#anyways live laugh love landoscar

[th34rs0n1st]

as a lando and oscar fan, i fear its common sense for mclaren to prioritise lando. it doesnt mean oscars gonna put to the back burner forever, it just means that lando has the best chance at winning the wdc and in turn getting mclaren the wcc. oscar is still important to winning the wcc too tho but people are acting like as soon as lando is prioritised then oscar will never be in the points ever again

[its-all-papaya]

okay for the prompt ask game: landoscar, the most cliche thing: only one bed, and getting together - go!

only one bedddd MY LOVE. I ADORE making the boys CUDDLE.

tell me what you wish I'd write

I will set the scene: Lando and Oscar are in their second year as teammates, now, and they’re proper friends, right? Much closer than they were the year before. Time to…. meet the family?

snippet enclosed at the end under the break just fyi :,)

Meddling Nicole. We know now that she will canon throw her son under the bus and expose him for a little laugh. She also knows that Oscar has been maybe a little obsessed with Lando for years, and getting to know him as a teammate has not dulled Lando’s shine for Oscar at all. He’s actually worse. Tries to be really lowkey about it, not bringing up Lando too often, only mentioning him when he feels it’s relevant, but Nicole can tell by the change in his voice when he talks about Lando, the way he edges Lando into conversations he doesn’t really NEED to be in. Anyway. A few weeks ahead of the Australian GP she’s on a call with Oscar and is like “You should bring Lando round when he’s here, honey. Have him stay a night, we’d love to meet him properly.” And Oscar is like… oh. uh. Yeah. Sure.

In what world is Lando going to say no to Oscar on that when Oscar’s got his soft Lando Smile on and he’s like “just for a night, my mom really wants you to”?

The day after the race perhaps? Because Lando podiums and Carlos wins so they go out and Lando is perhaps a little hungover and cranky when he arrives, but immediately goes soft for Oscar. He’s headachy and tired and reaches for Osc as soon as he’s in the doorway, wrapping his free arm around Oscar’s back and resting in the hug for a long, long second. They’re speaking in soft little private voices to one another and giggling and Oscar is smiling his hopeless, besotted smile, and Lando’s eyes are sparkling even through the hangover exhaustion. And then “Lando, so glad you could make it!” and they spring apart and Lando rubs at his cheek with his palm and Oscar rolls his eyes at his mum and gives Lando a little squeeze around the wrist as apology.

“Let me take your bags, Oscar can show you around a bit and you can get some lunch in you.”

They’d hang out all day, maybe with Oscar’s sisters (who love Lando obviously bc they can all team up on Oscar together), perhaps kicking around outside or whatever.

Dinner has Meet the Family (tm) vibes where Oscar’s parents are quizzing Lando about his own family and racing and how Oscar is at work. And maybe there’s some food Lando doesn’t eat and he feels really bad and is stressed but Oscar is like “you don’t have to eat that. Mum, I told you Lando doesn’t eat seafood.” Very Romantic. Very Domestic.

Afterwards, they all convene in the living room to play a game or something and Lando doesn’t understand the rules and doesn’t have the attention span to learn so he’s like “I’ll just be on a team with Oscar.” Except he’s really just leaning into Oscar’s side, looking at the cards but mostly just Oscar’s hands, and watching Oscar play. Eventually he kind of catches the gist and makes a suggestion about something right at Oscar’s ear, lips brushing skin, and the move… works? And Oscar is like “thanks, mate” all soft and Lando is like “I’d say we make pretty good teammates, yeah? someone should hire us that way” and yawns and smirks at the way it makes everyone giggle.

Eventually Lando starts nodding off against Osc’s shoulder, everyone’s talking and laughter warm around him. After it sticks, Lando’s cheek smushed against Oscar’s bicep, Oscar’s hand curled around Lando’s knee, Nicole goes “you should take that one to bed, honey, he looks exhausted.” And Oscar is like… simply why would you phrase it like that? but “okay, is he staying in the guest room?” and Nicole is like “oh! did I not tell you? we’ve got your grandmother there. huh. could have sworn I told you this. I figured Lando could just bunk with you, hope that’s alright!” and Oscar is like... well. I’m not going to make him sleep on the COUCH 24 hours after a race.

