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inky-duchess · 1 year ago

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Fantasy Guide to Interiors

As a followup to the very popular post on architecture, I decided to add onto it by exploring the interior of each movement and the different design techniques and tastes of each era. This post at be helpful for historical fiction, fantasy or just a long read when you're bored.

Interior Design Terms

Reeding and fluting: Fluting is a technique that consists a continuous pattern of concave grooves in a flat surface across a surface. Reeding is it's opposite.

Embossing: stamping, carving or moulding a symbol to make it stand out on a surface.

Paneling: Panels of carved wood or fabric a fixed to a wall in a continuous pattern.

Gilding: the use of gold to highlight features.

Glazed Tile: Ceramic or porcelain tiles coated with liquid coloured glass or enamel.

Column: A column is a pillar of stone or wood built to support a ceiling. We will see more of columns later on.

Bay Window: The Bay Window is a window projecting outward from a building.

Frescos: A design element of painting images upon wet plaster.

Mosaic: Mosaics are a design element that involves using pieces of coloured glass and fitted them together upon the floor or wall to form images.

Mouldings: ornate strips of carved wood along the top of a wall.

Wainscoting: paneling along the lower portion of a wall.

Chinoiserie: A European take on East Asian art. Usually seen in wallpaper.

Clerestory: A series of eye-level windows.

Sconces: A light fixture supported on a wall.

Niche: A sunken area within a wall.

Monochromatic: Focusing on a single colour within a scheme.

Ceiling rose: A moulding fashioned on the ceiling in the shape of a rose usually supporting a light fixture.

Baluster: the vertical bars of a railing.

Façade: front portion of a building

Lintel: Top of a door or window.

Portico: a covered structure over a door supported by columns

Eaves: the part of the roof overhanging from the building

Skirting: border around lower length of a wall

Ancient Greece

Houses were made of either sun-dried clay bricks or stone which were painted when they dried. Ground floors were decorated with coloured stones and tiles called Mosaics. Upper level floors were made from wood. Homes were furnished with tapestries and furniture, and in grand homes statues and grand altars would be found. Furniture was very skillfully crafted in Ancient Greece, much attention was paid to the carving and decoration of such things. Of course, Ancient Greece is ancient so I won't be going through all the movements but I will talk a little about columns.

Doric: Doric is the oldest of the orders and some argue it is the simplest. The columns of this style are set close together, without bases and carved with concave curves called flutes. The capitals (the top of the column) are plain often built with a curve at the base called an echinus and are topped by a square at the apex called an abacus. The entablature is marked by frieze of vertical channels/triglyphs. In between the channels would be detail of carved marble. The Parthenon in Athens is your best example of Doric architecture.

Ionic: The Ionic style was used for smaller buildings and the interiors. The columns had twin volutes, scroll-like designs on its capital. Between these scrolls, there was a carved curve known as an egg and in this style the entablature is much narrower and the frieze is thick with carvings. The example of Ionic Architecture is the Temple to Athena Nike at the Athens Acropolis.

Corinthian: The Corinthian style has some similarities with the Ionic order, the bases, entablature and columns almost the same but the capital is more ornate its base, column, and entablature, but its capital is far more ornate, commonly carved with depictions of acanthus leaves. The style was more slender than the others on this list, used less for bearing weight but more for decoration. Corinthian style can be found along the top levels of the Colosseum in Rome.

Tuscan: The Tuscan order shares much with the Doric order, but the columns are un-fluted and smooth. The entablature is far simpler, formed without triglyphs or guttae. The columns are capped with round capitals.

Composite: This style is mixed. It features the volutes of the Ionic order and the capitals of the Corinthian order. The volutes are larger in these columns and often more ornate. The column's capital is rather plain. for the capital, with no consistent differences to that above or below the capital.

Ancient Rome

Rome is well known for its outward architectural styles. However the Romans did know how to add that rizz to the interior. Ceilings were either vaulted or made from exploded beams that could be painted. The Romans were big into design. Moasics were a common interior sight, the use of little pieces of coloured glass or stone to create a larger image. Frescoes were used to add colour to the home, depicting mythical figures and beasts and also different textures such as stonework or brick. The Romans loved their furniture. Dining tables were low and the Romans ate on couches. Weaving was a popular pastime so there would be tapestries and wall hangings in the house. Rich households could even afford to import fine rugs from across the Empire. Glass was also a feature in Roman interior but windows were usually not paned as large panes were hard to make. Doors were usually treated with panels that were carved or in lain with bronze.

Ancient Egypt

Egypt was one of the first great civilisations, known for its immense and grand structures. Wealthy Egyptians had grand homes. The walls were painted or plastered usually with bright colours and hues. The Egyptians are cool because they mapped out their buildings in such a way to adhere to astrological movements meaning on special days if the calendar the temple or monuments were in the right place always. The columns of Egyptian where thicker, more bulbous and often had capitals shaped like bundles of papyrus reeds. Woven mats and tapestries were popular decor. Motifs from the river such as palms, papyrus and reeds were popular symbols used.

Ancient Africa

African Architecture is a very mixed bag and more structurally different and impressive than Hollywood would have you believe. Far beyond the common depictions of primitive buildings, the African nations were among the giants of their time in architecture, no style quite the same as the last but just as breathtaking.

Rwandan Architecture: The Rwandans commonly built of hardened clay with thatched roofs of dried grass or reeds. Mats of woven reeds carpeted the floors of royal abodes. These residences folded about a large public area known as a karubanda and were often so large that they became almost like a maze, connecting different chambers/huts of all kinds of uses be they residential or for other purposes.

Ashanti Architecture: The Ashanti style can be found in present day Ghana. The style incorporates walls of plaster formed of mud and designed with bright paint and buildings with a courtyard at the heart, not unlike another examples on this post. The Ashanti also formed their buildings of the favourite method of wattle and daub.

Nubian Architecture: Nubia, in modern day Ethiopia, was home to the Nubians who were one of the world's most impressive architects at the beginning of the architecture world and probably would be more talked about if it weren't for the Egyptians building monuments only up the road. The Nubians were famous for building the speos, tall tower-like spires carved of stone. The Nubians used a variety of materials and skills to build, for example wattle and daub and mudbrick. The Kingdom of Kush, the people who took over the Nubian Empire was a fan of Egyptian works even if they didn't like them very much. The Kushites began building pyramid-like structures such at the sight of Gebel Barkal

Japanese Interiors

Japenese interior design rests upon 7 principles. Kanso (簡素)- Simplicity, Fukinsei (不均整)- Asymmetry, Shizen (自然)- Natural, Shibumi (渋味) – Simple beauty, Yugen (幽玄)- subtle grace, Datsuzoku (脱俗) – freedom from habitual behaviour, Seijaku (静寂)- tranquillity.

Common features of Japanese Interior Design:

Shoji walls: these are the screens you think of when you think of the traditional Japanese homes. They are made of wooden frames, rice paper and used to partition

Tatami: Tatami mats are used within Japanese households to blanket the floors. They were made of rice straw and rush straw, laid down to cushion the floor.

Genkan: The Genkan was a sunken space between the front door and the rest of the house. This area is meant to separate the home from the outside and is where shoes are discarded before entering.

Japanese furniture: often lowest, close to the ground. These include tables and chairs but often tanked are replaced by zabuton, large cushions. Furniture is usually carved of wood in a minimalist design.

Nature: As both the Shinto and Buddhist beliefs are great influences upon architecture, there is a strong presence of nature with the architecture. Wood is used for this reason and natural light is prevalent with in the home. The orientation is meant to reflect the best view of the world.

Islamic World Interior

The Islamic world has one of the most beautiful and impressive interior design styles across the world. Colour and detail are absolute staples in the movement. Windows are usually not paned with glass but covered in ornate lattices known as jali. The jali give ventilation, light and privacy to the home. Islamic Interiors are ornate and colourful, using coloured ceramic tiles. The upper parts of walls and ceilings are usually flat decorated with arabesques (foliate ornamentation), while the lower wall areas were usually tiled. Features such as honeycombed ceilings, horseshoe arches, stalactite-fringed arches and stalactite vaults (Muqarnas) are prevalent among many famous Islamic buildings such as the Alhambra and the Blue Mosque.

Byzantine (330/395–1453 A. D)

The Byzantine Empire or Eastern Roman Empire was where eat met west, leading to a melting pot of different interior designs based on early Christian styles and Persian influences. Mosaics are probably what you think of when you think of the Byzantine Empire. Ivory was also a popular feature in the Interiors, with carved ivory or the use of it in inlay. The use of gold as a decorative feature usually by way of repoussé (decorating metals by hammering in the design from the backside of the metal). Fabrics from Persia, heavily embroidered and intricately woven along with silks from afar a field as China, would also be used to upholster furniture or be used as wall hangings. The Byzantines favoured natural light, usually from the use of copolas.

Indian Interiors

India is of course, the font of all intricate designs. India's history is sectioned into many eras but we will focus on a few to give you an idea of prevalent techniques and tastes.

The Gupta Empire (320 – 650 CE): The Gupta era was a time of stone carving. As impressive as the outside of these buildings are, the Interiors are just as amazing. Gupta era buildings featured many details such as ogee (circular or horseshoe arch), gavaksha/chandrashala (the motif centred these arches), ashlar masonry (built of squared stone blocks) with ceilings of plain, flat slabs of stone.

Delhi Sultanate (1206–1526): Another period of beautifully carved stone. The Delhi sultanate had influence from the Islamic world, with heavy uses of mosaics, brackets, intricate mouldings, columns and and hypostyle halls.

Mughal Empire (1526–1857): Stonework was also important on the Mughal Empire. Intricately carved stonework was seen in the pillars, low relief panels depicting nature images and jalis (marble screens). Stonework was also decorated in a stye known as pietra dura/parchin kari with inscriptions and geometric designs using colored stones to create images. Tilework was also popular during this period. Moasic tiles were cut and fitted together to create larger patters while cuerda seca tiles were coloured tiles outlined with black.

Chinese Interiors

Common features of Chinese Interiors

Use of Colours: Colour in Chinese Interior is usually vibrant and bold. Red and Black are are traditional colours, meant to bring luck, happiness, power, knowledge and stability to the household.

Latticework: Lattices are a staple in Chinese interiors most often seen on shutters, screens, doors of cabinets snf even traditional beds.

Lacquer: Multiple coats of lacquer are applied to furniture or cabinets (now walls) and then carved. The skill is called Diaoqi (雕漆).

Decorative Screens: Screens are used to partition off part of a room. They are usually of carved wood, pained with very intricate murals.

Shrines: Spaces were reserved on the home to honour ancestors, usually consisting of an altar where offerings could be made.

Of course, Chinese Interiors are not all the same through the different eras. While some details and techniques were interchangeable through different dynasties, usually a dynasty had a notable style or deviation. These aren't all the dynasties of course but a few interesting examples.

Song Dynasty (960–1279): The Song Dynasty is known for its stonework. Sculpture was an important part of Song Dynasty interior. It was in this period than brick and stone work became the most used material. The Song Dynasty was also known for its very intricate attention to detail, paintings, and used tiles.

Ming Dynasty(1368–1644): Ceilings were adorned with cloisons usually featuring yellow reed work. The floors would be of flagstones usually of deep tones, mostly black. The Ming Dynasty favoured richly coloured silk hangings, tapestries and furnishings. Furniture was usually carved of darker woods, arrayed in a certain way to bring peace to the dwelling.

Han Dynasty (206 BC-220 AD): Interior walls were plastered and painted to show important figures and scenes. Lacquer, though it was discovered earlier, came into greater prominence with better skill in this era.

Tang Dynasty (618–907) : The colour palette is restrained, reserved. But the Tang dynasty is not without it's beauty. Earthenware reached it's peak in this era, many homes would display fine examples as well. The Tang dynasty is famous for its upturned eaves, the ceilings supported by timber columns mounted with metal or stone bases. Glazed tiles were popular in this era, either a fixed to the roof or decorating a screen wall.

Romanesque (6th -11th century/12th)

Romanesque Architecture is a span between the end of Roman Empire to the Gothic style. Taking inspiration from the Roman and Byzantine Empires, the Romanesque period incorporates many of the styles. The most common details are carved floral and foliage symbols with the stonework of the Romanesque buildings. Cable mouldings or twisted rope-like carvings would have framed doorways. As per the name, Romansque Interiors relied heavily on its love and admiration for Rome. The Romanesque style uses geometric shapes as statements using curves, circles snf arches. The colours would be clean and warm, focusing on minimal ornamentation.

Gothic Architecture (12th Century - 16th Century)

The Gothic style is what you think of when you think of old European cathedrals and probably one of the beautiful of the styles on this list and one of most recognisable. The Gothic style is a dramatic, opposing sight and one of the easiest to describe. Decoration in this era became more ornate, stonework began to sport carving and modelling in a way it did not before. The ceilings moved away from barreled vaults to quadripartite and sexpartite vaulting. Columns slimmed as other supportive structures were invented. Intricate stained glass windows began their popularity here. In Gothic structures, everything is very symmetrical and even.

Mediaeval (500 AD to 1500)

Interiors of mediaeval homes are not quite as drab as Hollywood likes to make out. Building materials may be hidden by plaster in rich homes, sometimes even painted. Floors were either dirt strewn with rushes or flagstones in larger homes. Stonework was popular, especially around fireplaces. Grand homes would be decorated with intricate woodwork, carved heraldic beasts and wall hangings of fine fabrics.

Renaissance (late 1300s-1600s)

The Renaissance was a period of great artistry and splendor. The revival of old styles injected symmetry and colour into the homes. Frescoes were back. Painted mouldings adorned the ceilings and walls. Furniture became more ornate, fixed with luxurious upholstery and fine carvings. Caryatids (pillars in the shape of women), grotesques, Roman and Greek images were used to spruce up the place. Floors began to become more intricate, with coloured stone and marble. Modelled stucco, sgraffiti arabesques (made by cutting lines through a layer of plaster or stucco to reveal an underlayer), and fine wall painting were used in brilliant combinations in the early part of the 16th century.

Tudor Interior (1485-1603)

The Tudor period is a starkly unique style within England and very recognisable. Windows were fixed with lattice work, usually casement. Stained glass was also in in this period, usually depicting figures and heraldic beasts. Rooms would be panelled with wood or plastered. Walls would be adorned with tapestries or embroidered hangings. Windows and furniture would be furnished with fine fabrics such as brocade. Floors would typically be of wood, sometimes strewn with rush matting mixed with fresh herbs and flowers to freshen the room.

Baroque (1600 to 1750)

The Baroque period was a time for splendor and for splashing the cash. The interior of a baroque room was usually intricate, usually of a light palette, featuring a very high ceiling heavy with detail. Furniture would choke the room, ornately carved and stitched with very high quality fabrics. The rooms would be full of art not limited to just paintings but also sculptures of marble or bronze, large intricate mirrors, moldings along the walls which may be heavily gilded, chandeliers and detailed paneling.

Victorian (1837-1901)

We think of the interiors of Victorian homes as dowdy and dark but that isn't true. The Victorians favoured tapestries, intricate rugs, decorated wallpaper, exquisitely furniture, and surprisingly, bright colour. Dyes were more widely available to people of all stations and the Victorians did not want for colour. Patterns and details were usually nature inspired, usually floral or vines. Walls could also be painted to mimic a building material such as wood or marble and most likely painted in rich tones. The Victorians were suckers for furniture, preferring them grandly carved with fine fabric usually embroidered or buttoned. And they did not believe in minimalism. If you could fit another piece of furniture in a room, it was going in there. Floors were almost eclusively wood laid with the previously mentioned rugs. But the Victorians did enjoy tiled floors but restricted them to entrances. The Victorians were quite in touch with their green thumbs so expect a lot of flowers and greenery inside. with various elaborately decorated patterned rugs. And remember, the Victorians loved to display as much wealth as they could. Every shelf, cabinet, case and ledge would be chocked full of ornaments and antiques.

Edwardian/The Gilded Age/Belle Epoque (1880s-1914)

This period (I've lumped them together for simplicity) began to move away from the deep tones and ornate patterns of the Victorian period. Colour became more neutral. Nature still had a place in design. Stained glass began to become popular, especially on lampshades and light fixtures. Embossing started to gain popularity and tile work began to expand from the entrance halls to other parts of the house. Furniture began to move away from dark wood, some families favouring breathable woods like wicker. The rooms would be less cluttered.

Art Deco (1920s-1930s)

The 1920s was a time of buzz and change. Gone were the refined tastes of the pre-war era and now the wow factor was in. Walls were smoother, buildings were sharper and more jagged, doorways and windows were decorated with reeding and fluting. Pastels were in, as was the heavy use of black and white, along with gold. Mirrors and glass were in, injecting light into rooms. Gold, silver, steel and chrome were used in furnishings and decor. Geometric shapes were a favourite design choice. Again, high quality and bold fabrics were used such as animal skins or colourful velvet. It was all a rejection of the Art Noveau movement, away from nature focusing on the man made.

