#network engineer interview questions

[pucksandpower]

Wagification

Max Verstappen x analyst!Reader

Summary: your job was slowly crushing your soul and stealing your sanity … until Max showed you the pleasure to be found in letting yourself be cherished and cared for (or in which a chronically overworked Sky Sports analyst becomes a WAG)

Monaco Grand Prix, 2025

You take a deep breath as you step out of the car, the Monaco sunshine bright and warm on your face. Max comes around and takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“You ready for this?” He asks, his eyes searching yours.

You nod, though your stomach is fluttering with nerves. It’s been nearly a year since you were last at a Grand Prix, and so much has changed. You glance down at the massive diamond on your left hand, still not quite used to seeing it there.

Max kisses your temple. “Don’t worry, I’ll be right by your side the whole time.”

Hand-in-hand, you make your way into the paddock. Immediately you’re assaulted by the familiar sights and sounds — mechanics yelling, engines revving, reporters gesturing to their cameras. It’s like you never left.

You keep your sunglasses on and your head down, hoping to avoid notice. The last thing you want is to be bombarded by your old coworkers. As a data analyst for Sky Sports F1, you knew everyone in the paddock. But you walked away from it all for Max and you aren’t sure what kind of reception awaits you now.

“Max! Max Verstappen!” You hear a female voice call out. You suppress a groan as you recognize it as belonging to Emma, one of the network’s top reporters. She hurries over, dictaphone in hand. “Max, can I get a quick interview for the pre-race show?”

“Sure,” Max says easily. He keeps holding your hand, drawing you forward. “Just make it quick, yeah?”

Emma nods, then seems to notice you for the first time. “I’m so sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. I’m Emma Walsh, with Sky Sports.” She sticks her hand out with a friendly smile.

You hesitate a second before shaking her hand. “Y/N,” you say simply, not offering your last name.

Emma’s eyes widen behind her glasses and she leans in for a closer look. “Wait a minute, I know you ...” Her jaw drops open. “Y/N Y/L/N? Is that you?”

You give a little shrug. “Yeah, it’s me.”

“Oh my god!” Emma practically shouts. “I can’t believe it! We all thought you fell off the face of the earth after you left Sky. What happened to you?”

Max slides an arm around your waist. “She fell for me,” he says with a grin.

Emma’s eyes bug out even more as she takes in your designer dress, heels, and rock on your finger. “You mean … you and Max ...”

You nod, feeling yourself blush. “About a year ago, yeah.”

“Wow.” Emma shakes her head in disbelief. “Just … wow. I mean, look at you! You look incredible!”

You smooth your hands self-consciously over your dress. Your style has certainly changed since your Sky Sports days of sensible pantsuits. As an analyst, you had lived in jeans, flats, and minimal makeup, your hair always pulled back in a simple ponytail. Now your hair falls in soft waves over your shoulders, and you’re wearing a floaty floral maxi dress and strappy heels. You went from broadcasting racing stats to being a WAG almost overnight.

“Thanks,” you say, your cheeks growing even warmer. “It’s really good to see you, Emma.”

“You too!” She grins. “I have so many questions, but I better let you go for now. Don’t want to keep the championship leader waiting.” She winks at Max. “We’ll catch up later, yeah? Drinks tonight to celebrate your return?”

“Sure, sounds good.” You smile, thankful she’s not pressing for more details now. Emma waves and heads off in search of her next interview.

Max keeps his arm around you as you continue through the paddock. “See, that wasn’t so bad,” he murmurs.

You let out a shaky laugh. “One down, about a hundred more to go.”

Over the next hour you run into what feels like every person you used to work with. They all react with similar shock at the former paddock nerd turned glamorous girlfriend of the reigning four-time World Champion.

You chat briefly with Will, who stutters over his words and goes bright red when you say hello. He had the biggest crush on you back when you worked together. Sarah can’t stop gushing over your ring. Tom tells you how weird it is not to see you hunched over a laptop crunching numbers.

The encounters leave you feeling drained, but also relieved. Your old coworkers seem genuinely happy for you, not resentful like you had worried. They don’t pry too much into how exactly you went from reporting race stats to ending up with Max Verstappen. That’s a story for another time.

Eventually you make it to the Red Bull garage, where you let out a long breath. “Phew, I survived.”

Max grins and pulls you close. “You were amazing. And you look beautiful, as always.” He nuzzles your neck.

You smile and loop your arms around his shoulders. “Have I mentioned how happy I am whenever I’m with you?”

“Mmm, maybe once or twice.” Max kisses you softly. “But feel free to keep reminding me.”

“Ahem.” Christian Horner clears his throat from behind you. “If you two can pause the PDA for a moment, we have a race to focus on.”

You spring apart, blushing furiously at being caught by Max’s team principal. Max just laughs and slings an arm around your shoulders.

“Lighten up, Christian. I’m allowed to kiss my fiancée.”

Christian shakes his head, but he’s fighting a smile. “Indeed you are. But perhaps when there aren’t cameras around?” He nods over your shoulder.

You turn to see several photographers zooming in, no doubt dying to get shots of the paddock’s newest it couple. You bury your face in Max’s shoulder.

“Ugh, no privacy anywhere,” you grumble.

Max kisses your hair. “It’s not so bad. Just part of the deal when you’re with me, remember?”

You smile up at him. “Very true. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

The day passes in a blur of activity. Max has various sponsor obligations and media commitments. You stick close by his side, learning how to avoid the cameras and deflect the constant questions about your relationship. Being the center of attention still feels strange, but you’re getting better at handling it.

During Max’s autograph session, you chat with some of the other drivers’ girlfriends and wives. They give you tips on dealing with the madness. You’re touched by how kind and welcoming they are.

“It takes some getting used to,” Alex Albon’s girlfriend, Lily, says. “But once you figure out how to focus on what really matters, the rest just becomes background noise.”

You nod. Your priority is Max. Everything else is just part of the ride.

***

One Year Ago

You sink down onto a stack of tires behind the Red Bull motorhome, finally letting the tears fall. This weekend in Barcelona has been a nightmare so far. Your team at Sky Sports is chronically understaffed, so you’ve been working 18 hour days analyzing data and prepping stats graphics.

You’re exhausted, frustrated, and seriously questioning your career choices.

On top of that, you just found out that your coworker and boyfriend Jamie has been cheating on you for months with one of the new junior reporters. You feel like such an idiot for not realizing it sooner.

You just need a few minutes to yourself to cry it out before plastering a smile back on and soldiering through the rest of the weekend. You hear footsteps approaching and quickly dab at your eyes with your sleeve, but it’s too late.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to ...” The voice trails off awkwardly.

You glance up to see none other than Max Verstappen standing there, a look of concern on his face. Great. The last thing you need is Formula 1’s wunderkind catching you bawling behind the motorhome.

You scramble to your feet, trying to compose yourself. “Um, hi. No worries, I was just ...” You trail off, at a loss for how to explain.

Max steps closer, head tilted. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

His kindness makes the tears threaten again. You stare down at your scuffed sneakers, embarrassed.

“I’m fine, really. Just had a bad day. You know how it goes.” You force a weak laugh.

Max doesn’t seem convinced. “Here, come sit for a minute,” he says gently, guiding you back over to the stack of tires.

To your surprise, he sits down next to you in his designer jeans and Red Bull Racing hoodie like it’s no big deal. You would laugh if you weren’t still fighting more tears.

“I’m Max, by the way.” He smiles and holds out his hand.

You shake it weakly. “Yeah, I know. I mean, uh, I’m Y/N.” You blush. Smooth.

Max either doesn’t notice or is too polite to comment. “So Y/N, what has you so upset? Boyfriend troubles?” He raises an eyebrow knowingly.

You let out a watery chuckle. “Yeah, something like that. The idiot’s been cheating on me it turns out.” Saying it out loud makes the hurt swell back up.

Max shakes his head angrily. “What a dick. I don’t understand guys who treat girls like that. You deserve so much better, Y/N.”

The genuine outrage on your behalf makes you smile a bit through the tears. “Thanks, Max. I appreciate that.”

He nods. “Any guy would be lucky to have a girl as pretty and smart as you. This loser doesn’t know what he’s lost.”

Now you really can’t help blushing. You’re used to being called a lot of things — nerdy, awkward, obsessive about stats — but no one’s ever called you pretty before. Especially not a kind, cute, and famous race car driver.

You dip your head, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear self-consciously. “You’re very sweet to say that.”

Max bumps your shoulder with his. “Just calling it like I see it.”

You chat for a few more minutes about nothing in particular. Max is easy to talk to, and makes you laugh with funny stories about mishaps in the garage. By the time you hear your boss calling your name, you’ve almost forgotten about Jamie and your tear-stained face.

“Shit, I have to get back to work,” you say, standing quickly and grabbing your laptop bag. “Thanks for listening, Max. I really appreciate you taking the time.”

“Of course.” Max stands too, shoving his hands in his pockets. He seems reluctant to end the conversation. “Hey, maybe I’ll see you around again this weekend?”

You give him a curious look, wondering why he’d want to see you again after witnessing that mess of emotions. But he looks sincere. “Yeah, maybe! I’m around if you need any stats analysis or data work.” You tap your temple. “Numbers nerd, at your service.”

Max grins. “Good to know. Take care, Y/N.” With a little wave, he heads off, leaving you staring after him in surprise.

The rest of the day you keep replaying those moments with Max in your head, unable to focus. Why did he seem so interested in a frumpy data analyst having a meltdown? You can’t make sense of it.

By the time qualifying ends on Saturday, you’re practically dead on your feet. Your eyelids keep drooping as you pack up your equipment. Maybe you’ll just sleep under your desk tonight instead of walking all the way to the hotel.

“Long day, huh?”

You jerk awake to see Max leaning in the doorway of your makeshift office, thumbs hooked in his pockets. He looks annoyingly energetic and put together compared to your disheveled state.

“Uh, yeah.” You smooth your hair back,feeling self-conscious. Why does he have to catch you looking like such a mess yet again? “Just have about a million graphics to finish before tomorrow’s broadcast. The glamorous life of a data analyst,” you say wryly.

Max frowns. “They keep you here this late doing all the work yourself?”

You sigh, rubbing your grainy eyes beneath your glasses. “Unfortunately yes. We’re way understaffed, but it’s not like they’ll give us more budget to hire help.”

Max shakes his head. “That’s unacceptable. You deserve so much better than this.”

The kindness in his voice makes you suddenly emotional again. You bite your lip, willing yourself not to tear up at work twice in one day.

“Thanks, Max. I’ll be okay though, once I get some sleep ...” You know you don’t sound convincing.

Max appears to think for a moment, his brow furrowed. “You know what, enough of this. Come on.”

Before you can react, he takes your hand and gently tugs you to your feet.

“W-what? Where are we going?” You stammer, heartbeat quickening.

“We’re getting out of here. You’re clearly exhausted and need a break.” Max keeps hold of your hand as he leads you from the office.

“But-but my work … I have to finish-” Even as you protest, you let him continue pulling you along. A rebellious part of you is thrilled at this sudden adventure.

“It can wait. Right now, we’re getting some food and drinks in you so you actually have energy left for tomorrow.” Max winks at you as you exit the paddock into the cool night air. “Trust me.”

And despite barely knowing this man, you realize you do trust him. Max guides you around the corner to a lively tapas bar, chatting all the while about random topics to make you laugh. He seems genuinely interested in getting to know you.

Over shared plates of patatas bravas and fizzy cocktails, you find yourself opening up to Max in a way you never do with people you just met. But his kindness and openness make you feel comfortable. He tells you more about life as an F1 driver, the pressures and perks.

“It must be amazing getting to travel all over the world racing cars,” you muse after your second cocktail. “Like a dream.”

“Part of it is, yeah.” Max smiles wryly. “But it can also be lonely. Never really putting down roots anywhere. Hard to meet people outside the racing bubble, you know?”

You nod thoughtfully. Under the playboy racer exterior, it seems there’s a down-to-earth guy who just wants connection. On impulse, you cover his hand with yours and give it a squeeze.

“Well, you’ve got a friend here now if you ever need company at a race.”

Max turns his palm over to link his fingers through yours. “I was hoping you’d say that.” His smile is so warm and genuine, you feel your cheeks heat.

By the time you stumble back to your hotel, you’re laughing and chatting with Max like old friends. When you get to your door though, you blink blearily and sway on your feet — the long day and alcohol hitting you hard.

Max steadies you with a hand on your waist. “Whoa there. You gonna make it okay?”

You wave a hand drunkenly. “Oh yeah, totally fiiiine ...” Your balance wavers again. Okay, maybe not so fine.

Max bites his lip, seeming to have an internal debate. “Alright, slight change of plans. You’re in no state to be left alone right now.”

In one smooth motion he scoops you up bridal-style. You make a very dignified squeaking noise and clutch his shoulders.

“Max! What are you doing?”

“Making sure you’re safe for the night.” He grins down at you. “You can stay in my suite where I can keep an eye on you.”

“But … people will think ...” Even tipsy, you know spending the night in Max Verstappen’s hotel room is probably a bad idea.

“Let them think whatever. I’m being a gentleman, I promise.” The sincerity in his eyes melts your feeble protests. You really are in no state to be left alone.

You sigh and rest your head on his shoulder. “Okay fine, you win. But just for tonight!”

Max chuckles, carrying you towards the elevator. “Deal. We’ll get you sobered up and rested for tomorrow.”

You have vague impressions of a plush suite, being tucked into cool satin sheets and handed water and pills for your headache. Max brushes hair off your face with a lingering touch. “Get some sleep, Y/N. I’m right next door if you need me.”

His kindness brings tears to your eyes again, but happy ones this time. As you drift off surrounded by his scent, you think dazedly that maybe this race weekend hasn’t been so terrible after all.

In the morning, waking up in Max Verstappen’s hotel bed, you at first think it was all some crazy dream. Then the smell of brewing coffee draws you out to the living room, where Max stands in the kitchenette.

“Morning! I ordered us some breakfast.” He hands you a mug, smiling softly.

Daylight streaming through the windows makes last night’s events seem even more surreal. You feel suddenly shy as memories return. A part of you wishes you could stay here in this peaceful bubble with him forever, away from the outside world.

But reality calls, as you both have jobs to return to. Max convinces you to eat some food and take more pain meds before he walks you back to your own room to shower and change.

At your door he pulls you into a gentle hug. “Take care of yourself today, okay Y/N? And if you need another break or company again, you know where to find me.” He presses a featherlight kiss to your forehead that sends tingles through your entire body.

Somehow you make it through the day fueled by Max’s kindness and the smallest hope this could lead to more. You catch sight of him striding through the paddock, fans clamoring for his attention. His eyes always seem to find you though, lighting up with that warm smile.

After the race, you’re back in your makeshift office trying not to fall asleep at your desk before the last minutes of broadcasts. When you walk outside into the golden hour sunset though, Max is waiting for you.

“So, ready for round two at the tapas place to celebrate my win?” He bumps your shoulder playfully.

You grin up at him, this beautiful boy who inexplicably wants to spend all his free moments with you. “Definitely. Bring on the croquetas.”

Laughing together, you start making your way there. And though you don’t know what this budding connection will lead to, you’re ready to find out.

***

Nine Months Ago

You snuggle deeper into Max’s arms with a contented sigh, resting your head on his chest. The lights are dim and music plays softly in the background of his hotel suite. Rain patters against the windows, making it the perfect night to get cozy indoors.

Being wrapped up with Max like this, away from the chaos of the race weekend, has become your favorite place to be over the past few months. After that impulsive first night in Barcelona when he took care of you, you started spending more and more time together.

What began as a supportive friendship soon turned into dates, kisses, and eventually becoming official boyfriend and girlfriend. You still can’t believe that Max Verstappen, Formula 1 superstar, wants to be with a plain data analyst like yourself. But from the way he looks at you — like you’re the most captivating person in the world — you don’t doubt his sincerity.

“Have I told you lately how beautiful you are?” Max murmurs, trailing his fingers slowly up and down your arm.

You smile and nuzzle his neck. “Mmm, I think you mentioned it once or twice.”

His hands drift up to stroke your hair and you practically purr, eyes drifting shut. Max kisses the top of your head. “I mean it though, Y/N. Being with you makes me so happy.”

You lift your head to meet his lips in a soft kiss. “You make me happy too, Max. I-” You cut off with an enormous yawn that you fail to stifle in time.

Max chuckles. “Am I boring you over here?”

“No no,” you insist around another yawn. “I just can’t seem to keep my eyes open tonight.”

It’s true. As blissful as you feel cuddled up with Max, you’re utterly exhausted. This weekend has been nonstop work with little sleep. By the time you wrapped the Sky broadcasts up for the night, you could barely see straight.

Max brushes a strand of hair back from your face, his expression growing serious. “You’re completely worn out, schatje. I hate seeing you push yourself to the breaking point like this.”

You give him a tired smile. “It’s okay, really. I’m used to the long hours by now. Occupational hazard.” It comes out less convincingly than you intended.

Max’s frown deepens. He shifts around to face you, cradling your cheek in his palm. “But you shouldn’t have to be used to it, Y/N. Your bosses take advantage of your dedication. It’s not right.”

You bite your lip, not meeting his earnest gaze. Deep down you know he’s correct, but you don’t know what else to do. This career has been your life for years now.

Max gently turns your face back to his. “You deserve so much better. You keep giving everything to this job and they just keep demanding more. When’s the last time you took a real break?”

You look down, feeling the prickle of tears. You can’t even remember your last vacation or rest day. “It’s okay, really ...” you whisper half-heartedly.

“No, it’s not.” Max’s voice is firm but caring. He tips your chin up to meet his eyes. “I can’t stand seeing you being taken advantage of. It makes me want to take care of you properly, the way you should be.”

Your breath catches at the intensity in his gaze. Being taken care of and cherished so deeply is new for you. You don’t know how to respond.

Max seems to take your silence as uncertainty. “Just think about it, liefje. You could finally put yourself first and do what makes you happy instead of what makes Sky Sports happy.” He caresses your cheek with his thumb. “Doesn’t a break to rest and recover sound nice?”

