#Headquarters Radio
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thislovintime ¡ 2 years ago
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Photo by Matthew Asner:
“First day of school in 9th grade. I am nervous as hell because it is my first day of high school and it’s all new. I walk into my Social Studies Class and am greeted by the teacher who just happens to be Peter Tork of The Monkees. A guy I watched goofing around on TV religiously as a child was teaching me about the world. He was a tough teacher. We had a thing in his class where he would always think that I wasn’t paying attention. He would always make a point of stopping what he was teaching and say to me, ‘What did I just say`’ I would always answer him correctly and it always seemed to frustrate him. He was very smart and loved to read from Mao’s Little Red Book. I was truly happy for him when The Monkees started touring and he found success again. I took this picture in our schoolyard at New Dimensions High School.” - Matthew Asner (Ed Asner’s son), Facebook, July 1, 2023
“Since September he has been teaching English, math, drama, Eastern philosophy and ‘Rock Band Class’ at Pacific Hills, a private secondary school in Santa Monica, Calif. A college dropout, Peter got the job on the strength of his interview with Dr. Penrod Moss, the school’s director. ‘I like to hire people who are independent and creative,’ Moss said. ‘I was impressed by his personality and his ability to speak.’ […] While Tork the musician still has dreams of one day returning to the rock circuit, Thorkelson the teacher is happily planning his next course, ‘Mao, Marx and Mama.’ ‘I’m doing something important,’ he says. ‘I never do anything less than important.’” - People magazine, April 5, 1976
“For some time, [Tork] said, the students in his high school classes had trouble forgetting their teacher was once a teen idol. ‘Until I gave out a few F’s,’ he added, grinning.” - The Clarion Ledger, November 1, 1979 (x)
“I was a schoolteacher in Southern California, and I taught music as well as academics, and I really very much love to teach, and, and I think that if circumstances show me that I am not to entertain anymore or my entertaining career per se winds down, I would very, very much love to coach young entertainers.” - Peter Tork, Headquarters radio, September 1989
“[A]s a teacher, I realized that in order to teach something well you need to understand what your student is going through as they try to learn.” - Peter Tork, The Journal Times Online, August 12, 2005
On a 2018 blog post at the Monkees Live Almanac, one former student, Mark, commented: “Best high school teacher I ever had […]. Tremendous empathy.” (x)
“I taught English and social studies. And sure, the kids probably saw me as a Monkee, but they got over that in a hurry. Once I lost my temper at the kids, they’d see I was just like all the others — and I probably lost my temper too many times, since I was in an angry state back then. I have a life now, that’s the difference. I have a spiritual core. I’m not Shirley MacLaine but I believe in greater or lesser worlds and consciousness. Most people think of themselves as cut off from each other; others know there’s a connectedness that can be tapped into.” - Peter Tork, The Boston Globe, August 10, 1989
“In the mid-’70s, Tork got jobs teaching English, social studies and music at two private schools in the Los Angeles area. The first job, which he enjoyed, was at ‘a radical progressive school in Santa Monica.’ The second was at a school he describes as ‘a holding tank for budding fascists. I couldn’t hack it. I found more integrity in being a singing waiter’ — his next job.” - Los Angeles Times, October 20, 1992 (x)
More about that next job here.
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bibletruths ¡ 8 months ago
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falllpoutboy ¡ 10 months ago
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lucasfilm would really rather make homework: the movie for fucking baby yoda merch sales than a sequel to the st which would ideally build on rey and finn and give them much needed character development and cement them as pop culture icons like their predecessors
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no-144444 ¡ 5 months ago
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my girl- (o.piastri no.81)
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summary: fans made an edit of oscar and you being in love since your prema days.
pairing: oscar piastri (no.81) x fem! driver! reader (no.28)
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Oscar Piastri being in love with Y/n Y/l/n for 15 minutes straight, and vice versa  (F2 -> F1)
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Clip 1: Prema video 
Bahrain Airport, F2 season beginning, March. 
“And here we have the 3 year reigning champion of the Indycar Junior series, making her F2 pivot, Y/n Y/l/n!” Rob cheered as he woke you from your nap on the plane. 
“Shut up,” you groaned, pushing the camera away with a chuckle. “I'm tired, leave me be.”
“The plane is landing, idiot!”
“Hush!” you laughed. “That means ages until we get off, get your camera away Rob!”
Rob and you had gotten the same flight from London, and you’d become fast friends. He was eccentric and overtop, but a good laugh. You were sure you looked crazy. 6 hour flights do that to a person. You and Rob chatted to the camera about the weekend, and you introduced yourself to the Prema fans. Not many people gave a shit about Indycar, and even less cared about Indycar junior. 
As you disembarked the plane and got through security, people stopped you and Rob for photos and whatnot, then you finally got out of the airport. Angelina was standing there with a camera and a big ‘welcome’ sign, and another two very tired teenage boys beside her. 
“Y/n!” she cheered, pulling you both into a hug. “Rob!” 
Little did you know, Rob’s camera was pointed at Oscar, who turned to Fred with a shocked expression and whispered: “She’s gorgeous.” 
Beside him, Fred chuckled. “Go for her.”
“No way I have any chance with her, I-”
“I can hear you, y’know?” you cut in, coming over to introduce yourself. 
He went redder than a tomato, and you all just laughed. 
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Clip 2: Sky Sports channel
Bahrain International Circuit, 27th of March 
“And it’s No. 28 who sees the chequered flag first, the rookie, and the only girl on the grid, Y/n Y/l/n! Pole position in her first race!” 
“That’s P1 Y/n, congratulations,” your race engineer, Pedro, beamed as you crossed the finish line. 
“Motherfuck Guanyu is fast mate, we need to watch out for him- oh, and the other Alpine boy that was trying to flirt with me, what’s his name?” you answered. The Prema garage was full of laughter as you outed Oscar. 
“Oscar Piastri? No.2,” Pedro chuckled. “He failed to flirt with you?”
“Well, bless him, he tried to,” you chuckled as you parked the car. “He’s cute though.”
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“That’s P6 Oscar, and just to let you know, Y/n Y/l/n has outed you on the radio and on live television saying that you tried and failed to flirt with her,” his race engineer said. 
Oscar laughed, finding the situation funny. “My mum’s going to tweet about that.”
“She also called you ‘cute’, if that helps with any bruised ego?”
Oscar’s face lit up under his helmet. “It definitely does,” he chuckled. “Thanks mate.”
“I’d wingman you any time,” he chuckled. 
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Clip 3: Prema video
Prema Headquarters, Grisignano di Zocco, Italy, April.
“Hello everyone,” Robert smiled at the camera. “Today we will be going for a drive, I’d better call Oscar in.”
Oscar sat in the passenger seat and did his belt as they caught up and told the viewers what they’d be watching. 
“So, today, you will be joining us for a drive around the Italian countryside,” Rob smiled. “And we will be answering your questions.”
“Let the questions begin,” Oscar added. He pulled one out of the bowl and read it aloud. “Who’s your favourite Prema team member?”
Rob smiled. “That’s hard, I love the whole Prema team so much, but… yeah, that’s hard. Maybe my race engineer, Fred? I get along quite well with him,” Rob giggled as Oscar nodded.
“What?” Oscar laughed.
“I know your favourite,” Rob smirked. 
Oscar looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Who?”
“La tua ragazza,” Rob chuckled as Oscar rolled his eyes. “What? It is true! You love her!” (La tua ragazza = your girl in Italian)
“I’ve met her once, mate!” Oscar laughed. 
“So you don’t like her? I can ask her out?” Rob deadpanned. 
“Well, no, you can't-” Oscar was cut off by Rob’s laughter and he decided to stop trying to fight him about it. Everyone on the team knew that Oscar Piastri was infatuated with you. 
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Clip 4: Georgie O’Hara’s deleted youtube video. 
Haileybury and Imperial Service College, England. 
“Ok, that’s an awful idea!” Oscar yelled over his friends. “They already know you’re the ones doing it!”
“It’s fine! It’ll be fine!�� Elijah, a good friend of his, smiled. They wanted to set off the fire alarms again, for the third time that week. Deodorant and stupid teenage boys did not mix, especially when they refused to put it on themselves and waste it on fire drills instead. 
Georgie turned to his phone, addressing the viewers "Oscar's a goody-two-shoes, if you couldn't tell."
Suddenly his phone rang from an unknown number, and before he could leave it ring, Anthony (another friend of his) answered. “Oscar Piastri, incoming F2 champion’s phone, how may I help you?”
Oscar laughed, but suddenly stopped when he heard you. 
“Not if I have anything to do with it,” you chuckled at his friend. “Anyways, can you just ask him to ask Elijah not to do the fire alarm thing between 11pm and 2am? The girls in my room and I are sneaking downstairs to watch a film and we don’t really want to get caught.”
Oscar covered his face and groaned, then took the phone off Georgie. “Hey-hi, Y/n. Yes, of course, we won’t do the fire alarm thing, ever again. Sorry.”
He turned his back as his friends made kissing noises and certain gestures at him. 
“All good, thanks Osc,” you smiled. “You and your friends are welcome to join us if you want.”
Oscar could’ve sworn his heart stopped beating. “I’ll ask them,” he smiled. He turned to his friends. “Y/n’s inviting us all to a movie, we’re sneaking out tonight,” he informed them. 
“I don’t want to-” Anthony started, but Georgie silenced him with a kick to the shin. 
“Mate, this is Oscar’s one fucking chance with his girl, shut up,” He scoffed.
“Is that a yes?” You asked over the phone.
“Yes!” they all answered. 
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As the night went on, you found yourself getting more and more tired. Oscar was beside you and you could tell how he was trying to play it cool, but failing miserably. You could practically see the way his heart leapt out of his chest when you held his hand. As ‘The Empire Strikes Back’ ended, you squeezed his hand before getting up and letting go. 
“Alright, I’ll clean up, everyone else go back upstairs before you get caught,” you whispered. The ‘movie room’ as the students called it (it was technically the staff room but no one really cared) was a mess. Blankets, cups, wrappers and pillows were everywhere. The group slowly shuffled out as you were left with only Oscar. Georgie had forgotten about his camera and it was still recording where he’d put it down to get some shots of everyone watching the film. 
“I can help,” Oscar whispered. 
You shook your head. “Seriously, you go ahead. They already hate me at this school anyways,” you chuckled. 
“Please let me help?” he asked again. You couldn’t exactly say ‘no’ to his puppy dog eyes, could you?
“Fine,” you smiled. 
You two chatted quietly as you cleaned up the room, and finally met at the door to leave. 
“I really enjoyed tonight-” You started, but you were cut off by Oscar kissing you. His arms wrapped around your waist and your arms wrapped around his neck once the initial shock wore off. You both pulled away after a few seconds. You stared up at him as his usually-blank face turned to one of panic.
“Sorry if that was forward, or-or weird- or-” He started, but now it was your turn to cut him off with a kiss. 
He pulled back smiling, and he didn’t move his hands, or try to move away from you. There was a moment of silence. “Can I take you on a date?”
You chuckled. “Yes.”
Oscar was elated. 
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Clip 5: Sky sports channel and Prema footage
Circuit de Monaco, Monaco, Monaco, May 22nd. 
You were excited as you stepped onto the podium, victorious. It had been a difficult few laps at the end, Guanyu overtaking, then you overtaking, and over and over, but you got the chequered flag first. You were breaking records, breaking barriers as a woman in motorsports. You’d won Monaco, your first time racing there. In the Sprint, and the feature race. You were on top of the world. As you raised your trophy, the crowd cheered and Oscar was cheering the loudest. 
You looked to your left, him standing on the podium for the first time this season, and you smiled. 
“Feels good, huh?” you smirked. 
“Feels great, but I’ll be coming for your step next,” he smirked.
“You wish Piastri,” you scoffed, then uncorked your champagne bottle and sprayed it on him and Zhou.
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Clip 6: Sky Sports channel, Prema footage
 Autodromo Nazionale di Monza, Monza, 17th of July, Sprint Race. 
“And it’s Y/n Y/l/n into the wall in a bad collision with Liam Lawson, only 2 laps till the end!” 
Everything was in slow motion, one second you were in control, the next you were flipping into the wall. 
“Red flag, red flag Oscar, huge crash in sector 3, come in, come in,” his race engineer said. 
“Who was it?” He asked, slowing his pace. 
“Y/l/n and Lawson, straight into the wall.”
“Is she ok? Is she out of the car?” he asked calmly. 
“Not yet,” he answered grimly. The Prema garage was eerily silent as they watched the stewards struggle to get you out of the car. 
As he came up on sector 3, he saw you. The car was upside down leaning against the barrier, they were putting out the fire. Shit. Shit. Shit.
You and Oscar had been dating for a few months now, and he really liked you. He passed by in horror as he saw that you weren’t out of the car yet. He was getting more and more nervous as the moments went on. He caught sight of Liam. He was out of the car. He beckoned Oscar over and he obliged, letting him hitch a ride back to the pitlane with him as he drove slowly. As they got back to the pitlane, they both jumped out as the race was finally deemed as cancelled, and the boys walked off, waiting for news. 
“What happened?” he asked. 
“It was a total mistake, my car had mad fucking oversteer and I just hit the throttle too hard, and then she was in the wall,” he answered. “She’s not even out yet.”
“She’ll be ok,” Oscar said, trying to convince himself as well as Liam. “She’s strong.”
Liam nodded, and went off to the RedBull garage with his head held low. Oscar walked into the Prema garage and his mom immediately pulled him in for a hug. Beside her was your parents, looking terrified. 
“You’re ok, thank god,” she whispered. She didn’t care about the multiple cameras pointing at them, her son was alright. 
“Is there any news yet?”
“They’ve pulled her out of the car,” your dad answered, eyes glued to the screen. 
“Is she responsive?” Nicole asked. 
“Yes!” You race engineer answered, happy that you were alive. There was a collective sigh of relief throughout the garage. “Complaining about lower back and leg pain, as well as a definite broken arm. She won’t be racing for a while,” he added, his tone becoming more and more sombre. Oscar watched as your mother broke down in your father’s arms, and he felt like throwing up. You wouldn’t be racing, you wouldn’t get to do the thing you loved. 