Modernism (1930 - 1965)

Modernism came after the Art Deco movement. Fuss and feathers were out the door and now, practicality was in. Materials used are shown as they are, wood is not painted, metal is not coated. Bright colours were acceptable but neutral palettes were favoured. Interiors were open and favoured large windows. Furniture was practical, for use rather than the ornamentation, featuring plain details of any and geometric shapes. Away from Art Deco, everything is straight, linear and streamlined.

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pitlanepeach · 14 hours ago

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Radio Silence | Epilogue

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, time jumps, slice of life.

Notes — There are no words, really. I hope you cherish all of the tiny, specific details I added here. I spent a lot of time on it. Yes, I will possibly write some additional snapshots/oneshots of their future.

2025

Autism, Womanhood, and the Mechanics of Belonging by Amelia Norris

Autism presents itself in females in many ways.

Sometimes invisibly. Often misdiagnosed. Frequently misunderstood.

In me, it’s always looked like this: a difficulty with eye contact. An inability to read the curve of someone’s mouth or the sharp edges hidden beneath their tone. I learned early how to catalogue expressions the way other girls my age collected dolls — not for fun, but for function. A survival skill. A flash of teeth? Friendly. Or hostile. Or forced. Raised eyebrows? Surprise. Maybe judgment. Maybe not.

Memorising made things manageable. Predictable. Less scary.

Sarcasm took longer. I still miss it, sometimes. I can design a suspension system from scratch, but I’ll still turn to my husband after a conversation and ask, “Was that a joke?”

It used to bother me. It doesn’t anymore.

Touch has always been strange, too. I don’t like uninvited contact. Hugs feel like puzzles with warped edges — familiar in theory, but always a little off. It’s not dislike. It’s friction between my nervous system and the world. I used to think that meant something was wrong with me.

I was wrong.

I’m not broken. I’m just calibrated differently.

And then there’s the focus.

When I was a child, it was Formula 1. Not the drivers, not the glamour — the systems. The telemetry. The pit stop choreography. The physics. The math hidden inside motion. While other kids learned to swim, I was memorising tyre degradation patterns. While girls my age planned birthday parties, I was building aerodynamic models from cereal boxes.

I didn’t understand how to be part of the world I’d been born into.

But I always understood how cars moved through it.

That obsession became a career — eventually. But not right away.

My father, Zak Brown, became the CEO of McLaren Racing. I thought that would be an advantage. I was wrong again. He loved me, but he didn’t know how to take me seriously. I brought ideas. He catalogued them without thought. I handed him data. He passed it off to other people without remembering I’d written it.

He didn’t mean to hurt me — but he did. In a hundred careless ways.

Enough to make me leave.

I was already seeing Lando, quietly. It was early. Tentative. I was cautious because I didn’t always understand people. He was cautious because he was getting advice, loud, well-meaning advice, not to date the boss’s daughter.

He disappeared on me for a while. And I didn’t understand why.

I remember thinking: I must have done something wrong and not realised it.

But I hadn’t.

Eventually, he came back. Explained. Apologised. We learned each other slowly, and not always easily — but deeply.

Around the same time, I left McLaren. I took a job at Red Bull. Not for revenge. For recognition.

Max Verstappen didn’t care who my father was. He cared that I understood race pace like a second language. We won two championships together.

And in the meantime — Lando and I kept finding our way back to each other. Every time, more solid than before.

Eventually, I came back to papaya. But on my terms. Not as Zak’s daughter. As a lead engineer. With Oscar by my side and Lando in a car I had helped design, shaped precisely to fit his hands, his shoulders, his driving style.

Then I had my daughter. Ada.

And the hyper-focus I’ve carried my whole life shifted again — narrowed, but deepened.

It’s still data. Still equations and airflow and lap deltas. But it’s also Lando, who stopped having to ask to touch me years ago. Who doesn’t need explanations but still listens when I give them.

It’s Ada — glorious, curious, sticky. Who throws glitter onto my schematics and insists I help her fix the broken boosters on her cardboard spaceship with grunts and wife, pleading eyes.

It’s both of them.

And the quiet, terrifying vastness of being truly understood.

My autism didn’t vanish when I became a wife. It didn’t soften when I became a mother. I am still who I have always been: meticulous, sensitive, blunt. I still script my voicemails. I still shut down when I’m overstimulated. I still have meltdowns. I still need more sleep than most people and can’t fucntion in rooms with flickering lights.

But I’ve grown. I’ve adapted. I’ve made peace not just with structure, but with chaos. With change. With soft interruptions. With a life I never thought I’d be able to build.

I’ve created a life where I don’t have to perform.

I just get to be.

And for the first time, I’m letting people see me. All of me.

Which is why I’m writing this.

Because I know I’m not the only one.

Because somewhere, there’s a teenage girl memorising lap times and scared she doesn’t belong in a world that moves too loud, too fast, too unclearly.

Because I wish I’d known sooner that I wasn’t alone.

Today, I’m proud to announce the launch of NeuroDrive — a foundation dedicated to mentoring, supporting, and funding autistic young women pursuing careers in motorsport.

We’ll be offering scholarships. Internships. Mentorship. Resources. Community.

From engineering to analytics to logistics to aero to comms — every role that makes this sport move.

I want these girls to know that their focus is a gift.

Their precision is power.

Their minds are brilliant.

I want them to know they don’t need to hide.

There’s room for them here. There’s room for all of us.

And they belong — fully, loudly, exactly as they are — in motorsport.

With hope, Amelia Norris

—

Amelia sat back from her laptop screen.

She hadn’t meant to write it all in one frantic breath. It had just… unfurled. A loose thread tugged gently free at the edge of the day, unraveling steadily until it wove itself into something whole.

She stared at the last line. Her hands hovered over the keyboard, then lowered to her lap. She exhaled.

Behind her, the wooden floor creaked softly.

A moment later, familiar arms wrapped gently around her waist — warm, unhurried. Lando pressed a kiss just behind her ear, right in that small, quiet space that always made her flinch less than anywhere else.

“She’s asleep,” Lando murmured, voice low and amused. “Finally. Made me sing the rocket song. Twice. And do the hand movements.”

Amelia huffed a small, warm laugh but didn’t turn. “You hate the hand movements.”

“I hate them passionately,” he said, bending slightly to press a kiss to the space just behind her ear. “But she likes them. And I happen to love her enough to tolerate them.”

She could feel him smiling against her skin.

The sea air had slipped in through the open balcony doors behind them, warm and salt-tinged, carrying the gentle hum of nighttime Monaco.

Lando’s arms slid comfortably around her waist. He rested his chin on her shoulder and peered at the screen. “Let me read it?” He asked after a pause.

“You already know all of it,” she said softly.

“Yeah,” he replied, nudging her temple with his nose. “But I like hearing it in your words.”

She didn’t answer, not with words anyway. She just leaned into him, letting her body relax in increments. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment longer before dropping quietly to her lap. Her pulse, which had been buzzing all evening, finally slowed. The cursor blinked in the corner of the screen — steady, patient, waiting.

She would post the piece eventually. Maybe not tonight. But soon. She’d promised the women helping her build NeuroDrive that the launch would be personal, rooted in something real — something true. And this essay… it was all of that. Raw and oddly fragile. But hers.

Behind them, the linen curtains shifted in the breeze.

“I think she likes it here,” Lando murmured, after a few minutes had passed in quiet. “Monaco.”

Amelia blinked, surfacing. “Ada?”

“Yeah. I had her out on the balcony earlier. She liked the sun.”

“She gets that from you,” Amelia said, dry as ever.

He laughed softly. “She does like the heat. More than I expected.”

“She likes everything here,” Amelia admitted, watching the night settle over the marina. “The boats. The water. Max’s cats.”

“She said ‘cat’ three times yesterday,” Lando said proudly.

“She’s five months old, Lando. It was probably just gas.”

“No,” he insisted. “She looked right at Jimmy and said it. Loudly.”

“Well, Jimmy did bite her toy rocket.” She said, her lips twitching at the memory of her daughter’s appalled face as the cat attacked her beloved stuffy.

Lando huffed a laugh. “Valid reaction.”

They both fell quiet again, lulled by the rhythm of the moment. Amelia let her gaze drift across the open-plan living space of their Monaco apartment; all soft neutrals and clean angles, intentionally simple.

This was Ada’s first real stretch of time here. The first time Monaco would ever feel like home to their daughter, not just a temporary stop between England and wherever Lando was racing next. Amelia had worried about that — the splitness of things. Of belonging to multiple places but never fully resting in one. But Ada, with all her glittering confidence and stubborn joy, didn’t seem to mind.

“She doesn’t mind the change,” Amelia said quietly. “She just… adapts. Quicker than I do.”

“You’ve been adapting longer,” Lando said simply. “She’s still new. You had to learn the hard way.”

“I’m still learning,” Amelia admitted.

He brushed his lips against her cheek, slow and careful. “I love how your mind works,” he said. “I loved it when I didn’t understand it, and I love it even more now that I do.”

She swallowed. Her throat felt tight in the familiar, unwieldy way that happened when someone saw her too clearly. “It’s almost done,” she said, nodding toward the document. “Just a few more edits. Then I’ll post it. The site’s ready. The social channels are scheduled. The first mentorship emails go out next week.”

He squeezed her waist gently. “You built a whole new system, baby.”

“I built a team,” she said, glancing at the screen. “It’s not just going to be mine.”

He nodded. “You’re going to change lives, baby.”

“Hopefully not just change them,” she said. “Build them. Design them. Like a car.”

He grinned into her hair. “You and your car metaphors.”

“I don’t use them that often.” She frowned.

“Mm. You’re right. Only four times a day.”

He was teasing her. The lopsided smile, squinty eyes and tiny red splotches on his cheekbones told her so.

She rolled her eyes but leaned back into him anyway. Lando’s arms around her. Ada safe and sleeping. The sea just a five minute drive from their inner-city apartment.

It didn’t matter that the cursor was still blinking on her screen.

She’d found her place in the world; or built it, piece by piece.

And she was going to help other girls do the same.

—

@/NeuroDriveOrg Today, we’re launching NeuroDrive: a charity organisation formed to empower autistic women in motorsport — because brilliance comes in many forms, and it’s time we celebrate every one of them. Find out more and discover how to get involved by clicking the link below. #NeuroDriveLaunch

Replies:

@/f1_galaxy

OMG AMELIA???? This is so crazy but I’m so here for it!! #NeuroDriveLaunch

@/racecarrebel

Autistic and a gearhead? That’s me lol. Signing up right now!

@/sarcasticengineer

wait so I can geek out about torque and not pretend i get social cues? literally a dream

@/cartoonkid420

*gif of a car drifting sideways* When you realize your fave F1 engineer is actually a real-life superhero #NeuroDriveLaunch

@/chillaxbro

Amelia Norris (CEO) IKTR

@/maxverman

Yk honestly big ups to @/AmeliaNorris for making this happen. What a woman.

@/indylewis

This being the first post I see when I open this app after my diagnosis review? CINEMA.

@/f1mobtality

BEAUTIFUL. INCREDIBLE. AMAZING. BREATHTAKING. #NeuroDriveLaunch

@/notlewisbutclose LEWIS ON THE BOARD OF DIRECTORS? IKTR MY KING

@/LewisHamilton Proud to see and have a hand in making initiatives like NeuroDrive happen. It’s about time that we start making strides to pave the way for real diversity in motorsport. Change is coming, and it’s about time. #NeuroDriveLaunch

@/landostrollfan99 PLS I KNOW LANDO IS CRASHING OUT BC HE’S SO PROUD OF HIS WIFEY RN

@/NeuroDriveOrg Thank you everyone for all the love! Our virtual mentorship program opens next week; sign up to be part of the first cohort! Over 18’s can sign up themselves, but anyone younger must have parental consent. Thanks, Amelia.

@/AnnieAnalyst

My mom has been a hardcore motorsport fan for decades. She’s on the spectrum. She’s found such joy in watching Amelia Norris take the F1 world by storm over the past eight years. I know that she’s going to be so happy about this. Can’t wait to tell her.

@/samliverygoat

This is sick. I’m a guy, but my sister is eight and autistic and wants to be a mechanic. I’m gonna tell my mum about this and get her signed up. Big ups your wife @/LandoNorris

—

Lando woke slowly, the Monaco morning sun spilling in through gauzy curtains and casting pale gold across their bedroom. The room was still, quiet in that delicate way that meant someone had been awake for a while already.

He blinked, then turned toward the warm shape beside him; and stopped, his breath catching slightly at the sight.

Amelia was sitting upright against the headboard, hair pulled into a messy knot, one arm curled around Ada who was nestled into her chest, half-asleep and nursing. Her other hand held her phone, screen dimmed low. She was speaking quietly — not in a cooing baby voice, but in her normal cadence, clipped and slightly analytical.

“…recognises familiar people, understands simple instructions, imitates gestures, like clapping or waving; well, I’ve literally never seen you wave unless it’s to say goodbye to your own socks.” She frowned.

Lando smiled into his pillow, eyes still half-closed.

Amelia glanced down at Ada, who blinked up at her with wide eyes and a dribble of milk on her chin.

“That’s fine. You’re spatially efficient already.”

“Are we reading milestone checklists?” Lando’s voice was thick with sleep, rough-edged and fond.

Amelia didn’t jump, didn’t even look away from her screen. “It’s her birthday. I thought I should make sure she’s not developmentally behind.”

“She’s licking your elbow,” he pointed out.

“Which is not on the list,” she sighed.

Lando scooted closer, propping himself up on one elbow to see them both better. Ada detached with a soft sigh, then yawned, full-bodied and squeaky. Amelia adjusted her shirt without ceremony and let Ada rest against her, one hand gently stroking her hair.

“She’s perfect,” he said, leaning over to kiss the crown of Ada’s head, then Amelia’s shoulder. “Milestones or not.”

Amelia hesitated. “She’s not pointing at things. That’s apparently a big one.”

“She screamed at Max’s cats until they moved out of her way, does that count?”

Amelia hummed in thought. “I suppose we could classify that as assertive communication.”

They sat like that for a minute, wrapped in the warm hush of early light and baby breaths. Monaco in June was hazy and beautiful, a perfect little jewel box of a day already unfolding around them.

“Do you think she knows it’s her birthday?” Lando asked, voice still low.

“No,” Amelia said simply. “Probably not. But we do.” She glanced down at their daughter again, something unreadable, almost too tender, flickering behind her eyes. “I know it’s been a year since I stopped being one version of myself and started being another.”

Lando’s hand found hers where it rested on Ada’s tiny back. “Yeah, baby?”

Amelia tilted her head, considering. “Maybe. I feel… broader. Like I can stretch in more directions now.”

He smiled. “You’re perfect.”

Ada, half-asleep, made a soft gurgling sound and grabbed Amelia’s Lando necklace in one surprisingly strong fist.

Lando leaned in again, voice warmer now. “Happy birthday, sweet little pea,” he whispered to Ada, then kissed Amelia’s jaw. “And happy birth-day to you.”

Amelia made a face. “That’s not a thing.”

“It is,” he insisted. “You did all the work. You should get recognition too.”

“I suppose.” She considered it for a minute. “Does that mean I should congratulate you on the anniversary of her conception?”

She was being serious — which was why he just smiled instead of laughing the way he desperately wanted to. “If you want to, baby.”

She nodded and catalogued that away in the small corner of her brain that contained a long list of dates that mattered most to her.

She think about it like this: dates she will never forget. Not because she wrote them down, but because they’re carved into the soft machinery of who she is.

October 9th — Her mother’s birthday.

November 7th – Her father’s birthday.

December 12th, 2021 – Max’s first championship win.

July 5th, 2022 — Her wedding day.

July 2nd, 2023 – Oscar’s first Grand Prix start.

May 5th, 2024 – The day Lando won his first race.

June 30th, 2024 – The day Ada was born.

She’s always catalogued things.

It made the world digestible.

But those dates don’t need charts or colour codes.

They live in her like heat. Like heartbeat. Like gravity.

Later, there would be cake. Balloons. Chaos. Max will appear with sacks full of wrapped gifts. Ada will probably eat something that she isn’t supposed to.

Lando takes Ada into his arms and lifts her above his head, blowing a bubble at her with his lips.

She drools sleepily, and Amelia winces when milky bile spills from her mouth.

Yeah. Not a good idea to jostle a well-fed baby.

Lando made a face and then used his t-shirt to wipe their little girls’ lip clean.

She stared at him.

And at their small, wondrous girl.

A year old.

—

Seventeen Years Later

The sky was brightening in soft lavender layers over the marina. Monaco looked almost quiet for once — like it was holding its breath.

Ada sat cross-legged on the bedroom floor, her back pressed to the base of her mother’s old desk. The drawer had stuck for years, warped with sea air, but today it had slid open easily. Like it had been waiting for her.

