This Video Is My One Reason For Living Rn

oscar via @/diddlysquat.farmshop on instagram

i just know this is somebody's kink i just know it

#I feel blegh about all this

#this situation with bianca has upseted me beyond my comprehension

what saddens me the most about the Lance situation as it is, especially in the lights of the tweet liked by Bianca Bustamante (who is a signed junior driver at McLaren as of today) where op calls Lance “an autist”, apart from the regular “just a pay driver” shtick, is the normalization of hating Lance. somehow people in the fandom and evidently among the actual drivers (hello, Drugo, you bitch) have adopted a rhetoric that paints Lance as someone who is ok to hate because: a) daddy owns the team; b) doesn’t have goat level results; c) just because! he’s not widely loved, so it’s all fine, all good. and it’s not real since we’re on the internet. right?

it’s sickening to see what people say about him (both using ableist language, antisemitic comments etc) and then defend themselves saying “well you see he’s this and that and this so I hate him”. you don’t. you’re just full of inhuman hate and need an outlet. or you wanna be one of the “cool kids” which means only liking certain drivers and shitting on the others. fucking check yourselves.

since f1 fandom across all platforms is far from healthy, you get used to seeing takes that make you want to gouge your eyes out, yet Lance seems to be the most popular target of that hatred, unbiased as it is. it’s not even fully about the money or the fact that Lance, indeed, has a father who loves him very much and made sure his son got all the opportunities in the world. you can be mad about it all you want but it won’t change anything.

the line between not liking a particular driver and straight up mixing him with dirt is non-existent these days.

in all honesty, if Lance really didn’t care about racing, at all, he would have walked away already. why risk your life if you’re already set for life money wise? sit and think about that for a bit.

regarding the tweet recently liked by Bianca — I want to make it clear that I’m not familiar with her and I am not hating on her, simply judging this incident — I can’t help but wonder. you made it to f1 and you know how soc med works. likes are public. why? answer might not be clear. but entertain this idea — if there was already a precedent where she found it ok to like a tweet that praises her and shits on Lance, imagine what the kind of mindset there is already in place. so many things we don’t know about that happens behind the scenes.

this isn’t the last we have shit like that happen and it isn’t the first. doesn’t make it any less frustrating and rage inducing.

Photo of the year, ladies and gents

F1 FANFICS REC LIST - Rule63/Genderswap/Girl Drivers

jump right in (162647 words) by peachbellini Rating: Explicit Relationships: Lando Norris/Oscar Piastri Series: Part 2 of girls just wanna f1 Summary: Lando being a girl is not a problem. Lando being hot. That’s the problem.

I recommend the WHOLE series!

oOoOoOo

When you look at me tell me what do you see (5143 words) by weegreenbean Rating: Mature Relationships: Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen Summary: “You, you, you’re a girl! A …a woman!” Charles eventually gapes out and the look Max gives him could level a building. “Well spotted, dickhead,” he no, no fucking no, she hisses in response and okay, Charles thinks it is perfectly reasonable to feel his knees buckle slightly against the wall of Max’s driver room. Or Max is a woman. Charles becomes determined to help her be herself.

oOoOoOo

lacy black pair (3661 words) by buildyourfences Rating: Mature Relationships: Charles Leclerc/Oscar Piastri Summary: “Would you like that, Oscar?” Charles leans in, extends a hand to grip Oscar’s exposed thigh. “For me to dress you?” Oscar nods, doesn’t trust herself not to say something embarrassing if she opens her mouth. “Good,” Charles purrs.

oOoOoOo

down on you (6044 words) by MisanthropyMuse Rating: Explicit Relationships: Oscar Piastri/Carlos Sainz Jr Summary: “I’m just saying—I would have liked you on the podium with me so I could look down on you from the top step this time.” Now it’s his turn to blush, tan skin turning an enticing shade of dark red as he looks at her, eyes lingering on her lips for a moment before they meet hers, deep and intense. “That can still be arranged,” he says, voice lower now, smooth with a hint of excitement that makes her insides tingle. Carlos might have missed out on the podium, but he ends up with Oscar standing on top of him nonetheless, and it's almost just as good.

oOoOoOo

Reset me (7487 words) by f1amboyant Rating: Explicit Relationships: Oscar Piastri/Carlos Sainz Jr Summary: “You realize what you’re asking me, right?” Oscar said, taking a step forward, like it could prove his point. What was his point, again? “Because this?” He gestured to Carlos’ body, the body of a woman, no doubt about that. “There’s truly only one way I can help you with this. You know that, right?” Carlos softly bit his lip for a brief second, immediately followed by his tongue wetting the invisible indentation left there. Oscar was looking. He was looking so bad. “I’m aware,” Carlos said. “And you’re still asking me?” “Yes.” OR: Carlos gets turned into a woman and asks Oscar, of all people, to help him.

