regret ♡ @favourite-regret - Tumblr Blog

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♡ welcome to the shit show ♡

you can call me regret. 26. i write things, sometimes. professional fangirl.

hp aus. stranger things. f1. the pitt.

18+, mdni! dni if you are racist, transphobic, homophobic, or a zionist.

love, always, regret xx

(she/her)

go read my fanfics. ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/favouriteregret

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

#fanfic authors #sleep token #fire signs #writers on tumblr

one sec gap | f1 smau

part one | part two | part three | part four (coming soon)

oscar piastri x singer!f!reader, ex!max verstappen x singer!f!reader

♡♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

#f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri smau #oscar piastri social media au #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #op81 x reader #op81 x you #song fic

one second gap | f1 smau

part one | part two | part three

oscar piastri x singer!f!reader, ex!max verstappen x singer!f!reader

♡♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

#f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri smau #oscar piastri social media au #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #op81 x reader #op81 x you #op81 smau #song fic

one second gap | f1 smau

part one | part two | part three

oscar piastri x singer!f!reader, ex!max verstappen x singer!f!reader

♡♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

#f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri smau #oscar piastri social media au #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #song fic #op81 x reader #op81 x you #op81 smau

saradika-graphics

— minimalist dividers (yellow/orange/red| request)

[Free] Masterlist Headers & Dividers!

Please consider liking or reblogging if you use 💕

diviniyae

star dividers

credit not needed. recoloring welcomed. feel free to edit as you need!

ohmyitsfaith

I think we're alone now – Chapter 1: Crash and Burn

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Reader x Lando Norris, Landoscar x Reader, Kimi Antonelli & mentor!Reader

Summary: The accident and what came after. Or the journey to the 2025 season.

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: talks about bad crash, reader is depressed (or somewhere around there), emotions!!

Song of the chapter: paradise fears – now or never. Listen to i think we're alone now

A/n: This story has me in a chokehold. Like... you guys don't get it yet, but this story will be such an emotional one (with plenty feel good moments, don't you worry). I already love the bonds here, they're so special to me. Also, please let me know if you guys want any other ships to appear in this story! Would be happy to include (almost) anything!💜

da-pitt

LIVE ABBOT AND ROBBY REACTION:

puppydogwhitaker

a seriously underrated rated part of the pitt is just how much trinity and jack admire each other

favourite-regret

give me trin on night shift. imagine adding her to the chaos of jack and shen and ellis. i need it.

do-you-feef-at-home

twenty one pilots feels like coming home to a room where the light was left on for you.

even if you’re late. even if you’re tired.

cadillacjohnf1

unfortunately i do kinda love whatever genre of image this is

zivistardust

I want to be Emery Walsh and Brendon Park’s Peds nurse Girlfriend

Brendon sees you on his way into the amputation and stops, looping back to stop dead infront of you. His expression is unpleased.

Like his day wasn’t shitty enough. No scheduled surgeries today- it’s a fucking Holliday for Christ sake. Just ER patients.

“What are you doing here?”

The shark can be like a neurotic herding dog. Didn’t like things or people out of where they belonged. Especially you and Emery.

You shrink. “Westbridge transfers, computer shut down, they floated me down to the Pitt.”

“The shit” he mumbles under his breath. He’s pissed. Fuming. Tightly coiled. “Couldn’t send some fucking new grads or something?”

No. They needed good nurses. He knows that. But he’s steaming anyway.

You don’t have to say it. He does know. “The amputation?” You assume. He nods. He needs to wrap this up quick. As much as he wants to talk about this.

“Dennis is in there, please be nice” you beg. He doesn’t dignify that with a response. “It’s not my fault your roommate’s are morons, Y/N”

So yeah he’s already pissed when he goes into trauma 1. And extra sassy to Dennis.

Robby shoots him a knowing glance. Chuckles and rolls his eyes. “That’s two for two on your roomates bedfellows today Whitaker.” He sighs. “I know.”

