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pucksandpower · 21 days

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Fashionably Challenged

Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: you and Max may not exactly be the paddock’s most stylish couple, but you wouldn’t want it any other way

You wake up to the sound of Max rummaging through the closet of your shared hotel suite. Rolling over, you see him laying out two matching outfits — the Red Bull Racing team polos, skinny jeans, and sneakers you’ve grown accustomed to over the years.

One set for him, one set for you.

“Morning, liefje,” he says, catching your gaze. “I have our outfits for the day ready to go.”

You smile sleepily. “Thanks, babe. You know me too well.”

Max grins as he walks over and climbs back into bed, throwing an arm around you. “Of course I do. Can’t have my girlfriend showing up to races looking anything less than perfect.”

You laugh and playfully shove him. “Oh shut up. You know I’d show up in a potato sack if I could.”

“Don’t even joke about that,” he says with mock seriousness. “I would never let you embarrass me like that.”

“Embarrass you?” You scoff. “Please, like you even notice what I’m wearing half the time. You’re just as bad as me when it comes to fashion.”

Max opens his mouth to protest but then shuts it, shrugging in admission. “Okay, fair point. But that’s why I always get you the same thing I’m wearing. So there’s no way we can mess it up.”

You consider this for a moment. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. We make a pretty fashionably challenged couple.”

“The most fashionably challenged,” he agrees with a laugh. He pauses, gaze growing serious. “But I like it that way. I like that we match.”

Warmth blooms in your chest. “Me too.”

The morning passes quickly as you get ready for the race. True to form, you both pull on the matching outfits without a second thought. As you’re walking out to the car, Max stops you.

“Wait,” he says, taking your hand and turning you to face him. He looks you up and down appraisingly. “You look perfect, just like always.”

You can’t help but beam at the compliment. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

He grins. “Not nearly enough.”

“Well I do,” you say, leaning in to kiss him. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, schatje,” Max murmurs against your lips. “Now let’s go kick some ass today.”

The race goes well, Max taking the checkered flag to the roar of the crowds. As you’re waiting to congratulate him, a podcaster approaches you with a microphone.

“Hi there,” she says brightly. “I’m Lottie from The Racing Line. I was wondering if I could ask you a couple quick questions?”

“Oh, um, sure,” you’re a bit caught off guard.

“Great! So first off, you and Max always seem to be wearing matching outfits to the races. Is that something you two purposely coordinate as a cute couple thing?”

You feel your cheeks flush slightly. “Oh no, not at all actually. The truth is neither of us have much fashion sense at all. So Max just gets me the female version of whatever he’s wearing to make it easy.”

The podcaster looks disappointed. “Oh, I see. So it’s not some adorable couple tradition then?”

“Well, I mean, I guess in a way it kind of is?” You say quickly, feeling guilty. “Neither of us are really into fashion, so we end up matching by default anyway. I think it’s sweet that we always end up coordinating without even trying because we’re just so in sync.”

She perks up at that. “Aww, okay, I can see that! So even though it’s not on purpose, you’ve made your own cute little tradition out of it just by being so aligned. That’s really romantic.”

You nod, smiling softly. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

“Well thank you so much for your time,” she shakes your hand. “And congratulations to Max on another win!”

“Thank you,” you reply as she walks away.

A few minutes later Max emerges, helmet under his arm and face lit up in that way you love. You throw your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Congratulations baby, you were amazing out there as always.”

“Thank you, schatje,” he says, squeezing you close. He pauses, smile turning teasing. “Did you enjoy chatting with that podcaster earlier?”

You pull back, eyes narrowing. “You saw that, did you?”

He chuckles. “Of course I did. I always notice you.”

“Well then you also saw me have to completely backtrack and come up with some sappy story for why we match when she thought it was a cutesy couple thing,” you say dryly.

Max shrugs. “It kind of is though, isn’t it? Maybe not on purpose, but it’s become our thing.”

“I guess you’re right,” you admit. “I told her it was romantic how in sync we are, always coordinating outfits without even trying.”

“Hmm, I like that,” he says, grinning. “We really are pretty in sync, aren’t we? Two fashionably hopeless peas in a pod.”

You laugh. “That we are.” You look at him fondly. “But I love our way better than being one of those obnoxiously coordinated couples.”

“Me too,” he agrees. “Though I will admit ...” His gaze grows more serious. “Part of the reason I like matching is because it makes me happy to walk around wearing the same thing as you. Like we’re a unit, you know?”

Your heart skips a beat at the soft vulnerability in his voice. “Max Verstappen, you big old romantic,” you tease gently.

He shrugs but you can see the pleased look in his eyes. Sudden understanding washes over you.

“Wait a minute … is that why you got me the same outfit the first time? Not just because you thought it would be easier, but because you wanted us to match?”

Max stays silent for a moment before breaking into a sheepish grin. “You caught me.”

“Oh my god!” You shove his shoulder playfully. “You big sap!”

“What can I say? I like having my girl on my arm looking like the power couple we are,” Max says, pulling you close again. “Fashionably challenged or not.”

“If only everyone out there making you out to be the villain could see the cuddly teddy bear you really are. I absolutely love it,” you murmur, stretching up to kiss him. You can feel him smile against your lips.

As you break apart, Max squeezes your hand. “Come on, let’s go celebrate. In new matching outfits, of course.”

You pretend to roll your eyes exaggeratingly but allow him to lead you towards the exit, your hands intertwined. You truly wouldn’t have it any other way.

***

You and Max are curled up on the couch in your hotel room, his arm draped around you as you lean into his side. It’s a rare quiet moment between races and you’re savoring the feeling of Max’s fingers gently carding through your hair.

“Hey Max?” You say after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

“Hmm?” He hums in response, not looking away from the football match on the TV.

“I got an interesting offer today.”

That piques his interest and he turns his head to look at you. “Oh yeah? What kind of offer?”

You take a deep breath before answering. “A sponsorship deal, actually. From Oscar de la Renta.”

Max raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Wow, that’s … really great, liefje. I’m so happy for you.”

But something in his tone makes you frown slightly. “Are you though? You don’t sound that excited.”

He gives you a half smile. “No, no, I am! That’s a huge opportunity for your career and image. Having that kind of sponsorship deal is amazing.”

“But?” You prod knowingly.

Max lets out a breath, smile fading. “But I guess part of me is a little disappointed and maybe … worried?”

“About what?”

“Well,” he shifts uncomfortably. “I like being the one who picks out your outfits for the races. Our little unintentional matching tradition has kind of become my thing, you know? I’m worried if you get sponsored by some big designer brand you won’t wear the outfits I pick out anymore. That we won’t match.”

His tone is carefully casual but you can hear the undercurrent of vulnerability. Your heart clenches in your chest.

“Oh Max ...” you murmur, reaching up to cup his cheek. “You really like our matching outfits that much?”

He averts his eyes but nods. “Yeah. I know it sounds silly, but I just … I like how in sync we are. How happy it makes me feel when we show up to the races looking like a real team. Like we’re truly partners in everything. I don’t want to lose that.”

The softness in his voice breaks your heart a little. You take his hand and give it a squeeze.

“You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that,” you tell him gently. “Because I never would have accepted that offer anyway.”

Max blinks in surprise. “You wouldn’t?”

You shake your head. “Not a chance. First of all, they were pressuring me to only wear very high-end stuff, none of which really feels like my personal style. But more importantly ...” You lean in closer, maintaining eye contact. “They don’t have a men’s collection. So they couldn’t sponsor you too.”

Realization lights up his gaze. “Oh ...” he says softly.

You nod. “Exactly. I told them thanks but no thanks. Because no designer wardrobe is worth giving up what we have.”

Max looks stunned. “You … you turned them down? Just to keep matching with me?”

“Of course I did,” you say affectionately, poking his chest. “I would never give that up. How could I say yes to some fancy sponsorship that meant not having my fashionably challenged other half by my side, both looking like total goofballs in the one outfit the world thinks makes up the entirety of our closet?”

A slow smile spreads across his face and he pulls you into his arms, hugging you tightly. “God, I love you,” he murmurs into your hair. “So much.”

You relax into his embrace, overwhelmed by the rush of affection. “I love you too,” you whisper. You pull back slightly to look at him. “Did you really think I’d give up matching with you over that?”

“I don’t know,” he admits, looking a little sheepish. “I guess a small part of me was worried maybe you’d be tempted by the glamor and exposure of being a designer brand ambassador.”

“You know me better than that,” you affirm. “Our matching looks are too special to me. I adore everything about our little tradition — the fact that it started because neither of us cares about fashion, to you always picking out my outfits, and how happy it makes both of us to show up to races coordinating with each other.”

You take Max’s hand, intertwining your fingers. “Don’t you see, my love? It’s not really about the clothes at all, it’s about us. About how perfectly aligned we are in this little part of our lives. And I wouldn’t change that for the world.”

Max’s eyes have gone suspiciously bright, his free hand reaching up to cradle your face. “But liefje … you could have had any designer clothing you wanted.” His voice is thick with emotion. “You turned that down … for me?”

Unable to find the words, you just nod, blinking back your own tears.

“I can’t believe it,” Max breathes out shakily. “You never cease to amaze me.”

You offer him a watery smile. “Well believe it, my love. Because there’s nothing in the world more precious to me than you and our bond. I wouldn’t sacrifice that for anything.”

A single tear escapes to trail down Max’s cheek and you quickly brush it away with your thumb. Seeming at a loss for words, he pulls you into a fierce hug, tucking your head under his chin as you settle into his embrace.

“I love you,” he finally whispers into your hair. “So damn much.”

“I love you too.” You pepper kisses along his neck and jaw until you reach his lips, capturing them in a deep, slow kiss that tries to convey every unspoken word of devotion and adoration.

When you finally break apart, Max gazes at you with an intensity that makes your breath catch.

“God, you really are perfect,” he murmurs, running a hand reverently through your hair. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

“No,” you shake your head with a soft smile. “I’m the lucky one. To have someone who loves me so fiercely, someone I love just as much in return.”

Max lets out a watery chuckle. “I think we’re both the lucky ones then.”

You settle back against his chest as he wraps his arms securely around you. For a while neither of you speaks, lost in your own thoughts as you simply bask in each other’s presence. You let your eyes drift shut as Max’s fingers resume their gentle motions through your hair.

Eventually you break the silence.

“You know we’re going to have to get even cuter matching outfits now to make up for it,” you murmur teasingly.

Max’s chest rumbles with laughter against your cheek. “Deal. Anything you want, schatje. I’ll make sure we’re the most adorable fashionably challenged couple at every single race from now on.”

You smile at the warmth and conviction in his voice. “No one could ever call us uncoordinated.”

“Never,” Max affirms, dropping a soft kiss to the top of your head. “We’re perfectly matched in every way that matters.”

You sigh contentedly as you snuggle further into his embrace. In that moment, you know he’s absolutely right. You couldn’t imagine a better match than your Max.

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jyoongim · 3 months

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Themes: posessiveness, slight yandere behavior, mentions of cannibalism, softcore smut,

After 7 years the Radio Demon is back!

But things arent how he left them…

Vox has taken it upon himself to be in charge of all things media

Radio has turned to Video

And Alastor’s little darling aint in her place…oh that just wont do

Your relationship with the Radio Demon was like a match made in Hell.

Alastor was a wild card by himself alone, but you? You never failed to keep him on his hooves?

You had been in the media world looong before Alastor popped up in Hell, having the title (ironic) Media Demon but somehow he managed to bring back the old themes that were once appreciated.

Not those podcasts or vlogs the youth were so prone to do

But things from the good old days.

Things that were considered ancient in the sense of modern tech.

Radio; Talk shows and actual live broadcasts.

Alastor and you quickly rose in popularity in the media realm [(you had a sneaky suspicion it was because he was terrifying and people honesty clung to an overlord’s word)]

You and Alastor had separate broadcasts, but you worked perfectly in sync with one another. Until one day…the Radio Demon disappeared, leaving you to run your show alone.

