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Pregnant Mouse
A student describes his first 'brush' with C.S. Lewis -
So anxious was I not to be late for our first meeting that I turned up one week early and found (fortunately) that he was not present. But the journey was not entirely wasted, for I learned something strange about him in the course of a chat with a cleaner whom I met at his door. She told me with much rolling of the eyes that he had forbidden her to set a trap for a mouse she had spied in his rooms, his reason being that the creature, which he had been observing himself, was pregnant. -Tom McAlindon
Lewis once wrote to a child fan who had sent him drawings of Reepicheep -
I love real mice. There are lots in my rooms at College but I have never set a trap. When I sit up late working they poke their heads out from behind the curtains just as if they were saying, 'Hi! Time for you to go to bed. We want to come out and play.'
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Daddy Bearman: Hi, I’m Ollie’s dad. My son is racing for Ferrari—
Charles, Lewis, Max, Seb, Carlos, Entire Ferrari Team, Literally Every Other Driver:
#they whipped out those adoption papers FAST#ollie just smiling on the side like :) while the other drivers fawn over him#ollie bearman#oliver bearman#formula 1#formula one#f1#f2#charles leclerc#max verstappen#sebastian vettel#lewis hamilton#carlos sainz#carlos sainz jr#saudi arabia gp 2024
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Drivers as animals headcanons presented by plushies with hats:
RedBull Ferrari
Mclaren Mercedes
Aston Martin Alpine
Haas Williams
VCARB Sauber
#been waiting to make an animals headcanon post so here’s something cute :)#also shoutout to wewentcarracing for enlightening me with seal lance propaganda#havent been able to see lance as anything else since then#its too perfect#fernando alonso#max verstappen#lance stroll#lando norris#carlos sainz#george russell#oscar piastri#charles leclerc#lewis hamilton#and the others#f1#f1 grid#grid post#my edit
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GPDA Statement regarding "Drivers Misconduct"
#f1#formula 1#george russell#max verstappen#charles leclerc#lewis hamilton#oscar piastri#carlos sainz#lando norris#pierre gasly#and the others
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so that's what they were planning in that giant helmet 😭😭
#i'm so proud of them#gpda#max verstappen#charles leclerc#lewis hamilton#geroge russell#sebastian vettel#oscar piastri#carlos sainz#franco colapinto#fernando alonso#and all the others#f1#formula 1
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um did no one clip this? new 2016 silver war lore from nico himself?? brocedes the gift that never stops giving 😭
(tl;dw: lewis got nico sent to the stewards to review whether nico's pole lap was legal as the last few corners were completed under yellow flags)
#i loveee how nico was so vehement that it wasn't “snitching” per se because lewis worded it so carefully to the stewards#“[lewis] was always very smart” oh my god....#he LOVED the mind games deep down they both fucking relished it didn't they#just completely matched each other's freak to a T#nr06#4406#brocedes#nico rosberg
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"Am I interrupting?" "No, no."
DICK WINTERS, HARRY WELSH, and LEWIS NIXON EP 1 Currahee, EP 3 Carentan, EP 10 Points | Band of Brothers
#my boysss <3#obsessed with watching their heads swivel at each other like meerkats#band of brothers#dick winters#lewis nixon#harry welsh#the three person group chat goes crazy <3#my edits#winnix#ynadotgif
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live britney react from Abu Dhabi 2021 pre-race interview
#figured this needed to be on my blog#the way he frowns a little and straights up as Jenson turns to him. comical#taking 1000 hits of psychic damage#this was the first time lewis implied he wasn't a good teammate to Nico. the narrative always had been Nico was the sole mind gamer#they were both not good very bad for/to each other!!!#thats brocedes baby#lewis hamilton#brocedes#AD21#my gifs#nico rosberg#jenson button#yes and teammate
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Welcome to the Darcy auditions, please give us your best impression of a disgruntled penguin
Thank you, we'll be in touch
#honestly#some are closer than others#but mostly#disgruntled penguin#pride and prejudice#mr darcy#fitzwilliam darcy#the brood#scowl#jane austen#pride and prejudice adaptation#colin firth#elliot cowan#matthew rhys#matthew macfadyen#david rintoul#alan badel#laurence olivier#lewis fiander#jj feild#daniel vincent gordh#justin mortelliti#conrad ricamora#sam riley#peter cushing
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Mika Hakkinen & Lewis Hamilton throughout the years
#they are very dear to me actually#they are a very underrated duo and no one talks about them 😭#like they were really close to each other esp the Lewis in MCL and Mika stayed close to him even after Lewis moved to Merc#i always think about their winter vacation together and that video of Lewis playfully pushing Mika in the snow and both of them laughing#lewis hamilton#mika hakkinen#mika häkkinen#formula 1#f1
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Merry as a Cricket
Thanks for your good wishes on my marriage. It is as good as the first one was bad.