You close your eyes with a shaky exhale, admitting to yourself just how badly you need it. Your health and mental wellbeing have been steadily declining under the relentless stress.

“It really does sound nice,” you whisper. A few tears leak out beneath your lashes.

Max kisses them away tenderly, holding you close. “Shh I know, baby. You’re burning yourself out trying to do the impossible. Anyone would be exhausted.”

You cling to him, sniffling. “But it’s my job, my career. I can’t just walk away ...” Even as you say it, the prospect doesn’t seem as scary as it once did. Not if you get to have this, being wrapped in Max’s love and care.

“You can walk away from anything that’s making you suffer. You’re so much more than this job. And you’ll never have to worry or want for anything ever again.” His tone drips with promise.

You lean back to search his face. “What do you mean?”

Max smiles and brushes his nose against yours. “I mean, I’ll take care of you. If you leave your job to focus on yourself and our relationship, you will want for nothing. I’ll make sure of it.”

Your eyes go wide. “You mean … quit working altogether and just … be with you full time?”

Max nods, still smiling. “It can be that simple if you want. No more crazy hours and stress. Just let me spoil you and give you the life you deserve. What do you say?”

Your pulse races as you imagine it. No more coming home at 2 am and collapsing, living off vending machine snacks. Instead you could be leisurely mornings with Max, seeing the world together, doing activities you actually enjoy instead of endless stats analysis ...

It sounds idyllic. But could you really just stop working and let Max support you? Would people judge you for it?

As if reading your mind, Max says “Ignore whatever anyone else might think. This is about what’s right for you and makes you happy. I’m sure of this, Y/N. Please trust me.”

His eyes radiate so much love and certainty. Slowly you nod, feeling a weight lift from your chest.

“Okay,” you whisper. “If you’re sure then … I trust you, Max.”

Joy spreads across his face. He kisses you deeply, pouring all his feelings into it. When he finally pulls back you’re both breathless.

“You won’t regret this, schatje. I’m going to take such good care of you from now on.” Max strokes your hair, eyes shining. “No more exhaustion and stress. Just being together and enjoying life. It will be amazing.”

You truly believe it as you drift off, safe in his arms. No more pressure to single-handedly carry Sky Sports’ data analysis. From now on, you can just be his … and find yourself again.

The next day you take a deep breath and knock on your boss’ door. Within minutes, you’ve quit your job and ended a years long chapter. It feels bittersweet but right as you box up your belongings from your little makeshift office. This time when tears prick your eyes, they’re from overwhelming relief.

Max is waiting to pick you up, greeting you with a spinning hug and long kiss. “I’m so proud of you. You’re going to be so much happier and healthier from now on, I just know it.”

You hug him tight, burying your face in his neck. “I already feel lighter. This was the right choice.”

And it truly is. As you jet off to a tropical island just the two of you that weekend, it feels like a new life.

The days pass in a dreamy haze — sleeping in, long massages, breakfast in bed courtesy of Max, sunset walks on the beach holding hands. He delights in pampering you with gifts, gourmet meals, and your every whim met often before you even speak it.

“I could get used to this,” you sigh contentedly as you lounge together in a cabana, sipping fruity cocktails.

Max smiles and nuzzles your neck. “That’s the idea. You’ll never lift a finger except when you want to from now on.”

It amazes you how he transforms from fierce competitor on the track to this caring, protective boyfriend behind closed doors. He seems to find his greatest happiness in making sure you’re thoroughly spoiled.

You do occasionally think of the drastic shift your life has taken. But any flicker of doubt is erased by Max’s love and devotion. He’s given you freedom from exhaustion and anxiety. You’ve never felt more adored.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” you whisper one night as you sway together on the balcony under the stars, your silk robe fluttering around you.

Max gazes at you like you hold the secrets of the universe. “You just had to be yourself, schatje. That’s all I’ll ever need.”

He takes your breath away with slow, passionate kisses until you meltingly agree to take things inside. Your first time together is everything you imagined and more.

Afterwards, lying entwined with Max stroking your hair, you have never felt more whole. You found in each other what you needed most — care, understanding, and unwavering love.

This blissful new life together has only just begun.

***

A Few Hours Ago

You hum to yourself as you flip through the designer outfits in your massive walk-in closet, selecting options for the upcoming race. This will be your first time attending a Grand Prix on Max’s arm and you want to look perfect.

As you sift through rows of Chanel, Dior, Valentino, and Prada, you feel a pair of familiar arms wrap around your waist.

“Need any help choosing?” Max asks, nuzzling your neck.

You lean back into him with a smile. “I was just trying to narrow it down. I want to look nice for your big weekend.”

Max turns you in his arms, one hand coming up to caress your cheek. “Schatje, you could show up in sweatpants and you’d still be the most beautiful woman there.”

You scrunch your nose. “But it’s Monaco! I need to look at least semi put-together.”

“It’s impossible for you to look anything but,” Max declares, stealing a quick kiss. “You always look perfect to me.”

You swat his chest but can’t help grinning. His constant compliments and admiration still give you flutters even after months together.

Taking your hand, Max comes to stand before the endless clothing options. “Okay, let’s see what we’re working with here.”

You pull out two of your favorites: a sleek black Balmain jumpsuit with a deep neckline and waist cutouts, and a shimmering floral Givenchy maxi dress.

“Ooh, these are both amazing,” Max says, fingering the luxe fabrics. “That jumpsuit would show off your sexy legs, but this fabric is so pretty with your skin tone ...”

You chew your bottom lip thoughtfully. “I’m torn too. What’s your vote?”

Max pretends to scrutinize them closely before breaking into a smile. “Well you know I love you in anything. Or nothing,” he adds with a wink.

You roll your eyes and swat him with a hanger. “Behave! I need actual fashion advice please.”

“Okay okay.” Max puts on an exaggerated serious expression. “The Givenchy dress is very classy and princess-like. But I love the way this Balmain hugs your curves.” To demonstrate, he traces a hand along the waist and down your side.

You shiver pleasantly at his touch. “Mmm, good point ...”

Max leans in close behind you, hands resting on your hips. “Imagine me peeling it off of you after my win.” He presses a kiss below your ear.

You melt back into him, tilting your head to give him better access to your neck. “Well when you put it that way ...”

“The dress would be pretty easy access too though.” Max slides his hands under the fabric across your thighs teasingly.

You gasp and swat him away again, laughing. “Okay stop distracting me! I really do need to pick.”

Max relents with a grin, holding up his hands in surrender. “Alright, you win. I officially vote for the dress. It’s sexy yet elegant, just like you.”

You smile and give him a peck on the lips. “Now, what about bags and shoes?”

You move through your endless options as Max offers his input. He has a surprising eye for fashion despite his own relaxed, sporty style.

“This one matches the best.” He selects a sleek black crocodile Birkin. “Classy and understated.”

You turn the bag over in your hands. “Ooh I forgot I had this one. Good call!”

After picking strappy heels to complete the look, you start browsing your jewelry selection.

“That’s a lot of shiny stuff,” Max remarks, eyes roving over the boxes of diamonds, emeralds, sapphires and more.

You arch an eyebrow. “Says the one who got carried away with the jewelry purchases ...”

Max just grins and pulls you close. “I want you to have it all. You deserve to be spoiled.” He captures your lips in a sweet kiss.

You hum happily against his mouth before pulling back. “Will you help me pick something?”

“Hmm let’s see ...” Max peruses the options before selecting an elegant diamond necklace. “Yeah, this one is perfect. Really complements the dress.”

He fastens it carefully around your neck, meeting your eyes in the mirror with a smile. His gaze trails down your body as you model the full outfit together.

“You look absolutely incredible, liefje. Every man in Monaco will be drooling over you.”

You turn to wrap your arms around his shoulders. “Well I only care about impressing one man.” You kiss the tip of his nose.

Max’s hands find your waist again, warm on your exposed skin. “Oh trust me, I am very impressed. And the second we’re alone after the race this outfit will be on the floor.”

You laugh as he nuzzles into your neck, nipping lightly. Somehow, you manage to fall more in love with Max every day.

You eventually disentangle, needing to actually get ready for the day ahead.

“What should I wear in the meantime?” You muse, fingers drifting over the designer options.

Before you can choose, Max comes up behind you and starts guiding a silk robe onto your shoulders.

“How about nothing at all? I’m enjoying this view already,” he murmurs against your skin as he wraps the sash loosely around your waist.

You lean back into him with a hum of pleasure. “Well if you insist ...”

Max takes your hand and leads you to the bed, laying you back against the pillows. He undoes the robe just enough to expose your body as he trails kisses everywhere. “Mmm yes, this is much better than any outfit.”

You run your fingers through his hair, arching into his touch. “What happened to getting ready for the race?” You breathe.

Max pauses his kisses just below your navel to flash a wicked grin up at you. “Race day can wait for a few more minutes. Right now I want to appreciate my gorgeous girl.”

You have zero arguments with that logic. With a happy sigh, you surrender to his skilled and eager mouth, letting all other concerns fade away. Everything else will have its turn — being worshiped by Max is the only thing on your schedule this morning.

Eventually though, you manage to dress and make your way to the circuit. As you ride through the streets together on the way, Max keeps an arm curled tightly around you.

“You know, despite the fancy clothes and jewelry, you’re still the same humble, kind-hearted woman I fell for,” Max says, kissing your temple. “All that other stuff just enhances your inner beauty.”

You smile and squeeze his hand as you lift your lips to meet his. “You always know just what to say.”

You keep your chin up and shoulders back as you step onto the harborside track that will soon be swarming with VIPs. With Max by your side, you have everything you need — now and always.

***

Monaco Grand Prix, 2025

The cheers of the crowd echo in your ears as you watch Max pass the chequered flag, securing his win. Your heart swells with pride and love as he pulls the car over to parc fermé and hops out, immediately searching for you on the other side of the barriers.

The second his eyes land on yours, his face lights up with that smile that melts you every time. He’s barely stepped out of the car before you launch yourself into his arms.

“You did it! I’m so proud of you,” you breathlessly exclaim.

Max laughs and pulls you closer. “I’m just happy to win it for you, liefje.”

Still holding you against his chest, he claims your mouth in a fierce celebratory kiss as the team and cameras swarm around. Your world narrows to just the feeling of his lips on yours, his race suit damp with sweat under your palms.

When you finally break for air, foreheads touching, Max murmurs “I love you so much. This one was for you.”

Your answering smile feels brighter than the Monaco sunshine. “I love you too. You were incredible today.”

The podium ceremony and interviews pass in a euphoric blur. Max keeps you tucked close to his side whenever he can, his arm firmly around your waist. He only has eyes for you despite the chaos surrounding him.

Finally escaping to the privacy of his driver’s room in the Red Bull motorhome, Max properly ravages you up against the door. The heady mix of victory and desire is intoxicating.

Much later, surrounded by empty champagne bottles with Max nuzzling lazy kisses across your bare shoulders, you hear a tentative knock.

“Decent?” Comes Emma’s teasing voice.

“Just a minute!” You call out, scrambling for your discarded dress.

Max pouts adorably as you wriggle back into it. “Do we have to go out? I’m enjoying having you all to myself ...”

You smile and kiss him sweetly. “Soon baby. But let’s celebrate with some friends first.”

Max sighs but nods, taking your hand as you go open the door. Emma’s eyebrows shoot up as she takes in your thoroughly debauched state, but she politely doesn’t comment.

“Y/N! There you are! Oh, and congrats on the win,” she says to Max before turning back to you. “We’re all heading to Jimmy’z for the afterparty. You have to come!”

You hesitate, glancing at Max. “Oh, actually we already have plans ...”

“Come on, it will be like old times! We can squeeze you both in, I’m sure,” Emma pleads. Your former colleagues are beckoned over — Tom, Will, Sarah, and others waving excitedly.

Their eager faces make you pause, but Max just chuckles and slides an arm around your waist. “No need for squeezing into crowded clubs. I’ve already reserved some VIP booths so we can party properly.” He winks down at you.

“Oh! Well in that case, we’ll see you there.” Emma looks impressed. The others chatter excitedly as they head off to get ready.

You grin up at Max, arms looped around his neck. “You’re the best, you know that?”

“Only the best for you, beautiful.” He kisses you softly before you head off hand-in-hand.

After making yourselves presentable again, you set out into the Monaco night. The Circuit de Monaco is still abuzz with energy, music and laughter pouring from every corner.

The line outside Jimmy’z stretches far down the block. But the bouncer immediately waves you through with a respectful “Mr. Verstappen, this way please.”

You exchange a smile with Max, who keeps you tucked close against his side. It still feels surreal being ushered into exclusive areas that once intimidated you. Now it’s your glamorous new normal.

“Y/N, you made it!” Emma jumps up and hugs you tight. She eyes your designer outfit and perfectly styled hair. “Damn, look at you! Got that WAG glow going on.”

You smooth your hands self-consciously over your dress. “Oh, thanks! Just trying to look the part, I guess.”

You chat and laugh with Emma and your former coworkers as music pulses around you. When the Go-Go dancer comes by with a tray of sparklers, you impulsively grab two, popping one in your mouth and handing the other to a wide-eyed Emma.

She fumbles to light hers, watching as you tilt your head back and laugh, little sparks showering your face.

“Girl, you are wild tonight!” Emma has to shout over the music. “I’ve never seen you like this.”

You just smile and rummage through your Birkin for lipstick to touch up, crossing and uncrossing your legs that sport sky-high Louboutins. Your time working 18 hour days hunched over a laptop feels like another lifetime.

Eventually needing a break from the noise, you head to the bar to refresh your drink. Emma joins you, peering at the menu.

“Damn, I can’t even pronounce half this stuff,” she laughs. “What are you thinking of getting?”

You scan the options. “Mmm, maybe the Dom Pérignon Rosé? Sounds nice.”

Emma shakes her head in disbelief. “You really have gone full glam. I don’t think I ever saw you drink anything but Heineken at the track.”

You scoff, “Well we didn’t exactly have champagne on offer in our part of the paddock.”

You smile politely as the bartender brings your drink over. Emma is still eyeing you curiously.

“What?” You ask, laughing under her scrutiny.

“Nothing, just ...” She waves a hand at you. “Look at you with the designer outfit, Birkin bag, $500 drinks … you’re a whole new woman!”

You take a sip of the bubbly pink liquid and just smile. “Is that such a bad thing?”

“No no, not at all!” Emma rushes to say. “You seem really happy. I’ve just never seen you like this before. You were always the practical, focused one. Now you look … fully embraced by the glitz.”

You lean against the bar, considering her words. She’s right — the old you never could’ve imagined fully embracing this lifestyle. But now you can’t imagine anything else.

“I am happier than I’ve ever been,” you tell her honestly. “With Max I’m free to enjoy life and not worry about anything. He takes care of it all.”

Emma raises her eyebrows. “So he just … pays for everything, and you live this champagne lifestyle together?”

You smile, fingering the enormous diamond on your left hand. “Basically, yes. And it’s as amazing as it sounds. I’ll never need to work or stress over bills or anything again.”

“Huh.” Emma takes a thoughtful sip of her own drink. “Don’t you ever miss the thrill of data crunching and racing strategy though?”

You consider it for a moment. The thought of long hours analyzing race stats and performance metrics makes your brain hurt.

“You know … I really don’t,” you realize. “I can barely even remember the programs and systems we used. And I like it that way.”

Emma nods slowly. You can tell she’s making an effort to be open-minded about your new life. Before she can respond, you feel the presence of someone behind you.

“There’s my beautiful girl,” Max murmurs, sliding his arms around your waist and nuzzling your neck. “This party is nowhere near as fun without you.”

You lean back into him happily. His passion and desire for you still give you the same flutters as that first night together in Barcelona. You doubt that will ever change.

Turning in his arms, you accept the kiss he gives you, not caring that Emma is still standing there. Let her see how crazy you are for each other.

When you pull back, Max smiles down at you like you’re the only person in the crowded club. “Dance with me?” He extends a hand, already gently pulling you towards the dancefloor.

You let him lead you away without a backwards glance. Emma can think what she wants, but she can’t possibly understand your relationship with Max. You know this is exactly where you’re meant to be.

Max hands you a fresh glass of champagne and keeps an arm curled around your waist as you sway together. The music and alcohol fill you with euphoria.

“Have I told you how stunning you look tonight?” Max murmurs in your ear, his breath hot on your skin.

You smile up at him coyly. “Feel free to keep reminding me.”

Max’s answering grin is sinful. His hands travel your body as you move together. “I plan to show you later just how irresistible I find you.”

The night flies by in a blur of dancing, drinks, and stolen kisses in the shadows with Max. Your former colleagues party into the early morning, but eventually stumble back to their hotels.

You and Max retreat back to your shared apartment just as dawn breaks over the horizon. As promised, your dress hits the floor immediately. He ravages you with hungry kisses, urging you higher and higher until you cry out his name again and again.

After, wrapped securely in his arms, you sigh in utter contentment. The smooth sheets feel divine against your skin and Max gently strokes your hair as you doze against his chest.

“So I take it you had fun?” He asks, a smile in his voice.

You lift your head to grin at him. “It was amazing. Although ...” You bite your lip coyly.

Max raises an eyebrow. “Although what, schatje?”

“Well, this part is still my favorite.” You punctuate your point by straddling his waist again, bending to kiss him deeply.

Max groans appreciatively against your mouth, hands grasping your hips. “Mmm mine too. In fact, I don’t think we’re done celebrating yet ...”

Your lips part in ecstasy and your nails rake down his back as he takes you right to the edge again and again. Finally collapsing in a tangle of sweaty limbs, you’re both completely spent and blissful. You curl into Max’s side, eyes drifting shut.

“I love you so much,” you murmur, the words slurring together.

Max kisses your hair, stroking your back. “I love you too, Y/N. Being with you is a dream.”

You slip into peaceful dreams still wrapped in each other. The glitz and glamour of F1 life is fun, but nothing compares to the private world you share with Max.

