#watching the world from the sidelines had nothing to prove

[aropride]

im going to start sobbing audibly

[thelonelynindroid]

When the fucking shuffle hits you with Phoebe Bridgers Sidelines on the DAY you're watching geothermal escapism

[jonathanbyersphd]

[twelverriver]

sidelines by phoebe bridgers coded ships you are soo loved <33

[mayclair]

thinking about sidelines by phoebe bridgers. like why did she write that

[illyrian-dreamer]

Make a bargain with me

Rhys x reader angst/fluff one shot

Summary: Your unrequited love for your High Lord has seen you distancing yourself not just from Rhys, but the entire inner circle. Rhys is concerned, and confronts you.

Word count: 2.2k

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You shifted uncomfortably under Rhys’s stare, keeping your eyes fixed the night’s horizon, still with anticipation of starfall that was yet to begin.

“What’s going on Y/N?” he asked softly. 

He had sprung you from your hideaway. It was stupid, really, to think you could escape him, or that he wouldn't follow. 

Tonight on Starfall, when your family and friends were drinking and laughing and toasting to a better year ahead, you had held yourself back, observing from the sidelines, longing to partake as you had each year before.

But things were different now, you were different. It had been a stressful year to say the least – too many losses, too many sacrifices made on missions that you couldn’t come to terms with. Choices made, last words said – the turmoil of your mistakes was a constant loop in your mind, each of your missions weighing heavier than the last, a little piece of you left behind on along the way.

And where you would usually confess or turn to your family for the support you desperately craved, it was all skewed by the devastating, gut-wrenching love you had developed for your High Lord.

You wondered what your friends might say – their snorts and sorry smiles as you dreamed of a life with not just any High Lord, but the High Lord of the Night Court, who was only just finding his feet. 

It was only shy of a decade since Rhys lost his sister and mother, leaving the male to wade through the trenches of grief alone, which were only deepened by the weight of responsibility as he assumed position as High Lord of the Night Court. You hadn't known him before he recruited you to the inner circle, but in your few years of working for Rhys, he had aged, maturing into his title and proving himself as a true and honest leader.

And in those years, not once had you seen him take to a lover or celebrate romance in his life. You knew that your love for Rhys would be nothing more than an imposition – a burden for him to manage in a world where he was not ready to love again, especially not someone like you. 

But concealing your feelings had a very true affect in physicality – you were plagued with guilt, rigid  by unrequited, unconfessed love practically bursting to come out. Skittish manoeuvres to avoid his touch, aloofness at times where you were known to share and console – you had done excellent work to distance yourself from Rhys, and with it the rest of the inner circle. 

Even the blatant probing by Cassian to open up, or gentle suggestions from Azriel to join them on flights went politely declined as you assured them you were fine. And the times where your work was too much, when you needed to tell your High Lord the burdens you were baring and seek comfort from him as a friend – instead you bottled it up, unsure of what you might confess and afraid of the very real affect of someone who was not yet ready to love. 

Rhysand had been particularly observant tonight. Your own behaviour was predictable as of late, but after the first bashful glances to the ground, reddened cheeks where you used to bite back, and the distant, distracted manner in which you watched on – you felt watchful violet eyes on you all evening.

The tipping point had been Rhysand’s speech, a glass of auburn liquid raised high as he spoke to his sincere care and affection for each of you in his circle. He was thankful for all of you, for being the self-made family he could have only ever dreamed of having. But as he spoke to each of the members, starting with his second-in-charge, followed by Mor, Cassian then Azriel, you had slipped from the room before he could get to you. 

Because in that speech - he had shown that he still loved, just not in the way that you craved. And if you had learnt anything through both your career at the Night Court and from Rhys himself – it was that happiness could be stolen in an instant. 

So you fled, heart thumping as you craved fresh air – overwhelmed with cyclical thoughts and foolish amounts of fae wine. 

After a polite ten minutes, Rhys had followed, finding the flattened patch of roof you often sought out after long missions, now stripping you bare under his gaze.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

Rhys winced with worry. “I asked what’s going on with you?”

You forced a small smile, keeping your breathing as even as you could. You were trained to stay calm when interrogated, but somehow this was harder than some of the life threatening circumstances you had endured. It was almost laughable.

"Nothing at all," you forced your eyes to his, your stomach dropping at his beauty.

Rhys’s face remained concerned, completely unconvinced. 

“Is it work?”

“No.” A half-truth.

Rhys nodded, a sense of relief that his court was not to blame.

A few moments of silence, you were burning from within, cheeks flushing yet again. You allowed for a moment to imagine his reaction if you were to tell him. Imagined his face as you confessed your feelings for him – your High Lord, your employer. How ridiculous and wildly inappropriate. 

Your face flushed a deeper pink at the shame of it. Rhys’s eyes dotted to your cheeks, not missing a thing.

He leveled a look at you. “You can always be honest with me.” You felt a gentle caress on your mental shields, and it was an instinct you cursed yourself for to seize them higher at his touch.

You moved your eyes back to the horizon, sighing with frustration. He was here, he cared – perhaps you could just, try?

“How did you do it?” you asked ominously, a pained frown pulling at your brow.

Rhys shifted at your question, brows raising in surprise. “Do what?”

You cleared your throat. “How did you let yourself love again, when you know how quickly it can be taken away?”

Rhys nodded slowly, violet eyes softening with understanding.

“Would you believe me if I said it was easy?” he replied.

You gave a small laugh, looking down at your hands. “No, actually.”

“Well it was.”

Another beat of silence. 

“Opening my home to all of you, creating this family is the easiest thing I’ve ever done, because it was meant to be.”

You nodded back. You would never tell him how easy it is for you to fall in love with him too. How quickly it had happened, how natural it felt for you.

“I would risk everything I have to have to keep you all safe and content, even just for one more day.”

His words struck you. Risk – there was too much to lose.

“I would risk everything I have for anyone I love, I think,” he continued. “I know that now, that it’s important to let go of what I can’t control, and let myself risk it all.”

He loved your family so dearly – it felt traitorous to indulge in the idea that your love could evolve past the sincere platonic form that it took now. You were greedy, spoilt.

“But that doesn’t just apply to my love for my court.”

Huh?

“As you know, anyone I care for is automatically a target beyond Velaris. My brothers, Mor, Amren.” Rhys paused. “And you.”

You looked up at him, his violet eyes unreadable as stars winked in their depths.

“I don’t want you to risk what you have for me,” your voice was barely a whisper, and you wondered if he sensed the deeper implication of your words.

Rhys wore a soft, sideways smile as he spoke. “You are well worth the risk.”

You were sure he could hear your fastened heart, no longer able to conceal your feelings. For a year your secret had lived at the tip of your tongue, threatening to ruin everything you had. It was too much to bare.

Silent tears started to run down your cheeks.

Rhys’s eyebrows clenched in concern, and he stepped towards you, reaching to brush them away with a stroke of of his cool fingers. You tried to step away, turning your face in shame – but he held your shoulders, a gentle hand pulling your chin to face him.

Violet beheld you again, and you forced yourself to not look away. Maybe you could face him, face your truth. Maybe, you could be as brave as him.

“You are so beautiful, Y/N,” Rhys said softly, his hands cupping your face as he brushed away your tears. “I don’t think I need to tell you that I’m very fond of you.”

Your heart thrummed, pulsing with instinct. Say it, out loud, risk it! it seemed to shout.

You bought your hands up to his, holding them as you took a deep breath.

“And I am fond of you.”

Rhys’s face lit up as stars twinkled in his eyes. He was devastatingly handsome, and the smile that pulled at his sharp cheek bones threatened your knees to buckle.

You couldn’t help the tears that kept running. You were given in, risking it all, and there was no coming back. 

