#challenges of platform engineering
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devops-posts · 1 year ago
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geekonik · 4 months ago
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Latest in Tech and Programming.
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Who We Are
Welcome to Geekonik, your go-to platform for mastering the latest in tech and programming. Whether you’re a beginner eager to start your coding journey or an experienced developer looking to sharpen your skills, we offer a diverse range of expert-led courses designed to help you succeed in today’s ever-evolving tech industry.
Let the Numbers Speak
✅ 200+ Courses
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Our Vision
At Geekonik, we believe learning tech should be both practical and enjoyable. That’s why our curriculum is constantly updated to reflect the latest trends, technologies, and best practices. Join us today and take the first step toward becoming a skilled programmer or tech professional!
Our Mission
Our mission is simple: to make technology and programming education accessible, engaging, and impactful for learners of all backgrounds. We are committed to equipping individuals with the skills and knowledge they need to thrive in the digital world.
Through hands-on projects, expert-led courses, and a collaborative learning environment, we inspire curiosity, foster growth, and empower the next generation of tech professionals. Our goal is to bridge the gap between learning and real-world application, ensuring our students are ready to tackle the challenges and opportunities of the future.
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🚀 "Geekonik transformed my career! I went from zero coding experience to landing my first developer job in just six months. The hands-on projects made all the difference!" – Alex R., Software Engineer
Join the Geekonik community today and start building the future of tech—one skill at a time!
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##Who We Are#Welcome to Geekonik#your go-to platform for mastering the latest in tech and programming. Whether you’re a beginner eager to start your coding journey or an ex#we offer a diverse range of expert-led courses designed to help you succeed in today’s ever-evolving tech industry.#Let the Numbers Speak#✅ 200+ Courses#✅ 30+ Expert Instructors#✅ 4000+ Students and Growing#Our Vision#At Geekonik#we believe learning tech should be both practical and enjoyable. That’s why our curriculum is constantly updated to reflect the latest tren#technologies#and best practices. Join us today and take the first step toward becoming a skilled programmer or tech professional!#Our Mission#Our mission is simple: to make technology and programming education accessible#engaging#and impactful for learners of all backgrounds. We are committed to equipping individuals with the skills and knowledge they need to thrive#Through hands-on projects#expert-led courses#and a collaborative learning environment#we inspire curiosity#foster growth#and empower the next generation of tech professionals. Our goal is to bridge the gap between learning and real-world application#ensuring our students are ready to tackle the challenges and opportunities of the future.#Success Stories#🚀 “Geekonik transformed my career! I went from zero coding experience to landing my first developer job in just six months. The hands-on pr#Software Engineer#Join the Geekonik community today and start building the future of tech—one skill at a time!#Call Us
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ari-ana-bel-la · 17 days ago
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Could you write a Lando with a toddler daughter, where they're doing fan stage, and Yn runs on stage asking for a snack and ends up staying to build the Legos they have for challenges
Fan Stage
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The summer sun was high over the paddock, the roar of excitement echoing from the packed fan stage ahead. Lando stepped onto the platform, his usual cheeky grin spreading as he waved at the sea of fans. Oscar followed closely behind, a wide smile on his face as the crowd erupted into cheers.
“Hellooo!” Lando called into the mic, drawing out the ‘o��� like he always did, making the fans giggle.
Oscar leaned into his mic. “Hi, everyone! Thanks for coming out today—it’s hot, huh?”
“Too hot,” Lando said dramatically, tugging at the collar of his papaya team shirt. “I’m about two degrees from melting, but it’s worth it for you guys.”
The fans screamed louder, some holding up signs that read things like “LAN-DAD FOR PRESIDENT” and “OSCAR MARRY ME (please)” which Lando squinted at and chuckled.
They sat down on the tall stools, the bright orange and blue backdrop glowing behind them. On a small table to the side sat a pile of Lego bricks—the usual fan challenge. Build something in ten minutes. Fastest wins. Lando always cheated by just building a wall and declaring it “modern art.”
As they were halfway through answering questions, Lando turned slightly at the sound of tiny feet pounding up the steps behind them.
“Daddy!”
Lando’s eyes widened, twisting around just in time to see a small whirlwind sprinting toward him—messy curls bouncing, a glittery McLaren cap slightly askew on her head, and a pink stuffed animal clutched in one hand.
“Yn?” he laughed, instantly standing and crouching to catch her as she barreled into him.
“I’m hungry,” she whined dramatically, burying her face in his chest.
A chorus of “Awww!” rippled through the crowd as fans caught sight of her. Phones were already up, recording, capturing every second of the sweet chaos.
Oscar burst out laughing. “She’s got perfect comedic timing.”
Lando lifted Yn up into his arms and turned back to the audience. “Sorry guys, brief intermission. Apparently snack time takes priority over, uh, global fan engagement.”
Yn looked out at the crowd with wide brown eyes and gave a shy wave.
More “awwws.”
“She’s so cute!” someone yelled.
Another held up a sign they quickly scribbled on: “GIVE YN A SNACK OR WE RIOT!”
Oscar read it and nearly fell off his stool laughing.
Lando gently set Yn down near the Lego table. “You wanna hang out here for a bit, bubba?”
“Can I build?” she asked, already reaching for a bright blue brick.
“Of course you can,” Lando smiled, brushing her curls back with his fingers.
She plopped herself cross-legged on the stage, directly in front of Lando’s feet, humming softly to herself as she started building with pure toddler determination.
“Okay,” Lando said, chuckling into the mic, “you all now have front-row seats to what my living room looks like 90% of the time.”
Oscar leaned in toward the audience. “She’s already better than Lando at building.”
“I heard that,” Lando muttered, a grin tugging at his lips as he absently stroked Yn’s hair while answering the next fan question.
“Lando, how’s it being a dad on the road?” a fan shouted.
Lando’s gaze softened, glancing down at the tiny head now tilted in deep concentration, tongue poking out slightly as she tried to connect two oddly shaped pieces.
“It’s… amazing. Hard sometimes. There is a lot of packing, a scarily huge number of Barbies, and I know every episode of Bluey by heart now. But she’s my favourite travel buddy,” he said. “And she’s got a VIP pass to everything.”
Oscar nodded, glancing at Yn. “She makes the paddock like, ten times happier.”
“She’s our little team boss,” Lando added, smirking. “Tells the engineers when I need juice and gives me hugs before quali. I mean… who else gets that kind of support?”
More cheering. Someone held up a sign that read: “TEAM YN > EVERYONE ELSE” in glittery purple.
“Honestly, true,” Oscar said, showing the sign to the cameras.
Yn, still focused, suddenly raised a hand. “Daddy?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“I need the square one. The green square one.”
Lando squatted beside her, quickly rummaging through the pile until he found it and handed it to her like it was a precious gem.
“There you go, boss.”
“Thank you,” she said, sticking her tongue out slightly as she snapped it into place.
“Perfectionist,” Lando whispered to Oscar with a proud smile.
After about twenty minutes—far longer than either of them anticipated spending on stage—Lando finally glanced at the time and winced.
“I think we have to wrap it up, unfortunately,” he told the crowd.
There was a collective groan from the fans, followed by someone yelling, “Let Yn host the next Q&A!”
“Tempting,” Lando laughed, picking up Yn with practiced ease. “She’d probably do a better job.”
“Can I take the Legos?” Yn whispered sleepily against his shoulder.
Oscar stepped in, gently scooping the semi-formed Lego castle. “Don’t worry, we’re bringing it with us. I got it. Sir Lego Security at your service.”
“Thanks, Oskie,” she mumbled, her eyes already fluttering shut as she clung to her dad’s shirt.
Fans waved and cheered as the trio made their way off stage—Lando holding his sleepy daughter tightly against his chest, Oscar following with the Lego creation carefully balanced in his arms.
Once they were off-stage and a little more out of view, Lando looked over at Oscar and grinned.
“Think we just made Yn the most famous person in the paddock.”
Oscar chuckled. “Mate, I think she just stole the whole show.”
Lando looked down at Yn, whose breathing had evened out, her tiny hand still gripping his shirt.
“She always does,” he said softly. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
Authors Note: Hey loves. I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you!
-♡○♡
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Deenbandhu Chhotu Ram University of Science & Technology
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kenresearch1 · 2 years ago
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Future Outlook of UK Metaverse Market: Ken Research
Buy Now
What is the market Size of UK Metaverse Industry?
UK Metaverse market is growing at a double digit CAGR in 2017-2022 and is expected to reach USD ~ Bn by 2028.
The UK Metaverse Market is largely driven by One of the significant growth drivers of the metaverse market is the increasing demand for immersive and interactive virtual experiences across various industries, including gaming, entertainment, education, and commerce.
UK Metaverse Market is at a growing stage. It is a fragmented market with the presence of many metaverse companies. The market has seen emergence of abundant players in the past 5 years and the industry will further boost owing to the needs and wants of consumers for a more customized virtual reality platform.
Few major UK Metaverse players are Lilith Games, Roblox Corporation., Tencent Holdings, Byte Dance., Nvidia Corporation. Europe continues to dominate the UK Metaverse market. Depending on technology, the virtual reality and augmented reality segment dominated the metaverse market share in 2020, and is expected to continue this trend during the forecast period, owing to growing demand for virtual reality (VR) / augmented reality (AR) based services.
An increase in awareness and lifestyle changes is the fundamental driver of metaverse market growth. Customers are more likely to remain loyal when their needs are customized.
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Interested to Know More about this Report, Request for a sample report
UK Metaverse Market segmentation by component
The UK Metaverse market is segmented by component into Software, Hardware and Professional Services. Software was the dominant form.
UK Metaverse Market segmentation by vertical
The UK Metaverse market is segmented by vertical into Consumer, Commercial, Industrial Manufacturing, Healthcare and Others. Consumer was the most dominant in 2022.
UK Metaverse Market by Region
The UK Metaverse market is segmented by region into England, Wales, Northern Ireland, Scotland and other Regions. England is the most dominant market.
Competition Scenario in UK metaverse Market
The UK metaverse market is fragmented. The report covers the major players operating in the United Kingdom virtual reality market. Some of the prominent players in the industry are Lilith Games, Roblox Corporation., Tencent Holdings, Byte Dance., Nvidia Corporation. Competition in the metaverse is intensifying as more companies enter the market, offering a variety of virtual reality, augmented reality, and extended reality experiences. Established tech giants, startups, and gaming companies are vying to capture a significant share of the growing metaverse industry, leading to innovative developments and unique offerings to attract users.
What is the Expected Future Outlook for the Overall UK metaverse Market?
The UK Metaverse market was valued at USD ~ billion in 2022 and is anticipated to exceed USD ~ billion 2028, witnessing a robust CAGR during the forecast period 2022-2028. The realistic growth scenario represents the most likely scenario as per current market conditions. This scenario assumes that there will be no overall impact on the market due to any potential COVID-19 waves in the future.
The UK Metaverse market is driven by demand for rising disposable income in developing economies. The continuous advancements in virtual reality (VR), augmented reality (AR), and extended reality (XR) technologies are fueling the development and adoption of metaverse platforms, creating new opportunities for businesses and users alike.
The government has set forth ambitious strategies to leverage digital technologies extensively in enhancing its services, processes, and decision-making capabilities. Rise in Demand in the media and entertainment, gaming and adjacent markets like virtual reality (VR), augmented reality (AR), mixed reality (MR), and digitalization in the fashion, retail, and art industries are the main factors for the metaverse industry growth.
The concept of sustainable packaging is proving to be a highly beneficial investment and a responsible choice for the environment when it comes to reality platforms. With the rising awareness regarding the environmental impact of virtual assets and digital content within the metaverse, there is a growing push for new policies and measures that hold businesses accountable for sustainable practices and responsible management of virtual resources.
AI and cognitive learning technologies have started to play a decisive role and are poised to be game-changers in several avenues.
During the forecast period of 2022-2028, it is anticipated that the UK Metaverse market will grow at a massive CAGR by 2028. Growing concerns about virtual avatar health and excessive virtual consumption habits are prompting various governments to adopt plain packaging strategies for metaverse products. By implementing plain packaging regulations, authorities aim to raise awareness about digital well-being and encourage responsible virtual choices among users within the metaverse.
Visit this Link :- Request for custom report
Market Maxomony
By component
Software
Hardware
Professional Services
By vertical
Consumer
Commercial
Industrial Manufacturing
Healthcare
Others
By Region
England
Wales
Northern Ireland
Scotland
Other Regions
Major UK Metaverse Market Players
Lilith Games
Roblox Corporation
Tencent Holdings Ltd.
Byte Dance
NetEase
Facebook Inc
Time Period Captured
Historical Period – 2017-2022
Base Period – 2022
Forecast Period – 2022 –2028
For More Insights On Market Intelligence, Refer to the Link Below: –
UK Metaverse Market Outlook to 2028
Related Reports by Ken Research: –
US Metaverse Market Outlook to 2028
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ratgrinders · 1 year ago
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Ok here's an updated timeline of the Rat Grinders based on the new info we got this episode:
Freshman Year
On the first day of classes Kipperlily and the others meet and form their adventuring party. Kipperlily comes up with the name the High Five Heroes.
Kipperlily excels academically, but the High Five Heroes only go on easier adventures, presumably to ensure they will succeed rather than fail at something challenging.
Ruben is primarily an acoustic/soft rock musician.
Kipperlily begins to have childish rage and resentment towards Riz and the other Bad Kids, which start out petty but gradually grow in intensity over the next couple years.
Sophomore Year
An increase in hostility, one of the first meetings Kipperlily has this year is being jealous that Riz's dad was killed by Kalvaxus, that if a person has suffered immense magical hardship it is an unfair advantage in adventuring.
Kipperlily tries to find evidence of conspiracy with her parents and is enraged that they are boring.
A week after spring break the High Five Heroes go on their first quest to the mountains of chaos, chaperoned by Jace Stardiamond.
After this, the High Five Heroes seem to undergo a shift where their rage is amplified. Kipperlily's counselor files become much more venomous towards the Bad Kids, Ruben shifts to emo music, etc.
At some point after this Ivy and Oisin propose changing the name to the Rat Grinders. Kipperlily opposes this and Lucy is on her side, but Ruben votes against her because it makes her upset and Mary Ann also votes against her but doesn't explain her reasoning.
A piece of paperwork is submitted for Lucy to change her god, but another piece of paperwork is filed afterwards rescinding that application, presumably by Lucy herself changing her mind.
Towards the end of the year, after grades are finalized but before classes are over thus avoiding the pass/fail penalty, Lucy dies in the far haven woods near Aguefort. Presumably, she could have been resurrected in service of this unnamed rage god, but chose not to. She "stuck to her guns".
