#truck norris moment

[whatwooshkai]

splish splosh has 23 been done yet for the ask game? :3

(also I swear to Primus HEATWAVE STOP DOING THAT UR GONNA GIVE EVERYONE A SPARK/HEART ATTACK-)

"This song sucks," Heatwave snaps, giving his engine an annoyed rumble.

"This is the lesser of all evils," Kade argues back, waving a hand. "Radio's shit right now."

"Fine," Heatwave growls, and suddenly the dial starts spinning, stations flipping rapidly. "If Earth radio is so shit, I'm putting on my radio."

There's a burst of static, a beat of silence, then a voice fills the cab, speaking a language Kade has only ever heard snatches of.

"Is he speaking Cybertronian?"

"NeoCybex," Heatwave corrects automatically. "Common. We have more than one language, you know."

Kade shakes his head. "Okay. Whatever. Is Cybertron, like, a gazillion light years away? How the fuck are you getting this station?"

Heatwave's head on the monitor gives a little tilt, and the cab rumbles, as if he's shrugging. "You can always call in to Truck Norris' show. I don't question it."

"Wait. Wait. Back the fuck up." Kade grips the wheel and leans forward. "'Truck Norris?'"

"Yeah," Heatwave says. "That's the host's name. What about it?"

"I-" Kade doesn't know what to say. How is he possibly supposed to explain to Heatwave that his strange radio host who apparently has a frequency that is strong enough to reach Earth has a name that's basically a stupid pun of a famous human. How. "I feel like you're not hearing yourself."

"Wait. Shut the fuck up," Heatwave snaps, and Truck Norris seems to be finishing off a sentence. Kade does as asked, staying silent as fucking Truck Norris speaks again, and then a familiar voice speaks over the radio, his voice a mix of soft clicks and purrs and whirrs, with the cadence of a question.

No fucking way.

But it's over just as fast as it happened, and Truck Norris' voice is back, a soft click coming through signalling the end of the call in.

"Okay, let me get this straight," Kade demands. "You not only can get this radio station from a billion-jillion light years away, you can also call in?!"

"Yeah," Heatwave says, his voice heavily accented for a second. He resets his voice box, and the accent is gone in the next sentence. "He's always taking callers."

"I feel like you're not understanding how freaky this is," Kade stresses, tapping a nervous beat on the wheel. "I'm not science guy, but this shouldn't be possible at all-"

"Shut up," Heatwave snarls, and Kade shuts up, as the volume dial spins and suddenly sound is flooding through the speakers.

It's unlike anything Kade has ever heard before. The closest thing he can relate it to is experimental rock, but even that's a stretch.

It sounds like heavy machinery and it sounds soft and loud at the same time, and there must be someone singing, a powerful, echoey, a mechanical voice holding and hitting notes most singers could only dream of.

And it's... not bad. In fact, Kade kind of likes it.

Heatwave's head on the monitor is bobbing along softly, as if doing it unconsciously.

They're quiet for a while once it's over, listening to Truck Norris talk and another bot call in, before Kade finally asks: "Was that a song?"

"Yeah," Heatwave says quietly, but there's a smile in his voice. "My favorite, actually. Haven't heard it in a while." The beginning of the song plays a bit, before suddenly being cut off. "And I have it recorded now." He's quiet for another moment, before asking, "What'd you think?"

Aw. That's... oddly vulnerable, coming from Heatwave. So Kade is honest. "I liked it," he says. "And I think I'd like to hear more."

Heatwave's engine gives a delighted purr.

------------------------

"What's this?"

Kade's head snaps over to the CD Haley is studying. "Oh, that?" he says smoothly, holding out a hand, which she places it into. A clear jewel case and a CD with "Heatwave" scrawled on it in sharpie. "I think it's a band," he lies easily. "Found it in a thrift store. I searched them up but there's nothing, so they must be really underground. It's this weird, like, experimental metal rock. Want to listen?"

"Sure!"

It's actually a CD of Heatwave's favorite Cybertronian songs. Boulder and Graham took the recordings and burned them onto a CD for him, and they're working on ones for the others. Still, no one has questioned Truck Norris yet.

Kade's actually taken quite a liking to Cybertronian music. It's kind of pretty, in its own way. And Cody absolutely loves it. Human vocal chords are not built for the proper pronunciation of NeoCybex "words", but that doesn't mean he's not going to try.

The CD loads and the first song begins to play. Haley looks taken aback for a second, before leaning forward, falling into the rhythm immediately.

It makes it a little hard for Kade to keep his eyes on the road.

[f1girliefics]

Their Reaction to You Being Pregnant - Preferences

A/N: Both planned and unplanned pregnancies below.

Daniel Ricciardo

It was a planned pregnancy and yet it hit you like a truck. You have been trying for so long, you almost gave up.

You planned a special dinner and even bought a special gift for him.

Little socks.

You gave it to him during dinner and watched as his face morphed into confusion.

"Isn't this too small for me to wear?"

"For you, perhaps, but not for our little one." you put him out of his misery as his smile grew bigger and bigger and tears fell from his eyes.

He would be so proud to finally become a dad.

Max Verstappen

Your pregnancy was unplanned but it was a nice surprise.

You had a stable relationship and you did talk about children before.

The way you told Max was not cute or romantic, you just basically blurred it out one day while watching TV.

"Come on Max! Your baby mama is craving some popcorn."

Oops.

He was shocked but then you spoke again. "I'm pregnant." to confirm what you just said.

Once he is able to close his mouth and talk, he will tell you that he is indeed happy.

"I just can't believe it!" he said.

"With the way you behaved for the entire summer break... I'm not shocked." you gave him a wink as he handed you the popcorn.

Fernando Alonso

He always wanted you.

Even if you were years younger. You didn't care about his age, you loved him.

It was a complicated love with many headlines.

Your pregnancy became one of the biggest, claiming you are a gold digger.

But Fernando didn't care for the headlines. He loved you and your baby.

Even if it was an unplanned baby, it was definitely not an unwelcome one.

"I would do anything for the two of you." he promised you the day you told him about your pregnancy.

Lance Stroll

You told him about your pregnancy on his birthday.

At first, he didn't believe you, but then he would be so thrilled he picked you up and spun you around for two minutes.

You had to tell him you would throw up if he didn't put you down.

Lewis Hamilton

You two would be trying to have a child for years when you finally get pregnant.

Both of you would be told by your doctor after weeks of hope due to your symptoms.

He would be so happy, he would shed many tears and he would be unable to stop hugging you.

On your way home, you would stop by to start and plan your baby's room.

George Russell

He would be in the middle of a meeting when you texted him. He could only check your messages after the meeting. George would drop his phone upon seeing the picture you sent.

5 pregnancy tests, all positive.

He would pick up his now broken phone and call you, rushing to his car to go home.

But you picked up the phone and you sounded so happy, it made all his worries lift off of his shoulders.

"We are having a baby George! I'm so happy!"

All his worries and doubts, out the window, the second he heard your laugh.

George will never forget that moment and how he cried of happiness at a red light.

Lando Norris

You two constantly joked about you getting pregnant.

When you started using pills instead of condoms, it was a constant joke between you two.

Lando did like to play with the idea of getting you pregnant.

But neither of you was serious until you took a test.

Positive.

"Okay, that is only a little plastic, the doctor needs to confirm." he would say and the next day you would be at the doctor's.

And the doctor did confirm, you were indeed 3 weeks into your first pregnancy.

You two sat in the car after the visit in silence.

Your mind was empty yet is was filled with thoughts.

"Let's grab something to eat before we go home." he would finally speak, making you look at him, you smiled when you saw the happiness in his eyes.

All your worries were gone because you knew you two can do this.

Oscar Piastri

To say that your pregnancy was a shock would be an understatement.

Both of you stared at the result for hours in silence.

Then, you finally spoke up. "Well, at least now we know I don't actually hate you."

He would laugh. He would laugh so hard that tears would fill his eyes.

You and your baby will be in good hands. Oscar would be the best father ever.

Carlos Sainz

You were on a vacation in Spain when you started to feel sick. You thought it would pass but Carlos insisted on visiting a doctor. This is when the news of your pregnancy hit you.

You didn't speak much Spanish, but that word, you understood.

Almost like a truck, it knocked all air out of your lungs.

When the doctor left, you turned to Carlos.

"Looks like we will have a little one running around soon." he spoke as he laughed but tears also left his eyes. "I'm so happy." he said, finally calming you down.

Charles Leclerc

After getting Leo, you didn't even talk about babies anymore. You were happy where you were in that moment.

But of course, the universe and a heated night had different ideas.

Your pregnancy was confirmed by the doctor and now you just needed to tell Charles.

You travelled to his upcoming race and had a plan.

But that plan all went out the window the moment he finished first.

Suddenly you completely forgot about everything and everyone as he hugged you close and you told him.

"Now our baby can say their father is number one!" you didn't even realise what you said.

"You're pregnant," he said and you nodded, crying from happiness. "PREGNANT!" he yelled as suddenly the trophy in his hand wasn't the most important thing.

[thelostconsultant]

Double surprise

pairing: Lando Norris x reader

summary: Lando wants to surprise you, but in the end you surprise him too.

Lando could tell Max was already planning to bang his head against the coffee table, but it honestly wasn't his fault. Maybe he was terrible at making decisions at the moment, yes, so what? It's not like he had anywhere to rush at this time, and if he was a true friend, he would stay to provide emotional support.

Because Lando was preparing for something big, and the first step was asking a jewelry store employee to jump in the hotel he was staying in with a bunch of engagement rings. If he showed up in the store himself, social media would be full of pictures within a matter of minutes. He didn't want to ruin the surprise. And it was also much more comfortable this way.

“Lando, just pick the third one. You said it yourself, that's her style,” Max tried.

With a thoughtful hum, the Brit picked up the said piece and took a better look at it. “Yeah, it's true, but,” he began, then came to a halt as he grabbed the last one the jeweler showed him. “I don’t know, the first one is a classic, but what if she prefers something modern and trendy?”

The jeweler watched him in silence, the patience of a saint radiating from his smile. He had been there for two hours now, it was already nine in the evening, but he not once made a comment about still being there. “Which one is closer to what she usually wears?” he asked softly, trying to guide him towards a decision.

Lando thought for a moment. “The classic one,” he replied while he took a closer look at it again.

One big, round white diamond with two smaller stones on its side, completed by a yellow gold band. It was clean. Nice. Something simply elegant for her. But then he glanced over at the other one and saw the curved white gold band with a big, pear shaped yellow diamond, and a voice in his head told him that was the one. People would go insane over it when you shared it on social media.

He looked up at the jeweler with a thankful smile, then turned to Max. “All right, I'm buying both. She'll get the trendy one, but if she doesn't like it, all I'll have to do is pull out the classic option. She can even wear whichever she prefers depending on the day,” he explained his master plan.

Max let out a sigh of relief and mouthed ‘finally’ under his breath, while the jeweler clapped his hands together and closed the box with the rest of the rings. Meanwhile Lando had a huge grin on his face, clearly satisfied with his decision. He solved the problem. Sure, it took two hours, but he wanted to pick the perfect ring for you.

Since he specifically asked for rings already available in your size–which he only knew because he stole one you wore on that finger–he kept the chosen ones and said goodbye to the jeweler after paying for the items. Once they were left alone, Max picked up the rings and took a closer look at them, carefully examining every centimeter, every curve, and every stone. As if he was waiting for approval, Lando raised an eyebrow at him.

