when facing the things we turn away from,
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all my life i’ve been breaking these same old wishing bones by kinopus
Fandoms: Formula 1 RPF
28 Sep 2025
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Summary
But they also think Charles is shaped from hunger. Max doesn’t think so. He thinks he’s shaped from grief. And that’s why it’s hard to bend and break him.
He still doesn't understand how Ferrari managed to do that though.
or, Just another race another disappointment, Charles just wants it to stop now. And Max is always there.
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i see it all here in colour (it’s such a beautiful dream) by kinopus
Fandoms: Formula 1 RPF
07 Dec 2025
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“Hey,” His voice cracked. Max hummed, thumb smoothing a line up his spine. “Do you think a life you can’t remember is still a good life?” The words hung there, absurd and weightless. They sounded almost childish when spoken aloud.
Max brushed a thumb over Charles’ cheekbone—it was slow almost in a hurting way, it was deliberate, it made Charles’ chest ache.
“I mean, like—yes,” Max said, voice low, like sharing a secret. He kept looking at Charles as if memorizing him, piece by piece, making sure none of him would ever get lost.
Charles blinked up at him. “Why’s that?”
Max’s smile deepened—gentle, devastating, tender in a way that made Charles feel suddenly weightless, as if someone had lifted the water off his chest for the first time in years.
“Because someone else will remember it,” he murmured while his thumb slid along Charles’ jaw.
or, Blue was always waiting for Charles.
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