#Australian law firms

[randombusinessoflawthoughts]

REPORT: Dynamic Law Firms consistently invest more in Business Development than Static Law Firms

The numbers have been crunched and the results are in: ‘Dynamic Law Firms’ invest considerably more in their business development and marketing activities/departments than static firms are willing to do. According to the latest (8th) iteration of Thomson Reuters Institute’s 2023 Dynamic Law Firms Report, Dynamic Law Firms consistently invest greater sums in their business development and…

[eliteimmigrationbangalore222]

Germany Opportunity Card

The Germany Opportunity Card is a strategic immigration initiative designed to attract elite international talent to Germany. This program streamlines the process for highly skilled professionals to obtain a work visa and relocate to Germany, addressing critical labor shortages in key sectors. Applicants are assessed based on their qualifications, work experience, and language proficiency, with a focus on those who bring exceptional skills and expertise. By facilitating the entry of top-tier talent, the Germany Opportunity Card aims to bolster the country's economy and support its growth through the infusion of global expertise. For the latest details on eligibility and application procedures, prospective applicants should consult the German Federal Employment Agency or the official immigration website. Read More

[ghothane]

Australian Immigration Lawyers: Navigating Your Path to Australia

When considering a move to Australia, whether for work, study, or family reunification, the complexities of immigration law can be daunting. This is where Australian immigration lawyers come into play. They offer expert guidance through the often intricate and challenging immigration process, ensuring that your application is handled efficiently and effectively.

The Role of Australian Immigration Lawyers

Australian immigration lawyers specialize in providing legal advice and representation related to immigration matters. They help clients understand the various visa options available and assist with the application process, ensuring that all requirements are met. Their role includes:

Assessment of Eligibility: Immigration lawyers assess your eligibility for various types of visas, including skilled migration, student visas, family reunion visas, and more. They evaluate your qualifications, work experience, and personal circumstances to recommend the most suitable visa option.

Preparation and Submission of Applications: Preparing and submitting a visa application involves meticulous attention to detail. Australian immigration lawyers assist in gathering necessary documentation, completing application forms accurately, and ensuring that all submissions are made in compliance with current immigration laws.

Representation in Appeals and Hearings: If your visa application is refused or if you face legal challenges, immigration lawyers provide representation in appeals and hearings. They advocate on your behalf, presenting your case to the relevant authorities and working to resolve any issues that arise.

Guidance on Compliance and Obligations: Once your visa is granted, there are ongoing compliance requirements and obligations. Australian immigration lawyers offer guidance on maintaining your visa status, including understanding your rights and responsibilities as a visa holder.

Why You Need Australian Immigration Lawyers

Navigating the Australian immigration system can be complex due to its ever-changing regulations and policies. Australian immigration lawyers provide several key benefits:

Expert Knowledge: Immigration laws and policies are subject to frequent changes. Lawyers who specialize in Australian immigration law stay updated on the latest developments, ensuring that you receive accurate and current advice.

Personalized Advice: Each immigration case is unique. Australian immigration lawyers offer personalized advice tailored to your specific circumstances, helping you choose the best path forward and avoiding common pitfalls.

Time and Stress Management: The immigration process can be time-consuming and stressful. By handling the legal aspects of your application, Australian immigration lawyers allow you to focus on other important aspects of your move, reducing your overall stress.

Increased Success Rate: Having a professional manage your application significantly increases the likelihood of a successful outcome. Their expertise in preparing comprehensive and error-free applications enhances your chances of obtaining the desired visa.

Choosing the Right Australian Immigration Lawyer

When selecting an immigration lawyer, consider the following factors:

Experience and Expertise: Look for lawyers with a proven track record in immigration law and experience with cases similar to yours. Specialized knowledge in areas such as skilled migration or family visas can be crucial.

Reputation: Research client reviews and testimonials to gauge the reputation of the lawyer or firm. Positive feedback and successful case outcomes are indicators of a reliable professional.

Communication and Support: Choose a lawyer who communicates clearly and provides regular updates on your case. Effective communication ensures that you are informed throughout the process and can address any concerns promptly.

Fees and Costs: Understand the fee structure and costs associated with hiring an immigration lawyer. While legal services can be an investment, ensure that the fees are transparent and aligned with the services provided.

Conclusion

Australian immigration lawyers play a pivotal role in helping individuals and families navigate the complex immigration process. Their expertise, personalized advice, and comprehensive support are invaluable for achieving successful visa outcomes and ensuring a smooth transition to life in Australia. By choosing the right immigration lawyer, you can confidently move forward with your plans to live, work, or study in this vibrant and diverse country.

[workaholicintelligence]

Immigration lawyers

If you're in need of expert legal advice for your immigration matters, Immigration Services provides top-tier support from experienced immigration lawyers. Our team of skilled attorneys specializes in handling complex immigration cases, offering knowledgeable guidance on visa applications, residency issues, citizenship processes, and more. At Immigration Services, we understand the intricacies of immigration law and are committed to providing personalized solutions that address your specific needs. Whether you're dealing with an immigration dispute or seeking to navigate the legal requirements for a successful application, our immigration lawyers are here to ensure you receive the highest level of professional assistance. For reliable and effective legal support, visit our website and discover how Immigration Services can help you achieve your immigration goals. Read More

[eliteimmigrationlaw]

Immigration Consultants Bangalore

Elite Immigration, Elite Immigration Bangalore, Immigration services, Immigration consultants, Visa assistance, Green card application, Work permit application, Citizenship application, Immigration lawyer/law firm, Immigration advisor, Visa consultant, Immigration assistance near me, Family immigration services, Business immigration services, Student visa services, Immigration forms assistance, Canada Visa, Australian visas, Canada PR Visa, Australian Visa, Work Visa, Best Canada immigration Consultants in Bangalore, Top Visa Consultants in Bangalore , Best Visa Consultants in Bangalore,

[gotocourt]

Know your rights in relation to Australia laws today. Take advantage of Go To Court lawyers legal advice for free or our after hours legal advice.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

China hacked Verizon, AT&T and Lumen using the FBI’s backdoor

On OCTOBER 23 at 7PM, I'll be in DECATUR, presenting my novel THE BEZZLE at EAGLE EYE BOOKS.

