#game design framework

[microlearningplatform]

DDE Framework for Training: The Next Big Thing in Learning Innovation

The DDE Framework for Game Design in Microlearning: Enhancing Engagement and Retention

In today's fast-paced digital world, traditional learning methods often fail to capture the attention of modern learners. Organizations are turning to microlearning, a bite-sized, highly focused learning approach that delivers knowledge in short, engaging formats. However, making microlearning effective requires more than just breaking content into smaller chunks—it must be engaging, interactive, and immersive. This is where the DDE Framework (Design, Develop, Evaluate) comes into play.

The DDE Framework for Game Design in Microlearning provides a structured approach to integrating gamification into learning experiences, making training more engaging and effective. This article explores the DDE Framework, its components, and how it enhances microlearning to drive better learning outcomes.

What is the DDE Framework?

The DDE Framework stands for:

Design – Conceptualizing the learning experience and setting clear learning objectives.

Develop – Creating the microlearning content with interactive and gamified elements.

Evaluate – Measuring the effectiveness of the learning experience and making improvements.

By following this framework, organizations can ensure that their microlearning strategy is engaging, interactive, and results-driven.

Phase 1: Design – Laying the Foundation for Engaging Learning

The Design phase is the most critical step in the DDE Framework. This is where learning objectives are established, and the foundation for game-based learning elements is set.

Key Elements of the Design Phase:

Identifying Learning Goals

What should learners achieve by the end of the module?

How does this learning align with business objectives?

Understanding the Audience

What are the learners' preferences, skill levels, and challenges?

What motivates them to engage in training?

Choosing Gamification Elements

Will the microlearning module include badges, leaderboards, points, or interactive challenges?

How can storytelling be used to create an immersive learning journey?

Defining the User Experience (UX)

How will learners interact with the content?

What kind of visual design will keep them engaged?

Example in Action:

A sales training module using the DDE Framework might include story-based simulations where learners play the role of a salesperson navigating customer interactions. Each correct decision earns points and unlocks new levels, making learning more engaging.

Phase 2: Develop – Creating Interactive and Engaging Microlearning Content

Once the design phase is complete, it’s time to develop the learning content. This phase focuses on bringing the learning experience to life through gamification, interactivity, and adaptive learning techniques.

Key Strategies in the Develop Phase:

Use of Microlearning Modules

Breaking content into short, engaging lessons (3-5 minutes each).

Ensuring each module focuses on a single learning objective.

Incorporating Gamification Mechanics

Rewards and Points – Encouraging learners to complete challenges.

Leaderboards – Fostering friendly competition.

Story-Based Scenarios – Creating a sense of immersion.

Adaptive Learning for Personalization

AI-driven personalization to adjust content based on learner progress.

Offering different difficulty levels based on prior performance.

Interactive Learning Elements

Using quizzes, drag-and-drop activities, and scenario-based decision-making.

Implementing real-time feedback to enhance learning retention.

Example in Action:

A customer service training program might include an interactive role-playing simulation, where learners respond to different customer queries. Each response earns points, and feedback is provided instantly to reinforce correct behaviors.

Phase 3: Evaluate – Measuring Success and Improving Learning Outcomes

The final phase of the DDE Framework is Evaluate, where organizations measure the effectiveness of their game-based microlearning strategy. This step ensures continuous improvement and better engagement over time.

Key Metrics for Evaluation:

Learner Engagement Rates

Are learners completing the modules?

How often are they logging in to the platform?

Knowledge Retention & Assessment Performance

Comparing pre-training and post-training assessments.

Using spaced repetition to reinforce learning.

Behavioral Changes & Application of Knowledge

Are learners applying their knowledge in real-world scenarios?

Conducting follow-up assessments to measure impact.

Learner Feedback and Experience

Gathering feedback through surveys and interactive polls.

Using AI-driven analytics to track learning patterns.

Example in Action:

A retail company implementing game-based microlearning for product training may track sales performance before and after training to assess the effectiveness of the learning program.

Why the DDE Framework is a Game-Changer for Microlearning

The DDE Framework helps organizations move beyond traditional, passive learning methods and embrace interactive, gamified learning experiences that drive engagement and retention. Here’s why it’s a game-changer:

Boosts Engagement with Game Mechanics

Elements like points, rewards, and challenges make learning enjoyable.

Encourages Continuous Learning

Short, digestible learning modules help employees learn without disrupting their workflow.

Improves Knowledge Retention

Spaced repetition and interactive assessments reinforce learning.

Enables Personalized Learning Experiences

AI-driven adaptability ensures learners receive customized training.

Provides Data-Driven Insights for Improvement

Tracking engagement and performance helps optimize training strategies.

Final Thoughts: Transform Your Learning Strategy with the DDE Framework

The DDE Framework for Game Design in Microlearning offers a structured approach to creating engaging, effective, and results-driven learning experiences. By focusing on Design, Develop, and Evaluate, organizations can transform dull training programs into dynamic, game-based learning experiences that improve knowledge retention, performance, and engagement.

Are you ready to enhance your microlearning strategy with the DDE Framework? Explore how MaxLearn can help you design game-based learning experiences that captivate learners and drive real results. 🚀

[vulshokbersrker]

I have been doing A LOT on this project

I finished the pages related to seasons/expansions. I have finished the lore book page and all the sub pages for them.

ALSO

There are a lot of things I need to do to make it faster and more efficient. But that can wait until after all the pages and functionality is in place.

I need to finish the home page (no idea on that yet.) The archive pages for lore entries and grimoire cards. Fixing/updating the search page. A FAQ page and a sitemap. THEN it will be time for error checkers and stuff.

(I have no idea on how to make the searching faster and to find more entries unless I make a tag system. Which will have to be manually done most likely)

Also also,

I have been making a guide for accessing the Bungie API that might help new coders.