With Bill I lived in perpetual anxiety; if it wasn’t women it was drink, and if it wasn’t drink it was bad temper and smashed crockery and public scenes, and always it was money; just getting him out of bed in the morning and coaxing him to do a little work meant three hours’ exacting work for me!
With Jack the only problem is to keep him from working too hard and sacrificing himself to all the rest of us. He is really a saint, and that’s not a word I use lightly.
In addition, he’s got ten times Bill’s charm and brains and talent and wit, and he’s as merry as a cricket—and, as you can see, I’m overwhelmingly in love with him!
-Lewis' wife Joy writes to her cousin, May 1958
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I'm sorry but the irony of Nico calling Max unprofessional is sending me so bad like sir there's an entire garage full of people, who were literally in the trenches trying to survive the Brocedes fallout while just doing their jobs, who might have a few things to say about your (& Lewis') level of professionalism at that time 😭✋️
#f1#formula 1#formula one#max verstappen#nico rosberg#lewis hamilton#brocedes#like niki lauda had to try multiple times to literally parent trap them to try and get them on speaking terms it never worked#because one would arrive they'd see the other and the other would leave#& if i remember correctly the garage crew would swap around from race to race as a like see we aren't favouring anybody gesture 😭#and thats no shade to nico because it was both of them contributing to that environment#his comment re max is just making me laugh#like if i was a part of the pr/media team - which is a part of the degree I'm working on irl - at merc that year i would've lost the plot#like its insane reflecting on it nearly a decade later but the poor souls just trying to do their job in the eye of that storm#truly gods strongest soldiers#ngl the professional comment irks me a bit because its not like max is engaging in inappropriate work place behaviour#he's engaging in another aspect of racing that his involvement raises awareness of & that makes racing more accessible#& we all know how inaccessible not only getting into racing is but also to continue to pursue the further along you go#theres so many stories of 1 sibling giving up racing so the other can keep going because the family can't afford for them both to race#its a huge financial strain & we only see a handful of drivers talk about that & try to do something to change it#and nicos fellow sky sports commentators are routinely unprofessional on so many levels#additionally max had a lot of valid reasons to be annoyed at his team today#but alas he's not english so he's ungrateful#i hate that drivers can't criticise their teams or car without immediately being branded as bratty & ungrateful#ESPECIALLY WHEN THEIR JOB IS TO GIVE FEEDBACK#you can see the double standards from sky when say Lando or George have complaints with their team/car v the likes of Max and Yuki#especially Yuki my god the things i would do to get the British media to leave him alone#this was a jokey post at one point and then became a rant whoops lmao#I'll leave it that before i write an actual essay here 😭✋️
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“Most beautiful duo on the grid” bit will only last 6 races before both fanbases attempt to kill eachother
#f1#this is like 6344 all other again where everyone was happy and excited#then collapse in the second season#lewis hamilton#charles leclerc
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The ache will go away, eventually.
That was what the Professor told them, the day they got back. When they tumbled from the wardrobe in a heap of tangled limbs, and found that the world had been torn from under their feet with all the kindness of a serpent.