Inside: one neatly folded sheet of thick paper. Her name was written in the corner in her mum’s handwriting. Clean, sharp letters.

She unfolded it carefully, even though part of her already knew what kind of letter this would be. Not sentimental. Not flowery. Not emotional in the ways people expected. But honest.

My beautiful Ada,

I’m writing this on your first birthday.

You’re asleep right now — finally — with vanilla frosting in your hair and a purple sock on one foot and not the other. Your daddy’s asleep too, mouth open, curled around the giraffe that Maxie gave you today. I should be sleeping. But I’m here, writing this. That probably says a lot.

I don’t know who you’ll be yet. Not really.

Maybe you’ll love numbers the way I do. Maybe you’ll throw yourself into art, or animals, or flight, or noise. Maybe you’ll carry the softness your father wears so easily. Maybe you’ll burn hot like me and never quite know how to dim it.

Or maybe, hopefully, you’ll be entirely your own: unshaped by us, unafraid of being too much or not enough.

All I know is this: whoever you are, whoever you become, I will love you without condition and without needing to fully understand.

Because understanding is not a prerequisite for love. It never has been.

I want to get everything right. I won’t. I already know that.

But I promise I will try. Fiercely. Unrelentingly.

I will learn what you need from me, over and over again, as you change and grow and outpace me. I will listen — even when I don’t know what to say. I will ask you what you need, and believe you the first time.

Love isn’t easy for me in the way it is for your daddy. I don’t always say the right thing, or give affection in the way people expect. But please know: I love you with everything I have. In every way I know how.

It may not always look loud or obvious. But it will be real. And it will never leave you.

I will always be in your corner.

Even if I’m quiet.

Even if I’m late.

Even if I’m gone.

Always.

— Mum

The letter smelled faintly of ink and something older; lavender, maybe, or the ghost of her mum’s favourite perfume. Ada folded it carefully along the worn creases and slid it back into its envelope, fingers tracing the edge before getting up and going back to her bedroom, tucking it inside the drawer of her nightstand.

The light from the marina hadn’t reached this side of the house yet, but the sea breeze had — soft and salt-laced through the open windows. Ada padded barefoot across the wooden floor, familiar as the lines on her own palm, and moved quietly into the hallway.

The balcony door was already ajar.

Her mother was there, as she always was on mornings like this — perched in her usual chair, legs tucked under her body, a latte cradled in both hands. Her hair was scraped back in a low twist, pale in the early morning light, and she hadn’t noticed Ada yet.

Amelia was humming. Softly. Tunelessly. A little stim she’d done for as long as Ada could remember.

Ada hesitated in the doorway, just for a moment.

Then she stepped forward, slow and quiet. Climbed into her mother’s lap without a word, curling against her like she was still small enough to belong there.

Amelia stilled for half a breath. Then she shifted, just slightly — letting her daughter fit against her without comment or tension. One hand settled over Ada’s spine. The other stayed wrapped around the ceramic heat of her cup.

She didn’t ask questions.

She didn’t need to.

Instead, she kept humming. A low, constant thread of sound that vibrated in Ada’s ribs as she pressed her cheek to her mother’s shoulder.

They watched the sun climb over the harbour. The light came in slow and sure, brushing over the rooftops and catching on the water in amber fragments.

Amelia didn’t speak. She just held her daughter. One hand stroking the same pattern — left shoulder to elbow, up and back again.

And Ada breathed. Steady. Whole.

She was older now; too big, probably, to sit in her small statured mum’s lap like this. But not today. Not just yet.

In her mother’s arms, she was still allowed to be small.

Still allowed to be quiet.

Still allowed to simply be.

And Amelia, in the language she had always known best, presence over words, held her through it.

As the light shifted across the sea, the only sound between them was the soft hiss of foam against porcelain. The familiar hum. The heartbeat of love — silent, constant, and entirely understood.

—

2025

It was impossible to sum up the 2025 season in any cohesive way.

There were days she felt like she was balancing on the tip of a needle.

Her car was perfect. That much was undeniable. For the first time since she’d begun clawing her way through every door that had once been locked to her, the machine under her boys wasn’t just competitive — it was untouchable. Fast on every compound. Nimble in the wet. Ferocious in the hands of a driver who knew how to take it to the edge.

And she had two of them. Two.

Oscar and Lando.

Her driver. Her husband.

It would have made a weaker team combust.

But McLaren hadn’t combusted. Not yet, anyway. Not under her watch.

Oscar had grown into himself in ways that still caught her off guard — all lean control and precision, carrying the ice-veined patience of someone who had watched others take what he knew he was capable of. He drove like someone with nothing left to prove and everything still to take.

And Lando... Lando had grown, too.

There were days he was still impossibly frustrating — still too harsh on himself, too reactive on the radio, still hurt in ways she couldn’t always patch. But he was stronger now. Calmer. Faster. And he trusted her. Not blindly, not because he loved her — but because he believed in her. Her mind. Her leadership. Her.

Every race had been a coin toss. Oscar or Lando. Lando or Oscar. Strategy calls had to be clinical. Unbiased. And every week she made them with the knowledge that whatever she chose could cost someone she loved the chance at something immortal.

She wouldn’t let herself flinch.

Not when the margins were this razor-thin.

Not when the car was finally everything she’d spent her life trying to build.

When the upgrades landed and they locked out the front row, she didn’t smile. She just stared at the data until the lines blurred, heart thudding, and told herself she’d allow joy when it was over.

When they took each other out in Silverstone; barely a racing incident, but brutal nonetheless, she didn’t speak to anyone for two hours. Just shut herself in the sim office and breathed through the silence until the tightness left her hands.

When they went 1-2 in Singapore, swapping fastest laps down to the final sector, she didn’t even hear the cheers. She just watched the replay of the overtake again. And again. And again.

Precision. Patience. Courage.

They had everything. And they were hers — in the only ways that mattered in this arena. Oscar, her driver. Lando, her husband. Both brilliant. Both stubborn. Both driving the car she had finally, finally perfected.

In the garage, she never played favourites.

In the dark, she ached with the weight of both of them.

Now, the season was nearly over. One race to go. One title on the line. Between them.

And Amelia?

She felt something not quite like calm. Not quite like pride.

Something vaster.

She didn’t know who would win. She truly didn’t. She wasn’t even sure if she had a preference. Her love for Lando, loud and chaotic, as real as gravity, lived beside her fierce loyalty to Oscar, who had never once asked her to earn his trust, only to maintain it.

She loved them differently. But she loved them both.

And whatever the final points tally read, whatever flag waved first in Abu Dhabi, it would not change what she’d built. What they’d built. A machine so complete, so purely competitive, that the only person who could beat it was someone inside of it.

That, she thought, was the mark of something enduring.

And in the quiet before the finale, Amelia allowed herself a breath of pride so deep it nearly broke her open.

It wasn’t about the trophy anymore.

It was about the fact that the world had doubted her. Them.

And now they couldn’t look away.

—

2026

Amelia had been keeping a spreadsheet. Of course she had.

A private one — just a simple, tucked-away Google Sheet with six columns: Developmental milestone, Average age, Ada’s age, Observed behaviour, Paediatricians’ notes, and Feelings (which she almost always left blank).

She updated it weekly. Sometimes daily. Just in case.

And she knew, clinically, that speech development wasn’t one-size-fits-all. That some children talked at eight months and others waited until twenty. That it was normal, even healthy, for some toddlers to take their time.

But normal never did much to soothe her.

Especially not when the silence had started to feel louder than it should.

Ada babbled — just not much. She gestured, pointed, tugged their hands, grunted with specific frustration when her needs weren’t met. She understood them. That wasn’t in question. But her lips hadn’t shaped a word yet. Not one.

At twenty-two months, Amelia was trying not to spiral. But her spreadsheet had too many empty cells. Too many quiet mornings.

“Maybe she just doesn’t have anything she feels like saying yet,” Lando said one night, rolling onto his side to face her in bed. Ada had gone down late and Amelia had spent the evening researching speech therapy assessments and second-language interference.

“She should have at least one word by now,” Amelia muttered, eyes on her screen.

“She’s got plenty. She just hasn’t said them out loud.” Lando reached out, nudged the laptop closed. “She’s fine. You know she’s fine.”

Amelia sighed. “You always say that.”

“Because it’s always true.”

She wanted to believe him. She really did.

—

The next afternoon, Ada was with them in the garage — tucked into her earmuffs and her tiniest McLaren hoodie, perched in her playpen while Amelia ran final aero checks on a new floor configuration. Lando had stopped by between simulator sessions and was now crouched beside Ada, offering her a padded torque wrench like it was a teddy bear.

Amelia looked up from her laptop, distracted by a little squeal.

Ada had pressed both palms against the concrete floor. And a smudge of oil had made its way across her hand.

She looked at it, then at Lando, wide-eyed.

Then she scrunched up her nose, a perfect mirror of her mother’s expression, and said, clearly and without hesitation, “Yucky.”

Lando blinked. Froze. Then looked up at Amelia, stunned.

“Did you—? Did she just—?”

Amelia’s heart felt like it missed a step. Her head jerked up so fast she hit the underside of the wing she’d been crouched under.

“Ow—shit—”

Lando was already lifting Ada out of the playpen, laughing in disbelief, oil smudge and all.

“Say it again,” he coaxed gently. “Yucky? Yucky, bug?”

Ada just beamed at him and smacked his cheek with her dirty little hand, leaving a streak behind. “Yucky,” she declared again, giggling like she knew exactly what she’d done.

Amelia didn’t know whether to cry or pass out.

She walked over in a daze, eyes locked on her daughter. “She said it. She actually said—”

“Yeah,” Lando said, grinning. “You heard it too, right? I’m not making this up?”

“No,” Amelia said, soft and stunned. “I heard it.”

Then she reached for Ada without hesitation. Let her daughter press her messy little face into her neck and pat her collarbone with smudged fingers.

Yucky.

It wasn’t what she expected.

But it was perfect.

—

2027

Grid kid.

Ada Norris was a grid kid.

Not the official kind, with a lanyard and uniform and carefully timed steps. She wasn’t old enough for any of that. She wasn’t even tall enough to reach the front wing of her father’s car without climbing onto someone’s knee.

But she was there — always. Like a mascot, a comet, a little bit of joy wrapped in neon.

At three years old, Ada had developed a sense of style entirely her own. This week, it was neon pink. Head to toe. From the glittery bucket hat she refused to remove, to her sparkly tulle tutu layered over orange papaya leggings, to the pink Crocs decorated with star-shaped charms.

She stuck out like a sore thumb against the rest of the paddock; all matte branding and fireproof greys. But nobody dared to comment.

She was Ada.

Everyone knew Ada.

She’d grown up within the walls of paddocks. Learned to walk behind the McLaren hospitality motorhome in Hungary. Her first solid food had been a biscuit stolen off Oscar’s pre-race snack plate. Her mini paddock-pass gave her access to every team’s motorhome, just in case she got lost and needed a soft place to land.

By now, she knew the names of every mechanic, every engineer, and every race director on the rotating FIA schedule. She greeted them all by name. Correctly. And she remembered who liked what kind of sweets.

The media barely saw her. That was a conscious boundary. Amelia — razor-sharp, unbothered by PR expectations — had drawn the line early and made it immovable. No up-close photos of Ada’s face. No intrusive questions. If Ada wanted to be public someday, that would be her choice — not something sold for a headline before she could spell her name.

But within the paddock itself, Ada was a fixture. A streak of colour and mischief. Fiercely protected. Fiercely loved.

And she had routines. Rituals, really.

One of them involved storming onto the grid like she owned it (Amelia walked slowly behind), pushing past engineers and camera rigs, and beelining toward two very important people.

The first: her uncle.

“Ducky!”

Oscar turned the moment he heard her voice, already crouching down with open arms. He was in his race suit, grinning like he hadn’t just been pacing with nerves ten seconds earlier.

“Oi,” he said, “that’s not my name, trouble.”

“But it’s what Mummy calls you!” Ada argued, already climbing into his lap like a koala. “I remember!”

“She’s got you there, mate,” Lando called from a few feet away, amusement curling through his voice.

Oscar rolled his eyes but leaned forward for his good luck kiss. Ada planted a dramatic one on his cheek, complete with a mwah sound effect, then hopped off and marched across the grid to Lando.

Her daddy.

He crouched before she even reached him. She barrelled into his arms with the enthusiasm of a girl who had never once doubted she would be caught.

“You ready, Ada Bug?” he asked as he scooped her up.

“Ready!” she chirped.

“Gonna give me a boost?”

She nodded solemnly, then leaned forward to kiss him right on the tip of the nose — her signature move. Soft, sticky-lipped from the fruit pouch she'd insisted on finishing on the way in. Then she whispered, very seriously, “Be fast. And be smart. Love you, Daddy.”

Amelia, standing just behind them, caught Lando’s expression shift; just a fraction. A sudden, raw quiet behind his eyes. He pulled Ada closer, briefly, wordlessly. Pressed his nose into her hair.

Then, carefully, he passed her back to Amelia.

Amelia took her easily — muscle memory now — resting Ada against her hip like a second heartbeat. She adjusted the strap of her crossbody bag with her free hand and took a long sip of her iced coffee.

“Drive fast,” she said evenly, meeting Lando’s eyes.

He smirked faintly, already turning back toward his car.

“Be safe,” she added.

He nodded once, familiar rhythm.

And then, casually, almost too casually, she added, “I’m pregnant.”

He froze. One step from the car. “What?”

“I’m pregnant,” she repeated, softer this time. No smile, no build-up — just fact, like announcing the weather.

They hadn’t expected it. Not exactly. They’d been trying for a few months, hopeful but guarded. Amelia had been tracking everything — methodical as ever — but refusing to let herself get too wrapped up in the outcomes. Lando had taken a more gentle approach. Faith over control. He’d just kept telling her, It’ll happen when it happens. We’re already a family.

And now it was happening.

For a heartbeat, Lando didn’t move.

Then he turned fully — slow, like gravity had stopped working — and blinked at her.

Ada, oblivious, was babbling about how she wanted to wave the checkered flag today and if Max’s cats could come to the garage next time.

But Lando only stared at Amelia.

“Oh,” he breathed, voice cracking wide open. “Holy shit.”

Amelia’s mouth tilted upward. Barely.

He was already in his race suit, just minutes from lights out, about to hurtle into one of the most competitive qualifying sessions of the season — but suddenly, he looked younger. Dazed. Entirely undone.

His hands hovered in the air like he wanted to reach for her — didn’t know where to begin.

And Amelia, ever precise, ever composed, leaned in and kissed him. Quick. Solid. Grounding.

“We’ll be fine,” she murmured against his lips. “We always are.”

“Another baby?” he whispered, reverent.

She nodded.

Lando let out a breath. One hand came up to his chest like he needed to physically hold it all in — the awe, the fear, the quiet wonder of it.

Then his comm crackled: “Two minutes to final call.”

He blinked. Straightened. Looked at his wife. Then at his daughter. Then back again.

“Okay,” he said, drawing in one last steadying breath. “Right. Fast. Clever. Safe.”

“Love you,” Amelia told him.

“Love you,” he echoed, already stepping toward Will, adrenaline and awe carrying him forward.

Ada tugged gently on Amelia’s shirt.

“Mummy?”

“Yes?”

“Can I go and tell Maxie you’re gonna have a baby?” she asked, eyes wide and serious.

Amelia bit back a laugh and turned them toward the edge of the grid. Her mum was already waiting near Lando’s garage to take over babysitting duty.

“Not yet. Your daddy drives better with adrenaline,” she said, adjusting Ada’s ponytail with one hand, “but your Uncle Maxie gets distracted. We’ll tell Maxie another time, okay?”

“When?” Ada asked, frowning a little.

“I think… we’ll tell him next week. At the wedding.”

Ada’s face lit up. “I can’t wait to wear my pretty dress, Mummy!”

Amelia kissed her forehead, pulling her a little closer as they weaved between team personnel.

“I know, baby,” she said softly. “You’re going to look beautiful.”

—

202X

He did it.

The air was electric. No — it was charged, like the world itself had paused mid-spin to catch its breath.

Lando stood on the top step of the podium, champagne in one hand, heart in his throat. There were tears in his eyes — real ones, wild and stinging, completely unfiltered. His face was flushed, soaked from the spray, but his grin was a thing of pure, stunned wonder.

He’d done it.

World Champion.

A cheer rolled across the circuit like thunder. The fireworks lit up the sky behind him in great booming waves, streaks of orange and silver and gold — and below, just past the glittering wall of photographers, she was there.

Amelia.

The crowd blurred. The moment blurred. But she didn’t.

She stood at the base of the podium steps, her hair tousled from wind and chaos, arms crossed tightly across her chest like if she didn’t hold herself together she might simply combust. Her eyes were glassy. Her face unreadable — until it wasn’t.

Until he stepped down and reached for her.

Until she moved without hesitation.

