#im a dumb ass and didn't post it to the right account
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—seven days. [ iii ]
pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.
summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.
author's note: hi hello welcome to part three. i flunked the quiz. lemme know what you think. NOT BETA READ. NOT EDITED. this chapter kinda sux. can't believe i went through a breakup just last week and i still cant write decent post-breakup scenes.
tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab hope i didn't forget anyone.
masterlist.
you: *sent a link*
him: ?
him: what's this
you: benefits of crying
you: read it it's enlightening
him: some people do not cry over a breakup you know and that is totally okay
you: why crying helps.
you: 1. tears release toxins, stress hormones to be specific. it is good to let all the bad energy out.
you: 2. it aids sleep. no need for further explanation.
you: 3. crying releases oxytocin and endorphins. i know you don't know what an oxytocin or an endorphin is but they're happy chemicals.
you: 4. crying helps you receive the support you need from the people around you. EMOTIONAL VULNERABILITY is okay, max. stop treating it like an STD.
him: it feels like an std
you: pussy
you: emotional vulnerability is a thing and it's normal so stop trying to be a big strong man when you're barely holding it together.
you: you may look fine now but i know you
him: please stop
you: no
you: 5. crying has a self soothing effect. very nice actually. it activates the rest and digest system.
him: what even is that
you: the parasympathetic nervous system
him: ??
you: this is why you shouldn't have dropped out of high school
you: education is important yknow
you: youre already lacking in three forms of intelligence, academic, emotional n social intelligence
him: fuck you im smart
you: fuck you 2 and yeah you're smart but only in geography
you: you probably can't do your taxes
him: im dutch so the company's account department do it for me by default
him: the american system is just weird
you: cant argue w/ u there
you: also, 6. crying helps restore emotional balance
you: see? you need that
you: yknow now that i think abt it you should consider seeking therapy
him: what makes you think i’m not in therapy right now
you: well have you considered getting MORE therapy?
You stand in front of the body mirror, holding the Red Bull polo shirt against your body to see how it looks on you for one last time. On your right sleeve, the word MANAGER is written in bold, white text. Because that was what you were. Just a manager.
In another universe this is not the shirt that you’d be wearing. The MANAGER would have been ENGINEER. In another another universe where your family has been well-off enough to continuously send you to karting school and you would have been the one driving the fucking car by now.
You know, if Max has even tried talking to Horner and suggested that you should be moved into the engineering team, then you wouldn't be stuck wearing this god-awful polo that burned your skin every time you wore it for work. Everybody reduced you as Max’s American manager and because you are American, most of them kind of just assumed that you're dumb, you know?
Does the world even know how smart you are? That you graduated top of your class, got the best thesis award, and that you had finished your masters just this year? Did they even know that a Japanese car company wanted you on their research team? That a NASCAR team wanted you on board as one of their engineers? Does Max even know?
Fuck no. He only knows that you're the best at ironing clothes and organizing his Google calendar and memorizing his entire coffee order by heart. He knew you're good at extinguishing kitchen fires and kicking ass in YSL Opyum heels. You doubt he knows that you can do Calculus in your sleep.
You can take it if the world puts you down for your appearance. But if the world puts you down because of your intellect? That's a different story. You'll take any insult to the face but not to your intelligence.
You have four days left in Monaco so you have begun packing already. You're right, everything did fit into three suitcases. Also, you haven't told Max yet. For some reason, you’re too anxious. Which is shocking to say the least because you never ever gets anxious when it came to Max Verstappen. You wouldn't have lasted this long working alongside Max if you were a pussy.
Max Max Max Super Max Max—
“[Name] here. Need anythin’, champ?”
Hearing a sob on the other end of the line immediately activates your fight or flight response. Your eyes widen and you toss the Red Bull shirt aside. Your legs leads you to the nearly empty shoe rack stationed beside the front door, grabbing the pair of shoes at the very top of the tiny shelf and throwing them on.
“I’m comin’ there. Hang on, Max. You wait for me, okay?”
He doesn't answer, just continuing to sob and the sound absolutely breaks your heart.
You run to his penthouse at a speed that will even put the RB19 to shame. Not even bothering to knock, you barge in and yell his name in the empty halls of his penthouse. You search in the kitchen. He's not there. The living room. Not there either. The room where his simulations are. Not there. You run to his bedroom upstairs.