State-affiliated Chinese hackers penetrated AT&T, Verizon, Lumen and others; they entered their networks and spent months intercepting US traffic – from individuals, firms, government officials, etc – and they did it all without having to exploit any code vulnerabilities. Instead, they used the back door that the FBI requires every carrier to furnish:

https://www.wsj.com/tech/cybersecurity/u-s-wiretap-systems-targeted-in-china-linked-hack-327fc63b?st=C5ywbp&reflink=desktopwebshare_permalink

In 1994, Bill Clinton signed CALEA into law. The Communications Assistance for Law Enforcement Act requires every US telecommunications network to be designed around facilitating access to law-enforcement wiretaps. Prior to CALEA, telecoms operators were often at pains to design their networks to resist infiltration and interception. Even if a telco didn't go that far, they were at the very least indifferent to the needs of law enforcement, and attuned instead to building efficient, robust networks.

Predictably, CALEA met stiff opposition from powerful telecoms companies as it worked its way through Congress, but the Clinton administration bought them off with hundreds of millions of dollars in subsidies to acquire wiretap-facilitation technologies. Immediately, a new industry sprang into being; companies that promised to help the carriers hack themselves, punching back doors into their networks. The pioneers of this dirty business were overwhelmingly founded by ex-Israeli signals intelligence personnel, though they often poached senior American military and intelligence officials to serve as the face of their operations and liase with their former colleagues in law enforcement and intelligence.

Telcos weren't the only opponents of CALEA, of course. Security experts – those who weren't hoping to cash in on government pork, anyways – warned that there was no way to make a back door that was only useful to the "good guys" but would keep the "bad guys" out.

These experts were – then as now – dismissed as neurotic worriers who simultaneously failed to understand the need to facilitate mass surveillance in order to keep the nation safe, and who lacked appropriate faith in American ingenuity. If we can put a man on the moon, surely we can build a security system that selectively fails when a cop needs it to, but stands up to every crook, bully, corporate snoop and foreign government. In other words: "We have faith in you! NERD HARDER!"

NERD HARDER! has been the answer ever since CALEA – and related Clinton-era initiatives, like the failed Clipper Chip program, which would have put a spy chip in every computer, and, eventually, every phone and gadget:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clipper_chip

America may have invented NERD HARDER! but plenty of other countries have taken up the cause. The all-time champion is former Australian Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull, who, when informed that the laws of mathematics dictate that it is impossible to make an encryption scheme that only protects good secrets and not bad ones, replied, "The laws of mathematics are very commendable, but the only law that applies in Australia is the law of Australia":

https://www.zdnet.com/article/the-laws-of-australia-will-trump-the-laws-of-mathematics-turnbull/

CALEA forced a redesign of the foundational, physical layer of the internet. Thankfully, encryption at the protocol layer – in the programs we use – partially counters this deliberately introduced brittleness in the security of all our communications. CALEA can be used to intercept your communications, but mostly what an attacker gets is "metadata" ("so-and-so sent a message of X bytes to such and such") because the data is scrambled and they can't unscramble it, because cryptography actually works, unlike back doors. Of course, that's why governments in the EU, the US, the UK and all over the world are still trying to ban working encryption, insisting that the back doors they'll install will only let the good guys in:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/05/theyre-still-trying-to-ban-cryptography/

Any back door can be exploited by your adversaries. The Chinese sponsored hacking group know as Salt Typhoon intercepted the communications of hundreds of millions of American residents, businesses, and institutions. From that position, they could do NSA-style metadata-analysis, malware injection, and interception of unencrypted traffic. And they didn't have to hack anything, because the US government insists that all networking gear ship pre-hacked so that cops can get into it.

This isn't even the first time that CALEA back doors have been exploited by a hostile foreign power as a matter of geopolitical skullduggery. In 2004-2005, Greece's telecommunications were under mass surveillance by US spy agencies who wiretapped Greek officials, all the way up to the Prime Minister, in order to mess with the Greek Olympic bid:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Greek_wiretapping_case_2004%E2%80%9305

This is a wild story in so many ways. For one thing, CALEA isn't law in Greece! You can totally sell working, secure networking gear in Greece, and in many other countries around the world where they have not passed a stupid CALEA-style law. However the US telecoms market is so fucking huge that all the manufacturers build CALEA back doors into their gear, no matter where it's destined for. So the US has effectively exported this deliberate insecurity to the whole planet – and used it to screw around with Olympic bids, the most penny-ante bullshit imaginable.

Now Chinese-sponsored hackers with cool names like "Salt Typhoon" are traipsing around inside US telecoms infrastructure, using the back doors the FBI insisted would be safe.

Tor Books as just published two new, free LITTLE BROTHER stories: VIGILANT, about creepy surveillance in distance education; and SPILL, about oil pipelines and indigenous landback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/07/foreseeable-outcomes/#calea

Image: Kris Duda, modified https://www.flickr.com/photos/ahorcado/5433669707/

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

[folkloresthings]

Hello darling I have a request from prompt ‘we were supposed to be just friends’. Lando x fem!reader, she work as legal for McLaren, they met at the McLaren technology center, and from the begging they had this special bond. During a party in a disco in uk with his friends, he stay very close to her and try to kiss her. After a sec of confusion, they kissing each other.