You did what you could, but the people seemed to miss the charismatic broadcaster as much as you and soon you were approached by Video.

“C’mon y/n, This will be a great improvement to your brand.” Vox smirked as you sipped the tea you were offered. You frowned. You were aware that media came in all formats but you enjoyed the ‘old’ way. “I dont know Vox, i prefer to be out of the camera’s eye” you said. Vox had been begging for years for you to join his team and claiming it would ‘boost’ your reputation. You didnt need a boost. You were THE Media Demon. If anything, you knew it would boost HIS popularity.

“Radio is so old-fashion, video is the future! You should be up to date with these things” he said. You grimaced “i am well aware of the trends, but not everyone likes this new savvy way, it is good to have a little variety”

Vox was getting annoyed.

Having you on the Vees would not only boost his claim to fame, but it would boost his power.

“The people would love to see the Media Demon in the public eye. You use to sing right? How about music production? You would kill sales with that voice of yours”

He was trying to butter you up.

Everyone knew you were a renown singer. A popstar once. You only showcased it a few times broadcasting when it was late at night and were in a mood.

Alastor loved to hear you sing.

“If you made videos people, your image can skyrocket” he continued.

You set your cup down, standing, having heard enough.

“I appreciate the offer Vox, but I will decline. I quite like stereo” and with that you left.

You made your way to the Hazbin Hotel.

To Alastor’s radio tower.

You sighed as you sat and stared at the station.

Maybe i should take Vox’s offer you thought as you collected your topics and put your headphones on.

You turned on the radio and did a count set

“How ya doin tonight folks? Its your favorite radio host and tonight you are in for a treat!” you gave the daily Hell gossip and opened the line for discussions. Letting out a laugh from a few of the responses you finally sighed “I have been offered the damning chance to retire from radio” you started. “I am sure you are all aware that I am fabulous of course, but i mean reverting to video can you imagine? And the audacity of Vox to even suggest just a thing. I think i do quite alright for a media connoisseur” you giggled.

As you chatted away you were unaware of the dark presence manifesting in the tower.

“Dial in im opening the lines to hear your opinions”

You listened in

“I think it could be good to switch it up!”

“Youre the Media Demon you could crush anything!”

“Y/n youre incredible!”

“Video kills the Radio star!”

You were about to chime in when a deep static like voice sounded

“I think you mean Radio killed the Video star”

Your eyes widened and spun around to see Alastor

“A-Alastor?”

His devilish smile sharpened as he pressed a button to cut the lines and removed your headphones “its been a while darling”

You couldnt help yourself as you launched at him for a hug.

You quickly recovered and let him go, stuttering “oh oh im sorry but w-what are you doing here? I-i thought you were gone”

Alastor grinned, bringing your hand up to his lips to press a kiss to it

“Ooooh mon cher i could never stay away from you”

You blushed.

Alastor pulled you into an embrace, his grip a little tight

“So what it is i hear of you forsaking radio?”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #Alastor x reader #hazbin vox

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vivwritesfics · 7 months

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Double Podium Baby!

Lando and Oscar get a double podium -their girlfriend has to celebrate

Lando x reader x Oscar

"Oh my god, Osc! That was incredible!" Cried Y/N as she went to greet one of her boyfriends after the Qatar grand prix. "You're incredible!" She shouted, pulling him into her arms.

Oscar kissed her slow before showing off his trophy. "You've got to be the greatest rookie ever," Y/N said softly as she kissed him again.

And then she turned around, going to find her other boyfriend. She congratulated Max on his title as she went to find Lando.

Lando, of course, was nowhere to be seen. He wasn't celebrating as he usually did, by kissing Y/N and holding Oscar close (which took some time to happen, the three weren't too sure on telling the world about them before).

Y/N travelled through the McLaren garage, heading towards her boyfriends drivers room. "Lando," she called softly as she knocked. "Baby, are you in there?"

When there was no answer, she pushed her way in.

There Lando sat, his third place trophy in his hand. He looked at Y/N as she entered but quickly returned his gaze to his trophy. "Lando, baby, honey, what's the matter?" She asked, crouching down beside him, one hand on his knee.

There was a moment of silence between them, but Y/N kept staring up at him, concern written on her face.

"I should have done better," he confessed. "I should have come second, or even first." Lando put the trophy down on the sofa next to him, but there was a part of him that wanted to throw it across the room.

Pushing her way between his legs, Y/N grabbed her face and kissed him. Trying to snap him out of this moment of stupidity. But, when she pulled away, Lando still looked like a kicked puppy. "You drove so well out there, Lan. I'm so proud of you. Oscar is, too! You were overtaking like a champion. A future world champion," she said, reaching up to run her fingers through his hair.

Lando wrapped his arms around her, pulling her up and into his chest. "It was a really tough race," he said through a sob. "How is Oscar doing?" Lando asked, his voice no more than a whisper.

"Come and find out," Y/N said and pulled him to his feet.

Landos legs were shaking as he and Y/N walked to find Oscar. After Max's podcast, Lando had completely disappeared. He had walked away before Oscar could get a word with him.

Oscar, who was now waiting outside of the McLaren garage. Oscar, who's face was red and face was shiny with sweat. Oscar, who launched himself at Lando the moment he saw him.

Y/N stood back as they hugged. Her boys. They were her boys. Lando ran his hands through Oscars hair, knocking the hat from his head. "Well done, Osc," he whispered and kissed the top of his head. "That was such a rough race."

"I know, Lan. But you drove so well. I love being on the podium with you."

"I love seeing the both of you up there," said Y/N as she walked towards them and pushed her way between them. Oscar and Lando kissed the top of her head and walked away with her tucked in the middle of them. They walked out of the paddock and into the car, making their way back to the hotel room.

Y/N did a lot of talking with Lando when they got back to the hotel room. While Oscar showered and got ready for bed, Y/N had a chat with Lando. She reminded him of where he was now compared to the year before, how many podiums he had stepped on compared to the year before.

She reminded him that, in the last year he'd gone from the mid field to being a real competitor in the sport, that he'd met the loves of his life and he was getting to compete alongside them. She reminded Lando of a lot of things before he finally got onto his social media to post something.

It was a sweet picture, he, Oscar and Max together before he had run off. Lando posted it with a short and sweet celebratory caption. "There you go, Lan," whispered Y/N as she pulled him closer and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

Once Oscar was done in the shower, it was his turn. Lando took his sweet time in the shower, washing away the sweat and worries of the day. As he showered, Oscar and Y/N cuddled. Even in the heat they held each other closer, unable to stay away from each other.

"You're amazing, you know that?" She whispered to him as she laid against his chest. "I'm obsessed with you, Osc." Y/N kissed his jaw and shut her eyes as she leaned against him.

Oscar kissed the top of her head. This was one of his favourite positions to be in, with his girl snuggled against him. The only thing that would have made it better would be if Lando was on the other side of her, his chest pressed against her back, his arm around her middle.

When Lando emerged from the shower, he had just his towel wrapped around his waist. Y/N let out a whistle when she saw him, pulling her lip between her teeth. "I can't believe we get you," she said and pulled him closer, letting the towel dropped to the floor.

That was how the three of them spent the night, cuddled up to one another, wrapped around each other, bodies entwined.

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cheriladycl01 · 23 days

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It All Happened so Fast - Grid x Ferrari Reader

Plot: Y/N has someone enter her hotel room after the grand prix and threaten to rob her, after not answering her phone, some of the drivers come to her rescue. Done in the style of a podcast/interview.

Warning: This had dark themes, of abuse, kidnapping (kind of?), SA etc

Credit to makeagif for the GIF :)

"And tonight we have Y/N with us on the podcast! And we'll be learning the truth about what happened at French Grand Prix, now that she's finally ready to speak up about what happened!" he says as you walk out, your hands were clammy from the build up of sweat on them and the lights all felt a little too bright.

"Hello, Zach how are you?" you smile to the podcaster, taking a seat in the purple studio on scotting so you were next to the cushion.

"I'm good, I'm good and how are you doing, despite everything that happened?" he asks looking over you, making sure you were okay.

"Yeah, you know I took a blow and speak to a therapist about everything but ultimately I'm back in the car and doing what I love most!" you nod, explaining how you'd not gone to the next race after the incident because of a bruised rib.

"So talk us through that day, start to finish!" he smiles and you nod, feeling safe and comforted to talk in his presence.

"It was a pretty normal day, it was just after qualifying had finished and I was celebrating with Charlie" you smile. You remembered getting your first pole position with Ferrari that year having taken over from Carlos who had made the move to Audi.

You were so happy, jumping in the arms of the crew and Fred who'd become like a father to you before finding comfort in Charles, who wasn't Charles to you but Charlie. He was your big brother around the paddock, most of them were.

"Congrats gorgeous!" he grins hugging you tightly. Alex, his girlfriend came running over, pulling you away from Charles into a big hug of her own. Alex had become like your big sister and you'd kind of become attached to her in your time in the paddock. She'd let you borrow her clothes, which Charlie didn't like as he thought they were way too mature for a young girl like you, which you'd argued against many times. You got ready with Alex in your rooms, and even travel together in the off seasons. And don't even get started on the Leclerc family who had practically adopted you after becoming Charles partner.

"Thank you Charlie! We had a great drive today! A front row lock out for us!" you cheese excitedly looking around the paddock, locking your eyes on anyone else who you could exclaim your happiness too.

"I think Lando is over there!" he smiles pointing out your paddock crush. You'd had a crush on Lando ever since he came to see you race in F2, when you started to get noticed by the likes of Ferrari and other F1 teams.

You rush over, seeing him talking to Jon and Oscar who was with his girlfriend Lily.

"Hey guys!" you grin at the two boys, and they both smile back to you, Oscar and Lily pulling you into a joint hug first and then letting go of you so Lando could kiss your cheek and pull you into a hug.

"You did amazing today!" he smirks one corner of his mouth raising and a blush coming onto your face.

You sat in the studio thinking of how Lando had made your heart flutter like crazy!

"I think after we all were celebrating qualifying with my team and everyone else we were all leaving, discussing the plans for that night" you admitted thinking back to what happened in the build up.

"Yeah, we have pictures of you here celebrating with your team-mate Charles Leclerc and his girlfriend Alexandra, Lewis and a few others" he says flicking all of the pictures he had saved of you in the paddock celebrating your qualifying result.

"So, if i've got the story right? You were invited to dinner with some of your friends correct?" he asked.

"There was talk of all of us going out that night, it was my first pole position and everyone was very proud of me and they wanted to celebrate it. Obviously, for this specific race there aren't many hotels in the area so majority of the drivers stay at the same hotel close to the track for ease. So in my hotel there was Charles, me, Daniel Ricciardo, Max Vertsappen, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, Carlos Sainz, Alex Albon, Liam Lawson, Yuki Tsunoda and Pierre Gasly and that was supposed to be the group that went out!" you offer and he looks over you.

"Supposed to be?" he asks, looking at his notepad and you nod.

"So, Alex chose the place we were going and it was sort of a bar, sort of joint... when Lando and a few others looked at the menu they didn't fancy it so Max, Daniel, Charles, Carlos, Lando and Oscar all decided to pick their own place. I didn't want the plans to change so i stayed with Alex, Lewis, George, Liam, Yuki and Pierre. By the time we got to the bar there was security out and because I was the only one under the drinking age in the states I was refused" you laugh thinking it was sort of funny.

"Wait so they said you weren't allowed into the bar because of the drinking age?" he repeats making sure he had all the information correct.

Thinking back, the whole interaction was kind of funny.

"Yeah sorry, your underage you cant go in" the security guard says handing you back your ID.

"What?" you chuckle, the security knew who you were, i mean come on you were stood in front of Lewis Hamilton.

"Sorry, bar rules" he says with a frown before nodding for Lewis to go in.

"Mate come on, look none of us are here to drink... we're all driving tomorrow and we just want to take our girl out for a celebratory meal" Lewis smiles ruffling your hair making you giggle.