Rhys leaned in close to your face, his fresh scent filling the air around you. He placed a gentle kiss on each of your tear stained cheeks before licking the salty liquid from his perfect lips.

You stared at him in awe, his beauty enveloping your view.

“Fond, on my behalf, is an understatement,” he murmured, tilting your chin upwards to him. 

A gentle hand snaked behind your back, pulling you against his body. The feeling of him softly pressed to you made you throb, and you continued to stare up at his face, unable to hide your own shock. 

He brushed your hair behind your ear, before cupping your jaw.

“So beautiful,” he said again, before leaning down and placing his lips on yours gently.

The kiss was soft, more attentive than you had ever experienced. You succumbed to it, letting your body relax into his hold as he pulled you in closer with the arm at your back, strengthening to hold your knees truly gave out at his touch.

You own arms naturally made their way to his hair and neck, trying to pull yourself closer.

Rhys chuckled into the kiss, inhaling as he traced his tongue along your lips, asking for permission.

A moan escaped you as you gained Rhys his entrance, his tongue sliding sensually over yours.

Your skin was alight, senses heightened and perked as every part of you ached and begged to never let go.

But a guilty conscience had Rhys pulling away from your lips, a small smirk pulling at your frustrated moan.

“Y/N,” he straightened, suddenly more serious. “I didn't come here to only confess my affection.”

“I wouldn’t mind if you did,” you hummed, fingers on your mouth as your lips tingled with his lingering touch.

When Rhys chuckled, you swore it pleased the Gods.

“The others are just as concerned as I am. You’re withdrawn, proper sleep has escaped you for months, and–"

Your mouth twitched, before you flew up to plant a quick peck on his lips, silencing him. “And what of you, High Lord? How much do you burry in that head of yours? It is hard to know how much to burden onto you, when you are already dealing with so much.”

Violet eyes danced between yours in thought. “Make a bargain with me.”

Your brow quirked. “Pardon me?”

“Promise me, to share the things with which you need support so you may not burden them alone. And I will promise to do the same.”

“Rhys,” you breathed, honoured yet anxious at the vulnerability weaved into a bargain such as that. “Do you know what you’re asking each of us to confess?”

Rhys smiled, shaking his head. “With conditions, of course. This will be for those things that you know you shouldn’t keep to yourself, the truths you know the other would want to help with.”

You couldn't help the grin that pulled at your cheeks. “You’re mad.”

Rhys flicked your nose. “I know what it is to rot from within, Y/N. And in a world of magic and power and darkness, I will not let you burden it alone.”

“Rysand…”

Rhys all but moaned, pulling you in for a searing kiss. “Say yes,” he murmured against your lips.

With clenched eyes, you nodded, aware of the itching sensation on your neck as Rhys enveloped you with another kiss, the etching of your bargain searing to your skin. 

A gentle talon stroked at your mind then, hinting with sensuality.

You opened your eyes, forcing your shields down for the first time in years. 

Rhys growled as he entered your mind, pulling you flush against him as he kissed you deeply. And as the night sky became alive with iridescent streaks of light, the beginnings of starfall went neglected as you and Rhys explored a world of your own.

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AN: Hello dreamers, I just had to get out a one-shot, and I had a few requests to write for the most handsome High Lord! I sincerely hope you liked this, I haven't done a one-shot in a HOT minute!! So glad to be back with them. Comment to join my main tag list anytime, MWA!

[formulawolff]

i. girls like u - t.w.

pairing: reserve female!driver x toto wolff

word count: 2.1k

warnings: morally gray individuals, slow burn, sexual content (intercourse), allusions to sexual content, cursing, marijuana use, references to alcohol use, lots of power imbalance, questionable boss x employee dynamics, light toxicity

a/n: ok this is my semi-return to tumblr after a writing hiatus. this fic is loosely based off of you by the 1975 and several blackbear songs. sorry if this shit is ass. i promise there is more world-building to come in the next chapters (it's been a while since i've wrote somethin' longer than 500 words) lemme know if y'all like it! i missed y'all! <3

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆:

“aren’t you tired?”

fingertips brush along your back, light and gentle. stirring, you blink, stifling a yawn and you nuzzle into the warmth. 

it’s inviting, your lids drooping the moment the tip of your nose brushes along heated skin. a plush comforter shrouds your body, limbs entwined. watery rays of light peek in through drawn blinds, promising of dawn. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆:

“you wore me out. of course i’m tired.”

there’s a rumble in his chest, adam’s apple bobbing as he chuckles, “no, that’s not what i meant.”

“then what did you mean?” bringing your chin upward, your gaze locks with his. 

he flinches slightly at the harshness of your inquiry, a crimson hue tinging his cheeks, “i-i don’t really know. i-i guess i meant to ask if you were tired of watching everyone compete from the paddock. don’t you want to race as well?”

don’t you want to race as well? 

of course i do. every single fucking grand prix i pray that i’ll finally get a chance to be behind the wheel. 

to prove to everyone that i’m just as worthy of a competitor as lewis or george. that i am capable of finishing a race. 

i pray that i finally get a chance to prove that i’m a champion. 

inhaling sharply, your head falls, avoiding any sort of eye contact, “i mean, yeah. of course i want to race. i want to compete just as much as you do, max.”

“i’m sorry if–”

“it’s fine,” you murmur, finding your body clinging to him, head nestling into his chest underneath the covers, “can we just go back to sleep or–”

he exhales, lips connecting with your temple. they trail along your brow bone, placing gentle kisses all the way down to your cheeks, “you know we can’t. it’s qualifying today.”

“right.” your jaw clenches, “there’s nothing more important than qualifying.”

“hey,” fingers grasp your chin, “are you okay?”

“yup,” you nod, “i’m great.”

concern lingers, swimming in his icy blue depths. his tongue darts out, swiping along his lower lip, “you and i both know that’s a lie.”

shrugging, your lips pucker, “maybe i’m just not looking forward to watching everyone chase their dreams while i’m forced to sit on the sidelines.”

in that moment, you sense his demeanor shift. max softens, his muscles relaxing as a hand cups your cheek, thumb caressing your cheekbone, “you know, we could change that.”

your heart thuds, pounding as blood roars in your ears, “how?”

he leans in, his mouth nearly millimeters from yours, “i could pull some strings.”

“and how would you accomplish that?”

max’s voice is low as he continues, his tone laced with a dominance that you rarely heard beyond radios, interviews, or press conferences. it was quite the contrast than the max you were used to. it had you absolutely reeling, scrambling to maintain your composure as a shiver ran down your spine.  

“i could speak with christian, put in a good word for you. there’s a lot of change that’s going to come within these next few months. checo hasn’t resigned quite yet. the contract isn’t finalized there’s still time to get you in at red bull.”

“y-you would do that for me?”

the dutch driver nods, a little too fervently. 

“i would do anything for you.”

there was a sincerity in his words, almost as if it was a promise. a sure one, at that. a promise brimmed with a passion that you could only describe as one emotion. 

love.

you had him right where you wanted him. 

max verstappen, three-time world champion of formula one, was right at your fingertips. the dutch assassin was poised and eager, ready to fire as soon as he was given the word. 

all you had to do was say yes. 

that’s all you had to do. utter those nine words. 

i want to be with you at red bull. i want to be in that second seat.

yet, there was one thing holding you back.

well, more so a culmination of things. 

one, there was that ever-present gnawing, nagging feeling. the guilt was slowly eating you alive, threatening to spill your precious secret at any given moment. two, there was that fear of the unknown. what would happen if you managed to pull this off? would you truly be happy at red bull or were you just trying to worm your way to the top? would that shiny trophy really be worth it if you weren’t fulfilled? 

and well most importantly, the third aspect of it all. would you be able to keep up the facade that you were just friends with max verstappen? it was only a matter of time before your relationship with the dutch driver would come from the shadows and into the light.

it was so much easier to keep things under wraps when no one paid attention to you. 