So he wakes Lando up sooooo gently and Lando blinks soft and sleepy and a little frowny because he was cozy there, actually. And everyone else feels like they’re intruding, as is prone to happen around Lando and Oscar.

Oscar apologetic explaining the situation, but Lando just shrugs and stretches and follows him up the stairs, because it won’t be the first time he’s fallen asleep in the same bed as a teammate, probably.

Oscar’s childhood bedroom hasn’t changed much since he left for boarding school, and Lando perks up once they get there so he can poke fun of Oscar about the posters and the knickknacks on his desk. And Oscar’s blushy and laughing and a little defensive, but mostly just fond fond fond having Lando in this part of his life.

They brush their teeth side by side, elbows knocking, and it’s… so domestic. Overwhelming. Oscar is scared of how easily they move around each other, Lando’s hand on the small of his back as he sneaks by to grab his face wash from the bedroom where he’d forgotten it, Oscar handing over a towel to dry Lando’s face before Lando can even ask.

Oscar’s stressed that it’s going to be awkward when it comes time to actually get in bed, but Lando just tucks himself in against the wall and curls up on Oscar’s pillow. Oscar dilly dallies a bit, but Lando huffs and pats the bed and goes “Oscar,” drawing out the last syllable, “turn off the light and come to bed, I’m tired.”

Which. Does THINGS to Oscar. But Lando asked nicely, so he flips the switch and crawls in next to Lando.

They don’t touch at first. And Oscar’s bed is only a full, so it’s like… intentional. And that lasts a few minutes. But Lando whines and pats at Oscar’s side until Oscar says “what“ and Lando’s eyes are big and soft even in the dark and he says “‘m not very comfy” with a small little smile and Oscar is… only a man. So he lifts his arm up and lets Lando crawl happily under and settle against his chest with a contented sigh. And from there it’s easy to pet Lando’s hair and let Lando practically purr into his chest about it. SOFT. CUDDLY.

Lando falls asleep almost immediately because he’s still recovering from the night before. Oscar watches his eyelashes flutter prettily and toys with his curls and strokes the side of his cheek and just. Yearns. Because Lando fits so easily here in Oscar’s life. Everything felt so natural and right. Feels even more right now, with Lando in his bed, in his arms. So Oscar presses a little self-indulgent kiss to Lando’s forehead. Except the skin wrinkles beneath his lips and Lando’s fingers flex where they’re tucked against Oscar’s waist. Lando’s eyes crack open and he looks. so! soft! but Oscar’s heart is racing because he just really, really thought Lando was fast asleep.

SNIPPET‼️

Lando doesn’t look mad, but he doesn’t really look anything discernible at all in the dim light filtering through Oscar's window. Mostly he just looks sleepy. From a distance, Oscar hears the familiar sound of the air-con kicking on.

“‘s nice,” Lando says after too long, eyes fluttering back closed. There's a little smile turning the corners of his lips up and his nose twitches a little where it's rested above the collar of Oscar's loose pajama shirt. He doesn't normally wear one, but he'd figured, given the circumstances, that it would be best to.

Emboldened again, Oscar places another light kiss, just to the left of the first. Lando's smile grows with it, and he turns his face into Oscar's chest, like he's bashful about it. Oscar wonders, if he turned his bedside lamp on, whether Lando's cheeks would be pink with his attention.

"Keep going," Lando says. Mostly breath, eyes still shut.

"Yeah?" Oscar's not sure what they're doing, where they're going with it, but it's been 18 months and he hasn't learned how to say no to Lando yet, so he puts his lips next to Lando's eyebrow, on the bridge of his nose. He pauses after that, and when he breathes in, he swears he can taste his own toothpaste on Lando's exhale.

"Os-car," Lando sing-songs. Oscar doesn't think it's fair, how Lando gets to hide behind his eyelids while they do this. Whatever it is.

"Lando," he gives Lando a scratch between the shoulder blades, "look at me."

