#taylor swift postcards | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

maplesyrupsainz · 1 year ago

Text

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙meme | LN4 ˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: lando norris x y/n reader (she/her)

genre: social media au, established relationship

warnings: none rly it's jus fun & fluff

summary: in which you love causing mischief and mayhem and both of your fans eat it up

a/n: i liked this request but had no idea how to rly like execute it in fic at all but i had the idea just to have them being silly on the tl hahah hope that works ok & u guys like it?! sorry if it's shorttt

request!!!: idea!!! omg have you seen that girl on tiktok, i think she goes by dj mandy, and she pretends to be a serious dj and mashups the most random songs with a straight face,,, im picturing landos girlfriend with that type of humour in a fic😭

fc: various blonde girls from pinterest

my masterlist

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by landonorris, yourbff, and 328,871 others

yourusername 🎀🍪

tagged: landonorris

view all 7,193 comments

landonorris ok

landonorris why do you always pick these random pics of me to post like we dont have any nice pics ?

yourusername funnyy

landonorris ur the only one laughing

oscarpiastri not true

danielricciardo i laughed too

carlossainz55 and me

landonorris oh great. her minions are here

user5 i love y/n's aesthetic photo dumps being ruined by lando 💀

user6 nah it adds to the vibes imo

user7 my fav wag

user8 she's soo funny she doesn't care what anyone thinks at all 💀

twitter ->

instagram ->

landonorris

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, and 742,921 others

landonorris virtual postcards

tagged: yourusername

view all 11,183 comments

yourusername ruff ruff ruff ruff ruff ruff rufffff

yourusername thts my man thts my man

yourusername awoooo awoo awoo 🌙

carlossainz55 what you doing right now

yourusername howling at the moon. you?

landonorris dont question her carlos

yourusername omg. he's defending my weird behaviour ...... 😊

landonorris well yes. no one else will

carlossainz55 🤨🤨🤨

user12 he is so pretty

user13 omg lol at y/n going feral in the comments 💀

user14 im obsessed with her

user15 my fav couple ever

yourusername

liked by landonorris, georgerussell63, and 512,872 others

yourusername on tht gang shittt

view all 6,229 comments

landonorris what you on about gang shit for

yourusername isnt it cool

landonorris no not at all

yourusername right well i heard george say it

georgerussell63 liar

yourusername someone british said it

georgerussell63 well it wasnt bloody me

user16 y/n getting bullied in the comments by british men 💀

user17 awww her & lando r so in love even tho they are always bullying eachother

user18 lol she's so funny

user19 as if george russell would ever say something like gang shit 😭

yourbff "gang shit" & there's absolutely no one else in the pics apart from ur bf on a tv

landonorris right? that's what im saying

yourusername ok sorry for using it incorrectly i'll do better next time.

yourusername

liked by yourbff, alex_albon, and 601,478 others

yourusername on that gang shit for real this time

tagged: yourbff, alex_albon, lilymhe, carlossainz55, landonorris

view all 8,273 comments

landonorris this one i'll allow however why am i last

lilymhe dont take it personally lando

yourusername u deserve it for bullying me about saying gang shit

alex_albon it's true you barely even deserve a spot at all lando

landonorris right well you guys are mean

carlossainz55 hey bestie hey bestie hey bestie hey bestie

landonorris stop harassing my girlfriend

yourusername hey carlos miss you

user20 not carlos spamming hey bestieee

user21 omgg i didnt know she's friends with alex and lily

user22 she's lowkey friends with everyone😭😭

twitter ->

instagram ->

landonorris

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo, and 891,013 others

landonorris she's not getting rid of me that easy

tagged: yourusername

view all 14,194 comments

danielricciardo if you guys actually broke up and her first reaction to it was to post taylor swift lyrics with a george russell meme you have every right to be mad

yourusername LOL soo valid

landonorris i wouldn't even be surprised if she did this

danielricciardo me neither

yourusername urm i would never do that

oscarpiastri you sure?

yourusername not you too oscar 😔

user26 AWWW

user27 this is lando's equivalent of a dog pissing on a lamppost

user28 marking his territoryyyyy iktrrr

yourbff aww you love her for real

landonorris well duh have you seen her.

user29 AWWWW soppy lando

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, and 782,755 others

yourusername my life as a (the best) wag & i wouldn't have it any other way

tagged: landonorris

view all 7,572 comments

lilymhe will challenge you for best wag spot

yourusername tbh i'd let you have it

lilymhe awww we can share it 🥰

user30 aww y/n being srs for once

user31 AHH my favs

user32 favs being soppy & cute on main 🥰

user33 y/n is so me. weird & cute!