“Good choice if you ask me. Seeing her disappointed in your taste wouldn't make you feel good, even if she said yes,” Max said with a short laugh before putting down the jewels.

Rolling his eyes, Lando stretched his arms above his head and fought back a yawn. Media day always took a lot out of him and today wasn't any different. Add the stress of making the right decision and he felt like a truck had hit him. “Thanks, mate,” he told his friend.

“When will you ask her?”

“She arrives tomorrow, so I guess I'll get it over with as soon as I can. I need an extra boost for qualifying,” he added with a laugh.

Max gave him a ‘good luck out-qualifying me’ look, but Lando was too hyped to notice. So he let out a sigh and decided to voice his only concern. “So you want to get this over with? Sounds romantic.”

“You know what I mean,” Lando said defensively, giving him a disappointed look that was mixed with the hurt feeling because he dared to joke about him not being serious enough about it.

“Well, tell me how it went.” Max patted his friend on the shoulder before standing up, then watched him with a small smile. “But I'm proud of you. She's nice and has a good influence on you… You chose wisely.”

“Thanks. See you tomorrow at the track?”

Max nodded, then he raised his hand to wave him goodbye and left the hotel room. This left Lando alone with his thoughts, and he began to wonder if he would succeed. The two of you had been going through a bit of a rough patch lately, and he told you this trip was all about fixing that. You would join him for the race weekend, then you would stay in the area for a little trip, just the two of you, away from curious eyes.

His mother told him this plan of his might backfire, because you weren't entirely pleased with him right now, and who knew, maybe you would consider this a way to force you to stay in this relationship. He obviously didn't want you to feel that way, but he didn't want you to leave him either.

His phone buzzed next to him, and when he took a look at it, a wide smile grew on his face. “Hello, beautiful,” he answered happily.

“Hey, you have a moment?” you asked him hesitantly.

“For you? Always.”

There was a short pause, he could hear the traffic in the background, but before he could ask you where you were, you took a deep breath and began to talk. “So I said I'm gonna arrive tomorrow, but I won't.”

Lando felt like he was stabbed in the heart, like the air had been knocked out of his lungs. “What do you mean you won't? You promised to come here, you can't just back out of it! Unless it's a family emergency. Is it a family emergency?” he asked, barely able to hide the anger that latched onto his voice.

You remained silent for a while and he silently cursed under his breath. How could you do this to him? You had agreed you would join him two months ago, there's no way you couldn't plan that much ahead back then. But then you let out a laugh, one of those adorable laughs he loved so much, and his anger disappeared at once.

“I'll send you an address. Get in the car and meet me there,” you told him.

“I'll be at the track all day and you arrive in the morning, don't tell me you won't–”

You cleared your throat to interrupt him. “I was talking about now, you muppet. Or are you about to sleep?” you asked him teasingly.

Lando huffed and rolled his eyes. But then it struck him, you were talking about now, you were talking about him driving to that mysterious location, which meant… “Wait, you're already here?” he asked you.

“Just meet me. There's something I need to tell you.”

And with that you ended the call. He didn't have the brain capacity to stop you, and it didn't occur to him that he could have called you back. Instead he stood there, staring at the screen of his phone until the notification popped up. He put the address in the search bar and checked the map. It was close, only a fifteen minutes drive from his hotel.

Without hesitation, he grabbed his keys and headed to where you were apparently waiting for him. He was already standing in front of the elevator when he realized he left the rings in his room, and he didn't want to leave without them. So he ran back and picked up the two boxes, putting them safely in his pocket.

After a car ride that seemed painfully slow, he finally arrived at his destination. According to your message, you were right here, but when he looked up, he noticed it was a private clinic. Hoping this was the right address, he went closer to the door and it opened right away, so he went inside and tried to figure out where to go next. This place was huge, and at this time it felt like he was in The Walking Dead.

“Mr. Norris? Please, follow me,” a woman in her thirties told him with a polite smile, gesturing towards the elevator.

“Where are we going?” he asked when the door closed behind them.

The woman only watched him with a mysterious smile, probably perfectly aware of what was happening, but she didn't say a word. She probably promised to keep your secret, which was nice, but also extremely annoying. Why in a clinic? Did something happen to you? But you sounded happy, surely everything was okay.

Before they stopped, the woman handed him an eye mask and asked him to put it on. At this point he didn't dare to ask questions, so he did as he was told and followed her guidance after the elevator came to a halt. After she made him stop, he heard a door open and he was soon pushed ahead to enter.

He waited. Someone would hopefully come over to tell him what this was all about, and until then he decided to remain silent. And then he felt soft fingers trace his cheek, only to find the edge of the mask and slowly pull it off his head. There you were, happy and in one piece. With a smile, he was quick to pull you into a hug.

“I missed you,” he whispered as he kissed your head then buried his face into the crook of your neck. “What are you doing here? Or rather, what are we doing here in a clinic?”

“I have a surprise for you,” you purred into his ear, and he could feel your nails scratch the skin on the back of his neck as you spoke. It felt nice. He missed this.

For the first time, he took a look around the ultrasound room, and when he noticed the posters on the walls, his suspicion began to grow. “Wait a second,” he began as he took a step back and looked you in the eye. “Are you…?” He pointed at your abdomen with a raised eyebrow.

With a laugh, you took his hand. “I am. Eight weeks in,” you informed him.

For a while he was staring at you with a dumbfounded look on his face, but then he stepped closer to pull you into a passionate kiss. What started out as something serious soon turned into a series of giggles from the both of you. Lando was the one who pulled away, suddenly remembering something.

He excused himself and stepped outside for long enough to find the main ring’s box in his pocket, then returned with his hands held behind his back. There was no plan, at least not for these circumstances, so he had no choice but to improvise. You looked confused and he had to flash a smile at you to let you know it was okay.

“I… You know… Damn it. Okay, so there was a plan, I promise, but you didn't really leave me a choice. Pick a hand.”

“What?” you asked with a confused look.

“Choose a hand. Left or right?”

You let out a thoughtful hum, visibly thinking about the answer. Then you flashed a wide grin at him and said, “Right.”

It was in his left hand, but nevermind, he grabbed the box with his right one and held it out for you. “This is yours,” he said nervously.

The shocked look on your face made him worry, but it slowly melted away as you slowly opened the box and saw the ring inside. You took it out to take a better look at the piece of jewelry, and soon a smile grew on your face before you finally turned to him.

“What do you say?” Lando asked.

“You didn't ask me anything.”

With a roll of his eyes, he reached out to take the ring and took your hand as well. “Will you marry me?” You nodded without hesitation, tears already forming in your eyes, and he quickly put the ring on your finger before you could change your mind. He kissed you again, but he could tell you were looking at your new ring behind his back. “You like it?” he asked once he pulled away and took a look at it as well.

You nodded. “It's beautiful.”

Lando reached into his pocket for the other box, and showed you his plan B. “If you'd prefer something classic, here's this one too,” he explained.

“You're insane. One ring is more than enough,” you told him with a laugh.

“Well, I know how many shoes you have, this can't be any different.”

With a playful laugh, you slapped his arm. “An engagement ring is different, trust me,” you said as you leaned closer. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He looked around and motioned towards the machine in the corner. “So… Are we here so I can take a look at my child?”

You nodded and went out to ask the doctor to come in. Meanwhile Lando couldn't help but think about how much organizing it must have taken to get this ready, but he was honestly grateful, because it was a big surprise. A big and amazing surprise. This was one of the reasons why he loved you so much, and all he wanted was to make your life as good as he could in return.

[norrizzandpia]

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

Kissess

Is it mentally ill for me to love this trope?

What Died Didn’t Stay Dead (LN4)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

��

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lando.” He said, his voice breaking.

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

Beloved.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

Now was his time.

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

And they were meant to happen.

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗟𝗢𝗢𝗞 𝗔𝗧 𝗛𝗘𝗥 max verstappen x reader (fluff) “. . . while on a drive, lando's car breaks down and you're the best mechanic in town.”

( my master list | more of lando norris ) ( requests | taglist )

"Now my phone's dead too." Lando scoffed throwing his phone on the leather seat. He's been standing at the side of the blue carbon covered £380,00+ car for the past 20 minutes. He was in the middle of utterly no where, with no cars passing by ( the people that did stop, happen to not speak English nor Flemish Dutch for that matter yes lando tried speaking dutch to italians ).

What a lucky day.

And it was about to get a lot luckier when another car passing by stopped after Norris waved over. "I need help, with the car." He tried saying slowly, switching to Dutch to try his chances.

"I can . . . I can help push it? to uh . . . car doctor?" "Yes, car doctor, that would be great. Thank you." And so after about 2 hours of hard work, the two men ( well one man, one boy lando small ) arrived at a town where several other men came and helped Lando to the mechanics shop.

"Ask kiku. Uhhh . . . Kiku help with car. Very good."

Lando made sure to thank everyone before they left, going through the door. "Un momento per favore." [one moment please]. A female voice shouted through the garage, she was laying on a skateboard rolled under a car.

"Matteo!" she shouted again startling Lando. "Matteo. Porta qui il tuo culo e aiuta quel dannato uomo." [Matteo. Get your ass over here and help the god damn man]. 'Matteo' seemed to have either passed out and taken a nap or walked out. "marcire All 'inferno . . . Cosa c'è che non va nella tua auto?" [rot in hell . . . what's wrong with your car] You asked giving up on finding your co worker.

"I'm sorry?" Lando asked again feeling nervous in this situation, making you pause your tweaking. You rolled from under the car, looking at the British driver. "There shouldn't be anything wrong with your car." You spoke in English, fluently, rolling back under and continuing with the wrench.

"You didn't even take a look at my car-" He was stuttering. Lando was surprised and shocked. It's not everyday you run into a hot Italian women, that can fix cars and speaks English like she's from Chicago or Milton.

"What did you do to it. Were you racing with it? Drifting? Rallying? Or did you completely destroyed it, cause I don't have any carbon fiber or fancy doors and steering wheels."

"No." He replied to all of your questions. "Then it's fine. There's a gas station two roads south from here-" "You don't even know what the model of the car is." He argued, not believing you.

"You're Lando Norris, aren't you? its a 765LT Spider, McLaren." You answered with no hesitation, making the boy zip his mouth. "What do you want, Mr. Norris?" You asked again getting annoyed.

"I was told to look for, uh, Kiku was it?" He said unsurely. You sighed, grumbling a few Italian cuss words under your breath as you finished your current task. Rolling out, you stood up, lifting your tank top and wiping your face dry from the sweat, which in turn smudged some grease on your face.

Fuck not being attracted to Italian female mechanics, you were hot. Very attractive in Lando's eyes.

"I'm Kiku." You told him, handing him the greasy wrench. It was a stupid nickname a few friends gave you as a joke, and it stuck. You looked out at his car hand on your hip as you examined it. "Can you turn it on?" You asked as you approached it, ready to open the back trunk and check the engine.

Lando looked grossed out at the wrench, setting it on a random surface as he unlocked the truck. You examined the car for the next 15 minutes. "I can give it back tomorrow. It's not a big problem. Like I said, you're just out of gas."

"But the measure doesn't say that. And If it's just out of gas, shouldn't you be able to give it back today?" "Yeah. That's the problem, your fuel sender is lying to you and I have to change it." You patted his back, moving back into your garage.

