Solbystan @mv3dr3 - Tumblr Blog

Hello! You can call me Solby :) (they/them) MDNI

I write sometimes, on the even rarer occasion I draw. It's mostly F1 stuff, more specifically maxiel...

my masterlist is here, or you can find my finished works on my AO3!

My prompt list is here and currently OPEN (you should def send something in ;)

Feel free to reach out to me in my asks, im always looking for f1 friends or just open to seeing any ideas people have! 💙✨

#about me #nice to meet you :)#solbystan yapping

Look who i found last night

#max verstappen #f1 #if he wasnt so expensive i would have gotten him #lowkey regretting it

Max picks at his cuticles, tugs at the skin until it blooms an awful red, striking against the paleness of his skin. He hates things like this, the dreaded normality of the reaping. His breathing remains steadied the best he can, chest moving up and down in time with the overhead clock.

He isn't nervous.

Except that he is, every record of the past 3 months speeds through Max’s mind as he tries to come to some number of the likelihood. Some dreaded statistic for how many times his name might be in that pool.

He pulls his hands apart with an exhale as he lands on a reasonable number. Its never enough to feel safe, nothing is overly safe here, everyone is conditioned to the leaving at any given moment, but its low enough to warrant a breath.

His shoulders relax.

Up there some woman is rummaging around, feeling for the slip of paper that will forever change someone’s fate.

The seconds stretch to hours, a lump growing ever larger in Max’s throat.

Finally the suspension breaks, it isn't his name, and Max can finally relax. A deep set guilt shortly put aside for whomever is so unlucky. Except the crowd is looking at him, pairs of eyes and heads turned to focus on where he is standing. It's then that his hearing returns, head swiveling to the space beside him.

Fuck.

Victoria.

Max has no time to think, he grabs her wrist from where she begins to move forward through the crowd, voice raw as it emerges through his throat.

“I volunteer! I volunteer myself as tribute!”

He cannot turn to look at his mother, nor can he meet his sister’s eyes.

The crowd is silent, seemingly weighing his fate, the dreaded clock keeps ticking.

An eternity passes in a second and the woman is beckoning him forward with a shrill laughter. It makes him dizzy with nausea.

Max quickly learns there is no pity in the games, he doesn't get to say goodbye before he is swept off his feet and on a train to the capitol. It's been years since he has been back here, more unease layering his stomach as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

He knows in theory how these things work, knows that he has a mentor waiting for him, knows he has to gain attention to survive. Max also knows there is no point in making friends, he is going to have to kill these people afterall.

Daniel is half way into a ditch when he is found, scooped up by two larger guards as he is returned to the grandeur of the center call. He isnt nearly drunk enough to feel care free about the request - if you could call it that - but nowhere near sober enough to remember to hold his tongue.

Words thick like molasses as they spill from his mouth.

“You want me to mentor? Hell no.”

It's a miracle they can understand him.

“You don't get a choice Mr. Ricciardo, I'm afraid as the winner of the 33rd Hunger Games you are a perfect candidate.”

He squints his eyes, pushing a hand to his temple in order to ease the ringing that's beginning.

“And who the fuck am I going to be draging around?”

“Max Verstappen, the president’s estranged son.”

#maxiel au #max verstappen #daniel ricciardo #maxiel #f1 #maxiel fanfic #wip #hunger games au #I have lots of ideas this is just very fast #let me know if you like this #I miss you guys

Max Verstappen is nothing short of amazing.

Truly, when Daniel first set his eyes on what was then a timid, awkward, tween, skinny and acne filled, he never thought much. To this day he can't tell you the exact moment where he began to care, to notice the smaller things, to be witness to the growing greatness. For a while Daniel resented him, hated those moments where Max seemed, no, was, unstoppable. A deep set jealousy that wished it were him instead.

Now he looks at those moments with awe, the times where he watches his Max defy all odds, the times when he is absolutely unstoppable.

They are a lot older now, no longer the pair of young dogs they used to be. But with age comes wisdom or whatever that dumb shit is, Daniel has happily been with Max for just over three years. Realistically they have been off and on since Monaco, a kiss too flavoured with gin on a balcony too loud. A kiss where Max was still so young and Daniel had just won and everything felt so right. Things soured, they always do, but time and maturity bring people back together for a reason and so when they tried this thing again. Better now, older, experienced, matured (though not really), it worked.

Max’s return is marked by the obvious door creaking, he doesn't slam doors like his father does, handles his fury much more collectively now. Nonetheless Daniel knows this is not a return of triumph for Max, he has seen the replay, knows what happened in Silverstone, more importantly he knows what that means.

Max’s footsteps grow closer, soft as he transitions from hardwood to carpet, his breath fans out across Daniel's back and when Daniel turns around to greet him his heart almost breaks.

Daniel expects to see anger, fury, deep set rage burning in Max’s eyes, and yet he turns to find only sadness. Well not only sadness, as he searches Max’s eyes he can find traces of anger and betrayal among the valleys and peaks of blue. It's reminiscent of Baku, of the way Max had looked at him when he had told him.

