#Though critique is fine
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#i don't like being negative about things but i do want to say i am a little dissapointed in some aspects of wilmon's relationship in this se#mainly in communication & just wille's behaviour towards simon in general tbh. though he definitely has reasons - i just can't be happy wit#-h it. still love the show though#just some points where i'm a little let down#Like i said i am not a negative person! i still have good hopes for e6! PLUS i am so glad for what we got either way#and i can also imagine things differently myself lol i have no problem with that#*!also i feel like i need to rewatch some things before placing any final judgements#just i know some things didn't feel quite the same as before this season#once again this point lol:#Like i said i am not a negative person! i still have good hopes for s3! PLUS i am so glad for what we got either way.#yr s3 spoilers#i feel really obnoxious posting my chaotic ramblings in the main text so now we get this 💀#sayingthing#Yeah I am also subtly trying to show my dislike for people who just talk shit about everything here#I do not vibe with that#Though critique is fine#All bad bad horrible eughh is just not my taste#yr thoughts
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I really want to see a more fucked up version of Charlie in canon. Like, okay, I am a die-hard for sweet bubbly girls in media. But I always see how some people make Charlie actually, oh I dunno... demonic? And it's so refreshing for her type of character. I could honestly see her having low empathy (and we kinda see this with how she handled Angel's situation or even Vaggie's nervousness about taking control on an activity). An exploration of that trait (if it was intended) would be interesting to see for a protagonist, especially when her main goal is about helping others. I would love to see her actually have a level of difficulty in understanding others' feelings from the other residents, sinners, and even her father.
But give her a fucked up side. Not a "she gets more power when she's angey uwu", but a "oh, she's a little fucked in the head". It would give so much to her character that she just doesn't have.
@/murmurmurena (don't wanna bother them so slash there we go) has some fun ideas with Charlie. I highly encourage people to check their stuff out! So many fun dark ideas with her character while also still keeping to her canon personality pretty well! Personally, I think Charlie being a bit more naive to her own messed up traits would work best but her also being aware of these traits can make for some interesting character for her.
THIS FIC, "A Game Between You and I". RIGHT HERE WITH THE FIRST CHAPTER. A bit of spoil for the fic here: but I love how they handled Charlie’s absolute ignorance as to why the idea of Russian roulette is horrifying to Angel Dust. It doesn't feel like her being intentionally malicious or aware that she's the odd man out here. This is also a pretty old fic going by only the pilot, but the point still stands that it was such a fun take for her character!
Charlie is one of my favorite characters in the show in part of the POTENTIAL she could have as being the most bubbly sweetheart character while also being the most messed up character in the show. I can't say I have strong confidence with the show's writing and fully expect them to stick with Charlie being the "nice girl but oh no, don't get her angry or she gets scarwy". Which isn't bad for a character mind you, there's just so much more potential to Charlie outside of that trope, especially when you get into the theories of her either being a doll, Roo's biological daughter, or what have you. And for the MAIN CHARACTER of the show, it would be not only interesting but also bring the spotlight back to her.
There's really no question that the side characters steal the show, particularly all the male characters. If I'm honest, Charlie does not feel like she gets a lot of love from the show itself when she's supposed to be the main character. She feels far more flat compared to the rest of the characters (again, the male cast in this "female-lead" show has more depth than most of the female cast currently. I wouldn't be pointing this tidbit concerning the genders of characters if it weren't for the fact Viv defended Helluva's lack of development with their female cast by saying "Hazbin is a female-lead show and Helluva is a male-lead" and Hazbin ended up with it not feeling female lead (to me) and the male cast just completely stealing the show. I don't normally care about gender stuff, especially since I do personally lean interest towards male characters. But using one show as a defense for poor development of the female characters, and then that show not really holding up with no very interesting well-developed feeling female characters irritates me. It's just very clear that these shows don't seem to care much about the female cast :/)
If you like how Charlie is written that's totally fine. PERSONALLY, I just think they're missing so much opportunity with her character by just making her the standard female character type. I honestly don't have a lot of faith they'll actually do something with Charlie's character though. She's a pretty static character in S1 being the same from start to end. Not changing or learning anything to create any development. What does the end of season Charlie do that start of season Charlie wouldn't do? Fight back? Because we see with the pilot (which is the “first episode”) that Charlie does fight people if pushed like with Katie Killjoy and even Valentino. Static characters can work in media depending on the show or their role. But Charlie is the MC of a show about “bettering one's self”. So to have her as a static with not a lot of strong dilemmas for herself (like we see with Angel Husk Al and even Vox) seems silly. Plus, considering Hazbin is telling a whole story and it's not a fun episodic thing, characters are expected to grow on some level. Or else, what was the point of their hero's journey?
#I honestly have a lot of problems with Hazbin's storytelling#That the limited time of doing plot doesn't even help it and shouldn't be used to shield the show from criticisms#Especially when you can find the same issues in Helluva Boss that has no excuse with the writing (though it's getting a bit better)#I love this show but goodness gracious it makes me have a tangent about it#Charlie's unimpactful character writing just being one of MANY issues#Hopefully the crew take all the criticisms into account for S3#S2 if possible would be nice but they probably had it all scripted by the time S1 was airing.#No shame on the female cast either they're fine. But when you compare them to the given depth of characters like Angel Husk Alastor and Vox#They're pretty lackluster. Vaggie's probably the closest to a female character with a lot of layers we've seen in the show#And she wasn't done very well with being essentially just “Charlie's GF” with not much identity outside of that explored much#Some of this may be more personal takes but it's frustrating. Again I don't normally care about gender stuff in media#It was just the excuse to Millie and Loona lacking development that bothers me#Like Hazbin is supposed to make up Helluva's poor writing of their main female leads#Loona got a bit of love with the Bee ep and Verosika and Octavia are pretty good. Particularly V with her relationship with Blitz#Whenever I start talking about aspects of Hazbin's writing I always end up ranting a bit (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄#Celtrist#cel rambles#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel charlie#charlie morningstar#hazbin critique#hazbin criticism#hazbin critical#hazbin hotel critical#hazbin hotel criticism#hazbin hotel critique#hazbin hotel rant#You can really love something and still be critical with it#I do it out of love I swear#You're not in the Sonic fandom for like 22 yrs and don't learn to be critical of the media you enjoy lol
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How do you find the writing in veilguard? I won't be able to play it for a while but I'm curious how it holds up because I've heard it reads like a YA novel or that it tells instead of showing. (I'm definitely taking online reviews with a grain of salt.) Is it enjoyable writing, especially the dialogue?