"But I can't stay here forever." "What's wrong with this place?" You asked frowning, looking him in the eye. Lando was going to open his mouth before he closed it quickly. "Nothing I just don't-" why was he rushing? He didn't have places to be at the moment. ". . . I don't have a place to stay?" He answered, more like asked from how unsure of himself he was.

You looked at him for a few seconds. "You can wait over there, just don't touch anything." You told him sighing, nodding towards a few chairs near your office.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"I'm not getting in." Lando refused, looking at your green car. Well it wasn't any green car. It was a classic, a Ferrari 250 gte. Highlight Ferrari. "Yeah, I'm definitely not getting it."

"Suit yourself, the coyotes here would not pass on eating you alive." You joked, not even sure if there were coyotes. "It's not everyday you get to eat a formula one driver, especially a British McLaren driver named Norris." Yea that statement did it for Lando, quickly getting in the car and closing the door after him.

"Good boy." You humed, not really thinking about it as you pulled out the driveway and made your way home. Lando could feel his face redden, hearing your praise, crossing his arms and huffing.

When you arrived at your house, the McLaren diver was quick to jump out first. "Think fast." Lando turned around, quickly catching the keys you tossed. He dropped them once he saw the yellow and black logo with a yelp.

You were laughing at him, moving to his side and picking up the keys, moving towards the house. "casa mia è casa tua." you told him as soon as you unlocked the door. Landor entered after you, copying you as you took your shoes off. The first thing the British driver felt was warmth, your space was giving him solace. This place felt like home.

"You can look around, I'm not going to take long in the shower." You set your bag down on the floor near the couch, making your way to the bathroom. Land did look around, he felt curious. You clearly knew him but he knew so little about you. While scouting for information he found your collection of music discs.

When finally came out fresh, Lando was quick to ask you about a few pictures he found. You two were quickly becoming close with one another. Sharing stories and jokes.

"What about this one?" Lando pointed to one on the grand piano. "Oh yea, I can totally see the picture, Mr. Norris." You chuckled. You were busy with your hands, making dinner for both of you ( you usually ordered out but it world be rude to do that with a guest around so you were putting your heart out in the spaghetti you wee making from scratch, something you knew would impress the McLaren driver ).

Lando picked up the photo frame walking over to you. "Why do you keep calling me by my last name? I have a first name, or did you forget." He chuckled looking at you. "Cause your first name sounds like London." You teased joking. It was out of respect, you did not want to get on his bad side, and it did sound like London just a bit.

Lando smiled laughing. "Well, I'd rather you call me by my first name." "Of course, Mr. Norris." You teased, leaning your forearms on the counter, flicking some flower on his face. He only held up the photo in return. "Oh, I remember this." You hummed, wiping your hand in a towel, taking the photo.

"It was before the last race for the European karting championship. I think I was . . . eleven in that picture?" Lando moved beside you looking down at it. You were in your kart, with your helmet on holding a thumbs up.

You took a moment looking at the photo, your father was sitting beside you on the floor, delivering the kart it's last few tweaks before the race. "You karted?" Lando asked, ruining the moment.

"No." You sarcastically replied, pushing the picture on his chest. "I flew planes at the age of two." You rolled your eyes. "Did you win?" "Hell yeah, I did. Do I look like some weak ass sissy?" You replied laughing. "That championship was mine. I Literally beat up Albon and Leclerc. "

"Really?" He was interested, leaning forward to listen closely. "What else did you race in?" "Just that really." You shrugged smiling. "Other than the karting track a few blocks down." "There's a karting track a few blocks down?" You looked at him blinking quietly. "I think answered your question before you answered it."

The boy looked away chuckling nervously. "Right." "I can drop you off tomorrow morning while I fix your car." You offered as you gently cooked the chicken alfredo. "Really?" You looked back at him deadpanning. "I mean, I'd enjoy that. Thank you."

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Hey, I never got to ask, why didn't you continue with racing? You won the championship after all. We could've been competing in f1 together." The sun had already risen again and Lando was unwillingly sitting in your car as you drove through the town. "Not everyone is high born, Norris." You sighed, shrugging. "It's my cannon event. Besides, I'm happy like this."

After finally fixing the lying fuel measure, you drove the McLaren to the karting track, honking the horn to get the attention of the race car driver.

Turning back from the fence, Lando smiled upon seeing you lean on the blue carbon in the car park. "You fixed her!" "Of course I did." You chuckled, tossing him his keys once he was close enough. "You're free to go Mr. Norris." You chuckled getting off the McLaren and patting his back. "I don't need to leave just yet . . . by the way do you have plans next week?" "Why what are you up to."

lando.jpg

lando.jpg lesson learned, always carry a portable car mechanic with you

alex_albon ease my heart and tell me thats not who i think it is ↳ youruser long time no see alex ↳ alex_albon THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPLES YOU ↳ user 💀

charles_leclerc omg ew, kart theif ↳ youruser you're ew, you took my kart first! ↳ charles_leclerc it was a good kart ↳ alex_albon your only win ↳ charles_leclerc THATS MEAN

user who's that ↳ maxverstappen1 a nightmare ↳ youruser hey max ↳ maxverstappen1 BEGONE DEMON

[nayziiz]

One Night in Miami | LN4

Summary: An eventful night with a close friend turns Lando’s world upside down when he’s forced to confront his true feelings about her. As they return to normal, he cannot seem to forget their time together and neither can she. Will they find each other once again?

Pairing: Lando Norris x OC (Renn)

Warnings: Smut, a lot of angst, fluff

Author's note: A little context around this series, if I may. I started writing this on 24/04/24, before Lando's Miami win. All the fours in the date - IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN A SIGN, is all I'm saying. Anyway, as always, please send through your feedback, suggestions, or requests!

Masterlist

CHAPTER 1 - Miami 2023

Lando had invited all of his closest friends and the Quadrant team out to Miami for the Miami Grand Prix. The city buzzed with anticipation, the atmosphere electric with the excitement of the upcoming race. The streets were alive with the hum of engines and the vibrant energy of fans from all over the world.

For Lando and his friends, it was more than just a race. It was a week of fun, filming content, and partying until the sun rose over the glistening Miami skyline. Amongst the attendees was Pietra’s best friend, Renn. When Pietra moved to London, Renn was the first person she met and they instantly became good friends. It was a natural introduction to Max, Pietra’s boyfriend, and then Lando, Max’s best friend. Lando and Renn were quite literally cut from the same cloth in terms of their humour and banter. There was natural chemistry from the get-go between them.

The sun was setting over Miami as the group gathered at a beachfront bar, the warm breeze carrying the sound of laughter and music. Lando, with his infectious grin, was in the centre of it all, regaling everyone with stories and jokes. Renn, standing beside him, matched his energy effortlessly, their banter a seamless dance that had everyone in stitches.

“Remember that time we tried to film that prank video and ended up getting chased by security?” Lando said, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“How could I forget? I still have a scar on my knee from hiding in that hedge!” Renn laughed, shaking her head. Pietra, sitting nearby with Max, watched the exchange with a knowing smile.

“You two are a dangerous combination,” she said, raising her glass in a mock toast. “But I have to admit, it’s entertaining.”

The days in Miami were a blur of excitement. The group spent their mornings filming content for their respective channels, capturing the essence of the city and the thrill of the Grand Prix. They interviewed drivers, explored the paddock, and even managed to get a few laps in on the track.

In the afternoons, they lounged by the pool or explored Miami’s vibrant neighbourhoods, soaking in the culture and cuisine. Renn and Lando often found themselves paired up, whether it was trying out the latest food trucks or challenging each other to a game of beach volleyball. The week culminated with the much-anticipated Miami Grand Prix. However, the race did not go according to plan for Lando or McLaren. Technical issues plagued the car, and despite his best efforts, Lando couldn’t climb the ranks. He finished far lower than he had hoped, and the frustration was evident as he stepped out of the car.

In the garage, Lando was a mix of frustration and devastation. His usually bright demeanour was clouded with disappointment. Renn, always the one to lighten the mood, tried to joke around, but Lando was not feeling it. Sensing his need for support, she shifted from humour to empathy, offering a listening ear and comforting presence.

Throughout the afternoon and early evening, they had a few moments alone. Lando vented to her about his frustrations with the car, his feeling of inadequacy as a driver, and the pressure he felt to perform. Renn listened intently, offering small touches on his arm, reassuring words, and a calm presence.

Deciding to forget the entire race weekend and write it off as one to learn from and move past, Lando and the group decided to go out clubbing. The vibrant Miami nightlife beckoned, promising an escape from the day’s frustrations. The city’s pulsating energy was the perfect antidote to their subdued spirits. They headed to one of Miami’s hottest clubs, a place known for its electric atmosphere and celebrity sightings. As they entered, the thumping bass of the music enveloped them, and the flashing lights painted the scene in vibrant colours. Lando led the way, determined to let loose and shake off the negativity of the race.

On the dance floor, the group immersed themselves in the music, moving to the rhythm and letting the beat drive away their worries. Lando and Renn danced together, their chemistry undeniable as they laughed and moved in sync. For a while, the frustrations of the day melted away, replaced by the sheer joy of the moment. At the bar, they ordered rounds of exotic cocktails, toasting to friendship and resilience. Lando, his spirits lifted by the music and the company, found himself smiling and laughing more freely. Renn stayed close, her presence a steady source of comfort.

Later, as the night deepened and the club continued to buzz with life, Lando and Renn found themselves on the rooftop terrace, looking out over the city. The Miami skyline was a breathtaking sight, a sea of lights stretching out into the horizon.

“I needed this,” Lando admitted, leaning on the railing. “Just to forget about today, even if it’s just for a little while.”

“We all need to let go sometimes. You’ll come back stronger, Lando. I know it,” Renn nodded, her gaze fixed on the distant lights.

Despite her reassurance, the disappointment in his race result lingered. Lando couldn't shake the frustration gnawing at the back of his mind. As the group continued to revel in the club’s intoxicating atmosphere, one drink led to the next and the next. The flashing lights and pulsing music blurred together, creating a haze that Lando eagerly embraced, hoping to drown out the nagging sense of failure.

Renn stayed by his side, matching him drink for drink, her laughter and energy unwavering. She knew he was still struggling and wanted to be there for him, even if it meant getting a little too drunk herself. Their friends cheered them on, oblivious to the deeper emotions at play. At some point, the decision to leave was made - perhaps unspoken but mutually understood. They stumbled out of the club, giggling and leaning on each other for support. The cool night air hit them, a stark contrast to the club’s warm, enclosed chaos. They ordered an Uber, collapsing into the backseat in a fit of laughter, still trying to keep the party going.

As the car sped through Miami’s neon-lit streets, the city’s energy seemed to pulse in time with their still-racing hearts. They exchanged slurred stories and jokes, but beneath the surface, Renn could see the tension in Lando’s eyes. The alcohol had numbed the sharp edge of his disappointment but hadn’t erased it. When they reached the hotel, they managed to navigate the lobby with a mix of stealth and stumbling, trying to keep their giggles under control. Renn’s hand was a steadying presence on Lando’s arm, guiding him towards the elevator and up to his room.

Inside, the room was dark and quiet, a stark contrast to the vibrant noise they had left behind. Renn flicked on a lamp, casting a soft, warm glow across the room. Lando collapsed onto the edge of the bed, his shoulders slumping as the weight of the day settled back onto him. The party, the drinks, and the laughter had been a temporary reprieve, but now reality crept back in. Renn watched him closely, her own drunken haze giving way to concern. She could see he was still not himself, the disappointment etched in his features despite his attempts to mask it.

