#landoscar spin off

[fiveredlights]

for the wip game - landoscar social media INTRIGUES me because of oscar's (and lando's, honestly) general social media chaos. also hope you feel better soon! <3

there is a certain level of chaos that landoscar are able to create with their social media that i will never be able to replicate…

[Photo 1: A cliff face with the waves crashing across the rocks, with eight towers of limestone rocks staggered down the shore.

Photo 2: Lando in front of the Luna Park sign, a large face with its mouth dropped, where the entrance of the amusement park lays.

Photo 3: A low angle of Oscar hiking through the Australian bush, the sun reflects off the lens of the camera, creating a lens flare.

Photo 4: In the dusk, their faces lit up by a campfire as Oscar sits on a rocking chair on a veranda, Lando on the arm of the chair. Oscar has a hand on Lando’s thigh, Lando has an arm around Oscar’s shoulder, the other hand patting the top of his head.]

Liked by alex_albon and others

lando.jpg A wild Norris spotted in Land of Piastri

[nyoomfruits]

25, landoscar!

25. “Can I just keep you?” “It doesn't work that way.”

Oscar finds Lando on the curb outside of the club, hunched forward, a little ball of black fabric and curls. “Hey mate,” He says, stepping off his bike, parking it against a wall before making his way over to him.

“Bleh,” Lando says, to his knees. “Lea’ me ‘lone.”

Oscar nudges his foot against Lando’s thigh. “Can’t, unfortunately. Promised Max I’d get you home safe.”

Lando’s head shoots up, his eyes bright and mouth slightly parted. “Oscar?”

“Yeah, bud. Max called me, said he needed someone to take you home. You okay?” Oscar kneels down in front of Lando, eye sight. Checks him over. He looks okay, aside from being absolutely fucking sloshed.

“’M fine,” Lando mumbles, tips forward a little, towards Oscar. “It’s just. Everything’s spinning. Like. Fast. Sooooo fast.”

“Oh no,” Oscar says, rather deadpan, trying and failing to subdue the smile that tugging at his lips. He should be annoyed, maybe, about being dragged out of bed at 3 in the morning because his flat mate is ready to pass out in the middle of the street and there’s no one else to get him home safe. But like, it’s Lando. He hasn’t really figured out how to be annoyed at Lando yet.

“Yeah,” Lando says, miserably, looks up at Oscar with big, sad eyes. “Like those horses. That go in a circle. You know? They’re like on a platform and they just go weeeeee,” Lando makes a spinning motion with his finger.

“A carousel,” Oscar says, getting up and extending a hand towards Lando. “C’mon, let’s get you up, yeah? I’ll take us home.”

“Home,” Lando sighs wistfully, taking Oscar’s hand in his and letting himself be dragged upright.

And god, it gets Oscar every single time, how fucking beautiful Lando is. Even now, with his shirt buttoned up wrong and a mysterious stain on his jeans and his hair sticking to his forehead and his eyes slightly unfocused he’s the most gorgeous think Oscar’s ever seen.

Life would be so much easier, Oscar thinks, if he didn’t have such a truly embarrassing crush on his flat mate.

“Bike’s over there,” Oscar says, tearing his eyes away from the curl stubbornly stuck to Lando’s temple.

“Ah yes, take me to your mighty stead. Wait, actually, does that make you my white prince on a charming horse? Wait, no, white horse on a charming… No, that’s not it either.” Lando frowns deeply.

“Sure,” Oscar says, smiling fondly as he pushes his bike in front of Lando and Lando clambers on. “I’ll be you prince charming. Now please hold on tight, yeah? No ‘King of the world’ shenanigans like last time.”

“Boo,” Lando says, but dutifully wraps his arms around Oscar’s waist, slipping his hands into the front pocket of Oscar’s hoodie. “Nice. Hand warmer.”

Oscar merely rolls his eyes and kicks off the curb, ignoring the flutter his heart makes at the feeling of Lando’s hands on his stomach, almost burning through the fabric of his hoodie. There’s only a little wobble before he gets the bike properly going, getting better and better at biking places with someone on the back mostly because Lando doesn’t have a car and Oscar has a hard time saying no to him.