Frankly, the dialogue is fine. It is nothing more "YA novel" than anything done in Inquisition that I can think of--though I do generally take umbrage with any criticism phrased like that simply for being entirely too unspecific to mean anything at all. It implies the dialogue is unsophisticated by invoking a genre that, in actuality, represents a wide variety of writing quality (just like any genre of anything ever). I've read YA novels darker and more sophisticated than some piles of adult books, just as much as vice-versa. It's a lazy critique that tells you nothing. Is all the dialogue utterly fantastic? I mean, probably not but I'm having too much honest fun to waste my time worrying about if something is kind of cliched. My biggest pros for the writing are that a) Rook has an actual personality, and b) I don't have to wade into an empty field for an hour just to hear my companions say one line of dialogue to each other (Inquisition, the game that you were, you gave me such low standards). Your mileage may vary on what you think is good writing or not personally but I think the dialogue is just fine--and, yeah. A grain of salt is good to have with critiques like that. If they can't give clear examples and break down what they mean by that in more depth, I tend to ignore critiques of that variety in favor of my own opinions, which I recommend you do for yourself as well.
#telling instead of showing...i don't even know where to begin with that because i have no idea what it's trying to reference#what are they telling instead of showing?? i feel like i've seen everything i've been told??#like these kinds of critiques are the kind of thing i feel like people whip out when what they really want to say is '*I* didn't like this'#which is fine! nobody is forced to like anything#but it is perhaps not meeting the material on fair ground#ultimately it's going to be up to personal opinion though#asks#greenestcoat#i'm also like. all of 9 hours into this VERY LARGE FEELING game. so take MY opinion with a grain of salt too
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white americans will be like oh british food is so unseasoned and underspiced and then talk as if taco bell is extremely flavourful. this is true I've seen it happen multiple times.
#red said#and yeah i have had American taco bell. it was fine. not exactly heavily seasoned though is it.#a cheeky nandos would fold these people in half like paper. they'd be those people who think medium is a test of will#it's just that when people talk shit about British food they seem not to have noticed#that our stereotypical national eating habits have for the last 50 years involved less jellied eels and more vindaloo#and now there's a lot to critique on that front too#such as the fact that your traditionally White British Dude approaches curry less as a tasty foodstuff and more as a masculinity challenge#so like. famously British Indian takeaways tend to flatten out flavours and focus on heat when catering to British tastes#idk what The Average Brit cooks at home bc it's obviously different family to family.#fryups are a solid reliable. roasts? but i feel like mostly pasta soup and pies? i mostly do curry bc it's cheap to make it taste good.
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I am on a mission to learn how to draw can you believe these are literally only 4 days apart I’m feeling so pussy pussy cunt cunt rn
#also I know it doesn’t look like Marcia I literally today learned how to draw facial proportions I can’t fuck around too much yet#also I liquified her she wrong so it’s a lil fucked up but#I’m v proud :)#didn’t even touch hair or body or anything but that’s fine I just want to learn to draw Marcia’s face right#that’s goal one#I will not rest until I get this down#I will become the expert in drawing Marcia’s face#also do you love that I can’t remember any makeup look except the red and white one#I’ve used it for like 6 drawings of her now#anyways it’s crazy what a single 10 minute video on how to properly proportion a face can do#also I don’t know what my style is yet bc I just started so obviously that factors into things#anyways!#artist advice is always welcome critique might (will) make me cry :)#encouragement is always… encouraged 😉#anyways I’m v happy with myself#even though I opened the canvas and lost track of time and blinked and it was 2 am#also can I just say it took me a few tries but I’m loving the lettering on her name :)#okay that’s it I’m going to brush my teeth and fall asleep#also I’m still trying to figure out all the secrets of procreatepls aid#marcia#marcia x3#marcia marcia marcia#drag race fanart#my art#also there’s only a one hour difference between how long it took to do these that’s so funny#wow#also in my defense!#I was trying out different styles so I was trying to copy a more cartoonish style#but still :)#also it looks so warm on my phone rn bc I have night mode on but the colors are so pretty on my iPad :) and presumably here once night mode
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the thing is i actually think you might find parts of the live action bay transformer movies interesting. that said they are an acquired taste.
‘tis the case with most late stage, mass-market-audience-chasing adaptations. enough interesting tidbits to torture you but packaged in at least a partial disaster
#ill probably watch them at some point i just legit had a hard time latching onto live action characters. those are Real Guys. i can’t be#obsessed with a Real Human it’s rude . silly little drawings are fine though#accidental superpower against parasociality. i watch a lot of live action films and critique them but those are Actors Playing Characters#and i will never get that out of my head when watching them. i can suspend my awareness better with animation . muppets fall in between
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the Ace Attorney subreddit really does suck, huh. i wanna see people talking about AA but every post i see on there is just people making 43854747 posts about how Dual Destinies was bad, how Spirit of Justice was bad, how the new trilogy is just bad, or how Nahyuta is the most boring prosecutor or the worst character ever and i'm tired of it already. but i also don't want to unsub yet KRKF
#psy's no punctuation posts#aa tag#aceattorneycirclejerk is fine though JKNBSD#my best friend showed me a post last night of people just like. honestly blatantly lying about Nahyuta's character to make him#seem worse. he's already a bad person you don't have to lie and say he ~triggered~ Athena intentionally during 6-4#like no the fuck he didn't he was just being a regular dick KRKF#but precious Edgeworth can tell a mentally ill woman he doesn't give a fuck if she kills herself ??#i'm not saying Nahyuta isn't a person who does fucked up things i'm just like be ACCURATE about what he does JMKBSD#like be so fr right now yknow#Nahyuta is a character worthy of critique in his execution but half the time when someone hates him i read what they have to say#and i'm like WHAT ARE YOU EVEN TALKING ABOUT lol#it's like how when people hate Flint Mother 3 they'll start trying to tell you that he physically or mentally abuses his kids. no he doesnt
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my irl writing critique group is very cool and insightful, although mostly made up of white men. they write great female protags and aren't particularly gross so far bc it's portland, where writers generally have the common sense not to be The Fucking Worst. however the vast majority of this group have expressed VISCERAL discomfort with graphic horror and violence against children / vulnerable people -- again, because they're a good normal group of dudes & a lot of them are either teachers or dads. but it also has me like. [kicking the princess luz fic behind me] haha omgg meeee...? nooo no i write horror but it'll be SOOOO easy to digest, i promise..... i'm Very Normal...