[july-19th-club]

like somewhere in me the wires between 'excitement' and 'dread' got mixed up and now they feel exactly the same and i cant enjoy stuff without taking a dozen steps to reassure myself that something bad is NOT happening and it's all fine we're just going to the movie theater to have a popped corn and see a big screen. it's ridiculous. it's outrageous. it's unconscionable

[card-queen]

Introducing...

Dinus, who is slightly ghoulish but is on a mission to cure the plague. Sabella, who is a pirate and sole survivor on a mission to bathe in the blood of her nemesis Jeynia, who is a very tall and surprisingly nimble mercenary on a mission to get drunk and avoid learning about her innate magic powers.

This is batch 2 of my characters, and these ones will be introduced much later. Stay tuned for batch 3...

[smile-files]

this is so silly. one of the perks of having goody gardens as a thing is that it gives me an excuse to have like 50 billion fursonas. but then i'll keep thinking "but what about my truesona" as if that doesn't completely defeat the purpose

[neverendingford]

.

[plixgo]

Ludo Real Money Game Source Code

Ludo Real Money Game Source Code: A Robust Framework for Interactive Gaming

[microlearningplatform]

DDE Framework: The Secret to Engaging Game-Based Microlearning

The DDE Framework for Game Design in Microlearning: Transforming Training with Gamification

Gamification in learning is no longer a novelty—it’s a necessity. Traditional training methods often struggle to engage modern learners, who expect interactive, engaging, and dynamic experiences. This is where game design principles come into play, making learning more effective and enjoyable.

A structured approach to gamification in microlearning is the DDE Framework—which stands for Design, Dynamics, and Experience. This model provides a clear structure for integrating game elements into microlearning platforms like MaxLearn, ensuring that training is both engaging and results-driven.

In this article, we’ll explore: ✔ What the DDE Framework is ✔ How it enhances gamified microlearning ✔ Practical applications for corporate training

Understanding the DDE Framework

The DDE Framework is a structured approach to game design that ensures learning experiences are:

Engaging (keeping learners motivated)

Effective (improving knowledge retention)

Effortless (easy to navigate and complete)

Each component—Design, Dynamics, and Experience—plays a crucial role in making gamified microlearning successful.

1. Design: Structuring the Game Elements

The Design phase focuses on planning and structuring the gamification strategy. This step determines how learning objectives align with game mechanics to drive engagement.

Key Components of the Design Phase:

🎨 Visual & Interactive Elements – UI/UX, avatars, themes, and storytelling enhance immersion. 📜 Learning Objectives – Ensuring game elements support clear, measurable learning goals. 🎯 Gamification Mechanics – Defining leaderboards, achievements, levels, and challenges. 🕹 Game Rules & Rewards – Establishing rules, progression systems, and motivational incentives.

Example in Microlearning: Imagine a compliance training module where learners complete challenges to unlock new levels, reinforcing knowledge while keeping engagement high.

2. Dynamics: How the Game Engages Learners

The Dynamics phase focuses on learner interaction with the game mechanics. It’s about creating an emotional connection and ensuring the experience is interactive.

Key Components of the Dynamics Phase:

🔁 Progression & Motivation – Ensuring continuous engagement through levels, badges, and milestones. 🤝 Social Interactions – Integrating team-based challenges, leaderboards, and peer competition. 🚀 Instant Feedback – Providing real-time performance insights to guide learners. 🎭 Personalized Challenges – Adapting difficulty levels based on learner performance.

Example in Microlearning: A sales training module where employees compete in real-time quizzes, earning rewards for correct answers, creating a competitive and motivating environment.

3. Experience: How Learners Perceive the Journey

The Experience phase focuses on the user journey, engagement levels, and emotional response. A well-designed gamified microlearning course should feel rewarding and meaningful.

Key Components of the Experience Phase:

🎉 Intrinsic Motivation – Making learning enjoyable beyond just earning points. 🔄 Retention & Application – Reinforcing knowledge through spaced repetition and scenario-based learning. 📱 Seamless Accessibility – Ensuring learners can access content easily on mobile and desktop. 💡 Storytelling & Immersion – Creating an engaging narrative that learners connect with.

Example in Microlearning: A cybersecurity training program that places learners in a simulated attack scenario, allowing them to make choices that affect the outcome—making learning realistic and memorable.

Why Use the DDE Framework in Microlearning?

Microlearning platform is all about short, focused learning experiences. The DDE Framework enhances this by making learning:

✅ More Engaging – Learners stay motivated with game mechanics like badges, challenges, and leaderboards. ✅ More Retentive – Gamified content improves knowledge retention rates through active participation. ✅ More Personalized – Adaptive challenges ensure each learner gets a customized experience. ✅ More Enjoyable – Training becomes fun, increasing completion rates and participation.

Without gamification, microlearning risks being just another passive e-learning experience. The DDE Framework ensures it is dynamic, interactive, and rewarding.

Real-World Applications of the DDE Framework in Corporate Training

Let’s explore how different industries can leverage the DDE Framework to enhance training.

1. Sales Training – 🎯 Boosting Performance Through Gamified Learning

Design: Sales reps progress through levels as they complete negotiation scenarios.

Dynamics: Instant feedback helps them improve pitch strategies.

Experience: Leaderboards create friendly competition.

2. Compliance Training – 📜 Making Mandatory Training Fun

Design: Training modules turn compliance policies into mini-games.

Dynamics: Employees earn badges for each completed policy section.

Experience: Storytelling makes regulations easy to understand and apply.

3. Customer Service Training – 💬 Enhancing Communication Skills

Design: Interactive role-play simulations for handling customer queries.

Dynamics: AI-driven real-time feedback for responses.

Experience: Scenario-based learning makes training immersive.

4. Onboarding Training – 🚀 Engaging New Employees from Day One

Design: Employees navigate a virtual onboarding world.

