#Taylor x cs

[killiansprincss]

I look in peoples windows is Killian in the missing year constantly searching for Emma even if he knows she won’t be there

[imthebadguyyy]

whose afraid of little old me?

pairing : f1 drivers x reader

fandom : f1

series : the tortured poets department

synopsis : your journey as a female driver alongside the rest of the grid.

warnings : angst

a/n : first time writing a platonic drivers x reader! let me know what you think! :)

you don't get to tell me about sad..

The press room was buzzing with anticipation as the Formula 1 drivers filed in for the pre-race conference. As the only female driver on the grid, you were well aware of the extra attention you garnered, but you had grown used to it. Today, you were seated between Lewis Hamilton and Charles Leclerc, both of whom you had become close friends with during your time at Mercedes.

The questions started out as they always did: race strategies, car updates, and general banter about the upcoming Grand Prix. You handled them with the confidence and poise that had become your trademark. Then, a reporter from the back of the room stood up, his tone less than friendly

"Y/N," he began, "there's been a lot of talk about the difficulties you've faced as the only female driver on the grid. Some say you're out of your depth and that your results reflect that. How do you respond to the criticism that you don't belong here and that it's just too hard for you?"

You felt a surge of frustration. This wasn’t the first time you’d faced such pointed and unfair questions, but today, it stung more than usual. Before you could respond, you felt Lewis shift beside you, a silent show of support. Taking a deep breath, you looked the reporter in the eye.

"You don’t get to tell me about sad," you said, your voice steady and firm. "You don’t get to tell me about the difficulties I’ve faced or what I can handle. I’ve earned my place here just like every other driver on this grid, through talent, hard work, and perseverance. Criticism and doubt are part of the journey, but I’m here to stay."

The room fell silent, the weight of your words hanging in the air. For a moment, the reporter looked taken aback, but before he could say anything, Charles spoke up.

"Y/N has proven time and again that she belongs here," Charles said, his tone protective. "She’s one of the most dedicated and talented drivers I know, and it’s about time she gets the respect she deserves."

Lewis nodded, leaning forward to address the room. "We’re a team, and we support each other. Y/N has brought incredible strength and determination to Mercedes, and I have no doubt she’ll continue to achieve great things. If anyone here thinks otherwise, they clearly haven’t been paying attention."

The support from your fellow drivers warmed your heart, and you saw nods of agreement from others around the room. Even drivers from rival teams like Max Verstappen and Lando Norris were giving you supportive looks.

The reporter, clearly outnumbered and outmatched, mumbled a quick thank you and sat down. The rest of the press conference went smoothly, with more respectful and genuine questions.

As you left the stage, Lewis put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "You handled that perfectly, Y/N. Don't let anyone make you doubt yourself."

Charles grinned, giving you a thumbs-up. "We’ve got your back, always."

Walking out of the press room with your head held high, you felt a renewed sense of determination. You knew the road ahead wouldn’t be easy, but with the support of your teammates and fellow drivers, you were ready to face any challenge that came your way.

nothing makes me feel more alive...

The roar of the crowd at Silverstone was deafening as you took the final corner, the checkered flag waving wildly in the air. This was it. You were about to win your first Grand Prix, and not just any race—it was Silverstone, the home of British motorsport.

"Y/N, you’ve done it! You’ve won the British Grand Prix!" your race engineer shouted over the radio, his voice barely audible over the cacophony of celebration.

Tears of joy streamed down your face as you crossed the finish line. "Oh my God! We did it! We did it! Thank you, thank you so much!" you screamed, unable to contain your excitement.

As you brought the car to a stop in Parc Fermé, the realization of your achievement hit you full force. You had won. You had really done it. Climbing out of the car, you were immediately surrounded by your jubilant team, all eager to celebrate this historic moment with you. You jumped into their arms, laughter and cheers filling the air.

Lewis, who had finished third, approached with a wide grin. "Incredible job, Y/N! Welcome to the winners' circle," he said, pulling you into a tight hug.

Max, who had taken second place, clapped you on the back. "Amazing race! You deserve this," he said with genuine admiration.

The podium ceremony felt surreal. As you stood on the top step, the anthem playing, you looked out over the sea of fans cheering your name. You felt a wave of pride and accomplishment wash over you. When the national anthem ended, you picked up the bottle of champagne, the weight of it solid and reassuring in your hands.

Lewis and Max joined you, and the three of you shared a look before simultaneously popping the corks and spraying each other with champagne. The cold, fizzy liquid drenched you, but you couldn’t stop laughing, your joy infectious.

Grabbing the microphone for the post-race interview, you took a moment to compose yourself before speaking. "This is the best moment of my life. Nothing makes me feel more alive than being out there on the track, pushing myself to the limit, and achieving something I’ve dreamed about since I was a little girl. Thank you to my team, to the fans, and to everyone who believed in me. This is just the beginning."

The crowd erupted in applause, their cheers echoing in your ears as you continued to celebrate with your team and fellow drivers. This victory was not just a personal triumph, but a statement to everyone watching: you belonged here, and you were just getting started.

As you left the podium, still grinning from ear to ear, you were greeted by more hugs and congratulations from your team. Toto Wolff, your team principal, pulled you into a warm embrace. "I knew you had it in you," he said, his voice full of pride. "This is only the beginning."

Walking away from the podium, champagne-soaked and elated, you felt an overwhelming sense of fulfillment. You had proven to yourself and the world that you could do it. And as you looked out at the sea of faces cheering for you, you knew that nothing could ever take this moment away from you.

so i leap from the gallows and i levitate down your street..

The aftermath of the Spanish Grand Prix was a cacophony of disbelief, exhilaration, and redemption. For weeks, you had been the subject of harsh criticism from pundits and commentators, their scathing remarks suggesting you were a failure, a shame to the sport. They doubted your abilities, questioning your place on the grid. The words stung, but they also fueled a fire within you that blazed brighter than ever.

"So, I leap from the gallows," you whispered to yourself as you took the final corner, the finish line in sight. The car beneath you was an extension of your will, each turn, each acceleration a defiant answer to the doubters. You crossed the line first, your heart pounding as you realized what you had just achieved.

"Y/N, you did it! You won the Spanish Grand Prix!" your race engineer's voice crackled over the radio, bursting with pride and excitement.

"I did it," you repeated, the weight of your victory sinking in. "We did it!"

The cool-down lap was a blur of tears and joy. You had proven them wrong. The people who had criticized you, who had doubted your skill and determination, were silenced by the roar of your engine and the unwavering support of your team.

As you pulled into Parc Fermé, the roar of the crowd was deafening. Stepping out of the car, you were immediately enveloped in the arms of your team, their cheers and tears mingling with your own. You felt a sense of triumph that was almost surreal, a weight lifting off your shoulders.

Carlos Sainz, who had finished second, approached with a proud smile. "Incredible drive, Y/N. You showed them all," he said, pulling you into a congratulatory hug.

Oscar Piastri, who had finished third, hugged you tight"That was one hell of a race. Well done," he said, his voice affectionate.

The podium ceremony was a whirlwind of emotions. Standing on the top step, the anthem playing in the background, you felt a sense of vindication. The crowd’s cheers were a testament to your hard work and resilience.

When the time came to spray the champagne, you did so with a vengeance, soaking Carlos and Oscar as they laughed and joined in the celebration. The cold spray was a refreshing reminder of the moment you had seized, the victory you had earned.

During the post-race interview, you held the microphone firmly, looking out at the sea of fans and reporters. "For those who doubted me," you began, your voice steady and strong, "this is my answer. So I leap from the gallows, and I levitate down your street. I've faced the criticisms, the doubts, and I’ve come out on top. This win is for my team, for my supporters, and for everyone who believes that dreams are worth fighting for."

The crowd erupted into applause, their cheers a resounding affirmation of your triumph. As you left the stage, still soaked in champagne and adrenaline, you felt lighter than air. You had not only proven your critics wrong, but you had also proven something to yourself: that you were capable of greatness.

Back in the garage, Toto greeted you with a proud smile. "You were phenomenal out there. This is just the beginning," he said, his voice filled with conviction.

Walking through the paddock, the looks of respect and admiration from fellow drivers and team members were a stark contrast to the doubts and criticisms you had faced. You had leapt from the metaphorical gallows and soared, showing everyone that you were here to stay.

As you drove out of the circuit later that evening, the streets of Barcelona seemed to glow with a new light. The city's energy matched your own, vibrant and unstoppable. You had faced the gallows and emerged victorious, levitating down the streets of triumph and possibility. And you knew, deep in your heart, that this was just the beginning of an incredible journey

whose afraid of little old me? you should be...

The glitz and glamour of the post-race party in Monaco was in full swing, with drivers, team principals, and VIP guests mingling in celebration of another thrilling Grand Prix. You were enjoying the night, surrounded by the camaraderie of your fellow drivers and the electric atmosphere of the event.

As you made your way through the crowd, chatting with Carlos and Lando, a random guy who clearly wasn’t part of the usual racing crowd approached. He had a smug look on his face, his steps unsteady from one too many drinks.

"Hey, isn’t this the famous female driver?" he said loudly, drawing the attention of those around him. "Nice of you to join us, sweetheart. Shouldn’t you be somewhere polishing your car or something? Or maybe you’re just here because you look good in a dress."

His words were met with a few awkward chuckles from those who didn’t know how to react. You felt a surge of anger but kept your composure. Taking a deep breath, you stepped closer, your eyes locking onto his.

"You know," you began, your voice calm but laced with steel, "it’s funny you mention polishing cars. Considering you probably have never even seen the inside of one that’s been on a racetrack, I’d say your expertise on the subject is pretty limited. As for my looks, let’s just say I'd rather be known for my talent than for crashing parties and making snarky remarks to people I don’t know."

The room fell silent, the tension palpable. The guy’s smirk faltered, replaced by a look of surprise and irritation. Before he could respond, you continued.

"I’ve worked hard to get where I am. Every race, every victory, is a testament to my skill and dedication. You can try to demean me all you want, but it won’t change the fact that I’ve earned my place here. And by the way, the only reason you’re even noticed right now is because you’re making a scene. Maybe next time, you should think before you speak."

A ripple of laughter and applause broke out among the onlookers. The guy’s face reddened with embarrassment and anger, but he had no retort. He muttered something under his breath and turned away.

Lando, who had been watching the exchange with an amused grin, stepped forward. "You should be afraid of her," he said to the group, his tone light but sincere. "She’s not just fast on the track, she’s got the sharpest tongue in the paddock."

You smiled at Lando, appreciating his support. "Thanks, Lando. Sometimes people need a reminder."

Carlos nodded, clapping you on the back. "You handled that perfectly. That guy didn’t know what hit him."

With a sweet, innocent expression, you tilted your head slightly and asked, "Who's afraid of little old me?"

Carlos turned to the retreating guy, his tone serious and unwavering. "You should be."

The random guy's pace quickened as he disappeared into the crowd, leaving you, Carlos, and Lando laughing and feeling victorious. The atmosphere lightened, and you found yourself surrounded by friends and allies who respected and supported you. The sting of the random guy’s words faded quickly, replaced by the warmth of genuine camaraderie. You knew that the road ahead would have its challenges, but moments like this reminded you that you were more than capable of facing them head-on.

