Landoscar (my Love)

#i remember the one teen wolf fic where #omegas did menstruate #but I think that's it #just one fic #this shall change 💙

why are no fic writers brave enough to tackle the hard hitting criminally underresearched subject of omegan menstruation

i have so many thoughts. first and foremost why does seb keep looking at mark like that. why does mark look so grumpy. also "you always want what you don't have" + pointed look at mark + mark swallowing. sometimes there's not a thing you can say

Hallo new portrait. I neeed to draw bodies. Craving it heavy

Happy birthday to the Maranello's sun☀️🧡💛

[McLaren's IG stories]

- god you can rly see the size difference in them Oscar's legs look miles long

- Oscar looking at Lando before every answer EXCEPT the two they were both immediately agreed on

- Lando's jabby little thumb bc there is only one adventurous eater in that hallway at that moment lgfsaljfgsalf

- smth about how Oscar watches so carefully and repeats back Lando stating how he'd like his burger order !!! like if we didn't have countless examples of him doing this so that he can answer for Lando when need be or predict what he needs etc then I wouldn't think it was special but he genuinely is interested in Lando's little idiosyncrasies kill me

- their glowy proud little faces over both saying tortilla patatas at the same time ;__; and Oscar echoing Lando's wow!

- Lando rly cannot be taught anything he personally hasn't chosen to learn bc he has had the same number of people in his career getting him into golf as trying to teach him Spanish but while he's now teaching other ppl golf he's never graduated past soy lago

“i know you too well” extended cut😵‍💫

hahaha lovely 🌹

Lance: I want to wake up with you every day for the rest of our lives. Fernando: I wake up at 4:30 AM every day to train. Lance: I want to see you at some point every day for the rest of our lives.

oh I'm so gonna Listen to this💙💙💙

its romantic | a strollonso playlist

went truly unhinged and wrote an entire fic summary of mafia!carcar @__@ special thanks to the good ppl over at the carcar discord <3

as usual I worked google's p*ssy tired to put together the details so pls ignore/handwave anything erroneous

Okay, so for regional specifications let’s say that Carlos has worked for years to be vouched for in the mafia. He’s actually a spy and in an extremely dangerous position - he was plucked from law school in Spain to be trained up in the intelligence agency and was assigned to Sicily due to his fluency in Italian. So even though he’s only 26, he’s already highly skilled and has been living and working full-time as a secret agent and translator - as well as liaison for the mafia - in Sicily for years already.

Oscar is fresh off his A-levels and touring Italy with lofty dreams of becoming a race engineer for Ferrari but assuming he’ll end up back in the UK in some bland office where he’ll hope to make enough money to go to F1 races - and maybe one day take his rightful place on that pit wall.

Palermo is at the very end of his trip before he flies back to London and he books a tour of the Norman Palace. He’s enjoying the fusion of cultures in the art and architecture, totally unaware that his name had been noticed by one of the palace’s administration when he’d bought the ticket a week before. An untraceable number of emails and messages had brought his existence to the attention of mafiosi who had until that moment assumed that particular royal line had died out. 

They immediately scour what little exists of Oscar in the public domain and the even less available through government authorities (the boy is barely out of childhood and has done nothing of note except leaving his homeland to attend school in the UK and hasn’t even gotten so much as a speeding ticket). His social media however reveals a hunch that young Oscar is not unaffected by handsome men, possibly with a penchant for Spanish men in particular, and that he is an ardent Ferrari fanboy. A hastily put-together plot to snare the boy into the mafia by establishing him in his rightful royal position has all the promise of strengthening the mafia control of the region. 

Meanwhile, many consiglieri have long been suspicious of Carlos and see this as an opportunity for him to commit his oath for good - or to see him and the Oscar boy easily disposed of if the Spaniard was discovered to be a rat. They will install Carlos as a translator for Ferrari and he will then claim that he is also on holiday in Palermo when he “bumps into” Oscar at the palace. As they are marveling at the Palatine Chapel’s interior and Carlos is using Ferrari and himself to work every charm at his disposal, a royal scholar with ties to the mafia will approach and inform them of his suspicion that Oscar is of royal descent. He will then ask them back to the University of Palermo to confirm his suspicions (which had of course already been confirmed). By that point, Oscar will have been successfully wooed by both Carlos and the promise of taking his rightful place as a prince, so that the mafia can insinuate themselves into his life and eventually his reign.

