#they will celebrate no matter who ‘wins’

[f1samcro]

Small Things

“You dont ever really notice the small things until they're gone. The way the summer sun warms your skin, or the smell of oncoming rain. How warm your mothers hugs were, the excitement of trying to catch Santa. The sound of waves crashing against the shore, or the pure, unfiltered joy you had when you could play on the playground after school. 

But then you get older. The small things get smaller. And then they’re gone. Leaving you with the bittersweet feeling of nostalgia. Longing for a life you once lived, but couldn’t get back. Gone were the days of Santa catching, or playing on the playground, traded in for long days of boredom. Sitting at a desk, staring blankly at the task at hand. No more warm hugs. You’re now an adult. Too old for warm hugs. Too old for the playground. Too old for Santa. Too tired to appreciate the sounds of the beach. Never outside long enough to really appreciate the sun, or the rain. The small things got too small. And then they disappeared completely.”

Lando Norris had made it a habit recently to appreciate the small things. The smile you gave him when you opened the door. The hair that would fall around your shoulders, the reading glasses that would slide down your nose. The sound of your laugh, the warmth of you. That was the worst part of the little things. You only ever notice them after they're gone. You glasses, once sat on random tables in the house, had now disappeared. All his shirts were back on his side of the closet, instead of yours, even though you swore you didn’t know how they got there. His Twitch streams, far and few between, went uninterrupted. 

All of your little things, which he swore used to annoy him. Now left a hole in his heart. Maybe he said he hated when you would cling onto him when he got home. You couldn’t go to all the races. Maybe he said he just wanted to shower after the flight without you holding onto him. But as he pushed the door open, just getting home from the Hungarian GP, feeling utterly disappointed, angry with himself and with the team, he found himself more annoyed with the fact you weren’t jumping at him like a flying squirrel. 

He opens his phone, only to see a text from Max F, a photo, from your Instagram. 

She’s still got it going

You had decided, when you two had gotten together back in 2019, to get all his F1 achievements inked into your right forearm. Starting in February 2017, when it was announced that he was a junior driver for McLaren. And then the dates of the Belgian Grand Prix, where he took part in his first official practice session. Next was the dates of the Australian Grand Prix in 2019, his first race of his rookie season. Then the 5th of July 2020, his first podium. 25th of September 2021, his first pole. And that was as far as you had gotten before you broke up. But now. Looking at the picture Max had sent, you’d added one more. 

6/5/24- First Win

He blinked. Once. Twice. Reread it all.

Lando’s F1 Milestones

2/2017- Junior Driver Announced

24/8/18- First Official Practice Session

14-17/3/19- First Race Of Rookie Season

5/7/20- First Podium

25/9/21- First Pole

6/5/24- First Win

He remembered his first podium. Remembered you racing down the paddock towards him, jumping, wrapping all your limbs tightly around him. You were laughing, telling him how proud of him you were. 

But you hadn’t done the same when he’d won Miami. You weren’t even there.

The little things.

You listened, he talked. No matter what. You celebrated every single point he scored. Hell, you celebrated every race he took part in, regardless of his end result. “Because, you’re Lando Norris, damn it. One of the twenty people who get to be on that grid. People would kill for that chance. And maybe you didn’t do so great today. But you’ve done good enough to get the chance to race. And I’ll celebrate that every day of the week.”

The shoes you’d kick off the second you got home from work, unbuttoning the top two buttons of your blouse, and letting your hair loose from its ponytail. The loud grumbles about incompetent coworkers. The paused rant when he would come in and greet you, pausing long enough to say hi and kiss him, before launching straight back into it. The way you’d pout when he wrapped his arms around you, running his fingers through your hair, just so you’d start to calm down. 

The little things got too little. And then they were gone.

But that hadn’t happened in weeks. Not since before Christmas, before you went on holidays. Before everything went completely and utterly wrong in a matter of minutes.

He’d won Zandvoort and he’d won Singapore. But you hadn’t been there. You were here now. Abu Dahbi. Laughing with your brother in the Mercedes garage. The brother who was one of Lando’s best friends. Well, before. Now, George would rarely talk to him, unless he had to. 

You were wearing your favourite dress. His favourite, purely because you would spin around and giggle excitedly whenever you wore it. Your hair had been done in one of the styles he liked. And your smile. God, your smile. It wasn’t as bright. Didn’t quite reach your eyes, cheeks didn’t scrunch up like they normally would. You were sad. His heart stuttered when your eyes met his. And then Oscar was shuffling him along.

Unlike Lando, you had always tried to appreciate the small things. The fleeting moments of kindness your brother, George would show before going back to being a typical older brother. How pretty your sister, Clara, looked in different dresses. Even Benjy’s, albeit annoying, habit of eating all the school snacks over the weekend. You were a half-glass full, and that was that.

This year, for example. George had won two races, although one didn’t count due to a weight issue. But your big brother had been a 3x Grand Prix winner, even if only for a little while. And Lando, despite the fact you two had broken up over winter break, had gotten his first career win. And then won two more. You wanted to hate him. Honestly. But you couldn’t. Because despite the argument that had led to your break up had been bad, and you had both said horrible things to one another. But he was Lando. 

He was still your first real boyfriend. The first one who had bought you flowers. The guy who you had basically grown up with. The guy who would sit on the couch and rewatch movies and TV shows he hated, but sat through them because you loved them, and he loved seeing you smile. The guy who’d put his hand on your stomach as a heating pack, and pull you close, when cramps were bad. The guy who, on one unfortunate occasion, where you had been surprised by the terrible cramps, had forced you into the shower while he changed the sheets, and then put new clothes into the bathroom for you. The guy who ate 17 spring rolls on stream with Max once, because he had given you three. He was the person who randomly kissed you when you were 19, and quickly became the most important figure in your life.

Yes, he had hurt you. But you had hurt him too. And in all honesty, it was hard to appreciate all the little things, when your human embodiment of sunshine was gone. No more warmth, no more happiness, no more real laughter. No more little things to appreciate. 

George’s arm was heavy around your shoulders, your laughter strained and forced as you talked to Toto. You saw the papaya before you saw him. He looked like a kicked puppy. No more goofy grins. But he had looked better since Max won the championship. Your sun’s light was dimming, and you could only watch. And for a second, your eyes locked, you saw how small his ray’s had gotten, and then George was nudging you. He was gone.

You didn’t see him again until after the race. After he had won, a fourth Grand Prix for himself, and McLaren’s first Championship since 1998. You’d bumped into him. His hands grabbed your shoulders so you wouldn’t fall. 

“Congratulations,” came tumbling out of your mouth.

To you, it sounded like word vomit. To him it sounded like the most angelic sound. He nods, voice trembling, “Thank you,” you stand awkwardly for a moment, and then turn to leave, before he calls out again, “Wait!”

You turn slowly, “Yes?”

He rubs the back of his neck, “We’re, uh, celebrating. Tonight. For the-,” he cuts himself off, “If you want. Of course.”

“Oh.”

“I can text you the details, if you-”

“I’d like that.”

“Okay.”

You’d been there for 20 minutes, drink in hand. Lando was off, chatting to people with gusto. He’d obviously drunk a few drinks, and by the time he got to you, the music was louder, the room getting more packed. You hated parties, hated crowded spaces. He wordlessly appeared beside you, and tugged you outside. The stars were bright, both of you looking up at them. His voice was soft, barely audible, “The sky’s pretty.”

You turn your head slightly. You had always been the one to say things like that. Appreciating small things was your thing. But now he was doing it. And you weren’t. “It is, isn’t it?”

He turns his head, eyes slightly glassed over, “That dress is your favourite. You like twirling in it, it makes you giggle.”

You nod, “It is.”

“I started noticing those things after you left. The dresses, hair, even your stupid glasses you were always losing. I even missed your after work rants, and all my shirts being on your side of the closet, even if you swore you didn’t put them there. And you’re clinging, when I came home from races you couldn’t go to. I know I said I found them annoying, but they’re not. They’re your little things that make you, you. And I love you.”

It was the alcohol. It had to be. You two had broken up months ago. There was no way, in no world, that Lando still loved you. You felt your breathing hitch. Your heart speeds up. And he noticed. You turned to fully look at him. His eyebrow was pinched, jaw set. Lando was a man on a mission. 

“I got my first win, and you weren’t running down the paddock to jump at me like a flying squirrel. You weren’t there to tell me that I’m amazing after Hungary. Or when everybody started harassing me online. And it was hard. So I started looking at the little things. ‘Cos you always did, and I thought that somehow, someday, maybe, we could look at them together.”

