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landoscodium · 6 months

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post brazil gp landoscar fluff because i feel like we all need some of that rn lmao

Lando doesn’t expect Oscar to follow him, after.

Sure, they’ve been having this thing going between them for a few weeks now, a thing that started with a frantic make out session after the wild ride that was the Singapore Grand Prix and continued all throughout the shared podiums in Japan and Qatar, but still.

To be fair, when the US GP had happened, Lando hadn’t really expected Oscar to follow him either. DNF’s always sucked, and Lando usually liked to deal with them by rolling himself into a blanket and eating a pint of ice cream and wallowing over all the things that could have gone different, that should have gone different, that he could have done different.

But Oscar had followed him anyway.

After Mexico, too, which wasn’t bad but wasn’t good either, but Oscar was still there, tight smile and tired eyes, following Lando to his hotel room and kissing him softly the second the door closed behind them.

Still, after all of that, Lando doesn’t expect Oscar to follow him. Not this time. Not after that disaster of a first lap. Not after Oscar had to watch Lando take second place even though he had to spend the entire race playing a game of catch up he was never going to win.

And yet, when Lando gathers the last things in his drivers room, tries to shove everything back into his bag with a franticness that only ever comes with a great desire to go back to the hotel and sleep, Oscar appears in the doorway. He looks a little tired, a little sad, a little withdrawn, but when Lando looks up, meets his eyes, a smile takes over his face. It’s a soft, gentle little thing he only ever seems to save for Lando. “Hey,” he says, leaning against the doorjamb. “Ready to go?”

Lando pauses, gives Oscar a calculating look. “You don’t. We don’t have to,” he says, eventually. He’s not. He wants to. He always wants to. He thinks about that sometimes, how much he always seems to want so much from Oscar. How Oscar always seems so willing to give.

“Okay,” Oscar says, brows pinching together. “But I want to.”

The ‘Do you?’ hangs unspoken between them.

“It’s just,” Lando starts, searching for words. “You had a shit race. I get it if you want some time alone. Or something. You don’t owe me anything. I’d get it.” He’s been there. He’d get it, if Oscar just wanted to be left alone for a bit.

Oscar hums, pushes himself off the doorjamb to make his way over to Lando. “I know. Thank you,” he says, taking Lando’s face in his hands and pressing a kiss to his forehead, leaving Lando a little flabbergasted and a lot flustered. “You’re sweet. But I would really just like to go home.” He takes Lando’s bag from his hands, then, slings it over his own shoulder and glances around the room to see if they’re forgetting anything.

Lando unfreezes when Oscar says. “Lando? You coming?” From where he’s standing in the doorway again, and hurries after Oscar, hoping he can blame the flush on his cheeks on the exertion of the race.

It isn’t until later, much later, when he lies in his bed in his hotel room, listening to Oscar’s soft even breath as he sleeps peacefully next to Lando, that he realizes.

When Oscar had said home.

He’d meant Lando.

#WHEN OSCAR HAD SAID HOME. HE MEANT LANDO.#IM GOING SO FERAL RN #landoscar #ln4 #op81 #f1

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landoscodium · 6 months

Text

I know.

Tags: Landoscar, Twinklaren, Oscar going through it, especially with that Brazil GP 2023, Hurt/Comfort, Character Analysis, Lando and Oscar end up together, in depth look into the quiet child experience, I know it personally.

Word Count: 1.5k

This work is also on AO3 under user roianamustang (me).

It’s always running, sprinting. It keeps on falling, tripping. It stumbles, gets back up, looks around, it moves. It never stops moving.

For all of his 22 years on this Earth, Oscar’s mind has never been quiet. Not like he is.

He’s heard the remarks, even agreed with some of them.

Since he was a child, he remembers his mother being continuously praised on what a quiet, calm kid she had. He remembers his father being teased for how his son was not rowdy or mischievous. He remembers his sisters’ friends describing him as mysterious and cool, unassuming.

Now with his life on full display at McLaren, he reads on how unemotional, unenthusiastic he seems. He reads and he stays quiet.

He observes, he reflects. Eyes unblinking and the air still around him. Like it always seems to be.

I know.

From an outsider’s point of view, he can understand. He can see why people's opinions of him are what they are. Putting himself in people’s shoes has always come as second nature to Oscar. It was getting out of those shoes that seemed to be the problem.

Sympathizing, empathizing, understanding he can do. Observation has been his strongest skill and it has sharpened over the years.

Yet, it seems, other people can never do it for him. They can never get it right. It doesn’t seem like they’ll start getting it now or any time soon. Sometimes it feels like they won’t ever get it, even in the far future.