Lando lets his head flop forward, against Oscar’s back, sighs happily into the fabric of Oscar’s hoodie. “You’re the best, you know. Like, an angel. Prince Charming. Prince Angel Charming.”

Oscar snorts, steers the bike down the abandoned streets towards their apartment.

“I wish I could like, keep you,” Lando says, leaning his head on Oscar’s shoulder, his breath only inches away from Oscar’s face, brushing against his cheek with every exhale. “Like, make you small and put you in my pocket and then I could take you out if I was sad.”

Oscar shakes his head, smiles to himself. “I don’t think it works that way, mate.”

“Bleh,” Lando says, rolls his head off of Oscar’s shoulder and flops it against his back again. “The world sucks.”

“’M sorry,” Oscar says. He steers the bike into an alley, narrowly avoids a fallen over trash can.

“’S okay. Sucks a little less with you in it,” Lando mumbles into his hoodie.

Oscar smiles a little sadly. Lando says things like that sometimes. Most often when he’s drunk. It’s. Nice. But it’s not. He doesn’t mean it the way Oscar means it. Which is fine. Oscar’s made his bed and flopped the fuck down onto it from the first time he met Lando and thought oh. It happens, when you pine for someone who can have whoever they want.

But still. He wishes, sometimes. Hopes. It’s stupid, anyway.

“Yeah,” Oscar says, pulling the bike to a stop in front of their shitty little apartment, savoring the feeling of Lando plastered against him for one last second before they have to step off the bike. “Same.”

[ctimenefic]

I know the admins have probably already driven the joke into the ground but if anyone wanted a short meditation on Oscar Piastri, Charles Leclerc, daddy kink and a side of landoscar and carcar, boy, do I have that under the cut

Lando should’ve had enough of thinking by 1am on the Monday morning after the Monaco GP. There hadn’t been much to do but think during the race - ask about the gap to George, think, gain half a second on Carlos, think, catch a glimpse of the battle for 12th somehow two whole laps behind him, think. And in the end, cross the line exactly where he started, because it was fucking Monaco on zero pit stops, and Charles was never going to gamble, so neither could anyone else. 

Maybe it’s too much time spent playing percentages without ever taking a fucking risk, but as he flops back into a VIP booth he finds himself weighing the odds again. Charles is soaking wet for the third time that day - first champagne, second the harbour swill, and now some rank mix of vodka, sweat and liquid fucking joy oozing out of his with every flail. It’s disgusting and adorable and Lando will not be accepting any comparisons to Miami. Not home before sunrise, Lando reckons. Four piss-stop strategy, hah.

Oscar slides in opposite, a clutch of beers in hand, because he’s still super fucking awkward about bottle service at Jimmy’z coming via girls with tiny skirts, even though Lando has explained, like, four times by now, that is kind of the point of bottle service.  “Not taking a spin on the decks?” Oscar asks, because he’s secretly fifty years old. 

“Nah, tracks were mid. Not dancing?”

Oscar shoots a look over his shoulder at the increasingly large space around the second prince of Monaco. “Ah, no. Might’ve had a boring race but I don’t need to take my life in my hands.”

And that’s when it happens. The line just materialises in his brain, as instinctive as correcting for understeer. 

Not even with your new daddy? 

He barely gets ahead of it, teeth slamming shut after an inhale. And his brain starts racing, harder than he raced all fucking weekend. He’s got a rep for saying stupid shit off the cuff, but this one he thinks about. 

Maybe he says it, and Oscar snorts and drinks his beer, plays it off with a joke about his brother Leo, his uncle Arthur, whatever six new permutations of the joke have evolved as everyone with so much as a sniff at a paddock pass gets shitfaced in the same club.

Maybe he says it, and Oscar’s eyes widen, too taken aback to laugh, but weirded out, and there’ll be a few stilted messages before Montreal wipes the slate clean. And Lando will play things straight, in all senses, til at least summer break.