"Sorry man, no is a no. Even for you" he sighs, getting bored of the groups antics and how they are holding up the line.

"No come on I'm not having this, the whole reason we are here is because of her. We arent going in if she isn't allowed!" Lewis argues before George and Liam join in.

"Alright, either you can go in without her or we're all kicking you out right now" the head of security says coming out making you sigh and grab onto Lewis' arm.

"I'm just going to go, I hope you guys have fun but I don't want you guys to not go out for food because of me!" you sigh stepping to one side.

"No Y/N! The whole reason we are out tonight is because of you!" Lewis whines a little wanting everything to be perfect.

"Well half the group already bailed and went somewhere else so it's no issue!" you giggle.

"But where will you eat!" George asks.

"Look, I'll be bad and treat myself to a Maccies, but you cant tell anyone. Especially not Joris or Maggie, they'll have my head!" you say and after a lot more convincing you were let go.

Looking back you had no idea leaving by yourself was probably the worst decision you ever made.

"So you walked back to the hotel alone, that correct?"

"Well, i got myself a McDonalds first which was hilarious because there was so many fans that spotted me in there and I think that was the start of where everything went wrong. People quickly realized where I was and that I was alone with no security or team. I took a few pictures but left for the hotel very quickly" you explain softly, loving the interactions you got with your fans that night.

"And once you were in the hotel, what were you doing?" he prompted.

"Well, I got in immediately and I actually had someone from the hotel walk up with me, I'd felt strange the whole way home and just wanted someone to make sure i got up there okay"

"And by feeling strange, like you were drunk and been spiked?" he asks with his head cocking to his side.

"Mmm no just that I didn't feel alone, even though i was. I felt like my steps were being followed but I couldn't see anything. It was dark and I thought it must just be the paranoia, but the hotel staff were so helpful and took me to my room. The two members of staff actually looked around my whole room before leaving me alone!" you say, knowing the hotel did everything in their action to make sure you were safe.

"So you got in and you ate your food I'm presuming, what did you have?" he chuckles, everyone knew how much you loved a McDonalds.

"A wrap and a cheeseburger, I know bad but I was solo celebrating!" you chuckle.

"That sounds so good right now!" he luaghs before silencing to let you continue with your story.

"After that it was getting late and I wanted to be as prepared as possible for the next day so I got into the shower, where I didn't hear the door unlatch. I just remember rinsing the shampoo out my eyes and seeing him standing there watching me!" you gulp nervously getting onto the scary bit of the story.

"He was in the bathroom already, at this point?" he asks his eyes wide.

It was scary, you'd just finished really scrubbing the sweat and helmet grease out of you hair, you rubbed your eyes making sure they wasn't anything that was going to sting them in their before opening them.

It took you by so much shock to see the black silhouette in the bathroom, you grabbed the towel hoping it was Charles or Lando, at least someone you knew. But it was him, the man that kept you in fear of hotels.

"What the fuck!" you cried wrapping the towel around you, you couldn't see his face right now, his face was covered by the steam of the shower and his black and red Ferrari cap.

He was a fan, which made you want to cry more.

"Your gonna be quiet, yes beautiful?" he asks showing you the gun on his waist band.

You nodded not wanting to aggravate him.

Before you knew it he grabbed you out the shower by your arm. Forcing you onto the sofa in your room, at this point you'd started to cry. He hit you so hard, you bruised a rib and sprained your wrist.

"I cant imagine the panic you felt" Zach sighed comfortingly as you nodded.

"Yeah, i mean there was moments where i thought, this is it, I'm not going to come out of this alive" you sighed before continuing your accounts.

He asked you the code for the safe, which you told his straight away, he started going through all of your stuff, you didn't care about the loose cash or anything else but when he pulled out the expensive Cartier necklace Lando got you for your birthday you started to sob harder.

"Please, not that!" you cry out loudly making his head flick over to you, rage on his face.

"Mmmm from your boy Lando right?" he grins evilly and you cry more.

"GET ON THE BED!" he screamed at you and you looked at him in shock.

"What?" you asked.

"Are you stupid? I said to get on the fucking bed!" he screamed out again making you whimper and cry more from the shock as you got up onto the bed, sitting on the edge.

"Fuck, I'm not even sure I want to know where this goes!" Zach sighs after taking a sip of his drink. You explain how he had started to touch you, and you were practically naked on the bed.

"I was just going to suck it up, the gun was the scariest thing and I couldn't help but think that Charles would probably be the one to come in and find me..." you admitted, knowing it was one of the scariest moments.

"It was one of those moments where you know they talk about fight flight or freeze, ask anyone and they'll tell you I fight, no matter what but I just froze because of the circumstances..." you attempt to say without messing up.

"And before stuff got to bad?" he asks.

"I had my boys to rely on" you smile softly.

Charles had the spare room key to his room, and when he, Lando Max and Daniel were coming back and heard yelling through the door, they needed to see if you were okay!

"Y/N!" you heard Charles through the door, the guy currently fondling you looked up in shock. Charles and the rest of them rushed into the room. Max was the first to throw a punch at the guy, pretty much getting him onto the floor. Charles started to cover you up while Daniel called hotel security and Lando called the police. Charles was holding onto you as you shook, sobbing and gasping for short little breaths.

"Hey hey it's okay!" Lando says seeing you and your panicked state.

"Let's get him outta here!" Daniel says kicking his shin.

"Necklace!" you gasp out, looking over Lando's eyes and he cocks his head to one side in confusion before understanding what you meant.

Lando jumped off the bed, searching the guy's pockets until he pulled your necklace out.

"Scumbag!" he'd told him as Max and Daniel hauled the guy out of your room.

Lando came back, holding you on the other side of Charles forcing you into a sort of sandwich.

"So what happened with the rest of the night?" Zach asked pulling your mind back into the studio room.

"There was a lot of crying, lot of police. I only told the police about my injuries so they could take pictures for the report. And i somehow drove the next day, still came in P1 and stood on that podium until I fainted. I was of course pulled from the next race because i'd worsened my injuries by driving... but it was worth it for the win!"

"Woah, that truly is an incredible story!" Zach smiles, pulling you into a hug which you gladly accept.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v

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oneforthemunny · 16 days

Text

strangerprompts: turn back time |eddie munson x reader|

prompt: #8 you step into a hole-in-the-wall bar for a drink and suddenly find yourself in a different decade.

from strangerprompts writing challenge made by @bettyfrommars @allthingsjoeq and @somnambulic-thing <3 this was so fun!!! please check it out and consider writing for yourself!

warnings: language. time travel. but nothing crazy.

“It should be illegal.” You huff, nails digging into the leather of your steering wheel. The GPS shouted at you another robotic turn, drumming out the sound of your roommate on the other line.

“I mean, seriously? Making me travel alone to- to the middle of nowhere. Ro, I’m not even kidding, it looks like the town Deliverance was filmed in. It’s the middle of nowhere.” You scoff, looking at the rundown building passing by you, all crumbling with desperate need of a renovation.

“No, it can’t be Deliverance. They didn’t have hotels there.” Roslyn snicker floated through your car’s speakers. “C’mon, it’s not that bad.”

“It is.” You grumbled. “And then they want us to meet at this bar for mingling. I don’t even know if I’m going to the right place!” You threw your hands up, smacking them on the steering wheel dramatically, turning it as the GPS announced you’d arrived.

The Hideout- or at least, that’s what you could make out from the peeling sign above the building. “Jesus Christ, I’m getting murdered.” You muttered, sending Ro howling in laughter. “I’m not even joking. I’m about to be a topic on a fucking podcast.”

“Stop.” Roslyn wheezed through laughter. “You’re not gonna get murdered.”

“I don’t- This place doesn’t even look open.” You exhaled sharply, flicking through your phone, ensuring this was the right place. “Ro, you have to swear to me if I get murdered, you’ll make sure the true crime freaks won’t make Etsy merch about me.”

“Calm down,” Ro laughed. “You’re not gonna get murdered. It’s just not the hipster ass bars you’re used to.”

“No,” You muttered, locking your door quickly, clutching your purse to your side. “I really might. Stay on the phone with me.”

“What?” Roslyn’s voice broke through the static. “I can’t- You’re cutting ou-”

“Fuck.” You hissed, looking down at your phone as you climbed the stairs. Call Failed flashing back at you, no bars to be found.

Turn around, get back in your car, and say fuck it. You do not need this job this bad.

Yes, you actually do.

A painful reminder of your maxed credit card, student loans, and rent flashed before your eyes, silencing your bitter thoughts. Sliding your phone into your purse, you clung to the strap tightly.

“Just stay fifteen minutes, then say you feel sick.” You muttered to yourself, reaching for the rusted handle.

The entryway was dark, eerily quiet to be a bar. You almost thought it wasn’t one, if it wasn’t for the bright neon sign shining at the end. Welcome! Glowing in blinding red letters, underneath it in blue, the piercing glow that read: Stay A While.

“So weird.” You muttered, your arms wrapping around yourself.

The air turned colder with every step you took, following the bright signs- the only source of light, down the dark hallway. Your heart hammered in your ears, clutching your purse close to you. Just as you were about to panic, chest swelling with fear, veins icy as the air- you heard it.

A muffled roar of an electric guitar, a tiny sliver of golden light peering beneath the heavy door. You pushed the door open, met with a sudden wave of warmth, the dim lights of the bar blinding you still.

“Watch it, sweetheart.” A man with a tray of beers muttered, swiveling past you.

“Sorry,” You squeaked, looking around the crowded dive bar. You scanned the packed tables for anyone from the conference, shimmying in between tables, peering over teased hair for anyone.

“Fuck me,” You huffed, settling at a sticky bar booth, still littered with half drank beers and peanuts- the only one available. “No way I’m the first one.”

You plopped your purse on to the seat of the booth, an iron grip still on the strap. You could feel the cutting glances still cast on you from the others, they’d had followed you from the moment you walked in. Judgemental, all accompanied with a lifted brow.

Should look in the mirror, You thought bitterly, rummaging through your purse. They’re the ones wearing that outdated, ugly shit.

“Where the fuck- I know I put it in here.” You muttered, taking out the wrappers, your wallet, desperately trying to find your phone.

“‘Scuse me,” You jumped, eyes wide when you looked up, clutching your purse to your chest.

Dark eyes met yours, a dimpled smile joining them. “Sorry,” The man lifted his hand carefully, the other balancing a black bucket stacked with glasses. “Didn’t mean to scare you. Just wanted to see if it was ok if I clear this outta the way for you?”

“Y-Yeah, sorry.” You muttered bashfully. “Yes, that would be great. Thank you.”

A ringed hand passed in front of you, the light catching in the skull before it grabbed a glass. You moved back to your purse, furiously checking each pocket, chest growing tighter and tighter with fear.

“You alright?” The busboy asked, swiping another glass, stacking it into the bucket with a soft rattling clank.

“Yeah- I mean, not really.” You turned, head craning towards the door. “I think I lost my phone in that hallway.”

“Hallway?” He laughed, his name tag flashing towards you- Eddie, decorated with sharpie drawn bats and devil horns. “Phone’s on the wall over there.” Eddie nodded towards the bar, an old dial up phone mounted there, a sign that the charge is a quarter above it.

Your brows creased. You didn’t even know those things worked, you always assumed they were decoration for the… edgy aesthetic of the place.

“No, I mean my cell phone.” You shook your head lightly. “I think I dropped it in that hallway back there.” You pointed towards the swinging door.

Eddie frowned at you, stilling as his eyes scanned your features. “Are you- Are you feeling ok?” He asked.

“What?” You snapped defensively.

“Did someone slip something in your drink or something?” Eddie asked carefully. “Gotta be careful with those old guys. They look harmless but they’re gnarly-”

“-What? No.” You shook your head, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I-I haven’t even had a drink. I just got here. I’m supposed to meet some people from a conference, but I can’t find my phone-”

“-Your phone?” Eddie’s nose crinkled in confusion.