On his way to his OR he passes Emery. Who’s not supposed to be on today, but got called in because of everything. She said she didn’t care. What was she gonna do, the two of you were working anyway, but she’s here now. He knew she was coming in, he saw the department chief make the call himself.

He nods at her as he passes her.

“Hey. Your girlfriends in the Pitt, wanna sort that shit out?” He says, like a mom whose pissed at their kid and decides they’re the fathers problem. “As a patient?” Emery asks in concern. “No. Got fuckin’ floated. Handle it.”

He’s in his OR before she can respond. Which is fine. They both speak that intense surgeon language you can’t handle.

And then a second later Garcia is brushing by. “Tell your little girlfriend to get a fucking grip”. She doesn’t elaborate. She’ll later find out that you involved yourself in her telling at some med student- oh, Shamsi’s kid- and blew up. She’ll handle that, too.

She “handles it” all later when she comes down some hour or so later for a car crash victim. You’re in the trauma room- last place a chick in pigtails and Eeyore scrubs- because right, holiday’s mean free scrubs in cotton candy peds land- should be.

God she hates Robby bossing you around. He always rubs her the wrong way. Al Hashimi seems… fine she guesses. “What happened with you an Yo?” She asks as you hand her a scalpel. You are a decent surgical nurse, she can’t deny it. Maybe just to her. Maybe you just read her mind. Brendan would probably cum all over himself at the thought, at you being the perfect OR nurse who can read his mind and have everything ready exactly when he needs it. Once he gets through the rage of you doing anything moderately uncomfortable that is. “She was out of line with Vicky.” You say, like you’re not backing down.

God, she hates when you’re stubborn. One of you has to give a little in this relationship, and it’s not the Aries, and it’s not the Scorpio out of the three of you. Come on, butterfly. Ease up so we don’t all kill eachother.

She sees you tongue your cheek. The unsaid complaint about how she treats your other roomate in your eyes as your head cock towards Trinity, who’s also there.

She can’t argue. But the relationship puts her in a weird place. Her girlfriends friend, her colleague. So she says nothing. Clearly there’s a problem there too then. “Victorias a big girl she can stand up for herself.”

“She’s a baby. She can’t.”

“Yeah, well babies are your specialty aren’t they. So why the fuck are you here? Don’t you guys have the safe haven kid to handle? There’s gotta be other peds cases.”

“Who told you- Jessie has her.”

“Dr Walsh let’s focus on the patient”

Maybe she doesn’t like Al Hashimi. Just like the rest of them down here huh.

“Santos-“ “on it”. Impressively she is.

“He’s pissed” Emery says as you put your hands right where she needs em. Damn it. You’re good. You shouldn’t be good.

“Who?” Dr Al Hashimi asks. God forbid she minded her business. “Park the Shark” Trinity answers. “Dr Park” you clarify. “Who’s Dr Park?” “Ortho surgeon.” Trinity fills in. “Is that who is take care of our amputee?” Dr Al Hashimi asks to Trinity to nods.

“I know” you sigh. “But it’s not my fault.”

Emery and Trinity both laugh. “I doubt he cares” is Trinitys laugh. “he doesn’t” Emery agrees.

Al Hashimi is fucking lost.

“You got called in?” You ask. Obviously. She pushes down the mean tease. “Yeah.” “Sorry”. Emery shrugs. “Who cares. I was bored, you two were working anyway.”

“Fucks going on with you and Yolanda?”. She asks Trinity. Problem 2. Trinity sets her jaw. “Hell if I know.” “Got it.”

“And Langdons back” you add softly. “Oh. Shit. You uh- okay?”. Emery is so not built for feelings. Santos nods too fast. She’s not okay. You’ll handle her later, right? You’re a good feelings friend.

“Can you… try to calm him down? I can handle this” you plead. “Ha! You think anyone can calm him down. That’s normally your job. And you’re the one who pissed him off, so we’re all fucked now.”

A beat. The patients stable.

“He’s worried. And I’m worried too. And he doesn’t like being worried so he’s mad.” Emery tries to say gently. “He doesn’t have to worry! I can handle it. Peds isn’t all sunshine and rainbows either, you know that.”