“Lan,” she said softly, sitting beside him and placing a hand on his back. “You don’t have to hold it all in.”

He looked at her, his eyes tired and a bit glassy from the alcohol.

“I just... I wanted this weekend to be different,” he admitted, his voice cracking slightly. “I feel like I let everyone down.”

“You didn’t let anyone down. Things just didn’t go as planned. It happens. But it doesn’t define who you are or what you can do,” She shook her head, her hand rubbing gentle circles on his back.

“I know that, but it’s hard not to feel like I’m not good enough sometimes,” Lando sighed deeply, his gaze dropping to the floor.

“You are more than good enough. One bad race doesn’t change that. You’ve got so many people who believe in you, who see how incredible you are,” Renn moved closer, her hand shifting to hold his.

She leaned her head against his shoulder, the closeness providing comfort to them both. For a moment, they sat in silence, the room’s quietude enveloping them. The world outside continued its frenetic pace, but in this small bubble, they found solace in each other’s presence. The alcohol’s numbing effect was beginning to wane, but the warmth of Renn’s words and touch remained, helping to ease Lando’s troubled mind.

“Are you going to be okay tonight?” she asked, her voice soft with worry. Lando sighed, the weight of his emotions evident in his response. 

“No,” he admitted, his voice tinged with vulnerability. “Not at all.”

Renn’s heart ached for him.

“Should I stay with you until you fall asleep?” she offered gently. He looked up at her, a flicker of gratitude in his eyes.

“I’d like that,” Lando conceded.

The next moments were a blur of movement and quiet coordination. Lando stripped off his shirt, the sight of his toned torso briefly catching Renn’s attention. He then grabbed his sleep trunks and disappeared into the bathroom to change. Meanwhile, Renn began discarding the thousands of pillows that adorned the bed, creating a comfortable space for them to settle in. When Lando returned, he held out one of his shirts for her.

“Here, you can change out of that,” he said, gesturing to her sequined dress that shimmered under the soft light.

“Thanks,” she replied, taking the shirt with a grateful smile.

Renn went into the bathroom to change into the cool cotton shirt, a welcome relief from the constricting dress. It smelled faintly of him, a comforting blend of cologne and something uniquely Lando. When she emerged, she found Lando already in bed, looking slightly more at ease in his sleep trunks.

She slid into bed beside him, the mattress dipping slightly under her weight. Without hesitation, Lando moved closer, laying on top of her, his head resting on her chest. The proximity was intimate, yet felt completely natural. She began brushing his hair back, twirling his curls between her fingers in a soothing rhythm.

They stayed like that for a while, the silence between them comfortable and warm. Renn’s touch seemed to calm Lando, his breathing slowing as he relaxed against her. She could feel the tension leaving his body, replaced by a soft, sleepy tranquillity. Eventually, Lando looked up at her, his eyes meeting hers with a vulnerable intensity. Without a word, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, a gentle, heartfelt kiss that conveyed all the emotions he couldn’t put into words. Renn kissed him back, her fingers still tangled in his hair, her heart swelling with a mix of tenderness and affection. When they finally pulled apart, Lando rested his forehead against hers.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. Renn smiled, her hand caressing his cheek.

“Always,” she replied softly.

As the minutes passed, their quiet touching took on a different quality. It was still gentle, but there was an undercurrent of something deeper, something more intense. Lando’s hand began to move, tracing slow, deliberate paths up and down her side. His fingers grazed her ribs, slipped under the hem of the shirt she wore, and rested on the smooth skin of her hip.

Renn’s breath hitched slightly, her heart beating faster in response. She continued to twirl his curls, her other hand drifting to his back, where she traced light patterns with her fingertips. The tension between them grew, an unspoken understanding passing through their shared glances and touches.

Lando’s hand ventured further, moving up her inner thigh and over her underwear, pausing briefly at her hip bone before slipping under the shirt yet again. The sensation sent a shiver through Renn, her body reacting to his touch. She looked down at him, their eyes locking in a moment of mutual recognition. His fingers continued their exploration, brushing against the sensitive skin just below her ribs. Renn’s hand stilled in his hair, her breath catching as his touch sent sparks of sensation through her. The room seemed to grow warmer, the air thick with the tension building between them.

Slowly, Lando shifted, lifting himself slightly to look into her eyes. His gaze was intense, filled with a mix of vulnerability and desire. He leaned in, their lips meeting in a kiss that started soft but quickly deepened, fueled by the emotions they had been holding back. Renn responded eagerly, her hands sliding down his back, pulling him closer. Their kisses grew more urgent, a silent communication of their need for each other. Lando’s hands roamed under the shirt, finding the curves of her body and memorising every inch with his touch.

With a gentle but insistent tug, Lando pulled the shirt up and over her head, discarding it to the side. He paused to take in the sight of her, his eyes filled with admiration and desire. Renn reached up, cupping his face and pulling him back down for another deep, passionate kiss. While their kisses intensified, Lando’s hands continued their exploration, his touch sending waves of pleasure through Renn. She arched into him, her body responding to his every movement. His mouth left hers, trailing kisses down her neck and across her collarbone, each touch igniting a new flame of sensation.

Renn’s hands were not idle either. She traced the lines of his muscles, her fingers memorising the feel of him. She slid her hands under the waistband of his sleep trunks, encouraging him to shed the last barrier between them. Lando complied, kicking off his trunks and returning his attention to her. She pushed her panties to the side before he pushed his tip through her folds. He moved slowly as he entered her, savouring each moment of contact. Their bodies pressed together, skin against skin, the warmth and closeness intensifying their connection.

The intensity between them surged, and suddenly they were fucking like prisoners who had just been released after a ten-year sentence. Their movements were frantic, fueled by a desperate need to feel each other fully. There was no room for hesitation; only raw, unfiltered desire. Lando's hands gripped her hips tightly as he thrust into her with a fervour that spoke of all the emotions he had bottled up throughout the day. Renn matched his intensity, her nails digging into his back as she arched against him, meeting each of his powerful thrusts with equal force.

Their breaths came in ragged gasps, the sound of their bodies colliding filling the room. The bed creaked under the strain of their passion, but they paid no mind. Every touch, every kiss was a release, a cathartic expression of everything they felt for each other. Lando's mouth found hers again, their kisses bruising and desperate. He moved faster, deeper, their shared rhythm driving them both to the edge. Renn cried out his name, her voice a mixture of pleasure and urgency, urging him on.

The tension built to a breaking point, their bodies trembling with the force of their connection. They came together in a shattering climax, their cries mingling as they clung to each other, riding out the waves of pleasure that crashed over them. Afterward, they lay tangled together, their bodies slick with sweat and still trembling from the intensity of their lovemaking. Lando rested his head on Renn's chest, listening to the rapid beat of her heart as their breathing slowly returned to normal. It had been the first time something like that had happened between them. Sure, they shared a few kisses every so often when he would be gone for a few weeks, but nothing like that, never full blown, passionate lovemaking.

“Fuck,” Lando moaned, the tension gone from his body. He hesitated for a moment, not wanting to break their skin-to-skin contact, but he also wanted to clean her up after cumming inside her. Renn felt his hesitation and gently cupped his face.

“It's okay,” she whispered, smiling softly, her fingers brushing over his cheek. He nodded, kissing her tenderly before reluctantly pulling away.

“I'll be right back,” he promised, slipping off the bed and heading to the bathroom.

Renn watched him go, feeling a strange mix of contentment and vulnerability. The intensity of their lovemaking had left her breathless, but she also felt a deep sense of connection with Lando that went beyond physical pleasure. Lando returned with a warm, damp cloth and a look of tender concern on his face. He carefully cleaned her, his touch gentle and reverent. It was a quiet, intimate moment that spoke of his care and respect for her.

Once he was done, he discarded the cloth and slid back into bed beside her, pulling her close. They lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the silence between them filled with unspoken emotions. The disappointment of the day was a distant memory, replaced by the warmth they had found in each other's arms.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Aftermath || LN4 {9}

Pairing: Lando Norris x widow!reader Summary: Lando risks upsetting the FIA to give you the memorial they denied a year ago. Warnings: 18+ only, alcohol, fluff, tearful Lando 🥺 WC: 2k

F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten || Eleven || Twelve || Thirteen || Epilogue

“Ride with us!”

You frowned down at Lando’s grinning face from the balcony above the garage thinking you had heard him wrong. “What?”

He pointed to the grid where the trailer for the parade was hooked up and waiting. “You too, maman.”

Maria squeezed your arm with a smile as she turned towards the stairs. “Let’s not keep them waiting.”

Lando met you at the bottom, his arm curling around your waist as he guided you to the gate at the back while Zak walked with Maria. His lips brushed your cheek as he dipped his head to whisper, “Think something’s going on with those two?”

You smiled at the sound of Maria’s laugh and shrugged. “I don’t know, but as long as she’s happy then it’s got to be a good thing.”

Lando’s hands gripped your waist and lifted you into the back of the trailer before he leapt up to join you. It was only once you had taken hold of the rail tightly that you spared a glance around the other drivers and noticed they all carried wreaths.

“What’s that?”

Lando shrugged shyly as he stepped in behind you, one hand holding the rail with you and the other waving to the crowd. “Since you missed the memorial at home I thought maybe we could have one of our own.”

You turned away from the crowd and he dropped his waving hand to cage you between his arms as the truck began to drive down off the grid, saving you from jostling at the sudden movement.

“Won’t the FIA have a problem with that?”

“What can they do? Penalise all of us?” he laughed. “And if it’s a fine, we’re happy to pay it.”

“They’ll blame you.”

“They’ve made so many wrong conclusions, but at least they would be right this time,” he joked. “Relax, love, it’ll be fine.”

Lando went back to waving to the fans and you smiled at the ones who held up signs for René, most of them orange hearts or the French flag with his driver number in the middle. 

It wasn’t long that the smooth ride slowed and the trailer came to a stop at the barrier that had long since been replaced but you still saw the mangled metal and oil slick in your mind's eye. 

You startled a little when Lando’s hand came to rest on yours and gently pulled it free of the rail. You shook your head to clear the image and the sounds of the track returned along with Lando’s calm voice as he murmured encouraging words in your ear. 

You focused on his voice as he jumped off the back of the trailer before offering his hands to catch you next. Already the other drivers had made their way off track and were placing the bouquets and wreaths along the barrier. Some whispered quiet prayers and signed the cross, while others took a moment to reflect in silence.

You drifted over to the barrier with Lando at your side and sank to your knees in the soft grass running your fingers through the blades, waiting for the crushing weight to settle into your chest. The seconds ticked by as the wind picked up, the breeze a cooling welcome touch to your skin, but still the pain never came. There was only the permanent sense of sadness that hung like a small cloud in the sky no matter how sunny the day was.

“I miss you,” you whispered as you plucked a single red rose from the bouquet Lando held. Its sweet scent reminded you of the garden you had planted with René at home and the thorns dug into your palm as your hand tightened around the stem before you laid it among the rest. “You should see your fans. There’s so much love for you here, I can feel it all around me. Your mum was right.”

The drivers started to make their way back to the trailer and Lando pressed a kiss to your forehead. “When I was waiting beside him at the altar he made me promise if anything happened to him that I would take care of you. I never got to say the words to him because the doors opened and you walked in looking like an absolute angel,” his voice was thick with emotion and he cleared his throat before placing his bouquet with the others. “You have my word, René, I swear on my life.”