❛ ARE WE STILL FRIENDS? ❜ ❨ lando norris x reader ❩

where lando has loved the mclaren legal officer from the second he set eyes on her and has finally decided to do something about it.

eight months out of university and working in a coffee shop was not exactly how you had pictured your life post-graduation. you had a law degree from one of the best schools in england, but all it was doing was gathering dust on a frame in your living room. nights were spent in front of the television, only half paying attention, with your laptop screen lit up with job postings. it was like the four years of knowledge was itching to be used, instead of idle hands pouring overpriced iced lattes.

admittedly, you didn't remember applying for the job at mclaren. you were so desperate that you had sent your resume to every posting you could find, barely sparing a second glance at the job summary. it was only when they emailed with an interview date did you do your research. they were a formula one team, and a pretty good one at that. the sport had never much been your thing so you hadn't a clue what kind of work you'd be doing.

but it was work. legal work.

the interview went smoothly, then the second, and the third. they seemed to love you and your education. thankfully the internships you had done during university made up for your lack of experience. they hired you and had you come up to headquarters the next day. the drive from london to woking was full of jitters, turning your radio up to block out the nervous thoughts.

"ah, y/n! welcome to the mclaren technology centre." zak brown was the one to greet you by the front desk, with a smile and a firm handshake. you had spoken during your last interview, the final hurdle with the boss, and thankfully you got along fine. despite your age and greenness in the legal world, zak admitted he saw potential in you. they had gone through six other employees in the past two years for this position, all much older and more experienced. they needed a change.

"this is where you'll be working when you're in-office," zak explained, leading the way through a tour of the centre. it was much bigger than you expected, so modern and open. yeah, you could picture yourself here. "we usually would have you here one or two days a week, the others you can work from home. is that okay?"

"that's perfect," you agree, nodding happily. "i live in london, so the drive is only about an hour."

zak grins, continuing the tour and filling each space with small talk; your education, upbringing, hobbies. he only laughed when you sheepishly told him you knew very little about formula one, and didn't have a huge interest in the sport.

"you'd be surprised how many people here don't watch it," he chuckled, his american accent strange in the midst of the english countryside. "ah, speaking of. boys!"

in the foyer, at the end of the hall, two heads whip around at zak's call. both in the mclaren colours, one was thinner and smiling crookedly. the other, well. he was...

"lando, oscar, i want you to meet y/n. she's our new internal legal officer," zak explained. "meaning if you fuck up in any way, she'll have to deal with it."

the three men laugh, bringing your own bashful smile to wake.

"hi, i'm oscar," the thinner boy speaks in a soft australian accent, shaking your hand. "but it's lando here that you'll have to keep an eye on. i'm always on my best behaviour."

lando. he'd been staring at you since zak dragged you over to them, barely blinking despite for the odd laugh. he blushes then, gently nudging oscar with his elbow. he meets your eyes and his mouth goes dry, lips parting like a fish out of water as he tries desperately to think of something witty to say.

"don't worry, if you don't do anything wrong then i won't have anything to do," you jest, breaking the silence. a grin pulls at your mouth with the words, soon mirrored by the two drivers.

"i think i'd rather you didn't, then," zak scoffs, patting your shoulder. "go get settled, i'll come check on you in a while. boys, we've got that meeting in ten — c'mon."

smiling gratefully, you nod towards zak as he leaves — a silent thank you for his hospitality. oscar waves shyly, turning on his heel to hurry after his boss. lando follows suit, just about pulling his eyes from you, but only makes it a few steps before he's turning back.

"it was, uh, nice to meet you," he murmurs, clearing his throat. "hopefully i'll see you around."

biting at your cheek, holding back a small laugh, you nod. "hopefully."

lando finds himself grinning, walking a few yards backwards just to spare another minute looking at you. oscar calls for him and forces the teammate to hurry, shoes scuffing against polished tile as he catches up.

"stare much?" oscar asks him once they're side by side, a knowing smirk twisting upward.

"shut up," lando mumbles, but his own smile flickers. "she's pretty."

after that day, lando and you became close friends. he would sneak upstairs from briefings to bring you a coffee ("extra caramel, of course") and hide out in your office. he would vent to you about changes zak was, or wasn't, making with the car. you would confide in his about particularly stressful cases you would get handed. on days you weren't in the office, lando would text you pictures of him and oscar bored in meetings.

but the worst was race weekends. very rarely did you go along with the rest of the team, as there was little need for you there. if something went wrong, you could fix it from your desk in england. lando sent you updates from each city, everything from the track to sightseeings. you would often reply with a picture of your rainy window in central london and a sad face. and each sunday, you would sit up and watch the race with your fingers crossed. no matter the time, you were there. and when a race went particularly bad, you would wait up for the phone call from lando, needing a shoulder to lean on.

the staff at mclaren began saying you two were joined at the hip, partners in crime, so often not seen without the other. the best of friends.

"hey," lando chirped, knuckles rapping on your office door one friday morning. he had two coffees in his hand, as usual, perching both them and himself on top of your desk. "you going to the office party tonight?"

"open bar, free cocktails, seeing mark from marketing drunk?" you hummed thoughtfully, sipping at the hot drink. "you bet i am."

lando laughs, head thrown back slightly. the knowledge that you'll be there relaxes him, actually letting him look forward to the mandatory night out. "okay, good. i'll see you then."

"see you tonight," you call after him, watching until he disappears around the nearest corner. luckily, zak lets everyone go an hour early in account for the party starting at eight. you hurry home, sorting through every outfit option and getting ready as quickly as you can. the club was on the other side of london, at least forty minutes on the train, hence your rushing out the door with only one heel buckled.

inside of the club, completely booked out by zak for the company's pleasure, you realised just how many people worked in the world that was mclaren. legal was such a small part of it, a tiny cog in the whole machine. it was quite overwhelming, if it wasn't for the fact that you knew so many of the faces.

"y/n, hey!" the familiar sydney accent pulls your eyes to the nearby bar. oscar waves you over, smiling as you weave your way into a hug. "this is lily, my girlfriend."

you recognised the girl from pictures, but she was even prettier in real life. you exchange bright hello's, hugging in greeting while oscar orders you both some drinks.

