#how to improve athletic performance

[champstorymedia]

Equipment Excellence: Reviews of the Latest Sports Gear

Introduction: In the world of sports, having the right gear can make all the difference in your performance. Whether you’re a professional athlete or a weekend warrior, having access to the latest and greatest sports equipment can help take your game to the next level. That’s where Equipment Excellence comes in. We provide comprehensive reviews of the latest sports gear on the market, giving you…

[thesportzplanet]

How Physiotherapy Helps Improve Grassroots Athlete Performance?

Discover How Physiotherapy Helps Improve Grassroots Athlete Performance?! In countries like India, where sports science is still evolving, implementing physiotherapy in early sports development can improve health, performance, and injury prevention. Learn how this essential practice can shape the future of sports talent. Read more on how physiotherapy empowers athletes to reach their potential!

[nasa]

Athletes Go for the Gold with NASA Spinoffs

NASA technology tends to find its way into the sporting world more often than you’d expect. Fitness is important to the space program because astronauts must undergo the extreme g-forces of getting into space and endure the long-term effects of weightlessness on the human body. The agency’s engineering expertise also means that items like shoes and swimsuits can be improved with NASA know-how.

As the 2024 Olympics are in full swing in Paris, here are some of the many NASA-derived technologies that have helped competitive athletes train for the games and made sure they’re properly equipped to win.

The LZR Racer reduces skin friction drag by covering more skin than traditional swimsuits. Multiple pieces of the water-resistant and extremely lightweight LZR Pulse fabric connect at ultrasonically welded seams and incorporate extremely low-profile zippers to keep viscous drag to a minimum.

Swimsuits That Don’t Drag

When the swimsuit manufacturer Speedo wanted its LZR Racer suit to have as little drag as possible, the company turned to the experts at Langley Research Center to test its materials and design. The end result was that the new suit reduced drag by 24 percent compared to the prior generation of Speedo racing suit and broke 13 world records in 2008. While the original LZR Racer is no longer used in competition due to the advantage it gave wearers, its legacy lives on in derivatives still produced to this day.

Trilion Quality Systems worked with NASA’s Glenn Research Center to adapt existing stereo photogrammetry software to work with high-speed cameras. Now the company sells the package widely, and it is used to analyze stress and strain in everything from knee implants to running shoes and more.

High-Speed Cameras for High-Speed Shoes

After space shuttle Columbia, investigators needed to see how materials reacted during recreation tests with high-speed cameras, which involved working with industry to create a system that could analyze footage filmed at 30,000 frames per second. Engineers at Adidas used this system to analyze the behavior of Olympic marathoners' feet as they hit the ground and adjusted the design of the company’s high-performance footwear based on these observations.

Martial artist Barry French holds an Impax Body Shield while former European middle-weight kickboxing champion Daryl Tyler delivers an explosive jump side kick; the force of the impact is registered precisely and shown on the display panel of the electronic box French is wearing on his belt.

One-Thousandth-of-an-Inch Punch

In the 1980s, Olympic martial artists needed a way to measure the impact of their strikes to improve training for competition. Impulse Technology reached out to Glenn Research Center to create the Impax sensor, an ultra-thin film sensor which creates a small amount of voltage when struck. The more force applied, the more voltage it generates, enabling a computerized display to show how powerful a punch or kick was.

Astronaut Sunita Williams poses while using the Interim Resistive Exercise Device on the ISS. The cylinders at the base of each side house the SpiraFlex FlexPacks that inventor Paul Francis honed under NASA contracts. They would go on to power the Bowflex Revolution and other commercial exercise equipment.

Weight Training Without the Weight

Astronauts spending long periods of time in space needed a way to maintain muscle mass without the effect of gravity, but lifting free weights doesn’t work when you’re practically weightless. An exercise machine that uses elastic resistance to provide the same benefits as weightlifting went to the space station in the year 2000. That resistance technology was commercialized into the Bowflex Revolution home exercise equipment shortly afterwards.

Want to learn more about technologies made for space and used on Earth? Check out NASA Spinoff to find products and services that wouldn’t exist without space exploration.   

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

[activewearmanufacturer]

Keep These 3 Points In Mind To Grab The Best Sports Clothing

With the right appearance and features, sportswear enhances your workout performance. However, when buying sportswear, there are several things that you should look out for and pay close attention to. SHOULD BE WELL-DESIGNED Well-designed sportswear will let your body move easily and won’t irritate your skin by causing friction. They will be lightweight and will look fashionable. To hold all the…

[aeth-eris]

★ how to maximize profits via 2nd house ★

aries in the 2nd house can maximize profits by capitalizing on their entrepreneurial drive and competitive spirit. aries benefits from fast-paced, high-energy ventures where they can lead and make quick decisions. they might excel by launching a fitness training program, offering personal coaching services, or starting a motivational brand that sells products like athletic apparel, energy drinks, or performance gear. aries could also find success with subscription boxes focused on high-adrenaline hobbies like hiking, martial arts, or adventure sports. by embracing ventures that allow them to innovate quickly and take the lead, aries can build profitable businesses that leverage their passion and high energy.

taurus in the 2nd house is well-suited for steady financial growth through high-quality, long-term investments and products. they thrive in businesses that emphasize luxury, beauty, and quality, such as a high-end skincare line, organic foods business, or eco-friendly clothing brand. taurus could also consider starting a boutique furniture store that sells artisan-crafted or vintage items, as they appreciate products with enduring value. with their talent for creating a comforting atmosphere, taurus might excel with a bed and breakfast, a spa, or a wellness center that offers relaxation services. taurus maximizes profits by focusing on products that prioritize quality and offer a luxurious experience, appealing to clients who value longevity and craftsmanship.

gemini in the 2nd house can boost profits by tapping into their adaptability and communication skills, especially in diverse, mentally stimulating fields. they could thrive by starting a digital marketing agency, offering copywriting or editing services, or launching an online course platform that covers a wide range of topics to cater to curious minds. with their natural social skills, gemini could also excel in creating a networking app or social media consulting service. offering services like translation, podcasting, or even freelance journalism can keep income flowing, as gemini is well-suited to manage multiple streams of revenue. their knack for curiosity-driven ventures and networking makes them ideal for businesses that involve idea-sharing, quick adaptability, and community engagement.

cancer in the 2nd house can increase earnings by focusing on nurturing and emotionally resonant businesses that bring comfort to others. they might start a home-cooked meal delivery service, a childcare center, or a family-focused event planning service that organizes intimate gatherings like birthdays and reunions. cancer could also do well in real estate, particularly with home staging or property management that emphasizes creating warm, inviting spaces. they could excel in interior decorating, especially with a focus on cozy, family-oriented spaces, or start a handcrafted candle or blanket line. by building businesses that revolve around care, comfort, and family, cancer can create loyal clients and establish long-term success through emotional connections.

leo in the 2nd house maximizes profits by showcasing their creativity and leadership, often excelling in businesses that allow them to stand out and build a brand. leo could find success with a personal brand consultancy, fashion line, or luxury event planning business. they might enjoy launching a social media channel focused on lifestyle or self-improvement, where they can attract sponsorships or sell branded merchandise. leo also thrives in roles where they can influence and inspire others, so they might consider starting a motivational speaking business, an acting or dance academy, or a high-end boutique. with their flair for self-expression, leo profits best when they create high-quality, visually captivating products and services that let their star power shine through.

virgo in the 2nd house finds financial success through practical, detail-oriented services that provide high value and efficiency. they excel in businesses that involve organization, health, and precision, such as financial consulting, tax preparation, or a personal organizing service. virgo might also thrive with a nutrition or wellness coaching business, offering tailored health plans or holistic products like herbal supplements or self-care kits. a digital bookkeeping service, copyediting business, or virtual assistant agency could also bring them steady profits, as virgo’s meticulous nature appeals to clients who seek reliability and structure. by focusing on services that emphasize quality and organization, virgo builds a reputation for excellence that attracts a steady client base.

libra in the 2nd house can increase earnings by leveraging their skills in diplomacy, aesthetics, and partnerships. they could start a wedding planning business, a floral design company, or a luxury lifestyle brand that sells carefully curated home décor items. libra would also excel in public relations consulting or brand management roles, where they can help clients present a refined, balanced image. creating a high-end art gallery, a boutique law firm, or a relationship coaching service could also align well with libra’s skills. libra thrives in partnership-focused ventures, so building collaborative business models or co-founding a business with others can also enhance their profitability and bring a sense of harmony to their financial life.

scorpio in the 2nd house maximizes profits by tapping into their ability to handle intensity and complexity, often succeeding in fields like finance, psychology, and research. scorpio could build wealth by creating a private investigation firm, a psychotherapy practice, or a financial planning service specializing in wealth management or estate planning. they might also thrive in real estate investment, particularly with properties that need transformation, such as flipping houses or managing rental properties. scorpio may also excel in businesses related to holistic healing, offering reiki or shadow work coaching. by focusing on industries that require trust, depth, and resilience, scorpio can attract clients who value privacy and are willing to invest in transformational services.

sagittarius in the 2nd house can increase profits by embracing their love for adventure, growth, and education. they could launch a travel agency specializing in unique cultural experiences, a language learning platform, or a motivational speaking business that offers courses and workshops. sagittarius could also thrive by creating a publishing company focused on philosophical or inspirational content or starting a tour guiding business for international destinations. their enthusiasm for knowledge makes them great at teaching, so they might consider offering online courses or starting a coaching business in a field they’re passionate about. by aligning with growth-oriented ventures, sagittarius can attract an audience that values inspiration and big-picture thinking.

capricorn in the 2nd house maximizes profits through disciplined, long-term planning and a practical approach to business. they’re well-suited for businesses like a corporate consulting firm, project management agency, or investment portfolio service. capricorn could also do well in real estate development, particularly with rental properties or commercial buildings. they might find success by starting a financial advisory firm or creating a luxury goods company focused on high-end, timeless products like leather goods or fine jewelry. by aligning with industries that reward patience and professionalism, capricorn can build a solid financial foundation and enjoy steady growth, often seeing long-term success through conservative but reliable investments.

aquarius in the 2nd house can increase profits by focusing on innovation, technology, and humanitarian ventures. they might launch a tech startup, a renewable energy company, or a social media platform that prioritizes community and ethical interaction. aquarius could also find success with a nonprofit organization focused on social justice, an eco-friendly product line, or a collaborative workspace for creatives and freelancers. their futuristic mindset makes them perfect for ventures in artificial intelligence, blockchain technology, or virtual reality. by aligning their finances with progressive and forward-thinking industries, aquarius can attract clients and customers who value innovation and social impact.

pisces in the 2nd house maximizes profits by leaning into their creativity, compassion, and spirituality. they may thrive in a music or art therapy practice, a spiritual coaching business, or a holistic wellness center that offers services like yoga, meditation, and crystal healing. pisces could also succeed by creating a boutique art studio, a dream journal line, or a subscription service for wellness products like essential oils, herbal teas, and calming rituals. they’re drawn to businesses that help others heal or connect with their inner selves, so they may also find success in fields like astrology, psychic readings, or intuitive counseling. by aligning with businesses that emphasize emotional well-being and creativity, pisces can build a profitable venture that resonates deeply with clients who seek personal and spiritual growth.

