#gando

[is-f1-full-of-gays]

as part of lando's bday I'd like to create a poll of fav ship of lando. it's my first poll. everyone vote (like all drivers drew tree when seb asked 😏)

carlando

norrix

charlando

norstappen

dando

nortrell

norussell

landex (lando+alex)

norsly (lando+pierre)

landoscar

frando

gando (gabi+lando)

Voting ended onNov 14, 2025

[alexanderossis]

Ooo… that’s an interesting prompt idea with the songs, could you do number 4 for Lando/George? 🥰

Vegas by Doja Cat

Love it when you be cryin' out when I'm corseted

Could've been what we should've been, but you lost a bet, now you gotta find me

NSFWish so it's below the cut 😉

They place a bet on who will be in the lead for the championship when they get to Vegas. George bets on Lewis, of course. Lando bets on Max, of course.

The prize: the loser has to wear whatever the winner wants.

Lando wins, and Lando knows exactly what he wants.

"Lando, I'm not sure about this," George groans from the bathroom.

Lando is perched on the bed, waiting, anticipation thrumming through his body.

"Shut up, George," Lando sing-songs, "You lost."

"I thought you'd make me wear like a McLaren race suit or something."

"That's no fun."

George grumbles something in response but it's lost in the noise of George opening the door, the sound of heels on the tile floor, and the blood rushing in Lando's ears.

Despite his earlier groans, George feels a flush of confidence as he stands in front of Lando, whose jaw is currently on the floor.

He wouldn't have picked it for himself to wear, but George doesn't hate the way that the corset hugs his waist, how the cups press into his pecks. It digs into his skin a bit but he likes how tight it feels, snug and safe. The garter and stockings are a little itchy but with the black, shiny heels, everything feels complete. He feels...

"Pretty," Lando blurts, taking the words from George's brain, "You look so fucking pretty, George."

George preens under the attention, blushing as he watches Lando's eyes roam across his body, taking it all in.

"Get on the bed," Lando bites his lip.

"I wore your outfit, I'm done following your orders," George retorts, but he shifts closer, desperate to feel Lando's hands on him.

"George, I swear-"

"George, I swear-" George mimics but manages to topple onto the bed without spraining an ankle, leaning down to press a kiss to Lando's lips.

Lando indulges him for a few kisses before he shoves him onto his back and leans over him.

"I should have done this a long time ago," Lando traces a pattern down the side of the stocking.

"I shouldn't have trusted Lewis' driving, apparently," George grumbles.

"Please do not talk about Lewis Hamilton while you're in my bed," Lando pinches George's side.

George giggles and Lando is captivated by the sight in front of him. A year ago he never thought he could even have George, and now he has a giggling George Russell in his bed, dressed in lingerie, at his mercy, in his hotel room in Vegas.

He itches to touch, to mess George up, to ruin the corset. But first, he reaches down to where he's stashed his camera next to the bed.

"Arms above your head, baby," Lando orders, and George goes willingly this time, with only one complaint.

"This better not be going on Lando.jpg."

"No," Lando snaps a couple of photos, focusing on the way the corset cuts into George's perfect, pale skin. He knows it will leave marks tomorrow for Lando to kiss and trace. "Just for me."

He puts the camera down and leans over George, "You're all for me." He leans down, pressing his lips between George's tits, where the corset pushes them up.

"Yours," George whines, aching to feel Lando's hands, his lips, his tongue.

Lando doesn't make him wait much longer.

--

Hope you enjoyed! Can't believe this was my fourth most-played song this year.

[national-spain]

(1312 x 837) Un helicóptero Sikorski S-55 en Los Rodeos-Tenerife en 1957, con un CASA 2111 del 29º Grupo de Bombardeo Ligero basado en Gando-Las Palmas, ambos del parque de aeronaves del Ejército del Aire de la España Nacional. Foto col. Francisco Andreu vía aviationcorner.net.

[inferlo712]

Burkina Faso

Sahel

El Sahel o Sáhel (pronunciado con “h” gutural, normalmente «Sajel», de modo similar a «Sajara» para Sahara) es una zona geográfica y climática del continente africano que limita al norte con el desierto del Sáhara, al sur con las sabanas y selvas del golfo de Guinea y de África Central, al oeste con el océano Atlántico y al este con el Nilo Blanco.

Tiene una extensión aproximada de…

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[tobebuild]

Teachers Housing, Gando Francis Kéré 2018

[victormalonso]

southbound © víctor m. alonso

[alexanderossis]

Hi, are you still taking prompts? If so would you write something about Lando/George, friendship or romantic I don’t mind! Maybe George being upset with Lando about something and Lando trying to make it up to him?

Thanks <3

Really love what you’ve been writing recently!

"So, how is Lando feeling?" Carlos asks George as they walk into the paddock in Brazil.

"What do you mean?" George stops walking, and Carlos raises his eyebrows.

"He has food poisoning?"

"He- He what?" George reaches for his phone, opening his text conversation with his boyfriend who apparently has food poisoning.

"He told me that he wasn't going to be on track today because he's sick," Carlos fixes George with a look.

"Well, he bloody well didn't tell me!" George exclaims.

