#Design Role 2025

[janeemmanuel]

GRAPHICS DESIGNER JOB - SMART RECRUIT (LAGOS)

🎨 Graphics Designer – Smart Recruit (Lagos) 📍 Location: Lagos State 🕒 Job Type: On-site, Full-time 💼 Salary: ₦150,000 monthly 📝 Job Summary We are seeking a creative, detail-oriented Graphics Designer to join our team. You must be a visual storyteller who can conceptualize and design compelling content across digital and print platforms. 💡 Responsibilities Design content for social media,…

[smoureart]

WILDE OUT‼️

[alix-relativity]

WICKED WICKED WICKED 🪄

“Remember this: Nothing is written in the stars. Not these stars, nor any others. No one controls your destiny.” ― Gregory Maguire, Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West

Because everyone deserves the chance to fly!

[freshthoughts2020]

[catboybatman]

Why is DC's official merch on their website genuinly so ugly like is this not a company filled with artists?? Even if not, they couldn't bother hiring one (1) person for the merchandise department who knows basic fashion or graphic design??

[felassan]

Jason Schreier for Bloomberg reports: 'Inside the ‘Dragon Age’ Debacle That Gutted EA’s BioWare Studio'

The latest game in BioWare’s fantasy role-playing series went through ten years of development turmoil. The failure of Dragon Age: The Veilguard, released in October, led EA to gut BioWare

[note: article is below cut after these tweets]

Jason Schreier: "NEW: What went wrong with Dragon Age: The Veilguard? Why was the writing so tonally inconsistent? Why did it feel so shallow? Why were there so few choices? Really, after ten years of turbulence, it was a miracle that anything came out at all. This is the story [link]:" [source]

Jason Schreier: "The fatal flaw for Dragon Age: The Veilguard wasn't just that it pivoted from single-player to multiplayer and back again. It was that after the second pivot, the team was forced to keep going rather than hit the reset button and take the time to create a new plan." [source]

Jason Schreier re: this old tweet from Casey Hudson: "Fun fact: when I first reported at Kotaku in 2018 that Dragon Age 4 was rebooted to become a live-service game, BioWare studio head Casey Hudson wrote this on Twitter. But it was not entirely truthful. In reality, the game was being designed around cooperative multiplayer, replayable missions, etc" [source] Casey Hudson's old tweet from 2018: "Reading lots of feedback regarding Dragon Age, and I think you'll be relieved to see what the team is working on. Story & character focused. Too early to talk details, but when we talk about "live" it just means designing a game for continued storytelling after the main story."

Rest of post/article under cut due to length.

(bold in the text below is mine for emphasis)

"In early November, on the eve of the crucial holiday shopping season, staffers at the video-game studio BioWare were feeling optimistic. After an excruciating development cycle, they had finally released their latest game, Dragon Age: The Veilguard, and the early reception was largely positive. The role-playing game was topping sales charts on Steam, and solid, if not spectacular, reviews were rolling in. But in the weeks that followed, the early buzz cooled as players delved deeper into the fantasy world, and some BioWare employees grew anxious. For months, everyone at the subsidiary of the video-game publisher Electronic Arts Inc. had been under intense pressure. The studio’s previous two games, Mass Effect: Andromeda and Anthem, had flopped, and there were rumors that if Dragon Age underperformed, BioWare might become another of EA’s many casualties. Not long after Christmas, the bad news surfaced. EA announced in January that the new Dragon Age had only reached 1.5 million players, missing the company’s expectations by 50%. The holiday performance of another recently released title, EA Sports FC 2025, was also subpar, compounding the problem."

"As a result of the struggling titles, EA Chief Executive Officer Andrew Wilson explained, the company would be significantly lowering its sales forecast for the fiscal year ahead. EA’s share price promptly plunged 18%. “Dragon Age had a high-quality launch and was well-reviewed by critics and those who played,” Wilson later said on an earnings call. “However, it did not resonate with a broad enough audience in this highly competitive market.” Days after the sales revision, EA laid off a chunk of BioWare’s staff at the studio’s headquarters in Edmonton, Canada, and permanently transferred many of the remaining workers to other divisions. For the storied, 30-year-old game maker, it was a stunning fall that left many fans wondering how things had gone so haywire — and what might come next for the stricken studio. According to interviews with nearly two dozen people who worked on Dragon Age: The Veilguard, there were several reasons behind its failure, including marketing misfires, poor word of mouth and a 10-year gap since the previous title. Above all, sources point to the rebooting of the product from a single-player game to a multiplayer one — and then back again — a switcheroo that muddled development and inflated the title’s budget, they say, ultimately setting the stage for EA’s potentially unrealistic sales expectations. A spokesperson for EA declined to comment."

"The union between BioWare and EA started off with lofty aspirations. In 2007, EA executives announced they were acquiring BioWare and another gaming studio in a deal worth $860 million. The goal was to diversify their slate of games, which was heavy in sports titles, like Madden NFL, and light in the kind of adventure and role-playing games that BioWare was known for. Initially, it looked like a smart move thanks to a string of big hits. In 2014, BioWare released Dragon Age: Inquisition, the third installment in a popular action series dropping players in a semi-open world full of magic, elves and fire-spewing dragons. The fantasy title went on to win the much-coveted Game of the Year Award and sell 12 million copies, according to its executive producer Mark Darrah — a major validation of EA’s diversification strategy. Before long, Darrah and Mike Laidlaw, the creative director, began kicking around ideas for the next Dragon Age installment — code name: Joplin — aiming for a game that would be smaller in scope. But before much could get done, BioWare shifted the studio’s focus to more pressing titles coming down the pike. In 2017, BioWare released Mass Effect: Andromeda, the fourth installment in a big-budget action series set in space. Unlike its critically successful predecessors, the game received mediocre reviews and was widely mocked by fans. A few months after the disappointing release, the head of BioWare stepped down and was soon replaced by Microsoft Inc.’s Casey Hudson, an alumni of BioWare’s early, formative years."

"Like much of the industry, EA executives were growing increasingly enamored of so-called live-service games, such as Destiny and Overwatch, in which players continue to engage with and spend money on a title for months or even years after its initial release. With EA aiming to make a splash in the fast-growing category, BioWare poured resources into Anthem, a live-service shooter game that checked all the right boxes. One day in October 2017, Laidlaw summoned his colleagues into a conference room and pulled out a few pricey bottles of whisky. The next Dragon Age sequel, he told the room, would also be pivoting to an online, live-service game — a decision from above that he disagreed with. He was resigning from the studio. The assembled staff stayed late through the night, drinking and reminiscing about the franchise they loved. “I wish that pivot had never occurred,” Darrah would later recount on YouTube. “EA said, ‘Make this a live service.’ We said, ‘We don’t know how to do that. We should basically start the project over.’” Former art director Matt Goldman replaced Laidlaw as creative director, and with a tiny team began pushing ahead on a new multiplayer version of Dragon Age — code name: Morrison — while everyone else helped to finish Anthem, which was struggling to coalesce. Goldman pushed for a “pulpy,” more lighthearted tone than previous entries, which suited an online game but was a drastic departure from the dark, dynamic stories that fans loved in the fantasy series."

"In February 2019, BioWare released Anthem. Reviews were scathing, calling the game tedious and convoluted. Fans were similarly displeased. On social media, players demanded to know why a studio renowned for beloved stories and characters had made an online shooter with a scattershot narrative. In the wake of BioWare’s second consecutive flop, the multiplayer version of Dragon Age continued to take shape. While the previous games in the franchise had featured tactical combat, this one would be all action. Instead of quests that players would only experience once, it would be full of missions that could be replayed repeatedly with friends and strangers. Important characters couldn’t die because they had to persist for multiple players across never-ending gameplay. As the game evolved over the next two years, the failure of Anthem hovered over the studio. Were they making the same mistakes? Some BioWare employees scoffed that they were simply building “Anthem with dragons.” Throughout 2020, the pandemic disrupted the game’s already fraught development. In December, Hudson, the head of the studio, and Darrah, the head of the franchise, resigned. Shortly thereafter, Gary McKay, BioWare’s new studio head, revealed yet another shift in strategy. Moving forward, the next Dragon Age would no longer be multiplayer."

"“We were thinking, ‘Does this make sense, does this play into our strengths, or is this going to be another challenge we have to face?’” McKay later told Bloomberg News. “No, we need to get back to what we’re really great at.” In theory, the reversion back to Dragon Age’s tried-and-true, single-player format should have been welcome news inside BioWare. But there was a catch. Typically, this kind of pivot would be coupled with a reset and a period of pre-production allowing the designers to formulate a new vision for the game. Instead, the team was asked to change the game’s fundamental structure and recast the entire story on the fly, according to people familiar with the new marching orders. They were given a year and a half to finish and told to aim for as wide a market as possible. This strict deadline became a recurring problem. The development team would make decisions believing that they had less than a year to release the game, which severely limited the stories they could tell and the world they could build. Then the title would inevitably be delayed a few months, at which point they’d be stuck with those old decisions with no chance to stop and reevaluate what was working. At the end of 2022, amid continually dizzying leadership changes, the studio started distributing an “alpha” build of Dragon Age to get feedback internally and from outside playtesters. According to people familiar with the process, the reactions were concerning. The game’s biggest problem, early players agreed, was a lack of satisfying choices and consequences. Previous BioWare titles had presented players with gut-wrenching decisions. Which allies to save? Which factions to spare? Which enemies to slay? Such dilemmas made fans feel like they were shaping the narrative — historically, a big draw for many BioWare games."

"But Dragon Age’s multiplayer roots limited such choices, according to people familiar with the development. BioWare delayed the game’s release again while the team shoehorned in a few major decisions, such as which of two cities to save from a dragon attack. But because most of the parameters were already well established, the designers struggled to pair the newly retrofitted choices for players with meaningful consequences downstream. In 2023, to help finish Dragon Age, BioWare brought in a second, internal team, which was working on the next Mass Effect game. For decades there’d been tension between the two well-established camps, known for their starkly divergent ways of doing things. BioWare developers like to joke that the Dragon Age crew was like a pirate ship, meandering and sometimes traveling off course but eventually reaching the port. In contrast, the Mass Effect group was called the USS Enterprise, after the Star Trek ship, because commands were issued straight down from the top and executed zealously. As the Mass Effect directors took control, they scoffed that the Dragon Age squad had been doing a shoddy job and began excluding their leaders from pivotal meetings, according to people familiar with the internal friction. Over time, the Mass Effect team went on to overhaul parts of the game and design a number of additional scenes, including a rich, emotional finale that players loved. But even changes that appeared to improve the game stoked the simmering rancor inside BioWare, infuriating Dragon Age leaders who had been told they didn’t have the budget for such big, ambitious swings."

"“It always seemed that, when the Mass Effect team made its demands in meetings with EA regarding the resources it needed, it got its way,” said David Gaider, a former lead writer on the Dragon Age franchise who left before development of the new game started. “But Dragon Age always had to fight against headwinds.” Early testers and Mass Effect leads complained about the game’s snarky tone — a style of video-game storytelling, once ascendant, that was quickly falling out of fashion in pop culture but had been part of Goldman’s vision for the multiplayer game. Worried that Dragon Age could face the same outcome as Forspoken — a recent title that had been hammered over its impertinent banter — BioWare leaders ordered a belated rewrite of the game’s dialogue to make it sound more serious. (In the end, the resulting tonal inconsistencies would only add to the game’s poor reception with fans.) A mass layoff at BioWare and a mandate to work overtime depleted morale while a voice actors strike limited the writers’ ability to revise the dialogue and create new scenes. An initial trailer made the next Dragon Age seem more like Fortnite than a dark fantasy role-playing game, triggering concerns that EA didn’t know how to market the game. When Dragon Age: The Veilguard finally premiered on Halloween 2024 after many internal delays, some staff members thought there was a lot to like, including the game’s new combat system. But players were less impressed, and sales sputtered."

"“The reactions of the fan base are mixed, to put it gently,” said Caitie, a popular Dragon Age YouTuber. “Some, like myself, adore it for various reasons. Others feel utterly betrayed by certain design choices.” Following the layoffs and staff reassignments at BioWare earlier in the year, a small team of a few dozen employees is now working on the next Mass Effect. After three high-profile failures in a row, questions linger about EA’s commitment to the studio. In May, the company relabeled its Edmonton headquarters from a BioWare office to a hub for all EA staff in the area. Historically, BioWare has never been the most important studio at EA, which generates more than $7 billion in annual revenue largely from its sports games and shooters. Depending on the timing of its launches, BioWare typically accounts for just 5% of EA’s annual bookings, according to estimates by Colin Sebastian, an analyst with Robert W. Baird & Co. Even so, there may be strategic reasons for EA to keep supporting BioWare. Single-player role-playing games are expensive to make but can lead to huge windfalls when successful, as demonstrated by recent hits like Cyberpunk 2077, Elden Ring and Baldur’s Gate 3. In order to grow, EA needs more than just sports franchises, said TD Cowen analyst Doug Creutz. Trying to fix its fantasy-focused studio may be easier than starting something new. “That said, if they shuttered the doors tomorrow I wouldn’t be totally surprised,” Creutz added. “It has been over a decade since they produced a hit.”"

Article by Jason Schreier. [source]

[missadangel]

⊱AMOR MEUS AETERNUS⊰ I Masterlist

(Marcus Acacius x Ofc)

little preview is under the information!!

Summary:  You are an assistant to a costume designer on a busy movie set, where the pressure is high and the work is exhausting. One difficult evening during a lunar eclipse, you suddenly spot a man in a Roman military outfit materializing out of nowhere. At first, you think he’s just a drunk or a bit off his rocker. Unbeknownst to you, he is General Marcus Justus Acacius, who has time-traveled from 205 AD to 2025. authors note: It's a bit of a romantic-comedy-drama stuff because Marcus doesn't know that he traveled to 2025, LMAO poor baby (and you know I'm a hopeless romantic). I'll explain in more detail in chapters why he ended up here and what led him to meet the reader, but I'm avoiding spoilers. And the reader will help him get back to his time but accidentally travel to ancient Rome because of something; i can't talk more, lol. Wait for the episodes, please thank youuuu. if you wanna be tagged lemme know! every chapter will be its own warning and music theme Pairing: Marcus Acacius x Ofc!Reader (Her name is Rose and her hair is dyed) Rating: Explicit, 18+ MDNI, Smut Warnings: Harsh, cold, grumpy Marcus, and the reader is NOT innocent a little bitchy, Lucilla is mean, Lucius is a jerk(but falls in love with reader), its Septimius Severus' era but Geta and Caracalla are the prince of Rome, time travel, modern-ancient era travels, falling in love, slow burn, rough sex, smut, sex, oral sex (both f&m receiving), all sex, dirty talk, gladiators, battle, war, violence, blood, ancient time language, fluffy, injury, forced marriage, arranged marriage, sexism, haters to lovers, first love, angst, vestal virgins, vestal priestesses, age gap; reader is 25 Marcus is 45, reincarnation my masterlist

Little preview from chapter 1....

-------This wasn’t the first time you’d encountered someone like him. He had to be one of those extras, probably underpaid and known for causing trouble on set. He likely hadn’t bothered to change out of his costume and was relishing his small role in this odd setting.

“Look, man, I don’t want any trouble, but I really need you to take off that costume. I’m responsible for the outfits, and if anything happens to it, it’ll come out of my pay, okay? Didn’t anyone give you a heads-up about this?” You stepped closer, but he just froze like a statue, clearly sizing you up. 

Taking another look, you noticed the armor under his robe was totally different from anything you’d ever seen. Were they filming something new without you? That couldn’t be right—or worse, what if he’d swiped it? Great. You reached out for a closer look, but before you knew it, he grabbed your wrist, spun you around, and shoved you away like it was nothing.

“Aaaah!” You winced, clutching your sore wrist, glaring at him in frustration. “Are you out of your mind? Get those clothes off right now! Can’t you hear me? Are you deaf or what?” 

The guy sighed as he wiped his sword with the hem of his robe and sheathed it as if he were doing it every day. He did it with such flair that even a top-notch actor would be impressed.  

“I see you’ve been really getting into character. Nice job!” you quipped with a hint of sarcasm. “But like I said, I need to grab the costume. So, come on, take it off.”  

"What kind of shameless woman are you to demand that I undress?"

What the hell was that? The accent, thick and unfamiliar, rolled off his tongue in a way you had never encountered before. It felt like a whisper from another age, as if echoes of ancient times were woven into each word he spoke.--------

ao3 link

I. Sol Invictus

II. Tensio

III. Amor Primus

IV. Matrimonium

V. Confessio

VI. coming soon

[pitlanepeach]

Radio Silence | Chapter Thirty-Seven

Lando Norris x Amelia Brown (OFC)

Series Masterlist

Summary — Order is everything. Her habits aren’t quirks, they’re survival techniques. And only three people in the world have permission to touch her: Mom, Dad, Fernando.

Then Lando Norris happens.

One moment. One line crossed. No going back.

Warnings — Autistic!OFC, McLaren almost making a generational fumble, pregnancy, strong language, implied sexism in motorsport

Notes — Missed you all so much! Enjoy this longggg chap <3

From: Susie Wolff <susie.wolff@f1academy.com>

To: Amelia Norris <a.norris@mclarenf1.com>

Date: January 2, 2024 – 09:17 AM

Attachments: F1A_AdvisoryBoardOverview.pdf

Amelia,

I’ll get straight to it, as I know you don’t love preamble.

I think now is the time to formally invite you to join F1 Academy as a technical advisor and consulting board member, effective from the start of the 2025 season. Your experience, both practical and personal, is precisely what this program needs.

This role would involve quarterly strategic reviews, input on technical education frameworks, mentoring touch-points, and representation at select events — all designed to build a tangible technical pipeline.

I, of course, understand that this role would have to work-around your prior F1 commitments.

Let me know your thoughts. If you’d like to speak in person.

Warmly, Susie

From: Amelia Norris <a.norris@mclarenf1.com>

To: Susie Wolff <susie.wolff@f1academy.com>

Date: January 2, 2024 – 12:04 PM

Hi Susie,

First: thank you.

Second: I’ve read the overview twice already (I annotated the PDF, sorry in advance). It’s smart. Practical. Grounded. That’s rare in programs like this. You’re doing it right.

Third: Yes, I’m in. Fully.

I’ll carve out the time. If we’re serious about keeping girls in the sport, and I am, then this is the most productive way I can help. I’d also like to propose a technical “shadow program” for the engineering side — similar to what the Driver Academy does. We can talk more about it when you have time.

Appreciate the offer. And the trust.

Best, Amelia

From: Susie Wolff <susie.wolff@f1academy.com>

To: Amelia Norris <a.norris@mclarenf1.com>

Date: January 2, 2024 – 1:30 PM

Amelia,

That’s the best ��yes” I’ve received in months. And I’ll happily take annotated PDFs if they come with your brain attached.

Let’s lock in a short meeting before we fly out next month. I’d love to dig into the shadow program idea — it’s aligned with something I’ve been building out with the FIA technical department. Timing might be perfect.

(Also, your idea about reinforcing retention through non-driver career tracks? Spot on. We’ll need that thinking on the board.)