She does. Shes seen and heard. Shes wished you chose… dermatology or something. But it’s not this. “He’s worried and I don’t blame him. I don’t like this either. Adult patients are dicks. They’re not crying babies or screaming toddlers. Do you think he would be able to control himself if some drunk guy with a face lac put his hands on you?”.

You know the answer. You swallow. He can’t. He’s protective and firey and intense. It’s part of why you love him.

“He’s having a day today. I saw his board when I came in. It’s not just you. But he’s pissy.”

You soften. “Is he okay?” “Corse he’s okay. He’s Bren. He’s always okay. He’s just got a lot on his plate and now he’s gonna be worrying about you too.”

Santos completes her final stitch. “Okay. Let’s get this guy to post op. Y/N we don’t need you stay down here, and keep your head about you, got it?”

Later as she’s heading to a consult she overhears Al Hashimi asking Trinity questions. “Oh, Y/N, me and Dennis are roommates.” She explains. “And how does Dr… Walsh and Dr Park know your roomate?”. She stalls. “You might wanna ask Y/N.” “Well I’m asking you.” “Uh. Romantic relationship.” “With which one?” “Both.”. A few seconds pass. Then she hears “oh!… Dr Walsh seemed concerned about you and Dr Langdon, is there anything I should know there?”

The rest of the shift you can feel the older woman’s curious eyes on you, but she never voices it. Professional as ever.

The rest of your shift Brendan is like a fucking shark. He keeps coming down between cases. Circling around you for signs of life. Check ins.A bottle of water with your name written on it in haphazard sharpie. A granola bar a med student gives you in shaking hands and says a surgeon said to make sure you get or else. You feel Emerys ever present eyes too. She has more reasons to be down here. Feel her hands on your back, her eyes on yours.

“Look we appreciate the help but you gotta get your dogs in check.” Robby pleads eventually. “I don’t control them, Dr Robby. You know that.” You explained. Robby, unlike Dr Al Hashimi, knew through the grape vine (comments Garcia, Santos, Whitaker, and even Emery herself made) of the situation. “Maybe you need a shorter leash.” “An Akita on a 2 inch leash is still an Akita” you attempt to reason. “Your Akitas are great fucking surgeons but pains in my ass on their best behavior.” Robby hissed walking away.

“He’s… extra stretched thin today. It’s not your fault.” Dr Al Hashimi offered kindly. Nice enough. If she gives Trinity a fucking break with charting maybe you’ll even like her.

The shift ends in chaos. Not an extension, but chaos never the less. A clean handoff for you three, at-least. Whatever the fuck is going on with Robby and a 72 isn’t your problem, as you know Brendan will say coldly. You’d been worried how telling the both that you were going home to your place tonight would fare, but now they Dennis canceled his plans on account of… whatever that Pitt shit show is, you weren’t afraid to leave Trinity alone anymore.

And so you felt Brendon squeeze you over the back of your neck. “Ready to go?”. You look up at the towering man. “Em left, wanted to start dinner. You move your stuff here or do you have to go back to peds?” “Peds.” You answer. He nods. “Tell them-?” You nod. “K. Let’s go. You’ve got a lot of explaining to do when we get home”. Man, you know. You really know. You sign letting him navigate you around the hospital, content to turn your brain off if Emery or Brendon is behind the wheel.

He steers you expertly out of the way of a springing 6 year old. “Hey, easy buddy, easy. Where’s your mom?”. Brendon’s bedside manner is impressively even with kids, probably how you ended up here in the first place. The little boy goes wide eyed and pale. He points behind him to a bay. “So go back in there and be good, yeah?”.

You open our locker, quickly packing up. Your iced coffee a condensation melted puddle now. Damn. No time to drink if after you got floated. “I’ll get you a new one in the morning” Brendan grumbles, something about syrup and sugar as he throws it out behind you. He takes your bag over one shoulder along with his own. “C’mon. I think Em said steak. She got cheated out of her grill time earlier.”

favourite-regret

i fear i need them biblically.