[dipnots]

The Science of Sleep: Understanding the Importance of a Good Night's Rest

We all know how it feels to wake up after a restless night, groggy and exhausted. But did you know that lack of sleep can have serious consequences on our physical and mental health? In this blog post, we will be diving into the science of sleep, exploring what happens in our bodies when we sleep and providing practical tips for getting a better night’s rest. Sleep is essential for our overall…

[pucksandpower]

Hypnotized

Lando Norris x hypnotherapist!Reader

Summary: in which Lando becomes intimately familiar with the professional (and not so professional) benefits of hypnosis

Warnings: 18+ content, dubious consent (though Lando is very much a willing participant), and temporary mindbreak

You lean back in your plush leather chair, taking a sip of tea as you look over the notes for your next client. Lando Norris — a rising star of Formula 1, seeking help to improve his performance on the track. You’ve worked with elite athletes before, but there’s something about this case that intrigues you.

The door opens and he strides in, radiating youthful confidence. “Ms. Y/L/N, thanks for seeing me on such short notice.”

“Please, have a seat Lando. And call me Y/N,” you reply with a warm smile. “I have to admit, when your team reached out, I was surprised. Most drivers come to me later in their careers when the mental side gets tougher.”

He settles onto the couch across from you. “Yeah, well, I’m a bit of an overachiever,” he grins cheekily. “I figure I should get every advantage I can while I’m young.”

You can’t help but be charmed by his boyish cockiness. “Fair enough. So, walk me through what’s bringing you here. What are you hoping hypnotherapy can do for you?”

Lando scratches his head, suddenly looking a bit sheepish. “To be honest, I’m not totally sure? The team psychologists have helped with some stuff like visualization and confidence building. But I feel like there’s still … I don’t know, another level I can’t quite tap into?”

He pauses, cheeks reddening slightly. “I may have also heard some … rumors about hypnosis helping drivers get, uh, in the zone in a different way.”

You raise an eyebrow at that. “I see. And what sort of zone were you hoping to reach exactly?”

“Just, you know, being totally focused. Primed to perform at my absolute peak,” he answers quickly, not meeting your eyes. “Eliminate any lingering doubts or hesitation.”

“Mmmhmm,” you murmur, watching his fidgeting increase. It’s clear there’s more to this, perhaps some adolescent fantasy driven by locker room talk. You decide to have a bit of fun drawing it out.

“Well, maximum focus and confidence under extreme stress is certainly one of the primary benefits of hypnotherapy for athletes. Though of course, there can be … other effects depending on the suggestions given.”

Lando’s eyes flick up to meet yours, pupils dilating with obvious intrigue. “Other effects? Like what?”

You shrug lightly. “Oh, lowered inhibition, increased susceptibility to instructions, compulsions to obey ...” You trail off, letting the implications hang in the air. “But I’m sure whatever rumors you’ve heard are just overblown exaggerations.”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. “R-right, of course. So, uh, how would we go about getting me in that totally focused zone?”

You can scarcely suppress a grin — he’s hooked now, curiosity and hormones getting the better of him. “Well, first we’d need to get you in a deeply relaxed state, open and receptive to suggestions. I’d start with some deep breathing exercises, maybe have you focus on the sound of my voice ...”

Unconsciously, Lando’s eyelids grow heavier as you speak in a low, soothing tone. “Breath slowly deepening, muscles going deliciously loose and limp ...”

He blinks hard, shaking his head minutely. “Sorry, what was I saying?”

“Don’t worry,” you assure him. “A little taste of just how quickly you might respond. Hypnotic states can sneak up quite easily when you’re not prepared for them.”

Lando swallows again, but there’s no hiding the interest smoldering in his eyes now. “That’s … good to know. So, uh, once I was in this state, what sort of suggestions would you give?”

You lean forward, holding his gaze. “Anything you need, darling. Perhaps prompts to fill your mind with dizzying focus — a white hot, all-consuming need to push every limit and achieve perfection. Or maybe something to strip away distractions and doubts, leaving you deliciously pliant and desperate to follow instructions without hesitation ...”

His breath catches as ripples of arousal play across his features. You’ve dangled the bait thoroughly now, time to reel him in.

“Of course, that’s all just theoretical for an athlete like you,” you continue lightly. “I’m sure you’d only want suggestions tailored for pure professional benefit.”

Lando opens his mouth, then closes it, visibly wrestling with indecision. Finally, he sits up straight, jaw setting in boyish determination.

“Actually … I think maybe exploring some of those other effects could be useful too. You know, for full preparation.”

You bite back a smile — he’s all bravado again, feigning nonchalance. How delicious.

“Well, if you’re certain. We should probably start with a simple induction and suggestion, see how you respond.”

Rising from your chair, you cross the room to where he sits, movements slow and deliberate. Lando’s eyes are immediately drawn to the sway of your hips, the rapid rise and fall of his chest betraying his arousal.

“Just relax and look into my eyes ...” you murmur, voice dropping an octave as you hold up a pendant and begin tracing figure eights before his face. “Let your mind follow the path of the pendulum, breathing slowly … in and out ...”

His pupils blown wide, Lando is soon leaning back bonelessly, mouth slightly ajar. A few dazed blinks is all the resistance he offers as you trail featherlight touches down his arm.

“There’s a good boy … nice and open, isn’t it? Let everything else fall away except the need to please me.”

A shudder wracks his frame and you can see the tendons in his neck straining, fighting the compulsion already worming into his psyche. But his eyes remain locked on yours, drowning in your control.

“I … I want to ...” he stammers helplessly.

“Shhhh,” you soothe, bending closer so that your lips nearly brush his ear. “You don’t need to worry about what you want anymore. That’s my choice now, understood?”

He gives a tiny nod and you feel a surge of heady power.

“Such a good boy. And to reward your obedience, you’re going to take off your shirt. Slowly ...”

There’s a moment of tension, then Lando raises trembling hands to grasp the hem of his shirt. You can see the mottled flush spreading across his torso as inch by inch it’s revealed to you. His breath is coming in ragged pants by the time the shirt drops to the floor, chest heaving with mingled want and shame.

“Very nice,” you practically purr. “I can see you’re already feeling the compulsions seeping in. Should we make them … deeper?”

His head bobs dumbly and you laugh, low and throaty.

“That’s what I thought. Now, lay back for me ...”

Lando immediately obeys, body going pliant and helpless. You pull over an ottoman, sitting so you can gently straddle his hips, relishing the hitch in his breath as your heat settles against him.

“You’re going to do absolutely everything I say without hesitation or doubt,” you whisper harshly, watching him shudder. “Any instructions, no matter what they may be, you’ll follow with desperate enthusiasm.”

He whimpers, hips twitching upwards in mute plea. Grasping his jaw firmly, you force his eyes to yours.

“This is for your own good, darling. We need to burn away every last shred of selfishness and pride so you can ascend to true, shattering focus. You understand, don’t you?”

“Y-yes … yes,” he slurs, already sinking deeper into degrading bliss.

You reward him with a slow, filthy grind of your hips and he cries out unabashedly. Everywhere your hands and mouth worship his skin, you can feel the tremors of arousal and surrender.

“That’s perfect,” you murmur against the hollow of his throat. “Now, I want you to strip the rest of the way ...”

Before the words have fully left your lips, Lando is frantically shucking his pants and boxers, whining as his flushed length bobs free. The brazen lust and need in his hooded eyes would be shocking from the bashful newbie you met earlier.

You give an approving hum, thrilling at how quickly your control has already remade him. One fingernail traces along rigid flesh and he bucks shamelessly into your touch.

“You’re being such a good boy. I think it’s time we really sealed this new role into your head. Imagine the most dizzying, overwhelming orgasm you’ve ever had, multiplied a hundredfold ...”

His eyes roll back, mouth open in a silent wail at just the suggestion. You grip him firmly, relishing the desperate whine that bursts from his lips.

“You’re going to come like that, harder than you ever dreamed. And as the lightning arcs of bliss engulf your entire being, all that pleasure will become inextricably entwined with an overwhelming need to obey my every whim ...”

Lando is panting and keening, hips pumping up into your tight fist. You can feel his body straining closer to that precipice, cords of muscle standing out in sharp relief. With a final brutal stroke, you growl the trigger words,

“Come for me, love!”

His back bows in a silent scream, mouth frozen in rapturous torment. You gentle him through each shuddering pulse, ensuring every layer of consciousness is saturated with soul-shattering ecstasy and the new compulsions you’ve locked within.

At last, he sags back to the couch, eyes glassy and unfocused. You bend close, lips caressing the damp hair at his temple.

“Tell me, darling, how does it feel to be remade into perfection?”

He blinks slowly, lips curving in a blissful smile. “I … I need to obey ...” he slurs dozily. “Please … use me however you desire ...”

You chuckle darkly, letting nails rake over his sensitized flesh and making him buck weakly. “Oh I will, lover. I’m going to take you to shattering new heights of surrender. You won’t be able to so much as enter the cockpit without shuddering need to please me foremost in your mind ...”

His only response is a quiet whimper, eyes already slipping shut in sated exhaustion, completely yours to reshape however you wish.

You settle back, excitement thrilling through you at all the delicious possibilities stretching ahead.

***

The roar of the crowd is deafening as you make your way through the paddock area towards the McLaren motorhome at the British Grand Prix. Fans press eagerly against the barriers lining the path, craning for a glimpse of their racing idols as they’re escorted by burly security guards.

You keep your head held high, unruffled by the frenzy of flashing cameras and shouted requests for autographs as you stride confidently alongside Lando.

He casts you a sidelong glance, the excited energy thrumming off him in waves. “Thanks for being here, Y/N,” he murmurs with a small, bashful smile. “Having you in my corner calms my nerves a bit.”

You reach out to give his arm a reassuring squeeze, warmth blooming in your chest. “Of course, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” Your voice takes on a slightly teasing lilt as you add, “Besides, this way I can provide my … specialized services should you require them before the race.”

A dusky flush steals across Lando’s cheeks at your words, his eyes darkening in a way that sends a curl of heat unfurling low in your belly. Before he can respond, one of the crew members is ushering you both towards a nondescript door.

With a nod of thanks, Lando pushes through the door, allowing you to enter the modestly appointed room first before following and securing it behind you.

The space is small yet functional — equipped with a well-worn sofa situated before a large television displaying timing data, along with an armchair tucked into the corner. Your gaze lands on the single bed shoved against the far wall and you suddenly find it difficult to swallow around the lump in your throat.

“Sorry about the mess,” Lando says almost sheepishly, running a hand through his chestnut locks. “I haven’t exactly had much time to tidy up.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you murmur distractedly, already hyper-aware of the thick tension charging the air between your bodies, crackling like a livewire in the small distance separating you.

Lando opens his mouth as if to speak, then seems to think better of it, shuffling his feet almost bashfully. You can practically see the thoughts whirring at a million miles an hour behind his furrowed brow, weighing him down as nerves and doubts threaten to shatter his hard-won focus.

Without a word, you close the distance between you, cradling his face in your hands to force him to meet your gaze.

“Let me help you,” you breathe, your voice low and gentle yet laced with that commanding tone he can never seem to resist.

He immediately melts into your touch, the taut lines of stress slowly easing from his features. “Please,” he whispers back, every inch of nervous energy and kinetic vibration seeming to melt from his body as your thumbs trace soothing patterns across the sharp planes of his cheekbones. “Need you to clear my mind.”

A soft, fond smile curves your lips at the naked entreaty in his tone. This man — so cocky and confident in most aspects of life, yet so unguarded and sweetly vulnerable when it’s just the two of you.

You continue your tender ministrations, watching in rapt fascination as his eyes drift shut and his breathing grows steady and even. When you finally speak, your words are low and hypnotic, the timbre of your voice wrapping around Lando like a warm blanket ushering him down, down into delicious oblivion.

“That’s it, darling … let yourself sink deeper with each breath. Shut out all the noise and distractions — everything except my voice guiding you. Focus on the rise and fall of your chest, the gentle thump of your heartbeat … allow your body to grow heavy and pliant as you let me take the lead ...”