Kipperlily's rage towards the Bad Kids has transitioned from childish to venomous, she "hates them".
Junior Year
At some point between the end of Sophomore year and the beginning of Junior year, the Rat Grinders specifically request Buddy Dawn join their party as a cleric.
At 8:01 am, the first day of classes, Kipperlily goes to Ashgrove to dig up the rogue teacher's grave, thus forcing her to reveal herself and granting Kipperlily a pass for all her rogue classes for the year. Presumably she was aware of the rogue teacher's grave beforehand (information only available in Arthur Aguefort's office) but waited until the start of Junior year so she could pass all her classes for the year.
Kipperlily announces her bid to run for student council president, with a platform based on equity, equanimity, and fairness.
Kipperlily asks Jawbone about the creation of Yes! and the events of prompocalypse
Her counselor notes become extremely enraged, with her straight up wanting to kill Kristin and being angry that she can't get to her thanks to Fig's protection.
Oisin, Ivy, and Buddy are seen at Fabian's house party during the first week of classes. Kipperlily is not seen but is possibly there invisible. The Bad Kids are asked to do drugs but decline. That same night, mephits steal part of a cloud rider engine kept in Seacaster Manor.
At the school assembly the following day Principal Grix reveals he was notified of students doing drugs off campus, meaning its possible the Rat Grinders tipped him off in an attempt to get the Bad Kids in trouble.
Ruben performs presumably some kind of ritual at the Frosty Fair Folk festival, with the other Rat Grinders conspicuously absent. Simultaneously, Yolanda Badgood falls dead in the same place where Lucy Frostblade died, after Yolanda had been made aware of Lucy's change in god and was investigating it. Yolanda also refuses to be resurrected in service of the rage god.
The Rat Grinders are seen at the assembly addressing Yolanda's death and how all clerics would be moved to pass/fail. Most look bored, Mary Ann isn't paying attention, and Buddy is unconcerned.
Kipperlily and Oisin get caught trying to sabotage the Bad Kids' Last Stand exam, and Kipperlily kills Buddy. Ten minutes after the Bad Kids plane shift away, Buddy is revived by an unknown figure and he pledges his allegiance to the rage god.
Now the Rat Grinders are scheduled for another trip to the Mountains of Chaos and are on complete lockdown, hiding all of them from Adaine's divination magic.
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cutehoons02 · 7 months ago
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SPEED OR LOVE?
HYUNG LINE X F1 DRIVERS SERIES
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*title: I’m in love an idiot
*trope: Grumpy for Sunshines
*F1 driver: Jay F1 Mercedes driver (inspo charachter: Carlos Sainz)
*synopsis: Being the daughter of the most famous engineer in the world for having won world champions like Hamilton or Vettel has advantages but a disadvantage is to hear about 24h on 24h from Jay Park. The new Mercedes star, with her gentle ways of communicating with fans and flirting with any girl in the paddock and with her look as a movie diva manages to make people do everything he says in a snap of fingers, except when he finds himself having to face the daughter of his engineer, super cynical and with a different idea than that is the real Jay during the European season of F1.
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*title: Still hate me? Always..
*trope: Enemies to lovers/Social media manager
*F1 driver: Sunghoon F1 Red Bull driver (inspo charachter: Max Verstappen)
*synopsis: Sunghoon could not stand Y/n and Y/n could not stand Sunghoon. Y/n loved his work as a content creator for Red Bull because he could cheer on his favourite team and feel the adrenaline that was felt before qualifying or race and at the same time travel around the world and create fan content on various social platforms, but there was only one problem in his work and that was called Park Sunghoon "Ice prince" of the grid. Whenever Y/n tried to get some social challenge or interaction, Hoon hated it more and more because he didn’t need to have millions of followers or social interactions but just run and maybe taste for the first time the win of his first world champion in Red Bull.
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*title: Kiss me, don't say no!
*trope: There's only one bed/reader is Jake's Pr
*F1 driver: Jake F1 Mclaren driver (inspo charachter: Lando Norris)
* synopsis: You thought being an F1 driver’s Pr was exhausting but you couldn’t imagine when you had to live three weekends in a row with Jake Sim, Jake represented everything that a Pr didn’t want to face in his career. Drama in his social media because Jake was born in GenZ and used social media without thinking that he was one of the most famous pilots of the moment, flirting with models or even worse fans during race weekends, duels and scenes with his teammate because the Mclaren had the unhealthy idea of putting two young promises of twenty years to command the team. Y/n would have wanted to kill him but under that cheeky face of F1 driver, Jake suffered from many insecurities and who knows thanks to his Pr things between the two could improve race after race.
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*title: Romantic lover
*trope: Celebrity falss in love with fan
*F1 driver: Heeseung F1 Ferrari driver (inspo charachter: Charles Leclerc)
*synopsis: Heeseung loved the adrenaline and anxiety before having to risk everything to qualify for pole position or to win potter but those butterflies in his stomach every time he entered his fiery colored car had never heard them until a shy girl university did not win a content to spend a whole season writing the thesis on the post-pandemic boom thanks to the DTS series and various media platforms that have helped make this sport increasingly focused on young people. Y/n had always loved Heeseung from his arrival in Ferrari but would never be expected to share with him beautiful moments like his first victory at home moments as his continuous panic attacks due to an accident.
If your are interested in this story leave me your @ so that when i publish the story you will be first to trade. ♡
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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 month ago
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Who Broke the Internet? Part III
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I'm on a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me in PDX on Jun 20 at BARNES AND NOBLE with BUNNIE HUANG. After that, it's LONDON (Jul 1) and MANCHESTER (Jul 2).
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Episode 3 of "Understood: Who Broke the Internet?" (my new CBC podcast about enshittification) just dropped. It's called "In God We Antitrust," and it's great:
https://www.cbc.ca/listen/cbc-podcasts/1353-the-naked-emperor/episode/16147052-in-god-we-antitrust
The thesis of this four-part series is pretty straightforward: the enshittification of the internet was the result of an enshittogenic policy environment. Platforms always had the technical means to scam us and abuse us. Tech founders and investors always included a cohort of scumbags who would trade our happiness and wellbeing for their profits. What changed was the consequences of giving in to those impulses. When Google took off, its founders' mantra was "competition is just a click away." If someone built a better search engine, users could delete their google.com bookmarks, just like they did to their altavista.com bookmarks when Google showed up.
Policymakers – not technologists or VCs – changed the environment so that this wasn't true anymore:
https://pluralistic.net/2025/05/08/who-broke-the-internet/#bruce-lehman
In last week's episode, we told the story of Bruce Lehman, the Clinton administration's Copyright Czar, who swindled the US government into passing a law that made it illegal to mod, hack, reverse-engineer or otherwise improve on an existing technology:
https://pluralistic.net/2025/05/13/ctrl-ctrl-ctrl/#free-dmitry
This neutralized a powerful anti-enshittificatory force: interoperability. All digital tech is born interoperable, because of the intrinsic characteristics of computers, their flexibility. This means that tech is inherently enshittification-resistant. When a company enshittifies its products or services, its beleaguered users and suppliers don't have to wait for a regulator to punish it. They don't have to wait for a competitor to challenge it.
Interoperable tools – ad-blockers, privacy blockers, alternative clients, mods, plugins, firmware patches and other hacks – offer immediate, profound relief from enshittification. Every ten foot pile of shit that a tech company drops into your life can be met with an eleven foot ladder of disenshittifying, interoperable technology.
That's why Lehman's successful attack on tinkering was so devastating. Before Lehman, tech had achieved a kind of pro-user equilibrium: every time a company made its products worse, they had to confront a thousand guerrilla technologists who unilaterally unfucked things: third party printer ink, file-format compatibility, protocol compatibility, all the way up to Unix, a massive operating system that was painstakingly re-created, piece by piece, in free software.
Lehman offered would-be enshittifiers a way to shift this equilibrium to full enshittification: just stick a digital lock on your product. It didn't even matter if the lock worked – under Lehman's anticircumvention law, tampering with a lock, even talking about weaknesses in a lock, became a literal felony, punishable by a five-year prison sentence and a $500K fine. Lehman's law was an offer no tech boss would refuse, and enshittification ate the world.
But Lehman's not the only policymaker who was warned about the consequences of his terrible plans, who ignored the warnings, and who disclaims any responsibility for the shitty world that followed. Long before Lehman's assault on tech policy, another group of lawyers and economists laid waste to competition policy.
In the 1960s and 1970s, a group of Chicago School economists conceived of an absurd new way to interpret competition law, which they called "the consumer welfare standard." Under this standard, the job of competition policy was to encourage monopolies to form, on the grounds that monopolies were "efficient" and would lower prices for "consumers."
The chief proponent of this standard was Robert Bork, a virulent racist whose most significant claim to fame was that he was the only government lawyer willing to help Richard Nixon illegally fire officials who wouldn't turn a blind eye to his crimes. Bork's long record of unethical behavior and scorching bigotry came back to bite him in the ass when Ronald Reagan tried to seat him on the Supreme Court, during a confirmation hearing that Bork screwed up so badly that even today, we use "borked" as a synonym for anything that is utterly fucked.
But Bork's real legacy was as a pro-monopoly propagandist, whose work helped shift how judges, government enforcers, and economists viewed antitrust law. Bork approached the text of America's antitrust laws, like the Sherman Act and the Clayton Act, with the same techniques as a Qanon follower addressing a Q "drop," applying gnostic techniques to find in these laws mystical coded language that – he asserted – meant that Congress had intended for America's anti-monopoly laws to actually support monopolies.
In episode three, we explore Bork's legacy, and how it led to what Tom Eastman calls the internet of "five giant websites, each filled with screenshots of the other four." We got great interviews and old tape for this one, including Michael Wiesel, a Canadian soap-maker who created a bestselling line of nontoxic lip-balm kits for kids, only to have Amazon shaft him by underselling him with his own product.
But the most interesting interview was with Lina Khan, the generational talent who became the youngest-ever FTC chair under Joe Biden, and launched an all-out assault on American monopolies and their vile depredations:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/14/making-good-trouble/#the-peoples-champion
Khan's extraordinary rise to power starts with a law review paper she wrote in her third year at Yale, "Amazon's Antitrust Paradox," which became the first viral law review article in history:
https://www.yalelawjournal.org/note/amazons-antitrust-paradox
"Amazon's Antitrust Paradox" was a stinging rebuke to Bork and his theories, using Amazon's documented behavior to show that after Amazon used its monopoly power to lower prices and drive rivals out of the market, it subsequently raised prices. And, contrary to Bork's theories, those new, high prices didn't conjure up new rivals who would enter the market with lower prices again, eager to steal Amazon's customers away. Instead, Amazon's demonstrated willingness to cross-subsidize divisions gigantic losses to destroy any competitor with below-cost pricing created a "kill zone" of businesses adjacent to the giant's core enterprise that no one dared enter:
https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/how-biden-can-clean-up-obamas-big
The clarity of Khan's writing, combined with her careful research and devastating conclusions dragged a vast crowd of people who'd never paid much attention to antitrust – including me! – into the fray. No wonder that four years later, she was appointed to serve as the head of the FTC, making her the most powerful consumer rights regulator in the world.
We live in an age of monopolies, with cartels dominating every part of our lives, acting as "autocrats of trade" and "kings over the necessaries of life," the corporate dictators that Senator John Sherman warned about when he was stumping for the 1890 Sherman Act, America's first antitrust law:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/20/we-should-not-endure-a-king/
Bork and his co-religionists created this age. They're the reason we live in world where we have to get our "necessaries of life" from a cartel, a duopoly or a monopoly. It's not because the great forces of history transformed the economy – it's because of these dickheads:
https://www.openmarketsinstitute.org/learn/monopoly-by-the-numbers
This episode of "Understood: Who Borked the Internet?" draws a straight line from those economists and their ideas to the world we live in today. It sets up the final episode, next week's "Kick 'Em in the Dongle," which charts a course for us to escape from the hellscape created by Bork, Lehman, and their toadies and trolls.
You can get "Understood: Who Broke the Internet?" in any podcast app, even the seriously enshittified ones (which, let's be real here, is most of them). Here's a direct link to the RSS:
https://www.cbc.ca/podcasting/includes/nakedemperor.xml
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2025/05/19/khan-thought/#they-were-warned
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jcmarchi · 2 months ago
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AI strategies for cybersecurity press releases that get coverage
New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/ai-strategies-for-cybersecurity-press-releases-that-get-coverage/
AI strategies for cybersecurity press releases that get coverage
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If you’ve ever tried to get your cybersecurity news picked up by media outlets, you’ll know just how much of a challenge (and how disheartening) it can be. You pour hours into what you think is an excellent announcement about your new security tool, threat research, or vulnerability discovery, only to watch it disappear into journalists’ overflowing inboxes without a trace.
The cyber PR space is brutally competitive. Reporters at top publications receive tens, if not hundreds, of pitches each day, and they have no choice but to be highly selective about which releases they choose to cover and which to discard. Your challenge then isn’t just creating a good press release, it’s making one that grabs attention and stands out in an industry drowning in technical jargon and “revolutionary” solutions.
Why most cybersecurity press releases fall flat
Let’s first look at some of the main reasons why many cyber press releases fail:
They’re too complex from the start, losing non-technical reporters
They bury the actual news under corporate marketing speak.
They focus on product features rather than the real-world impact or problems they solve.
They lack credible data or specific research findings that journalists can cite as support.
Most of these problems have one main theme: Journalists aren’t interested in promoting your product or your business. They are looking after their interests and seeking newsworthy stories their audiences care about. Keep this in mind and make their job easier by showing them exactly why your announcement matters.
Learning how to write a cybersecurity press release
What does a well-written press release look like? Alongside the reasons listed above, many companies make the mistake of submitting poorly formatted releases that journalists will be unlikely to spend time reading.
It’s worth learning how to write a cybersecurity press release properly, including the preferred structure (headline, subheader, opening paragraph, boilerplate, etc). And, be sure to review some examples of high-quality press releases as well.
AI strategies that transform your press release process
Let’s examine how AI tools can significantly enhance your cyber PR at every stage.
1. Research Enhancement
Use AI tools to track media coverage patterns and identify emerging trends in cybersecurity news. You can analyse which types of security stories gain traction, and this can help you position your announcement in that context.
Another idea is to use LLMs (like Google’s Gemini or OpenAI’s ChatGPT) to analyse hundreds of successful cybersecurity press releases in a niche similar to yours. Ask it to identify common elements in those that generated significant coverage, and then use these same features in your cyber PR efforts.
