#timt

[evermoredeluxe]

stick around until the end, she changes the outro melody and it’s beautiful

- Taylor performing this is me trying at The Eras Tour in Melbourne, Australia (N2) on February 17, 2024 (x)

#i saw no one talking about timt and the outro so i specially mentioned it #this is me trying #timt #eras tour melbourne 2 #surprise songs #eras tour #taylor swift #arshia talks

[taylortruther]

even if it's a stretch, i'm compelled by this thought. like, a song about love being so pure - because of your youth and innocence, but also because it's a memory of warmth and care. the face of that love doesn't even matter when the feeling that lingers, the innocence, becomes its legacy. your braids like a pattern, love you to the moon and to saturn, this love lasts so long.

and then consider how, twenty years later, as an adult, you feel like you get older but never wiser, so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere. you're so far from the child you were, and you have so little to show for it but scars and fear of ghosts. then you find that warm pure love again, in a person who makes you feel safe, like the child you used to be. just being in their arms takes you back to that time when you were fierce and unapologetic, you hadn't been hurt, you weren't caught up in your own web and afraid of making the wrong move again and again. been sleeping so long in a twenty year dark night... it's nice to have a friend.

#i had fun #idk i mean who knows if taylor intended for this to be connected #inthaf #seven #daylight #ciwyw #timt #parallels #mine

[evermorre]

I had the shiniest doors now they're rusting (it's august 1st)

#august #timt #SALT AIR AND THE RUST ON YOUR DOOOOR

[pedropascalsx]

THIS IS ME TRYING: A Dave York x F! Reader AU.

Summary: By day Dave York is seemingly your regular, run of the mill guy. A popular surgeon specialising in trauma but when the white coat comes off; so does the façade. Contracted by a local mob, Dr. York provides his services to interrogate and induce fear and pain... but when a young woman ends up in the wrong place at the wrong time and witnesses a crime that puts her life in danger; could Dr York’s conscience make a sudden reappearance? 

Pairing: Dr. Dave York x F! Reader {legal age difference early 20s + mid 40s}

Warnings: Rated E for eventual smut. These two fools are going to fall so in love they won’t know what’s hit them. Some canon violence and threats. Some Dark/Asshole/Possessive! Dave.

First chapter to be posted: Monday 29th August.

Proposed chapters: 5

A/N: This will be my first ever attempt at an AU. I am super excited to share it with you and I hope that I do it justice.

Mood-board credit: My dear + sweet @queenofthefaceless! Thank you so much for making this gorgeous mood-board and being so sweet and supportive of my idea for this upcoming fic. I adore you.

1: Chapter One.

2: Chapter Two.

#my fanfic #dave york #dave york smut #upcoming fic #TIMT #the equalizer #the equalizer 2 #equalizer 2 #dave york fanfiction #dave york au

[lazykebabvagina]

Me: I wonder if people know what my favourite album and book are....

My literal url:

#tori #tori spring #victoria spring #solitaire #michael holden #folklore #taylorswift #swiftie #timt #folkwhore

[longlivethelastkiss]

i just wanted you to know

that

this is me trying.

at least im trying.

#timt #this is me trying #i <3 folklore #atleast im trying. #this is me trying makes me sob. #too relatable #they told me all my cages were mental #so i got wasted like all my potential

[new-york-no-shoes]

@taylorswift just incase you’re wondering you’re redoing this one in Miami ok bestie? 😘

#taylor swift #the eras tour #eras tour #TIMT #this is me trying

[mickyratsstuff]

This song has no right to be this relatable,

LIKE IM NOT EVEN A FOLKLORE GIRLIE BUT SOMEHOW IM A MIRRORBALL AND TIMT GIRLIE???? MAKE THAT MAKE SENSE???