The door is locked. Dammit. Panic overflooded your system.
“Max, sweetheart, you there?”
No answer, but you can hear a faint sound behind the door if you press your ear against the wood. Firefighter training covered how to open a fucking door when it was locked so this once again becomes a situation where you're grateful that you did that tiring and borderline suicidal volunteer work.
Max keeps a fire extinguisher inside his penthouse as per your advice. There is one stationed in almost every room inside his house. You knew there is one inside his room and another one just at the end of the hallway. You make a quick run for it and once you have the extinguisher in your hands, you run back to his door.
“Step away from the door!” you instructed while your mind mentally calculates your payment plan as you hit the door knob with so much force, the walls tremble at your strength. You're functioning on pure adrenaline. Your instincts only yell one thing and that is: go to Max. No one and nothing in this world will keep you from him. It isn't long until his bedroom door broke down. With one last final kick, it crumbles down from its hinges and you forcefully pry it open and sprint inside.
Max tucks himself in the tiny space in the corner of his huge bedroom, his knees shoved up to his chest. A 181-cm tall man trying to make himself as small as possible.
This is it. This is the bottled-up emotions he's been storing since Abu Dhabi. You cannot say you have not anticipated this. Max is bound to explode sooner or later.
Panic attacks have made a home in Max’s body since he was a child. That's what one gets when they’re parented by someone like Jos Verstappen. He killed Max’s soul and made the boy a machine and for what? To shape a child into a man, a racer that he wanted to be but failed to become at the cost of Max's mental health and childhood.
When Max looks up with that heartbreaking look on his face, you almost crumble. Almost, because you cannot crumble. Not when Max needs you.
Sometimes, you forget what it took for Max to become the champion that he is today. A childhood sacrificed for his dominance on the tracks. A whole lot of hatred from the people to become a WDC. And now, a love lost for his third consecutive championship.
“You came,” his voice cracks towards the end.
Your eyes soften, “You called, Max. Course I’ll come.”
You barely brace yourself for the impact that is Max’s body wrapping around yours in a tight hug. The man have literally launch himself from the floor to you at sixth gear speed. You stumble backwards slightly, holding his bed for support so the both of you won't fall down.
“Max—”
“No,” he whispers and his grip on your tightens as if he's afraid that you’ll slip away if he even tried to give your lungs space to breathe. “Don't speak. Stay.”
What Max wanted, what Max would get. So you shut your mouth, shuffle slightly so he'll be in a more comfortable position and allow him take whatever he wants from you. This will be the last chance he’ll ever do it anyway because in four days time, you’re flying to Texas.
You stay for what is probably hours in that position. Crumbled together on the floor, leaning against the side of Max’s king-sized bed. Your shirt is completely damp from his tears but you cannot even bring yourself to care about it.
“Your shoes…” It's the first time Max has spoken since the start of his meltdown.
“Hm?” you turn your head and your nose nuzzles against his hair, making you scrunch it up a little. His hair is tickling your nostrils. If you lean a little forward, your lips will meet the skin of his temple.
“They’re mismatched.”
Brows furrowed, your eyes move to your feet and see that Max is right. Your shoes are indeed mismatched. On your left is one of your Adidas slides and the other is your slip-on Skechers. You ran from one building to another in mismatched shoes. Fucking embarassing.
“Ignore them.”
Silence.
“You good now?”
“No.”
“Okay,” you say. “If you want to talk, I’ll listen.”
You hear Max let out a shaky breath, “Just stay for a while. Don't leave me alone.”
“Okay.”
Eventually, you manage to talk Max out of the hug. You're beginning to feel claustrophobic but you do not want to say it out right so you try to negotiate instead. That's how you and Max found yourselves inside his kitchen again. You're trying to replicate your Abuela's cheesecake, which she was known for back in Austin, and Max is…well, he's Max and he’s trying to be helpful in any way he can. If it's some other day, you'd have shoved him out of the way because you prefer working alone in the kitchen. Having eyes on you gives you anxiety. But given today’s circumstances, you do not have the heart to make Max leave so you task him with doing the little stuff like mixing things and throwing shit to the trash can nearby. And he does so splendidly.
“Thank you, by the way.”
“For what, baby?” You internally wince at your own slip of the tongue. Damn that habit of yours of calling people with affectionate call signs. Thankfully, Max seems to have not noticed it.
“For coming here.”