He caught her with the kind of ease that didn’t need choreography — years of knowing her weight, her stillness, her everything. His arms wrapped around her middle, and before she could say a word, he spun her. Under the lights. Under the fireworks. Under the full, beating heart of a decade in the making.

Her laugh cracked open the noise. Her legs curled up instinctively. Her hands dug into the back of his fire suit.

She said his name, just once. No title. No superlatives. No team radio.

Just him.

Lando.

He set her down slowly, like she was fragile, like the moment might shatter if he moved too fast — but she leaned forward and kissed him, hard, on the corner of his mouth, where the champagne had pooled and the smile wouldn’t quite leave.

The world spun again.

And somewhere, behind it all, Ada was being passed from Oscar to George to Max to Amelia’s mother, hands raised above the crowd as she screamed, “Daddy, daddy, daddy!”

@/f1

Lando Norris is the 202X Formula One World Champion.

What a season. What a finish. What a moment. 🧡👑 #WDC #LandoNorris #F1

@/mclaren

No words. Just joy.

Congratulations, Lando. You’ve earned every second of this.

And yes — that podium was everything. No, we’re not crying, you’re crying. 🧡🧡🧡

@/formulawivesclub

There is NOTHING more powerful than a man who wins the WDC and immediately spins his wife under literal fireworks. Iconic. Romantic. Cinematic. I am unwell. 😭😭😭

#WifeOfTheChampion #AmeliaNorris #PowerCouple

@/uncleducky44

the most magical WDC celebration this sport has seen in decades. maybe forever. PAPAYA ON TOP

@/maxverstappen1

*photo of Ada asleep on his shoulder post-podium, wearing her dad’s cap*

she said she had to stay up to see the champion. i think she made it to the fireworks. ❤️

—

202X

Final lap.

The sun was setting in streaks of copper and violet. Floodlights cast the track in electric brilliance, shadows long and sharp. And the world was holding its breath.

Oscar Piastri led by six seconds.

Not enough to coast. Not when Lando was behind him.

Not when the championship hung in the balance — years of sweat and heartbreak and razor-wire precision culminating in this.

From the pit wall, Amelia’s voice came through steady and clear.

“Final sector. No traffic. You’re clear. Bring it home, Ducky.”

No theatrics. No screaming. Just her voice, the one constant he’d had for the entirety of his F1 career. Focused. Fierce. Full of something rare and warm and undiluted: belief.

“Copy,” Oscar said, breath hitching.

And then, in the most un-Oscar voice imaginable — thick with feeling, stripped raw, “…I don’t think I’m breathing.”

She laughed. A beautiful, cracked little sound. The comms team didn’t mute it. No one could. “Please breathe.”

He crossed the line a moment later. P1.

The fireworks hit the sky immediately; red and gold and brilliant. The pitman and garages erupted. McLaren, orange-clad and screaming, split open with euphoria.

And then Amelia’s voice again; louder this time, breaking apart at the edges: “Oscar Piastri. You are a Formula One World Champion.”

Silence.

Oscar didn’t reply. He just let out one long, disbelieving breath, and you could hear the hitched sound of someone trying not to cry and failing anyway. “We did it, Amelia.”

“You did it,” she corrected.

“No,” he said, firm now. Fierce. “We did. All of it. Every lap. You’re the best engineer and best friend I could’ve ever wished for. God, I love you so much.”

The audio went everywhere. Uploaded by the team, by fans, by rival engineers who had no choice but to respect it.

Two minutes of radio. Intimate. Impossible.

It was the most-streamed F1 clip of the year.

Because there he was — Oscar, still barely in his mid-twenties, helmet resting on the halo of his car, chest heaving as the gravity of it sank in.

And there she was; Amelia, halfway to the pit barrier, shoving her headset at a stunned junior engineer, sprinting.

He met her halfway.

She didn’t usually hug. But she did then. Tight and wordless. Face buried in his chest. Years of partnership and pride wrapped into that single, silent second.

And when they pulled apart, he knocked his forehead against hers, grinning like a boy again. “Told you I’d win it.”

“I never doubted you.”

—

The footage of the podium showed Amelia next to the team, arms crossed, blinking hard. Oscar had to compose himself twice during the anthem. And when he raised the trophy, he pointed straight at her.

No words.

Just… pride.

—

2028

It started with coffee.

Not just any coffee — her coffee. The specific roast she loved from that tiny roastery near Lake Como. Brewed in silence while she slept in. No baby monitor, no toddler noise, no midnight feeding schedules. Just the steady hush of morning, and Lando moving through the kitchen like a man on a mission.

Amelia stirred around 9:00 a.m. — a luxury in itself.

There was a note on the pillow next to her.

Happy anniversary, baby. Today is yours. We’re doing it your way. Uncle Ducky has both of our babies today. Yes, willingly. Yes, I’m sure. No, you don’t need to check in on them.

Come downstairs when you’re ready. I’ve got step one waiting for you.

Love you forever,

— Lando

She blinked. Then smiled. Then got up without rushing — another gift.

When she padded downstairs, wrapped in one of his old t-shirts, she found him barefoot in the kitchen with a table set for two, sunlight spilling through the open balcony doors.

"Happy anniversary," he said softly, crossing to her with a hand on her cheek and a kiss that lingered. "Sit. Eat."

There were croissants from her favourite bakery in town. Raspberries and whipped butter. Her coffee, perfect. And Lando — already looking at her like the day was made.

“The kids?” She asked eventually, narrowing her eyes.

“Totally fine. They always are with Oscar. He made me promise not to call unless someone was bleeding. He said that you deserve a proper day off.”

“I don’t need a day off from my children,” she muttered, but the corner of her mouth twitched. “But it’ll be nice to be able to kiss you without tripping over one of them.”

“Exactly,” Lando said.

Breakfast faded into a walk — hand-in-hand along the coast, slow and sun-warmed. No schedule. No pushing. Just the faint hush of waves licking the edges of Monaco and the occasional squeeze of Lando’s fingers in hers.

They didn't talk much, and that was deliberate.

Afterward, instead of a spa or anything tactile, he drove her twenty minutes out to their favourite low-key golf course — a hidden gem tucked against the edge of a hill, quiet in the off-season.

It had started a few years ago, this habit of hers. Her golf-ball collection was ever-growing, each one labeled and tucked into a little wooden tray above the fireplace. A more serious, tactile comfort that had slowly morphed into a silly, sentimental thing.

Lando had never once questioned the golf ball. Not in the beginning, not in the middle.

He just brought her to find the next one.

They played nine holes. She beat him on five.

He whined. She smirked. It was perfect.

She picked out a new ball from the pro shop (green) and tucked it into her coat pocket.

“You’ll label that one later?” Lando asked, swinging her hand between them as they walked back to the car.

“Yeah,” she replied. “It's Ada’s favourite colour.”

“This week.” He said.

She smiled fondly. “Yeah. This week.”

—

Lunch came after.

A rooftop place they both loved but hadn’t been to since before Ada was born. White tablecloths, soda on ice. Her favourite risotto, his ridiculous stack of truffle fries, two hours of soft conversation without a single interruption from a baby monitor or a toddler needing to pee.

No baby wipes in her bag. No cutting food into tiny, manageable pieces.

Just them.

—

The sun was setting when they got back to their place.

Amelia kicked off her shoes by the door and reached for her hair tie. Lando caught her hand before she could disappear upstairs.

“One more thing,” he said, almost shy. “Come with me.”

They climbed to the top-floor balcony; her favourite spot in the house. There, waiting: a blanket. Two glasses of wine. A bowl of green olives (Amelia’s vice). And a tiny projector already humming against the far wall.

She raised an eyebrow.

Lando pressed play.

Clips started to roll. Grainy little moments he’d stitched together over months — Ada’s first steps down the hallway at the MTC, the hospital selfie when Amelia had delivered their second baby (Lando’s eyes red from crying, Amelia’s thumb still smudged with blood), lazy footage of her asleep on the couch with both kids curled up on her chest.

Her laugh in the background of a hundred quiet seconds. The clink of teacups. The sound of a little voice calling, “Mummy, look!”

Then his voice — low, warm, recorded late at night from the quiet corner of their bed, “I’m so in love with this life.”

Amelia said nothing. She was biting her lip a little too hard.

Lando didn’t push. He just shifted behind her on the blanket, pulling her gently between his legs and wrapping his arms around her waist — not too tight, just enough to say I’m here.

“You always make things perfect for everyone else,” he said into her shoulder. “So I wanted to make one perfect day for you.”

She swallowed once. Then leaned her weight back into him, just a fraction — a silent thank-you.

The sun dipped lower.

The stars began to nudge through.

And finally, softly, “Thank you,” she whispered. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“Impossible, I think.” She admitted, truthfully.

Lando smiled into her hair and didn’t let go.

—

Later that night, Oscar sent a photo of Ada fast asleep on a pile of couch cushions in the middle of his flat, a cereal box half-open in the background.

Amelia texted back a blurry photo of her and Lando curled up on the balcony under a blanket, the projector still casting shadows across the wall.

Perfect day complete.

—

2030

The meltdown crept in slowly.

It always did.

Amelia had been trying to hold it back for hours — maybe days, if she was honest. The world had gotten too loud again. Too bright. Too many textures and demands and interruptions.

The fridge was humming wrong. Ada had spilled orange juice and then cried when her leggings got wet. The baby had been colicky all night. Lando was out doing media. Someone had moved the coffee mugs and none of them were in the right order.

She was standing in the kitchen, clutching the edge of the countertop so hard her knuckles were white, when it all finally crashed down on her.

Her chest seized. Her eyes blurred. The sound in her ears turned to static.

Everything felt wrong. Too much. All at once.

And she couldn’t hold it in anymore.

She slid to the floor, knees curling up, hands covering her ears. Her breathing shortened. She rocked back and forth. Tears leaked out — not from sadness, but from pure sensory overload.

Across the room, Ada, six years old, in a T-shirt covered in glitter paint and crumbs, froze where she stood.

For one long moment, she just watched.

Not afraid.

Just... thinking.

Then, without a word, she turned on her heel and sprinted down the hallway.

She found her daddy in the bedroom, changing the baby’s nappy. He’d only come home a few minutes ago. Her little hand tugged at the hem of his shirt urgently.

“Daddy,” she whispered, breathless. “Mummy needs you.”

Lando paused. His head whipped up instantly. “What’s wrong, little-pea?”

“She’s on the floor. She’s crying with her hands on her ears. She’s not talking.”

Lando’s jaw jumped, but he kept his cool and handed Ada her baby brother. “Stay here, okay? You hold him and don’t move. I’ll go help Mummy.”

—

Amelia was still in the same spot, crumpled in front of the dishwasher, the noise of the appliance now too sharp, like claws dragging through her skull.

Lando knelt slowly beside her. Not touching. Not speaking yet. Just breathing in sync.

A beat passed.

Then two.

“I’m here,” he said quietly.

She didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

“I knew the dishwasher was making a weird noise,” he added gently, knowing exactly what she was hearing. “I’ll call someone to fix it tomorrow.”

Her shoulders twitched.

Still too much.

He sat down properly beside her, close but not touching, and began counting out loud.

“One. Two. Three. Four. Five…”

The rhythm gave her something to hold on to.

He kept going. Soft. Steady.

“…twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

When he finally reached forty, her hands lowered. Just a little. Her breathing slowed.

Lando waited.

And when her eyes finally fluttered open — puffy, red-rimmed, exhausted — he reached out with one hand, offering it but not insisting.

She took it.

No words, just pressure — fingers threading through his, grounding herself.

“I hate this,” she rasped, barely audible. “I was fine. I should’ve been—”

“Nope,” he said. “No rules. No shoulds. You just were. And now you’re here. That’s all that matters.”

Amelia blinked. Let out a breath that stuttered on the way out.

From the doorway, a soft voice, “Mummy?”

They both turned. Ada was peeking in, barefoot and clutching the baby monitor against her chest.

“I put the baby in his chair,” she said proudly. “And I put my light-up shoes away so they won’t hurt your eyes.”

Lando smiled faintly. Amelia just blinked again, overwhelmed by the careful compassion of a six-year-old.

Ada padded over, crouched carefully beside her mum, and offered a tiny, glittery toy dinosaur — the kind she usually kept in her backpack for comfort.

“You can hold this if it helps,” she said seriously. “Sometimes it helps me.”

Amelia took it with shaking fingers.

Then, finally, finally, she opened her arms.

Ada climbed into her lap.

And Lando wrapped them both up in his arms, squeezing tight.

—

Later that night, when things were quiet again and the world had shrunk back to something manageable, Amelia whispered into the crook of Lando’s neck, “She went and got you. She knew.”

Lando kissed her hair. “She always knows,” he said. “She’s yours.”

Amelia smiled, small and raw. “No. She’s ours.”

—

2033

They were sitting under the shade of an umbrella, barefoot and sun-drowsy, watching their children build increasingly complicated sandcastles twenty feet away. Ada had her arms bossily crossed, giving instructions like a forewoman. Her little brother — all curls and slightly sunburnt cheeks despite the copious layers of SPF50 — was digging trenches with his hands.

Lando passed Amelia a cold can of peach iced tea.

She took it, absently, eyes on their kids.

Lando leaned back on his elbows, sighing. “Is it Thursday or Friday?”

Amelia didn’t answer immediately. Her sunglasses were halfway down her nose. Her hair was damp at the ends from her swim. “Friday,” she murmured. “Pretty sure.”

He nodded, squinting toward the sun. “Days have been blurring. If it’s Friday, it’s already the twelfth.”

He was right. The days had all started to melt together. Long mornings. Naps tangled in hotel sheets. Late dinners with sticky fingers and endless laughter.

Amelia sat up a little. Not sharply — but enough to catch her husbands attention. “Oh,” she said, very quietly.

Lando stared at her. “What, baby?”

She furrowed her brow. Like she was doing mental arithmetic. Calendar math. Gut instinct. “I’m… late.”

He blinked.

“…Like, how late?”

“Four days?” She said it more like a question. “Maybe five. I didn’t notice. With travel and the kids and— I don’t know.”

Lando sat up straighter, heartbeat suddenly louder in his ears.

They looked at each other.

Neither of them moved.

Down by the water, Ada shrieked with delight. “Mummy! We made a castle for the sea princess!”

Amelia waved back, mechanically, then turned back to Lando. “I didn’t bring a test.”

He scratched the back of his neck. “Should we go find a pharmacy?”

She hesitated. Then shook her head. “No. Not yet.” She reached for his hand, threading her fingers between his, palm warm. “Let’s just sit. Just for a minute. I want to stay here a little longer, before everything changes again.”

His grip tightened on hers. “Is that okay?”

Amelia nodded. “I’m happy. Just… surprised.”

Lando exhaled, gaze flicking back to their children. Ada was crowning her sandcastle with a plastic fork she’d found. Their son was diligently filling a bucket with sea foam.

“I think we’re gonna be outnumbered,” he said softly.

“I think we already are,” Amelia murmured, smiling faintly. “But that’s exactly what we wanted, isn’t it? Three of them. A couple of years apart. It’s perfect.”

And they sat there. Under the umbrella, hand in hand, watching the beginning of their forever shift again.

The ocean kept talking, its waves crashing against the rocks at the other end of the beach.

So did Ada — ever the chatter-box.

Amelia smiled. “Three is a good number.”

“Three of them. Two of us. Five total.” He murmured. “We’re missing four.”

“No we’re not.” She whispered. “You’re right here.”

He blinked, then he leaned in and kissed her.

—

2034

Ada slammed the front door shut with the theatrical force only a ten-year-old could manage.

“Mummy!” She yelled before she was even properly out of her shoes. “Mummy, I have to tell you something very important!”

Amelia looked up from the kitchen table, where she was re-assembling a snapped pencil sharpener and ignoring the half-eaten apple Ada had left on the kitchen bench to rot that morning.

“In here,” she called calmly.

Ada thundered in, socks half-falling off, her backpack barely zipped. Her cheeks were pink. Her plaits were lopsided.

“I’m in love,” she declared.

Amelia blinked once. “You’re what?”

Ada flopped dramatically into the chair opposite her. “I’m in love, Mummy. With a boy in my class. His name is Ethan and he wears Spider-Man socks and he let me use his sparkly blue gel pen for colouring even though he really likes it. He said I was clever.”

Amelia stared at her daughter for a long beat.

Then, she said plainly, “You’re ten.”

Ada sighed. “Yes, mummy. I know that.”

There was a pause.

From the hallway, the sound of keys jingling, the front door opening again.

Lando’s voice: “Where are my girls?”

“In the kitchen!” Ada called sweetly. And then, switching gears with dizzying emotional agility, she leaned in and whispered to her mum: “Don’t tell Daddy. He’ll make it weird.”

Amelia frowned. “I don’t lie to your dad. You know that.”

Ada just sighed because yeah, she did know that.

Lando appeared in the doorway a moment later, freshly back from sim training. “Why do I feel like I just walked in on a crime?”

