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#but just talking hurts and I just hate being online all the time
ineffectualdemon · 1 day
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Hey if you can't stop being self deprecating because it hurts yourself do it because it hurts others
When you post a fic and leave a note saying "sorry it's so bad!" You have just insulted every reader who enjoyed it
When you say "god I'm so ugly" you just insulted the people who think you're pretty
When you say "I am so annoying and awful" you just insulted everyone who likes you and hangs out with you
Your self deprecation hurts everyone around you as well as you. It's telling them that you think they are wrong or stupid or have bad taste etc
And for friends who think you are prettier then insulting your appearance also says "if I'M ugly then YOU are hideous"
And I get it. It's so hard. I struggle with this daily
Do you know how many times a day I say I hate myself out loud?
This is something I am still constantly working on. I know it's a real struggle. Especially in real life where the compulsive need to degrade yourself verbally is really hard to overcome
(I try to push it into talking about how much I love my friends and family instead. That helps a little)
But when you're online you have the time to stop and delete the self deprecation before you post it. And you might even get to a point where you don't write it at all. With writing you have time to deal with that compulsion.
And you don't have to write praise for yourself either. Just practice not being mean about yourself online. Remind yourself that it hurts more than just you
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kiingbiing · 1 year
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tariah23 · 4 months
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This is such a harmful sentiment to push considering that you don’t necessarily have to be “attractive,” (beauty is subjective, yada yada) in order for men to want to harm you in the slightest… like man, what…
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#the lady talks about being followed and harassed and so on as if every woman and girl in the world regardless of their age and#‘good looks’#hasn’t experienced this and will continue to#I hate when these girls especially ones who are conveniently attractive talk about stuff like this under the guise of speaking for all#women while x-ing out most women#this easily leads into the realm of ‘you’re too ugly/fat to be assaulted ANYWAY-‘#talk that I see spread by misogynists and bird brained women like it’s such a natural thing to even say it’s actually rly scary#especially when it comes to the assault shit which is usually about power and control anyway#they don’t care what you look like#you could be covered up head to toe and someone would try to hurt you just because#I hate when women like this go online thinking that they said something open their mouths I really do#rambling#tw assault#got dudes in the comments going ‘she’s not even pretty anyway she’s like a 4 out of 10’#completely missing the message (as if they care) and see#these are the kinds of people that stuff like this attracts#stuff like this coming out of a woman’s mouth especially is so dangerous#I don’t think I’m the most good looking person in the world and I’ve been followed sm times I had to run away from a guy once and luckily#my bus was right fucking there!!!#then the guy who was harassing me years ago at a bus stop and forced me to hug him and touched my butt and no one else was around to help#me…#and he kept on trying to get me to go back to his apartment around the corner like that was so#the man who followed me into the store as I was shopping and I noticed that he kept on staring at me#then tried to holla and he looked way older than me and I think he was a pastor or something too he had a nice car and tried to get me to#come with him#sm more incidents over the years like this is crazy pls don’t say stuff like this and act like it’s normal#someone in the comments said that people like the woman in the video think that being pretty will free them from the patriarchy and like…#YEAH 😭#it’s so obvious too lmfao#these be the same women calling themselves ‘girls girls’’
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thingamagob · 5 months
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lrt ive been thinking about that sort of shit a lot lately. like i feel like the general discussion of misogyny got nuanced a bit too hard and now a bunch of people are basically softcore mra's
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femme-malewife · 1 year
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hnm...
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noxtivagus · 1 year
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good morning T_T
#🌙.vents#break in a few weeks so i'll fix my tumblr then but let me just rant again ffs#just my irls#nothing. specifically happens but as more time goes by the more it just gets so tiring#i hate people who can't properly be direct. n while we're all trying our best n improving#goddamn doesn't it hurt in the times when you're sincere but then the person you're talking to#it feels like your sincerity n gratefulness is being dismissed lmfao#ppl who are lacking in their own selves n consequently also lacks w communicating w others#in that specific way. just especially drain me#i'm tired of caring abt ppl that. yk it feels so fucking one-sided#it's never a nice feeling to be forgotten. even they don't.. it surely fucking feels like it#this goes for two people funnily enough#i see them online so much. but they can't even#spare even a minute or so#to reply? n funnily enough w another one of my friends#she said both of them r ghosters too.#sometimes. change isn't good yk? wish i could tell you that. esp if you forget n neglect the past.#i used to care so much (still do) but consistently you were so dismissive of me.#i too ofc had things to improve on. but i try to convey my desire to improve yk? to be transparent authentic n sincere.#but you forget. you forget those promises. the memories. every word.#perhaps you don't but.. it really doesn't seem they care enough to convey it#n it hurts. if only you knew how much i write. how much i remember n how much i've smiled.#n then it hurts too bcs there's just sm in me that i just.. want to release in a way? give out to the world#but there's like. not enough opportunities. irl at least. most of ^^ all that's w irl stuff#n so it feels like i'm trapped in a cage w my wings chained.#n then in general i want to do so much n i know i can but i'm afraid that.. i'll be. really forgotten yk?#wish i cld tell them so much but i'll keep this to myself for as long as it takes.#it hurts esp when yk these ppl rlly used to mean so much to me (still do) but now it's like they've forgotten everything yk? it really hurt#it's funny how similar the both of them are for me.#:c i'm a bit low on sleep but i want to do so much today. i will.
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milo-is-rambling · 1 year
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Who wants to kiss and smoke and then fight each other bloody in a parking lot and then kiss some more
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gravestrain · 3 months
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I don't know how to feel, but someday I might (qh43)
in which Quinn will do just about anything to help his sweet girl.
This is 2.6k words of Quinn angst/fluff. It involves his girlfriend dealing with hate comments online. There are some hurtful things said about weight and appearances. This is a fem reader, with mentions of wearing makeup and dresses. She/her pronouns are used. Felt a little down lately and wanted to cheer myself up with some sweet Quinn. I hope you all enjoy this <3
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There was almost nothing in the world that was easier than loving Quinn Hughes.
With his heart of gold and smile to match it, you found yourself falling in love with him almost instantly. It would have been impossible not to. To know Quinn is to love him. You doubt that there is anyone in the world who has met Quinn and has not been mesmerized by his charm and his raw kindness. Even his toughest opponents and fiercest rivals have nothing but kind things to say about your boy.
You met Quinn three years ago while you were on a girls trip at a rented lake house in Michigan. When you first saw your neighbor for the weekend, you were so caught off guard you tripped over your own feet and spilled your drink all over your feet. Quinn was quick to throw the towel he was holding out of his hands and on to your body to help you clean up the sticky mess that was now covering your body. Never mind the fact that in a house full of lazy boys, there was no other clean towels. It was just what he wanted to do.
Over stumbled apologies and blushing words, you exchanged numbers with Quinn. Neither of you were foolish enough to hide your intentions. At this point, you had both known you were only going to be in town for the weekend, but Quinn did not care, and neither did you. Your intentions were always to continue to talk to Quinn, even after the close proximity was no longer.
And you did. It was months of Facetimes and silly texts, until finally Quinn played a game near your town. Quinn insisted you came, and when you saw him again in the tunnels after the game, you knew you would never be able to move on, and Quinn felt the same way.
The start of the new season found you moving to Vancouver with Quinn. You were able to find a job similar to yours that was only 20 minutes away from Quinn's house. The choice seemed like a no brainer. And if you thought dating Quinn was a gift, nothing could compare to living with him. He was silly and considerate, adventurous and attentive. You found yourself falling in love with him more and more each day.
You were no stranger to Quinn's spotlight. It became more and more apparent to you when you moved to Vancouver. Almost every block had a Canucks fan, Canucks memorabilia, often sporting your boyfriend's face, loud and proud.
You were no stranger to the comments that other girls would make in the stands of Canucks games, or even at the bar while you were tucked right in to Quinn's side. They found Quinn to be as beautiful and as breathtaking as you did, and they paid no mind to the fact that you were hooked on his arm, or wearing his last name across your back, or even sitting with his family. Their intentions were to be with Quinn. They did not find you as a threat. But many made it their intentions to let you know that they were a threat.
You were public on social media, but with hardly any mention of your faceless boyfriend being Quinn Hughes. However, being the captain's girlfriend had automatically put you in the public eye, despite the fact that both you and Quinn tried your hardest to keep it on the down low publicly. It was challenging for Quinn to be in the spotlight at times, even after so long of being in it, and he wanted to make sure he tried his hardest to ensure that that spotlight never graced your wings. There was so much trouble that came with it, trouble that Quinn never wanted to expose you to. Nevertheless, some fans persisted.
"This is what you wear to stand next to the captain of the Vancouver Canucks? Maybe try a little harder next time," a comment had graced your post of your outfit from a Canucks gala. Despite your insistence that Quinn didn't pay for much, it hardly ever worked. Quinn had bought you the most beautiful dress, with a price tag you could not fathom. His insistence was that he saw you eyeing it on social media from a post of a fashion show, and he wanted you to have it.
