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The Invisible String Theory of a Strawberry Pastry by lilpookiebee
Fandoms: Formula 1 RPF
30 Jun 2026
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Strangers to friends to lovers dual POV <3
From her dad’s Chicago auto shop to Cambridge on a scholarship, Brynn Fraser has worked her whole life to join McLaren as a new engineer while maintaining a secret identity online, the one guilty pleasure she's allowed herself. In a life built on sacrifice and family duty, breathing was never an option but Formula 1 completely steals the air from her lungs and throws her into a rollercoaster of highs and lows, colorful characters, international adventures, and men who make love feel not just possible, but dangerous.
She's not used to the spotlight that the sport brings, hiding behind her anonymous internet persona, TurboBerry, as one of the most successful sim racers in the world. But amid F1’s wealth, politics, and pressure, she thrives, building unshakable friendships and wondering for the first time if this is where she really does belong. As an engineer for Oscar's car, the Aussie becomes a permanent fixture in her life as her driver, a friend… and maybe something else. When Brynn is faced with a tempting opportunity to go public with her online identity, she grapples with how it could irrevocably change the life she's worked so hard to build and protect.
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"Am I going to die?" Oscar asks, trying to push himself out of the car.
That question made sense to everyone, Oscar was worried about his injuries. That crash was horrible, it makes sense. Oscar could have died then.
He might've, if he was human.
But, Lando was the only one who knew the real meaning behind those words. Oscar is worried that McLaren will destroy him for failing. Simply move on to the next version like they have every time before.
The worst part is, Lando knows it's justified. McLaren has been looking for a reason to kill 'O.P. 8.1', and this might be it.
Or,
'Oscar Piastri 8.1' is McLaren's latest attempt at an android driver. Most versions were designed to be emotionless husks. Designed to drive and nothing more. Lando, Oscar's newest engineer decides to give him emotions.
Soon, they will both realize this version of Oscar can't handle emotions.
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"I just want to kiss you."
Oscar's breath caught.
Lando removed his hand slowly.
"Can I?"
Oscar nodded.
"Tell me I can."
Or: the story of what happens after Oscar Piastri and Lando Norris finally get together in Monaco. Featuring a bakery date, several increasingly questionable workplace violations, an unfortunate green shirt, a red flag, an extremely expensive watch, and Oscar Piastri being horny while wearing a cowboy hat.
Series
- Part 2 of I'm an astronaut (you're the moon)
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He climbed out from the McLaren's F1 and again, waiting for Lando's podium like a lost kid in the shadow.
The light of the podium is bright, but Lando's is brighter.
Once he saw him, his heart lifted. And it just drew a wider smile as he thought Lando smiled at him when it was actually for Carlos who stood behind him.
He will never know if he was always in the shadow, watching the light that never shine for him.
Oscar's chest tightened further, but he pushed the feelings away.
"Tomorrow," he whispered to himself. "Tomorrow I'll tell him."
In the dark, he have the candle, he wanted to light it up and give it to Lando. But where's the match? It's in his throat.
Series
- Part 2 of Landoscar Oneshot
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He goes into the wall. His ears start ringing almost immediately.
He can hear people over the radio, can hear Tom calling out to check if he’s okay. He thinks he might be about to be sick.
Absently, he wills this to be some sort of hyper-realistic, incredibly fucked up nightmare.
He went into the wall.
or
(the aftermath of the aus26 gp, oscar is so loved by mclaren, and his friends, and especially by mark and fernando. they look after him)
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Oscar thought he had his whole life ahead him to become a world champion. To compete against the best, to compete against his teammate. To win it all.
He never thought his whole life would end so quickly. Until it did.
Series
- Part 5 of Oscar's reincarnation
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“Carlos! Last race ticked off the list, you’re done! How does it feel?” the interviewer asks.
Carlos takes a deep breath and nods. “Good. About time. I’m looking forward to retiring, actually.”
“How do you imagine retirement will feel?”
“Like a very long winter break that I will spend with my family, with my girlfriend, and all the things I didn’t have time for in the past years.”or: Lando fell first, but Carlos fell harder.
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Andrea sighs and begins walking back toward the barn. His pace is slightly more brisk than his normal tempo. Lando falls into step beside him. “If you miss that badly, there is no purpose in continuing. You’ll only spook the horse or crash through the oxer.”
Lando sighs too. “Yes, sir,” he repeats, and he can’t help the way his frustration curls around the edges of the words. He knows this. He wasn’t trying to ride like shit. And he especially wasn’t trying to ride Oscar’s horse like shit. Yet, here he is riding Oscar’s young Grand Prix prospect like an exceptionally expensive bulldozer. Jesus fucking Christ.
(Alternatively: Lando and Oscar ride horses and compete against each other. What happens when they have to hold both ambition and admiration at the same time?)
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too high a horse for a simple boy to rise above it by littlekaczka (inquaintsolitude)
Fandoms: Formula 1 RPF
15 Apr 2026
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oscar wrecks. he slips. his old comms officer helps him find mark.
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Oscar was so tired. Not physically, like he usually enjoyed, but emotionally and mentally. He had a day full of media duties, and it was draining the life out of him.
Series
- Part 4 of Autistic character month series
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“And now, for the winner of the race…”
A breath“Oscar Piastri!”
His skin was buzzing. He's flying out, weightless on the platform overlooking the sea of people all cheering.
For him.
It never does get old, does it?