You blink back the tears, voice shaking horribly, “You dont ever really notice the small things until they're gone. The way the summer sun warms your skin, or the smell of oncoming rain. How warm your mothers hugs were, the excitement of trying to catch Santa. The sound of waves crashing against the shore, or the pure, unfiltered joy you had when you could play on the playground after school. But then you get older. The small things get smaller. And then they’re gone. Leaving you with the bittersweet feeling of nostalgia. Longing for a life you once lived, but couldn’t get back. Gone were the days of Santa catching, or playing on the playground, traded in for long days of boredom. Sitting at a desk, staring blankly at the task at hand. No more warm hugs. You’re now an adult. Too old for warm hugs. Too old for the playground. Too old for Santa. Too tired to appreciate the sounds of the beach. Never outside long enough to really appreciate the sun, or the rain. The small things got too small. And then they disappeared completely.”

He stares, hands shoved into his pockets. He was nervous. You manage to push on, “And you spend the rest of your life willing for them to come back. And, y’know, sometimes they do. But they’re not the same-”

He shakes his head, “But they’re there.”

[seokminfilm]

🫂 , LYR'S MASTERLISTS: JUST SEOKMIN EDITION ! (from newest to oldest ; note that many may be privated/deleted.)

tipsy ᝢ in which you find the tipsy side of your boyfriend to be very endearing. tease ᝢ in which you find out your boyfriend is a massive tease. like the movies ᝢ in which lee seokmin (your sweetheart of a boyfriend) suprises you with a weekday dinner date (cringy pick up lines and giggling ensues). positions ᝢ seokmin had to have this conversation with you at one point, but he didn’t think it would be this soon and this desperate, either. nangs ᝢ your boyfriend can tell the new shorts he bought have a massive effect on you. love ᝢ domestic life with your boyfriend couldn't be any sweeter. field of hopes and dreams ᝢ in which you learn to admire your sweet soccer boyfriend’s over-the-top celebrations and sometimes annoying resilience. angel ᝢ why was the only person who could give you respite in your suffocating, perfectionist world a rogue motorcyclist who kissed you last night? the many faces of seokmin ᝢ your boyfriend subconsiously makes this one adorable facial expression that you can’t get over. eyeshadow stars ᝢ drawing stars on your sleeping boyfriend’s cheek with eyeshadow really made you realize how much of a star he was. attorney fever ᝢ your charming lawyer is trying to make a good, professional impression on you, but how can he do that with a bunny figurine sticking out of his suit pocket? still life ᝢ you’re in your own little world, sketching the man of your dreams (who’s also very much real, in your own bedroom, and craving your attention). let me show you ᝢ seokmin seemed detached from everything—that was until you got comfortable with someone else. forever ᝢ seokmin finds out something new about you, and still loves you just the same for it. one for me, one for her ᝢ in which seokmin buys something quite silly for your shared dog. l'amore dice ciao ᝢ warm mornings in italy with your husband are why you live (oh, and your coming baby, of course). still a human ᝢ in which seokmin knows how to calm your stressed nerves. sweetpeas ᝢ in which you're thankful that you're seokmin's sweetpea.  something about you ᝢ you finally have a chance to meet the really hot jogger you keep seeing outside of your house. how? by spilling his orange smoothie all over him. show me how ᝢ in which you win your boyfriend's attention by washing your hair with a new shampoo. monet ᝢ nightclubs weren't detective lee seokmin's thing. that was, until he met you, monet. mary janes ᝢ your kindergarten teacher boyfriend's christmas program wouldn't be complete seeing you in your adorable mary janes. destiny ᝢ seokmin was destined to be king. was your destiny to be with him? made for me ᝢ seokmin always knows how to make you feel right, even when you feel you don't look right. attracted to you ᝢ you were born to fluster your boyfriend, weren't you? mosquito ᝢ seokmin was clingy when you weren't with him for long periods of time. these were one of those periods. dokyeom with a talented cook s/o backyard boy ᝢ in which your cute neighbor-slash-good friend finally shoots his shot with you. for one last time ᝢ wii sports with your baseball boyfriend seokmin proved to be an interesting date idea. i wonder ᝢ in which you wonder what the future holds for you and seokmin. there's no one like you those big brown eyes ᝢ damn seokmin and those beautiful big brown eyes. shirt ᝢ wearing your boyfriend's shirt gets a reaction out of him. call me by your name ᝢ in which you reassure that no matter what name you call him by, you'll still love and adore him.

[diekleinesuesse]

Being best friends with Seungmin:

Being Best Friends with Seungmin means having a Friendship Full of Laughter, Love, and Support

A Heart of Gold and an Ear to Listen

Being best friends with Seungmin means having a friend who truly listens. While he might be the energetic and witty vocalist on stage, off-stage, he’s someone who genuinely cares about your thoughts and feelings. Whether you’re facing tough times or celebrating successes, Seungmin would always make time for you. You’d know that when you need to talk, he’s there, offering sound advice wrapped in humor. His ability to listen without judgment would make you feel safe and understood.

Endless Laughter: The Seungmin Sense of Humor

One of the greatest things about being friends with Seungmin would be his knack for making you laugh. He’s the type of person who can turn any situation into a comedy sketch, always with the intention of lifting everyone’s spirits. With his sarcastic wit and playful pranks, hanging out with Seungmin would never be boring. Inside jokes would fill the air, and you’d find yourself laughing until your sides hurt. Whether it’s poking fun at each other or sharing funny stories, his infectious sense of humor would create memories you’d cherish forever.

Quiet Comfort: The Calm in His Storm

Though Seungmin is often the funny one in the room, there’s a calmness to him that would make your friendship feel even more balanced. In moments when things quiet down, you’d find comfort in simply sitting together in peaceful silence. These quiet moments of connection whether it’s talking about life or just being in each other’s presence would be just as meaningful as the louder, more energetic times. It’s a friendship where you don’t need to fill every moment with words, and that quiet understanding would make you feel truly close.

Competitive Spirit with a Soft Heart

Seungmin’s playful competitive side would add a fun twist to your friendship. Whether you’re battling it out in video games, sports, or casual challenges, you’d always know that Seungmin is giving it his all. His competitiveness would make every game exciting, but it would never overshadow the joy of spending time together. At the end of the day, no matter who wins, he’d be there with a smile, cheering you on and appreciating the fun you shared.

Supportive Through Thick and Thin

True friends have each other’s backs no matter what and Seungmin would be no exception. If you’re feeling down or going through a tough time, Seungmin would be the first to notice and check in on you. He might not always have all the answers, but he’d offer his support in his own unique ways. From small gestures like making your favorite food to just being there when you need him most, Seungmin’s kindness would never go unnoticed. He’s the kind of friend who cares deeply about your well-being, even in the smallest of actions.

A Friendship Full of Shared Experiences

As best friends, you’d also get the chance to be part of Seungmin’s life as a Stray Kids member. Whether it’s joining him during rehearsals, sharing backstage moments, or hanging out with the group, you’d feel like a part of his world. Watching Seungmin’s hard work and dedication firsthand would deepen your respect for him, and you’d find yourself cheering him on from the sidelines as he does what he loves. As you spend more time together, you’d form lasting bonds not just with Seungmin but with the rest of Stray Kids, creating memories that are hard to top.

Seungmin’s Friendship: A Treasure You’ll Hold Forever

At the end of the day, being best friends with Seungmin would be an incredible experience that combines humor, deep connection, and unwavering support. His genuine care for you would shine through in everything he does, whether it’s through his jokes, his competitive nature, or his quiet moments of understanding. A friendship with Seungmin is one you’ll always treasure, filled with love, laughter, and the knowledge that he’ll always be there for you.

[tedthetalk]

One must imagine a brightly colored inhuman figure perched on top of a building cheerfully watching the streets fill with plague victims

[afurtivecake]

Andrew and Neil never getting married and never making it public that they're together is great actually, because in universe, they'd be seen as a modern version of those historical gay couples who never married, lived together all their days and ended up buried next to each other. Exy fans and sports historians will be debating their relationship and calling them "close friends" for centuries to come. Only decades after their deaths would people start wondering if maybe they've been misreading the whole Josten-Minyard teammate relationship wrong. Not necessarily for homophobic reasons because exy ends up becoming one of the sports that's most known for having out queer players, but because everyone assumed if there was anything going on between them, they'd just have announced it like all normal gay exy player couples. (publicity, sponsorships, etc. the exy fans love a good queer exy players wedding) There'd be memes made of photos taken from when their national team won gold of the team celebrating the victory and it's a close crop of Andrew and Neil in matching armbands staring into each other's eyes, Neil grinning like a madman and Andrew doing his best (and failing) not to do the same. It'd say "And they were TEAMMATES" and it'd be used whenever people go on about how so-and-so can't possibly be together because they don't fit what 'traditional relationships' should look like. They'd live entirely on their own terms and then get the last laugh decades after they're gone.

[badnew2005]

i love wins the big game soooo much i don’t care. i don’t even care about sports. i just like community and hope and faith. it’s a cute episode !

