happier. or busier.
he felt bad that with the newfound press, he'd been busy. you'd always been understanding but still, he felt bad, heart breaking every time your shoulders would fall when he said he had to work.
the two of you had just moved into the brownstone. you spent your days decorating and unboxing, showing him swatches of paint that you'd mull over for hours.
"carm, which one looks better?" you'd ask, turning around to see him standing there. only this time, he wasn't empty handed.
the infamous teal bag in hand, grinning at you proudly. "what's this?"
"a gift." carmen shrugged, pulling you over to the couch, setting you between his thighs.
you hummed, unraveling the tiny box. "you really didn't have to get me- oh my god." you were expecting a tiny piece of jewelry, not the dazzling strand of diamonds that sat on the tennis bracelet.
"carmen." you gaped, snapping the box shut, holding it against your chest. "how-how much was this?"
"doesn't matter." carmen shrugged, prying it gently out of your grasp. "let me put it on you. i wanted to get you somethin'. the restaurant is doin'... great. and ya know, i couldn't do it without you baby."
you pressed him about the price, but carmen waived it off. you knew he'd been making money- your new house and car told you that, but the kind of money to casually get gifts at tiffany's? it was new to you. a splurge still, but one that you treasured.
carmen left the necklace on, hips rolling while he fucked you in front of the fireplace, right on the new rug. he wanted to take a picture of the moment, watching you ride him, your head tipped back, diamonds sparkling still even in the low glow of the fire.
#thebearer#carmen berzatto#bearblahs#carmy berzatto#the bear#carmen berzatto smut#carmy berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto fluff#carmen berzatto fic#carmy smut#carmen berzatto x you#carmy berzatto x you#carmy x reader#the bear fx#carmy the bear#the bear season 2#carmen berzatto fanfiction#carmy berzatto fluff
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what's ur process for identifying cars? like what features do u look at and so on?
oh hell yeah i assume you’ve seen my other blog lol, yeah a lot of it is just years of paying attention to them and design trends, so i can usually place a general era and brand based on what logos i see, what some companies design languages were at different times, body styles, stuff like that. so even if i can’t identify an exact model, i can look at a big long boxy sedan in usually rather muted colors with a long hood but sleek profile with rectangular headlights and a specific hood emblem and know it’s a cadillac from the 70s or 80s. if i don’t know more than a brand and general era i’ll usually have to do a bit of googling but just having that preliminary knowledge helps narrow it down.
for a lot of relatively common or newer cars i usually just recognize them, i’ve hyperfixated on cars for almost 20 years, used to get tons of car enthusiast magazines and still engage with a lot of enthusiast media, so i kind of just know a shit ton of them. then it’s usually just googling to check my work/intuition and get an exact year or range of years. like i identified a toyota 4runner and specific generation of it in a video where a lot of the more obvious identifying features were only visible for a second, but in that second i recognized it even at a glimpse because i am just somebody who could recognize a car from a taillight in the dark when i was like 9. or in cases where it’s a closeup shot, like the toyota highlander from the daffy duck fish sticker post, all i had was a cut off bit of the text and the bottom of a taillight, but i know the highlander model and could estimate the general era of car based on the shape and moulding of the body contours and taillights, and narrowed it down further based on differences in the tail light housings between generations
i know that was a long explanation that probably made only so much sense but the tl;dr is autism :3
#mothman answers#thank you anon for the question!#gonna reblog it to the related sideblog too#maybe even pin it
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film critic angelica jade bastién being swarmed by the beyhive (who is of course attempting to put her out of a job) over her negative review of the renaissance tour film which I think is an incredible piece of writing wholly appropriate for the time,
With “Formation” from 2016’s Lemonade, Beyoncé alchemized the aesthetics of Black radicalism. In the video, she is splayed out on a cop car in New Orleans that descends into murky waters. In her Super Bowl performance from that year, she and her dancers were decked in an all-black ensemble with raised fists meant to evoke the style of the Black Panthers without the group’s moral clarity and political conviction. When Beyoncé uses their aesthetic along with the words of Malcolm X, it behooves audiences and critics alike to hold her to a greater standard. Her apoliticism should not slide by. It should be noted that Renaissance is playing in Israel, which has led to “Break My Soul” becoming an anthem of sorts for Israelis waving their flag in screenings. Beyoncé has yet to make a statement about Palestine. But this silence is itself a statement. Perhaps she isn’t apolitical so much as an emblem of Black capitalism and wealth that seeks to maintain its stature. Renaissance: A Film demonstrates that Black joy isn’t inherently radical. In fact, without a sense of materiality, Black joy becomes directionless and easy to co-opt by the varied forces of power that are fueled by anti-Blackness. Beyoncé is an icon who has carefully maintained a sense of accessibility to anyone, anywhere, for any reason. Black musical traditions may have the potential for radicalism, but Beyoncé’s neutrality demonstrates they aren’t inherently that way. More than anything, Renaissance is a testament that Beyoncé is a brand that stands for absolutely nothing beyond its own greatness.