Only Carlos’ training can prevent his dismay from being revealed to his bosses as the plan is described to him, but he’s horrified at dragging some poor, unwitting kid into all the danger and ruthlessness of organized crime. He decides to defy his bosses back at the intelligence agency and play the long game of making Oscar his husband and strategizing at every turn to keep the boy alive and hopefully at some point extricate him back to his normal life - or at least into a witness protection program. Anything else would certainly risk Oscar’s life and even if Carlos hadn’t become fond of the kid from a distance, he still wouldn’t sacrifice him for a shorter route to cutting off an entire arm of organized crime.

The plan proceeds as expected, with Oscar dazzled and blushing over Carlos’ attentions and the royal scholar having approached them. It all suddenly goes awry when an overzealous nephew of a mafiosi - fresh off a 12-hour drug bender - infiltrates operations, taking Oscar hostage in the chapel and insisting that the government immediately recognize Oscar as royalty and that the church marry them there in the chapel. He then turns the gun to dispatch an unarmed Carlos, only to be knocked unconscious by Oscar wielding an antique censer. 

The royal scholar - Andrea Stella - is a good man who now speaks urgently to Carlos in a peculiar coded language (they both have on wires) informing him that he knows of the mafia’s plans and that he too wants to see Oscar kept safe. Oscar surprises them by not only understanding the code but speaking it back - albeit brokenly - to them. The code is known only within the Ferrari elite and sounds identical to everyday Italian but with a sequenced pattern that carries a second meaning to every other word, something that amateur cryptography genius Oscar picks up on remarkably quickly.

Which is how Oscar learns that his claim to royal status is fully valid, his entanglement with the mafia is very real, but worst of all is that Carlos’ romantic interest in him was all a lie (or so he assumes).

The police and media attention that the hostage situation attracts results in the mafia’s plans proceeding as expected, except for all three men pivotal to their machinations being in cahoots to foil them. Oscar is granted status as a prince but without anointing or coronation by the church due to him taking Carlos for a husband. They are installed in a part of the palace now closed off to the public and begin their work ingratiating Oscar with said public and even winning them over to the idea of him being married to another man (Carlos not being Italian ends up being the biggest hurdle for them to get over). Oscar’s youth, beauty, shyness and sweet giggle work unexpected wonders, as does the promise of a return to all the regal romance of a pre-unified Italy while not actually returning to those times politically. 

Carlos and Oscar have a tense private relationship because Oscar is nursing a wounded heart as well as a stubborn attraction and love for Carlos - while Carlos feels ashamed of having tried to seduce Oscar for duplicitous purposes and is also struggling with an intense attraction and growing affection for him. Andrea is the architect of their whole counter-strategy and is both the heart and the brains: the brains because he has lain in wait for decades for the right opportunity to destroy the mafia’s power, but also the heart because he sees Oscar as a son and can also see the misunderstandings going on between Oscar and Carlos.

Oscar is a complete surprise package in having an iron-clad poker face and an uncanny ability to remain calm even as his life is turned upside down that rivals seasoned operatives. He even manages to dupe his own family when they visit for the wedding. When Carlos asks how he can so easily lie to them about it all, Oscar levels him with “I could do anything just to keep them safe.” To which Carlos replies that he knows what Oscar means and raises Oscar’s hand to kiss over the ring he now wears as prince. Then he kisses Oscar at one of the highest points of the palace with Mount Etna visible in the distance.

They begin an all-consuming sexual affair that they both privately claim is beneficial to confirming their relationship to the mafia while conveniently remaining in denial of their real feelings. Carlos pours all of his into kissing every inch of Oscar’s pale skin until he’s pink all over, and Oscar puts all his aching heart into taking Carlos down his throat just out of view of the public or forcing Carlos to handle meetings while Oscar is crouched between his ankles. A few lowly messengers of the mafiosi bring back stories of hearing the prince’s cries punctuated with the banging of furniture against palace walls. Carlos can’t keep his hands off his pretty husband either in public or private conclave with “officials” who are really mafiosi under different titles. 