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A collection of vignettes in the perspective of each podium finisher, and what comes after.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,839
- Chapters:
- 1/3
- Kudos:
- 4
- Hits:
- 76
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Summary
"𝘖𝘴𝘤, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯, 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦. 𝘐𝘧 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘐 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘺𝘰𝘶-"
𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦, 𝘖𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘪𝘯 𝘉𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘪𝘭, 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘯 2024. 24 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘈𝘣𝘶 𝘋𝘩𝘢𝘣𝘪 𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘓𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰’𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘣𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘭𝘦.
is their first drivers' championship worth losing everything they've ever built?
Neither of them know the correct answer, neither one of them has the backbone to really make a decision until it's simply too late.Alternatively:
ever since 𝘪𝘵 happend, the disaster that was abu dhabi 2024, oscar and lando have been living on borrowed time.
they make a code word, eightyfive, to ensure 𝘪𝘵 never happens again, but two sick people can't save each other, no matter how hard they try -
the sirens never stopped, we just learned to sleep through them by TwerkForRevenge
Fandoms: Formula 1 RPF, landoscar - Fandom
07 Jan 2026
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It starts as a series of small accommodations.
Things that sound reasonable when said out loud.The warnings are everywhere— loud enough to register, reasonable enough to ignore. Decisions sound fair. Outcomes settle quickly. Staying feels easier than leaving, and one more minute always feels survivable.
They love each other. That part never breaks.
What breaks is the space between warning and action— the stretch of time where silence sounds reasonable, where correction feels harmless, where endurance starts passing for stability.Love doesn’t disappear here. It adjusts. It thins. From the inside, nothing feels urgent enough to escape— until the damage is already visible, already justified, already absorbed.
And still, they stay.
Breathing through the smoke.
Pretending the sirens were always part of the rhythm. -
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Summary
Cuidado con lo que deseas, porque se puede cumplir.
Una historia Landoscar más, o no?
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Oscar walks beside Mark, half-listening as he rambles about sponsor meetings, pretending she doesn’t notice the bright bursts of paparazzi flash around her.
Ahead of her—walking in the opposite direction—comes a cluster of Red Bull personnel, and at the centre stands Helmut Marko, the last person she wants near her morning.
They pass each other—Oscar moving forward, the Red Bull group moving toward her—and as they slip by, Marko turns his head deliberately, eyes flicking over her as he speaks with a bladed smile.
“Schwanzlutscher.”
It’s spoken like a compliment.
Like he thinks she’s too stupid to understand it.Oscar only flashes him a grin even sharper than his own.
In smooth, fluent German (thank you, Mickie), she fires back:
“Yeah—you are. But what about me?”Then she simply strides ahead to catch up with Mark, who watches her with the quiet resignation of her actions, ignoring the way Marko goes wine-red as he splutters and yells after her
OR:
After three brutal years in Formula 1, Oscar Piastri wakes up back in August 2022 and decides she’s going to become the greatest driver the world has ever seen.
Whether F1 wants her to or not.
Series
- Part 10 of A Femininomenon. A what? A Femininomenon!!!
- Part 1 of F1 drivers
- Part 1 of Oscar Piastri
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He drove flawlessly today, setting fastest laps one after another, he could have gotten his second career grand slam. But no, everything was ruined. All because of a shit strategy and suggestions being disregarded by his own team.
Or
Oscar has the venom symbiote and is fed up after the Qatar Grand Prix.
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This isn’t him, he doesn’t spend all his time trying to take a perfect fucking mirror selfie. He doesn’t hike up his sleeves to show just enough of his biceps. He doesn’t agonize over the way his hair swoops over his forehead. He’s Oscar Piastri damnit, he stays cool. According to the internet, he doesn’t even have emotions. Now obviously that isn’t true, but still. All that is out the window, apparently this is him now.
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Oscar is sorta kinda hopelessly in love with Lando and it’s making him act like a muppet.
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Oscar Piastri’s first day at McLaren starts with locked doors, early call times, and a boardroom full of legends. But it’s Lando Norris — sharp, teasing, unexpectedly kind — who throws him off balance.
Between simulator stints, media chaos, and banter that borders on something more, Oscar starts to feel it: chemistry. Not just with the car — but with the teammate who might be more dangerous than he looks.
New team. New colours. New chemistry.
And maybe, a new kind of connection.Series
- Part 1 of Taller in Another Dimension
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“Shit—sorry, mate!” came a voice, warm and unmistakably British. “Didn’t see you there—blame the bloody rain.”
Oscar blinked.
The man who’d barrelled into him was holding a motorbike helmet under one arm, dark curls wet and a little wild, and wearing what looked like yesterday’s hoodie under a black and red leather jacket that had definitely seen better days. His grin was apologetic, showing a little tooth gap and far too charming for someone dripping onto the welcome mat like a soaked dog.
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Oscar is Prince of Norway, heir apparent and 2nd in line to the throne. After his enlistment ended he starts his studies at Oxford University where he meets a Somerset boy in a leather jacket that turns his world upside down.
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It starts with a podium and ends with routine maintenance (and an orgasm(s), duh!).
Rivalry? Check. Composure? Spun out in Turn 3. Professional boundaries? DNF. Post-race discipline? Left in the gravel.
A Miami Grand Prix result that may or may not line up with reality? Also yes— but in my defense, Oscar actually did win Miami 2025, so I’m claiming partial factual accuracy and moving on.
One podium. Two idiots. Poor impulse control and excellent cornering. The FIA would never approve this storyline— and neither of them give a single flying fuck.Written by a girl who absolutely knows what DRS is (don’t test me— I will deploy mine and overtake you on the inside of Turn 11).
English isn’t my first language, so if any verbs start hallucinating halfway through, consider it character development.
Also, please do not use this fic to verify grid positions or FIA regulations.
Warnings: mild delusion, champagne damage, and the author’s total disregard for post-race cooldown protocol.
Take it for what it is— high-octane nonsense with feelings.