#Sharing thougts

[roselyn-writing]

Hello people! While I was re-watching winx season 2 I found something interesting! It’s an MK reference Scorpion! I never noticed this years ago (because when I know nothing of mk 😅) But now I did! The pixie even said Get Over here! 😁😁😆

[onionowt]

I recently noticed a lot of similarities in my recent hyperfixatons

Three games about little dudes explore the world (or planets), solve problems to move forward and all three games have wonderful soundtrack

Also two of these games have spirits that you have to help (samorost and sky)

Aaand.... oh! All these games have at least one cool glowing deer in it!

[cosmicaeons21]

The Bodies Of Baldurs Gate 💅

So here I am. Studying (ogling really) 👀 the body models of our beloved companions. And as I look closer, I find scars and stretch marks. Dimples, sunspots, even the odd birthmark or two… and those cute little freckles too!

And HOH! Don't get me started on the crow's feet! And the wrinkles (adore)! All telltale signs of a rich past - long before we, the players, get introduced to them all - frying pan & fire style of 'The Absolute Crisis' 🐙 ⚔️

This cherished little tidbit tickles the imagination. It speaks of a life wrought with joy and hardships. It makes Wyll and Karlach - not of code - but of flesh and blood! They become imperfect beings - just like us; flawed, unique, and corporeal ❤️‍🔥

This to me, is in part, the reason why we embrace them so readily. We can see ourselves reflected in these protagonists (yes, the Dark Urge included) 🫂

And it makes me giddy to think about how this underdog - Larian (an outlier) - comes in and changes the entirety, of the gaming industry overnight. Now they've set a new standard for everyone. Making waves that come crashing onto the shores of future game development 🦹‍♀️

[alchemicaladarna]

Little tangent about my journey with the QSMP fandom <3

First, I'm going to preface this post by saying, I wouldn't have been interested in the server, been introduced to so many communities, languages, and cultures, if not for the eggs and the admins. So, I initially gained interest when I saw a lot of people posting about Tallulah and.... Misclick duo (lmao) so I decided to check out what everybody was talking about mid-April 2023.

I watched Philza's April 29 VOD- "last" day of the eggs. Absolutely loved Chayanne and Phil planting potatoes because of Phil telling stories about Techno. Cried like a baby after. So now I'm invested.

I downloaded Twitch the next day, in time for the Brazilians' arrival. My main pov continued to be Philza, so I was a Crow for quite a while, mostly into the summer. I started watching Cellbit when the mystery really started to ramp up by the end of May.

Then Bobby died and everyone's reactions made me sob for like, a week.

Summer was probably the most time I've had fun watching QSMP. I don't know why, but it was such a good era, despite the discourse about elections lmao. I began to gravitate more towards watching Foolish's pov and when Jaiden began streaming every day, I had her as my main pov as well. Shoutout to the doozers and Jaiden mains <33

Then, Tina and Bagi arrived and I began religiously watching them as well for, uh. Reasons ���️‍🌈 XD. Got invested in Bagi's lore and then everybody became really busy during October so Bad and Bagi were pretty much the only ones consistently on the server XD.

Then, and only then, did I hear little whispers about q!Badboyhalo's soul vultures and possible death? And I got really really interested then. And that's where the Ghostie era started lmao. Up to now, Bad is the only person I'd watch consistently and keep up to date on his lore because well, after the soul vultures arc and especially Sweet Despair, you can't really go back to anything else after that you know?

Of course, without the QSMP, I don't think I would've discovered/re-discovered so many wonderful streamers like Fit, Tubbo, Étoiles, Mouse, or Baghera to name a few.

The past few weeks have probably been the shittiest and most anxiety-ridden weeks for me ever. But, I don't want all the negativity and anxiety to overshadow what was, for me, THE most special and unique fandom experience I've ever had. The QSMP is such a special project, there's no doubt about that. I want that to continue.

So, if this post can offer any sort of positivity and relieve some of the dread we've all been feeling, to any person from any community, that would mean so much to me already.

Send love to and the utmost kindness and care to any and all ex admins, and continue to show your support for the current admins too please. It will take a long time for this to be resolved, and it's terrifying I know, but all we can do is support each other and wait.

Remember to always take care of yourselves and no matter what happens, it always rains before you can see a rainbow right? So, in other words, things will become worse before they can get better. Idk what will happen with the QSMP, but know that life becomes better eventually. No matter the outcome, you'll be ok. We'll all be ok. <333

Edit: oh my god I just realized qsmp 1st anniversary isn't tomorrow. Today is the 20th djrjtbrbebd

There's still 2 days but um everything else I said is still true XDDDD

[hinsaa-paramo-dharma]

IT'S OVER.

