#the one and only rpf

[kolbalissh]

the REAL ferrari couple charlos can cry me a river

[formulanni]

I should start drawing F1 photos like 90s movie stills…

Taglist: @st-leclerc @rubywingsracing

[fairylando]

what i actually mean when i say "i watch f1"

[xieliansbignaturals]

I love how Hua Cheng got out of Mt. Tonglu and was like, My signature color will now be the color of wedding robes. I will always be ready to marry His Highness at a moment's notice, just in case.

[star-felled]

various textposts i certainly have made today

[awsugar]

i can't sleep my brain and body have been all fucked up this week and i'm laying here at 430 being so PLAGUED by the fact that my life's 3 main hyper fixations have been mcr spn and dnp and not only that but the fact that fiction as a whole will never have anything like destiel again, the internet will never reproduce something like phan. celebrities will NEVER be able to do frerard again. i'm not insane. these are the big 3 and not just because these are my favorite things. there are endless amounts of ships and pairings and fics and lore but literally. the specific experience of living through all of these in one lifetime. no one else will ever have that...except us

[wisteriagoesvroom]

For the trope mashup thing whatever: arranged marriage and neighbors 👀 - CX

again not one i would've picked but thank you for prompting it !! this also uh, got longer than i thought.

(from the prompts mash up - still taking submissions)

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“What do you mean your visa’s running out?” Lando asks.

“I’m Australian. Not a magician. Commonwealth only gets you so far.” 

“I thought you were here on a scholarship.”

“Well. Yeah. But scholarships stop. Once you graduate.” 

Lando toes the doorway rug. It feels weird to be talking about this in the middle of the hallway, though the only other person who would be listening might be Mrs. Kapoor, and half the time it’s only because she sticks her head out to ask if Lando or Oscar would take one of her mystery vegan curries. Lando is neither a huge fan of vegan food nor curry, and he trusts Oscar’s word for it that it’s good because they eat it while playing Gran Turismo at Lando’s place. But Lando always accepts the curries nonetheless, because his parents raised him to be polite, and he wasn’t raised in a barn. (Even if he technically grew up in converted farmhouse in the countryside, but that was besides the point.)  Either way, this is slipping away from him much quicker than he’d anticipated. Late night hangouts, dropping mail and post-it notes, text messages about the community garden. The most inane smalltalk about things big and small from the origins of moths to whether aliens were out there or just chose to ignore the +44 area code. Oscar always laughing in the right places when Lando regales him about tales of his terrible online dating stories, Oscar always picking the pickles out of the roast beef bagels before he passes one to Lando. The corner of Lando’s sofa that Lando has started to think of as Oscar’s because he’s there so often, reading one of his books or trying to speedread a JSTOR article about the lifecycle of urban pathogens while Lando worked on artwork for his upcoming store launch. 

Lando’s synapses are firing too fast. His brain did that most days, and that was what made him exceedingly good at his job, and today in particular - it doesn’t feel like there’s any logical way out. 

Lando remembers that movie they watched once though. As a joke. The one they both pretended not to enjoy, with Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds in Alaska. The one they watched when Oscar sat next to Lando on the sofa, and they both pretended the entire night that their knees weren’t touching. 

His therapist said he had a tendency to get ahead of himself when under stress. But it’s a joke, it’s not serious, there’s no way—

“We could just like, get married.”

Lando shoves his hands in his pockets. That came out way more calm and cooler than he thought it actually would.  And to his credit, Oscar doesn’t drop his mug of tea. Lando knows that’s his favourite one, because Lando got it for him, and it says Science is my superpower. Oscar does, however, slightly shift his grip on the mug.

“I feel like it’d be complicated to explain to my mum why I randomly married my upstairs neighbour?” 

“But it’s not a no.”

Oscar tilts his head. There’s a glimmer of something focused, maybe even hungry in his eyes. Oscar gets like that when his mind turns, when he’s working on an especially difficult thesis, when the pieces are forming and he can lock into the crucial details.

Lando is a little alarmed at how much he already recognises it, and how much more often he’d like to draw that reaction out. 

“If the facts don’t fit the theory, then reexamine the facts. Right?” Oscar says.

And Lando is there, in the doorway. Conscious that Mrs Kapoor might’ve heard everything, but all the more conscious that there’s a hammering in his heart that he can’t tell is nervousness, or anticipation. 

What’s the stress limit for a joke you’re probably already pushing too far? Lando thinks.