“max,” you begin, “maybe we should–”

the shrill ring of his phone pierces through the air. leaning over, he plucks the device off the nightstand, grimacing as his eyes scan the contact. 

“it’s christian.”

“what time is it?” you press, “surely it’s not that la–”

“baby, it’s well past eight.”

“shit.” you shoot up, peeling the comforter off, “why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

max follows in suit, shoving a leg through his pants, “cause we were in the middle of an important conversation. i wasn’t going to just interrupt you to tell you i had to leave. that wouldn’t have been fair to you!”

“right,” you scoff, throwing on a hoodie, “you don’t have to act like i’m more important than racing. you live, breathe, eat, and sleep formula one. and i understand tha–”

lips collide with yours, the kiss nearly sucking the breath out of your lungs. it’s fiery, blazing with hunger as your knees buckle. max pulls away, panting ever so slightly. 

“don’t you ever fucking say that. you hear me?”

“yes.”

shaking his head, he makes his way across the room, smoothing out a wrinkle in his jersey before slipping on a shoe, “you mean the world to me. we can talk more about this later, but i really have to go. christian is blowing up my phone asking where i am. fuck. i really hope that no one sees me. do you have a hoodie or something i can borrow?”

crossing over to your makeshift closet, you file through the hangers, pulling a garment off. tossing the sweatshirt to max, you can’t help but giggle at his haphazard state. 

his blonde locks are all over, clearly ruffled from a long night. his clothes are wrinkly, bunched up from being thrown to the floor. the only saving grace is his red bull cap, along with the hoodie you just provided. 

however, the moment he sees the embroidered logo, he rolls his eyes. 

“really?”

“just make sure you take it off before you see christian. and put on some deodorant when you get the chance. you stink,” wrinkling your nose, you blow the dutch driver a kiss as he waves you off. 

yet, he catches the airborne smooch, returning the gesture, “i’ll text you later baby. i lo– i have to really go now. have a good day, all right?”

“i’ll try my best,” you reply, buttoning a pair of jeans, “you know i won’t be doing much.”

“goodbye love!” his voice carries down the hall as he exits your motorhome, the sound of the door echoing throughout the space. 

well, so much for making progress.

there’s a buzz in your pocket, stealing your focus for just a second.

fishing your phone out, your brow furrows. no one really contacted you in the mornings. well, unless it was an emergency or an urgent matter. 

it was a text message, from a sender you were well acquainted with.

it was none other than sir lewis hamilton. eight-time world champion. one of the greatest athletes of all time. 

who just happened to be your fellow teammate. well, fellow teammate and best friend.

who knew that formula one contracts came with a package deal like that?

where art thou, sweet girl? i fear that our team principal is going absolutely mad because you are running very behind. pls hurry before he starts going in on me for being on my phone during a team briefing. 

your thumbs glide across the screen, crafting a careful response.

sorryyyyyy. running late per usual. perks of being in the reserve, right? i’ll be there in like five minutes. 

the reply was instant, phone vibrating once more.

hurry up. toto is pissed. 

gritting your teeth, you shove your phone back into your pocket. luckily, you had packed your go-bag for race weekends the night before. well, before you got preoccupied with max. slipping on a heavier coat, you push through your bedroom door, making your way down the hall. 

exiting your motorhome, you spin on your heel, throwing up the hood as you navigate through the endless maze of the paddock. 

you would think after six months you would know your way around by now.

members of the crew and hospitality chirp greetings and good mornings, earning a mumble here and there in response. graciously, you accept a wellness shot from one of the hosting staff, in hopes that it would perk you up just a tad. 

eventually, you nudge open the door of the briefing room, keeping your head ducked as you settle into your designated seat, lewis spotting you. from across the space, he shoots you a thumbs up, paired with a precious grin, dimples and all. 

the second you slide on your headphones, a voice floods your ears.

it’s brassy and gruff, thick with annoyance, brimmed with that accent you were all too familiar with. 

“good morning, hase. i’m so glad that you could take the time out of your busy schedule and join us this morning.”

it was none other than toto wolff, team principal of mercedes amg petronas.

your boss. 

looking up, you notice him to your far right, perched in his seat. his gaze is lasered in on you, almost piercing. with his brows furrowed and lips wound tightly shut, you couldn’t quite distinguish the emotion plastered across his features.

was it anger? disappointment? sheer and utter regret?

“good morning, toto,” you grumble, heat flooding your cheeks as snickers bubble up from all around.

“as i was saying,” toto clears his throat, “i think that we need a new approach for the remainder of the weekend. clearly george isn’t feeling up to par, so we need to explore our options.”

“i could drive,” george russell, your other teammate coughs, “i want to ra–”

“i don’t think pushing you to your limit is an intelligent idea,” toto cuts in. the words are firm, the team principal continuing, “let’s face it, with ferrari and mclaren in the mix this season, we are desperate for points. we need to make a strong move this weekend or else we are going to fall behind. even more so than we already are.”

the voices trail off as your mind wanders, your focus dissipating by the second. typically, you never paid too much attention to the briefings anyway. after all, they did not pertain to you. they usually were directed at the engineers, strategists, george, and lewis. 

not like you needed to really pay attention too closely. you were just kind of there. a body in the room.

the backup plan. 

fuck, did that absolutely torture you. so much potential wasted. all of your blood, sweat, and tears poured into nearly two decades of racing just to end up fiddling with a loose thread of your hoodie as a room full of men bickered about who would fill a fucking seat. 

some fall from grace this was. the 2023 formula two champion reduced to a reserve driver simply because no other team would take her. 

after all, you couldn’t really complain too much. this was the life you chose. you were the one who ultimately made the choice to sign to mercedes for a two-year contract. 

after all, it was your dream to drive for mercedes.

“here’s what we should do,” toto’s voice seeps into your headphones once more, snapping you out of your dazed state, “we should utilize our reserve driver. what is the point of having a reserve driver and not utilizing her?”

“toto,” bono’s voice chimes in, “i’m not sure if–”

“bono,” the fierceness in lewis’ tone takes you aback, “this is what’s best for the team. as a whole. we cannot give it our all if we don't have healthy drivers.”

“george,” toto turns to the british driver, “what do you think? do you have any input?”

“i don’t disagree,” george shrugs, the words hoarse, “i want to be healthy for saudi arabia.”

“then it’s settled,” the team principal shifts towards you, his lips curling into a smug smirk as his arms fold across his chest.

“i think that it’s time for our little hase here to really show us what she is capable of.” 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆:

taglist: @sweetjellyfishland @ts1m1kas @bxuzi @racecardilfs

lemme know if you would like to be tagged for future chapters! <3

[phfenomena]

❝watching the world from the sidelines.❞ || tom blyth x actress!reader

| request - what about sidelines by phoebe bridgers with tom? i feel like that could be really cute. thank you!

| A/N - i love phoebe so much i can't believe i didn't think of this.

| WARNINGS - eating, heat, tom being a cutie patootie, a m*n serenading you, cringey fluff and an overuse of lyrics,

i'm not afraid of anything at all. not dying in a fire, not being broke again.

your head was lying comfortably on the pillow that you call your boyfriend. he was currently reading 'call me by your name' to you and you hung up to every syllable that slipped past his lips. his eyes transfixed on the page while yours were wandering across his face, memorizing every feature you loved so dearly.