To take this a step further, AI-powered sentiment analysis can help you understand how different audience segments receive specific cybersecurity topics. The intelligence can help you tailor your messaging to address current concerns and capitalise on positive industry momentum.
2. Writing assistance
If you struggle to convey complex ideas and terminology in more accessible language, consider asking the LLM to help simplify your messaging. This can help transform technical specifications into clear, accessible language that non-technical journalists can understand.
Since the headline is the most important part of your release, use an LLM to generate a handful of options based on your core announcement, then select the best one based on clarity and impact. Once your press release is complete, run it through an LLM to identify and replace jargon that might be second nature to your security team but may be confusing to general tech reporters.
3. Visual storytelling
If you are struggling to find ways to explain your product or service in accessible language, visuals can help. AI image generation tools, like Midjourney, create custom visuals based on prompts that help illustrate your message. The latest models can handle highly complex tasks.
With a bit of prompt engineering (and by incorporating the press release you want help with), you should be able to create accompanying images and infographics that bring your message to life.
4. Video content
Going one step further than a static image, a brief AI-generated explainer video can sit alongside your press release, providing journalists with ready-to-use content that explains complex security concepts. Some ideas include:
Short Explainer Videos: Use text-to-video tools to turn essential sections of your press release into a brief (60 seconds or less) animated or stock-footage-based video. You can usually use narration and text overlays directly on the AI platforms as well.
AI Avatar Summaries: Several tools now enable you to create a brief video featuring an AI avatar that presents the core message of the press release. A human-looking avatar reads out the content and delivers an audio and video component for your release.
Data Visualisation Videos: Use AI tools to animate key statistics or processes described in the release for enhanced clarity.
Final word
Even as you use the AI tools you have at your disposal, remember that the most effective cybersecurity press releases still require that all-important human insight and expertise. Your goal isn’t to automate the entire process. Instead, use AI to enhance your cyber PR efforts and make your releases stand out from the crowd.
AI should help emphasise, not replace, the human elements that make security stories so engaging and compelling. Be sure to shine a spotlight on the researchers who made the discovery, the real-world implications of any threat vulnerabilities you uncover, and the people security measures ultimately protect.
Combine this human-focused storytelling with the power of AI automation, and you’ll ensure that your press releases and cyber PR campaigns get the maximum mileage.
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leonw4nter · 1 year ago
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Look Into My Eyes and You Won’t Ever Have To Ask
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DI!Leon and F!Reader
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“Y/N, we’re going to jump into the water. We’ll have to brace for impact, you especially.” Leon informs you urgently as he clutches the top of his dislocated shoulder but he eyes your broken rib, obviously putting more emphasis on your injury even though both your conditions are critical.
“Will we make it with your arm?” You ask before wincing. “Don’t force it back into the joint, you’ll make things worse for yourself.”
Leon scoffs, a soft gust of wind leaving his chapped and busted lips that are somehow still curled skyward. “Drop’s not that high but we still gotta be careful and don’t worry, I won’t pop this thing back in place. I’m not that stupid.”
You two look down from the platform and into the dark and rocky water below; the drop is high and along with other metal debris falling into the water, jumping would be dangerous. The response team’s arrival can’t be estimated due to several factors so you’re not sure how long you and Leon have to stay out in the water; treading will be difficult for him due to his arm and it’s not going to be easy helping Leon stay afloat due to a cracked rib and what you’re guessing, a fractured hip as well. This mission has not been kind to you and him, the B.O.Ws involved seemingly much stronger than those you two have dealt with in the past. The mission was supposed to be a lot simpler, a “slip in and slip out” kind of mission but due to unforeseen circumstances, you two are now on a high platform with broken bones while dressed in formal clothing. There was an auction afterparty on a private island that you two had to infiltrate while posing as a married couple, complete with rings and an expertly-falsified marriage certificate. The goal was to grab the lone sample of an engineered Plaga strain to bring back to a research lab and have scientists re-engineer the DNA to try and weaken it. Sounded simple enough until someone’s advisor recognized Leon and had you two’s cover blown and now landed you two in this shitty situation. Mentally and physically preparing yourselves as much as you can, you two slip your shoes off and chuck them to the water to prevent adding weight to your bodies because staying afloat will prove to be a challenge.
Just as you were about to say you were ready, a Tyrant busts the door and spots the two of you. Not sparing a moment for you two to even think of getting ready, the B.O.W runs towards the both of you. Leon gives you a look and swiftly takes your hand, the both of you leaping into the ocean with eyes shut and breaths held. The impact of sinking into the water knocks the wind out of your lungs, cracked ribs uncomfortably disturbed. Your eyes open, greeted by the dark black blur of the ocean and salt of the sea slowly irritating them. You turn to look for Leon, fighting the pain of your injury and trying to spot him amidst the black sea. You spot a suit trying to swim upwards to get air and that is enough confirmation for you so you try to swim upwards to get some air and try to look for a chopper. Unfortunately, something tugs against your leg and it appears that debris has hooked around your ankle and is dragging you downwards. You bend down and try to wriggle your foot free, feeling around in the dark since you couldn’t see. Fortunately for you, you managed to get it out and you furiously try to get back to the surface to tell Leon you’re fine.
You gasp sharply and tread water despite the roaring ache in your arms and legs, your head turning here and there to look for your partner.
“Y/N!”
You heard a strained call for your name, trying to locate him amidst the splashing surface due to the pitter patter of heavy rains on the surface of the water obstructing your view.
“Leon!” You call out and try to swim to him but he yells your name in a perturbed tone.
“Big wave!”
You look to your right and see a large wave headed for the both of you. You didn’t have time to fully sink back down and so the wave tossed you, causing you to accidentally swallow some water and choke on it while fighting for your life. Could it get any worse? It could, since the Tyrant above you decided to rip the metal door off of its hinges and throw it down into the water above you. Tossed and disoriented in the water while choking, you didn’t realize that you were heading in the direction of a metal part of the door jutting out. You hit your head hard and fell unconscious, all the thrashing and efforts slowly coming to a halt.
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Leon woke up in a hospital, his right arm placed in a sling and his other arm attached to IV drips. There were several electrodes stuck to his chest, connected to a beeping machine. Dazed and confused, especially with the bright lights of the hospital room, he nimbly sat up despite the dizziness that overcame him and got up, not minding if he was connected to several machines. The sudden commotion alerts the nurses on duty, rushing to him just as he reaches to remove the devices attached to him.
“Sir, please calm down–”
“Where is she–”
“Sir, you can’t–”
“Where’s my wife?!”
He had never yelled like that, not even during training when cadets couldn’t get their form right. Not even when he was frustrated with how life turned out for him.
“Where’s my wife? I need to see her,” he repeats less loudly but still retaining the same stern tone he used earlier. He isn’t moving as much but he keeps his eyes peeled on the door of his hospital room.
“She’s on the same floor, 3 rooms across yours, sir. She’s still unconscious the last time I checked so please be careful and try not to make any sudden noise,” a nurse tells him. He calms down, his body no longer as tense as it was earlier. His shoulders sink, occasionally moving his free arm so the nurses can reattach the electrodes that have gone loose when he moved violently earlier.
“Sorry,” he mumbles. “And thank you. For telling me.”
“It’s fine, sir. You did that out of love and concern for your wife. You must love her very much if you lost your cool and acted irrationally just to make sure she’s safe.”
“Ah. Yes, of course.”
The nurses helping him simply smiled and continued making sure all instruments on him were secure before helping him back to his hospital bed and making sure he was laying comfortably and didn’t place any pressure on any other injuries he sustained. Before the last nurse turned around to leave him be for the time being to go call a doctor and have the doctor check his vitals, she informed him that guests aren’t allowed at your room for the time being that you’re unconscious. He nods, understanding since you did take a particularly dangerous hit to the head and nearly drowned. He sits in silence, head hung low as he looks at himself and sees his injured arm on a black sling and his suit discarded in favor of a hospital gown. Purples and yellows, along with some small red spots, decorate his skin along with new scars among old ones. Now that he’s more aware of how he’s feeling, he realizes just how much his back hurts and how sore his joints feel. He’s no stranger to an achy and sore body, especially after missions, but as his age progressed the pain seems to have increased along with it. He can’t carry heavy things like he used to and he now takes longer breaks to regain his bearings after training. His gaze falls on his hand and notices the fact that his ring is missing first, not the redness and the bruising in his knuckles on top of recovering wounds from the previous mission. His eyes widened, looking around for his ring until his gaze fell on the ring inside of a tiny ziplock on his bedside table. He sighs, a small lock of brown hair falling down and covering his eye. His mind drifts back to the mission and his small outburst earlier, flitting between the two events. He feels guilty to have taken longer to bring you back up to the surface despite the arm proving to be difficult to swim with. If only he’d already swam up to you and moved you two somewhere less prone to having debris dropped on, you wouldn’t be suffering a concussion. If only he didn’t resist having you style his hair differently, that damn man wouldn’t have recognized him and caused an uproar. For once in a long time, none of his thoughts went into whether or not the mission was a success; he was entirely concerned with your well-being as a nasty guilt eroded his heart slowly and painfully. He loved you, he loved you dangerously for he would do anything brash if it meant securing your safety at the expense of his. He cherished you more than the stars that the night sky offered for your presence outshone even the most stellar cluster of stars. He cherished you more than the serenity that solitude offered for in your presence he could find a peace that solitude could never offer him. He knew the lone and solitary path, having gone down that road almost all his life but when he knew you, he could never go back to living without you by his side again. Hell, he loves you more than he does with whatever freedom he has left after being forced to work for the government for when he’s with you, he finds the true meaning of liberty. For the first time in the longest time, he prays. He stopped praying in the winter of the same year he turned 21, the prospect of believing in a God and holding on to a prayer as good as stupid and a waste of breath. Despite his doubt with the heavens, he is firm in his belief that you will recover soon. In a universe where he sees no god, he prays for you for in you he has found something sacred.
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He waits for several days and nights, occasionally getting up from his room to drag himself and the IV drip to the locked door of your hospital room. He tells nurses passing by that he’s your “husband” and that he just wants to see you, even for a little bit. The more he explains to nurses that he’s your “husband”, he feels like a liar. On a fake piece of paper, he is, but do you really want him to be your husband? He is far from ideal– he used to be a heavy drinker, he’s got emotional baggage, and a life with him would put her and possibly, your future family, in constant danger. He knows you’re very capable, more than capable in fact, to defend yourself but you can only do so much to defend yourself, you lying unconscious in a bed attached to tubes being proof of that. As he turns to walk back into his room, a million thoughts run through his head; he decides to tell you about how he feels and treat you the best he can, whether or not you feel the same way towards him. He’ll even request the D.S.O. to put both of you on a break since you both deserve time to focus on your recovery and pursuit of interests outside of work. He also considers writing a book to record his thoughts but considering the injury on his dominant arm, he realizes that writing will be a lot more difficult. On the steps back to his room, he also mentally lists down what he wants to gift you but he stops himself– realizing that he’s getting too ahead of himself.
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“Oh, he did react violently. Very violently.” your nurse tells you as the doctor with her takes your vitals.
You asked her how he’s doing as soon as you got up, looking around worriedly for your ring and your other belongings. The lights disoriented you for a moment, too bright for your pupils that are still adjusting after being asleep for nearly an entire month. You also learned that he got discharged 2 weeks ago but still came by often to visit you. He’s also been said to occasionally brush your hair away from your face and change the water from the vase and flowers he brought you a day after he got discharged.
“He was yelling, moving so much and screamed ‘where’s my wife?!’. Honestly, it was so cute!” she said with a wide smile.
“The entire floor heard him since he opened the door loudly and screamed even louder but he cared less, even if his ass is poking out of his hospital gown.”
You blushed at the mental image of Leon looking for you like a madman in a hospital gown where he’s naked at the back.
“He only calmed down after we told him where you were and he stayed in his room, head hung low the entire day and we all honestly felt bad for him.”
You nodded to her words, your gaze falling to the ring in the ziploc baggie on your bedside table. You asked for a phone and called him, telling him that you woke up and he can come visit you.
“He seemed really happy, could tell that wideass grin of his even through the phone,” you told the nurse and doctor while they smiled and giggled for you.
“Go give him the best kiss you’ve ever given him and profess your love again like it’s the first time!”
Their words made you blush again, only this time it’s because they don’t know you two aren’t exactly married. You two have only kissed once and that was during the fake wedding that the company set up for you two, present with a witness with no affiliation to any of the guests or you two. You’re not even sure if him talking to you was purely out of kindness or if he did that in order to keep up the image that things have not gone awkward. You’re even surprised Leon doesn’t seem to have been picking up the hints you’ve been dropping at him; for an agent who’s trained to be highly perceptive of people’s actions and body language, he sure doesn’t know how to pick up signs that you’re flirting with him. Unless he doesn’t want you. You groan and carefully rest your head on the pillow behind you but you stop, wincing because you just remembered you’ve got a busted rib or two.
A few minutes later, the sliding door to your room opens and in comes Leon with a bouquet of sunflowers on his free hand because the other is on a black sling. His black leather jacket is draped over his shoulders and he can hardly contain his joy at seeing you awake.
Placing the bouquet on your lap, he cages you in for a hug with consideration for your injuries. You swear you hear a soft sniffle from him and feel his body slightly jerk and as he pulls back, he’s got semi-glossy eyes.
“Y/N. Hey, how are you feeling?” He softly asks as he takes your hand in his.
“Feeling amazing. You?”
“Better than ever now that you’re up.”
“That’s good.”
A comfortable silence settles between the both of you, Leon taking one more good look at you. He thought he had a ton of things on his chest but that couldn’t compare to the amount you had on yours– literally and metaphorically. He breaks the silence first by clearing his throat before speaking.
“I– Uh… I got you some flowers,” he explains as he picks up the bouquet and shows some of the flowers to you.
He definitely picked it up in a rush since you spot a small card in the middle of all the sunflowers that says ‘well wishes on your new business’ in swirly gold lettering. You smile for the first time in a long time, finding the gesture to be sweet coming from Leon. He probably got it seeing as how sunflowers seemed to be a bright and happy kind of flower and he wanted you to feel even a little bit positive even in this condition and it’s definitely working but you still decided to ask him why he chose sunflowers amidst all the different pre-packaged flowers.
“Why sunflowers?” you ask as you gently inhale the scent of the flowers despite sunflowers being odorless.
“It only made sense for me to get these for you since sunflowers always face the sun,” he explains as he drags a chair to sit down on as he talks. “I go to you when I need help with something and you’re always there for me so I guess… in a way… you’re kind of like my sun.”