Thrilled to have you with us.

Susie

From: Amelia Norris <a.norris@mclarenf1.com>

To: Susie Wolff <susie.wolff@f1academy.com>

Date: January 2, 2024 – 2:18 PM

Let’s do Thursday morning — Monaco? I’ll bring revised notes and a framework draft for the shadow pipeline.

A.

From: Susie Wolff <susie.wolff@f1academy.com>

To: Amelia Norris <a.norris@mclarenf1.com>

Date: January 2, 2024 – 3:04 PM

Thursday it is. I’ll send you the address of a lovely little restaurant on the harbour.

Looking forward to what we’ll build together. The sport’s lucky to have you.

Warmly, Susie

—

It was 8:12 a.m. and the kitchen smelled like toast, fresh coffee, and the faintest lingering whiff of washing up liquid — and Amelia's nausea was only made even worse when Lando toasted the wrong kind of bread.

“Why is there no oat milk?” Amelia said flatly, standing in front of the open fridge and glaring into it. 

Lando, half-asleep and shirtless in his McLaren joggers, yawned into his coffee. “What do you mean ‘why is there no oat milk’? You finished it yesterday.”

She didn’t turn around. “No, I finished the backup oat milk yesterday. The good one ran out two days ago. You said you were going to pick some up.”

“I did! They didn’t have your usual so I just got almond instead.”

Amelia shut the fridge and pivoted slowly, expression blank. “That’s not the same.”

Lando blinked. “It’s... kind of the same.”

“I can’t froth almond milk, Lando.” She told him.

“You can’t even drink coffee right now, baby.” He tried.

She stared at him. “Every morning, I drink a decaf latte with oat milk, and you know that, but you’re trying to act stupid so I can’t be mad at you.”

Lando set his mug down very slowly. “Okay. Okay. Let’s breathe through this.”

Amelia pointed at him. “You’re lucky I’m too tired to start throwing things at you.”

“I feel very lucky,” he said, smiling despite himself as he crossed the kitchen and kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll go get your silly oat milk after breakfast.”

“My oat milk is not silly. It is gentle and stable and doesn’t split under pressure. Unlike some things.”

“Oh wow,” he muttered, grabbing the butter. “We’re speaking in metaphors now, are we?”

She sat at the table, still glaring at his toast. “You bought the one with sesame seeds. You know I can’t do the texture right now.”

Lando stared at her. “You didn’t tell me that.”

“I didn’t think I had to! You should just know! You’ve watched me do complex simulations while dry-heaving at the smell of overripe bananas. Sesame seeds are in the same category.”

Lando looked down at his toast, then back up at her. “Okay. So we’re adding a sesame embargo. Got it.”

She let out a sharp sigh, then scrubbed her hands down her face. “I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you. I’m just—”

“Gestating a human?”

She nodded. “It’s so much. Like. All the time.”

Lando softened immediately. He took his plate, dumped his toast in the bin, and set a banana-free, sesame-free bowl of oatmeal in front of her. “Here,” he said. “Neutral foods only. Plain and safe. Like... Switzerland.”

She blinked at the bowl. “This has potential.” She poked the spoon. “You made this with the almond milk?”

“No. Water.” He said. She sighed with relief. He smiled, leaned down, and kissed her forehead. “You have my word that I will never again confuse almond milk with oat milk ever again.”

Amelia muttered into her oatmeal. “You’ve lost food shopping rights.”

He grinned. “I’ll earn them back. Watch me.”

She ate in silence for a minute, then reached for his hand under the table, fingers curling around his.

He squeezed gently. “Better?”

“I still want my oat milk latte.”

“I’ll run down to the shop and get your oat milk.”

“And a bottle of caramel syrup.”

“Of course, baby.”

—

The café on Rue Grimaldi was just beginning to hum with the late-morning crowd when Lando ducked in, hoodie pulled up and sunglasses still on, despite being indoors. He made a beeline for the counter — three cartons of oat milk secured in a small paper bag under one arm, coffee on his mind — only to stop short when someone clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, mate,” came the familiar voice, warm and unmistakably Monegasque.

Lando turned to find Charles, dressed casually in a t-shirt and sunglasses pushed up into his hair, holding a takeaway espresso and looking smug about catching him off-guard.

“Shit. Sorry. Hey,” Lando grinned, adjusting the paper bag before offering a quick one-armed hug. “Didn’t know you came here.”

“You know that I live only three buildings away,” Charles said, amused. “You’re out early for once.”

“Amelia sent me to get oat milk,” Lando told him. “Life-or-death situation. I’m on a mission.”

Charles laughed, gesturing to the barista for another coffee. “How is she?”

“She’s good,” Lando said, instantly softening. He leaned against the counter and rubbed the back of his neck, eyes going distant for a moment. “Actually... she’s kind of amazing.”

Charles raised a brow, sipping his espresso.

“I mean, I always knew she was brilliant, but now with the pregnancy, she’s like... this whole new version of herself. Still very Amelia. Like, intense and sarcastic and kind of terrifying. But also just... soft sometimes. Like, in ways I’ve never seen. And she lets me see it.”

Charles’s face melted into a smile. “You’re in love.”

Lando snorted. “Well yeah. We’re married, remember?”

“But this is different. You sound like... you’re seeing her again for the first time.”

Lando paused. “Yeah. I think I am.” There was a beat of quiet between them as the barista handed over his coffee. He took it with a small nod of thanks, then glanced at Charles. “Think I’ve managed to fall in love with her all over again, you know?”

Charles blinked, visibly touched. “Mate.”

“I know,” he said, grinning awkwardly and taking a sip of his drink. “I’m being all sentimental and shit. Don’t tell Carlos, he wouldn’t let me live it down.”

Charles laughed. “I won’t. But Amelia might appreciate hearing it.”

“She knows,” Lando said quietly, then added, “But yeah. I think it’s good to keep reminding her.”

They stepped outside together, the warm Monaco sun washing over them.

“You’ll be a good dad,” Charles said eventually, nudging his shoulder.

Lando scoffed. “God, I hope so.”

“You will,” Charles repeated with certainty. “I’m sure of it, brother.”

They parted ways at the corner; Charles off to his sim session, Lando heading home, oat milk secure. And for the rest of the day, his smile didn’t quite leave his face.

—

The sun was low, bleeding orange across the horizon and painting long shadows down the winding streets of Monaco. The forest-green supercar purred beneath them like a living thing, gliding effortlessly through the city’s golden-hour glow. The streets shimmered with reflected light, windows catching fire as they passed, the sea winking silver to their right.

Lando’s hands rested easy on the wheel — one perched casually at ten o’clock, the other drifting occasionally over to Amelia’s thigh. The car, already easily recognisable in a city full of fast cars, was still impossible to ignore when he was driving it. Monaco might be saturated with wealth and speed, but Lando Norris in a sleek green supercar turned heads.

Especially when he was wearing that hoodie.

The white Playboy logo, stretched across the back of a black hoodie, had become something of an internet legend. Worn in interviews, airport photos, Twitch streams — it was a piece of lore now. And tonight, with the hood pulled halfway up and his curls just visible underneath, he looked more like a teenager sneaking out after curfew than a world-class F1 driver. But it didn’t matter.

Everyone still knew exactly who he was.

Amelia sat in the passenger seat, the window cracked open slightly, letting the wind tug loose strands of her hair. Her head rested against the seat-back, eyes closed, soaking in the smooth hum of the engine and the scent of salt in the air. After a day full of logistics and troubleshooting — packing, chasing suppliers, managing Oscar’s sim data issue, redoing schedules for Bahrain testing — this was the first moment she’d had to simply breathe.

“This is nice,” she said softly, voice barely carrying above the low purr of the car.

Lando glanced at her and smiled. “Told you it would help. You needed to de-stress.”

“And you needed to stop pacing around the apartment like a caged animal.”

“Fair,” he said with a shrug. “But I pace elegantly, don’t I?”

She cracked one eye open, amused. “You pace like a man trying to calculate the optimal lap around the kitchen island.”

They wound up the coast slowly, not in any rush, Lando deliberately choosing the scenic roads, detouring through the quieter corners of the city. Monaco rolled out around them like a movie set — warm light, quiet glamour, the soft hush of money that didn’t need to announce itself. But eventually, as the streetlights began to flicker on and the sea turned indigo, he turned off toward the familiar façade of the Casino de Monte-Carlo, its gold-lit entrance grand and welcoming.

Amelia blinked as he pulled up to the valet. “We’re eating here?”

“Yeah,” Lando said easily, already unbuckling. “Come on.”

Before she could protest, he was out of the car and jogging around the front, hood still up. She rolled her eyes, but her lips tugged into a smile.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m a good husband,” he corrected, pulling open the door.

Phones were already up. Across the street, a handful of passersby had clocked him immediately, cameras out, the sound of whispers and low murmurs rising like static.

She stepped out into the warm evening air, and he offered his hand — palm up, open, steady.

She took it. “You know this is going to be everywhere tomorrow.”

He shrugged, brushing a curl off her forehead. “Let them look.”

And they did.

By midnight, the photos had already gone viral.

One showed Lando — hoodie on, one hand tucked into his pocket, the other casually holding open the car door with a soft grin. Another showed Amelia stepping out of the passenger seat, hand lightly resting on her stomach in a way she hadn’t even noticed at the time. Her dress fluttered slightly around her legs in the breeze, and her smile was half-laugh, turned back toward Lando like he’d just said something that made her forget that the rest of the world existed.

The captions rolled in fast.

“lando norris taking his wife out for a quiet dinner before sakhir testing”

“is she touching her stomach???? IS SHE PREGNANT?????????”

“that bump is bumping i fear…”

“i swear if they announce they’re having a baby i’m throwing myself in the sea”

“seeing the hoodie again has awakened something in me…”

“her HAND is on her STOMACH and he’s wearing the PLAYBOY hoodie i’m going to PASS OUT”

Inside, the Casino’s main dining room was quiet and dignified — white linen tablecloths, the hum of polite conversation, low light glittering off the crystal chandeliers. They were led to a booth near the back — a soft, curved corner table with views of the harbour, tucked just far enough away from the main room to feel like a secret.

It was their table.

Amelia leaned across the polished surface and tilted her phone toward him. “I’m being tagged in a million things.”

He squinted at the screen. “That’s a lot of caps lock.”

She scrolled. “Someone says that if I have a baby I should name it after Daniel Ricciardo.”

He smirked, sipping from his water. “Hilarious idea.”

“They’re very invested.”

“They like you.”

“They like you. I’m a side character.”

“You’re my favourite character,” he said easily, and something in her eyes softened.

Bread and olive oil arrived, without needing to be ordered, and Amelia absently dipped a piece, still half-scrolling.

She looked up again, a small crease between her brows. “Do you think I make it obvious that I’m pregnant?”

Lando shrugged. “Maybe. You look happy.”

She frowned. “I wasn’t expecting people to notice this fast.”

He reached over and gently wiped a smear of oil from her mouth with his thumb. “You’ve got a glow. And It’s not your fault people are obsessed with you.”

“I think it might be your fault, actually.”

He smiled again, soft and private. “Yeah. Maybe.”

Their food arrived. Lemony pasta for her, grilled steak salad for him. She picked at her plate for a while, quiet. Then, finally, she set her fork down and said, “It’s going to be different soon, isn’t it?”

He looked up. “What is?”

“This. Life. Dinners. Feeling like we still get to be just… us.”

Lando didn’t rush to answer. He leaned back a little, watching her — her face, her hands, the quiet vulnerability creeping in at the edges. “Maybe,” he said eventually. “But different doesn’t have to be bad.”

She nodded slowly. Bit her lip. “You’re going to get such an ego when the fangirls start calling you a DILF.”

He grinned. “Won’t be a lie.”

“Oh, please.”

“I’m just saying." He said. She rolled her eyes at him and he huffed out a laugh. "If our kid has your attitude, I’m going to need divine patience.”

She stopped mid-bite. Blinked. “Oh.”

Lando tilted his head. “What?”

“What if…” she hesitated. “What if they are like me?”

He sat forward, instantly alert. “Baby—”

“I mean it,” she said, voice cracking just slightly. “What if they’re too smart, or too intense, or too weird, and they don’t fit in anywhere? What if they’re… different, and it’s hard, and people expect them to be like you, but they’re not?”

Lando reached for her hand. Held it steady. “Then they’ll be lucky.”

She looked at him, startled.

“I mean it,” he said, voice soft. “If they’re like you, they’ll be brilliant. Strong. Honest. The world doesn’t make it easy on people like that, but you’ll show them how to do it anyway.”

Her mouth trembled.

He leaned in. “I didn’t fall in love with you despite those things, Amelia. I fell in love with you because of them.”

A tear slipped down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly, muttering, “Now I’m crying into my pasta.”

“Adds flavour,” Lando said.

“You’re the worst.”

“I love you.”

She smiled through it, eyes still glassy. “You’re going to be a really good dad.”

He tilted his head. “Yeah?”

“Not strict,” she said, teasing. “But good.”

Lando grinned. “I can’t even tell you no. How am I supposed to say it to a miniature you?”

She laughed, soft and real, and somewhere between the candlelight and the quiet clatter of cutlery, everything settled.

It was different now — but maybe, just maybe, it was... better.

—

The apartment was quiet when they got back. Amelia slipped off her shoes in the hallway, sighed, and leaned briefly against the wall as Lando locked up behind them.

She trailed behind him, fingers tracing the edge of the marble countertop in the kitchen. Her body was tired, heavy in a way it hadn’t been before pregnancy; like her muscles were constantly working overtime to keep up with the quiet, miraculous thing happening beneath her skin.

She stood at the sink, sipping a glass of water slowly, letting the silence settle.

Lando reappeared a few moments later with the familiar glass bottle in his hand. It was half-used now — the bump oil she’d started applying a week ago. Some natural blend that smelled faintly of neroli and sweet almond, promising hydration and elasticity and comfort. 

But more than that, it had become a ritual. A pause. A grounding point at the end of the day when everything else felt like it was moving too fast.

He held it up. “You want the honours, or shall I?”

Amelia stared at him. “Your hands are warmer.”

Lando grinned. “You just like being pampered.”

“Who doesn’t?”

They migrated to the bedroom, the soft white light of the bedside lamps casting everything in a low, golden haze. She pulled her dress off and tossed it gently over the chair, leaving her in a bralette and cotton shorts. The curve of her stomach was still so subtle — just a hint of bloating that she never usually suffered with, a visible whisper of the life growing inside her.

She lay back against the pillows, propped slightly up, and Lando sat cross-legged beside her, the bottle uncapped, hands already slick with oil.

He started slow, careful, hands gentle as he spread the oil over her skin, fingers smoothing in slow, deliberate circles. He was quiet while he worked, but it wasn’t a heavy silence. It was reverent. Focused. Loving.

“You’re getting good at this,” she murmured, eyes slipping closed.

“I practice on watermelons when you’re not home.”

She huffed a soft laugh.

His thumbs moved lower. “I’m absolutely obsessed with you.” He mumbled against the skin of her hip.

“I know.” Her voice was sleepy now. She reached out, hand brushing against his cheek.

He leaned into her touch, then pressed a kiss low against her stomach, just beneath his hands. “Hi, baby-bunch-of-cells,” he whispered, lips brushing warm against her skin. Her lips twitched. “You’ve got the coolest mum in the world, you know that?”

Amelia blinked hard. “Stop making me cry,” she muttered, voice cracking.

“I’m not doing anything,” he said, smug and soft.

She smacked his arm lightly, and he caught her hand, twined their fingers together, and settled down beside her, cheek resting gently against the swell of her belly.

They lay there like that for a while — the room quiet, the scent of the oil soft in the air, his palm warm and open against her skin.

Eventually, Amelia got up to change into a sleep-shirt, all bleary eyed as she wandered back into Lando’s waiting arms.

“You okay?” Lando murmured into her hair, thumb brushing over the bare skin of her hip where her sleep shirt had ridden up as she wriggled her way under the covers.

“Mmhm,” she hummed. “Just tired.”

He didn’t answer right away, just let the silence stretch, the rhythm of their breaths syncing. Her hand was pressed to her belly again — not dramatically, not even consciously. It was just where it always landed now.

And Lando noticed.

“Tell me more,” he said quietly.

She lifted her head. “More?”

“About what you’ve learned. About... all of it.” He tilted his chin toward her stomach. “I know you’ve been reading non-stop. I want to know.”

She blinked, a little surprised. “Really?”

“Yeah. All of it.”

Amelia yawned, then launched in; quieter now, but no less enthusiastic. “Okay, so the placenta doesn’t fully take over hormone production until about ten weeks, which means all the weird mood swings and the nausea and the exhaustion are mostly just the hCG hormone hijacking my system.”

“That’s the one doubling every couple of days?”

“Exactly. I read this one article that called it ‘a hormonal rollercoaster without a seatbelt,’ and it’s one of the only metaphors that I’ve every genuinely understood.”

Lando chuckled softly, fingers drawing slow, idle shapes along her back.

“And apparently,” she continued, “the nausea’s not about throwing up. It’s like this constant, cloying, edge-of-sick feeling that never fully goes away unless I’m horizontal, full of carbs, or momentarily distracted by you being sweet.”

He kissed her temple. “I’ll do my best to be a cure.”

“You’re good at it.”

They lay there quietly for a beat.

“I can’t eat sushi,” she said suddenly. “Or swordfish. Or soft cheese. Or deli-meats. Or sprouts.”

“Brussels sprouts?”

“Alfalfa sprouts.”

“Oh. Honestly that feels like a win.”

“I also can’t take long hot baths or sit in saunas. No ibuprofen.”

“That one seems unfair.”

“Right?” She sighed. “And then there’s this thing called round ligament pain, which apparently is just surprise stabs in the pelvis because your uterus is growing too fast and the ligaments are mad about it.”

He winced. “Sounds... ouchie.”

“Everything about pregnancy is ‘ouchie’. It’s just all been politely marketed.”

Lando let out a low laugh, his chest shaking beneath her. “Baby.”

“I’m serious.”

He turned onto his side, bringing them face to face, his hand splaying wide across her lower stomach like a gentle shield. His thumb brushed slowly just below her navel.

“You’re really doing it,” he said quietly.

“Doing what?”

“This.” His voice softened. “Making a whole human. Half you, half me.”

Her throat tightened. She blinked hard, fighting the familiar sting behind her eyes. “I don’t feel like I’m doing anything most of the time.”

“You’re doing everything,” he said. “Even when you’re just laying here talking about ligament stabs.”

A tear slipped down her cheek. She wiped it quickly with the edge of the duvet and muttered, “Now I’m crying in bed.”

Lando smiled. “Well, there goes the dry side of the pillow.”

“You’re the worst.”

“I love you.”

When she finally fell asleep, it was with his hand still resting over her belly and a vow stitched into the silence of their bedroom.

—

The cabin lights were dimmed to a sleepy gold, the hum of the engines a constant low white noise in the background. Lando had kicked his shoes off an hour ago and was now curled sideways in his seat, legs stretched across the aisle to rest against Amelia’s footrest, a battered hoodie bunched around his shoulders like a blanket.