[nightmareonpeachstreet]

Being in an online community does kinda suck sometimes

Like yes I understand that this character we have all joined a subreddit to celebrate is no longer in first place in an online poll on an unrelated website. No I do not have any intention of campaigning on their behalf. I don’t actually care if other people think a different character is cooler than my own favorite character. No I don’t think they’re depraved little monsters for it, they just find another character more compelling for whatever reason and I don’t have any personal vendetta against that other character, for this or anything else, because I have in fact heard of the concept of grass before. They’re fictional characters, steven.

[mastoi123]

✨ **Rise and Shine Beautiful Souls!** ✨

[night-faye]

Y E S!!!! BEAUTIFUL SCORE

[sophiamcdougall]

You're a reasonably informed person on the internet. You've experienced things like no longer being able to get files off an old storage device, media you've downloaded suddenly going poof, sites and forums with troves full of people's thoughts and ideas vanishing forever. You've heard of cybercrime. You've read articles about lost media. You have at least a basic understanding that digital data is vulnerable, is what I'm saying. I'm guessing that you're also aware that history is, you know... important? And that it's an ongoing study, requiring ... data about how people live? And that it's not just about stanning celebrities that happen to be dead? Congratulations, you are significantly better-informed than the British government! So they're currently like "Oh hai can we destroy all these historical documents pls? To save money? Because we'll digitise them first so it's fine! That'll be easy, cheap and reliable -- right? These wills from the 1850s will totally be fine for another 170 years as a PNG or whatever, yeah? We didn't need to do an impact assesment about this because it's clearly win-win! We'd keep the physical wills of Famous People™ though because Famous People™ actually matter, unlike you plebs. We don't think there are any equalities implications about this, either! Also the only examples of Famous People™ we can think of are all white and rich, only one is a woman and she got famous because of the guy she married. Kisses!"

Yes, this is the same Government that's like "Oh no removing a statue of slave trader is erasing history :(" You have, however, until 23 February 2024 to politely inquire of them what the fuck they are smoking. And they will have to publish a summary of the responses they receive. And it will look kind of bad if the feedback is well-argued, informative and overwhelmingly negative and they go ahead and do it anyway. I currently edit documents including responses to consultations like (but significantly less insane) than this one. Responses do actually matter. I would particularly encourage British people/people based in the UK to do this, but as far as I can see it doesn't say you have to be either. If you are, say, a historian or an archivist, or someone who specialises in digital data do say so and draw on your expertise in your answers. This isn't a question of filling out a form. You have to manually compose an email answering the 12 questions in the consultation paper at the link above. I'll put my own answers under the fold. Note -- I never know if I'm being too rude in these sorts of things. You probably shouldn't be ruder than I have been.

Please do not copy and paste any of this: that would defeat the purpose. This isn't a petition, they need to see a range of individual responses. But it may give you a jumping-off point.

Question 1: Should the current law providing for the inspection of wills be preserved?

Yes. Our ability to understand our shared past is a fundamental aspect of our heritage. It is not possible for any authority to know in advance what future insights they are supporting or impeding by their treatment of material evidence. Safeguarding the historical record for future generations should be considered an extremely important duty.

Question 2: Are there any reforms you would suggest to the current law enabling wills to be inspected?

No.

Question 3: Are there any reasons why the High Court should store original paper will documents on a permanent basis, as opposed to just retaining a digitised copy of that material?

Yes. I am amazed that the recent cyber attack on the British Library, which has effectively paralysed it completely, not been sufficient to answer this question for you.  I also refer you to the fate of the Domesday Project. Digital storage is useful and can help more people access information; however, it is also inherently fragile. Malice, accident, or eventual inevitable obsolescence not merely might occur, but absolutely should be expected. It is ludicrously naive and reflects a truly unpardonable ignorance to assume that information preserved only in digital form is somehow inviolable and safe, or that a physical document once digitised, never need be digitised again..At absolute minimum, it should be understood as certain that at least some of any digital-only archive will eventually be permanently lost. It is not remotely implausible that all of it would be. Preserving the physical documents provides a crucial failsafe. It also allows any errors in reproduction -- also inevitable-- to be, eventually, seen and corrected. Note that maintaining, upgrading and replacing digital infrastructure is not free, easy or reliable. Over the long term, risks to the data concerned can only accumulate.

"Unlike the methods for preserving analog documents that have been honed over millennia, there is no deep precedence to look to regarding the management of digital records. As such, the processing, long-term storage, and distribution potential of archival digital data are highly unresolved issues. [..] the more digital data is migrated, translated, and re-compressed into new formats, the more room there is for information to be lost, be it at the microbit-level of preservation. Any failure to contend with the instability of digital storage mediums, hardware obsolescence, and software obsolescence thus meets a terminal end—the definitive loss of information. The common belief that digital data is safe so long as it is backed up according to the 3-2-1 rule (3 copies on 2 different formats with 1 copy saved off site) belies the fact that it is fundamentally unclear how long digital information can or will remain intact. What is certain is that its unique vulnerabilities do become more pertinent with age."  -- James Boyda, On Loss in the 21st Century: Digital Decay and the Archive, Introduction.

Question 4: Do you agree that after a certain time original paper documents (from 1858 onwards) may be destroyed (other than for famous individuals)? Are there any alternatives, involving the public or private sector, you can suggest to their being destroyed?

Absolutely not. And I would have hoped we were past the "great man" theory of history. Firstly, you do not know which figures will still be considered "famous" in the future and which currently obscure individuals may deserve and eventually receive greater attention. I note that of the three figures you mention here as notable enough to have their wills preserved, all are white, the majority are male (the one woman having achieved fame through marriage) and all were wealthy at the time of their death. Any such approach will certainly cull evidence of the lives of women, people of colour and the poor from the historical record, and send a clear message about whose lives you consider worth remembering.

Secondly, the famous and successsful are only a small part of our history. Understanding the realities that shaped our past and continue to mould our present requires evidence of the lives of so-called "ordinary people"!

Did you even speak to any historians before coming up with this idea?

Entrusting the documents to the private sector would be similarly disastrous. What happens when a private company goes bust or decides that preserving this material is no longer profitable? What reasonable person, confronted with our crumbling privatised water infrastructure, would willingly consign any part of our heritage to a similar fate?

Question 5: Do you agree that there is equivalence between paper and digital copies of wills so that the ECA 2000 can be used?

No. And it raises serious questions about the skill and knowledge base within HMCTS and the government that the very basic concepts of data loss and the digital dark age appear to be unknown to you. I also refer you to the Domesday Project.

Question 6: Are there any other matters directly related to the retention of digital or paper wills that are not covered by the proposed exercise of the powers in the ECA 2000 that you consider are necessary?

Destroying the physical documents will always be an unforgivable dereliction of legal and moral duty.

Question 7: If the Government pursues preserving permanently only a digital copy of a will document, should it seek to reform the primary legislation by introducing a Bill or��do so under the ECA 2000?

Destroying the physical documents will always be an unforgivable dereliction of legal and moral duty.

Question 8: If the Government moves to digital only copies of original will documents, what do you think the retention period for the original paper wills should be? Please give reasons and state what you believe the minimum retention period should be and whether you consider the Government’s suggestion of 25 years to be reasonable.

There is no good version of this plan. The physical documents should be preserved.

Question 9: Do you agree with the principle that wills of famous people should be preserved in the original paper form for historic interest?

This question betrays deep ignorance of what "historic interest" actually is. The study of history is not simply glorified celebrity gossip. If anything, the physical wills of currently famous people could be considered more expendable as it is likely that their contents are so widely diffused as to be relatively "safe", whereas the wills of so-called "ordinary people" will, especially in aggregate, provide insights that have not yet been explored.

Question 10: Do you have any initial suggestions on the criteria which should be adopted for identifying famous/historic figures whose original paper will document should be preserved permanently?

Abandon this entire lamentable plan. As previously discussed, you do not and cannot know who will be considered "famous" in the future, and fame is a profoundly flawed criterion of historical significance.

Question 11: Do you agree that the Probate Registries should only permanently retain wills and codicils from the documents submitted in support of a probate application? Please explain, if setting out the case for retention of any other documents.

No, all the documents should be preserved indefinitely.

Question 12: Do you agree that we have correctly identified the range and extent of the equalities impacts under each of these proposals set out in this consultation? Please give reasons and supply evidence of further equalities impacts as appropriate.

No. You appear to have neglected equalities impacts entirely. As discussed, in your drive to prioritise "famous people", your plan will certainly prioritise the white, wealthy and mostly the male, as your "Charles Dickens, Charles Darwin and Princess Diana" examples amply indicate. This plan will create a two-tier system where evidence of the lives of the privileged is carefully preserved while information regarding people of colour, women, the working class and other disadvantaged groups is disproportionately abandoned to digital decay and eventual loss. Current and future historians from, or specialising in the history of minority groups will be especially impoverished by this.  

[theambitiouswoman]

How to develop discipline:

1. Set clear goals. What do you want to accomplish and why does it matter to you? Break the goals into small, actionable steps (feels doable).

2. Create a daily schedule that prioritizes most important items on the list. Keep it consistent to form habits over time.

