#my heart

[idk-the-foolish-immortal]

The feetsies

[draoithe]

What about the Inquisitor?

[befuddledcinnamonroll]

Being sung to by Rose

Vs

Being sung to by Joke

[moonlight-s0nata]

Someone needs to name the emotion you feel in the veins of your heart when waiting for someone to come despite knowing they never will

[fallinallincurls]

oh my heart🥺 lando truly deserves the biggest hug and all the comfort which this fic captured perfectly aw

— NO OTHER HEART ꪆৎ ˚⋅ [lando norris]

pairing: lando norris x reader

synopsis: you comfort lando after the events of the brazilian grand prix

word count: 0.8k

a/n: you know what they say the devil works hard but tumblr writers work harder! english is not my first language!! there isn’t much to say really the fic speaks for itself, I’m absolutely heartbroken for Lando 💔 as always my recs are open!

You step quietly from the bathroom, padding softly across the cool floor as you return to the hotel room you’re sharing with Lando. The evening Sao Paulo air hums faintly through the window, thick with the memory of a long, disappointing race. One night here before flying back to England, and it’s clear he’s wrestling with every second of it. The race weekend just… didn’t come together. Barely scraping into Q2, battling through a tough race, and ending P6 while Max took the win. His championship dreams seem to be slipping through his fingers like sand, fading at lightspeed.

You open the door gently, taking in the quiet expanse of the hotel room and finding Lando on the edge of the bed, his back to you, head buried in his hands. Tension radiates from him, heavy and unmoving, and it tugs at your heart.

Without saying anything, you step closer, placing a careful hand on his shoulder, light as a whisper. “Lan…” Your voice is soft, a thread in the quiet.

He lifts his head, meeting your gaze with an expression so blank, it’s like he’s hollowed out. No anger, no frustration—just this bleak emptiness that stirs something deep inside you. You sit beside him, keeping your arm wrapped around him, grounding him, holding him steady.

“Lando, I—” you begin, but he cuts you off, his tone edged with exhaustion.

“Please, I don’t want to talk about it.” He lets out a frustrated breath, and you feel his shoulder tense under your hand.

You turn to face him, gently coaxing his chin up to look at you. “Lando, I know you don’t want to talk. But ignoring it won’t make it go away.” Your words are quiet but firm, steady, because he needs that right now.

His gaze flickers, a brief flash of anger, though you know it’s not really aimed at you. “There’s nothing to fix, Y/N. It’s gone. All of it, because of my driving,” he snaps, the words tumbling out before he can catch them. His anger wavers, softening just at the edges, but it stings all the same.

You take a steadying breath, resisting the urge to match his frustration. Instead, you lean closer, voice gentle yet unwavering. “You don’t get it, Lando.”

He huffs, his tone almost mocking, almost defensive. “What don’t I get, huh? If you’re so smart, then explain it to me.”

The weight of his disappointment is heavy between you both, and for a second, you hesitate. But then you see it—behind the frustration, the anger, the shame. He looks like a kicked puppy, lost and vulnerable, and it breaks your heart.

“Lando, it’s not your fault,” you say, your voice firm but full of warmth. You feel him still, his eyes flickering as he processes your words. “It’s not. The team made mistakes, the setup wasn’t right. Yes, maybe you slipped up, but you gave it everything you had.”

He’s silent for a moment, staring down, lost in his thoughts. Finally, he mumbles, barely audible, “But it wasn’t enough.”

You take his face gently in your hands, forcing him to look at you. “Listen to me, Lando. I will love you no matter what. Championship or no championship, none of that changes how I see you. I love you if you’re rich, if you’re poor, if you’re old, if you’re tired. None of this changes what you are to me.”

Your voice wavers, a rawness creeping in as your own emotions surface. “This hurts me as much as it hurts you. Seeing you like this, feeling this pain—I wish I could take it away. But this is motorsport, Lando. This is Formula 1. It’s brutal, and it’s unforgiving, and I know you know that.”