“Yes. My phone.” You barked in irritation. “My cell phone?”

Eddie blinked at you. “What is that European?” He shrugged.

“What? Are you fucking with me-”

“-No,” Eddie held his hands up. “No, I just- I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” He laughed nervously. “And I mean you’re dressed… different. Not that it’s bad!” He added frantically.

“I just assumed you were European or something. Not from here anyways.” Eddie muttered, leaning against the table.

You blinked. It felt like you were in a dream, like everything you were saying was mute, confusing, in Wonderland and entirely discombobulated.

“You… You don’t have cell phones here?” You asked slowly.

Eddie shook his head, curls bouncing. “Nope. Not here, sweetheart. Hasn’t made its way to Hawkins, Indiana yet, but sounds pretty-”

“-What?” You hissed, chest booming with a fear filled ache, sure your heart had stopped entirely. “What did you just say?”

Eddie’s face fell, his flirtatious grin disappearing. “Hawkins? Indiana?” He said slowly, eyes narrowing when your face paled. “Hey, are you ok? Did you take something?”

“N-No, I-I don’t- I d-didn’t-”

“-Look,” Eddie slid into the booth beside you. “You’re not gonna scare me off if you did somethin’, alright? I’m not nearly as conservative as these other bogus losers.”

You couldn’t speak, mouth dry, heart caught in your throat, hammering away so fiercely your ears were ringing. “What’d you take? Blow? K? Pills or somethin’?” His arm brushed yours, head ducking towards you. “It’s fine, whatever it is, I’m- I’m really good with dealing with this sorta thing, if you can believe it.”

“I-I didn’t take anything.” You droned, nearly automated. “I just- I-I was walking down the hallway, and-”

“-Hey, I’m just trying to help you.” Eddie said softly, his tone pulling your attention back to meet his gaze. “Did you hit your head?”

“N-No, I- The hallway-”

“-That,” Eddie pointed towards the swinging door. “Is a bathroom.” You watched as the door swung open, as if on cue, a girl with blue painted lids and crimped hair piled high stepping out.

“The closest thing to a hallway here is to the dumpster out back.” Eddie grinned at you softly. It was sweet, but you couldn’t bring yourself to smile back, body trembling with fear.

Eddie felt it, frowning at you softly. “Do you need me to call an ambulance? Call someone for you?”

“No,” You swallowed hard. “I-I need to leave. I have-I gotta get out of here.” Panic rose through your chest, trying to push him out of the booth, climb over him, anything.

“Hey, easy,” Eddie slid out of your way. “Hang on-” You ignored him, pushing past him towards the door.

Outside, the sun was still just beginning to set, that was the only thing that was the same.

Your car was gone, in its place a line of cars- old cars, but still shiny? Still new, not rusted with wear or dulled colors from age. The buildings were no longer crumbling, signs still new and displayed proudly.

“No, no, no, no.” Your chest heaved, fingers threading through your hair. “What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck is going on?”

“Hey!” Eddie grabbed your shoulder, pulling your attention towards him. “Hey, I-I don’t think you should be driving-”

“-My car.” You gasped. “Where the fuck is my car? I-It was right here,” You turned, throwing your hands out. “Right here!”

Eddie looked around, a blush rising to his cheeks at the judgy looks the passersby were giving. “Maybe you should come back inside-”

“-No.” You barked, shaking your head furiously. “No. I-I’m not-” Through the window, a glimmer of a photo caught your eye.

Your walk back inside felt nearly trance like, everything underwater, Eddie’s voice droning out with the others. A painting of two cartoonized children waving fistfuls of flowers gleefully- though that wasn’t what caught your attention. It was the printed lettering underneath it that made your blood run cold.

“Hey, why don’t you take a seat, an-and I’ll call someone-”

“-Is this,” You swallowed, pointing at the wall. “This isn’t right, r-right? Thi-This isn’t- There’s no way.”

Eddie frowned, looking at the wall. “I mean, yeah, it needs to be changed now. I guess it’s technically May now, Mick just hasn’t gotten around to flipping it-”

“-No, this-this says…” Your finger traced the numbers, glaring at you in bright red. “1986?” You squeaked.

Eddie blinked at you. “Yeah,” He nodded slowly.

Your vision filled with dark splotches, fading in and out of focus on the calendar in front of you. Your knees buckled, purse slipping between your fingers before you fell limply, Eddie’s frantic voice ringing in your ears the last thing you heard before your consciousness slipped.

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normansnt · 3 months

Text

The Prince

(Alastor x prince of hell!reader)

"HOLLLLYYY FUCKING SHIT (Y/N) (Y/N) (Y/N) GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER WE ARE VISITING CHARLIEEEE" yelled your dad while bursting into your room.

You looked up at your dad startled.

"Thats great, but why are you yelling?" You asked while raising your eyebrow.

"BECAUSE WE ARE GOING NOW COME OOONNN" he continued yelling while taking your hand and dragging you out of your room and off you guys were to the Hazbin Hotel.

When you arrived your dad almost run in before you told him to tone it down he is still the king of hell who has to keep up a certain image.

This was your relationship in a nutshell. You were not at all like your father and older sister. You were calm and collected and were there to calm them down. And why you stuck with your dad? Because he was broken after your mother left and you kind of got stuck being his mental support.

You never blamed Charlie for leaving you had the chance you do that as well but you decided to stay.

Your dad entered the hotel and immediately hugged Charlie. You just calmly walked in after him.

"OOOHHHHHH YOU BROUGHT (Y/N)" yelled Charlie as well excitedly and gave you the same bone crushing hug your dad gave her earlier.

"Yeah...'m here...sis....cant...breathe" you tried to get a sentence out.

"OH yeah of course sorry"

"Its fine Im happy to see you Charlie" you smiled at her while dusting your button up shirt.

After this encounter Charlie introduced you to the rest of the residents including her girlfriend, who you were delighted to meat since Charlie always rented about her when you guys would talk.

But of course your dad managed to make that encounter awkward as well to which you just sighed a little.

Unbeknownst to you a certain radio demon had his eyes on you from the moment you entered. It was one thing that your attire was something he himself would wear and it suited your figure perfectly, quite old fashioned just like he liked it, but when he saw that seemingly you were the distinguished one in the family you have won his interest.

The way you held yourself with a straight back chin up, truly befitting a prince. He noticed that you seem to either calm down or hint to your father on how to act. It was a sight to behold for sure.

"And this here-" started Charlie nearing the stairs where Alastor appeared. "-oh, this is Alastor our beloved building manager"

"Its a pleasure to meet you sir quite the pleasure" said Alastor while shaking Lucifers hand and wiping it in his coat after.

Not paying a second more of his attention on your father he looked immediately to you.

"And this magnificent creature is the prince of hell himself I'm sure" he said while taking your hand and softly kissing your knuckles.

Your face got a bit read while he straightened back up eye contact never leaving.

"I am, it is a pleasure to meet you sir, I quite enjoy your radio podcast" you managed to get out after re-gaining your composure.

What you said was true, though. You enjoyed his brodcast, his voice, and interestingly enough your taste in music was similar, the jazz part at least.

Alastors eyes lit up at that.

"Indeed? Well I'm honored the prince of hell himself enjoys what I do, and please do call me Alastor." he smiled at you and took one of your hands in both of his while you guys just stared at each other.

"Should we do something ooor...?" Whispered angel to Husk.

However the cat was to stunned to speak. He has never seen Alastor act like this with anyone before. The radio demon was literally flirting with the prince of hell.

"WOOOOWWW ooookkkkk nononono lemme just...squeeze in here" said your father while standing between you and Alastor which was almost impossible thats how close you two stood to each other but he managed.

"If you don't mind I believe my daughter was about to show us the hotel so see ya later" said your dad hastily while pushing you away from the overlord.

"Oh, no, we built the hotel together we should show it together, right Charlie?" Grinned Alastor at the princesse

"...Ok"

"I wouldn't mind at all to show the lovely little prince around" he smiled at you and offered you his arm which you gladly took.

All this while Lucifer was glaring daggers at Alastors back as you two walked off chatting happily.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WOOOOOOWWWW LOOK AT ME POSTING AGAIN YEAAHHHHH WHAT CAN I SAY I HAVE A PROBLEM

And you bitches too I literally uploaded my Hazbin Hotel posts minutes ago and yall are eating it up already.

I mean ofc thank you sm for all the love (🥹🧡) but DAMN yall good? Anyone need a therapist?

Haha, just kidding...we all do.

ANYWAAAYSSS

I HAVE SOOO MANY MORE IDEAS AND I CANT WAIT TO WRITE THEM AND SHARE THEM WITH YOU GUYS.

I'm also thinking about writing a pt.2 for this so lemme know if yall would be interested😎

I hope you enjoyed your reading ladies, gentleman and others, good afternoon good evening and goodnight🧡🦖

#male reader #hazbin x you #hazbin x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin alastor x reader

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missmonsters2 · 1 year

Note

🥶

WandaNat

Pairing: WandaNat x Fem!Reader

Warnings: awkward!reader. clint slander. WandaNat no mercy.

Note: i miss them

Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3

Count: 999 (🧍‍♀️)

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

This was your worst nightmare—trapped between the bodies of two incredibly hot, kind, and funny women.

And no, it wasn't in the sexy way—your brain refused to even let you go down that route. You'd implode at even the slightest thought of it.

This was Clint's fault, you quietly seethed, plotting his gruesome murder that could later be turned into a true crime podcast. Laura will have to be a widowed single mother, and the children will have to grow up fatherless, but surely it was for the best.

"Come down to visit us!" Clint said to you, your mind mimicking his voice unflatteringly. "It's been way too long since you guys came to stay with us."

It was a normal occurrence; you thought nothing of it. You, Wanda, and Natasha often went to stay with Clint and his family quarterly. Natasha visited more with her girlfriend, Wanda, and they invited you every time, but you settled that four times a year was enough.

It was usually fun, and the time spent was enjoyable, so you really had thought nothing about it.

Until Clint decided he was actually the incarnate of the devil and condemned you for some undisclosed sin.

"Oh, you three are cool sharing a room, right? The other spare bedroom is under renovation. I mean, one of you can take the couch but I highly don't recommend it with what the kids have spilled on it over the years."

No, it wasn't okay, you wanted to say at the time, but Wanda and Natasha nonchalantly waved Clint off and told him it was fine, and the conversation breezed on, never to be returned to again.

Why would he invite all three of you if there wasn't enough space!? You tried to tell Wanda and Natasha that you could drive to the nearest hotel at night, but they looked at you strangely and asked if you hated them. It was jokingly, but you could hear a tinge of hurt in their voice, which silenced you from offering to leave again.

But now you were suffering.

The bed was way too small for three people but left enough room for just a couple of inches to keep you from coming into skin-to-skin contact with either redhead.

You stared at the ceiling, despite being unable to make out any details of the room in the darkness.

Why the fuck were you in the middle?

You should've been on the edge. At least then, you could hang half your body off it to keep some distance.

You started at the edge of the bed—make no mistake. But then Natasha came to your side and asked you to scootch over. You assumed she preferred sleeping on the right side, so you started to make your way down to the other side. But then, to your horror, Wanda climbed in from the other end, effectively trapping you in the middle.

The words were caught in your throat as you tried to force them out and ask if you could have the edge, but Natasha and Wanda mumbled their goodnights before promptly falling asleep.

This was unacceptable; you mentally cried. This was—weird. You know that Wanda and Natasha have been together for ages, and they probably didn't care, but it was strange to be in the middle of them like this. You're way too awkward for this.

It brought up the unwanted feelings you've been trying to get rid of for months.

The worst part was that it was winter, and this room was so fucking cold. Was Clint going through financial hardship? Why isn't there any heat in this room?

You wished him ill, you wished him ill, you wished bad things upon Clint Barton.

You shifted, trying to pull the blanket up higher and shrink yourself to retain some of the heat. You turned on your side, facing Wanda's back, and frowned. You could practically feel the heat radiating off her and wanted to scoot away from her. But you couldn't. You'd scoot right into Natasha, who was also radiating heat as she faced your back.

