The actor, 86, will be most remembered on this website for the "Chuck Norris Facts" memes of hyper-exaggerated competence.
Outside of movies and memes, Norris was a longtime conservative activist: pushing back against LGBT inclusion, fearmongering about peaceful Muslims spreading "sharia law", arguing against states teaching evolution in schools, feeding the "birther" conspiracy that Obama was not a US Citizen, spreading a conspiracy that the US military under Obama was going to put Texas under martial law, and supporting Donald Trump.
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the afterparty / lando norris x singer reader
syn: lando norris gets caught liking a singer's instagram post—it all escalates from there.
a/n: this was so fun to make!! hope you enjoy as much as i did creating <3
liked by lando and others
y/nl/n see u @ the afterparty
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luvl/n IS THIS A TEASER FOR A NEW ALBUM??
user1231923490 not everything's a spoiler yk
luvl/n yeah but it might be!!
spotlightdaily See you there!
liked by creator
louderthanyourfavs_ WHAT DOES THIS MEAN??
user12391873 does anyone else see lando norris in the likes or am i tripping bruh
contains audio 'afterparty' — y/nl/n
liked by y/nl/n, mclaren and others
lando lit week
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mclaren Can't wait for this weekend 🔥
liked by creator
y/nl/n damn what's that song?
lando one of the greatest
user123897192 ANOTHER y/n and lando interaction what does this mean omg
olliebearman well well well...
liked by creator
maxfewtrell tickets yes or no
lando hellll yeah
iluvlandonorris TICKETS FOR WHAT???
liked by lando, carlossainz55 and others
y/nl/n insane tn. love you guys always x
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user138129831 are we gonna ignore the fact half the f1 grid was there
carlossainz55 🔥🔥🔥
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allabt_y/nl/n f1 x y/n collab when?
y/nl/n @f1 hmu
contains audio 'girl of the hour' — y/n l/n
liked by lando, mclaren, olliebearman and others
y/nl/n 4m today <3
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mclaren Looks like one of ours strayed 🧐
y/nl/n come and get him he's trying to forge my signature
lando would you say 4's your lucky number?
y/nl/n more like 81
lando oh c'monnn
user129387129 SOFT LAUNCH!! (?)
contains audio 'kiss me in the crowd' — y/n l/n
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y/nl/n party's just started
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lando and who's hosting the afterparty??
Summery: Lando starts his stream with max but there’s someone who steals the show, just by sleeping.
——-The stream went live with the familiar soft click of Lando’s keyboard and the low hum of his PC fans. Monaco was quiet tonight—late enough that the lights from the harbor flickered lazily through the glass doors behind him, the city glowing gold and blue in the distance.
“Alright,” Lando said, leaning toward the mic as the viewer count climbed quickly. “Hi. Um—before anyone says anything, we’re keeping the vibes chill tonight, yeah?”
That alone set the chat off.
CHAT:
WHY ARE WE WHISPERING
CHILL VIBES????
HE SAID UM ITS OVER
SHES THERE ISNT SHE
Lando smiled to himself, eyes flicking briefly to the side.
Just out of frame, pushed right up against his desk like it always was, the couch was occupied. His girlfriend was curled on her side, wearing his hoodie that was swallowed by the blanket she’d dragged from the bedroom. One cheek pressed into the cushion, hair a little messy from when she’d flopped down earlier with a tired, “I’ll just lie here for a sec.”
That sec had turned into sleep.
Her hand was still in his.
She’d reached for him without opening her eyes while he was setting up the stream, fingers sliding into his palm like muscle memory. Now, as she slept, her grip had softened—still there, but loose, warm, trusting.
Lando adjusted his chair just slightly closer so their hands wouldn’t stretch.
“Max is joining in a minute,” he added quietly. “But—uh—inside voices.”
The chat barely heard him over itself.
CHAT:
HAND???
WAIT IS THAT HER HAND
LANDO NORRIS YOU CANNOT DO THIS TO US
Max Fewtrell popped into the call a moment later, camera on, sitting in his London flat with a mug in hand. “Evening, ladies and gentlemen—why are you whispering like you’re in a library?”
“Oi,” Lando said immediately, turning his mic gain down a touch. “Shh.”
Max blinked. “What?”
“She’s asleep,” Lando said, nodding subtly toward the couch.
Understanding dawned on Max’s face, and his grin softened. “Oh. Right. My bad.”
CHAT:
MAX IMMEDIATELY COMPLYING
AS HE SHOULD
SHE’S ASLEEP HOLDING HIS HAND IM GONNA CRY
As the game loaded, Lando leaned back slightly, eyes drifting to her again. Her breathing had slowed, chest rising and falling in that deep, even rhythm that meant she was properly out.