#cant decide if i'll choose an on-brand horror piece for my first crit or a boring fluff piece#i can wait to decide though. people just offer pieces to critique as they have em theres no set rotation so#it's fine. i'm already established as having the darkest fiction taste in there so theyll expect it
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(Last Anon) Definitely agree, I think I saw an old post that said Blossom seems to be the favourite/popular depending on which side of the fandom you’re in.
VSB seems to be the more casual/animation fans’ least favorite episode, they usually put it on the same level as the worst episodes from season 5/6 (the audacity! Lol) Blossom is usually ranked the least favorite, I guess it goes to show that they don’t understand her character at all or refused to accept her as anything but flawless. Also yeah, never understand why Town n Out is up there too, honestly it does felt like these people don’t understand the show they’re watching and claimed to love so much.
It actually never occurred to me that she’s a bad liar, since all 3 Girls are pure and good I thought its a trait they all share, but I guess Blossom would probably have a hard time with it than her sisters. I think she’d be smart in deflecting and not telling the whole truth but also not lying either technically.
I think I’m just dreading for all the weird tweets Craig’s going to receive when the reboot comes when those fans sees their favorite characters not act or act in a way that doesn’t fit their headcanons. Lots of super weird takes on twitter about “buttercup would hate this” or “bubbles wouldn’t do that” etc etc they only know the flanderized version of these characters, its almost like how the reboot2016 sees them…
Re: not understanding Blossom, I’ve known people who told me she’s their favorite character because she’s an unfeeling, uncaring killing machine who doesn’t let emotions get in her way (???) and others who’ve said they love Blossom for her docility and strong emotions and susceptibility to fall for evil (also ???). Legitimately bad takes about Blossom are weirdly common. I don’t get it! She’s so awesome but there’s so much rampant mischaracterization from fans with her (even the reboot basically just made her Lisa Simpson and added that unfortunate character I think all of us don’t want to talk about as an unnecessary love interest, sheesh…).
And yeah, Blossom’s definitely the most goody-goody of the three girls, and sometimes to a fault. I always think of her in Fallen Arches where she sticks soooo hard to what she strongly feels is morally correct to the point where a bunch of elderly people end up beating each other up and have to go to the hospital. And Bubbles and Buttercup are pissed after telling her how dumb of an idea it was the whole episode. 🤣 Or when she (initially) refused to use her ice breath power to save Townsville because she didn’t want to break the vow she’d made to never use it again while her sisters were frantically trying to tell her why it was okay to use when a freaking meteor was headed towards the town. Her sisters don’t normally have those same reservations she does despite also being good kids. I think all that stuff (plus the bad lying lol) all stems back to her pride and her desire to be the most perfect and goodest good-doer who ever did good. …and again, haha, I love that and it’s entertaining to watch when she struggles with stuff like that.
To be fair, if any of the more out there asks I’ve gotten over the years (especially the ones asking me to pass along stuff to Craig) have taught me, I think he’s already gotten enough weird messages about the PPG and seen enough wild takes to last a lifetime. 🤣 I mean, people were angrily messaging him about the 2016 reboot and that he needed to change it STAT. Someone will find something to complain directly to him about and I’m sure it will more or less be ignored.
#meanwhile I’ll just be here in my own little corner of the internet being a PPG fan hermit and critiquing/hopefully fangirling over things#all by myself lol#I never get people who decide to like DIRECTLY go to people to complain like that#you really think that’ll do anything?#‘‘oh no xx-friezaboner98-xx pmed me and said they hate Buttercup we have to scrap her team’’#‘‘let’s send the script he sent me to the animation team while we’re at it I trust him more than I trust my life’’#like idk I’m fine just talking about this stuff myself without any input from show people#whenever I complain it’s usually just for the sake of complaining so… yeah lol I know nothing can be done#it’s still not fun to read though I totally understand where you’re coming from
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i am SO fucking exhausted by mainstream media opinions lately and i don't understand why they're frequently SO different from my own? like i genuinely don't think i am approaching anything from that unique of a perspective as a viewer? maybe it's just that i'm too easy to please when it comes to stories or something but like. how is the mainstream, widely accepted consensus on yellowjackets season 2 is that it's "bad" and "doesn't work as a season" and is "riddled with problems." literally what the fuck are you talking about. this is the most fun i have had watching television uhhhhh literally Ever? you're telling me people hated Burial? how? why? like i don't...i just don't GET it. and i'm not playing dumb for kicks here im like genuinely honest to god confused. that was the single best episode of television I've ever watched in my life. like i get that people have different opinions about things and that's fine but HOW am i in the minority here what am i missing
#most of the critiques I've seen are that it 'focused on the adults too much' and was 'too weird' re: mistys sequence#like??? that was clearly supposed to be funny and campy and silly and artistic and a twin peaks homage?#and the 'focusing on the adults' i... i mean i guess some people are just here for the '96 mystery#and are completely uninterested in the psychological effects it had on all the characters?#i guess some people don't?? care??? about watching them wrestle with that trauma and go on to try to have lives#after something like that?#but like. that's the entire point of the show though. if you hate that why are you watching it every week#with enough investment to like. blog about it and put energy into writing whole ass thinkpieces#so much of media criticism these days boil down into 'i wish this show was Not the show that it is'#'i wish it was this other show that im writing with my twitter mutuals'#and like that's fine and fun and cool and valid and that's what fic is for! but a show isnt BAD for committing to itself and its own vision#like. there is something sooo sexy abt a piece of media that is so wholly itself that you have to meet it where it is#and judge it by its own metric#it creates a whole new unique lens for each and every thing you love! quit comparing apples and oranges!#it's SO fucking fun analyzing different pieces of media through the lens of their own little world and conventions#and guiding principles and plot pacing and what they choose to emphasize and their genre conventions and etc etc#it's FUN! and not to sound like a pretentious film bro dipshit but like why does it seem like this is a dying art these days#'s2 is boring' THEY. THEY ATE A PERSON. ARE WE WATCHING THE SAME THING
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ONE FINAL LEFT!!!!