The dress instantly made you feel beautiful, and Quinn's gaze and charming words made you feel beautiful tenfold. It was almost devastating how that feeling had disappeared so fast, just by the words and actions of a few cruel individuals who had made it their life's mission to tear you down.
Just one comment wouldn't hurt so bad. Unfortunately, there was tens of comments that point out a few flyaways, the creasing of your concealer, the cellulite on your arms, the rolls of your hips. You had tried your hardest not to let them bother you. But it bubbled up inside like a bad stew. When you find the one that hurt the worst, it caused you to sink to a feeling worse than you had ever felt. The comment read: "I don't understand why Quinn would want to be with a fat girl who does not know how to present herself in public. She has no redeeming features."
You tried your hardest to hide the comments from Quinn. You knew he rarely checked social media, so you made a promise to never let him know what they said and how they bothered you. You tried to insist to yourself that it was minuscule, it shouldn't matter. But the state Quinn found you in when he returned from his road trip was nothing but minuscule. It was no position he had ever found you in.
When Quinn FaceTimed you two nights ago after their game in Anaheim, you were wearing one of his Canucks blue t shirts, curled up in bed with your dog. When he walked through your bedroom doors, he found you in the same place, wearing the same t shirt, sporting the same hairstyle. His heart sunk to his toes. Were you hurt? How could he help you? What caused you to get into this state?
When he found you, your eyes were closed, but he knew you weren't sleeping. You had your head intentionally turned towards the wall, so as to not face Quinn. But even without seeing your face, he knew something was seriously wrong. And at that point, all he wanted was to see your beautiful face, to give him a little reassurance as to how you were feeling.
Quinn rounded the corner of the bed, kneeling down on the floor next to your head. "Hi sweetness," he muttered, running his fingers down the slope of your face. "Can I see your eyes, please?" He asked, causing you to shake your head lightly. He hummed at your answer, not wanting to push, but also knowing he had to get to the bottom of this.
"I brought you some takeout, your favorite. I know you have that project due in a few days and I figured you would be hungry." He had left the food on the table downstairs when he walked in to a silent house. No singing to music, no clambering of kitchen cabinets, no playing with the dog, nothing. The silence was eerie to him.
"I'm not," you muttered out in your smallest voice, cracking from lack of use, and even lack of water in your throat. You had a few sips over the last two days, but once it ran out, you couldn't get yourself to fill it. One of the only things you could manage to do the past two days was let the dog out. No matter how bad you were suffering, your sweet dog did not deserve to be punished for that. You let him out in the backyard only, not wanting anyone to see you walking on the sidewalk and be alerted by your state. There were a few other WAGs who lived in yours and Quinn's neighborhood, and at any sight of your despair, you know Quinn would have been alerted immediately.
"I'd like it if you could eat a little bit, though. I'm sure you're hungry, and your voice sounds dry. Can I fill your cup for you?" He posed it as a question, but he intended to fill it regardless of your answer. You shrugged, and Quinn took that as a win. He woke up your dog, assuming he had to go out. He journeyed downstairs and filled your cup. He also just let the dog out in the back, but promised a long walk in the morning. He only hoped you would come. It was something the two of you loved to do, walking the dog together after he came back from road trips.
As Quinn stood outside, the cold air biting at his shoulders, he tried to rack his brain of what could have possibly happened while he was gone. Did he forget something important? Did you miss a deadline? Did something happen at home? Nothing seemed to make sense, even when he tried to make sense of them.
Your dog was nothing if not loyal, so as soon as Quinn opened the door to let him back in, he bolted up the stairs to the bedroom, nosing his way through the door and back on to the bed with you. You put your hands in his fur, hoping to find some comfort in him. Silent tears streamed down your face. You saw the look on Quinn's face when he walked in to you. In a way, you were letting the trolls win even more. Quinn didn't deserve to come home to someone who couldn't get out of bed. At least, that's what the voices in your head were telling you.
Quinn walked quickly back up the stairs, but with less energy than your dog. He set your cup down on the bedside table, sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand rubbing your calf over the blankets. He knew at some point you would tell him what's wrong. He didn't want to force it out of you, but at the same time, Quinn had been alerted to the fact that you had not left the bed in days. He was concerned.
Your sniffle gave you away, not pretending to hide. Quinn knew you were struggling, and there was no point in trying to hide your mood. "Why are you crying, lovely? I'd really like to help you, but I'm not sure how," he muttered, leaning in to softly wipe your tears away. "It's nothing, I should be able to handle it by now." you muttered, hinting him to what was wrong without giving away any details.
"Handle what, babe? The roadtrips? I know they're hard. They're hard for me, too. I promise you're not alone in that." Your heart softened at his kind voice, at his genuine concern. Of course the roadtrips were hard, and in a way it helped to know that they were hard for him too, but you knew that wasn't what was bothering you.
You shook your head lightly, curling in further on yourself. At this point, Quinn was even more confused, but he knew that you weren't going to budge. "I'm just gonna get ready for bed, okay sweetheart? We can talk more in a minute," he went to get ready, and also to collect himself and his thoughts.
When he walked into the en suite bathroom, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Brock's girlfriend had texted him. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He had her number for a reason, but they obviously didn't text much individually.
"Hi Quinn, sorry to bother you so late," it started. "I was a bit worried about Y/N these past few days because she went radio silent over the weekend. We were supposed to have plans over the weekend, but she bailed with pretty much no explanation. So I did some digging on social media, and I found some pretty nasty comments on her most recent posts. I know people sometimes make comments to her at games, but these comments are new. I just wanted to let you know in case that was what was bothering her."
Quinn couldn't believe his eyes. These were some of the most hateful things he had ever read. And he had no idea they were saying things at games. He noticed that you started caring more but also less simultaneously somehow. She did much more hair and makeup than usual, while also covering her body entirely, almost drowning herself in her clothes.
Quinn was horrified. How long have you been dealing with this? Why didn't you say anything? Quinn couldn't get back to the bedroom fast enough. He rushed over to the bed, pulling you into a hug immediately. He felt your tears soaking his shirt, and Quinn had tears streaming steadily down his cheeks. "Why didn't you say anything? I'm so sorry, I love you," he whispered into your neck.
"I didn't want to bother you. I thought I should be able to deal with it by now. The jealousy, the mean girls. But it has gotten worse. They've been truly evil. I tried not to let it bother me, but I couldn't help it." You didn't want to remove yourself from Quinn's embrace. It was the first time you felt comfort in days.
"My love, you are never a bother. I'm appalled of these things they're saying, I can't believe you've been dealing with this in silence. No one deserves this, especially not you, my sweet girl." He coaxed you slowly to look him in the eyes, but you were still touching at almost every nerve ending.
"You are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen," he murmured, running his finger across your cheek. "And above all that, you're kind, loving, caring, empathetic, selfless, giving, and so many other amazing things. You are none of those things they say about you, okay? I'm so sorry, my angel. I know I can't fix it, but I want to. Tomorrow, we're gonna spend the whole day together, okay? And I'm gonna pamper you like you've always deserved. I'm so sorry that you've been going through this. I'm gonna fix it. I'm gonna make a statement, we can limit comments to friends only, make a separate, more private account. Whatever you want, baby. I just want this to be fixed and I want you to be okay. You don't deserve to suffer like this because of some evil, hateful people."
You knew Quinn would be helpful and caring if he ever found out about this, but you never expected all of this. You were exhausted and thrilled just thinking about everything. You had let those hateful people bring you down for so long, now you just wanted to be with your sweet boy.
"Can we do all that tomorrow? I just want to be with you. And I lied, I'm starving, I can smell the food from downstairs and I'm practically salivating," Quinn laughed out loud, causing you to smile for the first time in days. "There's my angel, I love you so much. We can do whatever you want, okay? Anything, my treat. Whatever you want. You deserve that damn food, okay? And everything else in the world, I love you so much."
Tears had begun to stream down your face for a different reason. You couldn't believe how lucky you were to have such a sweet, caring, and thoughtful man to have and to hold.
"I love you, Quinn. Thank you so much," you mumbled with watery eyes. When he leaned in and connected your lips with his, you knew you would get through this. Yes, their words still hurt. It wasn't fixed for good, it wasn't perfect, but you knew as long as you had Quinn by your side, you could make it through anything.
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imaginaryf1shots · 2 months
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Rival? Friend? Lover | Max Verstappen
WC: 1.8K
Max Verstappen x Driver!Reader
Summery: (REQUESTED) You and Max have been rivals for so long but does that mean you hate him, did you ever hate each other.
Masterlist
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Getting into F1 as a female was always deemed impossible, only on the basis that you are a female. The mostly male sport was never welcoming to different people who do  it for their mould, doesn't matter how many videos they do or empty words they say. However, that didn't stop you from trying. Driving in F1 has always been your dream, you didn't care about other motorsports, you wanted to be a part of the pinnacle of motorsports, to race in the best and fastest cars in the world. Getting there wasn't easy, the road was filled with blood sweat and tears and  ups and downs, more downs than ups, but nonetheless here you are today the first female in over 30 years racing an F1 car. And so is your rival Max Verstappen.