Maybe he says it, and Oscar’s freckles disappear into the flush across his cheeks. He’ll dart another look back at Charles, shove his beers into Lando’s reach, and stride across the dancefloor to Charles and Carlos and Pierre. He’ll get his hands on Charles’ shoulders to steady him, when he beams back drunk and sloppy, and he’ll share some twist on Lando’s joke, wry and quiet and yet perfectly clear over the thump of what is objectively a mid remix. And Charles will listen and blink as the words leak through to what little remains of his conscious brain six hours after the fucking win of his life. Maybe then he’ll laugh, so loud Lando can hear it, and Carlos and Pierre too, and Oscar will look back at him and grin and sure, the remix is mid, but Lando kinda wants to dance actually. 

Maybe Charles won’t laugh. Because that’s another set of odds - Charles isn’t going home alone, he’s going to slip-stagger through the streets that love him in someone’s arms, maybe many someones. Maybe Charles won’t laugh, but he’ll hook a sweaty elbow round the back of Oscar’s neck, and get a grip in Oscar’s hair, and they’ll dance like they just got 1-2 in Monaco. Lando will be stuck in the fucking booth watching as Charles’s bracelets catch the lights when he winds his arms round Oscar’s neck, catch the flash of the stupid sponsor watch when Oscar puts a steady hand on his waist. And he can’t read lips, can’t know, but Oscar will lean close to say something in Charles’ ear, and Lando will know it’s “Daddy” a few hundredths before Charles gasps.  And it’ll be too public, Jimmy’z on a fucking GP Sunday, Carlos might let Charles burn alive but Pierre’ll keep it clean, but Lando will know, Charles will know, Oscar will know - il predestinato and the rookie who could, on a fucking collision course. 

Or maybe Charles won’t laugh, and he’ll get a grip in Oscar’s hair, and Oscar will lean close, and Pierre will steer them to the door, pull in George and Alex to run interference, because they understand appearances, and Charles will take Oscar back to his flat, the only place any of them have in Monaco that feels truly like a home (no offence to Kelly, but her decorating is straight out of Pinterest’s Most Wanted). Oscar’ll fit there, among the knick knacks and family photos and all the shit Charles still has because he didn’t move every six months of his teens; Oscar’ll earnestly compliment some quilt or throw that was made by Charles’ 107-year-old grandmother and Charles’ll look at him with those huge doe eyes, and the fog of alcohol will clear but the intent will still be there, hot and possessive. Maybe Oscar doesn’t need to call him daddy now because Charles is smart enough to see a trophy when it’s in his hands. So he’ll press him up against his piano because what neighbour is going to complain about noise the night Monaco’s man won the GP, even if chords turn to the half-shouts of a beautiful boy being fucked out, the squeak of sweat-soaked skin on polished ebony. Lando will wake up with his mouth tasting like death and a short message letting him know he’ll be alone on the McLaren jet, unless he offers George a lift, and he’ll have to decide what’s worse, styling it out or feeling George look at him every few minutes, long fingers on the executive-suite sick bag they hide down the side of the seat. 

But maybe Charles will laugh, and Pierre will laugh, but Carlos won’t. Carlos’s jaw will work like he’s taking a grid place penalty for a racing incident, and then he will laugh, but low, mocking. Osc’ll turn, already annoyed, shoulders rising, but Carlos will drop a lazy hand on the nape of his neck and squeeze as he gestures with the other, back and forth, a two-fingered point and shake at Charles, then tapping twice on his own chest for emphasis. He’ll tug Oscar in closer, and there’ll be some of their usual animosity in it, too much strength, Oscar’s chin tilted forwards. Carlos will set his mouth against Oscar’s ear and say “he can’t be your daddy”, or whatever, the smooth operator equivalent, except Carlos is never smooth, just raw and fucked up and hot enough to blast through anyone’s higher brain function. So Oscar will follow when Carlos saunters out, and only someone who knows him well will be able to see beyond that blank expression that he’s practically shellshocked. Carlos won’t notice; Carlos will take him to a hotel room, tease him about putting him on his knees in the parking garage, in the elevator, somewhere where the cold could seep through Oscar’s unbearably thin trousers, but only really send him down once they're behind a locked door with plush carpet underfoot, because Carlos is a bit of a bastard but really good at casual, considerate without it coming across as anything so frightening as real feelings. He’ll tell Oscar to say it again, say it until he’s hoarse, and if Oscar chokes on the word that’ll be nothing to Carlos’s dick, not when Carlos has something to prove and three hours of staring at Oscar’s rear wing to motivate him. And Lando won’t fly out alone, but Oscar’ll be quiet and rumpled and he’ll ask for extra lemon in his fucking ice water and that’ll be worse, so much worse. 