Later, as you stood on a balcony overlooking the glittering Monaco skyline, Lando joined you, offering a glass of champagne. "To standing up for yourself," he toasted.

You clinked glasses, feeling a renewed sense of determination. "To proving them wrong," you replied, taking a sip and savoring the sweet taste of victory and vindication.

is it a wonder i broke, let's hear one more joke...

The opulent ballroom of the Monaco casino was alight with the energy of a sponsorship party, a glittering event where drivers mingled with sponsors, team principals, and celebrities. You were making your way through the crowd, putting on a brave face despite the whispers and stares. It was supposed to be a night of celebration, but for you, it was quickly turning into a test of endurance.

One of the sponsors, a man named Richard, seemed to have taken a special interest in making snide remarks at your expense. His laughter echoed through the room as he made yet another joke about you. "Oh, look, it’s the token female driver! How many races did you have to finish to get this seat? Or is it more about how you look in the team’s gear?" he jeered, his eyes gleaming with cruel amusement.

The people around him chuckled awkwardly, unsure of how to respond. You forced a smile, trying to brush it off, but inside, you felt your confidence crumbling. You excused yourself, mumbling something about needing to use the restroom, and quickly made your way to the nearest bathroom.

Once inside, you locked the door behind you and let the tears fall. The pressure, the constant scrutiny, the never-ending need to prove yourself—it all came crashing down. You sank to the floor, sobbing quietly, feeling utterly alone in that moment.

Unbeknownst to you, Lewis Hamilton had been watching from a distance. He had seen the way Richard had been treating you all night and noticed the moment you fled. Concerned, he made his way to the bathroom, hesitating only for a moment before gently knocking on the door.

"Y/N? It’s Lewis. Are you okay?" he called softly.

Hearing his voice, you tried to pull yourself together, wiping at your tears. "I’m fine, Lewis. Just… give me a moment."

But Lewis wasn’t about to leave you alone. He opened the door slowly, stepping inside and closing it behind him. When he saw you sitting on the floor, tears streaming down your face, his heart broke. He crouched down beside you, his expression one of deep empathy.

"Hey," he said gently, his voice soft and soothing. "I’m here. Talk to me."

You looked up at him, your vision blurred by tears. "It’s just… it’s too much sometimes, you know? The jokes, the comments… I’m trying so hard, but it feels like it’s never enough."

Lewis reached out, taking your hand in his. "You are more than enough, Y/N. You are an incredible driver and an even more incredible person. Don’t let anyone, especially not some ignorant sponsor, make you feel otherwise."

His words brought fresh tears to your eyes, but this time they were tears of gratitude. "Thank you, Lewis," you whispered, your voice trembling.

He sat down beside you, pulling you into a comforting embrace. "I know it’s hard. I’ve been there, too. But you have to remember why you’re here. You’ve earned your place on the grid. You’ve proven yourself time and time again. And you’ve got so many people who believe in you, including me."

You buried your face in his shoulder, taking comfort in his presence. "I just don’t know how much more of this I can take," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.

Lewis pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes. "You are stronger than you think. And you don’t have to face this alone. We’re a team, remember? We’ve got your back."

His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, easing the pain and fear. You took a deep breath, feeling a bit more grounded. "Thanks, Lewis. I don’t know what I’d do without you."

He smiled, brushing a tear from your cheek. "You’ll never have to find out. Now, how about we go back out there and show them what you’re made of?"

With his support, you felt a renewed sense of determination. You nodded, allowing him to help you to your feet. As you both left the bathroom, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you weren’t facing them alone. You had friends, allies, and a team who believed in you, and that made all the difference.

i was tame, i was gentle, till the circus life made me mean..

The press conference room was packed, the atmosphere buzzing with anticipation. You sat between two fellow drivers, trying to maintain your composure as the questions came one after another. Lately, the questions directed at you had become more personal and offensive, straying far from your performance on the track.

As the reporters took turns, a journalist from the back raised his hand and was given the microphone. He stood up, a smug look on his face. "Y/N, there's been a lot of curiosity among fans about what kind of underwear you wear under your race suit. Care to enlighten us?"

The room fell silent, the air thick with tension. Your heart pounded in your chest as you felt a mix of anger and disbelief. This was the final straw.

You leaned forward, your eyes blazing. "Are you serious? I'm here to talk about my performance on the track, not my underwear. The fact that you think it's appropriate to ask me such a disrespectful and invasive question speaks volumes about your professionalism—or lack thereof."

The reporter's face turned red as he tried to stammer a response, but you cut him off, your voice steady and strong. "I have worked incredibly hard to earn my place here, just like every other driver on this grid. I will not tolerate being reduced to such trivial and sexist remarks. If you can't treat me with the same respect you show my male colleagues, then you have no place in this room."

You stood up abruptly, the microphone falling silent as you walked out of the press conference, your head held high. The room was stunned into silence, the other reporters unsure how to react.

Lewis, who was sitting beside you, took the microphone next. "That was completely unacceptable," he said, his voice calm but firm. "Y/N is a talented driver who deserves respect. It's disgraceful that she has to deal with questions like that."

Carlos, seated on your other side, nodded in agreement. "We are here to discuss our careers and our performance, not to entertain inappropriate and sexist questions. Y/N handled that with grace, and she has our full support."

The room remained silent, the gravity of the situation sinking The other drivers on the stage exchanged looks of solidarity, making it clear that they stood with you.

Backstage, you leaned against the wall, taking deep breaths to calm yourself. The door opened, and Lewis and Carlos walked in, their expressions filled with concern and support.

"Hey," Lewis said softly, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "You did the right thing. That was completely out of line."

Carlos nodded, giving you a small, encouraging smile. "You handled it perfectly. We're all behind you."

You smiled weakly, grateful for their support. "Thanks, guys. I just couldn't take it anymore."

Lewis shook his head, his eyes filled with determination. "No one should have to deal with that. We're going to make sure it doesn't happen again."

Feeling a surge of gratitude and strength from their words, you nodded. "Together, we can make a difference."

As you returned to the paddock, you felt a renewed sense of purpose. You knew that you had allies who respected and supported you, and you were determined to continue proving yourself on and off the track. The road ahead would still have its challenges, but you were ready to face them head-on, with your head held high and your team by your side.

then say they didn't do it to hurt me, but what if they did?...

The news hit you like a freight train. Mercedes had decided to drop you from the team for the next season. The decision came shortly after Lewis announced his departure to Ferrari, leaving you feeling isolated and abandoned. You had poured your heart and soul into your racing career, and now it felt like the ground had been ripped out from under you.

The paddock was a whirlwind of activity as the season drew to a close, but you felt like a ghost moving through it. Every smile, every cheer, felt like a reminder of what you were losing. You tried to put on a brave face, but inside, you were struggling.

One evening, after a particularly tough day, you found yourself wandering aimlessly through the paddock. Your thoughts were a chaotic mix of anger, sadness, and confusion. You ended up in a quiet corner, away from the prying eyes and constant noise, trying to hold yourself together.

Charles noticed you standing there, your shoulders slumped and your expression distant. He approached you cautiously, his concern evident. "Y/N, are you okay?"

You looked up at him, your eyes brimming with tears. "They dropped me, Charles. Mercedes just dropped me. And with Lewis leaving too... I feel so alone."

Charles stepped closer, his expression sympathetic. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I know this must be incredibly hard for you."

You let out a shaky breath, trying to keep your composure. "Why did they do this, Charles? After everything, why now?"

Charles gently placed a hand on your shoulder. "They didn't do it to hurt you. Sometimes teams make decisions that are hard to understand, but it's not always about us personally."

His words were meant to comfort, but they only made the pain sharper. "But what if they did?" you whispered, your voice breaking. "What if they did it to hurt me?"

The dam broke, and the tears you had been holding back spilled over. Charles pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as you cried. His embrace was warm and comforting, offering a safe space to release the torrent of emotions you had been keeping inside.

"It's okay, let it out," Charles murmured softly, his voice soothing. "You're not alone, Y/N. We're all here for you."

You clung to him, the weight of your grief and fear pouring out. "I gave everything to this team," you sobbed. "I don't know what to do now."

Charles held you tighter, his heart aching for you. "I know it's hard, but this isn't the end. You're an incredible driver, and there are other teams out there that would be lucky to have you. Don't let this define you."

His words, filled with sincerity and belief, began to cut through the fog of despair. You took a deep, shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. "Thank you, Charles. I just... I just needed to hear that."

He pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes with a gentle smile. "You're stronger than you know, Y/N. And whatever happens next, you're going to come out of this even stronger."

As the night grew darker, you found a glimmer of hope in Charles's words and his unwavering support. You knew the road ahead would be challenging, but you also knew you weren't alone. With friends like Charles by your side, and the rest of the grid, you could face whatever came next. And as you stood there, taking comfort in his presence, you began to believe that maybe, just maybe, you could rise from this setback and prove everyone wrong.

I want to snarl and show you just how disturbed this has made me...

The atmosphere in the Mercedes factory was tense as Toto Wolff stepped up to the podium, his expression somber. You stood among your colleagues, your heart pounding in your chest as you waited for the announcement. Deep down, you knew what was coming, but hearing it confirmed in front of the entire team was another blow altogether.

"Toto, are we ready to go live?" a technician whispered, adjusting the cameras to capture the moment.

Toto nodded, his gaze scanning the room. "Yes, let's begin."

The room fell silent as the live broadcast began. Toto cleared his throat, his voice steady but heavy with emotion. "Good afternoon, everyone. I come to you today with news that is difficult for all of us to hear."

You felt a lump form in your throat as you braced yourself for what was to come. Toto continued, his words echoing through the factory.

"After much consideration and evaluation, we have made the decision to part ways with one of our drivers," he announced, his tone measured. "It is never an easy decision to make, and it is one that we do not take lightly."

The room seemed to hold its breath as Toto paused, the weight of his words hanging in the air. You glanced around, noting the somber expressions on the faces of your colleagues. They were your teammates, your friends, and the thought of leaving them behind felt like a knife to the heart.

"And so, it is with a heavy heart that I must announce that Y/N will be leaving the team at the end of the season," Toto said, his voice faltering slightly. "We want to thank her for her dedication, her hard work, and her contributions to the team. She will always be a part of the Mercedes family, and we wish her all the best in her future endeavors."

The room erupted into a mix of stunned silence and whispered conversations. You stood there, trying to process the news, trying to swallow down the bitter taste of disappointment and betrayal. It was all you could do to keep from exploding in anger, from snarling and lashing out at the injustice of it all.

As Toto stepped down from the podium, you felt a hand on your shoulder. Turning, you met the sympathetic gaze of your teammate, Lewis. His eyes were filled with understanding and compassion, a silent acknowledgment of the pain you were feeling.

But as much as you wanted to scream, to demand answers, you knew that now was not the time. You had to swallow down your anger, to keep your composure in front of your colleagues. You had to be the bigger person, to leave with dignity and grace.

So you stood there, your jaw clenched, your fists tight at your sides, as the reality of the situation sank in. You would leave Mercedes behind, but you would carry the memories, the victories, and the lessons with you. And as you walked out of the factory for the last time, you vowed to channel your anger and disappointment into fuel for the next chapter of your racing career.

you wouldnt last an hour in the asylum where they raised me..