You’ll face the crowds and cameras again soon. But right now, lost in Max’s embrace, you have everything you need.

[dreamydrifts]

zitti e buoni: charles leclerc

| pairing: charles leclerc x reader

| genre: f1driver!charles, f1journalist!reader

| stefy's note: i've written and rewritten this fic since last year, from october. and this time i had some help from @ellieisque (with feeding my charles delulu scenarios) so this is for both important girlies in my life @violletsareblue and @ellieisque , so enjoy girlies ;)

| warnings: swearing, manipulation (by the media), toxic behaviour (by the media), hardships of journalism, mentions of make out, minors dni

| face claim: sabrina carpenter

| word count: 6.2k

[ BACK TO MASTERLIST ]

The vivid memory of your boss giving you the opportunity to cover the Monza Grand Prix by yourself, still lingers in yout mind. Being here is what you waited for since you looked at races with your father. He made you see the sport from a different perspective, which you then realized you could use for pursuing journalism.

Checking and memorizing the stats followed by writing freelance articles late into the night for several years must have payed off because they were the reason you were given your first major Formula One assignment. The same day, the boss called you in his office handing you this opportunity with a warning. "Don't mess this up."

And you didn't plan onto. That's what you had planned. No distractions. No drooling over drivers. You'll be focused only on work.

"The Italian Grand Prix at Monza is considered a whirlwild of scarlet-clad, Tifosi along with the roaning engines and the intoxicating scent of burnt rubber." Opening the notebook, you started writing after clutching the paddock pass tightly as you looked curiously arounf the paddock.

Coming from a small but ambitious media outlet most of the time meant no exclusive interviews with the drivers, but the usual a meeting room. You couldn't complain a lot as the meeting room was quite spacious but the amount of questions you could ask were limited. Limited to none.

The spacious meeting room you were promised in the official Formula One email was nothing compared to reality. The meeting room consistend of a small square table and a chair right in front of it. As soon as you entered it, the image of hundreds of phones openly recording the famous Ferrari driver, Charles Leclerc talking about his expectations about the race.

Checking the time once again you realize that you were given the wrong or the supposedly wrong meeting hour. From the ten or fifteen minutes you thought you had none left, making you late to the interview all together. As soon as you entered the room, all the eyes were on you for a split second. All judging you for being late. But it wasn't your fault after all.

The pre-race conferrence is packed with reporters from major networks, but you manage to squeeze into the third row. With your phone raised to record Charles Leclerc's answer, you could feel his dark eyes scanning the room as he discusses the strategy. His voice is calm, but there's something beneath it. An intensity. A quiet confidence that sends a shiver down your spine.

Then, disaster strikes.

Your phone slips from your sweary grip clattering onto the floor interrupting the press conference. The sound is deafening in the momentary lull between questions. Fuck. What a way to catch his attention. Heat floods your cheeks as you bend to grab it, but before you can, a hand - sleeve rolled to the elbow, a silver watch glinting - plucks it up effortlessly.

Charles Leclerc himself.

He straightens, holding your phone out with a faint smirk. Your fingers brush as you finally take it back, and then subtle - barely there - he winks at you before returning back to the table. To the other journalists's questions. The room erupts into judging eyes, but your pulse still hammers in your ears.

For the rest of the press conference, you were nothing but focused. Your mind replays the moment over and over again. The warmth of his hand. The playful glint in his eyes. Was it just politeness, or did he actually notice you? Did THE Charles Leclerc notice you?

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

"The air in the Monza paddock crawled with the anticipation as qualifying began. The Tifosi packed the grandstands, their scarlet flags waving in unison as their chants of "Forza Ferrari" echoing through the trees of the old royal park." You continued writing in your notebook as the atmosphere was totally different that you have expected. It was nothing like you had imagined.

You stood at the edge of the Ferrari garage, your press pass dangling from your neck, your fingers gripping the notebook as you watched the screen intently. Ferrari had been strong all weekend, but so had McLaren. Charles' first runs in Q1 and Q2 were clean, his lap times consistently near the top. But Q3 - the fonal shoutout for pole - was where the real drama unfolded.

On his first flying lap, Charles was purple in Sector 1, his razor-sharp Ferrari through Curva Grande. But then, a slight lock-up into the second chicane cost him a tenth. He crossed the line P2, just behind Lando Norris.

Then the radio icon of Charles pops up into the screen seeing what the engineer had told him on the radio: "One more lap, Charles. Push for everything."

Come on Charles. Come on.

You held your breath as he began his final attempt. The car was a blur of red, howling down the main straight, the RPMs screaming as he breaked impossibly late into Turn 1, but then -

A sharp of oversteer exiting Ascari.

Fuck. Not again. So close.

The rear stepped out, and for a heart-stopping moment, it looked like he might lose it. But Charles caught it his reflexes almost supernatural. The mistake did cost him precious time.

When the checkerer flag fell, the standings flashed on the screens:

1. Lando Norris (McLaren)

2. Oscar Piastri (McLaren)

3. George Russel (Mercedes)

4. Charles Leclerc (Ferrari)

A groan rippled through the Ferrari garage. So close.

The media immediately swarmed the drivers after the session. You positioned yourself near the back of the scrum, listening as Charles faced the press.

"Charles, P4 - how do you feel about that?" A reporter asked.

He wiped the sweat from his brow, his expression calm but his jaw tight. "Not ideal, but not a disaster. The McLarens are quick here, but our pace is strong. Starting on the second row means we'll have options for the start."

Another journalist cut in. "That monent in Ascari - did that cost you pole?"

Charles exhaled, a flicker of frustration crossing his face before he schooled it back into professionalism. "Maybe. But that's qualifying. One small mistake, and it's over. Tomorrow is what matters."

Then his eyes scanned the crowd - and landed on you.

You haven't raised your hand, but something about your quiet focus must have caught his attention. He tilted his head slightly, as if waiting for you to speak.

Heart pounding, you seize the moment. "Charles, you were talking about a wider line through Parabolica all session conpared to last year. Was that a deliberate change to manage tire wear for the race?"

A beat of silence. Then his lips curled into a small, appreciative smile. "Exactly right." He said, his voice warmer now. "We're expecting high degradation, so we adjusted the line to keep the tires alive. Smart observation."

The other reporters glance at you, some with curiosity, some with annoyance. Charles however held your gaze for a second longer than necessary before turning back to the next question.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

"Race day dawned under a blistering Italian sun, the air thick with the scent of fuel and Tifosi anticipation. The sea of red in the grandstands rippled like a living thing, their chants of "Forza Ferrari" shaking the old royal park." You wrote down in the small notebook you always kept with you. You stood once again at the edge of Ferrari garage, your paddock pass sticking to your shirt in humidity, as you cletched the notebook.

"Plan A", you could hear coming through the Ferrari garage. "One-stop. Hard tire start. We go long."

A gamble.

When the lights went out, Charles launch was electric. He rocketed past Russel into Turn 1, his Ferrari's nose edging alongside Piastri's McLaren through the Rettifilo chicane. The crowed roared as the scarlet car emerged P3 by Curva Grande.

While Norris pulled away out front, Charles bibed his time. His hard tires, durable but slower early on, needed laps to settle. He held his position, his lap times metronomic - 1:24.5, 1:24.3, 1:24.4 - never pushing too soon. Never letting Piastri breathe.

Lap eighteen. Norris pitted first, swapping for mediums. McLaren expected Ferrari to cover them. They didn't.

"Stay out, Charles. Extend the stint." The icon of his radio pops up again. They were really going for it.

He obeyed, his pace now scintillating - 1:23.9, 1:23.7 - as his hard tired, now in their sweet spot, devoured the track. By lap twenty two he'd built a twenty two second gap to Norris.

Then Ferrari struck. "Box now. Box now. Soft tires."

A flawless two second stop. Charles rejoined ahead of Norris, whose fresher mediums couldn't match his soft-tire grip. The Tifosi erupted.

Now P2 Charles hunted down Piastri. The young McLaren driver defended hard, but on lap forty two, Chsrles feinted left into Curva Grande before jinking right, darting past through the Roggia chicane with a move so bold Mclaren's front wing nearly clipped his rear.

The italian commentator could be heard speaking through the barely heard speakers "He's through! Charles Leclerc is leading the Italian Grand Prix!"

The final laps were a masterclass in tire management. His softs were fading, Piastri closing at half a second per lap, but Charles was working his magic. He took every curb perfectly, his voice calm on the radio. "Tell me the gaps."

"1.2 seconds. Two laps to go."

The main straight on the final lap was a wall of sound. Piastri's McLaren loomed into his mirrors, DRS wide open - but Charles crossed the line 0.8 seconds clear, his fists already pumping into the cockpit.

As the Monegasque anthem, followed by the Italian anthem blared, Charles stood atop the Monza podium, champagne soaking his fireproofs, the Tifosi singing in exstasy. In the garage, engineers hugged; in the stands grown men wept.

And in the media pen, your hands shook as you scribbled your notes.

This is why you loved racing.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The Monza podium celebrations had been electric - Charles drenched in champagne, the Tifosi roaring as he held the Italian frag high. Now, in the press conference room, the atmosphere was more subdued but still buzzing with energy.

You sat at the back, your small media outlet's logo barely visible on your pass compared to the Sky Sports and ESPN badges surrounding you. Most of the questions so far had been predictable: "Charles, how does it feel to win at Monza?", "Can you walk us through the overtake on lap forty two?", "Do you think Ferrari can keep this momentum?".

Charles answered them all with the usual polished charm, but you noticed the way his fingers tapped the microphone - just slightly - when questions got repetitive.

Then, the moderator pointed to you.

"Question from Y/N Y/L/N, Trackside Media." A flew journalists glanced back, eyebrows raised at the unfamiliar outlet. Charles gaze flicked to you, and for a split second, you could swear that his lips twitched into recognition - the girl who dropped her phone.

You cleared your throat. "Charles, you took a different line through Ascari on your final push lap compared to your earlier attempts. Was that a pre-planned adjustment or something you felt in the moment?"

Another beat of silence, just like before.

Then, Charles smiled - not the polite press smile, but something sharper, more intrigued. He leaned forward. "It wasn't planned. The car was understeering a bit early on, but after the last pit stop, the tires came alive. I felt i coild brake earlier, carry more speed through double apex. So i went for it."

He held your gaze just a second longer than necessary before adding. "Glad someone noticed."

A murmur rippled through the room. Your cheeks burned, but you grinned as you scribbled down the answer.

As the conference ends you pack your gear, satisfied with the footage you could have gotten and had got already - until a familiar voice cuts through the noise.

"You dropped this earlier."

You turn. Charles stands there, holding out your press pass - the one that must have fallen during your fumble. Up close, he's even more striking, sweat still glistening on his brow, his race suit unzipped to reveal the scarled Ferrari fireproofs.

"Oh - thank you." You stammer.

Charles studies you for a beat, then tilts his head. "You're not with the usual press."

"No. Small independent outlet." You admit, bracing for dissmissal.

But Charles grins. "You seemed....different. Not asking the same questions everyone else does." A pause. "Would you be interested in a proper interview?"

Was he really asking you this? Was this a joke? Your breath catches. "Seriously?"

"Yeah. How about my place? Less...chaotic."

The invitation hangs between the two of you, electric. Before you can overthink it, you nod. "I'd love to."

You couldn't believe it. You just scored an exclusive interview with THE Charles Leclerc. And not only that?but at his house also.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Charle's Monaco penthouse was nothing like the sterile press rooms you were used to. The elevator opened directly into a sun-drenched living space, all warm wood accents and floor-to-ceiling windows framing the Mediterranean like a painting. A vintage Ferrari poster hung beside modern abstract art, and a well-loved piano sat in the corner, sheet music splayed open - his new song.

He greeted you barefoot, in dark jeans and a sofr gray sweater pushed up to his elbows, a half drunk espresso abandoned on the kitchen counter. "You're early." He noted.

"Professional habit." You answered him, suddenly hyper-aware of your own outfit. A silk blouse and tailored slacks, dressed to impress bout now feeling overly formal.

"Relax." He murmured, as if he was reading your mind. "This isn't Sky Sports." He led you the living room, where a low leather couch faced the sea. Instead of the expected table-and-chairs interview setup, he'd arranged two microphones on a coffee table, a single camera on a tripod angled to capture the view behind the two of you.

"No press team?" You asked, while you sat your bag down.

"I sent them home." He handed you a glass of sparkling water lime wedges floating atop the ice. "Figured if we're doing this, we do it right."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

"You've said before that racing is as much mental as it is physical. What does a bad day in your head look like? The kind no camera catches." You ask the question before checking once again your notebook to see if you read it correctly.

Charles exhaled, rubbing his jaw. "It's...like static. You know every move you're making is wrong, but you can't stop it. Your hands feel heavy on the wheel. Your foot hesitates on the pedals. And the worst part?" He met your gaze. "You know it's happening, and you're powerless to fix it."

Your pen hovered over the notebook. This wasn't the polished answer he gave Sky Sports.

"You grew up watching Schumacher dominate in Ferrari red. What did you feel the first time you sat in a real Ferrari cockpit?" You continued asking the questions you had prepared.

A slow smile spread across his face. "I cried." At your raised brow, he laughed. "Not in the garage - I waited until I was alone. But it was...overwelming. That childhood dream? Suddenly it was real. And the weight of it hit me all at once."

"What a mistake you made early in your career that still keeps you up at night?" You knew this would be a deep question for him as it can turn back to the races he lost in his career.

"Baku. 2021." The answer came instanty his voice tight. "I was leading , got greedy and crashed in qualifying. Threw away a sure win. Now? I never push quite as hard on thag corner, even when i know i can." A rueful shrug. "Fear stays with you."

"You're one of the best qualifiers on the grid. What's actualky going through your mind during a pole lap?" You wanted to ask this questions for years, it was a question both you and yout father were curious about.

"Nothing." Your surprise made him grin. "That's the secret. When it's perfect, your brain shuts off. You're not thinking - you're just doing. It's the closest thing to flying i'll ever feel."

"Ferrari's strategy calls have been...controversial. How do you stay calm when you hear something you dissagree with over the radio?"

Charles leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "You don't. You rage - but only after the race. In the moment? You trust. Even when every instinct screams not to." A bitter chuckle. "Doesn't mean i don't yell into my helmet sometimes."

You laugh for a moment along with him. "What's something about Formula One that frightens you?"

Silence. Then, quietly. "Being forgotten." He looked away, out at the harbor. "Not the crashes. Not the pressure. The idea that one day, no matter what i do., the sport will move on without me."

"You're known for being hard on yourself. What's one thing you're proud of, no asterisks?"

"Monaco. 2024." His voice softened. "Not the race - the qualifying. That lap was mine. No luck. No favors. Just...perfection."

"If you could erase one rumour about yourself, what would it be?"

"That i'm cold." His jaw tightened. "People think i don't care because i don't show it like others do. But the fire's there. It just burns quieter."

"What's a piece of advice you'd give your sixteen-year-old self?" You looked once again at the notebook checking to see if you were on time with the questions.

"Enjoy it." A sad smile. "I was so focused on the next step, I forgot to live the dream."

Last one. "What's something no one knows about Charles Leclerc?"

He held your gaze, suddenly serious. "I hate being alone. The silence after the race? It's the hardest part."

As the final question faded, you realized that your notes were abandoned. This wasn't an interview anymore - it was a confession. The Charles Leclerc the world saw - the focused, composed race winner, was just the surface.

The man in front of you? He was human. Flawed. Fearful. Real.

"That's it." You whispered shutting off the camera.

Charles slumped back into thr couch a hand running through his hair. "That was..."

"Honest."

Your eyes met. Somethibg unspoken passed between the two of you - an understanding.

Then with a shaky laugh, Charles gestured to the camera. "Please tell me that thing was off for the last part."

Your lips curved. "Wouldn't you like to know?" You say as you sat back next to him in the couch after shutting off the camera.

Impulsively then Charles says, as he catches your wrist where you hold the memory disk of the camera. "We should do this again. But without the cameras."

You froze. "Are you...asking me out?"

Charles blinked, as if startled by his own words. Then, with a slow, deliberate smile. "Yeah. I think i am."

A beat. The camera was off. No PR, no audience - just you and him.

"Good." You whispered. "Because i'd say yes."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The moment TrackSide Media uploaded the interview, the internet lost its collective mind.

Your phone erupted in a symphony of pings before you even had time to process what was happening. Twitter, Instagram, Reddit - every platform had already dissected the final thirty seconds of footage where Charles Leclerc, Ferrari's golden boy, had looked directly into the camera and said. "We should do this again. Without the cameras."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

| INSTAGRAM POST - SEP 3rd

F1Gossip

Liked by charles_leclerc, lando and 969,670 others

F1Gossip Charles Leclerc just publicly asked out a journalist. I REPEAT: WE ARE NOT SURVIVING THIS

View all 15,786 comments

user1 Lecler's PR team currently drafting a statement: Charles was merely being hospitable while Charles himself is texting Y/N 'so dinner tomorrow'?

user2 if this woman doesn't say yes, i will personally fly to Monaco and accept on her behalf

user3 who is she? some nobody trying to get some clout?

user4 charles could do so much better

user5 she's actually kind of cute though

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

You stomach twisted as you scrolled. You expected some reaction, but not this. Not memes of your stunned face, not think pieces analyzing Charles body language, not hate messages flooding your DMs.

Your editor's text was the final nail in the coffin

| Mark Y/N. The video's at 500K views in two hours. The board wants a follow up. Are you actually dating him?

You threw your phone onto the bed like it had burned you.

For the next forty-eight-hours, you existed in a state of suspended disbelief. Charles had texted you immediately after the interview dropped, "Ignore the noise - They'll move on by next week." but the noise was deafening. Every major sport outlet had picked up the story. Even Sky Sports had a segment titled "Leclerc's Love Life: What this means for Ferrari's Season."

Your inbox was a warzone. Interview requests. Podcasts invites. A People Magazine editor asking if she'd do a Getting Ready For My Date with Charles" spread.