You shrug.
“I only did what you did for me in 2021.”
Again, your breakup with Leo was bad bad. You spent a month crying for a love lost and Max was there for you. For the most part, at least. You want him to focus on winning and winning alone that you pushed him away a lot of times but you appreciated how he was more obedient to your commands, that he held his tongue so he wouldn't piss you off even though he was not liking your words, and that he was considerate of you.
“I hope you won't go into fights though,” you chuckle. “Like I did after my breakup.”
He smiles, shaking his head lightly and you know he's recalling the memory. 2021 is a hilarious year for you, the Red Bull manager. You went viral after getting into a cat fight with a girl and a whole fist fight with her boyfriend.
You and Leo called it quits a week before Monaco and even though it had been four races since then, your heart was still in a quite fragile state at that specific race weekend. One minor inconvenience was enough to ignite a wild blaze of fire within you and nobody could extinguish the flames.
After Silverstone FP1, you were leading Max to the cool down room to brief him with Horner’s relayed instructions and someone had thrown a glass bottle towards the both of you while walking. Originally, Max was the main target of the bottle but you happened to have moved towards the line of trajectory and the bottle landed on your temple, hard enough that you stumbled upon impact.
You barely heard Max’s shocked gasp and shout of panic over the sound of glass shattering on your foot because the only thing you could register was the terrifying feeling of a thick liquid trickling down the side of your face and you didn't even need to see it to know it was blood.
The only thing you saw was red and it was on fucking sight.
Fucking Hamilton fan. Fucking Hamilton. He’s in Max’s way. He’s in your way. He’s the wall that was dividing you from your dream position in the engineering team.
You shoved the iPad you were holding to Max’s hands and marched down to the woman wearing the Merc #44 merch, swiftly jumping over the barricade and grabbing her by the collar of her pristine white Versace top.
The events that followed were too fast. You grabbed her collar. She pulled your hair. You also pulled her hair. Someone pulled her away from you. You tried to grab her, clawing her bare arms with your manicured nails. She screamed. You screamed back. You pulled out some curse words in Spanish as well because cursing her in one language alone is not enough. Her boyfriend appeared. A quick punch to your cheek. You fell to the ground.
The world stood still. There was a sting on your palm because your skin got torn from the hard surface of the concrete ground. You let a bloodcurdling war cry and your Dad would definitely be disappointed at you for using the boxing techniques he taught you for self defense purposes only to fight a guy two times your size.
Everything was a bigger blur from there. But you did remember the sensation of Max’s strong arms around you, stopping you from lunging forward again. He was saying sweet words to your ear to calm you down but your brain failed to intercept them so you could hear the words, could hear his voice, but not understand any of it. You remember Christian Horner's disappointed face that haunted you even two years later. You remembered feeling so terrified as you sat outside Christian Horner’s office waiting for the final verdict while he and Max and a few of the Red Bull higher-ups argued about your future with the team. You remembered hearing Max’s loud snarl on the other side of the mahogany door: “Did you see her face?! There was blood everywhere! On her nose, on her mouth, on the fucking side of her head!” You remembered the girl taking the case to court. You remembered fearing that you’d be sent to jail. You remembered that she lost the case because it was ruled as self defense and your injuries were grave. You remembered discovering that it was Max who used all his power and got the best lawyer to fight your case. You remembered the atmosphere in the Red Bull garage shifting when you entered it a few weeks later and everyone stared the bandages and bruises. Everyone thought one thing: of course, it would also take a monster to manage a monster like Max Verstappen. You remembered Lewis Hamilton, seven-time world champion, apologizing personally for the fight caused by his own fan. He didn't need to but he was so sincere with it that you cried when he handed you the apology flowers. God, how could you even hate this man? Your anger towards him was misplaced.
You’d been living with the guilt ever since, that you were horrifyingly violent for a day, that you were capable of killing for a day. And it could happen again. One day. God, you hoped you wouldn't have to see that day. You knew all your coworkers have been careful with angering you ever since. They're terrified of you even. Max should be, too. But then again, why would he when he already saw the horrors done by his father’s hands ever since he was a child? He was used to it.
“I won't,” he says, smiling at you. “I wouldn't want to add anymore problems for you to clean up.”
But you will not be the one cleaning it up because you resigned. You didn’t tell that to him though. Not right now. He just had a meltdown over Kelly leaving him and the news of his manager leaving him too will destroy him.
