#tw kelly piquet mention

[scrollonso]

Untitled 6 — Aleix/Max

Max fumbled with his keys, the alcohol still buzzing in his system as he swayed on his feet, trying to shove the key into the lock. The night had been a blur of music and laughter, the kind of fun that felt carefree in the moment but left him feeling hollow afterward. When he finally managed to get the door open, he pushed it wide, stumbling into the apartment with a heavy sigh. His laughter from earlier, loud and wild, had faded into a quiet that now felt too heavy. He blinked at the dim light that greeted him, eyes struggling to adjust as the world tilted around him.

Aleix was sitting on the couch, waiting for him. Max hadn’t expected to see him still up, but there he was, his face softening with concern the moment Max walked in. He didn’t say anything right away, just stood up and came over to Max, his hands steady as he reached out to catch Max before he tripped over his own feet.

“You’re back late,” Aleix said gently, wrapping a firm arm around Max’s waist, guiding him toward the couch before he could collapse right there in the doorway. Max could feel the strength in Aleix’s touch, solid and grounding. The twins weren’t here tonight — Aleix had dropped them off at their mom’s earlier — so it was just the two of them in the quiet apartment. No distractions. No buffer. Just them.

“Did you have fun?” Aleix asked, helping Max sit down on the couch.

Max nodded, though the words caught in his throat, sticking like they didn’t belong. Fun. He had fun, didn’t he? The party had been great — friends, drinks, everything — but now, it all felt too much. The room spun, and with it, the ache in his chest deepened. His head fell back against the couch, eyes squeezed shut as he ran a hand through his hair, trying to steady himself. Everything felt wrong, too loud and too quiet at the same time.

Aleix sat next to him, watching closely. He knew that look on Max’s face all too well — the way his eyes clouded, his expression shifting from carefree to something darker, deeper. He reached out, fingers brushing lightly over Max’s arm, offering comfort, but Max flinched away, his body tensing under Aleix’s touch.

"You’re gonna leave me," Max mumbled suddenly, his voice thick with alcohol and the tears already threatening to spill. "Iedereen verlaat me zodra ze moe worden. Why wouldn’t you?"

Aleix froze for a moment, his brow furrowing as the words sank in. This wasn’t the first time Max had said something like this, but it never got easier to hear. He crouched down in front of Max, his hands resting firmly on Max’s knees, steadying him as if trying to keep him from falling apart. Despite being the same size, Max seemed small like this, his fear making him shrink in on himself.

"Sweetheart, look at me," Aleix said, his voice calm, gentle, the way it always was when Max spiraled like this. He hated seeing Max like this — so fragile, so scared — but he knew pushing too hard would only make it worse. "I’m not going anywhere."

Max shook his head, not wanting to hear it. "You will," he whispered, his voice trembling with raw emotion. "Maybe not tonight, but someday. You’ll wake up and realize I’m not enough, and you’ll go." His words slurred into Dutch as his emotions poured out. "Ik wil niet alleen zijn."

Aleix’s heart clenched painfully at the sight of Max unraveling in front of him, raw and vulnerable in a way that he rarely showed to anyone else. They’d been together for years, but Max’s fear of abandonment never seemed to fade. No matter how many times Aleix reassured him, no matter how many times he stayed, Max’s past still haunted him. Aleix reached up, gently wiping away the tears that had begun to spill down Max’s cheeks, his thumb brushing the soft skin tenderly.

"Max, listen to me," Aleix said quietly, his voice full of affection. "I’ve been with you this long because I love you. I’m not leaving, not now, not ever." He moved to sit beside Max, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him close. Max resisted at first, but eventually, the tension in his body gave way, and he let himself be held, burying his face in Aleix’s chest, his body trembling with the effort to keep himself together.

"I don’t wanna lose you," Max whispered, his voice muffled against Aleix’s shirt, the desperation clear in every syllable. "I don’ wanna be alone again."

Aleix’s arms tightened around Max, his fingers running through Max’s hair in a soothing motion. "You won’t," Aleix promised, his voice steady, unshakable. "You have me. Always."