It's bolder than he normally is, bolder than he feels, still, but it gets Lando to crack his eyes open. Lando's still smiling, but it's a little tighter again.

Oscar's heart is beating hard. He remembers suddenly, absurdly out of place, that he'd lost his virginity in this bed. He thinks that was easier.

"Are we doing this?"

Lando's fingers twitch at his side. Oscar can't tell whether they're curling into his side or into Lando's own palm.

"I mean," he's at least properly awake again, "yeah. If you want to. I want to."

Oscar's pulse hasn't slowed down. It feels like a final flying lap, one shot to get everything just right.

"I want to," Oscar confirms, "But not just to do it."

"Like how?" Lando says. He props himself up on his arm so he's looking down at Oscar. Oscar's hand falls to the small of his back. Keeping him close.

"Like not just to kiss, or whatever. Like I want to because I like you. And you're important to me. So I don't want to make things weird if it's not like that for you."

Something changes in Lando's gaze, and Oscar thinks it should probably be a look he hasn't seen before, but instead it's familiar, the way it settles over both of them.

"Os-car," Lando says in that same tone from before, "I'm in your fucking twin bed. Your sisters added me to a group chat while you were at the bathroom this afternoon. I learned a card game for you." He lifts his free hand to run a thumb under Oscar's eye, "It's weirder that I've done all that before we got here."

Oscar thinks that's a yes, but he has to be sure, so he catches Lando's fingers in his hand and brushes his lips over them.

"So?" Oscar says.

"So," says Lando, "your mum is going to be so happy when you tell her."

Like qualifying on pole. Like coming home. Lando kisses him.

And then every member of Oscar's family teases them endlessly and it's sooooo fluffy and cute and domestic xoxo the end

[missnxthingg]

anyway, live love laugh landoscar

[landoscaring]

my thoughts on the 2024 qatar gp

what a fucking shitshow. sigh.

as is tradition, in no particular order:

1. i am proud of this weekend's strat by the team. yes, today's pit-call fucked oscar's race over, and yes, perhaps they should've known a safety car was coming, but i do think the fia's extremely careless waiting game made the team think it was not going to happen. anyways. oscar's radio sums it up pretty well (safety car! satefy car! fuck me. sweeeeet)

2. the annoying thing is we could've 100% won the championship today. the car was there, the pace was there.... we got fucked over, plain and simple. it's tough luck, yes, but also 100% on the race director's poor handling of the mirror situation. like, what the fuck was that

3. on a similar vein, lando's penalty was laughable. stop and go? 10 seconds? disgusting. yes, he deserved it. but a penalty that hadn't been used since like, 2021? harsh

4. i really avoid wearing a tin foil hat but... yeah, i've watched this sport long enough to know when the stewards are trying to manufacture a fight. the safety car timing + lando's penalty? hm

5. last but not least: fuck the fia. what the actual fuck were they thinking putting the drivers at risk with the whole not calling rhe SC in on time thing. it's not even about affecting the race result (which yeah, i'm glaring at you, charles leclerc) but actually putting their lives at risk

6. i have a bone to pick with Mr. FIA (i refuse to write his name because i hate him). today felt like a clear display of power after the comments he made earlier. so to him i say: fuck you

7. it would've been great to into abu dhabi without the pressure of the wcc on but alas, it is what it is. our car is competitive, and the track + weather should favor us, too. i have full trust in us winning it

8. i will continue to push my landoscar agenda all week on my x (same @) so if you want to have a laugh go follow me

anyways. we got LANDOSCAR CONTENT for months! lando paying back the brazil favor! LANDOSCAR SMILING!

a win, in my opinion.

lots of love to all of you 🧡

[strwbrryfire]

burning, burning, burning : winter warmers day 002

✶ prompts: evening fire | coming untouched

✶ ship: landoscar

✶ words: 1,288

The second that Oscar crosses the finish line, the perpetual third place haunting his back tyres, is when the idea begins to take shape somewhere in the recesses of his mind. And when he walks into the media pen to see the heartbreak that’s almost tangible painted on Lando’s face, is when Oscar decides to make the idea a reality.