3. Start small. Focus on one discipline building habit at a time to avoid getting overwhelmed. Gradually increase your commitments little by little.

4. Get rid of distractions that hinder your focus (e.g., social media during work).

5. Use accountability partners if possible. And/or track your habits. Use an app or check off from your list (this feels so good!)

6. Have self control! Resist small urges to build willpower (e.g., delay instant gratification). Commit to showing up even when you don’t feel like it. Especially when you don’t feel like it.

7. Stay consistent. Discipline is built by sticking to your commitments daily, not just when it’s convenient. Progress, not perfection is what matters.

8. Embrace the discomfort. Challenges are growth opportunities. Train yourself to act despite discomfort or boredom.

9. Celebrate every win & reward yourself for milestones to stay motivated.

10. Reflect on failures without judgment and adjust your plan. You will have to adjust your plans quite a few times. Don’t get set in your ways.

11. Spend time with disciplined and goal oriented people. You become who you surround yourself with. Their habits will inspire and influence you positively.

12. Keep your WHY in mind.

[yuujispinkhair]

Hockey player! Sukuna headcanons

Inspired by this lovely ask by @subarusuguru. You made my head spin with the idea of hockey player Sukuna!! Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts with me! I had to write a little something 💗

Pairing: Hockey player!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: fluff + smut Word Count: 700 Warnings: 18+, smut, mentions of injuries, but nothing bad. All characters are of age. Divider by @/benkeibear

Hockey player!Sukuna, who is a devil on the ice. The rival teams always know they will have several injured players after each match against Sukuna. He has a very aggressive playstyle, and his speed and strength, combined with his quick mind, make him unstoppable.

Hockey player!Sukuna, whose maroon eyes always find you when he enters the ice. He winks at you and makes a kissy face, laughing when you blow him a kiss back. The whole hockey arena can know that you are his, and he is yours. And anyone who dares make a rude comment about him being so soft for his girl will receive a brutal body check that sends them facefirst onto the ice or into the boards.

Hockey player!Sukuna, who has a mad glint in his eyes during the whole match. He is ambitious and confident, and he always plays to win. He loves being an asshole and taunt his opponents, laughing when he can get under their skin with his snide comments. But no matter how much Sukuna riles them up, they still aren't able to stop him because he always puts his whole anger and strength into his game.

Hockey player!Sukuna, who is a completely different man when he goes on the ice with his princess. Treating you with so much care and being such a gentleman. He holds your hand to make sure you don't fall when he teaches you how to ice skate. And once he can see you are ready for the next step, he lets go of you and tells you to skate toward him to get a kiss.

Hockey player!Sukuna, who has so much fun when showing you how to play hockey. Your time on the ice is filled with playful fights and good-natured teasing comments that are so flirty that you get butterflies the whole time. His laugh sounds different too, happy and free, and he only uses his strength to pick you up and pin you against the boards so he can kiss you until you are breathless.

Hockey player!Sukuna, who grins that charming grin when he lets you score and praises you for being such a natural talent, even though you know you suck. Of course, Sukuna also has to show off a little in front of his girl, and he steals the puck from you easily, making you gasp at his speed and watch with wide eyes and a smitten expression on your face as your boyfriend skates across the ice and shoots the puck into the goal with so much force it almost rips the net.

Hockey player!Sukuna, who feels a proud buzz running through his veins anytime he sees you in his jersey. Somehow it drives him crazy to see you walking around with his last name on your back. It spurs him on to play even better and show you that he is worthy to be your man. Maybe he should buy a ring and give you his last name on your ID too, and not just on a jersey.

Hockey player!Sukuna, who loves to fuck you in the locker room after every match when his teammates have left. A victory fuck to celebrate when he is still pumped full of adrenaline and euphoria, pulling you onto his lap and bouncing you on his thick cock while groaning in your ear and telling you that it is all thanks to your love and support that makes him play so damn good. Or an angry fuck after a loss to make him feel ok again, lifting you up and slamming you against the shower wall, snapping his hips fast, fucking you hard and deep, growling your name when he cums in you and finds sweet relief in your warm cunt.

Hockey player!Sukuna, who can't stop smiling when you dote on him when he is injured after a rough match. He has a high pain tolerance and doesn't really worry all that much about the injuries, but he loves it when you take care of him and look at him with so much worry in your eyes. It makes him feel so warm, and so he happily plays along and lets you change his bandages, pet his hair, and cuddle him.

Hockey player!Sukuna, who loves to win, but who thinks his biggest victory was winning your heart.

I am so in love with him!! Thank you so much for sending me that prompt!! I hope you liked my little headcanons ;)

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗

[cinnam0nic3girl]

How to Live Your Dream Life on a Budget

1. Define Your Dream Life

Clarify Your Priorities: Identify what truly matters to you. Is it travel, a peaceful home, pursuing a passion, or more time with loved ones?

Set Realistic Goals: Break your dream into achievable milestones. This helps make the process feel manageable and less overwhelming.

2. Focus on Experiences, Not Things

Prioritize meaningful experiences over material possessions. For example, a picnic with friends can be as fulfilling as dining at an expensive restaurant.

Look for free or low-cost activities in your area, such as community events, nature trails, or local museums.

3. Budget Strategically

Track Your Expenses: Use budgeting apps or spreadsheets to understand where your money goes and identify areas for savings.

Cut Unnecessary Costs: Reduce spending on non-essential items, such as subscription services you don’t use or frequent takeout meals.

Save Smartly: Allocate a portion of your income, no matter how small, to a "dream fund" for your long-term goals.

4. Leverage Resources and Skills

Learn for Free: Use free online resources like YouTube, Coursera, or local libraries to develop skills or hobbies that align with your dream life.

Barter or Trade Skills: Exchange your expertise for goods or services. For instance, offer graphic design in exchange for language lessons.

5. Maximize What You Have

Repurpose and Reuse: Upcycle old furniture, clothes, or decor to create a refreshed living space without spending much.

Enjoy Simple Pleasures: Appreciate small joys like reading a book, journaling, cooking, or spending time outdoors.

6. Pursue Low-Cost Travel

Take advantage of budget-friendly travel options like camping, house-sitting, or volunteering abroad (e.g., WWOOF or Workaway).

Use travel rewards or discounts to save on flights and accommodations.

7. Build a Support Network

Surround yourself with supportive people who share your values and inspire you.

Join communities (in-person or online) that focus on minimalism, frugal living, or achieving dreams on a budget.

8. Stay Positive and Flexible

Embrace Gratitude: Celebrate small wins and recognize the progress you’ve made toward your dream life.

Adapt Your Vision: Understand that your dream life may evolve over time, and that’s okay. Be open to new opportunities and adjustments.

Examples of Dream Lives on a Budget

A Creative Lifestyle: Pursue writing, painting, or photography with inexpensive tools and platforms to share your work.

An Adventurous Life: Explore local attractions, hike nearby trails, or road trip on a budget.

A Peaceful Home: Create a cozy, welcoming space using thrifted decor and DIY projects.

Pursuing Personal Growth: Dive into free or affordable online courses, read self-improvement books, or attend community workshops.

Your dream life isn’t about how much money you have—it’s about how you use your resources to align with your values and aspirations. With intention and creativity, even modest means can lead to extraordinary fulfillment.

[jamminvroomvroom]

busy.

ln x fem!reader

in which there’s a whole club of people waiting to celebrate the race winner, but he’s a bit busy…

hehehehe i’ve been cooking this one up since he won!! obsessed with this, it’s really not my best work in terms of literary masterpieces, but…. it’s horny self indulgence. enjoy, lemme know what you think, love you!!!

songs to set the mood: the alchemy by taylor swift, agora hills by doja cat, so high school by taylor swift, starboy by the weeknd

warnings: 18+!! minors dni i am so serious! this is just. porn without plot (with a lil plot) like this is peak feral needy lando, dom!lando, oral (f&m receiving), spanking, accidental voyeurism?, max verstappen, dry humping, unprotected sex (don’t do that!), touch of fluff as well, established relationship, crying, overstimulation

3.8k words

tears well in your eyes, the blurry screen telling you absolutely nothing, but it doesn’t matter anymore. he’s done it. the screams engulfing the garage seem to rattle all around you, the vibrations pushing your elation up another notch.

lando norris, formula 1 race winner.

your lando.

his voice floods your ears, so loud that the headphones seem to quiver as he screeches. a few tears roll thick down your face when he thanks his mum and dad, dedicates the win to his grandma, but then he says your name and you forget how to breathe.

