CloudsofInk
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“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Max.” He scrubs a hand through his hair violently. “Open your eyes. Red Bull will survive you losing a title. They will not survive destabilizing everything for a driver they are still not fully committed to.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“Is it?” Carlos laughs again, sharper now. “You think I haven’t seen this sport before? You think I don’t know how quickly teams move on?”
Max opens his mouth.
Carlos cuts him off immediately.
“I am tired,” he says, voice suddenly rough around the edges, “of pretending I am not aware of the math here.”Race me like you love me, Max had said standing on one of the many hotel balconies they travelled to. And Carlos will be damned if he ever lets Max down.
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Max was alone in his apartment, scrolling idly through his phone while dinner cooled on the counter. George was still flying back from a sponsor event, their time zones misaligned just enough to make conversation lag. Max didn’t mind. He liked these quiet pockets of waiting now. They felt temporary instead of lonely.
The notification came from a group chat he rarely paid attention to.
Media clip circulating. You seen this?
Max frowned and tapped it open without thinking.
The video loaded slowly. George appeared on screen, younger, sharper around the edges, posture rigid in that way Max remembered too well. The lower-third graphic read:
End of 2024 - Driver Predictions for 2025
Max felt something cold settle in his stomach.
George Russell:
“I don’t think Red Bull will win the championship next year.”
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Smooth Operator 🌶️:
stop saying oui.Lord Perceval:
oui.Smooth Operator 🌶️:
I will block you.The Imposter:
wtf is going on in hereSmooth Operator 🌶️:
OH MY GOD WE WERE IN THE GROUP?!Lord Perceval:
WAIT THIS ISN’T DMS?The Imposter:
I leave you two alone for one night and suddenly you’re both having a crisis over max verstappen???Series
- Part 1 of F1 Extended Grid Chat Fic
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Or, the story of how Max and Charles got together (told entirely by people who somehow always ended up unwillingly third-wheeling them)
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“Tell your boyfriend he’s not as subtle as he thinks,” Charles mutters, sliding into the seat across from Lando at the McLaren motorhome as if he hasn’t just committed Grand Theft Yogurt from the hospitality fridge.
Lando blinks at him. “I - what? Who? What boyfriend?”
Charles arches one perfect, Monégasque eyebrow, as if Lando is a particularly dumb dog he’s somehow reluctantly fond of.
“You have a type,” Charles says smugly. “Spanish. Dramatic. Drives Ferraris. Sucks at hiding his feelings.”
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Helmut Marco has always run his mouth. Max Verstappen has always demanded performance. If they could both stop inadvertently slagging you off to the press, you can get some sleep in the next century.
Wait, why is Max bringing you croissants?
Bookmarked by CloudsofInk
19 Apr 2026
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Draco Malfoy may not have a Manor or money or status or a family or friends, but he has his looks, and goes into the glamorous modeling field.
And listen. Listen. No one can blame Harry for being obsessed with him all over again.
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Bookmarked by CloudsofInk
08 Mar 2026
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“I’m George,” the guy – George – says, not offering a hand. “Nice weather out here, don’t know how you race like this.”
Max is busy staring at the pearly whites blinding him. There’s no way this guy hasn’t had work done. Lips like those, plump and pouty, would probably burst if Max bit on them. The paddock has become a cesspool of influencers and celebrities since Netflix came in with their cameras, but it still rubs Max the wrong way, how they prance around knowing nothing about racing and offering their inane opinions.
“It’s fine,” he dismisses, gripping the ball. “I’m good at what I do.”
“I’m sure you are,” George says, flashing another cookie-cutter smile. “Good luck on Sunday, then.”
alternatively, max learns that loving a man doesn't have to be painful
Bookmarked by CloudsofInk
20 Dec 2025
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“Whats the party for? You get another kiddo?”
Max freezes, then his smile drops slightly.
“No. The 2025 championship.”
He says it like a fact, and Daniel feels his heart sink. He hadn't followed Formula one, blocked all the old accounts, but surely he had promised Max he would keep tabs on his stuff. One look around the inside of the room makes him feel even worse. Each wall is plastered with obnoxious ‘2025’ and ‘WDC’ scrawled all over.
“Oh fuck, I- congratulations, I had no idea.”
Max smiles at him, eyes hardening as he speaks again.
“There are drinks in the kitchen.”
Daniel grimaces, reaching out to ruffle Max’s hair.
“Not for me Maxie.”
It's a line that reminds Daniel that he too has changed, and perhaps they have finally become incompatible. Perhaps now he can finally say goodbye.
“Orange juice, not alcohol.”
Or, the fic where Max invites Daniel to his 5th WDC party and Daniel says yes.
Series
- Part 2 of The Orange Juice Universe
Bookmarked by CloudsofInk
20 Jan 2026
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The advanced group is small, immuable. Namjoon’s been returning to the camp every year for the last five years and the new guy is the new first introduction to it since little Jeongguk three years ago.
The addition doesn’t really make sense, according to Namjoon’s calculations. First of all, adding one person will make their group an uneven number which is clearly impractical for table tennis. Their coach will have to play amongst them, which means he won’t be able to watch them as well as they usually do. Namjoon wonders if his father knows it. He doesn’t think he’d be too happy to learn that.
Aside from the number, there is the fact that the guy apparently doesn’t even play in a team, if at all. Namjoon isn’t here for kiddie camp, he’s here to improve. He cannot lose any time playing anyone too easy, even if destroying the guy might make him feel good the first two times. Namjoon is here to meet serious opponents. Namjoon is here to become a champion.
So yes, Namjoon is yet to meet that guy but he already feels really bad about the new year.
Bookmarked by CloudsofInk
08 Jan 2025