He shivers slightly, yielding fully to your hypnotic trance with a soft, contented exhalation. In this blissed-out state, his features are lax and utterly at peace, the hard lines of tension and worry melting away until he looks almost cherubic.

“There you are,” you can’t help but murmur in approval, trailing your fingertips along the sharp line of his jaw. “So perfect and calm for me.” Your gaze rakes over the long fans of his lashes fanning across his cheekbones, the full pout of his lips parted ever so slightly on deep, even breaths. He looks utterly debauched, despite the fact that you’ve barely even touched him yet.

Unable to resist such temptation any longer, you bend to capture Lando’s lips in a slow kiss — gentle at first, then deepening into something more heated, more ravenous as your tongue sweeps into the heat of his mouth to tangle with his own.

He remains completely pliant beneath your wandering hands and questing mouth, body thrumming with blissful surrender as you map every lush inch of him.

Finally, breathless and flushed, you tear your mouth from his with a soft groan of regret. “God, darling … what you do to me ...” you murmur, trailing hot, openmouthed kisses along the stubbled line of his jaw, down the taut cords of his neck. “Just seeing you like this, so gorgeous and willing … falling so deep for me … I could take you right here like this and you’d let me, wouldn’t you?”

You scrape your teeth over that sensitive patch of skin just below his ear and he trembles almost violently, a low whine spilling past his lips even as his head lolls back to allow you better access. When you press an openmouthed kiss to his wildly fluttering pulse point, his voice comes out low and syrupy sweet.

“Please, Y/N … please ...” he slurs in a breathy exhale, body arching reflexively into yours as his hands come up to clutch at your hips in a silent entreaty.

A frisson of lust races down your spine at his wanton plea, stoking the simmering ember of arousal into a roaring blaze. How quickly his mind has slipped into a glorious, aching haze of want and need for your touch.

You could so easily press your advantage right now — undress him with exquisite slowness, bend him over and take him in delirious new ways that would leave him utterly incoherent. The mental images alone are nearly enough to make you growl in feral possessiveness.

Somehow, you manage to retain a herculean thread of control, nuzzling against the heated skin of Lando’s neck as you press him gently yet insistently towards the bed until the backs of his thighs hit the mattress and he sinks onto the soft cotton sheets with a dazed exhale. His eyes are molten embers burning with naked want and trust as he gazes up at you, outright trembling with the effort of holding himself back from hauling you down on top of him.

Gently brushing a stray lock of hair from his brow, you settle yourself to straddle his lap, reveling in the delicious points of heated skin against skin where your bodies make contact through the thin barrier of your clothing. For an aching span of heartbeats, you drink in the sight of him — kiss-swollen lips parted on shallow pants, the tempting vee of his open shirt collar exposing just a tantalizing sliver of his smooth chest, hard planes of muscle rippling beneath tanned skin as he quivers with ill-restrained desire.

“Beautiful,” you husk in a low rasp, summoning every ounce of your rapidly waning willpower to force the words past the molten heat in your throat. “You are so fucking beautiful like this.”

Lando swallows thickly at the unadulterated lust and reverence saturating your tone, his throat bobbing convulsively. “You … you should see yourself,” he finally manages in a strained murmur. “You’re a goddess ...” His hands come up of their own volition to splay across the supple curves of your waist, tracing searing paths across your skin as if to memorize every lush dip and swell.

A throaty chuckle escapes you as you lean into his touch in shameless encouragement. “I could devour you in this moment and I’d still crave more.” Dipping your head to drag openmouthed kisses along the salty-sweet skin of his collarbone, you muse heatedly, “In fact, I’m tempted to lock that door and have you right here like the decadent treat you are.”

“God, yes ...” Lando outright groans at your words, hips arching up in a desperate, instinctual grind against yours that leaves you both shuddering at the sudden, intoxicating friction. His fingers curl into the soft flesh of your hips, pupil-blown eyes full of unrestrained need as he gazes up at you like you’re the answer to his every secret desire. “Please, Y/N … anything, just … need you.”

The reverent, naked pleading in his voice steals the breath from your lungs and you’re abruptly reminded of the singular responsibility you have — not just as his lover, but as the person he’s entrusted to guide and ground him when he’s spiraling.

Your mouth curves into an indulgent smile as you tenderly cradle his face in your palms, tapping into that core of composure and peace that helps tether you both in moments like this.

“In due time, my love,” you murmur, leaning in to pepper slow, lingering kisses across his brow, along the delicate skin beneath his eyes. You feel Lando physically sink back against the mattress with a soft exhalation as your tender ministrations lull him once more into a state of relaxation and receptivity — his mind clearing of everything but blissful focus on you and your touch.

“Remember why you’re here, and all the hard work that brought you to this moment,” you continue in a low, soothing murmur against his flushed skin. “You’ve poured your heart and soul into this dream, and now it’s time to reap the sweet fruit of your efforts. Leave behind all the doubts, all the fear and anxious energy that’s been holding you back.” Arching up on your knees, you gently resettle your weight so you’re seated flush against his core, waves of heat radiating between your joined bodies in delicious waves with every motion and shallow breath.

“Let go of everything but my voice, my touch grounding you in this moment. This is your destiny, Lando — all you have to do is embrace it.” With your final murmured words, you seal the sentiment by slanting your mouth over his in a filthy, openmouthed kiss that quickly descends into pure, unbridled passion as he releases an unrestrained keen of surrender.

His arms come up to band around your waist, clutching you impossibly closer as if to merge your very beings into one searing point of euphoric light. You lose yourselves in the wet slide of tongue and teeth and racing heartbeats until the buzzing of Lando’s phone against the nearby nightstand finally jolts you from your haze of lust and need. For a suspended beat, you simply drink in the sight of him — debauched and beautifully wrecked in the best way possible, with slick lips parted around panting breaths and hair tousled in a riotous mess.

“Time?” Lando finally rasps, sounding as utterly gutted as you feel.

You force yourself to glance at the glowing numbers on his phone screen, steeling yourself against the surge of regret at having to end this delicious interlude. “Twenty minutes until you need to be in the garage,” you confirm with a heavy exhale.

With a low groan that goes straight to your core, Lando surges up to slant his mouth hungrily over yours once more in one last kiss goodbye before allowing you to carefully extract yourself from his lap. You both take a few moments to catch your breath and restore some semblance of outward composure, though your insides continue to feel like a lit match in a patch of dry tinder.

“Ready for this?” You arch a pointed brow at Lando as he pushes off the bed to put on his fireproofs and race suit with admirably steady hands, given how thoroughly unwound he had been mere moments ago.

He flashes you his trademark grin — though this time it holds an air of supreme confidence and purpose that sends a thrill racing down your spine. “Like you said … this is my destiny.” Pulling you close with one hand at the small of your back, he dips his head to murmur gratefully against your lips, “And you helped me find it today.”

With one final kiss that leaves you lightheaded, Lando turns to grab his water bottle and heads towards the door, every bit the consummate professional buckling down to handle the job at hand. You watch him go with a tender smile playing across your lips, filled with an irrational surge of pride at how far he’s come.

A few hours later, you’re holding your breath in the garage as Lando’s MCL38 comes screaming around the final turn and over the finish line — the checkered flag signaling his maiden victory at long last. From on top the podium, his elated gaze immediately finds yours through the throngs of people and hoisted champagne bottles.

The smile he bestows is so private and full of promise that warmth blossoms in your chest and your skin tingles deliciously in anticipation.

After the celebrations and press obligations have wound down, Lando nearly sprints off the track and back into the paddock area, lifting you clean off your feet in a tight embrace when he reaches you. His lips move feverishly against your own, words tumbling out in a reverent exhale barely audible over the noise of the crowd.

“Thank you, thank you … I couldn’t have done it without you. God, I love you so much ...”

And in that perfect moment — drunk on the roar of the crowd, the giddy thrill of victory, and the smoldering promise in the depths of Lando’s eyes — you’re already mentally preparing to give him the most mind-blowing reward imaginable.

***

The champagne is still buzzing through your veins, lending an extra fizz of exhilaration to the crackling charge in the air as you hastily key into your hotel suite hand-in-hand with Lando.

No sooner has the door clicked shut behind you than he’s on you in a searing tangle of heat and desire — mouth hot and insistent, fingers skating across every bare inch of exposed skin as if he’s a man dying of thirst and you’re the last oasis for miles.

“Fuck, Y/N ...” he rasps reverently against the fevered skin of your neck, pressing a hot, openmouthed kiss to your wildly fluttering pulse. “You’re incredible, so bloody perfect.” His hands roam hungrily, deftly stripping you of layer upon layer of clothing until you’re left deliciously bare before his molten gaze. “Let me worship you properly, yeah? God knows you deserve it after today.”

A tremor of need races through you at his naked desire, amplified tenfold by the molten timbre of Lando’s rough, lust-thickened voice. Without breaking eye contact, you hook your fingers through his belt loops and begin walking him back towards the lavish bedroom, relishing the sharp inhale he sucks through his teeth at your commanding confidence.

There’s a practiced, sensual arch to your spine as you work the tails of his crisp button-down free from the waistband of his trousers, taking your sweet time to pop each individual button until the smooth, tanned expanse of his torso is laid bare.

Warm fingertips trail an achingly slow path up the defined ridges of his abdomen as you drink in the sight of him — pupils blown wide with barely restrained want and that delicious lower lip caught between his teeth as his chest rises and falls with shallow stuttering pants.

“Is this what you want, darling?” You murmur silkily, palming him through the rapidly tenting fabric of his pants and delighting in the strangled whine that punches from his lips at the contact. His hands fly up to clutch convulsively at your hips, gripping with bruising force as if you’re his only lifeline in a raging sea of lust and sensation.

“Yes … please,” he forces out on a ragged exhale, body practically thrumming with desperation as you continue to work him with languid strokes while rocking your hips in a slow, sensual grind against his throbbing need.

The headiness of having this confident man quivering and needy at your touch sends a heady surge of possessive satisfaction coursing through you.

“Well, since you asked so nicely ...”

With a decadent hum, you deftly pop the button of Lando’s pants and drag the zipper down in one smooth motion, allowing his rigid cock to spring free at last, flushed and straining obscenely. You swipe your thumb through the pearlescent bead of precome gathered at the swollen tip, making his hips judder with desperate rolls at the stimulation.

“Y/N … fuck, I need … need your mouth ...” Lando grits out, tangling his fingers in your hair with a barely restrained growl.

You can’t help the low, sultry chuckle that spills past your lips at his feverish plea. “So impatient,” you tut, even as you sink gracefully to your knees before him, trailing openmouthed kisses along the hard ridges of his abdomen. “But you’ve been such a good boy for me lately, I suppose I can reward you.”

Another punched-out curse fractures the air as Lando’s head tips back on a low groan at the first hot lick of your tongue up the length of his rigid shaft. You take your sweet time working him over until his entire body is trembling with the effort of holding himself in check, fingers clenched white-knuckle tight in your hair.

“Look at you, so pretty for me,” you purr at him from beneath your lashes. “I wonder how quickly I could have you coming apart completely on my tongue.”

A broken, desperate whine escapes Lando at your words. “Fuck … I’m not gonna last,” he warns through gritted teeth.

With a final swirl of your tongue around the swollen crown of him, you pull off with a lush, obscene pop. “Don’t you dare hold back for me,” you murmur, voice dripping wanton sin as you tighten your grip at the base of his throbbing length to stave off the mounting waves of his building release. “I want to taste every … last … drop.”

The broken whine that tears itself from Lando’s throat quickly warps into a strangled shout of ecstasy as you hollow your cheeks and sink back down to take his aching cock as far as you can. He outright sobs your name over and over as you relentlessly work him undone with hollowed cheeks and swirls of your talented tongue — at this point he’s putty in your hands, helpless to do anything other than clutch at you and shatter apart.