#critique tmrw bluhhh. my final piece is kind of half-assed but like. i literally could not make it into the studio at ALL last month & my#grade is fine. so. shrug.#txt#so tired though... can't wait 2 b done n play p5 n talk 2 my phone friends!!!
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okay BUT. i finished the two paintings that have a time limit!
#for my baby cousins who live like two hours away so if i dont give it to them during the christmas meetup id have to mail it#why did i paint something for my baby cousins instead of buying them toys? their mom ASKED ME TO so there#ugh though i dont particularly like one of them.... it's a dog and ive never drawn a dog before LMFAO#kinda looks like shit. but hes like two what's he gonna do. critique it#the other one is super cute and im happy with it#two more paintings to go! 😓#like idk it's FINE i just dont love it#the dog one#literally was thinking to myself like. why didnt i dabble in being a furry when i was younger like EVERY other artist#then this shit wouldnt be so difficult. what the fuck is a snout#tried to start the one for my best friend but i got mad and squeezed a bunch of paint straight out the tube and smeared it all over the#canvas with my bare hands. and i paint in bed bc i dont have like. a workspace so i had to maneuver so awkwardly with my two paint#hands out from under my weighted blanket which was absolutely determined to trap me btw#to get to my designated Paint Rag which is a tshirt that begs regularly to be put down like an old dog#but im clinging on for dear life. it was once yellow#this is an absurd amount of tags. absurd. if you read this far i want you to know that my nails are growing out very nicely :)
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I finally got what a fandom was about and it only took me 6 minutes and I only had to use that part of my brain that likes thinking about stories
#''This shit is so weird this doesnt even exist in canon where did you get this lore?'' [Remembers my interest in myths and legends] ''OOHH''#WELL WHEN YOU LOOK AT IT THAT WAY I GUESS IT DOES MAKE SENSE DOESNT IT#This only applies to 1 fandom ive seen and it is probably not a good comparison but its interesting.#Its interesting its interesting. How people / fans want to and try to connect everything. Making their own MYTHOLOGY!!!#Even if its not consistent all across the board because people will interpret things differently!!! Thats fucked up!!! Thats interesting!!!#nillas#Got pissed off at the fanon lore stuff when i first looked through the tag but yea i get it now#If i see any other fandom thats not the same kind as the one im talking about here pull this shit though you knoww im gonna vague post#My only critique about the fandom now is just the lack of respect on these women's names but thats fine i guess [Clenching my fists]
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finished hellblade 2!!
#*hi hello this is sarah speaking#I have thoughts and feelings#however mainly I just want to say that the changes to combat... meh#I found the combat in the first game really satisfying#I'm not a fan of changes#I understand that people didn't like it as much so they put in the backseat#That's fine that's fair whatever#But it just felt like such a setback? And it was just all completely evading#I understand we're fighting actual people now so they know how to block but it's still just sucked#And also the fact that the voices don't help you anymore in fighting or in puzzles#like I understand everyone found them very annoying#I loved them yelling at me and not just critiquing me#I understand that that implies really weird shit ignore that part of it#I liked being told when to evade#I understand now that you only fight one enemy at a time so it doesn't matter as much but like#And also having the final “boss” be a fight??? questionable#The story though magnificent I understand that what they were going for is story based with minimal gameplay to just immerse you#they did amazing on that it was spectacular
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i know big joel (on his side channel little joel) privated the videos he made about the holy shit 2 cakes meme but he was right (it's mawkish and feels reality denying, and people don't actually react that way to poor quality/amateurish art)
#i do appreciate it when he's like 'this meme is fundamentally flawed' even though his hog viewers stink up the comments#memes are one on those things that when you attempt to critique them... they get REALLY outsized reactions but i like when he does#mostly because. a lot of memes are fucked up on the surface level or one layer of skin below the surface#and it's interesting that it says something but no one will engage with the thing it's saying because you're not supposed to think about it#also the thing about the holy shit 2 cakes thing is that honestly. it only applies to fanfic (free & full of consumption of similar tropes)#when people see a worse art of something they like next to a good art... BEST CASE SCENARIO they ignore it. worst case they are mean#it's fine if that works for you and became your philosophy but it never really clicked for me
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Critics and Lovers
Max Verstappen x journalist!Reader
Summary: how would the paddock react if they knew that the woman writing scathing critiques about the reigning world champion weekend after weekend was the same woman who whispers sweet nothings in his ear at night?
“Did you really go to school for half a decade to get your journalism degree just to ask if I think I’ll win?”
Max’s voice cuts through the bustle of the press room, drawing the attention of a few journalists milling around with their notebooks and recorders. He leans back in his chair, arms folded across his chest, his smirk more amused than annoyed. His blue eyes — always so intense under the brim of his cap — lock onto yours, daring you to respond.
You raise an eyebrow, fighting the urge to roll your eyes at him. “I’m asking the questions the people want answers to, Max. It’s my job, remember?”
“Your job is to provoke me, apparently,” he counters, leaning forward slightly, his smirk widening. “But you know, you could at least pretend to be creative. Ask something that might surprise me for once.”
“I wasn’t aware you had the capacity to be surprised,” you quip, your pen hovering over your notepad as if ready to jot down his response.
Max lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Touché. But if you’re expecting me to give you a soundbite for your next article, you’ll have to do better than that.”
The exchange draws a few chuckles from the nearby journalists, but they quickly refocus on their own tasks, used to the banter between the two of you. After all, it’s no secret that you’re Max Verstappen’s biggest critic.
Week after week, your articles dissect his performances with surgical precision, never shying away from pointing out his flaws, his temper, his moments of questionable judgment. To everyone else, you’re just doing your job, holding one of the sport’s biggest stars accountable. But to Max — well, he seems to take it in stride, brushing off your critiques with the same ease he shows on track.
What no one else knows, though, is that this verbal sparring is just another part of the complicated dance you and Max have been perfecting for years. A dance that begins in front of cameras and microphones, and ends in private, where the lines between your professional rivalry and personal relationship blur into something neither of you can fully define.
“Okay, fine,” you say, pretending to think hard about your next question. “How about this: what’s your plan for today? Any new strategies to surprise us with?”
Max raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “That’s almost worse than your first question. Did you really think that would get me talking?”
You sigh, exasperated. “Maybe if you gave me a straight answer for once, I wouldn’t have to keep asking.”