It's a well known fact between everyone who's into F1 that you don't have to be enemies to be rivals, as evident by all the friendships on the grid, but you and Max seemed like you're enemies. Since you've been in your karting days and you've always been against each other, always trying to best the other. So many edits of your rivally from Karting to F1 have made their way online.
*
“Max is right behind.” your race Engineer says through the radio.
“Really? I didn't notice.” You day dryly focusing on defending from the number 1 car behind you. He's all over your mirrors. “What is wrong with him? The track is too narrow for this shit.”
“Just focus on defending.” The RE says and you would've rolled your eyes if it weren't for the fact that you're racing at a high speed. 
“Please stop talking!” You're stressed, Max is about to get DRS on you. You're turning the corner before a straight, and what do you know it seems your years of racing together affected your driving because you both went right at the same time and he had DRS on you, causing his car to slam straight into yours. The world stops for a moment, you let go of the steering wheel and hold your breath. You hit the wall once and stop, not a second later Max’s car slams into yours. Red flag is instantly issued and you breathe. Both cars are damaged with bits all over the track.
“Y/n, are you okay?” Your RE asks and you take a breath before saying you're okay. Adrenaline is rushing through your body and you lean back going through your limbs seeing where it hurts.
The moment Max’s car stops he gets out of the car and rushes to your car, he doesn't see you getting out making his heart beat in his chest as dread washes all over him. 
“Y/N! Y/N!” Max shouts going to your car, you look up at him through the visor, his visor is up so you can see his worried eyes looking at you. “Are you hurt?”
“I don't think so.” You say and take out your wheel and slowly stand up, Max has his arms in the air to help you if you need it. The Marshalls are arriving and you jump out of the car, Max has his arm on your back as you get your balance back. 
“Are you sure you're okay?” He asks, seeing how out of balance you are.
“Yeah, just a bit shocked.” You mutter not sure if he heard you or  not. But the safety car is here, and a Marshall leads you to the car to be taken to the medical bay.
You're out of there in no time, walking out you find Max standing near the entrance.
“Did you get hurt?” You ask the Dutch driver, he looks up at the sound of your voice taking you in, your hair is loose and the suit is by your waist. 
“No.” 
“Why are you still here then?” You ask him frowning.
“What, you own the medical bay now?” He says and you scoff, shaking your head at his tone and words, you show him your middle finger as you walk past him. Max curses himself and looks at your figure walking away asking himself the million dollar question ‘since when do I care about this nuisance Well being?’ 
Later on Max is with Lando after the race at a club, with a few drinks in each they're both feeling the effects of the alcohol.
“You know with the crash today, if it was anyone other than y/n you would've had their head for the crash.” Lando says and wiggles his eyebrows teasingly at the RedBull driver.
“No I wouldn't, that's old me.” Max mutters while taking a sip from his drink.
“You literally had a fight with Ocon a few races ago because he clipped your front wing, mind you, you still came first.” Lando points out and Max says nothing. “Also a birdie told me you stayed at the med bay to check on her.”
“Huh, and who might this birdy be?” Max asks and Lando does the motion of zipping his lips. “ you know if you keep saying things like this i'll go find someone else to drink with.”
“I'm sure you'll find y/n somewhere around here.” 
Lando laughs as Max leaves him in the direction of the bar.
*
At another race week, y/n is in the media conference after a race at your home race.
“Y/n, tell me it's been a tough getting past the RedBulls and especially Max, it's been a while since you got a win and some had their hopes on you today, and a lot of the fans are upset and are saying that its become boring now with Max winning every week, what's your take on this?”
“Uh, I feel like it's a bit unfair.” You say looking at the interviewer, Max is literally next to you on the sofa, sometimes you wonder what the interviewers expect to happen when they ask things like this. “It's unfair to hate on someone just because they're winning, you can't expect someone to lose when they can win, if I was in his position I'd give it my all and try to win as much as I could as well.” You shrug. “So all the booing and the hate makes no sense to me and frankly it's unfair.”
“So you don't want to win?” They ask and you frown.
“Where did I ever say that, of course I want to win, I wouldn't still be driving if I didn't think that, this is my home race of course I wanted to win but that's besides the point.” They open their mouth to ask something else and you roll your eyes before cutting them off. “Thank you, next question and to someone else please, I'm not entertaining this any further.”
You place your microphone next to you and take one out of Lewis's books and put on your sunglasses, you're clearly unamused. 
It takes everything in you not to look at Max and wish for this to be over already.
Later on you're walking with Alex and George. “You know I thought you and Max are like the biggest enemies in F1 history.”
You roll your eyes at Alex's words and say nothing.
“Me too, but did you hear her at the conference?” 
“Piss off both of you, I mean I barely said anything, I just don't get how so many people hate on him just for winning, yes I'm tired of the RB dominance but you can't hate an athlete for just winning. How is that girl?” You ramble a bit not realising the looks the taller drivers shared.
“I don't think you realise how you and Max aren't enemies any more.” You scoff at George's words and cross your arms.
“He's still annoying and stuck up.” You mutter frowning.
“You're convincing no one.” Alex says and you sigh.
“Okay whatever, see you later losers.” You say and break off from them to head to your motorhome.
You hear them laughing and flip them over your shoulder. Making them laugh even more.
*
You blame luck, honestly why is your luck so bad? What are the chances of you and Max staying in the same hotel, and what are the chances for you to be in the same left at the same time. AND what are the chances of it breaking down.
“What the heck?” You ask once the left stops moving, you were looking at your phone since you got on. Your eyes fell onto the other rider, who you just realised is Max.
Max presses the floor numbers before pressing the help one. Nothing. 
“Press the help button.” You say.
“What do you think I just did?” Max says frustrated you unlock your phone only to see no signal.
“Do you have a signal?” 
“No.” 
A few minutes later you're sitting on the elevator floor with Max sitting on the other side. You've been silent for a while before Max broke the silence.
"You know, someone said we would make the perfect team." He said out of nowhere. 
"Eww! No!" Was your natural response.
"That's what I thought." Max said and you fell into silence once more. 
“Why do you think we wouldn't make a good team?” You ask Mqx curious about his answer.
“You literally said no too.” Max replied.
“I know… but why do you think that.?” 
“I don't know, we've always been rivals, to be teammates and work together it's just… it's weird.” Max says and you hummed. “What about you? Why do you think we wouldn't make a good team?”
“It's the same I guess.” You shrug and look at your fingers, thinking it over you don't know why, being Max's rival has been all you know for so many years, it's like second nature to you, but thinking back you don't think he's ever done anything to warrant the hate that you realise is not there anymore. You're not sure if it ever was. You whisper. “I'm trying so hard to hate you.” 
“why?” Max asks and you look at him only to find him already looking at you. 
“I have no idea, you've been my biggest rival since we were kids and it's ingrained in me to not like you, but, I don't think we have to hate each other to be rivals.” You say not to overthink the words coming out before you say them. “I just realised that I have no reason to hate you and I don't think that I ever did.”
“To be honest we were kids and then teenagers, lots of unbalanced hormones there.” Max points out and you agree with him, there's a long moment of silence before he says “I don't think I've hated you for a long time as well.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
It takes another ten minutes before the left is working again and you're out. Later that day you get a text from an unknown number.
Unknown Number
Hey its Max
I got your number from Lando
Y/N
Hey it's okay 
What's up?
Max
I know it might be weird but
Do you want to go out with me?
Y/N
Like a date?
Max
Yeah
Y/N
When and where 
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the way some people talk about luke & nicola is disgusting.
at first, the "bridgerton glow up" was a fun joke, but now people are taking it too far. it is literally just a better haircut and better wardrobe that is all the glow up is. i saw someone call luke "ugly and fat." as if he isn't a real human being. just straight up called him ugly and fat and then proceeded to objectify him in the trailer and say he "redeemed himself." respectfully, you can fuck all the way out of here with that. that is such a fucked up thing to say. and i wasn't online when it happened but apparently, these fuckwads are the reason why luke doesn't smile with his teeth much anymore? idk if that's true, but if it is you are a villain. an actual villain. you bullied someone into not smiling, are you proud of yourself?
and nicola. i don't even want to quote the things i've seen said about her. she is a queen. a queen. and yeah, people bring up her body and her looks and say she doesn't deserve to be the lead. the casual fatphobia is disgusting, to say the least. nicola has literally been promoting 3 things at the same time, and she has not lagged on either project. she is the reason we have bts from filming and are getting important moments from rmb. she is a professional and she has a heart of gold. she is also chronically on line (affectionately) so she does see all the shit you antis post. and, i can't even believe i need to say this, that shit hurts. because she is a human being. she has explicitly stated, multiple times, that she wants the focus to be on her work and not on her body. thinking caps on: why do you think that is?
they are both human beings with real feelings. no one is saying you have to love penelope or colin or polin, but they are fictional characters. they won't get affected by some of the fucked up shit yall say. but luke and nicola are real human beings. you can have opinions on them, we all do, but if it isn't positive, maybe shut the fuck up?
it also needs to be said that a lot of the hate comes from people who are fans of kanthony. i usually wouldn't call them out but name but it's true. the person who called luke ugly and fat had anthony bridgerton in her user name. she also had an israeli flag in her bio but that's another rant. most of the hate i see about polin and luke and nic come from people who stan kanthony and/or are huge fans of jonny and/or simone. and that is 50 shades of fucked up. do you think they want fans like that? fans who will say disgusting things about their friends/colleagues and then turn around and praise them? jonny literally calls luke his little brother. no one is saying you have to love polin, but why do you need to say this shit? why can't you just quietly stan kanthony and go about your lives? why do you feel the need to bring down not only fictional characters, but real people?