“i’m nothing without you, baby.” his voice breaks, and your body is wracked with sobs.

various arms are slung over your shoulder, members of the team guiding you out of the garage and into parc ferme. the metal barrier digs into your ribs as you lean against it, desperate to catch a glimpse of him. his car rolls into position, the p1 marker sending another wave of emotion through you, and when he pulls himself out, he stands tall, proud, points to the sky.

you fall in love with him all over again.

he’s slapped on the back and passed around by the drivers but when he sets his sights on the sea of orange, nothing else exists. he’s flying over your head before you can even register it, elevated by the team and you watch him in awe. when he sees you, eyes locking with yours, a heart-melting, pantie-dropping grin spreads across his face and you can see the redness lining his eyes.

i love you he mouthes.

he’s lowered to the ground, spinning round to face you immediately. he tugs you as close as he can, the barrier definitely leaving it’s mark on both of you, and kisses you messily. all of the energy that he has left, all that he can muster, is put into the kiss, leaving you breathless, tugging on the fabric of his race suit like you’ll die if he gets taken away.

“‘m so proud of you.” you whisper against his lips, shivering as his thumbs graze your cheekbones.

“i love you so fucking much.” he beams, teeth clashing with yours when he kisses you with a smile.

“go get that trophy, mr norris.” you coo, and he winks, pressing his lips to your forehead. then, he’s gone.

champagne vapour leaves your skin sticky.

-

“lando, we gotta go.” you breathe, head rolling back to give him even more access to your strained neck, resting against the door of your shared hotel room.

you’re draped in orange satin, obviously, the short dress clinging to you deliciously, the one you always pack just in case. lando had been trying to convince you to stay in and let him have his way with you, and the second he walked out of the bathroom, still dripping from his shower, there was no way the pair of you were heading anywhere in a hurry.

“says who?” he grunts, his hips digging into yours.

“there’s a whole club waiting to celebrate with you-“

“the only person i want to celebrate with is you.” he punctuates his words with a harsh nip of his teeth.

“lando.” you whine in protest, not because you actually want him to stop, but because you don’t want to deprive him of a night out with his friends.

“try and convince me to go one more time, and i’ll edge you until you fucking cry.” he licks up your neck, tugging you from against the door, and guides you towards the bed. “and when you’re begging for me to make you cum, i’ll get you dressed up all pretty and we’ll go to the club with you dripping down your thighs.”

your lips quivers, caught between your teeth at his promise. you know he means it. his eyes darken when you nod quickening your pace until you’re stood at the foot of the bed. he’d only made it as far as putting his jeans on, so you rake your nails down his chest, watching as the tanned skin pales as you dig your fingertips in.

you teeter on your tip toes, leaning up to kiss him but he pulls back, smirking, holding you at arms length while he wiggles his jeans off and clambers onto the bed. you pout, watching him position himself up against the headboard, curling two fingers that beckon you forwards. you kick off your heels, crawling up the bed until you sit pretty on his lap, your dress riding up your thighs as you straddle him, leaving the lace of your panties flush against the cotton of his underwear.

you lean in to kiss him, but his fingers catch your chin, holding you back. you whine at the way he restrains you for a second time, wanting nothing more to melt into his frame while you lick into his mouth. he tuts, damp curls falling over his forehead.

“five minutes ago you wanted to go out.” lando tilts his head accusingly, a teasing lilt to his tone.

“changed my mind.” you hum, attempting to roll your hips. he slaps your thigh, light enough that it doesn’t hurt, hard enough that you sink into submission.

“you’re gonna have to prove that to me.” he sighs, feigning sympathy. you’re pulsing against him, and he can feel the damp heat of your cunt. “you’re gonna grind your little pussy on me until i can see how wet you are. gotta convince me, baby.” he grins at you, flashing his teeth. your jaw goes slack.

“lan.” you moan, eyes widening at his instruction.

“show me how bad you wanna congratulate me.” lando’s voice drops an octave, gravelly and direct, sending bolts of lightning down your spine.

you rock your hips over his bulge, slowly at first, tentative for the first couple of glides. you can feel how hard he is, your clit bumping the thick head of his cock as you grind down on him. your wetness begins to seep through the skimpy lace as you pick up the pace, revelling in the friction, the fire that you’ve lit between your two bodies.

lando makes no effort to help you, not at first, watching smugly as you slick him up. he can feel your warmth washing over him, the way you struggle to keep going as the pleasure builds. he focuses his eyes on the splotch growing on his crotch, honing in on the way your folds are slipping out of your quite frankly useless underwear. his lip catches between his teeth, pupils blown wide. his self restraint completely dissolves, one hand tangling in your hair, slotting his lips over yours, while his other flies to your waist forcing your hips backwards and forwards.

“wanna get my tongue on you, taste the mess you’ve made.” he mumbles against your lips. your thighs clench around his waist, rutting frantically on his lap. “‘n then i’m gonna get my fingers inside of you. it’ll be so easy, won’t it? can feel you dripping already. messy girl.”

“please.” you rasp. “lando, i need you.” you’re pleading, pushing his curls back and tugging hard at the chocolate strands.

“oh, honey,” he starts, flipping you onto your back. you gasp, smoothing your hands over the slope of his back, your nails raking between his shoulder blades. “i’m gonna have you exactly how i want you.”

he doesn’t have to work too hard to get you naked, peeling sodden lace down your thighs and shoving the satin of your dress over your tits, off of your frame. it cascades onto the floor, wrinkled in a heap, but you couldn’t possibly care less, not when he’s snaking down your body on a mission. his tongue drags over your clavicle, over the curve of your breast, stopping briefly to tease your nipple. he scrapes his teeth over the bud, continuing his trail over your abdomen, the plush skin of your belly.

“say please.” lando taunts, staring up at you through thick lashes. he rests his head against your hip bone, raising an eyebrow. you’re shaking already, in no mood to play games. if this is what he wants, you can’t deny him. he’s your race winner.

“please, baby. want your tongue on me.” you pant, softening your eyes in sheer desperation.

“where?” he coos, punctuating his borderline cruel question with soft kisses over your navel.

you smile coyly, keeping eye contact as your fingers dart between your spread thighs. you dip into your folds, splaying them open for him, tracing your clit a few times. you’re utterly soaked, impressed almost.

“right here.” you’re blushing, but you know just how he likes it, and your tactics are proven right when he groans, guttural and feral, pinning your thighs to the mattress.

your head thuds against the pillows at the sensation of the first swipe, his tongue dragging from your opening to your swollen clit. his face is submerged between your thighs, you can’t see him anymore, but you can certainly feel him. you can feel the slow glide of his tongue, tasting every little drop of you, can feel the vibration when he hums out in pure bliss.

it makes your head spin, the way most guys would expect you to drop to your knees, but lando gets his kicks on his, lost between your thighs. your eyes roll back every time he burrows himself deeper, slurping obscenely where you’re dripping.

“lando!” you grit your teeth, nearing the edge, and it spurs him on, two fingers running up the crease of your thigh, lathering through your wetness.

the digits glide inside of you seamlessly, casting an echo of noise that makes you blush. he groans against your clit - you’re utterly soaked - sending a buzz shooting up your spine.

“oh, baby.” he slurs, enticed, rutting against the mattress. you’re in an absolute state, and it’s all his fault.

two fingers curl, your feet kick out uncontrollably, and he laughs, laughs, into your cunt. you can’t help yourself, barrelling towards your release, unable to resist the rush of white hot pleasure. he fucks his fingers into you even faster, you scream, throat going raw as he scissors in and out of you. your foot finds his shoulder, trying to kick him away, teetering dangerously close to the brink of overstimulation. he doesn’t let it phase him, aside from the furrowing of his brows in annoyance, slinging your leg over his shoulder and splitting you open.

“my- oh god.” you choke, spasming up the mattress. he’s not even thrusting his fingers anymore, instead he’s grinding them against that one special spot, sucking hard at your clit.

you cum again, limp on the mattress, eyes squeezed shut. you’re slurring his name, babbling incoherently when he pulls off of you, sitting back on his knees. he looks proud of himself, too proud, smirking at your lifeless body. you feel like you’re part of the mattress, so sunken into it and exhausted. he’s covered in you, lips swollen maroon, fingers coated. every part of him that has touched you seems to shine in the dim light. his curls have dried now, fluffy and untamed, falling over his greying eyes.

“taste better than champagne.” he whispers, falling onto his forearms and caging you in.

your skin litters with goosebumps, his bare chest against yours, and you crane your head, lazily kissing him. you can taste yourself on his lips, mouthing down his jaw until you reach the sensitive skin below his ear. you scrape your teeth down his jugular, slow, sinking in softly to the bulk of his shoulder. he falters, shivering, collapsing his entire body weight onto you.

plump lips suck purple splotches onto the base of his neck, where no one will see.

you want him to lose control, ram into you and fuck you like he’ll die if he doesn’t, so you continue to tease, misbehave as you rake your teeth over his bronzed skin. his eyes are shut, thick lashes dusting his cheekbones as he succumbs to your torture. your hand skims his belly, muscles pulled taut under your fingertips, and you find the band of his boxers, dipping under the fabric. he registers your touch, and something within him snaps, his eyes flying open. he rolls off of you, finding his feet as he moves from the bed to the mini fridge.