#I just posted her piece on camp so it’s no secret I enjoy her work a lot and read her whenever I can#angelica jade bastién
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Can you do rusty nail x male reader
❝road side rescue❞
✭ pairing : rusty nail x male reader
✭ fandom : slashers, joyride
✭ summary : here’s a little look into the life of rusty and his partner met
✭ authors note : no lie all these requests pouring in are becoming overwhelming :( don’t get me wrong I’m happy I’m getting them but it’s like they coming in back to back and it scares me that I won’t have enough time for myself and my own writing ideas
✭ slashers masterlist
The rhythmic hum of the tires on the asphalt was the only sound that accompanied (m/n) on his journey down south to visit his beloved Nana and Pa. He'd been driving for hours, the open road stretching out before him like an endless ribbon of possibilities. The radio played a soft country tune, setting the mood for the picturesque drive through the countryside.
Just when (m/n) was lost in thought, the tranquility of the moment was shattered by a loud, unmistakable "pop." His car shuddered as he instinctively gripped the steering wheel. (M/n)’s heart sank as he realized what had just happened - a flat tire. He cursed under his breath, pulling over to the side of the road.
"Damn it," he muttered, frustration welling up. He gave the steering wheel a few frustrated thumps with his palm, as if it would magically fix the situation. But the sky above had different plans. Dark clouds rolled in, and within moments, the heavens opened up, drenching (m/n) and his car.
With a sigh, (m/n) reached for the car's radio. He figured he might as well try to call for help. He fiddled with the dial until he found a frequency that wasn't just static.
"Hello? Can anyone hear me?" (M/n) spoke into the microphone, his voice crackling through the speakers.
Silence hung in the air for a moment, and (m/n) was beginning to lose hope when a voice finally responded from the other end, "Hey there, buddy, what seems to be the problem?"
(M/n) was relieved to hear a friendly voice. "I'm stuck on the side of the road," he explained, "my car's tires popped, and I don't have a spare. I'm on my way to visit my Nana and Pa, and I can't leave them waiting."
The voice on the other end sounded thoughtful. "Well, that's no good. What kind of car are you driving?"
(M/n) leaned over and peered at the emblem on the steering wheel. "It's a classic [brand]."
There was a pause, and then the voice responded, "You won't believe it, but I've got the same car. I can swing by my place, grab you a spare tire, and help you out."
Gratitude washed over (m/n). "That would be a lifesaver! Thank you so much. By the way, what's your name?"
The voice on the other end chuckled. "You can call me Rusty Nail."
(M/n) couldn't help but smile at the unique nickname. "Alright, Rusty Nail, I really appreciate your help. I'll wait here for you."
As the rain poured down and the minutes passed, (m/n) couldn't help but wonder about the mysterious stranger who had come to his rescue.
(M/n) sat in his car, the rain drumming relentlessly on the roof. The minutes dragged on as he waited for the mysterious Rusty Nail, who had promised to rescue him from his flat tire predicament. The radio continued to play softly in the background, its soothing tunes doing little to ease (m/n)’s impatience.
Suddenly, the sound of a roaring engine filled the air, and (m/n) looked up to see a massive truck pulling up beside him. Out from the driver's seat, a man jumped with an agility that defied his trucker image. The rain poured down on him, but he didn't seem to mind as he approached (m/n)’s window.
(M/n)’s heart raced as the man knocked on the window. Despite the rain clouding his vision, he could make out the stranger's imposing build. The sight of the man made him blush, though he wasn't sure why.
"You the fellow from the radio?" the man asked, his voice gruff yet friendly.
(M/n) swallowed hard, feeling a bit flustered. "Y-yes, that's me," he replied, his voice trembling slightly.
The stranger extended a hand through the open window, and (m/n) took it, feeling the warmth of the man's palm. The rain continued to pour, and (m/n) held up a big flashlight to illuminate the area as the stranger got to work fixing the tire.
With practiced efficiency, the man changed the flat tire with a spare, his muscles flexing under his soaked shirt. (M/n) couldn't help but steal glances, admiring the man's backside. He quickly averted his gaze when he realized he'd been caught staring.
After finishing the task, the man leaned against the car's hood, a smug smirk on his face. "Aren't you going to thank your savior?" he teased, his tone playful.
(M/n)’s cheeks turned a deeper shade of red as he stammered out a grateful, "Th-thank you."
The man chuckled, a deep and hearty sound. "Don't mention it, kid. Just doing my good deed for the day."
Realizing he hadn't introduced himself, (m/n) felt a pang of embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I never go to tell you my name."
The man waved it off with a dismissive gesture. "Don't sweat it. I already know your name."
Mark blinked in surprise. "How?"
The man simply grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Let's just say I have my ways. You take care now." With that, he turned and walked back to his truck, his broad shoulders disappearing into the rain-soaked night.