He grabbed the sunglasses tucked into the collar of his hoodie, pushing them over his red eyes and you wrapped your arms around his waist as he buried his head in your neck. 

“He knows, babe,” you murmured as you rubbed his back until the small shudders of his silent sobs eased, being his strength for once. Neither of you acknowledge the damp marks on your shoulder, neither of you said a word as he looked at the flowers once more before heading back to the trailer. 

“Take as long as you need, love,” he said quietly as he went.

You stood alone absorbing the moment, basking in the love that was surrounding you as you touched the cold metal barrier and looked back at Lando to see Maria placing her hand on his shoulder with a small smile. “Watch over him, Ren. Please keep him safe, for me.”

You were drunk, and so was Lando. There was no other way to put it. Finishing third had not been expected after the car’s performance in qualifying but, by luck or miracle, the conditions had been perfect for him to set a fast pace and move up the grid. So, needless to say, you were celebrating the hell out of the accomplishment with Lando in a packed nightclub full of his supporters and team.

“I’m so proud of you, baby!” The smile hadn’t left your face since he passed the chequered flag but with all the alcohol in your system you couldn’t feel the ache of the muscles in your cheeks. You cupped his face and traced his dimples with your thumbs before kissing him and getting lost in the spur of the moment.

“I love you and I am so lucky to have you.” There was no stopping the words flowing from your mouth, you were too excited for him since it had been a while since his last podium. The pressure from his Principle to get more points could finally ease a little and he was already looking more relaxed. “I think I drank too much, the room's kind of spinning.”

Lando’s laugh was contagious as he took the glass of champagne from your hand and finished it for you with a suggestion to dance instead. It took far longer than expected to make it through the crowd to the dance floor with everyone wanting to stop and congratulate him but you were happy to take it slow seeing how happy it made him.

He eventually extracted himself from the crowd and caught up to where you had found yourself under the lights and amongst the swell of people dancing the night away. His fingers laced with yours as he drew your hands up his body before he draped them around his neck and he pulled you closer.

You didn’t even notice the hundreds of people around you when Lando started moving against you. There was nothing but him and the music that his hips moved to, and the sound of his voice as he brushed his lips below your ear.

“You are breathtakingly beautiful, love.” The song changed and you turned in Lando’s arms deciding to tease him back as you danced against him, rolling your hips to the sensual music. His hands tightened their grip, his fingers digging into your hips where they had come to rest. “We need to leave before I do something very naughty right here in front of all these people.”

You peeked over your shoulder to see his bottom lip caught between his teeth and his glazed eyes full of promise. “But this is your party.”

“So I can do what I want, and I want you.” He kissed the space where your shoulder met your neck. “You’re driving me crazy.”

You stepped out of his touch, immediately missing the warmth of his body against your back, and took his hand. A grin grew on his face when you tugged him forward and he was quick to overtake you on the way to the door, separating the crowd and keeping you tucked in behind his body like a shield.

The cool air of the night hit your lungs and a shiver rolled down your spine at the sudden drop in temperature until Lando pulled you closer and waved for a taxi. It was hardly worth putting the seat belt on for how far down the road the car was going to take you but after Lando had opened the door for you he had walked around the car and taken his seat he had tutted after seeing the belt buckle empty.

“Not on my watch, love,” he said as he reached over you and grabbed the belt. “I need you safe and sound.”

Your lips pressed into a line when you tried to hide your amusement at his protectiveness. “Yes, daddy.”

His eyes flashed to yours and he curled an eyebrow up before he started biting his bottom lip again. “What did you say?”

The taxi pulled into the hotel entrance and you didn’t wait for Lando to come and open your door. You were already walking to the room as fast as your high heels would allow while he rushed to pay for the fare.

You could hear him racing to catch up when you turned down the hall that your suite was on. A squeak escaped before you could silence it when he caught up and pinned you to the door with his body, his lips stealing the soft moan that followed.

“What. Did. You. Say?” he enunciated between each kiss as he swiped his card over the handle and opened the door.

You almost fell backwards as it suddenly swung open but Lando’s arm curled around your waist and pulled you flush against him. Your lips parted with a heady sigh as you felt his hard length begging to be freed from his jeans but he smirked and shook his head when you tried to reach for him.

“Uh-uh, I’m still waiting,” he tutted as he walked you backwards into the room and kicked the door shut behind him. “I want to hear that little quip again, love.”

You teased him with a smile as you reached behind your back for the zip that kept your dress on. “I didn’t realise you were so eager to be a father.” 

“You know that’s not what I mean,” he chuckled as he moved your hand and dragged the zip slowly down your spine. “But with you it wouldn’t be so bad.” 

“Wouldn’t be so bad?” you repeated with a cocked eyebrow and a playful smile. “I understand the ‘no rizz Norris’ now.”

The material slipped down your body and you felt Lando’s exhale warm across your neck before he kissed your racing pulse. “Do you want me to tell you how much I would love to settle down with you, start a family and grow old with you? Because I will. I want it all. With. You.”

You tilted your head to give him more access as his words and the alcohol made your head spin. All of the futures you had once thought would be with René had died with him, but they came crashing back with Lando and you could see it playing out in your head. “When were you planning on telling me this?”

He smirked as his hands trailed down your body before he grabbed your thighs and picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he made his way to the bedroom. “When you called me daddy.”

Click here for part ten.

Tagging: @yunnie-f1 @neiich @zendayabelova @stillbreathin @dr3lover @writerscurse @christianpulisic10 @alwaysclassyeagle @alexisquinnlee-bc @purplephantomwolf @lightsoutletsgo @pleasantducktimetravel @pierre-gasllllllyyyyyy @holy-macncheese-balls @belennasif @ophcelia @love4lando @ryiamarie

[willowsnook]

Whisky sprite in a wine glass please!! 💖💖

josh allen x riccardo!sister

you're mine, end of discussion

-----------------------------------------------------

Accepting your dream job was one of the best days of your life, but it came with one catch: you had to relocate to Buffalo, NY. Having lived in Australia your entire life, the move was daunting. Luckily, your brother Daniel had a good friend in Buffalo who offered to help you move in.

Daniel didn’t say much about his friend—just that his name was Josh and they’d met through work. So, you were taken by surprise when a truck full of three giant men pulled up outside your building, ready to help. “Josh” turned out to be Josh Allen, quarterback for the Buffalo Bills.

He and his teammates were a huge help moving your things, and before leaving, Josh insisted on giving you his number "just in case" you needed anything.

It turned out you did need him—quite a lot. From restaurant recommendations to navigating the healthcare system and learning the ins and outs of American football, Josh had been your go-to guy. He even invited you to a Bills game, where you spent most of the time confused about the rules. That led to a weekly ritual of Josh coming over to watch old football games or movies to educate you.

After five months, the two of you had grown close, and you'd developed feelings for him. Too scared to risk your friendship, you kept your crush to yourself. Josh was in his offseason now, meaning he had more free time to hang out, which only made your feelings harder to ignore.

"By the way," you said casually one evening as you lounged together on your couch watching a movie, "I booked our plane tickets for the Miami Grand Prix next weekend."

Josh looked over at you, confused. "You got me a ticket?"

"Well, yeah," you replied, unsure why he was surprised. "I thought you’d want to see Daniel."

A grin spread across his face. "Just figured you’d ask first."

"You spend every weekend with me, dummy, so I knew you were free."

"Are you saying I don’t have a life?" he teased.

"If the shoe fits," you shot back with a smirk, and before you knew it, Josh had launched himself over the couch to tickle you. You squealed, trying to push him off, both of you laughing until he paused, realizing the compromising position you were in. He quickly moved away, his cheeks slightly red.

"Well, I am excited to see your brother race," he finally said, and you smiled.

----------------------------------------------

Race day at the Miami Grand Prix was electric, and you were thrilled to be back in the paddock. Josh’s eyes lit up as he took in the sights, clearly fascinated by the behind-the-scenes of Formula 1.

"Y/N!" someone called out, and you were soon enveloped in a big hug from Lando Norris.

"Hi Lando," you said into his chest. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," he said grinning before looking to Josh who was just happy to be there. "Going to introduce me to your boyfriend?"

"This is my non-boyfriend Josh, Josh this is Lando," you introduced and Josh shook his hand.

"Non-boyfriend?" Lando teased in a whisper. "That’s not what the press thinks."

You rolled your eyes, well aware of the photos circulating online that speculated about you and Josh. Being Daniel Ricciardo’s sister meant you were used to media attention, but this was new territory.

Shoving Lando playfully, you glanced over to see Josh chatting with your brother, who was pulling you into a hug as soon as he noticed.

"My beautiful sister has returned!" Daniel announced loudly, causing you to bury your head in his chest in embarrassment. He didn’t stop talking, though, dragging Josh along to the RB garage while catching up with him.

Later, as you walked through the paddock, more drivers greeted you, some eyeing Josh with curiosity.

"I feel like Daniel’s not the only older brother I should be worried about," Josh muttered as you two found a quiet moment.

You laughed. "Please, you’re twice the size of all of them."

After the race, Josh wandered off to talk to another NFL player while you waited for Daniel. When he emerged from the garage, you hugged him tightly.

"Are we going to talk about how I sent him to be your friend, and now he looks at you like you’re the center of the universe?" Daniel teased, making you blush. "You know how many drivers asked if I was okay with your ‘boyfriend’?"

"I don’t even know if he likes me like that," you admitted, voice small. "He’s so nice to everyone, it’s hard to tell."

"Trust me, he does," Daniel said sighing.

"It's your fault buddy, you basically asked him to fall in love with me," you teased and Daniel groaned. Josh was waiting up ahead and you returned his big smile, thinking about what Daniel had said.

"I have to go do interviews, but I'll see you guys later tonight," Daniel said and you waved goodbye as he left.

"Hungry?" you asked Josh as you walked toward the exit.

"Starving," he replied.

Ten minutes later, you were seated across from each other at a casual burger place. As you scrolled through your phone, you asked, "Did you have fun today?"

"Yeah, it was awesome. Really cool to see how everything works behind the scenes. Do you miss going to races?"

"Sometimes," you said thoughtfully. "I’ve known a lot of the drivers for years, so I miss seeing them."

Josh nodded. "I could tell how much they care about you—especially by the way they treated me."

You giggled, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, we’re definitely not beating those ‘more than friends’ allegations."

"I don’t think I want to," he said casually, and your jaw dropped.

"What?"

His eyes twinkled with amusement. "I like you a lot, Y/N. After getting your darling brother’s blessing, I feel pretty confident saying that you’re mine. End of discussion."

"And you didn’t think to ask what I thought?" you teased, feigning outrage.

"Well, you’re with me all the time, dummy," he said, throwing your words back at you with a playful grin. "I figured you’d be okay with it."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Touché."

[bucket-of-f1]

How I Got Into F1 (the long version)

@littleblacksheep17

One of my earliest memories I have of my grandfather is sitting on his lap in the living room at three years old, watching forty or so cars rip around an oval track at 200 miles an hour.

It was the Daytona 500, and it was the coolest thing I had ever seen. I was still a few weeks out from gaining any form of meaningful consciousness, and yet my little neurons were firing on all cylinders (heh) telling me that this was exactly where I wanted to be. It was NASCAR.

WAIT, before you start throwing rocks at my head for being a dirty stock car enjoyer, let me just be very clear:

Fuck off.