“on your knees.” he grins at you, beckoning you to the carpeted floor.

you’re dazed, staring at the green bottle in his hands. condensation runs down the thick glass of the champagne bottle and you blank, utterly perplexed by what he’s about to do, your thighs involuntarily clenching. lando’s impatient, tutting as his hand wraps around your ankle, tugging you down the bed towards him. you’re shocked back to reality by his brazenness, scrambling from the mattress. you fall to your knees, licking your lips in anticipation, watching him through gleaming doe eyes. he softens, captivated by how ready you are for him, but it’s short-lived and the smirk returns.

“go on, baby. you know what to do.” lando strokes your cheek soothingly. your fingers curl into his waistband once again, and this time he lets you drag his boxers down. his cock springs free, hard and weeping, and your mouth fills with saliva, urgently taking him into your hand. “open wide.”

you look up at him just in time, watching how he raises the champagne bottle. he shakes it, once, twice, and your jaw drops as he pops the bottle. the liquid sprays, frothy and golden, dripping down your chest, over your tits, down your belly. you’re sticky, stickier, watching him in awe as the liquid pools around your knees. you notice how he’s glistening, the spray catching his abs, dripping south.

the noise he makes is carnal, a sigh of relief sounding when you lick over his hip bone, tracing your tongue over his pelvis until you reach the base of his cock. his hips stutter when you take him between your lips, the tip hitting the back of your throat as he immediately gives in to the warmth of your wet mouth. one of his hands works through your hair, bobbing you backwards and forwards, the other clasping tight around the neck of the bottle. he raises it to his parted lips, tipping his head back as he does, the liquid falling into his mouth. your eyes trace the curve of his neck, the swell of his lips, the way his knuckles have turned white contrasting the green glass. you wouldn’t be surprised if you were dripping onto the carpet.

“look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” lando grins dopily, his nails scratching over your scalp. the moan that emits, low and needy from the back of your throat, makes him shudder. “enough now.” he pulls you off of him, but he leaves you on your knees.

the hand in your hair travels to cup your jaw, his thumb flush against your reddened lips. he pulls them apart, bringing the bottle down to your level. you accept it, welcoming the fizzy burst of liquid, swallowing it down in gulps that make your head spin. there’s pride in his eyes when you keeps yours trained on him.

“so good for me, so well behaved.” he mumbles, more to himself it seems, but the praise still leaves you weak.

lando extends his hands, the bottle forgotten on the desk, and he pulls you to your feet, flush against him. you grab at him desperately, pawing at his lean body like he’ll disappear.

“you’re so pretty.” he whispers, nosing over your jaw. you flush, cheeks tinting deep and warm. “‘m so in love with you.” he purrs into your ear.

heat and raw emotion flood through your veins, and you’re shoving him backwards towards the bed, climbing on top of him. your knees bump his hips as you straddle him, your hair fanning his shoulders as you kiss him hard.

“love you. ‘m so proud. wanna show you.” your words come out frenzied, muffled as they get lost to his mouth. your teeth clash with his, his winning smile moulding against yours.

“yeah, baby? gonna show me?” lando’s eyes rake over your frame, his hands guiding your hips. you raise yourself up, your hands lining you up, and then…

“oh.”

“fuck.”

you sink down on him, filling yourself up slowly, the both of you panting already. the glide is slow, easy; he’s so big but you’re so wet.

“aren’t you glad we didn’t go out?” he hisses through gritted teeth, entranced by the way you feel, everywhere, all over him.

you nod, frantic in your agreement, your eyes rolling back in your head as you bottom out. it’s addictive, the stretch of him, your hands gliding over his abs as you try to find some balance. you rock your hips, revelling in the slow grind, up and down. your clit grazes his pubic bone with every rise and fall and you swallow hard, his body sticky under your fingertips.

“you did so good today, lan, so pretty up on that top step.” you pant, circling your hips. he groans, pulling you down so that you’re chest to chest, your lips centimetres apart, when the moment is stolen.

lando’s phone buzzes, over and over, max verstappen’s face filling the iphone screen. lando looks at the device on the bedside table, cursing under his breath.

“must be wondering where the race winner is.” you giggle, choosing to make light of the situation, rather than dwell on your ruined orgasm.

“he can wait.” lando grunts, fingers bruising your hips when he flips you onto your back, his cock staying buried so deep inside of you that you see stars when you hit the mattress.

your leg is thrown over his shoulder callously, a stoniness in his eyes that wasn’t there before. he’s determined to finish you off, show you just how bad he’s wanted you all day, remind you that you’re in bed with a someone who knows how to win. the angle change is jarring, it takes you a minute to adjust, not that he gives you the courtesy, fucking into you how you both like it as the call rings out through the room.

“baby- lando!” you yelp, your belly tight. the waves of pleasure swell in your core, his merciless antics send you barreling towards another orgasm. you’re teetering over the edge, his thumb flush against your clit, spasming at his manipulation, dangerously clos-

buzz buzz buzz buzz.

buzz buzz buzz buzz.

“for fuck sake!” lando swears, pulling out of you. you whine wantonly at the loss, pouting up at him.

he drags you to the edge of the bed until your legs hang over, flipping you angrily onto your belly. your cheek is pressed into the duvet, your toes barely graze the floor. his ringtone continues to sound out and he hastily grabs his phone. he hits the green button the same time he slides back into your cunt.

“what, max?” he spits, thrusting into you, so deep that you can’t help the screech that burns the back of your throat. it’s obscene, really, the way you gush around him at the knowledge that someone else is listening in, at the fact that lando takes pride in how good he makes you feel.

you try to muffle your cries, really, you do, but lando has other plans. he gathers your hair, winding it around his fingers so that he can pull your face out of the comforter. you sob, loud, the lewd squelch of where you’re joined with him more than audible.

“i’m busy. fuck off.” lando growls throwing the phone down onto the bed, conveniently right next to your head. the call is still in progress, but max is quick to hang up when he hears your shaky breath, poorly concealed squeals.

“you’re insane.” you manage to choke out. he laughs wetly, the sound making you dizzy.

lando shuffles the pair of you up the bed, propping you onto your knees, all the while hammering into you with that athletic stamina that makes your head spin. the pad of his index finger traces your thigh, finding home on your clit and the tears fall harder, blurring your vision. he pulls your back to his chest, beginning a deep grind that renders your speechless.

“you liked that, didn’t you? him hearing how good i make you feel.” lando’s breath fans the shell of your ear. you nod, mumbling something incoherent, too blissfully exhausted.

‘cuz you’re so good to me. so so good to me.

“thought about shoving your panties in your mouth to shut you up, but you ruined them, didn’t you baby?” lando circles your clit harder, tugging at your earlobe “remember? when you weren’t being a good for me? but you are now, aren’t you, honey? you’re my good girl, hm?”

you clamp down around him, heat licking down your spine. you’re clammy with sweat, glazed with champagne, at one with him. lando shudders as you tighten around him, holding you as close as he can get. you writhe against him when you hit your peak, slumping against him as you quiver. pearly whites sink into your flesh, hard enough to to ground you, not enough to hurt you. you love it, him, everything about this. you coax him into his orgasm, his thrusts turn sloppy and he cums, thick and hot.

it takes a solid five minutes before you can move, the pair of you crawling up the bed, stretching like two sun-kissed cats. you’re sweaty, stuck together tangled between white bedding that definitely needs changing.

“that was-“

“better than any race win.” lando sighs, languidly smiling against your hair line where he lays gentle kisses, his entire demeanour changed in a matter of minutes.

“you’re just saying that.” you tease, drumming your fingers over his chest.

“no, ‘m not. i loved every moment of today, best day of my life,” he breathes, dazed. “but i love you more.”

-

max sips his drink, the dial tone sounding through his ears.

“just won a fucking race and he’s not here yet.” oscar laughs. typical lando.

the call goes to voicemail, but max is drunk, persistent, and quite frankly, feeling a little annoying.

“‘m gonna try him again.” max nods his head, tapping against his phone screen impatiently.

“did you consider the fact that he might be… busy?” charles smirks into his drink, slumping against the back of the booth.

it’s too late, the ferrari drivers suggestion falls on deaf ears. max has made the call, again, but this time he gets an answer.

“where the fuck are you?” max asks, but then his face pales.

“what?” oscar tilts his head, watching in confusion as max wrinkles his nose.

the phone goes flying from max’s hands, thudding against the cushioned seats, his jaw hanging agape. once the disbelief subsides, he’s giggling like a child.

“guess he was busy then, hm?” charles raises a knowing eyebrow.

“yeah,” max is red now, cackling. “something like that.”

-

hehe whoops

-

taglist

@boysthatgovroomvroom @welld0nebaku @thegirlinthefandoms @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys  @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne

[mickyschumacher]

[BREAKFAST IN BED!]