"why are you looking at me like that?" his voice didn't even register as his until you saw him look down at you. "like what?" you retort back to him, playing the innocent role. "like you're obsessed with me or something." he teasingly says as he smiles at you. you turn your head away from his and towards the trees and people walking in the park. "i can't even look at you right now, i'm ignoring you." you reply holding your hand up in the air blocking his view of you.

he chuckles and pushes your hand down. "you're so dramatic" he whispers while passing his hand over your hair, smoothing it out. you smile softly and soak in the moment.

had nothing to prove til' you came into my life. gave me something to lose.

"can you believe rachel chose us to dogsit lenny? i feel so honored." tom says as the dog tugs on the leash, clearly giving tom some trouble. you stifle your laugh at the dog pulling him across the sidewalk.

your sat on your sofa with lenny tucked gently in your arms as you both watch the movie you put on. well you're watching the movie, he's staring at tom on the other side of the sofa typing emails. you look from the dog to tom, and then back to lenny. "i'm getting the vibe that he isn't your biggest fan, tom. he's literally looking at you like you killed his family." you manage to squeeze out in between laughs.

i'm not afraid of getting older. used to fetishize myself now i'm talking to my house plants.

the watering can felt heavy in your hand as you watered the collection of flowers and herbs you grew indoors. “you’re looking so pretty these days.” you whispered to your basil plant. “you’re gonna make my tomato soup so good.” the praises to your plants kept pouring out as you watered them. tom leaned the kitchen doorway and watched you talk to your plants. these small moments remind him in all the way he loves you, and you just make him laugh.

not of being alone in a room full of people, watching the world from the sidelines.

you loved watching tom being in his element, and this was it. a movie premiere where he’s being bombarded with questions and interviews. you’ll stand off to the side and watch him answer the same question for the hundredth time, and it’ll never get old. on the rare occasion someone would ask you something, you’d just look to tom in hopes he’d answer for you. he’s telling the interviewer his favorite snack to have on set, but you’re looking at him as if he’s explaining the secrets of the universe.

your hand is wrapped around his bicep as you walk together and he’s telling you the easter eggs hidden in the movie. you nod and smile but haven’t heard a single thing he’s said, he’s just so adorable talking about his work. you haven’t had a lonely moment since the day you met tom, and you wouldn’t change a single thing.

[khristie16]

Social dance ¬ One

An old soul, lost in a modern society ruled by concepts which are normalised. Unable to follow them even if tried enough, a risk to be left alone in the dark, where shadows control life and decisions. To learn the normalised and be stumped in it or unlearn some patterns?

trope: childhood friends -> enemies to lovers format: reader x charles leclerc

triggers in this chapter: physically absent father You're free to leave a comment on how you like it, besos❀

Growing up in a tranquil neighbourhood, where silence was only occasionally interrupted by the distant hum of life, seemed mundane as a child. But now, you find yourself yearning for those days when the world was filled with the magic of fairy tales and the innocent fear of imaginary monsters under your bed. The simplicity of those days, when the biggest worry was dark shadows, feels like a comforting memory against the complexities of adult life.

Even as an adult, there's a part of you that still believes in the fantastical creatures that once haunted your dreams, a reminder of the vibrant imagination of youth. You fondly remember Charles, the boy next door, whose presence was as constant as the changing seasons. Living with his two brothers, he was an integral part of your childhood tapestry.

Those summers spent playing with water guns and pretending to be gangsters, with homemade lemonade as your elixir, are cherished memories. The lemonade's tangy sweetness seemed to cool the essence of summer's heat. As second grade rolled around, new friendships began to form, reshaping the landscape of your young heart.

You laugh now at the simplicity of those early days, where girls played with girls and boys did the same. It was a natural progression, the formation of new groups, so subtle you barely noticed it happening.

As time flowed on, your thirteenth birthday brought with it life-changing news. Your father, a dedicated and brilliant engineer, announced his move to a different city for a better job. His unwavering commitment to providing financial security and happiness for you and your mother was evident, a priority that guided his every decision.

As an introverted and shy girl, you cherished the few friendships you had but longed for close ones. You craved big gatherings but remained loyal to your initial choices.

High school began, and the absence of your best friend at the same school made the transition even harder. Making new friends proved challenging as your interests diverged from those of your classmates. The boys seemed indifferent, drawn to different types of girls. This solitude pushed you to delve into your passions—hobbies and sports that brought you joy—and deepened the bond with your father through shared interests.

Charles reentered your life, capturing your attention once more. As a natural observer, you noted the subtle ways girls behaved around him, ways that were foreign to you. There seemed to be a pattern to their actions, a social dance you hadn't yet mastered. So, you stood on the sidelines, watching and learning.

The classroom buzzes with the low hum of chatter, but your mind is elsewhere. Lost in thoughts, you barely notice your friend, Mary, seated beside you.

“What are you looking at?” Mary's voice breaks through your reverie.

Mary, the blue-eyed gamer girl, sits next to you. Her dark, fine hair frames her face, and her headphones rest casually on her shoulders. She hums a Korean song softly while sketching on her graphic tablet.

You shrug your shoulders. “Nothing.”

Mary nods, her attention returning to her art. After a few moments, she glances at you with curiosity. “Seriously, what are you trying to find there?”

Your gaze drifts to Charles—handsome, with a tall figure and brown, curly hair that looks irresistibly touchable. He's smiling at your classmate Liz, who exudes beauty and confidence. An ache spreads in your chest, but you quickly dismiss it as irrational.

“He's hot,” Mary comments casually.

You snap your head towards her, eyes wide in surprise. Mary chuckles at your reaction. “What? It's the truth.”

You shake your head, looking down at your hands. They could use some care, evidence of your passion for hobbies that leave oil under your nails. You've developed the habit of hiding them, but it's clear what you do in your free time.

Mary studies you closely, concern etched on her face. “Something wrong?”

You shake your head again, adjusting your position for comfort. “Nothing, just the usual,” you lie, hating the words as you say them.

“Jeez, I hope the trip will change you a bit,” Mary says, pecking your cheek affectionately.

You chuckle, appreciating her honesty. It's one of the things you love about her. Despite everything, she's always genuine.

You observe the boys, noting how they pay attention to specific girls—girls who aren't like you. You prefer your big T-shirts, allowing comfort while eating a hamburger, and you like your hair in a bun, keeping it out of the way while working under a car.

Your fondness for everything that reminds you of your dad is something you wouldn't change, not even for Charles's wandering eyes. You wish he could see you differently, or more accurately, see you at all.

Ironically, you talk more with his younger brother, Arthur. He's the youngest and always tried to keep up with you and Charles when you played as kids. Arthur has a soft spot for you because you remind him of home. You've known each other since childhood, and you've always looked out for him.

Unfortunately, Arthur started his first year here and is busy with his own life.

“Yeah, it could do me some good,” you murmur, zoning out as you think about the upcoming trip.

Flashback: Two weeks ago

Sweat drips into your eyes as you breathe heavily under the car, working diligently to put the parts back together.

“YN!”

You turn your head to see who's calling, though you already know. Long, slim legs in a pleated pink skirt stand at the doorway.

You push yourself out from under the car and grab a towel to wipe your face. “Yes, Mom?”

You have your mother's eyes—brown and almond-shaped, though yours are lighter, more amber than her dark chocolate. Your father's green eyes give you a unique blend. Your mother is a lady, elegant and beautiful, and you love her just as much as your father.

“I need to talk to you, hun.”

You nod and stand up, ready to listen.

Your mom is looking at you with a pitying look yet a sweet smile, which makes you feel like the sore leg of the whole family. As a child, when the family was still together, you did not experience such feelings. You concluded that this is a natural human development, causing people to feel worse mentally and often physically in today's world. You shook yourself out of your mother's piercing eyes. She misses your dad as much as you do.