Dynamics: Milestone achievements mark progress.

Experience: Personalized learning paths make onboarding engaging.

Best Practices for Implementing the DDE Framework in Microlearning

To maximize the impact of DDE-driven gamification, follow these best practices:

✔ Keep it Simple – Avoid overcomplicating game mechanics. Simple challenges work best. ✔ Align with Learning Goals – Every gamification element should reinforce the training objective. ✔ Use Meaningful Rewards – Offer badges, certificates, and real-world incentives to maintain motivation. ✔ Encourage Social Learning – Integrate peer challenges, leaderboards, and team-based competitions. ✔ Analyze & Optimize – Use AI-driven analytics to track learner performance and improve training effectiveness.

MaxLearn: The Ultimate Gamified Microlearning Platform

Platforms like MaxLearn leverage AI-powered gamification and microlearning to deliver engaging, effective, and customized training experiences.

🚀 Why Choose MaxLearn? 🔹 AI-powered adaptive learning for personalized experiences 🔹 Engaging game mechanics (leaderboards, rewards, challenges) 🔹 Mobile-friendly microlearning for on-the-go training 🔹 Data-driven insights for tracking and improving performance

If you’re looking to supercharge your training programs with gamification, MaxLearn’s AI-powered microlearning is the perfect solution.

Final Thoughts: Why the DDE Framework is a Game-Changer for Learning

The DDE Framework (Design, Dynamics, Experience) provides a structured approach to gamifying microlearning, ensuring training is:

🎯 Engaging 📚 Educational 💡 Memorable

By implementing game elements effectively, organizations can enhance learning outcomes, boost motivation, and drive business success.

🔹 Are you ready to transform your training? Explore how MaxLearn can help you implement the DDE Framework in your corporate learning strategy today! 🚀

[thesuperawesomeaarpong]

Ever heard of the MDA framework before? Well, after watching this video you will. Because I'll be explaining the Mechanics, Dynamics and aesthetics of play framework in a way that is actually useful to you.

[ailelie]

Essays and Meta on Interactive Fiction Design

2025.5.20: Updated original list with more resources. I've also fixed the links.

Structure

Standard Patterns in Choice-Based Games

Design Patterns in Choose Your Own Adventures

Small-Scale Structures in CYOA

By the Numbers: How to Write a Long Interactive Novel That Doesn't Suck

Adventures in Text: Innovating in Interactive Fiction

Structuring IF Side Plots

Narrative Graph Models

Beyond Branching: Quality-Based, Salience-Based, and Waypoint Narrative Structures

Puzzle Dependency Charts

What does your narrative system need to do?

Narrative Logics

Design Decisions: Stats

Loose, Tight, Flat, and Bumpy Stats in ChoiceScript Games

7 Rules for Designing Great Stats

Think Before You Stat

Set, Check, or Gate? A problem in personality stats

Design Decisions: Choice

Mailbag: Moments of Non-Choice

Should Games Have Meaningful Choices?

Creating Choices in Interactive Writing

A Bestiary of Player Agency

Making Interactive Fiction: Branching Choices

Successful Reflective Choices in Interactive Narrative

Design Decisions: Other

Writing in Collaboration with the System

Story vs. Game: The Battle of Interactive Fiction

Narrative States

How to write a branching narrative and won't lose your mind

Storygame Genre

Narrative Mechanics, Narrative Dynamics

That Darn Conundrum

Writing Advice and Opinions

The Seven Deadly Sins of Writing Interactive Fiction

Three Solutions to Three Problems in Interactive Fiction

Writing Interactive Fiction in Six Steps

Writing IF

Game Analysis

CYOA Structures: Tween Romance

These Maps Reveal the Hidden Structures of 'Choose Your Own Adventure' Books

Playing With Words: The remarkable Firewatch is part of a new generation of games taking cues from the text adventures of the 1980s

7 works of interactive fiction that every developer should study

The Illusion of Free Will: On "Bandersnatch" and Interactive Fiction

Scarlet Sails (and a discussion about game size

Musings on IF

Interactive Fiction as Literature

Riddle Machines: The History and Nature of Interactive Fiction

Toward a Theory of Interactive Fiction

Interactive Fiction for the Modern Game Designer

The Joy of Text: the fall and rise of interactive Fiction

Going Interactive or: How I Learned to Relax and Let the Reader Take Control

In the Beginning Was The Word

An Alternative Taxonomy for Interactive Stories

Misc

Ethically Designing Unethical Worlds

Break the Loop

Game Taxonomies: A High Level Framework for Game Analysis and Design

An in-depth look at what otome players wants

Mailbag: Self-Training in Narrative Design

[squeakadeeks]

GOOBER TIME

For a while now I've been utterly enamored with the Sky: children of the light design framework and wanted to make a sky costume for eons but could never settle on an outfit (´°ω°`) but! staring down the barrel of autumn, it nudged me into settling on a fall-ish outfit set!!

"picking out" the outfit was a lot of fun. i say picking out in quotes because you might note that uuuuhhhhhhh a lot of what i made isn't actually an in game cosmetic haha (they're all based on actual collectables i swear)

about the costume itself: the mask is made of 8mm EVA foam painted with acrylics. I got the baby smooth finish by priming with PVA glue, painting in thin acrylic layers, doing 4 gloss clear coats, and a final layer of matte sealant (mr super clear). when the lights are on i have literally zero visibility so the eyes are interchangeable!

The cape and staff sash are made of red neoprene scuba and dual tone red and black fur (the burgundy arctic alaskan husky long pile fur line from big Z). I used satins, chiffons, and a linen for the rest of the apparel. I also used fairy lights in the fur and a clear ornament for the neck detail.

[pitlanepeach]

Radio Silence | Chapter One

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, strong language.