He isn’t sure.

But maybe it’s a thesis worth testing out.  

-------------

(and ok maybe i cheated a little on arranged marriage but i think this is the closest i could get with the contemporary context. thank you @cx-boxbox for the prompt <3)

[vaguely-concerned]

so for obvious reasons, rye is not generally all that popular with most of the senior watchers. however. I think there is a certain type of younger watcher to whom he is The ultimate hot badboy icon and fantasy. (we're talking about a group of extreme indoor kid goth nerds who've barely been outside. it doesn't take a lot ot achieve bad boy status in this context and the only thing in this world that lasts forever is a bad reputation in a small insular group like the watchers.) it's SO funny because rye thinks of himself as such a disappointing fuckup of a son of the grand necropolis. and meanwhile there are novices kicking their feet and giggling as they're like

'Ingellvar is so cool. no one knows where he's from he was found down here as a baby. mysterious orphan appeal. he could be a secret dalish prince or something for all we know. (*annoyed extra nerd watcher novice voice*: umm actually the dalish don't have princes, merrivar?? read a real book sometime maybe???) he's a rebel. he doesn't care what the senior watchers think no time for politics he just gets the job done. (*small sad rye voice* I care a lot what the senior watchers think actually. a pathetic amount, in fact. it just rarely seems like it helps anything at all) I heard he graduated almost top of his class even though he spent all his time as a student partying up in the city and having a torrid affair with the son of a noble family. sometimes in his spare time he wears a cool punk leather jacket but like the fantasy version of that. he has tattoos apparently but no one's seen them for years. yuh-uh it's true too, I know someone who knows someone he dated once. they say he saw a knife fight once. like, in a bar brawl, with living people. all that, and he's even sneakily emotionally unavailable. *starry-eyed sigh* what a dreamboat'.

needless to say this only grows worse with the events of the game, after he takes out the formless one and rumours start to spread that he maybe killed a god or something too???? and this being nevarra, more importantly he's out there killing dragons with his sworn companions?? like a fucking fairytale prince but with that devil-may-care rebellious streak???? he's the safely unavailable first crush at a distance of many a young watcher. now imagine the reaction when he shows up home for the first time in a year after the war of the banners accompanied by The one true bad boy fantasy to rule them all: literally the sad brooding crown prince of the crows of antiva in leather pants who has WINGS and a dark tortured side of his nature that he has to constantly battle against for the sake of those he loves.

(the perception vs. reality situation for both of these characterizations is. so unspeakably hilarious needless to say. consider how much of the above lucanis characterization is accurate to the person he actually is and then you've basically found the level of distortion lens being applied to rye as well. is most of it technically true? sure. 'technically' is having to do a whole world of heavy lifting there tho fhdfska)

what I'm really saying here is that there is a subsection of this group that's been ferociously writing rye/lucanis rpf from the moment they were seen trotting down into the necropolis depths together (other pairings within the lighthouse gang as a whole, caught in tantalizing glimpses as they visit the necropolis, of course having their own devotees), and when this fandom subgroup eventually discover they were right it's with all the insane glee of a sixteen year old fanfic writer on wattpad (is that still where the kids are these days. idk i'm getting old folks) finding out that their dark mafia prince AU is basically true. varric might be gone but the legacy of friendfiction lives on after him. the king of thedas rpf being the shoulders of titans that young watchers are standing on to write fevered WILDLY inaccurate depictions of the private life of two of the most low-key domestic quietly devoted and undramatic people on the continent, one of them being varric's own poor little meow meow slash mentee, is something that can actually be so personal. rye does not end up terribly famous in the end considering the shit he manages to get done in this game, and he thanks his lucky stars for it. but to a tight-knit community of mourn watch fic writers he is blorbo from my apocalypse. it's all I could have wished for him.

(funniest possible outcome of all this: myrna gets so fucking tired of trying to understand what the novices are being so tittery about that she asks rye 'watcher ingellvar with the realization that this is a long shot and the admission that vorgoth and I have exhausted all other avenues of investigation: do you possess secret insight about what an 'x reader' is. and also 'ship war'. your name seems to come up in this context a surprising amount'. 9000000 points of incoming psychic damage about to hit the fan.)

[jayholdenworld]

Okay, so… I’m new in the Motorsport world, watching my first F1 season and everything, but who was going to tell me that Carlos Sainz Jr. was in the Eurocup Formula Renault 2.0 in 2011? (The same category Lando won in 2016 and Oscar in 2019) And why I just discovered it when I needed to do a timeline of Oscar’s racing career for a fic about Animal Shifter!Oscar?