At this moment, you hated them for being so unaware of their temptations.

You swallowed. Moving a little closer to Wanda wouldn't be too bad, right? Just to steal a bit more of her warmth, so you could fall asleep and wake up early to get out of bed.

You scooted a little closer, your nose just inches away from her back since there wasn't much wiggle room. Her heat emitted off her like a goddamn fireplace, and you sighed a little at the warmth on your nose and the parts of your cheeks.

It was still pretty cold, and you shivered a little.

Your movement seemed to wake Wanda as she lifted her head to look around at you. You looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Turning back, Wanda lay her head back down and shut her eyes with a yawn.

You started to scoot back to where you were, but Wanda grabbed your wrist from under the blanket and pulled it over her waist as she shuffled back into you.

The warmth pressed against your front jolted you, and you were stiff, despite how good it felt.

"любимая, she's cold," Wanda mumbled in the dark as she threaded her fingers through yours.

Wanda was clearly speaking to Natasha because the redhead behind you shifted and moved closer until she was pressed against your back snuggly. Her arms wrapped around your midsection as she tangled her legs through yours.

You wanted to die.

You wanted to kill Clint Barton and then run into oncoming traffic.

"Um," you croaked.

"Is this better?" Natasha mumbled sleepily, and she was so close you felt her lips move against your shoulder.

No.

Yes.

No.

"Uh," you dragged out before finally deciding with an awkward stiff, "Yes."

It was warm—almost too warm now. You closed your eyes with a silent groan.

You weren't getting any sleep tonight.

#wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat x reader #wanda maximoff x you #natasha romanoff x you #wandanat x you #wanda maximoff imagine #natasha romanoff imagine #wandanat imagine #wanda maximoff fluff #natasha romanoff fluff #mm: my fics #mm.drabble.wandanat

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dreamauri · 5 months

Note

hii!! i love your writing and i have an idea. toto wolff’s daughter used to date max but they broke up (bc yk mercedes and redbull rivalry) and she starts dating a footballer (it can be anyone that you want but i was thinking mason mount), but out of nowhere they break up and he shares in a podcast idk that shes still in love with her ex, max. id love to see how this would end 🫶🏻

┊𝗕𝗟𝗔𝗖𝗞 𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗗𝗔𝗬𝗦 ┇︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦˚₊ ┇ . 🌿 :: pairing — ( max verstappen x fem! wolff! reader ) ┇ . 🫧 :: ⁠genre — ( angst ) ┇ . 🌿 :: ⁠word count — ( 2, 104 ) ╰ 🫧 :: ⁠ content warning — ( X )

★ ☆ This was from like august, im so sorry its so late. ik the annon said anson mount, but i dont really know his personality that well, so you can just imagine any person you want ig ━━━━━

( main master list | more of max verstappen ) ( requests )

2021

Everything was so blurry. You could see the illumination coming from your phone, little blurry grey and blue texts. You couldn't feel your body, ragged, unsteady breaths falling to and from your lungs.

"Block him. And delete his number. I don't want you to go out with him or be seen with him ever again." Your father's strong voice was the only sound in the room. You looked up at him with pleading eyes, but he wouldn't even look at you, rubbing his eyes as he sat on the bed of your hotel room.

Too many things were happening at once. This wasn't fair. This was wrong. "Aber papa." [but dad] "My words are final, Y/N." He spoke with such authority and strictness, you hated it when he was like that with you. Looking back down at you phone, you saw the 'seen' under the last bubble of text you sent.

Panic shot through you like a sharp arrow, hurt climbing through you. Scrambling quickly, you block the number and delete the contact. You couldn't bare to see the reaction or the reply. And you stood like that for a few minutes, the world falling apart as Toto talked. But you weren't listening. And you didn't want to listen. You didn't want to hear his voice.

And before you were to even realize it, you'd smashed the phone against the wall.

You tore the Mercedes shirt off your body, replaced it with a random sweater, stomping around the room, collecting your things. "What are you doing?" Toto stood up, watching you stuff you belongings in your bag. He held your wrist to stop you but you only yanked your arm back, shouting something at him, anything at him.

Toto was defiantly taken aback. He's never seen his little girl like this. Eyes red with tears, yet so angry. He never even thought he'd hear such hurtful words from you either. No father ever wants to hear 'i hate you' from their daughter, and it hurt right in his chest. You shoved the Mercedes shirt in chest, zipping up your bag and headed straight for the door.

"My love—" "Ich bin keine tochter von dir." [I'm no daughter of yours] Was the last thing he heard from you before the door was slammed shut.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

2023

The Las Vegas GP had truly ruined the city. Max couldn't even have a nice drive from his hotel to the circuit in peace. The traffic was heavy and the honking was loud. At this point if max could, he'd just dump the car in any corner and walk the few kilometres himself. But he couldn't. And this added another reason as to why he hated this Grand Prix so much.

Try something else, he told himself. Disconnect. Max turned on the radio flipping through the channels every two seconds when his ear caught something. His stomach was flipped upside down and he was pretty sure he felt like his lungs would explode.

"You broke up with Y/N L/N recently." "Yeah, I have." "But she was such a nice girl." "She is. She really is. She wasn't clingy or needy. Like the perfect amount." "And beautiful as well." "Very beautiful, if you get what i mean." The men on the podcast laughed. Max felt him self frown. How dare they talk about you like this was some sort of goldy locks story.

"Yeah, She's perfect and all. But she's really hung up on her ex. You didn't even have to ask her, you could just look at her and tell that she wanted something else. I'm not going to say names, but the guy really fucked her up."

fucked her up? Max felt his heart skip a beat, or even more likely, it stopped beating at all. He turned the radio off quickly, gripping the steering wheel till his knuckles bled white. Of course he had fucked you up, no wonder things went the way they did. They shouldn't have went that way. He should've never gotten his rival team's boss' daughter to fall for him.

No! What was Max thinking? The months he spent with you were the best things that have ever happened to him. It wasn't his fault. How would he know the Mercedes and Red Bull relationship would grow so bitter. How would he knew you'd be caught in the cross fire. He spends one winter break with you and then it all rips to shreds.

Was that why you changed your Last name? So he wouldn't find you? Must've been since it did work in your favour.

Y/N L/N.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Y/N L/N, Max thought as he typed the name into google. Your face was the first thing to pop up and Max had to hold down a gulp.

You definitely grew up. The playful and bubbly aura to the girl had almost completely dissipated, leaving a quiet and mature woman who looked very serious and uninterested, with a defiantly much more womanly body, enough to get you on the cover of vogue.

"You okay, mate?" Max looked up seeing Checo. They were gonna do the opening ceremony at any moment and the world champion did not look like he was in his head. Max quickly swiped off the tab and shrugged. "Nothing, just some drama." The blond waved it off, tucking the phone in his pocket.

The teams were being announced, starting with HAAS all the way up in the constructor ranking. "I never took you for a person to be interested in drama and stuff." Well, Checo was correct: Max wasn't into that kind of thing. He just happened to stalk his ex by accident since he couldn't get the thought of her out of his head.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"You lied to me." You huffed, stuffing your hands in your pockets, refusing to take a step further. "I didn't lie to you, technically. I just didn't tell you." Your friend shrugged, hooking her arm with yours and forcefully pulling you along while you tried to resist. "I don't want to be here, you tricked me." "I did."

It was certainly a sight. Lady gaga dragging Y/N L/N at the paddock of the Las Vegas GP. "The cars dont bite, N/N." "Yeah! That's because I'll be the one biting you!" The woman quickly let go of you at the threat. You went to walk out only to find people looking at you with exited and confused eyes. The exit was now too far.

With a dissatisfied sigh, you held out your hand and Lady Gaga took it, continuing to pull you along. "Today's just the race. So we'll watch. We'll wave the flag and then we'll leave." "I'm not waving the flag." "I'll do it."

You folded your arms, watching from the bottom of the grid on the side as the drivers arrived on the grid. The cars were lined up with car #16 and #1 on the top row, thankfully far away from you. Thankfully, the Mercedes were also far enough as well. You definitely wouldn't stand out in some non-flashy hoodie and shorts. You would've dressed better if you knew you were going to end up being forced into this.

People didn't really notice you at all, more concentrated on the drivers and celebrities. But they soon did notice you, a celebrity being pointed at by a driver. 'No way' Danny ric mouthed, face bright with surprise, a wide smile and arched eyebrows. He waved you over, and waved even harder when you shook your head in decline. You didn't want to appear rude. So you stood to his side, side hugging him as he rambled on about how much you missed. And you listened. You couldn't hate danny. he was like a big brother since f1 was practically your life.

"You should've told me you were coming, ya know." "I didn't even know I was coming." You chuckled, looking around.

FUCK! you looked away quickly, cutting the eye contact with Max short. Bad idea. Very bad idea. You thought, heart hammering in your chest.

"He still loves you." "Huh?" You looked up at Daniel confused. "Max." "no no." you shook your head. "He does." "he doesn't." "He was searching you up." You paused. "I saw it, your name on google." "That's called stalking—" "But he still thinks of you." "good point . . ." "You should think about it, considering how things ended. I think you should at least be on the same page." ". . . thank you danny."

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Oh shit." You looked at gaga confused. "Hold this for a second, something's in my eye." She handed you the chequered flag, more like shoved it into your chest while she went to fix her eyelash.

"A little faster." Your hurried, hearing the cars come around turn 17. But gaga took a step back continuing to try and fix her issue. With a huff, you stepped forward, leaning your body on the railing, waving the flag just in time for Max who crossed first.

When all the cars finished the last lap you finally took a step back, flexing your wrist tiredly from doing all these Xs. You turned to see Gaga smiling at you, her eyelashes long forgotten because there wasn't an issue all along.

"You suck." You grumbled, and she laughed taking the flag from you. And just like that, finally you were able to get out of there. The crowds were too busy watching the podium ceremony to see you exit and leave through the parking lot.

You plopped in your car, turning on the engine. You couldn't bring yourself to drive out though. The excuse would be that the engine was still not warm enough. But really, you didn't want to leave behind those blue eyes again. they deserve an explanation for what they read that night two and a half years ago. But it's not like max would know you're waiting for him, or find you if that's the case. How would he know you're waiting for him in your car?

Well however he knew, he knew. The passenger door was opened and the Dutch man sat in the seat next you. You didn't even realize he had been looking for you throughout the whole parking lot, hoping to see you again. You've been looking down at your hands for goodness knows how long. You only looked up one you heard him cup his hands together and blow into them.

You cleared your throat, turning the seat warmer on for him. He must've gotten used to the warm Monaco weather for a cold city like this. The two of you sat in silence for a couple minutes. You didn't dare to look back at him, because you knew he was looking at you. And if you looked at him, who knows what would happen next because for sure you're still fucking dying to kiss him.

"Max, I'm sorry." / "Y/N, I'm sorry."

The two of you froze, looking at each other. "You go first." Max nodded.

You took in a deep breath, trying to collect your thoughts. "I didn't mean to end things that way." and i didn't want it to end, you wanted to add but opted to leave that out. "Torger barged in my room and told me to end it right then and there. I didn't really have a say in anything." You sighed deeply, scratching the back of your neck. A moment of silence dawned in the car until Max spoke again.

"That explains the spelling mistakes." he chuckled lightly, opening his phone and scrolling through until he found your message chat. You could see the 'ts pver' and 'domt tezt or tqlj to me wver afqin' messages at the bottom. an un received message holding the words 'wait what?' 'baby whats going on' you never saw these messages, you'd blocked him by then.

"We should've talked." You admitted. "In person- discussed things. This wasn't fair to you . . . I really am sorry. I should've never let someone take control of me like that. I ended up hurting you."

". . . I always thought you hated me." You sprung up eyes wide as you turned to him. "No no. Never." You shook your head. You weren't even over him. "I don't hate you, I never did, Max. You're too amazing and important to me for that." You didn't even realize the words coming out of your mouth.