The news spread like wildfire through the paddock: you had been signed by Red Bull Racing for the upcoming season. As you made your way through the bustling crowd, you could feel the weight of judgmental eyes boring into you. People whispered behind your back, calling you a traitor, questioning your loyalty to your former team.

But you held your head high, a smirk playing at the corner of your lips. You had made your decision, and you weren't about to let the opinions of others sway you. After all, this was Formula 1—a cutthroat world where alliances shifted like the wind, and loyalty was a luxury few could afford.

As you approached the garage, you heard the murmurs grow louder. "Can you believe she signed with Red Bull? What a traitor."

You stopped in your tracks, turning to face the source of the comments. It was one of your former colleagues, his expression filled with disdain. "You're a traitor, Y/N. How could you do this to us?"

You met his gaze head-on, your eyes flashing with defiance. "It's a cutthroat game," you replied coolly. "You wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me."

The words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the ruthless world you had grown up in. You had fought tooth and nail to get to where you were, and you weren't about to apologize for seizing an opportunity to further your career.

Turning on your heel, you continued toward the Red Bull garage, feeling a sense of satisfaction wash over you. You may have ruffled some feathers, but you had made the right choice for yourself. And as you entered the garage, surrounded by your new teammates and friends who had stood by your side through it all, you knew that you were exactly where you were meant to be.

that I'm fearsome, and I'm wretched, and I'm wrong..

You sat in your motorhome, scrolling through Instagram after the chaotic Monza Grand Prix. The race had been eventful, to say the least, with a tense moment between you and Hulkenberg that had sparked controversy among fans and pundits alike.

As you scrolled through your feed, you couldn't escape the barrage of comments and messages directed at you. People were blaming you for the incident, calling you fearsome, wretched, and wrong. It felt like the weight of the world was pressing down on your shoulders, suffocating you with guilt and frustration.

But you refused to let the negativity consume you. Taking a deep breath, you opened the camera app on your phone and snapped a quick selfie. In the photo, you wore a determined expression, your eyes flashing with defiance.

You typed out a caption to accompany the photo, your fingers moving with purpose. "I'm fearsome, wretched, and I'm wrong," you wrote, the words a defiant declaration of self-acceptance and resilience.

With a sense of satisfaction, you hit the share button, knowing that your message would reach far and wide. It was a reminder to yourself—and to the world—that you were not defined by one moment, one mistake. You were a force to be reckoned with, flaws and all, and you weren't afraid to own it.

a/n : first ever platonic driver story! should I look into a romantic angle with anyone? any suggestions etc would be highly appreciated! happy reading and much love! as always, likes, reblogs, comments etc are always appreciated ❤️

TAGS

f1 : @ivegotparticulartaste @moon-enthusiast @superlegend216 @theonly1outof-a-billion

charles : - @chanshintien @eternalharry @janeholt @magicalcowboyarbiter @oneafterdark @leclerc13 @moon-enthusiast @crlsummer @superlegend216 @electrobutterfly @formula1mount @f1lover20 @livsters @inkfable @ssararuffoni

ttpd series - @ateezseonghwanot @khaylin27 @imgondeletedis @jj-ever-lovely-jewel @stylestastic

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[neptunesize]

𝐓𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐒𝐮𝐧

A Susan Pevensie playlist

⟡ Queen of Peace - Florence + The Machine

⟡ Meet Me in the Woods - Lord Huron

⟡ Movement - Hozier

⟡ Body and Mind - girl in red

and more! Listen here

a playlists with 4 moods, love, angst, empowerment and redemption 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

[thatgreenthingy]

Has nobody noticed how "The Great War" fits the entire Captive Prince trilogy to a Tee. Like ughhhh I WILL be deluding myself thinking Taylor wrote "The Great War" with Capri in mind!!!!!!!

[boriselgato]

[shakirawastaken]

dsmp if... you were a romance trope

i got inspiration (sapnap, dream, george, karl, quackiy, wilbur) 

sapnap (hockey x figure skater): - im in the middle of heartbreaker rn and SHUT UP - i LOVE THIS TROPE - IM NOT EVEN A FIGURE SKATER I DO TAEKWONDO BUT I STILL FROTH OVER THIS SHIT - and then in addition to that one tommyinnit is a figure skater and everyone else is on a hockey team “ice these hurts” or smt h like that - i love this trope. - anyway i think that this trope comes hand in hand with enemies to lovers - his hockey team and ur figure skating group are at the same winter sports competiton - and you have to share a rink - booooo - so everyday you end practice with the sight of a bunch of hockey buffs roughhousing in the stands, waiting for you to finish - and everyday a certain brunette one sneers and smirks at you as you walk off the ice - “had a nice practice ice queen/king?” he asks you teasingly - “shut up, yeti” you mutter back gratingly as you bump your shoulder into his build as you pass him - and he comes up with a new one everyday - and you quip right back at him, unphased - one day, he comes into practice early just to spite you - what he wasn’t expecting is to see how good you actually were on the ice - he sat there like “ :O” and just watche dyou glide across the ice with what seemed like barely any effort - and he watched how passionate you were in your craft and the dance - and bro was whipped right then and there - so that day as you were leaving he said “you were amazing out there” and it took u jumpscared - you were like “no insult today?” - and he was like “dang, didnt know u liked them that much ;) but not today, not for something as beautiful as that” - and i think you can guess where it went from there... :)

 dream (ceo and employee romance):  - AKAIAKAKAHAKH TELL ME YOU SEE THE VISION - i mean hes a ceo alr so its like one step in the door you know - anyway hes a ceo - bro wears those fancy ass suits everyday and has like a wine cellar mini fridge shit thing in his office  - any way you pull up to his headquarters one day for like an interview and you were so fucking nervous  - you ran into him in the elevator (and no clue who he was) - and you basically vented to him for the 30 second elevator ride before scurrying off to your interview - bro didnt even get dreams name or anything - he kinda just smiled and wished you well as you ran away  - he thought you were so cute  - and you thought dude was hot as fuck  - anyway you got the JOB!! LETS GOO - the next day, your supervisor is like taking u around showing u the works - ....and you meet the ceo - its dream - and youre like :0 and he’s like  *smirk wink* ;) “hey” - and youre like “well fuck hes the ceo i cant be in love with him” - and you avoid him - but he makes it his life’s mission to get on ur radar - in the break room, in ur cubicle, in the cafeteria, in the parking lot man is ON YOU LIKE A MOTH TO A LIGHT - eventually he convinces you to go to fancy dinner - and WOW hes paying?? so that shit was FIREEEE - fancy wagyu steak and 102379182 year old wine i mean cmon - it was good ok - he asks you out after dinner and assures u ur job wont be at risk and everything - ba da bing ba da boom  - now youre dating happily and he spoils the FUCK outta you  - lmk if you want this one as a big fic with dialogue

george (neighbors): - tell me why whenever i have my delulu daydreams with george he’s always a neighbor - very much boy next door vibes - omg HES YOUR COLLEGE ROOMMATE NEXT DOOR - stoppppp - on move in day he pulls up with his family and u with urs and youre like - “hi ! nice to meet you im so exicted to move in!” and bros like “same!” - sometimes hes loud bc hes talking to his friends but you dont mind - hes a cs major and ur  whatever u want major - one day you decided to start singing  rlly loud while cleaning - ur singing taylor swift - and then george could hear you from the room next door to yours - so he writes up a little post it note that was like “loved the concert! when’s the next one?” and stuck in on your door - you found it and started mad blushign - you had a crush on him since day one awwww - anyways you two started communicating via post it notes and songs played loudly through the walls <3 - till one day you hear boyfriend by big time rush - and then you play girlfriend by avril lavigne back - and then he slips you a post it note under the door and you open the door before you could read it  - and its an unspoken like thing that you start dating - its so romantic how you can saw you guys starting dating because of taylor swift !!

quackity (academic rivals): - DO NOT GET ME STARTED ON THIS TROPE IT BRINGS ME LIFE ALRIGHT - alright - two law school students FIGHTING IT OUT ACADEMICALLY - you guys met in ur freshman year english class or some shit - clashed together in a discussion group - and its been game on since then - your texts with each other are flaunting texts - “hey alex, guess who got a 97 on the last midterm?” - “guess who got a 99 ;)” - over time, the texts started getting more and more hostile - people started to thing you two actually hated one another’s guts  - but in reality it was more for the thrill - but this continued throughout your law school careers - and you both become successful lawyers in the end!! - and when the headmaster calls you both into his office and says - “youre both valedictorian! congrats! you have to give a speech together” - well its like all the hatred faded away - you grinned and cheezed at each other before giving each other the biggest hug ever - so you both wrote a speech together - and soon the day of graduation came - and q goes at the end “i wouldn’t be here without the person who motivated me through it all, so thank you (y/n)” and youre like “hey man *sob* wtf *sob” - and you kiss him on the cheek and cheer to all the graduates  - after the ceremony he catches up to you in the parking lot, grabbing your wrist before you could go off with ur family - and blurts out word soup - and ur like what - and hes like “i really like you, and law school wouldn’t have been the same without you. can we be more than friends?” - and youre like “duhhh” and kiss him right there karl (best friends to lovers): - YOU ARE IN LOVE BY TAYLOR SWIFT  - that is the song for this SCENARIO - you two met when you were little kids in like first grade - your friends werent there on that day so you hung out with each other - hooked to the other since then and there - it was always “karl and you” and “you and karl” - you came as a packaged deal - through ups and downs you were there together - you graduated high school together and were going to the same college together now - while karl barely got into any romantic relationships, you seemed to be going through a few of them  - you were desperate for a love connection and honestly i aint blaming u - one day after a horrible date he came over to your dorm and u had an impromptu sleepover - you were in karls old shirt and some pajama pants and he was in his pajamas - and you two were just watching a movie together - before he turns to you abruptly, and you turn to look at him - and he’s like “you’re my best friend”  - and you saw a switch flip in him - since then, the dynamic between you two changed (for the better) - you became more flirty more touchy  - you started to act like you were a couple more and more - one day you saw him open his wallet to pull out his card  - and u saw that he has a picture of the two of you in his wallet - and then you knew that he was it for you - you ask him out that night - and hes so happy hes picking you up and spinning you around - <3 wilbur (musician x fan trope): - okay this is inspired by those tik toks that are like “did you see the way he looked at me” and its harry styles staring and eyeing down a fan in the audience like YES - and he’s a musician so it fits! - imagine lovejoy is like a HUGE HUGE Band so maybe this is in the future - anyways you and ur friend go to a lovejoy concert - for the sake of the story, youre not that big a fan of lovejoy just familiar with hits like sex sells and one day - the whole time ur friend is like “theyre so good hes so good its all so good” - you two end up a few rows from barricade  - and you and ur friend start screaming it up as you should - youre not oblivious to the way the lead singer keeps looking over in your direction, winking and smiling - imagine a sweaty, singing wilbur glancing over at you during sex sells and giving you a smile as he rasps out “you know sex sells i know that” - brb ascending to heaven - anyway a time comes when he stops to speak to the audience - he wastes no time - he struts over to your side of the stage and points at you  - “what’s your name?” - and you scream it at him - “what a lovely name!” - the crowd cheers - “ahre you single?” he asks with a grin on his face - the grin grows when u nod at him - “give me ur number!?” he asks and you nod at him as ur friend is dying next to you - he gestures u and ur friend to the front of the stage by the barricade  - and he passes you a marker and make syou WRITE YOUR NUMBER ON HIS GUITAR OR HIS SHIRT OR SOMETHING - oh yeahh go you go you thank yoU! let me know if you want any of these to become a bigger story/imagine and LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT A PART 2 WITH OTHER PEOPLE :D reblogs appreciated

[ffeburaru]

❝𝓶anners maketh man - `` ( 扬扬 )

yangyang bf drabbles

warnings. pure fluff , yang² being my one & only , some chinese!!

pairings. yang² x gn!reader

wc. 263

a/n. happy thanksgiving everyone!! pls be safe & enjoy your holiday!! tysm for 100 smth likes on my last jiung fic!! I rlly like doing underratedish idols cs they need the recognition. also, my pfp looks like taylor swift when it’s supposed to be heejin…PLUS i am learning chinese, so some will be added. “亲爱的” means darling or dearest. ok enjoy the short drabble pls.

