Silisa_v
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"Don't be difficult. It is simple. Whoever will finish lower, under fair circumstances will not–" He stops. His boisterous air of confidence is shattered a little when he stutters and waves a hand, not completing his sentence, not saying the words.
"Come for the night?" Oscar finishes for him, tone dry, cutting Carlos some slack despite enjoying his flustered state.
"Yes." Carlos immediately parrots, cheeks red and embarrassed.
Bookmarked by Silisa_v
02 May 2026
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“Max,” George finally says, after silence has stretched on for a few seconds.
He takes a step closer. Max takes a step back.
“Hey. Come on,” George breathes, and stills, cocking his head aside as he takes in the distance between them. After a few seconds, he throws a hand forward, towards Max, palm open.
“I thought I was welcome on the Nordschleife,” Max mutters through gritted teeth.
“Well, you are, aren’t you? With open arms, I’ll add,” George smiles, bright and open, unguarded.
Max squints at him, nostrils flaring in annoyance.
Still, he reaches forward, after a beat of hesitation. His fingers have barely touched George’s palm before he’s pulled in, closer and closer until their chests touch, and George’s arms close in around him, hands landing at Max’s waist.
“You’re not making this easy for yourself, huh?” The words are whispered into his hairline, just as gentle hands brush up his spine, tracing a path to his shoulders.
Max doesn’t answer, though a sigh slips past his lips as he allows himself to rest his forehead to George’s collarbone, closing his eyes.
Or: George goes to comfort Max after Shanghai '26
Series
- Part 1 of Tumblr requests
Bookmarked by Silisa_v
01 May 2026
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“So,” Oscar huffed incredulously, “Just to be clear. You are saying I was bitten by a Spanish vampire outside a club in Miami, and that is why I feel like shit?”
Carlos grimaced. “Err… yes.”
“What the fuck. Carlos, what the actual- Is this a wind-up?”
or: the 2024 Miami Grand Prix was bad enough for Oscar before the vampires showed up.
Bookmarked by Silisa_v
01 May 2026
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“Well, nice to meet you officially then, Max,” George says as they step away.
For a brief moment, Max thinks this is it. He’s been unmasked, George knows who he is, finally remembers him. But when he looks up, the man is as surprisingly casual as he’s been since they got out of their cars, no recognition in sight. He sighs in relief, nodding as he watches how George offers his hand.
“Yeah. Nice to meet you, George Russell,” he mutters. He delights in the laughter it earns him, George’s palm warm against his own.
—
Jos Verstappen had a son. A gifted child, a prodigy, promised to a solid racing career- Until he vanished without a trace. Jos pretends the kid simply didn’t have it in him, lacked the drive, tells whoever will listen the boy bolted away as soon as he could.
Truth is, Max has been drifting aimlessly for years, since his father threw him out the door, and crushed any attempts he’s made to pursue his dream. He goes from place to place, race to race in underground circles, with no goal in sight but the next thrill to come. Until a chance encounter with two-times championship winner George Russell, who’s grown weary of being at the top of his game, changes things.
Bookmarked by Silisa_v
30 Apr 2026
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They signed it for convenience. It's near the university. But this arrangement with George is anything but convenient.
But he thinks that, if he ever had to live in a world where there were no skincare products from George by this counter at all, he would replace it with replicas and label them all as George's. Because there isn't a world without George living together with him, not right now, and he doesn't want to imagine it.
OR: Max has a really pathetic crush on George, his roommate, and takes forever to accept it.
Bookmarked by Silisa_v
22 Apr 2026