[nuppu-nuppu]

hey! if you don’t mind, what’s your name mean? how did you choose it? <3 have a nice day

Hi!! My name Nuppu means flower bud in Finnish! And it’s an actual Finnish name :D

Hope you have an amazing day <3

[nikonicd]

I hope you find the best version of yourself soon. I'm over here cheering you on.

[scoups4lyfe]

LOLOLOLOLOLOL

(1) ur fKING KIDDING ME

and

(2) LOL WHY ARE THEY IN THIS POSITION????

.....

👀

why not

exACTLY

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

[camcameroon]

Just finished reading “the secret history” and I feel like my heart has been shattered to a million pieces (not in a bad way, well kinda)

(Credits to the creator of this gif!)

1. First thing I wanna say: I’m so so so so angry that francis married that bimbo, in my mind him and richard are living in a country house, overall just being in love <33

2. Camilla deserved better🙁 (so did Henry, but that’s not the point). I physically cannot believe miss Tartt firstly: did not tell us what Henry whispered, but also did not do justice for Camilla, I can’t bare to think that she’ll have to live without the love of her life😭

3. I hate Charles sm, he did have some good moments, but why did he have a pretty good ending when Camilla had to go through all of that???

Anyways! PLEASE SHARE YOUR THOUGHTS IN EITHER THE COMMENTS OR MESSAGE ME HERE I’D LOVE TO SPEAK AND HEAR WHAT YOU’RE THINKING!❤️❤️

[fortunes-things]

Hi, today I came into a realization, and I wanted to share it.

We all love to watch movies, anime, drama, or anything. We try everything to escape reality and find comfort in the fantasy world, fictional world which is more pretty than ours, more interesting than ours, amazing than ours. We love the feelings we feel while watching k-drama or reading a book. We cry when there is a sad scene, get angry on behalf of the protagonist, feel embarrassed for them, or try to hype them up when they are in a pinch.

We often times want to experience this ourselves, but in all this we forget we are also the main characters of our story. We sometimes also experience the same dramatic things. We just require a different perspective. We just have to take a moment and think of our lives as we are in a movie, and then everything starts feeling different.

For example, yesterday was a total hectic day for me. My office has a cab service, and we get a pick-up time. And at the time of my pick-up, I was at parlor doing my eyebrows. It's just by luck that my cab got delayed, and I was able to make it on time. And I had both also got my eyebrows done and got on that cab.

Now, if I was watching this scene on TV, I would be like, Oh My God is she going to make it or not and I would be that Idiot why does she have to go at that time. If she is going to miss her cab, she will be late for office and get scolded. And I will also be is that idiot likes to get scolded. And then I will be so happy when she makes it to the cab. It will be "uhh" moment the long exhale that we take after being relaxed like that!

And if you think that was it, then you guys are wrong. There was some feud going on between my newly appointed assistant manager and team leader in my office, (as the tl wanted to be the am of our team) and between their feuds, all of the team got wrapped around. We all had pressure on us with whom to side and to decide who was wrong and right in this. After reaching home that night, we all got unexpected calls from our manager to tell us the details about their cold war, we then knew the matter had got out of hand and we had to decide with whom we will side with and as we still couldn't decide with whom we want to side, we all tried to stand on the middle ground like we won't be siding with anyone. After getting a call from our manager, my friends and I had a three-way conference call to talk about it, and shared what he asked with us and what we're our opinions and then we came to know that we three had diffraction opinions about this matter, where as one of my friend and me does not want to get into it, we cam to know that our other friend was the who escalated things by telling our am about what our tl was taking about her. We were shocked at the time and asked why she did that, and then she explained about how our tl was bad mouthing her because she and our newly appointed am were close.

Now, if I was reading a book and the main character was having office issues, I would sympathize with her get angry on her behalf and would absolutely love the drama happening there.