The words that led the blond to cup the back of your neck and pull you into a kiss. A kiss he'd been waiting almost 3 years for.

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greenorangevioletgrass · 5 months

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fever pitch (b.b) - prologue

soundtrack: mastermind - taylor swift pairing: footballer!bradley x popstar!reader synopsis: Bradley shoots his shot in public, but will he fumble when he meets you in person? warnings: language, drinking, meet cute notes: my first series in a while! this is shamelessly based on the epic Taylor Swift/Travis Kelce saga currently happening rn, and combine that with my innate love of football (the kicking kind, not the NFL kind) and... voila! I hope you enjoy this. Let me know what you think in the comments, reblogs, and asks. Happy reading! <3 ✨I do not have a taglist. Please follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass and turn on the notification to get the latest update on my fics✨

Soccer Sensation Bradley Bradshaw Fails To Shoot His Shoot With Y/N At Her Concert?

Arsenal captain Bradley Bradshaw may be among his club’s top scorers this season, but even he misses a chance in romance like the rest of us.

The 29-year-old athlete spoke about his missed opportunity with the multi-platinum songstress Y/N while speaking to his former teammate Héctor Bellerín on the latter’s podcast, “More Than A Footballer”, earlier this week.

When asked about any fun stuff he did last weekend, Bradshaw replied,

“I went to the Y/N concert at Wembley [Stadium]... it was awesome. It was pouring rain, but it was amazing. I don’t remember Wembley ever being that electric aside from, like, cup finals. She was sensational.”

Bellerín nods in agreement, having heard great things about the famed singer-songwriter’s live concerts.

Unprompted, the American midfielder then continued,

“If you’ve heard about the tour, there’s this tradition of trading friendship bracelets. And I actually made one with my number on it, hoping I could give it to her after the show…”

The Cockney-raised Spaniard cackled in surprise and teased him, “But she didn’t wanna see you, bruv? [That is] legend!”

“No hard feelings!” Bradshaw raised his hands in defense over the Zoom call. “She needed to dry off and get warm. Gotta make sure she stays healthy, protect those vocal cords. But yeah, I was a bit bummed out about it.”

Bellerín laughed and jokingly addressed the camera, “Y/N, if you’re watching, give my boy a chance, will you?”

Mononymous pop sensation Y/N is hot off of her Kaleidoscope North American Tour, which wrapped in September. Her six-show run at Wembley Stadium this November officially kicks off the European leg of her sold-out tour.

Will they be the next pop royalty and conquer the stadiums with their own crafts, or will this fizzle out as this week’s viral anecdote? The ball is in your court, Y/N.

Y/N’s representatives have not responded for comment.

***

Your Miu Miu heels click and clack against the ground. The pavement gleams after the rain and glistens under the streetlights. Everywhere you look, your eyes hurt. Down, and you worry about slipping into a puddle and falling on your ass. Forward, and a million camera flashes are ready to give you an aneurysm.

All in the name of reporting your night off of work, performing live in front of 90,000 people in a stadium.

In other words, all in a day’s work.

There’s a moment of reprieve, when the silvery white blitzes disappear into the dim tangerine lighting of the lobby. The flight down the stairs is so dark, you’re seeing green. It takes your eyes a moment to adjust, but as soon as they do, the thumping bass line of some dance music hits your ears. Clashing perfumes doused on the dancing, dressed-up bodies that you have to weave through.

You are seriously regretting your girl friends’ invite to a night out. You could’ve just had them over to your hotel, open a bunch of red wine, and you would’ve still had a blast. But no. You had to say yes to going to the Cuckoo Club with Lacey, Amara, and Jo.

And this evening is making you feel quite cuckoo.

There’s champagne at your booth and you’re much too eager to take a glass and start a toast. “Cheers, bitches!” you yell over the music, clinking your glass against theirs before downing the whole thing in one go.

It’s nowhere near enough.

There’s not enough buzz to dull the assault to your senses—not even after the three glasses of wine at dinner earlier. Everything is still too loud, too bright, too crowded, too… much.

“Hey!” you nudge Amara, who is sitting right next to you. “Let’s do shots!”

She turns to you, eyes widening at the slightest. “I thought you wanted to take it easy tonight!”

“Changed my mind,” you shrug, as you get up to the bar.

While you make your way through the crowd on the dance floor, Bradley Bradshaw looks up from his booth and does a double-take at the girl who just walked by. Even in a high-end club full of the well-dressed and well-heeled, people still get starstruck. And why wouldn’t they? You’re about as famous as an iPhone.

His eyes widen and immediately whips out his phone to shoot a text to his oldest and most trusted friend Natasha Trace.

‘Dude, I’m in the club and Y/N just walked in. What do I do??’

Natasha thankfully texts back almost immediately. Then again, maybe being a Communications Director for a major company requires her to be a good texter. ‘Wdym what do you do? Just go talk to her.’

‘You were supposed to introduce us!’ Bradley replies, eyes darting between his phone and you at the bar, conflicted.

Natasha is a mutual friend of yours, too, and when the Bracelet-gate clip went viral, she laughed in his face for a full 5 minutes before deciding to set the two of you up. But the schedule never really aligned, so he hasn’t got a chance to see you. Not even after he went to your concert with a friendship bracelet and a dream.

And now, seeing you here in the same room at the same time as him…

‘What do you want me to do, get down there and do it for you?’

‘...Can you?’

He senses the judgment even as the three dots appear on his screen.

‘Stop being a pussy, Bradshaw. Let me Netflix and chill with my gf in peace.’

Bradley scoffs, half-annoyed and half-fond. ‘Asshole. Have fun.’

The dance floor clears up, just enough to see that you’re right there. Leaning against the bar in your dress like a dirty daydream, talking to the bartender, and he couldn’t just let you go without a word. He thought about it, and he simply couldn’t.

“Oi, where are you off to?” His teammate Martin hollers, while the others watch him make his way to the bar in determined strides.

He squeezes past patrons across this jungle of a club, hoping to God that somebody hasn’t beaten him to talk to you yet, or you haven’t ducked out completely. Oh fuck. You’re still there, though. Good. You’re still at the bar, still glimmering under the mirrorball. Just a tap on the shoulder away. You can do it, Bradshaw…

“Excuse me, I—”

You feel the hand on your shoulder just as you turn and stand up, and in a flurry of miscoordination, looks up just as the other person moves in.

In a stroke of dumb luck, Bradley feels the top of your head slamming up against his nose and he groans in pain. “Ohh!”

“Shit! Oh my God…” you gasp, reaching out to the man in front of you. He’s tall, very tall, and you can’t quite see his face with his massive hand clutching his nose. “I’m so sorry…”

“No, it’s okay. My bad…” It really doesn’t seem like it, so he lets go of his nose and smiles sheepishly. Gosh, he must’ve looked stupid right now.

But you see it differently. What you see is a dashing man in a sleek tieless navy suit and a well-groomed mustache, straight out of a Cinemascope flick, ever so handsome despite his reddened nose from the way you just accidentally headbutted him. “No, that was totally mine. Are you okay?”

Your eyes are crystal clear even in the dim light, the concern is palpable in your gaze—and rightly so. It’s just that he’d take the headbutt any day, if it means he can look at your beautiful face. “I’m… I’m swell. Y/N, right?”

There’s a shift in your gaze. First, alert—you’re assessing how much of a potential threat this person is, whether they’re gonna be weird about you— and then it relaxes. Not a threat. Then a slightest hint of mischief, like she wants to know what kind of dynamics they would have. “Have we met?”

And boy, can he.

“We haven’t, actually. But I went to your show at Wembley earlier this week. You were amazing.” He offers a handshake. “Bradley Bradshaw.”

You didn’t quite catch his name over the blaring music, although you shake his hand anyway. “Sorry?”

He leans into your ear, “I’m Bradley Bradshaw.”

You don’t know which one makes your heart skip, the sudden close proximity, the warmth of his timbre, or the whiff of his perfume.

“Right. Nice to meet you, Bradley Bradshaw.” You accept his handshake, hoping he doesn’t see how flustered you are in the strobing purple light.

“Likewise.” He nods with a smile. “And may I just say… you look stunning.”

“What, this old thing?” You brush down the art nouveau-inspired Balmain dress on your body. You’re just being modest, of course; you know you’re dressed to the nines. You have never been much into facial hair, but somehow that mustache suits him very well. “You don’t look so bad yourself. You remind me of a… young Robert Mitchum. Or Paul Newman— or one of those Golden Age leading men.”

His face lights up. It’s hardly the first time he received that kind of compliment, but when it came from you, it feels… different. It feels special. It makes him just a little bolder. “Yeah? Maybe after a few drinks, I’ll be quoting lines from Butch Cassidy. Or would you prefer Cat On A Hot Tin Roof?”

This piques your interest. A man of culture, it seems. But of course, you can’t be too sure. “I’m more of a Paris Blues kinda gal, I’m afraid.”

Gosh, you don’t swoon so easily and he likes you so much for that. “Makes sense.”

“How so?”

“It’s a good underrated musical movie, for the musically gifted… And Sidney Poitier was just fantastic in that.”

“Huh.” You raise your eyebrows. You honestly thought he was just spouting the famous titles. But the fact that he has likely seen this hidden gem might just mean he’s really into it. “Aren’t you full of surprises.”

He leans in to speak in your ear yet again. “If you stick with me for a bit, I might show you another surprise or two.”

The music drowns out your racing heart just barely, and the bartender places a whole set of tequila shots on the bar top, and it snaps you out of your reverie for a moment.

“Wanna get some air?”

He seems surprised, but of course he wasn’t gonna throw away this shot. “Sure. Why not?”

You instruct the bartender to send the shots to your booth, not even spending ten seconds to ponder staying in this deafening hell hole. Not when this man looks like peace. Perhaps an undercurrent of mystery underneath, but his whole demeanor is as calm and comforting as those old-school movies you put on to fall asleep. At the same time, something about this person pulls you in, it’s almost magnetic, and you can’t help wanting to see this through.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fluff #footballer!bradley #footballer!bradley x popstar!reader #top gun imagine #top gun au #ava writes #fever pitch

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flanaganfilm · 1 month

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howdy!! do you rewatch your own work? if so, how often? im wondering if it has the same "artist just sees faults with what they create" thing, or if youre able to appreciate past projects the way they deserve

I don't, typically... usually, by the time we're finished with post production, I've seen the thing so many times that I'm thrilled to stop watching it. I'm either sick of it, or just feeling like it doesn't belong to me anymore. There are other reasons, too - Hill House was a traumatic production for me, for example, I have a lot of complicated emotions woven into it, so I haven't felt ready to rewatch that one since before it aired. Maybe in a few more years.

Somewhat recently, I've revisited a few of the older movies with my eldest son, who is 13 now. He's basically as old as my career itself. We've watched Oculus, Hush, The Midnight Club (which he LOVED, proving it worked for our target audience) and Ouija: OOE together, and each of those screenings was a really cool experience. His reactions and questions were really fascinating, and I felt like I was able to see those movies anew through his eyes. That's the closest I've come to feeling like I was really seeing them, and that's only because so much time has gone by for those. I watched the Director's Cut of Doctor Sleep a few years back at the Stanley Hotel in Estes Park Colorado. It was part of a live NoSleep Podcast event, and that was the first time I'd seen that movie since it was released. It was also the first and only time I'd ever seen the Director's Cut with an audience. That was a really special screening and it meant a lot to me.

I haven't yet had the guts to revisit any of the TV series other than Midnight Club. As my kids get older, I'm sure I'll watch them all with them. The one I'm most excited to see is Midnight Mass, which remains my favorite of the shows. I haven't seen it since before it came out - I remember the last day of post on that show, watching down each episode with final mix and color. That's a series I wish I could actually watch like a viewer at home, and while I'll never truly be able to do that, I look forward to looking at it with some real distance.