“亲爱的, c’mere,” you heard from yangyang’s ‘dungeon’. You hadn’t heard from him the whole day. He was cooped up in his little gaming room, Hendery on the other side of the phone, buttons clacking profusely and the sound of frustrated groans and laughter. He literally only got up to use the bathroom; which was three times that whole day. So when he called you, it was a shocker. But a sorta good thing.

You poked your head into his gaming room, the illuminated light from his computer screen hitting you like a brick. He was way too focused on whatever the hell he was playing to notice that you were there, even if he did call you. “Yangyang.” You said firmly. It took a couple of his names to be called for him to finally look up, his mouth slightly. A soft smile creeped up his lips as he patted his leg. You closed the door behind you, sitting on the leg that he patted.

His arm instinctively snaked around your waist, a soft kiss pressed against your hair. “I’m sorry for being in here all day,” he muttered quietly, squeezing your waist. You slowly lean into his touch, your head slightly resting on his shoulder. “It’s alright,” you whisper back. His soft smile returned, nuzzling his face into your hair, which got a little giggle out of you.

His hand was on his computer mouse still but his arm was still around you. You two were talking the entire time. About what? No clue, but all we know is that it was loving.

[lavenderlemonrose]

I’m looking for new mutuals, so I figured I’d make one of these posts and see if it got me anywhere. I’ve been on tumblr officially for close to four years, but I’ve been lurking for probably five years before that. My blog is a mix of a Lot of fandoms, but I’ll list my biggest ones:

- star wars (original and prequel trilogies mostly)

- taylor swift

- all for the game

- a darker shade of magic

- captive prince/dark rise/fence/anything by cs pacat

- throne of glass/acotar/crescent city

- shadowhunters (mostly infernal devices and some dark artifices)

- the raven cycle

- if we were villains

- six of crows/shadow & bone

- bridgerton

- castlevania

- percy jackson

- marvel comics and mcu (mostly black widow, uncanny x-men, and dazzler)

- I’m also currently working my way through the west wing, the vampire diaries, and black sails, although I haven’t finished any of them

I also have a full list of fandoms on my blog! I’m pretty shy, but I rly want to find more ppl to talk to on here, so if you reach out I’ll be thrilled and probably won’t stop talking to you.

(also if we’re already mutuals and you wanna reach out please do!!)

[make-me-imagine]

Thinking of You

Prompt/Plot: “Receiving flowers but you don't know who they are from.“

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Gn!Reader

Requested By: Anonymous (left over from Valentines Day)

Words: 552

-

To say you had been stressed was an understatement. Every day brought new problems that you had to solve.

Walking towards your office, you ran through all the things you had to do today. Other SHIELD agents walked briskly down the hall, everyone with their own jobs and own problems.

Opening your office door, you stopped mid-step as you spotted a bouquet of flowers on your desk.

You blinked a few times as you walked over to your desk, eyes not leaving the flowers. Setting your bag down, you picked the bouquet up and turned it around in your hands.

Grabbing the card you read the printed text.

'I hope this brightens your day.'

Turning the card over, you noticed no name was left, and your chest swelled with curiosity. Was it really for you? And from who?

Smelling the flowers, you found a smile spreading across your face as your heart fluttered in your chest. Looking out into the hall, you left your office and walked across to the assistant desk.

"Taylor, did you see who left these in my office?"

Looking up, the assistant eyed the flowers with a curios gaze before shaking their head "I didn't see anyone come in with them, or go into your office."

You hummed softly, curiosity rising. Going back into your office, you took a few moments to put the flowers in a vase on your desk. The stressful thoughts of your busy morning leaving, if only for a short time.

As you got on with your day, you worked thoroughly and quietly. Every once and a while your eyes rose up to the flowers perched on the desk. Each time, your heart fluttered, as you wondered who left them for you.

Hearing your phone buzz, you flipped it over, seeing a message from Steve. Your heart fluttered again as your ears burned a little hotter as you read the message.

'Did you like your flowers?'

'You left them?'

'Yes.'

'They're beautiful. Thank you Steve. But, what are they for?'

'I was thinking of you, and how stressed you've been, and I thought it might brighten your day, just a little.'

'More than a little. Thank you.'

As you pressed send, you looked back at the flowers. Steve had been thinking of you? That alone caused your heart to pound heavily in your chest.

Letting out a deep breath, you told yourself to think nothing of it. He was your friend, and he was kind, that was all.

Looking down at your phone as another message came through, your breath caught in your throat.

'I was also hoping you might be free for dinner tonight?'

'I'm free. Is something going on?'

You told yourself not to think too much of it, yet.

'No, I just wanted to see you, it's been a while since we've been able to spend some time together'

You couldn't help but focus on what was being said in between the lines. He wanted to see you, maybe there really was more to it.

'Sounds great to me.'

'Good.'

You found yourself smiling brightly as you sat at your desk, wondering just what he really wanted to say to you. The flowers, and now dinner. Maybe it wasn't so bad to hope there was something else going on.

xx

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @imaginesfire, @onuen, @rexit-mo, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry

Marvel+Steve Taglist: @aquariuslavenderhoney, @trashywritestrash, @groovy-lady, @marvelouslyme96, @supersourlemon13, @mochamoff, @simsiddy, @gay-and-ready-to-cry, @flourishandblotts-inc, @spuffyfan394, @agent-catfish-kenobi, @locke-writes, @cs-please, @a-lumos-in-the-nox, @creativitybeware, @that-marvel-simp, @gatefleet, @skylions-den, @dominos-palast, @maellem, @readingwithatorch, @cauliflowertree, @writerfulltime, @multifandomfix

[killiansprincss]

Timeless - a new Captain Swan AU

Timeless: When Zelenas time portal works, Henry wakes up alone in Storybrooke and must travel to the Enchanted Forest to get his family back. Only once he gets there he quickly realises its not like the one in his book, theres no Evil Queen and his mother Emma wasn't put through a wardrobe, theres a poster inviting the entire kingdom to her engagement ball, to Hook. What will happen once Henry gets them to break this new curse and get their memories back?

For all the Swifites and those who love her music, every chapter in this will be based on a different Taylor Swift song! This fic has been so much fun to write and I truly hope you enjoy it as much as I do and let me know if you would like to be tagged when I post a new chapter!

Link to AO3

____

'Cause I believe that we were supposed to find this

So, even in a different life, you still would've been mine

We would've been timeless

Storybrooke circa 2013

It was a Thursday afternoon in Winter, for Henry that usually meant going to Central Park to go ice skating with some friends from school, and if he was lucky his mom would let him order a Pizza if he was home alone and get to the next level of his favourite video game. That was what life was meant to be like, for Henry Swan who lived with his single mother. Except that’s not who he was anymore. That was a false life. 

He wasn’t Henry Swan, he was Henry Mills who lived in a town filled with Storybook Characters. Henry’s grandparents were Snow White and Prince Charming, his other grandfather was Rumplestilskin, his adoptive mother was the Evil queen, and his biological mother was something called ‘The Saviour’. And as crazy as it was, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Except from just having woken up from the false life, he quickly realised he wouldn’t be able to just settle back into his similar routine as before, because his aunt was planning on enacting another curse to give her a happy ending by re-doing her life. Whilst he was confident that his family would win this and it wouldn’t happen, a part of him did wonder if she succeeded and had a redo on her life- what would happen to the town?

 He wanted to go with them, help save the Town, but of course he was told “you’re too young” or “you could get hurt” so he was left at the hospital with zero responsibility trying to console his grandma who had just had her baby taken away from her.  A baby that was his uncle, another strange quirk about this life.

He walks over to the vending machine to get a soda when the lights start to flicker. He rolls his eyes, thinking it just means the magic is acting up, his family is busy saving the day without him, as usual. He puts 2 quarters in the machine and presses B6, giving him a Mountain Dew, so he grabs it and takes a sip when the lights start to flicker again. He rolls his eyes again and walks back to the room where his grandma is crying. 

The lights in the room flicker more and more until the bulbs burst completely. Snow screams and Henry ducks under the table, he looks out the window and sees an orange fog coming towards them rapidly. 

“The curse! It’s here!” Leroy shouts from outside, Snow begins to cry more and more. 

No. Surely no. They failed? But heroes always win.

Everyone in the hospital is either crying or screaming. 

What was going to happen?

__________

Opening his eyes, and slowly regaining his senses, Henry can hear the soft hum coming from the heaters in the hospital. He opens his eyes fully and realises he’d been knocked to the ground and his head was thumping hard.

As he got up, he looked around and there was no sign of his grandma. He walks out of the room and into the hospital corridor and again, nobody was there. He takes his cell out of his pocket and dials his mom,

“Hey it’s Emma, leave a message.”

He tries his other mom. It rings and rings, and then nothing. 

He tries his grandpa even.

“The number you have called is currently unavailable.”

Where was everyone?

“Hello? Hello?” He calls out, but nobody is around. 

Henry walks around for a while until he comes to the conclusion that he is in fact, alone in Storybrooke. Whilst some teenagers would find this heaven on earth, being surrounded by no adults, free to do what he likes, Henry had a very different reaction.

Zelena’s time portal. 

The orange smoke.

The curse. 

It’s all coming back. His family somehow failed and now they were gone. No they couldn’t be gone, Henry was still here, his existence would be wiped out if they weren’t still out there. 

________

________

The Enchanted Forest (sort of)

‘Queen Snow and King David invite all the kingdom of Misthaven to the ball this coming Saturday to celebrate the engagement of their daughter, Princess Emma, to Captain Killian Jones’

The invitation was sent to everybody in their kingdom, whether they were noble or not. There were banners and posters all over the kingdom announcing the engagement. The story of Snow White and her Prince Charming was beloved by the kingdom and showed that even a commoner can marry royalty, including their daughter.

“I’m so excited!”

“Princess Emma is going to make a beautiful bride!”

“I heard he was pirate! A pirate marrying a princess! Can you believe it?” 