Like, if I try hard enough, I can find a connection between Carlos, Lando, and Oscar that could be older than Oscar being Lando’s fan and Lando fanboying over Carlos.

I can create a bigger red thread of destiny connection!!

[babychosen]

amangela meetcute for your prompts

word count: 1025

After finishing a Moon Goon performance, Angela and a few of the group members stayed back in the audience and chatted with a few friends that came to support them. By the time they finished talking, it was nearly time for the next scheduled show to start, so she rushed backstage to gather her things and get the hell out of the theater.

Angela hated getting in the way of the next performers because she knew how cramped the dressing room at UCB could get in between shows. 

She scurried backstage and paused in the doorway of the dressing room, trying to recall where she left her jacket and bag. She scanned the room while she weaved around the new performers, casually exchanging greetings with a few familiar faces. Her eyes landed on the couch near the back of the room, and she saw the faintest shine of her leather jacket draped across the back of the couch.

Angela made a mental note to remind herself to wear her glasses more often because it took way too long, and way too much squinting just to find her belongings in the small room.

After Angela was done talking to a few performers in the room, someone sat down on the couch right in front of her jacket. She froze in her spot. Great, Angela thought. Now she had to go through the awkward confrontation of telling this person they were sitting on her jacket.

She looked a little harder, just to see if she recognized the person. Angela gulped after taking in their appearance; now she had to ask the most gorgeous stranger she’s ever seen to move so she could get her jacket.

Angela fidgeted in place and thought about it. Surely she didn’t need her jacket, right? She could just go home and then get it the next time she’s there… right? Her jacket had her car keys in it, and she sure as hell wasn’t taking the bus home from downtown Hollywood… so her options were very limited.

Like ripping off a band-aid, Angela crossed the room and stood in front of the woman. “Hey, so,” Angela started, pausing for a little too long.

“Hey! Angela, right?” The woman asked, a wide smile on her face. She gestured for Angela to take a seat beside her. “I’m Amanda.”

“Uh-” Angela cleared her throat. “Yeah, that’s me. How’d you know?” Angela sat down, feeling herself being pulled in by Amanda.

“Dude, you’re practically famous around here. You’re like, UCB royalty,” Amanda scoffed, chuckling at Angela’s modesty.

Angela knew she had made a name for herself in the LA comedy scene, but it felt surreal hearing it from someone she was so immediately drawn to.

“I’m kinda new to LA, just moved here from Boston last year,” Amanda explained. Angela hadn’t asked about who this woman was, but she was definitely curious. “I’ve been trying my luck down here with auditions, but it’s a tough crowd.”

The same pull that brought her to sit down beside Amanda, led her to want to offer Amanda support. “If you ever need help with making connections, let me know. I know my way around these parts pretty well,” Angela offered genuinely.

Amanda raised her eyebrows and shyly smiled. “I-I wouldn’t mind being shown around.” 

Amanda looked Angela up and down, and Angela couldn’t tell if she was imagining it being suggestive or if it actually was suggestive—either way, she wasn’t mad about it.

They were taken out of their bubble when people started clearing out of the room, and it was obvious that their conversation had to come to an end.

“I’ll see you later?” Amanda questioned, standing up from the couch.

Angela nodded excitedly with a tight-lipped smile, and then watched Amanda walk away from her. Amanda paused in the doorway to turn around and wave goodbye to the woman still glued to the couch.

She stared at the door for longer than she needed to, going over the conversation in her head. Angela was flattered and awestruck, and she had butterflies in her stomach.

Finally, she stood up from the couch, grabbed her jacket and bag and made her way towards the stage exit door. Once outside in the cool night air, Amanda’s words dawned on her—see you later. Later… when? After the show? At another encounter determined by fate? The instructions were unclear and Angela’s critical thinking skills weren’t kicking in.

In her panic, she spent the next hour walking around the neighbourhood, stopping by an ice cream shop, and hanging out around the stage door, waiting for Amanda to be done with her show. 

Near the one hour mark she began pacing outside of the stage door. Just ask her. Ask for her number. It’s fucking easy, Angela thought to herself.

In a blur, the stage door bursted open and Amanda came storming out—or at least it felt like it all happened that dramatically to Angela.