Ada beamed. “No crime! Just secrets!”

“Oh, cool, that’s comforting,” he deadpanned, kissing the top of her head. Then he gave Amelia a suspicious side-eye. “What’s happening?”

“Well,” Amelia said, “your daughter thinks that she’s in love.”

Lando’s eyebrows shot up. “I leave her at that school for six hours—”

“Daddy!” Ada groaned, flinging her arms dramatically over her face.

“—and now she’s in love?” He leaned over her chair, mock-serious. “Who is he? What does he do? What are his qualifications?”

“He’s ten!” Ada squeaked.

“That’s not a qualification,” Lando said, faux-grave.

Amelia was biting back a smile now, watching them.

“Daddy,” Ada said solemnly, peeking at him through her fingers, “his name is Ethan, and he gave me the good gel pen. The sparkly one. That’s basically marriage.”

Lando clutched his heart. “God help me. Wait until I tell Max about this.”

“I knew you’d make it weird,” Ada whined.

“I am weird, Bug,” he replied, scooping her up despite her protests. “That’s your legacy.”

He spun her around like she weighed nothing.

Amelia smiled as she watched them.

But when Ada caught her eyes mid-giggle, cheeks flushed, safe and loved and full of her first little crush, Amelia just smiled at her.

And Ada smiled right back.

��

Nine Years Later

She doesn’t marry Ethan.

Of course she doesn’t.

He moves to Devon at the end of Year 6, and she forgets the way his name made her stomach flutter by the time she’s twelve.

The next crush is taller. The next one after that plays guitar.

None of them stick. None of them feel right.

But she never says anything. Because… she’s Ada Norris.

And Ada Norris grew up being known. Watched. Treasured.

She keeps the sacred things close to her chest.

Until one day, fourteen years after her dramatic kitchen confession, she finds herself in the back of the paddock in Monaco, barefoot and suntanned, her hair in a braid, with a camera slung over her shoulder and dust on her jeans.

She’s nineteen.

She’s laughing.

And in front of her, sitting on a pile of stacked tyres, grazed knees tucked up under his arms and ice cream dripping down his wrist, is him.

Ayrton Verstappen.

One year younger than her.

A lifetime of familiarity.

She’s known him since before either of them could talk properly.

They played tag between hospitality units. Swapped Pokémon cards in Red Bull’s simulator room.

He once peed in her toy car. She once cut his hair with nail scissors because she thought it would make him less ugly.

She never thought about marrying him.

Not seriously.

Not until she did.

It doesn’t happen all at once.

It’s the way he listens. The way he gets it — the legacy, the pressure, the strange ache of being a paddock kid with a famous surname and the expectation to become someone.

It’s the way he defends her when people assume too much.

It’s the way he doesn’t flinch when she stim-rambles or tells him she needs exactly ten minutes of silence.

It’s the way he waits — patient, steady, eyes bluer than any sky she’s ever seen.

She’s Ada Norris.

And someday soon, someday when the dust settles, and the stars line up just right, she’ll be Ada Verstappen.

And damn… it does have a nice ring to it.

—

2035

Amelia sat in the doorway of Sienna’s nursery, back pressed to the frame, coffee cooling in her hands. The house was quiet — unusually so. Ezra was napping. Ada was at school. Lando had taken a rare moment to go for a run.

And Sienna… Sienna was asleep. Peacefully. A soft halo of curls pressed into her muslin blanket, one fist curled beneath her chin like she’d already begun dreaming of something secret and important.

Amelia watched her, and breathed.

Three children.

Ada, her first, her fiercest, had taught her what love felt like when it broke you open.

Ezra had come quieter. A gentle soul with his father’s smile and a knack for slipping into people’s arms like he’d always belonged there.

And now… Sienna.

Her last. Her littlest.

Her loudest silence.

Almost entirely deaf. Diagnosed at three weeks old.

Amelia hadn’t cried — not then. Not when the results came in. Not even when the specialists had spoken gently about cochlear implants and early language support and accessibility.

She’d just… stilled. Absorbed. Pivoted.

It wasn’t grief.

Not exactly.

It was adjustment. Recalibration. Learning a new language — not just in signs, but in patience. In pace. In how to prepare for a life she didn’t know how to predict.

Sienna would be fine.

Better than fine. She had her father’s stubbornness and her mother’s ability to see patterns in chaos.

She had a sister who’d already started practicing fingerspelling at the dinner table, and a brother who kissed her ear every time she blinked up at him. She had grandparents, uncles, a paddock full of honorary aunties and mechanics and engineers ready to build her whatever she needed.

She had love. The whole, complex, unshakable kind.

Still, this baby, this challenge, this gift, it had made Amelia stretch in ways she hadn’t before.

And there, on the floor, in the hush of a warm afternoon, she finally let herself feel it all. The fear. The wonder. The sheer magnitude of how much she loved these children — all three of them. So differently. So fully. So irreversibly.

Sienna shifted in her sleep.

Amelia didn’t move.

Just smiled. Tired. Whole.

“Okay,” she whispered, more to herself than anyone else. “We’ll figure it out together.”

And they would.

They always did.

—

2038

The garden behind their Monaco home wasn’t large, but it was theirs.

The sea glittered just beyond the hedges, and the sunlight slanted golden through the lemon trees. There were chairs set out in uneven rows, a makeshift arch wrapped in white linen and fresh lavender. No press. No guest list politics. Just the people who mattered — their parents, their siblings, a few of their closest friends, and the three children who had rewritten their lives in the best possible ways.

Ada was fourteen and refused to wear anything but the pink dress she’d picked herself. Ezra, five, clung to Oscar’s leg until Lando knelt and whispered something that made him laugh. And Sienna — three and a half, curls pinned back with daisy clips, cochlear implant nestled behind one ear — was already signing “cake” to anyone who made eye contact.

Amelia stood barefoot in the grass, holding her bouquet with one hand and Sienna’s palm with the other.

Her dress wasn’t new. She’d pulled it from the back of the closet — the pale ivory one she’d worn to a gala years ago, the one Lando had stared at like he’d forgotten how to speak. Soft and silky against her skin, it still felt like him.

Lando met her halfway up the path, smiling like he always had.

“Hi,” he said, taking Sienna’s hand too. “You look beautiful.”

“You look sunburnt,” Amelia replied, then softened. “But handsome.”

Beneath the lazy sway of the breeze and the quiet murmur of waves, Lando took both her hands and said, “I’d marry you a thousand times in a thousand different lives. But I’m really glad I got this one. With you. With them. With all of it.”

Amelia, ever spare with her words, just said, “You’re the love of my life, Lando Norris.”

Later, while the kids played under the fairy lights, Max and Pietra poured champagne, and Oscar stole cake straight from the platter, Lando found her standing off to the side, heels dangling from one hand.

He wrapped an arm around her waist. Kissed the top of her head.

“That felt special,” he murmured.

“It did,” she said.

Because it only confirmed what they already knew.

They had each other. They had their home.

And their love had only deepened with the quiet weight of time.

The rest — as always — was just radio silence.

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bloorpeon · 4 months ago

Text

I cooked chat.

Fish world and their fish homes!

Au by @keferon

SO! Here’s how I think fish houses work based on your type of fish, starting with the gill mers.

Personally I think that the mer homes would be very hobbit style, and their furniture would be very old, more related to pirate furniture. Since they aren’t exactly going into modern human homes, they replicated what they found in ship wrecks. Of course the building techniques have grown since then, but with limited resources the look is generally the same.

Gill mer houses are fully flooded on the main section since they rely so heavily on the water. While they can survive for a short time out of water, the extended time breathing pure oxygen can make them sick. So their kitchens are partially flooded, allowing them room to quickly go back into the water while cooking.

This isn’t the same for other mers that rely on lungs and pure oxygen.

Their homes are partially flooded, still allowing them to swim in main parts but with large air pockets to take breaths. They have vents that blow in fresh air from the surface. Their kitchens have a thin layer of water on the floor, allowing them to slide around and minimize the effort it takes to move around. All kitchen have a smooth floor, can’t be having a bunch of scratches now can we.

They can’t use gas or fire for cooking, so they rely on electric stoves, which seems dangerous yes. But this is one of the reasons why the stoves are made of mostly non conductive materials, and they’re up on stilts so that the electricity doesn’t touch the water. If all else fails, most modern homes are built with safety measures that trip the “breakers” of that room entirely.

Most homes are made of stone, but if you live closer to the inner city then your home might have quartz mixed in.

Speaking of the city…

It’s just Iacon but underwater! But instead of the harsh and sharp edges and corners, everything is smooth and rounded. Lots of bubbled infrastructure, and a shit ton of windows!

Also pictured are some forms of houses. Top left shows a more common “suburb” where homes are built into mountains and cliffs. Bottom right shows common homes for more tropical mers.

There’s a whole multitude of different types of homes and how they work. Electricity and power run through underground cables, as well as most pipes. They get their power through water and wind, they have floating wind turbines, and all types of machines that are used for harnessing currents and riptides.

Though they’re not opposed from stealing from the humans on occasion.

Coming to my final description for this rant, the beds!

Fairly simple, gilled mers have bed that are fully submerged (usually made of seaweed and are shell shaped), and lunged mers have bed that keep their bodies in the water, but their heads up.

This concludes my insanity for today! Got questions or smth to add? Comment or send an ask, I’d love to make more things with yall

Okay bye bye

(Next time we’re talking about whale homes)

#sskisss #transformers #apocalyptic ponyo

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tac-the-unseen · 11 months ago

Note

Could you write slashers with a s/o who’s an artist? You can do with all/any you want but I would specifically like maybe the Sinclairs, Billy Lenz, Brahms and maybe Pinhead?

Slashers x Artist Reader + Pinhead

Micheal Myers:

•Pretends not to care, but he's an artist at heart

•If you sculpt or blind things he will insist on watching you over your shoulders

•Will steal supplies for you whether you ask or not

•if you Draw or paint, it's going on the fridge or wall

•He truly admires your work

Billy loomis & Stu macher:

•Billy and Stu really just lets you do your thing

•Stu suggest glitter no matter the work or meaning

•Billy Suggests You make a lot of gore pieces

•Both of them will go the extra mile to kill models for you, so you have a subject

•Both Jokingly propose to model nude for you

Thomas Hewitt:

•Loves it when you proudly show him your art

•if you draw/paint on paper, He'll build custom frames So he can hang it up

•If you paint on a canvas, He'll make you canvases so you can make more art

•If you sculpt/Make pottery He'll make a display case for your work

•He's very proudly flaunts it to the family

Bubba Sawyer:

•Shows you his Bone art

•Wants to make art with you

•No matter what you do, He wants to join

•Will be as happy as can be if you make crafts with him or use his supply of bones in your art

Bo Sinclair:

•His Brain immediately connects you to Vincent

•He subconsciously starts treating you like his brother, no matter your relationship with him

•When he goes to other town he grabs you and his brother some supplies

•kinda just plops you down with Vincent and expects you to to get along, especially if you sculpt

•That's about as nice as he can get

Vincent Sinclair:

•He's excited to have somebody who understands

•Will silently sit next to you well both of you work on your craft

•Feels oddly comforting to him

•His family has always been connected by art, even though they're not great people. So having you make art with him solidifies your position as family to him

•shows you his technique with wax working, and wants to teach you how to sculpt with wax

Lester Sinclair:

•pt. 3 of familial bond

•because he didn't receive much attention as a kid, He desperately tried to be an artist to gain favor of his mother

•It didn't click with him the way it clicked with Vincent so he was shoved aside for “real artists”

•If you sit down and make art with him, he will cry

•constantly seeking your validation and praise

•holds your art very dear

Billy Lenz:

•Yet another creature looking over your shoulder

•He's fascinated by your ability to create

•You have hands And he has hands, yet your creations are always different than his

•He's a little jealous

•demands you teach him how to be better

•If you already don't know he'll show you how to crochet in return

Brahms Heelshire:

•In All his time locked away He has had plenty to make art

•He focus on the more classical sides of painting and traditional drawing

•He makes stunning portraits, So if you have a different art style it confuses him

•He's lived his life very sheltered so at first he might not even consider it art

•He later learns how much time and care you put into these works and starts to appreciate your dedication

•He also steals some of them to put up in his room

Hannibal Lecter:

•Very excited

•Starts showing off his own private art collection

•Takes it upon himself to teach you “proper technique”

•Gives you random history lessons on your choice of art form

•buys you very expensive supplies

Will Graham:

•Okay dude

•Doesn’t really care

•Just happy that you're happy

•Secretly admires your work when you are away

•Always make sure your work is safe and undamaged

The Lost Boys:

•Marko is immediately grinning ear to ear

•David pretends not to care

•Dwayne silently watches you

•Paul is all up in your personal space while you work

•No matter what you make or how proud of it you are, It's going in the horde pile with all their other treasures

•Paul and Marko asking you to draw them all the time

•If you do it's being hung up on the wall

Pinhead:

•Another artist in his own way

•He prefers body modification and rigging as his art form

•Will creepy watch you work from a distance

•He’ll give you polite criticism from time to time

•Seeing you so focused and dedicated makes him think of all the other past artists he's met

•Decides fairly quickly that you are his favorite

Thanks for reading <3

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luna-azzurra · 1 year ago

Text

Tips for Fight scenes #1

Consider how each character's personality, background, and motivations would influence their fighting style and tactics. A character who is impulsive might rush into a fight without thinking, while a more strategic character might carefully plan their moves. Use the fight scene as an opportunity to reveal hidden depths or conflicts within the characters.

Take advantage of the surroundings to add dynamism to the fight. Characters can use objects in the environment as weapons or shields, or they might use the terrain to gain tactical advantages. Think about how the setting could influence the flow of the fight and make it more engaging for the reader.

Describe the sights, sounds, smells, and sensations of the fight to immerse the reader in the action. Instead of just focusing on the physical movements of the characters, bring the scene to life by painting a vivid picture of the entire sensory experience. For example, describe the metallic tang of blood in the air or the adrenaline-fueled pounding of the characters' hearts.

Ensure that the fight scene serves a purpose beyond just showcasing action. It should advance the characters' emotional journeys or the overall plot of the story. Consider how the outcome of the fight will impact the characters and their relationships, and use it as a catalyst for further developments in the narrative.

Don't limit yourself to traditional weapons or fighting styles. Research different martial arts, historical combat techniques, and improvised weapons to add variety and authenticity to your fight scenes. Think about how each character's unique skills and resources would shape their approach to combat.

Use pacing, suspense, and foreshadowing to build tension leading up to the fight. Hint at the conflict to come, then gradually escalate the stakes as the scene unfolds. Consider incorporating moments of uncertainty or doubt to keep the reader guessing about the outcome.

Every character should have strengths and weaknesses that come into play during the fight. These vulnerabilities could be physical, emotional, or psychological, and they should add depth and complexity to the conflict. Think about how each character's flaws or insecurities might be exposed under pressure.

Show the aftermath of the fight and the impact it has on the characters and the world around them. This could include physical injuries, emotional trauma, or changes in the balance of power between characters or factions. Use the fallout from the fight to drive further conflicts and developments in the story.

#writing #writer on tumblr #writerscommunity #writing tips #character development #oc character #writing advice #writing help #creative writing #writing scenes #fight scene

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kenwio · 4 months ago

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Joker's kid! Reader and their hair adventures

Route: recovered dove

Masterlist | previous part | next part (coming soon)

Author's note: I finally did it! All the requests about Joker's kid and their hair journey are here! Hope I`ve done good enough ;3 This week was valentines Day. I know I'm late for it, bu I hope it went well for you ^-^

Warnings: Grammar (as usual), psychological trauma, triggers

Adjusting to the manor, getting alone with family, building friendship with Chlory, and attending therapy : all of those things improved your mental health greatly. On one of your session your therapist brought up the idea that you should find a healthy way to express yourself, as any kid should try at least, that you can experiment and showing your personality through your appearance, and to find your own style and after soke thought you decided to give it a shot.

You could try to wear colorful clothes, but you liked dark color scheme that you've seen your family (except Dick) preferred to wear and which you also picked up , besides every time you see purple and green clothes you feel uncomfortable. As for the style of clothes, you liked them relaxed comfortable and soft, so your style,.if you could say so, was exactly that, relaxed. The thought of body modifications went straight out of a window, you had enough of experiments on your body and enough experience with syringes your body for now. Makeup was.. to hard, you were still adjusting holding crayons, what to say about brushed. Besides, makeup had so many things and rules, styles that you didn't really catch up with. And so you decided that you should try to dye your hair. You knew you would NEVER dye your hair green! You don't want to have anything connected to the nightmare of your life anymore. But you remember your mom had tips of her hair colored, one of which was pink.