oOoOoOo

like honey but sweeter (the grass here is greener) (5212 words) by lisbian Rating: Explicit Relationships: Alexander Albon/George Russell Summary: “Georgie,” she butts in, only half paying attention as she types out a dumb comment on Lando’s latest Instagram post. “Have you ever thought about just dating women?”

oOoOoOo

do me a favour (17702 words) by crimandclove Rating: Explicit Relationships: George Russell/Lance Stroll Summary: January 2024 - George finds himself single, stressed, with a set of tits & one Lance Stroll in his home.

oOoOoOo

GR63 (12047 words) by Ossobuco Rating: Explicit Relationships: Daniel Ricciardo/George Russell Summary: “All right, thank you, everyone,” George says as the last few of his colleagues settle into their chairs. “This meeting of the Grand Prix Drivers’ Association is now in session. As you all know, it’s our third race week of the year and we have quite a bit to get to, but as the first order of business, I would like to propose an inquiry into a situation in which many of us have found ourselves, rather inexplicably. I’m aware that in past seasons, established procedure has been to simply—er, handle the problem as quickly as possible—” There’s a low snicker from somewhere in the back of the room. George ignores it. “But I believe it’s time we took a more proactive, analytical approach to this, ah, phenomenon.”

oOoOoOo

those magic changes (7829 words) by peachbellini Rating: Explicit Relationships: Lando Norris/Oscar Piastri Summary: “Yeah, right.” Oscar’s beer tastes stale in his mouth. “Sure there’s other perks though, right?” Logan’s attention has been taken by his phone. Probably a girl, Oscar thinks, or his Mom. Maybe there’s a particularly big fish being shared in the family group chat. He types out a message then locks it with purpose, chucking it face down on the table. “Yeah, I mean. You know what they say happens when you podium, right? The girl thing?”

MASTERPOST

Oscar Piastri Tim Tam fanaart

the martian/sebmark iceberg ,,, has finally been completely,,, please lmk if i missed anything ill for sure add it

kinkmeme fic recs

I wish there were fic posts for these that I could reblog, so in the absence of that (and the spirit of just having pressed 'post' on a totally unhinged comment), thought I would share a couple of fics that I have thoroughly enjoyed over the past couple of weeks:

you signed up for this - lando norris/oscar piastri/older oscar piastri. time travel, threesome, double penetration

but i found i'm bound - oscar piastri/mark webber. a/b/o, dubcon, breeding

side by side in orbit - lando norris/oscar piastri, max fewtrell/lando norris. cuckolding, voyeurism, open relationships

nobody wants you as bad as i do - lando norris/oscar piastri. lingerie, angst with a happy ending (and house edge, toxic lando/oscar/daniel set in the same universe)

So many other glorious prompts and fills to check out at the kinkmeme. Give our amazing authors some love 🥰

54 for omegaverse please and thank

54. "P-please scent me, I don't want to smell like them, I want to smell like you..."

It starts innocent enough, Lando popping his head around the door of Oscar’s driver’s room somewhere between press responsibilities on Thursday. “Hey,” he says, glancing at where Oscar is sprawled over the couch, scrolling through his phone. “Can you scent me?”

Oscar raises an eyebrow. They’ve been teammates for a while now, long enough for Oscar to know Lando’s nose is sensitive. He particular, about who and what he does and doesn’t smell like. Borrows hoodies from friends and family to be wrapped up in their scent, gets antsy when things smell wrong.

So this. This means Oscar… His inner Alpha, the one that’s been screaming mine mine mine ever since he first laid eyes on Lando, rumbles happily. Oscar firmly tells it to shut the fuck up and turns to Lando, reassuring smile on his face, determined not to make this weird. Lando wouldn’t ask him if he wasn’t feeling uncomfortable, so.

“Sure,” he says. “Get over here.”

Lando makes a happy noise and instead of waiting for Oscar to get up so they can do the whole cheek rubbing, neck nosing thing that’s normal between friends, flops down square on top of Oscar and snuggles in.

“Oof,” Oscar wheezes out, when Lando’s elbow ends up somewhere in his abdomen. “Okay.”

“Hm,” Lando says, shoves his nose into Oscar’s neck. Oscar stares up at the ceiling, tries to think of Normal and Sane things that aren’t his teammate currently lounging on his chest, fitting into his arms like a puzzle piece sliding into place.

After about five minutes of Oscar trying to name every single part of the MCL60 in his head and not thinking about shoving his nose into Lando’s soft curls and taking in his chocolate cookie sweet scent, Lando lets out a happy noise and gets up again. “Thanks, mate,” he says, and then disappears before Oscar can utter as much as a ‘No problem’.