The pitying look comes from her resentment of you spending so much time in the garage and not having a life like everyone else. Though your mom was never one of those women who wanted to take it far; she always stayed at home and raised you. For this, you are glad, but you wouldn't believe she could begrudge your decision. Maybe she hates when you ride your motorbike in the rain and it's stuffy every time you come back home.

You had to admit that the adrenaline was the only thing that made you feel alive. And if you didn't have your female friends in your life, you'd probably be even worse off. Sometimes you agreed when this thought made its way to the top of your consciousness, but you chose to ignore it. Every time, it made your heart sink and form a lump in your throat.

The most devastating feeling about it all was that you had a life, in a way. Hobbies, skills, and intelligence allowed you to sail through school academically, but you still felt empty. At first, you said it was puberty, but it took a long time. Even your friends had something you were missing, but you didn't know what it was. When you started to think about it longer, you didn't come to any conclusion. Maybe there's something more to it that you don't know about, but your mom's presence brought you back to the present when her soft and kind hands touched yours.

“Sweetie, your dad and I were thinking that you could visit my sister in Italy. Do you still remember her?”

You sigh, remembering her. She is everything you are not and probably never will be. Full of life, five men in each palm, and her life revolves around fun, a little work, and a lot of sex. You don't blame her, but you wonder why your parents want to send you there.

“You know, she's busy now. She started a babysitting business, and you know Eve. She's a nut, and when she sent me videos, she had about ten kids there at once, but her grace makes everything easier.”

At this point, you want to collapse, go back under the car, and not get out. Your shock is evident because your mom squeezes your hands.

“It would only take a few weeks. You were always so patient and responsible; it would help her a lot.”

Her words warm your heart slightly. At least someone appreciates these qualities. The problem is that it isn't the real reason they want to send you there. But you know your mom too well to pry the information out of her even if you'd asked.

You sigh. “You know school has started and I need to study.”

“It doesn't matter; I already arranged it at school. You will have an individual plan for the time you are not here.”

Unfortunately or not, your face has the ability to show every emotion and thought swirling inside. You want to curse yourself for it the second your mom stands up straight, ready to insist you listen. You raise your hands in anticipation that you weren't going to talk about it any further and go back under the car. After Mom sulks in the garage for a little while longer, deciding it would be better if you both cooled down, you get up again and go to the phone.

Dad picks it up on the other end. “Hello, sunshine, how are you?”

This time, you don't bother with small talk. “Why are you and Mom sending me away?”

Dad is silent for a second and then starts, “So she already told you. I told her to wait until I come for the weekend.”

“That's nice, but I want a reason.”

“Your mother thinks you lack certain skills.”

“Like what?”

Your blood is boiling, and you want to punch the wall or the ground. Right now, you don't care.

“Your mother told me how she was raised differently and she would like it for you as well. She is afraid you'll fall behind—”

You admire how your father is attentive to your mother's wishes, but right now you wish it were otherwise. Dad doesn't have a firm hand when it comes to Mom's feelings, so he allows her everything she has in her heart.

“—that we will send you there for a few months and see how it will benefit you.”

“What? Mom said a few weeks…”

“It wouldn't make much sense. It's far away.”

Tears begin to well up in your eyes and you feel helpless, just like you experience every day at school, but this time much more intense. The other part of you that survives inside is being ripped apart, leaving you with heavy breathing.

“Baby, wait for me to come home. You'll be fine.”

“How could I be fine when you want to send me a billion miles away?”

Dad just sighs. You can tell he’s sorry too, but he's adamant that it will benefit you.

“You'll see. You’ll be able to teach your aunt how to fix cars.”

A small smile forms on your face as you start laughing. The image of your aunt under the car is enough to break the tension. After the phone call with Dad, you head to the living room to talk to Mom, but someone knocks on the door. Mindlessly, you go to open it and there stands Charles.

Except he has Liz wrapped around his neck, hanging on him like a coat on a hanger, with lipstick smeared all over her face. No wonder she wasn't cast for the Joker adaptation. Charles stares blankly with a smudge of lipstick on his face.

After the initial shock, you ask what they would like.

Charles enlightens you about their visit: he needs to pick up some of your mom's freshly baked healthy bread for his mom, without lactose and all the other things discussed in magazines you don't read. You close the door to call your mom. Before you can do that, Liz speaks.

“Is that a boy or a girl?”

You flush like a pan on the stove, not hearing your mother's footsteps as she suddenly appears in front of you with her hands full of buns. You swallow and open the door a little more. This time, you focus your gaze on Liz, who you want to punch in the face and hope her hair turns gray when she sees herself in the mirror.

But when you look at Charles, you see that he’s amused by Liz's comment, as he has a smirk on his face. It doesn’t make you angry; it hurts you.

You wouldn’t expect that from someone like him. You spent your entire childhood together, and you hoped he would at least protect you. Somehow. But who are you to him for him to do something like that? After all, you haven't talked to each other in a long time.

And a part of you is glad to soon be away from people who box you in and don't care anymore.

Now

Back in your room, you start packing reluctantly. Mary calls and tries to cheer you up, suggesting that Italy might be an adventure you need, even if you can’t see it yet.

A few days later, you’re at the airport, saying goodbye to your mom. Her eyes are teary, and she hugs you tightly. “Remember, this is for your own good, sweetheart. Have an open mind, okay?”

You nod, though you’re not entirely convinced. The flight feels long, but you distract yourself by imagining what Italy will be like. When you arrive, your aunt Eve is there to greet you, her bright smile and effervescent personality already overwhelming.

“Welcome to Italy, darling! We’re going to have so much fun!” she exclaims, pulling you into a hug.

You manage a smile, hoping that maybe, just maybe, this trip will help you find whatever it is you’ve been missing. Eve’s place is bustling with activity—kids everywhere, laughter, and chaos. It’s a stark contrast to your quiet, introspective life.

In the following days, you settle into a routine. Helping Eve with the children keeps you busy, and you start to appreciate the small moments of joy in their innocent smiles and giggles. One evening, as you’re tucking in one of the kids, Eve joins you.

“You’re really good with them,” she says softly. “Thank you for being here. It means a lot.”

You nod, feeling a sense of warmth. It’s nice to be appreciated. “It’s different, but I’m getting used to it.”

Eve smiles. “You know, I see a lot of your mom in you. She was always so responsible and patient. But don’t forget to have fun, too. Life is too short to be serious all the time.”

Her words linger with you as you navigate the days. Slowly, you start to explore more—venturing out into the vibrant streets of Italy, tasting the food, and absorbing the culture. You even meet some locals who introduce you to new hobbies and interests.

One afternoon, while you’re out exploring, you receive a text from Mary. “Hey, guess what? Charles asked about you today. He seemed surprised you left.”

You stare at the message, a mix of emotions swirling inside you. Before you can overthink it, another message comes in. “Maybe this trip will show him what he’s missing out on.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. Italy is changing you, bit by bit. You’re finding pieces of yourself you didn’t know were missing. And maybe, just maybe, when you return, you’ll be ready to face whatever comes your way—whether it’s Charles, school, or just life in general.

With renewed determination, you continue to embrace your time in Italy, knowing that this experience is shaping you into a stronger, more confident person. And who knows? Maybe when you return home, you’ll be ready to show the world the real you.

[outsideratheart]

Under Pressure (Alexia Putellas x reader)

A/N: Chapter 5 of The Legacy Series.  I apologise in advance, it can’t all be sunshine and rainbows.

The biggest thing you feared was that you wouldn’t be able to feel at home in Barcelona but it turns out you had nothing to worry out. After the WICC cup there was two weeks of preseason training and after a day or two you had figured out how to play for the team. Sometimes you would watch from the sidelines during certain plays then go out onto the field and play them like you had been at the club your whole life. It’s safe to say you had settled in well.