And Lando, two weeks later, still has no clue what that idea is. He’s peacefully asleep, the passenger seat put as far back as it can go, curled up into himself desperate for warmth.

“I’m gonna take us on a trip, okay?” Oscar had muttered into Lando’s hair as he cried in the dim light of his driver's room, “Somewhere so far from here, dove. So, so far.”

Oscar had chosen Colorado, at the suggestion of Logan, who swore that the Rocky Mountains were stunning this time of year. Oscar watches the temperature on the dash sink lower and lower—he almost begins to regret his choice of getaway, until the cabin finally comes into view. It’s a cozy little thing, A-frame cypress nestled away in between white dusted trees and snow capped peaks stretching farther than Oscar can see. There’s the quiet rush of a half frozen creek once he steps out into the setting sun, the air so crisp it stings his nose with the first intake of it.

“Fucking hell,” Lando mumbles, teeth chattering as he climbs out of the car in a bleary haze, “D’you take us to Antar…Antarc—”

“Antarctica, and no, Colorado. We’re about an hour outside of Denver, I think. Absolutely no one here to bother us but each other,” he smiles, and walks around to kiss Lando’s rosy cheek, “It’ll be nice and warm inside, I promise.”

—

Oscar adds one last log to the roaring fire before curling up next to Lando on the bean bag he had dragged up from downstairs. They practically melt into each other, Lando’s humming almost lulling Oscar to sleep.

“Thank you for this, baby,” Lando says softly, setting his cocoa down in favor of pulling the younger boy onto his lap, “So sweet. How did I get so lucky?”

Oscar wraps himself around his boyfriend, burying his face in the crook of Lando’s slightly ugly fairisle sweater, “You deserve it after…everything. Just everything. I don’t think I’ve ever been so grateful for something ending.”

“Yeah,” Lando laughs under his breath, hands finding their way through the tresses of Oscar’s hair, “Danny told me to look at the positives, though…we had lots of those, didn’t we? So many times I got to see you looking all pretty up on that podium.”

“And you too,” Oscar grins, peppering kisses wherever he can reach, “Y’know how proud I am of you, right?”

Lando’s cheeks go all rosy pink again, “I don’t think we need to go on another compliment spree…I know, Osc. I know how proud I am of you,” a kiss to his nose, “How grateful I am to have you as a teammate,” another to a mole right above his lips, “And I know that I love you. More than I could ever say.”

“Sap,” Oscar snorts, watching as he idly traces the creases on Lando’s palm, “I’d love you more if you had these where it counted.”

It’s embarrassing, that Oscar is chubbing up in his joggers just because of all this talk of love and pride and whatever have you. It’s embarrassing that he gets hard simply because he loves Lando a little bit too much. That just watching the crinkles by his eyes when he smiles, hearing his laugh, or holding his freakishly big hands—it all sends Oscar down a road paved by horny teenage petulance.

“Yeah?” Lando smirks and gets that hungry look in his eyes, his tongue catching on the back of his teeth as he watches Oscar grind down mindlessly for any kind of friction, “Gotta keep you warm now, don’t I? Go on, get your kit off and get the lube. S’in the bathroom.”

Oscar whines in protest but gets up anyway, “Really? So far away?”

“You’ll live, baby, I’m sure. And no touching!” Lando calls out, biting his lip as he watches Oscar leave.

With each step, a layer gets discarded to be tripped over later, but Oscar finds what he’s looking for and makes a beeline back to where he fits best. Lando’s got his clothes off, his cock laying hard and leaking against his stomach, “See, that wasn’t too bad. Now come here, you sexy thing.”

Oscar laughs into Lando’s mouth, then licks into greedily, wanting and wanting and wanting. His heart feels like soaring when Lando’s hands find their way to Oscar’s ass, kneading and pressing in his cold, lube-covered fingers.

“Jesus,” Oscar moans, head lolling to the side, “I-Is it weird that I’m fucking obsessed with your, oh, with your hands?”