--

It happens again, after that. And again. Lando has clearly added Oscar to his roster of ‘People Who Smell Good’, and makes grateful use of the fact that Oscar is just around, like. All the time. It reaches a point where Lando just follows Oscar into his driver’s room between obligations, sprawls all over his couch, steals his hoodies.

Like he belongs.

And that’s. That’s when it starts becoming a problem. Because the more and more Lando inserts himself into Oscar’s space, the more Oscar’s stupid instincts scream at him that he’s his, that he belongs to Oscar, that he is his Omega. Which is stupid, because Lando doesn’t belong to anyone. Least of all Oscar.

The moment Oscar realizes he’s gotten in way over his head is when him and Lando make it onto another podium, and when Max gives Lando a congratulatory handshake, Oscar actually growls at him.

Nobody catches it, over the sound of the celebrations and the general F1 post-race ruckus, but Oscar realizes that if he doesn’t put a stop to this now it’s only going to get worse and that isn’t fair to anyone. Not to Lando, not to any Alpha that comes close to Lando, not to himself.

He doesn’t tell Lando, doesn’t know how to explain without putting his heart on the table and making it gratingly awkward for everyone involved, and so he keeps quiet, pulls away bit by bit, slowly disappearing back into the shadows he existed in before Lando put him in the spotlight.

Lando, for the most part, lets him. Frowns, when Oscar closes the door to his driver’s room before Lando can follow, when Oscar moves away from his touch. But he doesn’t say anything, seems to accept the distance Oscar is trying to create. Doesn’t push.

It hurts, only a little bit. Oscar had fooled himself, at one point, that maybe it meant something, to Lando. But the way he lets Oscar pull away so easily…

Oscar puts his head down, focuses on the car. He’s here to race after all.

--

The whole weekend has been shit. Qualifying was garbage for the both of them, and then there’s a sprint on Saturday that goes completely tits up, too. Lando ends up in the gravel somewhere halfway, and Oscar watches the screens, watches him climb out of the car, sulk back to the garage.

Lando gets subjected to a million interviews that all ask him the same questions, and Oscar can see the exhaustion on his face, from his end of the media pen. Something in him wants to reach out, pull Lando close, shade him from the rest of the world. He pushes that something down, and answers the fifteenth question about how they’re expecting the race tomorrow to go now the car seems so spectacularly shit this weekend.

He doesn’t expect there to be a knock on his hotel room door later that night, revealing Lando in all his jittery, exhausted glory. “Oscar,” he says, mouth tight and eyes downcast. He looks so small, and Oscar’s Alpha whines at the sight. “Oscar please. I know I’ve been asking way too much, making you all uncomfortable but please, please scent me. I don’t, I don’t want to smell like them, I want to smell like you.”

Oscar wants to give in immediately. Pull him close, press his nose into Lando’s scent gland. Take off his clothes, because skin to skin scenting is always better. Wants to cover him until Lando smells like nothing but Oscar, so everyone else can smell who he belongs to. But that’s not. He needs answers first. So he restrains himself, tries to keep his face neutral as he says. “Why me?”

Lando makes a frustrated little noise. “Don’t. Don’t be mean, Oscar. You know. You know why.”

“I really don’t,” Oscar says, genuinely confused.

“But,” Lando says, “You pulled away. Because you realized I was in love with you. That’s why… You needed space.”

Oscar blinks. Tries to process fifteen things all at once and comes up completely blank. “I needed space because I realized I was in love with you,” he says, a little dumbfounded.

Lando frowns. “Why would you need space, then?”

“I, because I didn’t think you wanted me?”

“Well, that’s stupid,” Lando says, frown deepening. “Of course I want you. Why would I scent you all the time if I didn’t want you?”

Oscar wants to bring up the nose thing, how he just thought that’s how Lando kept himself comfortable. Want to bring up how Lando never said anything. But it’s details, really. Details that don’t really matter, not when Lando is standing in front of him, saying he’s in love with Oscar.

So instead, he grabs the front of Lando’s hoodie, pulls him close, presses their lips together in a searing kiss. Lando yelps, but then melts into it immediately, making a happy little purring noise in the back of his throat.

(Later, with his arms wrapped around Lando’s naked, sleeping form, Oscar presses his nose into the place where Lando’s neck meets his shoulder. He smells like LandoOscarLandoOscar, and it’s the most beautiful thing Oscar’s ever smelled. He’s falls asleep only seconds later.)

uhh i got upset that all of the good edits were losing their sounds on tiktok so out of rage i created one of my own :) enjoy landoscar set to ABBA!

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