Motorsport is motorsport. They all require an insane level of strength, coordination, endurance, and skill. Racing is the most raw form of sport humans can achieve, whether it’s on foot or wheels. I will not tolerate motorsport purists.

That being said, I will say that NASCAR is a very different type of racing from Formula One. Some people love it, some people don’t, and that’s okay! I don’t need you to enjoy all types of motorsport, I just don’t want to hear any negative comments about one version being worse or easier or pointless compared to another.

Anyway, NASCAR. My grandfather was a huge American motorsport fan. NHRA, Indycar, I’m pretty sure he watched CART when that was still a thing, he loved dirt oval racing, he’d watch AMA motorcross it it came on — if it was American and involved vehicles going fast, he wanted to watch it. So of course, I grew up sitting with him, watching cars go around tracks, finding out why some drivers were good and some were bad, why this car was faster than another, how engines worked, the whole thing.

My grandfather also built cars from the ground up — not just as a mechanic, he like, built his own truck with pieces he bought and took from the junkyard. It was a thing of beauty: black, sleek, it smelled good, okay I’m rambling back to motorsport.

Anyway, of course the moment my uncle found out about my love for racing, he introduced me to rally. He’s an at-home mechanic and a firefighter. He’s always loved the outdoors, and cars, and he’s a bit of an adrenaline junkie. Snowboarding, skiing, motocross, dirt buggies, mountain biking, and of course, rally — if it’s outside and just might kill him, he loves it. He likes camping and hunting and diving, he’s just probably my favorite person on the planet.

Between my uncle and my grandfather, motorsport was kind of a no brainer of an interest to pick up.

I also got really into mechanics when I was about seven years old, when an interest in WWII turned into an obsession over the technology behind airplanes and tanks and the like.

And then, the short version comes in. I’m sitting at my desk, bored, it’s lockdown, everyone’s stuck inside, and my YouTube recommends me Formula One highlights, because I’d been watching NASCAR and WRC and WEC a lot, especially when I just needed background sound (I’ll attach the video I’ve been using to fall asleep recently, it’s just the most beautiful sound ever).

So I watch the highlights, I think “this is cool” and then of course YouTube gives me clips of Verstappen and Riccardo cackling together, Norris being giggly in interviews, Hamilton and Vettel and Alonso and Kimi, the whole vacuum of F1 personality just dumped on me week one.

And of course, I fell in love.

Give it four years, a whole lot of spare time, ADHD with mild autism and OCD symptoms and oops Bucket Of F1 Facts :3

<><><>

Here's the video I use to sleep. If you're gonna try it to sleep too, start at minute 19 because there's a pit stop about 15 minutes in:

It's part of a like, 6 video series or something I think. It's a cool onboard too.

[biblioflyer]

Housekeeping & Mandalorian

It was never my intent that this blog would talk exclusively about Star Trek, indeed my one mildly viral essay is actually about Captain Marvel, but wow I am having a really tough time with The Mandalorian. I see some stuff in it worth talking about, those with an eye for the symbolic would note a lot of heavy religious and messianic symbolism in the early episodes: sacraments, baptism etc.

Which is really neat. It always thrills me to see a very thoughtful approach to cinematography in pulp. Its why I have a weird soft spot for Zack Snyder. His movies are very silly in terms of plot, but they're visually interesting from an art history point of view. I needed a little bit of emotional distance from the high water mark of the Global War on Terror, but even the aggressive patriotism and military fetishism of Michael Bay's Transformers has its moments.

But in most other respects, I'm just not feeling The Mandalorian. The metaplot and the implications of what I think is going to turn into a trinitarian power struggle between Bo, Din, and the Armorer is kind of neat. The world building that is happening on the New Republic side is....something. I'm highly supportive of trying to "do a Clone Wars" on the sequel trilogy. That is to say, remodel the trilogy by creating meaningful links to other pieces of the franchise and reframe a lot of the story and emotional beats by virtue of these connections. Its what Lucasarts did with the prequels.

Yet, I recognize that there was some intentional cognitive dissonance intended in the way that Tim Meadows' scene was filmed. The way it has all of the beats of an office comedy without the laugh track. We are probably supposed to be horrified at how callous this bureaucrat is. Intellectually that's the case, but emotionally? I just didn't feel anything. I figured out that it was going to come down to a beleaguered New Republic lacking the resources or will to help Navarro.

I wasn't quite prepared for there to not be any whiff of sentimentality on the part of the requisitions officer. I'm not really a fan of this "meet the new boss, same as the old boss" kind of approach to the New Republic. I know in both continuities, this is more or less how it turned out, but I'd still rather see some sentimentality, some despair that the New Republic has too many fires and not enough fire trucks. As it is, it just seems to be reaffirming the overall gloomy mood of the sequels that everything the heroes did had turned to ashes long before the First Order opened fire with Starkiller Base.

Then there's the set piece action sequence in "The Pirate." The liberation of Navarro should feel triumphant. But it didn't. From the moment the Mandalorians embarked on Bo's transport, I had a sense that this was going to be a turkey shoot. The Mandos were going to waltz in there and be about as menaced as Chuck Norris assaulting a preschool at nap time. And I was right. Paz Vizla aka the Heavy, even tanks a direct hit from an E-Web, goes down, but gets back to his feet again in no time. After the battle he's walking and talking without even a limp to suggest cracked ribs or anything of the sort.

This isn't even Star Wars action movie logic at this point, Luke, Leia, Han were always on the backfoot and experiencing one or more reversals per fight which is what made their triumphs more interesting. They avoid major injury for the most part, but they also are frequently stymied from achieving their goals and have to find clever ways to persevere.

I get it, these are Mandalorians. The most feared warriors in the galaxy this side of the Jedi, and they were up against a bunch of drunk and disorderly pirates. Narratively speaking, of course it should be incredibly one sided. And that's a boring narrative! If you really wanted to establish how badass these guys are when they're working together in large numbers, sure, an establishing scene would be great for that. But this was kind of silly. Every last one of them is a Captain America right down to the bad guys pouring on a hail of gunfire that never hits anywhere but his shield.

Beskar is plot armor, okay sure. But like Captain America's shield, it shouldn't be abused. It should be used to permit the heroes to do things that nobody else could, up to a point. Yet, like Captain America's shield, there has to be limits. Those limits are clearly visible on every Mandalorian's body. Its the seams in their armor, the places where they don't even wear armor.

Also the capital ship nerd in me is so despondent. This series is leaning into the same beats as Rogue One and The Last Jedi where capital ships are functionally helpless against fighters to a degree that just makes it all the more questionable why anyone would arm them and send them directly into harm's way, let alone build some that are the size of major metropolitan areas.

Am I missing something here? I can see the mold of the emotions that I think I'm supposed to be feeling, but the liquid beskar just hasn't been poured in.

Do I just need to finish Clone Wars or at least watch that Mandalorian saga playlist on Disney+?

Anyway, more Star Trek content is coming. I'm going to watch the latest episode of Picard after I post this. I'm working on some essays pertaining to S1E4 but its getting down into the weeds on some of my thinking on how the show explores different ethical perspectives and uses challenging subject matter to do so and why I think its uncomfortable for OG TNG fans, but I'm trying to exercise the right amount of care and precision when exploring tricky territory while not getting too verbose, and its not going well. What I have isn't lending itself well to chopping it up into smaller, more topical essays. I probably need to be my own harsh editor and make some tough choices about where to cut and just link out to essays that are already saying a lot of the same stuff, just a little differently.

[watching-pictures-move]

Movie Review | Red Scorpion (Zito, 1988)

This is probably most notable for being produced by right wing lobbyist and convicted felon Jack Abramoff, with funding from a think tank run by the South African apartheid government. So obviously this is gonna have some pretty bad politics, and in depicting the Angolan Civil War, it conveniently leaves out the fact that the anticommunist rebels are backed by the apartheid regime. This probably makes it more palatable to watch now and may have made it less offensive as propaganda back in the day, but is also kind of a pussy ass move when it comes down to it. You can compare this to The Wild Geese, which was also produced in South Africa under the apartheid regime, and that movie at least owns up to having no morals, outside of one bizarre scene in which an inveterate racist is cured of his hatred. (It's a guilty pleasure, please don't judge. Hilariously, both actors in the aforementioned scene took their roles because they expected a serious message movie about conflict in the African continent.)

The movie's staunch anticommunist viewpoint is conveyed not just through Soviet atrocities committed against the rebels, but foregrounded by the reporter played by M. Emmet Walsh. Now, if I were an American journalist imprisoned while reporting from behind enemy lines, I would likely not call my captors a bunch of Commie pigs right to their faces. I would also likely not go up to the guy in the corner of the cell who was twice my size and call him a piece of shit with zero provocation. One can admire in theory that he has the courage of his convictions, but one would also find it hard to believe that a character this incapable of keeping his yap shut managed to survive this long in a war zone. Of course, Walsh is always fun to watch, even if he rattles off his lines at a rate that suggests he was trying to wrap up filming ahead of schedule. He provides the bulk of comic relief: examples include his attempt to spread American values to Angola by blasting Little Richard during a truck chase, and the bemused reaction that meets one of his many tirades. "He is a very emotional man."

That line is delivered in perfect deadpan by Dolph Lundgren, who plays a Rambo-like Spetznaz officer who defects to the rebels out of the goodness of his heart. The movie takes a good deal of inspiration from the Rambo series, particularly the early jail and truck chase scenes pulled from First Blood, but I think the movie makes a good case for Lundgren's particular brand of low key charisma. While cast for his He-Man stature, Lundgren manages to convey some level of vulnerability and uncertainty, and often relies on the help of his allies. So there is a level of challenge for him in the proceedings, meaning that this works better as an action movie than earlier Joseph Zito efforts like Missing in Action, where Chuck Norris sneaks up without cover on Viet Cong who never bother to turn their heads, and Invasion U.S.A., with its endless scenes of innocent civilians being gunned down and Norris blowing away hordes of Cuban invaders with ease. While both stars are low key, you can see how Lundgren invites some empathy while Norris remains completely wooden in these films. And while Lundgren's physique brings to mind certain other stars from the decade, he one ups them in one respect. Arnie and Sly usually showed off only their torsos. Dolph wears cutoffs, baring his well sculpted gams for the entire third act.

This also has the kind of clean, sturdy action that seemed so common in the '80s but is much rarer now, and benefits from the appealingly harsh African desert milieu. And the cinematography by Joao Fernandes finds moments of unexpected artfulness, like the abstracted searchlight of a helicopter scanning sand dunes in pitch black night, or the shot of an incoming helicopter framed through a burning bush, or the messianic encirclement of Lundgren's character as he returns to the rebels for the climax.

[j2memories]

The New York Times article (August 12th 2021)

Jared Padalecki on the ‘Walker’ Finale and ‘Supernatural’

In an interview, the actor and producer talks about the season finale’s big twist and the “Supernatural” prequel that took him by surprise.

By Max Gao

Aug. 12, 2021

This interview contains spoilers for Thursday’s season finale of “Walker.”

More than a year after his wife’s murder at the U.S.-Mexico border, Cordell Walker (Jared Padalecki) returned to the scene of the crime with his family and the man responsible for pulling the final trigger: Stan Morrison (Jeffrey Nordling), the longtime Walker family friend, Texas Department of Public Safety chair and recently elected district attorney.

The twist was a secret that Padalecki — who serves as a star and executive producer of “Walker,” a modern-day reboot of the hit 1990s series that featured Chuck Norris as a high-kicking Texas Ranger — had been keeping since production on the show began last fall.

