hoeforanakin

[hoeforanakin]

i could actually think about nicole and lando talking about oscar alllllllllll dayyyyyy

thinking about oscar saying that lando created the nickname osc but his mom literally also calls him osc so i wonder if his mom called him osc before he met lando and he just said it to please lando or the second, more devastating option, his mom got the nickname from lando

[hoeforanakin]

i work in a bakery and every single morning there's this old lady who comes in and requests an escargot "a well-done one, not a nasty pale one" and then glares at me like i was thinking of giving her a pale escargot. and also like i invented the concept of pale escargots. or like i baked all the pale escargots (im just sales staff yall)

i would say customer service fits my natural gifts of yapping endlessly and also flirting with every semi-hot man or woman that comes into the shop

[hoeforanakin]

i would say customer service fits my natural gifts of yapping endlessly and also flirting with every semi-hot man or woman that comes into the shop

[hoeforanakin]

I automatically picture u as daisy jones in my head I can't explain it

ooohhh i love you. when my post-high school glow up hit i used to think i looked like her a ton. i actually think we both just have blue eyes

[hoeforanakin]

it’s the gentle voices for me

time to revisit this video and unpack whatever the hell was going on here

[hoeforanakin]

he's pretending the drink bottle is uh. something of oscar's.

so i found the other angle of that picture

[hoeforanakin]

as an aussie this fills me with brightness and gratitude (as oscar's boyfriend would say)

"KF3 Race of Stars champion, Oscar, how does that feel?"

[hoeforanakin]

rainbows literal RAINBOWS on the sides it's all so queer are you fucking kidding me

Can we bring back these suits so they can look good in black and extra gay

Please? For me?

[hoeforanakin]

"brain empty, pussy thinking" but it's just lando norris pretending to be a chill straight guy

lando + memes in my folder 💅

[hoeforanakin]

"sorry for the rambles" after compiling the most wonderful beautiful list ever made. love ya tons!

hiiiii love what do u think are the top 5 best landoscar moments? like the oh fuck save it for the hotel room after when ur not on camera, guys type moments

hello lovely 🫶 i love this question! makes me go back through some landoscar moments and i always love going down memory lane! (also i wrote more than i expected so buckle up!)

to start off, we have my all time favorite moments that is the “i like your so kindness, too.” everything you could ever ask for from landoscar is summarized in this short little clip. like. oscar wasn't doing that for the media or for the cameras. he deliberately told the team to ignore him and focus on lando all the while looking at the aforementioned man with nothing but fondness and love in his eyes. he wasn't expecting the video to include him which to me makes the quote even more tender because it wasn't meant as a soundbite or anything, it was just meant for lando and oscar. and yeah. a soft hotel room moment, if you will.

up next, we have another moment that is also forever engrained in my mind, which is the whole of the wcc celebrations. lando and oscar telling netflix to fuck off because they're celebrating with their team? cunt. they said that this is not for the public cameras. and then don't even get me started on the pictures we got from this night. like they're definitely a "save it for the hotel room after when you're not on camera" type moment.

moving on, we of course have lando thanking oscar after his first win in f1. i spoke of how that moment seems to encapsulates their relationship and also if i could add to that, i would just like to uh, mention praise kink oscar coming in full force in that instance. like yeah, praise that man lando. thank him for your contributing to your first ever win in f1 when you know he had a less than stellar race and needed a pick me up. watch oscar preen from the praise. just. lando comforting oscar in the best way he knows how to when they have cameras in their faces and can't get too deep.

wow okay. this is getting way longer than i anticipated sorry! but moment four! this was actually so unhinged from oscar. the "i'm going to keep you happy" quote??? fucking insane. brain chemistry? rewired. life? changed. like that's rookie oscar letting lando dictate the rules to the game (when there are no rules to begin with) and bending ass backwards to keep his teammate happy. okay. the service top and bratty bottom is really coming into play here and let's just end it at that for now...

alas we arrive at moment five and it just has to be them going freak4freak. the infamous deodorant press-con. there's just no explaining this. lando's out here sniffing oscar and oscar's out here offering lando a better whiff. this right here is the definition of save it for the hotel room when there are no cameras. sniff each other in private.

honorable mentions below the cut!

- them being possessed by the imola couch. get a room.

- the miami couch. what is with them and couches??

- lando's obsession with oscar's bottom. again, get a room.

thanks for reading my ramblings! this got way longer than expected (and i can definitely go on for longer trust) but i hope you didn't mind my ramblings! and again, thanks for this ask!