So maybe he doesn’t say it. Maybe that’s it, and they dance and they drink and nothing changes. Seventy-eight laps and he finishes where he started, Oscar one position out of reach. 

Or. 

Or he says it, and Oscar says, “What.”

He says it, and Oscar says, “Sorry, repeat that?”

He says it, and Oscar says, “I don’t think you want me calling Charles daddy.”

He says it, and Oscar says, “Say that again. No, just the last word. Say it to me.”

And Lando will- he’ll- he’s going to-

His race stutters out. He blinks, and the mid remix hits the chorus again. 

Oscar’s looking at him, a half smile on his face. Slightly expectant, like he’s learnt to anticipate one of Lando’s jokes. 

Lando opens his big fat mouth. 

[bright-and-burning]

✨✨positivity chain! tag some of your favorite creators (artists, gif makers, writers, etc) and say what you love about them. Share with as many people as you’d like✨✨

oh man. doing this off the top of my head is so much pressure... any friends left off this list it is wildly unintentional and i am so sorry <3 this is gonna be super landoscar & co heavy. u kno how it is.

writers... well can i say everyone? truly. off the top of my head... @freeuselandonorris for the ability to get me interested in (or at least reading) Anything, @monacotrophywife for the funniest craziest concepts that spin out into deliciousness every single time, @vroombeams for the guaranteed gut punch no matter the length, im going to run out of unique ways to compliment my friends' porn i cant lie. @ocontraire who wrote THEEEE comfort fic of all time 2 me (little renaissance my fucking beloved),

@glasscushion and @strawberry-daiquiris who BOTH span the gamut of making my brain turn into sludge and also making me tear up abt being in love w ur best friend at christmas (what an odd venn diagram overlap), @foggieststars whose burning up fic i have (according to ao3 history) read 23 times (and who matches my freak like no other), @wanderingblindly for the sheer variety, @miamimaiden for the incredible aus,

@piastriachios for the bonkers-inducing markoscar, @chelemlem (dynamics that make u crazy fr). ok im cutting myself off. wait actually for some not-as-landoscar-centric writers i love: @leclercenjoyer (technically. Yet.), @userkritaaay (manifested jack's seat w the french-australian diplomacy project fic series and i am only half joking), @wormeo-and-juliette (funny and hot fic. queen of ensembles and large casts),

@landoisokay (whew. WHEWWWW. norrussell legend but also in general fic that leaves me dumbstruck), @wewentcarracing (lance expert and also prose expert), @alxalb (porn and awkward feelings alike that have had me face plant into my bed to recover). many many more that i am sure i am forgetting, i feel like im giving an oscars speech and theyre trying to play me off

artists!!