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mochinomnoms · 4 months
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WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! Congrats on 1k followers Mochi (っ˘з(˘⌣˘ ) ♡ you so so so so deserve it. You always make me smile when I see your posts so I hope you have fun writing them.
If I might make a request, could I have Jade, Trey, and Ace with a romantic prompt 16 (“I won't lose you again.”)? I want to see them cry a lot just a tiny bit. Feel free to let the vibes guide you, I trust it will be very good.
-Yuri
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jade leech, trey clover, ace trappola (separate) x gn!reader [tags] — angst in Ace's, hurt in Trey's, humor in Jade, implied time loop theory [wc} - 1,000+ each prompt 16: “I won't lose you again.” song: Be, Talk (Hozier, “Wasteland, Baby!”), Francesca (Hozier, “Unreal Unearth”) note - @yuri-is-online got it! went a lil wild cause I got massive inspo lmao. Also, let me know if yall can guess the anime I got inspired from with Ace's francesca (1k event)
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“Be like the love that discovered the sin (Lover, be good to me) / That freed the first man and will do so again / And, lover, be good to me (Lover, be good to me)”
There were several things that caught Jade Leech’s attention during his life, but only a few kept his attention, after which he’d abandon his ‘toy’. Fungi, mountains, and poisonous flowers, were exceptions, to name a few. He had to admit to himself (and only himself) that there was one thing that revolved in his mind all this time later, dug deep into his brain like the mycelium of his beloved mushrooms in the forest floor. 
One. Thing. You. The funny little human from the broken down dorm. The funny little human with not a single ounce of magic in their veins. The cute little human that was captivated by his merform, an entirely foreign concept to them. The sweet little human with the even sweeter crush on him all throughout his second and third years. 
Perhaps it was cruel of him to entertain your affections with no real desire to follow through on them. Actually, scratch that, it was cruel of him to do so. It was just so…interesting to him at the time. He grew alongside his brother and Azul, none of them exactly being the most sought after during their childhood or teens. They were feared, each of them for multiple reasons, not exactly prime boyfriend material, despite some of their attempts to curate a specially crafted facade. 
Yet, you were so bewitched by him, enthralled, beguiled, and dare he say lovesick with him despite all the signs screaming “DANGER! DANGER! DANGER!” So please, forgive him for shamelessly flirting, and finding entertainment in your reactions. 
The dilated pupils as he leaned down to make eye contact. The sharp intakes when he cornered you against a library shelf, nonchalantly reaching for a random book. The shiver down your spine as he would lean over in class to whisper some nonsense in your ear regarding the class. All for the sole purpose to see you blush a pretty color and get flustered. Not for the jump in his heart at the thought of being revered so sweetly, or a potential lover being so good to him. 
It was just a bit of fun. That’s all it was. That’s all it was meant to be, when he finally left for his internship his third year. He paid no mind to the wistful look on your face as he gave his goodbyes, nor the strange creak in his heart at the sight.
Jade Leech was all he’s always been, and all he will ever be: a man that left his toys once they ceased to interest him.
Which is why he loathed that he’s been unable to remove you from his mind. Though, did he really? It wasn’t annoyance or hate, but an aching yearning that resided in his being. Jade spent many months tossing and turning in bed as he dreamt of you: shy smiles, soft eyes, and sweet words. He wanted, he needed to be free from this love-struck feeling, this infatuation. It was dragging him down from his finely constructed pedestal, like a sin striking an angel down from heaven. 
Yet, coming back to campus now, presenting his internship research at the end of the year, Jade found himself strangely content with the concept as he watched you. You’d taken on your role at NRC quite beautifully, and were the object of affection for many admirers, much to his dismay. Currently, you were attending to visitors, directing them to their destinations and helping the fourth years find their old clubs and friends, while he admired from around the corner.  
You were as you’ve always been, sweet, cute, and clueless to your surroundings as he stalked closer until he was behind you, leaning down until his lips inched close to your ear. 
He purred breathlessly into your ear, “Oh Prefect~ Is that you, my dear?” Jade didn’t miss the shudder that flew up your spine as you jumped away in shock. 
“EEP! W-what the—” You whipped your head around to berate the man before realizing who it was. “Oh, jeez, Jade! You’re back—why’d you do that?!”
The tall man chuckled as he straightened to his normal height. Oh, how he missed you. And your reactions, of course. 
“I simply missed your delightful expressions, you always have been rather reactive with me, haven’t you?”
“What—nooo. I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Huffing, you crossed your arms and jerked your gaze away in irritation. At least, it would be if not for the blush on your cheeks. 
“Fuhuhuh, that blush suggests otherwise.” A giddy feeling filled his chest as Jade inched closer to you, in which you backed away. This continued until he managed to corner you against the stone way of the hallway. 
“This is a familiar sight, is it not?” Jade cooed as he leaned down again, a hand reaching to caress your cheek. “I did miss you, didn’t you—”
A smack. Jade blinked in surprise as his hand was thrown back by your own. Now you looked more annoyed than flustered. 
“I’m sure you did.” You hissed sarcastically, narrowing your gaze at him. “Ha! Please, more like missed messing with me. If you really missed me, you’d’ve called or messaged me like the others in our class. Even Azul checked up on me!”
Jade…hadn’t been aware of that. He’s been too into his own head, reliving memories with you that it hadn’t occurred to him that you’d actually might lose affection for him. 
The thought made him a little sick. 
He pouted, taking your chin in his hand to tilt your head up to his. “Is that so? Please forgive me for my most egregious sin. I don’t wish to lose you again.”
“Hmph, again?” You made a sound of offense. Despite your words, you still looked up at Jade with a  shy gaze, eyes darting down to his lips every so often. 
You never had me in the first place.” You scoffed, trying to avert your blushing gaze, though he kept a firm grip, moving to squeeze your cheeks into a pucker.  
Jade chuckled, “Your previous actions say otherwise, though I am quite a fool for not taking what was mine in the first place.”
“Y-yours?! You-you-you can’t just say things like that—eep!” You let you a deliciously cute squeak, which he swallowed up as he stole a kiss. 
“Now, now my little lover, be good to me and let me revel in your affections, I’ve derived myself from them for far too long now, have I not?”
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And I'd be the immediate forgiveness in Eurydice / Imagine being loved by me / I won't deny I've got in my mind now (Hey, yeah) / All the things I would do
He wasn’t sure why he had any faith in Crowley to get you back home. Really, that’s on him for thinking the headmage would put any work into your return home. If Trey had known that you’d still be here in Twisted Wonderland, years after his graduation, he wouldn’t have ever broken up with you. 
Granted, it hadn’t exactly been his choice in the first place, as you had abruptly ended the relationship towards the end of his fourth year. Told him to enjoy his life without you weighing him down, despite his insistence that you’d do no such thing. 
Trey finally relented when you told him that you had a world, a family, a home (without him) to get to. Somewhere you belonged, somewhere that wasn’t with him. 
It hurt, yes, knowing that you were never really meant to be with him in the first place. It was simply by magical chance that you were plucked from your world to turn his own upside down. Likewise, it was simply by chance that you and him got together to steal and eat his heart, leaving him almost an empty shell of himself. 
So it was a surprise to see you at Riddle’s wedding, of all places, dressed up in a pretty green outfit as you giggled with some bridesmaids. Seven, you looked good, the fabric hugging all the right spots. Maybe he was being a bit delusional, but Trey swears that the green of your outfit matched the color of his hair, and he had a small possessive streak pass through him at the thought. If it wasn’t for Cater pinching his arm, Trey would be sure that he was in a dream. 
“Ow! Cater!” Trey hissed, rubbing his arm as the strawberry-blonde smirked at him. Cater’s hair was longer now, but he kept his signature style from school still. 
“Go on, talk to them.” Cater nudged him with his elbow, gesturing to you. “I know you want too~”
Trey huffed, watching the liquid in his cup as he swirled his punch. “I’m fine, thanks.”
“Oh, come on!” Cater whined, latching on to Trey’s arm. 
“We didn’t end on good terms.”
Cater countered, “You didn’t end on bad ones either.”
“Hmph.” Trey clicked his tongue, eyeing you from the corner of his eye. Your hair had grown longer, and was dyed. It looked nice on you.
Still leaning against Trey, Cater pouted before a mischievous look passed over his face as he leaned in to whisper in Trey’s ear. 
“Besides, I heard they’ve stayed single since being with you.”
“…” A sigh. “Really?”
“Totes, so you really ought to go make a move before that blonde dude does, though it doesn’t look like he’s having much luck.”