"it's so nice to finally meet you!" lily beams, tucking her hair behind her ears. "i've heard so much."

curiosity peaks you, head tilted ever so slightly. "you have?"

"yeah, of course. lando is always—"

her words are cut short by a wide-eyed oscar, shoving in between you both to give you your drinks. "ha, hey! let's go sit, hm?"

your brows furrow, only more confused when lily shoots you an apologetic look. she takes your hand to lead you through the crowd to a booth at the other wall. amongst a few individuals you vaguely recognise, lando sits sipping a beer. he looks up when he hears oscar greet them, but his eyes instantly shoot to you.

"jesus," he mutters, quiet enough that only max next to him hears. you look absolutely stunning, your figure newly shown off by the little dress you have on. it falls to about mid-thigh, the rest of your legs accentuated by the heels you had on. your hair and makeup has been done a bit more than it would for work, and the sight has lando's stomach churning.

you squeeze in next to lily, across the table from lando. he can't tear his eyes away from you, even when max tries to strike up conversation. all you're doing is talking to lily, leaning over into each other to hear properly, face lighting up every so often with a laugh.

"so, that's who's had you so distracted recently?" max eventually catches lando's attention, watching his best friend's eyes widen. "she's pretty."

pretty? lando though. she was gorgeous.

"we're just friends," lando explains, shaking his head.

"bro, you've been staring at her like she's the only person in the room for the last twenty minutes," max laughs airily, nudging him. lando scoffs and rolls his eyes, but doesn't deny the fact. after another moment, you catch his gaze and smile softly. lando blushes, lifting his hand to wave slightly.

"okay, let's dance! this is my favourite song," max suddenly exclaims, standing up with a slap to the tabletop. a few follow suit, and you turn to lily with raised brows.

"oh, no," she shakes her head with a giggle. "i need at least two more of these drinks before you get me up there."

"well, drink up. i'll save you a dance."

smiling sweetly, you slip off of the seat to give her attention back to oscar. lando stands at the same time, smiling playfully when he looks at you. a hand of his stretches out and you can't even fathom denying it, slipping palm to palm and letting him drag you to the middle of the dance floor.

the song is drake or the weekend, something you don't really know, but the beat is so loud that you can feel it in the floor beneath you. falling into a rhythm, you giggle as lando begins moving with you. he sings along, but you don't recognise the lyrics, only the movement of his lips as his eyes shut. your chest thumps in time with the music, the heat of the people around you creeping onto your bare skin. the music mixes, changing into a melody you instantly know.

"i love this song!" you squeal, grasping lando's arms to shake them in excitement. he chuckles, watching on in admiration as you begin dancing again, reciting every single word to abba's lay all your love on me. your hands sneak down from his arms to his hands, forcing him to move along with you. he spins you around again and again just to watch your hair and dress float around you like magic, the lights of the club basking you in a heavenly hue.

somewhere in the midst of the second verse and chorus, lando feels his judgement cloud. he'd like to blame it on the beer, but he had only drank one, and he knew it was that usual intoxicating presence you carried around everywhere. your lips mould around each lyric, having listened to the song so many times (and your endless summer rewatches of mamma mia, as you once told him) that it was engraved on your memory. you looked perfect, the same as every day he snuck glances at you in the office or scrolled through your instagram late at night when he couldn't sleep for thinking about you.

you were it, for him. everything he loved and dreamed of, the only thing that had kept his feet on the ground this past season. and here you were, chest pressed to his thanks to the swarm of drunken guests, so close that he could smell your perfume and the shampoo from your hair. you had used a darker lipstick tonight, he noticed, unlike the usual clear balm you wore at work. it made you lips look even more soft than they normally do - he knew, because he spent a hefty chunk of his day staring at them.

abba fades out, along with the loud and out of tune singing filling the club, and all lando can think about is kissing you. it wouldn't be fair, for such pretty lips to go unkissed. and it wouldn't be fair on him, who has spent hours on end imagining how kissing you might feel, to let such an opportunity slip away from him.

so, he's tightening the hands that are already on your waist to pull you even closer, until there's not an inch of space left between you. his lips around rough, unmoving as they press against yours, eyes screwed shut and cursing the long seconds as he waits for your mouth to respond. eventually, he peeks through hesitant eyes to meet your surprise. your lips, colour smudged a little now from the contact, are parted and your eyes are wide. he can't discern what you're thinking, but he would bet it wasn't pure elation.

blame it on the beer, blame it on the beer, blame it on the beer.

his mouth opens just as all of his senses wire back in again, the end notes of the song just ringing out when he begins making his excuse. but your surprise and panic fills you so much that you can't breathe here, not with so many people around and lando's body heat still so close. stumbling, you push past him and everyone else that you meet to escape the busyness. the neon exit sign beckons you to the fire door, gasping when it opens and the fresh night air hits you.

thankfully, there isn't a soul to watch you and your flushed cheeks struggling for breath, and you wait until you hear the door shut behind you to fully relax again, frankly not caring if you lock yourself out. but the click of the lock doesn't come, only a familiar sound that crumbles you again.

"y/n—"

lando stands helpless in the doorway, eyes pleading for forgiveness when you turn to him. your head shakes, searching for something to say.

"i... you, what—” you struggle to grasp the right words, eyes squeezing shut. "i thought we were just friends?"

"we were! we are," lando corrects you quickly, striding towards you. "but that doesn't change the fact that i—"

"lan, please don't."

"— love you, y/n. i've been in love with you since your first day at work. how couldn't i be?"

his voice is smaller than you've ever heard it before, urging guilt into your throat until you have to swallow it back down. you make yourself look down at the ground, your heels and his sneakers facing each other, because you know you'll fall apart once you see those damned brown eyes.

"lando..." you murmur through a sigh.

"don't you feel it too?" he asks, desperately grabbing at your clammy hands. "us, me and you. it's right there."

you cave then, heart taking over from your mind, chin raised to look at him. lips turn into a frown, searching his lovelorn eyes for the moment he'll laugh and tell you its all a big joke. because he's lando, and you're just you.

"tell me that you don't, that there's nothing here," lando mumbles lower, gripping your fingers for dear life. "tell me this isn't real and i'll walk away. but — but i can't leave you if there's a chance."

your lips part with a breath, lips dry, and your sense screams at you to tell him no. that it'll never work, it's impossible. but something tugs in your chest and you realise something you had never wanted to admit to yourself: you loved lando norris.

"it'll be too complicated." you settle for excuses instead, chewing the inside of your cheek, wincing when you nick the flesh. "we have to work together, so if something happens then it'll mess everything up."

lando steadies your shaking head with his hands, one on each cheek, staring deep into your eyes. "what are you so scared of?"

you swallow, shoulders raising with each shallow breath. "i don't want to lose you. you're my best friend, the only person i can talk to. i don't want to mess that up."

your confession melts his heart, affection bringing his thumbs to graze across your cheeks. "i won't let that happen," lando promises, tongue sincere as can be.

you wait a moment, scouring his features before the trust solidifies. gently, tentatively, you search for the taste you barely got inside of the club, lips ghosting together. strawberry and beer mix on your tongues, hands wandering over body heat and mouths hungrily moving together like two teenagers in a back alley. only when breathless does lando fall from your lips, hands still steady on the round hips of your dress, keeping you close.

"i'll always be your best friend," he whispers like an oath, a boyish smile tugging at the corner of his swollen and lipstick-covered mouth. "but can we be best friends who do that, like, a lot?"

writer's note: wrote this in one sitting and may have gotten carried away but pls enjoy <3

[norrizzandpia]

I absolutely love your writing, I am obsessedd! Could you do a story where yn is in a car crash (or something along those lines), and then a scared Lando? And I would love you even more if yn doesn't immediately wake up or immediately is ok

Kissess

Is it mentally ill for me to love this trope?

What Died Didn’t Stay Dead (LN4)

Summary: Y/n’s close to fatal car crash and the epiphanies that followed.

Warnings: detailed depictions of a car crash, mentions of death, lots of angst, happy ending

Note: GUESS WHO’S BACK AND READY TO WRITE OVER THE SUMMER

There was a distant memory of Lando going ninety in a forty-five as Y/n drove his McLaren to work. Her hands on the wheel and mind elsewhere, she giggled to herself when the image of him pouting at a ticket and its astronomical price sat in the forefront of her mind.

“Could you, for one second, respond to what I’m saying?” The voice of her boss rang through the car’s speakers.

Y/n rolled her eyes. She hated this woman. “I am responding to you. I just have nothing more to say.”

The woman coughed on the other side of the phone, phlegm prominent in the sound, “What you need to generally understand here is that we, as a company and a branch, cannot have you dating someone with such a high profile. Especially when he continually goes against vehicle regulations and laws. We are a law firm, Y/n. One that helps clients who have been involved in car accidents. Lando Norris, Formula One Driver and known speeder, dating someone who handles cases such as ours.”

Y/n nodded to herself, “I get that, Ann. But, I don’t know what you want me to do? You can’t fire me due to my personal relationships and you can’t demand me to separate from him. This is an empty issue, which you have brought to my attention without a concise and cohesive solution. When you can figure out a way for me to continue to date my partner and keep my job as it is without this supposed issue, come to me. But, for right now, it sounds as though this is empty complaining.”

Ann scoffed, “Between me and you, Y/n, it would be in your best interest to part ways with Lando Norris.”

Speechless and shocked, Y/n’s eyes averted to the screen with Ann’s name and number presented. She couldn’t believe the suggestion, much less the blatant disregard for professionalism. With the massive distraction, she failed to see the aggressive driver approaching her right in the rear view mirror.

A sentence she began to speak fell short when the car attempted to move into her lane, one that had no more space to accommodate his large truck. He hit her front bumper with such force she spun out into oncoming traffic. With the rush hour and the lack of free area to miss an out of control car, the McLaren was smashed to pieces after being hit at every angle and every speed.

The shredded mound of parts smacked the shoulder of the road, ending its violent rampage. Ann stayed quiet on the other side of the call, having heard Y/n’s screams and the dwindling of them as crunching metal continued on.

“Y/n?” She whispered into the speaker, but there was no answer.

—

“Oscar! That’s not the way you do it!” Lando screeched, looking at the phone screen and the comments popping up in outrage over the way Oscar was trying to mold his car.

The Australian just scrunched his nose at Lando, “I do things the way I want to!”

Raging laughter from Lando met the ears of everyone watching the stream just as Oscar’s clay car fell apart moments after he uttered his rebuttal.

His pale hands came up in defense, “How was I supposed to know?!”

Lando just continued laughing, “‘I do things the way I want to!’ Dumbass.”

Oscar scoffed and the words formed on his lips just as the door burst open. Adam stood at the threshold, eyes red and phone clutched to his ear as he stared at his son.

“Lando.” He said, his voice breaking.

Maybe it was the tone or the fact the syllables couldn’t quite leave his mouth because of the sobs emitting from him. Lando thought it had to have been the look on his father’s face, the pain etched into his eyes and his soul, that told me what he needed to know.

HIs face dropped, remnants of laughter completely destroyed by the suggestion of Adam’s sorrow. Lando grabbed the jacket off the back of his chair and in a haze, he muttered, “Is she dead?”

Part of him wished Adam would’ve given him a definite answer. Part of him thought the answer yes would’ve been better than the I don’t know he was given.

I don’t know meant Y/n was almost there. I don’t know meant Y/n was fighting for her life and what everyone knew her to be. He hated the idea she was fighting for the existence of her memory and the achievements he knew she was bound to make in the future.

When they left the room, running to the car outside and waiting for them, Lando hated the idea that Y/n was fighting for the future they had always wished to share together. Marriage, kids, settling down, and going gray with her was almost completely out of his reach and that dread prompted the vomit that spewed from his mouth into his backpack as they rode to the hospital.

—

Lando’s phone blew up so much, he had to shut it off, so the silence he was forced to endure in the chair of the hospital’s waiting room was brought about unwillingly.

At that point, his nails had been bitten so far down, he was bleeding. Blood only spurred the picture of Y/n dosed in it as she was lifted from his wrecked car.

The insurance company and McLaren had both agreed it was very clearly not Y/n’s fault and they would cover the cost of his beloved, customized McLaren.

Beloved.

He thought it had been funny when one of the McLaren engineers had said that to him, promising his “beloved” car back to its original state. Funny because “beloved” didn’t describe how he felt about that car. He loved that car. It was everything to him. He remembered getting the car, feeling as though his life had changed completely for the better with the presence of this beauty in his life. He cherished it, he took care of it, that car would always hold a piece of his heart.

Then he realized that the sentimental thoughts he was having surrounding the car was just an allegory for Y/n.

He loved Y/n. She was everything to him. He remembered meeting her, feeling as though his life had changed completely for the better with the presence of her beauty in his life. He cherished her, he took care of her, she would always hold a piece of his heart.

Losing her was not an option. It never would be.

Please, to anyone out there, do not take her from me, he pleaded out to the emptiness of the universe. An empty universe that was trying to take his happiness from him. A cruel universe that was trying to strip the world of her impact.

Please was the only word on his mind when the doctor appeared from behind the swinging doors that led to the operation rooms. A tired look on his face was warranted for the hours of work he had just put into trying to save Y/n’s life.

He stopped in front of Adam and Lando, his tall frame making them stand up. On wobbling legs, Lando began to cry.

”Please tell me she’s going to be okay. You have no idea who she is, what she has done. Please, Y/n has gone and could continue to go so far. This cannot be it for her. She has so much left to do. Please, tell me-”

“Lando,” The doctor interrupted, his hand on his shoulder as a comfort, “Her injuries were extensive, but she pulled through. The recovery will be long and painful, but there’s no permanent damage. She’s incredibly lucky and one of the strongest people I have ever helped.”

A loud sigh of relief left Lando’s mouth, his body slinking down into the chair behind him. He held his head in his hands, his fingers clasped together as he said a silent prayer to a God he thought he didn’t believe in.

Thank you, he gave over and over in his mind.

—

“Do you think I could see her now?” Lando caught up with the doctor’s steps as he seemed to be rushing to another room.

The man stopped, turned to Lando, and then cocked his head. He stared at him for a moment with the wheels turning in his head.

A curt nod and smile had Lando rushing off to the room number he had made the nurse repeat back to him so many times just so he could memorize it for when the time was right.

Now was his time.

Pulling open the door, he stopped himself. He prepared himself for the battered and bruised Y/n he was bound to see. Lando’s mind flooded with vivid videos of her laughing, sleeping on his chest, looking at him like he had single-handedly given her the world and more. He wanted to remind himself of that Y/n, not the one he was about to see. She would always be the same to him and he knew she would come back to him, but, for the time being, he knew he would have to rely on the memories of her where she was truly electrictrified with life.

He finally stepped through and the sight of her in whatever comatose state they had put her in made his teary eyes leak.

His body fell into the chair by her bed, his hand coming to clutch hers. Her skin was cold when he brought it to his cheek, but the red tint to her cheeks was still there.

Her lungs falling up and down grabbed his attention, “Baby,” He breathed, “I love you.”

Silence responded and he continued, “When you wake up, I promise you I will not continue to make the cowardly decision of chickening out of asking you to marry me. I know you know I have the ring. That night when I came home to you elbow deep in my sock drawer was a dead giveaway. I know you know it’s taking me so long to gain the courage and I thank you for being patient, but I cannot go another waking moment with the idea floating around in my head that there is a possibility you will never share my last name. I need you to be a Norris if it is the last thing I do.”

Her body stayed in its place and her hand stayed still in his clutch, but he knew she was in there. She needed her rest, just as the nurses had explained to him and he agreed. The bruises on her face, the casts surrounding her body, he didn’t want her to wake up to this.

—

And she wouldn’t have to. When she woke up weeks later, the bruises had healed, the cuts had become skin once more, and the casts had dwindled down to one. Lando was there too when her eyes squinted open and she groaned out. Groggy and confused, Y/n’s face turned to Lando’s. The two met each other’s eyes and the rest was expected. The rushed words of gratitude, love, and adoration accompanied by Lando’s repeated statements for her to marry her were all seemingly written in the stars. Cliche, maybe, but the way they held each other in the soft sunlight of her hospital room, the now fiancées happened upon the thought that whatever was meant to happen was going to happen.

And they were meant to happen.

[randombusinessoflawthoughts]

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Israel should “cooperate fully with UN investigators” and “provide all available evidence” for its allegations that United Nations staff were involved in the 7 October terrorist attacks, Australia’s ambassador has urged, saying the government wants to resume funding to the agency providing aid in Gaza.

The overnight intervention at the UN comes as the prime minister, Anthony Albanese, shrugged off an Australian law firm’s request for the international criminal court to consider investigating him for alleged complicity to genocide over Israel’s actions in Gaza.[...]

Sydney law firm Birchgrove Legal overnight filed a 92-page communique to the international criminal court, asking the office of the prosecutor to consider investigating Albanese and the Australian government over alleged complicity to deaths in Palestine.

Australia’s decision to freeze funding to UNRWA, approving defence exports to Israel and the government’s support for Israel’s actions are among the actions cited by lawyers in documents sent to the ICC.

Think you'd ask for that before cutting off funding [5 Mar 24]

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[mar3ggiata]

professional help, c1. 'The Pilgrimage'.

simon riley x original character.

trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault, mentions of rape, trauma, sexual themes, swearing, use of alcohol and drugs.

song to listen to when reading this: I think, Tyler, The Creator.

abstract: this is Simon, this chapter is about the time Jude crashed a meeting and started talking about a book or some shit, no one really knows who she is or what she does for a living, she is annoying as hell. don't have anything more to add, honestly. bye.

A year later she appeared on the door of the briefing room. He almost didn't recognise her. First of all, she wasn't what he was expecting when Laswell said someone named 'Jude' was going to drop by cause they had 'something to say'. Fucking weird introduction as well… The captain already knew about Jude, apparently. Had they worked together before, he didn't know. She opened the door and the world stopped. Her eyes scanned the room, she was attentive. She looked smart. No one said a word. She looked exactly like she belonged in every room she had ever been in. She looked like fire. A dark fire, a smoky fire. She was dressed in black, she was stoic. Like someone who works in an office or a law firm. She stood as he remembered her, with her back straight. Between the eight men in the room, no one dared to speak. Yet, she was calm. 'Captain' she was the first to speak. Her voice was low. She had an accent. 'I think Laswell told you I was coming' she continued.

Her accent, where are you from? Southern England? Are you Australian? No, you're way too good looking. Definitely not American English, she sounded posh. She looked like she had just been on vacation in a sunny place. She looked like caramel. She blinked slowly, while the captain approached her, saying that they were in the middle of a briefing and she could wait in his office. No don't go just yet, he thought, I haven't finished. He watched as her lips gently curled into a smile. Not a good smile though, a 'poor man, you really are stupid' smile. She relaxed her shoulders and shifted her balance. She wore high boots. She was tall and slender, she was swallowing the room like a black hole. 'I don't think I made myself clear.' She said. The air was cold around them, like someone opened a window in the back to let in a cold, silent winter breeze. 'I think you want to ear about this now.' She finished. She was still smiling, she looked like reality was whatever she wanted it to be. The captain stood speechless but complied, made her have a seat in front of him. Now that she was sitting closer to him, he had access to more details. She had earrings, lots of them. She was right-handed. She had a tattoo on her left wrist. An arrow?

'I found out something that I believe you could use for your… ', she was trying to find the right word ' …investigation.' Her hair was long and shiny. How can you work in a world of cruelty and death and war? What is your business here? His colleague in the seat next to him glared in his direction, as to say, why is this stranger talking to our captain like she owns the building. At this point, did she own the building? And why is everyone calling you Jude… The captain stood captivated by the presence of the woman sitting in front to him, calm and collected.

'Yes, Laswell mentioned you recently had a session with Amir…' Price was trying to collect his papers on the desk, but she was faster. 'Arash, sir' she corrected him, leaning closer to the table. 'Arash Tehrani'. She slid a folder on the desk in the direction of the captain. A folder with his details? How did Jude have access to those. From where he was sitting, he could see the curve of her nose, and part of her rosy cheek. She looked European. Russian? Swedish? 'There we go, Tehrani. What's his deal?' asked Price crossing his arms on his chest. 'Well, we had a session on Monday, we normally do two sessions per week. He recently requested to see me only once every seven days', she started, but the captain interrupted her, with a look around the room. As he forgot there were 7 other soldiers in the room with them. 'Jude does therapy', he informed them, 'Military counsellor. It's a programme for soldiers who require some… some extra help. Professional help. Please go on.'

So that's what you are, a therapist. You're a psychologist, were you a psychologist when he gave you that ride to your house a year back? Why were you scared back then, why aren't you scared now? 'Yes’, she continued talking, 'we started to have one session only, I didn't think much of it, I thought it was a bit strange considering he really needs therapeutic help, and he knows it.' She paused for a second. She talked like she learned English as a second language by the choice of her vocabulary, she talked like an Harvard professor. Her eyelashes were long, painted with black makeup. She looked down for a second, lost in thought. 'He was stressed. Something was bothering him. He was fidgeting with a pillow in my office, he was stuttering.' She was talking with her hands a lot, making gestures. Her nails were very long, black and pointy. Her fingers were slender and bony. 'I asked him what was bothering him but he brushed off my question, and he usually doesn't do that, he takes therapy very seriously'. Everyone in the room was captivated by her little tale. 'I tried to get him to talk about his situation with his promotion, but that wasn't it. I tried to ask him about his night terrors but he wouldn't speak. He told me…', she reached for her bag, ' he told me he had found this book. To read it, that it would inspire me.' Her voice was solemn. She was worried, she was getting everyone on this little secret of hers. He saw some of his teammates approach the table to see the book. He stood up as well, and so did she. She wanted to remain in charge. She was still very short compared to the rest of the people in the room, yet she had an aura around her. Of power. Of knowledge. She let everyone get a good look of the cover before opening the first page.

''The Pilgrimage' is a fictional and religious novel about revolution and freedom.' All eyes were on her. 'It's about this young soldier who fights for his country, loses his family… betrays his friends…' she said that last part with particular distress. 'He begins his journey in the River Jordan, he says it's the first challenge of the journey… Then he goes all the way through the desert, walks some more and he prays and he ends up in the Persian Gulf. The whole story is basically about him walking and praying until he finds his truth' she concluded, having a look around the men's confused faces. She even looked at him for a second. Does she remember? Her face showed no emotion. 'What stood out to me is that you were recently there, in a town called Al-Jareena if I'm not mistaken.' She stated, the captain nodding. 'You were there to find and kill Mahdi Khorram. The dictator?' she said. Price was nodding, conscious that the recent mission didn't exactly go as planned. Ambushed. His eyes are fixated on the girl. She probably already knew this, since she knew so much. How did she know so much? 'You didn't find him. He got away because he knew you were coming. Am I correct?' She didn't wait for any of them to respond. I hate you, he thought. 'As if someone told him you were coming. You know,' she shifted her balance again on her high boots, she bent over the table to reach the book and open it, 'During his journey the young soldier meets many friends, it's a Little Prince kinda thing.' She quickly looked up to realise none of the present soldiers knew the Little Prince. She resumed, 'He meets friends, but always leaves them behind or kills them in the name of God. All of his friends have English names. All of them don't support his journey. He knows what he's supposed to do, he hears a calling. So you were in the exact same part of the world where the first part of this book is set.' The pieces of her puzzle started to take form into his head, and he could see his companions reacting to her words. 'Your mission goes to shit and you think there's a mole in your base, because all your attacks failed. My patient is just now changing his behaviour and letting me know he recently found this book that tells a tale about revolution and…' One of the men stopped her, 'Are you saying he could be the mole? That he is in contact with the troops in Al-Jareena and he's…' she stopped him again, regaining control of the room. 'He's protecting the leader of his country, yes.'

She was looking at Gaz. 'Yes I think he disagreed with your plan of execution, if you remember correctly he left the briefing room months back when the mission was announced. You told me some of your soldiers weren't happy with the attacks, you were talking about him.' They looked at the captain, she was referring to him. So they had worked together, they knew each other. He nodded. 'He's attached to his country and wanted to find a way to protect it. His family is there. I think he read the book and found the strength to go against the army. I did a little research on Arash…' she started speaking again, he was surprised she was still talking. How much did she know, why was she telling them this, why hadn't they figured it out before her?

He watched her take out of her bag another folder, put it on the desk and open it. By then, the group of soldiers were gathered around her. It was printed CCTV footage, what she had in the folder. 'Your first attack was October 5th. This is my patient on the day before, exiting the base to go to a doctors appointment. You know, the reason he's not deployed is because of a hand injury.' She moved the first picture to show the second and third. 'All the days before your failed attacks, Arash would exit and come back in the span of an hour. October 11th and 23rd. So I drove from here to the hospital, to check the timings' she raised her eyes for a second. Now that she was closer he could see them better, they were green. Light green. 'It doesn't add up, he couldn't have made it no matter how fast he was going. Even got reports back from the doctors, had to pretend I was his girlfriend', she let out an embarrassed chuckle, 'he was never there'. She finished. Price breathed out, a breath he was probably holding in from the moment she started talking. 'It's a pretty bad accusation you're making Jude'. He uncrossed his arms, keeping his gaze on the pictures.

'I know, captain. That's why I did some more research.' She was serious again. She was trying to prove her point. How much proof did she have? Christ, who is she? 'This is his bank statement, now,' she stopped briefly to make sure everyone was seeing the printed page in front of them. How the hell… 'I am not gonna share how I got this. I would like to direct your attention to the three amounts that I highlighted.' She did, in fact, highlight in yellow three recurring payments of 5.000 dollars to a foreign account. She pointed at the paper with her fingers, with her pointy nails. She was a witch. 'He has been transferring the same amounts every month since the mission was announced… When was it announced, do you remember?' she asked, but no one spoke. They did that thing when no one really knows the answer and no one will admit it. 'I'm gonna remind you, it was August 27. Guess when he made the first transfer.' She waited for them to have a look. It was August 28. 'He did it every month since, same day. Same bank account.'

'He's transferring his founds at home for his family or…?' The Scottish man to his left spoke and she finished his sentence, 'or for himself. Cause he's planning to go back and fight for his country.' She was done. It sure made sense, straight out of a movie. Jude had just turned around their mission, with her little earrings and shiny nails. Jude, the therapist. Why was she aware of all this stuff and not them? What the fuck was going on, it felt like the most surreal experience of his life. 'Thanks Jude, I'll make a call, would you mind waiting here a moment?' said the captain before quickly turning away.

She still looked calm. She gathered her things, the folders and the book and put them in her bag. He wanted to approach her and ask her about what had happened a year back. He could, if he wanted to. Make it look like he was asking about her findings. He was Lieutenant, he could ask her. He moved slightly close to her, checking his companions were chatting amongst each other before speaking. 'Do we know each other?' he said. She had to remember him, his mask at least. She looked up at him for a millisecond. It was enough. She had beautiful eyes, beautiful green big bright eyes. She looked at him and she looked like a fox. He could see her makeup on her cheeks he could see her hair brushing off her shoulders, the skin around her nose slightly red, like when you blow your nose too many times. 'We got drunk together in Ibiza and got matching tattoos, I'm surprised you don't remember.' She answered. What? Who the fuck are you, what are you doing here? What kind of answer is that, you can't speak to me like this. He stood silent next to her, she was finishing up packing her bag. She put a strand of hair behind her ear. She looked up again. It was his turn to say something. Should he say something funny? Was she expecting a joke? 'No seriously' he said, he spoke gently, like she was going to fly away if he raised his voice, 'I remember you. I gave you a ride to your house in June I think.' She smiled a little, but she wasn't looking at him anymore. 'Yeah, I know. I remember.' she said. 'What happened back then?' he continued, but his time ran out, the captain was done speaking on the phone. 'That's classified' she murmured. Honestly, he wouldn't be surprised to find out she killed somebody. 'Alright Jude, thanks again ehh…' Price stared speaking, regaining the attention of the group. 'We're gonna keep an eye on Arash and try to find out more… Thanks again' She offered him a little smile and put her bag on her shoulder. Price was opening the door for her. She was gone just like that. A mirage.

'That was intense'.

notes: I did it, there you go chapter one!! so, what’s the deal with this bitch? what happened last year? i feel like a LOT of this fic is just Jude’s life and Ghost is a part of it. she has a lot going on all the time, she's cool as fuck and Ghost just manages to squeeze into her world. ideally, this is set before mwii, we will get to those events in about 30 chapters...a reminder, everything about this story is fictional! everything is invented, none of this is real. if a book named the pilgrimage with the same plot exists then it's a weird coincidence. let me know what you think!!

love, mare.

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[gotocourt]

Driver duty of care in Australian Capital Territory