Max clung to Aleix like a lifeline, his fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt as though letting go would make Aleix disappear. He wanted so badly to believe him, to trust that Aleix wouldn’t leave, wouldn’t turn into one more person who promised to stay and then walked away. But the fear lingered, gnawing at the back of his mind, whispering that it was only a matter of time.

Even now, with Aleix holding him, Max couldn’t fully shake the thought. Kelly had promised she wouldn’t leave too. So had others. But they all did. The ring on his finger — his wedding ring — felt heavy now, like it was too much, like it was a promise that could be broken at any moment. What if Aleix woke up one day and realized Max wasn’t enough? What if he got tired of Max’s insecurities, his fears, his constant need for reassurance?

But for now, wrapped in Aleix’s arms, Max tried to push those thoughts away. He focused on the steady beat of Aleix’s heart beneath his ear, the warmth of his body, the soft reassurances Aleix whispered into his hair. It wasn’t perfect — Max wasn’t magically healed — but for tonight, it was enough. Aleix was always enough.

Aleix held him close, whispering softly until Max’s breathing evened out, the weight of the night finally catching up with him. The fear wasn’t gone, but with Aleix there, it felt a little more bearable. And that was enough, at least for now.

[interlagosainz]

Hi! I saw your post about Kelly, I’m new to f1 could you explain what she did/said?

oh, don’t worry i got you. here some of the kelly piquet crimes:

(tw for mentions of racism and classism)

in brasil we have something called favela. favelas are highly populated urban residential area consisting of densely packed housing units of weak build quality and often associated with poverty. due to the history of racism and prejudice in my country, favelas’ population are most black people. black people in favelas are daily struggling to find jobs, to have access to health care, some favelas struggles to even receive drinkable water, and just general proper things to have a good life. they are also being killed by the police, and no matter how much we protest, how hard we fight, they are still being killed just for existing. because brasil is a very racist country even though most of its population is black because black people have always suffered and been explored to the point of poverty. kelly piquet shared an instagram stories with a video saying that EVERYONE that lives in favelas are CRIMINALS. this is a popular belief shared by the far right in brasil, it’s incredible racist and classicist (and is the same reasoning police use to kill innocent people)

the entire piquet family is proudly supporters of bolsonaro, if you don’t know who that is let me tell you that is a vile vile far right president we had in power from 2018-2022. he is a fascist who has openly declared a bunch of racist thing. while on power, bolsonaro turned a blind eye to the genocide of a native population here in brasil that happened where 500 yanomani were killed. nobody knew about it because he used his power to cover it up. we only got to know abt it once he was no longer president. bolsonaro encouraged the people to KILL black people. literally there’s videos of him laughing and saying that. (on top of other disgusting stuff that i won’t even mention because it’s to damn heavy) again, kelly posted a bunch of instagram stories defending that man.

she and her family are known in brasil for being extremely racist and bigoted. i don’t fuck with her and her dad at all and i wish more people knew and talked about it

[nobrakes]

Hi! Thank you for your explanation on the Kelly Piquet / Brazil situation. I was googling a little to find out who the ex-volleyball player was you mentioned - is it Ana Paula Henkel? I’ve been following international volleyball ever since I could walk and I never heard about this?! I want to hear more so I can find out what the volleyball community thinks about this!

Hi! I's okay, yeah, the situation over here is so dire and desperate that the context needed to fully understand where all this crazy misinformation bullshit is coming from is rather vast.

On the volleyball player, yes, it is indeeed Ana Paula Henkel, she has become a far-right commentator on a propaganda channel for the fascist right-wing.

She's recently taken the electoral courts blocking some of the blatant misinformation her and her colleagues keep putting on air to heart, and started performing stunts such as reading a cake recipe on air to protest being "censured".

This is especially insulting because, doing things like that (aka reading cake recipes on air) was the kind of thing reporters used to do during the military dictatorship (which lasted from 1964 through 1985) to protest the lack of freedom of expression after the crackdown from the autoritative regime on which activists, journalists and anyone who disagreed with the official position from the military would often go "missing" or have to go underground for fear of getting arrested and tortured to death.

I have a great uncle who was arrested and tortured during the military dictatorship from allegedly being "involved with communists".