And in all that tension, I had more things going on, my younger sister who is only in her first year in college and lives alone in a hostel in a completely unknown city to was not picking up her phone after going to an event with her friends. It was 8:30 when she told our mother that she had left for home and 9 'O' clock when the hostel warden called my mother to let her know that she had not reached home yet. After that, my mother called her multiple times, and she was not picking up the phone. Then my mother called me in hopes I knew something. (here to be noted that I also live alone in a different city than my parents and sister) I called her and she wasn't picking up the phone I called her friends and they also told me she wasn't picking up the phone. We all went dry on our throat in worry for her. It wasn't till 10:30 that we reached her and she told us that she was stuck in traffic and her phone was in silent. We all were so tensed for her, and we all felt a lot of emotion at that anger was also one of them, but relief was main that she reached her place safely, and nothing bad her happened to her.

Now, when reading this in a book or watching this in a TV I would have mostly felt angry towards the main character younger sister, like how can she keep her phone on silent and what was she really doing that she had to keep her phone silent and how can she make her older sister and her whole family worry like that and if she had a little bit of sense or not.

When today I was thinking about how yesterday went I came to realize I totally live in a movie or a book my life is not different than theirs. These were just small snipets of what I experienced in a day. There must be so much experience like that which I must have experienced in a week a month or even a year. Yesterday made me realize how just having a different view about a thing can totally change the thing. From I would try to think I'm the main character of my favorite book at try to live like that, if my life is like a movie so why not?

[tiyarawat]

What makes you happy the most.....the thing that Cheer's u up... Make u feel the comfort and safe?¿

[violetclarity]

happy new year, friends! NYE has been a tough one for me in recent years - it always brings to mind the things I didn’t accomplish, and the things that haven’t changed, over the past year. Plus it comes at the end of the christmas season, and while I love the festivity, that is also a hard time of year for me - especially this year - because it kind of sucks to be alone for christmas!

I don’t have any grand lists or 2022 recaps to share. I only wrote one fic this year - co-wrote, with the incomprable @yrfrndfrnkly - and though I finished my novel draft back in april, I’ve been struggling hard to make any further progress on it. I only picked it up to edit this fall, and I’ve gotten less than 1/4 of the way through. It’s definitely my goal in 2023 to crank out those edits, but other than that, who knows what the new year holds in terms of writing.

My main hope, going into 2023, is to take care of myself, to check some things off my to-do list that I’ve been meaning to do, to continue to make my home & my life more suitable. I started off strong on my apartment updates (by which I mean, finally organizing and doing a lot of things I’ve meant to do since I moved in) in november, and I want to keep that momentum going and hopefully have everything well settled by the time I’ve been in this apartment for a year.

For january though, I mostly want to hibernate, and drink a lot of hot chocolate, and read good books (one highlight of 2022 - I read many good books). I’m feeling rather frustrated, and also fragile, and I’m not sure if the perfect solution is to insulate myself for a few weeks, but I think I’m going to test it out and see if it helps.

I’m not sure quite why I’m sharing this - half accountability, more than half as some kind of antidote to all of the 2022 recaps and lists of awesome things that happened last year I’ve seen floating around on all platforms, but tumblr is the only place I feel comfortable being this honest? or something? no disrespect meant to anyone posting best-of lists etc, of course - I’m so happy for everyone’s successes this past year! - but I wanted to make room also for those for whom, like me, the new year is sort of meh, or complicated, or they don’t have a ton of solid things they can point to like “look at my year!” - I see you <3

resolutions or no, I am hoping for a joyful, creative, and restful 2023 for each one of you!

[jimkal-906]

Lonely walks sometimes feel better than walking with friends.

[scoups4lyfe]

Oh, so you're not that much older than me, cuz I graduated high school in 2017 and college in 2021...so I'd say you're like 24-25? As for college major...idk, creative writing? Or something in film? Since you tend to analyze revice and donbrothers with that sort of critical eye...but also maybe business?

I'm a 98-liner lmao so you are spot on, my friend. :D

Major wise,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

None of those, but CLOSE.

[anewdaywilldawn]

I was thinking about the “it’s just a phase” thing (applied to whatever aspect in one’s life).

And it’s not a bad thing to say or an offense.

Hear me out before you come at me. A couple examples:

I wear all black all the time? Maybe this time next year I’ll be a walking cupcake. This doesn’t mean my wearing black NOW isn’t valid, and my wearing colorfully NEXT YEAR will be just as valid.

Even LGBTQ+ ppl, they “were straight” before they realized they were not. Being straight was their “phase”, and obv seen as valid and right. Even if (EVEN IF) their not being straight was a phase, why shouldn’t it be just as valid?

Y’know what? LIFE IS MADE OF “PHASES”.