Finally deciding to look up, Trey noticed your uncomfortable expression as the guy twirled a strand of your hair with his fingers. Despite being known for being rather mild-mannered, a handful of your mutual friends knew the truth: Trey had a nasty jealous streak where you were concerned. 
He wasn’t sure when or how he got across the room, but Trey was suddenly hovering over you and the blond man, hazel eyes piercing his back. Surprise flitted your features as a hand was offered to you, along with a familiar. 
“Sorry, hope I’m not interrupting.” Trey had to withhold a smug smirk as he saw your eyes light up at the sight of him. “But would you mind sharing a dance?”
You eagerly nodded, taking his hand and mumbling a half-hearted apology to the other man as Trey guided you to the dance floor, filled with couples sharing a dance to the latest love song. 
His hands rested on the familiar curve of your waist as your arms wrapped around his neck, hesitating before finally settling your hands on the back of his neck. The two of you swayed to the music, a surprisingly comfortable silence between you two. Honestly? It was as if you two never broke up, with how your bodies curled into each other, heart-to-heart.
Yet, neither one of you seems willing to start the conversation he was begging to have.
“… You look beautiful—”
“You look wonderful—” 
Both of you opened your mouths at the same time, interrupting each other before sharing a giggle.
“Sorry, sorry. You go first.”
Trey shook his head. “No, go ahead.”
You smiled, something soft and a bit sad, before looking him up and down. “You look good, got stockier. The bakery’s got you working hard, hm?”
“Ha, yeah. It has, what…about you?”
Your lips thinned, as you looked away. “Still at NRC with Grim, we teach the new Beast-tamer curriculum. It’s…fun.”
Silence fell over you two again, the elephant in the room hanging between you two.
“You’ve been here, all this time, then?”
You nodded, a sliver of shame passing over your features. 
“He never did find me a way home after we…you know…”
Trey sharply inhaled, tightening his grip and rubbing soothing circles as he nodded. “Yeah…why didn’t you…tell me. Why didn’t you come back?” He left out the ‘to me.’
You stopped dancing, making him stumble slightly as he watched your face intently, heart aching at the tears growing in your eyes. 
 “I—” Trey watched as you swallowed a lump in your throat, voice shaky. “—I felt so bad that you’d spent your time and energy on being with me when I might not even stay, so I wanted you to go off and live life. But then, he never did find me a way back, and I realized that I just pushed you away, and I just couldn’t face you—”
You broke into sobs, burying your face into his chest as Trey led you away from the dance floor. He managed to pull you into a secluded hallway, one for the staff to enter in and out of the kitchen. Trey held you close as he rubbed your back, resting his cheek on the top of your head as you rested into the crook of his neck.
“I-I'm sorry… I shouldn't be…” You were sniffling, letting out little hiccups as you spoke. “—crying like this… I'm not trying to make you… feel bad… I just… I should go…”
As you moved to pull away, Trey tightened his grip, hand reaching up to caress your cheek as you looked up at him with watery eyes. You were as beautiful as the day you left him, tears streaking your makeup and all. 
“Don’t, please, I—” Trey sighed, resting his forehead against yours. “I won’t lose you again. I missed you so much, please, stay?”
You nodded, still sniffling, as you moved to kiss the palm holding your cheek. “I missed you too, but aren’t you mad at me? For not coming back?”
Trey shook his head, smiling softly at you. Whatever anger he had was immediately forgiven at the sight of you before him. He couldn’t care less about the last few years, as long as he had you back in his arms again. 
“As long as I can have you back in my arms, the past is forgiven. As long as…you’ll have me?”
The two of you shared another sweet smile, leaning into each other to press your lips in a soft, fleeting kiss. The type of kiss you give when you can’t tell the difference between a dream and reality. Cater’s quick photo of you two lovers would later help cement that fact that this was reality. 
It’s a week later that Trey has that exact same picture set as his home and lock screen.
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I'd tell them, "Put me back in it" (Da-ah, darlin') / I would do it again (Ah-ah, ah-ah) / If I could hold you for a minute (Da-ah, darlin') / I'd go through it again (Ah-ah, ah-ah)
It’s all dark. It’s always dark until the moment Ace opens his eyes and the coffin opens. Ace goes through the orientation ceremony, only to have it interrupted by you stumbling into the Mirror Chamber, an energetic and egotistical Grim demanding to take your spot. 
It’s dark in the cave that he goes into with you two and Deuce to collect the new chandelier magistone. You're screaming, he’s screaming, so are Deuce and Grim. It’s a shit show, even before Riddle comes to drag him and Deuce back to the dorm. 
It’s dark when he makes the trek to your dorm after being collared. Grumbling about just wanting a snack, about Riddle’s unnecessary rage, and about who the hell can remember all 810 rules. It’s light, though, that he sees when you open the door to Ramshackle, the warm, old lightbulbs from the hallway creating a halo around you. 
It’s light again, in the morning as the sun filters through the broken window, you poking him awake to get to class.
Ace has never been one to get sentimental, the idea of love is frightening, to be frank. But looking at you again, light curtaining your features, he was reminded why he did what he did. 
Why he punched Riddle for his outburst and insults to you. 
Why he threw himself into the fight against Leona as he threatened to turn you to sand. 
Why he let himself get “tricked” by Azul again and again, get beaten up by the twins under the sea again and again. Why he tried to run back to school to your rescue, only to be too late again and again. Why he endured the embarrassment of losing the SDC. 
He’d hoped that this time he’d be able to avoid getting into a coma from the S.T.Y.X. Charon robots again, but he had no luck, so you once again had to depend on Rook and Epel getting you through the Isle of Woe. Maybe he should’ve focused on getting Grim back after scratching you, or maybe just prevented him from eating all the blot stones, then you wouldn’t have been in this mess. 
It might have prevented Malleus’s own blot, though Ace wasn’t really sure what led to his spiraling. It was probably a combination of a lot of information, as it was with the rest of the blots. Either way, he’d been hoping that preventing Grim from eating the 8th blot stone would’ve prevented this. 
Ace wouldn’t know though, as he’s been through this year at least 4 times now. Trying to prevent what he’s slowly starting to believe is inevitable.  
He’s replayed your deaths over and over in his brain. The first one that happened, he was upset for losing a friend, but probably would’ve gotten over it. It sounds harsh, but that was the reality of the situation. 
After the second loop, Ace started noticing you more. Things he missed out on the first time. The way you smiled, the way you walked, the way you tugged on your shirt when you were nervous. It was cute. 
It was his third loop that he started noticing little things. How you liked to grab on to his arm when it got too crowded. How you always made an effort to help him in class, despite having to catch up with nearly 2 decades of curriculum just to understand the professors. He noticed how you’d blush whenever he’d make flirty jokes. 
It was his fourth, and current, loop that he really started to view you differently. That he started to view these second, third, and fourth chances as a way to keep you safe. To not lose you again. 
You were always helping him, despite the stress he caused you. Every time you’d let him crash in your dorm, eventually convincing you to let him share at least your room. He’d be up, tossing and turning as he watched your sleep. He wasn’t trying to be creepy, but seeing you take your whole situation in stride, every overblot, every condescending comment, every shenanigan Grim, Deuce, and him really made Ace think about why he was doing this. 
Was it because he felt bad? No, it certainly wasn’t the first time, anyway. Was it because he liked having you around? Kinda, maybe a little. Was it because every time he’d ask you why you got involved with all the drama at school, you’d answer with a shrug, a smile, and simply answer “I gotta protect my friends, as best I can anyway.” That was probably partially the reason.
He thinks the reason he’s so desperate to make sure you stay around is because of the promise you made with him the first loop around: “If I can’t go home, let’s always stick together! I like you, and you like me, so we can support each other every way we can.”
You’d made this promise, in one form or another, every loop.
“Promise we’ll stay friends, even after graduation! I wanna stick by my first friend’s side!”
“Ace? Do you actually promise to take care of me? I know I’m a pain, no magic and all, but I’ve taken care of you in my own way, do you really promise to do the same?”
It was his fourth time watching you live your year in Twisted Wonderland. And it’s then that it clicked for him: he was falling deep into love with the magicless Prefect that cared way too much for others, and much too little for themselves. 
“Ace…” you gasped, a bloodied hand reaching out for him as an overblotted Grim made a rampage throughout the Mirror Chamber. He could hear the others screaming, magic being cast, and a distinct yowl from Grim as Riddle launched another fire spell at him. 
Ace cringed as the giant direbeast that was once his little fiery friend screamed in pain, running around until he tripped and fell through where there was once a wall. Grim let out an eerie, inhuman scream as he fell, a sickening crunch echoing as he landed on the stone ground. For the fourth time, Grim was gone. But that didn’t matter, not when he was watching you die for the fourth time. 
“Hey! Hey, hey, hey I’m here.” Ace had managed to crawl over to you, clasping your hand with his own. He rested your head on his lap as you coughed, red liquid leaving your mouth as you did. 
“No, nononononono—you’re fine!” Ace hyperventilated as he looked over your battered body. He was sure that he had prevented Grim from eating Vil’s blot stone. Was that not the reason he turned into this? Did he only need to eat a few before turning into a monster? He was so confident that he’d managed to keep you safe. So why? Whywhywhywhywhywhywhy—
“Ace.” He froze as you murmured his name, your other hand reaching for his cheek, wiping away the tears he didn’t realize he was leaving. 