[hoeforanakin]

they're insane. i can't.

the way he waits for lando to call him osc with the eyebrow raise, then proceeds to give the biggest smile when he does 🤨 i know what you are oscar piastri

[hoeforanakin]

like why did he. do that though.

unfortunately there is no heterosexual explanation for this

Lando Norris licks Oscar Piastri.

Watch without registration.

[hoeforanakin]

yall if this relationship doesn't work out you guys have no idea how hard im gonna nico rosberg

[hoeforanakin]

fun fact: oscar piastri will mention lando’s goatee no matter the occasion, without fail, without reason. he’ll shoehorn it into conversation. or bring up his own lack of facial hair just to let lando brag.

conclusion: he loves it. maybe he likes the friction burn when they kiss. these fucking queers.

[hoeforanakin]

"this fills me with brightness and gratitude"

lando: i grew up for many days...

oscar: many days???

lando: many days! and weeks! here in belgium

[hoeforanakin]

god this is just. i can't. i really can't deal with how much i love this, i really can't.

🤎 kisses all over for mermaid lando/oscar !

oh godddd spent the last hour or so in my lil salt skin world and now i am ready to go wade into the depths!!!!

prefacing this with i've never massively thought about the world after salt skin other than 'lando weirds out everyone in the paddock' so this is a bit plucked from nowhere and doesn't fully make sense (as with everything about the og fic...)

warning for all the usual evil siren related stuff like blood... references to tail fucking... deep sense of pain longing and a loneliness you can't shake even when you have a soul mate...

__________

Oscar’s not sure about it, when Lando asks to go back to the beach.

It’s been a long winter in Europe, weeks of cold weather with the heating on, Lando complaining every five minutes that the warm air is drying his skin out, slathering expensive moisturiser over his scars and hissing at Oscar whenever he tries to touch him. Spending hours sat on the floor in the shower with the water cascading over his back, wailing loudly in the same high pitch he uses when he wants to drive Oscar mad. 

“I need to feel it,” Lando pleads, sat between Oscar’s legs in the bath, cupping handfuls of water and letting it drain off the webbing between his fingers. “The rocks, and the sand.”

“There are rocks here,” Oscar whispers into the soft skin behind his ear, feeling for the patch of hard skin under his hairline that feels a bit like scales. “There’s sand here.”

Lando shakes his head, and Oscar knows.

The ocean is calling him home. ***

Oscar’s grandmother is happy to have them visit, makes up the spare room but tells Oscar they don’t need to use it, if they’re more comfortable out on the beach. Her and Lando share a look when she says it, and Oscar rolls his eyes.

“Sirens,” he jokes, and his grandmother laughs, something sharp and pointed, just like Lando’s. “You’re all the same.”

He buys camping gear from the Coles in town, a tent and some chairs and a little camping stove. They set up out of the view of the houses, behind a rise in the rocks. Lando isn’t satisfied, wants to be closer to the water, to the craggy pools they’d bonded in, but Oscar puts his foot down.

“We’re staying here.” 

Lando sinks down in his camp chair with a huff, but he doesn’t shrug Oscar off when he slips his upturned palm onto his lap, lacing their fingers together as far as they’ll go before their skin starts to pull and tear.

That night, Oscar vows to stay awake as much as he can, pressed close enough that he’s sure he’d feel Lando move. 

It doesn’t work.

When Oscar wakes up, kicking and grasping like he’s drawing at 3am, Lando is gone. ***

“Come back,” he tries shouting, feet heavy in the sand, phone torch illuminating the beach. There’s no storms this time, no heavy waves or lashing rain, just the dark, dark expanse of water lit up by the moon. “Lando, come back to me.”

He finds him on the edge of the rocks, legs dangling in the water.

In the shallows, he’s sure he can see movement, and he’s not sure they’re fish. Flashes of brilliant colours and the swish of hair under the water.

“You didn’t come when I called,” Oscar accuses, standing back so he doesn’t spook Lando. When he turns to look up, his eyes are darker and shinier than Oscar has seen them in years. It’s unnerving. “Lando, what’s happening?”

“It wants me back,” Lando spits, confirming Oscar’s worst fears. He wishes they’d never come, that he’d commanded Lando into the sea in Monaco, the freezing waters of the marina. “It needs me.”

“You’re not a mermaid anymore,” Oscar says lamely. “You haven’t got a tail.”

Lando slides forward a little, pressing his legs together the same way they do sometimes in the bedroom, when Oscar binds his legs and oils his thighs, slipping into the smallest of gaps like they’re back on the rocks, back here.

“If it can take it away,” Lando’s voice is confident, and Oscar reacts to it, leaning forward to hold him by the scruff of his neck, terrified of losing him. “It can put it back.”