His words trigger your heart to ram itself against your ribcage, your heartbeat thundering so loudly in your ear as you imagine color furiously rushing to fill in the paleness of your face. Leon looks away, a hand making its way to the back of his neck and rubbing it. His gaze returns to you but his eyes shoot up to his brows, picking up your hand with a finger clipped to the pulse oximeter, looking at you worriedly.
“Your pulse is picking up. You alright? Need water? A nurse?” he rapidly asks. “Tell me what I can do for you.”
The pulse oximeter continues to display your heightened heart rate and you want to tell Leon that you feel fine– amazing even– but that would contradict with the reading of the device. You can’t tell him that whatever he just said made your heart race because you love like him so much, it’s almost embarrassing.
“Water would be nice,” you say. He gets up and pours you a glass of water, handing it to you carefully while keeping his hand near the glass in case you don’t have the strength to hold it yet. For the entire day, he tells you all about what he’s been up to while you were unconscious– the break that the D.S.O. gave to the both of you, the mission, his arm, his thoughts while you were gone, and a lot more things.
“Leon Kennedy prayed for me?” you ask in shock, mouth agape while still curled into a perplexed smile. “Leon ‘religion is beyond me’ Kennedy clasped his hands together, shut his eyes, and devoted a few moments of his day to pray for me.”
You laugh heartily, clapping along. You find the image of Leon praying to be a little funny, impossible even; you know about Leon’s past on religion and how he was a practicing Catholic up until the winter of the same year he turned 21 but it seemed so foreign for him to be praying for you. Little did you know, he found himself praying because his love for you taught him devotion in feelings more powerful than he.
“Shut up,” he mumbles while his cheeks burn pink. “Don’t laugh at me like that, at least it worked.”
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You told Leon about what the nurses told you about him nearly having a meltdown as soon as he woke up. You’ve never seen him bury his face into his hands and groan, leaning into your side and burying his face there as he pulled his leather jacket above his head and begged you to stop teasing him about it. It’s been a week since you’ve woken up and Leon’s visited you every single day since then, occasionally bringing personal items you told him to bring for you or lunch boxes he cooked and made for you. Bento boxes, he called them. He showed you the entire playlist of YouTube videos he made full of bento box cooking videos, some of the videos having the red bar underneath them.
“Rebecca told me all about them, said that they were balanced with everything you’ll need to recover,” he explained. “They’re pretty neat, actually. It’s fun making them look all cutesy for you. I’m pretty sure we’re giving the nurses a new reason to giggle every day.”
You smile as you take a bite of the spam, humming in satisfaction as the flavors erupt. You thank him for the effort he’s been putting into cooking for you, to which he smiles and nods to.
“Leon,” you say as you put the lid back on the bento box. “Um– I’ve… There’s…. I have to tell you something.”
“Hm?” He says, putting his pocketbook into the inside pocket of his jacket.
“We’re on a break right?”
“Yeah. Why?”
He shifts in the chair and you begin to fiddle with something small in between your fingers.
“Are we still required to keep this up?”
He stays silent for a moment until you gesture to the rings on both of your hands. “Not sure but not until we confirm that the mission is a success in a briefing, I guess we have to.”
“You don’t have to cook for me, you know. The hospital makes sure to feed me everyday.”
“I don’t have to but I want to.”
“I’m sure no one’s suspicious of us being a sham couple. You’re always nice to me and it seems genuine so you’re free to go.”
“Y/N,” Leon begins. “I’m not doing this for the mission. I’m pretty sure praying for you isn’t required by the D.S.O. Before you begin to tell me that I’m being nice for the record, Y/N, I’ve never prayed for anyone to wake up from a coma. You’re the first.”
“Does that mean you love me, Leon?” you ask. You lock stares with him, determined to not let Leon leave your room for the night without getting a direct answer from him.
“Y/N. If you stared any longer and fiercer into my eyes a long time ago, I would’ve crumbled then and there and told you that I have always loved you. All this started from a deception but it led me to the most honest feeling I’ve ever felt so yes, I do love you.”
Silence befalls the both of you in the room, save for the soft beeping of the machines in the same room as you two are in. Amidst the silence, you two come to a wordless understanding that you two are in love and have been in love for a long time. A delicate smile points the tips of your lips upwards before a soft laugh leaves you, genuinely ecstatic that your feelings have been returned and he fiercely feels the same as you do. He follows suit, smiling and chuckling as he takes your hand into his and kisses the back of your knuckles, nuzzling into your open palm as you gently rub your thumb back and forth on his stubbly cheek.
“In a few years time, we’re going to replace these ones with actual rings,” you say to Leon to which he nods, silently basking in your beauty and in the joy that there’s a future ahead for him with you. A nurse knocks at the door, informing Leon that visitation hours end in a minute and he has to go soon.
“Well, looks like I gotta go,” he quietly says though you know he doesn’t want to go just yet and frankly, you don’t want him to go just yet.
“You’ve only got a minute left before you do leave, just wait it out,” you urge him.
Sighing but not out of displeasure, he sits back down and leans near you to bask in your presence before he heads back into his lonely apartment. An entire minute passes by and Leon begins to get up but not before you sit up, reach for the sleeve of another one of his many jackets, pull him down to your level, and place a hungry yet velvety kiss on his lips. His eyes are widened before he shuts them, his free hand traveling to the base of your head and gently drawing your face nearer to deepen his kiss. A nurse walks in again, telling Leon to leave since his visiting hours are over but neither of you are too stubborn to pull away and break the kiss just yet. Your hands finds a portion of Leon’s jacket draped loosely over his shoulders and lifts it up, shielding both your faces as you feel a smile widen on Leon’s lips fitted against yours. You two are definitely giving the nurses a new reason to gush and giggle every time they are going to see either of you. As for you alone, you’ll have some explaining to do to the doctor checking your vitals for the irregularities in your heart rate.
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NOTE - I didn't proofread this so if you spotted errors then I'm rlly sorry because I'm lazy (💀). This fic is a lot longer than my other drops lately so I hope we're all okay w that!!! I've got like 2 requests in my Inbox so to my anons who are waiting, it might take a while but I'm def going to work on them and post something for you <3 Happy Pride Month to my queer readers and queer mutuals, you deserve to be seen, heard, celebrated, and appreciated!!! Support your queer friend or someone you know who is queer by doing something for them or getting them a food item that they like, make them feel extra special this month yk :3 Anyways, that's all and thank you for reading my fics!!!!!!! I <3333333 UUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The wavy divider was made by @roseraris , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).
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queenie-official · 9 months ago
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going with ani to the cafè for pumpkin spice latte only for him to be super nervous since we are so cool and he's some random engineering nerd ☝️🤓
‘Fall In Love With Me’
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main masterlist Word count: little over 3k
pairing: modern!Anakin skywalker x fem!reader
a/n: you sending this request in as soon as i mentioned wanting to write fall fics is iconic of you and i love you for it 💋
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“come on y/n, this is the only good thing about college! skipping without any repercussions” Honey continued to beg as you walked across campus.
“that’s easy to say when you're skipping a language class you’re already fluent in” you protest as she clings to your arm, pleading like a child.
“you don’t even care about French class, you just wanna ogle your little crush” she retorts before tugging on your arm as she comes to a stop forcing you to stop with her.
“okay that’s only half true, i like French class” you hardly believe your own lie as it tumbles out of your mouth. judging by Honey’s deadpanned expression she doesn’t believe it either.
“you were complaining just yesterday how the Teacher refuses to speak in any other language than French and you had no clue what was going on.” if only you didn’t vent to her about everything maybe then she wouldn’t be able to call you out on your bullshit.
“you’re gonna make me late” you sigh, slumping forward solemnly. she rolls her eyes not buying the act for a second.
“good, if you’re going to be late then it just makes even more sense for you to skip with me.” you let out a groan, gently pulling your arm out of her hold before starting to walk again. “you could at least talk to the guy if you’re gonna keep going just to look at him.”
“he’s too smart for me, i mean he’s a mechanical engineering major for gods sake” did he tell you that himself? no, you and Honey just did a little snooping through instagram after you got his full name and found out for yourselves.
“i have a friend who dated an engineering major and she told me they are not as smart as they think they are.” right but he was, he had all A’s it was a known fact around campus. Anakin Skywalker the college’s golden boy.
academic wise anyway, he didn’t socialize with anyone. you had guessed it was because he was much too focused on keeping his grades as good as they were, he had to if he wanted to keep his full ride scholarship… was it considered stalking if you got this information on a public platform?
“yea well Anakin’s different Honey” you can feel the look she’s giving you and you hate it. she jogs up in front of you now, forcing you to look her in the eyes.
“fine don’t skip but you have to talk to him, you’ve got the confidence and social skills to charm a snake y/n stop selling yourself short” you both stare at each other, a silent challenge that you always lose.
“alright!” you huff defeated and she cheers, throwing her arms up in victory before doing a celebratory dance.
“have fun talking to the boy of your dreams” she teases before spinning on her heel to walk in the opposite direction as you.
“have fun skipping spanish” you snort and she shouts back a quick ‘i will’ as you continue walking towards the building.
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your professor was the type of teacher to close the door as soon as class began. ’if you want to waste my time by being late, don't bother coming at all’ was the first thing she’d said at the beginning of the semester, it was the only sentence she’d said in english.
which is exactly why you speed walk past her right as she’s starting to head to the door, keeping your head low when you see the annoyed look on her face as you do. internally counting your lucky stars that you somehow managed to make it before she’d closed it.
Anakin was always one of the first people to arrive in class so it was no surprise he was already there when you get to take a proper look at your surroundings. he was sitting in his usual spot; last row, second to last seat from the aisle.
you take a deep breath mustering all the courage you have as you walk down the aisle past your usual spot and straight to one of the empty seats next to him. he stiffens, hands freezing mid type on his laptop before he forces himself to relax and continue like normal.
you spare a glance at his laptop screen, wondering if it was related to the class. maybe you had missed an entrance ticket or something. you’re met with a shit ton of equations that makes you want to do a double take, unable to even process what you’d just seen.
the sound of your professor starting the lesson pulls your attention before you can. not that you could even understand what she said, all of it going in one ear and out the other. still you pretend to listen, wanting to give it a little time before you possibly ruin this man’s whole mood.
you pretty much dissociate, resting your hand on your palm without a thought in your mind. it’s about thirty minutes later when everyone who didn’t already have their laptops open are pulling them out of their bags that you snap out of it, following their lead you take yours out before turning to Anakin.
kind of a perfect way to start a conversation if you think about it. “sorry, but do you know what we’re supposed to be doing?” you tilt your head slightly watching as it takes a second for it to click in his mind that you’re speaking to him.
“we have to go onto canvas and answer the newest discussion post and then we have to comment on two other people’s answers all in French” he says after clearing his throat, his voice a soft rumble that makes your heart flutter.
you smile warmly at him, a whispered “thank you“ rolling off of your tongue before you turn back to your laptop. you’re about to copy and paste the question into google translate when you realize you could use this as another excuse to talk to him. “don’t suppose you’ve got any clue what this is asking us?”
his attention is on you again, eyes flicker over your face with uncertainty before he looks at your screen “comment prépares-tu la journée?” he reads it out loud in an accent that rivals the professors “it’s basically a formal way of asking how you prepare for the day”
you nod thinking of your answer only to remember a second later you’d have to respond in French. you bite your lip fighting back the urge to ask another question, afraid that you may start to annoy him. you tap on the table lightly locked in an internal debate, and right when you’re about to cave and go back to your trusty friend google Anakin speaks up again.
“do you need help forming your answer in French?” you can’t help but laugh as you turn to him, a shy smile growing on your face.
“is it that obvious i’m struggling?” you joke at your own misery and he rubs the back of his neck, nervously chuckling.
”no, no i wouldn’t say that…” he trails off before finishing with “well maybe a little bit” which makes you snort and cover your mouth to make sure you don’t laugh too loudly.
“help would be much appreciated, thank you” he smiles, wiping his palms on his jeans before clearing his throat again.
“it’s no problem i already finished my work anyway, i was working on homework for another class” he says while closing his laptop “i’m Anakin by the way” he extends his hand and you're quick to shake it. his palms are clammy, his grip gentle yet firm.
he was definitely nervous, even more than you were which somehow helped fuel you with more confidence. “y/n, it’s nice to meet you” you greet back, releasing his hand and turning your laptop screen more towards him.
“it’s.. uh nice to meet you too” it’s almost funny how awkward he is, you’d expected the college golden boy to be more.. well suave. it was endearing though, and you wish you’d made the effort to talk to him sooner.
you tell Anakin your normal routine before leaving for the day and he translates it for you, at first you were the one typing it but when he saw you failing to spell out the words correctly he offered to just do that as well.
of course you agreed, sliding your laptop more towards him. he reaches forward immediately retyping what he’d told you, and you get a front row seat to watch his mind work. so casual and effortlessly translating each thing you told him onto the discussion post. you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t attractive.
thanks to Anakin’s help you’re able to get the discussion post done and comment on two other people’s posts in under 10 minutes, leaving you with nothing to do as the professor waits for everyone to finish before continuing the lesson.
“so do you usually finish all your work early and work on homework for other classes?” you ask wanting to spark conversation again before he gets the chance to reopen his laptop.
“yeah, French is kind of my first language- my mom had me speak both French and english growing up” he answers, shifting in his chair nervously. uncomfortable from the attention you were giving him. “so this is sort of.. my easy pass class, i just took it for the credits”
“i wanted this to be my easy class, and then the first day she spoke almost purely in French and i knew i was fucked- it’s a miracle i’m passing” that miracle was your usual seatmate who would always give you the answers.
“not to be rude but uh.. how are you passing?” you can tell he didn’t want to come off too blunt but there wasn’t really another way to put it that wasn’t beating around the bush.
“lots of google translate and help from peers” he laughs at how proudly you say that, and you can’t help but smile enjoying the sound of it.
“right, that makes a lot of sense” you raise your brow at that unable to resist the urge to mess with him.
“a lot of sense is crazy wording” you act offended and he instantly starts to panic, backtracking his statement while attempting to apologize. you can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you making him freeze when he realizes you weren’t actually upset.
he doesn’t respond even as you apologize, simply shaking his head with a faint smile. he relaxes in his seat, a look on his face like he wanted to tease back but was still unsure.
once you’ve calmed down and chosen to ignore the looks you were getting from the people around you there’s a brief silence until your professor speaks up, calling everyone’s attention. all of the discussion posts must have been turned in as she now continues the lesson.
it’s not until the end of class that you and Anakin speak again, you turning to him as he packs his stuff away. “hey, we should hang out sometime” you suggest, rather bold for someone who was afraid to talk to him a little over an hour ago.
he whips his head towards you, completely caught off guard. “i- i…” he stutters, his brain trying desperately to catch up with the situation.
you wince worried you misread him, maybe you had actually offended him with your joke or perhaps he had no intentions or desire to talk with you after today.
when he sees you physically pull back he forces an answer out of himself in an almost panic. “no! well i mean yeah- i’d like that..” he squeezes his eyes shut cringing inwardly.