The cheesecake is a little burnt when you take it out of the oven but it actually adds more flavor to it so yeah, that's a win.
“We should drink,” you suggest.
“It’s mid-afternoon.”
“We drank at mid-afternoon yesterday,” you give him a blank stare. “With Alex and Charles, remember?”
He doesn't say anything as you make your way to his fridge and pull out two bottles of beer. Max has champagne stored somewhere but you have enough of those expensive champagnes. You need beer. Beer is good. Beer is nice. You're a beer type of person and it is time Max becomes one, too.
“I’m no scientist,” you begin, biting off the beer’s bottle cap. “But according to chemistry, alcohol is solution.”
Well, technically, edible alcohol or ethanol is not a mixture. Rather, it's a pure substance that happens to be a liquid at room temperature and typical atmospheric pressure. Pure ethanol is not a solution. Hard spirits though? That's a solution.
Beer is not a hard spirit. It's more of a fermented drink. But Max doesn't know that, though, so you don't bother explaining the science behind it.
Somewhere down the road, the two of you move to his living room. You use the Youtube app in his TV to search karaoke video and have the bestest time of your lives. You're screaming along some Daddy Yankee and El Alfa songs and Max doesn't know how to speak Spanish so he’s just vibing to it.
At 5 PM, you pull out Max’s expensive vodka bottle. Now this is the real shit. The ten bottles of beer? Those are just pregame. Max is already drunk with just those because he’s a pussy but you’re no pussy, so the only right answer is vodka! Viva la vodka or whatever.
Your throat gets tired of singing and Max gets tired from dancing, too, so you both decide to just go entertain yourselves in other ways. First, you introduced Max to beer-pong. He loses, of course. He sucks at everything not racing. Then, the two of you move onto chess. Max gives up mid-game. He cannot understand the rules. Then, lastly, you move to the billiard table Max owned. He only used it when the other guys are over and you do not even know why he bought it when he sucked at playing billiards.
“You know what Kelly said the morning before the race?” Max suddenly says and you look up at him, brow raising slightly. He’s drunk; his skin is flushed and he is all giggly and smile-y as he sits on the billiard table’s side rail and using the billiard stick as some sort of support stand to keep him from falling. You hope he won't accidentally poke himself. You're no better, too. Ten beer bottles and a few glasses of vodka. But you’re not as drunk as Max, and you still have a straight vision and you can still sink the colored balls into the pockets of the billiard table.
“Hm?”
“That it was unfair for her.”
You raise a questioning brow, “Why?”
“I bought shoes and they don't fit her.”
You blink. He laughs at himself as if he has uttered the funniest joke in the world.
“Three years of relationship gone because of a single pair of shoes,” he continues. “She wanted those shoes, too.”
Kelly….what the fuck?
“But that's okay. She….She made me open my eyes, you know? She made me realize what I truly love.”
“Racing.” It's not even a question. It's the truth.
Max stares at you, long and hard, and you look away first because you fear that if you allow yourself to stare too long, you’ll drown in those beautiful blues. This is enough heartache for the day. No need to add more.
“Hey [Name],” he begins. “If I asked you to kiss me, would you do it?”
#manager!reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen#f1 x reader#f1 imagines#formula one#fanfic#angst#mv1#mv33 x reader#mv33
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i just read your 2021 colby tweets post…
“(it's so clear to me now that this man was clearly going thru so much. this is when things really changed for him and how he interacted with us. it's sad to look back on this now)”
im so curious… what happened? - aussie anon
i'm gonna give the briefest and quickest run downs, just bc as a fan that was on twitter around this time, i full on hated this time period in the fandom and literally contemplated leaving bc of how bad it got.
so between 2020-21, colby was getting called out for a lot of shit. some of it was warranted, but a lot of it wasn't. for example, he was getting called out for mouthing the n word in a video and musically. he addressed it and apologized. and obviously hasn't done it since.
he was also called out for not doing enough for stop asian hate, which according to fans was he needed to retweet the right links, bc him retweeting whatever post he did wasn't good enough.
but then it got into a different territory. he started getting called out for the following: not immediately talking about jan 6 as it was happening, wishing happy international women's day, getting called out for mimicking brennen's weird voice in a video which apparently sounded like he was mocking asian ppl?????, the queerbaiting shit (which to this day i die on the hill that ppl cannot queerbait you, and on top of that brennen and sam never had to apologize), not calling out his fans for apparently being transphobic (even tho how was he supposed to know that was happening). there's probably plenty more as well, but these were the highlights.