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: the racing season is finally over and lando is more than excited to have you all to himself. or in which lando prefers his breakfast in bed with you as the main course.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minor dni), breastplay, grinding(?), teasing, oral sex/eating out/cunnilingus, fingering, pure moments of fluff because bf!lando is the sweetest, discussion of lando mentally struggling at the start

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: bf!lando norris x fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2k+

𝐀/𝐍: i promised a post before the end of the year and it happens to coincide with a holiday of giving ;) merry christmas and happy hanukkah to those who celebrate it! and happy new year! // as usual poorly proof-read ♡︎ (sorry if it's shitty, i haven't written a full-piece in a while)

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

The season was over. Finally.

Not to be offensive or anything but you had been waiting for this moment for what, this year, felt like forever.

Yes, it was action packed–largely due to the fact that a certain RedBull wasn't winning every race. Yes, McLaren had whipped up the fastest car on the grid to shake things up. And yes, the same team had clinched their ninth World Constructor's Championship.

And while that made you absolutely over the moon, all you had wanted was for some peace and quiet on a random Wednesday morning so you could (maybe creepily) ogle your handsome boyfriend.

Was that too much to ask for?

It had been a tough season for Lando and naturally, as you promised from the very start of your friendship alone–that you would stick by his side no matter what–you had also been through the thick of it.

Convincing Lando to not look at the comments after every session or race had been difficult. You tried your best to remove any negativity that clouded his mind. Some days it worked and some days it didn't.

But that was life. And that was then.

Now you were wide awake at some odd time in the morning, laying comfortably on your stomach with your head turned towards Lando. There was about one degree of separation between the both of you, allowing you to carefully observe him.

Lando was never an early bird. If he was, it would be by some miracle or your upper arm strength pulling him from the sheets. A small smile crept onto your face. You had been friends for years now and together for even shorter. Yet you still couldn't believe that the sleepy bird next to you was yours entirely.

His dark tousled and recently cut curls, the stress lines on his forehead you were always aching to smooth out and comfort with the pad of your thumb, his "perfectly normal sized ears" that you definitely never made fun of, his lovely lashes you were jealous of, and the soft pink lips you couldn't decide whether to touch or kiss.... all yours.

Behind all the stupidity, humour, and claimed 'indifference' Lando sported on camera and with others, you always knew his heart. It was open for everyone and had more than enough love to go around. You were in love with the biggest sap you had ever known.

And on top of all of that, he made it out of that car to you... alive... every goddamn time.

You were luckier than you could ever imagine.

"How long are you going to stare at me, love?" Lando's voice queried, thick with the rasp of the morning and the events of last night.

You slightly widened your eyes, watching him open those beautiful baby blues and land on you. An flustered flush of heat wavered up your skin. You bit your lip before slipping beneath the covers, feeling the warmth envelope your skin entirely. You started with a muttered curse.

"How long have you even been awake, Lan? That's so embarrassing," you chided with a muffled tone.

Unbeknownst to you, Lando couldn't help but grin at your sudden shy demeanour. It was hard for anyone to imagine you as shy but he had seen every side of you. How enjoyable it was that even after all these years, he could tease you and see how flustered you could get. If he had met you when you were kids, this is exactly how he imagined you'd be.

He stretched out his taut arm, grabbing you by the waist. His skin swarmed with heat as he felt your bare waist under your shirt as he pulled you over him. He moved your knees so you straddled him.

He pressed his lips to prevent a full blown smile at what he was seeing.

Your hair was fully covering your face, head down and hands hovering over to hide the tinges of pink and red on your skin.

"Baby... come on, love. Show me your face," Lando encouraged, nudging your hair lightly with the side of his finger. "Come on, baby."

You groaned, lifting your head, feeling all your tresses go back. You blankly stared at your boyfriend with burning cheeks. "I hate you," you mumbled, giving him a small glare.

Lando snorted, putting his hands firmly on your waist. His fingers edged up behind the hem of your shirt, rubbing small circles into your bare skin. "You love me. Someone who hates me wouldn't stare at me so lovingly."

"I–" You tried to open your mouth to retaliate but to no avail as you quickly came to the realisation that he was indeed correct. As Lando usually was with these things.

"Fine. You got me," you sighed admittedly, "I just missed waking up next to you in the morning. Is that such a horrible crime?" You dramatically asked, tease heavy in your voice.

In any other situation, Lando would've narrowed his eyes at your teasing but all he could do was gaze softly at you. You weren't able to travel with him all the time and he wasn't able to spend every day with you. You both knew that. And while it sucked, you had both gotten used to it, cherishing when you were together.

But this year... Lando had spent every living second wishing you were next to him. He wanted you to tell him your god awful jokes. To look at him from across the room and take his entire breath, mind, whatever, away. To drop the fake smiles and rest in your arms with all the time in the world.

"No," Lando whispered, warm eyes travelling over your face, trying to find anything new to memorise. Anything he had missed since seeing you. "That isn't a crime. If it was, I'd be guilty as charged."

Your breath hitched while a small shiver trickled down your body as Lando pushed back a lock of hair behind your ear. You chewed down on your lip before breaking into a smile gently. "I love you, Lando Norris. Forever," you murmured, placing a brief kiss onto his lips.

Lando stared at you hard, far more awake than he had ever been. He lifted his head slowly, holding you close to him. And without a second thought, he brought his lips to yours.

This kiss was different from the others you had shared. Perhaps it was the atmosphere or context that accounted for that different but the need, the love, the softness and the brutal passion was poured into every fibre of your being

Your hands curled around the back of his neck, pulling him tighter while your nose glided against his as Lando only just begun ravaging your mouth. He sucked on your lips with a small nibble here and there, relishing the muffled moans passing your lips.

His own hands continued to travel the path of your body he had committed to memory. He knew as he traversed your heated back exactly where the dark freckles he had come to love were.

Your soft moans became more audible and pleasing to Lando's ears as he curled his lips to your neck, leaving the sloppily yet controlled path of possessive kisses down base of your skin. He could feel your pulse against his skin and God, he wanted to burn it into his brain and save it.

"Lando," you gasped as you felt a sudden jerk underneath you, feeding into the pooling wetness between your thighs. Your teeth sunk into your pillowy bottom lip, your hips automatically responded by grinding down onto Lando's bulge.

"Ah, fuck," Lando cursed, feeling his cock throb in his underwear. His eyes fluttered shut, hands immediately returning to your hips to continue the stimulating pleasure.

You were driving him crazy.

Both of your skin was covered in a thin sheen of sweat as you felt Lando's clothed cock rut into your poorly covered pussy. You rocked your hips harder into him, feeling a slight jolt against your clit. "Oh, fuck, Lando," you moaned his name in his ear, fingers curling into his skin.

Lando opened his eyes, drawing back to capture your face. Your dazed eyes, glowing skin, panting lips, the way your hips bowed towards him... he had missed you. So. Fucking. Much.

"I want breakfast," Lando blurted with a slight gasp as the pleasure rocked through his body.

You stopped moving your hips, body shuddering from the halt. You raised a brow at the sudden desire but shrugged it off considering you were way past breakfast hours and you were only human. "Okay," you responded, about to move off of Lando to head to the kitchen.

Lando reached over, hand pulling your body back towards him, rolling your body so he hovered over you between your legs. "Where are you going?" he tutted, "Breakfast is right here."

You seemed to lose the ability to speak with Lando's hand kneading the flesh of your thighs, implying exactly what he wanted. You breathlessly watched his head move over your body. His tongue lapped at your skin, travelling to any bare patch he could find as though he wanted to feast on you. His warmth made your core tingle as you arched into his touch.

You were positively going to lose your mind.

His hands slid under your shirt, burning your skin until he could fill his palms with your breasts. "Oh baby," Lando moaned, fingers teasing your soft mounds. "I love your tits so fucking much."

A choked cry broke through your lips upon hearing his confession, fingers brushing against your hardened nipple almost painfully slowly. No matter how many times he said it, it set you alight.

"Lando," you moaned loudly, hoping he could read and hear the sound that beckoned him towards your aching core.

He paused, allowing you to take in the heavenly sight of Lando's bare chest, decorated only by the necklace you had gotten him on his birthday last year. In turn, his gaze was only focused on your core.

You tested your lung capacity, taking in a sharp inhale as he pressed his knuckles against your panties, purposely pushing harder against on the ball of your clit. You faltered at the smile sprawling on his face, your hips jolting forward and mouth unable to contain a desperate yelp.

Lando was every inch as desperate as you were, taking no time to waste. His fingers hooked onto your panties and removed them in one swift motion, leaving you bare from the waist down.

Your stomach churned at the sight of Lando nestling his head into your inner thigh, his once light blue eyes now dark and heavy with desire as he inhaled the scent of you. The moan escaping his lips made you shiver.

You were sure you were dripping. You could feel the slick trail down your pussy, glistening in a patient wait to be touched just like you were.

Your eyes fell back to Lando who groaned your name. "I promise to God, I'm going to make you cum so hard that breakfast in bed will be the only option you have," he stated so surely against your skin as his fingers slid from the seam of your entrance to your clit, bundling all your wetness onto his hand.