user34 fr she's just one of the girls

user35 no literally i want her to be my bff

landonorris not you being nice and normal for once

yourusername ruff ruff ruff bark bark bark awoooo awoo awoooo bark bark bark!!!

landonorris right well. nevermind

yourusername I LOVE YOU!!!

landonorris i love you more sweetheart

THE END 🧡

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 smau #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #smau #lando norris #ln4 #ln4 fluff #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 x reader #ln4 x you #ln4 x y/n #ln4 smau #maddie's smau

3K notes · View notes

satellite-evans · 2 months ago

Text

champagne problems

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader

Summary: Charles and you endure champagne problems.

Word count: 3.7k+

Warnings: angst, based on the Taylor Swift song.

A/N:

I’m here yet again with another fic for the folkmore series, this time with Charles and one of my favorite songs champagne problems!! Hope you will like it xxx

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

Monaco, December 24th, 2024.

The air was bitter, the kind that cut through your layers and sank deep into your bones, leaving a sting in its wake. Snowflakes drifted from the sky, delicate and fleeting, landing softly on the stone streets of the city. The Mediterranean breeze twisted around the towering buildings like a whisper, and the scent of saltwater clung to the crisp air, mingling with the rich, earthy fragrance of pine from the nearby trees. It should have been a postcard-perfect scene, like something you’d seen in the movies. Streets lined with glittering lights, windows glowing with warmth, the soft hum of Christmas songs drifting from hidden speakers in the corners of the square.

It should have felt magical.

But you stood still, numb, feeling the cold deep in your chest—not from the temperature, but from something much more hollow, something far deeper. It felt as though the weight of the world had settled onto your shoulders. The joyous atmosphere around you, the laughter, the chatter—it all felt so distant, so alien, like a dream that was slowly slipping through your fingers. You should have been swept up in it, should have been laughing, should have been smiling as you stood here, in the heart of Monaco, your heart bursting with excitement for what was to come. But you couldn’t. The warmth of the season only made the emptiness inside you more evident, more painful.

You were standing in Place du Casino, the world seemingly alive around you—tourists and locals alike, clutching steaming cups, their eyes bright with holiday cheer. Some of them were caught up in the magic, others were just passing through. But you? You felt like you were watching them from a distance, like you didn’t belong. The sound of laughter, the clinking of cups, the festive music that had once made your heart flutter—now it only stirred a painful knot in your throat. It was beautiful, almost too beautiful, but there was no joy to be found in it. It felt suffocating. Stifling. A stark reminder of everything you were losing.

Because you knew.

You had been here before, in this very place, years ago. With him. With Charles.

The man who had once been your everything.

The man you had once believed you’d spend forever with.

But forever had never come.

Charles had swept you off your feet back in college—he had been the one who saw you, the quiet girl who preferred the corners of the room, who shied away from crowds. He had found a way to love you that was both overwhelming and gentle. He was your safe place, your anchor, the person you thought you could always turn to. He had been there for every up, every down, standing beside you through the lowest points of your life, offering a love so pure you sometimes wondered if it was real. You had built a life together, sharing quiet mornings, spontaneous trips, and whispered dreams. He was the constant you never thought would change.

But something had shifted, over time. Something you couldn’t pinpoint at first, but that had slowly grown until it felt like an insurmountable chasm between you. The smiles had become more forced, the touches more distant. The moments of laughter had been replaced with silence, the kind of silence that felt so loud you could hear the echoes of every unsaid word.

And now, standing in this winter wonderland, surrounded by the lights and laughter, you could feel it more acutely than ever. You had been expecting tonight to be the night—the night he would ask the question you had been waiting for. He had planned it all: the perfect dinner, the perfect view, the perfect moment. You had imagined it a thousand times. A proposal beneath the stars, a promise to be together forever. This was it, wasn’t it? This was supposed to be the culmination of everything you had built.

But it wasn’t.

Because when he had looked at you tonight, his eyes full of hope, full of expectation, you had felt nothing but dread.

The ring was heavy in his pocket, and you had seen it when his hand brushed against yours earlier. The moment you’d been waiting for, for years, had arrived—but it had been swallowed by a suffocating truth: you didn’t want it anymore. You couldn’t take that next step, not with him. Not when the love that had once burned so brightly had dimmed into something cold and distant.