By the time Friday rolled around, you were half-convinced you should cancel. It was too much. Too public. Too dangerous.

Then your phone buzzed.

| Char❤️ Still on for tonight? I promise i won't let Autosport crash our date

Against all logic, you smiled.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The cobblestone path twisted away from the glittering harbor, the air thick with the scent of salt and frying garlic. Charles led you by the hand, his fingers warm and calloused against yours, his other hand shoved casually in the pocket of his dark jeans. He wore a simple black t-shirt, the fabric stretched sloghtly across his shoulders, and a silver chain glinted at his throat in the dim glow of the streetlights.

No sunglasses. No pretense. Just him.

"You're taking me to a back alley?" You teased, your heels clicking against the uneven stones. "Should i be worried?"

Charles glanced over his shoulder, a smirk playing at his lips. "Only if you're scared of the best socca in Monaco."

He stopped in front of an unassuming blue door, the paint peeling slightly at the edges. A handwritten sign above it read "Chez Manthieu" in faded script.

"This is your idea of a date?" To say the least that you were skeptical about his ideas of date and how he saw them, but in the same time intrigued.

"Better than some overpriced terrace where they serve three scallops and call it dinner." He pushed the door open, the warm hum of conversation and clicking silverware spilling out into the night.

Inside the restaurant was all cozy-checkered tablecloths, chalkboard menus, and the rich aroma of simmering tomato sauce and fresh bread. An older man with a flour-doused apron looked up from behind the counter, his face splitting into a grin. "Charles! Enfin!"

Charles laughed, releasing your hand to embrace the man in a quick, back-slapping hug. "Mathieu, this is Y/N."

Mathieu's eyes twinkled as he took you in. "Ah, so this is why you called ahead."

Charles rolled his eyes, but his ears pinked slightly. "Ignore him. He thinks he's funny."

Mathieu led you to a small corner table, half-hidden by a shelf of wine bottles. "I'll bring you the usual.", he said already walking away.

"The usual?" You raised your eyebrow at him. The usual would mean that he must have come here often enough.

Charles leaned back in his chair, his knee brushing yours under the table. "I come here when i don't want to be Charles Leclerc."

And just like that, you understood.

The socca arrived still sizzling from the oven, its golden surface blistered and crisp at the edges. Charles watched as you broke off a piece with your fingers, the stream curling between them.

"Careful." He murmured, catching your wrist before you could burn yourself. His thumb brushed against the delicate skin of your inner wrist - just ince - before releasing you. "It's hotter than it looks."

You blew on the chickpea pancake before taking a bite, the flavours exploding - wood-fired crust, sea salt, rosemary. Your eyes fluttered shut. "Oh my god."

Charles lips curved as he leaned back in his chair, the wood creaking under his weight. "Told you."

Mathieu appeared with two mismatched wine glasses and a carafe of something deep ruby. "The '98 Bandol," he said pouring without asking. "Charles's favorite when he's celebrating."

You asked, accepting the glass. "And what are we celebrating."

Charles knee bumped yours under the table. "You not running screaming when i took you to a back alley."

Not long after bringing the appetizer, Mathieu comes back with two delicious plates, a tender octopus confit, handmade ravioli oozing sage butter. Charles plate looked at appetizing as yours, it's like he knew that the two of you would share them.

"I used to keep a notebook for every driver's helmet design," You admitted, swirling your wine. "Had this whole rating system. Schumacher's 2000 design? Perfect ten. Villeuve's 1997? A travesty."

Charles nearly chocked. "You rated helmets?"

"Still do." You tilted your head, studying him. "Yours is a solid eight."

"Eight?" He pressed his hand on his chest in mock outrage. "The prancing horse? The Monegasque colors? The -"

"Too busy," you interrupted, stealing a bite of his raviolli. "Sometimes less is more, Leclerc."

He caught your wrist as you pulled back, his thumb tracing the pulse point. "Next season's design," he said quietly. "You'll help me with it."

It wasn't a question.

The tiramisu arrived, dusted with cocoa powder still trembling from the impact. Charles pushed it towards you. "You first."

The first spoonful was pure bliss - espresso-soaked ladyfingers, mascarpone so light it dissolved on yout tongue. You moaned without thinking.

Charles fork clattered against his plate. When you looked up, his eyes were dark, fixed on your mouth, "You're killing me." he muttered.

You dragged your spoon through the dessert slowly deliberately. "Problem?"

"Yeah." His voice dropped an octave. "Big fucking problem."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The warm Mediterranean night wrapped around them like silk as the two of you left the restaurant, Charles fingers laced loosely with yours. The harbor lights danced on the black water, painting liquid gold across the waves.

"This way." Charles murmured, tugging you gently down a narrow alleyway away from the main streets. The cobblestones glowed under the antique iron lamps, their footsteps echoing between centuries-old buildings.

"Taking the scenic route?" You teased, your shoulder brushing his arm.

Charles smirked, his thumb tracing absent circles on the back of your hand. "Avoiding paparazzi. And...maybe showing you my favorite view."

The alley opened suddenly into a hidden terrace overlooking the entire bay. The city spilled down the cliffs like scattered diamonds, the yachts bobbing like toys in the distance. Charles leaned against the stone railing, pulling you gently in front of him, his chest warm against your breath.

"I come here when the world gets too loud." He admitted, his breath stirring your hair at the temple. His arms circled your waist, loose enough that you could pull away if you wanted. You didn't.

You leaned back into him, watching the moonlight carve silver paths across the water. "It's beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as-" He cut himself off with a quiet laugh, his nose brushing your ear. "That sounded better in my head."

You turned into his arms, your faces suddenly inches apart. "Smooth, Leclerc."

"I'm a driver, not a poet." His gaze dropped on your lips. "Though right now i'm thinking of several very creative-"

You silenced him with a finger on his mouth. "Show me the way home, hotshot."

Charles caught your finger between his teeth, biting down just hard enough to make you gasp before releasing it with a grin. "Your funeral."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The hotel hallway was too bright, too quiet after the intimacy of the night. You fumbled with the keycard, paintfully aware of Charles leaning against the wall beside the door, watching you with dark eyes.

"So," You said, the word hanging between the two of you.

"So," he echoed, pushing off the wall to stand before you. The dim lighting caught the stubble along his jaw, the faint scar above his eyebrow.

The keycard slipped from your fingers

Charles caught it before it hit the floor, his other hand coming to rest against the door beside your head. "Nervous."

"No," you lied, your breath coming faster as he stepped closer. His cologne wrapped around you - salt and something woodsy, with the faintest hint of wine.

"Liar." His nose brushed against yours, your lips a breath apart. "Tell me to leave."

Your hands found his waist, fingers curling into the soft cotton of his shirt. "Make me."

Charles made a low sound in his throat before closing the distance.

The first kiss was soft - testing, questioning. The second wasn't.

His hands cradled your jaw as he backed you against the door, his body pressing yours into the wood. You gasped as his teeth caught your lower lip, your fingers scrambling for purchase on his shoulders. The keycard dug into your palm where it was trapped between the two of you, forgotten.

"Charles-"

"Tell me to stop," he murmured againsy your mouth, though his hands were already sliding down to grip your thighs.

You arched into him instead, your nails scraping through his hair. "Never."

The elevator dinged down the hall.

Charles pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, both of you breathing hard. "Fuck," he whispered, his thumb brushing your swollen bottom lip.

You stole one last kiss before twisting the keycard from his grip. "Goodnight, Charles."

You slipped inside before any of you could change your mind, leaning against the closed door as your heart threatened to beat out of your chest. Outside, you heard Charles exhale sharply before his footsteps retreated down the hall.

Your phone buzzed into you clutch

| Char❤️ Karting. Tomorrow. Wear something you can lose.

You bit your still-tingling lips as you typed the reply. "Only if you're ready to lose too."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The private karting track nestled in the hills above Monaco smelled of scorched runber and adrenaline. You stepped out of Charles black Ferrari 812 in the golden afternoon light, squinting at the row of gleaming karts line up like racehorses at the starting gate.

"You own this place?" Your fingers tightened around the strap of your duffel bag as you took in the grandstand, the timing towers, the Ferrari-red barriers lining every corner.

Charles emerged from the driver's side, his aviator sunglasses hiding his eyes but not only his smirk. "Not own. Let's say...the manager owes me favors." He tossed you a helmet - custom-painted in matte black with a single prancing horse on the side. "You'll need this."

The helmet was lighter thank you expected. "This is carbon fiber.

"And you're avoiding the question." He stepped closer to you, his shadow falling across you. "Scared?"

You met his gaze evenly. "I grew up racing motorcross in the Australian outback. Your little go-karts don't scare me, Leclerc."

Charles grin turned funeral. "We'll see about that."

The engines screamed to life beneath them, a chorus of mechanical wasps buzzing in the pit lane. Charles had changed into a tight black racing suit, the fabric staining across his shoulders as he adjusted his gloves.

"Rules," he shouted over the noise. "First go ten laps. No bumping. No crying when you lose."

You yanked your hair into a hasty ponytail before sliding your helmet on. "Winner gets bragging rights and picks dinner."

Charles eyes darkened before his visor. "Deal."

The starting lights flashed red...red...green.

Your kart rocketed forward, the acceleration slamming your back into the seat. The wheel vibrated violently in your hands as you took the first corner flat-out, your knee brushing the concrete barrier. Charles pulled alongside at the hairpin, their wheels inches apart as you dove into the turn.

"Inside line." His voice crackled through you helmet comms.

"Eat my dust!" You braked late, forcing him wide.

By lap three, sweat trickled down your spine. Charles was relentless, drafting you on the straights, his front wheels kissing your rear bumper through the chicanes. Every time you glanced in your mirrors, there he was, his driving mirror-perfect and infuriatingly patient.

On lap seven, he made his move.

You took the sweeping right-hander too wide, just half a meter, and Charles pounced like a shark scenting blood. His kart slipped up the inside, the wheels interlocking for heart-stopping second before he pulled ahead.

"Merde!" You slammed your fist on the wheel.

Charles laugh echoed through your headset. "Told you i'd destroy you."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

You yanked off your helmet, your hair sticking on your neck in damp curls. "You cheated."

Charles was already unbuckling his racing suit, the top half tied around his waist, leaving only a sweat-darkened white t-shirt clinging to his chest. "How exactly?"

"You-" You gestured wildly. "You distracted me!"

"By being better?" He stepped closer, the scent of gasoline and warm wrapping around you. "Admit it. You liked watching me win."

Your pulse pounded in your ears. "I liked watching you sweat."

Charles gaze dropped in your mouth. "I'm sweating now."

The pit crew suddenly found something very interesting to do on the other side of the garage.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The locker room was all white tile and stream, the air thick with the scent of citrus body wash. You stood under the scalding spray, willing your racing heartbeat to slow.

The curtain rattled.

"Occupied!"

"Relax, it's me." Charles' voice, closer than expected.

You whipped around to find him leaning against the sinkoutside your stall, his reflection blurred in the fogged mirror. His shirt was off now, his torso a masterpiece of leaned muscle.

"You lost," he reminded you, tapping the tile wall with one knuckle. "Winner picks dinner, remember?"

Water suiced down your back as you glared through the mist?. "And?"

Charles smile was pure sin. "I'm starving."

The curtain yanked open.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Charles killed the Ferrari's engine, leaving on the crash of waves against the cliffs below. The leather seats creaked as he turned to you, his fingers drumming an uneven rhythm on the steering wheel.

"Come with me." His voice was oddly strained.

He led you to the edge of the lookout, where the wind whipped at your clothes. The sun hung low over the Mediterranean, painting his profile in molten gold. When he dropped to one knee, your breath caught-

"Wait!" Charles fumbled with his pocket, producing a small black box. "Before you panic - not that kind of question."

Inside lay a silver key, it's teeth grinting.

"I practiced this," he admitted, running a hand through his windswept hair. "Pierre made me do it twelve times last night. Still fucking it up."

You laughed for a moment before regaining your posture as you then focused on him.

"I don't share," Charles continued, his thumb brushing your knuckles. "Not my toothbrush, not my Playstation, certainly not my home. But i want you there. Waking up to your hair in my face, your terrible coffee mugs..." His voice cracked "So will you? Be mine officially?"

The key warmed in your palm. Somewhere below, a speedboat carved white lines into the blue.

"Only if you swear Pierre won't be best man at our wedding." you whispered.

Charles laughter echoed off the cliffs as he kissed you, his hands cradlling your face like you were the only solid thing in a spinning world. "Good because I already told Ferrari you're coming to Silverstone."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The Ferrari garage froze when you stepped inside to be supporting your now boyfriend at the practice sessions.

Mechanics paused mid-wrench. Engineers' tablets dimmed. Carlos Sainz eyebrows dissapeared under his helmet.

"Putain," someone muttered.

You clutched your "Guest of Charles Leclerc" pass like a fineline. The scent of burnt carbon fiber and warm electronics wrapped around you as you edged past the gleaming car parts.

Then - chaos.

Charles emerged from the driver's room, his fireproofs unzipped to the waist, revealing a sweat-darkened Ferrari t-shirt. His eyes lit up.

"You came." He closed the distance in three strides, ignoring the team's stares to press a kiss to your temple - just as a photographer raised his lens.

Flashbulbs erupted.

Charles, of course, was oblivious - too busy shoving ice cream cones into your hands between sessions.

"You're insufferable," you hissed as the cameras clicked outside the motorhome.

He licked a stray drop of chocolate off your wrist. "You love it."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

| INSTAGRAM POST - JUL 4th

F1Gossip

Liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 689,233 others

F1Gossip Charles Leclerc brings mystery woman into Ferrari garage (PS: it's that journalist)

View all 14,987 comments

user1 Ferrari strategists when they realize Charles new performance coach is actually his girlfriend

user2 she's so pretty

user3 she's such a clout chaser. charles could do so much better

user4 THE SAME JOURNALIST

user5 he's so down bad for her

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The media scrum surged as Charles entered, still damn with champagne. He ignored Sky Sports microphone, making a beeline for-

"Question for TrackSide Media," he announced, grinning at your stunned expression.

Reporters swarmed.

"How does it feel," Charles continued "to be my good luck charm?"

The room lost it. Flashbulbs popped like fireworks.

Your cheeks burned. "I think you did the driving, Leclerc."

"Nah." He tugged you closer, his lips brushing your ear as cameras exploded. "This one was all you."

The clip hit 10M views before the two of you even left the circuit.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

You pressed Charles against the bedroom door, your fingers tangled in his still-damp hair. "My good luck charm?"

"Oui." He nipped at your jaw. "Got a problem with that?"

You bit his earlobe, hard. "Only if you ever call me that in public again."

Charles laughed, flipping both of you so your back hit the door. "No promises."

His mouth found yours, tasting the champagne and victory. Somewhere outside, the team cheered for their golden boy's victory.

© DREAMYDRIFTS — do not translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.

[wip]

just how many official tumblr blogs are there? i just recently found out that this one and changes exists which seems less than ideal

Hey, @limelocked!

Great question! We have, we hope, a great answer for you. First up is a comprehensive list of all of current active staff blogs.

You can find ’em by simply searching each name, + @, in the search bar. (i.e., @action)

@action: Highlighting Tumblr’s long-standing social justice priorities of racial justice, mental health, equality, and beyond.

@art Exploring and featuring original artists on Tumblr.

@artistalley: Supporting local artists on Tumblr by buying directly from their storefronts.

@artistpicks: Monthly curated experience by artists and creators on Tumblr.

@best-of-reblogs: A curated collection of some of the best reblog threads on Tumblr.

@bigweekon: Tumblr’s beloved podcast highlighting recent trends, memes, and more.

@blackexcellence: A showcase of things all Black, all excellent, past and present—literature, fashion, music, historical spotlights, and beyond.

@books: Exclusive interviews and curated content from authors, publishers, and book fans.

@changes: Your go-to for new Tumblr launches, bug fixes, and updates on platform.

@creatrs: A network that connects artists, makers, and builders with brands.

@emporium: The Official Blog of the Tumblr Shop™, run by Brick Whartley back from the Island.

@entertainment: Exclusive content and features from across TV, film, and streaming.

@engineering: Behind-the-scenes work on how Tumblr engineers build Tumblr.

@fandom: Home of Fandometrics, Tumblr’s weekly ranking of entertainment properties.

@fashion: Runways to streetwear and every style in between.

@featured: Featuring exclusive content from Tumblr’s many good, good blogs.

@gaming: Exclusive and curated content across mainstream and indie games.

@getloudr An in-kind ad donation program dedicated to amplifying marginalized voices.

@happytuesday: A blog dedicated to all our Tumblr Tuesdays, posts featuring users based on a weekly theme.

@humans: A blog we use so we can reply in the notes of various posts.

@kpop: Exclusive content and a curated experience of K-Pop on Tumblr.

@labs: A way for engineers at Tumblr to experiment in public.

@music: Exclusive content and features on all your favorite musical artists.

@postitforward: Supporting the community with resources for mental health, self-care, and wellness.

@prideplus: Your home for all things LGBTQIA+ on Tumblr.

@radar: Sharing four pieces of original posts from Tumblr artists per day, hand-curated by our team from across the globe.

@staff: The ultimate source for big news, platform updates, and everything that makes Tumblr, Tumblr.

@support: News, tips, and nerdy details from Tumblr Support.

@tee: A blog from your friendly neighborhood Tumblr user, Tee.

@todayontumblr: Daily curated content around trending topics on Tumblr.

@wip: Dedicated to feedback and questions from Tumblr users to Tumblr staff.

There’s more. For our global audiences, you can find all the localized Staff blogs. They’re linked here!

We also have a carousel in the feed somewhere called “Official Blogs,” but it might be that we need to make that more obvious or provide a dedicated feed or page somewhere.

Leave that last point with us, but we hope that helps! Thanks for your question, and have a good day.

(And a tip of the hat to you, @lizzieonka! Consider them tagged)

Best,

—Caragh, Cates, and Cyle

[dpr-stay]

Cupid | LH44

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, reader is a press officer, don't think gender is stated specifically, implied sexual content, second chance romance, she is not edited, zhou guanyu does not crash, and there are swears.