You pull back with a filthy, slurping noise just as the first hot ropes of milky white spurt from his slit, painting your tongue and lips with thick, viscous streaks. A guttural groan rumbles up from his chest at the shamelessly lewd sight, cock giving one final twitch against your lips as you swallow greedily, lapping and sucking every musky drop from his overstimulated flesh.

His knees nearly buckle at the over-the-top eroticism of it all, hands knotting tighter in your hair as if the grounding points of contact are all that’s keeping him anchored to this mortal plane.

Only once you’ve thoroughly wrung him dry with your mouth and tongue do you sit back on your heels, swiping the back of your hand across your swollen, well-used lips to clean away the remnant beads of his climax. Each breath Lando sucks into his heaving lungs is like molten fire in his tortured chest, his pupils still dilated as he gazes down in awe and not a small amount of reverence at where you’re tucked so demurely between his parted thighs.

“Bloody fucking hell, love,” he rasps around a breathy, disbelieving puff of laughter. “C’mere, lemme return the favor … I need to taste you in the worst way.”

His words go straight to your rapidly tightening core, sending a fresh gush of slick arousal pooling between your thighs. You allow him to haul you up by your elbows and press you into the plush mattress, surrendering to his hot, open-mouthed kisses and seeking hands as he divests you completely of your last shreds of clothing.

When his tongue finally finds your drenched center, you keen high and helpless in the back of your throat. “Oh god, Lando … yes, just like that ...”

Lando answers your breathless encouragement by burying his tongue deeper into your grasping heat with a satisfied groan. The wildly intimate stretch and stimulation of his clever licks and kitten flicks against your swollen bud quickly has you squirming and thrashing against the mattress in a glorious, overstimulated daze.

All you can do is pant and whimper encouragements, fingers tangling unconsciously in his thick chestnut locks as you rock yourself shamelessly into his mouth.

Just when you think the maddening coil of ecstasy winding tighter and tighter deep in your core can’t possibly grow any tighter, Lando slips two long fingers inside your slick, fluttering entrance with a guttural groan of satisfaction. The fullness of the dual sensations instantly has you seizing up all over, back arching off the bed as he works you over with sure, steady strokes.

“Oh fuck, fuck me … Lando, you feel … so g-good, ungh!” The inarticulate stream of praise and curses rapidly devolves into broken moans as he relentlessly pistons his fingers in and out, strumming insistently against that spongy cluster of nerves with each punishing thrust. You’re quickly rendered mindless, nothing but a writhing, desperate bundle of raw need and want with every nerve alight at his exquisite touch.

When Lando’s lips finally close over your pulsing clit and suckle hard, your entire world shatters into stardust with the force of your climax. A hoarse shout rips from deep in your chest as the coil within you finally detonates in waves of dizzying, toe-curling pleasure that seem to go on and on and on. Lando works you through it all with his plush mouth and tireless fingers, lapping up the honeyed rush of your release like a man dying of thirst.

For several long, blissful moments, the only sounds are your mingled gasps and pants for air as you float hazily down from your high. Lando’s lips trail scorching paths along the inside of your trembling thighs, nuzzling and nipping at sensitive flesh before finally lifting his head to grace you with that familiar adoring look that never fails to make your heartbeat trip.

“Look at the mess you’ve made, love,” he drags his index finger through the slick mess coating his chin and lips. With a blatantly filthy leer that sends a shiver of fresh arousal cascading down your spine, he slips the digit into his mouth and sucks it clean with a rumbling groan of satisfaction. “Delicious.”

You’re still totally wrecked and incoherent from your release, every nerve in your body humming and jangling in the aftermath like overstimulated livewires. A punched-out moan manages to escape you at his brazen obscenity as your hips lift off the bed in an instinctual, needful grind. “Inside me. Need y-you inside ...”

Lando rises over you in one fluid, graceful motion, hips slotting effortlessly between your splayed thighs as he brackets your face between his large palms, drinking you in hungrily. “God, look at you — you’re fucking glorious like this, wrecked and desperate for me,” he murmurs in a low rasp, cock dragging slickly through your sopping folds to nudge insistently at your entrance. “How do you do this to me, huh? Break me apart so effortlessly then have me begging on my knees for more of you ...”

With that, he bottoms out in one smooth, torturous glide — the exquisite, familiar fullness stealing your breath and sending stars bursting across your vision at the electrifying feeling of being stuffed so deliciously deep. You wrap your legs high around his taut waist, ankles locking needfully as you roll your hips in frantic little circles seeking any kind of friction.

“Oh god, Lando … move, please … need you to move, it hurts so fucking good ...”

He answers your pleading moans with a soul-scorching kiss, lips and tongue consuming you in delicious, velvet heat as he sets a ruthless, punishing pace, spearing into your clenching depths with all the force and stamina that makes him such a world-class athlete. You match him thrust for thrust, your cries swallowed by his plundering mouth as the delicious drag and slap of skin against skin fills your senses.

“I’ll never get enough,” Lando grits out between breathy curses. His teeth find purchase at the dip of your neck, sending a starburst of sensation and pain across your sensitized nerves that only compounds the haze of carnal bliss wrapping you in its searing embrace. “Could spend my life buried inside you like this and it still wouldn’t be long enough ...”

His words ignite something feral, darkly possessive in your core, an echoing howl of belonging and ownership that it feels like you’ve been careening towards since the very first time he surrendered to you in trance. With a carnal growl, you hook your ankles tighter, using your legs to flip Lando onto his back as you rise up to straddle his hips.

His eyes go comically wide before he’s grinding up into you with a gasp, grasping your hips hard enough to bruise as you set a punishing new rhythm.

“Say it again … tell me who you belong to.” Your voice is hoarse, burnished in equal parts wanton need and flinty command — you don’t care which one makes him shatter apart at the seams so long as he answers your order.

Lando immediately locks eyes with yours, gaze fever-bright and seeming to pierce straight into your very soul as he clamps his hands around your throat with delicious pressure. “You,” he groans without hesitation, the pads of his fingers flexing as your pulse throbs wildly beneath his touch. “You own me, down to my bloody bones.”

The reverent oath sends a surge of lust and possession searing through your bloodstream, stoking the incandescent heat pooling low in your belly to fever pitch once more. Your hips move in wild rolls, desperate and ragged as you ride him with reckless abandon. Lando keeps one hand locked at the juncture of your throat while the other skates up your side to palm your breast, rolling the peaked tip between calloused fingers.

“I can feel you getting close already, look at you … my perfect, filthy girl throwing herself at me like she needs nothing else but my cock splitting her apart,” he growls gutturally, his words and the punishing rhythm growing more and more erratic as your combined pleasure crests higher and higher.

Quite suddenly, Lando hooks his feet against the mattress and surges up to capture your lips in a sweltering, soul-devouring kiss as his hips somehow piston even faster into your desperately clenching depths. His name fractures and shatters around the seal of your kiss as your entire world liquefies into ribbons of rapture, ecstasy blotting out all coherent thought until every last shred of tension and want finally implodes in a supernova behind your navel.

Lando gasps against your lips as your release floods him, thick and scorching hot — wave after wave milking the most intense convulsions from his straining cock as his own orgasm shatters loose. You rock together through the shared obliteration of your mutual bliss until there’s nothing left but the gentle lapping of aftershocks and Lando’s thumb stroking idly along the racing pulse at the hollow of your throat.

When you finally manage to crack your eyes and focus on the beautiful wreck of a man sprawled boneless beneath you, the look of besotten awe on his features nearly takes your breath away all over again. Then his rueful chuckle rumbles up from deep in his chest, melting away the last smoldering embers of tension as he brushes a stray lock of damp hair back from your brow.

“What on earth am I going to do with you, love?” He murmurs, the hint of a smirk toying at the corner of his lips. “Now I’m permanently addicted.” He presses a lingering, searing kiss to your swollen mouth before pulling back to rest his forehead against yours. “Though I suppose there are worse fates.”

You answer his sentiment with a breathless chuckle of your own, tracing the lines of his face in an achingly tender caress as the last lingering flickers of passion slowly ebb and flow into deep, drowsy contentment. “Such are the spoils of victory,” you breathe fondly. “Though I suppose I should thank you for being such an … enthusiastic participant.”

“Mmm, I think I can manage that.” His eyes slip closed as he winds his arms around you to roll until you’re flush atop his chest, every supple inch of heated skin against skin and your legs tangled together in a sprawl. “You’ve ruined me,” he murmurs softly, reverently against your hair. “And I’ve never been more grateful for anything in my life.”

You hum serenely in agreement, nestling impossibly closer as Lando’s breathing evens out and you both begin to drift into a dozy haze of sated bliss. The warm, hypnotic lull of his heartbeat against your cheek and the delicious ache of well-used muscles is pure nirvana.

In this moment, suspended in time in the afterglow, you can scarcely fathom how you ever existed before Lando barreled into your life and ignited this intoxicating flame of desire, devotion, and bone-deep belonging between you.

His voice, already rough and worn velvet from your passionate exertions, breaks the contented silence once more as he nuzzles against your temple. “Stay with me tonight? God knows I could use a few more hours with you in my arms before we have to brave the real world again.”

A languid smile curves your lips at his soft plea, warmth blooming in your chest. “As if you even need to ask,” you murmur, punctuating the sentiment with a tender brush of your lips across the thundering pulse at the base of his throat. “I’m yours, remember? Any time and any place you’ll have me.”

Lando doesn’t respond further, simply tightens his arm around your waist as he hooks his chin over your head with a low, satisfied rumble.

With his name a breathless vow on your lips, you allow the bone-deep weariness of pure satisfaction to finally pull you under into peaceful oblivion beside the only man who will ever hold the keys to unraveling you so completely in return.

***

The pale moonlight filters through the gauzy curtains of Lando’s posh London flat, casting everything in an ethereal blue-silver glow as you burrow deeper into the plush duvet.

A lazy, spent sort of satisfaction permeates the air in the wake of your earlier lovemaking — though honestly, is there ever a time when you don’t feel utterly cherished and deliciously sated these days?

Lando’s arm is a warm, heavy brand across your waist, the solid plane of his chest pressed flush against your back. You can sense the steady thrum of his heartbeat mellowing into the deep, even cadence of slumber and make to slip out of his embrace, eager to make use of the en-suite facilities. But the moment you shift, his arm reflexively tightens, drawing you impossibly closer as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck with a low, sleepy noise of protest.

“Mmm … stay,” he mumbles groggily against your skin, voice still rough and sweetly wrecked from the way you had him crying out your name mere hours ago.

You huff a quiet laugh at his drowsy insistence, nosing affectionately at his tousled curls. “I’ll be right back, you insatiable thing,” you rasp, carefully extracting yourself from his octopus-like clutches to plant a lingering kiss to his slack, pillow-creased cheek. “Promise I’m not going anywhere without you.”

Lando grumbles something indistinct but doesn’t protest further, already slipping back into the lull of sleep with a final contented sigh muffled against the plush bedding. You take a moment to simply drink in the sight of him sprawled out so unguardedly – all toned muscle and tousled chestnut curls, the crisp white sheets tangling artfully around his hips to offer tempting peeks of tanned skin and lean, powerful thighs.

He’s gorgeous like this, you muse with a soft smile, feeling that oh-so-familiar spark of possessive want begin to simmer low in your belly. A dizzying rush of affection and belonging surges through you as your gaze rakes over the starburst of reddened lovebites peppering his throat and shoulders from where you marked him as yours so enthusiastically earlier.