Amelia had her noise-canceling headphones looped around her neck, but wasn’t using them. Her head rested against the window, fingers lazily tracing patterns on thigh through the soft cotton of her leggings.

Her seat was reclined, her feet tucked up beside her, a half-finished crossword open on the tray table. She wasn’t filling in the answers anymore — just twirling the pen between her fingers, eyes glassy with that deep-travel fatigue that always hit halfway through long-haul flights.

Lando cracked one eye open and looked at her. “You asleep?”

“Nope,” she said, voice soft. “Just thinking.”

“About the car?”

“About the twelve hours I’ll spend at the track tomorrow.” She rubbed her temple. “Oscar’s nervous. The aero team still hasn’t patched the instability in the rear. And I’m definitely going to throw up in the hospitality bathroom at least once before 10 a.m.”

Lando yawned, unbothered. “Sounds like a normal Thursday.”

Amelia kicked lightly at his shin. “You’re not helping.”

“I’m not trying to. I’m trying to distract you.”

She glanced at him, skeptical.

He sat up slightly, stretching across the console between them to brush a piece of hair out of her face. “Want me to list all the things I think you’re going to smash tomorrow?”

“No.”

He grinned. “Tough. You’re gonna boss Oscar’s testing schedule. You’re going to yell at one engineer and make them better for it. You’re going to make that car faster in a week than some teams do in three months. And you’re going to throw up very discreetly, like the absolute professional you are.”

She snorted, biting back a smile. “Helpful.”

“I try.”

Amelia tilted her head against the headrest and murmured, “Love you.”

Lando reached for her hand under the shared armrest and laced their fingers together, thumb brushing slow circles against her skin.

They sat like that for a while, not talking, not needing to, the lights dim, the flight steady, and the love endless.

—

The paddock wasn’t quite awake yet.

The early morning desert sun cast everything in long gold shadows, and the garages buzzed with that low, electric anticipation that only came with testing. Engineers murmured over telemetry, coffee steamed in paper cups, and the distinct scent of warm asphalt clung to everything.

Amelia sat on the wide concrete step outside the hospitality unit, a bottle of water between her hands and her sunglasses pushed up into her hair. She didn’t look pregnant yet, not unless you were looking, but she felt it anyway — in the way her shirt tugged tighter around the middle, in the constant low hum of her body doing something without asking her permission.

She didn’t look up when Celeste dropped down beside her with two iced coffees in hand.

“Stolen from Red Bull catering,” Celeste said brightly, offering one. “I’m not above crimes, and they all love you too much to snitch. Yours is decaf, obviously.”

Amelia took it without a word. “Thank you.”

They sat in silence for a while, the sun hot on their skin.

Eventually, Celeste nudged her knee. “You good?”

Amelia hesitated. Then. slowly, like peeling something back, “I’m not... bad. But I’m not good.”

Celeste looked at her, eyebrows lifted, but didn’t interrupt.

“It’s just…” Amelia gestured vaguely at her stomach, then let her hand fall again. “Everything’s changing and I didn’t give it permission to.”

Celeste blinked, caught off guard by the honesty. “Yeah?”

“I know that’s sort of the point of pregnancy,” Amelia said, eyes still fixed on the horizon. “But my body doesn’t feel like mine right now. And not just the physical stuff. My routines are off. My sleep feels weird. I don’t like food I used to like, and I suddenly love things I used to hate. And I can’t regulate my temperature or my moods and none of my bras fit and—” She stopped. Swallowed. “I just... I feel hijacked. And it’s really hard not to spiral about it.”

There was a beat. “That makes perfect sense,” Celeste said, voice low and steady. “You’re used to having a say in everything. Your clothes. Your space. Your schedule. Your comfort. Your body. And now all those things are changing at once, without warning.”

Amelia nodded, quick and tight, eyes stinging. “And the worst part is — I want the baby. I love the baby. But I feel like I’m being dragged behind my own life, and I keep thinking... ‘If I’m already this overwhelmed, how the hell am I supposed to do the next seven months?’”

Cleste didn’t offer clichés. She didn’t say “you’re strong” or “you’ll be fine.”

Instead, she reached out and gently touched Amelia’s forearm. “Okay. So let’s start with what isn’t changing today. What do you still have control over?”

Amelia sniffled and looked down at her shoes. “My spreadsheets.”

Celeste smiled. “Great. What else?”

“My noise-canceling ear defenders. My sleep playlist.”

“There you go. Small things are still yours.”

Amelia let out a shaky breath. “I keep telling myself that it’s just sensory overload. That I’ve handled worse. That it’ll pass.”

“But even if it doesn’t,” Celeste said gently, “you’ll adapt. You always have. And if it helps at all, I think what you’re feeling is incredibly valid — and not remotely selfish.”

“I feel selfish.”

“You’re not. You’re neurodivergent, pregnant, and also a woman working in the highest level of motorsport. If you weren’t feeling overwhelmed, I’d be worried.”

Amelia huffed out a laugh, surprised. “That’s... actually helpful.”

Celeste bumped their shoulders together. “You’re allowed to love the baby and hate what pregnancy does to your routine. Both things can be true. You don’t have to be one or the other.”

For the first time all morning, Amelia’s posture eased slightly.

“Do you wanna come hide in the RedBull motorhome for a bit?” Celeste offered. “I think I saw one of the catering guys stash the good pastries behind the juice bar.”

“I shouldn’t abandon my team on day one,” Amelia said, already standing.

Celeste rolled her eyes. “It’s lunch time. I think you’re allowed a croissant.”

—

The sun was beginning to sink behind the Bahraini paddock, casting long gold stripes through the motorhome windows. Most of the team was trickling into the hospitality area for water, air-con, and a brief moment of respite.

Amelia was halfway through a half-melted protein bar and hunched over her laptop, squinting at a CFD report that felt like it was written in Elvish. Her brain had long since checked out. She barely noticed the door open until a familiar voice cut across the quiet.

“Well, if it isn’t the boss herself.”

She looked up — and grinned, the kind of grin that cracked her whole face open with genuine affection.

Oscar stood in the doorway, sun-browned from a week back home in Melbourne, hair a little longer, hoodie sleeves pushed up his forearms. He looked… relaxed. And irritatingly cheerful.

“You’re late,” she said, standing up and crossing the room in three long strides before throwing her arms around him in a hug that knocked the breath out of him.

“Jesus,” he wheezed, but hugged her back without hesitation, forehead dropping against her shoulder. “Missed you too, I guess.”

“Shut up,” she said into his hoodie. “You were gone for seven days. That’s the longest we haven’t spoken in two years. It was disorienting.”

He laughed, pulling back just enough to look at her. “You look like you haven’t slept.”

“I haven’t,” she said flatly. “They changed the diffuser without me.”

Oscar winced. “I heard. Sorry. Want me to key somebody’s car?”

“No, I can’t have you being charged with a crime this close to the first race of the season,” she sighed. “But thank you anyway.”

They sank into the cushy booth under the window, Amelia tucking her legs up beside her and watching as he peeled open a protein bar of his own.

“Home okay?” She asked.

Oscar nodded. “Yeah. Mum made me a list of things to bring back that I forgot entirely. My sister says hi. Oh — and Dad said ‘congrats on the rugrat’.”

Amelia snorted. “He did not.”

Oscar shrugged, his lips twitching. “He did.”

She laughed, leaning her head back against the booth. “I missed you.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m very loveable. Anything explode while I was gone?”

“Just my patience. And there was a very minor fire in the CFD department.”

Oscar winced. “Anyone hurt?”

“No. Just some bruised egos.” She sighed. They sat in companionable silence for a while. Outside, the sound of reporters and tool carts echoed through the alleyways. Inside, it was calm. Steady. After a moment, Amelia nudged him with her knee. “It’s good you went home. Family time is important for optimal motivation.”

“I know.” He said. He was smiling at her.

“Did you bring me back a souvenir?” She asked.

Oscar grinned. “Check my backpack.”

She leaned over, unzipped the top pocket; and let out a delighted noise at the sight of a tiny stuffed koala wearing aviators.

“His name is Downforce,” Oscar said proudly.

Amelia held it up and stared at it. “I’m putting him on the dash of the simulator.”

“Please do.”

And just like that — they were back. Her with her sharp edges, him with his dry sarcasm, and something between them that felt like a shared backbone. Stronger for the distance. Ready for whatever testing, and the season ahead, threw at them next.

—

The desert heat hadn't even peaked yet and Amelia was already sweating.

Engineers in crisp polos darted between garages with clipboards and headsets; pit crew rolled tires across the hot concrete; camera crews hovered at the edges, hungry for glimpses of shiny new bodywork or strained facial expressions.

Amelia stood just inside the garage, arms crossed tight over her chest, her clipboard clutched in one hand like a weapon. Her sunglasses were perched high on her nose, more for the glare of her own frustration than the sun. In front of her, the MCL38-AN, her car, in every way that mattered, sat on its stands, monitors blinking with diagnostic readings. And she hated what she saw.

It wasn’t bad, technically. Nothing catastrophic. But it was wrong.

The wrong wing configuration. The wrong ride height assumptions. The rear diffuser changes she’d flagged three weeks ago had been pushed through without her sign-off — a democratic decision made by the broader engineering committee while she was out for the afternoon with a migraine. The moment she’d seen the telemetry from Oscar’s first handful of laps, she’d known that’d cost them at least two-tenths on the straights.

And now? It was too late to fix it.

“Still gathering data,” one of the aero leads said beside her, hopeful. Too hopeful.

Amelia didn’t look at him. “You’re gathering confirmation bias. You want the data to tell you it was worth it.”

He blinked. “We can’t reverse the updates before the first race.”

“I know,” she said tightly. “I’m not asking you to. I’m telling you that they shouldn’t have been implemented in the first place.”

He took a step back.

Oscar pulled back into the garage just then, visor up, sweat beading at his temples. He popped the wheel off and offered her a sheepish smile. “Feels like I’m dragging a parachute on the straights.”

Amelia didn’t smile. “You basically are.”

Oscar winced. “Well, that’s nice.”

She handed the clipboard off to a mechanic without a word and turned on her heel, storming down the garage tunnel toward the back paddock.

Lando caught up with her a minute later, jog-walking like he knew better than to grab her arm when she was in this mood. “Hey. Hey—baby.”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

She spun to face him. “They changed my car, Lando. They changed my car without consulting me, and now it’s dragging down the straights like a brick with wings. And everyone’s acting like it’s going to be okay because they modelled it that way.”

His expression softened. “You told them that diffuser adjustment was a mistake.”

“I told them ten times.”

“You also told me you’d be polite and calm in front of the media,” he teased gently.

“I lied.”

He stepped closer, bumping his shoulder lightly against hers. “We’ll fix it.”

“No,” she said, throat tight. “We’ll mitigate it. We’ll bandage the decision they made without me. But it’ll still be wrong, Lando.”

Lando didn’t argue. He knew her well enough not to.

Instead, he stood beside her quietly, both of them staring out at the line of cars rumbling through pit lane in the rising heat.

After a long moment, Amelia let out a breath. “I hate when I’m right.”

“I don’t,” Lando said. “That’s why I married you. It’s helpful to always have the smartest one in the room on my side.”

She didn’t smile, not quite, but the fury softened at the edges, just enough.

—

The room was too bright. Too cold. The kind of sterile that made every emotion feel like a liability.

Amelia stood at the end of the table, spine ramrod straight, her hands braced on the glass surface like it was the only thing keeping her tethered to the floor. Zak sat near the head, arms folded tightly across his chest. Andrea was beside him, flipping aimlessly through the printed test data, though his eyes never left her.

She didn’t wait for an invitation. She didn’t sit.

“This isn’t working out.”

Zak blinked. “Amelia—”

“No. Don’t try to explain it to me.” Her voice was even, but it cracked with a sharpness that made Andrea stiffen. “I’ve been quiet about the changes. I’ve followed the chain of command. I’ve backed off. I’ve trusted the process. But I’m telling you now: the car is wrong.”

Andrea opened his mouth, but she didn’t let him speak.

“I don’t care what the wind tunnel says,” she continued, tone clipped and fast, like she had too much to say and not enough runway. “I don’t care how many simulations you run with this configuration — the car is fundamentally slower through mid-to-high speed corners and we are losing straight-line efficiency. I flagged this four months ago when the adaptions were suggestion, and I was ignored.”

Zak exhaled slowly. “We made collective decisions, Amelia. You were—”

“No,” she said, and it wasn’t loud, but it hit. “Decisions were made, yes. But I wasn’t listened to. There’s a difference.”

Andrea’s voice was quiet but firm. “The engineering team felt—”

“The engineering team,” she cut in, “is brilliant. I have never questioned their intelligence. But they are second-guessing me — consistently — because I’m who I am. And don’t you dare try to tell me that’s not part of it.”

Zak’s expression tightened, and for a second, he looked like her father again — not the CEO, not the face of McLaren, just a man caught between protectiveness and policy. But he said nothing.

Amelia leaned forward, tone even sharper now. “You gave me my title. Chief Technical Director. You paraded me in front of press as the future of McLaren. But when it mattered, when it came down to actual performance philosophy, you let them override me. You didn’t back me.”

There was a long, taut silence.

Her hands curled into fists against the glass.

“I am telling you now,” she said clearly, eyes burning but voice terrifyingly calm, “You have until Miami to revert the floor spec, the rear suspension setup, and the aero surfaces back to my configuration. You have until Miami to stop pretending that compromising on half a dozen micro-decisions makes a faster car. It doesn’t. And I won’t let my work, my life’s work, be slowly watered down until it’s just another near-miss.”

Andrea looked at her, slow and wary. “You’re saying you’ll quit.”

She didn’t flinch. “I’m saying I’ll walk.”

Zak looked like she’d punched him. “Honey—”

“No,” she said. “I’m not bluffing. I’ve given everything to this car. I built the MCL38-AN from the ground up. It is mine. And I’m watching it get torn apart by people who didn’t have the vision and don’t have the stakes I do.”

Her voice caught, just for a second; not from tears, but from fury held too long in her chest.

“I am not normal. I’m autistic,” she said bluntly, like she was listing part numbers. “I have spent my life learning how to make people take me seriously. I have sat in rooms where grown men laughed at me. I have had to make everything perfect just to be considered competent. So when I say that the car is broken, that your changes are wrong, it is not emotion. It is not ego. It is fact.”

She let that hang in the air.

Zak looked stunned. Andrea finally glanced down at the table.

Amelia straightened, pulling her hands from the glass. “Miami. That’s your deadline. Fix it, or I walk. And don’t think for a second that I won’t be taking both of my drivers with me.”

She turned before they could answer, too wired to hear excuses, too angry to be placated.

The door clicked shut behind her.

And somewhere down the hall, someone exhaled like they’d been holding their breath the entire time.

—

SkySportsF1 — An Interview with Amelia Norris

Naomi Schiff smiled at the camera as the red light blinked on. “Welcome back to Sky Sports F1. I’m joined now by McLaren’s Chief Technical Director, Oscar Piastri’s race engineer, and — of course — Lando Norris’ better half, Amelia Norris.”

Amelia, seated beside her in her team polo and her aviators hooked neatly into her collar, gave a small nod. “That’s a long title.”

Naomi laughed. “It’s earned. You’ve got more job descriptions than most team principals.”

Amelia tilted her head. “Efficient, not overcommitted.”

Naomi grinned. “Noted. Let’s start with something beyond car development — I know, shocking. F1 Academy is heading into its second year. More races on the main calendar. More visibility. How does it feel to see that kind of progress?”

Amelia’s expression shifted. Still composed, but with the slightest hint of warmth. “It feels... structural. Like we’re finally reinforcing the foundation instead of just repainting the surface.”

Naomi raised a brow, impressed. “That’s a good way to put it.”

“I don’t do metaphors often,” Amelia said dryly. “But that one felt accurate.”

Naomi leaned in slightly, tone softening. “You’ve spoken before, pretty openly, about how difficult it was to be taken seriously in motorsport. As a woman. As someone neurodivergent. What does this shift toward real support for women in the sport mean to you, personally?”

Amelia paused, more out of precision than hesitation. “It means I don’t have to keep hoping someone else fixes it. I can actually contribute. Visibility isn’t enough. It has to come with access. Tools. Pathways. F1 Academy’s starting to offer that.”

Naomi nodded, clearly moved. “And — not to blow up your spot, but — there are rumours that you’ll be working more closely with them in 2025?”

Amelia gave her a dry look. “Did Lando tell you that?”

Naomi smiled innocently. “I have many sources. All of them chatty.”

A breath, then Amelia gave a small, firm nod. “Yes. I’ll be joining the F1 Academy as a consultant next year. I’ll be working with Susie Wolff to develop a clearer technical development route for girls who want to work behind the scenes; not just drivers, but engineers, analysts, strategists. The full picture.”

Naomi’s eyes lit up. “That’s amazing.”

“It’s overdue,” Amelia said plainly. “You can’t call it a pipeline if it only works for certain people. And I know there are girls watching now who love this sport but don’t dream of being the one in the car. I’m doing this for them. Or someone like me, fifteen years ago.”

Naomi nodded. “And I assume McLaren’s more than happy for this to happen?”

Amelia shrugged. “Can I be honest? I haven’t even asked. It won’t affect my workload, and it certainly won’t affect my ability to do my job.”

Naomi laughed. “So you’re not going to slow down anytime soon?”

Amelia shook her head. “Statistically unlikely.”

Naomi turned slightly to the camera. “Well, there you have it. Amelia Norris — technical director, race engineer, soon-to-be F1 Academy consultant, and managing to make the rest of us look lazy.”

Amelia leaned toward the mic. “If anyone catches me napping in the background of any kind of weekend coverage, keep it quiet.”

Naomi laughed again, but there was a twinkle in her eye as she added, teasing, “One last question, off the record — and this is very important. Have you tried ginger nut biscuits?”

Amelia blinked. “I don’t really like cinnamon.”

Naomi tilted her head. “They’re not made with cinnamon.”

Another blink. Amelia was processing.

Naomi just winked. “Woman to woman.”

There was a beat of silence, then Amelia deadpanned, “That’s a reach.”

But her hand twitched toward her stomach, just slightly, as Naomi stood to wrap the segment.

“Thanks for joining us, Amelia,” Naomi said with a smile. “We’ll be keeping an eye on you — and your napping schedule.”

“Please don’t,” Amelia muttered as she removed her mic.

Off-camera, Naomi gave her a wink again. “You’re glowing, by the way.”

Amelia looked at her, unreadable. “That’s just my moisturiser.”

Naomi grinned slyly. “Sure it is.”

—

The desert heat shimmered off the tarmac in visible waves.

Oscar’s McLaren skimmed past the pit wall with that clean, calibrated roar, and Amelia tracked the car’s movement without flinching, her eyes hidden behind reflective sunglasses.

“Box this lap,” she said calmly into the headset.

“Copy, boxing,” came Oscar’s voice, easy and even, like it always was. There was something reassuring about his tone; not casual, but not strained either. Balanced. Controlled.

Andrea leaned over her shoulder, pointing to the small uptick in temps on the left rear. “He’s pushing.”

