#the chevy chase show

[cherocarofficial]

1972 GMC K1500 Custom 4X4

[forever70s]

the original cast of Saturday Night Live (1975) with Chevy Chase, Laraine Newman, John Belushi, Gilda Radner, Garrett Morris, Jane Curtin, and Dan Aykroyd

[secretagentsagainstwhatever]

what’s the best halloween special of all time and why is it Community’s S2 halloween special Epidemiology

[darkesttimelinedean]

I haven’t watched Community in months even though I’m literally in my freshman year of college, now’s really the time. Still love it, still bring it up every day in my television class. I’ve started it up again today (from the beginning) and it reminded me to post a little tidbit I got from Chevy’s daughter when we met: Everyone was new, mostly getting their first big break except for Chevy (seasoned actor) and Donald (who had worked really hard to get here). Donald was very shy, but Alison, ever the ‘really sweet’ and boisterous theater actress, engaged everyone and brought him out of his shell. Joel is very similar to how he presents himself in real life and had an interest in the ‘business side’ and ‘very cool things,’ whatever that means. Also there were tons of group chats it’s so cute.

[oldshowbiz]

The Chevy Chase Theater at 6230 Sunset Blvd

[movie--posters]

[paul-newmans-sauce]

“Every man should be punched in the face. It's a rite of passage. In my day, Friday night was smoke a doobie, feel up a gal, and then get your teeth knocked out by a Republican.”

If Pierce really lived it up when he was younger, then I have no choice but to think he was a little cool (but I hate him more than anything ever).

[truth-is-relative]

It's so funny to me that while Pierce slowly got some good character development Chevy was slowly going insane behind the scenes 😭

[ineffable-inspirations]

[video id: A brief tiktok titled 'Cockfighting Chair!' by '@bestaddress', showing a pale, dark-haired man in a dark suit standing next to an antique chair upholstered in red leather. It has curved wooden legs, a curved triangular shaped seat that tapers at the back, with a flared armrest attached to the top of the narrow backrest. The chair has a drawer beneath the seat, compartments under the arms and a folding desk attached to the outer un-upholstered side of the backrest.

transcript: "I'm showing property in Chevy Chase, Maryland, and came across this," gestures to the chair, "in the attic of the house. And it's interesting because it has a small drawer here at the seat." He pulls open the drawer to show the empty wooden interior.

"And if you turn it around to the back, there are storage containers on both sides of the arm." He opens the wooden compartments.

"And also interestingly, there's a pull-out table that you can raise and use on the chair." He pulls up the table and tries to use the support mechanism but it flops partially closed. "It's a little broken now but that's how it works.

"There are two competing histories for the origins of the chair. The cockamamie story is that they were originally designed to watch cock fights and that the compartments I showed earlier were meant to conceal coins for betting, and the table was designed to hold your drink as you watched."

"But the prosaic and true story is that these chairs were designed as reading and writing desks. The folding table holds a paper or book and the drawers are meant for holding writing utensils and candles."

He is shown sitting on the chair with the chair back mostly behind him.

"Although you would think that you would sit on it as you would a normal chair, you don't."

He's now shown instead sitting with the 'back' of the chair between his legs, his arms resting on the arm of the chair.

"The proper way to sit on the chair is backwards - like this!"

There is a smiley face emoji at the end of the on screen captions.

/end id]

[cherocarofficial]

1957 Chevrolet Bel Air

[purelyfiction]

stars in a line - robert 'bob' floyd x f!reader

Word Count: 1,207 words

Summary: Chicken's in the skillet, ice in the drink, head's in the clouds, diamond's in the rough, he's in a Chevy and I'm in love // Tips in the apron, hair's in a braid, Mercury's all in retrograde // He's in a T-shirt all cleaned up, Good lord almighty, mama don't wait up // Chills down my spine, hearts on the line, He's all mine and I'm in love

Content Warning: fluff!! also note of animal abandonment

Author Note: another round for @ohtobeleah 's galentines writings :))))))

the familiar rumble of the older engine makes your features split with a smile. when bob had told you he was gonna drive his truck from montana to california you thought he was losing his mind.