As the truck rumbled to life and drove away, (m/n) was left sitting in his car, still slightly bewildered by the encounter. Who was this enigmatic man named Rusty Nail, and how did he know his name?
#x reader#x reader one shot#x reader oneshot#rusty nail#rusty nail x reader#rusty nail x you#rusty nail x y/n#rusty nail imagine#rusty nail imagines#joyride imagine#joyride x reader#joyride x y/n#joyride imagines#joyride rusty nail#slashers masterlist#slashers x y/n#slashers imagine#slashers x male reader#slash fanfiction#slashers x you#slashers fanfiction#slashers x reader#slashers imagines#slashers
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Me on my way to quiz R's car knowledge: so do you have c5 or c6 corvette?
Oh, you might be surprised by how much R knows about cars, especially their emblems/brand quality and design, but also some of the mechanics. 🚗 (Imagine R in mechanic coveralls though. 🥵) We will get into why later on. But I'll say that R-mancers do get a chance to learn more about R's vintage convertible collection in Book Two; a certain someone might have inspired a more recent purchase for R.
Also, it was fun to research that many cars for R's benefit/variation.
A corvette is one of the outcomes! 👀
Book One Launch Post💚 |TFS Patreon🌲
New TFS Patreon benefits, including spicy stories 🔥, monthly alpha content drops ✨, and more! Please check it out: here. If you enjoyed your time in Fernweh, please consider reviewing/rating it. 🥰
#interactive fiction#honestly R is so smitten with the MC despite all of their charm and intensity; my gosh#S and J: *seeing how R acts around the MC compared to everyone else* >.>#*peeta mellark voice* it's too bad about the angst#reese verner#ruby verner#fernweh saga#who do queue think you are?#asks
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Spider Knight 7: Cat Burglar
Jaune was on top of a roof eating a sandwich while looking at the city until his scroll started to vibrate he would pick it up to see who was calling him he would notice it was nora so he answered the call.
Jaune: Hi Nora, is everything okay there in Beacon?
Nora: Ah yes, everything is fine here, I just called you to see if your night shift is going well and if you're okay.
Jaune: Well yuri told me to be careful because there are a lot of cases of thefts but the only thing I see and did was stop a little lady from being robbed and look, she bought me a sandwich!
Nora: Well, if the city is so calm and safe, why not come back here and rest?
Jaune: Eh, maybe you're right…
While jaune answered he would look and see a schnee brand truck being followed by a car with some suspicious figures inside so he would get up and put on his mask threw his webs on a building and followed the truck and the car.
Spider Knight: So nora I'm going to have to hang up it looks like the ''interesting thing'' is happening.
Nora: Hm ok but if the situation gets complicated you call me and I'll be there as soon as possible to help you!
Spider Knight would answer nora and disconnect the call and follow the two vehicles until they arrived at the vale docks. Spider knight hid in one of the buildings he had nearby and saw the strange car hiding in an alley while the truck entered the docks and went to a shed that had the symbol of the schnee family.
Spider Knight (Mind): Maybe it's members of the white fang or roman's gang who are following that schnee company truck but why are they following them?
Spider knight is looking around until he saw a figure getting out of the car a woman with long black hair who was wearing a mask that hid her eyes along with a tactical black outfit. Spider knight would be curious about such a figure until he notices her coming out of the alley and sneaking into the docks.
Spider Knight (Mind):My night is only getting weirder and more curious…
Jaune would disengage from the building that was supported and would enter the docks stealthily and see the mysterious figure on top of the shed's skylight and he would hide to prevent the figure from seeing him; Blaze cat would pull from his belt a device that would turn off all the electrical devices on the docks, thus turning off the robot guards and the fence gate, being able to let the mysterious car enter the docks; The car would enter and stop right in front of the shed and 3 figures with Xiong Family emblem would get out of the car and go to the shed gate, opening it and seeing that inside the shed there were several crates with the symbol of the schnee family.
Xiong Thug 1: So today is the day that that merchandise that Junior talked about would arrive?
Xiong Thug 2: Yes that's what he said and also the weapon we're looking for is in the biggest crate so look for it!
Xiong Thug 3: And the Girl who helped us what do we do with her?
The leader of that squadron would look at the two members of the Xiong Family and then at the black cat who was on the roof looking at them with a half sadistic smile, she would wave at the three.
Xiong Thug 2: Look, She helped us because of the payment Junior made to that guy Roman, We'll get the weapon and at the right time we'll finish off the human and say she died because of the police, okay?
The other 2 members of the Xiong Family agree with their leader's idea and go looking for the weapon until one of them finds a giant crate and it would open showing an armor reminiscent of a rhinoceros; While one of the members was connecting the armor, the other two were on guard and spider knight noticing that he saw the opportunity and approached until he was pulled by a rope and turned upside down and saw the mysterious figure in front of him.
Blaze Cat: Meow looks like I captured the great vale spider~
Spider Knight: Calm down cat lady I don't fight I'm just protecting private product.