It’s hard to fathom that there was ever a time you considered your life remotely complete before Lando and his smoldering passion whirlwinded into your world.

Still, you force yourself to tear your eyes away from the alluring scene with a steadying breath, retreating to the en-suite with the promise to return hanging unspoken between you.

By the time you’ve padded back into the bedroom wrapped in one of Lando’s obscenely soft bathrobes, he’s shifted to sprawl across the centerline of the mattress, face half-buried in his pillow and one hand flung haphazardly above his head. The rakish sprawl of bedsheets and moonlight across his sculpted form renders him a vision of absolute debauchery and desire — not that you’d have him any other way.

You can’t resist ghosting your fingers in a featherlight caress along the hard ridges of his spine and the lean cords of muscle defining his broad shoulders, relishing the shiver that chases itself visibly across his skin. “You awake, darling?”

Lando grunts an affirmation, languidly cracking one eye to regard you through the tangled fringe of lashes fanning across his cheekbones. There’s a hint of wry amusement laced through the rough velvet of his voice when he speaks. “Was starting to worry you’d wandered off again without me.”

“Never,” you reply instantly, warmth threading through the simple avowal. Moving to settle in the vee of his splayed thighs, you trail a meandering path of openmouthed kisses along his lower back, nosing aside the rumpled sheet to expose the swell of his ass with deliberate intent. “You know I’m defenseless against this gorgeous body of yours.”

A low, approving rumble vibrates up from Lando’s chest at your blatant appreciation, his hips giving an unconscious, languid roll as your lips brush across the dimples at the base of his spine in a teasing caress. But then, quite suddenly, the boneless sprawl of his limbs seems to tense as a perceptible aura of hesitance permeates the desire charging the air between you.

You immediately feel the subtle shift in his energy, that jarring note of dissonance plucking disquietingly at your intuitive senses — the same ones that have always allowed you to tune into the deepest vibrations of the soul with preternatural clarity. Without pause, you abandon your sensual exploration of his body to settle beside him once more, cradling the sharp line of his jaw in your palm and wordlessly coaxing him to turn and meet your gaze.

“Hey … talk to me, love,” you murmur, the soothing tone of your voice blanketing the sharp edged undercurrent of uncertainty in its rich, soothing folds. “Where’d you go just now?”

Lando exhales a soft, humorless puff of breath, worrying his plush lower lip between his teeth in that adorable yet concerning tell of his whenever something is weighing on that mind.

For a long stretch, he studies your features in silence, the only sounds in the room the ambient thrum of the city beyond the flat’s walls and the occasional muted honk of a passing car in the night below. Just when you’re about to prompt him again, the words finally tumble out in a low, slightly self-conscious rush.

“You … you don’t take on other clients like me, do you?” You feel him tense further under your palm, discomfited energy practically vibrating off him in waves. “Not that I’m judging, honest! It’s none of my business what you do or who you see for work, but I just ...” He breaks off on a frustrated exhale, jaw ticking in that way that tells you he’s holding back a tidal wave of emotion beneath his placid surface.

A dawning realization begins to unfurl in your chest, intimately familiar with the root of Lando’s inner turmoil. This brilliant, sensitive, achingly beautiful man — the force on the racetrack who melts into the most sweetly vulnerable creature behind closed doors whenever you bestow him with the full force of your focused attention. Of course he would crave that intensity of focus, that promise of belonging solely to him in your most intimate embraces, no matter how irrational or paradoxical the notion seems from the outside looking in.

Slowly, carefully, you reach up to frame that beloved face between your palms, silently urging Lando to hold your unwavering gaze as the words he needs to hear spill forth in a low, resonant murmur.

“Do you remember when this first started between us? How completely you surrendered yourself to me in the most profound way?” You begin, watching his pupils slowly dilate and a nearly imperceptible tension begin to unwind from his shoulders at the timbre of your voice. “The absolute trust it takes to let someone delve that deep into the most sacred corners of your psyche … to share your fears, insecurities, and unvarnished essence without artifice?”

Lando swallows thickly, nodding once in a jerky affirmation as the words seem to bypass his conscious mind and resonate somewhere deeper. You card your fingers soothingly through his disheveled curls, allowing your touch to lull and ground him as you continue in that same low, hypnotic cadence.

“That depth of surrender and connection is not something that can simply be replicated or transposed onto others, Lando. What we have is singular. Untouchable.” You press your forehead to his, registering the faint hitch in his breath as you drink in every last nuance of his features. “My gift has always been to help unravel the truths someone tries to bury, follow the threads that tether the conscious mind to something vaster and more primal. But with you ...”

A low exhale ghosts across his parted lips as your thumb traces the sharp line of his cheekbone in an achingly tender caress. “With you, it was as if the universe aligned to allow me to shed every last shred of protection and pretense until there was nothing left but the purest vibration of my very essence resonating in time with yours. Do you understand?”

Lando’s gaze is a hazy swirl of naked emotion and trust, drinking in your every syllable with the desperate reverence of a man being offered the world’s greatest truth. “Like … like the truest version of ourselves was always there, simply waiting to recognize its other half,” he rasps, the words seeming to bypass his conscious faculties entirely as he remains held captive in the depths of your connection. “Two souls spilling into one another.”

“Precisely.” Your lips curve in the ghost of a smile, a bone-deep sense of belonging and contentment settling over you both like a well-worn hug. “In that moment, you became an inextricable part of me, and I of you. Something that profound doesn’t simply … vanish, or dim, or lessen with time and distance.”

You allow the weighted truth of your decree to resonate between your joined bodies for a suspended heartbeat, cradling Lando’s face as if mapping every plane and angle with worshipful precision.

“I could help countless others access their potential or tap into dimly lit corners of their awareness,” you continue. “But there will only ever be one person to whom I belong in that elemental way. One person who will ever see this side of me and who lays the very fabric of their being bare without reservation.”

A tremulous exhalation shudders across Lando’s lips at the finality in your tone, as if every lingering filament of doubt or uncertainty has finally dissolved in the face of your avowal. One of his hands comes up to splay across the small of your back, fingers flexing and bunching the silky material of your robe in a desperate clutch as if you’re the last solid comfort in a churning sea.

When his eyes slip open once more, they’re practically luminescent with a naked heat that sends a delicious curl of answering want unfurling through your core.

“Show me,” he rasps, the simple entreaty laced with an edge of heart-stoppingly vulnerable need. “Please, Y/N …. I need to feel you completely.”

In the stillness that follows, the only sounds are your mingled exhales and the thunderous gallop of racing pulses filling the air with resonant verses of sin and worship. Then, with an instinctual roll of your hips, you’re slotting one toned thigh between Lando’s splayed legs and sealing your mouth over his in a filthy, searing kiss that instantly has his back arching off the rumpled sheets with a muffled groan.

There’s nothing tentative in the wanton slide of your lips and tongues, every flick and brush and gentle graze brimming with carnal intent and the unspoken promise to strip one another to the very marrow.

Lando surrenders to the sweet onslaught eagerly, hands skating across your body in frantic, searing paths until the belt of your robe finally falls away and he can palm the bare curves of your ass to grind you more fully against his rapidly stiffening length.

You break away with a sharp gasp at the delicious friction, mouth immediately seeking out the fevered juncture of Lando’s neck and shoulder to mouth searing patterns across the taut tendons there. “You want my gift?” You rasp against the thrumming pulse under your lips, rolling your hips in a languid, purposeful grind that drags the already swollen head of his cock through the slick evidence of your arousal with tantalizing friction.

Lando’s response is a low, breathless stream of curses and encouragements, blunt fingernails raking distractedly down the length of your spine in a way that sets every nerve alight with tingling sparks of pleasure-pain.

Allowing him to nip and suck intoxicating patterns across your collarbones, you dip your hand between your bodies until you can wrap your fingers around his rigid shaft, dragging the pads in a devastatingly slow glide from base to tip.

The groan that punches from Lando’s chest at your touch is guttural, hips pumping restlessly into the tight channel of your fist. “Fuck, yes … want all of you, every bloody inch ...”

His words seem to bypass your conscious mind entirely. You’re suddenly blisteringly aware of each and every point where your bodies join: the heated crush of his straining cock in your palm, the delicious friction of your slick folds catching and dragging against the cut grooves of his abdomen with each gyration of your hips, the teasing rasp of his calloused palms as they roam hungrily across your skin.

It’s as if Lando’s very being calls out to yours in an ancient tongue, rendering coherent thought utterly obsolete as you simply feel — the pulsing, cosmic certainty of your connection amplifying every tingling spark of friction and delirious drag of skin against skin until your entire world narrows to the joining of your shared potential cresting higher with each and every move.

“Now,” you grate out, vision whiting out as your climax detonates in a blinding supernova behind your navel — an ecstasy so transcendent that you’re certain it scorches across the very fabric of your soul. Your fingernails sink vicious crescent moons into Lando’s bicep as you arch against him with a keening cry.

“Y/N!” His hoarse shout fractures on a broken whine, muscles tensing as the first searing pulse of his orgasm floods your belly, joined soon by rich, viscous ropes of white heat that leave you both totally undone.

You simply clutch at each other through the relentless waves, Lando’s teeth sinking into the juncture of your neck and shoulder as if urging you to brand him irrevocably as yours.

When the explosive rapture finally begins to ebb, you both sag into the tangled bedding in a limp sprawl of sweat-slicked limbs and trembling aftershocks, chests heaving in perfect synchronicity as you cling to one another like lost mariners adrift in some fathomless sea.

You can’t even begin to discern where your consciousness begins and Lando’s ends — your very essences having merged so irrevocably that you simply exist as a singular vibration pulsing through the cosmos.

It takes several long, suspended moments for the concept of individual awareness to gradually seep back into the edges of your being, though even then it feels blasphemous to separate yourself from the soul-deep profundity of what you’ve just shared.

Finally, with a shuddering breath, you manage to crack your eyelids enough to drink in the sight of Lando gazing back at you with that same awed wonder etched across his beloved features.

“Bloody fucking hell,” he rasps, the words little more than a throaty whisper ghosting against your over-sensitized skin. “That was … there aren’t even words, are there?”

In lieu of responding, you simply wind your arms around him with a tremulous exhale, hooking your chin over the solid comfort of his shoulder and allowing his clean, earthy scent to wash over you like a balm.

In this place, suspended between bliss and awareness, there’s no need for words or platitudes. You can feel Lando’s very essence thrumming in tandem with yours — the inherent recognition of your twin flame and sacred belonging reverberating on a molecular level.

Here, entangled in the vital warmth of shared trust and intimacy, all that exists is the boundless and the eternal.

[futurewdclandonorris]

Water | Lando Norris⁴

Pairings: Lando Norris x fem!reader

Summary: you go to your local gym hoping you'll see the new guy that also happened to become your gym crush. What you didn't expect is to find out that he noticed you too

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, some dirty talk

A/N: I wrote this in like an hour or so, so it might not be the greatest of my works, but lord knows we need it after that quali session. Also the song was a big inspo 🤪

It was getting late and the gym was nearly empty. You had come to get a workout in, yet felt oddly out of sync with your body. Despite feeling drained, you sauntered through the area, your eyes lingering on the shiny metal surfaces of the exercise equipment. You were expecting solitude at this time of night, but noticed a few others around as well.

This week, you couldn't help but notice a new face at the gym. While checking him out from a distance, he has unexpectedly become someone you kind of crush on. You couldn't deny that part of your motivation for returning to the gym was the chance of seeing him again.

And just your luck, he was already there and had started his training session. You tried not to gawk, but you couldn't help it. He moved with such grace, each repetition of the exercises looking like a dance. His muscles flexed and tensed as he lifted weights and you found yourself mesmerized by the beauty of it all.