then he'd explained why he was so insistent.

that he'd taken you out in that '87 Chevy all those years ago. after weeks of coming into the diner you worked in after school, dozens and dozens of milkshake and fry basket combos (and subsequent heartburn) just so he could hang out with you. he'd gotten up the nerve to finally ask you out. that truck had been your front row seats at the drive in watching a rerun of some old army movie his dad had recommended.

he'd taken the two of you to prom in that truck. to high school graduation, your college graduation. when the engine died on you while he was stationed in atlanta he'd taught you how to fix the thing via facetime.

beverly the chevy had been there for so many of your big moments. she'd been the reason why bob ended up buying the house that you stood contently in.

'bev is gonna need a place out of the elements if she's gonna stay top notch.'

this house had been the only one with a two car garage. one side for bev and one side for your car.

now when the engine rumbles echoed in the garage and made the older house vibrate, you couldn't help but grin. the sizzling of chicken in a skillet on the stove greets bob when he steps into the kitchen. he's greeted with the smell and a bottle of wine in a pile of ice in the sink. the door to the garage shuts, and you glance over your shoulder. when you do, you're witnessing the brown paper bouquet in his hands, white t-shirt on his shoulders, levis hugging his waist, trucker cap right where it belongs. he knows what this does to you. it's a simple look, nothing more than the basics but that's what does it. it highlights him. the man you love, bare bones and all.

the same man you fell for in that truck bed all those years ago.

he slides his boots off and wraps his arms around you from behind you, showing off the flowers he carried in. "happy flowers to you," he's humming now, making you giggle as his arms tight around you start bouncing you back and forth as he sings to the tune of 'happy birthday', "happy flowers to you, happy flowers, happy flowers, to my valentine youuuuuu" he punctuates the end of the song with a sloppy kiss to your cheek as you ease the weight of the florals from his hand.

"these are stunning, bo." you grin as he lets go, letting you turn to face him fully as he smiles.

"i know, i picked 'em cause they remind me of you." bob grins before pressing a quick kiss to your lips, barely pulling back when he speaks again, "happy valentines, sweet girl." you repeat the sentiment before he takes the arrangement and starts to get them into water.

you can't help but stare as he begins trimming the ends of each stem, easing them into the vase. you can smell the freshness of his body wash, having showered on base before he came home to you. couldn't waste time on your night together - and he knew it. the combination on him is near lethal to you. if you weren't actively cooking dinner, the counter would have been supplying a different kind of heat to the kitchen.

"i bought you something!" you nearly startle him with your sudden announcement, the reminder of your gift hitting you as you watch him. running down the hall causes the pup in the living room to chase after you, causing you and bob to both laugh.

shadow had been an unplanned addition to your lives because the poor pup appeared on your back deck one night. the collar on his neck held your current address. the previous owners had barely been involved with the process of the sale, so you didn't have their contact information to tell them hey assholes, you left your dog.

so, you and bob joked that the house came with a guardian, a black lab and german shepherd mix (bob got his dna tested out of infuriating curiosity). he quickly clung to the two of you - thus 'shadow'.

you lug the box into the kitchen, where bob has kept an eye on the meal you had recklessly abandoned. looking at you he huffs a gasp. "sweet girl, this is unnecessary." he laughs, taking the wrapped gift from your arms and sliding it onto the counter. still, he tears into it and reveals the milkshake maker, making him laugh, looking over at you with a grin. "that why you got your hair all done like this?" he grins, his fingers moving over the braid you'd plaited this morning.