@dumbf1sketches (who i could not for the life of me remember the url of. tumblr should know who @.brid is), @udonli (drew me in w '''poorly''' drawn piastri on stats notes and now has me hooked for life, something so incredibly apt 2 me abt oscar drawn on grid paper), @roosterhouse (COMICS OF ALL TIME. theeee narrative artist to me like im beyond obsessed), @unknownaster (very warm art of my fave guys!!), @kichona-s (the lemon landoscar lives RENT FREEEEE the little x faces omg. cutest little guys on the planet).

for the more graphics-y artists, you cannot go wrong w @argentinagp (gifs also!!!!) and @alpinelogy <3 coolest posters on the internet honestly.

gif makers:

@insideparcferme (excellent compilation-y gifposts), @cuthechicane (always capturing moments i miss on broadcasts), @blueballsracing (variety act!), @oscarcito (always ready to provide oscar in 4k), more that i am for sure forgetting but these r people whose urls i remember seeing next to gifs in the last day!!

renaissance people:

@piastrisms gifs and fic both god tier!!! magical realism and tenderhorny pwp (occasionally w plot!) what more could u want from a writer. and @mecachrome THE triple threat of all time... art that feels like summer, gifs that feel like a cool + refreshing drink, fic that feels like the perfect sweet treat!!

i am so so sorry to whoever i have forgotten (or if ive forgotten you also make x but i only have you under y, my memory is full of holes), i am so lucky to know so many cool people but that makes it so much harder to list everyone off!!!!

[its-all-papaya]

out of fic scope but landoscar with teenager emma? Hehe

surprise u didn't know it but u assigned me a to-do list thx anon!!

assign me a chore!! (or just send me an ask and i'll assign myself tbh)

nothing is out of fic scope at this point, it's like a 100k universe in my brain that includes the original chaptered fic and like 50 spin-offs. it's really out-of-hand.

anyway, i was thinking about this this morning on my commute but i wanted to force myself to do a chore before answering, so i've been pondering this one all day.

my original thought was oscar's going to race until his mid-to-late 30's at least probably, so Emma will be a teenager and he'll still be in F1. so then I was thinking about emma in the paddock, because i was like she'd DEFINITELY be a social queen (she's lando's daughter) so everyone would have known her most of her life, it's like a second home and she loves going to races whenever she can. and then i was thinking about emma loving the paddock back, and i was like... you know what makes sense in my brain? emma who LOVES f1 and always has, whose most important influences and parent figures (other than actual bio dad obvi) all lived and breathed it her whole childhood, who is probably fascinated by the details and intricacies. so anyway, emma who wants to study to be a race engineer or mechanic. right? like she loves chatting with oscar's pit wall and looking at data with them and talking with osc after races about the strategy and his decision-making process and oscar obviously loves it too, because he loves racing. and lando LIKES f1 and UNDERSTANDS f1 because he karted as a kid, but he's not deeply fascinated by race craft the way emma is. so we get individual special bonding between teenage emma and oscar that they both cherish.

anyway, outside of that, she'll be a teenage girl, so she'll definitely have her moments of drama and irritation and freezing her parents out, but she loves them both deeply and admires them as people. probably embarrassed by lando around race weekends bc she wants to be seen as grown up and mature, so she'd be a bit of an asshole to him sometimes. obligatory "you're not even my legal parent, stop telling me what to do" to oscar when he's asking her to do her homework or telling her she can't go out alone with a date to an event at 11pm. but yeah. mostly just growing pains. not having a female figure in the house with her is really frustrating to her sometimes, like she probably cries when she's having period cramps and doesn't have a mom to help her, but it's passing. she's close with lando's mum and maybe pietra a bit, or one of lando or oscar's sisters. still likes to cuddle with one of her dads when she's sad or sick. i'm undecided if she'll ever call oscar "dad" or an equivalent moniker or just "osc" forever, but she definitely THINKS of him as her second dad from the time she's like five or six. so yeah. normal teenage stuff.

thanks for asking!! i loved thinking about teenage emma.

[wanderingblindly]

i see landoscar in this image don’t ask me how or why! (also i promise i’ll get round to ur lovely ask for my prompt one day awagrgh)

LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS PHOTO OH MY GOD!! very much fits into this au i've been turning around in my head like a microwave, oscar as a photography student and lando as his muse (set at the university of washington for,,,, reasons)

pls feel free to submit more fun photo prompts!!