#taylor swift #taylornation #mirrorball #timt #this is me trying #folklore #Spotify

[corneliaavenue]

we have "Clean Speech" and "Delicate Speech" but just imagine a "This is Me Trying Speech"

#i think i would sob through the entire thing #taylor swift #timt

[evermoredeluxe]

Taylor performing this is me trying on piano at The Eras Tour in Melbourne, Australia (N2) on February 17, 2024 (x)

#timt #this is me trying #eras tour melbourne 2 #surprise song #eras tour #taylor swift #arshia talks

[taylortruther]

i have this thing where i get older but just never wiser / midnights become my afternoons 🤝 i was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere / fell behind on my classmates and i ended up here

i always liked this line in anti-hero because of its many meanings. and one that i don't see discussed much is this parallel to timt: this idea that she emotionally/mentally fell behind others around her. perhaps it was emotional maturity, the way she's said she struggles to get over things, how she pushed herself to succeed professionally but couldn't do the same for her mental health. but her classmates learned lessons or grew "faster" than her. as a result, she ends up far behind (a whole twelve hours behind, if we continue the clock metaphor.)

#like i think this is something we intrinsically understand about this line #but idk i've been wanting to write it down for a while #anti-hero #timt #parallels #mine

[elise-nic]

The theoretical potential of a Quinlan Vos trained canon version of Corran Horn is sending me

#not sure where it's sending me but it is #star wars #timt #quinlan vos #corran horn #obi wan spoilers #quinlan vos star wars #corran horn star wars

[deathbyathousandcuts]

could’ve followed my fears all the way down.

#taylor swift #2023 #timt

[pedropascalsx]

This Is Me Trying - Chapter 2.

Summary: By day Dave York is seemingly your regular, run of the mill guy. A popular surgeon specialising in trauma but when the white coat comes off; so does the façade. Contracted by a local mob, Dr. York provides his services to interrogate and induce fear and pain… but when a young woman ends up in the wrong place at the wrong time and witnesses a crime that puts her life in danger; could Dr York’s conscience make a sudden reappearance?

Pairing: Dr. Dave York x F! Reader {legal age difference early 20s + mid 40s}

Warnings: References to medicine. Death. Violence. Mentions of medical procedures used as violence. Swearing. 

Rating: E *for eventual smut* - no smut yet. This chapter is M. We’re learning about how Dave got caught up in all of this in this chapter.

Word Count: 2047

Chapters: 2 of 5.

She repeated the question again. Her voice somehow sounded a little more stable and she mustered up enough courage for her to look him in his face, “Who are you?“

Who is he? A question he’d been asking himself for years. He could give you the short answer. Dave York. David to his mom. Doctor. Eldest child of three and 6 time consecutive spelling bee champion.

The kind of answer that would usually make the other person chuckle, or roll their eyes, but not now.

“Who. Are. You?” She asked again, a pause between every word, punching each one out with an air of desperation drenching them all, “What are you going to do to me?”

He says nothing, he simply shrugs before walking towards the dripping faucet. He looks down at the hands he’s about to wash; he’s always liked his hands, they’re big, steady and capable of the most incredible things.

*

Growing up he’d always been complimented because of them, The steadiness he was able to exhibit, small things like the ability to thread a needle for his mother on the first attempt and the more impressive like being able to paint the most intricate painting, every stroke of the brush: perfectly precise and able to tell a story of its own.

It was in the stars for this man to become a surgeon, what else can someone with that skill become? He aced his way through high school, an honour student and had his pick of prestigious colleges to attend. He studied at Yale School of Medicine. Graduated first in his class and had internship offers from all across the country.

He chose to go home.

He breezed through his year as an internship and fell in love with trauma during that time. It was only fitting that a few years later and once he became a fully credited attending that he became head of the department. He seemingly had everything he wanted, but he was nursing a secret that led him to where he was this very evening.

He fucked up. It was in his first year of residency and he had a rare night off, like all of them it was spent in a sleazy bar, drinking top shelf whiskey and prowling for a pretty woman to fuck and forget about.

But the woman he set eyes on for that particular night, already had eyes on him, and he’d fallen into her trap within minutes of her entering the bar.

Due to his talents for stitching up those they’d put in his care, he had gotten himself on the radar of a few men he’d rather not been known to… And she was on a mission that would make sure the hotshot young doctor would stop messing up their shit.

His eyes lit up as she’d silently made herself comfortable in front of him, taking a large sip of the martini before roping him in. She knew what she was doing and she did it well, she had him believing she was eating out of the palm of his hands and it took less than half an hour to get him into a cab back to ‘her place’.

Every time he thinks back to that night, he can feel each blow to his chest, each punch and slap across his face and he can still feel the cold steel of the hammer gently rubbing across his hands.