“Ace, promise me you’ll stay with me? I don’t want to be alone right now…” you hiccuped as you started crying, curling into his chest as Ace cradled you. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t help! I was so useless, so useless to let Grim get to this point. So useless as a friend, I’m so sorry!”
Ace curled into you, ignoring the voices from behind you two, no doubt the other students coming to the realization that you’d be grievously harmed. 
“I’ll stay with you, I’m always with you.” Ace shuddered. He felt like throwing up. “I’m going to try again, I won’t be too late this time. I’ll make sure to keep you safe this time. I won't lose you again.”
Ace ignored the person shaking his shoulder as he watched you hyperventilate, before your breathing slowed and eventually stopped. He ignored the surprised cries as magic swirled around him, as he activated his signature spell for the fifth, and hopefully final time:
With a flick of the wand, a rhythm sublime,
Reverse The Clock, turn back the chime,
No time to say 'Hello', goodbye!
I'm late, I'm late, I'm late!
It’s all dark. It’s always dark until the moment Ace opens his eyes and the coffin opens for the fifth time.
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comments and reblogs appreciated 🩷
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anadiasmount · 2 months
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day in the life w bf!jude but your sick and not well/feeling so down. jude being all caring and protecting while you are mentally drained and hurt (like my throat LMAO) he’s all taking care of you and immediately on bf protection mode. when you wake up, to when you’re both out, to when you’re both visiting his moms, showering, to when it’s time for bed . then before bed he’s holding you so comfortably, endlessly asking if your okay or if you need anything or to take your thoughts on the pain away, asking you want to watch something w him?
would be the biggest and softest bf ever :(( NEED HIM NOW 😔😔
it was strange to jude you hadn’t woken up early, in the kitchen either on your online class or making your gifted smoothies. it was almost 11am when jude returned from his morning run, walking into your shared room where your were completely tucked in your sheets, head barely peaking as you slept.
jude frowned, walking quietly and sitting on the bed, where you didn’t budge. “y/n? darling? you okay?” he whispered, brushing his fingers on your cheek and tucking your messy and all over the place hair back. you groaned turning away from him, ducking under the covers, “let me sleep! it’s so early jude!” you complain.
“it’s almost 11:30 love…” jude reclaimed, running his hand and massaging the middle of your bare back. “so? still early…” you tried to defend but ended up sneezing and sniffling. “are you sick?” asked jude, immediately opening your night desk drawer and looking for cold and flu pills. it explained your mood and tiredness.
“shh stop talking… my head hurts really bad jude,” you whined, covering your ears. you hated being sick, and it was super rare when you did. though when you were, it was the worst. constant headaches, runny nose all day, congested nose and throat, and body chills, aches all over, which made it hard to do anything. “sit up for me, i have some medicine,” jude ordered listening to your protest but doing as he said.
he opened the bottled water, placing the 2 pills in your mouth and helping you so the water wouldn’t fall or spill. your eyes remained closed, knowing the light would cause more pain. jude gently rubbed your eyes, and brought you to his chest. “promise you, you’ll feel better soon…” he placed a kiss on your temple, rubbing the sides of your arms, “especially if you take a hot bath and eat something.”
“i’m not hungry,” you dismissed shaking your head, “i know but the medicine won’t have any affect if you have no food here,” jude tickled your tummy hearing you let out a small giggle. “drink more water,” he helped you again, seeing as you almost drank it all. “cmon i have to shower too, i’ll help you baby,” he picked and helped you to the bath.
jude softly scrubbed your skin and washed your hair, paying close attention to you being soft with his movements. he loved to take care of you, returning the affection especially when you did it to him after his games or long travels. he massaged your back and neck, feeling the tension go away after. “it feels so nice jude,” you praise, wanting to return the favor but he wouldn’t allow you, saying he didn’t want you to lift a finger.
jude then also helped with your hair care and skincare, knowing you would cause a fuss if you didn’t at least have any moisturizer on. helping you change into some loose and comfortable clothes after rubbing your skin with lotion. “do you want some herbal tea your mom brought us? it will make you be able to digest some food and clear your sinus?” jude spoke softly, seeing as you nodded.
while he prepared and made some soup, he brought you a warm blanket and your tea, setting it down along with some cookies, and antibiotics incase you had an infection or virus. “do you need any help?” you pout feeling bad as he was doing all this work after his game the day before. “no love, i have it handled. i just want you to rest okay? you need to or else how are you going to get better?” he quoted your words when he was injured. you let out a small smile, “thank you, handsome,” your leaned up and hugged him tight.
“we still have stuff to do. we need to go grocery shopping and visit your mom, i promised her to join her later today,” you recalled, sitting up and holding your head. “you can’t go out like this!-”
“i wasn’t asking. i was telling you. i have put it off for so long and there’s barely any groceries left. it will be quick and easy, same with your mom! she needs one on one girl talk and i haven’t seen her in so long,” you tell jude to where he rolls his eyes at your stubbornness. “one on one girl talk? about what?”
“it’s called one on one girl talk for a reason jude… we can leave a little later okay? i’m feeling way better compared to the morning,” you admit, standing up but jude ushers you to sit down, taking your mug to the sink and washing it for you. “i can’t talk this one out of you right?”
“nope,” you deadpanned.
jude made your warm soup, organizing and cleaning up the kitchen so it wouldn’t be a mess. writing down stuff that was missing from the refrigerator, pantry, and other necessities, making note to also refill your medicines. he insisted you wear a jacket, knowing the grocery store would be cold and he couldn’t risk you getting a deep cough and sickness.
“what else is left?” jude asked, placing different veggies in their bags into the cart. he was in charge of bagging and you crossing off items on the list. “new toothpaste, cases of waters and juice, and your snacks,” you read off, following jude as he filled the bottom with water and juice like you said.
“i know i can be annoying when im sick, but thank you for taking care of me,” you said, feeling overwhelmed with joy and happiness to have a boyfriend like jude. he was patient, loving, helping, and sooo protective. he wanted you to feel safe and cared for by his side and he never failed to do that.
“see that’s what we’re not going to do,” said jude when you rejected his kiss, he grabbed your face a placed a messy kiss on your lips. “don’t care if i get sick, just need you to know i’ll do anything for you okay? sick or not,” jude hugged you, as you waited in line to pay.
after returning home and unpacking, you took a small and well needed nap. jude doing some laundry and placing it where it goes, watering your plants and worked out. he also took you to his moms after you insisted, where you guys talked for hours and then did some re-arranging in the house. if there was one thing jude loved, it was watching his two favorite girls get along so well, sharing laughs and making new memories.
you fell asleep once again in the car ride home on jude’s lap, jude massaging your scalp where you fell into a deeper sleep. he carried you to the room again, changing you into a long sleeve and some shorts, also helping you brush your teeth and take the night pills for your cold and headache. “wait for me here okay? gonna make sure everything is off,” he kissed your head.
he brought back a warm blanket and waters, doing his own night routine before joining you in bed. you immediately looked and seemed for comfort on him, resting your side and head on his chest, eyes closing softly wanting to stay up with up. jude held you tight, so in love and infatuated with your beauty even when sick.
“how are you feeling?” jude asked, running his hand along your spine, tracing shapes, and holding you close to him. “mmm better, but my headache returned in the car… and before you worry, the medicine is helping though,” you reassured him, knowing he would be quick to jump out the bed to help you. you loved when he was clingy and just so protective like this. especially when it was about you. “i’m gonna be waking up every now and then to check in on you okay? if you don’t feel better by tomorrow we’re booking an appointment,” he said seriously.
“okay jude,” you nodded, your hand resting on his chest as you felt your sleep return again. it was a long night for you the day before, so sleep is what you planned to do this night, to catch up on it. “if you don’t feel good, just me me know okay? i don’t care if it’s the smallest pain or ache.”
“i promise i will jude.”
“do you need anything else before we go to sleep?” he whispered, “no jude. im right where i want to be,” you smiled, kissing his chest and then a longing kiss on his lips. “we can watch a movie in the mean time? your choice,” you relaxed in his hold, grabbing the remote for him. jude scrolled and scrolled for minutes, finding the perfect movie to end the hectic day.
not even 5 minutes in, you had fell asleep, brows pulled in and a small pout as you rested soundly. you tried to stay up for him but the medics had done it’s job and jude couldn’t complain. him to was tired, after watching a few more minutes he turned off the tv, charging your phones and bringing you up close to him, careful to not wake you.
“sweet dreams darling…”
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r0ttenhearts · 1 year
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Words On a Screen II
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kazuha left you both at the table, your hands warming on a cup of coffee as scaramouche sat in front of you. he looks strangely uneasy, constantly adjusting his many rings on his fingers as he looked at the table, not at you.
“so? what could you possibly have to say to me scaramouche?” he visibly flinched at the lack of your usual endearing names as you spoke to him bluntly. after his many attempts to try and talk to you over the phone he seemed almost afraid to say something to you now that you were both sitting in front of each other.
his mouth opened and closed, no sound coming out. his thoughts were jumbled up and unable to form a sentence, an excuse for what he’s done to you.