"maybe." you hum, kissing his cheek as he looks over the box holding the machine. that diner the two of you met in had closed not long after you moved to san diego. you'd spent hours there and he'd once complimented the ribbon in your hair when it was woven into the braid on your head. recently, bob had mentioned how he'd missed those milkshakes they'd always made him.

he grins, before tucking his hand into his pocket. "hold out your hand." you hold it out as he asks, palm up. what he sets into your palm catches you off guard.

you'd been expecting something small, likely a jewelry box or something, like the years before.

instead a little metal circle is dropped into your palm. shining and glimmering. diamonds along it like stars in a line. your spine is electrified with chills, as your jaw drops as you look at him in awe. "bob, what-you-"

"i can get on my knee if you want, i'm just- i'm so in love with you. i'm truly in awe of you and how valid you make me feel. how valued and cherished i feel - how you listen," his head nods to the machine on the counter, "and you care and you never fail to be the best. just simply the best. i hope that i am for you-"

cutting him off you speak, "and you are," he laughs.

"then i wanna continue being that for you. for forever." you're sliding the new piece of jewelry onto your ring finger before he can get the words out, your arms slinking around his shoulders and linking your lips with his.

when you pull back, you grin.

"you're mine. i'm all yours and i'm in love. i'm so in love with you. with our life and the path we're on." you whisper. his hand takes a hold of your arm before the two of you jump at the sound of a smoke detector, both of you scrambling to clear the kitchen of smoke.

when the alarm is off and the burnt chicken is tossed, you smirk as you pull ice cream from the fridge.

"ice cream for dinner?" you try. bob grins.

"how about milkshakes instead?"

[darkesttimelinedean]

I’m going on a movie cruise with my mom and grandma in November and they sometimes have some actors on there (mostly from my mom’s generation) and CHEVY CHASE IS GOING TO BE THERE.

What should I ask him? Say to him? I feel weird. I’ve never met anyone famous and I’ve definitely never met anyone from the show that chang’d my life. Though I know he is an asshole.

[freshbakedbreadstick]

No. 1 Party Anthem - Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader - Prologue

Past!Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader

Carmy Berzatto x F!Platonic!Reader

Richie Herimovich x F!Platonic!Reader

Summary: After running for so long, it was time to come home

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of the content. Heavy spoilers and angst. Mentions of death, mental health issues, and toxic relationships. It’s not graphic or detailed in this one but I just want to warn you now that this series will deal with extremely heavy topics as it goes on (similar to the show).

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Hey bestiesssssssssss!!! This is my first ever series and actually first ever written work that I'm posting lol and I'm so excited for it!!! I'm starting off with a series because i had this really good and angsty idea while reading ANOTHER fantastic piece of work and was like “fine…….. I'll do it myself” so i'm here now writing it lmao anyways i'm starting off posting my fanfics with Mikey and Carmy because i've been a little too focused on The Bear lately n love them so much. Chapter one of this series should be coming up this time next week so dw abt waiting so long for an update!! Anyways i hope you all enjoyyyy <3

MASTERLIST

The cool Chicago night air nips at you as it blows by, rolling along the exposed skin of your arms. It was 3 in the morning and the street where The Original Beef of Chicagoland stood was empty and silent.

The building stood before you, quiet and lifeless. It was odd seeing it so silent and it almost seemed… peaceful. But one glance at the rusting sign that seemed to be barely hanging onto the building made the façade of tranquility fall.

The knot in your stomach grew as your eyes traced over the rusted sign and then onto the walls that showed cracks and age. The sidewalk wasn’t any better with uneven cement and haphazard patching. Just then, a piece of trash rolled by the curb, coming from the alley right next to The Beef. 

It was just like how you remembered it. 

The wear and tear was what originally made you appreciate it. It showed use and love, the same way that laugh lines around a person’s mouth showed you that they lived a life full of smiles and laughter. The walls were in use as hundreds filed in and out of the building for their favorites, every week. The floor was worn away underneath the soles of families, drunk friends, older couples, working folk, and more. The ungentrified building made the whole thing feel nostalgic, despite not being a building you were around as a child. It had felt… familiar in a both comforting and melancholic way. 

But now, seeing the building, especially with its marks of age, made your blood run like ice through your veins. It made you shiver, despite it being September in Chicago. 

What once was a warm and inviting place felt cold and even scary. 

It had been months since you spoke to the Berzattos. Actually, it had been months since you were in Chicago at all. About 8 months, that is. You left in February after… everything and never looked back. The east felt too familiar at that point, so you traveled west.