There are a few of the older projects I'd be curious to watch now. I wonder how Absentia holds up - I was such a baby when we made that movie, and it's been so long. I imagine I could watch that today and have a really trippy experience. I also haven't revisited Before I Wake in a very long time, and I always really loved that script. The movie was a rough road, and my feelings were mixed by the time it finally found its finish line (Relativity Media really beat that one up), but that could also be a really interesting viewing experience at this stage of my career.

But generally, each of these movies is a journey, and once the journey is over it's tough to ever really go back. There's little point, and moving forward feels like a matter of survival. The "finished product" is only the tip of a large, deep, labyrinthian iceberg for me. It's impossible to only see what's on the surface, no matter how hard I try.

(Interesting side-note: The only exception I've found to this rule is The Life of Chuck. We just finished post production on the movie, and I've watched it dozens and dozens of times now - but I've never grown tired of it, not even a little bit. That movie is something special, and I am eager to watch it again - and again - and again. I don't know that I'll ever want distance from that one; in fact, watching it brings me a sense of joy, comfort, and safety.)

#midnight mass #the fall of the house of usher #the haunting of hill house #the midnight club #doctor sleep #the haunting of bly manor #ouija origin of evil #oculus #before i wake #absentia #ouija: origin of evil #gerald's game

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mclennonlgbt · 1 month

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(JUST LIKE) STARTING OVER WAS DEFINITELY FOR PAUL – a compilation

A meaningful wordplay As you know, John attached great importance to the lyrics of his songs. He liked to smuggle in word games and hidden meanings. Let's look at a fragment of the lyrics of "(Just Like) Starting Over". It's time to spread our wings and fly Wings was Paul's band in the 1970s.

Don't let another day go by

"Another Day" is a song by Paul and Linda that was released as the A-side of a non-album single in February 1971. It was Paul's debut single, following the Beatles break-up in 1970. (Sidenote: giving credits to both himself and Linda, Paul broke up the Lennon-McCartney partnership, angering Allen Klein).

my love

"My Love" is a 1973 song by Wings. The single was viewed as Wings' first significant success.

2. The demos

In the first demo, John uses the word "walrus":

Everyday we used to make it love so why can’t we be making love – it’s easy. The time has come, the walrus said, for you and me to stay in bed again, it’ll be just like starting over

The walrus is a famous motif from Beatles songs. In the song "I Am The Walrus" (1967) John declares that he is the titular walrus, a year later in "Glass Onion" he stated: „And here’s another clue to you all – the walrus was Paul”. In "God" (1970) John sings: "I was the walrus." In an interview from 1969 or 1970, George jokes: „And if you are listening, I am the walrus too”. Regardless of which Beatles was the walrus, John is for sure giving us an interesting clue here.

As for „in bed”:

Here's another fascinating demo... This requires no comment. It's just that John suddenly referred to "Why Don't We Do it In the Road", a song by Paul from the Beatles era.

EDIT:

The whole fragment is:

Just take your clothes off honey, and stick your nose in money.. why don’t we… do it in the road?! (Laughs) A little hotel where we used to screw A little place down in Montauk Just you, me, the cook and the servants too

As @i-am-the-oyster pointed out (the screen is theirs) - it's a 17 minute drive from Paul's house in the Hamptons to Montauk Motel.

3. John explaining who the song is for

„I’m not aiming, I am not aiming at 16 year olds. If they can dig it, please dig it. But when I was singing and writing this and working with her, I was visualizing all the people of my age group from the 60s. Being in their 30s and 40s now, just like me, and having wives and children and having gone through everything together, I am singing to them! I hope the young kids like it as well, but I’m really talking to the people that grew up with me and saying: „Here I am now, how are you? How’s your relationship going? Did you get through it all? Wasn’t the 70s a drag? You know, here we are, let’s try and make the 80s good, you know, because it’s still up to us to make what we can of it. It’s not out of our control”. I still believe in love, peace. I still believe in positive thinking when I can do it. I’m not always positive but when I am, I try and project it”.

Source: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rqxPx2Tvf6A

Let’s point out that the song which convinced John to come out of retirement was „Coming up” by Paul. You want a love to last forever One that will never fade away I want to help you with your problem Stick around, I say

(…)

You want some peace and understanding So everybody can be free I know that we can get together We can make it, stick with me

BONUS (this is not evidence or premise, but maybe Paul understood that the song was addressed to him): Paul's reaction to the song after John's death.

„…Time passed. Paul locked the door of his home studio and played (Just Like) Starting Over, the first single from Double Fantasy. Top volume. For days”.

- Christopher Sandford, „McCartney”

EDIT:

(it's also @i-am-the-oyster's reveal): One Sweet Dream podcast did an interview where May Pang agreed with the host (JL)SO was for Paul and emphasised that it wasn't about Yoko -- it's a patrons-only episode so I can't link it, but it's April 2023, around the 1h29 mark).

#mclennon #paul mccartney #john lennon #mclennon tinted song analysis

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valen-nidk · 1 month

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Family dynamic. | Vox's sibling!Reader.

Content: Implicit imposter syndrome, subtle hints of depression. General description of S.Reader's relationship with The Vee's.

A/N: Probably the last thing you'll see of this particular reader unless I get requests for potential relationships with other Hazbin hotel characters.

Frankly, Hell wasn't exactly what you had in mind, if anything, this particular ring of Hell was like Earth with extra steps and fancier titles: people (read: sinners) still got killed, sometimes there was a transactional reason behind, sometimes just because ; consent was also a bit of a myth here too ; politics? Not exactly. Religion? Uh, duh — after all, the fancy titles previously mentioned were: Archangels, Seraphims, Angels, Sinners and Hellborns (was Adam his own category? His title was First Man and, according to some sources, he had self-proclaimed as Dickmaster or the original dick).

The only upside thus far was that your physical form was kind of cool (literally, a humanoid robot so... an android that had to regulate its body temperature to not overheat), no bones ached, no muscles hurt and you couldn't get sick (a virus, maybe...?) plus your cult leader brother was, to no one's surprise, a cult leader! With the power of hypnosis which, in retrospective, was kind of like his gig back on Earth with manipulation skills that had been perfectly crafted and mastered throughout years and years of studying the human psique and emotions.

The TV head was... new. Unexpected, certainly hilarious even if the context was gruesome to an extent. It made sense, same goes with you: the right-hand, the prophet of this newfound god. Although your form was different since you died electrocuted because of a faulty electrical connection.

Ah yes, what is there to do in Hell..? The Radio Demon had gone missing as well as Lilith, part of you heavily believes that those two separate events are, in fact, connected despite the lack of evidence. A hunch though without something to back it up, you kept quiet — after all, you weren't a big mastermind, though you did enjoy chaos and creating a ridiculous amount of back-up plans in case something went terribly wrong. Cautious? Anxious? Oh, yeah. Your stubborn egotistical brother was careless when going through his many power-trips or when his rage made his (seemingly) perfect persona crack, hence why you just had to have ways to ammend any and all mistakes. Problems made you uneasy, utterly sick — gotta fix 'em, gotta have potential solution for every possible scenario no matter how insane they could be. You never know! You have to know, a sense of being capable of choosing, to own something, just about any single aspect of your life just had to be yours to control.

Nonetheless... Hell, huh. What to do? Unlike Vox, your powers were quite limited and served as support for his, rinse and repeat a life on that one. Besides that, you weren't an official Vee member, more like an honorary one — and thanks to you being a charmer, a problem solver (people-pleaser) and overall someone who rather live comfortably, well... You started babysitting looking after Valentino whenever Vox was too busy (read: didn't want to put up with his bullshit) and this lead to uhhh, unwillingly being dragged to his studio. The porn actors loved you, which made Valentino hate you but also love you as well because "motherfuckers are more willing to cooperate when there's una cara bonita como la tuya around these parts" while squeezing your 'cheeks' (screen). Yeah, you didn't get why Vox wanted this mothman carnally, though his voice was podcast material, the accent? Delicious.

Now when it came to the backbone of The Vee's, it was a trickier situation — mostly due to not having an actual reason to interact with Velvette. Sure, you guys exchanged texts like roasting Vox and Valentino, gossip, some blackmail material... Memes, selfies, the very basic. Being physically in the same room was comfortable, pleasant silences while sitting next to each other and showing funny videos from your respective devices ; or sharing private conversations that were hilarious with or without context, that's for sure! Oh and, let's not forget that this fashionista icon and unforgiving social manager will absolutely roast you if you are dressed like last century. Still, she was kind to you and, in return, you behaved the same way — work collegues, or flatmates would be a way to describe how you two got along.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #🧍 he speaks #hazbin hotel imagine #vox x reader #valentino x reader #velvette x reader #vox x male reader #valentino x male reader #velvette x male reader #vox x gn reader #valentino x gn reader #velvette x gn reader

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schlattsdoll · 9 months

Note

Imagine going to the streamer awards with Schlatt (you’re not a streamer) and if he wins something then once you all get home he makes you cum as many times as he can as a celebration type thing

celebrate- jschlatt

minors dni

paring: schlatt x fem/afab! reader

warnings: smut {18+}, mentions of overstim, schlatt being a horny mf, overuse of pet names {im sorry}

to be quite honest with you, schlatt didn’t even want to go to the streamies. it wasn’t his scene and he was confident in the fact he wasn’t going to win. what sold him on it was seeing you in a tight dress. he took you shopping that morning, you two decided on wearing purple, the color of royalty as you told him. “makes sense, got my beautiful princess so that makes me a king.”

it was almost time to leave as you were putting the finishing touches on your makeup. “doll, we gotta go.” schlatt held your hand as you slid on your heels and even fixed the buckles for you. the tight sequined dress hugged your curves perfectly, the purple complementing your complexion.

“absolutely stunning.” your boyfriend commented with a wolf whistle. “whaddya say we skip this thing? i could do that thing ya like with my tongue.” he smirked and kissed up your neck. “jay, no. this is a big night for you! we have to go, that’s that.” you pushed the larger man away from you and frantically tried to fix your hair.

the car ride to the venue was so exciting for you. having only been with schlatt a few months, you hadn’t been to a streamers event before. “this is gonna be so fun jay! we’re gonna take pictures and you’re nominated! i think you’re gonna win personally.”

he rolled his eyes at the thought of him winning. “‘m glad you’re excited toots. at least one of us is.” you knew he wasn’t the biggest fan of going out, much rather wanting to spend the night back home in austin with you and jambo instead of being in smoggy old la. “c’mon baby, you’ll have fun trust me.” “i think having you bent over the bed would be more fun but okay.” he muttered under his breath.

you were right of course, sitting at the table with his fellow nominees ted and charlie, he started to loosen up a bit. drinks were flowing, laughs were being had, and schlatt started to ease up. “the nominees for best new podcast are…” ethan nestor started reading out their category. “oooh baby listen up!”

schlatt felt his nerves jump back up, he didn’t care about winning honestly. you were just so excited for him and the guys, he didn’t want to disappoint you.

“and the winners of best new podcast are….” you held schlatts hand tightly with one hand while you bit your nails on the other. “chuckle sandwich!” a camera panned over to your table and the guys all got up to go on stage, right after kissing their dates.