When the first game of the season came, you were calm and ready to play as many minutes as Lluis would allow. Alexia had insisted that she picked you up so you two could go over any concerns you had. The woman had been your saving grace since moving to Barcelona. She could pick up when you were starting to get in your own head and managed to pull you out before you went too deep. She understood you as if she had known you your whole life when in reality it had been just over a 8 weeks since you first official meeting.

You had gotten to the ground a little bit earlier than everyone else; the team and fans included. You followed Alexia as you walked through the building but are confused when she walks straight passed the locker room.

“Let’s go the pitch” she suggests.

Now it wasn’t your first time being on this pitch as the team trained here a couple of times but today was different, today you would make your debut for Barcelona.

Alexia let you have your moment as you walked to the centre circle of the pitch. The energy was different today and it was the type you, as a football player, lived for. You take a few minutes to yourself before hearing Alexia calling your name. 

“Time to get ready” 

This time she does lead you into the changing rooms and you can see most of the team have arrived. All eyes are on you but you don’t think anything of it, that is until you see your locker. There hanging in the middle of your cubby was your shirt but what came as a shock is the number that was below your name. 14.

“Aitana” you turn you face her “I can’t accept this. I told you I wouldn’t come in here and take your number”

“You’re not taking it. I’m giving it to you. This is your number”

It wasn’t your number it was his and everyone knew that. Sure part of you wanted to wear your father’s number at this club but it’s is Aitana’s or at least it was. 

You watch the game from the subs bench until the 65th minute mark. Lluis’ right hand man tells you to get ready as you had already warmed up. As you stand on the sidelines you make the mistake of looking back at the stand behind you. Everybody had their phone out ready to document the moment you step foot on the pitch. It only added to the pressure you were already feeling.

When the final whistle is blown you have to take a moment to gather your emotions. You join the team in the lap around the field and stop near the ultras stand. The fans soon stop shouting your name when they realise what you are doing. There above them sits ‘Estadi Johan Cruyff’.

“He’s be proud of you” Lieke joins you and looks up. She sees the direction of you gaze change as you look up to the sky.

“Lieke is right. You made him proud today” Alexia joins in.

You didn’t know what to do so you patted them both on the back and carried on with your lap. The fans had showed you constant support since your arrival so you stop to greet as many as you can before leaving the pitch. 

You had survived game number 1. 

The months that followed proved to be more difficult that your first. The fans, media and the rest of the world were quick to pick up on the fact that you were yet to score. This is a stat you were well aware of and you kicked yourself every time you left the pitch without having your name on the scoresheet. You have several assists to your name but none of them seemed to matter. Your job was to score and assist. You weren’t doing what the club brought you here to do and it was eating away at you.

“Sandra” you pull the goalkeeper aside one day after training “Would you mind staying back so I can practice my shots some more. It won’t be for long, maybe half an hour” 

“Claro”

“Muchas Gracias”

Alexia noticed your absence in the locker room, of course she did. It was almost an hour later when you walked into the locker room where much to your surprise Alexia had been waiting.

“What are you still doing here? Do you have media or something?” You ask.

“I was waiting for you” She has no problem with admitting her reason.

“You want to join me in the ice baths?” You already know your answer. Alexia’s Spanish blood had a strong hatred for the cold.

In an attempt to change her mind, despite her not giving an answer, you take off your shirt and throw it at her before sending her a daring look.

“C’mon Ale, I dare you” 

You walk away knowing that Alexia won’t back down to a dare. You are in the ice bath all but 2 minutes before she joins you. Albeit she enters much slower than you which if you ask any athlete only prolongs the discomfort that comes with ice.

“Now that I have joined you in this hell, care to tell me why you stayed back an extra hour?” 

“I haven’t scored” you ego took a hit as you muttered the words.

“You scored loads today”

“Not today, in games” 

The disappointment you are feeling doesn’t come as a shock to Alexia. She first noticed it after the second game when you had 5 shots on target and none of them went it. 

“They are expecting me to score” 

“Who is?”

“The club, the fans, the team, you”

“This team is a hard one to settle in to, just ask Lieke. All you need is a little bit of time”

“I don’t have time. Everyone’s eyes are on me and each game that passes is proving that I’m not good enough to play here”

Up until this point, Alexia was stuck in her place. The more she moved the more the freezing cold water touched fresh skin but seeing you down on yourself made her forget about the ice as she walks towards you, slowly. 

“I know you’ve been feeling the pressure Y/N and I know it’s different to the kind I get. You leave for international duty tomorrow. Take this time to reset and come back with a clear head”

Although she wasn’t ready to admit, Alexia was dreading the day you leave and go to Zeist for camp. 

“I’m going to miss you Alexia” you don’t hesitate to be honest with your team mate.

“You’re going to miss the team” 

“Yes, I will but I will miss you in a different way. I spend more time with you than anyone else and you’re the one I call when I have my…” you want to say episodes but it sounds too dramatic.

Just as you had thought, being in Barcelona caused feelings you once buried deep down to come to the surface. Alexia found you one day after training when you were feeling too much and she stayed with you until you had calmed down. Since then she was the one you called. 

“You have your friends and I’m sure you’ll see your family but if you do need me then i’m only a phone call away” 

The timer you had set on your phone goes off and you and Alexia are quick to jump out of the ice bath.

“Promise?” You ask her as you get changed.

“I do and Y/N” you turn to face her “I’ll miss you too”

You were gone for ten days and you only had one episode but you called Alexia more than once. In fact you were in constant communication with her. Whoever got up first would text the other good morning and the day would go on from there. Even in different cities, Alexia played a huge part in your day.

Whilst in The Netherlands you did as she suggested, you used the time to clear your head and it worked. You played 90 minutes in both friendlies, one against Sweden, the only against Italy and you managed to score three goals in total. You hadn’t lost your touch but you did learn that the pressure in Barcelona had taken the fun out of the game or at least that is the reason you came up with. It wasn’t until the post match press conference that you realised it could be something bigger and much worse.

“Y/N you have played outstanding in these past two games yet your performances in Barcelona seem to lack the flair that we are used to seeing you play with. You are 9 games into the season and you still haven’t scored. We are so used to seeing you on the scoresheet and this stretch is the longest in your career without hitting the back of the net”

“Is there a question in there or are you simply reminding me of my failures” your tone is emotionless but that is far from how you are feeling.

“I didn’t mean to step out of line. It’s just you come here and put on a world class performance but fail to do so there. I think the question everybody want to know is why. What is the difference between here and there?”

The journalist’s words were running on a loop ‘what is the difference between here and there’. 

You hadn’t asked yourself this question but the answer wasn’t hard to come up with. You always put your career first and your personal life second. You wouldn’t answer the journalist’s question as it was clearly rhetorical but you knew the answer. The difference was Alexia.

Sure she had been a positive impact on your mental health but should you have been training more instead of exploring the city with her? Should you have been getting more sleep instead of staying up to talk to her? Should you be more focused at training instead of stealing glances at her whenever you could? These are all questions that you needed to know the answer to for the sake of your career.

On the flight back to Barcelona you make the foolish mistake of searching your name on twitter. The fans had started to come up with theories as to why you weren’t playing like you normal do in Barcelona. One article popped up and it mentioned both your name and Alexia’s. She has taken part in two press conference whilst on international duty with Spain and your name had being brought up multiple times despite it not being relevant at the time. Maybe you had become a distraction for Alexia too. Sure she was scoring but it wasn’t as much as last year.

When you landed you saw that Alexia had texted you and asked you to come round to her apartment once you had unpacked the little suitcase you took home with you. Now was the time and as you drove over to her place you started to feel guilty about the decision you had to make.

