prismprismprism
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Heading to the final chicane, Lando knows he has one more chance to get this right. And that’s when it happens.
Lap 67. Turn 1.
Lando goes for the outside, could’ve sworn there was space.
It happens in a blink of an eye and slow motion all at once. The slightest of collisions and Oscar’s out of the race.
OR
Amnesia Fic
Bookmarked by prismprismprism
06 Sep 2025
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Lando’s never met an omega, certainly, but possibly another person, as unflappable as Oscar. He’s slow to react visibly and often doesn’t react at all, though Lando suspects that’s because he’s already thought a situation all the way through in his head. He smiles slightly and moves quietly, but not without taking up space. By the time their second season together rolls around and Oscar’s no longer a rookie, Lando feels like they’re light friends without really knowing each other at all.
Or, Oscar stops taking scent blockers, and Lando realizes there's a lot he doesn't know.
Bookmarked by prismprismprism
05 Sep 2025
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Soy de mi propia secta, soy mi pareja perfecta. by Stanningeverything
Fandoms: Formula 1 RPF
01 Sep 2025
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Franz laughs, deep and rich, as if he hears his line of thoughts. It's uncomfortable, it's humiliating. “Look at that, who would have guessed Max Verstappen to be so narcissistic.”
He feels red, flushed under the harsh look, a warmth spreading to places it shouldn't. “I'm not. This - it's wrong.”
“Sure, Maxy.”
Or,
Yeah, it's him fucking himself.
Bookmarked by prismprismprism
02 Sep 2025
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“Here’s your receipt. Tracking number at the bottom. It should get to Melbourne in ten days.” George hands him his receipt, and Oscar folds it with the flyer Lando gave him.
“Thanks,” he says.
“No problem, see you around, Oscar.”
George and Lando are both wearing matching grins. Their eyes slightly too bright, their postures angled towards each other. Oscar is almost certain, he will be their next topic of conversation. So he tips his head, and gives a small close lipped smile. Ready to leave them to it.
As he steps outside the post office into the cool afternoon air, he just catches Lando’s question to George before the door closes behind him. “Wait—like, Melbourne, Australia?”
(Alternatively: What if Mark Webber was never Oscar's manager? What if he never made it to F1? What if he wound up in a small town with strange locals after unceremoniously fizzling out of a career in motor sport?)
Bookmarked by prismprismprism
02 Sep 2025
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“Oh my god,” Lando whispers, voice hoarse. “Oh my god, did we fuck?”
“What?” Oscar shoots upright.
“Wait, no, pretend I didn’t say that. I’m a man. A straight man who likes women. Of course we didn’t fuck, that’d be insane.” His words are too rushed to be anywhere near believable.
Oscar blinks slowly. “Do you—Do you actually want me to pretend I didn’t hear it, or can I ask why you think we fucked?”
(Oscar and Lando navigating the messy experience of falling in love in a sport where being queer isn't really an option.)
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Bookmarked by prismprismprism
31 Aug 2025