You're sick????? He texts Lando.

"Are you two not dating?" Carlos looks at George over his sunglasses.

"Well, I thought we were," George runs a hand through his hair exasperatedly.

He refreshes his text feed but gets nothing from Lando. Sure, Lando had been distant since they'd gotten to Brazil, George having his own room here as part of his new race mindset. When George had asked to hang out the night before, Lando had said he was busy and George hadn't heard from him since.

"Well, I'm going to let you sort this out," Carlos bites his lip, "But George, sometimes you have to ask twice, okay? He's not always forthcoming with this stuff."

And yeah, George knows that. It took Lando four dates before he realized that George actually did want to date him and that they weren't hanging out as friends. And it took George three goes of asking him to move in before Lando actually believed him.

He waves Carlos off and presses the call icon next to Lando's name.

"Hello?" Lando groans into the phone.

"You're sick?" George asks, but it's not a question.

"Oh, um, yeah." And Lando sounds so sad and sick that George wants to just forget all of this and go to him but he can't.

"Why did I have to find out from Carlos?" George sighs.

"I didn't want to bother you," Lando mumbles.

"Are you kidding me, Lando?"

"Sorry," Lando coughs and groans.

"I'm your boyfriend, you're supposed to tell me these things!" George paces, "I'm supposed to be there for you. And here I am finding out from another driver that you're sick."

"I'm sorry, George!" Lando pleads, "Really, I wasn't trying to tell Carlos either, he just came by my room while I was throwing up."

"So your plan was to suffer in your room, alone?"

Lando goes quiet on the other end. George pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Look George, I don't have the energy to argue with you about this," Lando sniffs, "Have a good press conference."

George pulls the phone away from his ear to see that Lando has hung up.

He finishes media and makes a beeline for Lando's hotel room, using the spare key Lando always gives him to get inside.

It's stuffy and hot in Lando's room but it's clear from the discarded water and Gatorade bottles and the half-empty sleeve of saltines that someone has been here trying to help Lando. Probably Jon, George thinks.

And Lando, his beautiful, insufferable Lando, is bundled under a million blankets, asleep on the hotel bed. George makes himself useful, cleaning up the discarded bottles and opening the windows a crack to let in some air.

Finally, he sits down on the edge of the bed. Beneath the layers, Lando looks so small. George always feels like Lando is small compared to him, but this is different. He looks so fragile and worn out like he's raced for 5 hours with no break. George had googled food poisoning symptoms on the ride over, and wouldn't be surprised if Lando's lost a few pounds throughout all of this.

He leans over to smooth Lando's sweaty curls and adjust the blankets and realizes that Lando is wearing one of George's old Williams hoodies. Something flutters in George's chest. He can't be mad at Lando for not telling him, not when he looks and feels like this but... he's still hurt.

Lando stirs slightly as George strokes his hair. "George?" He mumbles, eyes fluttering.

"I'm sorry, baby," George whispers, "I didn't mean to wake you."

"S'okay," Lando nuzzles against George's hand.

"Can I lay with you?" George asks, pressing the back of his hand against Lando's head where he's hot with fever.

Lando nods weakly, and George climbs into the bed next to Lando.

"You're burning up," George kisses the top of his head.

"I'm so cold," Lando sighs, voice catching. A few tears fall from his eyes.

"Oh sweetheart," George pulls the blankets up tighter around Lando and reaches over to wipe away the tears, "I'm sorry you're sick."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," Lando murmurs sleepily, leaning his full weight onto George and closing his eyes again.

"It's okay," George tucks him close, "It's all okay."

The next morning, against George's wishes, Lando's back in the paddock, ready to race for FP1 and qualifying.

He finds George in the Mercedes motorhome, pouring over some data with Lewis.

"Intruder alert!" Lewis jokes as Lando approaches, coffee in hand.

"Ha ha," Lando rolls his eyes.

George watches him carefully, taking in the dark circles under Lando's eyes and the way he's breathing shallowly like he's trying not to puke.

"Everything okay?" George stands, pressing a kiss to Lando's forehead.

Lando shrugs, "I made it through the first practice."

"Lando-"

"Hush, George." Lando gives him a small smile, "I brought you this."

He holds out the coffee to George who takes it, smiling when he realizes it's made exactly how he likes it. Lando is shifting back and forth, hands behind his back, looking up at George innocently.

"Consider it an "I'm sorry I didn't tell you I had food poisoning and you had to find out from my ex-teammate" apology coffee."

It's stupid and George wants to tell him that it's going to take more than a coffee to make it up to him, that they need to talk about this, that Lando can come to him with anything. But Lando is smiling so sweetly at him and he's gone out of his way while he's sick to try and make it up to George and well, George kinda loves him so...

"Apology accepted," George hums, pressing a kiss to Lando's lips, much to the chagrin of Lewis who yells, "Go makeout in the McLaren motorhome!" causing Lando to giggle against his lips.

Yeah... everything is going to be fine.

Hope this is what you were looking for anon! Once again, I'm leveraging Lando's sickness for my own content oops.

[tobebuild]

Gando Primary School, Gando Diébédo Francis Kéré 2001