Blaze Cat: The name is blaze cat and cats don't fight spiders~
Spider Knight activates the sword of his gauntlet, freeing himself from the straps and leaning on the wall, noticing that he would give a mortal being on the roof of the shed and spider knight followed the same, staying on top of the roof of the shed.
Blaze Cat: Wow spider, don't you remember the saying that playing with a cat always gets scratched~
Spider Knight: Hey, sorry miss, I'm more of a fan of dogs.
Blaze cat activates claws on his fingertips and goes up to spider knight trying to scratch him but he dodges and one of the dodges he throws his web trapping one of her hands but she breaks free tearing the web with the other claw and would look at him with a smile on her face.
Blaze Cat: I hope you don't get your goo in my hair~
Spider Knight: Don't worry, it comes off with ice or warm water.
He was dodging her blows until she caught one of his punches and brought her face closer to his with a malicious smile.
Blaze Cat: You know spider you have skills that nobody else has why not join me? we can make good money~
Spider Knight: Hmm and interesting but I might lose my superhero discount so no.
She let go of him giving a kick in his belly making him break the skylight and falling into the shed and Blaze fell together but carefully with the debris falling on top of the guard taking off that he was in the armor; Spider knight would look at the armor being turned on and she aimed the two cannons she had on her shoulders at blaze cat and spider knight and would start taking them out and the two dodged and used some crates as a defense.
Spider Knight: I thought these guys were your friends!
Blaze Cat: Well they're more like helpers but it looks like that one over there rebelled.
Spider knight's spider sense make him jump on top of blaze cat making the two get out of the way of rhino who left destroying everything in the shed with the armor.
Rhino: Sorry cat but your payment won't happen I already got what my boss needed haha!
Blaze Cat: Hey spider what do you think quick teamwork you can have the armor and the bad guy I'll just take my money.
Spider knight agreed with the idea of blaze cat and the two go on top of rino dodging his shots; Spider knight would launch his webs on some pieces of wood and throw it hard at rino making him focus on the spider; Blaze cat, seeing the opportunity, would grab some sand from his belt and use his semblance to make a glass bow with 3 heated arrows and shoot it at the armor's legs, causing the metal to melt, hindering his ability to move. Rino would shoot missiles that were attracted by heat and he would go in the direction of spider knight and blaze cat; Spider knight would look at arrows from blaze cat, note the heated tips, ask her to shoot one at him and she would shoot in the direction of spider knight who caught it making the missile focus on the arrow; Spider knight swings towards rino and throws the arrow and blaze cat will do the same. rino saw that laugh but noticed the two missiles hitting the armor in full making him fall in the street calling the attention of the police; A time would pass and rino was arrested and the armor taken to the laboratory of the city and spider knight was on top of a roof with blaze cat.
Spider Knight: You know you did a great heroin job. Why don't you drop those types of people and join the good guys?
Blaze cat heard that and would chuckle and approach spider knight and lift his mask a little and she would kiss his cheek making him blush and she would start running but before jumping to another building she would look at him smiling.
Blaze cat: I'm excited for our next date~
After she said that she would go jumping from building to building. Spider knight would just put his mask back on and go swinging towards the beacon.
Spider Knight (Mind): If I don't tell her what happened to me today, Nora is going to kill me.
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Post Credit
Blaze cat arrived at a shed where mercury emerald neo and roman were planning something she took off her mask showing that she was cinder and leaned on a table showing a group a tablet with a symbol of altas behind.
Cinder Fall: Well colleagues looks tall there are some interesting items that are being sent here because of the vytal tournament and one of them is a possible friend for us.
She would zoom in on a capsule codenamed ''V-635''
#rwby#rwby au#rwby crossover#marvel au#marvel crossover#spider man au#jaune arc#nora valkyrie#cinder fall#black cat#knight fall#jaune x cinder#spider man x black cat#knightfall#rwby knightfall
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Mercedes-Maybach S650 Cabriolet "The Ultimate Luxury Yacht".
A limited edition of 300.
The Mercedes-Maybach S 650 is based on the open-top S-Class and has adopted the latter’s classic aesthetic proportions, among other features, with highlights which include the dynamic silhouette with coupé-like soft top and the sidewall dropping line which slopes down towards the rear.
The high-end appointments in the interior make up part of the vehicle’s special characteristics. The drive system requirements are catered for by the 6.0-litre V12 engine with an output of 463kW (630hp) and 1000Nm of Torque.
Exclusive Mercedes-Maybach features.
Exclusive Mercedes-Maybach features include a new front bumper with upgraded lower section and also numerous chrome highlights to visibly enhance the special aspirations of luxury. The Maybach emblem is discreetly but elegantly featured on the vehicle’s wing. Other special elements on the exterior include the high-quality 20-inch Maybach forged wheels in a powerful design and a bichromatic finish. On opening the doors, the Maybach logo is projected onto the floor through entrance lighting.