Phases aren’t bad or wrong per se. What is wrong imo is labeling as a “phase” (and not accepting it for what it is) whatever doesn’t align with what is considered “normal”, “right” or “common”.

Thx for coming to my TED Talk-

[monzabee]

the smallest man who ever lived - cl16

masterlist || part 2 || part 3 ||

Summary: The one where you’re thrown into a conundrum when you learn the news of your husband, Charles’, infidelity.

Pairing: charles leclerc x wife!reader; carlos sainz x reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: angst, cheating, crying, manipulation(?), charles is an absolute asshole (but so is the reader) (but she’s kinda also badass?) (toxic relationship?), even more assholish carlos (gasp), blackmail, mention of pregnancy, mention of sex and sexual acts, physical confrontation (literally just pushing someone off but still)

Request: “Hey girl can I request something angsty with Charles? Maybe Charles cheating on Y/N (we’re already famous and have been married to Charles for years) and the fighting, the finding out, his guilt, angst, etc.”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! thank you to the anon who requested this because i had the time of my life working on it, and it might be the first fic i wrote in one go for the last six months or so!! also thank you to the getting cheated on playlists i found on spotify and amy dunne for giving me the inspiration to make the reader as toxic as i could. special thanks to @norrisleclercf1 and @percervall who had to listen to me talk about this fic NONSTOP. this is definitely something very different to what i usually write, but i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

There are moments in life where you feel like a complete and utter idiot. Although it could be for no apparent reason at all, there is a perfectly explainable reason why you feel like that right now, in the middle of your trailer on the set, with your manager and publicist both looking at you like you could explode at any given moment. It took you a good amount of time to wrap your head around the news, the news that wrecked you into a million of pieces which left you as the only person who can put them back together.  

“Let me get this straight,” you start, still trying to wrap your head around the news, “they were photographed leaving the club, and there’s a–?” 

“Sex tape, yes.” Your manager mumbles, earning himself a side-eye from your publicist. “It was so kindly attached to the email.”  

“And it is anonymous?” You ask, earning curt nods from both. “Well,” you manage to get out, pressing your lips together not to let out a sob, or a laugh, both? “That is very ambitious of him.” 

Your publicist shares a concerned look with your manager, then turns to you, “I guess so? How would you want us to handle this? I can buy us some time until these are released to public, but I think getting a statement ready just in case is essential given the fact that both of you are public figues. We can say that you’ll attend marriage councelling–” 

Your loud laugter cuts her off in the middle of her sentence. “And just why would we do that?” 

“I–” She gives you another concerned look as she softens her voice, which is quite uncharacteristic for her, you realise. “How would you want us to approach it then?” 

“I don’t want you to approach it at all.” You voice cuts through the tension, your gaze fixed on her. “I’ll handle it.”  

“But Charles–” She tries to reason, but you cut her off again.  

“Decided to get his dick wet where it certainly didn’t belong, he’s a big boy – he’ll survive.” Fixing her with a final look, you turn to your manager instead. “I don’t want this going to Charles or his team’s ears, that’s what the email said, and we should honour it, no?”  

His expression turns into a smirk, matching the one playing on your lips as he nods in thougt, “Would you like us to do anything else? We can talk with the production if you need a couple of days to… well, recuperate. Greta would understand.” 

“No.” Your answer is final as you shake your head. “She thinks this is an Oscar worthy project, I’m not throwing it away because my husband decided to think with his dick and not his brain. Just call my lawyers and tell them to be on stand by.” 

“Should I also book you tickets to Monaco still?” He asks in a monotone tone. 

“Well of course,” you reply in a sweet voice, widening your eyes for dramatic effect, “it’s a family event.” 

Your publicist eyes the both of you, “Okay,” as she drags the word out, “are you sure you don’t want to take a couple of days off?” 

“Positive. I have an EGOT to win.” Raising the script you have in your hands in the air, you announce, “I have lines I need to go over, is that all?”  

And as they leave your trailer to give you some space to ‘go over your lines’, you let a few tears escape your eyes, promising yourself that you would make Charles feel a thousand worse what he made you feel in the moment. 

It is not surprising or a sudden revelation that Monte Carlo has good weather all year around. But as it happens with the last few weeks following you learning about your husband’s infidelity, all you feel is cold – and no amount of warm weather is enough to make your heart feel warmer again. As you stand at the terrace of Café de Paris, overlooking the cityscape of Monte Carlo, all you can think about is how you just want to get this part of you plan over with as fast as possible.  

