Hi, What Are Your Thoughts On Lewis Winning A Race This Season?

"Ask and You Shall Receive" - Jesus

Since Carlos won Oscar's home race, it's only fair that Oscar wins Carlos' home race.

most special guy in the whole fucking world

guys i just found out that oscar’s 55th grand prix will be spain….

The Formula 2 sprint race really showed how tyre delta can massively affect the result of a race on a track like Barcelona.

The frontrunners (Crawford, Browning, Fornaroli) fell like bowling pins to Verschoor, Dunne and Villagomez's pace. Within a couple of laps, they managed to move up from ninth and below to the race lead because they pitted for new tyres.

The evidence to support my "Oscar Piastri and Jannik Sinner are literally the same person" hypothesis is that they both have emotional support Spaniards called Carlos.

This picrew and the last song you listened to

Thanks for the tag @lucithornz

No Pressure Tags : @cainrising , @eatingpastr13s , @hitthatapex , @oopslandiia

this picrew and the last song you listened to

ty for the tag @thundress

tagging @forzafe44ari @chandelier-s-notebook @oscgirlie and @scuderiadebauchery no pressure <3 <3 <3

Hey, would you write a carcar coffeeshop au? Like Oscar is the barista and Carlos a repeat customer so they go from friends to lovers? And maybe Carlos brings a date to the cafe and Oscar can't understand why he's so unsettled with the idea.

Ask and you shall receive 🧡

(This was fun to write and maybe the little push I needed to get back into writing after a long time, so thank you 🩵)

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Oscar slams the pumpkin spice latte he just brewed so hard on the counter the content threatens to spill and the paper cup starts to crumple between his tense fingers.

"Alex," he calls in his flattest voice but some of his boiling anger must have seeped through his voice because Lando suddenly appears next to him, a teasing smile on his face.

"Oooooh, someone's in a bad mooooood~," the Brit sing songs.

Oscar does his best to ignore him, turning back to his coffee machine and his next order. He can still feel Lando's annoying gaze at the back of his head.

"I'm not," he grumbles but that half reply only fuels his damn coworker even more.

"You areeeeeee~." Lando's voice is grating on Oscar's nerves. "Come on, Osc. What's got you all moody?"

"Nothing. White mocha for Nico," Oscar calls over the counter, hoping it would distract Lando.

It does not.

"I know you, Oscaaah," Lando says."I know when you're all moody even if you try to hide it behind your blasé attitude. So why the long face? Isn't your crush here? Shouldn't you be all happy and giddy like you get when he's here?"

"He doesn't make me giddy. And I don't have a crush," Oscar adds after a second too long.

"He makes you smile, you muppet. And blush!" Lando retorts. "If that's not you being all giddy and hot for him, I don't know what that is.

"You don't know what that is," Oscar deadpans.

Lando isn't listening anyway.

Another order filled and onto the next. Oscar moves between the coffee machine and the counter without even thinking about it. His hands know the rhythm.

He tries his damnedest not to look up, eyes stubbornly glued to the paper cups going through his fingers, the steaming coffee and the glistening bottles of syrup. But he can't help it. He watches him.

Them.

He is sitting at a little table not far from Oscar's station (to Oscar's utter dismay). His hair as shiny and luscious as ever. Strong nose and plush lips disappearing behind his paper cup from time to time (coffee, black, the strongest blend you have, please). His square jaw juts to the side sometimes and Oscar can't help oggling at the muscle tensing there.

Then Oscar catches himself, looking back down, only to fall on the man's big fingers wrapped around the cup and that's usually when his thoughts derail. Very impure thoughts. Thoughts he cannot disclose and yet Lando seems to read him like an open book. Because Oscar would never admit it but Lando is right. That man (Carlos, said with an 'r' rolling on the tongue and right to Oscar's insides) makes him giddy (and terribly aroused if he's honest with himself).

But today…

Today.

Today, Carlos is not alone.

Today, Carlos has a date.

A date.

And Oscar is dying inside, watching his crush (the man he has been crushing on for weeks now, trying and failing to find a way to flirt with him) with another man.

"Ah. I see," Lando sighs, appearing once again over Oscar's shoulder, as Oscar starts to oggle for a little bit too long. "Tall, dark and handsome got a date," Lando says. "I told you, you needed to act quicker. You're so slow, mate."

"Shut up."

There's not much force into it and anyway Lando just shrugs and goes back to work. Oscar chances another look at Carlos and his stupid date (Alex, what grown ass man is even called Alex?). They laugh together and Oscar's heart breaks.

For the next painstakingly long hour, Oscar does his best ignoring his broken heart and the happy couple at the little table until Alex leaves and Carlos stays behind. Big eyes lost, looking nowhere, jaws moving from side to side in thought, he is nursing a cup of coffee that's probably cold and disgusting by now.

Oscar's hands act on autopilot and before he knows it, he is walking around the counter and straight for the little table, steaming cup in hand. Oscar puts it on the table and instead of saying 'on the house', like he planned to, he blurts out.

"Your date's gone."

Dear lord, Oscar, get a grip.

Carlos looks up at him, his eyes so round and so brown, Oscar's heart melts.

"Sorry," he rushes to say. "I didn't mean to pry or to be rude."

"Don't worry about it, Oscar," Carlos says, a half smile and half pout on his pretty lips. "It was a great date anyway. Alex is a nice guy but not the right fit for me."

"I'm sorry," Oscar says but he's not feeling sorry at all. His hearts lodges in his throat, fluttering. "Well." This is it. This is the moment. "If you feel like hanging out, you know, to talk or something, you know where to find me."

He points at the coffee machine over his shoulder and flees before he can hear Carlos' rejection.

But Oscar is barely back at his work station, cleaning a bit before the next rush, that Carlos is pulling the stool on the other side of the counter and settling with his steaming cup.

"Hey, you," Carlos says, wiggling his eyebrows at Oscar. "Do you come here often?"

Oscar pauses, at a loss for words.

"You're so weird."

"Hey!" Carlos protests, but the smile still lingers on his full lips. Oscar desperately wants to kiss them. "That's not a very nice way to start a date. You have to introduce yourself and all. Go on, Oscar."

So so weird. Oscar just likes him even more.

"You know my name," he points at his name tag (he can feel his heart hammering under it).

"Nice to meet you, Oscar," Carlos says, undisturbed and laughing sweetly. "I'm Carlos."

"I know. I wrote your name on a million cups already."

"Good. Would you write your phone number on the next one, too?"

Oscar dissolves in spluttering words and heated cheeks, fumbling with a new paper cup and his pen to scribble his phone number on it and give it to Carlos. Carlos laughs, but it doesn't feel mocking, just the sexiest sound Oscar has ever heard.

It's not really a date, but Oscar counts this first real conversation (Carlos sitting at the counter while Oscar still works, talking about nothing and everything) as their first date anyway. And Carlos takes him out on a real date after that, when he calls the next day. So it's all okay.

Oh, Max, please get off the floor. You can't giggle like a lovesick schoolgirl just because Charles upset you on the racetrack. It's pathetic.

CHOSCAR CRUMBS WAKE UP 1681 NATION!!!

i think oscar wants to see the eiffel tower and i don't mean the architectural marvel that was built in 1887...