Mustering all your strength, you moved closer to one of the machines and started performing your own exercises. You sensed him looking at you without acknowledging your presence, but it was almost as if he didn’t notice you at all. Yet suddenly something out of left field happened.

"That's not correct. You're going to hurt yourself if you keep doing it like that." it was him, speaking up in a soft yet firm voice that startled you out of your daze.

You frowned a bit, confused. "This is how my personal trainer showed me to do it."

"I'm sure he did. But that's not how you do it." he grinned. "You're only going to get pain and no gain."

"And how would you know?" what you didn't expect is to get annoyed with him, but here you were, fighting the urge not to roll your eyes.

"I'm a professional athlete, I know." you could just tell this guy relished in being right and correcting people.

"Oh, yes? And what kind of athlete are you?" you snorted.

"I'm a formula 1 driver."

Your eyes widened as he said that. You had never met a professional athlete before, let alone one who drove a formula 1 car. You tried to play it cool, but your curiosity got the best of you. "That's impressive. I didn't know we had any formula 1 drivers in this town."

"You don't," he said with a smirk. "I'm just passing through for a race in a neighboring city. I like to keep up with my training while I'm on the road."

You nodded, still in shock. You had never spoken to someone so accomplished before. "Well, I'm honored to be corrected by a professional athlete. Can you show me how to do it correctly?"

He grinned and stepped closer to you, his body heat making your heart race. "Of course. I'd be happy to help. And my name is Lando, by the way."

For the next hour, Lando guided you through different exercises, correcting your form and giving you tips on how to improve. You felt a sense of gratitude towards him, appreciating the time he was taking to help you out.

He was easy to talk to as well, and you found yourself opening up to him. He, in turn, shared his own stories, and soon enough, the conversation turned flirtatious.

You didn't know if it was the adrenaline from the workout or the thrill of being in his presence, but you found yourself wanting him in a way you hadn't before.

As the gym started to empty out, you glanced at the clock and noticed that it was almost closing time. You both were still talking, and neither of you seemed to want to leave.

"We should probably get going," you said with a hint of disappointment.

He smiled and nodded his head in agreement, but then he leaned in closer and whispered into your ear. "I know a place we can go for some privacy."

Your heart raced as his words sunk in, and before you knew it, you found yourself following him out of the gym towards the locker rooms.

As soon as you entered, Lando grabbed your hand and pulled you towards one of the empty stalls. His lips crashed onto yours and you felt your body ignite with desire. His hands roamed your body, tearing every piece of clothing that restrained him from your skin, exploring every inch as you kissed him back with equal fervor.

He lifted you up with ease, your legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed you against the cold wall. His kisses were urgent and demanding, and you met his passion with your own. He devoured your mouth, his hands squeezing your boobs and pinching your nipples. The sensation shot straight to your core, making you arch your back and moan louder.

Lando trailed his kisses down your neck, his teeth nibbling on your skin, leaving behind a path of marks. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer to you, urging him to go further.

"You have no idea how much I've been thinking about you," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin.

"Tell me," you whispered back, loving the way his cock throbbed against your thigh.

"Thinking about what I would do to you if I had the chance."

He pushed you against the wall, his fingers parting your folds and finding your clit. He rubbed it in circles, making you shudder against him, and when he pushed his fingers inside you, you cried out.

"Tell me how bad you want my cock, baby," he growled. "Tell me."

You gasped for air as he worked his fingers inside you, your muscles tightening around them. He brought you to the brink and then stopped, leaving you to whimper in the darkness.

"Please, Lando. I need more," you begged.

"Oh, you'll get more," he grinned. "But first, you need to show me how much you want it."

You squinted your eyes in confusion at his words. Before you could ask what he meant, he placed you on your feet and pushed you towards the wall, your hands pressing against it.

"Now, I want you to touch yourself while I watch," he commanded.

You followed his instructions, your hands exploring your body and eventually slipping between your legs. Your eyes never left his gaze, and he took his time undressing. As you teased yourself by tracing circles around your clit, imagining him inside of you, the bulge in his pants was growing bigger. Finally, he removed his shorts, exposing his thick, hard member.

As soon as it sprung forward, you pushed two fingers inside yourself and moaned at the sensation. You watched as he pumped his cock in his hand, the look in his eyes filled with lust. You smiled and continued fingering yourself, arching your back and twisting your body as you watched the way his muscles tensed.

"You have no idea how bad I want to fuck you right now."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and as you continued staring at him, he grabbed your wrist and pressed it against his cock. You bit your lip and moaned out loud as you felt the warmth of his flesh against you, stroking himself as you fucked yourself with your fingers.

He pressed his body close to yours, the heat and moisture of his skin merging with your own. His lips found their way to your neck and he kissed you ever-so-softly. You could feel his cock throbbing against your thigh. Then, his kisses intensified, with his teeth grazing gently across your skin. He suckled at your neck while his fingers dug lightly into your flesh.

"You like this, don't you?" he growled into your ear. "You like being commanded."

"Yes," you hissed. "I love it."

"I want to fuck you until you can't walk. I want you to scream so loud the whole gym can hear you. Will you do that for me?"

"Yes," you moaned again. "I will. I'll do anything you want."

"Good girl."

He grabbed your hair and forced your head back against the wall, his lips finding their way to yours again. He kissed you, his tongue pushing inside your mouth, fighting for domination. You moaned loudly, grinding your hips against his. He grabbed your ass and squeezed it, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip.

The head of his cock found its way to your entrance, and he didn't waste any time. He lifted one of your legs up and pushed himself inside. You moaned against him, your skin flushing as he filled you to the brim. He held onto you tightly as he thrust himself inside you, his hips pushing against yours. You sucked his tongue into your mouth, your body shaking as you cried out in ecstasy.

He grabbed your remaining leg and pulled you up against him, your legs instinctively twining around his waist. Taking both of your wrists in his secure grip, he held them above your head, your breasts jolting with each successive thrust. He sped up the tempo as time passed, his body pressing hard into yours.

You had never been fucked like this before, and you loved every second of it. The way he controlled your body made you feel more feminine than you ever had, and you felt yourself craving more.

He let go of your hands and you fell into him. You held him tight, your nails digging into his back. Your bodies were pressed up against each other, sticky and sweaty, and as he thrust himself inside you, you could feel his bare chest rubbing against your hard nipples. He groaned, his cock pulsing inside you as he held you close.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, your legs tightening around his waist. He groaned into your lips, his eyes locking into yours. You bit your lip and smiled, whispering "Faster."

He complied and you tried to keep quiet as he fucked you harder, but it was getting harder and harder to do so. Your breath was coming out in ragged breaths, and the sound of his skin slapping against yours filled the room.

He put you down and turned you around, pressing you against the wall again, his cock still buried inside of you as he planted kisses all over your back. He slammed into you quicker and harder, his hips colliding with your ass with every thrust.

With one hand still on your hips, Lando reached down between your legs and found your clit, teasing it as you came closer and closer to orgasm. You knew you couldn't hold on any longer, so you grabbed his hand and pulled it away from your sensitive flesh. He smiled and grabbed your face, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.

Spinning you around once more, he picked you up and put you onto his cock, your legs wrapping securely around him. You could tell he liked to be in control so much as he took charge and started moving your hips up and down his length. His fingers groped your ass, his tongue teasing your nipples as you moaned in pleasure.

You felt him swell inside you, and your own orgasm started building up inside of you. You could feel it coming closer and closer with every movement of his thrust, until finally it arrived, crashing through both of you like a wave. You screamed in pleasure as Lando pumped one last time into you before coming hard himself, his entire body shaking with release.

Slowly he lowered you onto the floor, both of you still breathing heavily from the intense session that just took place. He took a step back to look at you, admiring every inch of your glistening body from the workout you just did.

"I guess I can tell my personal trainer that you're a better instructor than him."

[insidekatmind]

Interview~Levi Colwill

Wearning: +18, smut

The match between Tottenham and Chelsea had just ended, and the atmosphere in the stadium was electric. The historical rivalry between the two teams had given an incredible show, but of all the players on the field, one had shined more than the others: Levi Colwill. The young Chelsea defender had been a wall, cancelling out any attempts by the opponents to score. He was voted "Man of the Match" and, as a sports journalist, your job was to interview him.

With the microphone in your hand and the earpiece updating you on live time, you positioned yourself in the mixed zone, where players passed for interviews. When Levi approached, his gaze immediately caught yours. Those intense and hungry eyes you felt a warmth inside but ignored the feeling. You had to be professional.

"Levi, an incredible performance today. You literally closed every space. How do you feel after such a strong game?" you asked, trying to keep a neutral tone.

He smiled at you, a smile full of energy that is hard to decipher. "It was tough, but these are the games you love to play. Against Tottenham, in a derby so heartfelt... You know you have to give it all. And today we proved that we are a united team."

As he spoke, his gaze did not detach from yours. You felt a strange tension grow, as if there was something unsaid between you. You tried to concentrate. It was just the usual charisma of a top athlete, you said.

"You’ve stopped Son on more than one occasion, which is no small thing. How did you prepare this match knowing that you would have to face such a dangerous striker?"

He nodded, giving you another smile. "Son is one of the best in the world, so I knew I had to be at my best. But I like this kind of challenge. It’s what motivates me to improve, push myself beyond my limits."

As he answered, you noticed how his eyes wandered over your face, lingering slightly longer than necessary. His smile became more and more mischievous, and you felt a shiver down your back. But you were live, and you kept going.

"Last question, Levi. What is the message you want to send to the Chelsea fans after such an important victory?"

He smiled again, a smile that seemed more personal. "Our goal is to win. Always. Today we have made a big step, but the work doesn’t end there. Thanks to the fans for their support. It is also thanks to them that we play with so much passion."

You closed the interview thanking him, trying to ignore that strange feeling that had accompanied you all along. Levi nodded, and took one last look at you before leaving.

---

After a while, as you were trying to relax from the tension of the live show, you decided to go to the bathroom in the stadium to settle down. It was a quiet moment after the frenzy of the game and the interview. But as soon as you walked in, you heard the door open behind you. You turned, and found yourself face to face with Levi.

"I didn’t think I’d see you again so soon," you said, trying to mask the surprise.

He didn’t answer immediately. He came closer, his eyes even more intense now that you were alone. "You are always so professional, huh?" He said with a smile, but his voice was different, lower, almost provocative.

You tried to keep control. "I try to do my job," you replied, crossing your arms over your chest. "Is there anything that you need?"

"Maybe," he said, getting closer again. Now it was so close that you could feel the warmth of his body. " You know, I couldn’t stop thinking about the way you looked at me during the interview."

"How did I look at you?" you asked, trying to seem indifferent, even if your heart was beating fast.

He didn’t answer your question but was smiling and was getting closer to you

"I noticed," he said, with a grin that made you shiver. "And you know what? I like it."

You didn’t have time to answer. Before you knew it, he’d gently pushed you towards the sink, his hands finding their place on your hips. Your breath was blocked when her lips found yours. It was an intense kiss, full of the same passion that she had shown in the field.

For a moment, you forgot everything: your work, professionalism, context. There was only him, and you, and that strange alchemy that seemed to explode every time your eyes met.

His lips broke away from yours, and for a moment your breaths were the only sound in the room. Levi looked at you with a defiance, almost provocative smile, as if he knew exactly what effect it had on you.

"What’s the matter?" he asked, tilting his head to one side, his voice low and almost amused. "You don’t look so professional now."

You raised an eyebrow, trying to regain control of the situation. " And you don’t seem so focused on your victory," you replied, but your voice trembled slightly, betraying the whirlwind of emotions within you.