“Chérie!” The voice you hear makes a lump perpetually situate itself in the middle of your throat, but you brace yourself for the worst as you turn on your heels to face the person you’re most scared of facing in this whole situation. “Look at you, you look incroyable! You had me scared when you told me you were catching the redeye, and that we just had to talk!” 

“Pascale,” you breathe out as the woman pulls you into her arms with the warmness of any mother would do, and for that brief moment, you feel better than you have in weeks. “It’s so nice to see you again,” giving her the warmest smile you can muster up in the circumstances as you pull back, fixing your gaze at the figure behind her as you nod your head in acknowledgement, “Arthur.” 

“Maman is right,” Arthur says as he opens his arms, “you do look good.”  

“Well, thank you.” You reply as you give him a quick hug, and motion the table as you pull back. “Shall we?” Call it common curtesy, or cowardice, the fact that you don’t directly get to the point. Either way, you talk about what you’ve missed in the couple of months in which you’ve been away filming. You’re not necessarily paying attention, though the endtail of Pascale’s sentence catch your attention. “Excuse me, can you repeat that?” 

“Well, I was just telling how sad I was that Charles doesn’t come home as often this season. Though I understand he’s coming out to see you on set, distance can be so hard even for–” 

“He’s not coming out to see me, Pascale.” You voice is softer, and appears more broken than you would want it to be, but your words convey the message enough. It takes you a couple of moments to organise your thoughts, and Arthur calling out your name, to get you back into the moment. “There’s something I need to talk with the both of you, something I’ve already talked with Lorenzo, but I thought it would be better for you to hear it from me.”  

“Okay?” Arthur mumbles, then gives you a supportive smile, “You can tell us anything. Though don’t tell me I’m about to be an uncle because I don’t think my ego can take it at the–” 

You attempt to swallow the lump in your throat as you direct your words to the woman sitting across from you. “I’m divorcing your son, and I thought you should hear it from me and not him.”  

It takes a few minutes for both Pascale and Arthur to say something, and it concerns you that you somehow managed to give your mother in law a brain aneurism, but eventually, she manages to get out, “What? How? Why? Are you okay?”  

“I’m… fine.” You reply, albeit it comes off calculated. “I found a couple of weeks ago that he was cheating on me, I’ve came back to give him the papers myself.”  

“He what?” Arthur exclaims, then realises the level of his voice, and lowers it down as he asks, “Are you sure this is not a misunderstanding? The guy has been in love with you for over a decade, he wouldn’t do this.” With a resigning sigh, you find what you’re looking for in your phone and hand it over to Arthur. Who then, upon seeing what you have pulled up, immediately hands it back to you and turns to his mother, “Trust me you don’t want to see it.” 

“I’ve came to tell you the news, and well, to apologise.” You turn to face Pascale again.  

“Apologise?” She repeats, “Why on earth would you apologise to me when my son cheated on you?” 

“You’ve been nothing but kind to me ever since we’ve met, both of you.” You acknowledge Arthur with a look, and then focus your attention back on the woman, “Though I will make sure you don’t get caught in the crossfire in any way, I wanted to apologise for what I’m about to put your son through.”  

You honestly don’t know how you manage to act as if everything has been going fine in your life during race day. Given the fact that your husband doesn’t expect you to be at his race due to your rigorous filming schedule, and his family members being willing to hide your existence from him, you have no obstacles in your way to carry out the rest of your plan in motion. Which is exactly why you’re sat in the dark, waiting for your husband to walk through the doors of your apartment overlooking the city. With you seemingly being absent for the weekend, he has no reason to not believe that he is coming to an empty house.  

So, imagine his surprise when he enters his home; with his girlfriend in his arm, no less, and sees his wife sitting on the couch with her legs crossed and a drink in her hand. The look on his face is priceless, and despite all the pain and frustration you’re feeling, it manages to bring you some semblance of joy, knowing that it’s going to hurt him just as much as it hurt you.  

“Ma chérie,” Charles stammers, eye wide as he looks at you like a deer caught in headlights, “I – I didn’t know y–you were coming back this weekend.” 

“Well obviously,” you scoff, taking a generous sip from the drink in the glass tumbler in your hand, “otherwise you wouldn’t bring your little girlfriend into my house to fuck her.” You hear a gasp from the scaredy brunette wedging herself closer to your husband’s side, and for the first time you take a good look at her – young, much younger than you, tall, leggy; all the telltale signs that she is exactly your husband’s type. Tilting your head to the side, you rest the glass on the arm of the armchair you’re sitting in, “If you could leave now, I would greatly appreciate it.”  