Strangers (Lando Norris/Oscar Piastri, 600 words, drabble)

Oscar pulls in a deep breath, the autumnal chill burning on the way down; it makes him cough, nearly knocking him off his unsteady, drunken feet. The green around him spins – it’s too fucking green in this state –, the forest in the distance black under the moonlight. It would be beautifully eerie if Oscar’s world didn’t feel tilted on its axis, if he couldn’t still hear the distant thumping of a club remix that would have been outdated in 2012. 

He walks away from the house slowly, shuddering as a damp breeze grazes his skin. That’s another thing, it’s never really dry here – constantly drizzling, constantly misting, constantly green. Spongey. Wrapping his arms around himself tightly, Oscar steps off the pavement and into the road, a quiet neighborhood street that’s wider than anything he ever saw back home. 

Nothing here is like what he’s seen back home, really. 

With a heaving sigh, breath ghostly white in the moonlight, Oscar sits down on the curb. He can see the gentle mist, nothing more than static suspended in the air, as it drifts in the beams of the moon, the warm glow of the streetlights. Like a mix of silver and gold, Oscar takes in the lights around him – dividing the night into two different worlds. 

It’s finally quiet, the rumblings from the house party just far enough away that he can tune it out. If he strains, he can hear the faint rustlings of evergreen needles in the woods, the gentle brushing of barren deciduous trees’ branches. And footsteps behind him. 

A man comes to stand in front of him, a soft head of curls and full, feathery white wings illuminated from behind – the golden light of the streetlamp like a halo, the full moon overhead like a wash of purity. Oscar stares up at him, the angel, and takes in the way the lights play with the sharp angle of his cheekbones, highlighting his collarbones through his sheer shirt – growing damp in the midnight mist.

He looks down at him as Oscar continues to look up, chin tilted back to take him in – mouth hanging slightly agape. 

“Youuuuu –” Oscar starts, the word coming out misshapen on his tongue. The angel smiles down at him, the sharp curve of his cupid's bow making it look like a heart. Oscar’s never seen anyone, even anything, look so ethereal. 

“Cat got your tongue?” He laughs, accent sounding closer to home than anything he’s heard since he moved. The angel reaches out with sure hands and plucks the cat ear headband off Oscar’s head, placing it on his own with a wink. It nestles perfectly in the home of his curls, that part of Oscar. 

“You – can I –” He tries again, eyes caught in the confusing kaleidoscope of the angel's eyes. “For class, can I? Pictures. Of you.”

“You an art kid?”

Oscar nods, words dying in his mouth as the angel raises a brow at him. His wings ruffle in the breeze, almost like he’s agitated at the suggestion. The moment of silence stretches on between them, Oscar desperately trying to remember the way the light casts delicate shadows under his eyes and the angel looking down at him. Contemplating, maybe. 

“Let’s make a deal.” He says, reaching his hand out again – running his fingers through Oscar’s hair like he’s done it before. “If you remember this, if you ask me again, then yes. Ok?”

Oscar lets his head lull back completely, like the angel’s hand snapped it back. “Anything.”

“Right, no need to be weird ‘bout it.”

[inchidentally]

just curious, was that what you were referring towhen you said you made yourself sad?

yep ;__;

I'd kind of gotten suspicious when I saw Caco grabbing Lando after his fan track walks, making sure there were tons of photos of Lando with Carlos Sr and Jr after basically nothing for so long. bc Team Sainz is on PR overload (understandably) to push for that RB seat. then the box challenge with the absolute swamp of cameras as if Max were giving a press release and it all kind of took the shine off of it. Carlos planting the carlando breakfast in his interview and then it turning out to be bait footage for Lando's ad for his dad's electric scooter company was just a bit too much for me lol (this even carried on a couple races later when Carlos Sr filmed a bit with Adam and the scooters and even Adam seemed a bit baffled by it)

I'd already been losing the interest in carlando as rpf since apart from the bromance it was mostly down to larrying degrees of slowing down footage to look suggestive and spinning "rumors" into fact and seeing brotherly affection as them being horny or romantic blah blahhh. that combined with how cynical the sudden carlando influx has been -and after I'd had anons complaining that carlando never interacted even online for so long! - I'm not interested in being in the larry equivalent ship anymore.