He leans in closer, lowering his voice just enough so only you can hear. “Maybe if you asked me something off the record, I’d actually consider it.”
“Off the record doesn’t sell papers, Max,” you reply, your tone equally low but tinged with something more affectionate, something that would be impossible to miss for anyone paying close attention.
Max’s smirk softens into something more sincere, his eyes flickering with the warmth that you’ve come to associate with the quiet moments you share away from the track, away from the scrutiny of the world.
It’s a look that says he knows you’re playing a role, just like he is. That despite the biting comments and the professional jabs, there’s a mutual understanding between you. A connection that runs deeper than anything either of you would ever admit in public.
But here, in this crowded room filled with reporters who’d kill for the kind of scoop only you could provide, that connection has to stay hidden. Because if anyone ever found out the truth — if they knew that you, the woman who writes those scathing critiques of Max Verstappen, were the same woman who shares his bed at night — it would be the end of both your careers.
And so, the game continues, with both of you playing your parts to perfection.
“Next time, try asking me something interesting,” Max says, his voice returning to its usual volume as he straightens in his chair, signaling the end of your private moment. “Otherwise, I’ll start thinking you’re getting lazy.”
You give him a look that’s meant to be stern but can’t quite hide the smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Lazy? I think you’re confusing me with your performance last weekend.”
The jab earns you a mock glare from Max, but he doesn’t take the bait, instead giving a noncommittal shrug. “We’ll see who’s lazy when I’m on top of the podium later.”
“Confident as ever, I see,” you remark, jotting down a few notes that you know you’ll never actually use.
“Just stating facts,” he says, and for a moment, you can’t help but admire the way he carries himself, the ease with which he navigates this world of high stakes and even higher expectations. It’s one of the things that drew you to him in the first place, back when neither of you had any idea where this relationship was heading.
“Well, good luck out there,” you say, finally stepping back to let the next reporter have their turn. But as you move away, you catch the briefest flash of something in his eyes — something that tells you he’s not just thinking about the race ahead, but about the conversation you’ll have later, away from prying eyes.
As you find a spot at the back of the room, your phone buzzes in your pocket. A quick glance tells you it’s a message from Max, sent under the guise of a work-related email, as usual.
You know I’m going to make you pay for that lazy comment later, right?
You bite back a smile, typing out a quick response.
Promises, promises.
The rest of the press conference goes by in a blur of questions and answers, none of which capture your attention the way Max does. You’re barely listening when the moderator finally wraps things up, and the drivers start to file out.
But before Max can make his exit, he pauses just long enough to catch your eye, giving you a look that’s all too familiar. It’s the same look he gave you the first time you met, back when he was just another driver on the grid and you were the new journalist determined to make a name for yourself. A look that says he’s already planning what he’s going to say to you later, when the cameras are off and the real conversations can begin.
You follow the crowd out of the room, blending in with the other journalists as you make your way toward the paddock. But your thoughts are already drifting to the end of the day, to the moment when you’ll finally be alone with Max, free to drop the pretense and just be yourselves.
Because despite the roles you play in public — the critical journalist and the cocky driver — in private, you’re something else entirely. Something that neither of you can fully explain, but neither of you wants to give up.
“Heading back to the media center?” One of your colleagues asks as you step outside, the midday sun beating down on the paddock.
“Yeah, I’ve got a deadline to meet,” you reply, forcing your mind back to the task at hand. But even as you say it, you know that your thoughts will be elsewhere for the rest of the day. On Max, and the secret you both share. A secret that, for now, is safe.
But how long can it stay that way?
The question lingers in your mind as you head back to your desk, the usual chatter of the paddock fading into the background. You’ve always known that this arrangement couldn’t last forever, that eventually, something would give.
The world of Formula 1 is too small, too tightly knit, for secrets like this to stay buried forever. And when the truth finally comes out — because it’s not a matter of if, but when — you know that everything will change.
But for now, you push those thoughts aside, focusing on the article you need to write. It’s what you’re good at, after all — crafting narratives, shaping stories. And today, the story is about Max, the driver who never fails to surprise you, both on and off the track.
The press room is quieter now, most of the other journalists having moved on to other tasks. You sit down at your laptop, the screen reflecting your determined expression. The cursor blinks at you, waiting. And as you begin to type, the words flow easily, the story taking shape with each keystroke.
It’s a story the world has seen before — another race, another analysis of Max Verstappen’s performance. But underneath it all, there’s a subtext that only you can see, a hidden layer that tells the real story. The one that will never make it to print.
The one that belongs to just you and Max.
Hours pass in a blur, your fingers flying over the keyboard as you lose yourself in the work. It’s almost too easy to write about Max, to analyze his every move, his every decision. You know him better than anyone, after all — better than any other journalist in this room, better than most of the people in his life. It’s a knowledge that comes with a price, though, a price you’re all too aware of.
But as the final paragraph falls into place, you sit back, satisfied. The article is done, the narrative complete. And with it, the day’s work is finally over. You stretch, glancing around the empty press room, and for a moment, you allow yourself to relax. To let go of the role you’ve been playing all day, and just be yourself.
Your phone buzzes again, pulling you back to reality. Another message from Max.
Meet me in the usual place?
You don’t hesitate before typing out a reply.
On my way.
The media center is almost deserted as you make your way out, the soft hum of electronics the only sound filling the room. You slip your laptop into your bag and sling it over your shoulder, feeling the weight of the day lift slightly as you step into the paddock. The evening air is cooler now, a welcome relief after the day’s heat, and the sky is streaked with shades of orange and pink as the sun dips below the horizon.
You walk with purpose, navigating the familiar maze of trailers and motorhomes, heading toward the secluded spot where you and Max often meet. It’s tucked away from the main pathways, a place where no one would think to look for you, and that’s exactly why it works. You reach the spot and pause, taking a deep breath before stepping around the corner.
Max is already there, leaning against the side of a trailer, his cap pulled low over his eyes, hands shoved in his pockets. He looks up as you approach, a slow smile spreading across his face.
“Took you long enough,” he says, his tone teasing.
“Had to finish that article you’re so eager to read,” you reply, stopping a few feet away from him, just outside the reach of his hands.
“Oh, I’m sure it’s a glowing review of my abilities,” he says, pushing off the trailer and closing the distance between you in two strides. He reaches for your hand, pulling you closer, and you don’t resist. Here, in this quiet corner of the paddock, the walls come down, and the roles you play for the cameras melt away.