“No,” Oscar’s voice catches, not its usual boom but quieter. He doesn’t have as much power here. “You need to stay with me.”

Lando turns, and Oscar can tell his fangs are a little sharper, his tongue slightly more pointed. He’s changing before his eyes. 

“You can come too,” Lando smiles. “It’s what I wanted, remember? You in the water with me. It’s what I planned, it’s what I deserve.”

Oscar falters.

He can’t pretend he doesn’t feel it too. A kind of swooshing in his stomach like he’s sea sick, prickling heat on his arms and legs that he knows would be soothed by the waves, a cloying sweetness on his tongue he could swill away with some salty water. 

It feels like waiting on the starting grid. The powerlessness that comes as the lights count up, and someone else holds your future in the palm of your hands as you wait, wait, wait for the moment to come to you. 

“No,” Oscar says, and Lando frowns, slipping forward. “Lando, I said no.”

Oscar sees the hands, the scrabbling claws that scratch at Lando’s legs. Even in the dark he can see the red dripping from the wounds, and it becomes clear as day.

The sea doesn’t want Lando back.

It wants to kill him. 

With all his strength, Oscar leans forward, wraps his arms around Lando’s slender chest and pulls. The talons of the sirens in the water scrape down, trying to grip him, but Oscar doesn’t just have the muscles he’s worked hard on with his trainer, he has something the sea gave him when it bonded him to Lando. The strength to drag, determinedly, even as Lando fights him, screaming at Oscar to let go, that if he loved him he’d go with him. Lando is bewitched, Oscar knows, as much as he knows that Lando could never understand what that feels like, used only to dishing it out himself. 

“Look,” he commands, as they inch further from the water’s edge. He can feel the power returning to his voice. “Look at them Lando. They’re trying to kill you.”

He can tell the moment Lando realises. Instead of scrabbling at his arms trying to pull them off him, he clings to them, begging Oscar to keep him safe. When he can, he hauls Lando into his arms, carrying him like he did that first time, hooked arm under his legs. Where they’ve been in the water, they feel oily like a fish. 

Oscar doesn’t say a word until he’s pulling back the door of the tent, dumping Lando down onto the air mattress. They’re both sodden, sweat and salt water.

“Do you see?” Oscar asks, covering Lando’s body with his, hands roaming to check every inch of him. His gills are as scarred over as ever, his feet just as formed, and Oscar knows he was right. “Do you see? Lando.”

Lando nods, and claws at Oscar, pulling him down like a weight, face pressed into the damp of his t-shirt.

“I’m sorry,” Lando moans, his voice softer, malleable and warm like the land. “I thought... I...”

Oscar shushes him. There’ll be a time for a conversation about this, a promise that Lando won’t do anything rash, but that moment isn’t now.

This moment is for Oscar’s hands to slowly strip Lando’s wet clothes from his skin, pressing his lips to every strip of skin he reveals, so relieved not to see the oily flick of scales.

“Mine,” Oscar says through gritted teeth. “Mine, Lando.”

“Yours,” Lando mumbles, as Oscar nips his teeth along his collarbones, mouths over the salt crusted hair in his armpits, the frozen peaks of his nipples.

“Yours,” Lando mumbles, as Oscar trails lower, mouthing over his scarred sides and the strong stomach muscles he keeps from swimming hundreds of lengths each day, the attendants at the pool in Monaco calling him fish under their breath. 

“Yours,” Lando stutters, when Oscar holds his cock, soft and limp, and mouths over the head, reminding him what Lando has because of him.

“Mine,” Oscar confirms, as he makes it down to Lando’s legs. His kisses burn Lando’s cuts, hissing breath every time he mouths along a scratch, blood covering his chin and the scruff of hair he’s not bothered to shave. It coats his teeth, until he knows he looks like a monster, lifting his head to grin at Lando, and remind him that if he wants something scary, a little unhinged, he can look a little closer to home. “Forever.”

Then he presses his lips to Lando’s mouth to seal it. Blood coating both their lips, another kind of bond.

The next day, Oscar tells his grandmother they’re leaving early, accepting the tupperware of treats she’s already made for them, as if she knew.

“Has he found what he came for?” she asks, watching Lando sitting on the wall outside, his eyes still trained on the ocean.

Oscar swallows, and nods, and as if he can tell, Lando swings his head around, peering through the glass at Oscar.

“Yes,” he says, kissing her cheek. “I think he has.”

[hoeforanakin]

what blows my mind about this is him TELLING OSCAR TO CONCENTRATE AT THE END. like i love a shamelessly hot man with zero self-respect and a great deal of willingness to tell his fuckbuddy to stop ogling him