Do I know?

Little footsteps echoed in his mother’s shadow around the place. It’s the loudest he’s been. Oscar looks around, wide-eyed, intrigued, curious. Always taking things in. But they never seem to be able to get out.

I learn.

Sleep.

Sleep is a favorite activity of his. It had his mother concerned when he was but a young boy, come up to him about it. Ask him. Ponder. Assume.

Oscar doesn’t think he will ever get over his mothers face looking confused, conflicted when he told her.

His brain jumps, it flies. If it couldn’t catch something, it would find another thing. His brain ran itself thin, it crouched, it needed sleep.

‘That’s not normal.’ his mom had said.

Recommended taking a break. Recommended letting himself breathe. Recommended to stop.

‘It’s not healthy.’ She’d pressed.

I know.

When his hands touched the karting wheel, time didn’t stop. To be fair, it actually only seemed to go slower. He hadn’t done this before. Things he hasn't done or tried yet, aren't perfected. He shouldn’t expect results. Keep your expectations low, so they're either met or pleasantly surpassed.

That’s why it was unexpected, uncalculated. He pressed the pedal, he gripped the wheel, he didn't blink, he passed the first kid. Then the next one. Then the next, and the next and it just kept on going. He felt the wind, he saw the turns, he heard the noise.

He felt. He felt and it stopped. He felt and didn’t bolt from it. Didn’t run it dry, didn’t analyze. Didn’t think.

His heart beat loudly, resounding through his body. Echoing in his ears.

Yet.

It was quiet.

He won, and he kept on winning and he didn’t seem to be able to stop.

Satisfaction thrummed through his veins and entered his head. Lingering, altering.

I know now.

After a while the inevitable happened. He grew, things became more important. They required thinking. They required analyzing, observing, seeing. It was a trained response, Oscar knew what to do. He moved on autopilot. He slept.

But he craved. Craved the silence. It seemed to slip away the higher he went.

He can make sacrifices, he understands.

I know.

Do I?

Alpine was loud. Alpine was deafening and emotional. Alpine made Oscar feel, but not in the way he wanted to.

He felt but his mind raced faster. He felt but it didn’t feel exhilarating. He felt but he didn’t overtake, he didn’t take off.

He froze.

He felt and he couldn’t stop thinking.

The sacrifice would have been in vain. The silence lost, for nothing. What was the point of doing this, if at the very least his hard-earned success didn’t get him where he wanted? If his freshly departed sacrifice, felt like a freshly opened wound?

His F2 Championship was everything he wanted. But what about everything he wished?

I don’t know, not anymore.

Oscar figured out pretty soon that the root of his problem was his yearning. He yearned the quiet, he yearned the success. And for two years now, he longed for revenge. But he didn’t do things blaringly, not like Alpine.

He does them unexpectedly, or so it seems to others anyway.

For the first time in a long time. Oscar Piastri overtakes.

@OscarPiastri

I understand that, without my agreement, Alpine F1 have put out a press release late this afternoon that I am driving for them next year. This is wrong and I have not signed a contract with Alpine for 2023. I will not be driving for Alpine next year.

8:00 PM · Aug 2, 2022

44.2K Reposts 50.7K Quotes 386K Likes 4,282 Bookmarks

I know again.

That being said, when your constant variable is overanalyzing, new environments don’t add well to the equation. New environments mean new people, new people mean new expectations.

New expectations mean a higher probability for error.

But he could do this. He worked for it, he fought for it. He sacrificed for it.

He itched for it.

I know.

When you let your mind wander, it creates new pathways, new possibilities. Wandering allows for running and running in a forest means getting lost.

His newest forest, seems to be going by the name of a Lando Norris.

I found out.

Lando was noise. Lando was the unachievable. More years of experience meant more years of achievements. Lando was his closest teammate and his hardest rival.

But, as days passed, comfort became Lando.

Security transformed into Lando.

Silence translated to Lando. Not in Lando himself, no, of course not. To him. To Oscar.

Lando spoke and Oscar listened.

Lando asked and Oscar answered.

Lando touched and Oscar leaned.

Lando moved and Oscar followed.

Lando stopped and Oscar stopped.

I always knew.

The year had started slow, but by God did it pick up the pace. It just needed some time to warm up those soft compound tyres. Just like Lando, who helped Oscar get more comfortable. With the car. With the team. With the new upgrades, the suddenly incessant meetings. With his ability to put in his input and have it be taken into consideration.

With Lando.

The better they got, the more media work they did. While in the past, Oscar may have dreaded it, he’s grown to like it.