WC: ~7.7k (kill me now)

I literally hate this, im so sorry. I haven't edited it because it's late but I hope it's not bad. I'll edit it tomorrow. also how is it so longgg, it was supposed to be 5k at best. (why have i written two fics about exes having dinner?)

Being Valtteri Bottas’ PR Agent was a wild ride. From being hired by him in his early days at Williams, to his successful years at Mercedes, and now at Alfa Romeo, you’d gotten to know the man through all stages of his career. You’d been there to field off questions about his declining performance at Mercedes and had been the first one to slam open the door and start yelling at him after the ‘cheated-on-his-wife’ rumours started floating around.

However, the paycheck was good and, when he wasn’t causing you to spend many nights in meetings about his public image, you didn’t mind the guy, happy to have to follow him around the world for most of the year.

The whole Formula One thing was also a bonus, you having been hooked on the sport after your Dad introduced it to you at an early age. You’d spent countless hours watching your dad watch the car’s speed by on his tv set, finally deciding to pay attention to the race after a few years. And boy, did you love it. 

You’d spent many an early birthday present forcing your parents to take you to the Grand Prix nearest to you, saving up for months to be able to afford the tickets and the travel. Something about the sport just intrigued pre-teen you, nothing to do with Michael Schumacher at all.

So, when the chance to be a F1 driver’s personal PR agent had landed on your advertisement agency’s desk, the place you had worked in the early days of your career, you had snatched it up quickly. The work started well before the start of the 2013 season, you having to meet the man himself and quickly getting adjusted to the many people you’d need to know to network for the guy. 

You’d also met Maldonado’s PR agent, one from the Williams team, who quickly brought up the ideas of doing interviews and press releases between the two drivers. You were swept into the world of the sport, beginning to get into the swing of things. 

Years passed, as did teammates, and Valtteri got signed to Mercedes alongside Lewis Hamilton. You didn’t know if your employment would carry over to Mercedes, but a team shirt and a letter letting you know about when Valtteri’s responsibilities started being mailed to your house confirmed it pretty quickly.

The atmosphere at Mercedes was more professional, though the team still treated each other as family. You’d often see engineers leaving together, going to go get drunk and celebrate Lewis’ common wins and Valtteri’s less common, but still happening, wins. 

You’d often spend hours at a time bargaining for spots for Valtteri in interviews and in PR related spots, and it worked. He was a well-known man, your job was practically done. The bosses were (finally) appeased, Valtteri was happy, and you could finally relax after years straight of stressing about social media and whatever the hell a vine was and if that was still relevant.

And then you’d gone and got yourself trapped in an elevator with Lewis Hamilton. 

Being a Mercedes employee, though only temporary, you’d met Lewis often during interviews and team meetings. However, you never really know a person until you spend five hours sitting opposite each other in a broken-down elevator, only being able to see each other by the light of your phone's flashlight, waiting for some sort of help as there was no signal.

Your conversation had started off hesitantly, you incredibly intimidated by the several-time world champion and him having a fleeting idea of who you were. The conversation had eventually fizzled out till the lift jolted, and a creaking sound echoed into the cavern of the contraption.

Your telling groan that you couldn’t hold back elicited a concerned “You alright?” from Lewis and then you eventually had to tell the professional F1 driver, who raced cars at over 200km/h every other weekend, about your fear of small spaces.

He hadn’t judged you for it, something which you thought was rather nice, and had even tried to adjust for you, moving to the very other side of the small box. Granted, your feet still touched, but you thought the sentiment was nice. 

He was more down to earth than you expected, you knew he wasn’t a prick but you weren’t expecting him to be… kind. Soon enough, after a few more questions about why you were afraid of small spaces and other questions, you both had spiraled into boundless conversation. 

You had talked about things you’d never talked about with someone, let alone a practical stranger, his soothing accent making it easier to open up to him. Things like the future and where it would take you, uncertainties about both your careers, even relationships, the type of conversations you only have trapped in a suspended metal box in the dark. 

Lewis was a fantastic person to talk to. He’d listen when he needed to and returned your conversation with equal energy, as though he actually wanted to be part of the conversation. For some reason he had decided to trust you and had talked freely to you, showing you a side that you doubted many people had seen.

Maybe it was the fact he couldn’t see your face or maybe you just gave off a trustworthy vibe. You didn’t know. All you knew was that, all of a sudden, you were one of Lewis Hamilton’s most trusted confidants. 

Even after someone had finally realised you were missing and exactly where you were, calling more firemen than necessary to bust open the lift though you supposed that’s what you were supposed to do when a ‘Sir’ was trapped in an elevator, Lewis had asked for your phone number and had continued to text you.

You’d met up a few times over the season, quickly becoming incredibly close friends who told each other everything. You’d had to deal with a few teases from Valtteri, who’d shut up when you reminded him who controlled the public’s opinion of him. 

During the off-season Lewis had invited you to come to his house for dinner. You’d went, it was lovely, and then you’d unknowingly experienced the moment of truth in your weird friendship/developing relationship. 

You’d been sitting at Lewis’s dinner table, eagerly chatting to the man about your family, leaning in closer and closer until the both of you were nearly leaning over the table. He’d cooked for you, an act you found incredibly sweet for the multi-millionaire who probably had ten private chefs on speed-dial, and you’d spent the evening wining and dining. 

You had both finished your main courses, talking about everything and anything when a loud bang had come from the upstairs of the man’s house. He glossed right over it, ignoring the loud sound. You had been about to comment on it but, at his nonchalance, you deigned not to. 

The conversation had continued, you both moving from his table to the couch he owned, which probably cost more than your salary earned you, when another loud sound, which sounded suspiciously like a bark, reverberated through his open-plan house. 

He sighed loudly at your questioning look, deciding that he couldn’t ignore it this time. He opened his mouth to speak but, before he could utter a syllable, the tapping of claws sounded against the stairs located, conveniently, in view of his living room. 

You looked up and there stood one of the largest Bulldogs you had ever seen. It was almost majestic, the way that he stood there on the steps, panting as though he’d just run a race. His brown coat was shining in the twilight glow, his muzzle a white colour in comparison to the rest of his body.

He took a few steps down the stairs, tripping on one before regaining his posture. You could only watch in wonder, mouth agape, as the beautiful beast padded down the steps and took a turn, approaching you head on.

The dog was a thing of beauty, his droopy face conveying no discernable emotion except from being tired. He slowly made his way to the couch, you doing nothing but watching as he trotted along the hardwood floors. You didn’t catch Lewis staring at you warily as you were only focused on the thing that younger you would’ve fought a clan of savage chipmunks in order to have.

The dog eventually made his way in front of you, plopping his behind down on the carpet and staring up at you questioningly. You didn’t know what emotion your face was conveying, you only knew it was very silent.

You cautiously reached a hand down to rub between his ears. After a second of your rubbing he made a gruff ‘woof’ sound and you couldn’t help it, an entranced whine releasing from your throat. Collapsing onto the floor beside the dog, you forgot about Lewis, focusing completely on the magnificent specimen of a dog. 

Roscoe, as you’d soon come to know via a fond Lewis, took to you as soon as you took to him. Within a minute the dog was letting you handle him as much as you’d like, rolling over on his back to let you get his stomach and vigorously licking your arm as you pet him. Praises spilled from your lips abound, making sure to let the bulldog know just how much of a good boy he was.

At a cough you turned from your spot on the floor to face Lewis, the radiant grin he had on his face making you feel as though you’d passed a test of sorts. Roscoe also turned to look at Lewis before turning back to you and huffing. 

He moved forward, stepping on your legs, trying to sit on you, before falling off the slope onto the carpet. You then picked him up and cuddled him, trying to keep eye-contact with Lewis as you did so. Lewis’ eyes had turned into half moons as he watched you love on his dog, his smile consuming his face.

“I’m glad he likes you, I don’t know what I would’ve done if he didn’t.” He admitted, placing his drink on a wooden table that stood beside the couch. He then slowly slid from the couch onto the floor beside you, leaning his body down till he was face-to-face with Roscoe and gave the dog a kiss.

“He’s got good taste.” You commented and Lewis released a laugh, glancing up at you.

“Me or the dog?” He asked after a second and you paused, overdramatically placing a finger on your chin and tilting your head as though you were thinking. You then shrugged and he laughed again, you not missing the incredibly familiar twinkle in his eye as he looked at you.

After that, you’d found that Lewis was a lot more eager to meet at his house. Roscoe, accompanied by the sheepish man, was bowling you over nearly every time the door was opened to you. Lewis had also made the trip to your house, though you doubted he’d seen a house as small as yours within the last ten years. He seemed to like it though, settling in quickly and even staying there when you were at work. The off-season had continued like that, casually building your relationship between his training and your many meetings with Alfa Romeo, trying to settle the discussions about your contract after Valtteri’s move.

You’d finally gotten somewhere just before the season started after having to plead to not be replaced by an inside hire, Valtteri backing you up and stating he wouldn’t race without you. Alfa Romeo had accepted and then you finally had the contract you’d wanted. 

You’d left the meeting, Valtteri in tow, before turning around and hugging the man for having your back before you both said goodbye and made your way home and to the gym respectively.

The uber ride you’d hired was peaceful, the man staring straight ahead as you looked out the window, your small apartment building coming into your view. You smiled as you saw it, thinking of the Lewis you’d left in bed that morning, having to pull yourself out before him to go to your meeting. 

The climb up the steps (the elevator didn’t work which Lewis hadn’t complained about when you’d explained it in embarrassment) had seemed to take forever no matter how fast you climbed. When you’d finally made it to your floor, you had to practically drag yourself across the hallway to your door, unlocking it with force after the lock had gotten stuck.

Immediately you could tell something was off, the place seemed colder than that morning and it didn;t have to do with the fact the thermostat had broken a few months ago. All the lights were off and there was no noise coming from within, a telltale sign that Lewis was somewhere within whether he was listening to music or talking to someone. 

That was ok, though, he might’ve been at a meeting like the one you’d had, though you doubted there would be less than 7 zero’s on his contract. But that’s the difference between a big team and Alfa Romeo, you work with what you get.

You looked to the side table, placing your keys in the bowl, noticing the absence of Lewis’ keys. But that made sense if he was at a training session or a meeting, so you continued into the apartment, losing components of your outerwear as you went. 

You’d lost your scarf and blazer as you’d made your way to your bedroom, prepared to change from your business outfit into one of Lewis’ many shirts when you opened your closet. A quick rummage and you couldn’t find any. Weird.

You checked again before moving to another part of your closet and noting the lack of his hoodies or jumpers, which was even weirder as you’d stolen a few of them last week. You turned and moved to your dresser, an old antique wooden piece you’d picked up from an op-shop a few years ago after seeing it and falling in love.

You’d opened your drawer specifically for pajamas and found everything you’d acquired through your time of living independently but Lewis’ shirts. Moving to the many drawers Lewis used specifically when he’d stay over, a small inkling of panic settled in your stomach however you ignored it and opened the drawer.

Nothing. There was nothing left in the drawer. You quickly opened all his other drawers, almost pulling them out of the dresser with the force you were applying. All of them were empty. This caused the inkling to grow to an uneasy pool. Maybe he’d taken them to wash them at his place?

You stepped back from the dressers, incredibly confused and vehemently denying the growing panic in you. You walked, not ran, into your bathroom. The lonely toothbrush sitting on the counter sent a strange feeling, almost like adrenaline, rushing through you. Opening the cupboards under the counter you noted the loss of his extra face wipes and the moisturizers he insisted on using. 

You ran to your kitchen, not seeing anything off, before slamming into the back of the couch in your open plan apartment in your haste to get into the living room. The action caused pain to ring through your shins but you barely registered it, the missing cd’s that normally sat on the table your tv was balancing on that he had insisted were better than Spotify the only thing you were focused on. 

A quick look down the hallway to the door of your apartment only furthered your dread, noticing details you hadn’t seen before. The missing stack of shoes that he normally toed-off at the door and the missing extra wallet he left on the side table in case someone broke in almost confirmed your fears.

But what really set in the fact that he’d packed up and left was the missing leash that normally hung from a hook you’d installed specifically on the back of your front door. The inscribed ‘Roscoe’ on the hook seemed almost mocking from your place on the couch, but you couldn’t really acknowledge it, the tears filling your eyes blurring your vision.

You stood up from the couch and stormed back into the bedroom, slamming the open drawers shut, not hearing the splintering of the vintage wood. You picked up your phone from your bed that you’d tossed earlier in your haste to become relaxed, and opened your messages.

He hadn’t sent anything to you explaining his leaving and when you went to send a text (‘??? Where are you’) the message that you’d been blocked popped up at the bottom of the screen. You could only stare at the screen for a second, the implications of what he’d done sending emotional shockwaves through you. 

You barked out a sardonic laugh, your hand flopping from its position in front of you to be held uselessly at your side, your phone slipping from your grasp onto the floor. The world went still for a moment before you lifted a hand to cover your vision, the tears slipping from your eyes wetting your hand.

You sat alone on your bed that had, not even 24 hours ago, contained what you had thought was your future. You couldn’t find it in yourself to be angry at this point, the grief for something that was evidently never meant to be controlling your thoughts. A long deep sigh left you before it was interrupted by a sob. And then another sob.

You ended up falling asleep alone that night, still dressed in the smart pants and white shirt you’d worn to your meeting. Your only lullaby was your sobbing, not the sound of his gentle humming, something which you kept reminding yourself of. 

Valtteri had commented that you’d seemed sad the next time he’d seen you but neither of you had addressed it past that, him knowing when to keep his mouth shut. He especially knew to shut up after the intense glare you had fixed him. 

The season had started again and, while you were prepared for your duties as a PR agent, Valtteri’s full calendar being proof enough for that, you weren’t sure you were prepared to see Lewis again. Especially after the news that he was already seeing someone else had come out a week before the first race.

You’d returned Valtteri’s knowing glance with as much strength as you could muster and promptly ignored his further pitying look, choosing to feel sorry for yourself at home that night. You’d also ignored his attempts to try to get you to talk to Tiffany, you liked the woman but you didn’t think you should burden her with your ridiculous, because that’s what it was looking back, delusions that you could’ve been something more than just a summer fling to Lewis Hamilton.

You’d successfully managed to avoid Lewis the whole first couple of races, eventually beginning to see fleeting glances of him throughout the paddock. Seeing him for the first time with his partner had hurt but, looking at her, you couldn’t exactly blame him.

She was gorgeous and, after you’d done a bit of searching, was exactly his previous type. She was wealthy and had a respectable job, someone worthy of being with him. You’d made sure to avoid him after that.

You kept on at work though, determined to be the best goddamn PR Agent Alfa Romeo had ever seen. And you were succeeding. Valtteri was getting brand deals and after more positive press around him and his dedication to the sport regardless of his company, you were finally able to relax. 

And by relaxing, you meant getting wasted at a bar. In fairness, last time you’d relaxed you’d ended up more broken hearted than you’d ever been, so releasing some steam at a bar had seemed an appropriate route.

And it was, being able to drink away your sorrows and spill your guts out to a bartender in a small rundown pub in the middle of Canada was the perfect way to unwind. You hadn’t told the whole story of course, you resented the guy for what he did to you but you didn’t want to tarnish his reputation, but it was nice to tell it to some random person who probably didn’t even understand the way you were switching between Swedish, English, and Finnish. 

You’d woken up the next morning with a heavy weight off your shoulders and a nice Canadian man in your hotel bed, sending him off with a promise to call before promptly adding his phone number to your phone. Valtteri could tell something had changed when you’d walked into his driver’s room the next day, prepared to tell him about his schedule. You greeted his questioning look with a smirk and he shook his head, a disbelieving look on his face.

You’d found that you hadn’t thought about Lewis the whole day, when you’d settled into your hotel bed the night after the race. A warm feeling had spread through you at that, the knowledge that the man no longer consumed your thoughts making you feel good inside.

The next race weekend you were ready to go, the British GP making you pumped. You weren’t so pumped when Valtteri DNF’ed and were mentally preparing answers for the Finn as the race continued, briefing him on every response you could think of in relation to the gearbox issue. Zhou Guanyu did well in his race though, so the garage was quite excited for him, even though Valtteri hadn’t finished.

When the interviews had rolled around after all of the celebrations, you were following Valtteri on the walk to his first interview, eventually stopping to the side of him as a mic was held in front of him and the cameras had started rolling. 

Typical questions such as if he was happy for his teammate and if he was happy with the car were asked, some weirder questions such as if he thought the car’s not-working had to do with some obscure political issue before eventually the interview was wrapped up and the Finn moved on to his next interview, you following him.

You could see other drivers beginning to arrive in the area, being interviewed before you quickly looked away, not wanting to see if he was close. You’d managed to avoid him thus far today, how hard could a few more hours be?

You’d thought that before you heard the faint but tell-tale bark of Roscoe and you had to force yourself not to turn around and run to the dog. Lewis had mentioned bringing the dog to his home race at some point while you were together, so you weren’t exactly surprised at Roscoe’s presence. 

Valtteri’s interview was continuing in the background of your mind as you thought over the nights you’d spent cuddled with Roscoe and Lewis. Did you miss him or Lewis more? Did Lewis even miss you?

Valtteri nudged you in the side, his eyes wide and you snapped back to reality, staring at the interviewer.

“Pardon?” You asked, politely trying to make it seem as though you just hadn’t heard them and were paying attention.

“I just asked if Valtteri preferred Mercedes or Alfa Romeo.” The interviewer filled in and you turned to Valtteri, a questioning look on your face. Surely he could handle that question? He vehemently shook his head. Alrighty then.

You brought out both your hands in front of you, prepared to gesture out an answer for Valtteri to say. But before you could a large force had pounded into your back, knocking you to the floor and landing on top of you. The weight was heavy but it was warm and… was it licking you? “Roscoe! Oh my god, I am so sorry!” A voice came from behind you.

Oh no.

