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my name is jay (or j), i use exclusively they/them pronouns, respect them or die
this blog will primarily be about f1/indycar but i will post about whatever i want (tag = #magpie yaps), asks are open if y’all wanna chat or smth
i DO have an ao3, you will NOT be getting it until i decide to post something maybe
Sports PSA: i am objective in some opinions i have about people or situations. i am also extremely biased. i will have opinions that some folks Will Not Like. you are not EVER entitled to an explanation on why i feel a certain way. i have no shame or qualms about blocking people who annoy me.
my f1 loyalties lie primarily with oscar piastri and kimi antonelli AND NOW ISACK HADJAR (i have a 2025 grid tier list somewhere if you can find it)
my f2 loyalties lie with arvid lindblad and christian mansell if/when he decides to return
my indycar loyalties lie with david malukas, alex rossi, and the prema cars
my preferred f1 ships include:
carcar, landoscar, lestapiastri, lestappen (to an extent), and the beautiful rairpair of FOPA (fred vesti, oscar piastri, logan sargent, arthur leclerc)
basic rpf rules apply, i dont actually think they’re secretly dating each other, the dynamics are just fun to play around with and explore
more things i will post about include:
shadowhunters
percy jackson
mcyt (<- former inniter, boober, and slimer)
just roll with it (an absurdly powerful dnd podcast)
550 words of FOPA!! just some fluffy balaclava shenanigans, which are to be expected when there are four people dating and they all race cars.
"Whoops."
Arthur cringes when he pulls his balaclava out of his bag, because it isn't his. The obvious signs is that it's black where his is white, it's Alpinestars where his is Sparco, and it says OP instead of AL. He'd thought for a second he might've grabbed Logan's, but no.
He's got Oscar's. And if he has Oscar's, then—
------
"Shit."
Oscar stares down at the white balaclava in his hand, eye twitching as Lando's house music pulses through the walls. He's got another balaclava here, thankfully, but the real problem is that he's holding Fred's balaclava, and if he has Fred's—
------
"Oh, that's not good."
Fred had torn apart his bag looking for his balaclava, unable to find the familiar white where it's supposed to be, and now he knows why, the incriminating evidence laid out on the bed in front of him. It's an all black balaclava with a damning L. SARGEANT printed out neatly at the base of the neck, and Fred pinches his nose as he sighs.
If Logan's balaclava is here, then that means—
------
"Dude."
Logan squints at his phone screen, watching the group video call connect as all four boxes fill up.
"Who has my—"
"Has anyone seen—"
"Osc, I've got—"
They all speak over each other for a minute before trailing off, and then Oscar's face contorts into the expression he makes when he's trying not to laugh.
"Do any of us have our own balaclava today?"
Logan snorts.
"I have Arthur's."
Arthur holds up a black balaclava, the video quality too grainy to make out who it belongs to.
"I have Oscar's."
Oscar's mouth twists into a smile.
"I have Fred's."
Fred flips his camera around to show the last piece of the puzzle, and Logan can see his own balaclava laid out on the bed, halfway across the world from where he needs it to be.
"Well,"
He pauses as the hilarity of it hits him, biting at the inside of his cheek. Oscar definitely has backup balaclavas, but the rest of them are just going to have to be mismatched.
"I guess we need those separate laundry baskets again."
Oscar facepalms and Arthur won't look at the camera, but Fred nods in agreement.
"Logan is right. We shouldn't have gotten rid of them."
Logan preens— subtly— and reaches over to send a little heart emoji on the call. Three others join it soon after, and he can't help the way that even in a completely avoidable laundry situation, having a mixup like this makes him feel closer to them.
The season has been hard, harder than they'd expected, but moments like this remind him why they're doing it.
Even if he has to race with Arthur's balaclava.
Arthur props his chin on his hand, grinning.
"So sad you have all those cameras, Oscar. You could have worn Fred's for the race, you know?"
Oscar frowns, rubbing the material of Fred's between his index finger and thumb.
"I wish I could. Might get fined if it gets spotted though."
Logan's lips twitch into a grin.
"If."
Oscar pauses, and Logan can see his mischievous streak behind his eyes. It's hard to drag to light, especially in front of the cameras, but it's there.
Off topic but I was rereading your FOPA stuff (incredible love it remains one of my favourites) and have we considered Arthur in the non-Omegaverse Omegaverse somehow clocking what it is Charles is doing and preceding to give him absolute shit over it, only to go home to see the rest of FOPA all curled up together in a pile of blankets on their massive bed all wearing each other clothes and go oh. OH.
arthur after spending all day making fun of charles and then coming home to his pack in their nest 😭 peak little brother behavior, actually
1.1k of wingfic!FOPA :) this is set in a search history style universe just. with wings. because I wanted it.
various POV's, gen, fred/oscar/logan/arthur
The large feathers tickling at Logan's nose could easily belong to any of the others, but when he cracks his eyes open he can see Oscar's familiar kestrel wing sprawled across him, and he can catch the faint edge of his cologne, faded as it is.
He rolls under Oscar's wing, lips finding the curve of his neck and shoulder.
"Thought you weren't til later."
His words are sleep slurred, half mumbled into the freckles of Oscar's skin, and he feels a hand sleepily drag through his feathers, scratching lightly along his spine.
Arthur had preened him earlier, so all Oscar is really doing is messing up his feathers, but if they're all home tonight they'll have a group preen, so Logan isn't particularly upset about it.
"Got let loose early, caught the first flight home."
Logan hums a soft assent, pleased. He likes having all his boys home in one spot, rare as it feels during the season.
"Fred's getting dinner."
Oscar's wing slides higher on his back, resting gently across his head and blocking out any further light from the windows. His hand wanders from Logan's spine up his neck, settling somewhere in his hair as Oscar stretches, shifting more of Logan on top of him.