The more media work they did, whether they noticed it or not, the closer they got. Bonded.

At the time Oscar hadn't noticed—something that doesn't just happen, that for the first time ever, he was the one being analyzed, looked into. Someone was getting in his shoes, and they seemed dead set on not leaving.

Without realizing it, Lando had become fresh air, first podiums, bright days, calm nights, quiet thoughts, content. Oscar felt content. His brain didn’t run, it walked, it discovered. It felt but it was ok.

I stumbled upon the discovery.

The heat was unbearable, yes, exhausting. But it didn’t matter, because he had done it. He has proved it. He met the expectations, in fact he can confidently say he has surpassed them.

He spilled the water on his head, felt it go through each individual strand of hair, down his back, onto his hands. He felt exhilarated.

Was it the water or the newly discovered heaviness of a gaze?

I know who it was.

He spilled the champagne at Lando on that podium, let it flow down the ridges of his back, the smile on his face, the hands clutching the bottle, the curls shining under the night lights. Grinned at it, laughed with it. Enjoyed it.

Did he say champagne?

He meant his own eyes.

Trailing. Following.

I knew.

The first brush of lips was soft. It was a question, a request for permission.

Just like in his newly rediscovered passion for racing, winning, Oscar didn’t think. He felt. He acted. He nodded.

The first press of lips was gradual, tentative, exploring.

He sighed. He melted. He pulled.

Safety feels warm. Comfort feels free. Being understood feels like losing control, but you’re still holding the reins.

He’d always wanted a weighted blanket. Guess there was no need for that anymore when you have a lap full of Lando.

They laid down. With hands combing through his locks and lips brushing on his forehead, Oscar allowed himself to let go.

His eyes dropped. He felt warmth on the top of his head, around his body, encasing his heart. He felt and it was ok.

Nothing was sacrificed. It was planted, watered over the years. Waited for the seasons to change.

Until it bloomed, blossomed.

And this time Oscar slept and woke up feeling rested.

The view certainly helped.

I’ll know.

-End-

Notes:

I'll analyze all of the 'I know' and their versions:

1) I know, Oscar is well aware of how he seems to people and their opinions of him. He can't do much to change them, cause he can't do much to change himself. This is who he is. Besides they are wrong. He feels so much, it tends to get overwhelming.

2) Do I know?, Being highly empathetic with people allows you to see every aspect and reason for their actions or reactions, however most people don't do this. Their main focus is themselves, other people come second and so on. It feels like putting in the effort but never having any effort being put in you.

3) I learn, children are curious and their minds act like sponges. No matter how small they are they will understand and remember everything.

4) I know, Oscar is self-aware enough to know that thinking so much it physically makes you tired is not the usual. He can't just stop though, it's how he functions. This is directly taken from a personal experience with this same conversation.

5) I know now, he knew right then and there that racing would be his freedom, his life.

6) I know.

Do I?, Is he ready to make these sacrifices? Is he willing to put in the work? Is it worth it? Is racing what he wants for his future? These are all insinuated questions he asks himself.

7) I don't know, not anymore, Alpine was even more doubt and wait. Waiting made the doubt linger and never leave. The future seemed bleaker. The sacrifices worthless.

8) I know again, Oscar found a purpose, a reason to continue.

9) I know, there's no more time for waiting or hesitance. He figured out how these things work now. You push forward. There is no time for second guessing.

10) I found out, something new, unexpected. Lando himself.

11) I always knew, was it actually new and unexpected or was it exactly what he was waiting for?

12) I stumbled upon the discovery, Oscar's whole thing is the need for quiet, for his brain to just stop for a second. It used to be racing that gave him that feeling and while it is slowly returning, it seems to not be the only thing that has that affect on him. There seems to be something, or someone else too.

13) I know who it was, it was Lando's gaze spilling down his back. Mapping Oscar on that podium.

14) I knew, it was his own gaze, spilling down Lando's. Gazing.

15) I'll know, he doesn't have to think, to analyze. Let the future be unknown. If he wants to, he can make it happen. With Lando there, it is assured, safe

Please note that no matter how much I am writing here, it is all artistic speculation of what Oscar himself has decided to show the world. Do not forget that these drivers are real people.

I wrote this after my own personal experience. I find Oscar incredibly familiar and relatable. It doesn't help that I look enough like him that the merge filter on TikTok refuses to merge me with him specifically.

Thank you so much for the dividers to @cafekitsune and @saradika ! They are so pretty!

Thank you so much for reading! It would mean a lot if I managed to get some comments or reposts!

#SCREAM #he is ME #i am HIM #op81 #f1

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