The threats still replay in ears over and over again, every venom filled promise that he’d never be able to use his hands again if he didn’t agree to work for them.

The second the hammer was lifted from his skin and was preparing to smash back down onto it, he was screaming yes and agreeing to do whatever they expected of him. He never expected that less than twenty-four hours later he’d be standing in his ER watching a 26 year old die at the end of his very capable fingertips.

Years had passed, dozens of men and women that had crossed the wrong people or simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time had been left to die in the place where life was silently promised.

A place where thousands are born, thousands are gifted miracles and where hope lies around every corner. It had become a place where Dave had become forced to play a higher power, and the place where dread had started to seep into every aspect of his life.

Could he count how many he’d been instructed to let die? No. And was he silly enough to believe that they’d never make it more than it already was? Yes.

Ironically, he was washing his hands when his phone buzzed in his pocket. Coordinates to the very building he was standing in, instructions to bring his doctor's bag and whatever supplies for cleaning up he could get his hands on… He figured one of the men had gotten injured and couldn’t just walk into the ER and provide an explanation without arousing suspicion but he couldn’t have been more wrong.

The man was in his late fifties, addicted to multiple substances and owing more money than anyone should have even considered lending him and they’d decided that enough was enough. No more excuses. Dave was informed that the man had been running his mouth, making comments about how he was invincible, and how he’d stolen from the mob and there was nothing they would or could do about it.

That night Dave was instructed to perform a simple medical procedure on him, a procedure that he could have done with his eyes closed; a procedure that thousands across the world would do doubt be having and when he was instructed to do it without anaesthesia, a gun was pointed at the back of his head as a reminder that he couldn’t say no. So he did it. He performed an appendectomy on a patient, being held down by four grown men, whilst laying down on a rusty gurney and Dave silently prayed for him to succumb to the pain and pass out.

He can’t tell you how long it took for him to die, but he can tell you that he stood glued to the spot, unable to move as he watched it happen.

Dave tells himself now that he’s numb to it, that the amount of lives he says outnumbers the others by thousands and thousands and because of that; he deserves to sleep at night. The shot of whiskey and the sleeping tablets that bring him sleep are just a consequence of his demanding career.

*

He’s brought out of his daydream by your whimper and the sound of the restraints around your wrists hitting against the metal gurney.

He turns the faucet on and thoroughly washes his hands before making sure to twist the knob tightly enough to stop the dripping.

That was a mistake.

The noise hits him like a truck. Had it been there that entire time? Had the slight drip-drop managed to drown out that dreaded tick-tock.

“Who are you?” She yells again, the shakiness of her breath making his own breathing hitch, “What the fuck are you going to do to me?”

Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

A flip switches, he throws down the towel he was dying his hands with and marches towards the end of the gurney, fury blurring his vision as he gets really to just complete the job and move on with his miserable life, but then she fucking looks at him with those big desperate eye and he feels like the room has collapsed around him. The fury fades and is replaced by guilt and a burning to take her a million miles from here and keep her safe.

“What the fuck?” He mumbles out loud as he runs his hands through his hair, “Who am I?” he yells, “Who the fuck are you?”

Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

He feels the instant regret almost immediately, and he hates it - it seemingly intensifies the sound of that godforsaken clock ringing in his ears. He looks at your face and he hates the way your already petrified face is somehow showcasing more fear after his outburst, and he hates that he can feel it bubbling in his own chest.

“Fuck” he spits out, “I-I… You. You saw something you shouldn’t have seen and now, now I have to fix that.”

*

Your head is spinning and your wrists are aching and your shoulders are stiff from the restraints. You’re hanging off his last words, unable to speak… ‘Fix it how?’ You want to scream but you’re terrified of the answer, you know the answer, it’s glaringly obvious that you’re not making it out here alive and you’re unsure if you want him to drag it out so you can saviour the feeling or air filling your lungs or let it just be over so you don’t have to pretend that the air doesn’t feel like  a poison that’s slowly infiltrating your bloodstream.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs “I’m sorry this is happening to you. I read the file, I know you don’t deserve any of this. Fuck. No one could ever deserve this but-”

“Then let me go,” you whisper, interrupting his impassioned speech and receiving a raised eyebrow in response, “Let me leave. I don’t know who you are.”