Lando hums, scissoring two fingers in and out meticulously, “Nah. I’m obsessed with yours, with how tiny they are. So dainty, you are—” his teeth find the mole on the right side of Oscar’s neck and he bites at the skin it lays upon, “Like stars, pretty boy.”

“Yeah, yeah, please,” Oscar’s pants, riding Lando’s fingers in a wild act of desperation. He feels tears welling up behind his blown out pupils as he begs, “Please, fuck me Lan, I need it so bad, please.”

“Precious boy,” Lando mumbles against the expanse of Oscar’s collarbone, gentle in his thrust into undeniable comfort that Oscar sinks into with ease, making a high pitched noise of content gratifaction. Oscar’s movements are immediate, desperate, with punched out little whines, “God, look at you. Proper crying for it, aren’t you?”

Oscar’s hair flops in front of his eyes as he frantically nods, “Always…so, s’good,” he hiccups on a sob and wraps his arms around Lando’s neck, gripping onto his own forearms for balance, “Big, so big and, and—fuck.”

Lando’s not even meeting his thrusts, just watching slack jawed and fuzzy brained as Oscar rides him so eagerly. The crackling of the fire, the way Oscar’s thighs meet Lando’s so perfectly, their breathy moans—Lando wishes he could bottle this moment up and listen to it whenever he wanted, “So fucking perfect, Osco. Pretty when you cry, baby, cause it feels so good, yeah?”

“Mhm,” Oscar whimpers, and rests his forehead against Lando’s, their hands on top of each other against Lando’s head of unruly curls, “Love you, ah—wan’you, just like this…forever, please.”

“Oh, precious,” Lando presses their lips together, all sloppy and uncoordinated, holding Oscar’s head like he’s the most precious thing in the world—because he is—and whispers in the sparks between their mouths, “I love you, too, Osc.”

And it's a second stretched into infinity—a pinewood haziness encompasses Oscar's brain as his breath is taken with smoke up the chimney. The night sky stars dance in his vision, imploding where his fingertips grip at Lando's hair. He attempts to gasp out Lando's name or a repeated expression of gratitude but it's all—it's all burning supernova euphoria through every neuron of his body. Oscar is shaking with it, the whimpers coming out as staccato notes of a symphony Lando conducts so beautifully.

Lando's hands encompass Oscar's wine colored cheeks, the cold a relief that almost snaps him back into reality, "Hah, baby…pretty boy, fuck..."

Oscar's floating with the electricity in his veins, a constant stream of whines like sparks out of his mouth. It crescendos as Lando meets Oscar's trembling thighs, filling him up with warmth and moans and missing breaths—Oscar is sure this is what happens when a galaxy is born.

[its-all-papaya]

If you need one word landoscar prompts: remote

from october 21.... hope this anon is alive on tumblr somewhere still... anyway. have some landoscar future winter fluff

The cabin is way-the-fuck-out-there, and Lando's not much for rustic vacations, but he trusts Oscar knows him well enough that he's not properly worried about it.

"Pick me up," he demands when they reach the porch.

"What?" Oscar stops messing with the key and turns to look at Lando with the same confused expression he's been using for years.

"You have to carry me," Lando whacks him on the chest. It'd be a pat normally, but he can barely feel body through Oscar's thick winter coat. Needs a bit more oomph like this. "Over the threshold, proper, like."

He lifts an eyebrow at Oscar, squinting in the low dying light of the sunset. They're going to have to start early in the morning if they want to do any sightseeing in the following days, the way that evenings come so early in the winter. Not that it matters; Lando's got everything he particularly wants to see right in front of him.

"Why not you carrying me?" Oscar gets the lock at last and shoulders through the door. Behind him, Lando can see high peaked ceilings, manicured wood, furry throws draped over the back of a tastefully rustic sofa. His grin ticks up in approval, even though he wasn't worried.

"Because you were never even gonna ask," Lando puts his hands on his hips. It still feels a bit weird on his hand, a weight he's not used to catching on the bit of webbed skin between his fingers. He wonders how it might feel under racing gloves. He wonders if anybody wears theirs that way, during races, wonders why he'd never thought to pay attention before it was too late.