You wanted it to be different. You wanted to feel the joy everyone else seemed to be basking in, the excitement of a life-changing moment. But instead, you felt like you were drowning in the heaviness of it all. The weight of a future that no longer felt right, of a love that had become a shadow of what it once was.

And that was the hardest part.

The hardest part was knowing that, in the deepest part of your heart, you still loved him. But the love that had once been a fire was now little more than a flicker in the dark, and you were terrified to admit that it was fading, slipping through your fingers like the snowflakes falling around you.

Tonight was supposed to be the beginning of forever. But you both knew, deep down, it wasn’t

Earlier that day.

The morning had arrived with a heavy, unsettling stillness in the air, a quiet pressure that you couldn’t shake, no matter how hard you tried. The feeling settled in your chest, like an invisible weight pressing against your ribs. You had woken up with a knot in your stomach, one that didn’t make sense. Everything around you had seemed perfect—Charles had been so full of life, so full of hope the night before. His excitement had been infectious, a bright spark in the cold, and you had desperately tried to match his energy, to slip into the joy of the occasion, to feel the same way he did. But beneath the surface, something was wrong, something that you couldn’t explain or put into words.

You had tried to ignore it. You had tried to push it aside, to pretend it wasn’t there. But it lingered, the storm cloud in your chest that refused to dissipate.

You spent the day preparing, as expected—how could you not? The evening was going to be everything, a night you both had imagined for so long. A night so carefully curated, with every detail planned down to the smallest moment. The gown was beautiful—simple, elegant, the kind of thing you knew would look perfect in Monaco's polished streets. You’d stood in front of the mirror, watching the fabric settle around your body, knowing it made you look beautiful. Charles had even helped pick it out, and that should have felt meaningful, special, but instead, it only served as a reminder that you were caught between two worlds—one of polished perfection and one of unspeakable doubt.

Your makeup was soft, the way he liked it—light and understated—but as the brush touched your skin, you couldn’t help but feel like you were hiding behind it, like the layers you were putting on were also covering up the truth inside. The scent of your mother’s perfume lingered in the air, sweet and familiar, but it only brought memories of a time when everything had seemed simpler. Now, it felt like you were drowning in those memories, suffocating under the weight of them, as though they were the only thing left holding you to a life you weren’t sure you wanted anymore.

Still, you smiled. You smiled because you had to. You smiled because he needed you to, because the man who had been so eager, so in love with you the night before, was waiting downstairs, his heart full of hope and expectation.

And yet, even as you stood there in the mirror, your reflection staring back at you, you felt like a stranger.

Something was slipping through your fingers, and you could no longer ignore it. The distance between you and Charles had stretched, ever so quietly, like a crack running through the foundation of something you once thought was unbreakable. His presence had always been a comfort, a constant you could rely on, but now, lately, it felt more like an absence. It wasn’t that he had changed, or that he had done anything wrong. It was you—you were the one who had changed, who had become distant, unsure. You felt like you were slipping away from him, becoming someone he no longer understood, and no matter how hard you tried to reach out, no matter how much you tried to hold onto the version of you both once knew, it felt like the distance between you was growing wider by the day.

It was too much.

Too much to bear. The pretending, the hiding.

You could have told him. You could have stopped the charade right then and there. You could have said the words, finally admitted what had been building in your chest for so long—that you weren’t sure you could keep pretending anymore. That the weight of carrying this fragile illusion, this love that no longer fit, was becoming unbearable. But instead, you held it in, swallowed the truth like you had so many times before.

So you smiled. You forced the smile that didn’t reach your eyes, that didn’t touch your soul, and you walked down the grand staircase of your apartment, your steps heavy, each one pulling you further from the person you used to be. Ready to meet him. Ready to pretend.

Because, at least for tonight, that’s what you had to do. Pretend.

Back in the square.

The world around you felt like a blur, a dream you couldn’t wake up from, as though you were hovering above it all, disconnected from reality. The laughter, the chatter, the clinking of glasses—all of it seemed so distant, as if muffled by an invisible wall. It was as though you were watching life unfold from behind a thick pane of glass, unable to touch or reach it. And then, in the midst of that hazy, detached feeling, you saw him.

Charles.