Amelia didn’t look up. “Yeah. That was the instruction.”

Oscar pulled into the box, the car gliding to a stop just as the garage crew surged into motion — tire blankets off, engineers at the ready. Amelia stood, tugging her headset off and walking to the front of the garage.

Oscar cracked his visor. “That middle sector’s still a bit off.”

“Because you’re braking into 10 a touch early,” she said, handing him a bottle of water. “You’re playing it safe.”

“I like keeping the car in one piece.”

“You’re not going to bin it.”

Oscar arched a brow. “You say that with such confidence.”

“I built the balance map. I know what it can take.”

He took a sip of water and gave her a knowing look. “You’ve been a bit grumpy today.”

Amelia crossed her arms. “Because I feel like I’m being ignored and I don’t like it.”

Oscar smirked. “You sound like Lando.”

“I married Lando,” she muttered.

Oscar exhaled a quiet laugh and climbed out of the car. “Alright. Back in ten?”

“Back in seven,” Amelia corrected, already turning toward the data wall.

As he walked past her, he added, “You missed me, didn’t you?”

“I missed clean telemetry,” she replied without looking up.

But her mouth twitched.

Oscar tugged off his gloves. “I’ll take it.”

She didn’t say anything, but when he sat back down in the debrief chair, she handed him the revised turn-in model she’d finished before lunch — already annotated, already highlighted, already calibrated to his feedback.

He looked down at it, then back at her. “You ate lunch, right?”

“I did,” Amelia said flatly, taking her seat at the pit wall again.

Over comms, the crew confirmed readiness.

Oscar nodded to her. “Let’s go again.”

“Push lap. Use the whole track. Let it breathe in 12.”

“Copy.”

—

The moonlight caught Amelia’s cheekbones when she leaned her head against the headrest, her arms folded tight across her chest.

Oscar was on her left, earbuds in but not playing anything. Lando sat on her right, one leg folded beneath him, picking at the label on a water bottle.

The car was quiet in that post-testing way; all of them wrung out, smelling faintly of heat and rubber, the air-conditioning humming low.

Amelia finally broke the silence.

“I gave them a deadline,” she said.

Lando glanced over. “Who?”

“My dad. Andrea.” She didn’t look up. “I told them they have until Miami to either revert the car back to my spec and implement the rest of the changes — or I walk.”

Oscar blinked. Slowly pulled his earbuds out. “You what?”

“I’m not doing this,” Amelia said, voice cool and measured. “I refuse to accept excuses and be forced to sit back and watch the car become less than what it could be.”

Lando didn’t speak. He just reached over, his hand warm where it closed around her wrist, grounding.

Oscar leaned forward slightly, elbows on his knees. “You said that to their faces?”

“In Zak’s office. Door open. With Andrea across the desk. I told them straight — they’ve got until Miami to course-correct, or I’m done.”

Lando’s jaw flexed, but he stayed quiet.

Amelia kept her eyes fixed out the window. “They know it’s true. They’re letting politics win over performance. And if they don’t fix it, I’m not going to sit there and let them ruin our chance of a championship to preserve some internal power structure. I’m tired of pretending the problem is something else.”

Oscar shifted. “You think they’ll actually listen?”

“I think they’ll think about the gap they’ll have to fill if they lose me mid-development. They’ll run the numbers.”

Lando exhaled through his nose. “You shouldn’t have to threaten to leave just to get them to listen to you.”

“I know,” she said. Quiet. Blunt. “But they weren’t going to do it otherwise. I’ve tried calm. I’ve tried patient. I’ve tried proving them wrong. They still my decisions be overridden. So now they get consequences.”

Lando rubbed a hand down his face. “I’ll back you. Whatever happens.”

Oscar nodded. “Same.”

Amelia finally looked at them. “You’re both under contract.”

“And you’re the reason we were podium-capable last year,” Lando said. “If they don’t see that, they’re idiots.”

Amelia didn’t smile. But the line of her shoulders softened just a little.

Oscar leaned his head back against the headrest. “Miami’s in, what — two months?”

“Eight weeks,” she said.

“So... no pressure.”

Amelia snorted. “You’re driving the car, ducky. Pressure’s on you.”

That earned a tired chuckle from the Aussie.

Lando leaned into her shoulder gently, head tipping against hers. “Whatever happens, we’ve got your back, okay?”

Amelia closed her eyes for a moment, just long enough to breathe it in. “I know.”

NEXT CHAPTER

[deadpanjisung]

♔ the monarchs’ quarrel ♔

pairing: versace prince!hwang hyunjin x versace princess!reader MDNI!!!!! genre: enemies to lovers, angst, smut warnings: y/n and hyune are both assholes (soz), swearing, insecurities, a lot of bickering, jealousy, references to monarchy but only inside versace, pet names (princess/prince), kinda roleplay-ish, unrealistic scenarios, breast play, fingering, oral sex (fem receiving), missionary sex, unprotected sex, cre4mpie, cumplay, etc. (sorry if i missed any).

wc: 6.6k feedback is encouraged ◡̈ i hope you enjoy♡ -˚₊‧꒰ა ginny ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Hotel, Milan, 2025, 5:30 p.m.

“Can you get me a pin, please?” You asked your makeup artist. She nodded and scurried over to the dresser. 

You weren’t supposed to pin anything up by yourself, but your usual stylist was too busy assisting Donatella’s golden prince for his appearance in Milan Fashion Week. And your appointed stylist was recording an interview. Therefore, Yuri handed you the pin, you carefully folded a piece of fabric on the inside of your dress and pinned it up.

Your gown was regal, nothing less for Versace’s (now overlooked) princess. A stunning black lace gown with red and purple accents cascaded down your body. Your hair was tied up in a high ponytail in attempts to make your stunning gold tiara stand out. Golden, sapphire and amethyst beads adorned your neck, wrists and ears. 

You loved this life, royalty at her finest. But you couldn’t resist feeling jealous of Hyunjin. You were Versace’s favorite ambassador before he came. Donatella used to flaunt you a year ago. You used to design your outfits with her for months before Hyunjin became an ambassador. Now she splits her time between you and Hyunjin. “Envy” was a more appropriate term for what you felt. You were casted aside when he came into the scene. 

You couldn’t stand being next to him for the fashion show, you couldn’t stand to be the face of the new campaign along him, and you could barely digest the fact that your companies arranged him to be featured in one of your songs. Hyunjin was appropriating everything that you did. And he did it better than you. Being stuck next to him, pretending to be friends with your biggest opponent in the industry was psychological torture to you. But you loved Donatella even amidst your abandonment issues, you did it for her. You couldn’t be the person that burst her dream of having you and Hyunjin as the new faces of Versace. It wouldn’t be fair after how much she helped you grow. Of how she’s actively making your biggest dream come true.

“Y/N? Can I finish applying your lipstick?” Yuri asked, interrupting your internal monologue.

“Yes, of course.” You replied, sitting back down in your gorgeous, but uncomfortable, dress.

You didn’t expect Donatella to barge into your hotel room, but there she was, in all her glory. Your fashion role model since you could remember.

“My princess! You are stunning!” She exclaimed upon seeing you and sent a flying kiss towards your way. You blushed.

“Nothing but the best to represent you, the queen of the fashion industry.” You replied. Donatella laughed. 

“You flatter me too much, princess! You are this brand’s future, you do know?” She said, “You and Hyunjin, of course. My little monarchs. My prettiest duo.” It took a lot of self-control for you to not roll your eyes at her mention of Hyunjin’s name. You smiled.

“You give us too much credit. The prince is certainly handsome and I, must be beautiful in your eyes, but we are just a speckle of the myriad that is your vision.” You added. She laughed once again.

“Thank you. My gorgeous, gorgeous girl. I will see you at the show.” She threw you another kiss and exited the room. Your makeup artist chuckled as she left. 

“Yuri, c’mon!” You whined.

“What? I just think it’s funny that she’s completely unaware that you and Hyunjin don’t like each other.” Yuri commented. “Plus, it’s funny to see your princess act in real time.” You snickered. 

And stared at yourself in the mirror. Your dark purple and gold makeup matched your dress and accessories. You looked beautiful, a version of yourself that would never again exist when you took off your makeup and your gown. You sighed at the thought of losing her, the best version of yourself. The only version you rendered worthy of being perceived. 

“Okay, Y/N. You’re fabulous. Let’s go!” Yuri said, softly yanking at your sleeve. 

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・☆.。.:・°

Milan Fashion Week, 2025, 7:30 p.m.

You arrived at the venue, feeling nervous and bashful and everything in between. Paparazzi took pictures of you as you walked inside, slowly and confidently, as a mask for your insecurity.

You instantly spot Donatella; and next to her, Hyunjin, as expected. You hadn’t seen him since you shot your promotional pictures for the collection. You had heard that he had cut all of his hair off, but you didn’t expect him to look so… nice …with a buzzcut. You strode over to Donatella and Hyunjin.

“There she is!” Donatella exclaimed. Hyunjin looked back at you, his blue contacts burning into your eyes. “Absolutely breathtaking!”

“My princess,” Hyunjin bowed. “You look beautiful, as always.” 

“My prince, you are truly a sight for sore eyes tonight.” You curtsied. “It is only my luck that I will be standing next to you.” You mostly hated this character, it did amuse you at times, but most importantly, Donatella loved it.

“It is my pleasure to be in the company of the most stunning person here.” He added. “Only after, our ethereal queen, of course.” He looked at Donatella.

“Oh! Hyunjin, you are too much!” She laughed. “The love you have for each other is perfection, my prince and princess. Make sure to show it at the carpet, okay?” You both nodded. She was dragged away by one of her assistants. 

Once Donatella left, your demeanor changed completely. Neither of you smiled, you took out your phone. 

“My princess…” Hyunjin mocked. “Do we have anything prepared to say tonight?” You rolled your eyes.

“My prince.” You sighed. “Yes, deny a relationship between us, duh. Then, promote the campaign, tease our musical collaboration, take pictures together and, my favorite: avoid each other until the next event.”

“Well, princess. I don’t think that’s very loving of you.” He snickered and extended his arm to you. You apprehensively locked arms with him as you stepped into the carpet. Flashing lights overwhelmed you as you tried to keep a straight face for the cameras. Hyunjin was a natural at this. At times, you would just stare at him in annoying admiration for his beauty and talent.

“Prince and Princess! Is this what it looks like?” A reporter asked. “Are you hard launching a relationship tonight?” You both chuckled.

“It would be an honor, but I must deny that. My princess and I are undeniably together in soul, but in body just to promote our new collection that’ll be presented tonight!”

“It is so honoring for us to have worked on these designs with the one and only, Donatella. She is always the main event. My prince and I are just assistants to her genius.”

“I bet STAY will be relieved to hear that!” The reporter added. “Anything we should expect from this collection tonight?”

“A mix of our styles and personalities is the most characterizing thing.” Hyunjin replied.

“C’mon, anything else? For the viewers?”

“The prince and I do enjoy keeping some things in the dark, don’t we?” You teased. Hyunjin nodded.

“I’ll just say this… you should expect a lot from us very soon.” Hyunjin agreed. 

“Oh! I’m intrigued now. I encourage you all to follow the prince and princess very closely, then.” The reporter commented. “You both look absolutely spectacular! Thank you for your time!” 

You and Hyunjin recorded about ten more interviews along those same scriptures. You took countless pictures together, faking smiles, laughs and hugs. You sat next to each other during the runway show, but you paid no attention to each other unless someone else was talking to you as a pair.

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・☆.。.:・°

Milan Fashion Week Afterparty, 2025, 11:00 p.m.

The club’s dimmed lights engulfed your vision, the bitter taste of alcohol flooded your taste buds. You changed into a shorter, purple dress, an outtake designed for the same campaign. Your body was sticky from dancing. You exchanged harmless gossip with your fellow ambassadors in amicable manner over some drinks. 

You couldn’t anticipate that during the afterparty, Hyunjin would keep you at arm’s length. He left you for a few minutes at a time and eventually returned to your side during the entirety of the night. You didn’t even talk to each other, not even bickering. His hand lingered on your waist for pictures and friendly conversations with others. He asked you to dance, keeping your act for Donatella’s sake. Hyunjin fetched your drinks for you in a false attempt to look like your ever so chivalrous prince. 

“Princess, you look tired.” He whispered, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “It’s not a good look. Can I take you to your hotel?”

“Gee, thanks, my prince.” You replied, tipsiness making your speech slur. “I don’t need you to take me anywhere.”

“Princess. I mean it. You don’t really know anyone here. I’d rather take you; it’s on my way.” He said, sternly. 

“Hyunjin. I basically don’t even know you either.” You spat. “This is only a gimmick.”

“Look, Y/N. JYP and Donatella would both kill me if anything happened to your bratty ass. Whether you like it or not, you’re coming with me. Complain all you want. Better safe than dead.” He argued. You rolled your eyes and wriggled away from his grip, only for Hyunjin to grab your wrist and yank you back towards him. 

“Hyunjin.” You whispered, aware that whining would draw too much attention to you. “It’s fine. I can stay here. It’s okay, really. I’ll call a taxi when the party’s over.”

“Sorry, what kind of a gentleman would I be if I didn’t escort my princess to her chambers?” He snickered; you rolled your eyes in defeat. 

Hyunjin dragged you away from the party, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, holding you close to his warm, sweaty body. You said your goodbyes distantly. Nobody questioned you, everyone must have assumed you and Hyunjin to be involved as well. 

You managed to divert away from the paparazzi through a secret exit that Hyunjin’s bodyguard was barricading. You had realized why Hyunjin was so adamant for you to leave with him, you had no security with you for the night. An irrevocable mistake from your manager. In your tipsiness, you didn’t think this would be an issue, but you were thankful that he was insistent. You knew that Hyunjin was a pompous asshole, but you were also aware that he didn’t want anything harmful for you, either.  

You entered the black, oversized SUV after him, its cold interior contrasted the heat and humidity of the Milan nightlife. You shivered and Hyunjin took his coat off, throwing it to your side. You didn’t actively accept its warmth, but you didn’t return it either. You didn’t speak to him. He knew where you were going. You had agreed to meet over breakfast the next day, before he returned to Korea, to coordinate the logistics to the music video for your song.

“Can we stop at my hotel first?” He asked the driver. “You can take her afterwards.” The driver silently nodded. You looked over at him. He stared at you blankly and returned to use his phone. You scrolled through social media, until the SUV came to a halt.

“Hyunjin, I need to pee. Can I use your bathroom quickly?” You asked.

“Wow, very princessy of you. You can use the bathroom in the lobby.”

“With this puffy dress? I wouldn’t fit in the stall.” You argued. 

“Ugh. Fine. Wait a few minutes before you come in, though.” He negotiated. You nodded, rolling your eyes. He handed you a keycard.

“We will wait here.” His security guard said, looking back at you. You put on the coat that Hyunjin had left beside you and exited the car.

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・☆.。.:・°

Hyunjin’s Hotel, Milan, 2025, 1:45 a.m.

You entered the hotel with the spare keycard in hand. It was fancy, way fancier than yours. It didn’t surprise you, though. Hyunjin had grown his fame a lot during the last few years. Which is part of why you agreed to this prince and princess gimmick and all of those collaborations despite loathing the guy. He kept you relevant in more ways than one. His fans made your name trend, for better or for worse. They bought your designs just because his face was next to yours in the cover. They streamed your music and sent you gifts and love, in the most part. You were grateful for that. You couldn’t stand the guy, but you admired how fiercely loyal his fans were. Even if you received the occasional death threat from them. 

His floor was one of the last ones, having a gigantic suite all for himself, something that you shamefully saw on social media. When you arrived, there were security guards standing in front of the doors. The female guard patted you down.

“Not to be dramatic, but this is highly offensive to me.” You spat. “Hyunjin gave me access, you know?”

“Mr. Hwang, should I have her sign the NDA now?” The other guard asked, as he opened the door. You laughed.

“Ew, no! This is the Versace princess, Y/N. We’re just business partners.” He spoke.

“Oh! I am so sorry, Miss Y/N.” The guard apologized, a blush creeping into his serious demeanor. 

“Don’t worry. That was hilarious.” You chuckled, patting his shoulder as you entered Hyunjin’s suite. 

The dark night couldn’t even dim the suite’s brightness. The room was adorned with flower arrangements galore. You didn’t even notice Hyunjin’s suitcase, opened and messy next to the couch. The room smelled wonderful, of vanilla and various florals. 

“Wow. This suite is so nice!” You said, looking around it.

“You’re here to use the bathroom and leave, remember?” He spat.

“Sheesh!” 

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・☆.。.:・°

Hyunjin’s Suite, 2025, 2:00 a.m.

Once you washed your hands, you stared at yourself in the mirror. You had retouched your makeup before the afterparty, but it had smudged anyways. Your lipstick was barely visible, your foundation nonexistent and your mascara looked more like eyeliner. 

“Y/N!!” You heard Hyunjin shout. You hurried out, ready to snap at him but you were met with a very preoccupied Hyunjin.

“Hyunjin, what happened?”

“Literally the worst possible thing. Fuck!” 

“Need more info?”

“Fucking hell. We were followed.” He said. “There’s a swarm of paps out there.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah! Ugh. My manager’s talking to yours right now. It seems they didn’t recognize you with my coat on and your hat.” He announced.

“That’s good.”

“No, it isn’t!” He argued. 

“Why?”

“Because they think I’m hooking up with some random girl now!”

“Would you rather they think that you’re hooking up with me?” You protested. “The paps know this isn’t my hotel.”

“Fuck no! I don’t know what’s worse, honestly.” He said, grasping his head. “Shit! If only you would’ve held your pee for like ten minutes! We could have avoided all of this!”

“You were the one who insisted on bringing me with you!” You argued. 

“I didn’t want you here, though!” 

“Okay. It’s okay. I’ll book a room, and I can leave tomorrow morning.” You added, trying to remain cool. “We can just say that I lost my room key at the hotel, and I was too tired or something. And I’ll have the evidence that I stayed here.”

“Wow, the beauty and the brains. You think a hotel like this has vacancy during fashion week?” He asked, sarcastically. 

“I don’t know! Let me call my manager.” 

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・☆.。.:・°

Hyunjin’s Suite, 2025, 2:45 a.m.

“Okay. Fine. I’ll let him know. Thanks. Good night. Sorry, again.” You told your manager before hanging up.

It took forty-five minutes from back-to-back calling your managers and the hotel and your companies to agree that your best move would be to stay the night at Hyunjin’s suite, and you’d have a plan for the morning. You feared the possible outcomes: you could get into a dating scandal and get cancelled, you could break your squeaky-clean reputation and lose all hype, you could lose all your contracts and ambassadorships. But, Hyunjin looked absolutely terrified, pacing back and forth in the living room.

“So?” He asked. “Do we have a plan?” You nodded.

“Well, kind of.” He sat down on the sofa and lowered his head. “I’m staying here for the rest of the night. So, you’ll have to let me borrow some clothes to sleep in. Our managers have a scheduled meeting in a few hours, and they’ll discuss what’s our best bet here. My manager said it’ll probably be one of these. So, he could bribe the hotel to fake a reservation but that could get too messy in the future. Or… we’ll have to play the drunk/sick card. Either I’ll be shitfaced and unable to go alone to my hotel or you be shitfaced and ask me to take care of you… That’s what they came up with. We’ll have the script in the morning.”