“Glowing might be a stretch,” you say, allowing yourself a small smile as his hand lingers on your waist. “But it’s fair.”
“Fair is good,” he murmurs, leaning in so his forehead rests against yours. “But if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re going easy on me.”
“Maybe I am,” you admit, your voice softening. “Or maybe I just think you deserve a break every now and then.”
“From the criticism? Or from you?” He asks, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Both,” you say, giving him a playful shove, but he doesn’t budge, his grip on you firm yet gentle.
“You know I’d never take a break from you,” he says, his voice low, serious now. His thumb strokes your side, sending a shiver up your spine.
You close your eyes for a moment, letting the sensation wash over you. It’s these moments you treasure the most, the ones where it’s just the two of you, no expectations, no pressure. Just Max and you, stripped down to the simplest version of yourselves.
“I know,” you whisper, opening your eyes to meet his gaze. “I’d never let you.”
His smile turns tender, and he cups your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. “Good,” he says simply, before closing the small gap between you and pressing his lips to yours.
The kiss is soft, unhurried, a stark contrast to the fast-paced world you both live in. It’s a reminder of what you have, what you’ve built together despite the odds. And as you kiss him back, you feel a warmth spread through you, one that has nothing to do with the lingering heat of the day.
When he finally pulls back, his forehead resting against yours again, he lets out a small sigh, as if he’s been holding his breath all day and can finally relax. “I hate this,” he admits quietly.
“Hate what?” You ask, your fingers playing with the edge of his shirt, needing the physical connection to anchor you.
“Hiding,” he says, the word heavy with the weight of months, years of secrecy. “I hate that we have to keep doing this, sneaking around like we’re doing something wrong.”
You feel a pang in your chest, because you hate it too. Hate the way you have to pretend to be something you’re not in front of everyone else. Hate the way you have to watch your words, your actions, every time you’re in the same room as him. But more than that, you hate the idea of what would happen if the truth came out. The scrutiny, the backlash, the way it would change everything.
“I know,” you say softly, your fingers stilling on his shirt. “But it’s the only way right now. We both knew that going into this.”
“I know we did,” he replies, his voice tinged with frustration. “But it doesn’t make it any easier.”
“No,” you agree, resting your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. “It doesn’t.”
He wraps his arms around you, holding you close, and for a while, neither of you says anything. The silence is comforting, a shared understanding that words can’t always convey. It’s moments like these that make the rest of it bearable — the stolen kisses, the secret glances, the knowledge that, no matter what happens, you’ll always have each other.
Eventually, Max pulls back just enough to look at you, his expression softer now, the frustration replaced with something gentler, more resigned. “I just wish it could be different,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Me too,” you admit, your heart aching with the truth of it. “But we’ll get through this, Max. We always do.”
He nods, though you can see the doubt lingering in his eyes. “Yeah, we will,” he says, as if trying to convince himself as much as you. “And when we do, we’ll figure it out. Together.”
“Together,” you echo, holding onto the word like a lifeline.
He leans in to kiss you again, and this time, it’s slower, more deliberate, as if he’s trying to memorize every detail, every sensation. And you let him, because you’re doing the same, savoring the feel of him, the taste of him, the way his hand cradles the back of your head like you’re something precious.
When you finally break apart, both of you are breathless, and the world feels a little less heavy, a little less overwhelming. Max rests his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, his breath warm against your skin.
“I love you,” he says, the words so simple, yet so profound in the way they ground you, remind you of what’s important.
“I love you too,” you reply, your voice steady, certain.
He smiles then, that slow, genuine smile that’s just for you, the one that makes your heart skip a beat every time. And in that moment, everything else fades away — the doubts, the fears, the uncertainty of what the future holds. Because right now, in this quiet corner of the paddock, it’s just the two of you, and that’s enough.
For now, it’s enough.
“Come on,” Max says after a moment, his hand finding yours and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Let’s get out of here before someone comes looking for us.”
You nod, and together, you slip out of the shadows, making your way back through the maze of trailers and motorhomes, hand in hand. The paddock is quieter now, most of the crew having called it a day, and the sky is a deep, dusky blue as night settles in.
As you walk, you can’t help but glance at Max, the way his profile is lit by the dim lights of the paddock, the way his grip on your hand never wavers. It’s moments like these that make it all worth it — the sacrifices, the secrecy, the constant balancing act between your public and private lives.
Because at the end of the day, it’s not the criticism or the articles or even the races that matter. It’s this — being with him, knowing that no matter what, you’ll always have each other.
And as you slip out of the paddock together, unnoticed by anyone, you hold onto that thought, letting it carry you through the darkness, through the uncertainty of what tomorrow might bring.
Because for now, it’s enough.
And that’s all you need.
***
The Hidden Truth: Why I Kept My Marriage a Secret
By: Y/N Y/L/N
For as long as I’ve been a journalist, I’ve prided myself on one thing: honesty. I’ve built a career on asking the tough questions, on digging for the truth even when it’s uncomfortable, and on holding the powerful accountable. That’s why, as I sit down to write this, I find myself in an unfamiliar position — one where I’m the subject of my own scrutiny.
Over the past few years, I’ve become known as Max Verstappen’s biggest critic. I’ve questioned his decisions on track, his attitude off it, and his approach to the sport we both love. I’ve written article after article dissecting his every move, never once pulling my punches. And, in doing so, I’ve created a persona that many have come to recognize — a journalist who isn’t afraid to speak her mind, no matter who she’s writing about.
But there’s something I’ve kept hidden. Something I’ve chosen not to share, not because I’m ashamed of it, but because it’s deeply personal. And now, it’s time to tell the truth.
Max Verstappen is my husband.
Yes, you read that correctly. The man I’ve spent years publicly scrutinizing is the same man I wake up next to every morning, the same man who knows me better than anyone else in this world. We’ve been married for two years, together for even longer, and our relationship is something I hold incredibly dear.
I can already hear the questions — how could I, a journalist dedicated to transparency, keep such a monumental secret? How could I write so critically about the man I love, knowing the impact my words would have? The answers are complex, but I’ll do my best to explain.
When Max and I first started dating, it was easy to keep our relationship private. We were just two people trying to navigate the chaotic world of Formula 1, and neither of us wanted the added pressure of public scrutiny. But as our relationship grew more serious, we both knew that revealing it would come with consequences — not just for us, but for our careers, our reputations, and our personal lives.