His lips part, his eyes glossing with unshed tears as he finally allows himself to feel everything he’s been holding back. The first tear slips free, tracing a line down his cheek, and you open your arms. He doesn’t hesitate—he just collapses against you, burying his face in your shoulder, gripping you like you’re the last solid thing in a world that’s crumbling around him.

You stroke his hair, the familiar scent of him filling your senses as you hold him, feeling his silent sobs shake against you. “I will love you, Lando Norris, no matter what,” you whisper, voice thick with emotion. “I need you to know that. You’re my anchor just as much as I’m yours.”

You both stay like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, letting the silence speak louder than words. You bury your face in his messy curls, and together, you grieve the almost-end of a season that held so much promise. But despite everything—the heartbreak, the frustration, the unfulfilled dreams—the love between you is fierce and unwavering, a light that refuses to go out.

And in this moment, with the world shut out, you’re two pieces of the same soul, holding each other up, finding strength in the love you share. Because even when everything else falls away, even when the races are lost and the dreams go unrealized, you’re here. And that’s all that matters.

© COPYRIGHT BELQVA 2024

SHARING THIS, ANY OF MY OTHER WORKS OR A TRANSLATION OF THEM WITHOUT CONSENT ON THIS OR ANY OTHER PLATFORM IS STRICTLY FORBIDDEN !!!

THIS IS JUST A WORK OF FANFICTION !!!

tags:

[mysterygrey]

I finally got the Book of Bill and why did nobody tell me Stan writes "love ya bro" in their brother code at the end 😭😭😭

[juaniheart]

new cpr video in my telegram group

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

Sabrina The Teenage Witch 3x11 | Holiday Mismatch

[yourbagelsbagel]

😭😭😭🥹

Tim saying it was Tommy asking specifically that broke the curse ok ok ok so 911 God Himself said that it was Tommy’s love that broke the curse sure sure sure ok right cool I’m normal. I’m NORMAL.

[mimixngg]

Is it possible for two souls to dream of each other at the same time? Because I dreamt of you last night and it felt so real, I swear I felt you on my fingertips as I pulled you closer for a kiss. And if I cannot ever see you with my eyes again, then let me see you in my dreams.

M.xg

[danni-1-graysons-version]

this line breaks me everytime i read it.

i hate the fact that emily ruined Jameson and Grayson's relationship. they were literally inseparable and now they basically hate each other.

i really hope that some day they'll find it in themselves to forgive each other, to realise that it's not either of their fault. i hope that they'll realise that emily was a little manipulative brat that was treating them both like they were a game. fuck emily.

[mypeopleskillzarerusty]

This pretty much sums up how I'm currently feeling on this Destiel eve

[smogsnuts]

This loser is all I can think about right now, I hate him sm look at his silly little sassy movements im crying 😭

Some gifs of Real Frankie’s movements I found cute!

[sdrose93]

Top Gun 1986 and Top Gun: Maverick 2022 ❤

Maverick ❤

[arinrowan]

So I hate facetime but have two small nephews who live very far away and wanted them to know who I was. So when second nephew was born, I started sending first nephew (4 years old) a postcard every week.

The content wasn't anything special. I made cookies, I saw this flower, my cats did this. He likes trucks and machinery so I scoured redbubble for anything related to machinery and got a giant batch of machine postcards. Whenever I traveled, I'd hunt down a postcard for him.

My second nephew turned four this year, and I started sending him postcards as well. Both of them like Pokemon now, so mostly it's been double Pokemon postcards every week. I don't hear much from them, or my sister, so I just generally hope they're enjoyed and try to remember to mail them before Sunday.

However. This week my mom informed me second nephew likes the postcards SO MUCH he brings them into daycare to show around. And when I shared that with my sister, she told me not only does he bring them into daycare, he sleeps with them at naptime.

The only higher honor would be for her to tell me he's eating them.