You chased the highs and avoided the lows, moving from one place to another until you settled in a quiet town where you felt loved. But that love didn’t come without its challenges and when it got hard, you did what you knew best and that was leaving. 

So you left with no clue as to where you were going, too proud but mainly too afraid to reach out to the family you had in Chicago. You drove with a car full of junk you couldn't even stand looking at anymore for all the memories of the past couple of months attached to them made your stomach churn. With no place to go, you found yourself, 5 days after leaving and living in your car, sitting on the hood of your 2002 Chevy Impala, stopped and watched the sunset of the west for the last time at a rest stop in the middle of nowhere with your head hurting and eyes puffy. It was then when your phone buzzed. 

The cracked screen blinked brightly as you glanced over at it.

‘Please come home, we miss you - Nat’

Your mouth dried as you read the message. Your heart pounded in your ears as your eyes raced over the words over and over and over.

‘Please come home, we miss you’

‘Please come home, we miss you’

‘Please come home, we miss you’

‘Please come home, we miss you’

‘Please come home, we miss you’

‘Please come home, we miss-

Another message popped up then, interrupting your reading and making you jump. 

‘I promise it’s okay’

Your hands trembled. How Sugar got your number after you changed it twice to avoid your ex from the west was a mystery but it almost felt like divine intervention as you read it under the glow of the cotton candy clouds in the sky. 

‘Come home’

So you made the decision to go back. 

To go home. 

But this decision didn’t mean that you were leaving right away; for two months you practically lived in motel rooms and in your car, pacing back and forth for hours in parking lots, empty hallways, and tiny motel rooms at the thought of facing everyone again. Would they be upset? Angry? Sad? Would they hate you? Welcome you with open arms? Especially after abandoning them the way you did? 

Some nights were spent breathing deeply and slowly, desperately trying to get your heart to beat at a reasonable pace and other nights were spent with tears streaming down your cheeks. You almost even decided to just not come home at all; it felt like moving out of the country and assuming a new identity would be easier to deal with than going home.

But you got yourself together and after pawning everything you didn’t mind parting with for cash, you drove with a lighter trunk and a lighter heart across the country and eastward toward Illinois. 

Before you knew it, the giant ‘WELCOME TO ILLINOIS, THE LAND OF LINCOLN’ sign had appeared in your vision. It greeted you like an old friend, making your eyes sting and your chest tighten as your car zoomed by it. 

Two hours away from Chicago, your stomach would not stop growling so you decided to stop and grab a bite to eat. After settling your car at a nearby park next to an empty bench, you got off and focused a bit too much on grabbing your belongings to notice what your surroundings looked like. 

It wasn’t until you had sat down and ripped the bag of food open, when the smell of a salami and mozzarella sub wafted in the air, perking you up and prompting you to smile softly, that you glanced up. Over the dark green shrubs and still water of Peoria Lake were cotton candy clouds, nearly identical to the ones that you had seen while sitting on the hood of your car, terrified and hoping for a sign, any sign, that what you were doing was the right thing. 

Five minutes later, your car was back on the highway and speeding towards Chicago.

You stayed over at your parents’ house that night. They were overjoyed to see their child. Your mother cried, holding onto you as your father rubbed your back, comfortingly. Part of you wanted to, so badly, melt into their arms, but another part of you reminded you of the last time you were here. Despite the furniture being different and the decorations being rearranged, your body twitched as it remembered the exact emotions and position you were in when you got the news. 

The news that your boyfriend, Michael Berzatto, was found dead.

You couldn’t sleep that night, nor the next, or even the one after that. You got a combined total of about 15 hours of sleep in the past 72 hours, making you look and feel exhausted. But your mind was the only thing that wasn’t exhausted from replaying the memory over and over and over. 

About 5 days after you arrived, you got another message from Sugar. This time, a pit formed in your stomach as you read it.