“you’re cute” you giggle, and he reddens. eyes snapping open as he tries to catch his breath, you’re too much for him. like taking a sip of coffee that has way too much sugar and cream in it.
“cute?” he repeats practically breathless, he swallows hard. looking down to his bag for a distraction, busying himself with zipping it closed.
“there’s a cafe i like to go to with my friend that we could go to together?” you offer while pulling your phone out of your pocket. readying it for him to put his number in as you sling your bag over your shoulder.
he hesitates for a moment before taking your phone; typing in his name and number, eyes flicking up to you every once in a while like he expected you to change your mind and tell him to stop.
“i’d love too” he finally responds, handing your phone back with his number officially saved into your contacts. you have to hold in a giddy squeal, doing your best to play it cool.
“great it’s a date!” you cheer singsongy, putting your phone back in your pocket. Anakin looks like he may pass out, every time he thinks you can’t surprise him more you do. “i’ll text you the details later tonight”
his mouth opens and closes, every possible response dying on his tongue. you give him the time he needs, brows knitted together in understanding.
he fakes a cough, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “okay, i look forward to it” he says voice cracking slightly which he tries to play off with another fake cough, turning away from you and heading out of the classroom in a hurry.
as soon as he’s out of sight you let out the squeal you’d been holding in, jumping up and down before excitedly running out of the classroom to go find and tell Honey about what happened.
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you wait just outside of campus. rocking on your feet as the cold autumn breeze rushes past you making your nose cold, honestly you were far too happy to care.
i’d been two days since your interaction with Anakin and today was the day you’d both agreed to meet up after classes finished. the wait was agonizing but worth it, especially when you see Anakin heading towards you.
he had on a flannel overtop a gray shirt, hair tussled from the wind. palms sweaty which he tried to keep under control, alternating between wiping them on his jeans and trying to fix his hair.
he hasn’t noticed you yet, mumbling something to himself as he walked. you contemplate whether or not to say something, afraid you may startle him if you do but thankfully he finally looks up from the pavement eyes locking with yours. he stiffens mouth snapping shut before standing tall as he tries to look relaxed.
“y/n hey..” it was awkward for sure and you had to bite back a giggle not wanting to make him second guess himself.
“hey, you ready to go? it’s not too far a walk from here” you point behind you in the opposite direction from which he came. he nods, robotically coming to your side as you begin walking.
there’s a awkward silence between you both, Anakin wanting to talk to you but unsure where to start. “sooo…you like coffee?”
you laugh, unable to hold it back this time with how strained his question came out. “i do, it’s a college student's saving grace don’t you think” you half joke, after all there have been many times coffee has actually saved you from passing out and turning in a late assignment.
he smiles, relaxing with your easy going nature. “oh yeah, coffee the holy grail for all college students” he jokes back for the first time and you beam. “you said you go to this cafe with your friend?”
“yep, me and Honey go all the time. they’ve got the best coffee and baked goods. it’s also the perfect environment to do homework or study” you both round the corner of the sidewalk, walking a little ways down to the crosswalk.
“oh that reminds me i’ve been meaning to ask, what’s your major?” well if he was asking that then he had yet to see your instagram account since it was in your bio. good because you’re pretty sure there’s a photo of you from middle school still up on your page.
“i’m an art history major” his brows raise slightly at that, making you tilt your head curiously. “what’d you think i majored in?” he shrugs unsure what to say.
“i don’t know… maybe psychology” this time your brows raise and he laughs. “you seem like the type” your nose wrinkles unsure how to take that but you ultimately decide to brush it off when it was clear he didn’t mean it in a bad way. “why art history?”
“i wanna become an art teacher, i need a bachelors degree for that to happen and art history seemed like the most interesting.” you both slow to a stop as you arrive at the cafe; Anakin steps in front of you, opening the door and holding it for you.
”thanks” you smile, walking in and heading to the usual table in front of the big storefront window that you and Honey sit at, placing your backpack onto the back of the chair. Anakin follows your lead doing the same with his bag before you both get into line.
thankfully it was short, most students preferred the other cafe directly across the street from campus. “ooo they finally have the fall flavors on the menu” you chirp excitedly upon seeing the newly chalked on pumpkin spice latte on the menu.
“are they any good?” your jaw drops dramatically, turning your head slowly towards him in full theatrics.
“you’ve never had a pumpkin spice latte before!?” he smiles, laughing awkwardly while shaking his head no. “oh we’re gonna fix that right now” you don’t even let him respond before stepping in front of him once the person in front of you leaves the line, ordering two pumpkin spice lattes and apple cider donuts for the both of you.
you don’t let him pay either, brushing him off with a “if i’m the one indoctrinating you into fall culture then it’s only right i pay” he only relents when you add “you can pay next time” a content smile on his face at the prospect there was even going to be a next time.
the cashier hands you a bag with the Donuts as well as two disposable cups with your lattes which you take to the table you saved. animatedly sliding the cup over to him as you pull out the donuts placing them on napkins in front of you both. “come on try it, i bet you’re gonna love it”
“a lot of confidence for someone who doesn’t even know if i like sweets” your face falls not having even thought about that, he laughs instantly making you flush when you realize he was messing with you.
still you smile back, it was about time he got you back. really you were just happy he was even comfortable enough to do it. “alright enough teasing, chop chop Frenchie”
“what am i a dog” he snorts, brows creasing together when he laughs this time. it was hardy and from his chest and gods did it make you warm to have been able to pull that out of him. “okay, okay i’m doing it” he says after you nudge him under the table with your foot.
you wait with anticipation as he brings the cup to his mouth, taking a sip of the warm nutty pumpkin flavored drink. you lean in as he takes his time, one hundred percent keeping a straight face on purpose. “..well?”
he pulls the cup away making a show of smacking his lips together to ‘savor’ the flavor. “Anakin!” you groan and he chuckles, holding his hands up in defense before grabbing the cup again.
“you’re right, it’s delicious” you cheer at the success, and he just watches with a smile. taking another sip of his drink before taking a big bite out of the donut you'd given him. his eyes widening as he tries it. “oh this is a dangerous combination”
“addicting isn’t it?” he nods enthusiastically, practically wolfing down the donut in a few seconds and almost completely chugging the latte. “oh my gosh” you laugh, before taking a sip of your own. “it’s not going anywhere”
“not technically true, you said it yourself these are seasonal items” he says and then chugs the rest of his drink. you may have actually just sent this man on a path of addiction.
“well we’ll just have to make it a tradition to come here every fall then. just for the coffee and donuts” he smiles brightly, more than satisfied with your words.
“is the rest of their menu this good year round?” you nod and he leans back in his chair, fiddling with the napkin his donut had been on. he licks the bottom of his lip in thought, bitting the inside of his cheek to hide his nerves before he finally speaks. “well maybe we should make it a year round tradition”
you lean on your palm, absolutely crushing harder on him with each passing second. “year round dates? kind of sounds like you're asking me out” he practically falls out of his chair, choking on whatever sugar the apple cider donuts had left at the back of his throat.
“i-i…i mean..” he stammers and you start to worry you may accidentally be the death of him. “i’d like that a lot.. you know only if you’re into it too-“ he cuts himself off mumbling a ‘she brought it up of course she is’ to himself which makes you giggle.
“why don’t you ask me?” you wait for his answer, not even trying to give him a break. he’s still barely recovered from your initial tease, cheeks a bright red that he’s trying desperately to push down.
it takes him a moment, before he finally works up the courage to speak again. “would you wanna go out with me?” he’s quiet and you briefly contemplate dragging it out more, just to watch him squirm but the poor boy looked tormented enough so you finally grant him reprieve.
“i’d love to” he smiles, relaxing before laughing at himself and you join in. the two of you lost in a fit of giggles, that’s how it is the rest of the date. the two of you getting to know each other better and tossing jokes around.
the more comfortable Anakin becomes, the less awkward and shy he seems to act. no longer as nervous as he was when you first spoke to him.
the cold weather outside is the perfect contrast to the warm cozy bubble around you both that the cafe helped provide. the beginning of many moments to come.
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a/n: hope this okay!! im so used to writing Anakin as the more confident and collected one so this is a little different for me but it was so fun to write 😋😋
also how do we feel about Honey becoming a reoccurring character in my fics and oneshots? would you guys prefer me putting ‘y/f/n’ instead?
anyway hope you all enjoyed reading 🫶🏼🫶🏼 have a great day huns!! Xx<3
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astrolocherry · 6 months ago
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PLUTO IS 0.0 °AQUARIUS NEW YEAR, NEW UNDERWORLD ORDER
Pluto in Aquarius is wicked and wild astrological weather until 2043. Pluto in Aquarius means that the circumstances of life change drastically and unexpectedly. Disturbance from this combination often sets in suddenly. Technological science takes precedence. The challenge will be maintaining the Aquarian expression of humanity. A time of ultimate division socially engineered from the upper escheleons can only be resisted with a spiritual evolution - not a political or ideological revolution. Resist the urges that have been programmed into you, the Aquarius archetype is the ultimate anarchist. This is also dark Aquarius energy manifest in the unconscious underworld. Pluto in Aquarius is the archetypal Mother of Humanity wrestling with the Prince of Darkness. And Hell will hath no fury like this Mother scorned. Artists , composers, and all creative pioneers will be on the brink of the Platform of Heavenly Ideas, capable of capturing glowing, awe-inspiring, spectacular, never before seen visions from the eclipse of our collective unconscious. From commoditised spirituality, the inner unconscious is ready to break free.
KEYWORD ORACLES FOR TRANSITING PLUTO IN AQUARIUS (use rising sign) ♈Aries/Aries Rising: CHANGE YOU NEVER SAW COMING ♉Taurus/Taurus Rising: CARVING THE GENERATIONAL LEGACY ♊Gemini/Gemini Rising: EMERGING FROM GLOOM, FINALLY FULLY ALIVE AND WELL ♋Cancer/Cancer Rising: ULTIMATE REBIRTH, A NEW WORLD IS BORN ♌Leo/Leo Rising: “I AM NO LONGER A VICTIM” ♍Virgo/Virgo Rising: A SOUL IN RECOVERY, ACHIEVING GREAT THINGS ♎Libra/Libra Rising: REBIRTH OF A HEROINE, COMPLETE COMMITTMENT ♏Scorpio/Scorpio Rising: RECEIVING OF MAGICAL & PSYCHIC INHERITANCES ♐Sagittarius/Sagittarius Rising: DISCOVERING WHERE YOU BELONG ♑Capricorn/Capricorn Rising: EXPERIENCING THE PLEASURE & POISONS OF LIFE ♒Aquarius/Aquarius Rising: CASTAWAY, SHE IS RISEN ♓Pisces/Pisces Rising: TRANSITING BETWEEN REALMS
Cherry
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rhaenella · 1 year ago
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LN4 | Challenge Accepted
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pairing: lando norris x non-driver!reader
genre: one shot ✿
summary: it’s been five years since the last chinese gp, so when you and lando are set up to race each other on the shanghai circuit on mclaren’s state of the art simulator, anything is possible…
word count: 5.6k
masterlist
・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・
The sound of feet tapping restlessly against the floor, alternated by the squeaking of a swivel chair spinning round, echoed through the large hall at McLaren HQ. With a sigh, you refreshed your social media—again—but there were no new posts of any kind to keep you occupied. You’d already gone through all of them.
Your boyfriend and F1 driver, Lando Norris, was somewhere in the massive building, filming interviews, challenges and whatnot for the McLaren social media platforms. He had asked if you'd come with him today, mostly because you already saw so little of each other due to his busy schedule. Not that you saw much of each other right now, but at least there wasn’t an ocean between you like there usually was. 
Besides, he’d promised he would wrap up as quickly as he could, and take you out for dinner. So. The wait was worth it. Even though you were bored out of your mind for the foreseeable future.
After walking up and down the hall’s boulevard four times over, admiring all of the beautiful, historical cars on display, you had checked out the trophy wall, which was just as impressive. But since you weren’t allowed access anywhere else inside the building, at least not without a chaperone, there wasn’t much else for you to do or see. That’s how you found yourself in your current situation, spinning around in a chair like an impatient five-year-old, the line of racing cars and the lake outside whooshing by. 
“Y/N?”
The chair came to an abrupt stop. “Yea–yes?” you squinted at the blurry figure in front of you. 
Maybe it hadn’t been such a great idea to spin around so many times that your vestibular system now made it feel like you were on a ship battling a terrible storm. Luckily, once your vision cleared, you recognised the person instantly. It was Lando’s performance engineer, Andrew Jarvis. You’d seen him around race tracks a few times—he was always very friendly and kind to you.
“Jarv! Hi, how are you?”
“I’m good, thanks. What about yourself?”
“Oh, good, good… Enjoying the scenery,” you sneered, waving a hand.
“Right,” he drawled, looking you up and down with an amused smile. “Bored?”
“Yes,” you groaned, sinking a little deeper into the chair. “So. Fucking. Bored.”
Jarv chuckled. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’m afraid Lando is still tied up. I think he and Oscar are filming some kind of… song challenge? I don’t know,” he shrugged with another laugh. “It’s not exactly my area of expertise.”
Your lips quirked up. “Imagine if it was. You could start hiding strategy calls in songs and sing them over the board radio.”
He wavered. “That would be…”
“Genius?”
“Eh, well,” he faltered, his mouth twitching all the same. 
“Right. Maybe not,” you laughed. 
Although, privately you thought it would be a hilarious idea. With a tinge of brilliance, perhaps. But the pinnacle of motorsport would probably be a little too serious to see it your way. 
“I’m obviously not an engineer, or a strategist, or a driver. So, I guess I’ll just stay here,” you sighed, patting the armrests of your new friend, the swivel chair. “And try to excel in exercising patience instead.”
Jarv nodded, his brows furrowing. “Maybe you don’t have to…” 
You eyed him with a suspicious look. “What do you mean?”
He checked his watch and glanced around before looking back to you, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I have an idea. Come with me.”
Jarv had already turned on his heel before you could object, expecting you to blindly follow him to wherever it was he intended to take you. Which you did… without too much thought. Let’s just say boredom got the best of you. Choosing between sitting another god knows how many hours in that chair, or doing something—anything—the choice wasn’t hard. So, you leaped from your seat, sprinting to catch up with him. 
“Wait!” 
He slowed down, and you fell into step beside him. “What’s your idea? Where are you taking me?”