This all, of course, coming from people in the right who still, till this day, deny that any such things happened during the regime, they say the deaths didn't happen, that there was no torture, and that Brazil was a better place during those years, when we know, for a FACT that all of these things DID happened, thousands of people were tortured and killed by the military, all of this happening with the support of the United States who also contribuited to the militay dictatorships around latin america as a whole during 60-90s.

In fact to give you further context: Bolsonaro himself was in the military during this time, and talks about how they should've killed more people back then.

[russilton]

*pokes head through a concrete wall* is someone talking about the exhibitionism fic??? you keep writing about fic ideas i like, it's as if you have a crush on me or something 🤨

in honor of you posting that snippet and reposting that roscoe & george fanart….please share the longer part of the roscoe & max friendship that begins to brew….PLEASE MAX GOT DRUNK AND LANDED ON LEWIS HAMILTON'S DOORSTEP FILLED WITH ANGST AND PAIN he needs to pet roscoe and feel something again we all do 😔 (this is just me loving roscoe and wanting roscoe content really) // @thatsmemate

Sorry folks I have to give my gf what she wants, so there is Max POV Gewis below the cut. There’s also Roscoe, take that as an apology

Half joking and half serious TW’s for mentions of alcoholism, the silverstone incident, and Kelly piquet

“I forgive you”

It hits Max like a physical blow, his whole body reacting to the words, nearly rocking backwards with the force.

“Lewis, I’m sorry, you don’t have to, I don’t deserve-“ he tries to interject, but Lewis cuts him off quickly.

“It's not up to you to decide, Max.” That makes him shut up, mouth snapping shut painfully, but it seems to satisfy the older man, so he continues

“It’s not absolution, Max. You have a lot to learn, and a lot more to apologise for. But it sounds like you hit a turning point last night. While I’m under no obligation to be your teacher, I want to be. As long as you mean it; you want to do better; then I forgive you.” Lewis sounds more serious than max has ever seen him, and it leaves the younger man nodding frantically. He wants to do better.

“I don’t like who I was. I don’t want to be him anymore.” He tries to speak, but Lewis shakes his head again.

“You are him. We don’t become new people when we learn, Max. That’s what makes learning so important. You’re growing. Who you were reminds you what direction to keep going.” He levels Max with a look, careful and assessing, before picking his mug back up with a nod.

“We can talk more about it later. Drink your coffee. We all had a late night”

“Sor-“

“None of that. I’m glad you came to us”

“Us?”

“Forget me already?” That comes from George, who has now reappeared, a large glass of water in one hand, and a damp washcloth in the other. He’s apparently content that the pair of them have stepped away from more serious topics, because he flings the wash cloth at Max’s face, grinning when Max just about catches it with a squawk.

“Wipe your face down with that, you’ll feel better” He places the big glass on the table in front of Max, and next to it a blister pack of paracetamol. Max has never been one for pain relief, but on this occasion he’s endlessly thankful, quickly popping two out and swallowing them with water that tastes far better than any alcohol could right now.

Apparently content, George has wandered over to drop down next to Lewis again, leaning into his side when the older man lifts an arm to wrap round his shoulders. They both grin at each other, then shock Max yet again as Lewis leans over to press a kiss against George’s forehead.

Max isn’t exactly sure how to properly ask “so, are you guys screwing” to fellow drivers he had thought were straight, but thankfully George seems to notice his wide eyed look and takes pity on him.

“I’m guessing this is a bit of a shock, isn’t it”

“Yes, can I ask how long?”

“Since Silverstone, 8 months”

“Jesus, how?”

Lewis shrugs at that, George seems to be content to melt into his side, head resting on Lewis’ shoulder. The way Lewis looks down at him before moving the hand on his shoulder to card through George’s hair, makes Max uncomfortable. He’s not sure why, he doesn’t think it’s because they’re both men, but he doesn’t understand why he would feel so… jealous.

“Home is where the heart is? I’m not sure how, but I suppose I could probably blame you for it, somewhat” Lewis finally responds, fingers still pushing back through George’s hair

“Me?” Max asks. This time it’s George who responds, voice only slightly muffled from where his face pressed into Lewis’ shirt

“We ended up alone in the Mercedes driver area after the race, Lewis was worried about you, I wanted to punch you, we argued about it, and one thing led to another.”