Notes — Welcome to the Radio Silence universe! This chapter is mainly devoted to introducing Amelia as a character, but does have a bit of Lando in it too! Hope you love it.

Want to be added to the taglist? Let me know! - Peach x

2018

Amelia Brown stared at the new plaque on her dad’s office door.

Zak Brown, CEO of McLaren Racing.

She hated it.

Not because she wasn’t proud of him. Of course she was — her dad was brilliant, and he’d worked for years to get that title. It made sense. It was logical.

But the words looked wrong. Off-balance. Too sharp.

The old plaque had been there for years. Zak Brown, Executive Director of McLaren Technology Group. She knew the exact spacing of the letters, the way the light hit the brushed metal in the afternoon. She’d memorised it without meaning to. It had become part of the hallway, part of the routine. Safe.

She shifted her weight from foot to foot, fingers twitching at her sides.

It wasn’t just a new title. It was everything. 

The MTC felt different now. The air had a new kind of buzz to it — louder, sharper. People looked at her differently, talked to her like she was someone else entirely. Like being the CEO’s daughter had changed her, too.

The rules had changed, and no one had told her what the new ones were.

— 

Her father had been a Formula One fan for as long as she could remember.

V10 engines were her lullaby as a baby; the high-pitched scream of them a strange kind of comfort. Over time, the sound had settled into her nervous system, familiar and grounding.

By the time she was eight, she couldn’t fall asleep without it. Old races playing softly on the TV, the steady rhythm of the commentators’ voices, the roar of the engines, the tension winding through each lap. 

One night, when she was ten, the power had gone out during a storm. No TV. No white noise. Just silence and the wind scraping at the windows. 

She’d curled up in her bed, fists pressed tight against her ears, trying not to cry. 

Then came footsteps in the hallway. Steady. Familiar.

Her dad’s voice followed, soft but certain. “Hey, kiddo. Got something for you.”

He stepped into her room with a dusty old laptop under one arm and a tangle of wires in the other. 

Ten minutes later, her princess-themed bedroom was filled with the warm flicker of a grainy screen. The 2005 Japanese Grand Prix. One of her favourites.

She knew the race by heart. Raikkonen’s last-lap pass on Fisichella, the way Alonso danced through the field like he could see gaps before they even opened. She mouthed the commentators’ lines without realising, her breathing slowly syncing with the rhythm of the engine notes.

Her dad didn’t say anything. He just sat on the floor beside her bed, legs stretched out, back against the wall, holding the laptop steady for her to see.

Eight years later, Amelia thought about that night a lot. 

She wasn’t stupid. She knew what Formula One had meant to her dad before she was even born. But somewhere along the line, it had become more than just his dream. It had become theirs.

For Amelia, it wasn’t just a sport. It was everything.

Formula One was her special interest; the thing that clicked in her brain in a way nothing else ever had. The stats, the strategy, the evolution of car design, the sound of a perfectly timed downshift… it all made sense when so much of the world didn’t. 

It gave her a framework, a rhythm, a language that felt natural.

While other kids played games she didn’t understand, she memorised engine configurations. While teachers scolded her for “zoning out,” she was mentally replaying the 2002 Brazilian Grand Prix, lap by lap.

She could list every World Champion from 1950 onward before she could properly tie her shoes. At recess, when the others were pretending to be superheroes or princesses, she was mapping out imaginary circuits in the dirt with a stick, narrating races in her head with full commentary — down to the tire strategies and pit stop windows.

She tried sharing her passion with her peers, once.

In third grade, she’d brought a die-cast model of a 1998 McLaren MP4/13 to class for sharing time. She’d practised what she was going to say all night, rehearsed the facts in front of the mirror until the words felt smooth. Recited the specs; V10 engine, Adrian Newey’s aerodynamic innovations, Mika Häkkinen’s championship run, over and over.

But when she stood in front of the class, the words tumbled out too fast, too detailed, too much. She was halfway through explaining the brake-steer controversy when a boy in the front row yawned so loudly it echoed, and someone in the back let out a snort-laugh that made her ears burn.

After that, she stopped trying.

Except with her dad.

With him, she never had to translate. She could go on about tire compounds or telemetry data or how ridiculous it was that certain drivers still didn’t know how to defend a corner, and he never told her to slow down or “talk normal.” He just nodded, asked questions, matched her pace.

They didn’t need eye contact or hugs or long emotional talks. They had race weekends. They had side-by-side silence on the couch, watching onboards and live timing feeds. They had post-race debriefs at the kitchen table over scrambled eggs, like it was the most natural thing in the world for an eight-year-old to have such strong opinions about power unit reliability.

It was how they communicated. Racing was their shared language.

Her mom didn’t get it; not really. The noise overwhelmed her. The rules confused her. She once referred to Sebastian Vettel as “the one with the baby face and the weird flag thing,” and Amelia had almost burst into flames on the spot.

But she tried.

She printed out colouring sheets of cars when Amelia was little, even though she could already draw them from memory. She learned to set the TV volume just right; high enough for Amelia to hear the engines clearly, low enough not to overwhelm her. She made snacks on race days and never once complained when qualifying ran late into the night.

Her mom didn’t understand the obsession. But she understood Amelia. 

— 

Amelia walked into her dad’s office and froze, staring at the shelf lined with trophies, framed photos, and mementos from his years in motorsport. It had been that way for months now, ever since he’d taken the CEO position at McLaren, and every time she had to look at it, her ears burned.

Because the items on the shelf were never in the right order.

The memorabilia was all haphazardly placed; drivers she didn’t like sitting too close to ones she admired. There were racing helmets, but the scale didn’t make sense; one was huge, another tiny, a third just slightly off-centre. 

There were photos, too, of her dad with the team, with Fernando Alonso, with the McLaren execs, but none of them were lined up properly.

The shelf, she thought, should be perfect. But it wasn’t.