“Im leaving Max.”

It sends a guilty shiver down his spine.

Daniel opens his arms and Max falls into him immediately. Body heavy and warm and venerable. The sting is still there, Daniel can feel it even after all those years, the same way he can feel the outline of Max’s ring across his chest. The same ring he has on his own hand.

It's a promise, a physical reminder of who they are, of how intertwined their souls will always be.

Max takes a deep breath.

“It's done, I told them.”

With each word comes a weight being lifted, the sheer freedom that is soon to replace Max’s guilt excites Daniel. Regardless he knows Max will likely not view it this same for a very long time. Red Bull is home, a family, a very dysfunctional one, but nonetheless they are the only real one Max has ever had.

Daniel knows better than anyone what the feeling of earlier retirement is like. He remembers nights where Max ran his hand through soft curls as Daniel tried to reason with himself that this was still what he wanted. In the end it hadn't been, and while a better exit would have been much preferred, sometimes he thinks that he might have never left without it.

Max is still against him now, Danny knows this part, he is well versed in Maxology, he knows where to touch and where not to. He knows that Max is going to cry later on, inconsolable yet silent tears of anger and betrayal. He knows Max will get angry too, spit fearsome Dutch words that Daneil still doesn't understand.

And Daniel also knows that Max will call his God awful father, even though that will never make it better.

But Daniel will be here through all of it, he knows how to navigate each of the phases, what foods to cook and games to play, Daniel also knows that deep down this is for the best.

“It's gonna be okay Maxy.”

He can feel Max huff, he knows Max thinks that is a very stupid thing to say, but he doesn't comment because Max needs to hear it. Needs to know its the truth.

There is a life after racing, Daniel has learned that now, and he will be there to teach Max that too.

Daniel is always there for Max.

Because a few years ago it was him in Max’s place.

And Max was always there for him.

#maxiel #max verstappen #daniel ricciardo #wip #f1 #I wrote this for a Noah kahan prompt but wrote a better one so now I am just posting the unedited here #enjoy :)#me?? writing again??#send me prompts im bored lol 💙

mv3dr3

Oh its reshaping alright.

mv3dr3

But I thought it was reshaping 😔😳

#lol #f1 #max verstappen im so sorry for your fuckass team #anti red bull #anti mekies

Oh its reshaping alright.

#f1 #max verstappen #anti red bull #red bull racing #reshaping in the sense of fucking over the burning ship and ignoring the 4 time world champion #sounds like a great strategy to me #anti mekies #justice for daniel

burningbluesunsets

I think being a Max Verstappen fan is a barrier many are afraid to cross, for any reason whatsoever. But they don’t know that once you do, you’re literally living the best life, because no matter what happens, your driver is Max Verstappen.

Needed more fic inspiration because work is actually killing any creativity I have.

Fear not maxiel enjoyers I am going to see Noah Kahan tomorrow and that will surely get things moving again,

#no i dont mean shitting noah #noah kahan #noah kahan boston #AHH IM SO EXCITED

maxverstockexchange

Something something the caretaking dynamics. Bradley Scanes describing Max's tight inner circle, and joking that getting along with Max's family was probably what helped him cinch the job. He had some (unspecified) injuries he was dealing with at the time but didn't have a physio, and he needed someone who could "look after him." Chris Harris describing an almost parental feeling of protectiveness after having met Max- even as an adult, because it's hard to look at him and not remember the boy he once was and how he was treated. Christian describing Max as like, "a thoroughbred racehorse, GP his engineer is hanging on to the reins of." Laurent coming onto the radio after Hungary and apologizing for not getting Max the car he deserves. That one Puma video showing how much goes into making the kit comfortable for each driver, with individual preferences on fit honored down to the half centimeter. All the dozens of people who have commented on Max's work ethic and loyalty. That one Abu Dhabi radio: "we love you, we absolutely fucking love you." All the shots of trainers from various wet races as they help their drivers into the car, taking off their boot covers for them. Mark Thompson watching Max grow up through the eye of his camera lense. That one pap photo I won't repost from Singapore 2022 where Max is like. Half dead on the ground behind a dumpster with Bradley crouched in front of him. Something something when the team loves their driver like something precious and hones them like a killing edge, and the driver gives them everything he is in return. Oh my lord, Max.

spilledcoffeestain

where is this love and care now, red bull?

anemptyflask

But imagine you have that. You have all of that. You, for the first time in your life, have people who love you and take care of you and seem to actually genuinely like you. And then one day you wake up and it's gone. Every one of those people are gone and the ones who are still in your vicinity are all but already gone. You think you finally finally after twenty years of misery have something worth keeping and within eight years all you have left is the ache of a memory. You can't help but wonder if all the love was actually an illusion.

maxverstockexchange

Hey.

f1reasons

"Oh my god! Oh my god! It's unbelievable, guys! I don't know what to say. I'm so happy for them, amazing job guys. I love you so much. Can we do this for another 10, 15 years together?"