and then in 2021, if i'm not mistaken, he ended up getting a terrible death threat that was posted by some """"""fan"""""". it was a really disgusting, long ass dissertation basically calling him worthless in a 1000 different ways. once that happened, he really removed himself from twitter, literally taking like a week long break, and from that point forward did not come back on the platform the same. he kept his distance from us after that, and when his journal was stolen… he really parted from the fandom in a way. bc there were ppl in the replies of that tweet celebrating him losing it. and i think that tied with the two past years of bs, it was enough for him to separate himself from the fandom.
bc before, he would tweet a lot. balcony tweets had been a thing for over a year, and then once ppl started harassing him, he stepped back. and look, i'm not here to argue that he didn't deserve to get called out for the n word clips or stop asian hate stuff. yes - those made sense. bc it's not a call out, so much as "hey, you need to address this". but everything else that followed was just straight up mean and nasty.
i mean, for fuck's sake, one of the many fans that called him out and celebrated him losing his journal, i just found out, WAS HAPPY he got cancer. that's how far some of these ppl's hate for him ran. even to this day some ppl dislike him for dumb mistakes that he shouldn't have made.
and i know i can't accept his apologies. i'm not here to do that. i'm just here to say that it's one thing to hold someone accountable, but it's another thing entirely to wish someone the worst and be glad when it occurs. bc that's demented. he's made mistakes, sure. but none of them are bad enough to wish him misery. at least i don't think so.
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besties, i have some opinions about c & a (as a couple and as individuals) but im not gonna talk about it right now because theres a million different discourses, with so many points of view, about every little thing they did in the last few months in every single plataform - so theres nothing left to say at this point lol and at end of the day nobody can be sure of anything.... maybe they don't love each other and will break up soon, maybe they dont' love each other but will stay together for a long time because its convinent (look at carlos & isa 👀), maybe they do love each other and we will see a different side of their relationship at some point, maybe the do love each other but their relationship will aways seen a little strange and awkward for the public - who knows?
but i have something to say about what kym posted today. i think everyone is forgetting that this guy is a hell of an opportunist who loves to create controversy for some likes and views.
honestly I don't think she's trying to hide in those pictures. she's not dumb so she must know it would be kinda ridiculous since most people/his followers already know who she is and probably had seen photo that charlotte posted so they knew she was at silverstone.
she is clearly laughing in the pictures so i think it could be two things:
- she was joking/playing with him and these pictures were meant to be "funny".
-people has noticed that she tends to cover her face when she laughs and has a habit of running her hand over her face to brush her hair back several times (maybe this has to do with nervousness but let's not overanalyze that too) so I think the photo might have been taken in one of these moments.
but it is clear to me that he decided to use these specific photos to further increase the discussions about her wanting privacy or not (he was part of/benefiting from the discussions since the beginning) and get more attention. A lot of people is watching the video to see those photos, find out what he said about her, and leaving comments on his instagram asking about it etc.
I know you guys are gonna say "oh but she let the guy follow her private account and followed him back, she wants the attention too" and you are probably right, besties. but I doubt she is happy that kind of attention (which ends up putting her in a bad light).
oof, that was a long ass ask, sorry for that.
insert meme : my work here is done ( - but you didn't do anything) *shakes cloak out and leaves* 🦸♂️
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The fact that you addressed only the Anchor Baby part of the ask and nothing else (being wrong about “Jared” on the phone, wrong about Jake Abel, wrong about Misha, claiming some southern identity to hide the mayo) proves you know I’m right: that you’re full of it. And you did exactly what I said you would. Pretend to be intelligent, hurl insults that mean nothing, and deflect, deflect, deflect—talking about shit I didn’t even bring up. Meet and greets and TFW2P0 and other things you’re obsessed with and talk about at every turn just to distract from what I really said. And you can choose to publish my exact ask right now or not (while publishing others lmao). We both know.
no actually, you just sent 15 pages of nonsense and there's only so much garbage.