While you had been mentally preparing an answer for Valtteri, Lewis had been walking around the media area, Roscoe in tow on a leash. The dog had been restless ever since he’d entered the pen, Lewis echoing that sentiment as he saw a brief glimpse of you. He wanted nothing more than to run to you but he couldn’t with media responsibilities weighing him down.

Eventually the interviewer’s fill of Roscoe was full and he was able to do a little bit of wandering around the area. Lewis had handed the leash of the now-agitated Roscoe to Angela as he went to go answer some more questions, the press incredibly curious about the dynamics of the car.

Angela, bless her soul, had tried her best to wrangle the dog, but his continuous pulling and barking was beginning to annoy some of the media. Seeing this, Angela had decided to just let the dog pull her away, Roscoe almost dragging her as he went. 

He had pulled her almost completely across the room before he got too violent and managed to rip the leash from her hands, leaving Angela stumbling in the dust as he began to run. Lewis had watched this happen, and continued to watch in horror as Roscoe ran up behind you.

One gigantic leap and you were pushed to the floor, the big bulldog nuzzling into your neck. The world seemed to almost go quiet before Angela ran over, trying to grab the collar of the rabid dog, asking if you were ok.

Lewis had started to move over, dismissing the reporter who he was talking to as he made his way to his dog and his ex-lover. He saw you roll over on the floor, a small sad smile on your face as the dog began slobbering over you. A few more steps and he was in front of you, scolding Roscoe and apologising as he effortlessly grabbed the dog’s collar and pulled him back.

You tried not to look in his eyes, knowing all your effort of trying to get over him would be null if you saw his face. You ignored the hand he extended, instead smoothing down your clothes as you sat on the floor, only pulling yourself up when he awkwardly lowered his hand, framing it as if you just didn’t see.

He knew though, he’d developed the unfortunate skill of reading you.

You didn’t look at him as you assured him you were fine and that he should continue with his interviews, only sparing a glance at Angela who looked at you with a regretful hint in her eyes. You didn’t want to think about that more than you had to, waving them off to more interviews. 

You turned around before you could see Lewis leave, thankfully not seeing the longing he had displayed over his face as he turned away, back to his interviews. 

Would you have been able to hold it together if you’d seen the look he’d shot you? No. Were you when you watched it back after the weekend? Also no.

You turned back to Valtteri, cracking a quick joke, before he got back to his interviews. You spent the rest of that day picking gravel out of your palms, trying to forget about the whole interaction. You wouldn’t let this break your progress, the handsome Canadian man in your contacts getting a ring that night as you tried to distract yourself.

After a few days of you cursing Roscoe for trying to see you while also feeling as though you should arrange some sort of custody agreement so you could see the beautiful beast, a notification had popped up on your phone. It was a recommended tweet, a news article about how Lewis had apparently split from his “new fling”. 

That sent you spiraling, questioning why on earth the algorithm had thought to show you this and wondering what you’d done wrong in your past life in order for this to be what was happening to you.

You’d only become more confused a day later, when Angela had sent you an email, saying that Lewis would like to meet up and apologise because of the media backlash. The thing was you’d seen no media backlash, people just finding the dog's enthusiasm funny. 

If there was any sort of trouble, you’d have seen it, it was your job after all, so you were left sitting on your couch, pondering what was the point of the meeting she was trying to set up.

You’d aired the email for a few days, wondering what you should do. You wanted to say yes, to talk to Lewis again and ask him what had happened, but you didn’t want to get hurt again. And you knew you’d be hurt when you saw him doing perfectly fine without you.

The fact that Angela was waiting for you to respond didn’t cross your mind till you received a text from an unknown number, politely asking you to respond. The older woman had waited till she knew you’d read the text, about five minutes, before sending a more desperate text. That had your eyebrows raising unwillingly, confused about why she had sent three “please”’s in one paragraph.

Regardless you fell victim to knowing how hard it was to try and manage a driver's personal and professional commitments and said yes. Only because you felt bad for Angela was what you kept telling yourself.

Eventually the day had come and you were dreading it, lying on your couch until the last second possible. The thought of canceling had popped through your head multiple times but it was too late now. The only way you could back out is if an emergency happened or you died on the way to the private restaurant Angela had insisted on booking, saying that even though the meeting was supposed to be platonic, it shouldn’t be aired to the public.

A deep sigh left you as you pulled yourself up and walked to your bedroom, dressing yourself in business clothes. You wanted to put effort in, but knowing that you’d definitely be embarrassed if you showed up glammed out and he showed up in a shirt and jeans, you decided against it. It was a business dinner anyway, simply to smooth over a wrong that had been committed against you. 

But it wasn’t a wrong, it was Roscoe pushing you over, which could hardly be considered a wrong and was more the dog testing the things he could get away with.

The real wrong was what Lewis had done to you. You hoped that you could get through the ordeal without talking about it, showing up and then posting a picture to Lewis’s instagram or something about how it was all good to appease the critics.

Except there were no critics, it was just Lewis wanting to have dinner with you. Or maybe it was just Angela trying to meddle. Maybe he was going to try to apologise for him ghosting you? You didn’t know if you would accept it.

You might’ve been able to accept it if he’d been honest from the start, telling you that he wouldn’t want you past the end of the break so you could quickly shut down the relationship before it started and move on with your life.

A thought that’d you always try to flush from your mind sprung to the front of it as you wondered. Maybe you were being too harsh. You’d never explicitly expressed what you were, maybe you had just been overthinking it the whole time you were together. Or rather, not together. 

But that would’ve been unfair to you anyways, you reassured yourself. Him letting you get a taste of his future before exempting you from it was a cruel thing to do to anyone.

A ring from your phone let you know that you should’ve been out the door at this point. You quickly cursed before grabbing your essentials and running to your entryway, pulling your shoes on, before grabbing your keys from the side table. 

After locking your door, you ran down the stairs to your apartment building and hailed a taxi. Luckily traffic wasn’t too bad, so you were able to arrive at the restaurant on time, quickly hurrying inside and getting led to your table.

You never had to worry about being late though, as Lewis wasn’t there when you got to the private booth. It was fine, he came from the other side of town so he’d probably only be a few minutes late.

It was about twenty minutes later you’d sighed and decided to ring Angela. Ironically, she didn’t pick up. You couldn’t help the bark of a laugh that left your throat, shaking your head at the sad reality of your situation.

Ghosted by two members of Mercedes. Maybe it was a good idea for Valtteri to move when he had, otherwise they may have just stopped picking up the phone. You gave him ten more minutes before trying Angela again. The same response. 

At this point you were sick of being made the fool of. Perhaps it was your fault for believing your dispute could be resolved, your fault for believing you were worth showing up for. You stood up with a pressure at the back of your eyes and began the walk from the private booth all the way at the back of the swanky restaurant to the exit.

Before you got even five meters from your table, the door to the restaurant slammed open. Everyone turned to stare at the heavily breathing world champion as he took a second to recoup himself. He didn’t let himself look at anyone in the restaurant as he straightened his suit and turned to the host, who looked a little shell shocked. A quick exchange later and the host stepped back from the little podium he was stood behind. 

You quickly scampered back to your seat, making it just in time and plastering an unimpressed look over your face. Looking back up, you could see Lewis scanning all the patrons of the premises before his eyes paused and locked onto you. 

The simple action of making eye-contact, a luxury which you had refused yourself during your bump with Roscoe, sent a lick of emotion down your spine. You couldn’t exactly read his face, you didn’t know what he was choosing to display or doing unwittingly after being played by him for months, but you believed he was relieved. 

When he arrived at the table he waved off the host with a small ‘thanks’ before sitting down in the seat opposite to you. It was silent for a few seconds, you both continuing eye contact. You were trying to find anything you could recognise in his eyes while he was just looking at you, at your face. 

“I’m sorry for being so late.” He spoke finally, a slight tilt growing at the corners of his lips. You didn’t respond and the awkwardness won him over after a few more seconds, something that was quite uncharacteristic of him. He coughed.

“The lift wouldn’t work, I’d left my keys, then no one would pull over. I tried to call you but my phone died, so I just ran trying to get here.” He said and averted his eyes, a mannerism you’d recognised as a nervous tick the couple of times you’d seen it. You didn’t know how to reply so you let your emotions take hold.

“Your call wouldn’t have gone through.” You said blankly and he looked back to you, before chuckling awkwardly. You didn’t find it funny.

“You would’ve had to unblock me first.” You needlessly elaborated, getting some sadistic enjoyment out of the way the man squirmed. He continued his awkward laughing, you joining in to laugh sardonically.

You didn’t know where this feeling, of needing him to a sliver of the uncomfortableness he’d caused you, had come from. The feeling you got from his discomfort wasn’t pleasure though, it felt empty as though it was pointless in the long run. You supposed it was, he wouldn’t remember you in a few years and your small petty actions wouldn’t even matter when he married the princess of some country. 

He cleared his throat, drawing your attention from your musings to his face.

“I wanted to apologise.” He stated bluntly and you raised an eyebrow. Yeah, no shit. He caught your expression and winced. 

“I should’ve had Roscoe on a tighter leash and not have given him to Angela. It was my fault-” You tuned him out as he continued, shaking your head in disbelief. Yeah sure, it was why the meeting had been arranged, but you’d genuinely thought he might’ve talked about the elephant in the room at some point. Maybe you were judging harshly though. Maybe after a few minutes he’d start talking about the model he’d piped the other day or the Albanian billionaire who wanted to be his sugar mommy.

You’d forgotten that he could read you like a book and had stopped when he realised you were no longer paying attention. He reached over the table to wave a hand in front of your eyes, an action that was very rude, and you reacted accordingly. You turned to face him, affronted, and he smiled at your expression before his face turned serious and he breathed a deep breath.

“I didn’t know if you’d want to talk about what had happened.” He said finally, staring down at the table, and you scoffed, crossing your arms in front of your buttons. You started to talk, the words leaving your mouth before you could properly think about them, hurt blurring your thoughts.

“Of course I would love to recount the time I came home and I found my place ransacked.” You said, the fakeness of your enthusiasm leaking into your words causing him to flinch.

“I’d love to talk about the messages I sent you before I realised I’d been blocked. Sure, let’s talk about how, not even two weeks after telling me you thought we’d have a future together, you’d completely left me, without a word of discussion.” You finally let out, almost strangling your throat closed so as to not let more of the hurt out. This was a work-related dinner after all and you didn’t want to draw more attention than Lewis already had.

His face had fallen, an incredibly unfamiliar look coating his face and you tried to stop yourself before you spoke, trying to tame the biting uncertainties in your head.

“Was it because I’d moved companies?” You questioned and he looked up. “Should I not have followed Valtteri?” Your question floated in the air and he shook his head, a sorrowful expression taking over his face.

“Then why?” You asked after a second and he paused, not responding. You, tired of his silence, thought about all the reasons you’d gone over in your head, and settled on the one that made the most sense to you. Looking back, it was probably the most unrealistic, but it made sense to the angry and sad mindset you had.

“Was it because I couldn’t afford everything?” His head snapped up, shock colouring his features. “I could’ve moved to a new apartment if it bothered you, having to stay over at my place. I knew you didn’t do a lot of things that break because I couldn’t pay, but you could’ve told me if you wanted to. I do have a savings account I could’ve dipped into.” You said quietly, looking down at the table, all the fight having been sapped from your body. 

You were tired. You didn’t know what the time difference was between you and Canada, but you were sure that you could set an alarm and wake up to spill your guts to the stranger, it was better than telling anyone you knew. 

Lewis called your name but you didn’t look up from the table, hoping to not see any form of confirmation in his eyes. He reached a hand over the table, this time to not be rude but to lift your chin up and look in your eyes. He contemplated for a second before speaking softly.

“I thought it was what you wanted.” He said and you reared back, completely shocked before he continued.

“You kept going to meetings with Alfa Romeo and I thought it was your subtle way of telling me to fuck off. You know, that you had more important things to worry about than a driver from your old company. We’d never talked about what we were and I just thought…” He paused for a second here, furrowing his eyebrows as he looked at the wall before looking back into your eyes.

“I thought I could bite the bullet, leave before you could tell me to go. And it worked in the end, you’ve been doing exceptionally well. I haven’t seen a bad story about Valtteri in months.” He said and withdrew his hand as he leaned back against the chair behind him.  You processed his words for a moment before he cleared his throat, drawing you back to look at him.

“I would never, by the way.” He disclosed quietly and you tilted your head. He continued. “I don’t mind if you have the money or not, for that break your apartment was the best place for me.” 

The use of the present tense threw you off for a second, leaving you to rearrange yourself in your seat and clear your throat as you thought of a response. You couldn’t, opening your mouth but no words coming out. He’d stunned you into silence. You finally found your voice after steeling yourself for a second. “W-what about umm… what was her name?” You asked, a stutter permeating your words. He just sighed, letting his head fall slack to stare at the table. 

“It was a mistake.” He said quietly, and guilt for the poor girl rushed through you. “I thought that after I’d let you go I should at least try to find something as a replacement.” He looked up at you.

“I couldn’t though, no one could match to you. But I couldn’t leave her without a reason.” 

He leaned further back in his seat, his voice terse as he spoke. “She gave me plenty of reason after I caught her in bed with her ex.” You winced at the tone of his voice and gave him a second to collect his thoughts. Even if he was trying to break it off, it’s never a good feeling to be cheated on. 

You spoke up after a second, trying to clear the silence between you and deciding he should know about your fling after you’d ended if this dinner was going to way you thought it was.

“I met a man in Canada.” You said hesitantly and you saw his shoulders drop.

“Oh.” He said quietly, before shaking himself out as if he was a cat and plastering a smile on his face. Lewis made eye-contact and asked you a question.

“What’s his name?” Fake-enthusiasm permeated his question, as though he was trying to hide his disappointment. 

You didn’t want to address that, though you knew you had to. Could you take him back? You didn’t know for sure if he would leave you again, which scared you. The whole idea of taking him back scared you, though the thought of more time with him that wasn’t spent trying to avoid looking his way made you hopeful. You tried not to feel that way, knowing that you shouldn’t base your happiness on the man.

But he had apologised and explained his reasoning. As much as you wanted to curse him out for not talking with you, it did make sense. Feelings of inadequacy were present in every person, no matter how remarkable they were.

Look at you, already being hypocritical over your own words. You’d said you didn’t know if you’d take him back, but now you were already planning it. Was that pathetic? You didn’t like to think it was, but maybe you were wrong, ignoring your dignity in favour of the man.

God, if only the world was more simple and less complicated. If only you hadn’t gotten locked in an elevator, if only Roscoe hadn’t been as adorable as he was, if only you’d said no to this dinner. If only you’d just talked about your feelings from the start instead, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.

Too late now though, you supposed, snapping back to the present and leveling eye-contact with Lewis. You contemplated your words, knowing they’d probably either be the start or the end of your time with him.

“I don’t remember.” You said finally, staring at Lewis’ face as a smile that he tried to contain spread over it.

“You don’t remember his name?” He asked, almost trying to confirm his words and you shook your head. He couldn’t control his smile, trying to mask it behind a cough. You only started to grin in response, looking into his eyes as they slowly turned back into half-moons.

A cleared-throat startled you both out of your bubble and you turned to the waiter, who looked as if he had just watched a soap opera play out in front of him. He awkwardly held out menus to the both of you and you quickly accepted them, apologising for making him stand awkwardly for so long.

When he’d left you both had looked at each other and exchanged smiles. The dinner had continued and it was as lovely as Lewis himself. That is to say, very lovely. 

After paying and making the walk to Lewis’ house, you both stumbled into Lewis’ abode, not able to keep your hands off of each other. However a large obstacle had stopped you from taking it further, namely the heavy weight of the british bulldog that decided to settle himself on top of you the second you’d walked through the door.

You could barely hear Lewis’s laughter over the sound of Roscoe licking the side of your face, you muffling your own laughter into the carpet. 

When you’d next seen Valtteri, he’d only taken one glance at your neck before shooting you a smirk, the knowing glance he had on his face making you roll your eyes as you pushed him to his interviews.

i got stuck halfway through but i just wanted it overrrr. Hopefully it's not too bad, let me know in the comments.

[probablyasocialecologist]

When you look at Instagram or Facebook, I want you to try and think of them less as social networks, and more as a form of anthropological experiment. Every single thing you see on either platform is built or selected to make you spend more time on the app and see more things that Meta wants you to see, be they ads, sponsored content, or suggested groups that you can interact with, thus increasing the amount of your “time spent” on the app, and increasing the amount of “meaningful interactions” you have with content. I also want you to realize that anything bad that you see on the platform is a symptom of Mark Zuckerberg’s unwillingness to rate-limit or sufficiently moderate the platform. Logically-speaking, one would think that Meta would want you to have a high-quality Facebook experience, pruning content that might be incendiary, spammy, scammy or unhelpful, or at the very least, comes primarily from those within your own network, but when your only concern is growth, content moderation is more of an emergency measure.  And to be clear, this is part of Meta’s cultural DNA. In an interview with journalist Jeff Horwitz in his book Broken Code, Facebook’s former VP of Ads and Partnerships Brian Bolland said that “building things is way more fun than making things secure and safe…[and] until there’s a regulatory or press fire, you don’t deal with it.”  Horwitz also cites that Meta engineers’ greatest frustration was that the company “perpetually [needed] something to fail — often fucking spectacularly — to drive interest in fixing it.” Horwitz’s book describes Meta’s approach to moderation as “having a light touch,” considering it “a moral virtue” and that the company “wasn’t failing to supervise what users did — it was neutral.” As I’ve briefly explained, the logic here is that the more stuff there is on Facebook or Instagram, the more likely you are to run into something you’ll interact with, even if said interaction is genuinely bad. Horwitz notes that in April 2016, Meta analyzed Facebook’s most successful political groups, finding that a third of them “routinely featured content that was racist and conspiracy-minded,” with their growth heavily-driven by Facebook’s “Groups You Should Join” and “Discover” features, algorithmic tools that Facebook used to recommend content. The researcher in question added that “sixty-four percent of all extremist group joins are due to our recommendation tools.” When the researcher took their concerns to Facebook’s “Protect and Care” team, they were told that there was nothing the team could do as “the accounts creating the content were real people, and Facebook intentionally had no rules mandating truth, balance or good faith.” Meta, at its core, is a rot economy empire, entirely engineered to grow metrics and revenue at the expense of anything else. In practice, this means allowing almost any activity that might “grow” the platform, even if it means groups that balloon by tens or hundreds of thousands of people a day, or allowing people to friend 50 or more people in a single day. It means allowing almost any content other than that which it’s legally required to police like mutilation and child pornography, even if the content it allows in makes the platform significantly worse.  As a result, Meta is kind of like an absentee parent, occasionally looking up from their phone and muttering “don’t do that” when something obviously awful happens, and even then they’re extremely hesitant to intervene. 