Reaching up, she slid the first photo frame to the right, just enough to make it parallel with the others. Then the helmet, she shifted it slightly, aligning it with the edge of the shelf. 

One by one, she adjusted the frames, the objects, the odd little pieces of her dad’s world that had once felt like a steady part of her life.

She wasn’t sure why it was bothering her so much today. Maybe it was the way everything felt out of sync. 

When she reached the second shelf, she noticed a small figure of a car. A McLaren MP4/4. Her dad had given it to her when she was younger, one of the few gifts he’d ever picked out himself. She ran her fingers over the smooth surface of the model before she set it down exactly in the middle of the shelf, just below the first row of photos.

For a very brief moment, it was perfect.

Just a small fix. A temporary escape from the feeling that everything else was slipping out of her grasp.

“Wow. Looks much better.”

Amelia tensed at the sound of her dad’s voice from the doorway.

She hadn’t heard him come in. For a moment, she considered turning on her heel and leaving the room, pretending she hadn’t touched anything. But her dad was already smiling, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He didn’t look upset. He never did; that was the problem. She could never tell how he was really feeling because his face always stayed the same. It was like his expressions were stuck, and no matter how hard she tried to figure it out, she couldn’t read him. It made it hard to know if he was happy, worried, or anything at all. Everything just felt... flat.

“You know,” he continued, stepping further into the room, his hands in his pockets, “I’ve never been great at this stuff. Never really noticed how... messy things can get in here. But I guess you’ve got a better eye for it than I do.”

Amelia couldn’t help but feel a small rush of pride.

She nodded quietly, her gaze flicking back to the shelf. There was a strange sense of uncertainty creeping in, though. “Is it still okay, though?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “I mean... Does it still... feel like yours?”

Her dad glanced at her, then back at the shelf, his smile fading just a little. “Yeah,” he said after a long beat. “It still feels like me. And it’s you, too, right? Made you feel better to change things up a bit?”

She just stared at him, unsure how to answer that. 

He stepped closer, running a hand through his hair. "I know things feel... different now. I guess I'm still getting used to it, too," he admitted quietly. "But it’s still... McLaren. It's still our world, kiddo."

Amelia’s stomach clenched. She wanted to say more, but the words wouldn’t come. She only nodded, her gaze travelling back to the perfectly aligned shelf.

Her dad placed a hand on her shoulder, his thumb brushing over her skin like a quiet reassurance. She made a small noise of discomfort. He paused, and then tightened his grip. So tight it might make a normal person wince. It just made Amelia let out a relieved breath of air, the pressure good, good, good.

It wasn’t that she hated touch, it was just that it had to be right, had to be just the right amount of force, of contact. Too light, and it felt like nothing at all. Too much, and she’d start to feel overwhelmed, like the weight of the world was pressing in. But this... this was perfect. His hand, firm on her shoulder, grounded her in a way nothing else could.

“Thanks for tidying up,” he said, his voice low but sincere. “I think I might leave it just like this for a while. Feels... good.”

She nodded, the pressure of his hand still there, steady, and it was like she could finally breathe again.

— 

The McLaren pit garages smelled of oil and rubber. The fluorescent lights above hummed faintly, and she could still hear them even through the noise-cancelling headphones on her ears. Amelia moved through the space quietly, sharp eyes scanning the flurry of engineers, tire changers, and data specialists working with practiced urgency. Her hands were clasped behind her back, fingers pressed tight against her palms, and her gaze flicked between the monitors, the car, and the teams as they hustled to prepare the MCL33 for its next session.

Her favourite part was always the data. The telemetry displayed on the screens had a rhythm, a language that felt like it belonged to her more than anyone else. The raw numbers, the graphs, the fine-tuned fluctuations of the car’s performance; it all made perfect sense. She knew what to look for. 

Her feet carried her forward. She found herself standing near Fernando Alonso’s MCL33, just a few feet away. The car was a beautiful mess of carbon fiber, heat shields, and wires, and it was just sat there, like a puzzle waiting to be solved. 

Before the season had even started, Amelia had memorised every part of it, from the aerodynamic tweaks to the engine specs.

One of the engineers noticed her as she lingered, her posture attentive, her expression unreadable beneath the headphones. Everyone knew who she was. Zac’s daughter. A genius, in a multitude of ways. 

He approached cautiously, not wanting to startle her. He’d noticed how her eyes narrowed when too many voices clashed together at once, or how she shrunk when people got just that little bit too close. 

"Hey, Amelia," he said, his voice calm, not wanting to intrude. She turned toward him, her face still slightly blank, but he could tell by the way her eyes focused on his that she had heard him. “You good?” he asked, motioning toward the telemetry screens just behind her.

Amelia nodded, then hesitated. Her hand hovered for a second before she slowly, cautiously pointed at the screen. Her voice, when it came, was quiet, careful. “I... I think the tire pressures on the front left might be a little too high for this circuit. The temperatures are different compared to last year.”

She didn’t look at the engineer as she spoke. Her eyes stayed fixed on the data, like if she focused hard enough, she could disappear into it. She knew she was right, she was almost always right when it came to this, but the memory of past times, of laughter or dismissal, tugged at the edge of her confidence. She didn’t want to make it sound like she thought she knew more than the team. She didn’t even have a degree. 

The engineer just blinked. “I’ll pass it along,” he said, eventually.

Amelia gave a small nod, then quickly turned her focus back to the car, to the numbers flicking past on the monitors. She adjusted her posture slightly, shoulders curling inward, trying to take up less space.

As she focused on the intricate lines of the MCL33, another engineer approached her. He was holding a tablet with a telemetry feed of his own, and without speaking, he offered it to her. Amelia looked at the data for a long moment, her eyes narrowing as she absorbed the figures and readouts. Then, her finger gently traced over the tablet’s screen, pointing to a particularly complex graph of the car’s acceleration over the course of a lap.