“The big difficulty for me was having to tell white lies to my friends and family and fellow cast and crew,” Padalecki said in a recent interview. “I didn’t feel good about it, but I’m learning to put that line between friend and fellow actor.”

Thursday’s season finale revealed the events leading up to the death of Emily Walker (played by Genevieve Padalecki, Jared’s real-life wife). Emily was dropping off water for migrants one night when, in a case of being at the wrong place at the wrong time, she heard a truck hit a pothole and found a group of people smuggling drugs across the border through a side road. While Cali (Katrina Begin) wounded Emily, it was Stan who, fearing the wrath of a powerful crime syndicate known as the Northside Nation, delivered the fatal blow. Stan and Cali paid off a dying man named Carlos Mendoza (Joe Perez), who agreed to confess to the crime only two days after the fact — only to be exonerated by Cordell’s sedulous search for the truth.

In a phone interview from his home in Austin, Tex., Jared Padalecki spoke about the pivotal confession scene in the finale, the evolution of his Cordell Walker, the impact of his 15-year run as Sam Winchester on “Supernatural,” and the brief online fallout from his reaction to that fantasy drama’s upcoming prequel. These are edited excerpts from the conversation.

What do you think motivated Cordell to force Stan to confess to his crimes in front of the entire Walker family?

Season 1 saw Cordell Walker still reeling from his wife’s murder and trying to put on a happy face and professional face, but really going through a lot of turmoil behind the scenes. I think he realized that the only way he could refrain from killing Stan outright was to get him to confess. Being an attorney and the D.P.S. chair, Stan knew all the loopholes and all the ways out. Walker had to set his eyes on a goal, so what was going through my head [as an actor] at the end of [Episode] 17 and all of 18 was that I just have to get this guy to say the truth and to agree to tell the truth in public.

I actually added that line on the day where I say, “Tell my family what happened.” Then, in that moment, it just occurred to me to say, “Tell Emily’s family.” [Nordling] did such a powerful job in that last scene of pulling the line between somebody who’s ashamed, but finally just ready to release the proverbial escape valve on all the pressure that’s been building up for him.

How does finally uncovering the truth about his wife’s death help Cordell to move forward?

He just needed to exhale, and he’s at a better place now. Now he realizes he needs to be there for his kids, for his parents, for his brother, for his work partners, and for himself. We’ll see in Season 2 that Walker has found some degree of closure.

How much influence did all of the stories of families being separated at the U.S.-Mexico border have on this series?

I was reading an op-ed from a law enforcement agent in Texas about how they were bound by duty and how they had to obey the law, but they just couldn’t bring themselves to put a 3-year-old in a cage. People talk all the time about how a coin has two sides. But in reality, a coin has three sides: there’s heads, tails, and the edge. So we wanted to find that edge, that gray area, and really lean into it about somebody who takes their job very seriously, who risked their life to make others’ lives safer, but also still has a deep moral code.

We developed the show before the pandemic and things came to a fever pitch between our communities and our law enforcement in different parts of the country. And America doesn’t really have a big appetite right now for tall, white, straight law-enforcement agents roundhouse kicking minorities in the face — and nor did we, so that lined up. [Laughs.] We’re more interested in these stories of a parent or a human being who find themselves stuck between a rock and a hard place.

How did you begin the transformation from Sam Winchester to Cordell Walker last year during the pandemic?

We had already been developing “Walker,” so I was able to spend some time leaning into who this character might be. And at the time, I think [the showrunner] Anna [Fricke] and the gang had already broken five or six stories. I used that time selfishly to really try and develop Cordell Walker even further, because I knew that getting the phone call to go back to Vancouver and finish “Supernatural” would come in a snap.

I did 327 episodes of that show, and that is basically 2,500 full days of filming and all the days in between of prepping and trying to figure out who Sam is, so it wasn’t difficult to get back to Sam. Frankly, knowing the last few episodes of “Supernatural,” I didn’t really want to live as Sam every day, because they were so sad. [Laughs.]

Do you still find yourself grieving the end of “Supernatural”? How did that show change your life?

We, the people who worked on and watched “Supernatural,” were all fortunate to have that time to prepare for a loss. And ultimately, the loss still was tragic and dramatic. But in another sense, “Supernatural” never really died. I still talk to [Jensen] Ackles, Misha [Collins], and the rest of the gang. I did “Supernatural” from age 22 to age 38, and I’ll never deny that my time and experiences on that show are certainly a part of who I am now. It’s still a part of me. I could film a scene as Sam Winchester right now because he lives in me, and I’m certain he always will.

I’m sitting in my office right now, and behind me is my last-ever tape mark. The last day of shooting when we shot on that bridge, which was the last shot of the series, we had our tape marks. My dear friend [the actor and stunt man] Jason Cecchini picked up the last tape marks — my red tape mark and Jensen’s blue tape mark. He put them on a call sheet and framed them, and as we all said our goodbyes, he handed them to us. I have so many reminders. The mother of my children is somebody I met on the show in Season 4, and now we have three kids! It sounds like a cop out, but because I thought about it so much, I can’t even begin to explain how much it changed me.

In June, you posted on Twitter that you were “gutted” to learn that your former co-star Jensen Ackles and his wife, Danneel, were working on a “Supernatural” prequel without your knowledge. What exactly happened that night?

I hadn’t heard of it, and then he and I chatted [the next morning]. He just kind of explained: “Man, it’s not picked up yet. It’s not even written yet.” He knows and I know how much “Supernatural” means to both of us, and it wasn’t a secret he was trying to keep, necessarily. It was just something that he didn’t feel really even existed yet. But he has been like: “Hey, I’ll let you know what’s going on.”

I love Jensen deeply. He’s my brother — he has been for many years, and he always will be, no matter what. He’s spent more time with me on camera than anybody probably ever will, so he knows my strengths and weaknesses more than I do, and vice versa. I respect his opinion.

It was just one of those things that because it was online, and people were assuming I was part of it, I really wanted to just say: “Hey, I’m not keeping a secret from you guys. I just don’t know about this.” And I should be old enough to know better than to put something out there and expect that people will understand. It’s hard to tweet a specific tone. If you write it online, it’s like, “Oh, he doesn’t know! They’re going to kill each other! The world is ending!” And I’m like, “No, no, no.” [Laughs.] I try to avoid social media as much as possible because of that.

Link to the article

[lickmeleclerc]

| Best Friend | Lando Norris Imagine

Based off the song You Are In Love by Taylor Swift in which Lando confesses you’re his best friend

“Strange look on his face

Pauses, then says

You're my best friend

And you knew what it was

He is in love”

His blue eyes matched the color of the water beneath the boat as the sun was beginning to sink into the ocean warmed them, they felt intimating watching you as you walked down the staircase leading to the stern of the boat both hands held champagne flutes filled to the top bubbling. Lando laid on his back his hands behind his head as he watched you make your descent. He’d switched out his swim trucks for a matching sweat suit as the breeze set in for the evening. His gaze made your cheeks flush hoping it would present as a sun kissed glow from the day celebrating.

“Congratulations again to us!” You laugh handing him a glass. You wrapped your cardigan around yourself covering your midsection still clad in your swimsuit from sunbathing earlier before taking a seat beside him.

“We better get a one two everyone year in Monaco if we get to celebrate like this.” He laughs before raising his glass to cheers.

“I’ll cheers to that.” You join in a light while tapping his glass before taking a drink. Both of you laugh lightly before turning your gaze to the view. Monaco was stunning, it was dream to be in a place like this, a dream to be experiencing this life.

“I’m so jealous you get to call this place home.” You speak again after a few moments of silence bringing your knees to your chest regretting not changing before coming back from below deck.

“It was definitely interesting in a good way, a good feeling of being able to wake up in my own bed for a race.” He responded taking another drink before a childish giggle escaped his mouth. The fuzzy feeling behind your eyes indicating all the champagne on the podium and celebratory acts on the yacht and now this final glass as the boat was returning to the dock has finally caught up with both of you.

“And I’ll get to nurse my hangover tomorrow at home, that’ll be nice.” He added before giggling like a school boy again. You returned a giggle not being able to control it erupting from your stomach and moved to lay on your back. Lando mocked your actions his head level with yours, shoulders touching. The laughter died out and all that was heard was the small waves crashing against each other. The lightheadedness and motion of the waves bringing a relaxing feeling to your being, a happy sigh escaped your lips. An absence of warmth against your shoulder caused you to sit up. Lando was sitting legs crossed. You match his position facing him a smile on your face before you could question his actions he placed his hand on your knee his face has changed from relaxed and the intimidating look in his eyes was now underlying with nervousness. His piercing eyes met yours again before quickly diverting back to the placement of his hand.

“You know Y/n” he paused and licked his lips his hand feeling tingly as it laid on your knee he let out a breath before finishing, the questioning look in your eyes and slight furrow of your brows urged him to continue.

“You’re my best friend.” His words were quite and confusing. Why make such a simple saying a declaration in a moment like this. Of course you’re his best friend and him yours. But as the words set in and the way his gaze fell at your silence it all seemed to make since in the haze of celebratory acts and the way he held you tightly on the podium earlier when he pulled you onto the top set next to him. How he always shared your success as his own and wanted to arrive to races together and teased you with his wittiness every chance he got. How his compliments of your appearance were played off as silly remarks. A realization hit, Lando is in love. With you.

“You’re my best friend too.”

[finaledenialist]

masterlist of w*lker reviews to brighten up your day!

‘W*lker’ review: A forgettable reboot which takes itself too seriously

“The prolific American freelance satirist and cultural critic Joe Queenan had once described the Chuck Norris-starrer Walker, Texas Ranger as a show ‘so corny and predictable that it appears to be in slow-motion even when it’s not.’ (...) Its 2021 reboot, simply titled Walker, seems no different.”

The CW's W*lker Is Just as Cheesy and Awkward as the Original W*lker, Texas Ranger

“W*lker’s political point of view may be slightly updated, but everything else about the show feels musty and stilted, completely out of place with the modern genre shows (...)  P*dalecki fits awkwardly into the role (...) W*lker’s fixation on his dead wife is manifested in gauzy, Hallmark-style visions of her watching over him and his family, giving the P*daleckis the chance to gaze longingly at each other (...)  When he tries to call her back and gets no answer, he lets out a hilariously overwrought manly wail of sorrow (...)”

‘W*lker’ Review: ‘Ranger’ Gets a Reboot 

“only the pilot was available to review and the introductory episode is hampered by the task of having to introduce everything. That said, the show’s creator, Anna Fricke, might have done this more tidily (...)  The opening moments of the first episode involve the death of W*lker’s wife under circumstances that go unexplained, as do the man’s anguished cries (...)  All this soft-spoken Texas muttering may be regionally authentic, but it doesn’t help with the details.”

and (because I am in love with how passively-aggressively Wall Street journal phrased this):

“it is suggested that he ran away at precisely the time his kids needed him. Rather than rush home to see them when he gets back from his mysterious mission, he parks his enormous pickup truck in a public park. Where he starts drinking. Only to be taken into custody by State Trooper Micki Ramirez, who, just coincidentally, is about the become a Texas Ranger and—gasp—W*lker’s partner.”