You hear Charles whisper something in her ear, probably telling her to leave and that he’ll contact her tomorrow, and watch as she gives him a scowl, screeching, “You’re just going to let her throw me out?” 

“Well, considering the fact that this is my house, yes.” You give her a look of pity, watching her face light up with anger.  

“Listen to me, you bitch–” She starts, but your husband quickly cuts her off.  

“Mon cœur!” He exclaims, “S'il te plaît!” 

“Yes, listen to him, like a good little girl,” you egg her on, a smirk widening on your lips as you start swinging the leg resting on your lower one, choosing to focus on your nails instead of your husband trying to soothe his lover. 

You hear her scoff, take a few steps as her heels click on the marble floor of the entrance, “I wouldn’t be so calm if I were you, I’m not someone you want to be on bad terms with, considering the fact that he’s going to leave you for me!” 

“Oh, honey,” you coo, focusing your attention back on her and seeing the look of concern in your husband’s face through the corner of your eye, “and when did he tell you that, like a year ago? Two? Three?” A realisation dawns on her face as the smug expression starts to fade. “Don’t worry, though, you can have him when I’m done with him.” Pushing yourself off the armchair, you down the rest of the drink in the glass before slamming it down onto the glass coffee table. “And not only do I not care if you think I'm a bitch, but I hugely prefer it. Now get the fuck out of my house before I call security and get your ass thrown out.”  

You watch as she looks at Charles with indignation, lets out another screeching sound and slams the door behind her as she stomps out of your apartment. Only then you turn your gaze back to your husband, who has the guts to look at you with a worried look on his face. “How long have you known?” Is the first thing he asks you, taking a few steps closer.  

“A couple of weeks, a month, maybe?” You answer him, leaving your place to get to the small bar in the corner of your living room to get another refill of your drink. “There’s a video of the two, it somehow got into my hands, and it has very graphic details of the two of you having sex.” Popping a lemon into your cup, you make your way back to the armchair and sit down, “Are you stupid enough to cheat on me and make a fucking sex tape, Charles?” 

“I-I didn’t mean to–” He tries to plead, but you cut him off with a shake of your head.  

“You didn’t mean to what?” You ask him; your voice soothing, almost understanding, and it does the job of fooling him. “Cheat on me? Fuck another woman in my bed? Break the vows you’ve made?”  

“Ma chérie,” he whispers, “please.” 

“No.” Your voice is colder all of a sudden. “Tell me how long this has been going on for. Was I right? How many years?” 

“It started five years ago,” his voice is soft, somber and he tries to appear as genuine as he can in the situation, you suppose, “but I knew her, from before...” 

“Before what?” You’re seething now, the complete opposite of his calmness, “Did you fucking cheat me when we were dating, Charles?” 

“Ma chérie,” he gives you another pleading look, “please, I can change. I’ll go to therapy.”  

Now that, manages to get a bark of laughter from you. It’s ripped from the back of your throat, making you throw your head back as you lose yourself in the laughter to the point that there are tears in your eyes when you finally manage to calm yourself down. Putting the glass down on the coffee table once again, you wipe them off, mindful of your mascara, as you shift your attention back onto your husband. “Are fucking kidding me right now?” He gives you a concerned look, hands on his hips as he opens his mouth to answer you, but you quickly shut him down again. “You were bringing her into my house to fuck her, I caught you, I have your fucking sex tape – which is going to be streamlined for the world to see within twenty-four hours, do you honestly think I would go back to you?”  

“Wait, what?” He exclaims, looking at you with wide eyes and a shocked expression. “What do you mean they are going to streamline it, why didn’t you go to the lawyers? 

“I did go to the lawyers,” you shrug, innocently, “my lawyers,” you point out. “Why would I cover up your mistakes after everything you’ve done?” 

“Because I’m your fucking husband!” He barks, his arms widening to his sides as he finally loses his mask and his composure.  

His little tantrum only makes you let out another laugh, “Now, you’re my husband? Not when you’re cheating on me when I’m away shooting, but when you need me to clean up after your mistakes?” 

“How did you even get the video?” He asks, eyes narrowing down, “Who- who– who?” 

“Who? Who? Hoo? What are you, a fucking owl?” You exclaim, this time raising your voice. “You’re honestly more concerned about where I got it and not about the fact that the entire world is about to see you fucking someone other than your wife?” 