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Clip 6: Prema video
ASST Brianza - Vimercate Hospital, 18th of July.
You woke up in blinding pain a few hours earlier. Everyone had worked so hard to make everything ok, to make you comfortable, but all night all you did was sob. The pain was unbearable in the car, you thought you were going to die, you thought you weren’t getting out of the car. 5 fractured vertebrae, 3 broken ribs, a fractured hip bone, and a broken arm apparently wasn’t a joke. No racing for the rest of the year. Your life was over. 
“Fuck,” you whispered as you sat up and pain shot up your back. 
“Hey,” Oscar’s soft voice brought you out of your upset, and back into the room. He took your hand. You felt bad, he’d been there the entire time, and honestly, he should probably be at the track already, ahead of today’s race. You’d tried to shoo him but he wasn’t having it, much more in favour of being with you and cluing you in on how your parents reacted to him being your boyfriend. Awkward. “Take your time.”
You nodded, grateful that he was there, then turned your attention to the camera Angelina had brought with her and set up to take a ‘statement’ video. “Hi Prema fans, and my fans. Yesterday was pretty rough, and with a heavy heart I have to tell you that I won’t be able to continue this season in F2. My back was badly damaged yesterday in my collision with Liam, which was a complete accident and not anyone's fault, and I definitely don’t blame Liam. I love racing, and I’ll still be at the majority of the races to support my teammates, and my boyfriend. This is just a very unfortunate event that pulls me out of the game for a while, but I’ll be back. I hope you miss me on track, and just know that I’m alright. Thank you for the support, bye for now, Prema family.”
Oscar wrapped his arms around you and smiled. “I’m the boyfriend,” he added, making you laugh. 
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Clip 7: Prema footage
Jeddah Corniche Circuit, Jeddah, Saudi Arabia, 4th of December
“And Oscar Piastri sees the chequered flag first! Winning a sprint race and the feature race this weekend!” 
You jumped up and down beside Chris, his father, as he came into the pitlane. He was the lead of the championship. He was going to win F2. No doubt about it. 
The past 5 months had been difficult. You’d been back at school for a while, only now cleared to travel again, but you were happy to be back at the tracks. It felt good to watch Oscar win in person. 
Chris wrapped his arms around you as you both celebrated. Oscar’s radio came on. 
“God guys, good drive. Looks like Y/n is my lucky charm,” he laughed over the radio. The last races hadn’t gone so well for him, but he was straight back to winning with you here.  
You were smiling the whole way to the barricade, but that ended when about 50 people were against your back, pushing violently. Chris and Mark were trying desperately to get them to back off, but they couldn’t stop them. You promised them you’d be ok, but the pain was getting unbearable, and Oscar hadn’t come over yet. 
“Guys, move back!” He shouted as he ran over, just finished taking off his helmet. “Make some space!” The team obliged, but he still decided to be dramatic and lift you over the barrier. “You alright?” he asked, but you just wrapped your arms around him.
“You’re incredible Osc,” you smiled. “I love you so much.”
And there it was, out in the open for the first time. Too bad you forgot you both had microphones on. 
He smiled wider than you ever thought possible for his face. “I love you too. So much baby,” he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “You should be up here with me,” he added and you nodded, it still being a sore subject. “And you will be. Next year.”
You nodded, grateful for the hope and support he offered you. “Go! Go to your team!” you laughed, pushing him on. Before he let you out of his grasp, he grabbed your waist and stole a sweet, quick kiss. 
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Clip 8: Prema footage
Yas Marina Circuit, Abu Dhabi, 12th of December 
He’d done it. He was the F2 champion. Sadly next year he would only get to be the Alpine F1 reserve driver, which meant no consistent racing, but that was still incredible. 
You waited by the barricade as he came in, and he went straight over to you. He pulled his helmet off, then his bandana, and pulled you in for a kiss. The rest of the team ‘ohh’ed and ‘aww’ed but neither of you cared at all. He’d won. 
“Congratulations F2 winner,” you smirked, pulling away. 
“Thanks baby,” he smiled. 
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Post-race interview
“So, how does this feel, Oscar?” she asked. 
“It feels amazing, y’know, we’ve all worked so hard at this for the whole year and it’s just really special to have everyone here, especially my girlfriend Y/n. I’m missing her on track, so it’s good to still at least have her in the paddock,” he smiled, and the camera cut to you, beaming up at him.
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Clip 9: Prema footage and Sky Sports channel 
Bahrain International Circuit, Sakhir, 19th of March, Sprint 1. 
“We’re in the Prema garage,” Oscar explained to the camera in front of him. He was in full Alpine gear, being a reserve driver meant being a marketing machine, but this wasn’t for Alpine, this was for you. “And my girlfriend is about to go and do her first race back since the accident last season. Let’s go interview her about it!” He walked through the garage, searching for you, and finally found you. “Y/n! Any time for an interview?”
You turned to him and smiled. “I always have time for you,” you wrapped your arms around him, hugging him close. His grip on you was tight but you didn’t mind. You pulled away and turned to the camera.
“So, how does it feel to be back?” He asked.
“Amazing. I thought my life was over when I was told I wasn’t allowed to race for half a year.”
“And who helped nurse you back to health?” He smirked, batting his eyelashes at you. 
“Your mom mostly,” you chuckled. You’d spent the entire off-season in Australia with Oscar and his family, and Nicole had been so considerate and careful about your healing injuries. 
Oscar rolled his eyes. “Yeah… that’s probably true,” he chuckled. “How do you feel being on Pole?”
“It feels good. We just have to stay quick this season. I didn’t rush my healing just to lose,” you smiled then pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’ve to get in the car now, love you,” you smiled. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pressed his lips to yours with a ‘good luck’, then let you go. 
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“And can she do it? Yes she can! Y/n Y/l/n is coming in with a bang! A Sprint Pole and a Sprint win! That is a statement, ‘I never left’!” 
“That’s P1 Y/n, well done!” Pedro called over the radio as the Prema garage went crazy. 
“Thanks for everything guys, great car, great drive-”
“Great driver,” he added. 
You pulled into the pitlane and got out of the car, celebrating as they got the photo of you on the car. You ran over to Oscar at the barricade as you pulled off your helmet and balaclava.
“That’s my girl!” he cheered as you pulled him in for a hug. “See? Nothing's changed.”
You pressed your lips to his. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” he smiled and pressed his lips to your cheek. “I’m loving this WAG lifestyle,” he chuckled. 
You laughed. “It suits you.”
He chuckled. “Alright, you’re being called for the interview. Love you,” he smiled as you walked off, giving your hand a squeeze. You blew him a kiss back. 
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Clip 10: Prema video 
Prema Headquarters, Grisignano di Zocco, Italy. 
You were laughing with Logan, doing a ‘Who knows who best’ challenge and both of you were failing miserably. 
You put the headphones on and the music started, making it impossible to hear him. You watched as the room erupted in laughter, then Logan nudged you to take the headphones off. 
“What is the most annoying thing about you?” He asked, holding back giggles. 
“I know what you’d say,” you chuckled. “Me and Oscar.”
The room erupted in laughter as he nodded. “Exactly!” 
“You’re just jealous,” you chuckled. 
“Why? ‘Cause I don’t have a girlfriend?”
“No, because I have Oscar and you don’t,” you shot back, and everyone started laughing again. 
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Clip 11: Sky Sports Channel
Yas Marina Circuit, Abu Dhabi, 20th of November 
“And after a season of domination from the woman in red, Y/n  Y/l/n sees the chequered flag first with a staggering 425 points! This F2 season will go down in history!”
You’d done it. You’d done it. You were an F2 champion, and next season you’d be in an F1 car fulltime, racing alongside Oscar, Logan, and Nick. You’d made it. 
You jumped out of the car, amazed at your season. It’d been win after win, fastest lap after fastest lap, pole position after pole position. You’d worked so hard. 
“You did it baby!” Oscar shouted as you ran over. You jumped into his arms, and let him hold you up. He looked at you like you held the sky up, like you were the greatest thing on the planet. “You’re incredible.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” you smiled. “ I love you so much.”
“I love you so much more,” he pressed kisses to any inch of skin he could, more than proud to be yours. 
You chuckled as he tickled you with his kisses, before you realised that you needed to go fulfil your duties. He put you down, but before you could leave, he grabbed your waist again. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Osc.”
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Clip 12: Sky Sports channel, McLaren footage, and RedBull footage
Bahrain International Circuit, Sakhir, 2023. 
“A disappointing result for Oscar Piastri, but an incredible run for Y/n Y/l/n, P1 in her first race! I’m sure he’ll be pleased with that for his long-time girlfriend!” 
 Oscar was pissed off, but his mood was lifted by your result. You were incredible. He cheered in his own garage, happy for your win. You’d won your first race. Who else did that? The first woman to ever do so. 
He was in awe of you. 
He exited his garage, ready to see you after your win. He saw you getting out of the car and running straight into the arms of your team and he smiled. He finally caught your eye after some time, and you ran over, wrapping your arms around him. 
“I’m so sorry,” were the first words out of your mouth. “If I could trade our cars, I would Osc, I really would,” you sighed.
“Don’t even joke about that. Don’t make your first win about me. This is about you, my brilliant, incredible, winner,” he pressed his lips to yours in a short, victory kiss. “I love you, yeah?” “I love you too,” you smiled. 
“You were amazing out there,” he smiled. 
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Clip 13: McLaren video 
Jeddah Corniche Circuit, Jeddah, Saudi Arabia 
“Who is your teammate's favourite person?” Lando asked, then looked at the camera and rolled his eyes. “Oscar’s is Y/n because he’s a traitor.”
Oscar burst into laughter and looked at Lando. “That’s not fair! We started dating as teammates!”
“Oh sure Osc!” Lando sighed, playing up the drama. “That’s what they all say.”
“But it’s the truth!”
“Anyways, moving on from Oscar and his traitor girlfriend, who’s my favourite person Oscar?” 
“Max Fewtrell?” 
Lando thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “Him or my parents or siblings.”
Oscar took another question out of the bowl and chuckled. “What’s the other person’s red flag?”
Little did he know, you’d come in to visit him and were actively sneaking up behind him. 
“Yours is your refusal to ever use a hairbrush,” you answered for Lando, and Oscar jumped, making everyone laugh, especially Lando, who fell off his chair. You chuckled and wrapped your arms around Oscar's neck from behind, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Came to say hi,” you smiled, kissing his cheek. 
“Came to air out my business online?” He questioned, laughing. He took your hands and led you around his chair, sitting you on his lap. “When did you get in?” he asked, resting his head on your shoulder as Lando tried to compose himself. 
“Just now, came straight from the airport,” you nodded, leaning back against him. 
“Bad flight?”
“Nah, I was on Max’s jet. He’s offered me to ask you two if you want to go back to Monaco after this weekend with him. I am,” you answered. He nodded, gently playing with your hands as he listened to you. 
“Sounds good to me,” he smiled. “Tell him ‘thanks’, yeah?” 
You nodded. “‘Course,” you got up to leave but he pulled you down by the arm and pressed your lips together quickly, then let you go. “Love you,” you called after yourself. 
“Love you too,” he called back, ready to get back to the interview. 
“Can we keep that in?” Ellie, their marketing manager asked. 
He shrugged. “Sure, why not.”
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Clip 14: Hattie Piastri’s tiktok vlog
Piastri residence, Melbourne, 2023 
“Y/n’s over there with Oscar, and Addie is with May and mum and dad are with Tim over there,” she explained to the camera pointing everything out. In the video you and Oscar were laying on the grass in the setting sun, utterly exhausted from your weekend of racing where you’d gotten p2 and Oscar had gotten p8. His arms were wrapped around you as you lay on top of him, smiling. 
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Clip 15: Sky Sports channel, RedBull footage and Nicole Piastri’s instagram
Circuit Zandvoort, Zandvoort, Holland
“And can she do it? Yes she can! Y/n Y/l/n beats teammate Max Verstappen to first place, and she sees the chequered flag first! What an incredible season this has been for the rookie!”
As you crossed the finish line, you almost felt sick. You’d beaten Max, giving you a lead in the Driver’s Championship. He’d been 10 points ahead. Now, you were 15 points ahead of him. 
“That’s P1, P1 Y/n congratulations,” Pedro smiled. 
“Thanks Pedro, and thanks everyone, really well done. Car is perfect, thank you all so much!” 
“And Oscar’s P9, if you're wondering.”
“When I get my fucking hands on Zak Brown I will rip his fake fucking toupée off for giving him such a shit car,” You groaned. “Great drive guys, thanks.”
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You walked into the paddock as they all cheered both you and Max on. Max had gotten P2, unhappy with not winning, but not mad that you’d won. He saw what you were doing for motorsports all around the world, how much pressure you were under as the first female driver in a long time, and how hard you were working. He wasn’t going to make your life harder by being an asshole off the track too. He gave you a celebratory hug and moved onto his driver’s room, as you stayed out with the engineers, chatting and celebrating with them. 
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Nicole Piatri’s instagram live 
“Hi everyone, Osc and I are right now, trying to sneak into the RedBull garage to see Y/n,” Nicole explained and behind her, Oscar smiled and put both thumbs up. 
“I’m going to be told off for this by Zak, so, sorry Zak. I want to see my girlfriend, my bad,” he chuckled, his apology only half-assed. 
Nicole and him continued faffing around the paddock for a while, until Nicole caught your eye through the window. You ran over to the door beside them and let them in, pulling Nicole in for a huge hug as Oscar waited behind her with a wide smile. 
He spoke to the live. “Apparently my girlfriend likes my mum better than me-" 
You cut him off with a kiss as you laughed at his antics. “Shut the fuck up,” you chuckled. “You’re such a baby.”
“I missed seeing you in the conference,” he shrugged, holding you close as his mum took the phone and documented this moment between the two of you. “I love you,” he smiled. 
“I love you too,” you chuckled, kissing his cheek. “P9? Not bad.”
He rolled his eyes and smiled. “P1? Not bad,” he lifted you into his arms making you squeal. 
“Osc! Put me down!” You squealed. 
“Let me win next time,” he chuckled. “Then I’ll put you down.”