The powertrain: A fitting biturbo V12.
The luxury cabriolet’s superior drive system relies on the 6.0-litre biturbo V12 engine with an output of 463kW (630hp) and 1000Nm of Torque. Power transmission to the rear axle comes courtesy of the 7G-TRONIC, while the AIRMATIC suspension with steplessly variable damping control ensures a special driving sensation.
Mercedes-AMG One man, one engine Handcrafted by Michael Kübler @f1mike28 in Germany Affalterbach. Driving Performance is my Passion! Mercedes-AMG the Performance and Sports Car Brand from Mercedes-Benz and Exclusive Partner for Pagani Automobili. Mercedes-AMG Handcrafted by Racers.
Fuel consumption combined: 12 l/100 km | CO2-Emissions combined: 272 g/km.
#amg#maybachs650cabriolet#s650cabriolet#maybachs650#s650#sclass#mercedesamg#mercedes#mercedesbenz#maybach#affalterbach#onemanoneengine
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From Classic to Electric: The Transformation of Iconic Car Models
Electric Revolution in the Automotive Industry
The automotive industry is undergoing a monumental shift, transitioning from the roar of gasoline engines to the hum of electric motors. This transformation is not just about the emergence of new electric vehicle (EV) brands, but also about the electrification of some of the world's most iconic car models. This transition to electric power is driven by a combination of environmental concerns, advancements in battery technology, and changing consumer preferences. The journey from classic internal combustion engines to electric powertrains has been both challenging and exciting, reshaping the automotive landscape as we know it.
The Resurgence of the Volkswagen Beetle
One of the most beloved car models in history, the Volkswagen Beetle, has made a comeback in an electric avatar. Originally launched in the 1930s, the Beetle became a symbol of simplicity and reliability. In recent years, Volkswagen announced plans to revive the Beetle as an electric car, part of its broader strategy to introduce more electric models. This new electric Beetle aims to combine nostalgia with modern EV technology, appealing to both classic Beetle lovers and new-age environmentalists. While retaining its iconic shape, the electric Beetle is expected to feature advanced technology like fast charging and a substantial range, catering to the needs of today's EV market.
The Electric Transition of the Ford Mustang
The Ford Mustang, an emblem of American muscle cars, has also embraced electrification. The Mustang Mach-E, an all-electric crossover, marks a significant departure from the classic Mustang's V8 engine tradition. Launched in 2020, the Mach-E combines the Mustang's legendary performance with the benefits of electric propulsion. It offers a range of up to 300 miles on a single charge and accelerates from 0 to 60 mph in just 3.5 seconds. The Mach-E has been well-received, signifying a successful blend of an iconic legacy with futuristic technology.
MINI Cooper's Electric Makeover
The MINI Cooper, known for its distinctive design and agile handling, has also joined the electric wave. The launch of the MINI Electric brings a new dimension to this British icon, maintaining its classic aesthetics while integrating cutting-edge EV technology. With a range of around 145 miles per charge and a 0 to 60 mph time of around 7 seconds, the MINI Electric retains the brand's fun-to-drive character. This transition reflects the brand's commitment to sustainability while preserving the essence that has made the MINI a popular choice for decades.
Porsche's Electrification with the Taycan
Porsche, synonymous with high-performance sports cars, has made a bold entry into the EV market with the Taycan. The Taycan is not just Porsche's first fully electric car but also a powerful statement in the luxury EV segment. With its exceptional performance, delivering up to 750 horsepower in the Turbo S model, and a range of up to 227 miles, the Taycan has set new standards for electric sports cars. It represents how traditional sports car manufacturers are adapting to the electric era without compromising on performance and luxury.
The Transition of Supercars to Electric Power
The shift to electric is not limited to mass-market models; even supercars are getting electric makeovers. Brands like Ferrari and Lamborghini, known for their powerful engines and exhilarating performance, are exploring electric and hybrid models. The move towards electrification in supercars is particularly significant, as it challenges the traditional notion that electric vehicles can't match the performance of gasoline-powered sports cars. This transition is a testament to the advancements in EV technology, where electric motors can deliver instant torque and unmatched acceleration.
Challenges and Future Prospects
Despite the excitement, the transition from classic to electric models poses significant challenges. These include maintaining brand identity, meeting consumer expectations for performance and range, and managing the higher production costs of EVs. However, the future looks promising as battery technology continues to improve, charging infrastructure expands, and public acceptance of EVs grows. The transformation of these iconic car models into electric versions is not just a trend but a glimpse into the future of transportation, where sustainability meets style and performance.
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Yellow Ferrari 458 Spider by The Beach ⛱️
Creating digital art can be an expressive and imaginative journey. Picture this: a stunning yellow Ferrari parked gracefully in the golden sands of a tranquil beach. The vibrant yellow hue of the car illuminates against the calming blue backdrop of the sea and sky, creating a mesmerizing contrast of colors.