“What are we doing to do?” He asks, “Fuck, I have a race tomorrow.” 

“We’re not going to do anything.” You shrug, leaning forward to grab the glass and take another sip, “Or scratch that, we’re actually going to do something.” You stand up from the armchair, walk towards the table and hand him the file. “Congratulations, we’re getting a divorce.” 

“That is not happening.” He scoffs, not even bothering to look at the papers.  

“I don’t think you’re in the position to bargain with me, Charles.” You seethe, “You’re going to sign the damn papers, and you’re also going to sign away your rights to the baby.”  

“What the–?” He looks at you in disbelief, “You’re pregnant?” 

“Congratulations, it’s a boy.” You bite out, “Like you wanted.” 

“You’ve been drinking the entire night.” He points to the glass, “Do you expect me to believe you’re pregnant?” 

Offering him a sweet smile you hand him the glass, tipping it towards him, “It’s soda water, would you like a sip?” 

“Don’t make me do this,” he pleads, “give me another chance.” 

“I would’ve, if you were honest with me from the start.” You resign, a sincere look in your eyes. “I’ll give you a choice: us, or her.”  

He rears back with the offer, looking at you in disbelief. “What?” 

“You either choose me and the baby or you choose to be with her, and in that case, I will never let you near my baby, Charles.” You shake your head, wrapping your arms around your stomach protectively.  

For a second, his eyes linger around your stomach.   But you know his choice when he meets your eyes again.  

“What have we done to each other?” He whispers, and you can barely see the tears in his eyes.  

“We didn’t do anything, Charles. I gave up everything for you, but you just took me for granted.” Walking back to the dining table, you grab your coat and bag, and when you come face to face with him again, your voice is soft despite all the anger you still feel towards him. “You, Charles Leclerc, are truly the smallest man who ever lived.”  

The hotel lobby is calm and empty as you sit at the bar, and it’s surprising when you consider that fact that it is the weekend of the Monaco Grand Prix, meaning that there must be hundreds and thousands of motorsports fans visiting. Not that you’re complaining about the silence, of course. After the night you’ve had, silence and calmness are all you could ask for.  

“I’ll get a whiskey, please, whatever top shelf stuff you’ve got.” A voice cuts through the moment you are having, and you instantly recognise the distinct accent of the stranger sitting next to you. “Thought you were in the States, finishing off filming.” This time, the comment is directed to you, and you roll your eyes as you push the empty glass towards the bartender on duty.  

With a sigh, you turn to the man on your right, “What do you want, Carlos?” Your voice conveys your lack of energy, and Carlos is not dumb enough not to notice the dark circles under your eyes beneath your makeup.  

“I came to check on you.” Is his answer. Simple, curt and to the point. You’d certainly appreciate it more if you had the patience for his antics.  

“Well, you did, have a good night.” Slamming down a hundred-Euro bill onto the counter, you make a move to get up from your place, but a gentle hand on your wrist stops you. “Let me go.”  

Though there is no venom to your voice, Carlos knows that it is not the time, nor the place, to test your patience. “I’m sorry,” he starts and when you take a good look at him, you can tell that he’s being sincere, “I really did want to check up on you, and considering the fact that you have a perfectly good penthouse but instead in a hotel, I think I was right to do so.”  

Crossing your arms across your chest as you get back onto the barstool with a huff, you glare at him lightheartedly, “I didn’t want to stay in the same house as him,” raising your eyebrows, you continue with a lower voice, “thanks to chilisade5594@gmail.com, but I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.” The way his cheeks redden under the dim lights of the lobby bar would make you chuckle under normal circumstances, but you push the thought aside, “Honestly, what were you thinking? You’re lucky it was me who realised it was you, if it was my agent or publicist, we’d have another scandal to deal with.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he brushes you off with a swat of his hand, “I’m sorry I put you into that position.” 

“Don’t be,” you mumble, tilting your head to the side, “I wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t sent me the video. Just tell me why you did it.” 

“What?” He turns you with a confused look on his face.  

“Why, Carlos?” You ask, voice encouraging yet soft, “Why did you send it? Why now?” 

He keeps quiet for a while, not answering your questions but not taking his gaze off you either. Eventually, he exhales a deep sigh as he gives you a sheepish shrug, “I didn’t like the way he treated you. And I didn’t want to make you worry about it without concrete proof, so I guess everything just... worked out.”  

“Huh,” you let out a small hum in agreement, “I guess you’re right.”  