“But they do,” he responds after a few moments of painful silence, “If there isn’t a body here for them to dispose of, they’ll come for me and then they’ll come for you.”

The only response you’re able to return comes in a series of desperate sobs and pleas that aren’t quite coherent as pain reverberates in the back of your throat.

He stays completely still, you watch as his eyes glance back and forth over and over at the single clock placed on the wall to your left. Through your blurry vision and between your tears, you try to study his face, you try to gauge when he’ll take his next step, when he’ll start making the move that’ll ultimately end your life.

It happens when you’re least expecting it, but he becomes a blur, hurtling towards the wall and reaching out and grabbing the clock off of the wall. He throws it with all of his power, his shoulders and the muscles in his back straining his shirt as he does so and you audibly gasp at the sound of the clock shattering against the ground.

And then it hits you. Silence. The drip-drop, the tick-tock and the loud harsh thrumming of your own heartbeat no longer threatening the life it belongs to. It’s just… silent.

If it wasn’t for the ache burning in all of your muscles, you’d consider that you might be dead already; but pain is a tell-tale sign of life.

Your eyes flicker over to where he’s standing, he’s moving for the first time in what feels like forever, gathering his things, picking up tools that you can’t bring yourself to look at and making his way back over to you.

His eyes burrow into yours, you want nothing more to look away and not stare into the eyes of the man that’s about to remove the life from your own, but you can’t. You can see his hands moving but you can’t see what they’re doing, you’re too busy staring into the dark drown orbs that are saying nothing but saying too much at the same time.

You think it’s about to be over, but it’s just about to begin. The sound of metal clinking against metal makes you jump. How didn’t you see him move closer? You don’t understand, but he must have, because your left wrist has been freed. And he’s moved around to the other side, that same sound of metal bashing more metal fills your ears again and suddenly your right wrist is free. What is happening?

He looks at you studying your sore, bruised wrists and sighs loudly. A sigh that screams ‘Am I going to fucking regret this?’ before he opens his mouth to speak again.

“Dave,” he says whilst rubbing the slight stubble on his chin, “Dave York. And we need to leave right now.”

#Dave York #Dave York x you #dave york x reader #dave york x f!reader #dave york x ofc #Dave york x female reader #my fanfic #david york #dave york au #The Equalizer 2 #the equalizer 2 fanfiction #my fanfiction #dave york smut #the equalizer 2 au #timt #this is me trying

[magnus-the-maqnificent]

ALCOHOLIC ALEC AU. I need details maam. Also single dad Alec au.

*chuckles nervously* ah yes. The alcoholic Alec au. I call it timt tho - cause it's based on Taylor's song this is me trying, which is enough to know just how angsty this shit is.

This au literally started out as me projecting my stressed, burnt out self on Alec and ended with this spiraling into deep deep angsty angst. 😬 it's basically about Alec at around 30, living his depressed alcoholic life as a lawyer (a career he did not choose btw), and the only people he's regularly in contact with are his parents (nope, not even Isabelle :( )

Anyway, the story basically starts when Alec gets dragged by his parents to Isabelle's engagement party (Alec doesn't even know that izzy's engaged until his parents call him tell him), and he sees several familiar faces that remind him of his, admittedly not great past with them, cause my boy's got issues (helloooo exes to lovers) annnnd shit goes down.

Long story short, Alec begins recovering from his alcoholism, and the rest of the fic is him realising just how messy his life his, and all the ways his alcoholism affected him and his future, and his healing journey basically. :')

OKAY AND... The single dad Alec au... may be inspired by whatever I know of The Mandalorian through tumblr osmosis. So basically, solo travelling warrior Alec Lightwood with his magical baby Max 🥰 this au is still in a baby stage so idk if Alec has always been a solo warrior or if he gets kicked out of his society for adopting Max, and I'm not sure about malec either, buuut im leaning towards an exes to lovers plotline lol

I think at this point its obvious what my ultimate favourite malec trope is 😅

#blues and then purple pink asks #timt

[actual-sleeping-beauty]

i was so ahead of the curve the curve became a sphere / fell behind all my classmates and i ended up here / pouring out my heart to a stranger / but i didn't pour the whiskey

i just wanted you to know / that this is me trying / i just wanted you to know / that this is me trying / at least i'm trying

#timt #having a normal time over here