You looked out of the window to see paparazzi standing outside with their cameras. You pulled the blinds down.

“Shit. I was so careful too. Fuck!”

“It’ll be okay, Hyunjin. Whatever plan they choose to go with will be the best for both of us. My manager said it’s no big deal and that it was actually good that I was caught alongside you and not some other person. The media thinks we’re really close so it shouldn’t be too hard to explain, okay?” You reassured, he nodded, unconvincingly. 

“Fine. Let’s see what happens. We can’t do shit now, anyways. This is what I get for being nice to you.” He mumbled.

“God, you’re such a prick.” You rolled your eyes. “Look, prince, want me to be honest? In any possible outcome I’ll be faced with the major repercussions. Stop acting like a kid. If we go with the "I’m drunk and he helped me”, why would I get drunk in the first place? I’m a lady; a princess. And you’ll be a hero because you helped me. And, if it’s the other one: ‘Wow, Hyunjin is so sensible. He knows when to ask for help. He’s such a darling boy. And she stayed with him because he’s such a good friend to her.’. Or they’ll call me a whore. We’ll get dating rumors for like a month and everything’ll be alright, okay?”

“Will you just shut up for a second? I can’t even think with all your fucking nonsense.”

“Fine. Fuck you, Hyunjin. You’re an asshole. And I hate the fact that I have to share my place as Versace royalty with someone as superficial and narcissistic as you! I worked my ass off for this and you come in being all pretty and get everything you want!” 

“Oh? So, you think I don’t deserve this? You think I haven’t worked myself to the bone to get to where I am? Princess, you’re so fucking wrong. I’m right where I should be. Stay in your lane. You aren’t any better than me.” He barked at you, with a tone that you had never heard him use. A tone that made you feel young again. It made you want to cry. That’s when you knew that you had gone too far. Your eyes welled up with tears.

His expression softened when he saw you tear up, as if he realized that he had gone to far as well. That you were in this together, whether you liked it or not. He sat back down and sighed. You sat on the floor in front of him, rubbing your glossy eyes and further ruining your intense makeup.

“Why don’t you go shower? We both need to cool off. I’ll get you something to wear.” He spoke up, his voice was gentle. You nodded and stood up, walking towards the bathroom again. “There’s a clean robe in there. You can wear that until I find something for you.”

You peeled your dress off and stepped into the shower. The warm water making you feel better almost instantly. You lathered your body with Hyunjin’s, appropriately convenient, lavender soap, which made you relax a bit. You cleansed your face with his expensive cleanser and washed your hair with the shampoo that smelled like him. A little citrusy for your taste.

You dried yourself off as quickly as you could, becoming aware that he probably needed to shower as well. You placed the soft, pink, fuzzy robe on your body and secured it with a knot. You were met with Hyunjin, sitting in the sofa. 

“Uh… I left some clothes for you on the bed. I don’t have underwear for you so… uh… you can keep the sweats. Your manager called and said that he arranged for someone to bring you a change of clothes in the morning. You can use my skincare, if you want…” He said, awkwardly.

“Thanks.” You replied.

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・☆.。.:・°

Hyunjin’s room, Milan, 2025, 3:45 a.m.

You changed into Hyunjin’s clothes and looked around his room. You spotted the skincare he told you about and smeared into your face; making sure you didn’t use too much. You looked your name up on social media and it seemed that people have caught up that you were, in fact, the person that arrived with Hyunjin. You sighed upon seeing people’s reactions. There were a lot of negative comments, usually about you but also about him. And you suddenly felt bad for him. Fans were asking to send protests to JYP premises against Hyunjin’s freedom to date or to interact with females. You felt guilty for asking to come into his room in the first place.

“Hey.” Hyunjin greeted, entering the room. 

“Hyunjin, I’m sorry for being a bitch and for getting us into this mess. I didn’t mean to.” You sobbed. “I know we don’t get along, but I didn’t want anything to happen to you… or me… or the companies.” Your tears kept running down your cheeks.

“Sheesh, don’t get soft on me just because you feel bad for me.” Hyunjin smirked, in attempts to calm you down. You just kept crying. “Y/N, princess, we’re in this together. You said it, we’re friends to the public so we probably won’t have too many repercussions.”

“Hyunjin, I fucked up so bad.”

“It’s fine, Y/N. We’re basically even friends after this. Shit will work itself out.”  He reassured. “We just need to have each other’s backs here. No fucking anyone up. We’ll own up to our mistakes and everything’ll go as planned. If this fucks things up, it’s fine. Whatever. We’ll keep going.”

You remained quiet.

“You’re really freaking annoying, I mean it…” He added, “but I’d rather be here with you than with anyone else. You’re savvy and things will be okay.”

“Ah… thanks for reassuring me, Hyunjin.” You smiled. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m really grateful that you insisted that I left with you. I was too tipsy to reason at that moment.”

“It’s fine. I don’t want anything to happen to someone that I’m so strangely close to. Like, we’re not friends yet you’re my princess and we have a whole song coming out and a video. And we’ve designed campaigns together. It’s weird. I apologize too; I shouldn’t have screamed.” He chuckled. He sat on the bed beside you.

“I get it. You’re a dick but we’re basically, kind of, family…”

“Ew, no. We’re not siblings.”

“We don’t have to be siblings! I could be married to one of your siblings or something.”

“I’m an only child!” He corrected you. 

“Oh… me too.” You said. “Maybe I could marry one of your members, then.”

“Gross, no.”

“Well, we’re back to siblings again.” 

“Maybe you could be my ward, like Morgana.” He suggested.

“Morgana was supposed to marry Arthur, though. I think.” You countered.

“But… uh…okay. We’re engaged, then.” He joked. “But it’s an arranged marriage and we don’t get married in the end.”

“Fine by me, my betrothed.” You joked back. He laughed. “This is so stupid, my dearest princess. We’re so dumb.” He yawned.

“We are.” You agreed. “Truce? We’re friends now?” You extended your hand to him. He shook your hand in his, significantly bigger, hand. 

“Friends and pledged to be married, don’t forget.” He reminded. You pulled your hand away.

“How can I forget? You’re very obnoxious.”

“We just called a truce, c’mon.” 

“Sorry, force of habit.” You apologized. “So… can we sleep now?” He nodded. 

“I’ll take the couch.” He volunteered.

“No, don’t worry. I’ll take it.” You said as you stood up.

“Please, as if I’ll let my betrothed, fake or not, sleep in an uncomfortable floral deathbed.” He said. 

“Are you okay with sharing the bed, then, my prince?” You asked, he gulped.

“Y-yeah. But no funny business.” He smirked.

“Please. The bed’s big enough to fit your security guard in here with us. You won’t even notice I’m in the bed.”

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・☆.。.:・°

Hyunjin’s bed, Milan, 2025, 5:00 a.m.

You tossed and turned, being unable to sleep despite your body screaming for you to do so. You heard Hyunjin’s soft snores next to you, scooting closer to you with every passing minute until you could feel his warm breath against you. You were unable to turn because you’d be face to face with Hyunjin. You felt an arm snake over your waist, Hyunjin pulled himself closer to you, closing the gap between your bodies. 

You stiffened upon feeling his touch. Your mind raced with questionings of how you despised and envied him the day before and now, you’re in his bed with Hyunjin cuddled up to you. His breath tickled your neck, making you feel goosebumps. When you started to relax into his touch, you felt a hardness press against your back, and you prayed that it was just Hyunjin’s knee. Until it throbbed. And your body stiffened once again. You knew it was normal for guys to get erections when they slept, but you definitely did not expect to feel Hyunjin’s erection pressed up against you any time soon. 

You shifted a bit to look at him. Hyunjin was, in fact, still asleep, his plump lips were parted, you scanned his face. You knew why Donatella and every other woman in this planet was obsessed with him. He was beautiful, a beauty for the ages. It was hard to deny that, especially when he was even prettier up close. Not many people look that effortlessly gorgeous without a silver of makeup on. The type of beauty you hoped to be. Still, you knew that you needed to be decorated to achieve it. 

Hyunjin stirred in his sleep, making you look forward again. You grabbed your phone from the night table and scrolled through your messages and emails. The reunion had already taken place, your manager updated you on a summary on the decisions they made. They would issue a notice about the situation, instead of having us talk to the press about it. He wrote that the situation would be taken care of before afternoon. And ended the text saying that he wants us to rest after such a stressful night. You dismissed the messages, relieved that they found a way to manage the situation. You didn’t mind if your reputation needed adjustments after the statement. You were just glad that things were handled. 

“Princess?” Hyunjin whispered, his voice was deeper and raspy.

“Yes?” 

“Is everything okay?” He asked, maintaining his sleeping position, cuddled next to you.

“Yeah. Just checking my messages. Our managers worked things out. They’re releasing a statement at noon.” You said. He buried his face into the back of your neck and sighed in relief.

You could still feel his boner pressing into you, but you tried to ignore it. However, when Hyunjin pressed his lips to the back of your neck, you couldn’t disregard it. You tensed up again.

“My bad, princess.” Hyunjin apologized. “You just smell really good; really comforting.” You shivered when you felt his breath as he spoke, the rasp of his voice rang in your ear.

“You’re just sleep deprived. Try to rest up.” You diverted.

“You know, I always imagined having you in my bed…” Oh. “Still, I didn’t think it would happen like this.”

“What are you talking about, Hyunjin?”

“I don’t know about you, but I think you’re magnetic, princess.” He explained. “You’re so quick-witted. That’s so hot.” O H. And, for the weird part, you were actually enjoying this. You felt goosebumps on your skin, you rubbed your thighs together in order to satiate the ache between your legs. “And… I think you feel similarly about me.” He pressed his bulge harder against your ass. You moaned at the feeling, quickly covering your mouth. 

“Fuck, you’re annoying.” You said as you turned to face him. He laid there, staring at you expectantly with an annoying smirk. Checkmate. You crashed your lips against his, harshly. 

“God, if you weren’t so hot. I think I’d hate you for real.” You said in between kisses. 

“We both know that’s not true.” He interrupted the kiss. “You’re equally attracted to my personality. Admit it.”

“Shut up.” You said. “You look better when you’re quiet.” You continued to kiss him. 

His plump lips against you made you feel electricity. He was a messy kisser, desperately biting your lip and dancing with your tongue. He moved his hands from your waist to your hips and up to your waist again. 

“Now, I’ve seen you staring at my tits before…” You teased. A light blush perked onto his cheek. “You can touch them.”

He took no time in obliging, hands groping at your mounds in a harsh manner. You smirked into the kiss when he moaned at the feeling of your soft breasts and hard nipples below the fabric of your shirt.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.” He moaned at the overstimulation of sensations he was experiencing. “Fuck. I’m so glad you got us into this mess.” 

He resumed making out with you, chaotically and intricate, just like him. His mouth was hot against yours, making you both moan at the friction of your lips moving together. Hyunjin shifted to be on top of you, and you were able to see his beautiful face, illuminated by the dim lamp. He took his shirt off, leaving his lean yet muscular torso visible to you. 

You took your time admiring him, and he seemed to enjoy the attention. His hands toyed with the hem of your shirt, silently asking to take it off. You indulged him, lifting up your arms so he was able to remove it from you. It was his turn to stare at you and you liked it too. 

Hyunjin suddenly dove in, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth; both of you moaning at the contact. He ground his hips against yours and you followed suit, in search for some friction where you needed him most. His teeth softy nibbled on your pebbled bud. You moaned at the feeling of Hyunjin’s teeth tugging at your sensitive nipple. He released your bud with a pop and didn’t even say a word before giving you other breast the same treatment. You moaned louder than you should have, the feeling of Hyunjin’s delicious lips on your breasts, the cool air against your wet nipple made you a whining mess. After an agonizingly long time, Hyunjin released your other nipple.

“Fuck. I could do that all day.” He groaned. “Will you let me suck your tits every time we see each other, my princess?” You nodded desperately, instantly taking a liking to his pet name for you. “I can’t wait to eat you out.” 

He trailed wet kisses down your stomach until he reached the waistband of your sweatpants. He looked at you and you nodded in approval. Your sweats and underwear were quickly pulled down by Hyunjin’s expert hands. 

“You’re so wet, princess.” He teased your folds with two fingers. “I knew you wanted me as much as I wanted you.”  You moaned when he inserted those two slender fingers inside of you, your damp folds sucked him in perfectly. He dragged his fingers in and out of you a few times before slipping them out. He licked your juices from his fingers.

“You taste heavenly, my princess.” He noted, lowering his head to be face your glistening folds. Hyunjin dove in as soon as he said that. 

Hyunjin ate you out like a starved man, like nobody had ever eaten you out before. He was messy yet cautious, he listened carefully to your reactions and rapidly identified what made you feel good. Hyunjin took long, slow licks through your folds, making sure to savor you, making sure that you moaned as loud as you could. Hearing your moans satisfied him like nothing else. Hyunjin sucked your clit, earning spasms from you. He teased your folds with his tongue and fingers and held your hand as you came around them with a prayer of his name.

“Your moans are making me ascend.” He said, “I think I’m addicted to you.” 

You could barely even speak; your emotions were running wild. You hadn’t felt raw pleasure in so long, your need to be in control didn’t allow you to let go like this.

“Let me take care of you, princess.” He asked, gesturing to his hard cock. You nodded.

“Y-yes, Hyunjin. Please. I want to make you feel good.” You moaned, as you reached to tug at his pajama bottoms. He stopped you.

“No, princess. I want to make you feel good.” He corrected. “This is about you.” 

You watched as Hyunjin lowered his bottoms and underwear simultaneously, staring in awe at the breathtaking sight in front of you. Hyunjin’s cock was impressive, more so than you expected. He was long and girthy in an ideal way, one that wouldn’t hurt when he entered you. His cock was veiny, dripping a more-than-generous amount of precum. He spread the pre-cum through his shaft and pumped his cock a few times. He grabbed a condom from his bag to which you shook your head.

“Can I go in?” He asked once his cock was coated with precum. 

“Of course, my prince.” You begged. “Please. I need you inside me.”

“How could I ever make you wait, then?” He asked, rhetorically, as he lined up with your entrance. 

Your folds welcomed him, your wetness engulfed his cock so sweetly; despite that, he was still a stretch. Hyunjin went in slow, moaning as he bottomed inside you. You clenched around him impatiently, needing to feel some friction. His lips found yours again after what seemed like ages, more desperately than before. You could still taste yourself on his mouth and all he wanted to consume was you. He needed to feel you in every way possible, just as much as you needed to feel him. You kept clenching around him because he still hadn’t moved. 

“Hyune, please move. I want to feel you.” You cried. 

“Fuck, are you always this impatient?” He moaned as he thrusted in and out of you. You shook your head, barely even registering what he said. “Am I the only one that makes you this desperate, princess?”

You moaned at his words, feeling filthy for even being in this position in the first place. He kept a slow pace, groaning lowly every time he bottomed out, face buried in your chest. Hyunjin sat up and helped you put your leg up to his shoulder; making you feel every vein of his cock inside of you. You both moaned at the new feeling of him being impossibly deeper inside of you. Your bodies connecting like they hadn’t connected before. Even Hyunjin didn’t have any snarky comment to make about how that felt. Your moans grew more uncontrollable with each erratic thrust he made. 

Hyunjin took his time to make you feel good, his thrusts were sultry and calculated one moment and harsh and erratic the next, always attentive to how you reacted. His hand sneaked between your bodies to rub soft circles on your clit. You moaned at the contact, begging him for more friction. He lowered your legs, and you wrapped them around his waist. His thrusts grew sloppy once your moaning increased, louder than he ever expected.

“I should have done this a while ago, huh?” He remarked while panting. His warm fingers felt glorious against your swollen bud. You couldn’t even form a coherent thought, let alone a comeback for him.

“Fuck.” You let out after a particularly deep thrust, that made your insides flutter. “Hyune, I’m going to cum.”

“Are you going to cum around me, princess?” He groaned, speeding up his thrusts. 

“Y-yes.” Was the last word you let out before you came. 

Your orgasm took over you in the form of a spasm, you clenched your cunt and simultaneously tightened your legs’ grip on Hyunjin’s waist. Hyunjin came right after you with a guttural moan of your name. Not even being able to pull out before he was shooting warm, thick spurts of cum inside of your cunt. You knew that you shouldn’t have had sex without a condom, and it was even more dumb of you to let Hyunjin come inside. But, in the moment, you weren’t really reasoning.

“Fuck, princess.” Hyunjin panted. He kissed your lips and looked down to your cunt. He stared at it in awe. “My cum looks so good inside of you.” He dragged his fingers through your wet folds. “Fuck. I think I might be in love with you.” He mumbled that last part before kissing you again and collapsing next to you. 

You shifted to your side to stare at his beautiful features, so real and so raw next to you. He caressed your hand that laid on his stomach and sweetly placed a kiss on top of your head. 

“Sorry for cumming inside. This is really not like me…” He said, reaching for some wipes on the night table. 

“It’s okay. I could’ve stopped you if I didn’t want you to…” You reassured, flinching as Hyunjin wiped your cunt with the cold, wet wipe. He smiled at you and placed a kiss on your overstimulated, clean cunt.

“I liked this.” He said, a blush creeping into his cheeks. “I mean… ugh… I like us getting along instead of fighting.”

“Oh, yeah. I’d much rather do this than argue with you.” You chuckled.

“Glad to know we’re on the same page, my princess.” He grabbed your hand and placed a kiss on it. 

“Crazy to think that we didn’t come here to have sex, and we still did.” He laughed, wrapping a protective arm around you, snuggling his face into your neck.

“Fate has some weird shit going on.” You replied. “If this hadn’t happened, we’d be eating breakfast and arguing over who’s Donatella’s favorite monarch.” He laughed.

“I’m just glad that it happened.” He spoke. “Can…we do this more often?”

“Like, having sex… or are you asking me out?” You inquired. 

“Whichever you prefer.”

“Sure, then.”

“To which one?” He asked.

“To either.” You answered.

“Just to be clear, I’ve always wanted to get to know you. I’m not asking you out just because we had sex.” He clarified, staring into your eyes. You kissed him.

“Let’s see how things go, my prince.” You replied, cuddling up to him, basking in his warmth next to you.

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・☆.。.:・°

Korea, 2025, 10:00 a.m.

“Breaking news: Versace Prince and Princess caught in a scandal! Hyunjin and Y/N were seen entering Hyunjin’s hotel after the Versace Fashion Week Afterparty last weekend.  More interestingly, the couple were seen eating lunch the morning after. The pair were also spotted yesterday holding hands at a café near the idol’s workspace, right after their companies denied any romantic involvement between the two of them. Talk about relationship goals! We wish the Versace monarchs a life full of love and we cannot wait for their next move!” You read, snickering at the article’s writing. Hyunjin laughed.

“We’re in so much trouble, huh, princess?”

“Who cares?” You replied placing a kiss on his cheek, making him chuckle.

You received a call from your manager.