So we made a choice. We decided that our relationship was something we wanted to protect, something we wanted to keep just for ourselves. And yes, that meant keeping it a secret from the public, from our colleagues, even from some of our closest friends.
But the secrecy wasn’t about hiding. It was about creating a space where we could be ourselves, away from the cameras, the interviews, the constant analysis of every move we made. It was about having something that was ours and ours alone, in a world where so much is shared, dissected, and often distorted.
Now, as for the criticism — many of you will likely wonder how I could write so harshly about the man I love. The truth is, when I put on my journalist hat, I’m not Max Verstappen’s wife. I’m not Y/N, the woman who loves him. I’m Y/N Y/L/N, the journalist who has a job to do. And that job is to report on the sport objectively, to ask the tough questions, and to hold everyone — including my husband — accountable.
Max knew this from the beginning, and he respected it. In fact, he encouraged it. He didn’t want me to go easy on him just because of our relationship. He wanted me to be true to myself and to my profession, even if that meant writing things that were difficult for both of us. And yes, there were times when it was hard — when I wrote something that hurt him, when we had to have difficult conversations about where to draw the line between my role as a journalist and my role as his partner.
But through it all, we’ve managed to keep our relationship strong, because we both understand that what happens on the track, what’s written in the press, isn’t the full story. The full story is what happens behind closed doors, away from the public eye, in the quiet moments we share when it’s just the two of us.
And now, the secret’s out. I know this revelation will come as a shock to many, and I’m prepared for the questions, the speculation, and yes, the criticism that will inevitably follow. But I want to make one thing clear — I’m not sorry.
I’m not sorry for keeping our relationship private. I’m not sorry for protecting something that means the world to me. And I’m not sorry for continuing to do my job with integrity, even when it meant writing things that were difficult for both of us.
This is our truth. It’s messy, it’s complicated, but it’s ours. And now, it’s out there for the world to see. I’m not asking for understanding or approval, because I know this will be a difficult pill for some to swallow. But I am asking for respect — for my choices, for our relationship, and for the fact that, at the end of the day, we’re just two people who fell in love in a world that’s anything but ordinary.
Max and I are still the same people we were before you knew about us. He’s still the incredible driver you’ve come to admire, and I’m still the journalist who will continue to ask the tough questions, no matter who’s on the other side of them.
The only difference now is that you know the full story.
And I’m okay with that.
***
The Other Side: Why We Chose to Keep Our Love Private
By: Max Verstappen
I’ve never been one to shy away from a challenge, whether on the track or off. Racing is in my blood — it’s what I’ve known and loved my entire life. But writing? That’s a whole different race, one where I’m definitely out of my comfort zone. So, when Y/N suggested I write this article, I wasn’t sure if it was such a great idea. But she convinced me — like she always does — so here I am, trying to find the words to explain what’s been one of the most significant parts of my life, one that I’ve kept hidden from the world until now.
As you’ve probably read by now, Y/N Y/L/N, the journalist who has been my harshest critic, is also my wife. Let that sink in for a moment — I know it took me a while to get used to the idea too. Not the fact that she’s my wife, but that the world now knows something we’ve kept private for so long.
When Y/N and I started dating, we had no idea where it would lead. We were just two people who happened to find something special in each other, despite the chaos of our worlds. But as our relationship deepened, so did the challenges. How do you navigate a relationship when one of you is in the spotlight 24/7, and the other’s job is to shine that light as brightly as possible, even when it’s uncomfortable?
We quickly realized that what we had was too important to let the world dictate how we lived it. So, we made a choice — a choice to keep our relationship private, not because we were ashamed, but because we wanted something for ourselves, something that wasn’t up for public debate or scrutiny.
People will ask why we did it, why we went to such lengths to keep it a secret, and the answer is simple: because we had to. Being a Formula 1 driver means living your life under a microscope. Every move you make, every word you say, is analyzed, criticized, and often misunderstood. It’s a pressure cooker, and adding a public relationship into that mix was something we weren’t willing to do.
It wasn’t an easy decision. There were times when I wanted to scream from the rooftops about how much I love this woman, how much she means to me, and how proud I am of her. But I knew that doing so would open us up to a level of scrutiny neither of us wanted or needed. And so, we kept it quiet, we kept it private, and we built something strong and real away from the cameras.
That’s not to say it was without its challenges. Y/N’s articles about me — some of which were less than flattering — were hard to swallow at times. But I respected her too much to ask her to change the way she does her job. She’s a journalist, and a damn good one at that. She has a responsibility to her readers, to the sport, and to herself to be honest, even if that honesty stings.
Did it hurt when she wrote something critical about me? Of course, it did. But I also understood that what she wrote came from a place of integrity, not malice. It was her job to ask the tough questions, to hold me accountable, and to do so without bias. And I loved her even more for it.
You might wonder how we managed to keep our relationship strong despite the secrecy and the criticism. The truth is, we did it by being honest with each other in ways we couldn’t be with anyone else. We talked — about everything. About the articles, about the pressures we were both under, about our fears and our hopes for the future. We made sure that, no matter what happened on the track or in the press, we were solid in our relationship. And we were.
But now that the secret’s out, I know things will change. People will have opinions, and they’ll want to know every detail of how we made this work. They’ll want to dissect our relationship just like they dissect my races. And that’s fine — we knew this day would come eventually.
What I want people to understand, though, is that our decision to keep our relationship private wasn’t about deception. It was about protection. We wanted to protect what we had, to give ourselves the space to grow as a couple without the pressures of the outside world bearing down on us.
I’ve always been a private person, and that’s not going to change just because the truth is out. But I’m also incredibly proud of what Y/N and I have built together. She’s my toughest critic, yes, but she’s also my biggest supporter, my partner, and the person I trust more than anyone else in this world.
So, why write this now? Because I want to set the record straight. I want people to understand that our relationship is real, that it’s built on love, respect, and a shared understanding of what it means to live in this crazy world of Formula 1. We didn’t hide it because we were ashamed — we hid it because we wanted to protect it, to keep it safe from the chaos that surrounds us every day.
And now that the secret’s out, I’m not afraid of what’s to come. I know there will be challenges, but I also know that we’ll face them together, just like we’ve faced everything else.