They picked themselves off of the floorboards with smiles plastered on child faces, and sat with the Professor in his study drinking cup after cup of tea.
But the smiles were fake. The tea was like ash on their tongues. And when they went to bed that night, none of them could sleep in beds that were too foreign, in bodies that had not been their own for years. Instead they grouped into one room and sat on the floor and whispered, late into the night.
When morning came, Mrs. Macready discovered the four of them asleep in Peter and Edmund’s bedroom, tangled in a heap of pillows and blankets with their arms looped across one another. They woke a few moments after her entry and seemed confused, lost even, staring around the room with pale faces, eyes raking over each framed painting on the wall and across every bit of furniture as if it was foreign to them. “Come to breakfast,” Mrs. Macready said as she turned to go, but inside she wondered.
For the children’s faces had held the same sadness that she saw sometimes in the Professor’s. A yearning, a shock, a numbness, as if their very hearts had been ripped from their chests.
At breakfast Lucy sat huddled between her brothers, wrapped in a shawl that was much too big for her as she warmed her hands around a mug of hot chocolate. Edmund fidgeted in his seat and kept reaching up to his hair as if to feel for something that was no longer there. Susan pushed her food idly around on her plate with her fork and hummed a strange melody under her breath. And Peter folded his hands beneath his chin and stared at the wall with eyes that seemed much too old for his face.
It chilled Mrs. Macready to see their silence, their strangeness, when only yesterday they had been running all over the house, pounding through the halls, shouting and laughing in the bedrooms. It was as if something, something terrible and mysterious and lengthy, had occurred yesterday, but surely that could not be.
She remarked upon it to the Professor, but he only smiled sadly at her and shook his head. “They’ll be all right,” he said, but she wasn’t so sure.
They seemed so lost.
Lucy disappeared into one of the rooms later that day, a room that Mrs. Macready knew was bare save for an old wardrobe of the professor’s. She couldn’t imagine what the child would want to go in there for, but children were strange and perhaps she was just playing some game. When Lucy came out again a few minutes later, sobbing and stumbling back down the hall with her hair askew, Mrs. Macready tried to console her, but Lucy found no comfort in her arms. “It wasn’t there,” she kept saying, inconsolable, and wouldn’t stop crying until her siblings came and gathered her in their arms and said in soothing voices, “Perhaps we’ll go back someday, Lu.”
Go back where, Mrs. Macready wondered? She stepped into the room Lucy had been in later on in the evening and looked around, but there was nothing but dust and an empty space where coats used to hang in the wardrobe. The children must have taken them recently and forgotten to return them, not that it really mattered. They were so old and musty and the Professor had probably forgotten them long ago. But what could have made the child cry so? Try as she might, Mrs. Macready could find no answer, and she left the room dissatisfied and covered in dust.
Lucy and Edmund and Peter and Susan took tea in the Professor’s room again that night, and the next, and the next, and the next. They slept in Peter and Edmund’s room, then Susan and Lucy’s, then Peter and Edmund’s again and so on, swapping every night till Mrs. Macready wondered how they could possibly get any sleep. The floor couldn’t be comfortable, but it was where she found them, morning after morning.
Each morning they looked sadder than before, and breakfast was silent. Each afternoon Lucy went into the room with the wardrobe, carrying a little lion figurine Edmund had carved her, and came out crying a little while later. And then one day she didn’t, and went wandering in the woods and fields around the Professor’s house instead. She came back with grassy fingers and a scratch on one cheek and a crown of flowers on her head, but she seemed content. Happy, even. Mrs. Macready heard her singing to herself in a language she’d never heard before as Lucy skipped past her in the hall, leaving flower petals on the floor in her wake. Mrs. Macready couldn’t bring herself to tell the child to pick them up, and instead just left them where they were.