“I don’t know if you’re with Hwang or not but ratings on your songs are through the roof now! Keep it going!” He said excitedly. You chuckled.

Oh, how the tables have turned for everyone’s favorite monarchs. 

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・ Copyright Ⓒ 2025 by deadpanjisung All rights reserved. ☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・

[smoureart]

I watched critical role’s wildemount wildlings campaign and absolutely loved it!! Everyone’s character was delightful and toff mazery’s designs are so full of charm, it made me want to try drawing the campers in the tlovm style! 🏕️✨

[datshitrandom]

Maybe Happy Ending | 78th Annual Tony Awards | June 08, 2025 | 📸 by Mike Coppola, Arturo Holmes, Jemal Countess, John Nacion

Best Musical Best Performance by an Actor in a Leading Role in a Musical (Darren Criss) Best Direction of a Musical (Michael Arden) Best Book of a Musical (Will Aronson and Hue Park) Best Original Score (Will Aronson and Hue Park) Best Scenic Design of a Musical (Dane Laffrey and George Reeve)

[cherspastries]

Okay, but here's another question... What jobs do you think the drivers would have of they weren't a driver? Or what they would major in? (loved the story btw!! :))

YOU DON’T GET WHAT YOU WISH FOR,

YOU GET WHAT YOU WORK FOR.

WORK FOR IT

2025 Grid x Reader

SUMMARY 𐙚 What jobs I think the drivers would have if they weren’t in F1. Part 1, where I talk about the reader’s job, is here! I will be referencing this so I advise reading it first.

WARNINGS 𐙚 N/A!

WORD COUNT 𐙚 2.9K

A/N 𐙚 It was really hard to decide for all of these guys. Some of them do have doubles because I couldn’t think of anything else 😬 Maybe a university AU with some of the younger drivers is needed now. Love ♥︎ Cher

DIRECTORY | MASTERLIST | REQUESTS: OPEN

RedBull ෆ

Max Verstappen

Motorsports

Unfortunately I’m a firm believer that if it’s not F1 for Max Verstappen, it’s gonna be a different motorsport. He has racing so deeply imbedded in his soul that I just can’t imagine him doing anything else. I also think that he could potentially be a streamer in another universe, but I think he’s a racer first. Imagine MotoGP Max, or maybe even Nascar Max. He loves the thrill and that’s not something he’ll abandon. So, if he doesn’t make it to F1, there’s lots of other options for this boy.

Let’s go with MotoGP. Imagine the badass pairing of a bartender and a motorcyclist. It’s quite literally a match made in heaven. Bonus points if the reader also rides motorcycles, so they can go out on adventures together. Or, if that’s not your style, he loves to have you ride on the back with your arms around his waist and all.

Yuki Tsunoda

Chef

This guy loves his food, which leads me to believe that culinary school is in his alternative future. I think Yuki could live it up as a chef that experiments with food from all corners of the world— Except America. He refuses to partake in the oily food from America, as we’ve all learned.

And hey, a chef and a seamstress isn’t exactly the expected duo, but it could work. Maybe you’re the one making the uniforms for his restaurant, and designing the logos and such. Even if he’s just in the kitchen working his magic, he still needs to look good to represent his business! It works, okay?

Mercedes ෆ

George Russell

Politician

There was a video where drivers made up what another driver would do if not F1, and a lot of people suggested George was a politician, and I 100% agree. While he said he’d be a farmer, I think he has a talent that shouldn’t go to waste. He’s a very convincing fellow that has a knack for following the rules and maybe even being a bit bossy. He exudes the vibes of someone who is a great leader, so he’d likely be a pretty decent politician.

I don’t really think your jobs intertwine much, but that’s just fine. Graphic design doesn’t have the biggest role to play in politics, but he always tries to find a place to squeeze your work in. Besides, it’s not like they have to match up perfectly anyway. You both have your own respective lives, and the life that you share together. He’s still super supportive nonetheless.

Kimi Antonelli

Scientist

Scientist Kimi! I don’t know why, but I can see it. I think if we want to be more specific, he’d study pharmacology, but I can really picture him working with chemicals in some way. I need to see Kimi in a lab coat and goggles messing around with chemicals. Maybe he’s not the best and maybe it blows up in his face, but he’s having a lot of fun. Maybe he’ll accidentally create a whole new element.

And he has his tutor girlfriend to stand by his side and support him. You’re there to offer knowledge and help in all fields. An intelligent girl matched with an equally intelligent boy is a nearly dangerous duo, and people acknowledge that. All of his friends are a little scared. You have the potential to someday rule the world— But with your childish smile and his cute curls nobody would take you seriously. Maybe it’s best you stick to science.

Ferrari ෆ

Charles Leclerc

Architect

An architect and a fashion designer. Yes, this seems about right. You’re both designing, just in your own way. I’d like to think you each contribute and help each other with the designing process, and it’s always easy to tell what aspects were thrown forth by the other person. Suddenly he’s bringing math equations into your designs, and you’re bringing little details and trends to his.

Charles himself said he’d like to be an architect, but if I were to assign him something from my own mind, I’d probably say music. It’s clear it’s something he’s very passionate about, and he’s very musically talented too. I can picture the reader sitting with him and resting her head on his shoulder while he plays.

Lewis Hamilton

Fashion designer

Yet another obvious choice. Maybe him and Charles’ girlfriend can be friends. Anyway, a makeup artist and a fashion designer kind of go hand in hand. You’re in the fashion industry, and you both work with specific clientele. Maybe you’re even a package deal. Celebrities hire one of you, and they end up hiring the other too. Just for fun.

I think this choice is obvious because it’s clearly that Lewis has a talent for fashion. His work with the Met Gala, and his day to day wear just proves that. He’s always dressed to the tens in my opinion, and I think he should spread that knowledge with the world. He’s a genius!

McLaren ෆ

Oscar Piastri

Engineer

Yes, Oscar’s expressed before that he would go into engineering if it weren’t for his current career. It makes sense. The boy’s smart, and his family has a history with racing so it’s not like mechanical engineering is all that far off. I can even see him being a track engineer. I think he’d have some decent strategies to share with a team, and would be smart enough to handle all the numbers and stats.

Now, it’s not really like his occupation matches up with yours either, but again… I think that’s okay. If he was an F1 engineer, I could see him taking you along with him, so as a food critic you’re getting to travel the world and experience dishes from different regions. So maybe in that sense, you’re perfect for each other. Who knows.

Lando Norris

DJ

Similar to George, a lot of the other drivers said that if he wasn’t a racing pilot, he should be a DJ. Esteban Ocon himself said that Lando got up behind the booth and made some decent beats, so with a bit more practice he could definitely do it. He also has the necessary party boy energy to pull off being a DJ, so it makes a lot of sense in the long run.

I’m not sure how well a teacher and DJ would work, but I think that’s ultimately part of the charm. You’re total opposites. One of you is quiet and collected while the other is loud and chaotic and it makes you relationship consistently interesting and engaging for you both. If you were paired with people exactly like yourselves, you’d probably get bored after awhile. Each of you brings something new to the table.

Aston Martin ෆ

Fernando Alonso

Football / Soccer

This was hard because, much like Max, it was hard to see Fernando doing anything but racing. I was almost tempted to keep him in motorsports as well, but I chose not to because I remember Fernando saying he liked football, and that just makes a lot of sense in my mind. I definitely don’t think he’d play football as long as he raced for F1, so after he reaches a certain age he retires, but I can see him pursuing this career at some point.

The life of a football player with a wedding planner wife is rather domestic. You’re constantly doting on him and taking care of him, treating your retired lover as if he’s old and decaying. He insists that he can do everything on his own, but he does like the attention nonetheless, so Fernando sits back and lets you pamper him like he’s your princess. Hey, whatever keeps the man busy.

Lance Stroll

Business man

I was unsure about this one, but I think considering that his dad is a business man, it makes sense for Lance to follow a similar destiny. Maybe he also ends up owning his own F1 team, who knows? I think he’s a very diplomatic guy, even if he’s somewhat introverted. That doesn’t mean he’s rude or anything, so talking business would come along just fine for Lance! He’s a very smart guy. I’m picturing him as a CEO of sorts.

He doesn’t play about you, either. You get to act as his sugar baby for a while, even though you make plenty of money yourself. He loves getting to tell you to buy whatever you want using his card, and he loves spoiling you. If you need new equipment for writing, he’ll buy it. If you need help getting your books published, he’ll talk to people for you. If you need help advertising, he’s on it. Lance is there to assist you in everything. He’s your partner in crime!

Alpine ෆ

Pierre Gasly

Football / Soccer

Okay I KNOW, this is unoriginal, but if you look at Pierre’s instagram there’s lots of photos of him playing football and I think it just makes sense to me. He kind of has the appropriate build for one too? Muscular, but also very strong legs and a good runner. I can’t really describe it, just trust me.

And, since he’s still in a sport, you can continue to be his social media manager and like everything related to him. People are still stunned to find out that Pierre runs his accounts and is the one viewing everything, but they’re even more stunned to find out that a majority of the time you’re the one actually liking the posts because every time you see anything related to him you giggle uncontrollably and spam the like button. Still a perfect, dynamic duo.

Franco Colapinto

Journalism

This guy likes his gossip. Franco’s charismatic enough to be able to easily interview people, and I firmly believe in that. He loves catching up on all the latest gossip and posting about it online for everyone to see. It doesn’t matter if it’s none of his business, because he’s gonna make it his business. Either way, he tends to be fairly respectful about what he posts. Even if he wants to phrase it in the most dramatic way possible, Franco sticks to the facts. And what he assumes are facts.

He likes to work on his pieces while he’s in your shop. He’s usually sitting behind the counter while you tend to customers, typing away on his newest report back to his boss. Every now and then he gets a few weird looks, almost like people recognize him, but they aren’t quite sure if it’s actually him or not.

Williams ෆ

Carlos Sainz

Boxer

Ohhhh… Okay sorry let me compose myself. Carlos gives off these casual aggressive vibes that tell you he’s not someone to be messed with, but also he’s a very sweet guy deep down. He loves his job, but he makes sure to remain unbiased and sportsmanly throughout, because it’s important to ensure that your opponent knows they did a great job too. He always said he’d remain an athlete if he was to do something other than F1, and while boxing probably isn’t on the top of his list, I can see it happening.

A boxer and a baker. It’s very much giving cute wife who bosses her strong husband around like it’s no big deal. Sure, he’s a champion in the ring, but when Carlos comes home he has to listen to you first. You’re the one wearing the pants in this relationship. He doesn’t mind, either. It’s nice to come home and be ordered around by you.

Alex Albon

Golfer

Vet gf and golfer bf. Makes perfect sense to me. He’s out there enjoying a nice day on the fresh green grass while you’re taking care of very cute patients. It’s a win for you both, and at the end of the day you both get to come home and relax together and talk about your days.

I think golf suits Alex. I know he always jokes about being terrible about it, especially in comparison to his actual girlfriend (The beautiful that is Lily Muni He) but if he had years of experience like he does with F1, I think he’d be really talented! It’s something that he loves already, so it makes sense.

Visa Cash App Racing Bulls ෆ

Liam Lawson

Actor

Uhm, hello have you seen him acting in the VCARB tiktoks? Perfect. But also I think he’d be typecasted as a stereotypical teen in the 90’s. He looks young enough, and that’s exactly how he dresses and acts. He’d be very charming with younger audiences due to his boyish charm. He just needs to brush up on those acting skills a bit and then we have the perfect actor.

And hey, you’re an actress. It fits perfectly. Maybe the two of you meet on set. Maybe you’re even casted to play lovers, and then it just ends up being that you come out of the experience actually dating. Who’s to say if it actually works out. Lots of actors say it’s hard to date your co-worker, but you guys would have to disagree, because you’re going strong!

Isack Hadjar

Physicist

Isack’s dad is a physicist! I think it would be cute if he followed in his footsteps. Most F1 drivers do follow in their parent’s footsteps, especially their dad, but Isack didn’t. However, imagining a universe where he did is interesting. He’d probably have the brain for it, he’d just have to dedicate a lot of his time to school, which might be hard.

A physicist and a photographer. I think you guys both like to discuss your more nerdy occupations. You get to rant about photo editing and camera settings, and he gets to rant about astrophysics and a lot of stuff you don’t entirely understand, but you enjoy hearing nonetheless. This is my favorite duo, never stop being a nerd.

Kick Sauber ෆ

Nico Hülkenberg

Male model

Nobody can convince me otherwise. He has the perfect face for modeling. Ruggedly handsome with a slight stubble and nice hair. I almost gave Carlos this role, but I think Nico is perfect for a model. If he hasn’t already received offers, he should, because he’s 37 and he looks fantastic still.

A model and a sommelier is a great duo, actually. You both have jobs seen as sophisticated. You’re a killer duo, the type of couple that can kill with your looks alone. He’s always impressed by your extensive knowledge, and you’re impressed by just how beautiful he is. You like to show him off at events you’re invited to, and he likes to do the same himself. Power couple. End of sentence.

Gabriel Bortoleto

Sports commentator

Not sure of this one either. I think Gabi would be a very fun commentator, always making silly quips and witty jokes that draws the audience in while retaining that necessary sports knowledge. At first he’d definitely let the other commentators do a lot of the talking, but once he’s warmed up to the environment, you hear him just as much as you hear the others. There’s no more hiding!

I think a streamer and a commentator is a silly duo as well. Maybe sometimes you stream sports and commentate it to mimic your boyfriend, which he always pretends to be offended by, but he thinks it’s adorable in reality. He likes showing up on your streams too. I love them. I’m jealous of you, reader.

Haas ෆ

Oliver Bearman

Male model

ALRIGHT I KNOW. I’m being unoriginal again, but have you SEEN Ollie?! He’s absolutely model material as well. Tall, handsome, fit. He might need some training on how to pose and walk a runway, but he’ll get it down eventually. I can also see him being like a hand model for watches and jewelry and such. He has very nice, soft hands that are still very masculine.

A painter and a model are you SERIOUS? I know I wrote it but I’m also fangirling because wow. He can quite literally be your muse. He doesn’t even have to sit there, because there’s thousands of beautiful pictures online for you to use. Although it does make the experience a lot more special when he offers to be your live model and pose for you. It’s like something only you get to see. Yeah… Huge fan of this.

Esteban Ocon

Comic book editor

PLEASE he would have a BLAST. He gets to read all these superhero comics, and he actually gets to contribute to the process of making them. I don’t know I just love the idea of a superhero fanatic, especially someone who loves Spiderman like Estie, getting to edit the scripts for comics. He’d be so into it, too. Like “this idea is unoriginal, so you should go for something like this” because he’s already read so many comics out there that he can recite plot lines from a lot of them.

And trust that I am a huge fan of goddess girlfriend and loser boyfriend. A model with a comic book editor? Nobody would see it coming. Imagine pulling up to the red carpet, cameras flashing as a tall, handsome figure emerges from the limo and it’s… Oh, it’s just some guy they’ve never seen before, but you look so happy that it’s impossible to harbor any judgement. It’s adorable how much you two love each other.

[thosewickedlovelies]

A guide to writing fics set in museums / with a museum worker character

Hey hi hello it’s your local museum worker here, offering you some insight and tips to writing museum-related fics! This is primarily organized as a list of different jobs you could have in a museum and what their duties entail. This post might also be useful to you if you’re considering working in museums and want to know What Goes On In There. Let’s go!

For simplicity/fic-writing purposes, I would divide museums into 2 very rough groups: large national or city museums that Have Money (think the Smithsonian or British Museums, or the Chicago Field Museum or the Royal Armouries Museum in Leeds); and smaller local museums. These could be local industry and culture/history-of-our town museums, historic houses, or  really niche subject museums run by One Person With A Passion.

Big national museums have a fuckton of staff and money (museums can never have enough money. But these places are very well-off compared to somewhere small that might always be hustling and writing grant applications). If you work here you’re likely to have a specific role in a particular department, and you probably won’t do much outside this role (ex., if you work in collections management, you probably won’t also design exhibits)

The smaller the museum, the more varied your workload will be/the more likely you are to be doing a little bit of everything. You’re probably organizing collections storage, manning the front desk, and desperately running fundraising efforts, all at once. 

To this end, smaller museums are more likely to be closed one or two days a week- you’ll be there, probably cleaning displays or managing storage, but visitors won’t be.

A lot of (most?) universities also have museums, so a college town setting is also doable. But the same big vs small museum disparity is still possible! At Penn State University, for example, the Palmer Art Museum is its own (recently redone iirc) building in the center of campus with a lovely plaza out front, while the Matson Museum of Anthropology is uhhhhh a couple classrooms in the Anthropology Department (which they’re currently rebuilding tbf, so we’ll see what they’ve done with it in 2025).

Types of Jobs

Curator

The one museum job that everyone can name. Nominally the person in charge. Probably laments that their job is way more admin than fun hands-on stuff now.

Actually this is the role I have the least knowledge of, but I think that’s partially because this job might vary the most from place to place? Structural organization can vary a lot between institutions, but I think the higher up you get in any field, the more your job tends to consist of meetings/overseeing, designating, and ~liaising~

A list of things a curator might do:

Planning or approving events and fundraisers, schmoozing with donors and members at said events, approving or designing a schedule of exhibits, publish outreach/advertising or research materials, oversee hiring, approve new object acquisitions (or de-acquisitions), generally make sure that the museum is working within the scope of its mission and if necessary, change or refine their mission

The curator might not necessarily control a museum’s funds; in this case they’ll liaise with the people who do, likely a Board of Executives or Board of Trustees. Once they get the money from these people, though, they could potentially redistribute it as they see fit.

 If you work in a fuckoff museum like the BM, you could also be the curator of a specific department, arranged by overarching subject, geographic area, time period, or even object type (eg Curator of Archaeobotany, Curator of Korean Collections, curator of coins from the medieval period). These categories can be more or less specific depending on what kind of holdings your museum has. I think these types of curators would still be able to do interesting things, as they aren’t the ones who Oversee The Whole Place.

You can also be an assistant or associate curator, like being an assistant manager.

Education/Engagement

These are the people who design fun extra activities (esp for kids) in the galleries or relevant events/workshops/lectures the public can attend. They might be called Engagement/Education Officer or Events Manager or anything similar

Again, the bigger the museum you work at, the more specific your role is likely to be. You might focus on web content/outreach and social media, manage the ‘friends/members of the museum’ program, or engage with shareholders, etc

Or you might do things like develop content and events to engage adult audiences. Workshops or lectures connected to new exhibits, after-hours visits. These people are also probably the ones with an eye on accessibility- you’ve probably seen advertisements for museums’ early or late hours for older visitors, or ‘quiet hours’ for people who might be overstimulated by normal museum hubbub, or tactile workshops designed for visually impaired folks.

I think most places would try to have someone specific for kids activities at the very least. They’ll be designing little activities or dress-up stations for the galleries, kiddie mascots or scavenger hunt trail kind of things, as well as, potentially, activities for any digital elements in the museum. They probably also coordinate school visits and act as a tour guide for classes, and will lead the kids in specific workshops or lessons in classrooms attached to the museum.