“Right there,” she said, her voice soft but clear, though it was a bit muffled by the headphones. "You need to adjust the mapping."

The engineer hummed, impressed but not surprised. “I’ll have the team look into it,” he said, before turning to relay her suggestion to the others.

Her dad was always there, of course, close, watching from a distance, his presence a quiet comfort. But Amelia didn’t need him right now. She just needed the machines, the numbers, and the freedom to study it all. 

The engineers moved around her, respecting her space. Always careful not to brush against her, even though she was technically in their way.

When she finally did look up from the data screens, Fernando had stepped into the garage, just a few feet away, in his racing suit, helmet tucked under one arm. He glanced at her, then at the engineers who were quietly working around her.

He approached with a calm, easy presence that didn’t press too hard, didn’t demand anything. “Ah. How is the car feeling, pollita?” he asked, voice light but kind.

Amelia gave a small nod, gaze trained on the Spanish flag on the neck of his fireproofs. 

Fernando smiled. Then he turned to the engineers, who were already passing along her observations. 

“If she said it,” he said, tone warm and without a trace of doubt, “then yes—keep an eye on the turbo mapping. She is the smart one.”

— 

She walked around the paddock often. The garages were fun —fascinating, even— but it could all very quickly become too much. The noise, the flashing lights, the overlapping voices, the sudden bursts of motion. 

So she’d slip away. Not far. Just enough.

There was always a McLaren staff member trailing after her. Not hovering, not bothering, just keeping a quiet distance. Just far enough to give her the illusion of independence, a false sense of freedom she chose to believe in. She didn’t mind. As long as they didn’t try to talk, or worse, touch, she could almost ignore them entirely.

She wandered with a purpose that only made sense to her, eyes fixed ahead, headphones still on, the rest of the world muted and manageable. She liked it that way. The paddock, in the quiet bubble of her own world, was peaceful.

That’s when she spotted him.

Lewis Hamilton stood just outside the Mercedes hospitality suite, sunglasses perched on his nose. Roscoe was with him, tail wagging lazily, nose in something that probably smelled like food. Amelia stopped walking, blinked a few times, then changed direction. 

Lewis noticed her before she got too close. He smiled, lowering his sunglasses slightly. “Hey, Amelia,” he said, crouching a little as Roscoe trotted forward to sniff her shoes. “Been a while. You good?”

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she crouched carefully, reaching a hand out to Roscoe but not touching him until the dog pressed his nose into her palm. Only then did she give a tiny nod.

Lewis waited, patient. He was always nice like that. 

“How’s Roscoe?” she asked finally, her voice soft and low. One time, somebody told her that she spoke like she wasn’t sure she had permission to do so. Always quiet. Mumbling, if she could get away with it.  

Lewis just smiled, warmth radiating in that easy way of his. She liked Lewis a lot. “He’s good. Living his best life. Had a spa day last week. He’s spoiled.”

Amelia looked at the bulldog again, and her tight jaw felt softer. “Good.”

There was a pause. She didn’t move, didn’t say much, but she didn’t walk away either.

“You ever want to walk him sometime, just ask,” Lewis offered, still crouched. 

Amelia looked up, eyes wide, the corners of her mouth twitching in what might have been the start of a smile. She gave a small nod. 

Then she stood, gave Roscoe one last pat, and turned to leave.

The McLaren staffer fell into step a few paces behind her, still pretending not to be watching too closely.

Amelia looked down at her hand. Grimaced.

Her chest tightened. The feeling started crawling up her skin.

“I need sanitiser,” she said, voice rushed and clipped, a little too loud, a little too sharp. Her hands hovered awkwardly in front of her like she didn’t want to touch anything, even herself.

The staffer blinked once, then immediately fished a small bottle from his pocket and offered it to her without a word.

Amelia snatched it quickly, not too fast, not rude, she told herself, and squeezed a dollop into her palm. She rubbed it in with fast, focused movements. Between every finger. Around every nail. Up her wrists. Twice.

Only when the last of it had dried, leaving that slightly tacky residue behind, did her shoulders drop. The tension in her jaw loosened. The hum in her head began to fade.

“Thank you,” she mumbled, not quite meeting his eyes. She turned back toward the paddock walkway, pressing her clean hands flat against the sides of her jeans, grounding herself in the texture.

— 

The MTC’s glass corridors were quiet, filled with the soft echo of Amelia’s footsteps. She liked walking here early in the mornings, before the building filled with noise and movement. The lines were clean, the light was even, and everything had its place.

She turned a corner and nearly collided with someone moving fast; backwards, clumsily trying to zip up his hoodie while juggling an apple and his phone.

Lando Norris. FIA Formula 2 championship runner-up, member of the McLaren Young Driver Programme, widely considered one of the brightest rising stars in motorsport. She knew all of this about him.

He skidded to a stop when he saw her, eyes widening slightly. “Oh, hey. Sorry. Didn’t see you.”

Amelia stared at him for a beat, saying nothing. 

“You’re late,” she said plainly.

Lando blinked, then gave a sheepish grin. “Yeah. Kinda running behind this morning. Slept through my alarm. Happens sometimes.”

She tilted her head, studying him like he was part of a data set, eyes narrowed into thin slits. “You’ll never get promoted if you’re always late.”

The words came out blunt, matter-of-fact. She wasn’t trying to be rude, just honest. Patterns mattered. Timings mattered. Discipline mattered. Racing was full of rules, and being late was not acceptable. 

Lando laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “Oh. Uh—do you really think I won’t get promoted?”

Amelia didn’t answer right away. She studied him, eyes narrowing slightly, not in judgment but in analysis. She was already calculating, recalling his lap times, consistency, tyre management, race-craft under pressure. She’d watched his F2 season. Not just watched; studied it. He was aggressive under braking, a little rough on tyres mid-stint, but his spatial awareness was excellent, and his adaptability in changing conditions put him in the top percentile. 