Expecting more than the words you chose to answer him with, he raises an eyebrow as he takes a big gulp of whiskey from his glass. “That’s it?” 

“Well, what more is it there to say?” You ask, sheepishly shrugging. “We’re getting a divorce; he’s going to move out and I’m gonna make sure the entire world knows just why.” 

Carlos flags down the bartender as he mumbles, “I feel like you need a stronger drink if we’re going to talk about your impending divorce, cariño.” 

Taking a deep breath and exhaling an even deeper sigh, you shake your head. “I can’t.” Thank God Carlos is one of the people who is the proud owner of a braincell around you, because he catches your insinuation quickly.  

With widened eyes, he quickly turns towards you, eyes softening as you offer him a sad smile. “Dios mío,” he murmurs, eyes running over you worriedly, “are you okay?” 

“Well... no.” You let out an unexpected laugh at his expression, patting him on the shoulder lightheartedly. “I’ll be fine, Carlos, I’m a big girl. I can handle this.” 

“I know you will,” he assures you, “but does Charles know?” 

Now that manages to bring a grimace to your face. “He signed his parental rights away along with the divorce papers.” The look he gives you after hearing your words has you worried that his eyes are going to pop out of their sockets, but you try to calm him down as best as you can. “Carlos, it’s fine.” 

“It’s most certainly not!” He exclaims, his voice echoing in the almost empty hotel lobby. “Is he out of his mind?”  

You give him an awkward smile and another shrug of your shoulders. "I... feel like whatever I’m going to say is going to be wrong. So... yes?”

“Cariño,” he says, exasperated, “how are you so normal about this?” 

“Lots of women raise their kids as single mothers while working, Carlos.” Your expression quickly taking the form of a frown, “I can handle this, I don’t need Charles or anyone else to hold my hand and tell me I’m doing such a good job.” 

“I know you can do this alone, tonta,” he rolls his eyes as the endearment making you roll your eyes, “but you’re not going to be alone. Because I’m here.” There’s a certain finality to his words. And just as you’re about to object to his words, he quickly shuts you down. “I know you can do this on your own, but you don’t have to, okay? I’m going to be with you every step of the way.”  

“What if I need waffles in the middle of the night?” You ask, your eyebrow raised in a skeptical way.  

“I’ll adjust my pancake recipe.” His reply his immediate, and he shrugs lightly as he adds, “Pancakes are better, anyway.”  

Rolling your eyes you continue, “What if I need someone to hold my hand in the delivery room? It can get quite gruesome, you know?” 

He provides you with another nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. “I’ve never really been affected by it.”  

“Okay, this is ridiculous, Carlos!” You exclaim, pushing yourself off your seat as you turn your body to face him. “I don’t need you to bail me out, I don’t need your help!” 

“I know you don’t,” he nods.  

“I am capable of doing this on my own!” You shriek, and the fact that your face is starting to get progressively redder worries Carlos.  

“I know you are, but–” he tries to reason.  

“No buts! I’m going to be a good mother, okay?” You point an accusatory finger towards him. “I’m going to choose him!” 

The way your voice breaks at the end of your sentence has Carlos instinctively pull you into his arms, which is not that hard given the fact that you are almost the same height as him as you stand in front of the bar stool he’s sitting on, and he doesn’t say a word as you sob into his chest – letting out all the emotion you’ve bottled up over the past few weeks, no less. He doesn’t you offer you empty promises or tries to soothe you with cliché phrases. Instead, he stands still, holding you between his arms as you sob continuously into his chest. Giving the bar tender an awkward smile over your shoulder, he hands him his card to close out your tabs.  

He only starts talking again once you’ve pulled away and trying to wipe the remnants of your tears from under your eyes. “Do you feel better now?” He asks, handing you a napkin.  

“Yeah,” you mumble, sniffing as you play with the corners of the napkin. Then, you flip your eyes toward his, and fix him with a glare. “You are not becoming my kid’s stepdad.” 

“Of course not, cariño,” he assures you, “I’ll be the dad that stepped up instead.” 

You let out a teary chuckle as you slap him lightly on his chest. “I’m serious, Carlos.” 

“So am I.” He replies softly, and you can see the genuine look on his face. “You’re not alone anymore, I’m choosing you.” Tentatively, he presses his hand softly against your stomach as he maintains your gaze. “Both of you.” 

And though the last thing you want is a promise, this one seems like a real one. So, you let yourself believe that he might just keep it up.