"WRONG ABOUT JARED ON THE PHONE". Bro. it was a shitpost that included "I wasn't sure it was him", and within about 30 minutes, was deleted. Because, unlike you, I'm not above or beyond reason, but I"m not sure how you're trying to connect "instagram prank misheard" as "PROVES YOU ARE AN UNRELIABLE LEAKER!!"
no dude i didn't declare nothing. i didnt say it meant shit. it was funny. Before you guys ran out of pocket doubling down how wrong I was, I deleted it, not because OMG IM ASHAMED, but because like you, I don't share misinformation at length. I'm also VERY FUCKING UNCLEAR WHAT PART OF YOUR MUTATED BRAIN FACULTIES CONNECTS THIS TO LEAK ACCURACY.
And? Yes, I already addressed Jake, at length, where you guys are dipshit lying pieces of shit that can't read the posts where I said... yeah, he was in austin too. Omg!!! {falls over dead, clutching chest} THE PAIN, THE PAIN OF IT ALL THAT {checks notes} He was in fact in austin like I said but never cared to check because nobody gives a shit about your shitty show? Like we're not mad. Dude we just don't care. what's not clicking. That's not a leak either. Walker doesn't have leakers because nobody gives a shit about Walker to leak it for or from.
THIS IS ALL YOU TRYING TO TELL YOURSELF THAT "FAN HAS REACTION TO FAN CONTENT PROVES FAN DOESNT HAVE ALL THE REAL PHYSICAL SOURCES THAT HAVE BEEN PRESENTED AND PROVEN TRUE TIME AND AGAIN WHILE WE SCREAMED AGAINST IT."
Maybe... just... MAYBE. YOU guys' malfunctioning cerebellums not understanding what is a *source*, what is a *shitpost*, what is *reality*, what is a *meme*, and other segregating factors is why you crashed out on that GIANT ASS LIST OF THINGS YOU DENIED AS I SAID THEM THAT CAME TRUE. Like, maybe if you stopped listening to fucking dumbfuck speculation and 2po's M&Gs he's been busted lying about and thinking they're sources:
you'd stop failing at spn
you'd stop confusing my shitposts with sourced leaks
What in the fuck kind of broken brained, jackshit insane logic is this. No really. I want you to look in the mirror and tell yourself you're okay, when you're literally screaming that I dared to delete an incorrect SHITPOST, and shows that I'm somehow an unreliable leaker. I want you. To go. Stare in the mirror. Look yourself in the eye. Say that. And then apply whatever self will is needed to not do self harm when you perceive how stupid your entire desperate spiral is right now while you deny blatant reality
What even are you trying to do? Is this your acceptance spiral that Destiel is happening and you're just trying to convince yourself I bullshitted all the details through the last 2 years? Is it you realizing all those times I said the crew sees this shit, and all your denials, that I might be right, but you can't accept that you've been clowning yourself while the main account openly retweets Destiel?
Cope. dumb motherfuckers think instagram stories count as leaks and sources, holy fuck, no wonder you guys can't hit the broad side of a barn.
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ok i had a full nights sleep. i am coherent. i am fixing to copy/paste the tweets here for your enjoyment. its a lot.
ok so parx twit had a “trend” on unpopular opinions about the band during the sneaking out of heaven tour (their most recent one) one person said this
“Had to be said. You forgot his over dependence on nyquil and sleep drugs that borderlines abuse, he claims he's straight edge though ✨”
she deleted and posted a noted app apology
“Hey friends, I'm writing this to you, not just as an apology for writing dumb shit on twitter with no thought behind it, but to also share that I do suffer from my own personal addiction to pain medication, and have been since I was 17. Addiction is a real thing, it's a problem and it should be talked about, but not at the expense of others and making baseless assumptions. We all know where false acusations can lead, and it's never a good time. I've been reflecting on my previous inflammatory tweet about Awsten and his use of Nyquil and I want to say that I am truly sorry for my, dumb, offensive and very thoughtless tweet. I didn't stop to think before I wrote something so dumb and hurtful and I'm sorry for that. I'm not perfect, l'm human and I make mistakes. I know I fucked up hard and I'm sorry to anyone that was offended by my words. I can delete a tweet, but I can't take away the fact that I wrote it, and that it's out there causing anger to people, so l'm acknowledging that, and owning my mistakes. I am also very greatful to the people that took the time to educate me on this, I always appreciate any guidance. Moving forward I want to do better, internet etiquette is hard to get right especially when you're in a fandom spanning multiple generations and culture's but l'm definately gonna try harder.”
awsten saw the tweets and now that tour has been over for a while he has responded.