Her fingers twitched once.
Then, slowly, her hand started to slip from his.
Lando noticed instantly.
Mid-sentence, he paused, gently curling his fingers around hers again, thumb brushing the side of her hand. Her grip reformed on instinct, fingers lacing with his this time.
The chat lost it.
CHAT:
THE WAY HE FIXED IT
SHE GRABBED BACK
THEYVE BEEN TOGETHER SINCE KIDS YOUR HONOR
She shifted slightly, face turning toward him. A lock of hair fell forward, tickling her cheek. Lando watched it for a second, then carefully lifted his free hand, slow and deliberate so he wouldn’t wake her.
With the gentlest motion, he tucked the strand behind her ear.
His fingers lingered for half a second longer than necessary.
Max cleared his throat dramatically. “Just so you know, you’re being extremely visible right now.”
Lando glanced at the camera, smirked faintly. “Yeah. They’ll live.”
CHAT:
HAIR TUCKED. STREAM OVER.
BOYFRIEND CODED SINCE DAY ONE
THIS IS MORE INTIMATE THAN DTS
She murmured something unintelligible, brow creasing slightly before smoothing out again. Her grip tightened, and she tugged his hand closer, pressing it against her chest like she needed the reassurance even in her sleep.
Lando leaned toward her, whispering, “I’ve got you.”
Then he looked back at the screen like nothing monumental had just happened.
Gameplay continued. Max talked. Chat spammed. But every few minutes, something small would happen—her thumb brushing his knuckle, her shifting closer, Lando adjusting the blanket when it slipped.
At one point, she stirred properly, eyes fluttering open just a crack.
“You done yet?” she mumbled sleepily.
“Not yet,” Lando whispered, smiling down at her. “Go back to sleep.”
She nodded once, blindly reaching for his hand again even though she already had it.
“Okay,” she said softly, and was out again within seconds.
The chat absolutely imploded.
CHAT:
HER VOICE???
IM NOT OKAY
THE WAY HE SPOKE TO HER
THIS IS WHY FANS LOVE HER
Max leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. “You’re never beating the allegations.”
“What allegations?” Lando asked.
“That you’re the softest man alive.”
Lando shrugged, eyes still on her. “I’m alright with that.”
When the stream finally wound down, Lando thanked chat quietly, promised another stream soon, and ended it without fanfare.
He didn’t move for a long moment afterward.
Instead, he turned his chair fully toward the couch, careful not to pull away. With his free hand, he brushed his knuckles over her cheek.
She smiled in her sleep.
And for Lando Norris, world of racing and noise fading into the background, there was nowhere else he’d rather be.
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Lando noticed it the moment he stepped inside, keys tossed onto the marble counter with a soft clink that echoed far louder than it should have. He kicked off his shoes, stretched, and glanced around like something was missing.
“Well,” he muttered to himself, “this is boring.”
From the bedroom, his girlfriend’s voice floated out. “You’re the one who insisted we wait!”
“I didn’t insist,” Lando shot back, already walking toward her. “I suggested. There’s a difference.”
She appeared in the doorway, arms folded, trying—and failing—not to smile. “You said—and I quote—‘We should be responsible adults and think this through.’”
He winced. “Okay, yeah. That does sound like me. But in my defense, I didn’t know it would feel this… empty.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Empty? We’ve lived here for months.”
“Yeah, but now I know what we’re missing.”
She tilted her head, pretending to consider. “A better coffee machine?”
“Hey. Don’t insult the coffee machine.”
“A second TV?”
“Blasphemy.”
She stepped closer, eyes softening. “You mean the puppy.”
Lando didn’t even try to hide his grin. “The puppy.”
For weeks, they’d gone back and forth—breeds, timing, travel schedules, the chaos of his racing calendar. Every practical concern had been discussed at least three times. And yet somehow, the decision had come down to something far less logical.
They just wanted one.
“Are you still sure?” she asked quietly. “Because once we do this—”
“There’s no going back,” he finished. “Yeah, I know.” He reached for her hand. “I’m sure. Are you?”
She looked at him for a long moment, then nodded. “I’ve been sure since the first time you sent me that photo at 2 a.m.”
He laughed. “He had floppy ears! What was I supposed to do—ignore that?”
“Sleep, maybe.”
“Overrated.”
She squeezed his hand. “Okay. Then let’s do it.”
—
The drive felt longer than it actually was.
Lando tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, glancing over at her every few seconds like he needed confirmation this was real.