and every time I post the reality of how sweet it is that they call each other brothers and that Lando will still scramble after any invitation for golf with Carlos or to do the driver's parade with him (even if it was mostly Lando making the effort to seek him out over the past two years which has been hmmmm for me but ok) and like, them actually feeling so comfortable that they can do the gay jokes and laugh lol. but the desire to see them in a Harry and Louis conspiracy theory of barely suppressed romantic love is honestly the only thing ppl want to see.

and thing is that's what I love posting about most with landoscar is the reality of how Lando has no poker face and he's worn exactly how his evolution of being intrigued and then interested and then incredibly fond of Oscar right there for us to see! and Oscar is duh completely ready to change half his life for Lando's whims and Lando can be as bratty as he wants and Oscar just smiles and gets a dimple. like, they're such sweet boys figuring each other out slowly and none of that needs to be turned into anything fake to enjoy it! no women need to become beards or decoys!

sure I could whip up some theories and rumors and try to force it to be a secret forbidden relationship and pretend that girlfriends exist as open relationships to cover for the secret gay relationship etc etc etc but I literally despised 1D fandom and larry fandom w every fiber of my being so nope !!

exeunt me from carlando fandom aslfhslajffhlaf

I still find the actual friendship sweet and I'm still writing a whole ass carlando part to my f1 royalty au! but that's just for my own enjoyment <3

[fiveredlights]

wild card for one that hasn’t been requested but you wanna do or any idea you wanna share!!

going to do moon song because it is definitely in contention for my favourite fic child and the landoscar spin off because it is hitting another level of craziness

moon song

(nina is max's new wife, this takes place at their wedding.)

“Were you and Max…God, I really hate to ask—especially right now, but I don’t think I’ll get another chance—were you two ever more than just friends?”

“I don’t think you should hear this from me Nina.”

“Please. You and I both know he won’t.”

“Fuck,” he laughs humourlessly, blowing air out of his lips. He's glad they’re outside in the dark, so Nina doesn’t have to see all the horrible faces he’ll make. “Yeah. We were.”

He pretends not to hear her inhale sharply.

landoscar spinoff

oscarateone

nicole piastri found shaking her head in disappointment somewhere in melbourne after finding out her son proposed by saying “catch”

#nicole probably: i raised you better than this #what happened to just getting down on one knee like a normal person #granted these f1 drivers aren’t normal #which driver gave him the idea to say catch

10,814 notes

[maaxverstappen]

hear me out …. a landoscar help me hold onto you spin off

[fiveredlights]

galex social media?

georgerussell63 23m

[Photo: George wearing a green hoodie, sitting in a dimly lit booth. There’s an ice cream sundae on the table in front, and it has a sign saying “Happy B’day!” stuck in the middle of the ice cream. Text reads: Thanks for all the birthday wishes everyone! Eating some birthday ice cream to celebrate 💚🍨] 

—

twentythreesixtythree

two things: i don’t think i’ve ever seen george wear a hoodie and that is alex’s hoodie from his aa23 clothing line. so that’s certainly something to think about. 

#you don’t even need to come out these days just wear your partners merch/clothing line #and we’ll know #congratulations to alex and george 

984 notes 

emotionalsupportredbull 

“you very famously liked another teammate so much you married him don’t cry in my comment section 😑” alexander albon potentially -russell you are right and you need to humble him again 

#max: and so did you hey daniel why are you taking my phone away DANIEL 

239 notes

[fiveredlights]

Pump the brakes

Inception but F1??!!?!?

I am VERY intrigued

inception au! so many possibilities! so much potential for angst!

tw: gun violence

“This isn’t real,” Max whispers and Daniel shakes his head. The grip on his forearm is wrong, the curls in his hair are too tight—and he’s too tall, but a part of him could live with this. Maybe he could trick himself with being okay with this.

There’s a gun in his hand now and he brings it up to Daniel’s forehead. If he made any indication of the gun to his head, Max didn’t notice.