He was walking toward you through the crowd, his face a mixture of excitement and nerves, so familiar and yet so far away. His tousled hair was perfect tonight, a slight wave that somehow made him look even more effortlessly charming. His eyes sparkled with that same brightness, the same gleam that had first caught your attention all those years ago, that had drawn you in and made you believe in the possibility of forever.

But now, as your gazes met, it was as though time slowed down. Everything you had been holding back, everything he had hoped for, collided in that single moment. It was supposed to be beautiful—his love, your love, everything you had built—but instead, it felt like an illusion. A moment where the past and future tangled together, but neither seemed real. Nothing felt like it belonged anymore.

He reached you, and his smile was warm, so full of love and anticipation—but beneath it, you could see the uncertainty, the fear. He took your hand in his gently, like he was afraid you might slip through his fingers if he didn’t hold on tight enough.

"You look amazing," he whispered, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His touch sent a shock through you, but it wasn’t the warmth you had once felt—it wasn’t the feeling that had once made your heart race. It was a reminder, sharp and painful, of everything you had lost, of the person you used to be when you looked at him with the certainty of love, of belonging. But now? Now, his touch felt like an anchor, pulling you down into a place you couldn’t bear to be.

He led you into the center of the square, where a small group of friends and family waited, their faces glowing in the soft light of Christmas decorations. They were all smiling, their voices light as they chatted over glasses of champagne. The air smelled of pine and cinnamon, the soft hum of carolers in the background filling the air with warmth. The entire scene was beautiful, almost unbearably so. It was the perfect setting, the culmination of everything Charles had been planning, everything he had dreamed of.

This was it.

Your heart thundered in your chest, a loud, rhythmic pounding that drowned out the music and the conversation around you. You could feel the weight of every pair of eyes on you, the quiet expectation in the air. You had been with Charles for years—long enough that it should have been easy, natural. But now? Now, you couldn’t even look at him without feeling like you were drowning, suffocating under the weight of what he was about to ask. You had already known, for so long, that you weren’t ready for this. That you weren’t sure you could keep pretending, keep lying to both him and yourself. But you had smiled. You had nodded. You had let him carry you to this moment, all while knowing you couldn’t escape it.

The thought of saying yes made you want to crawl out of your own skin. It felt like suffocation. And the thought of walking away, of breaking his heart, felt like something far worse—a sharp, twisting pain that cut deep into your soul.

And then, as if in a dream that you couldn’t control, he dropped to one knee.

"Mon amour," he began, his voice thick with emotion, "You’ve been my best friend, my partner, my love, for so long. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to build our future together. Will you marry me?"

The world seemed to stop. The bustling square fell into an eerie silence. The champagne glasses stilled in the air. You could hear nothing but the rapid, uneven beat of your own heart, your breath shallow, trapped somewhere between your chest and throat. You stared at him—at the ring he was holding, gleaming under the soft glow of the Christmas lights. It was beautiful. It was everything he had dreamed of.

But when you looked into his eyes, all you saw was a future you couldn’t be a part of. You saw the man who had once been your whole world, who had held you close in moments of joy and despair alike. And yet now, you couldn’t reconcile the woman you were with the woman he thought you were. You were so tired—so incredibly tired—of carrying this weight, this expectation, this illusion of a future that no longer fit. You were someone he couldn’t reach, and you weren’t sure you could keep pretending you were.

"I’m sorry," you whispered, your voice barely audible against the silence that had descended. "I can’t."

It was a punch to the gut. A brutal, hollow punch. You watched the light drain from his face, the warmth in his features evaporating as confusion and disbelief took its place. His eyes searched yours, as though hoping to find something that would make this make sense, some explanation he could cling to, something that would reassure him that you were still there, still the person he thought you were. But you weren’t. And you couldn’t be.

"I love you," you choked out, your voice cracking, "but I need to be alone right now. I need to fix myself. I need to find myself. I can’t… I can’t marry you."

The silence that followed was deafening. The crowd, once vibrant with excitement, was now frozen in shock. You could feel the weight of their gazes, the disbelief and the hushed whispers. But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but the hollow echo of your own voice, the steady ache in your chest that refused to go away.

With a final glance at Charles—at the man who had once been your everything—you turned away, walking away from him, from the life you had once thought you would share, from the future he had dreamed of. And as you walked, the world felt colder, emptier, as if you had left behind everything that had once been so full of promise.

The aftermath.