As a note on technology- some people would probably say that integrating digital elements into exhibits is the ~next big thing~, that museums have to get with the times in this regard, but opinions vary. Big science and technology museums are the most likely to have the most digital and techy elements in their exhibits, so if this is your setting, your character could also be a generic “tech person”. I would go so far as to say the smaller/more local the museum, the less technology you’re likely to have, but smaller museums are able to get grants, some of them potentially for specifically this type of thing, so it’s totally possibly that they have a few tablets with integrated activities, or some other Digital/Screen Thing.

Engagement Officers are probably the most likely people to be drafted for out-of-hours events, so that’s a potentially fun thing for your character to do. Some museums, particularly bigger ones, have event spaces attached that anybody can rent out, for weddings, galas, markets, etc, so they might also take care of these bookings as well.

Exhibit Design

This role has a lot of nebulous terms: exhibit coordinator, design constructor, exhibit programmer- but these are the people who design the exhibits. They’ll come up with a theme or narrative, a design scheme, choose the objects, write the text. They’ll probably come up with some marketing material as well, that matches the design scheme, or they’ll liaise with the marketing people who will.

These people might not be as familiar with the collections as the collections management folk (below), depending on how strictly divided your roles are, so they’ll likely consult with the collections people on choosing objects for a particular exhibit or theme (they say that good exhibit design builds an exhibit from the objects up, but I digress).

These people will also direct and participate in the install and deinstall (the actual terms) of exhibits- putting the objects on the right plinths/stands and arranging everything just so in the cases. Genuinely there’s a lot of psychology behind exhibit design- colors, lighting, the way you might design an exhibit to be navigated vs the path people will actually take through the gallery, people’s sight lines and where their eyes go first, how the display of any given object affects people’s perception of the importance of that object. Fascinating stuff, many books on the subject. 

There are also a lot of accessibility concerns to be considered here- how bright is the gallery, how large is your display text, at what height is the central eyeline of your cases?

Museums often loan objects to and from each other’s collections, so if you’re building an exhibit and you’d really like to include X type of object but your museum doesn’t have any, you can borrow some from another museum (this isn’t necessarily a guarantee- museums are allowed to say no to these requests, but I think manners would dictate that they should have a good reason)

Museums sometimes tour whole exhibitions as well- the objects, the text placards, maybe even the stands for super special or fragile items- and exhibit coordinator people are the ones who would handle those arrangements.

Potentially good opportunities for angst stories here- wow things come to life at your museum, you fall in love with a statue but oh no it’s only at your museum for three months

Collections Care

People who work in Collections Management have the most direct contact with the museum objects themselves. You probably work here if you prefer objects to people. When a museum gets new material, these are the people involved. They might not always initiate acquisitions, and the final approval is probably down to the relevant curator, but 98% of the time they’d be consulted (I hope).

A mind-boggling statistic is that most museums only have like 10% of their collections on display at any given time. Yeah. Forreal lol. But collections folk will know where the other 90% is and what’s in it (particularly the longer they’ve been there). 

There’s usually a head Collections Manager. Other workers might be a Collection Assistant/Associate, Collections Officer (we like calling people Officers for some reason), Registrar, or some variant of these depending on the specific flavor of your duties. 

Main job duties can be divided amongst documentation and database work, organization and storage of objects, and lite conservation. Just how much/how technical the conservation work depends on your own training, but also on the size/funding of your museum. The more money, the more likely your museum is to have its own lab with people specifically trained as conservators. More on them later. 

Here’s what happens when a museum gets new stuff!:

Ideally, it goes to a ‘quarantine zone’ first. This is a separate space or room where the objects can relax for a few weeks to a few months (ultimate best practice is actually a year, but, you know. that’s a long time) to ensure that they’re not harboring anything icky (bugs, mold, etc) that will infect the rest of the collections. It’s ideally super-sealed and climate-controlled, but the primary feature should be that it’s away from the main collections store.

Collections folk do the paperwork. They’ll give each individual object a unique number (following their preexisting system that will allow it to be identified distinct from all the other objects in the collection). They’ll create a ‘collections record’ for the object- documentation containing any and all information about the object. This includes the accession paperwork (everything that says ‘we legally own this now’); provenance info (all previous owners and everywhere else the object has been in its life); measurements and description (in painful detail); and conservation history and concerns (ie ‘there’s a crack in the side so pick up with care’, ‘this was repaired in the 70s so that glue is gonna fall apart any day now’).

(I'll say as a fic writer that this would be an great time to wax poetic over a beautiful statue or painting; you can’t write “This golden crown deserved to be worn by a great king, or maybe by that broody Roman general in the painting in Gallery B” in the collections paperwork, but you can think it.)

For fiction’s sake, your collections records could be either paper or digital, but in an ideal world a museum would have both setups, for security’s sake. So you’d fill out some long forms and/or input all the information to the digital collections management system (‘the CMS’, or referred to by your specific software’s name, as there are many out there). The CMS is not a static archive, but rather a living register that’s updated every time an object is interacted with. The object records also include where an object is at any given time (‘normally in Case E in the Fancypants Gallery, currently in Conservation Lab A for repairs’).

Once the objects are done in quarantine, they’ll go to storage. If they’re being displayed immediately, they’ll probably go to some interim storage space/shelf with other objects for the same exhibit and in that case only get a temporary setting. Every object will get labeled with their object number (directly on them, with a special pen that’s safe for this. Or if it’s really tiny, like a coin or jewelry, then their own tiny box will get the label). Small or fragile items, or items grouped together, will go in their own boxes (made of acid- and lignin-free cardboard or polyethylene plastic, like Rubbermaid totes; lined with polyethylene foam and then acid-free tissue paper). Stable ceramic vessels might sit directly on lined shelving, particularly if they’re very large or heavy, like many stone objects.

Listen, every type of object has a particular way(s) of storing that’s best for them, you’re gonna have to look that up yourself or consult someone if you need that level of detail

Ideally, before being stored away, objects are also photographed. This could be part of the Collection Officer’s duty, and/or your museum could have a photographer on staff. (say it with me:) This is more likely if your museum is really huge and/or has a backlog of unphotographed collections and has hired someone specifically, even if temporarily, to improve its collections documentation.

I would say a collections person, or anyone with a museum studies degree, should have some minimum amount of conservation knowledge that includes basic storage standards for different object materials, how to spot potential preservation problems (like if your bronze axe head is actively oxidizing or if that green spot looks the same as it always has since starting and pausing decaying), and maybe how to give objects a basic clean or deal with certain types of problems. But the nitty-gritty science is more the realm of Conservators, someone with a degree that ends in -Sci or who’s done some other certification course.

The general collections store should always be dark, slightly too cool for prolonged human comfort, and labeled to high heaven. Objects will most likely be grouped by material- ceramics/pottery, metals, precious metals and stones (jewelry or beads), stone, glass, wood, bone/ivory/other organic material like feathers or teeth or anything that can be decorative, textiles, paintings. A museum often has some paper material/documents, usually part of or related to a group of objects they acquired, but generally paper and photographic material is the realm of archives and archivists. Yet again, the bigger/more well-funded the museum, the more likely it to have a separate archive department, so your character could also work as an archivist in a museum.

Another thing the collections care folk probably do is ship objects. Remember how I said that  museums loan objects and exhibitions to each other? The stuff’s gotta travel somehow! If things are being shipped internationally, they’ll go in big wooden crates, with specifically dimensioned partitions inside. Then it will be lined with our favorite foam and tissue paper, cut so the objects sit snugly inside. I haven’t personally worked anywhere with a possibility of local shipments, so I can’t say where the threshold might be as to when a museum would just pay an employee to drive the objects over vs ship them with a shipping company. But the preparations would be similar, minus the big wooden crate but with extra-careful packing (and paperwork and insurance etc)

Conservation

Conservators are the people who work in labs with fancy equipment. Not every museum will have a formal conservator or a lab of any kind; sometimes the collections care person fills this role, or if something urgently needs care beyond the abilities of the museum’s equipment, they might send it away to a lab elsewhere, the same way you can send your old VHS home videos to a professional archive to be digitized.

If an object is actively deteriorating in a way that could harm itself or other objects (as opposed to like, at risk of fading bc the lighting is wrong, which is a straightforward fix related to the environment), that’s when a conservator would intervene.

Some methods/machinery by which you can analyze objects:

Ultraviolet (UV) and infrared (IR) light - Different materials absorb and react to light differently, which you can use to identify them. Useful for seeing things like the different layers of paintings

Stereo-microscopy (microscopes, of varying strengths)

At magnifications of x5-x100 you can see things like tool marks from an object’s manufacture, traces from wear, deposits, and coatings

At x50-x500, with a thin sliver of a sample, you can see (and hopefully identify) fibers, layers, particles, metallographic structures 

You can get information from objects without taking samples, but samples are usually worth the information. 

energy dispersive x-ray fluorescence spectrometry (EDXRF) - EDXRF allows you to identify the elemental composition of the surface layer of an object. So it might tell you what a tool is made of, and also the composition of the objects it was used on, if they left traces

scanning electron microscopy (SEM) - an SEM uses a focused beam of electrons to produce a magnified, high-resolution image of the surface of an object

X-radiography, both film and digital - X-rayy are beneficial for objects that might be covered by dirt or corrosion and can show you details of an object’s construction or hidden structural weaknesses

I’m not a conservator, so if you want more hard science-based info, ask one of them lol

Listen to me. If you take nothing else away from this post, let it be this:

 Once an object is in a museum, it is never seeing natural daylight again. Sunlight is the ultimate enemy of every object’s lifespan. If you need to see an object in the sun or moon light for ~magical spell reasons~, you will straight up be stealing that object to smuggle it outside.

Okay. That being said, you do hear (and could probably google) stories about museum employees stealing things from their museums on purpose to prove a point about security or insurance to their higher-ups, so like. Depending on your type of museum, it might not be impossible to steal from lmao. (Don’t tell anyone I said that.)

Possibly the most useful advice for you to keep in mind when writing your conservator or collections care characters would be that touching objects hurts them. It might not hurt them now, it might not even hurt them in ten years, but every time you handle an object, there’s a risk that you’ll damage it. Not on purpose, obviously, but to err is human. The simplest, most effective advice my conservation professor ever gave us was “don’t handle an object if you don’t have to.” That means don’t move an object without a plan and a place to put it, first examination should always be visual, not tactile, etc. Unfortunately, that means that your character cannot walk around lovingly handling and caressing their favorite objects (unless this is a Night at the Museum situation where the objects are caressing them back, ykwim)

Museum Technician

These people probably have a lot of different names, but basically, technicians are the background muscle of the museum. They do the technical construction of bigger pieces of exhibition material, up to and including the exhibition cases themselves. 

So they wouldn’t deal with the small mount that the object rests on, but they might build the big plinth that the mount sits on. They’ll help move things around the building, particularly big heavy things, hang big framed works, assist with exhibit installs, and generally do most things which might involve power tools/equipment or heavy lifting

I worked in a big museum that hired a third party company to supply their technicians; I interviewed at another place that hired their own. If you’re a small museum, you might just have a freelance person that comes in once or twice a week to help move things.

Other

Other miscellaneous roles one could have in a museum: researcher (for exhibits and/or collections), gift shop or cafe worker, security guard, room attendant, translator, archaeologist, consultant

Honestly, TL;DR? Just have your character be a consultant of some kind. “Oh no, I don’t work here, I’m Y’s friend. They called me in to provide some expertise on X subject that they’re doing an exhibit on.” This could work for literally any subject- history/archaeology/anthropology, art, transportation, science and technology, anything you might find pictures of in an archive, idk. This could get you into an office or meeting room of some kind in the ‘employee only’ space of the museum, or potentially all the way into the collections store if you’re giving them information they were missing about some objects. Otherwise you’d probably (hopefully) need a key or some other kind of security clearance to get into the collections store.

Whew, that was a ride, huh? I hope this guide was useful to someone! I’m always open to answering questions if you think I forgot something or if anyone wants more details <3

[icefest]

In celebration of the remarkable life and career of Val Kilmer (1959-2025), we're hosting a cross-fandom collection to honor his extraordinary contributions to film and the characters that captivated our hearts and imaginations.

About the Exchange

This event welcomes fanworks of all kinds celebrating Val Kilmer's diverse filmography. Whether you were moved by his portrayal of Jim Morrison, thrilled by his Iceman, enchanted by his Batman, or captivated by any of his other iconic roles, this is your opportunity to share your creativity with fellow fans.

Eligible Fandoms

All Val Kilmer roles and films are welcome, including but not limited to:

Top Gun/Top Gun: Maverick (Iceman)

Batman Forever (Bruce Wayne/Batman)

The Doors (Jim Morrison)

Tombstone (Doc Holliday)

Heat (Chris Shiherlis)

Willow (Madmartigan)

Real Genius (Chris Knight)

The Ghost and the Darkness (John Patterson)

The Saint (Simon Templar)

At First Sight (Virgil Adamson)

Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (Gay Perry)

Alexander (Philip II)

Thunderheart (Ray Levoi)

The Prince of Egypt (Moses, voice)

Any other film from his extensive career

Accepted Fanwork Types

We welcome all forms of creative expression:

Fanfiction: One-shots, multi-chapter works, poetry, scripts, alternative universes, crossovers

Fan Art: Digital art, traditional art, comics, photo manipulations

Poetic Works: Poems, sonnets, haiku, free verse inspired by Kilmer or his characters

Video Tributes: Fanvids, edits, animation

Audio Works: Podfics, song covers, original music

Crafts: Cosplay, props, jewelry, clothing designs

Meta: Character analysis, film essays, retrospectives

Collection Rules

All works must feature a character portrayed by Val.

Please tag appropriately for content warnings.

Both new works and reworkings of previously shared creations are welcome.

Both gen and shippy content are welcomed and encouraged.

Suggestions for Participation

Explore the complex dichotomies in Kilmer's roles: hero/villain, strong/vulnerable, comic/tragic.

Consider crossovers between his characters (What would Doc Holliday say to Iceman? A Crossover between Real Genius' Chris and Top Gun's Iceman, maybe?)

Reflect on the iconic lines and moments that defined his performances

Create "what if" scenarios for his characters' lives beyond the films

Craft poetry inspired by the emotional resonance of his performances

The collection can be found on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Ice_Fest_Exchange/profile.

Add as you finish, and enjoy! Celebrate and have fun!

Timeline

The collection is open as of now, and we ask that all completed works are posted into the collection by July 4th of this year. That said, the collection will remain open all year round, and we invite you to add your tributes to Val as you wish. Val will be missed, and his legacy will endure.

In Memoriam

This collection seeks to celebrate Val Kilmer's enduring legacy as an actor who brought depth, charisma, and unforgettable presence to every role he embodied. Through our creative works, we honor his contribution to cinema and the impact he had on audiences worldwide.

"The only love you keep is the love you give away." - Virgil Adamson, At First Sight

[bloomzone]

2025 : #25 how to be a brand new person

Imagine looking in the mirror one year from now and seeing someone completely transformed ? Not just different clothes or a new haircut, but a fundamentally evolved human being with new patterns of thinking, behaving, and engaging with the world. This comprehensive transformation is not only possible but follows predictable psychological principles that we can understand and apply systematically !! (It's easy)

Understanding the science of personal reinvention

Before we explore the practical steps, let's understand what happens in your brain during major personal transformation. Your current identity exists as a complex network of neural pathways that have been strengthened through repetition over years or decades. Every time you think a familiar thought, react in a typical way, or engage in habitual behavior, you're essentially walking down a well-worn mental path.

Think of your brain like a forest where certain trails have been walked so frequently they've become highways. ur automatic responses, emotional patterns, and behavioral tendencies represent these heavily traveled neural routes. Becoming a brand new person means consciously creating entirely new pathways while allowing the old ones to gradually fade from disuse.

This process leverages neuroplasticity, which is your brain's remarkable ability to reorganize itself throughout your entire life. Scientists have discovered that you can literally rewire your brain through conscious effort and repetition. The key insight here is that your current personality and patterns are not fixed traits but rather learned responses that can be unlearned and replaced.

Phase one: Deconstructing ur current identity

The first step in becoming brand new involves taking an honest inventory of who you currently are. This isn't about self-criticism but rather about developing awareness of the patterns that define your present existence. Most people operate on autopilot, unconsciously repeating the same thoughts, emotions, and behaviors day after day . Begin by observing urself as if you were a scientist studying an interesting subject. Notice your automatic thoughts throughout the day. What stories do you tell yourself about your capabilities, your worth, and your place in the world? Pay attention to your emotional patterns. What triggers you consistently? How do you typically respond to stress, conflict, or unexpected challenges?

Examine your daily routines and behaviors with fresh eyes. What time do you wake up and what's your first action? how do you move through your morning routine? What conversations do you have with yourself in the shower or while commuting? These seemingly minor details actually form the foundation of your current identity.Consider your relationships and social patterns. Who do you spend time with and what roles do you play in those relationships? Are you the helper, the entertainer, the problem-solver, or the listener? Notice how you present yourself differently to various people and which version feels most authentic versus most performed . this observation phase typically takes several weeks cuz you're identifying patterns that have become invisible through familiarity. keep a simple journal during this period, noting observations about your thoughts, feelings, and behaviors without trying to change them yet. Think of this as creating a baseline measurement before beginning your transformation.

Phase two: designing ur new identity

Once u understand your current patterns, you can begin consciously designing who you want to become. This requires moving beyond vague wishes like "I want to be more confident" to creating a detailed profile of your new self that feels both inspiring and achievable.

Start by envisioning your transformed self in specific situations. How does this new version of you handle a stressful work meeting? What does their morning routine look like? How do they respond when someone tries to provoke an argument? The more specific and detailed your vision, the more your brain can begin creating the neural pathways to support these new patterns. Consider the core values that will guide your new identity. Perhaps your current self prioritizes avoiding conflict, but your new self values honest communication even when it's uncomfortable. Maybe ur current self seeks approval from others, while your new self operates from internal validation and clear personal standards. Think about the energy you want to embody. Some people transform by becoming more dynamic and outgoing, while others evolve by developing quiet confidence and thoughtful presence. Neither approach is better than the other, but clarity about your desired energy helps guide all other aspects of your transformation.

Design new thought patterns that align with your evolved identity. If your current self thinks "I hope I don't mess this up," your new self might think "I'm curious to see how I'll handle this challenge." These shifts in internal dialogue create ripple effects throughout your entire experience.

Phase Three: physical and environmental transformation

Your external environment & physical presence play crucial roles in supporting or undermining your identity transformation. Think of your surroundings and appearance as constant feedback loops that either reinforce your old patterns or support your new ones.

Begin with your physical space because it influences ur thoughts and feelings more than most people realize. ur living environment should reflect and support the person you're becoming ofc rather than the person you've been. This doesn't require expensive renovations ofc but rather intentional choices about how you organize and inhabit your space. Remove items that connect u to aspects of your old identity (I do this every year it's so helpful !) that you're ready to release. This might include clothes that make you feel frumpy or unsuccessful, or decorative items that represent a version of yourself you've outgrown. Replace these with objects that inspire and remind you of your evolving identity. Consider how your new self would organize their living space. Someone transforming into a more disciplined and focused person might create clean, minimalist environments that support concentration. Someone evolving into a more creative and expressive identity might introduce vibrant colors, artistic elements, and inspirational materials !!