“You’ll see.”
You neared the large double doors at the rear of the boulevard. Jarv pressed his right thumb on a small, glass box on the wall next to them, waiting for his fingerprint to be authorised. The system scanned his print, and the light tinged green. “Welcome, Mr. Jarvis,” a female voice said as the doors automatically opened in front of you.
“Nice.”
Jarv grinned, gesturing for you to precede him into the restricted wing of McLaren HQ. The part that the general public never got to see. You gazed around in amazement. You knew it was a large building, but it was more like a maze back here, and you quickly lost all sense of direction.
“I should probably text Lando, he’s gonna wonder where I’ve disappeared to.”
“Don’t worry, Lando is heading where we’re going, too.”
You relaxed a little at that, however your curiosity didn’t subside as you trailed after Jarv throughout the many long corridors. Where the hell were you going?
The behind the scenes looked arguably even more impressive than all the trophies and race-winning cars that were being flaunted in the entrance hall. You passed countless offices, labs, and workshops where employees were working on top-secret updates for the MCL38, or perhaps even next year’s car. And although Jarv kept up a good pace, you were still able to sneak a few glimpses here and there, thanks to all the glass walls. Most of the technology looked so futuristic, you felt like you had accidentally stepped onto the set of a sci-fi film.
Jarv made a sharp right turn down another hallway. This one only had one door at the end, and it wasn’t made out of glass like the rest of them, which prevented you from being able to see what was behind it. 
You read the sign next to the door, which only added to the mystery. 
Strictly No Admittance. Authorised Personnel Only.
“This is it,” Jarv said, retrieving a key to unlock the door, opening it wide. 
Well, there was your authorisation.
You stepped into the mysterious, dimly lit room, your eyes gradually widening with awe. 
The room was roughly twelve by twelve metres, and in the centre stood two professionally altered Formula 1 cars, both with their own 180-degree widescreens set up in a semicircle around them. The back wall was lined with large computer screens, a row of chairs stationed in front of them, which gave you the feeling you were looking at a small-scale pitwall. 
Holy… beep.
Speaking of futuristic tech, this was way up there.
“Welcome to the McLaren simulation room.”
You whirled around to face Jarv, beaming. “This is incredible. I’ve never seen a sim like this before.”
It was true. Sure, Lando had his own simulator at home in Monaco. But it was nothing compared to this piece of craftsmanship.
Jarv hummed, smiling as he walked to the faux-pitwall. “So. You ready to try it out?”
You blinked. “Ready to–wait a minute… what?”
You stared at Jarv as he turned on the computers, pressing buttons here and there that made the right car hum to life. Next, the widescreen around the car powered up as well, causing a wave of light to brighten the otherwise dark room.
“Jarv?”
He opened a cabinet, retrieving a steering wheel before he walked to the simulator. “Come on, don’t tell me you don’t want to.”
“That’s not it,” you trailed off. 
“Good,” he said, turning around, looking at you expectantly. “So get in, then.”
“But… what about Lando? You said he was on his way over here. Don’t they need the room?”
“They will be here to film something in,” Jarv checked his watch again. “In a little over an hour. Until then, the room is empty, and we can use it. I presume you’ve driven a simulator before?”
“Yeah, I have… but don’t I need some kind of special clearance to use one of these?” One of these super expensive, highly accurate simulators that are solely used to train drivers and prepare the real cars and their setups for race weekends. Whatever could go wrong?
“Y/N, don’t worry about it. I’m Lando’s performance engineer. I’m one of the few that gets to decide who uses the sim.”
You shifted your weight, still unsure. “I’m not gonna be any good at it.”
“That doesn’t matter. What matters is that you have fun, or would you rather return to the waiting area?”
“No.”
Jarv’s smile widened, and he gestured to the sim, inviting you to take a seat.
You hesitantly walked up to the car, twisting your rings, a nervous habit of yours. You’d tried the simulator at Lando’s before, and like you’d already pointed out to Jarv, you weren’t any good at it. Lando had tried to talk you through it, telling you where to break and lift, but it was painfully clear you weren’t cut out to be a driver. 
And now you had to drive in McLaren’s state of the art simulator, under the watchful eye of Lando’s performance engineer. The pressure was real. You didn’t want to make a complete fool out of yourself.
After you’d managed to, somewhat awkwardly, settle yourself in the sim’s seat, Jarv locked the steering wheel into place. It was familiar to you as it looked exactly like the one on Lando’s car, just like everything else on this sim. Except that it didn’t have a front or back wing, or any tyres.
“Alright, before you start driving, it’s important to know the ins and outs of the track you’re racing at. Which in this case will be Shanghai, the location of next weekend’s race,” Jarv said, pressing a few buttons. 
The layout of the track popped up on the screen in front of you, with a sea of information and data appearing on the sides. 
“Don’t worry about the data. We’ll stick to the basics that are of importance to you as a driver. Ready?”
You nodded.
“Good. So, the Shanghai International Circuit has sixteen corners, two DRS-zones on the main straights; one in sector three, and the other on start-finish…”
***
“I don’t know, I feel like maybe I should pursue a musical career,” Lando joked as he and Oscar followed Marion, the head of McLaren’s PR team, down the building’s corridors. 
They had just finished filming another challenge for YouTube. Or Instagram. Or both. Lando didn’t really care about the specifics. It was just another part of his job. Something he’d rather be done with soon, so he could go back to his girl.
Oscar snorted. “Yes, I’m sure you’ll be a Grammy-nominated artist in no time.”
Lando grinned, agreeing with a nod. 
“Alright, lads. One more, and then you’re free to go,” Marion called over her shoulder. 
It was absolute music to Lando’s ears.
“What is it that we have to do?” Oscar asked.
“You’ll be racing each other on the sim, just for a couple of laps, around the Shanghai circuit.”
“I thought we were gonna train on the sim in the morning,” Lando said.
Marion nodded. “You will. This is only a short challenge for a video ahead of the Chinese Grand Prix. Because we haven’t raced there in so long, we thought it’d be fun to film your initial reaction to the track driving the MCL38.”
He and Oscar shared a look. They were always down for a race. There was no question about it.
The click-clacking of Marion’s heels bounced around the hallway as the group made their way to the simulation room. When they arrived, Will, Lando’s race engineer, and a camera and sound crew were waiting for them by the door.
“Why are you all out here? You should be setting up the cameras,” Marion scolded, looking at the men expectantly, waiting for an explanation.
But the men ignored her, instead they all looked to Lando, grinning. He frowned, not at all understanding the meaning behind the knowing looks they were sending him. What was up with them?
“Someone beat us to the sim, I’m afraid,” Will explained, his eyes still on Lando.
Marion turned to Lando as well, equally confused. “What does that mean?”
Lando met her eye and shrugged. “Hell if I know.”
As if on cue, a high pitched scream came from the simulation room, followed by a distinct, “That’s more like it!”
Will and the crew chuckled, but Marion wasn’t having it. “What on earth is going on,” she bristled, pushing past them to enter the room.
Lando followed her, but he couldn’t have been less prepared for the scene they stumbled upon next. 
Occupying one of the simulators was his girlfriend, and right next to you stood Jarv, who was closely monitoring your driving, giving you short and precise instructions. You were going down the straight at full throttle, following Jarv’s pointers as you breaked and hit the curb perfectly for a smooth exit.
What the hell? 
He’d thought you were still waiting for him in the entrance hall on the other side of the building. Never in a million years had he expected to find you here, racing on McLaren’s simulator, looking like you actually knew what you were doing no less. 
So that’s why all the guys had been smirking at him…
“What do we have here?”
You jumped at Lando’s voice, immediately causing the car to spin and crash during your momentary lapse of concentration. 
“Fuck! I was on a flying lap…”
“And a bloody good one at that,” Jarv added, proud.
Lando’s eyebrows shot up. “You were what?” His eyes flicked from you to Jarv, to you, and then back to Jarv. “Mate?”
Before Jarv could utter a word, you turned to face your boyfriend with a wide smile. “Baby, guess what?! I’m not a complete loser at this!”
“I–I’m so proud of you… but,” Lando shook his head, still not understanding any of this. “Why are you two in here?”
You grabbed onto the halo and pulled yourself out of the car to face him. “Jarv came to see how I was doing, and since I had nothing better to do, he suggested I’d give this a try,” you explained, gesturing to the sim.
“Oh, I see,” Lando smiled. 
Yet he struggled to swallow the bitter taste at seeing you spending time and having fun with Jarv. All the while he had been stuck ‘working’. Not that he blamed you for it. He was the one who left you all by yourself for so long. But still… 
“Uhm, but now that you’re all here,” you said, a bit sheepish, your eyes scanning the gathering crowd. “I’ll uhm, I’ll leave you to it.”
“Very well,” Marion called, but she was quickly interrupted.
“No, no, no, no. Wait a second. I need to know something first,” Will spoke, stepping forward. “Jarv, we need your professional assessment, man. How did she do?”
Marion sighed, tapping her phone to check the time, which only made her look more impatient. Lando ignored her, his eyes sliding from you to his performance engineer, curious as well. 
“Y/N did great. She struggled a little at first, but the more laps she did, the better she got,” Jarv beamed. He turned to face Lando. “You know, I reckon she’d even have a good chance at beating you.”
Lando studied him. “You’re joking.”
“No, I’m being serious, mate. I’d wager good money on it.”
Marion’s annoyance evaporated within an instant, her eyes lighting up. “Oh gosh, that is a perfect idea, Jarvis.”
“What is? Gambling?” 
“No,” she huffed. “I mean, instead of Lando against Oscar, we can have these two lovebirds race each other on the sim instead!”
“What?” you and Lando cried in unison.
Everyone looked at you, and your cheeks tinged a soft pink. You weren’t used to all the attention, usually preferring to keep a lower profile. Well, as much as that was possible dating a Formula 1 driver.
“Guys, I’m flattered. Truly, I am. But I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes. I know you’re all here to do a job, and that job doesn’t include me…”
“That’s right,” Lando agreed. He shot you a brief smile before addressing Marion. “Besides, she doesn’t like to be the centre of attention, and I don’t want her to embarrass herself in front of the eyes of millions.”
Something stirred inside you. “What does that mean? You don’t think I can beat you?”
“Well, sweetheart…”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” you mumbled, your eyes narrowing. 
Under other circumstances, you would have agreed with him. But this last hour and a half with Jarv had boosted your confidence. It had gone really well, exceeding both of your expectations on your sim racing capabilities by miles. And maybe, some part of you, just wanted to show him that.
Like Lando, you never shied away from competition. Not if you had a chance at winning. You weren’t a hundred percent sure if you did right now. But you couldn’t deny you weren’t more than a little curious to find out. And seeing as Lando had just called you out in front of everyone, the only logical thing to do was rise to the challenge.
“You know what? I’m in.”
With that, you climbed back into the snug seat, forcing the thought of having everyone’s eyes on you to the back of your mind. 
Lando’s eyes widened. “What?” 
“Wonderful,” Marion exclaimed. “Let’s roll, people.”
Lando watched as everybody around him immediately jumped into action, including the camera and sound guys who got ready to put it all on film. Jarv grinned and grabbed his tablet, giving a slight nod to Will, who nodded in return and went to start up the second simulator and retrieve a steering wheel for Lando.
“I’ll be assisting Y/N, and just like with a normal race, Will can be Lando’s engineer,” Jarv said.
“Yep,” Will said, holding up the steering wheel as he walked to the other sim. “We’re good to go.”
“We are too!” one of the crewmen announced.
Marion smiled, but it faded when she noticed Lando still standing by the door, not having moved an inch. “What are you waiting for? Get in the car,” she said.
She started pushing Lando in the direction of the other sim, but he stood his ground. 
“Hold on. We can’t do this.”
“What? Why not?”
“Yeah, why not?”
Lando sighed. “You know why.” 
Did they? Did he? 
Lando loved to race, and he certainly loved you. So what was stopping him from combining the two? 
He wasn’t scared of losing—he never has been, and never would. Not that there was any real chance that you, an inexperienced ‘driver’, could beat him today. There was simply no way. 
He’d seen you try the sim at his house, and despite his best efforts, you were, for lack of a better term, absolute rubbish. But then again, Jarv had seemed so sure of himself. That man didn’t lie or exaggerate. He would give it to you straight if you underperformed or weren’t any good. Lando had always admired and respected that. 
So, had Jarv been able to unearth some sort of racing talent that was buried deep inside of you? Something that Lando himself hadn’t managed to uncover…
Was that why he hesitated going up against you? His sense of pride?
Lando groaned internally. If anything, that should make him that much more adamant to race you.
He looked over to see you were already staring at him, ambition burning bright in your eyes. Ambition to beat him. At the thing he did best… It was alluring, and Lando felt his own competitiveness flare. 
“No, we don’t. Honestly, what’s stopping you?”
“It’s only five laps. It’ll be a piece of cake for you, Norris.”
“Unless that’s the problem,” Jarv joked. “Maybe he needs to warm up and familiarise himself with the track first…”
“I think all of you are forgetting that I’m the only one here who actually raced in Shanghai,” Lando shot back, unconsciously taking a step towards the sim.
“And how did that work out for you, mate?” Oscar chimed in.
Lando glared at him and Oscar struggled to contain his laughter. 
“Even better,” you exclaimed, reclaiming your boyfriend’s attention. “You have on track experience and I’ve had a little time to prepare with Jarv. That’s fair enough, right?”
“Y/N… are you sure you want to…” 
He was so close to giving in. He knew it, you knew it, probably everyone did. Besides, you had one more trick up your sleeve. One that would surely make his competitive side overshadow any lingering doubts, and get him to race you in that other sim.
“When have you ever walked away from a race? Hm? Unless you’re scared you’ll lose…”
That struck the intended chord. 
Oh, she didn’t, Lando thought. 
You gave him your most innocent looking smile, but he knew damn well what you were doing. He shook himself. Fine. If you wanted to race him so badly, he would give it to you. And no way in hell would he still consider going easy on you.
Lando promptly made his way to the other car and slid into the seat with practised ease. He signalled Will, who handed him the steering wheel. He clicked it into place before glancing to his right, smiling dangerously. “Alright, you’re on, darling. Challenge accepted.”
At that, Jarv entered a bunch of commands on his tablet, which was connected to the simulator’s system, to set the race parameters. Two cars appeared on the screens, each from their own driver’s point of view, already in position to start racing at Shanghai’s International Circuit.
“As you can see, Lando will start on the right and Y/N will start on the left,” Jarv informed.
“Whoa, wait a minute,” Lando sputtered. “Why are you starting from pole and not me?”
“Because I clocked the fastest lap time.”