He was a good fit for McLaren, in her opinion. 

“Are you fast?” She asked him, despite already knowing the answer. 

Lando blinked. Let out a short, awkward laugh. “Yeah. I mean, I think so.”

She nodded once, satisfied. “Then you’ll be fine.”

With that, she turned and walked away, her stride quick and purposeful, the conversation already filed away in her mind, concluded.

Lando stood there for a second, caught off guard. Smart. Intense. Kind of pretty, too. But brutal. “Right,” he muttered to himself, watching her go. “Cool. Fast. Got it.”

— 

Amelia sat cross-legged on her bed in her family home in England, the room quiet except for the electrical hum of her phone charger. Her mom was downstairs, making chilli for dinner, and her dad was still at the office. 

She was scrolling through Twitter, quietly, methodically, as she did most evenings. She didn’t get involved much. A few retweets here and there. Articles, stats, insights. She had a good number of followers, mostly people who’d seen her on race broadcasts or encountered her race-day tweets.

But then, her thumb hovered. Lando Norris had tweeted earlier that day. She followed him, of course. She followed every McLaren adjacent account. 

She clicked on his profile.

She knew him. Had obviously studied his race-craft.

She scrolled through his timeline, her eyes tracking his tweets one by one.

"Is it just me or does everyone have a friend who thinks they know how to cook but really just know how to burn toast? 😂"

Amelia blinked. She didn’t get it. Was that supposed to be funny? She wasn’t sure that incompetence was amusing.

She continued scrolling, her eyes scanning through the odd mix of jokes, memes, and race-day updates. None of it made any sense. She was used to tweets that were precise, purposeful — like her own. Her posts were methodical, always carefully planned, always factual. Data, analysis, insights. It was how she communicated with the world.

Another tweet.

“Just watched a documentary on the moon landing. Now I’m convinced I could be an astronaut. 😂”

Amelia frowned. There was no mention of racing, no insights into strategy, no talk of lap times or tire degradation. Just... this. She scrolled past it quickly, her thumb moving with a steady rhythm as she returned to her own timeline, where everything was neatly laid out, logical, and to the point.

Maybe she should talk to Lando about using his social media more usefully. After all, he already had such a large following. He could share insights, data, something valuable for his fans. He was a professional driver, for goodness' sake. It could be a way to connect with people, educate them, make them appreciate the intricacies of racing in the same way that she did.

She bit her lip, feeling a small knot form in her stomach. She wasn’t sure if she could just tell him to change. That would be... strange. Maybe even rude.

Two hours later, Amelia sat at the dinner table, poking at her food absentmindedly. Her mom was talking about her day at work, but Amelia wasn’t really listening. 

Her dad, always quick to pick up on when something wasn’t right, glanced at her and raised an eyebrow. “What’s going on in that head of yours, kiddo?”

Amelia hesitated for a moment, rolling the words around in her mouth. She wasn’t sure why it was bothering her so much, but the thought of Lando’s Twitter kept circling in her mind, unresolved. “Lando Norris is a terrible tweeter. He needs a social media manager.”

Her dad stared at her for a beat, then burst out laughing. “Ah, that’s just Lando! Fans love him for it. He’s... unpredictable, keeps everyone guessing. People follow him because they like seeing the real him. Jokes and all.”

Amelia didn’t find anything about this situation funny. 

She fiddled with her food, the tension in her chest tightening. Why did nobody seem as concerned about this as she was?

Lando was good. A good racer. A worthy driver. 

Late. He was always late. He could fix that, though. 

Fix, fix, fix.

She clenched her hands in her lap, staring at her plate, her thoughts spinning.

Her mom set her fork down, leaning forward slightly. “Amelia, is it really bothering you, honey?”

Amelia’s gaze snapped up, her eyes wide. “Yes! I don’t understand it. He could be doing so much more—he’s just... joking around all the time. He never posts about his telemetry or his tests. It’s such a waste!”

Her mom nodded patiently. “That’s what you would post about?” she asked, her tone gentle.

Amelia nodded, feeling her thoughts settle into place. “Yes. It’s all there, the numbers, the data. It shows his skills. It’s... more useful.”

Her dad hummed thoughtfully. “I could have a chat with him. Tell him to post more of his racing stats. They are impressive. But I won’t tell him to stop being himself. That’s working well for his image.”

Amelia wrung her hands together under the table, taking small, even breaths. It helped calm her, but the unease was still there.

“I think…” she started, her voice softer now, the edges of her frustration ebbing away. “He is a good racer.”

Her dad smiled at her, a little amused. “You care about his success, huh? Well, that’s sweet.”

Amelia nodded. Then she frowned. Sweet? Why was that sweet? She cared about the success of all the drivers in her dad’s team… not just Lando.

Her mom reached across the table and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “You’re not the only one who wants him to do well, honey. But maybe let him be him. It’s working for him in his own way, even if it’s not how you’d do it.”

Amelia hummed thoughtfully, picking up her fork. She liked chilli. It was comforting. Simple. Consistent. 

She missed the look her parents shared — half concerned, half understanding. 

— 

Fernando would leave Formula One at the end of the 2018 season.

Amelia didn’t know how to feel about it, or if she should feel anything at all. The news came as a whisper first; just a passing comment she overheard in the MTC, a conversation between her dad and one of the engineers. At first, it didn’t seem real. Fernando had been a fixture of the sport for as long as she could remember. The idea of Formula One without him felt... wrong. He wasn’t just another driver; he was Fernando.

And then, one afternoon, her dad sat her down in his office and confirmed what she had been dreading.

Fernando was leaving.

She found herself pacing around the house, her mind spiralling as she thought about the future of F1 without him in it.