Meanwhile, Oscar is still presumed by the mafia to be none the wiser about the criminal element of his reign and does such sleek work with his angelic face and adorably unassuming attitude that any lingering discussion of dispatching him is immediately shut down.

Which makes it all the more shocking four years later when a sudden mass assassination frames half the criminal element for the death of the other half and throws the whole of the syndicate in chaos that dissolves their control entirely. The ensuing months see Oscar, Carlos and Andrea sequestered - along with their court - inside the palace which is shut to the public amid fears of another hostage situation, while arrests and investigations take place. 

Tensions across the city are high in the wake of the ensuing widely publicized trials and Oscar insists that a public appearance from him outside the palace would reassure and distract the public - and that it would solidify his position as more than seemingly ceremonial. The palace officials agree to the plan but as they are deciding on the security detail, Carlos realizes his presence alongside Oscar has not been mentioned. 

Later that night in their bedchamber, Carlos raises his concern and states that he will be accompanying his husband during his appearance. Oscar attempts to shut him down by stating that Carlos would only represent a greater threat by seeming to taunt the mafia and encourage retribution. 

They argue until Oscar calmly pulls rank, to which Carlos responds by kissing him fiercely and forcing him onto the bed. They desperately make love and fall asleep in each other’s arms. 

The next morning, Carlos awakens in their room alone and with the sun at a suspicious slant through the windows. He realizes Oscar has stolen Carlos’ phone from its usual place by the bed to ensure that he slept in - clearly hoping Carlos would sleep through Oscar’s public appearance entirely. He realizes the little beast had baited him into fucking him so thoroughly that Carlos was exhausted and woke late.

He pulls on clothes and tears down the stairs to the courtyard with just enough time to compose himself and stand beside one of the guards. Oscar stood out in front with the selected media in a semi-circle and an enormous crowd at barriers set further out, many of whom were calling out affection and support for their prince. He does not see that Carlos has joined them and proceeds with his speech.

Carlos spots the gun at the same time as the guard next to him, but it is aimed at Oscar and not himself. 

As Etna smokes and rumbles what will be called a mild yet deadly eruption in the distance, two shots are fired after Carlos and the guard wrap their bodies around Oscar and force him to safety. The remaining guards - and a few members of the public - detain the gunman (none too gently) and Carlos and Oscar are bundled back to their rooms and the guards take up position outside.

Inside their bedchamber, Oscar frantically paws at Carlos, wildly suspecting that he’s been shot and doesn’t realize it. He tugs Carlos’ jacket and shirt off and gives a heartbreaking cry of relief when he doesn’t see a single mark on his husband’s body.

Oscar breaks down at last, releasing four years of stress and anxiety in a gust of tears and collapsing in Carlos’ arms. He pours out how he had contrived the mass assassination plan mere months after his life was altered forever in the Palatine Chapel - how he brought Andrea into it to help him with things like the details and movements of mafia members, members who would be willing to work against the family and the risk to innocents, even down to developing a seemingly arbitrary fascination with volcanology so that he could be made aware of Etna’s activity far enough in advance to take the admittedly wild final gambit of disposing the remaining members by having them conveniently perish in Etna’s next eruption. He realized that while conspiring half the local mafia against the larger organization would result in a certain amount of mutually assured destruction, as well as concealing forever Oscar’s role in it, he would have some stragglers to deal with who could regroup in retribution. A suggestion was therefore sent down via Oscar’s court officials to the police loyal to the palace, and then to remaining criminals-at-large (also those with the bloodiest histories in the mafia) of escaping arrest by scaling the crater during a period of high activity and therefore remaining undetected by officials, guides and the public. Their treacherous expedition was promised to take them to the other side of the volcano and then to the coast where boats and new identities would take them from their troubles. 

Oscar had reasoned that if Etna hadn’t taken them then their desire for escaping arrest would scatter them and effectively extinguish their power hopefully forever. Andrea had marveled at Oscar’s command over strategizing the whole plan mostly by himself and said that Ferrari would mourn missing out on hiring him if they knew what he was capable of.