“Y/N” The brunette pulls you in for a hug, once which you wished would never end. 

“Hi Ale. Did you enjoy camp?” You pull away before her warmth makes you change your mind.

“We did ok, a win and draw wasn’t what we wanted but we move on. Did you? I watched your games you played amazing” Alexia walk through her apartment towards her kitchen. It was the area that hosted company the best.

“About that. There’s something I need to te—“

“So I was thinking” Alexia says and you know that she put not have heard you “There’s a new seafood restaurant that’s just opened by the marina. I know we have been spending a lot of time together as friends but I was hoping to take you here as something more. I want to take you on a date”

“Alexia I need some space” 

Those four words had hurt her, the look on her face proved that.

“Did I do something wrong?” She asked.

“No. It’s me and what I am facing. You know about the pressure but the light that has been shone on me needs to stay on me. I won’t bring you into the media scuritiny that I am facing. Everyone is questioning my ability on the pitch and I need to prove them wrong. I need to prove to the club that signing me wasn’t a mistake. I have loved spending time with you Alexia but I need to focus on my performance. I cannot be a failure” 

“I can help you” Alexia tries to bargain but you have already made up your mind.

“Ale, I need to do this alone” you take a couple of steps closer to her but she holds out her hand to stop you. You deserve it but it didn’t mean you had to like it “het spijt me”

Training doesn’t start for another three days due to the club wanting their players to recover from international duty. During this time you workout out 3 times a day; a run as the sun rises, a pitch session in the morning and a weights session in the late afternoon. You kept you body busy but Alexia still remained at the forefront of your mind. You began to think that you made a mistake in asking for space. 

The first day back at Johan Camper is weird. For what could only be the 4th or 5th time since the season started, you had driven yourself to training. Upon arriving there were two people you didn’t want to see each for two different reasons. One of them just so happened to arrive at the same time as you.

“What you’re not riding with Alexia anymore?” Lieke questions as the two of you walk into the facility.

“I’m going to be driving myself for a while” you didn’t look at her, you couldn’t.

“Y/N what have you done?” 

Lieke saw the way your behaviour change after the press conference but only now did she realise how much that man had gotten to you.

“I did what is best”

Sensing that now isn’t the time for an interrogation, Lieke drops the subject and the two of you walk in a comfortable silence.

“Ah dios miso, Alexia. I was only asking if you has anything planned this weekend. There’s no need to snap at me” Patri slightly scolds her team mate.

You know what she had planned this weekend and it included the two of you sitting at a candlelit dinner over looking the water but you had ruined that.

“I just want to focus on training. You understand that don’t you Y/N?”

She doesn’t give you a chance to answer as she walks out onto the field.

“So that’s what you did” Lieke whispers as the two of you begin lacing up your boots.

“You’ve seen what they’re saying. I won’t bring her into this media shit show, you know she hates it and I won’t be the reason for them going after her. I never wanted this for her but I was too late”

“You’re not telling me everything” Lieke knew you too well.

“I need to focus on my career. I can’t fail this club and I can’t tarnish his legacy”

“Y/N” Lieke reaches out to comfort you but you pull away.

“You think I want this? Of course I don’t” Your raised voice gains the attention of the other players in the room but you don’t care. 

During training you stick to the players that won’t ask questions which is Lieke and Aitana but Jenni does make the effort to work with you as well even though she is one of Alexia’s best friends. 

You try your best to focus on the drills that Lluis sets and it seems to work. You play very well and even the coach tells you that he is impressed, so much so that he is going to start you against Real Madrid at the weekend. This was your chance to prove the media wrong and rid the fans of any doubt. You had to score and score you did, twice in fact and you were able to assist one of Alexia’s goals. 

This is how you were suppose to play at Barcelona yet you didn’t enjoy it in the slightest. You dreamed of how you’d celebrate your first goal and you wanted to do so with Alexia but because of your stupidity and need to please people who didn’t matter, you ruined that chance. 

Your good form continued game after game and you could have sworn that things between you and Alexia were starting to return to normal. Of course this was only during training or playing because she was respecting your wishes.

“Y/N can I talk to you for a second?” Alexia asks one evening after a game review session.

“Let’s grab a coffee” 

When the two of you arrive in the canteen, Alexia goes to the table and you get the coffees. This is how is was before and you loved that it was happening again.

“How long will you need this space? I talked to Lieke and she helped me understand your reasoning, I wished you would have told me but I know now. It wasn’t in my head, I know we had a connection and I need to know if there’s a chance of rebuilding that or if I need to move on”

“Alexia I chose my career over you”

“No you didn’t and we both know it. You needed to beat the pressure and you have. You have been amazing these past couple of months but I have hated not having you around, not even as a friend”

“Alexia we haven’t been just friends for a while and you know it”

“I do. It’s why I wanted to take you on a date, I still do by the way”

“I hurt you and I want to re earn your trust. How about we start with coffee on Sunday after the game”

“It’s a date” the smirk on her face was contagious.

“Alexia” you could tell she playing but you weren’t.

“What” she says innocently “it’s a date between friends”

[rosemarysdragon]

girls when they’ve watched the world from the sidelines had nothing to prove till you came into my life gave me something to lose now i know what it feels like to wanna go outside like the shape of my outline

[ladydigianna]

on the ground || oikawa tooru x reader

|| note: this is inspired by on the ground by rose of blackpink

|| pairing: oikawa tooru x fem!reader

|| angst to fluff || from the author: my first fic after rebranding !! i hope you guys like this !! requests are open but please read my rules first !! thank you guys <3

-fic starts below the cut-

"everything i need is on the ground"

The sound of sneakers squeaking against the gym floor echoed in the spacious gym, the rhythmic thud of a volleyball bouncing reverberating through the air. Oikawa Tooru's eyes were focused, his determination palpable as he practiced yet another serve. It was his routine—volleyball was his world, and nothing else seemed to matter as much.

Except, there was something—or rather, someone—who used to matter just as much, if not more.

You.

You had been by his side since middle school, a constant presence of warmth and support, always cheering him on from the sidelines. But as the years went by and Oikawa’s obsession with perfecting his game grew, that warmth began to fade. Dates were rescheduled, conversations were cut short, and the time you once shared was slowly replaced with endless practice sessions.

It all culminated in a tearful breakup during your second year of high school. You had tried to make him understand that you didn’t want to be second to volleyball, that you missed him, the real him. But Oikawa had been too blinded by his ambitions to see the pain in your eyes.

“I can’t do this anymore, Tooru,” you had whispered, voice breaking as you walked away.

And just like that, you were gone.

The summer before his third year, Oikawa’s life came crashing down. A knee injury, the one thing every athlete feared, had struck him hard. The pain wasn’t just physical—it was a reminder of his limitations, of the fragility of the dream he had sacrificed so much for.

The clinic door swung open as he limped out, his mind a whirlpool of frustration and regret. But as he stepped onto the street, the world seemed to blur around him, his thoughts drowning in memories of you.

He remembered the time you had pulled him into a quaint café after a tough practice, insisting that he needed a break. You had laughed so freely, the sound like music to his ears. There was the time you had walked home together, your hand slipping into his as you talked about everything and nothing.

As if the universe had a cruel sense of humor, he looked up and saw you.

You stood there, just a few feet away, your eyes widening in surprise as you recognized him. For a moment, neither of you moved, the weight of the past hanging between you like a storm cloud.

“Tooru,” you finally said, your voice soft, almost hesitant.

His heart clenched at the sound of his name on your lips. He took a step forward, his gaze pleading. “(Y/N)... I’m sorry. For everything. I was a fool for letting you go.”

You swallowed, eyes darting away. “It’s not that simple, Tooru.”

