orbitingspacejunk
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He's seen enough horror tropes to know how he should feel about wandering a place like this with a stranger, but for some reason feelings of fear or discomfort just don't come to him. Lando is leading. He'll follow. He doesn't mind.
Bookmarked by orbitingspacejunk
17 Jul 2026
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a woodstove, a clean gas flame. by nomichaelno (mourningliliesmorningglories)
Fandoms: Formula 1 RPF
01 Apr 2026
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I’m in my mill village out late with the dog, listening to the pinging wind bells, thinking of the twelve years of wanting, apart and together. We’ve kissed all weekend; we want to drive the hundred miles and try it again.
Bookmarked by orbitingspacejunk
17 Jun 2026
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Summary
Lando wakes up to the sound of rain and the weight of Oscar’s arm across his stomach.
For a moment, that’s all there is. Grey light leaking around the curtains, the soft drum of drizzle on the glass, the radiator grumbling in the corner. The flat feels small and warm and theirs.
He lies there, smiling at the ceiling, counting quietly in his head.
One, two, three—
On four, Oscar usually lets out this little grumpy exhale, buries his face deeper into the pillow and mutters something about “five more minutes.”
Today, he doesn’t.
OR
Oscar buys tulips. Lando provides unsolicited commentary. There’s a grave. It’s fine.
Bookmarked by orbitingspacejunk
18 Apr 2026