ami_leedo
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This is a story about healing in small, ordinary ways. About beach days and hospital rooms, about newborn cries and late-night confessions, about hands that don’t let go when things get hard. It’s soft, it’s messy and full of love.
Series
- Part 1 of Fluffy stories
Bookmarked by ami_leedo
17 Jul 2026
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It makes him feel like he’s got a weird saviour complex.
The way he likes to imagine—the PR-clad princess would one day come sobbing to him and he’d lend his shoulder and Max would slowly fuck his misery out of him. He’d forget the wolves in his garage, ready to dig into his flesh and bones when he suffers an injury. Then, he’d give him the softest of kisses after, a soothing lick to his wounds and finally, finally , George would stay the night.
Bookmarked by ami_leedo
16 Jul 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 pareidolia
Bookmarked by ami_leedo
14 Jul 2026
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For King and Country (But Mostly For George) by serpentinerose
Fandoms: Formula 1 RPF, Men's Football RPF
12 Jul 2026
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“I just don’t like what you’re suggesting.” George feels a little faint. Because he’s quite a sharp person, actually, and is very much attuned to what’s lying underneath what appears to be the still surface of a conversation, no doubt thanks to every fragment of his DNA being shaped like tiny Union Jacks. “We are not Haalingham, or Heated Rivalry. How absurd.”
“Right, you’re Russtappen.” Oscar! Oscar of all people! Oscar the betrayer, Oscar Iscariot really, and George would never have suspected it. When every pair of eyes in the room turns his way, Oscar shrugs. “I read some stuff when I can’t sleep. It’s highly entertaining. George, did you know in this year’s omega ranking—”
“This year’s what?!”
The grid watches the England v. Norway FIFA 2026 match. The yaoi on screen is a lot and hits very close to home.
Bookmarked by ami_leedo
14 Jul 2026
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After a tough spar with neighboring club, the speed climbing club ends their day under the gleaming light of a nightclub. Max kissed somebody in the dark and that day has been sitting on his mind for way longer than it should be.
3363 fic // cameo! 23, 5, 814
I like using pictures for the texting partBookmarked by ami_leedo
14 Jul 2026