‘Hey, it’s me again! Can you swing by The Beef tomorrow? I'm working there now and would love to see you. I’m sorry this is on such short notice but I've been crazy busy and I heard you were in town. I really want to see you and if you can’t do tomorrow, let me know so we can plan another day.

We really do miss you.’

You rock your jaw and put your phone down on the edge of the twin mattress you sat on, in your childhood bedroom. Right then, your mom gently knocks on your bedroom door before pushing it open.

“Have you talked to Natalie at all yet?” she said softly, clasping her hands together and leaning against the door frame.

You huffed and smiled weakly, of course your mom would mention something to her, that’s how she knew you were here. While your mom respected you doing things on your own time, she also knew that you needed a little push to make that connection. 

“Uhm… yea she just texted me. I uh, i might see her tomorrow at The Beef,” you murmured with a shaky breath. 

Thank god Sugar ended up being the one to text you instead of you texting her. 

Your mom smiled sweetly, “I think you should go, sweetheart. I know it seems scary but… I think it’s time you saw them…” 

Nodding, you turn and crawl up to the pillows of your bed. With a sigh, you lay down and close your eyes, exhausted. 

From your door frame, your mom quietly watched you and sighs softly. She slowly grabs your door and closes it behind her as she leaves. The hallway light goes off, leaving you and your thoughts alone in the pitch black dark.  

And here you were, a couple hours after you read her message, standing across The Beef on a cool Chicago night with the air nipping at your exposed skin as it blows by. You left in such a rush that you forgot to bring a hoodie and didn’t even bother to change from your thin pajama pants and loose old t-shirt. All you did was throw on your shoes and climb out your window, car keys clutched in your sweaty palm, like you used to do in high school to sneak off with Mikey. 

But those days seemed so far away now the same way that The Beef seemed so far away. It felt as if the trek across the street actually spanned thousands of miles and not a minute walk. 

So you sighed and turned around, walking down the sidewalk and back to your car. Who knew what time it was anymore, but you knew that you really needed to get rest tonight… you had a big day tomorrow. 

[lovelytsunoda]

shut up and drive // lando norris ( street racing au!)

summary: headcanons i wrote after watching the fast and the furious movies . . . enough said. lando is infatuated with the woman in the pink mustang who kicks his ass in a bristol street race.

pairing: street racer!lando norris x street racer! reader

the bristol street racing scene is intense

its run by a young blonde american using daddy's money to have a little bit of extra fun

and as far as everybody is concerned, the quadrant street racing team own the circuit, they're the undisputed champions

max fewtrell, ria bish and lando norris.

lando has been the reigning champion for three years running

he’s made over a billion british pounds via street racing

until y/n y/l/n appears on the scene

beating pierre gasly in her rookie race and winning five grand

and lando is intrigued, like any man would be

her hot pink mustang meanders into the clearing, bright spot lights shining down as she stops next to max fewtrells lime green maserati

“is that her?” lando asks quietly, watching the drivers side door creep open

she steps out, wearing white cowboy boots and skin-tight blue jeans, a shirt emblazoned in an old print of a chevy corvette tied up to show off her stomach, a small diamond glittering in her navel

heart shaped sunglasses over her eyes that she pushes up on to her forehead as she pulls a wad of cash from the pocket of her leather jacket

“oi sargeant, it’s not too late to cut a girl in, is it?”

logan grins, counting the cash she handed him as entry payment. “cutoff is in ten minutes, you made it just in time.”

"good. now, which of your boys wants to get his ass kicked next?"

pierre throws his hands up in surrender when logan shoots him a joking look.

"she wiped the floor with me last week, mate. i took one for the team."

"any takers?" logan proclaims, moving to stand on the roof of his mercedes

lando and max exchange a look before ria hits them both in the back of the head

"don't be stupid. either of you. if you get far enough tonight, you'll be racing for pinks." she scolds

"its not about the cars, ria. it's about the chase." lando grins, patting the hood of his mclaren before moving into the wider, open space near where y/n was standing

"i'll do it! i'll race you. what's the pot at, sargeant?"

logan grins. "let's see, you're a seasoned veteran, and she wiped the floor with gasly. how does seven grand sound?"

y/n grins, twirling her car keys in one hand. "what do you say, norris? american muscle up against whatever the fuck that euro-car you're driving is?"