“thank you all so much for this amazing award, i think i speak for all of us when i say we definitely didn’t expect to be nominated let alone win. thank you to the fans for tuning in every week and we hope you keep listening!” ted spoke eloquently, a perfect acceptance speech; short and sweet.

once back at the table, his hand made its way to your thigh. “hey doll, don’tcha think i deserve a winner’s reward when we get back to the hotel?” he whispered in your ear then kissed your neck. his hand rubbed your thigh, inching closer and closer to your core. you squeezed them closer together, attempting to block his hand from his target.

the rest of the event was quite draining. all you could focus on was what schlatt was going to do to you later that evening. finally you got to leave and instead of going to the after party, you faked being sick. “sorry guys, im not feeling so hot. i better sit this one out. jay, you don’t mind not going do you? i feel so bad.” you pleaded with the large man, who knew you were faking it. “yeah guys, let’s do a rain check for next chuckle week. gotta make sure my baby’s feelin’ alright.” schlatt wrapped his jacket around you, and walked you towards his car. “congratulations again guys!”

the drive home was an entirely different vibe, schlatts hand was ghosting against your center, teasing you through your underwear. “couldn’t even wait for me to celebrate with my friends? needed me that badly huh doll?” he smirked at you while his fingers grabbed a hold of your panties and pulled them to the side. “s’fuckin’ wet for me…”

his large digits found their way to your clit, rubbing soft slow circles. “that’s it. atta girl. you looked so pretty tonight sweetheart. wanted to take you into a bathroom and fuck the shit outta ya.” your back arched into the seat at his words. “oh you like that idea don’t you princess? me taking care of this sweet cunt wherever i want it, not caring who sees me with what’s mine.”

his fingers speed up, causing you to grip tighter on the center console, “fuck jay, don’t stop. ‘m gonna cum.” “that’s right, cum for daddy.”

the car stopped moving, pulling into the hotel’s lot where schlatt waited until your orgasm subsided to help you out and into the room. once there, he tossed you onto the bed. “i believe i was promised the thing i like?” you smirked up at him.

dropping down to his knees and taking the headband out of his hair, he pulled you closer to the edge. “i’m a man of my word doll. but i’m gonna make you cum so many times you’re gonna cry.”

and once again, schlatt was a man of his word.

#jschlatt x reader #jschlatt imagine #jschlatt smut #jschlatt headcanons #jschlatt fluff #jschlatt #jschlatt hcs #chuckle sandwich imagine #mcyt imagine

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why4anne · 6 months

Text

Racing Hearts

Part: 1

Pairing: Jack Hughes x Reader

Word-count: 2k

Summary: F1 prodigy Y/N L/N finds herself with an unexpected crush on NHL sensation Jack Hughes.

Face claim: Madison Beer + others

Masterlist

“Do I have to do this interview?” I asked my media manager. I had just arrived at my hotel in Canada and apparently I had been scheduled for an Interview in an hour. “Yes, Y/N, you have to do this interview. The other guest has already flown out early to do this interview before the race-weekend starts and it will look really bad if you don’t show up” Sarah has been my media manager since I moved to F1 at the age of 19, which was 3 years ago and she was more than used to my antics by now.

“What is it even about?” I asked as I switched my attention from my phone to fully look at her.

“It’s something about 2 stars at the age of 22 or something. The other guest is Jack Hughes, a hockey player in the NHL” Sarah looked at her notes as she said this.

“Hockey player?” I asked, exasperated.”Sarah, I know nothing about hockey! What are we even going to talk about?”

“Don’t worry, the interviewer will make sure everything goes smoothly. You just have to sit there, smile and answer the questions.” It was obvious that she was fed up with my whining at this point so I decided to shut my mouth.

An hour and a half later I found myself in a white room with three mics standing on a table. I greeted a guy named Evan who was the host of the podcast that the interview was for and sat down in my seat, waiting for this other guy to show up.

Five minutes later I was making small talk with the host as the door opened and a man with light brown hair walked in and fuck was he hot. I found myself staring at him as he shook hands with Evan. I could clearly see his biceps under his white t-shirt and I would be lying if I said that they were small. But, before I could look for longer I found him in front of me with his hand outstretched. I quickly pulled myself out of my daydream and stood up to greet him.

“What’s up, I’m Jack” He introduced himself, his mannerisms and way of talking all screamed cool boy, which was very different from the pampered rich boys who were the majority of the people in racing.

“I’m Y/N, nice to meet you” I answered with a polite smile and shook his hand, locking eyes with him as I did so. I noticed how blue they were.

“Alright, if you both feel up for it I think we should get going” Evan interrupted our moment.

“Sounds good” Jack agreed and we both took our seats.

“Welcome back to the Sport podcast, today we are joined by not one, but two special guests. We have hockey superstar Jack Hughes, a 22 year old center of the New Jersey Devils. He was drafted first overall in 2019 and has just come off a career high season with 99 points and a playoff run.” Evan introduced Jack to the podcast and I couldn’t help but be impressed with his stats. My knowledge in hockey may be limited but the way that Evan was describing him made him sound like a really good player

“Hey” Jack said into the mic. I couldn’t help but smile at his awkwardness .

“And we also have F1 protege Y/N L/N. She is currently the youngest driver on the grid but don’t be fooled, she’d been tearing up the grid for 3 years now and is currently looking like she might become the youngest World Champion in Formula 1 history, bringing the championship back to Ferrari for the first time since 2007.” Evan moved on to me.

“Ah, Evan, don’t jinx it” I smiled, all of my media training on the forefront of my mind and after years of this I would say that I’m quite skilled at the media game.

“Just keeping it real,” Evan chuckled. “Now, how much do you guys know about each other?”

Both me and Jack looked at each other, seeing who was going to answer first.

“Well, to be completely honest, I don’t know a lot about hockey so I’m kind of going into this interview completely blind, sorry” I admitted, feeling kind of bad for my lack of knowledge.

“No worries, I bet that you’re busy, " Jack reassured me. “I would say I’m a casual F1 fan, like I know the top teams and drivers”

"That's fair," I replied with a friendly smile. "I'm sure we can still have an interesting conversation, even if we're not experts in each other's fields."

Evan nodded in agreement and continued, "Absolutely, it's all about getting to know each other better and sharing some insights from your respective worlds. So, Jack, tell us, what's it like being a professional hockey player in the NHL?"

Jack leaned forward, his easygoing smile making him even more charming. "Being in the NHL has been a dream come true for me. It's intense, the competition is fierce, and the fans are incredibly passionate. There's nothing quite like stepping onto the ice in front of a packed arena. You feel the energy and the pressure, but that's what makes it all so exciting."

I listened to Jack's response with genuine interest, even though I had limited knowledge about hockey. He spoke with such passion and enthusiasm that it was easy to understand why he had such a successful career in the sport.

Evan then turned to me and asked, "Y/N, can you share with us what it's like being an F1 driver, especially at such a young age?"

I took a moment to gather my thoughts before responding, "Well, Formula 1 is an incredibly challenging and fast-paced sport with high pressure on the drivers and teams. As a driver, you have to be physically and mentally prepared for each race and you have to put up the results if you want to stay. I mean, there are only 20 seats in the entire world and if you’re not performing there is always another driver who will. I think going into it so young was both a blessing and a curse. It definitely put more attention on me as a driver, but at the same time I kind of got a head start.”

Jack nodded in understanding as I spoke. "Yeah, I can imagine the pressure, especially at such a young age. I mean, you're literally racing against some of the best drivers in the world. It must be quite the experience."

I appreciated his understanding, and I was starting to feel more at ease with the conversation. "Absolutely, and it's a constant learning process. But it's also incredibly rewarding when you have those moments of success and achieve your goals."

Evan jumped in, keeping the conversation flowing smoothly. "It's clear that both of you have a deep passion for your respective sports. What are some of the biggest challenges you've faced in your careers so far?"

Jack took a moment to reflect before answering, "One of the biggest challenges in my career has been dealing with injuries. Hockey can be a rough sport, and I've had my fair share of injuries that required a lot of rehab and patience. But it's part of the game, and it's made me stronger both physically and mentally."

I nodded in agreement, "In F1, the physical and mental demands are also immense. The travel schedule, the constant competition, and the pressure to perform can take a toll. Plus, adapting to different tracks and conditions is a unique challenge in itself. And, of course, there's the challenge of dealing with the media and public expectations."

Evan acknowledged our responses, "It's clear that both of your careers come with their own set of challenges, and yet you've managed to rise to the top of your respective sports. What advice would you give to young athletes aspiring to reach the level of success that you've achieved?"

Jack leaned in and said, "I'd say that dedication and hard work are essential. You have to be willing to put in the hours, stay committed to your training, and never give up, no matter how tough it gets. Surround yourself with a supportive team and use setbacks as opportunities to learn and grow."

I added, "I completely agree with Jack. In addition, I'd say it's important to keep a clear vision of your goals and stay focused. Stay true to your passion and love for the sport because that's what will drive you to overcome the challenges. And never forget that setbacks are part of the journey; they make the successes even more rewarding."

Jack nodded in agreement with my response. "That's some great advice, Y/N. Having a clear vision and staying passionate about what you do is crucial in any career, especially in sports."

Evan smiled and continued, "Thank you both for sharing your insights and experiences. It's clear that you're both dedicated and passionate individuals in your respective fields, and your advice is valuable for anyone striving for success. Now, before we wrap up, let's have a little fun. How about a rapid-fire round of questions for each of you?"

Jack and I exchanged amused glances, ready for the challenge. Evan fired off a series of questions, alternating between us.

"Favorite pre-game ritual?"

Jack answered first, "Listening to music that gets me pumped up."

I followed, "Visualizing the entire race, corner by corner, in my mind."

"Favorite post-game or post-race meal?"

Jack grinned, "Pizza, no doubt."

I chuckled, "A plate of pasta."

"Most memorable career moment so far?"

Jack's eyes lit up, "Scoring my first NHL goal. It was a dream come true."

I shared, "Winning my first F1 race. It was an unforgettable feeling."

As the rapid-fire questions continued, Jack and I found ourselves sharing more personal insights and even some lighthearted stories. We learned about our favorite travel destinations, hobbies outside of our respective sports, and our sources of inspiration.

The interview had transitioned from a professional exchange to a more relaxed and friendly conversation. Jack's charismatic and easygoing personality made it easy to connect, and I found myself genuinely enjoying our interaction. We even exchanged a few friendly jokes along the way, creating a comfortable atmosphere in the studio.

Evan, our host, couldn't help but smile as he witnessed the chemistry between us. "It's clear that you two are getting along great."

Jack nodded with a playful grin, "Yeah! Maybe we'll see Y/N at a hockey game one day."

I laughed, "Well, my media manager told me you’re attending the Canadian Grand Prix this weekend. Maybe I will see you in the Ferrari garage."

Jack chuckled, "I'll be sure to swing by the Ferrari garage and show some support. Maybe you can give me a crash course in F1"

I grinned at the idea. "Deal! And I'll make sure to catch a New Jersey Devils game when the opportunity arises. Maybe you can teach me a thing or two about hockey."

The interview wrapped up and Jack and I exchanged one last friendly smile.

"It was a pleasure, Jack. I’ll see you at the Grand Prix this weekend, I’ll be the one in red" I joked as we said goodbye.

Jack chuckled, "I'm looking forward to it. And if you ever want to catch a hockey game, just give me a call."

I chuckled, "I might just take you up on that offer. Best of luck with your season, Jack."

Jack flashed a warm smile as he nodded. "You too, Y/N. Good luck this weekend."

We both exchanged contact information and made plans to meet up during the Grand Prix this weekend. It was unexpected, but I had enjoyed our conversation, and I was genuinely looking forward to seeing Jack again.

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, jackhughes and 1 242 635 others

yourusername: I had a blast on @/Sports_People today. Go check out their latest episode "Two stars under 22", where @/jackhughes and I delve into our experiences in sports.

view comments:

Sports_People: Such a great episode, thanks for joining us!

liked by yourusername

jackhughes: I had a great time! See you this weekend

- yourusername: I'll be the one in red!😜

holly_hockey: My two faves together? Yes please!

ferrarimorris: I'll be at the race on Sunday, hope you win! Forza Ferrari!

jackhugheswifeyyy: Of course she's pretty aswell, my chances are getting slimmer by the minute🤧

- caufieldsonfire: she's a brunette, don't worry

curiousgeorge: Move to McLaren please! We need youuuu!!🙏💀

#racing hearts au!#jack hughes x reader #jack hughes #formula 1 #hockey fic #hockey fanfiction #nhl #f1 fanfic #f1 #why4anne #Jack Hughes x F1 driver #hockey #Jack Hughes x F1 driver reader #jack hughes fanfic #jack hughes imagines #jack hughes fic #jack hughes imagine

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