So you did some research on how to dye hair, types of dyes, techniques, and all the things. Although you had some vague memories of how your biological father dyed your hair, you can remember how the process was painful, you remember your mom told you that when she dyed her hair it, didn't hurt. A few times, she was able to dye your hair instead of Joker. She did so without hurt. Maybe this memory also made you more inclined to dye your hair. Maybe this way, you would still have some connection to her. Back to your new perception of hair dye, it wasn't that hard since you caught up on chemical reaction in the root of the process quickly. After reading about different types of hair dyes and different ingredients in them, you found one that was a good choice for you. The problem was how to get them.

Although you already brought up the idea of dyeing your hair to Alfred, you did not introduce your dad to the idea, and you had no idea how Bruce would react. And although Alfred was supportive of your idea (he was happy to know you found a courage to express yoursekf and joked that he would be happy too see something bright and not dangerous at the same time in the manor) you were not sure of Bruce.

You told him about you wanting to try dye your hair on the way to your therapy session. Although he knew you had a decision about it with therapy, he was still surprised to hear it. He gently asked you for your reasoning, and to your surprise on the way back, he took you to buy few hair dyes that was good quality and safe (he did all necessaryr esearch while waiting you) and haircare products which was good quality and suited for dyed hair. After Alfred helped you cut your hair in style you wanted, you began the process of hair coloring. You diligently followed instructions, coloring your strands in the right order, trying not to mess anything up. After you washed excessive dye and dryed your hair, you got your result. Your hair was pink, but not as bright as you thought (you knew about hair bleach, but you decided not to risk it), but you loved it. It was a cute color and a bit peachy.

Chlory, who was first to see you, couldn't contain her amazement repeating cute and loud "I am Chlory" over and over. The second who saw you, was Damian, who heard how loud Chlory and instantly went to check on you, hoping that you are okay (thought he would never admit it), and when he entered your room he was startled. He remembers you having your natural color of hair, one which he was used to, so seeing you with new hair color was .... surprising. He had to stare at you for a few seconds until you turned to look at him questionably

- Are you trying to make a statement? - he asked, a sharper than intended

- uh - you hesitated - no? Why?

- your hair ... it's different.. interesting. - he said, staring a few more seconds and walking away, leaving you confused.

Your family learned about your adventure soon enough, and all of them were accepting. While Jason was more surprised (silently praying it wasn't connected to the rebel phase (he had one so bad, and he was concerned for yours would be worse)). Dick was happy to know you started expressing yourself. He showered you with praises, saying how adorable you were, and you really were since you seemed more happy now and helped you do various hairstyles. For him, your cuteness went higher up, and his awe with you went to new levels. He also was happy to discuss with you what hair color you should try next. As for Tim, he was the one who notced that now you opened your obsession, connected to having all color's of hair dyes possible (except green), and he kinda enables it, showing you new tones and limited collections, leading to your bathroom becoming filled with dyes. You seem happy, so he is happy for you.

As your pink hair began to fade, you decided to go with the next color your mom had in her hair - blue. And, at first, it seemed fine. Sure, color turned out to be more turquoise than on the label, but it was fine. What you didn't expect is for color of your hair to wash out so quickly and suddenly. At first, you thought nothing of it. But one evening after the shower, when you saw yourself in the mirror, you saw green in your hair. It suddenly was hard and painful to breathe. Your heart hurt your ribs. The bathroom seemed to get smaller. You couldn't tear your eyes away. You swear you heard him. You couldn't move. You couldn't run or hide.

You skipping dinner made family worried. And they all decided to check on you to find you sobbing hard, breaking down. Jason and Tim were the first ones to get what was wrong and what triggered you... green in your hair. While Bruce and Dick helped you calm down, they exchanged a quick conversation, which led you to the moment: once you calmed down they acted instantly, knowing you don't need trigger (and they too), so here you were, sitting on the floor of Tim's bathroom with him next to you, and Jason on the edge of the bath . Tim is showing you blue hair dye, which fades to purple while instantly sending Dick to buy it, and Jason prepares your hair for the next coloring. You three spend the entire evening together (as a squad of kids who were danaged by Joker) working on your hair and leading it back to blue, and also talking lots. After that, and other's returning from patrol an emergency movie night was arranged starring yout favorite documentary, and while Bruce fall asleep holding you, few others went soon, leaving you and Damian to have a good and long discussion about film.

Your hair journey went on, featuring all the colors (even black for the connection with bats), different haircuts, hair dyeing done by all family, and more happy memories. You took the roud and you've certainly liked it

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Thank you for reading! Feel free to let me know what you think about my work! Hope you have a good day 💖

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Author's note 2 : it was only my first week back in studying field, but I alredy have so much work, I'm alredy tired, and I managed to get sick... I hope to post every week or every two weeks. Life is chaotic, but i will try my best to deal with it. And here i want to thank you all for your support, it means a lot to me 💖

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♡ Tag list ♡

if i forgot someone or anyone want to be added please let me know

@dearlawdimasimp , @shirp-collector-of-fixations , @socially-embarrassing , @leovergurl , @deathbynarcisstick , @cryptic-arr0w , @lynns-cornerr , @cxcilla , @charlotteking23 , @ninihrtss , @lillycore , @pix-stuff , @tfamidoingwithmylife , @linoalwaysknows , @00hellohello00 , @lilithskywalker , @bagofrice , @lenaisaloser , @devilslittlehelper , @camilo-uwu , @l3v1us , @eyeless-kun , @stargazingbutgayer, @wpdarlingpan , @weirdothatreads , @maybea1 @mel-viper-wayne @amber-content @lizzyzzn

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enchantedbat · 6 months ago

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Let’s talk potential: the specialists.

Why isn’t the potential of the boys explored and they go different routes? Surely, the Red Fountain doesn’t teach each the same and produces what we have now? Why are they different but end up doing mainly the same? The Specialists are not all the same guy with the same skills and aspirations. Let’s talk about some ideas I had.

Timmy. He is a technician, an inventor and a scientist. Among his skills are providing new technology, knowing enough about weaponry to easily build it and planning strategies for even the trickiest of situations. Mainly uses long-ranged weapons.

While appreciative of magic and impressed by the instincts of the others, he is going with logic and technology. He is responsible for upgrading but is also a walking arsenal. A multi-tool able to be easily transformed into a weapon of choice.

Timmy usually mans the aircrafts or uses higher grounds to attack. He knows his weaknesses and has created a battlesuit, similar to D.va, Iron Man or the Brotherhood of Steel armors.

Carries his multi-tool, a drone, a ranged weapon that can go from bow to rifle, special glasses to scan surrounding and a watch that activates his battlesuit.

Brandon. From the beginning, we know that he is a squire. His goal is to be a knight. One day, perhaps even the champion of Eraklyon (or Solaria?). His path started at the age of 7 where he was made a page in the court of Eraklyon. He was quite promising leading to him being trained by the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. Together with Sky, of course. At 14, he graduated to being a squire. His good grades, extraordinary skills and close relationship to Sky got him a place at Red Fountain. A man made for the battlefield, Brandon seeks to be an elite soldier.

To win against every opponent and be prepared no matter what, he possesses a basic degree of familiarity with all weapons and fighting styles. However, he concentrates and specializes on one weapon as well as mastering one combat technique to perfection - staying loyal to his phantoblade and sticking with swords.

While Brandon himself has no issues with magic, he had the goal to be a Knight of Eraklyon which means he uses non-magical weapons. (Perhaps Radius or Luna give him a legendary sword of Solaria with the power of the sun, stars and moon as an engagement gift) He is physically the strongest of the specialists (berserker-like strength) and resilient to certain kinds of magic using the force of his body.

Sky. He is a future king. Therefore, he is taught the basic fighting skills and such, but the main focus of his curriculum is diplomacy and strategy. One day, he will be the highest commander of military and security in his land solely by being the leader of said country. Knows the strength of the boys inside and out. Versatile but not as powerful as the others. Regularly training how to handle situations such as kidnappings or assassinations attempts. He can’t be as strong as the boys, he missed out a lot of training due to his classes on Eraklyon and state visits.

Sky is not useless. He is meant to lead this group and that’s what he does. Not by running first into action but knowing who is able to do what and when. Of course, he can defend himself but his girlfriend is literally the strongest fairy known and he is surrounded by the best of the best. Besides his sword, he has his hoverboard, his shield and his boomerang.

Riven. A survivor who had to rely on being cunning and stealthy. Who analyzes the vulnerabilities of his enemies to hit them hard and hides his own well because of that. But he also adepts fast to his surroundings. Maybe not one with nature but knowledgeable enough to hide himself and find others. With the help of Nabu, he finds himself positively connected to magic and knows that it is the magic user, not the power itself. That said, Riven uses magical weapons. He prioritizes subtleness and rather strikes once but hard. Keeps using a scimitar, but has a bunch of daggers hidden. His belt is full of smoke bombs, his bolas, toxins and even some explosives (like Batman). Interpret it however you want, but he mainly uses shadow-based and darkness-based magical weapons. That makes him a tiny bit proficient in this type of magic.

While Brandon knows the most fighting techniques, Riven has a broad range of skills. Picking locks, climbing, disarming traps, improvising weapons, detecting traps, becoming one with the shadows, tracking beings and such.

Helia. Related to one of the greatest wizards, Helia has a strong connection to magic. He also spends a lot of time with himself and mediating. The harmony between his body and mind helps him channeling his magic into attacks and more importantly: defense techniques. He stays true to himself and will always choose defending himself and others above attacking. That includes restraining and disarming enemies. Helia is trained in all martial arts and only has basic knowledge of weapons. Replacing his glove with a magical rope which is like the lasso of truth (Wonder Woman) but also a dart rope and a whip of sorts, because it can sense his intentions and emotions transforming into what he needs. Furthermore, his knowledge of the energy in his own body helps him to strike beings in the most powerful way like Ty Lee’s Chi-blocking (Avatar). Hitting the right weak point of a magical being can block their magic for a while or stop spells/attacks/whatsoever.

Nabu. He is alive and well.

Like fairies and witches, wizards share a scholarly approach to magic. Depending what path they choose, they can focus on their own affinity or master as many spells as possible, that’s what Nabu does. Reading about abilities, he can practice them and later use them. Some are connected to artifacts, books or scrolls. While his staff amplifies his natural power, it can also help channel his magic.

Simply said: He can do almost anything. However, he often needs a source for it. Nabu’s powers are illusion-based, which means the source for those abilities is literally him. If he wants to use a spell of another element, he has to find a magical source of it. Funnily enough, the Winx count. Often in fights, he will grab Bloom’s shoulder and scream “Fireball!”. His staff is a source too but I haven’t decided what type of power it carries - this needs continuation (and he needs a revival).

Specialists. They have their own dragons still but I would like them to have different dragons. We only see them with their own dragons at Red Fountain and I would like them to have these as practice and later tame their own - which should be different types! It doesn't need to be a dragon. It could be a griffin or even a hydra! It could differentiate specialists between magic and technology user.

(if you think, they are all very similar to DND classes: that’s what I based it on. Timmy is an artificer, Brandon is a fighter, Riven is a rogue/ranger, Helia is a monk and Nabu is still a wizard. Sky exists? I am sorry, Sky-fans. He is a king at least?)

#winx club #winx specialists #winx timmy #winx brandon #winx sky #winx riven #winx helia #winx nabu #winx shitposting #winx headcanons?#winx rewrite

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elicathebunny · 1 year ago

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HEALTH SHOULD ALWAYS COME FIRST! PRIORITISING HEALTH BEFORE EVERYTHING ELSE TO LOOK GOOD + FEEL GOOD.

People always leave out the basics when it comes to trying to improve their looks. Prioritising health is so important before going in and tempering with your body. Your base is what you work with and you can definitely level up with what you've got naturally.

DIET

Your diet also depends on what your goals are. Someone who wants to build muscle will obviously eat differently from someone who just eats relatively healthy. So identify what your goals are and work your meals around that.

Here are some videos to give you a better insight: HOW I LOSE FAT AND KEEP IT OFF MEANS, WORKOUTS + EVERYTHING ELSE PROTEIN EXPLAINED, STRENGTH, MUSCLES, FAT LOSS & ENDURANCE HOW METABOLISM WORKS

Diet not only makes you feel better from the inside, but it also reflects on your outside. Your skin is a huge display of how you eat.

When you consume junk food, it can show up on your skin as breakouts or dullness. Your skin is one massive organ which soaks up everything put onto it and reflects everything you put inside your body. Fix the problem from the inside before getting confused about why your skincare routine isn't working.

FITNESS

Again, your fitness will differentiate from your goals. So work out your goals and make a plan around that. There are so many forms of fitness, some more intense than others and with different results. Working out in general is good for you, our bodies are meant to move. So even if you don't have a goal, staying active is always recommended.

HOW TO CREATE THE PERFECT WORKOUT PLAN

THE BEST WAY TO GAIN MUSCLE, SCIENCE EXPLAINED SIMPLY

Low-intensity workouts:

Yoga: Focuses on flexibility, strength, and relaxation through various poses and breathing techniques.

Pilates: A low-impact exercise method that strengthens muscles, improves flexibility, and enhances posture.

Walking: Simple yet effective, walking is a great way to improve cardiovascular health and boost mood without high impact.

Swimming: Provides a full-body workout with minimal stress on joints, making it ideal for people with joint issues or injuries.

High-intensity workouts:

HIIT (High-Intensity Interval Training): Alternates between short bursts of intense exercise and brief recovery periods to maximize calorie burn and improve cardiovascular fitness.

CrossFit: Combines elements of weightlifting, interval training, gymnastics, and other exercises to build strength, endurance, and overall fitness.

Sprinting: Short, explosive bursts of running at maximum effort, often performed in intervals for cardiovascular conditioning and leg muscle strength.

Circuit Training: Involves moving through a series of exercises targeting different muscle groups with minimal rest in between, combining strength training and cardiovascular exercise.

These are just a few examples, but there are plenty of other workout styles out there to explore depending on your preferences and fitness goals. Walking every day is just a simple way to stay toned.

SLEEP

Sleeping is important for rest and recovery after workouts and energy-consuming activities. Sleep is needed for the brain to function, mood regulation and performance + productivity. Lack of sleep deprives you of all of these things, so getting your beauty sleep is absolutely needed.

School-age children (6-13 years): 9-11 hours per day.

Teenagers (14-17 years): 8-10 hours per day.

Young adults (18-25 years): 7-9 hours per day.

Adults (26-64 years): 7-9 hours per day.

HYGIENE

Upkeeping good hygiene is always needed anyway. Making sure you are clean (smelling good is a plus). Make sure you always wash your hands and take daily showers to remove any dirt on your body (clean those feet and your back well, don't forget them!). Taking care of your oral health must not be forgotten. Oil pulling and brushing your tongue for a healthy mouth. Make sure your hair is also getting the attention to keep it as healthy as you possibly can make it (this also depends on diet). Doing the extra things like spending time on your nails (making sure there isn't that stuff underneath them), making them pretty.

BODY CARE ROUTINE | FOR SMOOTH & GLOWING SKIN, TREATING KERATOSIS PILARIS, SHOWER ROUTINE

ENVIRONMENT

Having a stress-free environment is obviously the best to thrive in. But clearly not even being lucky enough to live like that constantly. So make sure you have that space to be on your own and have some alone time to really recharge. Keeping your space clean for a clear mind. Surround yourself with like-minded people and really set boundaries for those who prey on your mental clarity (energy vampires). Spending time in nature is one of the best ways to detach, rest time should not equal spending time on your devices. Let go and truly let yourself decompress. Mental health will improve how you carry yourself.

EMBODY YOUR POTENTIAL.

#self improvement #self worth #that girl #dream girl #self growth #glow up #self care

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bowelfly · 3 months ago

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i really admire how judicious and meticulous your hatching is!! as a self-taught ink artist, i get frustrated with how messy my inking gets when i try to darken large areas of shadow, especially when inking complex textures with lots of value variation (rumpled clothing, rocks, extremely shiny things etc). do you have any tips for balancing image clarity and values contrast when working with ink?

this is really flattering but also funny to me because i've long thought that one of my own biggest weaknesses as a fellow self-taught artist is my inability to be judicious with hatching and texturing, and i feel like much of the time i end up flattening things by applying too much texture everywhere. my current workaround for that is usually to apply ink washes or watercolors over the linework to rework the contrast.

i don't think i'm in a position to give any kind of authoritative artistic advice, but since you asked i think a lot of my own method comes down to trying to vary the density and orientation of my hatching based on material, lighting etc. maybe not the ideal example but here's a recent doodle that i think illustrates this.

moreover though i think ultimately it comes down to building up your hand's muscle memory so that you can lay down the lines at all different densities, distances, and orientations, and there are tons of drawing exercises and guides out there to help with that. after that it's largely just experimenting a lot and seeing what you like the look of. if you look back through my archives you can see all kinds of different drawing and shading techniques i've tried, sometimes just for a single piece, others i've kept and refined for years--and often then gotten bored with and moved on from. that's the fun thing about art! not to get off topic but i really don't think anyone should ever feel shackled to a single art style; you gotta always be playing around and trying new things.

anyway i have genuinely no idea if any of that was helpful. if anyone wants to put in their two cents or link to relevant resources they like, feel free.