“HEY AND BTW WHEREVER THAT ACORNBRAIN WALMARTMOUTH BREATHING TWITTER DULLED CLOWN IS AT THAT SAID I HAVE A DRUG PROBLEM BC I TAKE ZZZQUIL TO SLEEP IN A BUS ON A THIN ASS MATTRESS, I APPRECIATE UR CONCERN AND I HAVENT HAD ANY SINCE TOUR ENDED, YOU CURED ME OF MY ADDICTION”
“GET COOKED WORMBREATH DUMBASS !!! I HOPE YOURE LIKE 14 BECAUSE IF YOURE OPERATING LIKE THIS AT FULLY GROWN, I FEEL SO SAD FOR YOU HAHA PAINT DRINKER”
he quoted a tweet with this after that.
“THIS AND THEN SELF-RIGHTEOUS PEOPLE SMELLING BLOOD IN THE WATER SWOOP IN TO PAT THEMSELVES ON THE BACK AND ABSOLVE THEM LIKE A PRIEST SAYING "we weren't trying to cancel u we wanted to hold you accountable thank you" LMFAO0000000 I LAUGH EVERY TIME, ITS A FULL CIRCLE OF STUPID”
“it's either a notes app apology or an "i'm taking a break" and they go priv and come back in like two days” ^quoted tweet
he also tweeted a picture of a confessional with “you are… forgiven”
“DUMBEST HILLS HAVE EYES MUTANTS ON HERE WILL BE LIKE “uM personally i think he is so immature and Anyone should be allowed to say Anything and Everything at All Times with no repercussions” SIKE BITCH THIS IS THE REAL WORLD OPEN YOUR EYES”
the person who tweeted what hes talking about is between 32-34 and followed them for a majority of the us tour. they flew in from australia for it. somebody tweeted the photo of the tweet that caused him to say that cropped so the persons @ was cut out and his response to that was
“NO MORE CROPPING NAMES, I DONT GIVE A FUCK, WE SHAME IDIOTS, WE SHAPE THE FUTURE”
“WORLD PEACE
IM OUT”
her response to the paint drinker shit was
“loved waking up to you caling me an idiot, thanks Awsten. This fucked up my mental health something fierce and put me in a really bad place”
“Woke up and burst into tears, thanks Awsten”
and a “Awsten what the fuck”
hold on ill link a few of my favorite tweets from the situation because now what the fuck tweet is a whole fuckin joke.
https://x.com/lowkeyashan/status/1782178428982059407?s=46
https://x.com/aioevera7/status/1782185227428729005?s=46
https://x.com/tantrxmbee/status/1782170160209531077?s=46
-🦞
okay what i'm about to say might be a bad an unpopular take because i only have the context that you've given me in this ask so idk if this user used to be disliked before this, or used to be beloved or super popular or whatever else.
anyway i think awsten is... in the wrong here.
this is not to say that the user who tweeted about his alleged drug addiction is saintly and pure and innocent, that was a fucked up tweet to make regardless of if awsten would have seen and/or responded.
however... if i was a popular celeb with a wholeass fandom i would NEVER say these things publicly like sure i understand being mad that someone is talking to flippantly about drug use and speculating about your drug use online but then to go ahead and call them a bunch of names as well as essentially weaponise your fanbase in a way where they're now making memes about this person, making fun of them etc. i'm glad they're not 14 like he said but he didn't know if they were 14 or not, what if they were super young... what if someone who's barely a teenager had to deal with this not only from someone they adore but also from a whole fandom they considered their own??
anyway... yeah i hope tweetuser is fine and i'm glad there's no addiction here. ooofff that's a messy situation wow 😬
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Photo
alex again, this is my second bean dominic so please feel free to show him some love ! if you want to fill one of the connections shoot a dm my way or if you’re up for plotting something else i’m up for that as well !
The pain and the struggle followed me.
–– 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐒:
full name: dominic “dom” carter
nickname(s): dom, carter.
gender: cismale
age: thirty (30)
birthday: 14, july 1990
sexuality: heterosexual
nationality: african-american.
religion: none.
place of birth: charming, ca.
currently resides: charming, ca.
spoken languages: english.
native languages: english
relationship status: single.