“What do you want me to do? Switch our cars?”
“Ideally,” he chuckled, kissing your cheek and putting you down. “But I guess I’ll settle for watching you be gorgeous on the podium every week.”
“The fans are loving this!” Christian joked as he watched over Nicole’s shoulder, seeing how the chat was going crazy.
You both turned to Nicole with confused faces. 
“You’re still filming mum?!” 
This live has now been ended by the host. 
---------------------
Clip 16: Sky sports channel
​​Lusail International Circuit, Lusail, Qatar 
“Oscar Piastri has done the job brilliantly, the Australian driver will see the chequered flag first! Oscar Piastri wins the sprint to take McLaren to the top step once again!” 
“That’s P2 Y/n, Oscar P1,” Pedro announced. 
“WOOOOO!” You screamed, elated for him. “Fucking legend!” 
“I said P2 for you,” he reminded. 
“Shut up and be happy for him, just once,” you chuckled, pulling into the pit lane to park. You watched as Oscar got out of the car as you got out of your own car. Immediately, he ran over to you, wrapping you up in his arms as you celebrated together. 
“You did it!” You shouted, jumped around in each other's arms. “You’re fucking incredible.”
“You put up a good fucking fight,” he chuckled, smiling like a kid. 
“You’re going to look so sexy at the top of the podium,” you smirked and he blushed hard. 
“I wish you wouldn’t say stuff like that in public,” he chuckled, then hid his face in your neck as you laughed. 
---------------------
Post-sprint conference 
“So, this is a question for Y/n and Oscar,” an interviewer started. Both of you looked up, exhausted from the late night race. “Does your relationship prohibit you from racing to your full potential? I believe Y/n, you could’ve caught up. Did you give him this win?”
You scoffed, appalled that anyone would have the audacity to ask such a thing. “For fuck’s sake,” you sighed. “No. I couldn’t have. You know how you know that? Because I would’ve if I could’ve. I love Oscar, and I’ve loved him since I was about 14 years old, but that doesn’t mean that I let him win. He’s a ridiculously talented driver, and a fucking genius with strategy. His car is great too. But out there today? That was pure talent. I can love him, and wholeheartedly race him too,” you answered, getting annoyed at the comments like these you two constantly got. “And another thing, I’m getting really fucking sick of the questions about our relationship. Do you really think we’d be together if we couldn’t race each other and not come back to each other and be proud of each other? Seriously? Where is your critical thinking?”
The room was full of whispered conversation as you dropped the last diss, and beside you Oscar was looking at you with huge heart eyes. Anyone could see it from a mile away, he loved you. He chuckled, wanting to add his two cents as well. “Yeah, exactly. The only thing she lets me win in is chess, right?” He looked at you with a smirk and you rolled your eyes. 
“You won once, asshole,” you chuckled, pushing his hand off your thigh. 
“Then we stopped playing,” he shrugged, a cocky smirk very-present on his face. 
“We ran out of time,” you shrugged, feigning innocence. 
He cocked an eyebrow. “Sure.”
The tension in the room had been dissolved in the comedic moment, and you were thankful for Oscar’s calm exterior. You moved closer to him on the couch, and he wrapped an arm around you, smiling wide as you pressed a kiss to his hand, the one closest to your face. 
---------------------
Clip 17: Drive to Survive 
Yas Marina Circuit, Abu Dhabi
“How are you feeling?” Oscar asked, sitting in your driver’s room with you before the race. He knew how worried you were, how much you wanted this. You had to win. You and Max were neck and neck. You just had to get more points than him, starting from P2. 
You sighed, standing between his legs and messing with his hair, favouring trying not to think about it rather than talking about it. He grabbed ahold of your waist and pressed his face into your torso, pressing kisses to wherever he could reach, trying to make you laugh. 
You chuckled and pushed him away, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’m alright, I promise. Just stressed.”
“You won’t be stressed in a week,” he smiled. “We’ll be in Melbourne.”
You smiled, and kissed him again. “We will. Waves and relaxing. Nothing else.”
“Well, and Logan,” he chuckled. “So… ‘Merica and all that,” he smiled as you laughed at his bad joke. He got you down to his lap and he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “You’ve got this, don’t worry.”
“Wow, anxiety cured,” you replied sarcastically, making him laugh. 
---------------------
Clip 18: Sky Sports Channel
Yas Marina Circuit, Abu Dhabi
“And it is an incredible season for the first female in modern F1, Y/n Y/l/n sees the chequered flag first, with a Driver’s Championship 1-2 with her teammate Max Verstappen! This makes her the first female ever to win the F1 Driver’s Championship title! What an inspiration!” 
You’d done it. You won your rookie season. You were World Champion. You were a legend. 
“WOOOOO!” You screamed as tears rolled down beneath your hemet. “We did it! We did it!”
“We did it!” Pedro screamed. You knew the entire RedBull garage was going crazy right now. “You did it Y/n!”
“Thank you, everyone! This would’ve been impossible without you all! Amazing year! Incredible work!” you beamed. 
---------------------
“That’s P6, P6 Oscar,” his race engineer announced. 
“Did Y/n get it? Did she win?” 
“Yes, your girl is a World Champion,” he smiled. 
“YES! YES! THAT’S MY FUCKING GIRL!” he screamed, elated at the news. He knew you could do it. He’d always known you could do it. 
He rushed to get to the pit lane, ready to celebrate with you. He jumped out of the car and pulled off his helmet as fast as he could, watching as you ran over to him. 
“You did it!” He cheered. “My fucking girl.”
“I did it!” You cried, over the moon. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” you smiled. 
His eyes filled with tears as his heart swelled with pride. “You’re amazing. I love you so much Y/n.”
Neither of you cared about the cameras around you as you went in for a kiss. You didn’t care about how sweaty and gross you both were, you didn’t care about the grief that the pr team would give you, you didn’t care. 
You were a World Champion. He was your everything. You were his everything.
---------------------
navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
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hammondcast ¡ 2 years ago
Text
Jon Hammond Announcement On AFN Nu Funk Live
#WATCHMOVIE HERE: Jon Hammond Announcement On AFN Nu Funk Live 
Jon's archive https://archive.org/details/jon-hammond-announcement-on-afn-nu-funk-live 
Youtube https://youtu.be/cVXCEQOHnXE 
FB https://fb.watch/lUwSPgGayc/ 
Instagram https://www.instagram.com/p/Cu4vJy8Lw7Q/ 
Jon Hammond Announcement On AFN Nu Funk Live
by
 Jon Hammond 
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Jon Hammond -- AFM Local 47
AFM - American Federation of Musicians
The awesome musicians and staffers and elected officers of Local 47
Musicians Union totally rock!
#musicians
#musiciansunion
#wages
#workingconditions
#donlombardi
#dwdrums
#americanfederationofmusicians
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 Publication date
 2023-07-19
Usage
 Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 4.0 International
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Topics
 AFN Europe, Radio, Radio Broadcast, Concert, Funk, Frankfurt Headquarters, AM Radio, Hammond Organ, Funky drums, Neumann Tube Microphone
Language
 English
Jon Hammond announcement AFN Radio live concert broadcast AFN Europe Alumni AFN Europe Powerlite Show broadcast in AM on the 872 kHz frequency James Preston drumsBarry Finnerty guitarJon Hammond organJoe Berger engineer#AFNEurope #radio #funk #broadcast
Addeddate
 2023-07-19 17:41:08
Identifier
 jon-hammond-announcement-on-afn-nu-funk-live 
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 Topics
 AFN Europe, Radio, Radio Broadcast, Concert, Funk, Frankfurt Headquarters, AM Radio, Hammond Organ, Funky drums, Neumann Tube Microphone
Language
 English 
Topics, AFN Europe, Radio, Radio Broadcast, Concert, Funk, Frankfurt Headquarters, AM Radio, Hammond Organ, Funky drums, Neumann Tube Microphone, Language English
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limethefirst ¡ 2 months ago
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UGH MY HEART— I READ THE FANFIC YOU WROTE WHERE THE READER REMINDED SHADOW OF MARIA AND IT WAS SO CUTTEE!! Can I request another one with the same concept? Maybe one where the reader gets hurt in some way connected to the movie’s story line, and Shadow’s scares of losing them? Like how he lost Maria!
Not again
pairings: Shadow the Hedgehog x reader [platonic]
warnings: sonic 3 spoilers, mentions of injury, G.U.N shoots a (implied) minor…when don’t they
summary: While trying to infiltrate the G.U.N headquarters, you get caught and are fortunately saved by Shadow after a rough encounterďżź
a/n: this request was challenging for me to think on because I wasn’t sure how to incorporate the reader getting hurt in the story since I didn’t know any moments that made sense but here you go! I’m sorry if it’s not the best but I hope you enjoyed and tysm for supporting my stories!!!
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The plan was simple, Robotnik and Gerald would get in and out, while you would infiltrate the GUN base. Unfortunately life had a way of throwing curve balls at you. As you hid behind a wall, opening your computer to try and deactivate some security protocols a stray guard managed to stumble upon you.
“Hey, you,” the guard somewhat yelled, making you quickly snap your head up from your small laptop. You definitely did not look like you belonged here, you were too young compared to most of the other people here who were in their mid 30s to late 40s, “Let me see your badge,”
Oh no, this was something you didn’t prepare for, you didn’t have a badge, you were stuck here. Quickly thinking you set a small distress signal to Stone from the small laptop still held in your grasp, letting him know of your situation.
Nervously you responded to the guard, “Uh I- uhm forgot my ID back home,” you patted yourself down, pretending to look for an ID that you obviously didn’t have. As you did you slowly put the laptop on the floor.
The guard, clearly not believing you, turned on his radio calling for backup. Your mind was racing, you knew getting caught was not an option so the only thing you could do at this point was run.
“You get back here!” You made a quick glance back, seeing as two other men, with actual guns started to chase after you, their weapons raised to you.
There was no way they’d actually shoot at someone, especially someone actively way younger than them.
Suddenly your arm stung, red began to seep through your fake uniform, oh god they were really shooting at you.
You quickly turned the corner running behind a wall, trying to get away. A small lab was close by, maybe you could hide in there and hope they would pass you by.
The door was open by some miracle; quickly slipping into the dark and empty room you made your way to the desk off by the far right and sat down there, covering your mouth holding back the scream you wanted to let out from the burning bullet wound on your arm. It wasn’t a massive wound, not by any means, it was a graze but it was still a gun shot and it hurt like hell. Tears were threatening to spill from your glossy eyes but the fear of making noise kept them at bay.
You heard the door creak open, light footsteps echoing in the room. They were nearing and you had nowhere to run, surely they wouldn’t kill you, that wasn’t morally right but they shot at you, well you were trespassing on government property so you weren’t sure what they’d do.
You heard a creak to your left; they’d found you. You saw the man reach for the electrical handcuffs but before he had the chance to grab them a sudden flash of red caught you by surprise.
Shadow had found you as well, you watched him take down the three men. He teleported throughout the room, confusing the men. He began to teleport between the men, going from one to the next, landing a hit on each before he did it again.
You sat there, your back against the wall, your breathing was heavy, your eyes wide, fear lacing your every feature.
Once Shadow had finally finished he turned back to you, his stoic and angry gaze quickly falling, his eyes widened as he quickly made his way over to you. He gently but urgently grabbed your bloody arm, his face a mix of anger and fear.
He was normally very neutral, the only thing on his mind revenge, but currently all he sensed was fear. This scene was all too familiar to him, it reminded him of those terrifying moments he had so many years ago.
As Shadow held a tight grip on your arm, the tears that were brimming your eyes had finally fell, you tried to choke the sobs but all the adrenaline had finally wore off. Shadow looked around the room, finding some gauze that he then used to wrap around the wound.
Once he had stopped you could no longer hold yourself back, you quickly grabbed onto Shadows torso as you sat on the cold dirty floor, your face red with tears and snot. Shadow stood still, he was enraged, long ago GUN had taken something he cared about, and once again they tried to take something else.
He slowly let his arms wrap around your shaking figure, he knew how to comfort people, he’d done it with Maria before, but it had been so long.
“It’s okay, you’re safe now,” Shadow quietly comforted, his words didn’t do much but you knew you could trust them. So you just sat there, as Shadow waited, remembering what it was like to care and comfort someone.
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altruisticalastor ¡ 1 year ago
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↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴
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☒ Part One Part Three
☒ Summary: Vox was getting too attached to you. You should have noticed it sooner when he began treating you with more consideration than anyone else. But you assumed it was all an act. You were sorely mistaken. You hoped that Alastor had a plan to get you out of this arrangement. 
☒ Warnings: wife!reader, she/her pronouns used, angst with slight comfort, strong hints of vox being in love with the reader, vox kisses reader on the forehead, alastor and the reader actually kiss and hug, lucifer is silly in this, jealous!alastor, reader expierencing a lot of conflicting emotions, lots of inner turmoil
☒ Word Count: 2,166
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The ride back to Vox Tec Headquarters was quiet. However, Vox held onto you tightly the whole ride home.
Home? Is that what you consider this godforsaken place now? 
You lost your way, and seeing your husband tonight after several years reminded you of what once was your home. 
"Who" your home was; Alastor.
But that resentment you had for him still lingered in your heart. 
It would be a lie if you said you hadn't gotten accustomed to Vox's company. Even now, he helped you out of the car. Holding your hand tightly all the way up to your bedroom. Vox was a gentleman when it came to you. He respected your privacy, turning his back while you changed into something more comfortable. But he was also possessive, and that struck fear within you.
He was soft-spoken while he tucked you into your bed. The same bed that Vox picked out specifically for you. He knew what colors, what patterns, and what textures you liked. Taking it all into account when he bought you your blankets and clothing and accessories.
"How are you feeling, sweetheart?" Vox cooed, rubbing your arm softly. He sat at the side of your bed, eyes locked with yours. You tensed from his touch. The conflict between appreciating his gentle caress and knowing it was wrong to feel that way made guilt pool in your gut. 
"I'm fine," You lied, averting your gaze from his. Vox's touch trailed lower, giving your hand a firm squeeze before he stood. "It's been a long day for you. Try to get some rest." He spoke calmly. Turning his back toward you before making his way to your bedroom door. 
"V-Vox," You called out, stopping him in his tracks before he could take his leave. "Yes, sweetheart?" He turned to face you, offering you a welcoming smile. You balled the duvet up in your hand. The same one the man standing before you hand-picked for you. "Thank you for respecting my wishes today." You whispered before turning on your side. Not wanting to see Vox's expression to your earnest words. 
The room was silent for a few beats. Making you feel as though Vox was seeing right through your lies. Your heart pounded against your ribcage as you squeezed your eyes shut. Hoping that he would either reply or take his leave already. Your train of thought was cut off when you felt a set of lips press against your forehead. Vox's lips. 
"Anything for you, sweetheart." Before you could process the kiss Vox gave you, he was gone. You turned around the moment your bedroom door closed shut. 
Fuck. You were in deep shit. 
Vox was getting too attached to you. You should have noticed it sooner when he began treating you with more consideration than anyone else. But you assumed it was all an act. You were sorely mistaken. 
You hoped that Alastor had a plan to get you out of this arrangement. 
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Alastor paced around his suite, wracking his brain on how to free you of your contract. Being on a leash himself kept him constricted in some ways, but there had to be a loophole. The Radio Demon tried to keep his composure, but knowing that his beloved wife had been confined by Vox, of all people, was unacceptable.
He never thought you would fall prey to someone as pitiful as Vox. But Alastor also knew that his vanishing without a word didn’t leave you with many options. He ached for you, truly. The Radio Demon loved you with everything he had. Even the parts of himself that never saw the light of day. Alastor’s deepest thoughts and emotions were all reserved for you.
“Hey Alastor, you in here?” The door swung open quicker than The Radio Demon could see. Alastor quickly straightened upright, clearing his throat before addressing The Princess of Hell. Who just so happened to barge into his room. “What is it?” Alastor beamed painfully wide as his patience wore thinner by the second. He didn’t have time for Hotel duties at the moment. You were his top priority.
“Sorry to barge in, but... my dad is here! Just wanted to keep you in the loop!” Charlie exited without another word. She sensed an air of malice and wanted no part of it. Alastor was a feared overlord, and she retained a handful of horror stories about The Radio Demon himself.
A lightbulb went off in his head. This was perfect- Lucifer was the answer to breaking your contract with Vox. All he would have to do was get on The King of Hell’s good side. Alastor let his shadows carry him to the foyer, being met by the sight of none other than Lucifer himself. “Uh, Charlie! Who is this?” The short man shot Alastor a pointed look. “Alastor! It’s a pleasure, quite a pleasure indeed!” The Radio Demon shook Lucifer’s hand firmly. Biting back the insults he wanted to utter due to The King of Hell’s stature. Opting to play nice for the sake of your soul.
“Yeah, uh- good to meet you. Anyway, Charlie mentioned something about a tour, so we must be going!” Lucifer’s tone was passive and short. Alastor knew it would take a bit more false kindness to get on his good side. “Oh, allow me! I am the executive producer of this lovely hotel, after all!” Charlie smiled widely, finding it flattering that Alastor cared enough about the hotel to offer his services. Little did she know that he had ulterior motives. “Aww, that’s a great idea! Thank you, Alastor. I’ll leave you both to it!”
Lucifer stuttered as he tried to find the words to protest. But it was too late. Charlie was already enamored in a conversation with Vaggie. “Come along!” Alastor’s smile grew wide as Lucifer treaded behind him. The moment they reached the second floor, Alastor spun around. Meeting Lucifer at eye level. “Let me cut to the chase! I have a favor to ask of you, Luci!” The Radio Demon quipped. “I knew there was something off about you. Well, cmon spit it out. I came here for my daughter! I don't wish to waste my precious time with common demons such as yourself.”
Alastor contemplated biting his tongue off at that moment because the words that threatened to tumble out of his mouth were way beyond foul. But instead, he took a breath, reminding himself of the greater good. “I’m glad you mentioned your darling daughter, Charlie! You see, she and I made a little deal of sorts! I would be willing to forfeit our contract in exchange for another contract being terminated!” The Radio Demon was bluffing, but he was sure the fool would buy it. Lucifer’s chest puffed up in defense. Alastor could see the wheels turning in his head as The King of Hell contemplated the trade. “Lemme guess, you got yourself in a bad contract and need some help getting out of it?” Alastor’s laughter filled the hallway from the remark. Not even Lucifer himself could get Alastor out of his deal, but that was beside the point.
“Oh heavens, no! This is about my wife. She sold her soul to one of the Vees. I need that deal to be reversed! So, do we have a deal?” Alastor outstretched his hand. Hoping that Lucifer would shake it without further delay. “The who now? The Bees? Fine, fine. I don’t really care as long as my Char Char is out of harm's way. You got yourself a deal, Malastor!” Alastor cringed at Lucifer’s lack of awareness. He was truly in his own world. But that worked to The Radio Demon’s advantage. So it didn’t really matter either which way. “Lovely!” With that, the two men shook on it. Sealing their deal. Alastor chuckled under his breath from how easy that had been. Lucifer was a common idiot. No wonder the state of hell was in shambles, he thought.
But with the King of Hell under contract with him, it was only a matter of time until you were back in Alastor’s arms. He would make sure of that.
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A cool gust of wind stirred you awake. It was nearly three in the morning when you heard someone calling for you. The radio static laced Alastor's voice as he spoke your name. Surely you were still dreaming, right? 
"Don't be alarmed, my dear! It's only me." Alastor sat atop your bed. The same way Vox had earlier. His long fingers played with a strand of your hair, pushing it out of your face as he gazed upon you. "How did you get in here?" You nervously whispered. Slowly, you sat upright, grabbing ahold of your husband's face. His cold flesh meshed well against your warm hands. He really was here. 
"I have my ways!" Alastor quipped, leaning forward to capture your lips with his. Your eyelids fluttered shut as you melted against him. Oh, how you missed his touch. Seven years was far too long without him and hurt feelings aside, you loved this man with your entire being. "My love, if you get caught-" You whispered against his lips, but Alastor simply silenced you by stealing another kiss. 
"Nonsense! It's nothing I can't handle! Don't worry your pretty little head, I have an infallible plan to get you out of your contract with Vox." Excitement surged through you from the good news. "Really? That's amazing!" You beamed, wrapping your arms around Alastor's neck. Hugging him as tightly as possible. Your husband relaxed under your touch. Allowing himself to enjoy this long-awaited moment with you.
"I need you to hold out for a bit longer, my dear. Can you do that for me?" Alastor whispered into your shoulder, rubbing soothing circles into the small of your back with the pads of his thumbs. You nodded fervently. Whatever it would take, you would endure. "Yes," You sighed a breath of relief. Freedom was nearly within your reach. It was only a matter of time. Suddenly, a knock at your door pulled you from your thoughts. 
"Sweetheart? Are you awake?" 
Fuck, it was Vox. 
You frantically pulled away from Alastor's embrace. Presenting him with a frightened look. "Go, now!" You nervously hushed, giving him one last kiss before he stood. Alastor's classic grin remained, but his eyes were full of remorse for you. He hated to leave you here like this, but there was no other way. Just a little bit longer. Alastor whispered a small "I love you" before his shadows enveloped him. Whisking The Radio Demon away right in the nick of time.
Moments later, your door swung open. Revealing a worrisome Vox. "Sweetheart, why didn't you answer me?" He quickly made his way to your side. His slender fingers grasped your chin. Vox tilted your head every which way, scanning for any abnormalities. "I-I'm sorry! I had a nightmare... so I was still pretty out of it when I heard your voice." You lied. Trying your hardest to force a smile his way. Vox's expression softened from your confession. 
"You see, this is why I insisted on installing cameras in your room. I would be able to get here sooner at times like this." Vox sighed, pulling you into his chest. His arms enveloped your waist. "No cameras in here, you promised..." You mumbled into his shoulder, wrapping your arms around his frame loosely. If you were entirely unresponsive, Vox would know you were being furtive. So you played your part. Whatever it would take, right?
"I did promise. You're right, sweetheart. But the offer still stands." Vox squeezed you tighter. The embrace bordered the lines of discomfort from how he held onto you. All you could do was nod against him, hoping he would release you sooner rather than later. "I-I know, thank you." It felt like pulling teeth, forcing out those words. Slowly, Vox pulled away. He gently pressed your shoulders down before tucking you back into bed. 
"Try to get some more rest. It's still early, sweetheart. If you have another nightmare, just call out to me. I'll be here." Vox pressed another kiss to your forehead before standing up. He walked over to the chair that resided in the corner of your room. Vox made himself comfortable, gaze never once faltering from you. You squeezed your eyes closed. Forcing yourself to doze off despite the pressure you felt from his watchful gaze. 
Alastor had remained outside your bedroom window. Overhearing your and Vox's entire conversation. His blood was boiling. Is this what you've had to endure for all these years? Alastor clawed at the side of the building right beside your window. His anger was only building the more he replayed the air of discomfort you illuded. Vox made a grave mistake thinking he could win you over.
You were his wife, and he would remind Vox of that fact. It was only a matter of time. 
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tags; @danveration @celestial-vomit @jyoongim @stygianoir @polytheatrix @mmik3yy @littlebullofblythe @cxrsedwxrlds @lillithhearts @nogiggleonlybitter @minniemumbles @chewbrry @lbcreations-blog @nonetheartist @call-me-nyxx @zombiesnips-blog @stawberrypimpsimp @wonderlandangelsposts
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hazbinhazmeinachokehold ¡ 11 months ago
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Overlords + child overlord reader
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!!!Not proofread!
Alastor: “They're filled with potential that I could guide!” Yeah, he’d try to recruit you. Listen while I know this probably would never happen I think it would be funny if he actually started seeing you as his kid. Like this man did not think of even slightly liking you, but here you are as his kid. Anywho- He would trust you to go out by yourself. I mean you're literally an overlord. But you're also a kid who is seen as weak and an easy target. While you usually deal with it, you have been hit a few times. Since you’ve become his kid his Radio show is never running low on screams. You make fun of Vox together at meetings.
Rosie: Do you want a new mom? Yes? Well, you’re in luck! No? Too bad! Either way, you’re adopted now, congrats. Maybe not legally but it’s hard to tell the difference with you too. Very impressed with how powerful you are at such a young age. A wee bit worried but still you’re powerful. Just tell her if someone does land a hit on you though, depending on her mood she might get a new meal. If need advice on anything, especially being an overlord, she’ll happily comply. Also, she will let you sit on her lap at meetings. 
Vox: fucking Ipad baby  For the most part he wouldn’t pay any mind to you tbh. But if you openly hate Alastor? There is a new member of the vees I’ll tell you that much. Even if your name does start with a v. You only really run into him on the street and in meetings though. Your ass is not going into the headquarters (or whatever it's called) because of a certain, as Velvette would say, piss baby. You're getting the latest technology. Whether you want it or not is irrelevant. 
Velvette: Girlie (gender neutral) if you are on her good side you are spoiled. But you do have to get rid of ¾ of your closet. But you also get new clothes so you win some, you lose a few hundred. You are allowed into the v headquarters but only for short periods of time and in her area only. I would compare you to a sassy rich lady and her poodle. Carmilla: Listen I’m going to keep it real with you she does not want you to be an overlord. Like even if you guys don’t get along you’re still a child. Keeps a close eye on you. Anyway, she has three kids now. She’s leading the meeting while you're just sitting on her shoulders. No one dares mention it because they don’t want to find out if she’ll put her weapons to use. Very good life advice, it rivals Rosie’s.  If were to get adopted by any overlord she’d be the best pick.
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folkloresthings ¡ 6 months ago
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Hello darling I have a request from prompt ‘we were supposed to be just friends’. Lando x fem!reader, she work as legal for McLaren, they met at the McLaren technology center, and from the begging they had this special bond. During a party in a disco in uk with his friends, he stay very close to her and try to kiss her. After a sec of confusion, they kissing each other.
❛ ARE WE STILL FRIENDS? ❜ ❨ lando norris x reader ❩
where lando has loved the mclaren legal officer from the second he set eyes on her and has finally decided to do something about it.
eight months out of university and working in a coffee shop was not exactly how you had pictured your life post-graduation. you had a law degree from one of the best schools in england, but all it was doing was gathering dust on a frame in your living room. nights were spent in front of the television, only half paying attention, with your laptop screen lit up with job postings. it was like the four years of knowledge was itching to be used, instead of idle hands pouring overpriced iced lattes.
admittedly, you didn't remember applying for the job at mclaren. you were so desperate that you had sent your resume to every posting you could find, barely sparing a second glance at the job summary. it was only when they emailed with an interview date did you do your research. they were a formula one team, and a pretty good one at that. the sport had never much been your thing so you hadn't a clue what kind of work you'd be doing.
but it was work. legal work.
the interview went smoothly, then the second, and the third. they seemed to love you and your education. thankfully the internships you had done during university made up for your lack of experience. they hired you and had you come up to headquarters the next day. the drive from london to woking was full of jitters, turning your radio up to block out the nervous thoughts.
"ah, y/n! welcome to the mclaren technology centre." zak brown was the one to greet you by the front desk, with a smile and a firm handshake. you had spoken during your last interview, the final hurdle with the boss, and thankfully you got along fine. despite your age and greenness in the legal world, zak admitted he saw potential in you. they had gone through six other employees in the past two years for this position, all much older and more experienced. they needed a change.
"this is where you'll be working when you're in-office," zak explained, leading the way through a tour of the centre. it was much bigger than you expected, so modern and open. yeah, you could picture yourself here. "we usually would have you here one or two days a week, the others you can work from home. is that okay?"
"that's perfect," you agree, nodding happily. "i live in london, so the drive is only about an hour."
zak grins, continuing the tour and filling each space with small talk; your education, upbringing, hobbies. he only laughed when you sheepishly told him you knew very little about formula one, and didn't have a huge interest in the sport.
"you'd be surprised how many people here don't watch it," he chuckled, his american accent strange in the midst of the english countryside. "ah, speaking of. boys!"
in the foyer, at the end of the hall, two heads whip around at zak's call. both in the mclaren colours, one was thinner and smiling crookedly. the other, well. he was...
"lando, oscar, i want you to meet y/n. she's our new internal legal officer," zak explained. "meaning if you fuck up in any way, she'll have to deal with it."
the three men laugh, bringing your own bashful smile to wake.
"hi, i'm oscar," the thinner boy speaks in a soft australian accent, shaking your hand. "but it's lando here that you'll have to keep an eye on. i'm always on my best behaviour."
lando. he'd been staring at you since zak dragged you over to them, barely blinking despite for the odd laugh. he blushes then, gently nudging oscar with his elbow. he meets your eyes and his mouth goes dry, lips parting like a fish out of water as he tries desperately to think of something witty to say.
"don't worry, if you don't do anything wrong then i won't have anything to do," you jest, breaking the silence. a grin pulls at your mouth with the words, soon mirrored by the two drivers.
"i think i'd rather you didn't, then," zak scoffs, patting your shoulder. "go get settled, i'll come check on you in a while. boys, we've got that meeting in ten — c'mon."
smiling gratefully, you nod towards zak as he leaves — a silent thank you for his hospitality. oscar waves shyly, turning on his heel to hurry after his boss. lando follows suit, just about pulling his eyes from you, but only makes it a few steps before he's turning back.
"it was, uh, nice to meet you," he murmurs, clearing his throat. "hopefully i'll see you around."
biting at your cheek, holding back a small laugh, you nod. "hopefully."
lando finds himself grinning, walking a few yards backwards just to spare another minute looking at you. oscar calls for him and forces the teammate to hurry, shoes scuffing against polished tile as he catches up.
"stare much?" oscar asks him once they're side by side, a knowing smirk twisting upward.
"shut up," lando mumbles, but his own smile flickers. "she's pretty."
after that day, lando and you became close friends. he would sneak upstairs from briefings to bring you a coffee ("extra caramel, of course") and hide out in your office. he would vent to you about changes zak was, or wasn't, making with the car. you would confide in his about particularly stressful cases you would get handed. on days you weren't in the office, lando would text you pictures of him and oscar bored in meetings.
but the worst was race weekends. very rarely did you go along with the rest of the team, as there was little need for you there. if something went wrong, you could fix it from your desk in england. lando sent you updates from each city, everything from the track to sightseeings. you would often reply with a picture of your rainy window in central london and a sad face. and each sunday, you would sit up and watch the race with your fingers crossed. no matter the time, you were there. and when a race went particularly bad, you would wait up for the phone call from lando, needing a shoulder to lean on.
the staff at mclaren began saying you two were joined at the hip, partners in crime, so often not seen without the other. the best of friends.
"hey," lando chirped, knuckles rapping on your office door one friday morning. he had two coffees in his hand, as usual, perching both them and himself on top of your desk. "you going to the office party tonight?"
"open bar, free cocktails, seeing mark from marketing drunk?" you hummed thoughtfully, sipping at the hot drink. "you bet i am."
lando laughs, head thrown back slightly. the knowledge that you'll be there relaxes him, actually letting him look forward to the mandatory night out. "okay, good. i'll see you then."
"see you tonight," you call after him, watching until he disappears around the nearest corner. luckily, zak lets everyone go an hour early in account for the party starting at eight. you hurry home, sorting through every outfit option and getting ready as quickly as you can. the club was on the other side of london, at least forty minutes on the train, hence your rushing out the door with only one heel buckled.
inside of the club, completely booked out by zak for the company's pleasure, you realised just how many people worked in the world that was mclaren. legal was such a small part of it, a tiny cog in the whole machine. it was quite overwhelming, if it wasn't for the fact that you knew so many of the faces.
"y/n, hey!" the familiar sydney accent pulls your eyes to the nearby bar. oscar waves you over, smiling as you weave your way into a hug. "this is lily, my girlfriend."
you recognised the girl from pictures, but she was even prettier in real life. you exchange bright hello's, hugging in greeting while oscar orders you both some drinks.
"it's so nice to finally meet you!" lily beams, tucking her hair behind her ears. "i've heard so much."
curiosity peaks you, head tilted ever so slightly. "you have?"
"yeah, of course. lando is always—"
her words are cut short by a wide-eyed oscar, shoving in between you both to give you your drinks. "ha, hey! let's go sit, hm?"
your brows furrow, only more confused when lily shoots you an apologetic look. she takes your hand to lead you through the crowd to a booth at the other wall. amongst a few individuals you vaguely recognise, lando sits sipping a beer. he looks up when he hears oscar greet them, but his eyes instantly shoot to you.
"jesus," he mutters, quiet enough that only max next to him hears. you look absolutely stunning, your figure newly shown off by the little dress you have on. it falls to about mid-thigh, the rest of your legs accentuated by the heels you had on. your hair and makeup has been done a bit more than it would for work, and the sight has lando's stomach churning.
you squeeze in next to lily, across the table from lando. he can't tear his eyes away from you, even when max tries to strike up conversation. all you're doing is talking to lily, leaning over into each other to hear properly, face lighting up every so often with a laugh.
"so, that's who's had you so distracted recently?" max eventually catches lando's attention, watching his best friend's eyes widen. "she's pretty."
pretty? lando though. she was gorgeous.
"we're just friends," lando explains, shaking his head.
"bro, you've been staring at her like she's the only person in the room for the last twenty minutes," max laughs airily, nudging him. lando scoffs and rolls his eyes, but doesn't deny the fact. after another moment, you catch his gaze and smile softly. lando blushes, lifting his hand to wave slightly.
"okay, let's dance! this is my favourite song," max suddenly exclaims, standing up with a slap to the tabletop. a few follow suit, and you turn to lily with raised brows.
"oh, no," she shakes her head with a giggle. "i need at least two more of these drinks before you get me up there."
"well, drink up. i'll save you a dance."
smiling sweetly, you slip off of the seat to give her attention back to oscar. lando stands at the same time, smiling playfully when he looks at you. a hand of his stretches out and you can't even fathom denying it, slipping palm to palm and letting him drag you to the middle of the dance floor.
the song is drake or the weekend, something you don't really know, but the beat is so loud that you can feel it in the floor beneath you. falling into a rhythm, you giggle as lando begins moving with you. he sings along, but you don't recognise the lyrics, only the movement of his lips as his eyes shut. your chest thumps in time with the music, the heat of the people around you creeping onto your bare skin. the music mixes, changing into a melody you instantly know.
"i love this song!" you squeal, grasping lando's arms to shake them in excitement. he chuckles, watching on in admiration as you begin dancing again, reciting every single word to abba's lay all your love on me. your hands sneak down from his arms to his hands, forcing him to move along with you. he spins you around again and again just to watch your hair and dress float around you like magic, the lights of the club basking you in a heavenly hue.
somewhere in the midst of the second verse and chorus, lando feels his judgement cloud. he'd like to blame it on the beer, but he had only drank one, and he knew it was that usual intoxicating presence you carried around everywhere. your lips mould around each lyric, having listened to the song so many times (and your endless summer rewatches of mamma mia, as you once told him) that it was engraved on your memory. you looked perfect, the same as every day he snuck glances at you in the office or scrolled through your instagram late at night when he couldn't sleep for thinking about you.
you were it, for him. everything he loved and dreamed of, the only thing that had kept his feet on the ground this past season. and here you were, chest pressed to his thanks to the swarm of drunken guests, so close that he could smell your perfume and the shampoo from your hair. you had used a darker lipstick tonight, he noticed, unlike the usual clear balm you wore at work. it made you lips look even more soft than they normally do - he knew, because he spent a hefty chunk of his day staring at them.
abba fades out, along with the loud and out of tune singing filling the club, and all lando can think about is kissing you. it wouldn't be fair, for such pretty lips to go unkissed. and it wouldn't be fair on him, who has spent hours on end imagining how kissing you might feel, to let such an opportunity slip away from him.
so, he's tightening the hands that are already on your waist to pull you even closer, until there's not an inch of space left between you. his lips around rough, unmoving as they press against yours, eyes screwed shut and cursing the long seconds as he waits for your mouth to respond. eventually, he peeks through hesitant eyes to meet your surprise. your lips, colour smudged a little now from the contact, are parted and your eyes are wide. he can't discern what you're thinking, but he would bet it wasn't pure elation.
blame it on the beer, blame it on the beer, blame it on the beer.
his mouth opens just as all of his senses wire back in again, the end notes of the song just ringing out when he begins making his excuse. but your surprise and panic fills you so much that you can't breathe here, not with so many people around and lando's body heat still so close. stumbling, you push past him and everyone else that you meet to escape the busyness. the neon exit sign beckons you to the fire door, gasping when it opens and the fresh night air hits you.
thankfully, there isn't a soul to watch you and your flushed cheeks struggling for breath, and you wait until you hear the door shut behind you to fully relax again, frankly not caring if you lock yourself out. but the click of the lock doesn't come, only a familiar sound that crumbles you again.
"y/n—"
lando stands helpless in the doorway, eyes pleading for forgiveness when you turn to him. your head shakes, searching for something to say.
"i... you, what—” you struggle to grasp the right words, eyes squeezing shut. "i thought we were just friends?"
"we were! we are," lando corrects you quickly, striding towards you. "but that doesn't change the fact that i—"
"lan, please don't."
"— love you, y/n. i've been in love with you since your first day at work. how couldn't i be?"
his voice is smaller than you've ever heard it before, urging guilt into your throat until you have to swallow it back down. you make yourself look down at the ground, your heels and his sneakers facing each other, because you know you'll fall apart once you see those damned brown eyes.
"lando..." you murmur through a sigh.
"don't you feel it too?" he asks, desperately grabbing at your clammy hands. "us, me and you. it's right there."
you cave then, heart taking over from your mind, chin raised to look at him. lips turn into a frown, searching his lovelorn eyes for the moment he'll laugh and tell you its all a big joke. because he's lando, and you're just you.
"tell me that you don't, that there's nothing here," lando mumbles lower, gripping your fingers for dear life. "tell me this isn't real and i'll walk away. but — but i can't leave you if there's a chance."
your lips part with a breath, lips dry, and your sense screams at you to tell him no. that it'll never work, it's impossible. but something tugs in your chest and you realise something you had never wanted to admit to yourself: you loved lando norris.
"it'll be too complicated." you settle for excuses instead, chewing the inside of your cheek, wincing when you nick the flesh. "we have to work together, so if something happens then it'll mess everything up."
lando steadies your shaking head with his hands, one on each cheek, staring deep into your eyes. "what are you so scared of?"
you swallow, shoulders raising with each shallow breath. "i don't want to lose you. you're my best friend, the only person i can talk to. i don't want to mess that up."
your confession melts his heart, affection bringing his thumbs to graze across your cheeks. "i won't let that happen," lando promises, tongue sincere as can be.
you wait a moment, scouring his features before the trust solidifies. gently, tentatively, you search for the taste you barely got inside of the club, lips ghosting together. strawberry and beer mix on your tongues, hands wandering over body heat and mouths hungrily moving together like two teenagers in a back alley. only when breathless does lando fall from your lips, hands still steady on the round hips of your dress, keeping you close.
"i'll always be your best friend," he whispers like an oath, a boyish smile tugging at the corner of his swollen and lipstick-covered mouth. "but can we be best friends who do that, like, a lot?"
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writer's note: wrote this in one sitting and may have gotten carried away but pls enjoy <3
609 notes ¡ View notes
keferon ¡ 2 months ago
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Swerve had thought just getting to interact with Blurr, even just once, would be a dream.  Now…maybe this is waking up.
(Set during Blurr chapter 1)
----------------------
Blurr's presence is infectious, Swerve realizes.  Inside mecha headquarters, the fact that he was joining the mech program had been all anyone could talk about the first few days after it was announced. 
Now though – now the man is only mentioned when absolutely necessary.  No one seems to have much positive to say about their actual interactions with Blurr and so no one is sure they should say anything at all. 
Autographs and pictures from those early meetings are slowly being filed away.  Disappearing from office desks or hidden discretely behind work files and supplies.  The primary sign left of Blurr's new status is in official company memos, announcements, and promotional posters that line the halls.
But the level of attention needed to avoid discussing Blurr in detail means that everything still comes back to revolving around him in the end.  His mere presence in the office has changed the dynamics of mecha irreversibly – influencing even the most casual conversations. 
Don't make everything about Blurr.  Don't talk too much about the impossibility of Blurr's mech.  Don't admit that Swerve is still a little in awe every time he interacts with the man himself.  And definitely don't admit that it hurts that Blurr doesn't seem to care, doesn't know any of their names – doesn't know Swerve's name. 
Swerve is constantly reminding himself of these points.  He wonders whether his colleagues have to do the same, or whether it's just him that can't help but think about the man's presence.  He doesn't know which would be better or worse.  
Swerve isn't sure either whether what's happening inside mecha is better or worse than what's happening in the world outside mecha.  Blurr had already been a global phenomenon – with his own branding and merchandise and crowds of fans (a crowd Swerve had once been proud to be a member of).  Swerve had thought Blurr's presence couldn't get any bigger.
Now, he realizes it can. Blurr is everywhere.  His face stares at Swerve from every street corner and shop window as Swerve drives away from the office.  That polished white smile, gleaming eyes, and perfectly windswept hair is plastered across every billboard Swerve passes.  Every advertisement Swerve hears on the radio seems to involve Blurr in some capacity or another, from Blurr's recommended driving tires to his favorite brand of shirts to…. Swerve shuts off the radio.
Even in the store just trying to do his regular shopping for the week, Swerve can't get away from the man.  He catches himself nearly breaking down laughing in the toothpaste aisle as three different brands with five different formulations each advertise that theirs is the secret behind achieving a smile as perfect as Blurr's.
The sheer ridiculousness of it hits him in full force and overwhelms him.  Because how can they all be Blurr's toothpaste?  How could anyone possibly believe that?
Swerve had believed it once.  The thought sickens him.  The commercialism of it all is sickening.  It leaves a bad taste in his mouth – like he's swallowed something so artificially sweet that it tastes bitter and wrong at the end.  Suddenly, his shopping no longer matters.  All that matters is getting out of here.  Getting away from Blurr's presence everywhere, overshadowing every aspect of his life.
But even when Swerve gets home, Blurr's face stares back at him from old racing posters on the wall.  From Swerve's favorite coffee mug sitting on the counter.  From the action figures carefully place on display shelves.  Swerve had thought just getting to interact with Blurr, even just once, would be a dream.  Now…maybe this is waking up.
Swerve tears the posters from the walls.  Takes the mug off the counter.  Holding it in his hands, part of him is tempted to drop it – see the image of Blurr shatter the same way Swerve's perception of him has.  He can't quite bring himself to do it.
Swerve places the mug in the cabinet, pushing it all the way to the back wall so that it's hidden behind his other dishes.  He gets a box out of the closet and throws the action figures in it.  Drops the torn posters on top.  Swerve spends the next hour scouring the apartment for anything Blurr related.  Shirts.  Running shoes.  The list of merchandise – once a proud collection – becomes an ever growing pile of shame.
When he's finally done, Swerve feels drained, exhausted.  He wipes sweat from his forehead and prepares to pack it all away.  Swerve hesitates for a moment, then turns away from the box and back to his kitchen.  He roots through the cabinet until he finds the mug, pulls it out, and adds it to the pile in the box.
Before he can have any second thoughts, Swerve folds the top down on the box and shoves it aside – hidden in the shadows of a corner, innocuous.  He stands in the middle of his place and takes in the bare walls and empty shelves – plain, boring, lifeless.  But all traces of Blurr and his personality are gone from the space.
Not that it matters.  Blurr's personality is infectious.  And it infected Swerve long before the physical evidence manifested.  Removing that evidence has left nothing but a Blurr shaped hole in Swerve's life. 
Blurr's presence in Swerve's thoughts remains – glaringly obvious as the void between them in real-life. 
The way Swerve feels about the man – the conflict between image and reality, between what Swerve wants to believe and what he knows to be true – remains.
THE WRITING STYLE IS SO TASTY I WANNA SPREAD IT ON MY BREAD HELP
ALSO "Not that it matters.  Blurr's personality is infectious.  And it infected Swerve long before the physical evidence manifested.  Removing that evidence has left nothing but a Blurr shaped hole in Swerve's life. " ThiS GODDAMN MOMENT
Anon you are driving me insane anon. I was already spending a lot of hours rotating these guys in my brain and now I gotta spin them faster because of you and I mean it in the most positive way possible
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jyoongim ¡ 10 months ago
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i saw this one story of urs where it was alastor and vox sister reader, and im OBSESSEDDDD I LOVE UR STORIES!!
im obsessed with the trope of two rivals then one courts the others family member, its so good!! so, in honor of my love for this trope..
alastor rearranging the readers guts and broadcasting it for all of hell to hear, including vox. OR, even better, using vox’s own technology to broadcast it for all of hell to WATCH! i want the reader crying, glitching out and begging from overstimulation, and possibly even overheating from it. and maybe a bit of praise and degradation? pretty please? :3
your new anon, pixie 🤍🌸
Warnings: Vox!Sister!Reader x Alastor, in love with the enemy trope, Smut! Overstimulation, begging, praise/degradation, slight humiliation, taunting
Think of reader like a humanoid robot
——————————————————————————————-
Vox had always made sure that you stayed clear of Alastor.
He didnt want the Radio head anywhere near you.
You were his little sister and he would be damned if that old-timely prick got his hands on you.You felt bad for your brother, he was trying to protect you after all, but you were a big girl and could handle your own affairs.
Vox had warned you against getting close to the Radio Demon multiple times, and while at first you listened, Alastor had found you quite interesting. Being Vox’s sister was just a bonus, he liked seeing Vox growl in disapproval or take you away from the red demon’s prying eyes. 
Alastor had been making Vox’s life feel like a whirlpool with the constant close proximity he had with you and then turning around to belittle him for all of Hell to hear.
But you liked the attention the red demon gave you.
It was the first time in satan knows how long, that someone wasn’t terrified of Vox and his influence and you could just feel appreciated.
Alastor was a gentleman. He took the time to get to know you and after a while you accepted his advances.
You didnt have the heart to tell Vox.
I mean what would you tell him?
’oh yea by the way! I’ve been seeing Alastor behind your back even though I know you hate his guts’
You really wanted him to at least tolerate Alastor as your partner.
”What’s on your mind doll?” a rough low voice said, making you blink out of your headspace.
Alastor tilted his head as you smiled ”oh its nothing. Just wished that my brother didnt hate you. You’re not as bad as he says you are”
Alastor chuckled. The two of you had been seeing each other behind the Televison’s back and it gave Alastor so much joy of the thrill knowing you fancied him enough to go against your brother.
He rubbed your thighs reassuringly as he pressed a soft kiss to your pouty lips. “Oh really?” He smirked.
You shook your head, not wanting to think about it anymore. To shift the mood, you tangled your fingers in his fluffy locks, pulling him back to your mouth.
The two of you were in his radio tower for a late night rendezvous.
Vox would blow a fuse if he knew you had snuck out of headquarters to see the red demon.
You pressed your body against his, grinding your hips against the hard bump in Alastor’s pants. You smirked against his lips “aww you missed me that much?” Alastor growled lowly as he dug his claws in your soft skin.
Most secret nights were spent having intense make out sessions and heavy petting.
But you wanted to go further, it was always Alastor who stopped before the two of you could go any further.
You slipped from his lap, to situate yourself between his thighs. Your hands fumbled with his belt and right when your fingers pulled at the band of his boxers, Alastor stopped you.
”I think its quite late to indulge in such activities dearest”
You pouted up at him, eyes swirling up at him “I just want to make you feel good too…don’t you want to fuck me Al?”
You nuzzled your nose against his erection, purring “I don’t know when Vox’ll let me out again” 
How he resist when you looked so cute peppering kisses to his cock?
He let out a groan and when he didnt protest any further, you pulled until his cock sprang from its confines and slapped against your lips.
You took ahold of the girthy length and stroked it a few times before wrapping your lips around the tip.
Alastor sighed as you swirled your tongue on the tip of his cock, giving it kitten licks before taking him whole.
You bobbed your head happily, sending vibrations along his length as you sucked.
A hand wrapped in your hair,pushing you further down until you gurgled around him.
Alastor’s cock twitched in your throat as he looked down at you.
Oh what a pretty thing you were…
He snatched you off him, ignoring your whine when he pulled you back into his lap. He grinned at you. You were buzzing, skin flushed. He pulled you close to his face “seems you’ve convinced me enough to indulge you my dear”
A hand made its way under your dress, toying with your panties.
”To think your brother thinks he can keep you away from me” he chuckled as a finger caressed your puffy clit. You let out a low gasp, leaning into him as he played with your pussy.
You jolted when a finger slid into your warm heat, curling along your gummy walls. You mewled in his shoulder, grinding into his hand. Alastor grinned as your sticky slick dripped onto his hand, adding a second finger, he curled them into your walls, stretching you out.
His lips pressed into your exposed shoulder, sharp teeth nipping ”you’ll be a good girl for me wont you doll?” You nodded and gasped as he slipped his fingers out of you and picked you up to lay you across his control panel.
He grinned above you as he pulled at your dress. Your full tits spilled, nipples perking as they were exposed to the cool air.
You threw your head back as he pinched and twisted the peaks, letting out a ragged moan when his hot mouth enveloped the mound, switching between the two, sucking on your nipples like a babe seeking milk
“Ooh-Ah” you sighed when he tugged a nipple with his teeth.
Alastor grinded his cock against your smoldering heat, coating him in your essence.
His lips released your tit and trailed up to litter your collarbone and neck in kisses. You blinked when his face appeared in your vision.
You gave him a soft smile and hooked your legs around his waist.
You were tingling with excitement. The buttons on his control panel dug into your back, but you were focused on the demon looming over you.
”I fear your brother will be furious if he discovered our treachery” 
He was givin you one last chance to change your mind, but at this moment all you wanted was the pleasure that he could grant you.
So you threw caution to the wind
You angled your hips so his cock catch your clit, pulling him by his collar 
“Fuck Vox”
He grinned and when he slotted his lips against yours, he thrusted into you, swallowing your groan as he stretched your cunt.
Unbeknownst to you, Alastor had turned his radio frequency on.
You were unaware that he was now broadcasting his defilement of you. 
Voxtech’s pampered princess.
”A-Ala..Oh fuck!” You moaned in his neck as he filled you.
Alastor groaned in your ear “you take me so well darlin hehe i knew you would” bottoming out til his balls rested on the curve of your ass.
Your face was buried in his neck, body tingling as your systems ran haywire.
But when he pulled his hips back and pushed again and again and again you couldn’t stop the airy gasps that left your throat.
Your cunt clenched around his cock as he buried himself in you, soft grunts rattling in his throat as he pushed your hips deeper into the control panel. You were sure you’ll have the marks afterwards from how hard he was pummeling into you but that was a matter to be concerned with later.
A hand wrapped around your locks, pulling your face from his neck to look at him. Your lip was caught between your teeth, trying to contain the depraved sounds that bubbled in your chest. Your face was flushed and your eyes were blown.
Alastor peppered your heated face with kisses, whispering perverted nothings against your skin as he rutted up into you.
”Seven hells this cunt is perfect fuck! you look so pretty doll. My pretty girl. This what you wanted isn’t it? Hmm? You wanted me to take you didnt you doll?”
High pitch whines left your throat as his pace quickened.
”A-Al p-please oh fuck oh fuck I’m gonna ah!” Your cunt gushed and squeezed as your orgasm wrecked through your system.
Alastor sneered in your face, eyes narrowed as your face contorted in pleasure “That’s right doll cum on my cock. That’s a good girl. Such a good little slut”
You let out a cry as your systems buzzed as you creamed his cock.
You slumped against his chest, panting as your body shook.
”oh sweetheart I’m not done with you”
Vox was fuming.
How dare that insufferable loser take over his systems!
He was trying to gain control over the frequencies when he froze at the sound of your voice.
No
”Alastor oh fuck!” Your voice ranged out on the monitors.
No No No No NO!
FUCK NO!
Vox watched in horror as his baby sister cried out in ecstasy.
”Sir the channels are blocked how would you like me-”
”GET THE FUCK OUT!” He roared.
Vox sat in his chair and plugged various cables into his import.
He would be damned if anyone else saw you in such a disgraceful state. He checked every monitor in the city and shut the system down. He limited it to only Voxtech headquarters.
”that’s a good little slut”
Vox growled as the systems glitched and became distorted.
”P-please please please! Al no more” tears streamed down your face as blue sparks flew from your systems.
Your legs trembled as the red demon pounded into you.
Your body jolted against his control panel as your claws ripped through the metal.
”You can take a little more can’t you doll?” Alastor asked as he worked you through another orgasm.
Your body was covered in sweat and your systems were working overtime to prevent you from overheating.
Alastor’s cock twitched as your core heated up. It was like being surrounded by molten goo. Your cum was dripping down your legs and coating his length.
You cried out as his cock get that sweet spot inside you, the sound of your cunt squelching and his skin hitting yours radiated through the room.
”I wonder how far I can push your systems dear. Youve got such a pretty pussy, wonder how much of my cum you can take”
Every word had you clenching around him.
”Allllllll” you whined as your system started to glitch, a warning ding ringing in your head.
”You like me ruining you don’t you doll? What would your dear brother say if he saw you taking the cock of the radio demon? I can’t wait to see the look on his face when I send you back to him filled with my cum, oooh yes would you like that pretty doll? To go back home stuffed with my cum hmmm?”
”too m-uch oh fuck fuck fuck Al! Ah! Please please I t-think I’m-I’m gonna OH!” Your body seized as you glitched out, sparks flying and the lights on the control panel flickered as Alastor tore your orgasm from you. A cry ripped for your lips as your eyes dimmed, systems shutting down as you milked his cock, pulling his own orgasm from him.
Alastor came with a growl as he painted your heated walls white, humming in satisfaction when your body went limp and a soft beeping came from you.
With a squish, he pulled his cock out of you and watched as his cum dripped out of you. 
He watched as you slid from the panel and into a heap on the floor. Your body convulsed and twitched as your eyes glowed on and off, a soft static coming from you. He hummed and grinned as Vox appeared across your eyes.
”Hello old pal enjoy the show? Hope you don’t mind the little dear coming home late she’s a bite worst for wares.” 
Bright sparks flew from you as Vox tried to boot your systems back up.
”YOU FUCKING PRICK! I SWEAR I WILL KILL YOU!” Vox growled.
Alastor chuckled, before pulling your limp body to him. He angled your head so Vox could see him clearly and rested his head on your ass. He grinned when electricity ran through you, a protective measure no doubt, he leaned down to your used cunt and placed a soft kiss to your cunt, sucking it into his mouth. 
Vox smashed his control panel and cursed when your systems sent a report of the mess you were.
“Hehe until next time old friend” Alastor crackled as he took over your systems, blocking Vox from having any access.
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thislovintime ¡ 2 years ago
Video
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Via Historic Films, Peter Tork performing “Seeger’s Theme” at the Speakeasy in Greenwich Village, early 1980s (dated 1982 on the Historic Films website).
“I wanted to record the cut [’Seeger’s Theme‘] because I always thought that the piece had a lot of rhythm, and I hoped to display it. I keep trying.” - Peter Tork, The Birds, The Bees & The Monkees box set
“[When I was about 14] I asked for a banjo, and they went out, my folks went out and bought me a little tiny, dinky five-string banjo. And Pete Seeger’s book, How To Play the Five-String Banjo, I think I bought that myself, and learned how to play from that. Nobody said, ‘Here, take a banjo,’ or, ‘Gee, you’d be good at it,’ or anything like that. I just wanted to play it.” - Peter Tork, Headquarters radio, 1989
“I’m a great admirer of Pete Seeger." - Peter Tork, Disc and Music Echo, January 13, 1968
“��When I was a kid, before the Monkees, I was not primarily a rock and roller,’ said Tork during a 1998 interview. ‘I was primarily an acoustic folkie. For us, as acoustic folkies, the politics were very clear. We were strongly liberal, in the Pete Seeger mold. We certainly had a strong sense of right and wrong, and we certainly believed a lot that was wrong with society was the fault of the moneyed class. I think all of us to some extent believed ourselves to be socialists.’" - We all want to change the world: Rock and politics from Elvis to Eminem (2003) (x)
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ririsasaki ¡ 3 months ago
Text
Spilled Secrets
Loki x Reader Fluff
Summary: You secretly like Loki, but you’re kind of upset he doesn’t know… until he finds out.  
Word Count: 3.2k
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It wasn’t hard to fall for him. Humor, charm, high cheekbones… he has it all. From his silver tongue to his raven hair, you adored every aspect. Despite his misdeeds, he was undeniably hot. He held himself royally, always maintaining an air of nobility. One meeting with him had you hooked on him, unable to let go or think of anything else.
‘He lives free rent in my mind’, you told Natasha one day in the living room of the Avengers Headquarters. Apart from Pepper, she and Wanda were the only ones you could do Girl Talk with. ‘I don’t know how to tell him.’
She looked at you sympathetically, taking your hand in her own. She had known of your crush since the day you started liking him. The radio played in the background, informing of some good weather, but neither of you noticed, both too concentrated on your current dilemma. Lovesickness had never been a significant issue to you before… until he came along.
‘He stole my heart… and yet he acts oblivious,’ you ranted on. Natasha looked up, smiling softly. She stroked your hand with one finger absent-mindedly as she listened intently.
‘He’ll get there. Or maybe,’ a small smirk tugged at her lips as she looked back up at you, ‘he already knows; he might just be toying with you just to see how long you’d last.’
You nudged her with your hand, a faint red hue coming over your face. He wouldn’t… right?
‘I mean-’, she pressed on, ‘it’s a very typical thing of him to do, don’t you think?’ She scooted closer to you, putting a hand on your back soothingly. ‘Playing with others’ feelings… I honestly don’t think it would take him that long to figure out that you like him. It’s really obvious.’
‘You’re not helping,’ you replied, looking up at the ceiling, as if trying to locate him through the walls. Nevertheless, you smiled softly at her teasing. She was always there for your small talks. After a while, you lowered your gaze back to your lap, reality sinking in and you felt the joy leaving you.
‘But what if he doesn’t? What if he genuinely doesn’t know?’ you mumbled in front of you, pulling your knees up and wrapping your arms around them. Once again, tears threatened to fall as you buried your face in them, softly mumbling to yourself. The fabric of your pants absorbed the salty droplets, leaving a dark spot there. You were audibly sniffing now. You felt her hand move up and down your back again, her words only muffled sounds. At some point she led you back to your room, leaving you to yourself for the rest of the night.
The next day you went over to the library. The Avengers had quite a big one, it filled the entire floor. Rows upon rows of shelves lined the walls and the spaces in between, the scent of paper floating in the air. You stopped at the sign that indicated where the romance-fiction stories were. If only my life was as nice as one of those, you thought, pulling a roman out of the shelf and reading the back of it intently. If only I could live in a life like that.
Sitting down at the table, you put down the book you’d taken out. Not gonna lie, you were in no interest in reading it. There was no need for you to get jealous over another made-up story. To pass time, you grabbed a scrap piece of paper and started doodling. Only the lines that the lead left only spelled one word, over and over again: Loki. You wrote his name all over the place, sideways, in cursive, in bold letters. Maybe it was because you were so concentrated that you didn’t hear the library door opening.
‘Oh, I see that I’m not the only one in need of something to do,’ a voice said, startling you. You quickly covered the scribbled paper with another blank sheet, looking over your shoulder. Thor was standing there with a load of books in his arms.
‘My dear brother decided to make me run errands,’ he explained cheerfully, certainly not getting the nervousness etched in your face. You nodded, looking down. What you would do to make Loki make you run his errands. ‘You alright?’ His voice brought you back to reality.
‘What? Oh. Yeah, I’m alright. Just… in need of something to do, like you said,’ you managed a small smile that was somewhat realistic. He just smiled and continued putting books back on shelves. Your eyes followed every single book as he put them back. Loki held these maybe even moments ago, you thought. If only I were a book he’d like to read.
Sometime later, he looked over to you again and asked: ‘Are you working on anything? Because that paper tells me you aren’t doing what you want to do.’ You picked up the two pieces of paper and replied a little too fast: ‘Oh, yeah, I just have to write something for Stark, nothing big.’ You held the papers a little more firmly in your hand. When he asked to proofread it, you declined immediately. Mumbling something about not being done, you put them back down, bending over it and pretending you were thinking about what to write. Shrugging, Thor left, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. But your relief didn’t last long; a few moments later, another person came in, and this time it was none other than the god of mischief himself. Strutting through the rows, you heard him pulling books out and putting them back in, as if none of the ones he found were worth his attention. Eventually he spoke up.
‘Why the tenseness? Is it your time of the month?’ he asked coyly. He turned the corner and looked at you. Your gaze dropped almost instantly to the ground. ‘No, I’m just…,’ you said, picking your papers up again, ‘just a little tired. Couldn’t sleep.’
His eyebrows raised as he looked away to the opposite bookshelf. ‘Is that so…?’ he mumbled, more to himself than to you, ‘hmm.’ You couldn’t tell if he knew you were lying or not but he sure seemed to deem you amusing. After a small pause he continued. ‘I would’ve thought someone like you would know that lying to me is futile.’
You froze. Of course you knew that, but how could you ever tell him the truth of your stiffness? He’s the prince of Asgard, rightful king of Jotunheim, a regal character, not some random guy you can just find on the streets. ‘Yes, of course. How could I not know that?’
He narrowed his eyes, his signature smirk widening. He walks up to you, his eyes boring into yours. His gaze fell upon the papers you held in your arms, a questioning look crossing his face.
‘Just… just a report I’m supposed to write,’ you lied for the second time, and he didn’t let that go unnoticed. He tilts his head, his eyes asking are you really going to do this? Because there won’t be a nice ending if this continues. He doesn’t say anything about it though, just nods slyly and walks away.
He pulls a further book of the shelf, inspecting it. Seemingly satisfied, he scanned it and left the library, letting the emptiness envelop you. You uncovered the paper filled with his name, unshed tears threatening to fall. Will he ever know…? Will he ever acknowledge my feelings for him?
You return to your room afterwards, attempting to bury your feelings down a deep grave. You sulked until night fell upon the busy city. Deciding to take a shower, you went to get some fresh clothes for the night. Soon enough, warm water was splattering down your body, warming your sore and mentally broken body.
When you came back out of the shower and entered your living room again, you found an unexpected guest. Loki was sitting in your armchair, reading a magazine. His eyes darted to you the moment you stepped into the chamber. You fumbled with your nightshirt pockets, unsure of what to do.
‘What, uh, brings you to my place at this hour?’ you tried, testing the waters. He doesn’t reply, instead he slowly puts the magazine down, his eyes never leaving yours. He shortens the distance between you, every step making your heart beat faster. When he finally stopped around a foot away from you, you looked down, unable to look at him properly. He was too much, too dazzling for your poor, tragic eyes.
‘I think we both know why I’m here,’ he says, tilting his head, eyes boring into yours. You couldn’t breathe, your breath running short. His aura surrounded you like a cage, keeping you trapped in his gaze. ‘No, I don’t think so,’ you replied quietly to the floor. He lifted your chin and forced you to look him in the eye, his face inches from yours. ‘Do not lie, little minx. I know what your problem is. You suffer from lovesickness. There’s a man you love so dearly that you can’t stop thinking about him.’
You shoved him away the moment these words left his mouth. You couldn’t, couldn’t stand his breath on your face, couldn’t stand how close he was to you. ‘Yeah, that’s right,’ you said, using indifference to cover up your shaking voice, ‘I do suffer from that. What has that got to do with you coming over?’
He scoffed softly, ‘Oh, darling, that has everything to do about me coming over. I imagine I can relieve you of your… dilemma.’ Your heart skipped a beat, hoping he didn’t mean what you thought he meant. You just shook your head, looking away. ‘You wouldn’t understand…’ you said, hoping he’d stop clawing at your secrets. But he smiled, nodding slightly and does the utter opposite of what you hoped. ‘Oh really? Because I have a very different opinion about that.’
Please leave, you thought as he said this, praying to the gods, please stop killing me like this… another minute with you will break me. But his next words proved that your prayers were ignored.
‘I’m the lucky guy.’
I’m the lucky guy.
These words seemed to echo in your head. So he knew. He knew about your helpless case. And he knew he was at the center of it. All this time. Or maybe just since today. But who cares. He knows. And your secret’s spilled. In a terrifying way.   
You opened your mouth, but no sound came out. You closed it again, looking anywhere but at him. In the end you settled with staring at his knees, which are pretty much where your eyes land when you look down. You were freaking out, your heart hammering in your chest. You needed to be alone. Right. Freaking. Now.
‘You know what?’ you said, your voice quivering, ‘I’m going to bed.’ You turn around and began marching with determination towards your bedroom door. Loki seemed slightly stunned, catching your shoulder just in time and called after you with worry in his tone: ‘Where are you going? You shouldn’t just leave me hanging, we should – need – to talk about this-‘
‘No, we won’t,’ you said, refusing to turn around and face him. Gods, if you stayed any longer tears would fall. ‘We shouldn’t, because we’re not-‘ she broke off, the words lost in her throat. Going to work out well was what she wanted to say, but she just couldn’t – wouldn’t – bring these words over her lips. Instead, she shook her head again and marched further away. Your sanctuary was so close… so close… But his next words brought you to a halt again.
‘Jumping to conclusions won’t help, Y/n,’ he said with a tenderness he didn’t know he possessed. Due to her lack of response, he pressed further, ‘Is that why you never tried to communicate with me? Why you so desperately avoided my presence? Because you feared that no matter what you did, the worse-case scenario would always happen? Talk to me, Y/n.’ His words hung in the air, thickening it. Tears welled up in her eyes, her mind reflecting on all the break-up and mocking scenarios her imagination had come up with. She whipped around, trying to keep her tears from falling.
‘You don’t know what you’re talking about. You have no idea what it feels like. You have-‘ she broke off again, a shuddering breath replacing the words she was about to say. You have no reason to love me. Not a single one. Tears began to fall as this thought formed in your head. The same one that brought you to tears every time. Every. Damn. Time.
He stayed silent, staring at the thin streams flowing down your face. Unable to bear the silence, you ran back to your room, slamming the door behind you. The moment it fell into place, the streams on your cheeks became rivers, and soon enough you were a sobbing mess on the floor. You were sure Loki could hear them through the door, but at that moment you didn’t care. He had no reason to love you, to care about you, or to even be here, in your living room, standing, stunned, in front of your bedroom door.
Loki felt a sudden pang of sadness when he heard your sobs. Looking down and deciding that it’s a bad time, he leaves, shutting your door quietly.
You didn’t remember how long you’d sat there, crying, on the floor. The only thing you do remember that is that at some point, you dragged yourself into bed and cried yourself to sleep. The next morning came in the blink of an eye, the bright sunlight waking you up. For a split second everything was fine. No worries, no problems, no nothing. But then it all came back to you and the feeling of eternal bliss was stripped from you faster than you wanted it to be.
As you swung your legs over the edge of the bed, you saw something that certainly wasn’t there the night before. A small folded card was propped up against your brush on your nightstand, and your heart skipped a beat when you recognised Loki’s smooth handwriting. There was only one word on the cover: your name. Picking it up like a grenade, you opened it, expecting to see something that went along the lines of ‘I’m sorry, that’ll never happen again,’ but only found one line of words inside it.
‘Come over to my room.’
You blinked.
Come over to my room.
You read through that line a good five times before the meaning got into your brain, although the cogs in your head were still trying to sort this out. Loki – like, God of mischief and destroyer of New York Loki – was inviting you to enter his private chambers? Was this a joke? Was he trying to hype you up just to break you back down?
As much as you’d like to deny it, that order was a lot more appealing than it should be. You desperately wanted to see him again, even if it meant you could be broken. So after a moment of internal debating, you concluded that you will go pay him a visit, and will see what the hell he wants. Putting on some clothes, you set off to his room.
You half expected him to swing the door open and yank you inside when you knocked, but instead some green light shimmered and formed the words: Door is unlocked. Starting to get creepy now, you thought, gathering up your courage and pushing the door open.
The moment you stepped a foot into his room, a hand grabbed your waist and spun you around. Next moment you felt soft lips pressed against yours. Your breath hitched when you figured it was Loki’s. You didn’t have time to register what was going on, everything was happening so fast. So you did the one thing you could do: melt into his touch.
Once the shock has subsided, it felt a lot better than what you expected in your fantasies. His lips were so soft, so loving as they kissed you, sweetly asking for you to open your mouth. His tongue delved into it, tangling itself with yours, licking and flicking and who knows what tricks.
After what felt like an eternity, he pulled away, his blue eyes gazing into yours. You blushed, looking at the floor, suddenly realising what you two just did. Stumbling over your own words, you said: ‘That was… umm…’
He hummed in response, his hands never leaving your waistline. Your face must’ve been as red as a tomato when you spoke up again. ‘Nice of you…’
He put on a mock hurt look. Pulling you closer, he nuzzled in the crook of your neck. ‘Is that all? After this wonderous surprise I’ve prepared that bested all other ones?’
You shrugged, unable to speak. He was killing you, like before… but this time in a sweet way. You mumbled something about being ‘sorry for last night’, but he shushed you almost immediately.
‘There’s no need for that,’ he said, patting your head, ‘No need to be sorry. I know I went a little to sudden.’
He pulled back to look at you. His eyes searched your body, as if trying to print it into his head. Your arms creeped up his neck, wrapping themselves securely around it. You stared as he breathed heavily into your face, a scent of mint filling your nose.
‘Did you like, eat a mint this morning?’ you asked shyly. He chuckled, swinging you into his arms, causing you to instinctively cling onto him. You gave him an angry look, burying your face in his neck. ‘Just for you, my love.’ You were suddenly happy he couldn’t see your face. He could probably feel the heat radiating off it, though.
‘So… are we a thing now?’ he asked, walking towards the couch and sitting down, you now in his lap. ‘Or what do you Midgardians call it… a couple?’ You nodded in agreement, making yourself comfortable in his arms. He absent-mindedly stroked your hair, admiring the way it shimmers slightly in the dim light.