[codingquill]

Why is landing an Internship as a Computer Engineering/Computer Science Student so hard ?

Hey there, dear coders!

I apologize for my long absence—life caught me off guard with a lot of work and projects. Now that I finally have some time, I wanted to make a post to connect with you all. Thank you so much for 1,000 subscribers! I know maintaining a community requires consistent posting, and I feel like many of you might have forgotten about me. But I promise to make something big out of this. I've been thinking about starting a newsletter where you can receive weekly emails from me, discussing something I learned that week or anything that intrigued me and I felt like sharing.

Now, back to our question: Is it really hard to land an internship as a computer science student? The answer is yes, and as a computer engineering student myself, I can attest to this.

I've often wondered why it's so difficult. After some observations, I discovered that almost every computer science student's resume looks the same. The portfolios are nearly identical, lacking uniqueness. If you've studied at the same school as your friends, what would make a recruiter choose you over them?

This is where uniqueness and a sense of self come in. Your portfolio or website should reflect exactly who you are as a person and highlight your strengths.

The second crucial factor is dedication. I've had classmates who are extremely dedicated. They might not have any special skills, but they show immense interest in what they want to do. This drive is palpable, and recruiters can sense it too.

Sometimes, the resume isn't even the most important aspect. For big companies like Oracle, what you say and know during the interview and technical tests matters more. The resume is just the very first step.

So, what I've learned along the way can be summed up in two words: uniqueness and dedication.

Now how to Create the Perfect Resume to Land an Internship as a Student ?

1. Keep the design simple:

Avoid extra designs or too many colors. While uniqueness is important, recruiters generally do not favor overly designed resumes.

2. Structure your resume properly:

- The Resume Header

Contact Information:

Full name and title: List your first and last name. Use the title of the role you want instead of your current title.

Professional email address: Use a clean format like firstname.lastname@gmail.com.

Phone number: Choose the number you check most frequently. Record a professional voicemail greeting if yours is too casual.

Address: List only your city and state. Let recruiters know if you're willing to relocate if applicable.

LinkedIn or other professional social media: Include your LinkedIn profile if it's active and relevant. List any portfolios or computer engineering-related sites.

- The Resume Summary

A paragraph where you describe yourself by answering these questions:

What is your professional style? (Use one or two descriptive words such as patient, critical thinker, consensus builder, excellent designer.)

What is your greatest engineering strength?

What will you add to this particular team?

What is your process for building and maintaining computer networks?

What are you proudest of in your career?

Example:

Motivated computer engineering student with a strong foundation in software development and solid analytical and problem-solving skills. Looking for an opportunity to enhance my skills in a challenging professional environment.

- The Employment History Section

Be specific about how you contributed to each position and the impact you made.

List the job title, organization name, dates of employment, and 3–6 bullet points showcasing your achievements.

Start each bullet point with a strong action verb like collaborated or designed.

Highlight significant achievements rather than just listing responsibilities.

If you have no experience, include a projects section. This will act as your experience. Highlight how you worked on each project and your passion for it.

- The Skills Section

Combine hard and soft skills. The skills section is often the first place recruiters look to ensure you have the key abilities they're seeking. Your entire resume should support the skills you list here.

- The Education and Certifications Section

List your education, including any relevant courses or special achievements during your degree. Also, mention any certifications you have, whether from freeCodeCamp, Google, Coursera, etc.

By following these tips, you can create a resume that stands out and showcases your unique strengths and dedication. Good luck with your internship search, and remember to stay true to yourself!

[demifiendrsa]

Valve has released a 25th anniversary update for Half-Life.

Half-Life is free to own on Steam until November 20, 2023 10AM PT / 1PM ET.

Overview

BRAND NEW INTERVIEWS WITH THE HL1 DEV TEAM!

We got the band back together to celebrate this anniversary, and we invited the fine people at Secret Tape to film it all happening. Getting together after all this time was the perfect opportunity to revisit the game as it existed in its earliest forms, and to talk about how and why it eventually took shape the way it did. Check out the film to see what it was like to be a part of the team, way back then.

THE 25TH ANNIVERSARY UPDATE FOR HALF-LIFE INCLUDES:

HALF-LIFE UPLINK

Originally released as a CD exclusive for magazines and hardware manufacturers, this mini-campaign was built by the Half-Life team right after the game went gold. As this was many people's first experience with Half-Life, we thought it was finally time to bundle it with the main game—no sound card purchase necessary.

4 NEW MULTIPLAYER MAPS

Built by Valve level designers, these new maps push the limits of what's possible in the Half-Life engine.

CONTAMINATION

Two-foot-thick steel doors block off access to this contaminated waste facility, which has questionable scientific goals at best. Strap on a gluon gun and roast all intruders.

POOL PARTY

Enjoy a relaxing stay at this abandoned Xen outpost built around a cluster of soothing healing pools free-floating in space. How do you breathe here? It doesn't matter!

DISPOSAL

Processing Area 3, a massive radioactive waste plant gone quiet. Tons of room for you and your colleagues to do experiments with a Tau Cannon or some hand grenades.

ROCKET FRENZY

The creaking weight of this decaying orbital satellite launch facility somehow feels familiar… If we could switch on the oxygen lines, power, and fuel, we might just be able to light this candle.

UPDATED GRAPHICS SETTINGS

Play the game the way it looked in 1998, but on a modern monitor.

Widescreen field of view!

Option to disable texture smoothing on the GL renderer!

Lighting fixes including the long-lost GL Overbright support!

Software rendering on Linux! Crisp colors, animated water, and unfiltered textures!

CONTROLLER AND STEAM NETWORKING SUPPORT

A proper gamepad config out of the box!

Added support for Steam Networking! Invite your friends or join games instantly with no fuss.

STEAM DECK SUPPORT!

We finally put our game through our own “Verified” tests, and... we failed super hard. So we fixed it! After re-testing the game, Half-Life gets to officially wear the green checkmark.

Now you can play Half-Life on the best handheld gaming computer in the world in glorious 800p with improved controls and UI.

UI SCALING SUPPORT FOR HIGHER RESOLUTIONS

The entire UI has been reworked to scale at larger screen sizes. We built most of this stuff for 640x480 CRTs and apparently some of you have upgraded since then.

RESTORED CONTENT

We brought back the classic Valve logo video with its iconic music and reskinned the menu to match the 1998 build.

IVAN THE SPACE BIKER AND PROTO-BARNEY

After all this time we finally shipped the original heroes from the alpha builds of Half-Life, available as multiplayer skins!

AS WELL AS THESE RARELY-SEEN EXTRAS!

In 1999, Valve released a CD called Half-Life: Further Data at retail stores, and we're finally including much of that content.

THREE MULTIPLAYER MAPS

Double Cross

Rust Mill

Xen DM

TWO MP PLAYER MODELS

The Half-Life: Further Data CD also included some multiplayer skins made by the original team; we've brought back this incredible skeleton (now with tintable eyes!) and fan-favorite Too Much Coffee Man.

DOZENS OF SPRAYS

While playing a bunch of multiplayer matches we kept wanting more sprays... So we grabbed several megabytes of them from the Further Data release!

BUG FIXES AND CHANGE NOTES

New Content

Now Verified on the Steam Deck (and our native Linux runtime has been set as the default).

Half-Life: Uplink — the original standalone Half-Life demo — has been added to the game, and is accessible through the "New Game" menu.

Added four all-new Half-Life Deathmatch maps: contamination, pool_party, disposal, and rocket_frenzy

Added three old Half-Life Deathmatch maps formerly available only on the "Half-Life: Further Data" CD: doublecross, rust_mill, xen_dm.

Added Ivan the Space Biker, Prototype Barney, Skeleton, and Too Much Coffee Man as player models to Half-Life Deathmatch.

Added dozens of new sprays formerly available only on the "Half-Life: Further Data" CD.

Added support for Steam Networking, allowing easy multiplayer via Steam's Join Game and Invite features.

Added support for Steam Friends Rich Presence, allowing your friends to follow your journey through Black Mesa.

Nostalgia

Brought back the original Valve Intro video. Can be skipped with the "-novid" launch command.

Updated main menu to a design inspired by the game's original 1998 main menu.

Changed the default models to the original (non "HD") models.

Gameplay Changes

Improved physics for throwing grenades.

Improved randomness for initial spawn points in multiplayer.

Improved satchel charge controls: primary fire now always throws a new satchel, and secondary fire always detonates.

Fixed push-able entity movement being based on framerate.

Fixed players with high framerates freezing in place on death in multiplayer.

Fixed some cases where the player could get stuck in place on level transitions.

Fixed some cases where characters would interrupt important dialogue with their "greetings" dialogue.

Fixed weapon view-bob angles.

Fixed red barrels at the start of Surface Tension not launching as intended.

Fixed Snarks attacking FL_WORLDBRUSH entities (such as func_walls).

Fixed players sometimes failing to deploy a snark while crouching and looking down.

Fixed certain convars ("pausable" and "sv_maxspeed") being set to incorrect values when entering a singleplayer game after a multiplayer game.

Fixed singleplayer auto-aim setting being changed when entering a multiplayer game that disallows auto-aim.

Fixed the flashlight HUD showing empty after loading a savegame.

Fixed rockets in CONTENTS_SKY not always detonating.

Fixed incorrect bullet impact sounds for NPCs.

Fixed gauss gun making a loud static noise if it was charged across level transitions.

Fixed a crash in mods that display keybinds in their UI.

Fixed singleplayer weapons not auto-switching away when exhausted (grenades / snarks / satchels / etc)

Fixed interpolation artifacts when animated models are moved by other entities.

Fixed some buffer overflow exploits.

UI Changes

Main-menu background and buttons have been reskinned, and now scale based upon screen resolution without stretching, supporting background image layouts up to 3840x1600.

In-Game HUD now uses double or triple sized sprites when playing at higher resolutions.

UI dialogs and in-game fonts now scale to improve readability at high screen resolutions.

In-Game HUD HEV suit display has been shifted to the left of the screen, and no longer changes position at larger screen resolutions.

Added an "Enable texture filtering" setting.

Added an "Allow widescreen Field of View" setting to correct non-anamorphic FOVs, for widescreen and ultrawide displays.

Re-organized all the Settings screens to improve legibility, and support controller navigation.

Updated the Pause menu to be aware of the current gameplay mode.

The default server name and multiplayer player name are now based on the player's Steam Persona.

The Steam platform menu has been removed, now that all its features are in Steam itself.

Fixed application icon rendering incorrectly when using the software renderer.

Fixed player and spray images not updating their coloring on the settings screen.

Removed the now very unnecessary "Low video quality. Helps with slower video cards." setting.

Input Changes

Improved support for keyboard and controller navigation everywhere.

Added "Lower Input Latency" option: Synchronizes the CPU and GPU to reduce the time between input and display output.

Fixed issues that caused jerky mouse / joystick input.

(We basically rewrote it all - if you've got a custom Steam Input controller configuration, you should rebuild it from our newly published Official Configuration).

Multiplayer Balancing

Increased the 357 damage from 40 → 50.

Hive Hand reload time has been reduced from 0.5s → 0.3s per shot, and it will be selected at higher priority than the pistol on pickup.

MP5 now always starts it with full ammo when picked up.

Players no longer drop empty weapons, and any that are dropped are reloaded by what's in the dying player's backpack.

Improved client-side prediction to reduce "ghost shots". Like Counter-Strike, consider hitboxes and not just bounding boxes for hits on the client.

Fixed network predicted crowbar swing damage being incorrect.

Rendering

Added supported for UI Sprites and Texture files larger than 256x256.

Added support for UI Font special render modes: "blur" and "additive".

Added setting to turn off texture filtering when using the OpenGL renderer.

Default resolution is now based on the resolution of the desktop, instead of a 640x480 window.

Default gamma has been decreased from 2.5 → 2.2, now that we aren't all playing on CRTs.

Software renderer will now correctly filter out incompatible resolutions, unless there is only 1 resolution available on the display.

Restored OpenGL overbright support.

Fixed fullscreen software renderer crashing on systems that don't support 16-bit color.

Fixed software renderer being stretched when using widescreen resolutions.

Fixed skyboxes and sky color incorrectly carrying over when transitioning maps in multiplayer.

Fixed the game appearing too dark after modifying video settings.

Fixed MSAA in windowed mode.

Fixed mipmap rendering on studio models.

Fixed gluon gun sprite rendering in multiplayer.

Fixed gluon gun sinusoidal noise being incorrect.

Various optimizations to support the newly increased engine limits.

OpenGL optimizations for the Steam Deck.

Engine Improvements for Mod Makers

Increased maximum limit of dynamic sound channels from 8 → 32.

Increased maximum limit of sentences in the sentences.txt file from 1536 → 2048.

Increased maximum number of entities (MAX_EDICTS) from 900 → 1200.

Increased MAX_PACKET_ENTITIES increased from 256 → 1024.

Increased MAX_GLTEXTURES from 4800 → 10000.

Increased software renderer geometry limits: max spans 3000 → 6000, max surfaces 2000 → 4000, and max edges 7200 → 14400.

Cycler and func_button entities can now be the entity target for scripted_sentence entities, and are allowed to speak in multiplayer.

Incorporated func_vehicle entity support from Counter-Strike, for mod-makers to use. Full SDK update will come later, but level designers can use it now.

Native Linux Build

Added support for the software renderer.

Improved font rendering.

Many stability and behavior fixes.

Other

Localization files updated.

Miscellaneous security fixes.

Notes

The previous version of the game has been archived to a publicly visible Beta branch named "steam_legacy", with the description "Pre-25th Anniversary Build." If a mod or feature is behaving in an unexpected way, you may need to run this archived build until the issue is resolved in the default build.

We now consider this anniversary version of Half Life to be the definitive version, and the one we'll continue to support going forward. Therefore, we'll be reducing the visibility of Half Life: Source on the Steam Store. We know Half-Life: Source's assets are still being used by the Source engine community, so it'll remain available, but we'll be encouraging new Half-Life players to play this version instead.

WALLPAPERS

Celebrate 25 years of Half-life by decorating your desktop and mobile phone.

[wordpress-blaze-241425893]

Midjourney Video

With the release of video (silent) on Midjourney, I just can't stop trying to generate images to animate! It's exceptionally easy, but some formats work better than others. Tutorial.

https://videopress.com/v/lSu3UXal?resizeToParent=true&cover=true&loop=true&playsinline=true&preloadContent=metadata&useAverageColor=true

https://videopress.com/v/ATrZHeC9?resizeToParent=true&cover=true&loop=true&playsinline=true&preloadContent=metadata&useAverageColor=true

https://videopress.com/v/HM4jFd1H?resizeToParent=true&cover=true&loop=true&playsinline=true&preloadContent=metadata&useAverageColor=true

https://videopress.com/v/44IogZpY?resizeToParent=true&cover=true&loop=true&playsinline=true&preloadContent=metadata&useAverageColor=true

Source: Midjourney Video

[puncromancer]

Work has this mentorship program where you get paired with a guy that's been with the company a lot longer than you and you tell them what you wanna work on and they help you. For mine I was like look I've been tossed to the winds of mercy by myself for this five year contract that's half up now and I have no idea what's gonna happen once the contract is up (I mean I'm pretty sure the customer is just gonna renew and I'll be stuck here again but you never know).

So one my boss basically forced me to sign up for the mentorship program, I did and told my mentor all that and he's like cool you work with microsoft products so let's fucking talk to the head of the microsoft team. We schedule this meeting to introduce me to him and i'm nervous as all get out, I've been studying interview questions for the past week to ask him about. We tell him my spiel and he's immediately like well its the end of our fiscal year so I can't add you to my team and my mentor's like well he's got time to wait though and he just kinda hummphs at that and I ask stuff about if the skills on his team overlap or if people are specialized and he says well i wouldn't hire a specialist everyone has to be able to be good at at least three things and then lists off some fields his team handles. And then later my mentor asks what skills he thinks I should brush up on to be successfully and he's like well ai is the hotness right now so should definitely look into that (notably is not one of the skills his department handles) so I'm like okay hint duly received dude hates me and shouldn't bother trying to apply with his department later.

The one thing that went pretty well during the interview thing was when I mentioned what customer I was on he was like oh one of my engineers is on that engagement. And it's the guy I work the most closely with the senior engineer that I help out on the regular and he teaches me stuff all the time. So the bossman is like make sure to sponge up anything that engineer has to offer because he's one of my best.

Talked with that engineer this morning in one of our many calls together and he's like so heard you were talking to my boss's boss the other day? And I was like yeah my mentor introduced me how'd you find out about that? And he's like oh just had a random checkin with him and he asked me about you and he mentioned he thinks you have a lot of potential and I agreed with him. Glad to see you're started networking around here just realized it's probably hard for you because this engagement is a weird one so you don't have a proper team to prop you up. And then he asked me what I was most interested in, told him it was Intune and that's why I had asked him to tutor me in it and then he sent me a bunch of documents on it and said well let's make that happen then.

[aeolianblues]

nvm, fucked. I have two very different careers as yous surely know by hearaing me whine over the years, they are incompatible with each other. LinkedIn doesn't let you create multiple accounts under the same name and I think they've removed my radio/music journalist profile. Great. I have to send an article pitch to a music magazine today for a review. Should I be fucking sending it from the profile of a career software developer? How the fuck does that make any sense?