Oscar's breath fogs between them. He looks funny all bundled up. His cheeks are impossibly pinker than they were even the evening before, all flush with champagne and sappy shit like eternal fucking love.

"Alright," Oscar drops his backpack just through the door and turns back with his arms out like he's bracing for Lando to jump into them without warning, "c'mere, then."

Lando slides his arm around Oscar's shoulder and yelps when he's swept up and off his feet, even though he'd been expecting it. They're both giggling immediately, caught up in the absurdity and the leftover mood from yesterday too, probably, stuck like the gooey bits of congealed champagne tangled in the back of Lando's hair where Oscar had missed it in the hotel shower. Distracted by other things.

(They'd laughed about it first, how routine it felt to scrub champagne from behind each other's ears, how it could be like any number of nights, any number of hotels, if they didn't think too hard about it.

"McLaren 1-2?" Oscar had joked. When he'd lifted his arm to shove drippy curls back off Lando's forehead, his left hand had glinted in the bathroom lights just like the shine off a trophy after all.)

Oscar doesn't drop him until they're halfway through the living room, dragging bits of snow all along the clean wood floors. He'd used the side of Lando's hip to bump the door shut, at least, so Lando has no qualms about wrapping his arms around Oscar's shoulders to keep him close when Oscar deposits him on his back on the sofa.

"Lemme get your shoes off," Oscar mumbles against his mouth. He's turning his chin every which way to avoid Lando's lips, but he dips his tongue out every time they catch anyway. "Gonna get the fucking sofa wet."

"Bet we are," Lando licks into the shell of Oscar's ear before he finally lets him up.

Oscar's trying to look unimpressed, Lando can tell, shaking his head and everything, but his eyes are all crinkly and fond as he wiggles each of Lando's boots loose in turn.

While he's at it, Lando props himself up on his elbows so he can swivel his head around and take in the place for real. It's cozier from the inside. Looks like something out of an AI Instagram ad trying to scam people out of their money - there's even a proper fireplace across the way from where they're at.

"What d'you think?" Oscar asks from below. His shoulders are drawn up just a little, one of his only anxious tells. He's got the heel of one of Lando's feet still cradled in his palm and he's massaging little circles into the arch like he's forgotten he's even doing it.

Lando swallows. Oscar shuffles forward just enough that he's properly between Lando's legs where they're hooked over the arm of the couch, and Lando thinks, realistically, that they're never going to get the bags out of the car if Oscar keeps batting his eyelashes from that specific position.

"S'nice," Lando grins. He splays his arms out like he's about to make a snow angel in the fur underneath him, "Real remote."

Oscar nods quick, "You said to pick somewhere where we wouldn't have to worry, wouldn't have to..."

He waves his hand vaguely. It's the one with the ring on it.

Lando catches the fingers between his own and uses them as leverage to drag Oscar back in over him, close enough to put his lips back on Oscar's, "It's perfect."

"Good," Oscar lets Lando kiss him this time, long and indulgent and so deep that their lips aren't even really moving at the end. "You deserve perfect," he adds when they've pulled apart to breathe.

"We," Lando nudges his middle finger against Oscar's wedding band where it's still tucked against against the joint, "deserve things however we want this week. S'the point of, like..."

"A honeymoon," Oscar says, so used to smoothing over Lando's gaps at this point that he just assumes that's what it is.

"Yeah," Lando agrees.

After he's kissed Lando just enough to sate him for the time being, Oscar straightens back up with a sigh. He bats at the grabby hands Lando immediately makes, that same crinkly-fond-unimpressed look back on his face, "Someone's got to go get our things. Unless you're planning to get back up?"

Lando drops back against the pillows in answer, "I guess they don't have people for that here."

Oscar snorts, "There's no other people, mate. Not for, like, a kilometer."

Lando swallows hard, knows it makes his throat bob in a way that interests Oscar, and then lifts his chin up to smile wickedly across his body at him - his husband.

"S'pose that means we can fuck against the windows later?"

originally from here if anybody cares hehe haha