The attention to detail in this digital masterpiece is truly mesmerizing. The sleek curves and sharp lines of the Ferrari are meticulously depicted, showcasing its powerful and luxurious design. Every glimmer of sunlight reflects off the car's glossy surface, adding a touch of realism and brilliance to the overall composition.
As the Ferrari rests by the beach, the artist has skillfully portrayed the surrounding environment, transporting the viewer to a world of serenity and relaxation. The gentle waves softly kiss the shore, while the endless expanse of the ocean stretches into the horizon, inviting a sense of freedom and tranquility.
The digital medium allows for a seamless blend of reality and artistic interpretation. Perhaps the artist has added elements such as palm trees swaying in the gentle breeze, seagulls gracefully gliding overhead, or distant sailboats dotting the horizon. These subtle touches breathe life into the artwork, capturing the essence of a peaceful coastal getaway.
In essence, this digital art piece of a yellow Ferrari by the beach serves as a captivating fusion of luxury, elegance, and escapism. It beckons viewers to immerse themselves in a world where the allure of high-performance automobiles meets the timeless allure of coastal serenity, evoking a sense of wanderlust and appreciation for the finer things in life.
The Ferrari brand is synonymous with prestige, performance, and timeless elegance. As I delve into highlighting some fascinating facts about the company, it's evident that Ferrari's rich history and unwavering commitment to excellence have solidified its status as a legendary automotive icon.
1. Enzo Ferrari: The company's legacy is deeply intertwined with the enigmatic figure of Enzo Ferrari, who founded Scuderia Ferrari in 1929. His relentless pursuit of perfection and passion for racing laid the foundation for a brand that is revered worldwide.
2. Prancing Horse: The iconic prancing horse emblem, a symbol of power and speed, has become synonymous with Ferrari. It was first adopted by Italian World War I hero Count Francesco Baracca, and after meeting Enzo Ferrari's father, it found its place on Ferrari's race cars, consolidating its identity.
3. Racing Heritage: Ferrari's roots in motorsport run deep—its early successes on the racetrack served as the catalyst for its enduring reputation. The brand's Formula One achievements are exceptional, with an unparalleled record of 16 Constructors' Championships and 15 Drivers' Championships.
4. Limited Production: Ferrari's exclusivity is underscored by its limited production approach. The company deliberately restricts the number of cars it manufactures annually, imbuing each model with a sense of rarity and desirability.
5. Technological Innovation: Ferrari's relentless drive for innovation is evident in its groundbreaking technology. From cutting-edge aerodynamics to pioneering hybrid powertrains, the company consistently pushes the boundaries of automotive engineering.
6. Design Excellence: Ferrari's design language is a study in elegance and performance. Each model is meticulously sculpted to marry breathtaking aesthetics with aerodynamic efficiency, epitomizing the marriage of form and function.
7. Global Icon: Beyond its automotive prowess, Ferrari has transcended the realm of automobiles to become a global luxury brand. Its merchandise, theme parks, and experiential offerings ensure that the Ferrari experience extends far beyond the racetrack.
In conclusion, Ferrari's enduring allure lies in its unique blend of heritage, innovation, and passion. As the company continues to evolve and expand its horizons, one thing remains unchanged—the unparalleled spirit of a prancing horse that continues to captivate automotive enthusiasts around the world.
How Do I Buy The Art??
(With 3 easy steps)
To purchase the digital download of a beautiful sports/luxury car in 3 easy steps using Cashapp:
1. Send $15 along with the name of the art piece and your email address to the seller's Cashapp account. ($MirrorEyesArt)
2. Allow 5-10 minutes for the seller to send the email containing your desired art piece to the provided email address.
3. Once you receive the email, simply click the download button on the image to save it to your device for personal use.
After purchasing the digital download, you can explore options for printing and enlarging the image at websites like "CanvasDiscount.com" for affordable prices compared to other competitors.
#sports cars#fast cars#cars#luxury cars#ferrari#laferrari#spyder#digital art#digital illustration#car art
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Found out about this just recently, Dodge is coming out with a new car called the Hornet with a little hornet bug emblem. They're copying AMC and it's the same official Hornet name because Chrysler owns both AMC and Dodge. It looks nothing like the AMC Hornet, or the Hudson Hornet for that matter when Hudson and Nash merged together to form American Motors. Yeah the AMC Hornet was a different design from the old Hudson but at least it was still nice. Dodge's Hornet looks more like a Subaru or that new electric Mustang that looks nothing like a Mustang.
Another thing to add while on this subject, Chrysler has pulled this same thing before in regards to AMC. A few year ago Chrysler came out with a new pickup truck under the Ram brand called the Rebel. That's taken from the AMC Rebel, The Machine - still the same legal property.
It was bad when AMC got dissolved when Chrysler bought them out in 1987 (so they could obtain Jeep from them), now AMC has been degraded into a spare parts bin for names. What a pathetic and undeserving way to be treated for such a great and underrated car manufacturer. To some I know they were only a car company but AMC was different and that's for another post. I want the old AMC back.