–– 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄:
height: 6'0", 182.88 cm
weight: 69 kg or 152 pounds
figure/build: athletic
hair colour: black
eye colour: dark brown
tattoos: many.
piercings: none.
scars/distinguished marks: he’s gotten a few scars from past scuffles & from fights doing underground fighting.
preferred style of clothing: a lot of gym clothes such as basketball shorts, sweats, hoodies, tank tops, shirts, normal days not spent working out he’s in jeans and a simple t-shirt.
frequently worn jewelry/accessories: his fathers dog tags.
–– 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘:
father: eli carter. (deceased)
mother: henrietta carter. (deceased)
sister(s): one sister. (wc)
brother(s): none.
partner/spouse: n/a.
children: none.
other: n/a.
–– 𝐏𝐒𝐘𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:
personality: valorous, focused, observant, short-tempered, abrasive, withdrawn, stoic, hard-headed.
likes: wokring out, fighting and working on cars.
dislikes: cocky people mostly.
fears/phobias: loosing his sister for good.
favorite colour: anything in darker shades.
music taste: not picky about music but can’t stand sad shit.
–– 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐒:
current job title & description: mechanic by day & underground fighter by night.
peaceful or aggressive attitude?: peaceful for the most part but he has tendencies to be aggressive.
talents & hobbies: fighting, mechanical work on vehicles. he also make a good breakfast.
–– 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖:
trigger warning; mentions of child abuse.
dominic grew up with his uncle and sister when his parents died in a terrible accident. a fire had burned their home down when the kids were at school, resulting in their parents death and with no other family besides their uncle, they had no choice but to live with him. it hadn’t been ideal, being taken away from a home that was full of love and comfort to a home that was rough and cold. their uncle had a terrible temper and often took it out on them. but it was better than being separated, at least thats what he had told his sister. dominic had taken most of the beatings growing up and it wasn’t until high school when his uncle had calmed down. he still held a temper but didn’t beat dom. dom wasn’t a kid anymore and the man knew it.
dom didn’t have much of a plan after high school unlike his sister. he had gotten by but he didn’t like school in general so continuing wasn’t ideal for him. he had gotten mixed up into the wrong crowd and began selling marijuana to make income. it wasn’t until one of the guys who had recently joined the group brought up a job opportunity did dominic’s life really change.
he had found himself behind bars for a long time. the job had taken a wrong turn when it became clear that his two co-conspirators planned to rip him off and take his cut for themselves, he was overcome with rage and beat the crooks to a bloody pulp. dominic ended up getting caught and was convicted of aggravated assault and battery. he was sentenced to six years in prison. that year dom had lost his freedom and his sister.
she refused to visit him, ignored his calls, and never responded to his letters. it had hurt him big time. he had been stuck inside for three years before they let him go on good behavior. he had stuck to himself, avoiding any problems as hard as it was but he had managed.
so there he was, fresh out the cell and freedom had never felt so good. moving back to charming wasn’t a problem. dom had hoped that the news of what he had done had come and gone quickly over the years but it came to no surprise when people stopped to give him judging looks.
he was in for it but it wouldn’t scare him off. he’d move back to his uncles, the man being too old to be on his own and from the looks of it he had calmed. he took a job up at charmings only mechanic shop, having learned a few things about cars in prison. he enjoyed tinkering just as much as he enjoyed working out.
he joined the renegade gym and it occupied more of his time which he accepted with open arms. however it still didn’t take the edge off. he had heard a few of the gym goers talk about an underground rink and it peaked his interest. it wasn’t easy getting in but he had done so and once he got in, he was hooked on the thrill it brought him. with the the opportunity of joining the underground scene, he was introduced to samantha martinez. Somehow he had gotten pulled into the position of being her personal bodyguard but dominic didn’t mind. it was work he was willing to do.
–– 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒:
his sister: this is going to be a sent in wc so feel free to message me if you’re interested. i don’t want to elaborate more because i want to give more room for muse.
ex-(best)friends: this is one of the guys who dom hung out with before going to prison and he could have either been apart of the group who tried robbing the place or he could have been someone who wasn’t for it and stayed behind. either way dom would either not trust them fully or at all.
drinking buddy: someone doms warmed up to since his return. they’re not close enough but he enjoys the company.
opponent: someone dom doesn’t really get along with and can’t stand. they can have bad blood from the past or maybe it just happened. they haven’t fought in the match yet but i’m sure it’ll happen.
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