#not sure what to tag this with #art tips #i guess?#you really shouldn't take art advice from me i'm just a bug scientist with too many side hobbies

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 year ago

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this isn’t exactly a question, but has twisted wonderland ever expanded on gender norms before? I know in sunset savanna women seem to be highly respected, but it seems like that is a behavior unique to sunset savanna. It seems like gender discrimination might be uncommon in briar valley because Mallenoa was so respected by her subjects, but Sebek, silver, and grim were surprised to find out she was so self sufficient and powerful when they met her in Lilia’s dream (this is more my interpretation tho) . in the endless night event, silver tells a story about a warrior who taught for her country, which is a reference to mulan i think, and the person he is telling the story to is very surprised that the strong warrior is a girl. I think silver told that story to Leona but I don’t remember. I’ve heard that royal sword academy is a school boys and girls can both attend, but night raven college is one of the most prestigious magic schools out there, so it being boys only makes me wonder if gender is a part of magic politics, although we have been shown female characters who have high educations and magical abilities such as Mrs . Rosehearts

No, not really? It’s explicitly mentioned and touched upon in extended conversations maybe a total of… 3ish times. Of those instances, most are referring to the Sunset Savanna.

Gender norms and politics are some of those elements of world-building that can come off as really ham-fisted and preachy if the characters stop everything altogether and just start expositing about it. Thankfully, TWST largely doesn’t take that “telling” route and instead “shows” us what they mean through subtle implications.

Now, for the most part I think the gender norms of Twisted Wonderland are similar to the real world, but may be more progressive overall.

For one, Twisted Wonderland has many male characters (both in NRC and beyond it) who openly wear cosmetics. No one ever comments on men wearing makeup or dressing up in a negative light. Sometimes they complain about putting makeup on (ie the effort) or certain fashions they don’t vibe with but never do they say it’s “not manly” for them to put on makeup/perfume/jewelry, care about their clothing, etc. Even the characters we traditionally think of as masculine (Jack, Leona, etc.) wear eyeliner and eyeshadow, jewelry, or try new styles of clothing. Floyd and Ace express interest in fashion. Jamil cares about the quality of textiles and Kalim is willing to buy tons of jewelry for himself (and his classmates!!) if the mood strikes him. Rook regularly compliments people’s looks and Cater has an eye for aesthetics too. Lilia brags that he is “cute” and likes to show off his cuteness to others. There's a whole group of students eager to learn more about makeup techniques from Vil (in his Halloween Dress vignettes). Idia, Jade, and Sebek see a photo of what they believe is Epel in a dress and automatically accept it. And, of course, we cannot forget our queen Vil, who champions the idea of challenging and redefining gender norms. He also shares these ideals with Epel, who has been called out by Vil for having “outdated” gender norms. Given that Vil is such a popular celebrity (5 million followers on Magicam), I get the impression that the sentiments he extols is a popular way of thinking and is the direction that TWST society wants to move toward. (This is assuming that his fans are mainly younger people.) The boys often “dress up” and wear different makeup when visiting new places such as Silk City and and Clock Town, so it appears that a lot of Twisted Wonderland society that we’ve explored leans more liberal when to comes to gender expression.

Another detail I think is important is that many of the Great Seven—in fact, over half of them—are women. This is notable because oftentimes history glosses over the achievements and accomplishments of women in favor of their male peers. The fact that NRC and all of Twisted Wonderland seems to honor them in addition to their male counterparts says something. The G7 women aren’t even the only instance of female figures who shaped history. Azul and Floyd, for example, have brought up the Mermaid Princess on multiple occasions, talking about how her union with a human prince and personal efforts have strengthened the bond between land and sea.

Gendered terms to refer to mages exist, but according to Lilia, “witches” and “wizards” are outdated (they were used during the human/fae war era of ~400 years ago). Currently, most prefer to use the gender neutral terms “mage” or sometimes “sorcerer”.

There does not appear to be gender restrictions in terms of the modern day workforce either. We know of the boys’ family members who are great mages or hold significant power or status. Mrs. Rosehearts is an accomplished medical mage, Mrs. Ashengrotto runs the most popular restaurant in the Coral Sea and his grandmother is a benefactor to those in the neighborhood, Mrs. Shroud is STYX’s Chief Engineer, Meleanor is an integral leader of Briarland’s military forces, Maleficia is queen, etc. Even the women in more mundane roles play vital parts in their communities: Mrs. Clover is a baker alongside her husband, Mrs. Zigvolt assists her husband in his dental clinic, Granny Bucchi supports him as his only relative, Marja travels and helps sell her family’s produce, etc. There are many economic opportunities for women in this world.

Some may point out that NRC is a prestigious all-boys school, so there aren’t opportunities for women in education. The same goes for RSA, which is another prestigious all/ boys school. To that, I say… that’s because NRC is a very limited scope of magic education as a whole. We don’t know how many other schools are out there or if all magic schools are boys only. It’s not impossible to think that there may be girls only or mixed schools out there—but the NRC cast are the ones this game focuses on, so we view things from that perspective. I’d also like to add that we only see male students from other schools because of meta reasons: 1) there are limited game assets, so some details are inaccurately conveyed by the live 2D models, and 2) this is a joseimuke, a game with a predominantly male cast aimed at a target audience of women. It makes sense that there wouldn’t be many live 2D assets for random female mobs.

There isn’t any lore in-game or in other official materials which would imply that women are discriminated against in education or in the workforce. However, Twisted Wonderland at large seems to still perpetuate gender expectations and gendered traits as we understand them irl. There are some instances when the idea of women having traditionally feminine interests are mentioned: (Suitor Suit) Ace complains that his ex only liked romance and animal movies, disliked thrill rides, and preferred cute things and taking Magicam pics; (Birthday Boy) Cater also mentions his mother and older sisters having interests in making sweets and cute things. Additionally, as Anon mentions, in Endless Halloween Night, Silver shares the story of Mulan, who pretended to be a man to save her father from enlisting in the army. He told this tale to Jamil (not Leona!), who reacts with surprise when he learns that this capable warrior is a woman. At the same time, there are “masculine” expectations vaguely alluded to: Deuce states he is the “man” of his household, Epel of course worries about his manliness and sees Savanaclaw, the athletic dorm, as “cool”, etc.

Of course, these gender norms are not pervasive nor are they the same everywhere in Twisted Wonderland. One extreme is demonstrated through Epel, who holds the most regressive beliefs prior to Vil’s influence. This leads me to believe that Harveston is one of these areas that perpetuates these beliefs—and when you think about its population, it makes sense. Epel tells us that his hometown is largely elderly people, who are more likely to hold conservative worldviews compared to young people. The community, being small and located pretty far from nearby urban centers, is also exposed to fewer ideas that differ from what they perceive as their “norm”. These factors will naturally shape its residents and inform how they interact with and perceive others.

I actually think that Briar Valley would also be one of those areas with regressive gender norms for similar in-universe reasons as Harveston. Briar Valley is described to us as a region mainly populated by long-lived fae… meaning they are pretty old and more likely to be conservative. Not only that, but the area is very isolated and fae in general prefer to keep to their own kind. Briar Valley is also said to be opposed to change and new ideas and technology being introduced to their land. All of these factors suggest they would have more old-fashioned ideas about gender, not progressive ones. Meleanor and Maleficia may be widely respected and viewed as capable women, but I do not think it is fair to extrapolate how magically gifted monarchs of the Draconia bloodline are viewed to the governed population. It is more likely that they are the exception, not the rule. This better explains why Sebek and Silver, who are technically subjects of Briar Valley, are surprised to learn of a powerful princess. Their shock, as well as how Lilia describes human princesses as being meek and needing protection, also implies the usual gender norms. Given that humans seem to be the majority race in Twisted Wonderland, it means those gender expectations were predominant at the time.

The Sunset Savanna is the only country we know of at the moment where women are noted to be viewed differently. According to Leona, he “respects women” since the women back in his home country are physically stronger and stronger-willed than men. (This may be a reference to how irl lionesses do most of the hunting.) It’s not uncommon to see women in high-ranking warrior or guard positions because of this. This implies that the gender roles are somewhat reversed here; women are the ones expected to be strong, not men.

Slight tangent here: I don’t particularly subscribe to the idea that “strong” women are somehow better or more deserving of praise than “weak” women. It’s a fallacy that I see perpetuated way too often in media. True feminism does not mean demonizing what is seen as traditionally “feminine”, nor does it mean women can only be independent or strong by acting in traditionally “masculine” ways. Feminism means not judging or holding back women from pursuing whatever it is they want to do, be it a career of their own, homemaking, or anything in between. Women can be strong and admirable no matter what they choose to do with their lives.

Okay, so Twisted Wonderland does operate on gender norms—but that does NOT inherently mean that Twisted Wonderland is a sexist hellscape. Gender discrimination is on a spectrum, and we’ve yet to see any blatantly regressive demands be taken as anything of real merit in TWST. If anything, they get clowned on and told off as much as Sebek is for his anti-human sentiments. And, as I’ve pointed out earlier, Twisted Wonderland on the whole appears to accept and normalizes things that may not be widely accepted irl— namely, men in makeup or in traditionally feminine fashion. There’s also many examples we can look to of regular women in power or jobs across the world of Twisted Wonderland.

We also need to remember that TWST was penned by people who also live in a society of gender norms, so it’s expected for their lived experiences to also bleed into the worlds they create. It doesn’t make them bad people, it just makes them human. They write what they know and also play around with the ideas of different societies—those that skew in both directions (as we see with Harveston vs Sunset Savanna).

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durtblog · 4 months ago

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somerandomdudelmao · 2 years ago

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Oooo composition?

Like how all F!Leo is put at a low angle (looking upward) so he appears taller and powerful, while P!Leo is put at a high angle (looking down) so he looks smaller. Especially while he’s fumbling over his words and being embarrassed.

Then NOT ONLY does F!Leo gets down to his level, the “camera” angle is also higher (looking down) so Leo appears smaller, and P!Leo is suddenly put in a low angle (looking up) so it looks like P!Leo is the hero or more powerful person.

Then after the air is thinned out, they are level. Looking at eachother in the same space. Neither higher than the other (other than height differences which lord it is a big one).

Hehehehehehe

Oh my god, yes yesyes thank you. I'm glad to see how many people are picking up on the perspective thing.

But also, I want to add a little bit to this topic because there's also another environmental storytelling technique here. It's probably ..like...totally unnoticeable thing because my style is pretty messy, but anyway.

Those lines. The lines that visually separate the characters.

The first part of the dialog, Leo looking up at Leonardo. And the line (side of the building technically but eh) separating them.

Then, the perspective changes. Leonardo goes down on his knee and is below Leo. And at the same time, he crosses that line, finding himself in the same visual space as the child version of himself. He makes a connection.

Next part. Change of perspective again and...Leo is looking at Leonardo from below again yes, but now he begins to cross the line too.

Until they both do, while the perspective evens out without understating or overstating either of them.

#I dunno #cas details #I guess #it's such a tiny thing and not that important #but I like to talk about any interesting details if I have an excuse hehe #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #riseofthetmnt

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grogumaximus · 2 months ago

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Driving Style Secrets Episode 1: Max Verstappen | Edd Straw and Mark Hughes

Edd: (...) So as a starting point, let's just have a basic overview of how Max Verstappen drives. And then perhaps we can explore some of the details of that as we go on.

Mark: Yeah, well, as we say, it depends upon lots of different things, and it's important not to get too dogmatic about it, especially with Max, because he is very, very adaptable, and he does think a lot about it, and especially with his sim racing, he's constantly comparing techniques in a way that you don't have time to do in the real thing. So he does employ a lot of different styles, but he does have a preferred technique, which is, you normally see it in slow to medium speed corner entries. It's fairly early into the turn with a bit of braking overlap, so he's building up the cornering force as he's reducing the braking. Lots of momentum really meshes those two elements of braking and lateral forces together, a bit like Lando Norris in fact. Then once he's got the speed down and the brakes are off, sometimes there's a second bite of the steering when the car's more ready to accept it to get that last little bit of turn. But it's more dynamic than with most other drivers. It's like he's more keyed into the moment, keyed into the grip and the balance of the car in that moment. And he can feel it earlier and adapt what he's doing sort of moment by moment. So if the grip's not there as he's trying to build up the cornering force with the braking force, he'll maybe reduce the braking a little bit and turn in a little bit later, just trying to get that front tire to wake up and respond. And it's a very adaptable technique. It comes into play when the limitation of the car changes between the front and rear tires. As the tires wear and the fuel load comes down, it allows you to be more flexible. And I think because he's got that instant sort of adaptation, that flexibility gives you lap times more consistency. So because he's constantly adapting to what the car and the tires and the track surface are doing.

Edd: I would say if you want to see some of that adaptability showcased, the Suzuka pole lap on board from this year is quite a good example in terms of how it's not kind of a lap of perfection and precision, but it's a lap of perfection in terms of responding to what the car needs and trying to drive around some of the limitations. And I think that's a really, really good showcase of what he can do. But I think one of the important things with Max is he does have phenomenal sensitivity in terms of being able to Feel what the car is doing and interpret that feedback really really fast because that's what it comes down to doesn't it? You've got an input in terms of all of that that feel and information you're getting you've got to process that as close to instantaneously as possible and nothing happens instantaneously and then you've got to transition that into an output and It's not I mean you could talk about it being reactive and in a way it is but it's not like you know it's quite easy to drive a car reacting well after the event and that's how you can get quite a spectacular driving style when the car's all over the place and you might think wow that's brilliant but actually these days that that doesn't work because the way the cars are once you get into that really obvious sort of sideways sliding or whatever you've long since ruined whatever corner you're particularly in but that to me seems at the heart of Verstappen's ability just just the pure mechanics of it and then the pure mental processing of it to absorb that and then transition it into an output in what's a matter of a tenth of a second.

Mark: Yeah, and I think part of that is because he's not even having to think about it because he's thought about it so much in advance. He doesn't do anything else almost. In between races, he's on the sim and if he's not sim racing, he's actually using his sim to try and replicate real situations. And you saw that in 2015, when he went around the outside of Blanchimont, of Felipe Nasr. And that was a move that nobody had seen be pulled off before, but he practiced it and practiced and practiced it on the sim. And for the first like 50 times or something, he practiced it. He couldn't get it to work, but he did find a way of making it work. And so when that situation presented itself, it was already there, it was already built in. And it's the same with his, how he reacts to any changes in the grip and things like that. It is partly intuitive and partly built in, but it's also partly just already there just through repetition, through repetition, which has been one of the great motifs of his career, you know, instilled in him by Jos. It's just a graft of doing it over and over and over until you get perfect at it. And you see him described as being very at ease with the car oversteering. And that's just another manifestation of the same thing. It's that same sensitivity, because all he needs is to get that initial response into the corner. But the tipping point, really, where you get the quick rotation, but you then lose time through the rear sliding as a result of the quick rotation. So there's a very, very narrow sweet spot in the middle where you don't lose that time, but you have got the quick rotation. And it's not always there. The car doesn't always give you it, or the tires don't always give you it, but he's better at finding it. The narrower it is, the more difficult it becomes, and he's better than anybody else at finding that. So if the car starts to over-rotate, he can feel it so early. And because of that lovely feel, just as it's starting to rotate too much, he'll change how much braking or steering he's doing. And in that way, that's how he can just have the rear of the car dancing around him and still keep momentum. You know, we saw qualifying turn one in Miami. He had that moment at turn one, a quick oversteer snap because the tyres weren't quite ready. But he maintains the momentum. It doesn't, it isn't just a, oh, that's the lap ruined. He just does the corner in a different way. Michael Schumacher used to do the same thing. It's very similar in that regard. But he's actually so good at that. that it sometimes misleads the team and at least twice Red Bull have headed too far in that direction with their car development until even he's found it too much. But it's been at a point sort of half a season later than the other driver, Alex Albon or Sergio Perez, have been pointing the problem out.