“Gave Valtterri one hell of a shock, poor guy”

“I’ve seen his arse on Netflix, Lewis, I doubt two guys making out really rattled him”

“ I think it was less the two men, Angel, and more that I had you pinned to a w-“ The rest of Lewis’ sentence gets muffled behind George’s hand, as the taller driver flushes red and doesn’t meet Max’s eye. Max has a feeling that the story goes a bit further than making out, and looks at George with a grin. It doesn’t last long though, it’s hard to picture Silverstone without remembering the crash. It was one of the worst of Max’s driving career, his head felt like it spun all the way to the medical centre. Ultimately he’d been fine, the cars much more equipped for those kinds of events than years past, but the aftermath off the track…

“I’m sorry for that crash. I should have let you have the corner, I was just so… the things Christian had been saying, I was sure if I let you past the race would be yours. Power of a home crowd and all….” He trails off. He had felt like Silverstone was his, that taking that win from Lewis would demoralise the other driver. That he’d drive worse.

If anything Lewis turned into a beast after their collision. No longer would he back out when Max pushed. Refused to play it safe and rely on tire strategy, he made Max fight tooth and nail for every second between them. It had been exhausting.

“It’s okay, Max. Crashes happen. Can’t say the same for the aftermath. I don’t think I’ve had that many death threats in years.” Lewis’ jaw looks tight, like he’s reliving it. George has a distant look to his eyes too, his hand winding into Lewis free one to squeeze it.

“I never should have let that happen. I can’t stop people saying things online… but I should have said something. Kelly kept telling me it wasn’t my job to make people be nice to you, that it was just people having an opinion… I knew it was bullshit and I did nothing. I’m sorry”

“Can’t change the past, Max.” It’s George this time, catching Lewis’ eye and getting a soft nod before he continues “We all listen to people we shouldn’t sometimes. But you have to start cutting them off, or they just keep feeding on you”

“Well, one down. Kelly’s been gone since January. I didn’t want to be around her family, and I was drunk more nights than not. Can’t say I blame her”

“She kinda sucked, Max” George deadpans, making all three of them snort.

“Well, in relation to that, your hangover is going to get worse if you don’t eat something, and I’m starving” Lewis muses, pushing himself off the couch with a last kiss to George’s nose. George grumbles, laying out in the warm space Lewis had left behind.

As if summoned by the mention of food, Max hears the click of nails on laminate, and Roscoe comes waddling out from the hallway leading to what he assumes must be Lewis’ bedroom. Lewis AND Georges bedroom, he corrects himself, even though it still sounds foreign to his ears. The large bulldog pays no mind to him at first, trotting over to George to snuffle at the hand left to hang over the edge of the couch until George rewards him with a leisurely ear scratch. When he’s content that George has given him enough attention, Roscoe sets his sights on Max. He plops down between his legs, looking up at him with oddly intelligent eyes in that big noggin of his. Max would have to be heartless to resist, and he aims for the spot he’d seen George go for. It seems to do the trick as Roscoe huffs happily at him, pressing his head into Max’s fingers.

George manages to roll onto his back while Max is distracted, and Max only realises when he hears the tell-tale click of an iPhone shutter. He sends George a questioning look, but George just looks back at him, deadpan and mouths black mail material.

“Oh Roscoe, you’re really getting spoiled today. Keep that up, Max and you’ll be his favourite in no time” Lewis has returned, a couple paper flyers for local take outs in hand. Max recognises a few of them, he’s seen the fliers about but never tried any. It’s always odd to remember he and Lewis live so close, after they spent so long avoiding each other.

Lewis ignores when George makes a pleading arms open gesture at him, even with a pout Max knows George has had as a weapon since they met, and beelines for his phone that had been left on the coffee table. Flicking it open, he turns to Max, trademark relaxed grin back in place.

“I’m ordering breakfast, any requests?”

———

Believe it or not this was written before the piquet commentary incident. Fuck that whole family