“Yeah-uh, yeah. I'm still here. Yep. Sure am,” Angela stuttered, cutting herself off before she could make a complete fool of herself.

“Oh, hey! I didn’t think you would still be here,” Amanda beamed, shoving her hands into her jeans pockets and walking up to Angela. She looked even more stunning than she did an hour earlier, Angela noted.

“There’s a bar around the corner. You free?” Amanda raised an eyebrow and the corner of her lips curled up into a smile. Angela knew exactly which bar Amanda was referring to.

First she got out of having to ask Amanda to move so she could get her jacket, and now she just got out of having to ask for her number—and she’s going out for drinks with her? Yeah, okay, Angela wasn’t going to say no. She smirked and started taking steps backwards from Amanda in the direction of the bar.

“Shall we?” Angela asked confidently, waiting for Amanda to follow.

“We shall,” Amanda drawled, jokingly holding out her hand for Angela to take. Angela graciously took her hand and led Amanda towards the bar, beginning what she had a feeling was going to be an amazing night.

[fabbyf1]

You Were The Best (You Were The Worst)

“What do you want?” You. Only you. Always you. “Tell me what you want, Logan.” 

“Oscar, ple—”

“Tell me what you want, and you can have it.” 

“You,” Logan said, not looking away from his eyes. “I want you.” 

“Well, then I’m all yours, baby.”  OR: the angsty estranged-best-friends-to-lovers fic. They haven’t talked since Logan left the grid.

Oscar Piastri/Logan Sargeant | 15k | Read on AO3

[snowyroads]

their scrunched up faces 🥹

[tackythng]

“we set out to change the world... ended up just changing ourselves.”

aka gax velvet goldmine au that no one asked for. not even myself. this came to me in a horrible vision and had me drawing while on vacation. absolute madness.

explanations under the cut:

i could honestly write an essay on this idea but like. i will refrain from doing so. (read: i have so many ideas for this au i might as well write a fic bc it differs from the movie and i am going insane)

something something the pressures of stardom and the fall of prodigies and toxic yaoi and glam rock and punk rock and check the onboard dickhead !!!!!

starring:

george russell as brian slade, max verstappen as curt wilde, charles leclerc as arthur stuart, lewis hamilton as mandy slade, toto wolff as jerry devine, alex albon as shannon, nico rosberg as jack fairy, etc

why these drivers as characters? well george is the type of guy to have an astronomic rise to stardom as a british pop singer with a blue aesthetic only to become fascinated with a punk rock singer who is abrasive and hard to work with. as for everyone else, well. lewis as mandy is a matter of levelheadedness combined with eccentrically inspiring his husband and that makes nico jack bc mandy greatly respects jack and let’s be real nico is the original mercedes twink. alex as shannon bc he only wants the best for george, ending up sort of trapped in the insanity that is maxwell demon. toto as jerry bc he’s so sleazy 70s manager. To me. charles as arthur bc the vibe is right and also lestappen i suppose.

aaaaand that’s a lot of words. Just a small glimpse into my twisted mind.

[adelphenium]

And if I said we needed more of the escapades of TK and fisherman NolPats? What then?

then to that i say -- a mini-epilogue to these shenanigans!!

[concreteburialplot]

Cool About It

Meet: Amelia Alastor

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x OFC

A/N; I began writing this in December because it was meant to be a light, fluffy, hallmark-y one shot but the more I wrote the more it begged to be a sadder longer, more involved fic. I kept going back and forth between just scrapping it but ultimately I chose to continue. To not derail the original framework of the plot, I’ve decided to keep the holiday setting so… just roll with it & enjoy christmas in the spring ig 😅

Summary: When Noah comes home for the holidays with Nicholas, he runs into an old friend. While catching up, they fall back into the shoes of the children they used to be. Amelia quickly realizes that even after nearly 10 years apart, she still knows Noah like the back of her hand. Their reunion raises questions about Noah’s abrupt and secretive disappearance at 16.

Themes/warnings; childhood friends to lovers, ‘I know you better than anyone else’, hallmark-y? kinda?, [AU] family/childhood trauma/abuse, past family deaths, eventual smut, and as always, incredibly sad lol, 18+ MDNI

Disclaimer: this is an au that follows no actual timelines/events, and uses oc's for family members.

Comment if you’d like to be tagged❄️☕️

chapters with smut with have a *

CHAPTERS:

-> 01 - Breaking & Entering

-> 02 - Scott Street