CW Reboots W*lker but Forgets to Give Him a Personality

“W*lker is very much one side of the coin, and that's one of the main problems with a show that wants to be a little progressive but can't leave behind its black-and-white origins (...) Introducing audiences to this many characters and tossing in a mystery of the week makes the premiere a little crowded, but it’s also surprisingly flat and slow in terms of pacing (...) There’s just nothing here to hold onto (...)  "W*lker" isn't the edge of the coin as much as one of those quarters that's been through the system for so long that it's lost all of its luster.”

'W*lker' Review: A Rusty Texas Ranger Reboot Led By An Awkward J*red P*dalecki (my favourite by far)

“the CW reboot is as outdated as they come but hey, at least it pretends to be serious (...) His sorrow-channelling reaction is cringey at best (...)   It all hints at an all too simple, nay, mind-numbingly basic plot (...) W*lker is a show you have watched all too many times (...) a wholly forgettable story (...) no emotional depth”

and

“P*dalecki is so awkward in his ridiculous Ranger hat, it had me wishing I could knock it right off his head by the sheer power of my will. This wayward son has “carried on” to a very bizarre destination.”

+ bonus (not a review per se, and it will probably make you angry)

‘Walker’: How Detention Of Children At U.S.-Mexico Border Served As Jumping-Off Point For CW Reboot 

[kansastexas]

Jared Padalecki on the ‘Walker’ Finale and ‘Supernatural’

In an interview, the actor and producer talks about the season finale’s big twist and the “Supernatural” prequel that took him by surprise.

This interview contains spoilers for Thursday’s season finale of “Walker.”

More than a year after his wife’s murder at the U.S.-Mexico border, Cordell Walker (Jared Padalecki) returned to the scene of the crime with his family and the man responsible for pulling the final trigger: Stan Morrison (Jeffrey Nordling), the longtime Walker family friend, Texas Department of Public Safety chair and recently elected district attorney.

The twist was a secret that Padalecki — who serves as a star and executive producer of “Walker,” a modern-day reboot of the hit 1990s series that featured Chuck Norris as a high-kicking Texas Ranger — had been keeping since production on the show began last fall.

“The big difficulty for me was having to tell white lies to my friends and family and fellow cast and crew,” Padalecki said in a recent interview. “I didn’t feel good about it, but I’m learning to put that line between friend and fellow actor.”

Thursday’s season finale revealed the events leading up to the death of Emily Walker (played by Genevieve Padalecki, Jared’s real-life wife). Emily was dropping off water for migrants one night when, in a case of being at the wrong place at the wrong time, she heard a truck hit a pothole and found a group of people smuggling drugs across the border through a side road. While Cali (Katrina Begin) wounded Emily, it was Stan who, fearing the wrath of a powerful crime syndicate known as the Northside Nation, delivered the fatal blow. Stan and Cali paid off a dying man named Carlos Mendoza (Joe Perez), who agreed to confess to the crime only two days after the fact — only to be exonerated by Cordell’s sedulous search for the truth.

In a phone interview from his home in Austin, Tex., Jared Padalecki spoke about the pivotal confession scene in the finale, the evolution of his Cordell Walker, the impact of his 15-year run as Sam Winchester on “Supernatural,” and the brief online fallout from his reaction to that fantasy drama’s upcoming prequel. These are edited excerpts from the conversation.

What do you think motivated Cordell to force Stan to confess to his crimes in front of the entire Walker family?

Season 1 saw Cordell Walker still reeling from his wife’s murder and trying to put on a happy face and professional face, but really going through a lot of turmoil behind the scenes. I think he realized that the only way he could refrain from killing Stan outright was to get him to confess. Being an attorney and the D.P.S. chair, Stan knew all the loopholes and all the ways out. Walker had to set his eyes on a goal, so what was going through my head [as an actor] at the end of [Episode] 17 and all of 18 was that I just have to get this guy to say the truth and to agree to tell the truth in public.

I actually added that line on the day where I say, “Tell my family what happened.” Then, in that moment, it just occurred to me to say, “Tell Emily’s family.” [Nordling] did such a powerful job in that last scene of pulling the line between somebody who’s ashamed, but finally just ready to release the proverbial escape valve on all the pressure that’s been building up for him.

How does finally uncovering the truth about his wife’s death help Cordell to move forward? He just needed to exhale, and he’s at a better place now. Now he realizes he needs to be there for his kids, for his parents, for his brother, for his work partners, and for himself. We’ll see in Season 2 that Walker has found some degree of closure.

How much influence did all of the stories of families being separated at the U.S.-Mexico border have on this series?

I was reading an op-ed from a law enforcement agent in Texas about how they were bound by duty and how they had to obey the law, but they just couldn’t bring themselves to put a 3-year-old in a cage. People talk all the time about how a coin has two sides. But in reality, a coin has three sides: there’s heads, tails, and the edge. So we wanted to find that edge, that gray area, and really lean into it about somebody who takes their job very seriously, who risked their life to make others’ lives safer, but also still has a deep moral code.

We developed the show before the pandemic and things came to a fever pitch between our communities and our law enforcement in different parts of the country. And America doesn’t really have a big appetite right now for tall, white, straight law-enforcement agents roundhouse kicking minorities in the face — and nor did we, so that lined up. [Laughs.] We’re more interested in these stories of a parent or a human being who find themselves stuck between a rock and a hard place.

How did you begin the transformation from Sam Winchester to Cordell Walker last year during the pandemic?

We had already been developing “Walker,” so I was able to spend some time leaning into who this character might be. And at the time, I think [the showrunner] Anna [Fricke] and the gang had already broken five or six stories. I used that time selfishly to really try and develop Cordell Walker even further, because I knew that getting the phone call to go back to Vancouver and finish “Supernatural” would come in a snap. I did 327 episodes of that show, and that is basically 2,500 full days of filming and all the days in between of prepping and trying to figure out who Sam is, so it wasn’t difficult to get back to Sam. Frankly, knowing the last few episodes of “Supernatural,” I didn’t really want to live as Sam every day, because they were so sad. [Laughs.]

Do you still find yourself grieving the end of “Supernatural”? How did that show change your life?

We, the people who worked on and watched “Supernatural,” were all fortunate to have that time to prepare for a loss. And ultimately, the loss still was tragic and dramatic. But in another sense, “Supernatural” never really died. I still talk to [Jensen] Ackles, Misha [Collins], and the rest of the gang. I did “Supernatural” from age 22 to age 38, and I’ll never deny that my time and experiences on that show are certainly a part of who I am now. It’s still a part of me. I could film a scene as Sam Winchester right now because he lives in me, and I’m certain he always will.

I’m sitting in my office right now, and behind me is my last-ever tape mark. The last day of shooting when we shot on that bridge, which was the last shot of the series, we had our tape marks. My dear friend [the actor and stunt man] Jason Cecchini picked up the last tape marks — my red tape mark and Jensen’s blue tape mark. He put them on a call sheet and framed them, and as we all said our goodbyes, he handed them to us. I have so many reminders. The mother of my children is somebody I met on the show in Season 4, and now we have three kids! It sounds like a cop out, but because I thought about it so much, I can’t even begin to explain how much it changed me.

In June, you posted on Twitter that you were “gutted” to learn that your former co-star Jensen Ackles and his wife, Danneel, were working on a “Supernatural” prequel without your knowledge. What exactly happened that night?

I hadn’t heard of it, and then he and I chatted [the next morning]. He just kind of explained: “Man, it’s not picked up yet. It’s not even written yet.” He knows and I know how much “Supernatural” means to both of us, and it wasn’t a secret he was trying to keep, necessarily. It was just something that he didn’t feel really even existed yet. But he has been like: “Hey, I’ll let you know what’s going on.”

I love Jensen deeply. He’s my brother — he has been for many years, and he always will be, no matter what. He’s spent more time with me on camera than anybody probably ever will, so he knows my strengths and weaknesses more than I do, and vice versa. I respect his opinion.

It was just one of those things that because it was online, and people were assuming I was part of it, I really wanted to just say: “Hey, I’m not keeping a secret from you guys. I just don’t know about this.” And I should be old enough to know better than to put something out there and expect that people will understand. It’s hard to tweet a specific tone. If you write it online, it’s like, “Oh, he doesn’t know! They’re going to kill each other! The world is ending!” And I’m like, “No, no, no.” [Laughs.] I try to avoid social media as much as possible because of that.

[lol-jackles]

For my readers who didn’t want to pay a subscription fee to the Wall Street Journal to read their review of Walker

Chuck Norris’s whompin’ stompin lawman is turned into a soft-spoken hero encumbered by uncertainties.

If you’re looking for whompin’, stompin’, kung-fu-administered rear-end alignments of the Chuck Norris variety, “Walker” may come as a surprise. It will be an understandable surprise: The show is a reboot, pun intended, of the old Norris vehicle “Walker, Texas Ranger,” in which acting, dramaturgy and plausibility took a back seat to the martial-arts prowess of Mr. Norris, the instant gratification that comes with bad guys being righteously thumped and the moral justification of violence, judiciously applied.

In “Walker,” Jared Padalecki (“Supernatural”) plays a far more nuanced edition of Cordell Walker, Texas ranger—lawman, father and widower, though not necessarily in that order; Walker’s priorities are poised to be a central part of the series’ plotlines and motivations. Where Mr. Norris was largely impenetrable, Mr. Padalecki is a wide-open book, riven with uncertainties, apt to make the wrong move. His Walker is established as something quite unusual: a law-and-order hero with no sense of authority. 

This may well change, as only the pilot was available to review and, as with most new shows, the introductory episode is hampered by the task of having to introduce everything. That said, the show’s creator, Anna Fricke, might have done this more tidily. The opening moments of the first episode involve the death of Walker’s wife, Emily ( Genevieve Padalecki ), under circumstances that go unexplained, as do the man’s anguished cries when he hears gunshots over her cellphone while appearing otherwise paralyzed into inaction. The next thing we know, we’ve leapt ahead, to an evening in which Walker is late for his own welcome-home party, an event that provides some shorthand on the rest of the cast and their interrelationships, but not on where Walker’s been, why or for how long. He mutters something about “more than a month,” someone else later says “three months” but it’s hard to tell: All this soft-spoken Texas muttering may be regionally authentic, but it doesn’t help with the details.

Everyone’s mad at Walker, at any rate, especially his kids, Stella (Violet Brinson) and Augie ( Kale Culley), since he seems to have disappeared right after their mother died. Not only has Mr. Padalecki’s character thus been cast as less than forthright and take-charge, it is suggested that he ran away at precisely the time his kids needed him. Rather than rush home to see them when he gets back from his mysterious mission, he parks his enormous pickup truck in a public park. Where he starts drinking. Only to be taken into custody by State Trooper Micki Ramirez (Lindsey Morgan), who, just coincidentally, is about the become a Texas Ranger and—gasp—Walker’s partner.

The moral grayness of “Walker” will give the show’s writers no end of material, especially since the series seems positioned to be family friendly, moralistic, vaguely Christian and averse to the kind of mayhem that distinguished the program’s predecessor: Walker does beat down one deserving, smart-mouthed drug smuggler, but then gets chastised by everyone including his supervisor (Coby Bell ) and has to promise to be better. You have to ask yourself, what would Chuck Norris do?

The new Walker might ask himself the same thing and come up with several conflicting answers. Depending on your outlook, “Walker” is either progressive or feel-good, since it changes the basic thrust of the original and takes place not in Dallas but in that bastion of Texas liberalism, Austin—a choice that likely had more to do with the financial incentives offered to the production by the city than any political statement. But if you’re looking for an agenda, “Walker” will provide.