Carlos cradles Oscar on the carpet, kissing his sweat-cold brow and begging to know why Oscar didn’t include Carlos in the plan? Does he still not trust him after all this time? Because if so then he wishes the bullet had found him and put an end to playing husband to the man he loves but who will never love him in return.

Oscar looks up into his eyes with a face full of wonder and brings a hand up to lovingly stroke Carlos’ cheek. Because he kept Carlos out of it precisely so that he wouldn’t do anything stupid like sacrifice himself and ruin Oscar’s hopes that when his plan was finished, perhaps they could start over and he could make Carlos love him the way he loves Carlos.

For the first time, they kiss knowing their love is mutual. And while they realize their positions will always involve some element of danger and their lives will never be “normal”, they admit that they’d never choose any other life if it meant not being together.

ENDITO!

Did a 20 minute drabble sprint with my speedy gentlemen buds and came out with this!

Prompt: “There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you.”

I chose to do some Landoscar fluff :)

Under the cut!

It starts out quiet.

Like Lando isn’t even sure anything is even different. It’s casual. It’s normal.

But something has shifted in the way Oscar Piastri looks at him. And Lando doesn't know how to deal with it other than internal flailing and alarms screeching in his head.

“Here,” Oscar offers with a small nod, handing Lando his forgotten water bottle he had left abandoned in the hospitality an hour earlier.

Lando takes it from Oscar’s outstretched hand and feels their fingers brush just the tiniest bit from the pass. Lando shivers. He hopes it was internal shivering that is imperceptible to others, imperceptible to Oscar.

“Thanks.” Lando says mutely. And then Oscar does the damndest thing.

He winks at him.

Lando melts into a puddle. What is wrong with him?

—

Lando really should have the couch of his driver’s room facing the door and not facing away from the door. It was a tragic mistake in strategy on his part.

So it shouldn’t come as a surprise when he feels warm breath ghost over the back of his neck and a soft thud against the back of the couch.

He drops his phone. The traitorous device snaps into his chest and bounces onto the floor.

“Hey.” Oscar breathes down the back of his neck.

Lando makes a slightly mangled noise in response and scrambles to the floor to look for his phone. Nevermind it being a traitorous device, it’s now his savior to get Oscar’s breath away from his neck before he does something stupid like turn around and pull his face to Lando’s.

Lando finally grabs his phone and looks up at Oscar, who is now leaning over the top of the couch and tilting his head in a way Lando would die before he admits he finds cute. He’s smiling and waiting for Lando to get himself together.

It strikes Lando then. Oscar’s always waiting for him. Never pushy. Never impatient. Just. Waiting. Like he’s got all the time in the world for him.

He clears his throat. “Is it a habit of yours to frighten men in their own driver’s rooms?”

Oscar laughs, quiet and jerky, like he’s trying to bend over the front of the couch. He shakes his head. “Nah, just thought you’d appreciate these.”

At that, Oscar reveals a bag of stroopwafels he had been hiding behind the couch.

Lando gasps and climbs back up the couch to Oscar’s space.

“You dog. You did not get me stroopwafels.” Lando says in disbelief, trying to paw them out of Oscar’s grasp.

He hands them over with no issue, and Lando notices Oscar’s fingers linger just the slightest bit over Lando’s.

“Hopefully they make up for scaring the living daylights out of you?”

Lando nods his head hastily and starts tearing the package open before someone can come take them from him. Before Jon can take them from him.

“How did you get these past security?” Lando says with awe while offering Oscar a warm stroopwafel.

Oscar takes it and pops a corner of it into his mouth.

“There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you.”

And Lando feels like the air has been sucked out of the room at the absolute sincerity in Oscar’s tone.

And then Lando finally looks up at Oscar, really looks at him. And he finds something unwavering in his eyes.

“Oh.” Lando gets out quietly.

“Yeah.” Oscar agrees, nodding his head a bit and then scratching the back of his neck.

“Would you get me chicken nuggets too?”

A laugh punches out of Oscar at that. And Lando appreciates the warmth that spreads through his chest at seeing Oscar like this. There’s something there. Lando just has to figure out what it is.

What Lando would find out later, is that Oscar already knew what it was. He would just wait a while longer for Lando to catch on.

—