He’d always been so nice to her, letting her into his garage whenever she wanted, no questions asked. There was never any judgment in his eyes when she stared at data screens for hours or rambled on about telemetry. He just... let her be.

He had understood her in a way few people ever did.

She would miss him. 

— 

Lando Norris and Carlos Sainz. 2019 McLaren Driver Line-up.

She’d expected it. She knew it was coming. Fernando was leaving. So was Stoffel. She’d already processed that. But somehow, seeing it laid out in front of her, seeing it confirmed in black and white, made it feel much more real.

Her dad had sat her down earlier on in the month, his voice soft but steady. He’d said it was a new chapter for McLaren, a step in the right direction.

She put the phone down, the buzzing of it faint in her ears, and stared ahead. The news sat like a heavy weight in her chest. Lando and Carlos. McLaren’s new driver pairing.

— 

iMessage — Lewis Hamilton & Amelia Brown

Amelia Brown

I would like to see a photo of Roscoe. 

Lewis Hamilton

*insert photograph of Roscoe*

You doing okay, kiddo? Lots of changes happening over there at McLaren. 

Amelia Brown

I am fine. 

Lewis Hamilton 

You're always welcome at Mercedes if you need a breather, yeah? 

Toto thinks very highly of you. 

Amelia Brown

Because I am so smart? 

Lewis Hamilton

Exactly. 

— 

Amelia sat in the kitchen, scrolling through Twitter as she sipped her coffee. Her nineteenth birthday had come and gone, quietly, without much fanfare. 

Her gaze drifted across the screen.

Lando had posted something that caught her attention.

"Why do I feel like I need a vacation, but I also can't leave my bed?"

Amelia blinked at the tweet, trying to make sense of it. She tilted her head, her fingers hesitating over the keyboard. She didn’t understand. Was he… hurt? Why couldn’t he leave his bed? He was supposed to be racing a Formula One car in a matter of months.

With a worried sigh, she typed out a simple response to his tweet.

What does this mean? 

She hit send and waited. 

A few minutes later, Lando replied.

It’s just one of those random thoughts. You know, like when you’re too comfortable but you also want to escape, but you don’t really? Classic conundrum lol 

Amelia stared at the reply, processing it slowly. 

She... still didn’t get it. Why would anyone want to leave a comfortable bed just to go somewhere else? 

She frowned at the screen for a moment, her eyes scanning the thread, and then she noticed the replies.

“Lando is so sweet to explain it! 💕” 

“Aw, he’s always so patient with everyone ❤️” 

Amelia’s brows furrowed. Sweet? Patient? She didn’t understand. He was just explaining himself and his terrible analogy. Had nobody else been confused?

She stared at the replies for a moment longer, the confusion deepening. It felt like there was something she was missing.

She felt a small twist of discomfort, the kind she always got when emotions felt too complicated, too layered. 

Amelia clicked away from the thread, unsure what to do with the strange tugging sensation that lingered in her chest.

— 

That night, Amelia sat on the edge of her bed, her knees pulled up to her chest. She glanced over at her mom, who was measuring her bedroom window. Amelia had asked for black-out blinds, now that the days were getting brighter again.

“When my chest gets tight— and I’m thinking about somebody, and then I see other people saying nice things about them... and it gets, um, uncomfortable— what does that mean?”

Her mom paused, turning to face her. “Well. It can be a lot of things, honey. Depends on the person. Maybe you’re feeling protective, or it could be jealousy. Sometimes, we can feel a lot of emotions physically, and they don’t always have to make sense.”

Amelia blinked, feeling something stir inside her that she couldn’t quite name. The word felt almost too big to say. “Jealousy?” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her mom nodded, sitting down next to her. “Jealousy isn’t always bad. It’s just a feeling. Doesn’t have to mean anything.” 

Amelia’s mind spun. The word echoed in her head, uncomfortable and unfamiliar. 

Jealousy. 

Something about it seemed to fit.

NEXT CHAPTER

[buttastic]

god I told myself I wouldn't do political discourse on tumblr anymore but I swear to god if I see one more "artists are only against generative ai because it threatens their petit bourgeois profit margins" take I'm going to lose it

there are artists who are petit bourgeois. these are your mid-level gallery artists who run studios staffed by assistants and apprentices, as well as like showrunners and creative directors and the like who are at least partially in charge of a system that employs workers. there are also outright wealthy artists who are what it says on the tin. mosts artists do not fall into either of those categories however and tend to either be hobbyists (whose class is not defined by their artistic output) or workers themselves

in calling anyone in the art world "petit bourgeois" we are acknowledging that the creation of art is labor, and that that labor can be exploited. anybody who knows anything about any creative field can see why this would be the case

copyright is kind a double-edged sword in a lot of ways, in the united states it mostly functions as a means for large corporations to hold onto power. this is true. while it can sometimes be used to help avoid the exploitation of smaller creators, that's not usually how it works.

THAT SAID, copyright is a tool used by large corporations to hold onto the labor they have extracted from artist-workers, who obviously and completely do not own the means of production. this is why people say pirating from major corporations is always morally correct, that labor was already stolen

but so like you see where we're getting at here? that we're reaching a consensus that art is labor and artists can be exploited as workers?

I'm not going to get into the individual ethics of piracy since it's a big topic with a lot of nuance, I'm just going to point out that nearly all of my comics are already available for free. so with all this in mind:

how the fuck are you gonna use the framework of marxism to say it's perfectly fine to reconstitute the labor of others to your own ends without compensating them???

like I've been banging this drum the whole time generative ai is first and foremost a fuckin labor issue. all your bullshit phone games and product designs dumb commercial jingles were created by real people putting food on their tables. to treat it as unworthy of consideration is to concede that the need for these commodities outstrips the rights of the people that make them. like. oh my god???