The following days in Monaco were a blur, each one blending into the next like the pages of a book you couldn’t bring yourself to finish. Christmas came and went with all the cheer that the season should bring, but somehow, everything seemed muted, distant. The festive lights that had once felt like tiny sparks of magic now seemed to flicker weakly, the warmth of their glow faded. The streets, so vibrant and alive just days before, now felt hollow, as if the life had been drained from them along with your own.

The whispering started immediately. It wasn’t surprising, not really. Monaco was a small place, where everyone knew everyone, and stories traveled faster than the sea breeze. But knowing it was coming didn’t make it any easier. It wasn’t just the subtle, sidelong glances in the cafés or the knowing looks passed between strangers in the markets. It was the words. The cold, sharp words, laced with judgment and pity.

You heard them everywhere. "Poor Charles," they would murmur behind their hands, their voices filled with exaggerated sympathy, as though he were the victim in all of this. "How could she do that to him?" they’d ask, as if you were some kind of monster, as if you had ripped his heart out for no reason. It was painful, but it didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. Maybe you had steeled yourself, prepared for the backlash in a way that left you numb to it all. You couldn’t deny it—there were times when the weight of their words crushed you, when the sting of their judgment felt almost unbearable. But they didn’t know. They couldn’t possibly know.

“She was never good enough for him anyway,” one woman had said, shaking her head as she passed you on the street, the words cutting like a knife. "She was always a little unstable, wasn’t she?" someone else added, louder than necessary, almost as if they wanted you to hear. "She would've made such a lovely bride, what a shame she's fucked in the head," they said as if they were speaking about the truth.

It wasn’t your mental health that made you walk away, but their words never let you forget the hurt they tried to lay at your feet. It wasn’t about being unstable. It wasn’t about failing in any way they could quantify. No, it was about a truth you hadn’t been able to face until that moment in the square, when everything came crashing down in an instant. It was about realizing that you were no longer the person you had been when you and Charles first met, that you had lost something inside yourself long before that night.

And Charles? He disappeared. Completely. You tried reaching out, at first—texts, calls, the occasional message left unanswered. But you never heard back. And after a while, you stopped trying. What was there to say? How could you explain to him that the love you’d shared was no longer enough to keep you from suffocating under the weight of expectations, both his and your own? How could you explain that the person he thought he knew, the person who had loved him with all her heart, was gone? You couldn’t.

You didn’t blame him for the silence. How could you? What could you possibly say that would make sense of the mess you had left behind? The pain, the heartbreak—you could feel it in every empty space where his presence used to be. But it wasn’t just the silence from him that hurt. It was the loneliness that began to settle in, a deep, gnawing kind of loneliness that made you question whether you would ever be able to fill the hole he had left behind.

But there was something else, too. Every night, as you walked through the quiet streets of Monaco, the city’s glittering lights reflecting off the water and the chill of winter biting at your skin, your heart would feel heavier, sinking lower with each step you took. You missed him. God, you missed him. The sound of his laugh, the way he looked at you with so much love, the feeling of his hand in yours, steady and sure. But no matter how much you missed him, you knew, deep down, that you couldn’t go back to him. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

Not while you were still a stranger to yourself.

The thought of being with him again, of putting on that smile and pretending like everything was okay, like everything could go back to the way it was, was unbearable. You couldn’t offer him the love he deserved, not when you were still tangled up in the wreckage of your own heart. You needed to find the girl you once were—the girl who had been whole before all of this, before the doubts, the fear, the slow unraveling of something that should have been forever. You needed to find yourself again before you could even think about being with him.

And so you walked. Every night, through the empty streets of Monaco, you walked. You walked because it was the only thing you could do. The only thing that made sense in the chaos of your mind. You tried to find pieces of yourself, moments of clarity, in the quiet of the night, under the cold winter stars. You tried to remind yourself of who you were before him, before the love you had shared became a heavy chain, pulling you deeper into the murky waters of doubt and uncertainty.

But it wasn’t easy.

Some nights, the emptiness felt suffocating, like the weight of the world was on your shoulders, and you were carrying it all alone. You had loved him so fiercely, so completely, and letting him go had been the hardest thing you had ever done. But you knew, even in your darkest moments, that it had been the right thing. It had to be. Because as much as you loved him, you knew that you couldn’t be the person he needed while you were still lost. And maybe, just maybe, there was a chance that when you found yourself again, you could be the woman he deserved.

But for now, that was all you could do. Find yourself. Learn to breathe without the weight of his absence pressing down on you. And hope, with every step you took, that someday, somewhere, you would learn how to love again.

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