“(y/n), i.. i never meant for you to find out that way.”
you scoff, your grip tightening on your mug as you look at his face.
“oh really? is that so? so when was i to be notified that my so called lover has been cheating on me? tell me, when?”
scaramouche’s eyes widened as he looks you in the eyes, the hurt and anger swirling in yours almost want to make him look away.
“i’m sorry, (y/n). please just, look— you know me, okay? you know the real me, unlike anyone else has. you know this hurts me as much as it hurts you. everything i said to her— i didn’t mean it. honest. all i see is you (y/n).”
he reaches across the table, grabbing your hand before you promptly snatch it out of his grip. glaring daggers at the boy you once swore you’d always forgive. scaramouche’s head hung low, his hands on his lap as his hair covered his eyes.
“please.. let’s just go home. i promise i’ll make this up to you. we still have so much planned, remember? our anniversary is coming up a-and we haven’t gotten married yet, in sumeru like we said we would. don’t let that go to waste—”
“oh really scara? don’t let it go to waste? you’re the one who did that. you did that when you got in bed with that woman, professed the same words we said to each other to her! this is not my fault.”
you laughed dryly, standing up from the kitchen table as you walked over to kazuha’s door. scaramouche looked up from his lap, looking the most vulnerable you’d ever seen him as he looked to your angry form opening the door.
“please get the fuck out of kazuha’s house and never talk to me or show yourself around me again.”
scara slowly stood up from the table, walking out of the house as you slammed the door behind him.
it was really over, like he said it would be.
but why did it hurt so much? didn’t he say he hated you? hated your “suffocating” presence in his life?
why did it feel so.. empty now?
the drive back to your once shared home was quiet. the anxiety in his stomach bubbling over as he stumbled his way into the kitchen, digging in the liquor cabinet you both would only indulge in on special occasions.
grabbing the biggest bottle he could find, he uncapped the liquid and took a big gulp. the stinging in his throat didn’t seem as much of a comparison with the burn in his heart.
you were really gone. he’d never wake up to your cuddles, meals, kisses and affection, or even see you again.
he fucked up. big time.
he sat on the kitchen floor, laughing quietly to himself as the bottle sat next to him, uncapped.
he couldn’t even think of haypasia now, not with you gone. wasn’t she the whole reason why this happened? his affair with a woman he couldn’t care less about now?
it was ironic really, the way he saw the both of you now that he’d lost you. you’d far outweigh the scale of what he’d wished and yearned for since his abandonment as a child.
and what, now you were going to stay with kazuha? the man he introduced you to? it all tasted bitter as he took another swig of the bottle.
time seemed to pass slowly after the breakup. scaramouche stopped streaming and disappeared online, the same being for haypasia. he no longer talked to her after that day, staying cooped up in his now empty home, hugging a sweater you had forgotten to bring along.
when he heard you and kazuha had gotten together he drunk himself into a heavy hangover. he didn’t consider himself a drinker, not until that day. those big shiny bottles being his only comfort as you had taken the small cat that you both had adored.
this was the life he had declared he had wanted for the past two years to a woman he no longer cared to speak to.
but it was just words on a screen, right?
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auckie · 25 days
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I think the things that offend me most nowadays in like, smaller interpersonal interactions rather than grand, sweeping trends in culture, are when people chose to not partake in a wide set of things. Like musical close mindedness, or refusal to try different foods from different cultures. Not watching an entire subset of films bc they’re ‘french’. Avoiding reading bc you say you have adhd and it’s too hard. Like dude I get it, I’m busy. I can be picky. Everyone can. But the willful ignorance of closing yourself off to those VAST portions of the human experience, and not having curiosity and a lust to learn and explore art that was made by someone worlds apart from you either in terms of their culture, era, whatever. I dunno man it just pisses me off so bad. I think it’s arrogant. Like oh you’re comfortable in your safe little bubble huh? And you’re enforcing its barriers with the excuse that you’re autistic and have sensory issues. With music made by black people?? lol okay. It is pretty presumptuous for me to assume malicious intent but I think those prejudices are borne from either the comfort of being someone who’s wealthy and probably white not feeling the need to learn past what they think is enough, or it’s a reflection of a society that’s taught you to prioritize what it shills— popular, current (white, depending where you live ig) artists who are making streamlined, easy to digest content. Often when I meet people with these issues they’ll have one particular ‘niche’, and it tends to be like. 70s music. Victorian literature. Anime and Japanese games. But they’re still not really investing beyond the media presented. Like there’s so much more to Japanese culture than liking some cartoons put out between 2010-2020. You don’t gotta become some sorta Einstein who learns the background of every little freak in FGO yeah. But don’t you wanna aim higher? Aren’t you interested in any of the historical figures? And nothings wrong with hopping onto a trend. You read Dracula bc of that Dracula daily thing. Cool! Read more. Some people will say they’re chronically ill or disabled and can’t get outside. That’s okay. The internet is full of things you can read other than fanfiction, YouTube has a shit ton of free music. There’s Wikipedia and free articles online if you have questions about things. Yeah nobody is spending four hours a day looking at the national archives website and studying art history but it’s imbued in the things around you, and youll absorb it ambiently as you go along. you dont have to be a jack of all trades and cover every major genre of every major medium, but it never hurts to try! I really love seeing ppl ask too. Bc it can be kind of humiliating to admit to what seems like some jackass hipster that you’ve never delved into, idk, Serbian films (lol not that one). And hopefully if whoever you’re asking will give you honest good recommendations and not berate you. I’m kind of berate a straw man rn I guess. The hostile tone def doesn’t lend to an atmosphere of sharing but I cannot tell you how many times I’ve rbed anything involving specifically jazz only to see someone rb and add the stupidest comment on the post, or in the tags, or go into my inbox to be like waaah I don’t like jazz bc it’s boring and old and for pretentious hypocrites who hate neurodivergent people! Like what are you TALKING about. Fine if you don’t like it but don’t try and rationalize that as a moral standing you shit lark. And just as they’re allowed to dislike jazz I’m allowed to not really enjoy people who don’t like jazz. Or country. Nautical knots. Knit wear. Watching urbex YouTubers get their shit rocked by squatters. Korean food. Pachuco fashion and stupid ugly low riders. Bollywood films. and they don’t want to try any of those things either yknow? The next thing I’m getting into is circuit bending.
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noxtivagus · 2 years
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good afternoon c:
#🌙.tbd#just a quick vent. maybe the last one on this account before i spam these sort of things on that sideblog instead#tbf i think i'll feel better in a bit. i slept at half to 7 and i woke up sometime at 3 pm around an hour ago#anxious. i think. overwhelmed. likely too. i'm so tired of thinking too much about all this bcs i know i can manage better but#am i not sure what to do? maybe i'm afraid? bcs fuck i don't want others to worry. i really really need to stop writing these things. but#idk i'm afraid of the image i put out to others. afraid of how it impacts the world around me.#so i want to hide. but then i feel like a fraud. in these anxious moments. am i faking being better?#the contrast of it. hurts. i've never been one to hide. i hate hiding. but i'm so used to hiding. i'm too accustomed to it#i think i'm afraid. recently i think i've been influencing some friends more idk about my irls i don't talk to them particularly a lot but#one example is online friend on twt that i mostly talk in a gc w apollo. we've been talking more ever since the 28th n very recently#(yesterday) we've been talking in dms & maybe that's opened up smth i may have been bottling recently#am i afraid of making mistakes. that if i'm not 'perfect' or 'ideal'. my worth would be lacking?#that's smth i've struggled w all my life i think. since as a kid i used to perform very well in school n all. i was so afraid of failure#but at the same time i knew i was lacking. i was too shy. i was afraid to recite. n other things brought me down too#sometimes i feel so fake bcs other times i genuinely can be proud of myself. but when anxiety grips me. everything changes#and i feel so fake bcs i can't seem to really accept in a way that. bcs fuck i know that's normal. i'm human. i'm human....#what if i'm not aware of the extent i push others away. of this subconscious barrier around me i can't take down no matter what#i shouldn't have to be so afraid. but even if i am. i shouldn't have to be so harsh on myself#then i just get confused. overwhelmed. i wish i could just force myself to be better. but i know i need to slow down. just feel this#overwhelmed by what i'm doing. what i need to do. what i'm not able to do. the pressure i place on myself is so anxiety inducing#i know i can do better. but rn in these moments it's just so hard for me to 'rest'. accept that i#it hurts bcs i'm so weighed down by it all. being too much? too little? what is real & what is fake? it's hard going on confused#i feel like a hypocrite. i just can't seem to really be kind enough to myself to genuinely accept that#i'm human. it's alright to feel like this. it will pass too. it always does.#but then it weighs me down even more when i think of my mistakes in the past. & of the time i'm wasting by doing all of this#then i'm just left overwhelmed and confused and sorry. sorry for everything i've done & couldn't do.#sorry because i'm just not enough in these moments. too much too little... never quite enough. i'll try to rest though. even if it hurts#being afraid of the unknown right now hurts so much when last night before i went to sleep i was writing to myself about how much it#fascinates and interests me. but life isn't consistent. and as human i also have my downs. it's inevitable. i need to really accept that.#but it's so so hard. it hurts it suffocates me n leaves me cold. i wish i could at least just be good enough for others.