Oh god.

"Lando, please," you begged shamelessly, legs aching to clench together to relieve the pain of being untouched.

Your legs trembled around Lando's head, his hot breath nearing your pussy while his mouth drew closer. You watched him take you in for the last time before his lips firmly sealed over your aching clit.

The burst of pleasure cut through your body so sharply. Your cry of joy echoed in the late morning, hips bucking against his mouth.

Lando's hands travelled to the outside of your thighs, grasp tightening to keep them spread open on his shoulders. "Keep them open, baby," he ground out.

It took everything in your power to keep your legs from collapsing, particularly as he made his point with another hard to suck to your clit, but you body seemed to follow his command. His mouth returned your wet folds, tongue swirling around every crevice before coming back to the most sensitive part of you, turning you into absolute mush.

Your hands had found their way to those mop of curls you cherished so much, legs trying to conform around Lando's shoulder to welcome any better angle of pleasure.

Your gasp at the sudden dismissal of his mouth was short lived, any chance to complain gone as his fingers pushed into your slick folds, stretching your clenching muscles out.

"Fuck yourself on those pretty little fingers for me, baby. I need you ready for me," Lando encouraged breathlessly as something feral inside of him emerged.

His fingers stroked your swollen walls from the inside, ensuring you felt every inch of them along the sensitive front wall of your pussy while his tongue glazed over every puffy slick fold like you were golden honey.

Lando watched in torture as he pushed his fingers in and out of your walls, your body jerking forward at the sheer pleasure. "That's it, baby," he continued to praise you.

"Doing so well for me, hmm?" He asked, a gleam of your wetness coating his lips. Moving his free hand down your thigh, he gathered your flesh in his fingers before reaching the small bundle of nerves, thumb going in small firm circles.

You were beginning to feel numb. A cold yet hot tightness coiling within your core, waiting to be unleashed. "Lando," you gasped, struggling to keep your head up, "fuck, I–I think I'm going to cum."

"Yes, baby," Lando coaxed, fingers speeding up with every action they had entailed, "Cum for me, please. Keep your eyes open. Look at me, love."

You fought the urge to squeeze your eyes shut, forcing your eyes to travel to those familiar baby blues. All the trillion nerves in your body felt like entangled knots tied by Lando's tongue while his fingers found the sweetest spot of your pussy and held to you that pinnacle.

Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip while Lando held your gaze, tongue sliding, curving up, and pushing in and out of every crevice. Your pussy finally succumbed to the hard pressure, clenching muscles squeezing hard at the sharp pinch of pain.

The pain was explosive, searing, and all-consuming.

You cried.

You cried so loudly you were sure your neighbours would be complaining any minute now.

It didn't matter. Not when the pleasure shooting through you was disproportionately and literally blowing you out of this world as though it had been seated and waiting to be released since the dawn of time itself. Your hips bucked and stuttered while you squirmed and writhed against the bed, the fabric of your shirt sticking to your sweaty skin.

Lando's mouth had never left you through your orgasm, tongue still deep in your folds, savouring all the convulses, shudders, and clenches of your body.

Even better yet, he had watched every second of you falling apart.

And it absolutely drove him crazy.

Lando's hand rushed to catch your falling body, holding you up as a small wave of exhaustion crashed into you. You stared at Lando shiftless, still seeing the faint image of floating stars across his face.

Oh my god.

Lando had broken you with his tongue.

You watched Lando lick his fingers clean as you slowly removed your legs from his shoulders. You lifted your head, pressing a long kiss onto his lips.

Lando grinned, cradling his arms around your body as he pushed you both into the bed yet again. He pushed back your slightly greased hair, caressing your cheek gently. "You okay?"

His query made you feel soft all over. You smiled into his hands and nodded. "Perfect," you chirped, hands hanging over his neck.

"So... breakfast in bed?" Lando offered knowingly as he massaged your thighs gently. You were not walking to that kitchen.

You furrowed your brows. "What about my breakfast?"

Lando wanted to question you but as his eyes followed your gaze, the answer became as clear as the aching bulge underneath his boxers.

"Oh."

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

[moonlitwitchdaisy]

mlb player!gojo who is the most arrogant player on the team, because he’s the best player in the baseball world.

mlb player!gojo who, during games, takes off his jersey and flexes his muscles after every home run, giving fans material for thirst trap edits on social media.

mlb player!gojo who is such a notorious womanizer that he’s seen with a new model, actress, or celebrity every week. He never looks for a serious relationship because nothing is more important to him than his career.

mlb player!gojo who gets scolded by his manager after a scandal breaks out about him and his best friend (NBA’s star player Suguru Geto) hooking up with the same girl at a nightclub.

mlb player!gojo who feels nervous for the game after the scandal because paparazzi won’t leave him alone, and the media has labeled him a “man-whore.”

mlb player!gojo who steps onto the field for the game but is too distracted to focus. When it’s his turn to bat, he makes the worst hit of his career—something no one would have expected from him—and the ball ends up hitting you, a spectator who only came to the game because your friend insisted.

mlb player!gojo who realizes what he’s done and immediately leaves the field to rush to your seat, hoping the person he accidentally hit is okay. Running up to your row, he spots you clutching your face in pain, and the sight makes him curse under his breath. Kneeling down, he asks, “Are you alright?”

mlb player!gojo whose heart nearly stops when he looks into your tear-filled eyes because you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

mlb player!gojo who starts apologizing profusely but is suddenly snapped out of it when you slap him across the face. As he holds his stinging cheek, he hears a string of creative curses from you (ones even he hasn’t heard before) and struggles not to laugh. When your friend helps you leave the stadium, Gojo watches your retreating figure, knowing in that moment he’s just met the woman he’s been searching for his entire life.

mlb player!gojo who gets chewed out by his club and manager after the game but begs them for help finding the injured fan so he can make amends.

mlb player!gojo who, the day after the incident, contacts you through his manager via email to offer to cover your hospital expenses and asks to meet with you. When he sees your reply, stating, “Please tell your star player he can go straight to hell,” he bursts out laughing. While his manager thinks he’s lost his mind, Gojo is ready to try every possible way to reach you.

mlb player!gojo who doesn’t give up and tracks down the bookstore where you work. When he shows up, you’re still working despite having a bandage over your eye. Seeing the smug smile of “the best player in the sport you now hate the most,” you demand to know what he’s doing there and how he found you. With his usual calm demeanor, he replies, “Once I set my mind on something, I don’t stop until I make it happen.”

mlb player!gojo who somehow convinces you to go out for an apology dinner with him when your eye heals (you’re not even sure how you said yes). When he arrives outside your apartment at the time he promised, he's left breathless. Standing in front of him, blushing with embarrasment in your red dress, you watch Gojo opens the passenger door for you, and even though you still claim to hate him, his persistence makes you see him as a little more decent.

mlb player!gojo who spends the car ride battling his own desires because the most perfect woman in the world is sitting next to him.

mlb player!gojo who keeps you laughing throughout dinner and ensures you have an amazing time. To win your forgiveness, he gifts you an original 1894 edition of Pride and Prejudice, your favorite book. Your stunned expression leaves you speechless, which only makes him laugh. (And of course, he doesn’t let you return the gift, no matter how much you protest.) When you kiss his cheek at the end of the night before heading into your apartment, he gazes at you with lovestruck eyes.

mlb player!gojo who texts you every morning when he wakes up, before and after practice, and on his way to your place to ask what you’d like to eat. Even though you beg him to stop, deep down, you don’t want him to. Besides, who could stop Gojo anyway?

mlb player!gojo who tries to convince you to come to another game. When you refuse, he promises not to hit you with the ball this time. After half-heartedly punching him, you finally give in and agree to attend next week’s game.

mlb player!gojo who is hectic on the day of the game, knowing the woman he loves will be watching him live. Though his teammates ask why he’s so excited, he keeps your identity a secret to protect your privacy.

mlb player!gojo who runs straight to your seat after making the game-winning hit. Overcome with excitement, he kisses you—the woman he knows likes him but has never admitted it—fulfilling his long-time dream. When you pull him back for another kiss, tossing aside all your reservations, he whispers, “You’re all I’ve ever wanted.” And from that moment on, you’re officially together.

mlb player!boyfriend!gojo who asks you to move in with him just two days after your first kiss because he can’t stand being apart from you any longer. Though it feels sudden, you don’t really want to be away from him either.

mlb player!boyfriend!gojo who keeps your relationship out of the public eye. While you’re willing to face the world for him, protecting your privacy means everything to him.

mlb player!boyfriend!gojo who, once a notorious playboy who cared about nothing but his career, has now found the most precious thing in his life—you.

.ᐟ would you like to meet gojo’s best friends? (nba star!geto headcanons┊uefa champion!nanami headcanons)

.ᐟ Champions League Masterlist

all rights belong to the @moonlitwitchdaisy do not copy, reproduce, or translate my work.

gojo art by @teaforgods on X.

divider by @enchanthings-a