“You’re nervous,” she said.
“I’m not nervous.”
“You’ve checked the GPS five times in the last two minutes.”
“Traffic updates are important.”
She smirked. “You’re meeting a puppy, not qualifying.”
“Same pressure.”
“Lando.”
“Okay, fine. I’m a little nervous.”
She reached across the center console and laced her fingers with his. “He’s going to love you.”
“What if he doesn’t?” Lando said, only half joking. “What if he looks at me and thinks, ‘Nah, not this guy’?”
“Then we’ll get a different one.”
He gasped dramatically. “Excuse me? Traitor.”
She laughed. “Relax. It’s a puppy. It’ll probably try to eat your shoelaces within ten seconds.”
“Great. I’ve always wanted to be disrespected by someone that small.”
“You already are,” she teased. “By me.”
“Wow.”
—
The place was quieter than Lando expected.
A small, cozy house just outside the city, with a garden that looked like it had been designed specifically for chaos—perfect for a growing dog. The breeder greeted them warmly, leading them inside.
And then Lando heard it.
Soft, high-pitched yips. Tiny paws skittering against the floor.
“Oh no,” he whispered.
“What?” she asked, but then she saw them too.
A cluster of puppies tumbled over each other in a playpen, all energy and clumsy enthusiasm. One chased its own tail. Another tried to climb over its siblings and failed spectacularly.
Lando’s entire face lit up.
“I want all of them,” he said immediately.
“That’s not how this works.”
“But look at them!”
“I am looking at them. We’re getting one.”
“Two?”
“Lando.”
“Okay, okay. One.”
The breeder smiled knowingly. “Do you want to come closer?”
They both nodded.
The moment the gate opened, chaos spilled out. Tiny paws, wagging tails, curious noses.
Lando crouched down, laughing as one immediately tried to climb onto his knee. “Hi, mate—oh, you’re bold, aren’t you?”
Another puppy sniffed his shoe, then attempted to chew the laces.
“Told you,” she said, crouching beside him.
“Yeah, yeah.” He gently redirected the puppy. “Not food, sorry.”
She reached out, letting a smaller, quieter one approach her at its own pace. “This one’s shy.”
Lando glanced over. The puppy hesitated, then slowly rested its paw on her hand.
“Oh,” she whispered. “Hi, baby.”
Something shifted in Lando’s expression.
“Okay,” he said softly. “That’s the one.”
She looked up. “Really?”
“Yeah.” He nodded toward the puppy now cautiously climbing into her lap. “Look at him. He’s already chosen you.”
She smiled, but there was something emotional in it. “You don’t want to meet the others?”
“I mean, they’re all amazing,” Lando said. “But… this one feels right.”
As if on cue, the puppy turned its head and looked straight at him.
“Okay, now he’s chosen you too,” she said.
“Perfect. Mutual agreement.”
—
The ride home was very different.
Instead of nervous energy, there was a soft, contented quiet. The puppy—now officially theirs—sat curled up in her lap, occasionally lifting its head to look around before settling back down.
Lando kept glancing over.
“You’re going to crash if you keep staring,” she warned.
“I’m not staring.”
“You just drifted into the other lane.”
“I did not—okay, maybe a little.”
She laughed. “Eyes on the road, dad.”
“Dad,” he repeated, grinning. “I like that.”
The puppy shifted, letting out a tiny yawn.
“Oh my god,” Lando said. “Did you see that?”
“Yes, Lando. Puppies yawn.”
“No, but that was the cutest yawn in the history of yawns.”
She shook her head. “You’re gone. Completely gone.”
“Absolutely,” he agreed.
—
Back at the apartment, the silence was gone.
Replaced by the soft patter of paws, the occasional bark, and Lando’s constant commentary.
“No, no, that’s not for chewing—hey! Okay, maybe a little chewing.”
“Lando,” she called from the kitchen, “did you give him one of your socks?”
“He took it!”
“That’s your fault.”
“I was attacked!”
She walked in to find Lando sprawled on the floor, the puppy enthusiastically climbing all over him.
“You look ridiculous,” she said fondly.
“I feel attacked,” he said, though he was laughing.
The puppy paused, then flopped down against his chest like it had found its spot.
Lando froze.
“Don’t move,” she whispered, grabbing her phone.
“I wasn’t planning to,” he said softly.
For a moment, everything stilled.
The noise, the chaos, the laughter—it all settled into something quieter, something warmer.
He looked at her over the tiny bundle resting on him.
“Best decision ever?” he asked.
She smiled, softer than before. “Best decision ever.”