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adventuringblind · 4 months
Text
Don't Leave Us
Lestappen x Reader
Genre: angst, hurt/comfort
Summary: With the mass amount of online hate and a relationship that's not public, it all gets too much.
Warnings: graphic depictions of self-harm, graphic depictions of suicide
Notes: I hope you're doing okay, Nonny! Maybe this will help you like it does me :)
side note: I am not above begging for interaction. Fill my inbox with feral driver thoughts! Interact with my posts! It feeds my praise kink and makes me giggle and kick my feet 🥰
Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi
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It's not like the toxicity of social media is a new thing. She's always known that it could happen. She just wasn't expecting it to be so... much.
Her relationship with Max and Charles isn't out for the public. There are dangers that come with opening that up for everyone to get a glimpse of. Reporters waiting to make snide remarks. Fans that want to bash on the drivers they dislike.
Plus, she's not famous. People don't notice her. At least - they didn't until recently.
Some WAG account had managed to get photos of her with either Max or Charles. Not the three of them together. Speculative fans determined she must be playing both of them.
Not all of them, some people defend her. Those comments make her cry out of relief that at least someone isn't trying to tear her down.
She doesn't bring it up to either of the boys. They have enough on their plates as is. Stress and sickness become her new best excuses to not go out in public.
Sure, she's isolating herself and not talking to anyone. Carmen and Lily keep trying. She's just not ready to show her face.
Nothing is sacred anymore. The rumors are too much. Even avoiding all social media isn't enough. She can't even leave her house without someone trying to discreetly take her photo.
Her skin burns with attention every time she steps out the door. She can't eat knowing people are always looking at her. She can't even go to the shop to get groceries or to her mailbox.
It gets worse by the day. Soon enough, someone figures out where she lives. Knowing she has a stalker makes every ounce of security she once had vanish.
It's miserable seeing her information leaked out for everyone to see. Privacy is now a luxury of the past. It's enough to send her spiraling.
When her safety is called into question, Max and Charles bring her to Monaco. They are willing to risk it for her. Their attempt at giving her some piece of mind by staying in the same apartment only makes her thoughts darker.
She's the reason there is so much negative publicity. The sharks are circling them, just waiting for one wrong move. Is she ready to be the catalyst for her lovers' downfall?
The thought sends her stomach up her throat. The thoughts swirl around her head, paralyzing her body into a perpetual state of fear. Stuck in a luxurious Monaco penthouse. Because people being toxic and stalking her is such a horrible problem to have. She should just suck it up; pretend everything is fine.
So then, why is it so hard? Why can't she just be alright?
One week. A plan in her head and a smile plastered on her face. The boys haven't asked about it. Their concern shows in the facial expressions, but they don't push. Maybe it would be better if they did. Send her already crumbling walls to the ground.
She deep cleans on Monday. She does her best to make sure the apartment isn't in disarray, that her own things are packed away, so they won't have much to deal with. The contrasting red and blue of Max and Charles' clothes are the only things left in the closet when she's done.
Speculations start again on Tuesday. Max and Charles spend all day in some PR meeting about it. It gives her time to sort out her affairs without them hearing her. She cooks them dinner to help ease the frustrations. Their teams don't want them to come out, but they do.
Wednesday, they leave to their next destination. She doesn't leave the hotel room despite the concerns of others. Carmen and Lily come around at some point. They eat in with her and kick out the boys. It feels normal for the first time in months. She almost breaks and tells them.
Thursday is media day. She feels for both boys as they get asked invasive questions about their love life. They look stressed. She gets hugged a little tighter that night. It calms the thoughts, but it's not enough. They hurt more every day. She's just wants it to stop.
Practice on Friday goes well for both. Max and Charles are in better spirits. She drags herself out to eat with them. the boys don't care who sees. She does. The anxiety nearly suffocates her. eyes crawling over her skin. Please, make it stop.
Saturday is a wreck. The qualifying is difficult for both her partners. Their relationship status is once again coming under fire. The speculating is becoming extreme, enough for the whispering of the paddock to become deafening to her ears. She spends her time hiding away, writing her last thoughts in messy scrawl.
Sunday, they turn the weekend around. The podium has always suited them. Smiling for everyone to see and dousing each other in champagne. She smiles too, even though it hurts.
They fly back to Monaco that night. Conversation turns to going public despite team wishes. They are willing to risk it for her. She can't bring herself to say yes. They worked hard to live their dreams; she won't ruin it for them.
Monday comes around again. The notes are laying out on the table. The boys are with their friends, some kind of brunch get together.
She leaves the bathroom door unlocked.
The bath filled, her clothes still on. Her thoughts finally still. Tears streak down her face.
The water is cold.
Then it's red.
~~~~~
"I worry about leaving her alone." Charles pulls the car back into its spot.
"Well, if we brough her along it wouldn't be much of a surprise, yes?" Max checks his watch again. "Plus, what could she have done in the fifteen minutes we were gone?"
They haul the ridiculous number of snacks to the front door. They decided last week they would see if they could coax the female out of her depressive state, just for a little while. Maybe get her to confide in them. If not, then at the very least a therapist.
The distance is damn near suffocating. She's so close physically, yet so far away mentally. Always staring at the walls with a distant look in her eyes.
The apartment is eerily quiet when they step inside. The kind that Charles despises after living in a chaotic house with two brothers and three busy schedules his Maman had to keep track of.
He drops the bags and peers around the entry way. Then searches the corridors until he finds one of the bathroom doors closed.
Charles knocks on the door but receives no response. "Cheri? Are you not feeling well?"
Charles almost dives out of the way when Max comes barreling down the hallway. The Dutch tries the doorknob, heavy breathing filling the odd silence.
Charles pales at the sight revealed to him. Paralyzed that this horrific scene could even be a possibility. Is he dreaming? He has to be - there isn't any way for this to be real... right?
"Charles!-" the Monegasque is dragged from his thoughts. Real or not, Max needs his help. Scratch that - she needs his help. "- Get an ambulance!"
Charles fishes his phone out of his pocket and makes the call. Max is desperate trying to stop the bleeding from the vertical slit traveling her forearm. "Is she...?" He can't finish the thought. Heart being through his chest at the possible answer.
"Pules is there but faint." Max sounds like he's desperately trying to hold back his tears. His mind working desperately to keep her alive.
Charles must space out. He doesn't remember opening the door or watching her be carried out by the swift paramedics. The car ride doesn't register, not until they are already in the waiting room.
Max hands him her notes. The paragraphs she wrote to them. A final goodbye in messy scrawl, but the tails of her letters still curled.
"She did it for us, Charlie, because she thought she was hurting us."
They both break down in the uncomfortable waiting room chairs. Charles violently sobbing. Neither of them respond to their messages. Phones buzzing with calls that go to voice-mail.
A doctor comes calling her name. Charles is only half listening. Specifically looking for either a confirmation of death or the relief of hearing that she's okay. Max seems to be paying attention. His shoulders sag, and there is a soft look on his face when they are left to their own devices.
"She's alive, Charlie."
He erupts until tears once more.
~~~~~
Everything hurts. Her thoughts are fuzzy. There is something soft beneath her.
The white ceiling is paired with the burning smell of alcohol. A sterile environment. Meaning-
Fuck. How did it go so wrong? How had they managed to keep her alive?
The beeping on the heart monitor picks up. A sign that she's definitely alive and in a hospital.
Her attempts at moving are futile. There is too much pain and exhaustion to do so. A pulsing behind her ears drowns out the thumping of her heart.
"Rest now, amour."
It takes a single stroke of Charles' fingers on her cheek to make her entire facade shatter into nothing.
She's mumbling incoherent words. It's a string of apologies, rants of anger and embarrassment, and confusion at why they are even here with her. They are continually reassuring her. They coo into her ear how they are so glad she's alive. That she doesn't have to fight whatever battle through hell this is alone.
Recovery is difficult. They have to put her on a suicide watch, but Max and Charles somehow manage to keep her out of the psychward. Mostly because they want to be with her at all hours of the day.
They miss a singular race for her. Then drag her to the next. Part of the deal they had made was that they won't sacrifice their careers for her.
They negotiated with the teams. Managed to wriggle around their soft spots and get them to approve going public. Max and Charles want to openly defend her. No more public executions. They'er pulling her out of the shark infested waters that is the media.
It's slow. People ask about it sometimes; why Charles and Max had missed that race. None of them give an answer. They aren't obligated to.
"Why fight for me?" She asks. a year after the events.
"Because chéri, we love you enough to help you carry the burden."
"Honestly liefste, we fight for what we believe in. We believe in you and the love you have for us."
"Maybe it's selfish, but we want to share that with you. Keep you here with us to go on adventures and explore the different paths life offers."
"So don't leave us yet. You are worth every sacrifice."
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