“I know,” he admitted, his voice hoarse with sincerity. “But I want to make it right. I want to be the person you deserve, the person who puts you first.”

You looked at him, searching his face for something—maybe the boy you had fallen in love with all those years ago. “I need time, Tooru. I’m not sure if I can just... go back to how things were.”

He nodded, understanding the gravity of your words. “Take all the time you need. I’ll wait. I’ll prove to you that I’ve changed.”

As the third year of high school began, Oikawa kept his promise. The Aoba Johsai boys’ volleyball team noticed the difference immediately. He was still their determined captain, but something had shifted. He was softer, more thoughtful, as if he was trying to balance his two loves—volleyball and you.

He’d leave little notes in your locker, encouraging you through exams. He’d show up at your door with your favorite snacks, claiming he just happened to be in the neighborhood. The team watched, amused and supportive, as Oikawa worked to win you back.

But it was after Aoba Johsai’s crushing loss to Karasuno that everything came to a head. Oikawa was devastated, his heart breaking not just from the loss, but from the realization that he might never be enough, that all his efforts might be in vain.

Iwaizumi found you in the stands, watching as Oikawa sat slumped on the court, tears in his eyes.

“He needs you,” Iwaizumi said simply, a rare softness in his usually stern voice.

You didn’t hesitate. You made your way to the court, your heart pounding as you knelt beside Oikawa. He looked up at you, his expression crumbling at the sight of you there, by his side, where you had always been.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out, the words raw with emotion. “I tried so hard, but I still couldn’t—”

“Shh,” you whispered, pulling him into your arms. “You did your best, Tooru. That’s all that matters.”

He clung to you as if you were his lifeline, the weight of his insecurities and regrets heavy on his shoulders. And as you held him, you realized that despite everything, you still loved him. The boy who had once neglected you had grown, had changed, and you knew he deserved another chance.

“Let’s start over,” you murmured against his hair.

He pulled back slightly, hope flickering in his tear-streaked eyes. “Really?”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Really.”

The next thing you knew, his lips were on yours, soft and desperate, a kiss that spoke of promises and second chances. The world faded away, leaving just the two of you in that moment.

When you finally pulled apart, the rest of the team was watching, grins on their faces.

“About time,” Matsukawa teased, earning a smack on the back of the head from Hanamaki.

“You did good, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi said, a rare smile on his lips.

Oikawa smiled back, a genuine, heartfelt smile as he intertwined his fingers with yours. He knew that this was just the beginning—a new chapter in both his life and his relationship with you.

And this time, he was determined to get it right.

[julesinthealps]

“watching the world from the sidelines had nothing to prove ‘til you came into my life.”

[teathattast]

watching the world from the sidelines

had nothing to prove

til you came into my life

gave me something to lose

now i know what it feels like

to wanna go outside

[crazyw3irdo]

Hey, I just took your Romeo & Juliet Quiz (I got Friar Lawrence, not important) could you post the other answers from the quiz? I wanna know what they are but I don’t wanna take the quiz a bunch.

Thanks for making it! It gave me the willies in a good sorta way, you also made me think about what I liked about Romeo + Juliet (the flowery language) which was a nice reminder.

Thanks! ◡̈

of course! answers below so i’m not clogging up everyone’s dash lol

romeo: you were doomed from the start. you would have lived a life of friendship and fun, perhaps a bit of flirting if that's something that interests you. you could have published poetry. but your emotions controlled you. you were punished by the universe for a fleeting bit of passion to serve as a lesson for the cynical. hopefully you left an impression. your passion is explosive. your loyalty a boon. if only the world were fair.

juliet: you were doomed from the start. you were robbed of a chance to become anything. controlled by everyone in your life, even the ones that genuinely cared, and the one good thing you had led to your destruction because the hands of fate deemed it so. your trust in others is admirable. your optimism is enviable. your hope burns. if only you were living a different life.

mercutio: you were too loyal. not even for your own cause. you had no stake in this affair, and yet when your friend was threatened you leapt to his defense. you were doomed, but was it even for anything? does anyone mourn? no matter how much you proclaim you don't care, your caring is too great. you bare your heart to the world and it ended up getting scratched. if only the world were kind.

benvolio: it may be different from the others, but you were still doomed from the start. the horror of being the most reasonable one in the group is that means everyone else makes mistakes. everyone else must face the consequences. everyone else gets hurt while you stand there unharmed. no matter the warnings you give, they still are punished. you can't help someone who the universe decided must be destroyed. i admire that you still try. if only the game hadn't been rigged from the start.

tybalt: your passion doomed you. you thought you knew what was right. you thought you deserved it. you thought if you fought for it you could get it. communication is hard, so you tried something else, you wanted to defend, to attack, to prove something to someone. but you couldn't. you never could. you tried to meddle with fate and ended up at its mercy. if only the world listened.

friar laurence: you thought you could help. and you did, you really did. you were there for the happiness. but that also meant you were there when there was nothing left. a guiding hand is only so helpful. you plan and plan and plan and mistakes still happen. and when you don't consider those mistakes, everything can go wrong. fate will find the smallest flaw and wrench everything from you. if only you realized that sooner.

nurse: you cared for them. you loved them. you were always there. but there was nothing you could have done. it's not your story. you perpetually stand in the sidelines, watching people suffer for something you have no involvement in and yet you care. you care for them. but no matter how much you love them that doesn't change that they'll end up in a tomb someday. if only it weren't so soon.

[courtneysmovieblog]

Top 10 movies I love that everyone tells me I should hate

I know we're all entitled to our own opinions. But it doesn't feel like that these days, especially on this hell site and social media in general. The loud majority of critics and fandoms seem entitled to dictate what movies and shows are good or bad. They spend endless posts on telling us exactly why these movies are either the greatest thing in the world or the worst. And God help you if you disagree, because that just proves you aren't a true fan.

Does any of this sound familiar to you? It should. Especially after the the new Avatar The Last Airbender series...

To give you a clear idea of what I mean, here are 10 movies I like that have gotten (unfairly or not) trashed:

1. Every Ghostbusters movie since the original: Seriously. Fine, nothing is as good as the original, but Ghostbusters II wasn't that bad a sequel and the latest sequels are fun, even if they coast on nostalgia. And don't even get me started on what you monsters put everyone that dared to like the 2016 movie through...

2. Star Wars: The Last Jedi: This movie was great, it's the Star Wars fandom that is the worst.

3. The Marvels: One of the best MCU movies in a long time. Cute and charming and with a strong female cast...and you guys let it bomb at the box office for reasons I'm too tired to even talk about. Enjoy getting crappy Captain Carter getting the lion's share of female MCU roles while more deserving heroines like Carol, Monica, and Kamala get sidelined, you jerks!

4. Red Notice: Fine, it was a dumb action movie. But it was MY kind of dumb action movie that I'd happily watch again. And I still want that sequel!

5. Thor: Love and Thunder: I get that people don't like the flanderized Thor, and even I'll admit that there were parts that could've been better. Yet contrary to popular opinion, this was far from the worst MCU movie we've had. A movie can be fun and flawed.

6. Thor: The Dark World: For all the complaining about goofy Thor, you don't seem to like the gritty, serious Thor movies either.

7. The live action Beauty and the Beast: It doesn't matter if the live-action Disney are good or bad. Liking both the originals and remakes doesn't make you any less of a fan!

8. The live-action Aladdin: Ditto.

9. Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny: I realize this stance might be hypocritical, since I don't want to dictate what movies should/shouldn't like, but come on, it was WAY better than Crystal Skull!

10. Damsel: The reviews for this movie weren't great, and I don't care. I don't make high standards for Netflix movies. A fun feminist fractured fairy is always welcome for me.

Your turn. What "unpopular" movies do you love?