The first time Max brought a gun to Daniel’s head—Real Daniel—had complained that the metal was too cold and Max had been momentarily thrown off, enough for Daniel to grab the gun out of his hand and tackle him to the ground, the weapon now pointed at his chest.

They’d fucked for the first time after that.

This Daniel is still looking at him, and Max doesn’t understand it. He knows all of Daniel’s expressions, has them catalogue in a neat box filed DANIEL—FACES in his brain and the fact he can’t read it is probably another indication.

He’s not real.

Daniel is not real.

This is a dream.

He’s not real.

Daniel is not real.

This is a—

“I love you,” Daniel says, voice shaky. His eyes haven’t left Max’s, and the room is silent—except for their heavy breaths, synced up like everything else about them.

Max shoots him in the head.

[fiveredlights]

whatever the two people at smosh (courtney and shanye) are doing to hard launch their relationship/wedding on april fools causing their fans to do a complete 360 into figuring out if it’s real or not will be immensely more funny than anything i will ever write

[fiveredlights]

FIC MASTERLIST

completed

there’s glitter on the floor after the party

↳ fic | rambles | asks | deleted scenes | commentary

please don’t ever become a stranger (whose laugh i could recognise anywhere)

↳ fic | rambles

fool me once

↳ fic

takes one to know one

↳ fic | rambles | extended author’s note

currently releasing

old habits die screaming (4/5; ETC: late sep)

↳ fic | rambles

production

untitled galex spin off

↳ rambles

glitter on the floor sequel

↳ rambles

takes one to know one [REDACTED]

↳ ???

secret husband/wine guy daniel

↳ rambles

pre production

vcarb burn in hell you too redbull

↳ rambles

daniel retirement fic

↳ rambles | loml snippet

squeeze my hand three times in the back of the taxi (glitter on the floor bonus)

↳ rambles

inception maxiel au

↳ rambles

production hell

moon song

↳ rambles

max at daniel’s farm

↳ rambles

cancelled

landoscar GOTF spinoff

↳ rambles

[its-all-papaya]

🛏️ it's sheet changing anon again! we love fresh sheets in this house!! (almost like a tyre change haha, can'tgo too long with old ones!) and i'd simply like to know what other ideas (next to the dad!lando one) for drabbles or fics you've currently got running around in your brain?

clean sheets anon i would be lost without you ♥️ we've been through so much together that i'm now back to the original set of sheets i took off with the very first chore time day... profound.

assign me a chore!!

okay, yeah, i mean... i've got a lot goin on up there for sure. i've got all these fkn wip's that never get done and occasionally a mutual (ahem. charlie.) will put another idea in my head that requires attention, so we just keep opening word docs around here. i've also got like eight kiss prompts in my inbox still, but none of them are speaking to me and after the honestly kind of unhealthy writing process of gentle with the ache, i'm in a period where i'm not really trying to make myself write anything that isn't like... REALLY begging in my brain to be written. because of that, i'm not making huuuuge meaningful progress on anything (other than dad lando which has activated a part of my brain that i didn't know existed).

that's not rlly what you asked though! what ideas are running around my brain? dad lando aside, the wip that is eating my brain space is a secret project that's been in progress for like... a month? i think? but bc ur so kind to me, creating circumstances that allow for me to sleep in clean sheets, i'll lyk that it's a full-length version of this drabble from august. i was planning to just surprise drop it for y'all bc i was COOKING on it for awhile, but then gwta and my REAL STUPID JOB took up a lot of time. and now she's kinda playing second fiddle to dad lando too. maybe now that you know, it will motivate me to make actual moves outside of like 100 additional words every random tuesday though. it's very cute, i'm very excited, i've been calling her 'meet the piastris' to charlie, she's like 6k already, like... ig i'm just in my domestic landoscar era, bc scenes from this bad boy haunt me when i'm commuting or zoning out at work or w/e. but yeah. other than passing whims, like the consideration of a third soft, fond, obvious fic, that's what spins in my brain when i'm bored and indulging the landosc fantasies lately.

ty ty ty as always!!