“You clocked the only lap time.”
You shrugged, smiling. “Take it up with race control, baby.”
“Don’t worry,” Will reassured, looking at his own tablet as he scrolled through the accumulated data from your runs. “Break late, and you can easily overtake her in the first corner.”
Lando nodded, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel as the digital green flag was waved.
Jarv leaned in to whisper in your ear: “No, he won’t. Just remember what I taught you.”
“Aye, aye,” you said, focusing on the lights.
The cameras were all set and rolling, and Marion looked around, relishing the unexpected turn of events. This would be an enormous hit online, for sure. Her eyes landed on Oscar who stood to the back, watching the couple with an amused glint in his eye. If only she could involve him as well somehow… that would make it even better.
“Oscar, why don’t you take on the role of commentator?” Marion suggested, her tone indicating that he didn’t have much of a choice. 
Oscar startled. “Oh. Uhm. Yeah, sure.”
He moved to stand in between the two simulators, clearing his throat. “Right. Uhm. Welcome to the Shanghai International Circuit for the 2024 Chinese Grand Prix… It’s Sunday, April 21st—well, not really but let’s go with it—uhm, and we’ll soon start racing–”
“You’re a lousy commentator, Piastri,” Lando interrupted.
Oscar rolled his eyes. “How about you worry about yourself, Norris.”
Lando snickered, but he quickly sobered when the first light gleamed red. Then the second, the third, the fourth, the fifth, and…
“It’s lights out and away we go!”
You got away quick, but Lando was faster, years of experience siding with him.
“Lando dives into the first corner, ahead of Y/N. Can she cross back? No, no she cannot. Ah, bummer…” Oscar narrated. “She’s right behind him, though, going into turn 3. Lando nearly missing the apex there, but he recovers well. OH! Oh, never mind. Lando goes wide in turn 6! Yeah, he’s familiar with that one.”
“Shut up,” Lando snapped.
“I didn’t think so, mate,” Oscar grinned, settling into his new character nicely. 
“Y/N is back on his heels as they go down sector two. DRS is not yet enabled, but she is only six tenths behind! Will Y/N be able to overtake Norris without DRS on the straight? She’s getting closer… they’re racing each other into turn 14, and… OH Y/N, massive lock-up! She manages to keep the car on track. Excellent save! But that’s gonna cost her some valuable time.”
You crossed start-finish, eyeing the time as you entered lap two.
Oscar’s voice boomed loud. “DRS enabled! But Y/N is too far–”
“Just 1.2 seconds behind, you can still do this,” Jarv encouraged. “Line-up on the left and take the first corner on the inside. Yeah, like that. Good.”
On the other side of the room, Will was giving Lando similar instructions. It had, after all, been a while since Lando had last raced this track. During his rookie year, no less. Therefore it was currently taking him quite a bit of effort to find the correct race line, especially with the many difficult corners and hairpins around the track. 
“Steady on,” Will said. “Y/N is out of DRS. Let’s keep it that way.”
The couple sped down the track on their simulators, and even though most of your focus was spent on driving and listening to Jarv’s notes, you also marvelled at the accuracy and realism of the sim. From the sensations of the literal car you were seated in, down to the gravel Lando’s little off-track adventure had caused to spread in and around turn 6. Whatever the outcome of the race, this experience would certainly beat waiting around and lounging in that swivel chair.
“Great exit from Norris who is absolutely flying down the straight in sector three, followed by Y/N at 1.4 seconds. Still doing a phenomenal job so far!” Oscar continued, his eyes glued to the screen. “Approaching turn 14, can Y/N manage the hairpin this time? What?! Oh, no! It’s Lando that locks up this time… Oiiioii, mighty turn 14 proves to be too much for both of our star drivers.”
Jarv kept a close eye on the interval time, and thanks to Lando’s mistake, the gap had already shrunk to 1.1 seconds. “Okay, now use the extra power from the ERS to get closer,” he instructed.
You did as you were told, pressing the correct button on the steering wheel, which gave you an extra boost to get even closer to Lando.
“Y/N gaining on Norris! And she’s now back within DRS at 0.9 seconds. Whoa, what a truly remarkable performance by someone who has never driven a race car or a sim like this before! I’d vote for her as driver of the day…”
“No one asked your opinion,” Lando cut off, sounding a little strained.
“Whatever,” Oscar shrugged, unbothered. “Lando Grumpy-Ass Norris struggles to maintain the gap between him and his girlfriend, hitting the curb a little enthusiastically right there. Oh, Y/N faces the same issues! It’s all about keeping the focus now, ladies and gents. Will Y/N be able to close the gap? Will she be able to attack Norris?”
Marion stood behind the cameras, watching gleefully how you and Lando raced each other around the virtual Shanghai circuit. Oh, you were even better than she could have ever anticipated. Better than anyone in the room could have ever anticipated, really. The whole crew was watching the race with baited breath. 
You were almost equally matched. With you, a real diamond in the rough, having received some training beforehand, and Lando, an experienced driver, essentially going in blind—it was a golden match.
Were you going to be able to do the unthinkable?
“We’re going into the penultimate lap, and even with Lando strategically using his batteries, Y/N has managed to close the gap to 0.7 with DRS. And there she is also clocking the fastest lap. Wow!”
“You can win a little bit of extra time in sector two,” Will analysed. “Turns 9 and 12 are crucial. You need a good exit.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Lando said. “I know what I’m doing.”
“Does he?” Oscar cut in. “We’ve got track limits for Norris in turn 9! He’s getting desperate now, with Y/N coming for him at 0.6 seconds. Is she going to—yes! She’s attempting to overtake Norris ahead of turn 11 but… fails… Oh, that was a bold move by Y/N! She lost a bit of time with that one, but she’s still within DRS range and knows she will be able to get close again for another attack.”
Your knuckles were turning white from how tight you were gripping the steering wheel. You couldn’t make a mistake, not now. You were so close… On the other sim, Lando was in a similar state. Although he was clenching his jaw in concentration instead. It was becoming more and more difficult to keep you behind him.
“Final lap,” Oscar announced. “And Norris crosses the white lines again! Turn 3 this time. Yep, there it is. Second track limits for Norris. He is feeling the heat, and not the good kind.”
Jarv’s mouth twitched. “It’s been five years since Lando raced here, let’s use it to our advantage,” he spoke to you in a hushed tone.
You nodded, your eyes never wavering from the screen in front of you.
Jarv checked the data, both yours and Lando’s, then leaned in. “Okay, here’s what you’ll do: instead of following the race line at–”
Will was closely observing you and Jarv from the other side of the room, but he couldn’t make out what Jarv was saying over the sounds of the simulators’ engines and Oscar still commentating to his heart’s content. He looked down at his driver, who was fully focused on the task before him.
“And then use the charged batteries after exiting turn 13. I know Lando’s defending tactics, this should work. He won’t see it coming,” Jarv finished. 
You simply nodded again, trusting your engineer’s judgement. You would give it your all to try and execute his strategy as best you could.
“As we’re nearing the chequered flag, all bets are off. Lando is fighting for his position with everything he has, but Y/N is not ready to call it quits just yet!” 
Your heart rate was off the charts, but you managed to stay calm, hitting the apexes, the metres between you and Lando’s car in front dwindling with each passing second.
“0.5 seconds, 0.4 seconds…”
“Flat out, Y/N. Let’s go,” Jarv said, his own heart rate ticking up.
“She’s chasing him, with DRS… There she comes. There she comes… round the inside! Y/N overtakes Norris!” Oscar roared. “Diving into the infamous turn 14… and… and she makes it! Hell yeah! What a mega move from Y/N! Now into the final corner. Can she stay ahead of Norris? Can she…? Yes!! Yes, she can!”
You passed the chequered flag, your mouth falling open in shock.
“Y/N wins the Chinese Grand Prix!”
“OH MY GOD!!”
Jarv's laugh pierced the room. “Get in! I told you!”
He managed to stop himself just in time before he started jumping up and down like an overly excited little boy. You shared his enthusiasm though, unable to control the slight tremor in your hands at seeing your name next to the word WINNER displayed boldly on the screen in front of you. 
Holy fuck, you did it. You actually did it.
Lando sank low in his seat. “How the hell…”
Will patted him on the shoulder, consoling. “You did your best mate.”
“Clearly it wasn’t enough,” he grumbled.
Will glanced at their celebrating opponents, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Get your mind out of the gutter, mate, and look on the bright side.”
“Which is?”
“Your girlfriend just showed you the perfect overtake manoeuvre for Sunday.”
“Ha-ha, very funny…”
Although, you really did. 
Lando turned to see Jarv help you out of the simulator, still grinning from ear to ear. You were reeling, the adrenaline of the fight and win coursing through your veins. Suddenly you understood what it must feel like to come out of a real F1 car, and to stand on the podium, basking in that feeling of winning a race.
As soon as you were out, Jarv high-fived you. “Solid race. That’s some potential, that is.”
Oscar came up next. “Awesome job, Y/N. Seriously. Great overtake at the end there. Perhaps you’ll be my future teammate,” he winked.
You giggled. “Thanks, guys!”
Even Will smiled at you, giving you a thumbs up as you walked over to Lando who was still seated in the other sim, sulking.
“Oh, come on,” you pouted, reaching out your hand, a peace offering. “That was fun, wasn’t it?”
“Sure thing, it was,” he muttered, but he accepted your hand anyway before jumping out of the car. 
When he stood in front of you, he took a moment to look you up and down, a smile slowly creeping onto his face. His ego may have taken quite the blow today, but there was no denying he was also extremely proud of you. Jarv had been right after all, and Lando was happy he hadn’t taken the engineer up on his bet.
He shook his head as if he still couldn’t believe it. “Well, aren’t you full of surprises?”
You shrugged, smiling. “Need to keep things fresh and exciting, don’t I? Otherwise you’ll tire of me in no time.”
“Never,” Lando scoffed, wrapping his arm around your waist and giving your lips a soft peck. “However, as much as I’m proud of you… this footage will never see the light of day.” 
You laughed, your eyes locking with Marion.
She sent you a wink. “We’ll see about that.”
***
a/n: thank you for reading <3 feedback is adored. 
by the way, should i make a taglist for future f1 fics? is that something you’d be interested in? or perhaps for specific drivers? let me know!
also posted on ao3
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mapsthewanderer · 3 months ago
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The Maze
Synopsis: In a future where war and technology have blurred the line between man and machine, Caleb was resurrected—not as who he was, but as who he was programmed to be. With only 3% of his original self left intact, the latest reboot of his chip has reshaped his logic, his purpose, and his understanding of his emotions towards you.
Bound by his own design, he has built you the Maze—a flawless, shifting sanctuary meant to protect the one person he refuses to lose. But protection and captivity are two sides of the same coin, and inside the Maze, freedom is just another unsolvable puzzle.
Will you escape, or will Stockholm Syndrome take hold before that day?
Details: 2300ish words. Some kind of spin off AU, but corresponds with in-game canons. Obsessive Caleb. Yandere Caleb. Controlling Caleb. Colonel Caleb. Crazy hot Caleb. 18+ due to psychological thriller/drama/angst galore (and a prelude for p0rn with plot, I’m just calling it now tbh lol). You are warned. Heavy kissing. Angst, love and lust.
Chapters: chapter one, chapter three, chapter four, chapter five, chapter six, chapter seven, chapter eight (final chapter)
Tags: @gavin3469 @mcdepressed290
Obstacles | Chapter two
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The Maze, obstacle course, you
You stretch your arms over your head, feeling the pull of your muscles, the slight pop in your shoulders as your spine straightens. The synthetic track beneath your feet is firm yet springy, engineered to absorb impact and propel movement. A faint haze of warmth lingers in the air, artificial sunlight streaming in from panels above, casting a glow over the sleek, towering obstacles ahead.
You weren’t obligated to do this.
The obstacle course was optional, designed for physical and mental enhancement. Caleb had insisted it was meant to keep you sharp, capable. You could have refused. Could have spent the morning pacing your room, pressing your forehead against the glass, carving another tally into your headboard.
But there were only so many ways to kill time in a cage.
At least this gave you something to do.
At least this kept you moving.
Caleb had woken you up in person today.
It had thrown you off balance—the way he leaned down, his fingers brushing against your temple before he pressed a slow, deliberate kiss to your forehead.
“Up for a morning workout, Pips?”
His voice had been smooth, teasing, warm in a way that felt too familiar.
You had barely muttered a response, still heavy with sleep, and he had laughed.
But then—something came up. Fleet business.
Now, instead of running beside him, you were stuck with his voice crackling through the intercom.
“Don’t pout too much, Pips.” His voice is warm, threaded with amusement. “I did promise to watch closely, didn’t I? And look at you, so eager to run—should I be worried? I might be training you straight into an escape attempt.”
You roll your eyes, shifting your stance, adjusting the fit of your training gear—lightweight, breathable, the fabric stretching effortlessly with your movements.
“Yeah, yeah. If you’re getting nervous, feel free to let me win for once.”
“Oh, you were winning? I must’ve missed that part.”
The voice crackles through the intercom, laced with unmistakable amusement. There’s no need for eye contact to feel the weight of the challenge—it’s there in the deliberate pause before the words land, in the way the speaker’s tone tilts just slightly, teasing but edged with something sharper. A low hum of static lingers, like the last breath of a smirk that refuses to be seen but demands to be felt. Even from a distance, even without a face to match the voice, the message is clear: this isn’t just a battle—it’s a game, and Caleb’s daring you to play harder.
You exhale slowly, centering yourself. The air smells faintly of synthetic grass and heated rubber, the artificial breeze cool against the back of your neck.
The course ahead is a beast of a thing. A complex structure of towering walls, shifting platforms, narrow beams, and high-speed hurdles.
And at the end—the vertical climb.
No footholds. No obvious way up. Just a sheer surface that will demand every ounce of strength and focus.
“Alright, Pip-squeak. First section should be easy enough, even for you. Just a few hurdles—try not to trip over your own feet this time, yeah?”
You don’t answer.
You just move.
Your feet hit the ground in quick, rhythmic strides, the controlled force of each step echoing in the open space. The first hurdle approaches fast—your muscles tighten, breath sharp as you spring forward.
You clear it easily.
Then the next.
Then the next.
By the time you clear the fourth, Caleb whistles low through the speakers.
“Would you look at that? Almost like you’ve done this before.”
You huff, rolling forward into the next section.
The second phase demands precision. A suspended grid of hanging rings, swaying slightly from the motion sensors embedded in the walls.
You leap, fingers catching the first metal ring. The cold steel bites into your palm, the impact reverberating through your shoulders.
Swing.
Once.
Twice.