"Go back to sleep, Loges."
------
"You know cuteness aggression, yes?"
Fred looks up, mildly alarmed as Arthur pads into the kitchen.
"...Yes?"
Arthur flashes him a small smile as he slinks around the island, hands landing across Fred's hips to pull him in for a chaste kiss, wings curving up to cocoon around them. The light filters through his light brown feathers, softening the edges of his face.
Fred leans into it, his own wings fluffing behind him, curving to bracket Arthur's before his boyfriend pulls back, lifting one hand to brush at a few stands of hair that have fallen across his forehead. He's been letting it grow out, and the constant hassle feels worth it when he gets to see the softness in Arthur's eyes.
"Logan and Oscar are nesting together."
He can't help the soft coo he lets out, leaning in to nudge his nose against Arthur's. It's been a complicated few months, and they'd worried about Logan, but if he's letting them nest with him again then things must be getting better.
"Room for two more?"
Arthur chirps, tugging him in for another kiss before wrapping his fingers around Fred's wrist, gently pulling him down the hallway.
"Always."
------
Logan is familiar with the flapping wings behind him as he hears someone land. Monaco has few isolated spots, but Arthur had shown him this one back in Prema, and he's kept it close to his heart ever since.
Charles' hand rests lightly on his shoulder as he comes up behind him, lowering himself to sit cross legged next to Logan as they stare at the marina.
"I was always sure about you."
Logan furrows his brows, knees hugged to his chest as he turns his head, resting his cheek against the fabric of his jeans.
"Huh?"
Charles' wings fold neatly behind him as he meets Logan's eyes.
"I obviously did not know about the four of you for a while, but you... you have always had good in you."
He pauses, gaze drifting back to the marina.
"A good heart."
Logan huffs, wings tight against his back.
"A good heart doesn't get you race seats."
"But a bad heart would not have gotten you here."
Charles says it with such certainty it settles behind Logan's ribs. It's true.
When he looks at it now, the aftermath of everything behind him, at the home he's built for himself and the people he's filled it with, he can't help but feel like it might be worth it— that having that elusive racing seat wouldn't come close to soothing his soul the way his boys have, and he knows he wouldn't have had them otherwise.
It's a hard pill to swallow, but it's easier each day he wakes up in their bed, tangled together with feathers in his mouth.
He sighs, wings relaxing behind him.
"Do you and Max trade days to talk me off the ledge?"
Charles' fingers grip briefly into the dirt below him, jaw tightening, and Logan winces at the realization he's hit some kind of nerve.
"We both know what it does to someone without a support system. I am not particularly interested in witnessing it again."
Right. Logan reaches out to nudge his elbow against Charles', still watching the marina instead of looking at him.
"I didn't mean it like that, Charles."
"I know."
He swallows, shoving the shattered remains of his pride deep down into his chest.
"Thank you."
Charles finally turns to look at him, eyes gentle.
"You are family, Logan. There is no need to thank me."
------
"So if Ferrari asks me if I've learned anything about next year's plans by living with you, I'm supposed to say...?"
Oscar glares, trying to ignore the traitorous quirk of his mouth at the mischievous look on Arthur's face.
"You're supposed to tell them you've heard how we're going to wipe the floor with everyone."
Arthur nods, miming writing in a notebook.
"Tell them the team is trying out a neon green concept, got it."
"Arthur—"
Oscar flicks a grape at him, privately smug when it nails Arthur directly in the forehead.
"Ow—"
------
In a rare tune of events, Arthur finds himself the last one home. He leaves his keys in the bowl, quietly slipping his shoes off and folding his wings in tightly to make sure they don't knock into anything.
There's a low, warm glow from the bedroom doorway— someone's left the lamp on for him. Probably Oscar.
He pulls off his shirt, making a brief stop in the bathroom to change into the pajama's left on the counter for him, running through the essential steps of his skincare but skipping most of it.
His jaw cracks on a yawn as he slips into the bedroom, a coo building in his chest at the sight of the three of them nesting together. There's a small gap left for him, and he's able to wriggle in with only minimal sleepy complaints before he's settled, wings slowly relaxing behind him.
Fred makes a soft noise, hooking their ankles together and tugging him closer as a hand slowly strokes through his feathers.
Arthur's fingers lace under the cover with Logan, and Oscar is a warm weight snuggling closer to his back. The window is partially cracked, and Fred blindly reaches out and flops his hand around until he finds the chain for the lamp, tugging it to turn it off.
Arthur watches the rays of moonlight across the nest, gleaming off of Logan's inky osprey wings where they're draped across Fred and Oscar. He can see the stars gleaming through the windowpane, ethereal in their cosmic beauty.
Arthur has never seen anything more beautiful than his flock, tangled together just like this.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
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Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Just wondering if you have any thoughts on FOPA and if Part of a Set may ever make a comeback? Logan is gainfully employed for the foreseeable future now so we can all think happy thoughts lol
rattling logan in my hands like a magic eight ball. YOU MESSED WITH MY PLANNING!!!!
I honestly. I don't know what I'm going to do with him 😭 but I think there's connections and parallels I can make between SH max's choice to leave racing and SH logan's decision to leave. I know I put him in WEC, but I've been toying with the idea of still changing that up a bit– the best path for someone isn't always what they think it is. and there's probably a story I could try and tell there!
please Oscar I need you out of rpf jail to get you back with all of your boyfriends. like FOPA and dark bull. I've been asking for FOPA for months and if you aren't in jail then Logan is doing whatever the fuck he's doing
(much love as always)
oscar piastri win the teammate head to head and you will be reincarnated as a beautiful butterfly and also I'll write you in the polyamorous relationships of your dreams