Your physical appearance serves as both an internal anchor for your new identity and an external signal to others about how you want to be perceived. This doesn't mean conforming to superficial standards but rather making choices that feel authentic to your evolving self. Perhaps your new identity calls for a different style of dress, a new haircut, or changes in how you carry yourself physically. Pay particular attention to your posture and movement patterns because these communicate volumes about your internal state. Someone undergoing identity transformation often discovers that changing how they move through the world actually helps shift how they feel about themselves. Walking slightly slower with better posture, making more direct eye contact, or using more deliberate gestures can create immediate shifts in both self-perception and how others respond to you.

Phase Four: cognitive and emotional reprogramming

The MOST profound aspects of becoming a brand new person involve rewiring your thinking patterns and emotional responses. This requires understanding that ur thoughts are not facts but rather mental habits that can be consciously changed through practice and repetition. Start by identifying the core thought patterns that define your current identity. Common examples include catastrophic thinking, people-pleasing tendencies, perfectionism, or chronic self-doubt. Your new identity requires replacing these automatic thoughts with patterns that serve your evolution (it's so so helpful trust me).

Work systematically on emotional regulation because your emotional patterns are deeply connected to ur sense of identity. Someone who transforms from reactive to responsive has learned to observe their emotions without being controlled by them. This doesn't mean suppressing feelings but rather developing the ability to choose your responses consciously (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)

Practice what researchers call "emotional granularity" by developing a more sophisticated vocabulary for your internal states. Instead of just feeling "bad" or "stressed," learn to identify whether you're feeling overwhelmed, disappointed, frustrated, or anxious. This precision helps you respond more effectively and develops emotional intelligence.

Phase Five: Behavioral integration and skcial transformation

Your new identity must be expressed through consistent behavioral changes for the transformation to become real and lasting. This phase involves systematically replacing old behavioral patterns with new ones that align with who you're becoming.

Begin with small, manageable changes that can be implemented immediately. If your new identity involves being more disciplined, start with simple practices like making your bed every morning or preparing your clothes the night before. These seemingly minor behaviors create momentum and reinforce ur evolving self-concept !

Pay careful attention to your communication patterns because how you speak reflects and shapes your identity. Someone transforming their presence might practice speaking more slowly and deliberately, using fewer words but with greater impact. Others might work on becoming better listeners or learning to express boundaries more clearly. Consider how your new identity navigates social situations differently. Perhaps your transformed self is more selective about social commitments, choosing quality over quantity in relationships. Maybe your new identity involves being more authentic in conversations rather than performing to please others !

Expect some resistance from people in your existing social circle because your changes might challenge the dynamics they're comfortable with. Some friends or family members might unconsciously try to pull you back into familiar patterns because your transformation makes them question their own choices. Developing the skill to maintain your new identity despite social pressure is crucial for long-term success 🪄 . Practice what psychologists call "implementation intentions" by creating specific plans for how you'll behave in various situations. Instead of hoping to be more confident, decide exactly how you'll handle specific scenarios like job interviews, social gatherings, or difficult conversations. This preparation helps ur new behavioral patterns become automatic more quickly.

Phase Six: Integration and Maintenance

The final phase involves developing systems and practices that maintain your transformation over time while allowing for continued growth and adaptation.

Create daily rituals that reinforce your new identity. This might include morning visualization exercises where you mentally rehearse being your transformed self, evening reflection periods where you review how well you embodied your new patterns, or weekly planning sessions where you align your activities with your evolved values.

Develop what researchers call "identity monitoring" by regularly checking whether your thoughts, emotions, and behaviors align with the person you've chosen to become. When you notice yourself slipping into old patterns, treat this as valuable information rather than failure. These moments show you where additional work is needed and provide opportunities to strengthen your new neural pathways. Understand that setbacks are normal and expected parts of the transformation process. Your old identity patterns have been strengthened over years and won't disappear overnight. When you catch yourself thinking, feeling, or acting in familiar ways, simply acknowledge what happened and consciously redirect yourself toward your new patterns.

Understanding the timeline and realistic expectations

Research in neuroscience and psychology suggests that significant behavioral changes typically require between 66 and 254 days to become automatic, depending on the complexity of the change and individual factors. Identity transformation, being more comprehensive than single habit changes, usually unfolds over 12 to 18 months for substantial shifts.

Sooo expect the process to happen in waves rather than linear progression. You'll have periods of rapid change followed by plateaus where changes integrate and solidify. Some days you'll feel completely transformed, while others you might feel like you're back to square one. This fluctuation is normal and doesn't indicate failure.

The most important insight about becoming a brand new person is that you're not actually changing your essential self but rather removing layers of conditioning and learned patterns that may have obscured your authentic nature. True transformation feels like coming home to yourself rather than becoming someone foreign.

Your new identity should feel like an expansion of possibility rather than a constraint or performance. When the changes feel forced or unnatural, it usually means you're trying to adopt someone else's version of improvement rather than evolving into your own authentic next level.

Remember that becoming brand new is ultimately about conscious choice rather than unconscious habit. Every moment offers an opportunity to choose thoughts, emotions, and behaviors that align with who you want to be rather than who you've been. This conscious choosing, practiced consistently over time, is what creates lasting transformation and allows you to become genuinely new while remaining authentically yourself. ✒️

@bloomzone

[wooltoesocks]

Shirahama Kamome interview at Desucon 2025, Finland

had the honour of attending her live drawing/interview last weekend, it was an absolute blast and i still cant really quite believe i got to see that. didnt win an autograph ticket, but what i did do was take notes from the panel, so if anyone's interested to read, here they are <3

feel free to share, but please credit :)

[] means stuff the panelists have said, () is me rambling

text version/ALT under the cut since it's a lot

14.6.2025 Desucon

guest of honour's program: Kamome Shirahama and the magic of drawing

disclaimer: might contain mistakes even tho i've tried to be as accurate to my notes and memory as possible <3

on the table she was going to be drawing at there were the usual 2 brushbugs wearing qifrey and olruggio's hats, but also a hattifatten

*a picture of shirahama's two brushbugs, wearing olruggio's and qifrey's hats, and a hattifatten on a table (from tongariofficial's twitter)*

the program schedule hadnt included a live drawing, so i dont know if that was going to be a surprise for us of if it was a last minute decision. shirahama said "unfortunately the hat is in the way of seeing", since she had the iguin mask on the entire time. since we had a lot of time, she would be drawing coco and qifrey. (i initially took this to mean she could draw them both since she had time but my friend interpreted it as being "BECAUSE we have time she will be drawing" so idk. she had a cool ring, which looked like it could hold ink or smth.

[did you read manga growing up and what were your favorite manga and mangaka as a kid?]

- like all kids she read manga, but also liked novels and movies

- her favorite were x-men and star was comics- she read manga that was maybe targeted to an older audience

[did you always draw as a kid?] (didnt write down this question but i think it was smth like that)

- according to her parents yes, and also she's drawn since she herself can remember

[when did drawing become your job?]

-she studied design (? and smth else idk i accidentally wrote design in english and finnish lmao) in university, and alongside that she got small jobs to draw atuff for for example teaching materials and games, and realised you could actually make a job out of drawing.

[what did you learn alongside your studies?]

- she had graphics as her major, but was also interested in accessibility design and something else (i think this had smth to do with the environment, maybe environmental design? but i had just written "something")

[how did you end up a mangaka?]

- self published manga drawings, and at some point a publisher reached out to her like hey do you wanna come draw for us

[what kind of material do you like to draw with?]

- the sketch she does with a pencil, and then the actual drawing with an inkpen- corona has chabged stuff a bit because you have to take into account how much can you meet with your assistants, so more of the drawing is done digitally nowadays

- she prefers drawing on paper, but for example if a design is going into a game (=onto a screen) she will draw it digitally to fit

- she's also been challenging herself recently by drawing more stuff digitally

[do you draw all the details in the sketch, or just at the inking part?]

- the pencil marks distract the drawing process, so she will add the details in the inking part

- "you are going to see it yourself with this"

[where have you taken influence from to your drawing style?]

- fantasy, rpg, europe (i think i meant western here??)

- okay so i had written "role-playing-game-styled" but idk what that rly means lol

- the style of wood carvings is medieval[your works have been published in maby magazines, is there a difference between magazines what kind of manga you draw?] (i think that meant her drawing style depending on magazine not the manga's story)

- it's not really the magazine that changes stuff, the drawing style changes depending on the story

- witch hat atelier is story-book-like

- style will accommodate what suits a game the best

[where does the style come from for each story?]

- no (???? what he fuck did i mean by this im sure it made sense in the moment)

- if it's a digital media, she will draw with a computer, a japanese story she will use a brush, and for a western story she will use harder pencils

[do you change your style depending on the target audience?] (more in the ways of a country a person is from, for example western/japanese)

- she will draw what will be enjoyable regardless of the target group/audience

[does your style change depending on the age group of your audience?]

- it's more in the language then, so the dialogue's difficulty changes

[where did you get the idea for enidewi?] (this just read "enidewi idea?")

- she likes european gothic angels and devils and wanted to write about them. there are a lot of things she likes in enidewi- she likes to tell stories with girls in them

(no idea what the actual question was, i just write "enidewi memories?")

- it's about 2 girls on trips and they get into shenanigans

- she has travelled a lot so she pulled stuff from her own experiences/stuff related to her own experiences

- she does hope that she hasnt been as much of a difficulty as those 2

[when did you get the idea for witch hat atelier?]

- she was thinking of it while drawing enidewi

- the idea has been with her for surprisingly long, 6 years before publishing

[were you imagining the story or the worldbuilding then?]

- no plot, but the setting, world and themes

[was the drawing part of magic in the story since the beginning?]

- it's been in the story since very early on

- there are some people who are incredibly talented at drawing in our world, but everyone can draw at least a certain amount, so she wanted a world where the magic is in everyone's reach so to say

[how did you design such an intricate magic system?]

- first she wanted a simple system that even a child could copy but wanted there to be some logic to add extra effects

[what is your favorite symbol?]

- the one coco uses a lot, meaning sylph shoes

[i think we would all want a spell to fly with our shoes]

- shirahama would want a spell to easy stiff shoulders (she was i think showing a v bad posture drawing position lol)

[too bad those are forbidden]

(no idea about the question here lol i missed it bc i was explaining the previous laughing to someone, she also had to read the question again from a paper she had so hell yea me too)

- the fears of how to get better at drawing

- there would be a feeling of relatability

[so the series has the "good guys" wearing a pointy brimless cap and the "bad guys" a brimmed cap, so a different philosophy means a different cap. where did you get the idea/why is it like this?]

- she was vaguely pointing at her iguin hat and doing the muscle flex pose like woo

- she cant say, and it will be revealed as the series progresses (she had her hands clasped at her chest i had written that down soecifically)

- wait with excitement for the upcoming chapters (i THINK she meant like any future chapter but tbh i for a sec thought the translator said NEXT chapter but dont get ur hopes up. ANYWAY WHAT THE FUCK)

(smth about the desig of characters again was distracted by the whole thing before)

- she think it's fun to make the character designs, it's it's becoming hard because there are so many characters

- she will sometimes go to her artist friends with a character idea like hey this is what this character is like what would they look like

[all the fans here would probbaly go crazy for a finland inspired outfit, what would it be like?]

- well it would be warm at least

[furhat]

[does qifrey's hat tell something about his character?]

- it's a modified version of his hat as Beldaruit's apprentice so not really

[how has it been like creating the rules within the world?]

- it's been fun thinking of the fashion styles and clothes (literally the note says "fashion styles and clothes fun so nice to make <nonsense> that was fun" so idk take of that what u will. the nonsense might have been "work" but i honestly dunno)

[what has been difficult to get to fit?]

- she says the weaknesses and holes are hard to work into the system so that it's noticable that things are wrong but not too much into either direction

- bring to light something about the differences in people ("bring forward motivation into that different people kinda" what. anyway not sure what i meant here, also not sure if this is still to the same question but i didnt at least write a question in this part so idk)

- she thinks a lot (about what, idk i think there was a question here too i missed about maybe magic?), magic is a technology that tries to make human lives easier

[do you intend to raise awareness of real life problems?]

- partially, and that magic is a positive depiction too so that might inspire to fix the real life problems[inspiration for witch hat during the creation of the series?]

- during middleschool/high school/university she liked lord of rings movies, and peter jackson films (idk if it was like she liked those during that time and they still inspire her or like was this just not answering the question but anyway)

[are there any spcific details inspired by other serieses?]

- ghibli, the idea of nausicae (? not sure about this but like those were mentioned)

[witch hat atelier is peculiar/unique with it's use of art deco. do the page compositions come to your mind as they will be or are they modified as you work?] (notes said to the first line just "wha unique, art deco" so i think that's what it meant?)

- there are both instances, some will be completed like they first came into mind, and others get elements and other stuff added while drawing[how does it feel getting recognition outside of japan too?]

- she is very happy about that, that people enjoy and read her stuff and she is very honoured overall, and it's nice that that's the case also in other countries

[reading pictures is pretty universal, is it kind of like the manga's magic that it's for everyone?]

- she said it's kinda of funny with japanese because kanji are pictograms so they are also pictures in a way

[so your series has an official spin-off called witch hat atelier kitchen. where did the idea for that come from?] (a lot of thumbs up from shirahama at the mention of kitchen yay)

- she was approached by the publishing like oh hey we have this idea to draw a witch hat food series is that okay with you[are you how deep in the creation process of kitchen, or is it just sato's work?]

- sato creates it, sometimes they might workshop some world related stuff, for example the names of vegetables, and how to connect kitchen with the main series more

[do you have a favorite character or do you love them all equally?] (she was looking between the translator and the audience and reaching for the brushbugs like tadaa kinda)

- brushbug is easy to draw so that's why, and especially drawn with a brush

[there's also a very cute hattivatti]

- she had bought it immediately after arriving to finland

[hattifattener are probably the closest finland has to a brushbug]

- "yeah that's how it is"

[you have worked with marvel, DC and star wars. how did this start?]

- she liked american comics and attended cons in the usa too, and showed some sketches for a producer/editor (idk the word but like someone in the industry)

[have you gotten to draw any of your favorite characters?]

- her first crush was wolverine

- she also like batman a lot

- she at least hasnt had the opportunity to draw them together in a work

- she draws a lot of female characters for her work usually too

[what's the process for cover art, do you get precise instructions or do you have more free hands with the design?]

- she gets mostly free reign, and does something to suit the character

- sometimes there will be instructions/asks to include something, for example if the story takes place in japan to put fitting elements there

[is there much of a difference working with foreign works compared to japanese ones?]

- not really, most differences depend on the work itself

[how much time do you get to making a cover?]

- she's been busy lately (👀👀👀) but usually the deadlines arent super specific, she will usually make one a month

[you worked in character design for the star wars: visions -series. how was the experience?]

- on top of all, the series is an animation, it was nice to get to work with other people

- also amazing to get to see her designs come to life

*a sneeze*

[do you have to take into account that the characters will be animated when making the design?]

- there wasnt as much creative freedom since star wars is a established franchise so a lot of the design elements already exist

- okay so i didnt hear if she said "you didnt have to simplify the designs" since it's animated or that "you did have to simplify the designs" so like uhhhh sorry for not being able to answer that :( i feel like it mighta been "you didnt really have to simplify" but oh well

[do you draw witch hat characters from a reference at the beginning until you memorize the design, or does the design change along the story?]

- she had made a few designs beforehand (i think this meant like of one character like a few versions)

[you also drew the comic adaptation for Star Wars: Visions. did you get strict rules for it of were you allowed to change stuff?]

- the story was completed so that wasnt changed- she kept the same visual spirit as in the animation

[is there a foreign work you would still like to get to work with?]

- a lot of eeeeeee pondering noices, she was holding her hand on her chin like when you think bout something

- she said it's a difficult question, but she would like to work with a tabletop rpg or boardgames (excited hand gestures)

[well im sure everyone here would at least love to play those]

- she mentioned she's done work with Pokemon cards and Fate/grand order

[there is a witch hat anime coming. what's your role in its production?] (excited hand gestures again)

- she says she checks the stuff the animators have done, and gives corrections if needed

- since the manga is black and white, she gived advice on the colourschemes, for example with what kind of coloring techniques the characters have access to and therefore what the clothes will look like

[is this the first time you've thought about the colours of some stuff?]

- there have been a lot, for example coco's dress in chapter 1

- she will ponder with the team what would work best

[how (much?) are you waiting for the anime?]

- "a lot, and also very excited that all of you will get to watch it"

[are there any serieses/games you like right now?]

- magus of the library (someone from the audience provided the english translation, the translator said "big wizard of the library" (in finnish). thumbs up from shirahama at that), it's very interesting

[well nice we're getting recommendations here]

[the world of witch hat atelier is rpg-styled, is there any videogame elements?] (something about videogames and witch hat world at least lol i kinda missed this bc of again the previous question)

- there's not really any video game elements, since there is no level ups or magic points

- more closer to fantasy literature

[you said you read manga before becoming a mangaka yourself. has making your own manga changed this hobby, are you tired of manga outside of work?] (many excited hand gestures again)

- she actually reads more manga now than as a kid- as a kid she didnt dare buy a lot if she didnt know the story that well (or like being way more cautious of what to buy), but now she feels like "she has permission" to read manga

- "oh it's part of the job i can buy and read manga"

[do you look back to your works and think a lot about what succeeded and could have been done better?]

- when she starts a new part in the series, she will read the previous one and think about what might have been left unexplained and try to broaden and explain the stuff later

[has the way you engage with and judge other people's manga changed after becoming a mangaka? do you think like "oh this could have been done differently" "oh this was really cool"?]

- she said she isnt "skipping school" when reading, she does look at novels too with new eyes now

[is it good to read others' fantasy works, or do you do it just because you like it?]

- she does keep up with what other people are writing, and says it's good to know what's going on so as not to write absolutely similar stuff

[oh it does look like the drawing is finished now.] (this was 12.17, the panel started at like 11, a few minutes over most likely)

- you could really see how she added the details with the ink pen and not with pencil (dont remember if this was shirahama or the panelists, but still so true and amazing to watch)

- "i erased the pencil marks out of the way"

- "thank you for having the patience to watch me draw"

[well this is going to turn into a thanking contest but i do think the pleasure is completely ours/thanks are completely on our side, thank you for drawing for us] (literally no thank YOU tetia core interaction)

[does anything come to mind that the finnish manga and anime -fans would be interested to hear that we havent realised to ask?]

- "thank you so much", she says it's nice to feel that people like the same stuff as she does, that even if we're from different countries that we are all fans of manga

[how has it been visiting finland for desucon?]

- she arrived a few days ago in helsinki, and the food and weather has been very good (this is hilarious she managed to come here on the 4 consecutive days when it's been sunny and so warm and not raining at all this whole year i feel like what. anyway glad she liked the food yayy)

- she still hasnt had time to properly visit desucon yet

when she left the stage she waved the hand of the brushbug that had oru's hat at the audience <3