He smiled, spreading his legs to get in the middle." Maybe it’s because there is something more interesting here," he said, biting your lower lip slightly and you whimpered.

Your heart has skipped a beat. " Levi, you’re not funny," you said, trying to look stern, but your lips were already bending into a half smile.

"Oh, I’m very serious," he replied. This time, his fingers touched your hand, a light touch, almost random, but enough to hold your breath. " You know, I’m not a quitter. Neither in the field nor outside."

"You always have a strategy, don’t you?" you whispered, your voice barely audible, as your faces drew closer again.

"That’s right," he said, the tone of his voice now lower, almost intimate. "And I usually win."

You couldn’t resist. With a strong gesture, you grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him more towards you as you began to rub your hips on his cock. He let it happen, his eyes shining with satisfaction.

"You’re too sure of yourself,' you said, looking into his eyes as you tried to hide a moan by feeling his hard cock.

"Maybe because I’m right," he replied, his voice a whisper that made you tremble.

You didn’t answer, at least not with words. Your hands slipped behind his back, and you pulled him into a deeper, more urgent kiss. This time, it was as if you had both dropped all claims. His hands grabbed you by the hips, pulling you closer, while you kept rubbing and making both of you groan.

"I thought you were trying to stay professional" he murmured against your lips, interrupting the kiss only for a moment.

"You have a special talent for making me change my mind," you replied, before picking it up again, this time with even more passion.

---

And there you were in the stadium bathroom sitting on the sink with your little dress half up while you were letting Levi fuck you.

"So good at taking my cock," Levi muttered as he smiled arrogantly as he merrily bangs his big hard dick in and out of you.

You groaned as you clung to him more feeling so good. You were trying not to scream but his cock that was banging in and out of you seemed impossible.

"Come on baby make others feel you’re a bitch in need for me" he whispered near your ear and then nibbled your lobe making you whine while your pussy was holding his cock and he groaned as he buried himself further inside.

You took Levi’s face softly and kissed him with pure passion, hunger and desire.

He groans in the kiss as he keeps pushing his cock inside you. His tongue enters your mouth, exploring it.

You began to wave your hips against his. You slowly moved away from the kiss and he didn’t waste time attacking your neck by starting to kiss and suck your weak point.

You groaned for bliss as you flapped your hips towards him for more.

"It’s so big" you whimpered and he kept banging his cock inside of you, groaning as you kept moaning out loud not caring about people who could hear you, you were close and he knew.

He started pushing faster as he was holding his hand on your neck making you whine and you came on his cock.

He continued pushing his cock inside you more harshly, you knew that he was also coming to his high, you decided to arch your back as you began to scratch his back feeling how he was piercing you with his dick, Levi lowered his head on your neck nibbling at your skin as he continued to penetrate you. He came with one blow and sighed again in your neck.

He raised his head and kissed you softly, and you kissed back.

"How about I take you on a date, huh?" Levi whispered next to your lips and you smiled.

[aviscarrentals]

why i believe alex replacing logan is the worst possible decision williams could make

#1: logan’s confidence

we saw this exact thing happen with checo last year. after his brief stint of trading wins with max, max continued to consistently wipe the floor with him via the gap in their performances. this continued to eat away at checo’s confidence until, by the end of the season, he was t-boning alex albon in singapore for no reason and somehow retiring twice in suzuka. now that there has been an extended break and he has had the chance to grind and truly work on himself nonstop, he has returned with incredible form. but who knows how long this will last? as soon as there’s a race that isn’t a red bull 1-2, he will be completely torn into and i believe the downward trajectory of last year will repeat itself.

this is very similar to what logan went through last year. once he was announced, there was so much hope for an incredible debut season, but that never came his way. i think the first big nail in the coffin was getting his first p20 at his home race and i think the biggest hit was qatar. even though he should never ever be ashamed of putting his safety first, i understand why, from an athlete’s perspective, he would look at that race as a failure.

fortunately for him, he has had a team with incredibly strong leadership backing him up. giving him the opportunities he needed, never giving up on him, celebrating the single point he scored last year like he lassoed the fucking moon, and re-signing him because he has such incredible potential as a formula 1 driver. everything went wrong for logan, except for williams, who did everything right.

except now, williams has publicly stated that they have no faith in him to score points. now the only support logan has is random fans at races, strangers on the internet, and his own friends and family. that must feel fucking awful. logan has been so positive throughout the struggles of this year and last, but he has to be hurting right now. there’s no way he isn’t.

logan sargeant is not a bad driver. you can disagree with me as loud as you want to, but i won’t hear a word of it.

absolutely stunning junior career aside, logan showed incredible improvement towards the end of the season. not only did he score a point in austin, but he came unbearably close in mexico, and if it weren’t for a hydraulics failure, he very easily could have had two points finishes in a row.

this year may seem like it has gotten off to a bad start for him, but i heavily disagree. in bahrain he had great pace and was steadily climbing closer and closer to the points when he had a brake failure. the car switched his balance completely on its own and made it literally impossible for him to turn. even max couldn’t recover from that.

in jeddah his pace was wonderful again. i think his biggest struggle currently is qualifying, but he was overtaking beautifully and making his way up the field. while 15th isn’t a spectacular finish, he was matching alex quite well throughout the whole race. (also jeddah sucks so he gets a pass 👎)

george russell did not score a SINGLE point during his rookie season for williams and he is now a race-winning future championship contender and beating his 7x wdc teammate in the standings at p4. logan has already beaten that AND he has an experienced driver that he seems to get on with quite well as a teammate to mentor him, which george didn’t have; he was william’s number one driver from day one. logan has so much potential that is only being hindered by his lack of confidence, unpreparedness (reminder he was brought to f1 an entire year earlier than he was originally supposed to be; they planned for him to be a 2024 rookie), and a shitty car.

#2: alex albon

now poor alex is in the worst position of his life. brother already probably feels like shit for putting logan through this (even though it is NOT his fault and he has absolutely zero say in this decision) and if he doesn’t score any points this weekend, he will be torn to shreds by the media.

i have already seen multiple posts including alex in their list of fuck yous. this will do incredible damage to him pr-wise and will also make him feel even worse if he doesn’t somehow pull off a miracle performance.

#3: albert park

alex is an incredible driver, constantly pulling a back marker car into the points. however, this is a track that he has historically struggled at (in the exact same turn might i add!!) for multiple years in a row. who’s to say this mistake could not be made tomorrow or sunday as well? that will make everyone involved look and feel horrible.

not to mention that the fw46 is NOT SUITED for albert park. AT ALL. vcarb’s official website describes it as a ‘medium-high’ downforce track, which is exactly what the car is suited to struggle with, making it nearly impossible for albono to score points (which, like stated before, will be terrible for him) as well as making this gp a likely inconsequential race! meaning this is the perfect opportunity to let logan drive on the limit and really showcase his true talent and capabilities as a driver.

but now williams has chosen to do the complete opposite and ruined logan’s trust in his team as well as any other offers from rival teams for him for the 2025 season. if logan’s own team would bench him for his teammate, why should they take him over a talented upcoming rookie? (this is a rhetorical question; i truly believe he has the potential to, with a good enough car and team behind him, become a race-winning driver in the future.)

#4: james vowles and the future of williams

james has justified this decision by mentioning how every race counts and that a single point can make a world’s difference in the midfield. while this is true, james has also been on the record multiple times saying that he doesn’t give two shits about this season (as well as the next few). he has stated that his goal is long-term, to rebuild the team and return it to its former success of the 90s and early 2000s. so why ruin the reputation of your driver who you have been supporting since his junior career over the possibility of a single point or two? that is a short-term solution, not a long-term one. james is usually a wonderfully eloquent speaker, however, he has completely contradicted himself here.

in my opinion, the best decision would be to race logan. while i love alex to death, he’s the one who crashed his car, completely on his own with no fellow drivers or failures on the car’s side to blame. logically, he should be the one to sit out the race, no?

like i briefly touched on before, i also think this is a golden opportunity to put logan in a race where they will most likely come away with nothing anyways and give him the opportunity to pull off something incredible (which he absolutely can under the right circumstances). if he was able to have a good drive on sunday, he would be a star and williams would look like geniuses. with this decision, everyone just looks like an asshole.

final thoughts

to conclude, i am no certified expert, but this decision makes zero sense to me, as it also does to many others from what i’ve seen. i usually wholeheartedly agree with all of james’ decisions, but this one beats me. i cannot for the life of me figure out why williams would choose this.

there is a part of me that hopes williams will reverse this decision before sunday in order to save themselves from all of the pr backlash they are facing, but i understand that that is very much wishful thinking. the only good thing that can come from this is williams finally learning how to be prepared and/or logan being able to channel his frustration into motivation (although i don’t think there’s any way for him to possibly work harder than he already has).

if anyone disagrees with me and thinks this is the right decision for williams to make, i would love to hear why. no one has to agree with me, these are just my personal thoughts on the situation.

-avis 🏎️💨

[theastrohub]

2024 Paris Olympics: the astrology of a gold medalist and star athlete.

disclaimer: I am not glorifying struggle or pain in any way shape or form. these are @astrobaeza's personal opinions and observations.

✦ mars in first house / mars dominant / capricorn mars : a first house mars or being mars dominant makes for someone who is openly energetic, driven, passionate, and physically vital. mars is exalted in capricorn, making for someone who naturally has a lot of drive and energy and physical strength.

✦ mars in fire sign + mars in fire house (1st, 5th, 9th) : (1st covered above) Mars in the 5th house gives someone a lot of energy and passion related to hobbies and fun, including something like sports. similar to mars in first or aries, it makes for someone who has a lot of energy. the fire houses give drive and energy, as they are good houses for your mars: mars in the 1st adds aries qualities, mars in the 5th adds Leo qualities, and mars in the 9th adds Sagittarius qualities.

✦ mutable placements, especially sun and rising (gemini, pisces, sagittarius) : makes for adaptability, agility, resilience, ease in things like training for improvement. can perform well in a variety of sports. there is an ease of embracing new techniques, training methods, and other strategies for performance enhancement. fast learning and integration of teachings. strong communication skills that builds interpersonal relationships prevalent in athletics like athlete to coach, athlete to athlete, referee to athlete and so forth. for example, both Suni Lee and Simone Biles are Pisces suns and gemini moons.

✦ 12h placements : 12th house placements makes for someone with ease in the foundational things of being an athlete like recovery and healing, mental resilience, strong intuition and decision-making skills and focus. this also makes for someone that has a spiritual drive to succeed, seeing athletics as their calling in life. for example, muhammad ali, the pro-boxer, was known for his spiritual teachings and dedication towards the islamic faith. this is why you will see a lot of very spiritual and religious athletes, athletes that openly renounce "their God" when they win.

✦ mars pluto positive aspects : almost like having a scorpio mars, this makes for someone with a powerful drive to compete and win. can translate to having stores of energy ready for use at any given moment, strong intuition for quick decision-making, and a strong desire for improvement and transformation. this also makes for an athlete that can positively impact others / be a role-model through their own hard work.

✦ personal planets in aquarius and the 11th house : makes for a good team-mate and someone with a strong understanding of how groups work. someone who's well-liked by the public, could make for a strong "team captain", pointguard, QB, etc. the 11th house also indicates long-term goals and gains, and being a professional athlete takes pretty much a lifetime of dedication and practice. this could also make for someone who can be ahead of trends in the athletics-adjacent matters like team image and bonding routines.

✦ positive 6th house placements : the sixth house pertains to daily routines, work and physical health. a well-placed and aspected personal planet(s) makes for someone who excels in activities that require discipline and routine like athletics.

