adochka
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Summary
Lando Norris is not a creep.
Really he’s not. He just wants to date his slightly younger fuck buddy.or
A glimpse into the messages between Oscar and Lando as Lando tries to win him over.
Series
- Part 2 of the tragic life of oscar piastri
- Part 2 of formula freaky
Bookmarked by adochka
12 Jun 2026
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“Come on, up,” Max repeats. “I can’t yell at you if you’re not looking at me.”
He keeps scratching at George's scalp, though, and it’s so relaxing that moving is currently dead last on the list of things George wants to do.
“Way to kick a man who’s already down,” George mumbles. This time, he actually lifts his head from the pillow, just a little, so Max can get the full effect of his contempt. “Even for you, that’s low, Verstappen.”
Bookmarked by adochka
09 Jun 2026
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“That was fucked.”
“Yeah. Yours, too.” George eyed him, the harsh lines around his mouth softening. “Still don’t believe in luck?”
What could Max say to that? Because whatever it was, this long string of complete and utter fuck-ups for them both since the season started, could completely be explained away logically. Mistakes happen. Engines fail. Science had its limits. Human errors, as it were, were aplenty. But George’s run—George’s run had been, without exaggeration, monumentally fucked, as if everything that could possibly go wrong did, and Max understood statistics, to a point, but even he couldn't help giving it a second thought.
But he wasn’t going to tell George that. Max continued to track the seagulls and the cormorants and watched them in their formations, and George finally commented, breaking the silence, “You’re into augury now, too.”
“The what?”
“Telling omens by birds.” The ghost of a smile passed through George’s face. “What? I can watch documentaries too.”
Post Monaco Grand Prix 2026. They're on a boat.
Series
- Part 2 of auspicia
Bookmarked by adochka
08 Jun 2026
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George used to be a great model. Used to be. He retired from that life to raise his son. No cameras, no unnecessary publicity, just a normal hoping to raise a normal kid. Unfortunately for George, his former agent really wanted him to do one more job.
Bookmarked by adochka
07 Jun 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
Bookmarked by adochka
01 Jun 2026