The kingdom was so excited, not many kingdoms allow commoners to attend the balls, only royalty or noblemen and women. The kingdom loved the royal family, and always wondered who would win the heart of the crown princess and it ended up being a pirate, which the kingdom did not see coming. Their wedding was just a few months away and the ball was the chance to see the happy couple together before the wedding.

____

In the Western Kingdom of the Enchanted Forest

“My dear Zelena, your magic has come so far. I believe you’re almost ready.” Queen Cora tells her daughter.

Princess Zelena had been training with the Dark One for years now, he was the most equipped in Dark Magic and had taught her mother when she was first married to Zelena step father.

“Rumplestilskin says I’ll be powerful enough to cast his curse any day now.” Zelena had a perfect life, a mother who loved her and believed in her power, and a mentor who trusted her with his life’s mission, and saw great things in her future.

_____

 Many years ago…. 

Being a pregnant woman who was unmarried was an awful fate. Especially for a miller's daughter who would amount to nothing in life.

‘Prince’ Jonathan. His child. When she didn’t bleed for a month she knew what that meant. It was his baby, but he was no more royalty than she was. What hope was there for her and her child?

But then fate showed her another way. Prince Leopold and his fiancée Eva. The girl was much younger than she was, and Cora thought she would be a bratty young girl. She was so wrong. Cora had never met a kinder soul.

Leopold found her on the road after Jonathan had abandoned her and took her into his castle. She was weak, and they nursed her back to health.

“Are you all right?” Eva stayed at her bedside while she regained her strength. 

“I-I think so. I can’t thank you enough for your kindness.” 

Eva smiles at Cora. “The healers say you’re with child. What is that like? I can’t wait until the day I get to be a mother.”

The girl was so young, Cora couldn’t imagine her being a mother. But then again, she was a princess, and a soon to be husband who would support her. “It’s exciting that there is life growing inside of me, but it’s also scary. I am doing this on my own and I have no idea how I will be able to support myself or my child.” 

“I have a cousin who is King in the Western Kingdom of Ashbourne. His daughter is a mere 13 but she needs a lady in waiting that will sort her out so she does not turn into such a young madam. They pay well and will help you with your pregnancy, and after you give birth, will be able to see your baby all the time. I will tell them you were engaged to a nobleman who died in battle, you will not be judged for being unmarried and they will care for you.” 

Cora couldn’t believe her ears. This princess, she didn’t know her or her story, why was she so eager to help? “Why me?”

“My mother taught me to be kind to everyone. When Leopold said he found you on the road and in pain, my heart soared.” 

__

And so Cora, no longer the miller's daughter, became a lady in waiting for Princess Charlotte.

Lady Cora. 

7 months later she gave birth to a baby girl. Zelena. The name of a goddess. And she was going to treat her like the goddess she was. 

Princess Charlotte was a handful. A brat at times but she was kind and had a huge heart. There was also the fact her older brother Henry would often come keep an eye on her.

Of course, the King would never accept his daughter's  lady in waiting to marry his son. Whilst Henry was only third in line for the throne, his father only wanted the best for his children in marriage. There was also the fact she was a mother already, the worry would she be able to give Henry a legitimate child of his own?

And so Cora told them a lie. She told them she could spin straw into gold and that is where she met the infamous Rumplestiltskin.

[imthebadguyyy]

Fortnight

pairing: carlos sainz x reader

fandom : formula 1

series : the tortured poets department

synopsis : and i love you it's ruining my life.

i was a functioning alcoholic till nobody noticed my new aesthetic...

The champagne had flowed effortlessly at the paddock parties, the kind where Carlos shined brightest—golden smiles, loud laughter, and arms draped casually over shoulders. He was magnetic, so at ease in the crowd that no one noticed you tucked into the corner of the bar, swirling your glass of wine as though the answers might be hidden in its depths.

“You’re keeping to yourself again,” he said softly, his hand brushing the small of your back as he leaned in, warm and familiar.

It was a perfectly Carlos move, disarming in the gentlest way. You’d smiled tightly, masking the bitterness on your tongue, the way the liquor burned a little less than it used to.

“I’m fine. Just a drink.”

His eyes had narrowed, studying you the way he studied telemetry data—looking for what didn’t belong, for what didn’t add up. You’d perfected the act months ago: the polished version of yourself, hair perfect, dress impeccable, the kind of aesthetic that nobody could pick apart—except maybe for the emptiness behind your eyes.

You thought he’d let it slide, as everyone else did. But Carlos never let anything slide.

“When did this become a habit?” he asked, voice quiet but firm.

The question cut deeper than you wanted it to. You turned toward him, defensive. “It’s not a habit. I’m just having fun.”

Carlos shook his head then, his gaze darkening with something you couldn’t name—concern, disappointment, fear. He stepped closer, his presence steady and unwavering, as though he could shield you from the room you no longer felt you belonged in.

“Nobody notices because you hide it well,” he murmured. “But I see it.”

The words hit like a gut punch. It had been easier when nobody noticed—easier to drown out the ache of your failures, the insecurities you carried, the loneliness you swore you’d never let him see.

You blinked up at him, throat tight. “Then why didn’t you say something?”

His expression softened as he reached for your hand, his fingers curling around yours.

“I’m saying something now.”

And just like that, the walls you’d built started to crack. Because Carlos wasn’t the kind of man who took half-measures—on the track or in your life. He was going to pull you back, no matter how much you resisted, no matter how hard it was to let him.

In a room full of people, Carlos had noticed. And for the first time, you weren’t sure whether to fight it or finally let yourself be seen.

all of this to say, i hope you're okay but you're the reason...

The rain tapped lightly against the windows, a soft soundtrack to the silence that had settled between you and Carlos. It wasn’t angry or sharp—there was no yelling, no dramatic declarations, just the kind of stillness that comes when both of you know there’s nothing left to say.

You sat across from him, hands curled around the mug of tea he’d made you, though it had long gone cold. Carlos leaned forward on the couch, elbows resting on his knees, his gaze fixed on the floor. He hadn’t looked at you in minutes, maybe hours.

“I hope you’re okay,” you whispered, breaking the silence that had weighed on your chest.

Carlos’s head lifted slightly at that, his brow furrowed. “Why do you say it like that?”

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “Because… you’re the reason.”

The words hung in the air, fragile and heavy all at once. His eyes finally met yours then, dark and searching, trying to make sense of the pain laced through your voice.

“The reason?” he echoed quietly, like he didn’t want to believe it.

You sighed, the breath shaky as you tried to explain. “The reason I don’t feel like myself anymore. The reason I sit at dinner tables smiling like everything’s fine when it isn’t. The reason I started to lose pieces of who I am just to fit into a life that was always yours.”

Carlos flinched, barely noticeable, but you caught it. You could tell he wanted to argue, to say you’d been everything to him, that he’d never wanted you to lose yourself—but you’d both played a part in getting here.

“I didn’t mean to…” he started, his voice cracking slightly before he stopped himself.

“I know,” you replied softly. “And maybe that’s what makes it hurt the most.”

For a long time, the two of you just sat there, the room too big, the space between you wider than it had ever been. You didn’t hate him—how could you? He was Carlos, the man you’d once felt so impossibly close to. But somewhere along the way, loving him had started to cost you pieces of yourself, and now it was time to stop paying.

Carlos sat back, running a hand through his hair as he nodded, almost to himself. “I hope you’re okay too.”

You smiled faintly, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. “I will be.”

And you meant it. You’d leave the apartment tonight, step out into the rain and let it wash away the ache for just a moment. You’d pick up those pieces of yourself one by one and start putting them back together.

You hoped Carlos would be okay too—but you couldn’t be the reason he was, not anymore.

and for a fortnight there we were, forever...

For your time together, everything felt like it could last forever. The days blurred together in a whirlwind of laughter, late-night conversations, and moments that felt stolen from time itself. It was a kind of magic that seemed to hang between you and Carlos—undisturbed by the world outside, untouched by anything that didn’t fit.

You spent your mornings walking through the city, his hand casually resting in the small of your back as you wandered through streets filled with memories you were only just creating. Nights were spent in the quiet corners of his apartment, sipping wine and talking about everything and nothing.

And for that time, it felt like it was always meant to be. Like the future was a promise sealed in the present, and the world would pause for you both.

Carlos had a way of making you feel seen, understood, like nothing else mattered in the world but the two of you. There were no complications, no distractions—just the warmth of his smile and the quiet peace that settled between you whenever you were together.

But deep down, you knew it couldn’t last. Reality would come rushing back soon enough, and those stolen moments would slip away like sand through your fingers.

But for that time, you had forever.

all my mornings are mondays stuck in an endless february...

All your mornings were Mondays—dull and heavy, an endless repetition of the same hollow routine. The world outside felt stuck in a cold February, as if time had frozen, leaving you suspended in this inescapable loop of grey. Every day felt like the one before, each moment blending into the next, until they all became indistinguishable. The air was thick with the weight of missed opportunities, unspoken words, and the aching emptiness of a love lost.

Since Carlos left, it was as if the world had shifted, and you were no longer a part of it. The apartment felt too quiet now, the silence louder than anything he’d ever said. You’d wake up with the same empty feeling in your chest, as if you had already lost something you weren’t ready to let go of. Coffee tasted bitter, the mornings too long, stretching out in front of you with no end in sight. You moved through each day like a shadow of yourself, existing but not truly living.

You had convinced yourself that you could move on, that you could go back to being the person you once were—the one who could face the world without the weight of the past dragging her down. But the reality was cruel. Every morning felt like the first, and every night was a reminder of how everything had fallen apart. No matter how many hours you spent in the motion of life, nothing ever seemed to shift.

The absence of him haunted you in ways you never expected. His laugh, his warmth, the way he used to look at you as if you were the only one who mattered—they were all ghosts now, whispers in the corners of your mind. The love that once seemed so sure had become a distant memory, leaving you tangled in the “what-ifs” that you couldn’t stop replaying.

You wanted to move on, to shake off this feeling of being stuck in this endless February. But each morning you woke up, the cold air reminding you of how much you had lost, you couldn’t help but feel trapped. It wasn’t just the absence of him—it was the absence of everything you’d built together, of a future you thought you’d have.

And so, you sat there, caught between the ghost of the past and the emptiness of the present, hoping that someday, somehow, the days would finally break free from their endless loop. That one day, you’d wake up to something more than the cold February mornings, but until then, all you could do was survive, counting down the hours in the same painful monotony.

and i love you, it's ruining my life...

He had moved on. It was clear in the way he smiled a little easier, how his laughter came more freely. He was thriving, living his life, and maybe, just maybe, he'd found a place where the ghosts of you didn’t haunt him anymore. He deserved that peace. He deserved everything.

But you? You were still there. Still stuck in the ruins of what you used to be, trapped in a love that was slowly suffocating you. You loved him. You loved him harder than anything, and the intensity of that love felt like a weight on your chest. It was consuming. It was all-encompassing. It was ruining your life.

You tried. You really did. You tried to let go. You told yourself it would get easier. You told yourself that you could move forward. But every time you saw him, every time you thought of him, it was like an ache deep inside you that wouldn’t fade. You wanted to be happy for him, to cheer him on in the life he was building without you. But instead, it hurt. It hurt in ways you couldn’t explain. Because while he had found a way to walk away, you couldn’t stop holding on.