✦ cardinal t-squares : the integration of "tension" or "difficulties" in the natal chart through planetary aspects can make for someone with a unique skill set appropriate for athleticism: determination, ability to overcome obstacles, diligence, endurance, mental fortitude, and emotional strength.

:჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻:჻჻:჻:჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻:჻჻:

[ credits @astrobaeza ₊ PAIDSERVICES ₊ masterlist ₊ tips ₊ gif by @buffyann23 ]

[champstorymedia]

Gear Guide: Choosing the Best Sports Equipment for Your Game

Sports equipment is an essential part of any athlete’s game. Whether you are a beginner or a seasoned pro, having the right gear can make a significant difference in your performance. With so many options available in the market, it can be overwhelming to choose the best sports equipment for your specific needs. This comprehensive gear guide will help you navigate through the vast array of…

[parvuls]

From: jackzimmermann@nhl.com

To: eric.bittle@samwell.edu

Subj: Restriction on Pies and Pastries Supply to PVD Falconers

Mr. Eric Bittle,

It has recently been brought to my attention that you are responsible for the pies and various pastries that have been delivered to members of the NHL team, the Providence Falconers. Unfortunately, the high fat content found in pies and the like poses a significant risk to athletes' physical fitness. It is vital for hockey players to maintain optimal physical condition to ensure their peak performance on the ice, and therefore the team’s win.

As it is my duty to oversee their dietary requirements, I ask you to cease the distribution of such food items to the members of the team immediately.

Thank you for your cooperation,

Jack Zimmermann

Providence Falconers Nutritionist | Providence, RI

-

From: eric.bittle@samwell.edu

To: jackzimmermann@nhl.com

Subj: Re: Restriction on Pies and Pastries Supply to PVD Falconers

Dear Mr. Zimmermann,

It’s really nice to make your acquaintance. I actually had to message Alexei just to make sure this wasn’t some prank from one of my friends - I couldn’t believe an actual NHL staff member reached out to me! He assured me you’re the real thing, however (although I’m not sure how you got my school contact info?).

About the pies - you have nothing to worry about. Firstly, I only use the very best products, so anything your boys are getting from me is high quality. Second of all, I explicitly told the boys that I would only make the deliveries on cheat days. They better be smarter than to lie to me. 

I’m a big fan of the Falconers, and I would never do anything to harm their chances! On the contrary, I do believe having a pie waiting for you at the end of a hard week gives more motivation for training. So actually, I’m helping y’all out :) 

You’re very welcome, and good luck against the Devils!

Eric

-

From: jackzimmermann@nhl.com

To: eric.bittle@samwell.edu

Subj: Re: Re: Restriction on Pies and Pastries Supply to PVD Falconers

Mr. Bittle,

I appreciate your reply. However, I feel that I have not made my stance clear enough.

Hockey is a very demanding sport. Cheat meals are meant to benefit our players, not provide them with an excuse to consume excessive amounts of sugar and fat. Nine of our players had received deliveries from you in the last 3 months. In my estimations, that comes to about 216 baked pies. 

You must not be aware of this, but regular consumption of saturated fat can lead to heart disease and stroke. I advise you to look into investing your time in less harmful pursuits. I attached a list of recommendations for preferable culinary interests and other hobbies (if you eat even a portion of what you make, I highly recommend taking an interest in physical activity).

Please write back to me with confirmation that you will no longer deliver to members of this team.

Sincerely,

Jack Zimmermann

Providence Falconers Nutritionist | Providence, RI

-

From: eric.bittle@samwell.edu

To: jackzimmermann@nhl.com

Subj: Re: Re: Re: Restriction on Pies and Pastries Supply to PVD Falconers

Mr. Zimmermann,

Unfortunately, I can make no such promises. Your players are counting on me, and I’d hate letting those sweet boys down. But just give it a few more months! You’ll see their game won’t be affected, and we could put all this behind us. In fact, I bet you’ll even see some improvement :)

Thank you for your concern, but it’s honestly not needed. I’m definitely getting enough physical activity, haha. Actually, I’m the captain of a Division I NCAA ice hockey team. And look, I’m doing just fine!

Also, I did take a look at your list. Flourless protein brownies?? Poor man. If that is what you consider a dessert, it’s no wonder you’ve got all these misguided views on pies. I had real brownies delivered just for you this morning, so you can taste the difference yourself. If they’re not on your desk by this afternoon, Thirdy or Poots must’ve gotten to them. Please let me know so I can make another batch.

All the best,

Eric

- 

From: jackzimmermann@nhl.com

To: eric.bittle@samwell.edu

Subj: Final Request to Discontinue Pastry Deliveries 

Mr. Bittle,

You’re a hockey player who bakes a dozen pies a month in his free time? This is unacceptable for a sports team on any level. If possible, I would like the name of your team and your coach. Your staff should be made aware of the risks involved in not supervising their players’ health. I am more than willing to offer my services for a free-of-charge seminar about nutrition. 

I have made my position about the deliveries very clear. If you cannot assure me of your cooperation, I will be forced to speak to security and restrict entry of food into our facilities without my approval.

I don’t wish to resort to forbidding you from future contact with team members, but if it is in the best interest of the team’s success, I will.

Good day,

Jack Zimmermann

Providence Falconers Nutritionist | Providence, RI

-

From: eric.bittle@samwell.edu

To: jackzimmermann@nhl.com

Subj: (no subject)

Dear Jack Zimmermann,

I would like to see you try.

Bless you heart,

Eric Bittle

[nasa]

For the Benefit of All: Assistive Tech Developed from NASA Tech

What do modern cochlear implants and robotic gloves have in common? They were derived from NASA technology. We’ve made it easier to find and use our patented inventions that could help create products that enhance life for people with disabilities.

October is National Disability Employment Awareness Month, which highlights the contributions of American workers with disabilities – many of whom use assistive technology on the job. Take a look at these assistive technologies that are NASA spinoffs.

Low-Vision Headsets

The Joint Optical Reflective Display (JORDY) device is a headset that uses NASA image processing and head-mounted display technology to enable people with low vision to read and write. JORDY enhances individuals’ remaining sight by magnifying objects up to 50 times and allowing them to change contrast, brightness, and display modes. JORDY's name was inspired by Geordi La Forge, a blind character from “Star Trek: The Next Generation” whose futuristic visor enabled him to see.

Cochlear Implants

Work that led to the modern cochlear implant was patented by a NASA engineer in the 1970s. Following three failed corrective surgeries, Adam Kissiah combined his NASA electronics know-how with research in the Kennedy Space Center technical library to build his own solution for people with severe-to-profound hearing loss who receive little or no benefit from hearing aids. Several companies now make the devices, which have been implanted in hundreds of thousands of people around the world.

Robotic Gloves

Ironhand, from Swedish company Bioservo Technologies, is the world’s first industrial-strength robotic glove for factory workers and others who perform repetitive manual tasks. It helps prevent stress injuries but has been especially warmly received by workers with preexisting hand injuries and conditions. The glove is based on a suite of patents for the technology developed by NASA and General Motors to build the hands of the Robonaut 2 humanoid robotic astronaut.

Smart Glasses

Neurofeedback technology NASA originally developed to improve pilots’ attention has been the basis for products aimed at helping people manage attention disorders without medication. The devices measure brainwave output to gauge attention levels according to the “engagement index” a NASA engineer created. Then, they show the results to users, helping them learn to voluntarily control their degree of concentration. One such device is a pair of smart glasses from Narbis, whose lenses darken as attention wanes.

Anti-Gravity Treadmills

A NASA scientist who developed ways to use air pressure to simulate gravity for astronauts exercising in space had the idea to apply the concept for the opposite effect on Earth. After licensing his technology, Alter-G Inc. developed its anti-gravity G-Trainer treadmill, which lets users offload some or all of their weight while exercising. The treadmills can help people recover from athletic or brain injuries, and they allow a safe exercise regimen for others with long-term conditions such as arthritis.

Wireless Muscle Sensors

Some of the most exciting assistive technologies to spin off may be yet to come. Delsys Inc. developed electromyographic technology to help NASA understand the effects of long-term weightlessness on astronauts’ muscles and movements. Electromyography detects and analyzes electrical signals emitted when motor nerves trigger movement. Among the company’s customers are physical therapists developing exercise routines to help patients recover from injuries. But some researchers are using the technology to attempt recoveries that once seemed impossible, such as helping paralyzed patients regain movement, letting laryngectomy patients speak, and outfitting amputees with artificial limbs that work like the real thing.  

To further enhance the lives of people with disabilities, NASA has identified a selection of patented technologies created for space missions that could spur the next generation of assistive technology here on Earth.

Want to learn more about assistive technologies already in action? Check out NASA Spinoff to find products and services that wouldn’t exist without space exploration.   

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

[suuho]

the entire problem with this current generation’s mindset of “we don’t need or care for idols to sing live and would rather have a great performance” or a fantasy sold, is that people do not see any value in live singing and do not care about the sincerity of live singing. they do not understand that a live-sung performance can already be a great performance, and it doesn’t need any more than that to be a great performance. they say they would rather have a fantasy conveyed through performance when the entire medium idols are using to do that is song. lyrics set to music. that has to be sung by someone, who should be able to be at least decent at the very skill at the core of their craft. absolutely insane and detached to say there is no need for that in kpop, as if this entire empire is not built around concerts, music show performances, albums and singles.

and don’t get me started on the mindset that no one is allowed to criticize idols, who are doing a very public job, as if you are not allowed to expect someone to be at least passably good at their job? that they have trained for for years? if you are a singer who cannot sing, you are in the wrong profession, point blank. become a variety performer or a tv show host or a model, then. if you are a singer who cannot sing and you refuse to improve yourself, then you are in the wrong profession, and you should not be surprised if people call you out on it.

ten, twelve years ago, groups would have members that would have never been primarily considered as vocalists, and these members would go and put in the work to improve themselves, and learn how to sing. i mean, look at 2pm. they started as a group with a focus on their athletics (with a literal counterpart debuting that was a vocal group, like) and yet, all members have steadily worked to improve as performers, as vocalists. and the hard work has paid off; they literally performed 4 hour long concerts entirely live as recent as last year. because that is part of their job description, and they are aware of that. i would rather take an imperfect but dedicated singer than one who doesn’t try to improve at all. this laziness and coasting on visuals that kpop stans excuse and eat up these days is deteriorating an entire genre, and an insult to the hard work of performers of the past who have done all the work to even allow kpop to become as big as it is now.

[exitrowiron]

Seattle Half

I ran the Seattle Half yesterday and was pleased with my 1:56 finish time, a 12 minute improvement over my half a few months ago in Chicago. Although the course had a lot more elevation (722' according to my Garmin), the weather was perfect. I finished in the top 25% of my division - over the course of my athletic career that's always been about the best I can do, thus reinforcing my conviction that I'm a good, not great athlete. I wish I was a naturally gifted athlete, but I think I've demonstrated that even a good, not great, athlete can do some amazing things.

One of the reasons I like endurance sports is that they are so objectively quantitative. There's no dickering about whether a ref's or umpire's call was fair or whether a judge liked my costume or the artistry of my performance. I can see EXACTLY how I performed versus my previous efforts and every other competitor. This is ALWAYS humbling. For instance, during this race I was beaten by a 76 and 71 year old. My pace was 8:53; the 57 year old winner of my division averaged 6:10. Can you imagine? 32% of the male half marathon runners were over 50, though it seemed like fewer than that. Also, this was one of the most racially diverse races I've run.

On a whim, Beth signed up for the half-marathon two days before the race. The 13.1 miles wasn't too much longer than her planned long run for the weekend, so she figured she might as well. She took her time and did her planned workout (intervals, etc.); pretty impressive.

I get a rest day, then start training for a full marathon in February.