"it's a good couple hundred horsepower, sweetheart. are you sure your poor old ford can handle it?"

"bring it on, toy boy."

they get behind the wheels of their cars, revving engines and showboating as lando's mclaren and her mustang draw side by side

"enough with the women dropping their bras to start a race, it's archaic!" y/n shouts, tapping her manicured nails against her glittery gear shift. 'give me a toy boy dropping his shirt to the ground, once i see some abs, that will really get this car moving!"

"give the lady what she wants!" ria shouts, clapping her hands together as max rolls his eyes

with a laugh and a grin, george russell steps out into the middle of the interlock road, fingers deftly unbuttoning his linen shirt

"now we're talking!" y/n shouts with a laugh and a grin, shooting lando a look out the corner of her eye

there was something sexy about what they were about to do

the cat and mouse game of a street race worth as much as this one was

and lando norris would be the first to admit that he was incredibly turned on by the idea of woman who drove a car as magnificent as the one parked next to him

a woman who spoke his language

"ready!" george shouts, shirt almost fully undone as women begin to cheer and whistle

"ready to lose, princess?" lando smirks, revving his engine as he grins at the driver next to him.

"ready to kick your ass, you mean." she grins back, toeing her boot-clad foot against the accelerator

"set!" the shirt his off george's body now, his arm raised in the air as he waves the white fabric in the air, toying with the minds of the two drivers in front of them

it was just a reflex game now

"go!" george shouts, throwing his shirt to the ground

the drivers are off in a flash, their fluorescent cars flying off into the night

her wrist moves deftly with the gearshift, shifting gears as she watched the speedometer sail over 100kmph as she takes the corner, shifting gears and yanking at the handbrake

she sails around the corner a fraction of a second faster than lando, winking at him as their windows line up, eyes meeting for a fraction of a second

and that's when lando knows that he's in love

righting their cars, lando less than half a second behind her but still not fast enough

they're neck and neck approaching the finish line, right across from where they started

she's watching his every movement carefully

biding her time until it's time to open that little canister of nos

she knows lando's too smart to use it too soon, so she just needs to hope that she presses that little red button faster than he can

she presses it quickly, both hands gripping the wheel as the speed throws her head against the headrest, hair whipping around her face

there's a gap of zero point four five seconds as she sails across the chalk-drawn finish line, yanking the handbrake and swerving to a stop

sitting with her body half out of the window, her ass resting where the wound-down window his

cheering as she drums her hands against the roof

lando comes to a much slower stop next to her

he's not even mad about losing

a glow in his eyes as he steps out of the mclaren

hands in jeans pockets as he ambles towards her

"impressive drive, sweetheart."

"yeah, it earned me seven grand." she grins, clambering out of the car. "your loss."

"seven grand is nothing. all i ask for in exchange is dinner."

y/n grins, reaching to shake his hand. "and if i say no?"

"then i'll have to get a rematch next week. and the week after until you say yes."

"i wouldn't be a very good rival if i ended up in your bed."

"well, you know what they say." lando grins seductively. "keep your friends close and your enemies closer."

she runs her tongue over her lips, eyebrows raised as she starts backing away towards everyone who's cheering her on,

"i'll see you next week, norris. we'll meet in the winner's bed."

and lando has never been so turned on in his life

he's also never looked forward to losing a race more.

[oldshowbiz]

The Dennis Miller Show (1992)

[lo-calistro]

Found some more stuff on the old GCC website. There's profiles of the main seven and faculty, and a writer's column called Greendale Weekly based on a lot of the episodes. The site doesn't go beyond Season 4 though.

You guys should check it out and, if you have the time, explore for yourself. It's a hidden gem of Community content. Or at least, what's left of the website. Not everything is recovered unfortunately, so I couldn't access the photos and videos that used to be on there because of Adobe Flash shutting down.

Character profiles:

Admin & Faculty profiles: