#// illegal

[rose24207]

Reader is driving Illegal Night Racer!Lando’s car for the girlfriend drive. Reader has never driven Lando’s car before. (She doesn’t crash the car. Up to you if she wins.) I think it would be fun if Lando and Reader don’t actually know each other, and it’s like a meet cute. But if you’d rather they be dating then go for it!

That‘s my girl

Summary: The girlfriends of illegal street racers compete in a high-stakes race, with you driving Lando’s car to victory and surprising everyone, including Lando, with your skills.

Genre: Streetracer!Lando, fluff

TW: illegal race

A/N: I hope it is just how you imagined it! English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Masterlist

The atmosphere in the underground racing club was electric that night, buzzing with energy as the men and women gathered for an event that had turned into something far more exciting than anyone had anticipated.

It all started with a throwaway comment from Lando Norris, as cocky and playful as ever, about how it would be fun to see the girlfriends race against each other.

“You all think you can keep up with us, huh?” he’d said, leaning back in his chair with that signature smirk. “How about we see who’s got the real skills behind the wheel?”

The men—Lando and his crew—laughed, clearly enjoying the thought of putting their girlfriends to the test.

What started as a joke had quickly turned into a full-on underground event.

The stakes?

A lot of money and, of course, pride.

“You serious?” You’d asked, narrowing your eyes as you looked at Lando. “You want me to race against all the other girls?”

Lando’s grin only grew wider, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Why not? It’ll be fun. You’re a great driver. Plus, there’s cash on the line. Think you can handle it?”

You had hesitated, unsure at first.

Sure, you’d driven before—really driven. But racing? On an illegal circuit, no less? The thrill was undeniable, but so was the fear.

But there was no backing down now.

The others were game, and you didn’t want to be the one to wimp out.

“I’ll race,” you’d said, your voice confident, though you could feel a rush of nerves in your chest.

Lando had clapped his hands together, clearly pleased. “That’s my girl.”

Tonight, the underground lot was full of the usual illegal-race suspects—high-stakes gamblers, car enthusiasts, and anyone else who got a thrill from watching cars break the law and make money while doing it.

The men had gathered around their own cars, making bets and placing their chips. But this race was something different.

The women were getting ready, strapping into the cars their boyfriends—Lando included—had handed them. There was no official race gear, no helmets or racing suits. Just the cars, the roads, and the adrenaline that surged through your veins as you prepared for what was to come.

Lando’s car, a black, sleek beast that was almost as much a part of him as his own hands, sat ready at the starting line. He stood next to it, talking to a few of the other guys, but his eyes were always on you, watching with that half-smile that made your stomach flip.

The other girls were getting ready, too, some a little more nervous than others, but all equally determined to show they could handle the power beneath their hoods. There was a buzz in the air, a sense of competition that was palpable. Everyone was here to win, but for you, it wasn’t just about the cash—it was about showing you belonged.

You adjusted yourself in the seat, the leather feeling tight and unfamiliar. No helmet, no comms, just the cold, hard reality of racing.

You weren’t sure whether to be excited or terrified, but you knew one thing for sure—you were going to give it everything you had.

Lando came up to the car, leaning down to give you a quick kiss on the cheek before pulling back with a grin. “You’ve got this, babe,” he said, his voice low and confident. “Just keep your focus, and don’t let anything distract you.”

“Don’t worry,” you replied with a smile. “I’m not here to lose.”

He chuckled, ruffling your hair. “That’s the spirit.”

The start line was set.

The other women were already in their cars, engines revving in anticipation. You looked around—you could see the guys in the crowd, all leaning against cars or standing with drinks in hand, watching with eager eyes. They were rooting for their girlfriends, of course, but you could tell there was a competitive edge in the air.

This wasn’t just for fun; it was a way for everyone to show who was really in control.

The countdown began.

“Five… four… three… two… one!”

The signal flashed, and with a roar of engines, the cars tore down the road. The air was thick with the smell of burning rubber and exhaust as you hit the accelerator, the car shooting forward like a bullet. You could hear the other cars close behind you, but you didn’t dare look back.

Focus.

That’s all that mattered right now.

The first corner came up fast, and you gripped the wheel tighter, the power of Lando’s car responding instantly to your movements.

The road was winding, narrow in places, but you knew this—had studied this path countless times when Lando had taken you out for drives just like this, pushing you to your limits and beyond.

The first few turns felt smooth, effortless. You were in the zone now, each move instinctive, the adrenaline pumping through your veins like a drug. The other girls were close behind, but you were pulling away, gaining speed as you hit the straights. The wind whipped through the open windows, but you didn’t feel it—didn’t need to.

All that mattered was the race.

You could hear the engines of the other cars behind you, the sound growing louder as they pushed forward, trying to close the gap. The second lap was more intense, the turns sharper, the road more treacherous.

The girls weren’t holding back, and you couldn’t either.

There was no room for error.

A sharp left turn came up, and you turned the wheel just a fraction too late. The car slid slightly, but you corrected it quickly, your heart pounding in your chest.

That was close.

As you rounded the next corner, you glanced at the rearview mirror. One of the other girls was on your tail, practically riding your bumper, but you weren’t going to let that scare you. This was it—everything you’d trained for in your own way. It was time to show them all you had what it took.

You pushed harder, the car responding like it was an extension of yourself. The final lap loomed ahead, and the finish line was closer than ever. Your heart was racing, but your focus was locked in—no distractions, no second-guessing.

You were almost there.

And then, with one final burst of speed, you crossed the finish line. The roar of the engine quieted, and the world seemed to slow down as you took your foot off the gas and let the car coast to a stop.

You had won.

As you stepped out of the car, the crowd went wild. The guys, who had been cheering for their girlfriends, now erupted into applause, whistling and shouting. Lando was already making his way toward you, his face lit up with pride.

“You did it! You actually did it!” Lando shouted, pulling you into his arms and spinning you around in excitement.

You laughed, still catching your breath from the high of the race. “I can’t believe it,” you said, your heart still pounding in your chest. “That was insane.”

“Insane?” Lando repeated, grinning from ear to ear. “You were amazing. You smoked everyone.”

You grinned, the rush of victory still surging through you. “Well, I’m just glad I didn’t crash your car,” you teased.

Lando laughed, shaking his head. “I knew you could do it. You were born to drive.”

As the other girls came over to congratulate you, you could see the pride in their eyes. They knew they had just raced against one of the best, and although the stakes had been high, there was no denying that you had earned the win fair and square.

Lando pulled out an envelope stuffed with cash from his pocket, handing it to you with a wink. “You earned every penny of this,” he said, his voice full of admiration.

You opened the envelope, your eyes widening at the thick wad of cash inside. You’d won more than just the race; you’d earned respect, bragging rights, and a hefty payout.

“Guess we’re celebrating tonight,” you said with a grin, feeling the exhilaration of the win still coursing through your veins.

Lando’s smirk was unmistakable. “Oh, we are. You deserve it.”

You looked at him, a mischievous glint in your eye. “I’ll take you up on that.”

As the night continued and the cheers died down, you felt a rush of pride. You’d shown everyone—not just Lando, but yourself—that you could handle anything the road threw at you.

And that wasn’t just a win—it was proof that you had what it took to belong here.

Thank you for reading!

[classycookiexo]

[otto-doctavius]

drawing Logan the same height as Wade (like in the movies) ✅

drawing Logan SHORTER than Wade (like in the comics) ✅✅✅✅

drawing Logan TALLER than Wade???? ❌🚫💣💥💥💥*loud incorrect buzzer sound*

[countingstars-17]

via wavymichele on tiktok

[teddybeartoji]

office au! with coworker!gojo

he's the type to always be a little late. by a little, i of course mean a lot. he always bursts in the door with the biggest smile on his lips and four coffees in his hand. he winks at his coworkers, who then always blush and giggle out a hi, satoru! and you always roll your eyes at that. satoru nods his male coworkers, who always try to dap him up and start a conversation but he doesn't have time for that. he has things to do. (as if he isn't literally Late smh)

he answers the guys' question while he's walking – his eyes set on his favourite coworker. you. sitting in your cubicle, you're trying to ignore him and his dramatic enterance. that he does every single day. how annoying can he be? before you can roll your eyes again, a cup of coffee has landed on your table, making you glance over your shoulder.

he's blinding you, his grin is stretched so wide it's almost a bit creepy. he's standing right behind you, leaning his hand on your table right next to where he just placed the coffee. he's way too close for a co-worker and you gulp.

ugh.

"aren't you gonna thank your favourite coworker for bringing you coffee? whew, tough crowd, huh." his smile doesn't falter and he just leans in closer, his cologne clouding your senses.

UGH.

and he really does do it every single fucking day. he brings you coffee and he annoys you and he makes your eyes roll so hard you almost go blind and you hate to admit that he's kinda cute... it's whatever.

back to the coffees. so one of them is for you – he knows your order because he dug out the receipt from your bag when you weren't looking on his second day there. he almost got caught, too. but he only did that because you didn't wanna tell him your order!! and he was so insistent on bringing you coffee that he just had to find another way. he loved the way your eyes widened and how you tried to mask your surprised expression but nothing gets past his keen eyes. when you asked how he did it, he just told you that he guessed it. yeah, right....

the second coffee is for him. it's an insanely sweet latte. how do you know? he made you try it. more liked begged for you to try it. you also hate to admit that his puppy-dog eyes worked on you... he only drinks the special latte from the corner coffee shop and he refuses to drink the office "coffee". he's fancy like that.

the third coffee is for his second favourite coworker – kento nanami! they sure make an interesting pair. kento is the main reason why satoru even got the job. the latter begged him to pitch for him to the boss; he was so excited by the concept of Office Work and just had to try it out. he, of course, passed the interview with flying colors and kento regrets his decision to "help" him out in the first place. satoru yaps his ears off whenever he isn't doing the same to you and he's constantly leaving little notes for the man. you once saw one and it just had a miniature penis drawn on it. very mature.

and the fourth coffee is for your boss. satoru isn't sucking up like you originally thought he was. you think he just wants to bring her coffee? your boss is cool – she's in her forties and she has a strong voice, everybody always listens to her and she really does make for a very good boss. your guess is that satoru has a crush on her. (you're wrong. he also just thinks she's super fucking cool. literally nothing else to it.)

he's always wearing a fancy white button-up with a black tie loosely hanging around his neck and a pair of matching black slacks that hug his thighs so nicely that the women and the men of the office are always finding it hard to not stare at them. he gets an obnoxious ego boost from this.

he's constantly leaning on other people's desks, pushing his hips out and it really is hard to concentrate whenever he does it. the pose and the smug smirk he sends you when he catches you looking is making you feel hot. he always catches you too, it's so annoying. why can't he just continue doing whatever he's doing so you can admire him in peace?

he's loud, he's annoying and he's so fucking good at his job that firing him couldn't even be a passing thought. he actually does his paperwork rather fast; often finishing before you and that gives him the time to tease you for being slow. he does that way less than you expected though. only a few times in a day – enough to annoy you but never enough to actually make you upset or angry. he actually helps you sometimes. he can tell you don't wanna ask and he doesn't wanna make you feel bad - he'd rather watch you roll your pretty eyes at his stupid jokes with a small hidden smile than roll them with a deep frustrated sigh. he learned that the hard way.

he loves your smile. more often than not you can't keep the straight face you try to put up with him, making your loud laughter resonate throughout the whole office. oh, how his eyes shine at that.

long story short. he's infuriating. he's funny. he's way too good at his job. he's way too handsome. you loathe working with him and yet, you can't stop smothering him in kisses whenever you two "happen" to meet in the printer room.

[xx-sketchy-xx]

Astronaut Wally!!

and a few doodles of Wally below

Oh and this is without the background cause I honestly like it more lol

[one-time-i-dreamt]

It was suddenly illegal to be a cop. All the cops started arresting each other for violating the law.

[i-was-today-years-old-when]

i learned that a pub in London was illegally demolished just days before it was to be listed as an historic site. They developer was forced to rebuild it brick by brick to its original state (x)

[tulisydan]

WHY IS HE LOOKING AT HIM LIKE THAT

[lyss-butterscotch]

A lil ooc i think but the espressos deserves to not be depressos this time :)

[dumblr]

What do you call a sick eagle?

illegal.

[tea-time-terrier]

Cannot in good conscience keep this little creature but still...👀

[formulapookie]

ALECEDRO YOURE GONNA KILL ME

GOOD GOD OH MY THAT ARM

BEZ👹

👹👹👹

THE ARM KDJFJEJDJFJWKSKKEWKLWDKFJIEKWQ

I NEED BEZ TO LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT OOOOOOOOOOOOOO FUCK

[fjordfolk]

I got up an hour ago and none of the dogs have dragged their butts out of bed yet. This is normal for Sparty (doesn't move until we're leaving) but Troj's usually my morning coffee buddy. Lazy bastards. Betrayal.

[vonderful-time]

sometimes i think that gortash and durge were disgustingly domestic with one another, just sending stupid narcissistic praise back and forth and sitting in the same room just doing their own thing and bringing each other small gifts like flowers and the corpses of those guys that were super annoying that one time and-