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"Her performance as an icon is meant to connect with the broadest number of people possible. To do that, her refusal to stand for anything specific beyond the watered-down treatises on Black excellence must be maintained.
"With “Formation” from 2016’s Lemonade, Beyoncé alchemized the aesthetics of Black radicalism. In the video, she is splayed out on a cop car in New Orleans that descends into murky waters. In her Super Bowl performance from that year, she and her dancers were decked in an all-black ensemble with raised fists meant to evoke the style of the Black Panthers without the group’s moral clarity and political conviction. When Beyoncé uses their aesthetic along with the words of Malcolm X, it behooves audiences and critics alike to hold her to a greater standard. Her apoliticism should not slide by. It should be noted that Renaissance is playing in Israel, which has led to “Break My Soul” becoming an anthem of sorts for Israelis waving their flag in screenings. Beyoncé has yet to make a statement about Palestine. But this silence is itself a statement. Perhaps she isn’t apolitical so much as an emblem of Black capitalism and wealth that seeks to maintain its stature. Renaissance: A Film demonstrates that Black joy isn’t inherently radical. In fact, without a sense of materiality, Black joy becomes directionless and easy to co-opt by the varied forces of power that are fueled by anti-Blackness. Beyoncé is an icon who has carefully maintained a sense of accessibility to anyone, anywhere, for any reason. Black musical traditions may have the potential for radicalism, but Beyoncé’s neutrality demonstrates they aren’t inherently that way. More than anything, Renaissance is a testament that Beyoncé is a brand that stands for absolutely nothing beyond its own greatness."
Angelica Jade Bastién, The Silence Is the Loudest Part of Renaissance: A Film
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The sensibility that has been honed at many circuits is now running.
The sports line racing wheels used by the BMW factory team M3 in the BBS European touring car races are the brand that men who challenge the limits of driving on the battlefield of the circuit have absolute trust in. It has won many awards for its superior functionality and superior quality. The RN" and RY" wheels of the New Sports Line are the feedback of this attention-grabbing design to general vehicles. The RN is a one-piece wheel with a new round rim. The RY is a two-piece wheel with an integrated rim structure. Please experience the wonderful matching with the car and the drivability.
RA
We have set a drastic price so that many drivers can enjoy our commitment to BBS technology. Uncompromising design, manufacturing and perfection. And the stubborn quality control is exactly what the BBS brand deserves.
By adopting the new mechanism "Multi Fitment-Systems" (mutual adaptation system), it is just right for each car model
We will fit you. Please specify each applicable version when purchasing.
VW version All GOLF cars. Comes with green adapter for BORE 57
Toyota version Toyota and Mazda vehicles With yellow adapter for BORE 54
Nissan version nissan car. Comes with blue adaptor for BORE 59
Honda version honda car. With red adapter for BORE 56
Opel version Astra Vectra With black adapter for BORE 56.5
Other accessories include emblem and air valve (bolts and nuts are not included)
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Reveal: The Maserati Project24
Maserati presents Project24. A project of a limited series of super sports car - only 62 units - to raise the brand's unlimited performance to a new level of adrenaline on the track.
The truly extreme track-only car inherits the specifications of the Maserati MC20, enhancing it with technical specifications that have advanced even further: the state-of-the-art V6 Nettuno engine adds new turbochargers to raise its power to 740 hp, innovative suspension, carbon-ceramic braking system and tyres tuned up for racing, as well as FIA-approved safety features.
Based on the brand’s obsession with lightness, the target weight of the new Maserati vehicle will be below 1,250 kg. The perfect combination of output and lightness result in an astonishing vehicle with a power-to-weight ratio of approximately 1.69 kg/hp.
Designed by Centro Stile Maserati, the Project24 has a completely new look. This time, Maserati design pushes the boundaries to the limits, free of the constraints usually seen in a racing car*. The result is something never seen before, combining beauty with genuine sporty capabilities to become an instant classic collector’s item.
Maserati Project24 – Specs and Technical Features
Vehicle
Two-seater non-road-homologated car
Maserati Centro Stile design
Width/Height (mm) 2020* x 1220*
Dry weight: less than 1250 Kg
Complies with FIA race safety requirements
FIA-homologated FT3 120 L fuel tank
FIA-spec fire extinguisher
FIA-homologated safety roll cage
Engine
Maserati Nettuno engine
V6 90° twin turbo
3000 cc
740 hp
Maserati Twin Combustion (MTC) Twin Spark with TJI double combustion control
Dry sump
Drive train/transmission
2WD 6-speed sequential racing gearbox with paddle shifters
Racing clutch and limited-slip self-locking mechanical differential
Bodywork
All-new carbon-fibre bodywork with specific components in natural fibres
High-performance aerodynamics
Multi-adjustable front & rear wing
High downforce
Front LED lights
FIA-approved rain light
Lexan front and side windows
Maserati Project24 is the emblem of exclusivity and will offer a unique range of services, including track-specific experiences and state-of-the-art support, exclusively for the owners of Project24.
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Williams to race with a modified livery on home turf in Silverstone
Williams to race with a modified livery on home turf in Silverstone
By Balazs Szabo on 05 Jul 2023, 17:55
Ahead of the British Grand Prix, Williams Racing have unveiled an adapted livery for their home race as part of the celebrations to mark their 800th Formula One Grand Prix.
The British Grand Prix was set to be the Grove-based team’s eighth centennial but, with the cancellation of Imola last month, that landmark shifts to the following race in Budapest. Williams Racing is celebrating over both weekends, to ensure its home fans in the UK can be part of the commemoration.
The one-off Silverstone design, running on both FW45’s of Alex Albon and Logan Sargeant this weekend, pays homage to the team's British heritage and to its beloved founder, the late Sir Frank Williams.
Since its foundation in 1977 by late Sir Frank Williams and engineering pioneer Sir Patrick Head, the team has won nine Constructors’ Championships, in association with Cosworth, Honda and Renault.
The British outfit is the second most successful outfit only behind Ferrari, with its seven Drivers’ Championship trophies being lifted by true icons of the sport: Alan Jones, Keke Rosberg, Nelson Piquet, Nigel Mansell, Alain Prost, Damon Hill and Jacques Villeneuve.
The team’s 2023 F1 challenger, the FW45 will showcase a bespoke livery exclusively designed for its home race at Silverstone, and will sport a special emblem in Budapest.
Furthermore, Williams Racing is set to bring a true legend of the past, the 1992 championship winning FW14B, to Silverstone. F1 World Champion and Williams Racing Brand Ambassador Jenson Button is set to take the wheel to complete several demonstrations laps in the iconic car on Sunday.
via F1Technical.net . Motorsport news https://www.f1technical.net/news/
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Sonic Movie 2 - Product Placement Done Right
Hi,
so here I gathered what I think are product placements. I don’t know every brand, not to mention some don’t exist in my country (or I don’t know if they do XD). Like Yello Mello from the first movie. I’ve never seen it here.
With some pictures, it’s just that I can see something resembling a brand or a “specific word”. I have no clue if they were done for the movie, or if they are actually an Easter Egg for an existing brand.
I consider them “done right”, because they are “natural” part of the scene without being in the focus, they are easy to miss, or play a “role”.
This scene near the end of the wedding is badass. Seriously, it’s both fun and a bit of action-packed. Especially from Rachel’s side. The slow motion shot of her breaking and getting off pack quite a punch too.
This is one of the rare brands I recognize :-D
Now we know Sonic has Apple iPhone without it being punched into your faces with brute force. I think you can see the logo like for 10 seconds in the whole movie.
Does this one count? I mean, I see no logo, but maybe that shape is pointing at some brand?
Well, I think those are real shops and names, so I guess that counts too?
All I know, “lock and load” is a saying of sort from military. And as I’ve said, here I have all that has a visible logo or something like that :-D And I think this logo looks really nice :-D
This one is here for the fun. I haven’t spotted anything specific, but who knows :-D
And yes, Donut Dad uses the same phone. Makes sense for their son to have the same brand as his parents.
I find this logo nice. And it’s hardly visible, since you concentrate on Rachel and Maddie :-D
This one is super obvious and probably the most in your face. But it’s so funny to see Sonic to use the ring (he has a limited amount) to get a bunch of Oreos XD And the poor person’s reaction is hilarious, and something anybody would do too XD
No idea what type of the car those were, but the emblems are quite visible in my eyes.
Half of the logo is kinda visible, so I guess?
Yamaha is one of the brands I recognize :-D
How exactly it was... Four Seasons Hawaii? And yes, it’s a product placement, but more like service/place placement XD In any case, it’s part of the story and a small joke. Sonic tells Tom to relax and enjoy his stay in the resort with his wife.
And by saying the name, I get the feeling it’s one of the Top 10 places to be in, so it makes sense to say it.
And to connect it, Maddie says the exact same words when Tom is pondering where Sonic can find non-human friends or just friends to accept him. He is well aware of the fact Sonic wants to socialize, but his unique nature makes it hard.
But Maddie trust Sonic, since he is a smart kid.
And then we have the scene with Sonic in the middle of the blizzard. XD Seriously, I chuckled since it was really stupid to go to Siberia without any equipment or clothes XD
Not sure if that walkie-talkie(?) logo is generic or specific.
Is that a Chao Cola Easter Egg? I read something like Chaos Sport.
I guess this is all I’ve noticed. If you have some more, reblog them :-D I would love to see them too :-)
#sonic the hedgehog#maddie wachowski#tom wachowski#sonic movie 2#wade whipple#agent stone#product placement#miles tails prower#knuckles the echidna#ozzie#ozzy#sonic movie#cool#fun stuff#dr. robotnik#jeff fowler#paramount pictures#paramount
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