He had released you, but you couldn’t release him. The love you had for him wasn’t just a feeling—it was a part of you, woven into every inch of your being. Even now, when you told yourself to move on, it felt like you were betraying the depth of what you once had. And it wasn’t just emotional—it was physical. Your heart would ache in a way that felt almost impossible to bear, a constant reminder that you were still tethered to him in a way he no longer was to you.

“I love you,” you whispered, your voice breaking under the weight of the words, knowing how useless they were. He didn’t need to hear them. He already knew. But it didn’t stop the truth from crashing down on you.

And there it was. The cruel, bittersweet reality: you loved him so fiercely, so completely, that it was ruining you. The love you couldn’t stop feeling for him was the very thing that kept you from moving on, from finding peace in a future without him. While he was free, you were still bound to the past you could never return to.

And all you could do was love him, helplessly, until it consumed you whole.

now you're in my backyard turned into good neighbours...

Now, he was in your backyard, but it didn’t feel the same. Once, you had stood in this very place, side by side, your hearts tangled together in the kind of love that made the world feel smaller, simpler. There had been laughter, stolen moments, and dreams shared between you both that made everything else fade into the background. But that was before everything changed, before the silence grew too loud to ignore and the distance between you widened in ways you couldn’t stop.

Now, he was just a figure in the distance, smiling with his new life, his new world. You watched from the window as he moved with ease, as if nothing had ever been lost. He waved, the gesture casual, almost practiced, as if the space between you was nothing more than a formality, as if you hadn’t once shared everything. He had moved on, and you… you were still standing in the remnants of what you had, your heart stuck in the past, tangled in the threads of memories you couldn’t seem to untangle.

You were good neighbours now—nothing more. You exchanged polite smiles, the kind of small talk that didn’t carry any weight. Casual hellos, the occasional nod. But those were just walls you both put up, barriers to protect you from the things that still lingered unsaid, the feelings that neither of you dared to confront. You wanted to shout across the yard, to tell him how much you missed him, how much you still loved him, how much you hated this new reality. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. The truth between you had become too heavy to speak aloud, too fragile to be voiced without shattering what little remained.

So, instead, you played the roles of neighbours—comfortable in your silence, pretending that the distance between you was nothing but physical. You both wore the act well, hiding behind polite exchanges, as if that was all you were now. But deep down, you knew it would always be more. You knew that the space between you was never just physical; it was the space left by a love that had once been everything, now fractured and out of reach. And though you both wore the mask of moving on, you couldn’t escape the ache of what you had lost.

run into you sometimes, comment on my sweater...

You’d run into him sometimes, usually in places where you never expected to see him—those fleeting moments when the past would rush forward in a flash. The first time it happened, it was in the coffee shop down the street, just a random, ordinary day. He was there, standing by the counter, his eyes meeting yours for the briefest second before he smiled, that smile that once made your heart race.

"Nice sweater," he’d said, his voice light, almost too casual, as if time hadn’t passed, as if you hadn’t once shared everything. You chuckled, the old familiarity settling over you like a soft blanket, both comforting and painful at once. "Thanks," you replied, forcing a smile, unsure if you were the one still clinging to the past or if he was too. The exchange felt like something out of a dream, the kind of thing you couldn’t quite grasp, but you knew it meant more than it appeared.

He had walked away then, just as quickly as he had appeared, leaving you standing there, heart in your throat, caught between the weight of what you had lost and the possibility of something new. You had gone through the motions, the rest of your day a blur, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that those few seconds were enough to remind you of everything that once was—and everything that could never be again.

but it won't start up till you touch, touch, touch me...

You never thought you’d see him again. Not like this. After everything that happened, you’d convinced yourself that the past was best left behind, locked away in a part of your mind you rarely visited. The heartbreak, the unfinished conversations, the goodbyes that were never said—that was a chapter you didn’t need to reopen.

But there he was, standing in front of you, just like it was yesterday. You hadn’t planned on running into him; life had a funny way of throwing things your way when you least expected them. And yet, there he was, as if the years hadn’t passed, as if the weight of the things you’d gone through together hadn’t somehow shaped you into the person you were today.

When you looked at him, it wasn’t just the face you once loved, the smile you could never forget. It was everything—the memories that rushed back in a flood, the stolen moments, the quiet laughter in places only you two knew, the promises that never quite made it out of your mouths. All of it was there, swirling around you, trying to pull you back into the life you thought you had moved on from.

But your heart—your heart wouldn’t start beating again, not with that familiar intensity, not with that same hope, until he touched it. The love you had felt for him once, raw and passionate, had frozen over time, hardened by the distance and the pain. But in his presence, you could feel it again, a flicker, a pulse of something long gone.

You remembered how it had been when he’d first entered your life, how he made you feel alive in ways you hadn’t known were possible. Every touch, every word, every glance was enough to make your heart race. You used to think that nothing could ever tear that apart, that nothing could sever the connection between you two. But then the world got in the way. Things changed. People changed. And what was once so sure became so uncertain.

But as you stood there, facing him now, you realized how much of that old feeling still lingered beneath the surface. It wasn’t just the memories that pulled you toward him; it was the pull of your heart, still waiting, still hoping for something that had once seemed like a forever. You knew it was foolish to want it back, to let yourself be vulnerable again after everything, but it didn’t matter. Your heart wouldn’t start beating again until he touched it—until he showed you, even for a moment, that it hadn’t all been a lie.

The look in his eyes, that flicker of recognition, told you that maybe, just maybe, he felt it too. He reached out, a gesture so simple, yet so heavy with the weight of everything that had passed between you. Your heart skipped a beat. It was tentative, uncertain, but it was enough to wake something inside you.

You had always believed that love could die, that time could erase it, that wounds could heal. But in that moment, with him so close, you realized love wasn’t something that disappeared. It was always there, waiting in the background, waiting for the right moment to make itself known again. And as his fingers brushed against yours, your heart finally started to beat again, not like it once did, but with a renewed hope, a quiet understanding that maybe the past wasn’t as far behind as you thought. Maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance to see what could be.

but it won't start up till I touch, touch, touch you...

Carlos had never been one to admit when he was wrong. He was always so sure of himself, moving through life with a confidence that seemed unshakable. But with you, it was different. Everything had always been different.

He had tried to convince himself that he had moved on, that the past was exactly that—the past. But when he saw you again, standing there with that familiar smile, his heart had betrayed him in the worst way.

It wasn’t supposed to feel like this. You were supposed to be a chapter he had closed, a memory he could visit but never revisit. But as soon as his eyes locked onto yours, everything he’d tried to forget came rushing back. The way you laughed, the way your eyes sparkled when you talked about your dreams—it was all so vivid, so real.

Carlos couldn’t stop himself from reaching out, his fingers brushing the back of your hand as if he were testing the waters. He had to know if the connection, the pull between you, was still there. And when he felt the electricity, the heat rising between you, he couldn’t fight it any longer. He took a step closer, his chest tightening, his pulse quickening. It was as if time had stopped, as if he had been holding his breath since the moment you left.

You stood there, just a few inches apart, and for a moment, he thought he could feel your heart racing too. His own was beating so loudly in his ears that he wondered if you could hear it, if you could sense just how badly he wanted to reach out and touch you. But there was so much hesitation—so much fear that maybe you didn’t feel the same.

And then, before he could stop himself, his hand found your chin, gently lifting it so that you were looking at him, really looking at him. He saw the flicker of something in your eyes, something that matched the longing he had buried deep inside. His heart gave a little lurch.

He closed the space between you, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was soft at first, tentative, as if both of you were trying to figure out if this was real, if it was okay to let go. But as soon as your lips met, he knew. He knew this was right. This was where he was supposed to be.

The kiss deepened, and all the doubts, all the walls he’d built around himself came crashing down. You were still here, still the one who made his heart race, the one who made him feel alive in ways he didn’t know he needed. Every touch, every movement felt like a spark reigniting the flame between you, a flame that had never really gone out.

Carlos pulled away just for a moment, breathless, eyes searching yours for something he couldn’t quite put into words. And then he smiled, that same crooked smile you had always loved. His heart was still pounding in his chest, but now it was a steady, familiar rhythm—the kind that felt like home.

“I think we both knew it never really stopped, did we?” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion.

You didn’t have to answer. The way you looked at him, the way your heart seemed to beat in sync with his, told him everything he needed to know.

And in that moment, as the world moved around them, he realized this was just the beginning. His heart had started again, and he wasn’t about to let it stop.

i love you...

The sun bathed everything in a warm golden glow as you stood at the end of the aisle, your heart pounding in a way that felt both familiar and brand new. The soft hum of music drifted through the air, but all you could hear was the steady rhythm of your heartbeat—and his. Carlos was waiting for you, his eyes fixed on yours like you were the only person who mattered. And maybe you were.

His smile was soft, a little crooked, the same one that had made your knees weak countless times before. But today, it meant more. It was a promise, a quiet whisper of forever that carried the weight of everything you’d been through to get here.

The moment you reached him, Carlos reached out, taking your hand gently, his thumb brushing against your knuckles. It was such a small gesture, but it grounded you—reminded you that this was real. You’d made it. Together.

The vows passed in a blur. You weren’t sure who spoke first, but every word hung heavy with meaning.

“I promise to love you through everything, to be your partner, your calm in the chaos, your biggest supporter. I don’t think I could ever stop loving you, even if I tried—because you’ve always been a part of me.”

Carlos squeezed your hand, his voice unwavering, steady. “I thought I knew what love was before you. I didn’t. You showed me. I promise to choose you, every day, for the rest of my life. Te amo. Always.”

Your throat tightened as tears threatened to fall, and when it was your turn to say, “I do,” the words came out sure and steady, like they had always been waiting for this moment.

Carlos’s eyes softened, his own filled with a glimmer of emotion he wasn’t trying to hide. When he said, “I do,” it was the sound of a door closing on every doubt, every heartbreak that had ever touched you both.

And then the officiant’s voice lifted into the air—“You may kiss the bride.”

Carlos didn’t hesitate. He stepped closer, cupping your face with a tenderness that made your chest ache. When his lips met yours, the world melted away, just like it always did. His kiss wasn’t rushed, wasn’t just for show—it was a promise in itself, a steady beat of I love you in every touch.

The guests cheered, but it all felt distant. It was just the two of you, standing together, hearts racing in tandem like they had from the very beginning. When you pulled back, breathless, Carlos leaned his forehead against yours, his hands still cradling your face.

“I love you,” he whispered, for you alone to hear.

You smiled, your eyes shining. “I love you, too.”

And as he grinned, wide and beautiful, you realized—this wasn’t the end. This was the beginning of everything you’d ever wanted.

a/n : i know i haven't written or posted in FOREVER life has just been insanely hectic :( hoping to pump out a few fics during a short break i have this month!! hope you enjoy it, and as always, feedback, comments, reblogs etc are always appreciated ❤️

TAGS

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TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST SEND ME AN ASK OR DM SPECIFYING WHICH FANDOM ❤️

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[heartz4shauna]

masterlist.

🐝yellowjackets:

lottie matthews.. 🦌

artist!lottie headcanons

Prove It.

Last Resort

van palmer.. 🦊

What a Lady

shauna shipman.. 🐶

Locked Out

werewolf!shauna hcs

brown haired girls

puppy!shauna ft. the mall

jackie taylor.. 🐇

jackie headcanons

picnic date drabble

werewolf!jackie hcs

random headcanons

natalie scatorccio.. 🦨

my kink is karma

sleepy!nat headcanons

jackieshauna.. 🐇🐶

Girl Stuff

werewolf!shauna x human!jackie headcanons

lottienat.. 🦌🦨

Locker Room

shaunanat..

shaunanat headcanons 🦨🐶

group/headcanons..

Who ya gonna call?

random headcanons

🧟the last of us:

abby anderson.. 🏋️‍♀️

babysitter!abby headcanons

🎾challengers:

puppy pile

art donaldson.. 🐭

dating art h/cs part 1, part 2 !!

art x popstar!reader

mentor!art

tashi duncan.. 🦋

tashi and her controversially young lover

patrick zweig.. ❄️

pov: you’re patrick’s.. situation

pat x dentistry major!reader

artrick.. 🐭❄️

happy new year!

🪷other:

clarice starling x fem!reader hcs

[skywalking-through-life]

hope you're doing well 💗💗💗 would love to know your favorite books and the ones that have inspired you as a writer <3

Hello my darling! 💙 What a wonderful, wonderful ask, because there are SO many I could list off! All of my writing is always an amalgamation of every book, fic, movie, TV show, piece of music, article, and life experience I've ever had, but there are definitely some writers whose stories and/or writing styles have stuck with me more than others.

In general, I was very influenced by the fantasy, science fiction, and historical mysteries that I read when I was younger, and look back on all the things I read then with great fondness! Some of my favorites as a kid/teenager were: Susan Cooper (The Dark is Rising), Tamora Pierce (everything!), JRR Tolkien, JK Rowling (I know, I know - but I can't go back and unread them), Diana Wynne Jones (but I preferred Chrestomanci over Howl's Moving Castle), CS Lewis, Rick Riordan, Robin Hobb (The Blue Sword), Lloyd Alexander (Prydain), Ellis Peters (Cadfael), Lindsey Davis (The Silver Pigs), Candace Robb (The Nun's Tale), Timothy Zahn (Star Wars - Thrawn), Aaron Allston (Star Wars - X-Wings), Michael Stackpole (Star Wars - X-Wings)...I could go on for awhile here, lol. I read constantly as a kid, both things I should and things I shouldn't have been reading, so much so that there were weeks when I was reading a new book every day! I also loved myths and legends, so I read Le Mort d'Arthur, The Odyssey, Gilgamesh - all the usual suspects.

As I got older I mixed fiction with nonfiction and poetry, and started reading a lot of subject-specific academic material in undergrad and in my master's program after that. Quite a few writers from that time now influence me as well, building on the foundation of everything that came before: James Baldwin, bell hooks, Barbara Brown Taylor, Anne Lamott, Mary Oliver, Henri Nouwen, Kate Bowler, William Stafford, Howard Thurman, Audre Lorde, Wendell Barry, Rachel Held Evans, Thomas Merton, Nelson Mandela...there are also too many to name here, lol, and if you follow the common thread that unites all these folks, you'll probably learn a lot about how I see the world. And that, too, is something that always makes its way into my writing! 😅

I'm sort of inspired by everything, haha, but I've tried to give a pretty good list of authors, so that maybe they'll inspire you, too! 💙

[obsessedtomone]

Unravel Yourself Before Me ⛓️ Chapter 4 - Mistakes▸Shigaraki x femReader

Chapter Summary:

◤ Honestly, what the fuck were you thinking?!

All alarms are going off in your useless excuse of a brain and you start feeling an immense amount of dread seeping into your bones. You need to take this back, right fucking now, or who knows what he’s going to—◢ Setting: University AU - No quirks (unless degenerate personalities count) Tags: Slow burn, Eventual Smut, Unhealthy/Toxic Relationships, Humiliation, Mentally Ill Reader, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to ??? Warning: Dead Dove – Do Not Eat | Mind the tags TW: Implied Su/Self H, Dubcon, Reader has a super shitty past like actually, Shigaraki Tomura is his own warning.

AO3 Crosspost | Chain Divider by firefly-graphics

Chapters: One • Two • Three • Four • Five

Chapter 4 - Mistakes

It was ninety-three MILLION fucking miles away, and somehow, the sun still manages to shine through the blinds and right into your fucking face.

You squint at your phone and then sigh.

150 missed messages from the computer science project group chat, and another eight from Taylor, making you feel more than overwhelmed.  The past one and a half weeks were pretty uneventful. 

You slept, climbed ranks in the holy trinity of Riot Games, worked at your part time job and showed up to your classes for at least half of the time. Despite trying to convince yourself it wasn’t for any reason in particular. You were especially prone to dodging your CS classes, most of them all. 

In short, you’re doing fine. The ‘free’ time you have feels boring and seemingly peaceful. And you couldn’t complain when boring was exactly what you needed—especially since most of your life was anything but. 

That being said, it’s hard to ignore that broken part of your monkey brain that craves the instability and stress you got used to growing up. You feel uncomfortable feeling comfortable, like bugs crawling under your skin and waiting, wanting for the storm to brew, so that you can fuck yourself over, the cycle of self-sabotage going strong as always. Having insane academic goals and working hard towards them helped that aspect of yourself quite a bit, but it still feels like something’s missing.

Something only years of therapy and healthy relationships with people would be able to change.

As the deadline is quickly approaching, it’s finally time to check what the project is about and do your part before your presentation on Wednesday. You glance at the unsaved numbers of three other people you’ve never previously heard of—or cared enough to learn about—being displayed on top of the chat. So you go ahead and save them, knowing you’ll remove them as soon as the presentation is over.

Scrolling down, you notice your group mates freaking out about two of the members—one being you—not sending their part in yet, despite the deadline being around two and a half days away.

Yui(I think?) — What do we do about the others, Ojiro…? :( Guys pls, I seriously don’t wanna do everything by myself.  [Sent 9:13 AM]

Mashirao(jock blondie) — Don’t worry, I’ll call them later today. If they don’t reply by then, we’re on our own I guess. We’ll have to let the professor know. They should know better than to ghost us, honestly. Honors student or not, they’re both dickheads.  [Sent 9:17 AM]

Yui(I think?) — Ahh! Stop! 💀 They can read this too!!!  [Sent 9:25 AM]

Mashirao(jock blondie) — Let them. I’m not afraid of either of them and they should feel ashamed for making us do all the work.  [Sent 10:05 AM]

You can’t help but roll your eyes at their childish hostility.

Wow, first of all, they have absolutely no faith in you. Second of all, are they like, three years old? They’re openly discussing fucking you over in a group chat that you’re literally part of. At least do that shit in your DMs, not in the open where both targets can read them.

And maybe, maybe, if you really thought about it, you know it was sort of fair. You probably are the world’s laziest, biggest procrastinator, but if they knew about your name enough to diss you, they should also know you’d never compromise your grades because you really fucking need this scholarship. 

Besides, you’re not bad at farming credits. Two days of work is more than enough for you to do your part and then some. Deeply flawed individual that you are, but a highly functioning one with a brain good enough to power up whenever you need it to. 

If anything, it’s you who couldn’t understand how these losers needed so much time to figure out their shit, when the material has always been always pretty straight forward (except when the fucking professor is too tired of his life to do his fucking job).

Yui(I think?) — Yeah so… I finally added my part to the shared cloud! If by some miracle the other two see this, you guys have access to the project too! Please please please send it in time, I don’t wanna fail CS this year again maaan ;_; We still have to prepare the talking points together! [Sent 10:30 AM]

You — ill get everything done before the deadline, assholes [Sent 2:14 PM]

You — also pro tip, if you tap the back button on the chat window, look for someone’s name and then open it, you can actually talk shit privately ;)  [Sent 2:14 PM]

Before you close the chat window, you see two rows of angry dot animations ready to cuss you out, no doubt. Too bad you can’t be bothered with irrelevant idiots.

And so you stand up, take a shower—the first one in a couple of days—and mentally prepare yourself for two weeks worth of work, squeezed into a one all-nighter and a half.

After all, in stress, you thrive.

─────────

Thud –

After dropping your bag next to your desk, you slide in your seat. You’re petty as fuck when you do, because of course you have to pick the seat that is right beside him. 

Your favorite neighbor’s white haired head is buried in his arms, laying against his desk and probably taking a goddamn nap.

This motherfucker.

The two week creep-detox did fucking nothing for you, because you notice your disdain for him is still as fresh as it was the night at the convenience store—if not stronger. 

Not only did this asshole not fucking reply to your group in time (like you fucking did), but he also didn’t contribute to your project whatso-fucking-ever. In fact, he’d never even read any of the chat messages. 

God are you fucking pissed at him. Beyond pissed, you’re fuming—because who else would’ve done his fucking part if it wasn’t for you? Not even! You’ve done your part, his part and then on top of everything, you had to fucking fix everyone else’s too!

Incompetent fuckers! All of them!

It bothers you so much because you really do feel like you were getting walked all over, but at least it shut those two clowns up and that was enough motivation for you to get the job done. That, and the ridiculous grades you need to get for you to keep your stupid fucking scholarship rolling every year.

You sigh, staring at the mop of white hair next to you, wishing you had superpowers so you could burn a hole through his head and melt his brain off. 

That being said, there’s two ‘interesting’ things you've found out about him during this annoying ass group project, first one being that the asshole’s name was Shigaraki fucking Tomura.

The Shigaraki Tomura.

You’d heard about his infamy over the years—never being able to put a face to the name—but nothing came even close to the stories Taylor began telling you about him. ‘Like girl, do you live under a fucking rock?!’ is what your friend asked in an extremely dramatic tone before setting off on spilling the ‘tea’ for your ‘uncultured ass’—whatever the fuck that means.

The second interesting thing you’ve found out is, that the mystery white-haired slacker isn’t just a random incel loser, who gets off on paying for strangers’ energy drinks, but also seems to be a serious anti-social, borderline criminal individual.

According to the stories, he’s now been in court more times than you can count, charged with various offenses that range from physical violence, assault, theft, vandalism, drug-related charges, to more minor ones such as trespassing and public disturbances—all of ‘em either involving students or straight up gang members. Shit you’d normally hear about from the news or in movies.

He’s friends with a bunch of other convicted criminal misfits, seems to have spent—like you—a few months in juvie and people swear he’s not all talk when he threatens to beat the shit out of you, never discriminating between genders. You’re pretty sure that this wasn’t what women fought for when they said feminism.

That alone begged the question if he was really gonna make good on the promise to fuck you up, last time you bothered him. What if you kept pestering him further? 

Thinking about it leaves your mouth dry.

There’s a reason as to why he’d managed to get out of every court case with nothing more than misdemeanors. That reason came in the shape of his daddy’s wealth and connections, a convenient ‘get out of jail free’ card and something normal people (you) could never afford. Which is why your criminal record was now forever tainted. 

A true show of society’s totally unbiased conduct towards the mighty upper class, you suppose.

But it doesn’t fucking matter what his past was like, you quickly decide, if for your own sanity. It also doesn’t matter if you can relate to the shitty overblown rumors that are circulating around. Or the fact that the two of you share so many similarities. 

What really matters now, is that he’s actively trying to jeopardize your perfect score sheet—and by extension, your scholarship—by not stepping up and contributing to the project. And you couldn’t let that slide.

Shigaraki continues resting on his desk, occasionally scratching the top of his head and yawning while not paying you any mind.

You bite the skin off of your lip anxiously, unable to wait and teach this entitled little asshole a fucking lesson for messing with you.

─────────

Time passes and it’s finally your group’s turn. 

All of you gather in front of the lecture hall—well, all of you, save for Mr. Creep in the back corner of the room, who’s still hunched over and scrolling his phone.

If the rare upturned corners of your lips is something to go by, you’re in for some serious mischief today.

The professor opens up with a brief introduction to your project in front of the many bored students, and your group finally starts presenting. It all goes well except for the fact that, despite your age, you have this incredible stage fright. 

On paper, nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone has their weaknesses, right? But in reality, your hands are shaking uncontrollably, your voice is trembling involuntarily and you mess up most of your speaking turn, feeling like a complete fucking idiot. 

It gets worse the moment you realize that somewhere along the presentation, a pair of piercing red eyes began studying you incessantly. His sudden attention on you makes your body sweat about three times the amount everyone else’s would combined. It’s insanely jarring, in the worst fucking sense. You scoff, thinking that he might as well have pinned you to the wall. 

It’s like he knows you’re up to some bullshit. Like he could smell it. There’s no way he actually could, but the tiny guilty part of your lizard brain isn’t able to comprehend that right now, not when it feels like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Fuck him.

You steel your flimsy resolve and you try to recover your composure as much as you can, doing your best to make-believe you’re in a nice, quiet place where you could feel at peace (maybe at his funeral) and you somehow make it to the end of your stupid speaking part.

It’s easy to tell how utterly embarrassed your group mates are with your awful presentation, as their parts are much more animated, smoother and definitely confident in comparison—no students snorting or snickering at their desk neighbors during the time they presented. 

But it doesn’t particularly bother you aside from a slight hit to your ego, because you know this professor will read the documentation and ultimately see the amount of work you’d put into the written part of the project. Your shitty teammates could glare at you all they wanted, but you did more than half of the fucking project on your own and that would lead to one thing only—a great fucking score. 

Who needs social skills—not that you were blessed with any—when your future job will probably only require you to sit behind a screen most of the day? That’s something you’re already really fucking good at, to a detrimental point. It’s a real miracle that you made it so far in life without your vision getting much worse than it already is.

“Very good,” the professor says simply.

He begins praising the sturdiness of the project, mentioning your name and making you cringe when he inevitably points out the bumpy part—your bumpy part—of the presentation. Overall, he seems quite impressed with the quality and the execution and promises to email everyone their scores once he’s done correcting them.

“However,” you hear him talk again, his following sentence filling you with unbridled giddiness, “I seem to notice you’re missing a member of your group?” The professor trails off with a furrowed brow as he stares at his notes. “I’m positive I’ve assigned everyone four people, except for the previous group who was the only exception in this class. Your project however, only mentions the three of you. Why is that?” 

He flips through the papers and checks on his barely-working laptop as well, checking for something akin to an error on his part.

“No, you are correct, sir,” you chime in mischievously, “Mr. Shigaraki over there—” you speak up and your eyes meet his unexpectedly focused ones.

His expression seems to turn into one of intrigue, maybe at the prospect of your little scheme. He’s definitely sitting a little straighter than before. Listening. As if this class finally became interesting to him, opposed to almost falling asleep in his chair earlier.

You clear your throat after feeling it contract with a pang of anxiety and continue, “—decided that we weren’t worth his precious time, and sadly did not contribute to our project whatsoever.” You finish your sentence while glancing at your fingernails before completely throwing him under the bus. “In fact he dumped all of his work on us and decided to not communicate. I—um, we thought it was for the best that he shouldn’t take credit over all of our weeks of hard work, sir.”

You almost slipped up, but managed to recover—and then you notice how the other two NPCs in your group stare at you in horror.

Despite tactically lumping them in with you, to save you from getting in potential trouble, they did in fact not know or have any say in your decision to leave Shigaraki out—not that you cared to ask for their worthless opinions anyway. They should be happy for the free full marks that you’re confident they wouldn’t have gotten without your help.

A sly smile begins spreading on your face. 

This was it. Fuck him, his stupid mug and his shitty attitude.

Checkmate, Shigaraki, you muse to yourself, smirking and gauging the reaction of the professor who seems to be deep in thought for a moment.

When you look back at Shigaraki to check how he’s faring—

You feel literal chills running down your spine.

He’s simply… smiling at you.

A wide, creepy and weirdly calculating smile.

A smile that tells you, you’re in trouble.

Like a bucket of ice dropping over your head, you just grasp the weight of your mistake. The reason your classmates stared at you in disbelief. The reason the whole room of people stared at you in disbelief.

He is a rich trust fund kid who, according to the rumors, has a background consisting of only unpunished violence and very fucking little to lose. You are a lower class student, who fucked with him knowing the horrible stories that circled around him.

So why was it again that you decided to not believe he was capable of retaliating, even when you’d found out most students avoided him like the plague? Did you think he would be as pathetic and powerless as you were? Are you projecting again?

Honestly, what the fuck were you thinking?!

All alarms are going off in your useless excuse of a brain and you start feeling an immense amount of dread seeping into your bones. You need to take this back, right fucking now, or who knows what he’s going to—

“I see,” the professor interrupts your train of thought, scratching the stubble on his chin thoughtfully before speaking again, “To be honest with you, I’m considering disqualifying your group’s entire project, for the simple fact that the bunch of you made such a hasty decision, and did not think of consulting with me first to find a solution.”

You feel your gut twist even harder and your two classmates are now rightfully glaring daggers at you.

“I will however opt to only cut your score by twenty percent, because it really is an outstanding project, but I expect this to serve as a reminder that I—do not—tolerate insubordination, and this instance is not to be repeated by any of you.” The professor looks at your group, then at Shigaraki himself. “Have I made myself properly understood?”

You feel shame burn your cheeks red as you nod before the figure of authority, but the boy in the back wasn’t listening anymore.

It was as if the rest of the world—save for the two of you—ceased to exist at that moment.

[swiftie-fault]

THE ERAS TOUR (MY VERSION)

dear reader (intro) - lavender haze (mini speech "oh, hi!")

we are neve ever getting back together x wonderland (intro) - maroon

(mashup, WANEGBT: verse 1, first pre-chorus. wonderland: 1 chorus, 1 pre-chorus. WANEGBT: bridge, starts on “(...) So, he calls me...”

bejeweled

fearless (acoustic)

the story of us x getaway car - cruel summer

(mashup, taylor sings TSOU up to “I've never heard silence quite this loud” loud with a long note and then transitions to “No, nothin' good starts in a getaway car” and then to the bridge of this same song, sings the rest of the song and then starts CS)

wildest dreams x all of the girls you loved before

(WD: verse 1, bridge. AOTGYLB: from the bridge, all the following song)

cornelia street x lover (speech) (acoustic)

(CS: all the song until before the bridge, lover: from the bridge all the rest of the song).

enchanted - dear john

teardrops on my guitar (acoustic)

the 1 - the lakes (bridge - chorus)

cowboy like me - i can fix him (no really i can)

all too well (10 minutes version) (mini speech) (acoustic)

august

marjorie - clara brow (speech, ovation like CP) (piano CB)

Canción sorpresa 1:

Canción sorpresa 2:

out of the woods - new romantics

look what you made me do x shake it off

(LWYMMD: “I don't trust anyone and no one trusts me, But old Taylor can't come to the phone right now. Why? Oh, (bad dreams) 'cause she's dead” verse 1, 1 pre-chorus, 1 chorus, "ah- ah", version rock. SIO: 1 verse, 1 pre-chorus, chorus, 1 post-chorus, mixed with the background interlude, bridge with guitar electric, chorus, outro)

state of grace x red

(SOG: 1 verse, 2 verses, pre-chorus, bridge, chorus, “And never (Never) I saw you coming And I never (Never) saw you coming (And I've loved in wrong tones) Be the same (We learn to live with the pain) (Mosaic of broken hearts) (But this love is brave and wild)". red: bridge, chorus, breakdown, outro)

Betty - Cárdigan (mini discurso) (Betty acústica)

my tears ricochet - the archer

tolerate it x right where you left me

(TI: 1 verse, chorus, bridge. RWYLM: pre-chorus (the one after the bridge) final chorus. TI: outro)

i can do it with a broken heart

vigilante shit

mastermind - karma

would've could've should've - this is me trying (piano) (speech)

long live x you're on your own kid (acoustic)

(the exact same mashup taylor did on the eras tour)

delicate x daylight

(delicate: intro. daylight: the whole song, without the final audio)

If you want to listen to it you can see it on spotify (https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3I7IMCOj79FPb8BeHAmhBb?si=0042181f29ec4793)

I hope you love this concept as much as I do!

[angelfic]

omg hiii ni, guess who's backkkkk (istg exams suck sb, like wdym i have two weeks)

i just came to check in on one my favorite ever marauders authors

-also currently the world is a bit topsy turvy so-

i'm here with some silly little questions, once more ✨✨😌

firstlyyy how are YOUUU, that's such a vague question, so if you like had to choose like three emojis to answer that, which ones would you pick

and another one, what's your fav taylor swift album and since i js saw a pinterest whisper ab this, what's your stance on the whole combining taylor swift with the Marauders thing (ik some people are rllyyyy passionate ab it 😭)

and lastly, mb it's js cs i needa romanticise my academics more, but what do you think the marauders' favorite /most hated subjects are 🤠

take care and i hope your day is going wonderfully so far xx

-🪐

heyyyyy omg good luck in ur exams!! I feel you I have one Monday 😭

also I do not deserve that title please

uhhh I’m like 🫥🫠🙂‍↕️ rn if I’m being honest. studying is gonna kill me

ok so growing up my favourite album was fearless and couple years ago I’d be on the side of marauders x taylor swift (I’m assuming u mean like using her songs to marauders edits or stories or smth im not down with the kids like that rn) but me and blondie are on the outs now idk im realising as an adult that a lot of celebrities are kinda awful for being so famous and yet never saying shit abt palestine (and in her case hanging out with trump supporters yeeesh) I don’t rlly think abt her much anymore idk

cue lola tung voice oh my god I love this questionnnn uhm I think

james and charms because marauder prankster silly little guy etc I think DADA is a basic answer but that too. james hates history of magic because he’s a typical british boy/class clown and a boring professor who drones on doesn’t give him the chance to be funny in class half the time

sirius also likes charms and DADA and muggle studies gives him a little thrill bc his parents would hate it. he hates care of magical creatures (because I say so) and arithmancy I think

remus likes potions and history of magic and transfiguration because he feels he has more control changing things where he doesn’t have that same control over his own body, dislikes DADA for obvious reasons (idc that he taught it) and also astronomy.

peter dislikes most subjects because he’s bad at them. this blog is not a safe space for peter pettigrew. sorry. ( i think he’d like charms though. probs herbology)

damn this was a long one thank you for asking though 🫶💌