Release—catch.
Your breath stays measured, controlled, arms straining as you propel yourself forward.
“Good form,” Caleb muses, his voice a steady hum in your ear. “Should I be concerned about how quickly you’re adapting? What if you actually try to leave me, Pips?”
Your fingers tighten on the next ring.
“Then you’ll just have to catch me, won’t you?”
Silence.
Just a beat.
Then—
“I always do.”
You don’t let yourself linger on that.
The next challenge demands balance.
A narrow beam suspended above an artificial water pit, mist curling lazily along its surface.
The air feels thicker here, damp with humidity, the sound of faintly trickling water echoing against the walls. You shift your weight carefully, adjusting your center of gravity as you step forward, bare skin brushing against the cool metal of the beam.
Breathe.
Step.
Step.
Step.
“You know, you’ve gotten good at this. Maybe I should make it harder.”
You scoff, adjusting your footing as you near the end. “Oh, what, you’re not entertained enough?”
“Always entertained by you.”
Something in your chest tightens.
You ignore it.
The final stretch is the hardest. The vertical climb. It looms ahead—a sheer, impossibly smooth surface.
The only way up? The hidden grips embedded within the wall, triggered only by the correct sequence.
Caleb’s voice is lighter now, almost pleased. “Last one, Pips. Think you’ll impress me?”
You exhale, rolling your shoulders.
Then—you run.
Your muscles coil, tighten—
You leap.
Fingers catch the first grip, muscles screaming as you haul yourself up. The second grip activates beneath your palm, lighting up for just a second before fading again.
The strain burns.
Your breath is sharper now, every inhale pulling tight against your ribs.
Higher.
Just a little higher.
Then—
Your foot slips.
A sharp gasp tears from your throat.
Your fingers scramble—desperate, grasping—
And miss.
The world tilts violently.
Your stomach plummets as gravity rips you down.
The impact doesn’t come.
Not yet.
“Shit—!”
Caleb’s voice cracks through the speakers—urgent, raw, all teasing gone.
“I’m coming—”
Then—
Silence.
——————————————————————————
The Fleet, Administrative Wing, Caleb
Caleb slam his hands against the desk, pushing himself up so fast that the chair scrapes against the polished floor, nearly toppling over. His breath sharpens, too shallow, too fast—his body reacting before his mind fully processes.
Every calculation, every emergency override, every subconscious thread of what is left of him is running at full capacity.
Error.//// Unknown variable detected.//// Immediate action required.////
The static in his earpiece hums, then goes silent.
No new sound.
No movement.
No voice.
No you.
A violent pulse slams through his chest. His fingers flex, tightening into fists before releasing—repeating, repeating—because something inside him is trying to override, trying to force calm.
It’s not working.
His voice is smooth, authoritative, clipped to perfection when he turns toward the nearest officer.
“I’m unavailable for the rest of the day. Do not contact me unless we are under direct attack.”
The officer barely nods before Caleb is already moving.
Not walking.
Running.
By the time he steps out of the office building, his breath is uneven, his heart hammering in a way that is entirely foreign to him.
The cool air hits his face, but it doesn’t soothe the heat rising beneath his skin.
His boots strike the ground too hard, too fast. His movements—normally precise, efficient—are bordering on reckless.
The Maze is too far.
The seconds are too long.
And for the first time in a long time, Caleb isn’t calculating anything at all.
He’s just running.
——————————————————————————
The Maze, obstacle course, you
The world tilts violently.
Your stomach lurches, weightless for a sickening heartbeat before gravity rips you down.
Wind roars past your ears, your limbs flailing instinctively, desperately, reaching for something, anything—but there’s nothing.
For a split second, your mind processes too slowly.
The sheer drop. The smooth, pitiless ground below. The inevitability.
Then—
Impact.
It feels like your bones rattle inside your body. Your shoulder slams first, force rippling through your ribs, pain detonating like an explosion beneath your skin.
Your head snaps back against the unforgiving surface, a white-hot crack bursting behind your eyes.
The world spins, flickers, darkens.
A dull, startled sound slips from your lips.
“…Ouch.”
Then—blackness.
——————————————————————————
The Maze, obstacle course, Caleb
By the time he bursts through the entrance of the Maze, his breath is uneven, his heart slamming so violently it feels like a malfunction.
His vision narrows, focuses—searching, searching, searching—
Then—
His breath stalls.
You are crumpled at the base of the climbing obstacle.
Motionless.
Too still. Too silent.
Something inside him fractures. The noise that rips from his throat is raw, sharp, barely human.
“Shit—Pip-squeak—”
Caleb’s on his knees beside you before he even realizes he moved. His hands hover—trembling, unsure, fucking terrified.
He’s scared to touch you. You look fragile like this.
He leans in listening. Your breathing is shallow, too faint. Blood—there’s blood. A thin, slow trickle near your temple, trailing into your hair.
His own breath hitches—breaks. Caleb rips off his gloves, throws them aside, because they’re useless, they’re too thick, he needs to feel you. His bare fingers graze your cheek, feather-light.
Too cold.
You’re too cold.
The pressure in his chest doubles, triples, crushes. His forehead presses against yours, his breath shaky as he swallows against the fear crawling up his throat.
“Come on, Pips. Stay with me, okay?”
He brushes his thumb over your cheekbone, barely a touch. Caleb’s body isn’t working right. His hands aren’t steady.
Something in his vision blurs.
No.
Not now.
Not you.
He never gets desperate.
Never.
But his voice is desperate now. “You always fight me, Pips. So fight me now, alright? Just—just open your eyes, give me some shit about how this is my fault, I don’t care—”
Then—your eyelids flutter and a ragged, strangled sound falls from Caleb’s lips.
—————————————————————————
The Maze, somewhere, you
The first thing you see is frantic violet.
Caleb’s eyes—wide, wild, unguarded.
He’s so close, bracing over you, hands framing your face like you’ll disappear if he lets go.
You try to speak, but your tongue is heavy, your thoughts fogged.
“I… think I should be unconscious.” Your voice is thin, barely there.
Caleb chokes on a laugh—
“Yeah, well, you might get your wish, Pips—”
Then—blackness again.
——————————————————————————
Warmth.
Soft sheets. The faint scent of linen, antiseptic, and something achingly familiar.
You hurt. A bruising soreness that weighs you down like lead. Your ribs—your torso—you don’t even want to think about it. The pain lingers, dull and distant, as if your body is holding back the worst of it.
Yet in that dulled pain there is a constant. A light tapping against your hand. Deliberate. Repetitive. At first, it barely registers, just a soft pressure against your skin. But then—the pattern.
.. / .-.. --- ...- . / -.-- --- ..- .. .----. -- / ... --- .-. .-. -.--
.. .----. -- / ... --- .-. .-. -.--.. / .-.. --- ...- . / -.-- --- ..-
I’m sorry. I love you. I’m sorry. I love you.
I’m sorry. I love you. I’m sorry. I love you.
Even before you fully comprehend it, your fingers move on instinct. A weak, feeble tap in response.
-.-. .- .-.. . -… / -.. ..- – – -.–
Caleb dummy
The tapping stops.
Then, a squeeze—gentle, hesitant, like he’s not sure if he imagined something.
You shift, just barely, and Caleb’s grip tightens. Not rough. Just firm. Just desperate.
His breath stutters. A sharp, shuddering gasp. The sound of air being sucked in like a drowning man breaking the surface.
“Pip-squeak—”
You blink, vision adjusting. And for a second, you don’t recognize him. Because this isn’t the Caleb you know now. This isn’t the Maze’s warden.
This is the boy you lost.
His hair is a mess, strands sticking to his forehead, like he’s run his hands through it too many times. His jaw is clenched too tight, his violet eyes rimmed red, glossy with something too human.
And yet—he’s still beautiful.
Even like this. Especially like this.
He leans in, so careful, as if he’s scared to break you. Fingers brush over your hair, soft and slow.
“Don’t do that again.” His voice is wrecked.
A plea, not a command.
You don’t know who he is right now. But you know one thing—
This is the Caleb you remember.
The one you lost.
And that destroys you.
The ache that’s been festering inside you since his reboot—longing, grief, frustration, something darker, something deeper—it all snaps at once.
You grab him.
Fingers buried in his hair, nails scratching lightly at his scalp, pulling him toward you. His body locks up, every muscle tensing, his breath shuddering as your grip tightens.
He doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe.
Then—your lips crash against his.
It’s weak at first—but it’s not hesitant. It’s needy, desperate, raw.
Caleb shudders. A sharp inhale, a ragged noise that sounds almost pained as his fingers flex against the sheets.
Then—he breaks.
His hands snap up, one cradling your jaw, the other gripping the back of your neck, tilting your head so he can devour you properly.
And devour you, he does.
The moment he kisses you back, it’s not careful.
It’s hungry.
His lips crush against yours, parting just enough for his breath to mix with yours, his tongue sliding against the seam of your lips like he needs more. Caleb’s body presses closer, nearly crawling onto the bed, caging you in with his warmth. His grip is firm but reverent, like he’s afraid to hurt you but more afraid to stop.
A low, almost desperate groan rumbles in his throat, vibrating against your lips.
Your chest tightens, breath catching, every nerve lighting up under his touch.
Then—he pulls back, just an inch.
His lips hover over yours, his breath ragged, uneven. His violet eyes—heavy, dilated, starving—lock onto yours.
And then, because he’s still Caleb, even now—
He smirks—
His voice is low, husky, wrecked.
“If I knew concussions made you affectionate, I would’ve dropped you myself.”
You barely have time to laugh—weak, breathless—before he’s on you again.
But this time, it’s different.
This time, he takes.
His mouth crashes onto yours, hotter, deeper, teeth scraping against your lower lip before he soothes it with his tongue. His hand slips under the blanket, fingertips skimming over your waist, tracing the curve of your hip like he’s memorizing it.
Your breath catches—sharp, shaky.
His does, too.
His body is so warm, so solid against yours. His scent—leather, metal, something inherently Caleb—fills your senses, making you dizzier than the concussion ever could.
He kisses you like he’s been waiting for this forever.
Like he’s starved.
Like he’s afraid he’ll never get another chance.
His fingers tighten against you, his breath coming harder now, like he’s barely keeping himself from completely losing it.
You’re both so wrapped up in the heat, the want, the sheer overwhelming intensity of it—
That neither of you notices it happening.
Not until it’s too late.
Not until Caleb’s breath suddenly stutters—
And his whole body seizes.
For a split second, you think he’s just overcome.
That he’s pausing, collecting himself, trying to steady the sharp, frenzied pull between you.
Then—
His whole form locks up.
And then, without warning—
He collapses.
His weight slams forward, forehead crashing into your stomach, body folding over you from the chair beside the bed.
The shock knocks the air from your lungs.
“Caleb—?!”
Nothing.
No response.
His shoulders tremble.
His breathing is wrong—too sharp, too erratic. His fingers spasm weakly against the sheets, grasping at nothing.
Your hand shoots to his hair, pushing his bangs back, fingers threading through the damp strands.
“Caleb.”
Still, no response.
But then—
A whisper.
So soft, so wrecked, barely a breath against your stomach.
”…Don’t go.”
The sound cuts through you like a knife.
This isn’t possessive.
This isn’t commanding.
It’s pleading.
It’s broken.
And just like that—the man who kissed you like he owned you is now crumbling in your lap.
——————————————————————————
Chapter three
——————————————————————————
Writer’s note: That’s the intro done, ya’ll! I’m so excited icl. I love their communication in morse code, the tension, the pull, the emotions~. The next chapters will be longer, so you are hereby warned. Okey then, thank you for reading 🫶🏻
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seat-safety-switch · 3 months ago
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Nothing that humanity has put on this earth is as challenging as the humble bouncy castle. Is it an icon of joyful childhood glee, or a deadly trap waiting to consume the unwary? One thing is for sure: it's cheaper to buy one than to rent it twice. Party planning parents in my periphery participate in a profiteer's piratical paradigm. Every weekend, I see an event-rental truck appear and disgorge a balloon-based fortification. That's money I could be making.
On paper, a bouncy castle is pretty simple. Those of you who fell asleep a lot in physics class: I'm gonna try to make this as straightforward as possible. You've got a bunch of fabric in the shape of a castle. You've got a compressor that fills it full of air. As long as nothing leaks too badly, it turns into a puffy castle. Like blowing up a balloon. Then – don't fall asleep again – you tie it down.
That's right. You have to tie down a bouncy castle, and tie it down really well. Something about the size and the seeming solidity of this thing tells our brains that it's big and heavy and can't easily be moved, but if you think about it even medium-hard, it's basically a parachute that we're farting into. A big wind storm comes through, and that sucker is in orbit. So you want to make sure you tie it down really well. That's where my competitive advantage comes in.
You see, bylaw has been getting angry about my parking habits for the last couple of weeks. And, to be fair, their argument does have its merits. It is very unusual indeed that I have over six hundred cars, most of which are in states of disrepair, littered all over my neighbourhood like kudzu. I imagine that visitors to the community find it hard to park. Hell, I have to find a place for a new car almost every week, and I'm cussing myself out when I have to walk home after parking twenty blocks away, inside a church basement where they forgot to lock the windows.
A car's engine is basically a big air compressor. And a car is very heavy, too. Perhaps you see where this is going. All I had to do was get some old bouncy castles, strap 'em to the roof, and instant party rental. I'll always have a parking space in front of the house of whatever kid is having a birthday this weekend, parents don't have to worry about a three thousand pound counterweight blowing away, bylaw is afraid to interfere with any revenue-generating parking, and I get to collect some tax credits for "carbon capture."
It went really well for a couple weekends. Then those leaks started to show up. Turns out I had a few very poke-y pieces of rust sticking out of the dilapidated cars I was using as a mobile fortress platform. That ripped up the castles real fast, and soon I was spending all my profits on duct tape. That's why they don't have castles anymore, history profs.
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summerwarlock · 3 days ago
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I've released my game! Play it here
It's a short, simple narrative game where you play as the assistant in a retired adventurer's potion store. Massive thanks to everyone who gives it a try, it means a lot!
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This started out as a "make a game in one month" challenge. The intention was to get to grips with a few Unity plugins (mainly Corgi Engine and Dialogue System), I didn't have much of a plan for it aside from that.
It ended up taking three months to finish all the content. Then it sat on my hard drive for over a year while I did other stuff (like draw a lot of BG3 fanart). I finally opened it up again, made a bunch of changes, fixed bugs, added polish, and now here it is. 🥂
I had a blast making this. Now I'm hyped to make another one. Possibly some kind of platformer. Or a totally-not-BG3 dating sim.
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We'll see 👀 thanks for playing!
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