Gurusu
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If you're feeling kinda nervous in a jittery mood, you can confi-dentify get your self-esteem good by Anonymous
Fandoms: Formula 1 RPF
16 Jun 2026
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George is so thoroughly beyond the tiny things, each miniature moment that can't be catalogued in it's exact interpretation. He'll always be a little off the mark, too much to the left or too little to the right, never knowing when someone's angry or sad or elated because he can't sense it. Can't pick up on the tantalizing scents of hunger, the acrid, noisome smell of discomfort, the blazing harshness of rage, all of it so foreign.
The only saving grace is that they all try so hard for him.
(Beta George gets passed like a blunt between drivers.)
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Max Verstappen could not keep George's eyes out of his mind, his beautiful baby blue eyes.
Bookmarked by Gurusu
14 Jun 2026
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Некоторым мечтам не суждено сбыться - Фред это понимал как никто другой.
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A year after the catastrophic 2026 Monaco Grand Prix, Max led a group of survivors housed in an abandoned prison in the French countryside. The setback the group faced back then was the reason they became survivors of the biggest calamity that befall the whole world.
But in the midst of protecting his group from wandering zombies and from humans competing for resources and survival, while also rebuilding a life atop the world's ruins, Max missed him... He missed the luscious hair, the red lips, and the bony fingers. Every day, he wished George were with him, because the reliable, strong, and persistent George Russell should survive even an apocalypse instead of vanishing.
Or, what if Zombie Apocalypse happened after Monaco GP 2026?
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Max toed the shiny sheet of gold heat shield and said apropos of nothing, “Back in the days they used to tell fortune from looking at the guts.”
That got something out of George. He blinked, head slightly tilted. “Pardon?”
“Divination. I forgot what culture—something old. I watched something about it on a flight. They would disembowel an animal and poke at the guts—the intestines, whatever else—and read…” He couldn’t think of the word in English and gave up with a shrug. “You know what I mean. The future.”
“Omens,” George said almost mechanically.
“Yes, omens.” Max nodded. “So what omens have you received?”
“That I’m well and truly fucked, aren’t I."
Montreal, after the race. Max finds George in the Mercedes garage at one in the morning, standing in the entrails of a car that should have won.
Max has never believed in divine will or luck.
Series
- Part 1 of auspicia