Edd: It's interesting you mention Schumacher because I do see there's similarities there. It's that kind of responsiveness of the car. I remember years ago doing an interview with Johnny Herbert, who of course was Michael Schumacher's teammate at Benetton, the end of 94 and in 95 and he said that you have this car that's very very pointy you know the kind of like the turning moment of the car is sort of miles in front of the car and it turns in really responsibly and he said what Schumacher could do that he couldn't was calculate how to deal with that rear end and stop it turning into a slide and it just it just astounded him in terms of what Schumacher could do and it's similar with Verstappen the cars have changed a bit You can't go quite as far down that path these days as Schumacher did, but it's still there. In fact, there's a quote from Max Verstappen I think is worth throwing in about his driving style, where he just said, I like a pointy car, but with a rear end that is just stable enough to have a controlled balance. I like a strong front end. I don't like understeer. It's just killing the whole feel of the car. But yes, a strong front end with a rear that's just on edge. But then, of course, you still need that rear to rely. And I think this is When we're talking about what I'd say the broadest brush stroke on Verstappen, about liking having that responsive rear, this is where I like to talk about tolerances. And it's that ability to have the rear that moves and rotates enough and then just be able to control it. And I don't see any other driver on the grid who can go as far into that as Verstappen can. And as a general rule, as a driver, that's going to be the quickest way to do things because you've got the responsiveness and driving a car through a corner, it's all about rotating it, that's your key thing, rotating it with as little time loss as possible so that you can then gun it on down the straight having got through the corner, not lengthen the corner, keep the corner at a sensible overall length and that's what it's all about with him and getting that entry phase correct but it's not achieved as you said by being last of the late breakers because he isn't, Pierre Gasly learned that he was trying to catch up with Verstappen when they were teammates by braking later under rotating and then he kept complaining about poor traction on exit because he had more lock on he was trying to turn still turn the car more because he hadn't done that rotation so for me that's that's critical with Verstappen and that's something that you can't it's very, very hard to replicate, isn't it? Because it's been learned over those decades, that hard baking, all of that subconscious processing into yourself, which has been done, he's been doing, he's been building up since he first drove a car at what, the age of four?

Mark: Yeah, that's right. And I think it is partly learned, but I think it's also partly intuitive. Just some people are wired up in a more suitable way than others. And that essentially is why one guy is quicker than another. Doesn't make them better necessarily, but it forms the foundation, the basic foundation of some drivers is just higher because of that basic physiology, so I think in Max you have the ultimate in both, you have the ultimate DNA from his race and driver parents probably, and then just the insanely intense way that he was trained by Jos in the early days. And I think, you know, it wouldn't have worked if Max hadn't bought into it. And he obviously has bought into it in a massive way and he doesn't want to do anything else or hasn't wanted to do anything else. So, yeah, you see this perfect synergy of nature and nurture.

Edd: Exactly. And I think that word synergy is important because although we have certain innate characteristics and skills, like you talk about the ability to sense from kind of the lower spine, some of that area comes from, but you have to refine it and work on it and use it. And that's all the stuff that just gets plugged into the subconscious processing. And it just allows you to do what you do to calculate it. So he certainly, I mean, I know there's criticism and I completely get it in terms of, the elements of what Max was sort of put through when he was karting by Jos pushing him. But, and you address this in the book, that's, whether you like it or not, that was the experience that Max had that has played a part across the board in terms of making what he is today for better or worse. So he's almost a unique case in terms of the nurture element of the equation, I would say. And therefore, I think even if you wanted to, like, grow your perfect racing driver, I feel like that Max is kind of in such a unique position in terms of how it happened to racing driver parents, plus Jos feeding in his way of doing things, all of the mistakes that he made in his career. Right from the start, he talked about how he wanted to make sure Max had the knowledge he didn't have, because Jos was very much a driver with great, great potential that ultimately wasn't delivered on. And Max is almost the, well, he's got that same potential, but it's been delivered on in spades.

Mark: Yeah, exactly. And I think also not to be underestimated is that he was brought up living in the karting environment. You know, Jos at that time was making his living from running kart, running karting teams, preparing kart engines. Max lived in that environment right from the start. He didn't know any other environment. So I think It's different even from other kids who have started very early, but their parents have had a conventional life outside of the kids racing. It's beyond even that. So every little tiny area of advantage, every little thing, thing that he'd learned from, you know, the specific tools you need in that environment and in karting. And it's a very, it's very highly specialized area of racing. The things which you need to know, which don't, don't apply to any, anything else actually, once you've got out of karting. So you've got a shortcut, you've got a shortcut through all that instantly. And I think that's not to be underestimated either.

Edd: One of the things that's always struck me about Max, I mean, we've both watched him for endless hours from trackside over the past, well, going back to 2014. In fact, I can remember we were both watching at the Esses, weren't we, when he had his first FP1 in Toro Rosso. I think I was on one side of the track, you were on the other. And I remember seeing him there. the experimentation through the laps. You could see he was changing his approach to the corner, refining it. And I don't know about you, but I saw him continue to do that for a few years, certainly around 2018 time. He was still doing it. If you watched on Friday in FP1, you'd see that experimentation. But it seems to me that as the experience has grown, that experimentation phase has gotten narrower and narrower and narrower to the point where, to all intents and purposes, it almost doesn't exist, does it? He is responding immediately, like first flying lap of a weekend. He's adapting to the car and he's seeing the limitations and then pushing back at the team saying, right, this is what we need to do. This is the area that's weak. And that's been an area of kind of evolution with him that I've seen most obviously trackside in that that experimentation has just become almost invisible because it's done in the first few corners almost.

Mark: Yeah, and I think this is part of what I was saying earlier on about the levels of thought and preparation that he's doing in between races. He's just soaked in it. He's thinking of it all the time. And it'd be very tempting to think when you get to the level of someone like Max that, okay, I've mastered this craft now. But he doesn't ever seem to think that. He just seems to think there's always more things you can find. And as you say, as you refine that, it becomes less visible on the outside, but he's clearly still doing it. And I think then it would be interesting to see how long he could just maintain, he's obviously found this sweet spot now, how long he would be doing that before he would have difficulty in adapting to a new formula, a new way of driving. Something like what Lewis Hamilton has probably been experiencing for the last few years with these regulations, because they don't suit the way he naturally drives, but he's not. He doesn't apply the same level of immersion, I don't think, in the technicalities as Max does. He knows exactly what he needs and can feel it. But I think with Max, he's always He's always thinking about it and he can change technique from one corner to another or one set of tires to another. It's almost as like he has certain trigger points in his brain already and as soon as it happens he recognizes it and acts. And that can only come from lots of deep analysis and deep thought and trying things out, which he does in the virtual world.

Edd: How about limitations? Obviously, we've seen times when teammates have been closer, say when the car is understeering. There were times when Perez got closer. Do you see that as something that Verstappen struggles with, or do you just see it that it just limits him and it just lets mere mortals get close?

Mark: Exactly that. I don't think, you know, when the car is just understeering all the way through a corner and that's the basic trait of the car, well, it's really easy. You know, there's not much difference a great driver can make from a good one in that situation. It's like, you know, playing noughts and crosses against Einstein rather than trying to play him at chess or something. It's just, you know, he'd have half a chance, wouldn't he?

Edd: That's a great analogy.

Mark: I like that one. It's just, it puts a ceiling, puts a false ceiling on the great drivers if you just dumb the car down. And that's what understeer does, it dumbs the car down, makes it easy, makes it not particularly satisfying to drive, but it's relatively easy to get to its limit. So I don't think it's a limitation of Max. that he's not as much quicker than ordinary drivers when he's in an understeery car. I just think that that's the car putting a false ceiling on his ability.

Edd: And also an understeery car is kind of at the extreme other end. That thing I was talking about earlier with when the rear instability is such that people can't cope with it, but an understeery car can give you plenty of confidence, but it just slows you down. That's just the way it works. And I think that's an important thing to note when we're talking generally about driving styles. Not all driving styles are equal. You will fundamentally, a car that has got that rear instability, provided it's the right level of it, provided everything else works with the car, it will be quicker than a car that's a bit understeering. So it's not about driver preference, making the difference in terms of the car needing to suit them, it will just limit them, which is why I think the whole argument about the car being made for Verstappen is more complicated because he allows you to go to places where the car's quicker, but it's trickier. That can bring its own problems, but it's just the way it works. But I think it's worth talking about other limitations that may happen with Verstappen. That point I made there about the fact it can push the car into slightly difficult places where perhaps the team underestimates how much how much difficulty has been engineered into it and doesn't take seriously problems and also his kind of mentality in the car. We haven't seen it this year but there were times last year when he was getting a little bit agitated, hungry I guess is the great example where I feel he compromised himself in the race just by getting too angry about everything. So those are kind of the two areas where maybe you can make the case that there is a limitation. How do you see it?

Mark: Yeah, I think his emotions, sometimes he struggles to control his emotions when things aren't going well. And probably the best example of the opposite of that, of someone who can control their emotions perfectly is Oscar Piastri. And that can pay dividends in all sorts of ways. And so, yes, I think you could probably point to a handful of races over the years that Max has got less than he could have done had he controlled his emotions better. But at the same time, maybe that emotion is what's pushing him on to achieve what he does. So it's probably just the other edge of the same coin.

Edd: That's very true. You can't pick and choose. qualities and characteristics necessarily can you they that it's rare that it's binary that oh this is all bad sometimes some negative comes with the net good and I think that's certainly the case with Verstappen. I think we should talk about his wet driving as well because wet weather driving By its nature, it has to be to an extent reactive in terms of the track can change from corner to corner, from lap to lap, in terms of the amount of water that's down and how it's been moved around. We've seen some great wet weather performances from him in the past. I guess that famous one at Interlagos all those years ago is one that often springs to mind. But I guess the wet is a very pure manifestation of Max's qualities, isn't it? Because I always think you have to improvise a little bit more in the wet, don't you?

Mark: Yeah, exactly. And it's about improvisation, but it's also about knowledge and his knowledge of where the rubber is and therefore which bits to avoid and how it's so much more, how it's such a different line to the dry line. That's one of those things that he instantly knows because he's thought about it beforehand. and has experienced it so many times and has taken note of what happens. So it's partly that, and it's part reactive. We talked about the feel that he has, just that intuitive feel. It also applies to not just the lateral and the brake, and it applies to the throttle as well, of course. And the engineers, when they first start working with them, they all say, God, he's got amazing feel for where the traction limit of the car is. His throttle foot is almost glued to where the traction limit is. It's uncanny. So you combine that feel for where the lateral grip is and how quickly attuned he is to changes in grip. And that means he's just devastating in the wet. And, you know, part of that is confidence as well. He knows how good he's going to be, and therefore that sort of becomes self-fulfilling to an extent.

Edd: Yeah, I think that's a good point. And that traction sensitivity, as I like to call it, is so valuable. And probably only Charles Leclerc, I would argue, of the drivers we're talking about is on a similar level to Max in terms of that, because he's fantastic on that score as well. But I think it's worth briefly mentioning braking as well, because he's not last of the late breakers, but he's capable of being it. And I think braking technique and brake feel in these cars, it's probably the area that most consistently astounds me with these drivers. And F1 drivers are generally astounding in many ways. But if you think about what you're trying to do when you brake, It's a rock-hard brake pedal for a start. You don't have much feel, particularly with these cars, with the anti-dive and that kind of thing. And then on top of that, you have the interaction with the downforce, which is huge in that you're not just responding to the grip, but you're trying to cross-reference that with the expected change to the car as the downforce reduces, as you reduce the pressure. And there's so many factors going into that. Verstappen's phenomenal at that as well.

Mark: Yes. So the grip is decreasing at a very, I mean, the downforce squares with speed. So it's coming down at the square root of the speed. So you can imagine how quick that is, how much less downforce you're getting as the speed comes down as you're braking. So you– It can't be calculated, it has to be feel, it's happening so fast. So you have to have a perfect feel for where that grip is through your foot. And as you say, the latest cars with so much anti-dive and the suspension really loses you some of that feel. So yeah, it then becomes even more important to be sensitive to it because it's not giving you as much feedback, the pedals are not giving you as much feedback. And yes, but even some idea of how difficult the current Red Bull is, he's having difficulty with lock and brakes. We saw that a couple of times in Miami. We've seen it in the previous races as well. We've seen Yuki Tsunoda in particular struggling with it. So that's clearly an area that's limiting him. especially as the things change during the race, as the grip level changes and the balance changes and things.

Edd: Yeah, and that's important. You need a car that you can actually feel properly and actually adapt to that because, as you talked about, his braking phase, you know, braking isn't fundamentally about slowing the car. I mean, obviously it is, but it's also about manipulating the car, isn't it? And getting everything perfectly set for that turn in. point, which is what makes it so important. And it's another area that Verstappen is very, very good at. And I think doubly so with these cars, actually, that's– that's so, so, so important. And it's why I think it's one of the key reasons why it's so hard for his teammates to do what he does, because it's almost counterintuitive, because the driver kind of wants to push on a bit and try a little bit harder and kind of naturally that takes your mind to a break a little bit later, carry the speed in and That's not really what it's about. So, again, you're not trying to push yourself in terms of just that sheer attack of the corner. To do what Verstappen does, you have to push yourself in terms of that manipulation and the way you kind of get the perfect attitude of the car as you turn into the corner. And not just that, but also in terms of where your aerosensor pressure is for given phases of the corner. There's just every part of this art. There's so many things to calculate and respond to. Verstappen himself has his limits, but he seems to do all of that better than anyone.

Mark: Yeah. I mean, every speed of corner, every track temperature, every state of the tires, every car, it's different every time, you know? So it's never, the corner is never going to be exactly the same. Even the same corner is never going to be exactly the same, but in different speeds of corners, the technique will be completely different. If a hairpin, for example, that doesn't have very much a long straight afterwards, if it's a hairpin and just a short, like China, for example, turn 14, you've just got a little stretch between the exit of that hairpin and then the next corner. It'll be all about late braking and that's where the lap time will be and you don't need to worry too much about the exit and you'll see Max being the latest of the late then and you'll see him being able to outbrake people in there. We saw that spectacular in his very first Grand Prix there in 2015. He could just brake later than anybody else and still keep the wheels from locking. So that's what I said earlier on, you've got to be quite careful about being dogmatic in terms of what terms you're using. Because yes, he can be if that's what's required, but he's very attuned to what's required and what's usually required in more conventional corners. is, as you say, to get that rotation as efficiently done as possible. So with the ultimate trade-off between the quick direction change, I'm not losing any time through the rear getting upset.

Edd: And I know people are going to be crying out at us to talk about this. It's kind of adjacent to driving style, but we can talk about the racecraft element, because I think this is the area where Max probably gets the most criticism. And by racecraft, in this case, talking about the wheel-to-wheel stuff. Do you think that's an area where he can be weak in some elements? Obviously, he's a very hard racer. He knows the passing limitations in terms of the guidelines. He certainly pushes those limits. But do you think that's an area where he maybe oversteps the mark, potentially to his own detriment?

Mark: Occasionally. I think probably if you looked at it statistically, he's come out better more often than he's come out worse as a result of, if you look at any of his marginal weight from a sporting perspective, if you say that, ooh, that was either past the line of the regulations or pushing up very close to them. I think his success ratio would be pretty high. Whether that's how you should go racing, I mean, that's the perspective of the outsider, isn't it? That's those looking in, making their own judgments on that, and then everybody would be their own. So, yeah, I don't want to get moralistic about the way he chooses to race, but it is extremely aggressive. And as you say, understands instantly the implications of any guideline. You saw with Norris in Miami, which is all to do about the latest guideline for 25 that the drivers agreed with the stewards about if you can get to the apex with your front axle ahead of the attacking driver on the outside, ahead of his mirror, then you don't have to leave a car's width on the exit. As long as you can get there ahead of him, then you can run him off the road effectively. And that's what he did. there was no regulation come back from that. Whether that's the way you should race, particularly on a corner where there's an element of danger there, the runoff sort of comes up to a point and there's a wall there, but he acted upon that. He was the victim of that same regulation in Jeddah, where Oscar Piastri used it to his advantage. But the difference there, of course, was that the corner geometry allowed you to rejoin in the lead, whereas Norris couldn't do that because the circuit was going the other way from where he was on the runoff, you know, the other direction. So there wasn't a shortcut there, he was going the long way around. Yeah, Max is always the first to understand the implications of a rule change and many of the regulations that have been changed are as a result of Max pushing the limit.

Edd: Let's bring it to a bit of a conclusion now. In terms of what Max offers, in terms of his driving style, his ability, do you think he's the best driver in Formula 1 currently?

Mark: Oh, unquestionably. I think as a combination, yeah, he's not always the best. And I don't agree with Franz Tost saying he's got three tenths on everybody. He hasn't. There are certain... Yeah, nobody has that. There are certain situations where Charles Leclerc could be faster. There are certain situations where Lando Norris could be just as fast, for example. But as an overall combination and looking at it in the round, yeah, he's got a way higher score than anybody else.

Edd: Yeah, very, very much. I think if you had to pick a driver to race for your life, I think most would choose Max Verstappen, wouldn't they, because of what he's achieved. And I think I'd certainly agree he's the best driver currently, and it's always difficult when the careers are still going, but he's certainly in the debate for greatest ever already, I would say, and that's a debate for another time, maybe 10, 15 years down the line. It'll probably be a debate that's raging in 50 years or 100 years time, but a fascinating driver, and it's been great to dissect in some detail his style and his approach, and we hope that people have enjoyed hearing a little bit what we've seen and observed and learned about Max Verstappen over the years. (...)

#long post #loved this podcast #n loved how every time edd asks mark about max's weaknesses/limitations n mark's like yeah but thats exactly why hes good at xyz lol #max verstappen #about max's driving style #my post

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