More days and nights went by. One day it was Peter who went into the room with the wardrobe, bringing with him an old cloak of the Professor’s, and he was gone for quite a while. Thirty or forty minutes, Mrs. Macready would guess. When he came out, his shoulders were straighter and his chin lifted higher, but tears were dried upon his cheeks and his eyes were frightening. Noble and fierce, like the eyes of a king. The cloak still hung about his shoulders and made him seem almost like an adult.
Peter never went into the wardrobe room again, but Susan did, a few weeks later. She took a dried flower crown inside with her and sat in there at least an hour, and when she came out her hair was so elaborately braided that Mrs. Macready wondered where on earth she had learned it. The flower crown was perched atop her head as she went back down the hall, and she walked so gracefully that she seemed to be floating on the air itself. In spite of her red eyes, she smiled, and seemed content to wander the mansion afterwards, reading or sketching or making delicate jewelry out of little pebbles and dried flowers Lucy brought her from the woods.
More weeks went by. The children still took tea in the Professor’s study on occasion, but not as often as before. Lucy now went on her daily walks outdoors, and sometimes Peter or Susan, or both of them at once, accompanied her. Edmund stayed upstairs for the most part, reading or writing, keeping quiet and looking paler and sadder by the day.
Finally he, too, went into the wardrobe room.
He stayed for hours, hours upon hours. He took nothing in save for a wooden sword he had carved from a stick Lucy brought him from outside, and he didn’t come out again. The shadows lengthened across the hall and the sun sank lower in the sky and finally Mrs. Macready made herself speak quietly to Peter as the boy came out of the Professor’s study. “Your brother has been gone for hours,” she told him crisply, but she was privately alarmed, because Peter’s face shifted into panic and he disappeared upstairs without a word.
Mrs. Macready followed him silently after around thirty minutes and pressed an ear to the door of the wardrobe room. Voices drifted from beyond. Edmund’s and Peter’s, yes, but she could also hear the soft tones of Lucy and Susan.
“Why did he send us back?” Edmund was saying. It sounded as if he had been crying.
Mrs. Macready couldn’t catch the answer, but when the siblings trickled out of the room an hour later, Edmund’s wooden sword was missing, and the flower crown Susan had been wearing lately was gone, and Peter no longer had his old cloak, and Lucy wasn’t carrying her lion figurine, and the four of them had clasped hands and sad, but smiling, faces.
Mrs. Macready slipped into the room once they were gone and opened the wardrobe, and there at the bottom were the sword and the crown and the cloak and the lion. An offering of sorts, almost, or perhaps just items left there for future use, for whenever they next went into the wardrobe room.
But they never did, and one day they were gone for good, off home, and the mansion was silent again. And it had been a long time since that morning that Mrs. Macready had found them all piled together in one bedroom, but ever since then they hadn’t quite been children, and she wanted to know why.
She climbed the steps again to the floor of the house where the old wardrobe was, and then went into the room and crossed the floor to the opposite wall.
When she pulled the wardrobe door open, the four items the Pevensie children had left inside of it were missing.
And just for a moment, it seemed to her that a cool gust of air brushed her face, coming from the darkness beyond where the missing coats used to hang.
#oh also I want to clarify just in case - the 'offerings' left by the pevensies aren't meant to be anything weird#they're just little mementos that were special to them that they left there in case the wardrobe ever opened again#so whoever was on the other side could find them and maybe it would be somebody they'd known and loved during their time in narnia#i do have someone in mind who found the items but I'll leave whoever it is up to you :)#i just thought it would be nice for them to have a way of saying goodbye to the narnia they knew/creatures they loved during the golden age#sort of a way to let go of it and also leave something behind as a memory#narnia#tcon#the chronicles of narnia#lucy pevensie#peter pevensie#susan pevensie#edmund pevensie#mrs macready#digory kirke#the lion the witch and the wardrobe#cs lewis#ramblings from the void
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races stamps
#m*#i could sell these as stickers maybe#maybe do more w the other race wins#and some of the important points for other drivers. like alex silverstone points#yuki points#etc#formula 1#f1edit#charles leclerc#lewis hamilton#oscar piastri#george russell
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