‘For how long did you know?’ you asked him, grabbing his free hand and playing with it like a toddler. He thought for a moment, then said: ‘Most likely since a month ago. I was originally waiting for you to make the first move, but… you seemed too nervous to. That’s why I decided to come to your room last night.’
You gaped as he said that. A freaking month. No, we’re not talking about a week or two, he’s known for a MONTH. You’ve only crushed on him for like what, two months? He smirked as he saw your expression. ‘You kept looking at me now and then. And you always freaked out when you were within three meters of me.’
You shoved him playfully, pulling his hand up so it was right over your heart. You leaned into his touch, and for the first time since hours, you were glad he made the first move.
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Hope y'all enjoyed it!!!
(Guys it's my first official tumblr storyyyyyy)
Tagging: @vbecker10 @mischiefmaker615 @simplyholl
Tell me if you want to be part of my taglist!
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noisykk ¡ 3 months ago
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So what is Sylus exactly and why is Fenir MIA?
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A week after being officially declared missing, Feynir was located while conducting a routine patrol in the forest. She was promptly escorted back to the management office, where she asserted that she had checked in daily without fail and had consistently received confirmation from her colleagues at headquarters, denying that she had ever gone missing. Subsequently, Feynir was reassigned from the fire lookout tower to a position at the local management office.
Feynir’s missing status is temporary. Sylas has the ability to disrupt magnetic fields and has deliberately prevented rescue teams from locating her. Each morning, when Feynir finishes her check-in, the voice coming through the radio is also fake. She is unaware that Sylas has been interfering with the signal.
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storiesforallfandoms ¡ 3 months ago
Text
a perfect world ~ jack chambers;don't worry darling
word count: 2122
request?: no
description: in which she finds out that their picture perfect world is not as perfect as it seems
pairing: jack chambers x female!reader
warnings: swearing, use of y/n, kind of an au where jack isn't an incel but he still does the bad thing of taking the reader into the simulation, jack tries to gaslight the reader, kind of a dark fic if you think about it but not super dark
masterlist (one, two, three)
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Jack knew something was wrong the moment he walked into the house. It was the quiet that tipped him off. It was never quiet. Usually the place was filled with music. Either the soft lull of the radio, or his wife's humming, or both.
This time, though, the house was eerily quiet.
Jack came around the corner to find his wife stood at the kitchen counter. She had a glass of wine in her hand, with the bottle next to her on the counter. She was staring off into space as she took a sip of her wine, her movements almost robotic.
"(Y/N)?" Jack said, cautiously. "Love, are you alright?"
(Y/N) didn't respond at first. She took a long sip before slowly placing the glass down. Jack's worry was growing further. Not only worry for his wife, but worry for himself. If something was seriously wrong with her, then it would result in demotion, or worse, from Frank.
Finally, (Y/N) turned to face him. Her face was so calm that it scared Jack. When she spoke, her voice was also eerily calm.
"I know about Victory."
Jack tried to laugh off the comment. "My job? Of course you know about it, love."
"No," (Y/N) said, shaking her head. "I know what Victory is. I know why we're here, Jack. And what you did to me."
Jack's blood ran cold.
In his fear and anxiety, Jack started laughing again. (Y/N)'s face was still blank as she looked at him.
"I don't know what you're on about," Jack said. "I didn't do anything to you, besides put a ring on your finger."
(Y/N) chuckled, but there was no true humor behind it. "Well, yes, you did actually do that. But you didn't do it the way we've been telling the story, did you?"
Jack started to walk away. He was trying to seem nonchalant, but the panic was starting to overwhelm him. He didn't want (Y/N) to see his panic, otherwise he wouldn't be able to convince her that she was wrong.
He stopped when (Y/N) called after him, "How long do you intend to keep me in this simulation?"
Jack spun around before he could stop himself. "You are crazy! Do you hear yourself? You're talking crazy!"
Emotion was finally showing on (Y/N)'s face. It quickly went from shock to anger. "You're going to call me crazy? When you're the one who has me hooked up to a machine and making me play happy little housewife?!"
"You don't know what you're talking about!"
Jack couldn't help but quickly look around in panic. There was no way Frank was listening in on their private conversations, right? This wouldn't get back to him, would it? He needed to stop (Y/N) before things got too loud or somehow their neighbors noticed the arguing.
He tried a more calm approach, saying, "Love, I don't know where you got this idea. We are not in a simulation, you are not hooked up to machines. I'm sorry I called you crazy, but you have to understand that is how everyone will react when they hear you saying this."
(Y/N) pulled away as Jack tried to reach for her. "I got this idea when I went to the Victory headquarters."
Jack backed away from her. No, she couldn't have been to the Headquarters. None of the wives even knew where the Headquarters was, and they wouldn't be able to even go out that far.
Except for Margaret, but Ted wore he had her under control.
They locked eyes, silently daring the other to make a move. Jack had lost any sense of confidence he had mustered seconds ago. He felt like everything was about to slip from his fingers. Everything he worked so hard to build for him and (Y/N), all gone in the seconds it took for her to utter that sentence. Meanwhile, (Y/N) had gone back to looking emotionless. She didn't even realize how much she was about to lose.
When Jack didn't break the silence, (Y/N) took it as her opportunity to explain, "I was on the trolley and it broke down. The driver told me it would take some time for it to be fixed, so I offered to just walk back to town. But, oddly, the driver started trying to convince me not to get off. He was very adamant about staying on the trolley. I was a little put off by how insistent he was on it, but I thought he was just worried for my safety."
Jack felt himself unconsciously clenching his fists. The damn trolley driver. Couldn't he have been a little more subtle?
"I did stay on for a while," she continued. "But it was just the two of us, and I knew I'd get home quicker if I just walked. So I did. When the driver wasn't paying much attention, I got off and started walking. But we were in the desert, and none of us wives have ever been out that far, so I was a bit lost. I found his building I've never seen or heard of before. I knew I shouldn't go to it, but...my curiosity got the better of me."
Jack felt as though he was going to start crying. Even though he already knew the answer, he asked, "What did you see?"
"Nothing," (Y/N) responded. "Not at first. Not until I touched the building. Then I saw the truth. All of it."
Jack winced.
That's it. There's no denying her when she saw the building.
The truth was that (Y/N) was right: she was hooked up to a machine that was putting her in a simulated perfect 50s town.
In the real world, Jack and (Y/N) were really married. They fell in love young and married right after they graduated university. Everything was great, until Jack lost his job. His company was on a fast downwards spiral that resulted in a number of employees getting terminated, and Jack was one of the unfortunate ones. (Y/N) was still trying to get a job within her field of study, so she was working a minimum wage retail job. While Jack was unemployed, (Y/N) had to carry the financial burdens, and that made Jack feel awful and useless.
Then he discovered Frank and Victory.
Frank promised a perfect world and a perfect life. All Jack needed to do was work for eight hours a day, as well as all the other men within their town, for Frank; for Victory. It was a small price to pay for him and (Y/N) to live their dream life.
And now all of that work was ruined. Frank would take care of (Y/N) for finding out, whatever that meant, and Jack would be exiled from Victory.
He had to sit down.
He lowered himself into a chair at their dining table. (Y/N) was still watching him. He wished she would just do whatever she planned to do; scream, break things, go right to Frank and tell him she knew about everything. Whatever the plan, he just wanted her to get it over with. The unknown silence was killing him.
"Why?" she finally asked. "Why did you do this?"
"For us," Jack said. "So we could live a better life."
"What was wrong with our life before?"
Jack scoffed. "Seriously? (Y/N), we were struggling. I was unemployed, you were working a shitty job. You were pulling all the financial weight, and I hate that all of that was on your shoulders."
"So instead of talking to me about your feelings, you hooked me up to a machine and put me into a simulation without my consent?"
Jack hung his head. There was no way to paint that part in a good light. He hadn't brought up Victory because he was afraid (Y/N) would reject the idea, and he couldn't take their real life for much longer.
"I just wanted to take care of you," Jack said, his voice small. "You were doing it for so long, and you never complained even though I know it was tough. I didn't want you to do it anymore, and Frank offered the perfect life for us."
He heard (Y/N)'s heels clicking against the tiled kitchen floor as she approached the table. He couldn't look up at her as she leaned on the table, basically towering over him.
"What happens if Frank finds out that I know?" she asked.
Jack shook his head. "I don't completely know. He just says he takes care of it."
"Did he take care of Margaret?"
He didn't ask her how she knew that Margaret had known the truth as well. It was probably pretty obvious now that she knew. Instead, he just nodded. "And he told Ted that if he didn't get Margaret under control, then he'd be fired from Victory."
"So, if Frank finds out, this is all over for both of us?"
He nodded again. He had a feeling he knew where she was going with this. She'd go tell Frank that she knew the truth about Victory, even though it would be a risk for her to do so. But the risk would be worth it if it meant Jack was fired from Victory, sent back to the reality that he was trying to desperately to save them from. Once they were back in their own reality, (Y/N) would no doubt divorce him as well. He'd deserve it, of course.
"Then I'll just have to get really good at keeping a secret."
Jack's head shot up quickly to look at (Y/N). There was a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, and there was something in her eyes as she looked at Jack.
"What do you mean?" he asked, dumbly.
"I mean, what you did was very fucked up. Like, extremely fucked up. Next time you're making big decisions like, I don't know, putting us in a fucking simulation, maybe talk to me about it first. But, with that being said...I'd be lying if I said I preferred our real life over this one."
Jack was stunned. This was not what he was expecting at all.
(Y/N) gestured for Jack to push his chair back. When given enough room, she sat herself on his lap and put her arms around his neck.
"We can't stay here forever," she told him. "We have real bodies that need to be taken care of, and families and people that will worry if we just disappear. But, it's hard to give up on this life. It's so...perfect."
"So what are you saying?" Jack asked.
"I'm saying we put a cap on how long we stay here. Give it...I don't know, another year. We let ourselves be happy, be worry free. Then, however we have to, we get out of here and we get to working on making our reality just as perfect as the simulation is."
"You'll have to go back to work."
She nodded. "I know. But I'm not opposed to working. I did get a whole degree so I could work my dream job, after all."
Jack put his arms around her. He wanted to pull her in close and not ever let her go, but he couldn't just yet. "Why?"
She furrowed her brows. "Why what?"
"Why aren't you more mad? Why aren't you going to tell Frank so that I get in trouble? Why do you want to stay here...stay with me?"
(Y/N) gave him a look like she thought he was being incredibly stupid before cupping his cheeks. "Because I love you, you idiot. And, like I said, the way you went about doing this was very stupid and wrong, but I know you did it because you love me, too. As long as you can agree with my deal, I don't see any reason to be mad and want to leave you."
Jack finally allowed himself to kiss her. It caught her off guard, which made her giggle against his lips. Every memory he had with her, both in the real world and in their simulation, came rushing back to him.
"I agree," he said. "I'll do whatever you want, I promise."
"Right now, I think I want to make love to my husband in our super cool retro bedroom," she told him. "Just to make sure I don't forget how to do that when we get back to the real world."
Jack smiled at her. "Oh, don't worry love. I won't let you forget."
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wilwheaton ¡ 1 year ago
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On August 11, day 102 of the 11,500-person Writers Guild of America (WGA) strike, which has largely shut down the film industry coast to coast, aided by below-the-line workers respecting picket lines and bolstered by 160,000 members of the Screen Actors Guild-American Federation of Television and Radio Artists (SAG-AFTRA), who initiated their own strike on July 14, the studios finally returned to the bargaining table. The Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers (AMPTP), the organization that bargains on behalf of the major studios, offered counterproposals, a long-awaited response to the WGA’s proposals. The two sides met the following week and continued to exchange proposals. Then, on August 22, day 113 of the WGA strike, the two sides met again, but with an important addition: previous negotiating sessions had been led by AMPTP president Carol Lombardini, the studios’ hired hand, while at this one, the bosses who make the decisions were in the room. Disney CEO Bob Iger, Warner Bros. Discovery CEO David Zaslav, Netflix co-CEO Ted Sarandos, and NBCUniversal’s Donna Langley came to the table to face the WGA’s elected leadership in the room outside of the AMPTP’s Sherman Oaks, California, headquarters where the negotiations have taken place. Workers, suffering the devastating effects of a months-long strike, hoped that the studios might finally offer counterproposals that meet their needs. Instead, the bargaining session led to further unraveling. “We accepted [the] invitation and, in good faith, met tonight, in hopes that the companies were serious about getting the industry back to work,” wrote the WGA negotiating committee in a message to members following the meeting. “Instead, on the 113th day of the strike — and while SAG-AFTRA is walking the picket lines by our side — we were met with a lecture about how good their single and only counteroffer was.” The two sides had agreed to adhere to a media blackout, vowing not to leak information about the proposals to third parties. Yet immediately following the August 22 session, the AMPTP publicly released a document highlighting elements of their counterproposal. “This was a meeting to get us to cave,” said the WGA leadership, “which is why, not twenty minutes after we left the meeting, the AMPTP released its summary of their proposals.”
The Hollywood Studios Still Aren’t Serious About Ending the Writers’ Strike
These sociopath CEOs are hearing it from shareholders, who want us to get back to work. The shareholders are making it clear that the psychopath CEOs can release the LESS THAN ONE PERCENT of their compensations to get us back to work.
So the sociopath CEOs put on a big show of coming back to bargain and work this out ... and when the WGA sits down to bargain, these sociopath CEOs have the fucking nerve to just lecture the WGA about how great their absolute garbage offer is. The offer WGA rejected because it didn’t address any of the issues on the table.
These sociopath CEOs are the problem:
Disney CEO Bob Iger, Warner Bros. Discovery CEO David Zaslav, Netflix co-CEO Ted Sarandos, and NBCUniversal’s Donna Langley 
These sociopath CEOs are greedy and entitled. That any one of them thought that lecturing WGA, then gaslighting members (in violation of not just the agreed upon media blackout, but likely in violation of labor law) would move us any closer to getting back to work tells you everything you need to know about who the problem is.
Fuck these scumbags, fuck their greed, and fuck their gaslighting.
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