This is our story. It’s not perfect, and it’s far from simple, but it’s ours. And now, the world knows it too.
***
The sun hangs low over the paddock as you walk beside Max, your hand nestled comfortably in his. The usually bustling environment feels different today, like the air has thickened with anticipation. You can feel the eyes on you — hundreds of them, some curious, some incredulous, all hungry for the next piece of the puzzle that is you and Max Verstappen.
You’ve written about this very paddock more times than you can count. You’ve captured its energy, its chaos, its unpredictability. But today, for the first time, you’re the story.
Max squeezes your hand, a silent reassurance, and you glance up at him. He’s calm, or at least he appears to be. You know him well enough to see the subtle signs of tension — the set of his jaw, the way his eyes scan the crowd with a little more intensity than usual. He’s ready for whatever comes next. So are you, or at least that’s what you tell yourself.
“Ready?” He asks, his voice low, meant only for you.
“As I’ll ever be,” you reply, managing a small smile.
The first few steps into the paddock are deceptively quiet, almost serene. But then, as if someone has flipped a switch, the cameras flash, the microphones extend, and the questions start flying at you from every direction.
“Max! Is it true you’ve been married for two years?”
“Y/N, why did you keep it a secret?”
“How does this change your dynamic on the grid?”
“Will you be writing about Max differently now?”
You and Max exchange a glance, a wordless conversation in the middle of the media frenzy. His hand tightens around yours, a steady anchor in the chaos. You can feel the eyes of your colleagues, the other journalists who are now looking at you not as one of them but as a subject. It’s a disorienting feeling, like the world has suddenly shifted and you’re standing in a place you no longer recognize.
Max leans in close, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “Welcome to my world.”
You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up, a sound that cuts through the tension like a knife. It’s absurd, this whole situation. You’ve spent years writing about him, criticizing him, analyzing his every move, and now you’re on the other side of that scrutiny.
You straighten your shoulders, drawing on every ounce of professionalism you have. This is what you signed up for. You’ve spent years dissecting the lives of others, and now it’s your turn to be under the microscope. It’s only fair.
But Max isn’t letting you go it alone. He steps forward, his presence commanding as he addresses the swarm of reporters. “We’ll take questions, but let’s keep it civil,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument.
The first question comes from a reporter you recognize, someone you’ve shared more than a few press rooms with. “Max, how does it feel to have your relationship with Y/N out in the open?”
Max glances at you, a small smile tugging at his lips. “It feels good. We’ve wanted to keep this part of our lives private, but now that it’s out, we’re ready to move forward.”
Another reporter jumps in, this one more aggressive. “Y/N, how do you expect to remain unbiased in your reporting now that everyone knows you’re married to Max?”
You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to stay calm. “I’ve always strived for objectivity in my work, and that won’t change. My relationship with Max is separate from my role as a journalist. I’ll continue to ask the tough questions, just as I always have.”
It’s a carefully crafted answer, one you rehearsed in your head a dozen times before stepping into the paddock. But you can see the skepticism in their eyes, the doubt that you can truly keep your professional and personal lives separate. It stings, but you knew it was coming.
Max’s voice cuts through the murmurs. “Y/N has always been one of the best in the business, and that’s not going to change just because we’re married. If anything, she’ll probably be even harder on me now.”
There’s a ripple of laughter, a brief moment of levity in the tension-filled space. But it’s short-lived. The questions keep coming, each one sharper than the last.
“Max, do you think your performance on the track will be affected now that your marriage is public?”
“Y/N, do you regret keeping this a secret for so long?”
“What about the other drivers? How do they feel about this?”
You’re starting to feel the weight of it all, the relentless pressure of the cameras, the voices, the questions that seem to dig deeper and deeper. But Max is by your side, unwavering, and that gives you strength.
“I don’t regret anything,” you say firmly, your voice cutting through the noise. “Max and I made the decision to keep our relationship private because it was what was best for us. We wanted to protect something that mattered to us, and I don’t think anyone can fault us for that.”
Max nods, his hand still wrapped around yours. “We knew this would come with challenges, but we’re ready to face them together.”
There’s a moment of silence, a pause as the reporters digest your words. But you know this isn’t the end of it. The scrutiny, the questions, they’re not going to stop anytime soon. You’ve become the story, and that’s something you’ll have to live with.
But as you stand there, side by side with Max, you realize that you’re okay with it. You’ve spent years writing about other people’s lives, their triumphs and failures, their relationships and rivalries. Now, it’s your turn to be in the spotlight, and you’re ready for it.
“Max, Y/N,” a voice calls out, one of the more seasoned journalists you’ve always respected. “What’s next for you two? How do you plan to navigate this new chapter?”
Max looks at you, his eyes softening. “We’re going to keep doing what we’ve always done. I’ll keep racing, Y/N will keep writing, and we’ll keep supporting each other every step of the way. This is just another challenge, and we’re more than ready to face it.”
You nod, feeling a surge of confidence. “We’re not going to let this change who we are or what we do. We’ve always been a team, and that’s not going to change now.”
There’s a finality to your words, a sense that you’ve said all there is to say. The reporters sense it too, the questions starting to taper off as they realize they’re not going to get anything more out of you today.
Max squeezes your hand one last time before turning to the crowd. “Thanks, everyone. We’ll see you in the media pen.”
With that, he starts to lead you away, but not before you catch the eyes of a few of your colleagues. There’s a mix of emotions there — some understanding, some curiosity, and yes, some judgment. But you don’t let it get to you. You’ve spent your career building a reputation, and one revelation isn’t going to tear that down.
As you walk away from the crowd, Max’s arm slips around your waist, pulling you close. “Not so bad, huh?” He murmurs.
You laugh softly, leaning into him. “Speak for yourself. I think I’ll stick to writing the articles, not being the subject of them.”
Max chuckles, his breath warm against your temple. “Now you know why I’m not a fan of the media. Present company excluded, of course.”
“Of course,” you echo, smiling up at him.
The paddock is still buzzing with energy, the usual pre-race preparations in full swing. But you and Max walk through it with a new sense of purpose, a newfound clarity. The secret is out, and while it comes with challenges, it also comes with freedom — a freedom to be yourselves, to love each other openly, without the burden of secrecy.
You know the road ahead won’t be easy. There will be more questions, more scrutiny, more judgment. But as long as you have Max by your side, you know you can handle whatever comes your way.
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