If I list too many of my music and radio projects on LinkedIn, the already so fickle software industry is going to pass me over for not being 'focused enough'. I cannot, in any capacity beyond a benign hobby list my radio work, my magazine, the hours I have spent as a music journalist, the press coverage I have officially done, none of that can be shown as serious work on my LinkedIn or else I risk getting passed over for computer science jobs. Which I am currently applying for.

LinkedIn says 'don't split your network! Expand your network'. The record label heads I talk to do not need to know my data engineering team lead. More importantly, HE does not need to know the label bosses. He doesn't need to know that network. He doesn't even know I DO things outside of my working life, he just thinks I'm a good and benign student that maybe watches a TV show and hangs out with my friends or whatever else kids these days do. If he or the company I work for ever thought there was a chance I was 'distracted' by my other career or wasn't 'serious' or 'fully dedicated' to my current corporate job, or if there was any hint that I might not be available for later hours because I'm doing anything that is unnegotiable to move, they'd get rid of me to get a more available crony.

You think I'm being paranoid? I have interviewed young professionals with my manager in a previous role. She wanted me to ask questions about their home life and hobbies because 'we don't want someone unmotivated who just sits around playing video games all evening after work'. As if that is of any relevance to their jobs! If they ever thought I was involved in the unscrupulous music industry, they'd think lowly of me. This is corporate we are talking about! The same people that say insane shit like 'when you step out of your workplace, even when you are not working, you represent our company and values'. You want me to add music industry people to THAT network??

On the other hand, I need to reach out to this guy who is ex-CBC, but had a very influential hand in setting up some shows that I am very interested in. He told me to reach him on LinkedIn. I'm in despair man, I can't just message him from an account that says '[tumblr user aeolian blues' name], Computer Scientist.' He's a busy guy. He's never going to even click to open my connect request this way, which is very frustrating. I don't go by my full name in music, this is both a defence mechanism against the very same 'you represent us outside work' thing, as well as something completely accidental because that's now how other people introduce me. He was really impressed with me when I spoke to him too, and said please reach out and connect with me, and it's such a shame that I will most likely lose the opportunity to do that.

Anyway, thanks LinkedIn for potentially ending my career. Got too ambitious, didn't we? Should've just taken the extremely well-worn path and just been a career corporate person. That's who LinkedIn is designed for anyway, the rest of us don't exist in the eyes of the office-dwelling software idiots that design these tools and programs.

[usafphantom2]

NGAD EXCLUSIVE: Air Force secretary cracks door for unmanned next-gen fighter

In an interview with Breaking Defense, Frank Kendall suggested the Next Generation Air Dominance (NGAD) fighter decision is farther off than estimated, as the service rethinks the threat landscape.

Michael Marrow

Lockheed Martin Skunk Works concept art of a sixth-generation fighter

Lockheed Martin Skunk Works concept art of a sixth-generation fighter. (Lockheed Martin)

FARNBOROUGH AIRSHOW 2024 — Amid a revolution in air combat, the head of the US Air Force said Saturday he’s “reasonably confident” America’s next-generation fighter aircraft will have a pilot, leaving the door open, however slightly, for a radical departure from a fully manned system.

“I’m confident there’s going to be a sixth-generation fighter. I’m reasonably confident that it’s going to be crewed,” Kendall told Breaking Defense in an exclusive interview over the weekend.

That the Air Force is seemingly unsure whether the aircraft will need a pilot, and presumably a cockpit to house them, suggests the service may need to revisit even the most basic requirements for its Next-Generation Air Dominance (NGAD) fighter, even as it had originally planned to award a contract for the aircraft sometime this year. Speaking broadly of potential changes, Kendall said it would be “reasonable” to conclude the Air Force needs to go back to do a more substantive analysis on the NGAD’s design and capability requirements.

“We’re having conversations right now about what to do and how to move forward,” Kendall said, pushing back on recent comments by Air Combat Command boss Gen. Ken Wilsbach that a down select for NGAD was likely coming in 2024. “What [Wilsbach] said is not the last word on that.”

Kendall has recently raised the prospect of serious changes to NGAD, suggesting in previous interviews that the Air Force was working to ensure the service has the right concept — and for a reasonable price. Expanding on his thinking, Kendall said a key consideration is the overall price encompassing the air vehicle and engine, noting that the powerplant is “just a piece of it” and “not by itself a big driver.”

RELATED: GCAP partners showcase new concept for next-gen fighter jet based on evolved design

Floating the potential for an unmanned NGAD in the wake of his comments about the need to redesign the jet may set off alarm bells among the Air Force’s infamous “fighter mafia,” who take great pride in the service’s pilot tradition. But, analyst J.J. Gertler of the Teal Group said, it is a sign that Kendall is taking a serious approach to considering all his options to avoid “driv[ing] the team in one direction or another.”

“We knew that [the Air Force was] reconsidering the design of the system; we knew that they were measuring at least twice before cutting checks. Like any good pilot, they are running through a final checklist before getting in the air,” Gertler said.

And, he wrote in email, it makes sense to at least consider an optionally manned design because “really any modern combat air system that is not designed to be uninhabited is still optionally crewed.”

For example, modern technology like networking and fly-by-wire controls means “it doesn’t matter where the operator is sitting. In fact, the decision to make a platform inhabited drives the design and capabilities much more than a decision to make it uninhabited. So in a very real sense, uninhabited becomes the default unless there is a reason to put a person in the platform,” Gertler said.

Air Force officials have telegraphed for years that NGAD will be expensive, with Kendall frequently using a metric of costing “multiples” of the already pricey F-35 Joint Strike Fighter. But with pressing modernization needs and ballooning costs for other critical programs, officials are now openly questioning whether their ambitions are affordable.

“If you look at what we do in our five-year plan — that is on the Hill now — to our foundational accounts in the out years, it’s clear we did something there that’s not going to be, you know, sustainable,” he said. “We’ve got to fix that problem too. So we’ve got a number of affordability issues over the five-year plan that we had to address. And we also have to go to look at and verify, if you will, that we had the right concept [for NGAD].”

Another consideration, according to Kendall, are the facilities that underpin the fighter’s operations. “The infrastructure that’s required to support an F-22 class aircraft, if you will, leads to some vulnerabilities. Runway length, for example,” he said.

Gertler observed that judging from previous comments made by officials like Kendall, “some delay in the central airframe component of NGAD not only appears likely, but is already underway.”

“It may not have been a common practice in the past, but there’s a lot to be said for designing to include reality rather than the world as it was when you started the program or as you wish it might be 40 years from now,” he added. “A procurement schedule that doesn’t allow adaptation to changing reality won’t yield a relevant system.”

SecAF Kendall speaks at SLOC

Secretary of the Air Force Frank Kendall speaks with students and guests during the Senior Leader Orientation Course at Joint Base Andrews, Md., July 24, 2023. The course provides training for newly selected brigadier generals and senior executive service members. (U.S. Air Force photo by Eric Dietrich)

An ‘Accumulation’ of Threats

Since the advent of the F-22 program, the Air Force’s concept for achieving air superiority has revolved around the idea of a stealthy sensor-shooter that can slip past enemy air defenses and take out threats before being detected — an operational concept the service calls “penetrating counter-air.”

Kendall said that concept hasn’t changed much since the early 1990s, when he briefed Dick Cheney, then the defense secretary, about what was considered the gravest set of threats the F-22 could face: the layered Soviet air defense systems of Syria.

But battlefields have changed in the decades since, and Kendall said the Air Force now stares down a list of Chinese threats that include increasingly sophisticated air defenses, advanced counter-stealth technologies, and new sensors and weapons built to vastly increase the range a target can be detected and destroyed.

RELATED: As Air Force deliberates sixth-gen fighter plans, much is at stake for Boeing

When asked whether a new technology had emerged that had potentially blunted the NGAD concept, Kendall characterized the growing threats as “an accumulation over time.” But he also hinted that an alternative operational concept could drive changes to NGAD requirements.

“It is natural to assume that, if you have a certain generation of something, that you’re going to go buy the next generation of that, and then it’s going to have some similar characteristics, a similar operating concept, but be better than the one you already have,” Kendall said.

“That philosophy was what drove where NGAD is headed. But we’re not up against Syria anymore. We’re not up against the Soviet Union anymore,” he said. “We’re up against China, primarily, as the pacing challenge. And we’ve got to be sure we’re doing the right thing.”

Richard Aboulafia, an aerospace analyst with AeroDynamic Advisory, noted that the Air Force’s consternation over NGAD’s operational requirements “point to the idea that true air dominance and air superiority might no longer be feasible” – an idea further underscored by both Russia and Ukraine’s difficulty establishing sustained control of the skies throughout the war in Ukraine.

“It speaks to a world where there’s a lot more lethality, there’s a lot more diffusion of threats, and there’s less of a chance of truly obliterating the other side’s air defenses, in which case your use of resources looks very different,” he said.

Ultimately, Aboulafia said that he believes the Air Force needs a crewed sixth-generation fighter, but the service faces a “fundamental contradiction” in its design requirements and budget that could drive delays. Affordability concerns would naturally push the service to a smaller aircraft with less range, but a more advanced Chinese threat could necessitate a larger, more capable, long-range jet that would cost more money.

“I don’t know which is the [right option] and it’s possible that they don’t know, but if there is a redesign, it’s two very contradictory directions,” he said.

Kendall, for his part, said NGAD is not just about the platform’s capabilities itself, but how it fits into a budding kill web that synchs up forthcoming drone wingmen known as Collaborative Combat Aircraft (CCA), space capabilities and a new crop of weapons.

“It’s going to need to work with CCAs. It’s going to need to work in an architecture which includes space-based support and other off-board support and an architecture that uses our most advanced weapons,” he said. “So we’ve got an opportunity here to really just be careful and make sure we’re on the right path before we make the final commitment.”

@Defensecomnews via X

[consultadd]

Why Local Staffing Agencies Can Be Your Best Resource for Finding Talent

Finding the right talent for your company is crucial to ensuring long-term success. Whether you're looking for temporary help or permanent hires, local staffing agencies can be an invaluable resource in streamlining your recruitment process. Local staffing agencies near you are especially equipped to understand the nuances of the regional job market and can connect you with top-tier candidates quickly and efficiently. In this blog, we'll explore why working with staffing agencies near me is an excellent strategy for finding the right talent for your business.

What Makes Local Staffing Agencies the Best Resource for Finding Talent?

There are numerous benefits to partnering with staffing agencies near me, particularly when it comes to hiring the right candidates for your business needs. Here’s why you should consider working with a local staffing agency:

In-Depth Knowledge of the Local Market Local staffing agencies are highly attuned to the specific job market in your area. They understand regional labor trends, salary expectations, and the most popular skills that candidates bring to the table. Their deep knowledge helps you find qualified candidates who are a perfect match for your job requirements, all within the local talent pool.

Faster Hiring Process Staffing agencies near you already have an established network of pre-screened candidates. This means they can save you significant time by presenting qualified candidates faster than if you were to search for talent on your own. Whether you're looking to fill temporary positions or permanent roles, local staffing agencies have the resources to expedite the hiring process.

Access to Specialized Talent If your company requires specialized talent, staffing agencies near me can help you find candidates with the specific skills you're looking for. Whether you need technical expertise, project managers, or industry-specific professionals, staffing agencies often have access to a pool of candidates with niche skills that might be hard to find through traditional hiring methods.

Cost-Effective and Time-Saving Using a local staffing agency can reduce recruitment costs in the long run. Instead of spending your own time and money on advertising job openings, screening applicants, and conducting interviews, staffing agencies handle all these steps for you. By leaving the recruitment process to professionals, you can focus on your business while ensuring you find the right fit quickly.

How Staffing Agencies Can Help With H1B Talent Acquisition

Hiring international talent is a great way to bring diverse skills and perspectives into your company. One of the most common visa types for international professionals is the H1B visa, which allows U.S. companies to employ foreign workers in specialty occupations. If you are looking to hire H1B visa holders, staffing agencies near me can play a key role in navigating the complexities of the H1B application process.

Expertise in H1B Visa Sponsorship: Many staffing agencies have experience working with H1B visa candidates and are familiar with the sponsorship process. They can help you understand the requirements and ensure that all necessary paperwork is filed correctly.

Access to International Talent: Staffing agencies often have a global network and can connect you with qualified H1B candidates who have the skills you need. Whether you're looking to hire for technical roles, engineering positions, or other specialized occupations, staffing agencies near me can help you tap into a broader talent pool.

Corp to Corp Staffing Solutions: A Flexible Approach to Hiring

If you're a business looking for flexible staffing options, Corp to Corp Staffing Solutions can be a smart choice. This model involves working with other companies or independent contractors instead of hiring full-time employees. Here’s how local staffing agencies can assist with Corp to Corp staffing:

Flexibility: Corp to Corp staffing solutions allow you to bring in skilled professionals for specific projects or periods without the long-term commitment of hiring full-time employees. This flexibility is ideal for short-term assignments, specialized projects, or seasonal work.

Specialized Skill Sets: If your company requires expertise in a specific area for a temporary period, Corp to Corp staffing allows you to access highly skilled contractors who can hit the ground running without needing extensive training or onboarding.

Reduced Risk: By using staffing agencies near me, you can mitigate the risks associated with direct hiring. Since the staffing agency manages the contractor’s employment terms, you have fewer administrative responsibilities, which can save your company time and resources.

Scalability: As your business grows or as you take on more projects, Corp to Corp staffing solutions allow you to scale your workforce quickly without having to go through the hiring process for full-time employees. This scalability is especially valuable for businesses experiencing fluctuating demand.

Why Local Staffing Agencies Can Help You Find H1B Talent and Beyond

The need for international talent is growing, and hiring H1B workers can offer your company a competitive advantage. Staffing agencies near me can help you navigate the complexities of recruiting H1B candidates, ensuring you meet all visa requirements while securing top talent. By working with a staffing agency, you can streamline the process of bringing skilled professionals into your company without the headache of managing the visa process yourself.

Conclusion

Whether you're looking for specialized skill sets, seeking international talent, or searching for flexibility through Corp to Corp staffing, local staffing agencies near me are the perfect resource to help you find the right candidates. With their deep understanding of the local market, faster recruitment processes, and expertise in handling H1B and Corp to Corp solutions, these agencies are an invaluable tool for your business. By partnering with a trusted staffing agency, you can save time, reduce costs, and build a stronger, more efficient team.

FAQs

1. How can staffing agencies near me help with H1B talent?Staffing agencies near you have expertise in managing the H1B visa process. They can help identify qualified H1B candidates and ensure that the required paperwork is properly filed for sponsorship.

2. What is the advantage of using Corp to Corp Staffing Solutions?Corp to Corp staffing provides businesses with flexibility, access to specialized talent, and scalability without the commitment of full-time hires. It’s ideal for short-term projects or temporary work needs.

3. Are staffing agencies near me able to find remote workers?Yes, many staffing agencies can help you find remote workers as well as local talent. They can connect you with candidates who can work from anywhere, depending on your business needs.

4. How long does it take to hire through staffing agencies near me?The timeline varies depending on the type of position and the agency’s resources. However, since staffing agencies already have a pool of pre-screened candidates, they can typically fill positions faster than traditional hiring methods.

5. Can I use staffing agencies for temporary staffing needs?Yes, staffing agencies specialize in providing temporary staffing solutions, whether you need short-term workers for specific projects or to cover seasonal demands.

[shoaibshahariar]

📈10 Steps To Grow Your SEO Authority & Topical Expertise

👉🏼 Growing your SEO authority and topical expertise is crucial for establishing credibility and driving organic traffic. Here’s a 10-step guide to help you enhance your SEO authority and become an expert in your field:

◼ Identify Your Niche and Target Audience Define Your Niche: Determine the specific area within your industry where you want to build authority. Understand Your Audience: Research your target audience's needs, pain points, and search behavior.

◼ Conduct Thorough Keyword Research Find Relevant Keywords: Use tools like Google Keyword Planner, Ahrefs, or SEMrush to discover keywords relevant to your niche. Analyze Search Intent: Focus on understanding the intent behind the keywords—informational, navigational, or transactional.

◼ Create High-Quality, Valuable Content Produce Comprehensive Guides: Develop in-depth articles, how-to guides, and tutorials that address your audience’s questions and problems. ◼ Incorporate Various Content Formats: Use blogs, videos, infographics, and podcasts to cater to different content consumption preferences.

◼ Optimize On-Page SEO Elements Title Tags and Meta Descriptions: Craft compelling and keyword-rich titles and meta descriptions. ◼ Headings and Subheadings: Use clear, descriptive headings (H1, H2, H3) to structure your content and make it easy to read.

◼ Internal Linking: Link to other relevant content on your site to improve navigation and SEO.

◼ Build High-Quality Backlinks Guest Blogging: Write guest posts for reputable sites in your industry. ◼ Outreach: Reach out to industry influencers and sites for backlinks. Create Shareable Content: Develop content that is valuable and likely to be shared by others.

◼ Leverage Technical SEO Improve Site Speed: Use tools like Google PageSpeed Insights to optimize load times. ◼ Ensure Mobile-Friendliness: Make sure your site is responsive and works well on mobile devices. Fix Broken Links and Errors: Regularly audit your site to find and fix broken links and 404 errors.

◼ Engage in Social Media and Community Building Share Your Content: Promote your articles and resources on social media platforms. Engage with Your Audience: Respond to comments, participate in discussions, and join relevant groups or forums.

◼ Monitor and Analyze Your Performance Use Analytics Tools: Regularly review Google Analytics, Search Console, and other tools to track your traffic, rankings, and user behavior. Adjust Strategies: Based on performance data, refine your SEO strategies and content to improve results.

◼ Stay Updated with SEO Trends and Algorithm Changes Follow Industry News: Keep up with SEO blogs, forums, and news sites to stay informed about updates and best practices. Adapt to Changes: Adjust your strategies in response to algorithm changes and emerging trends.

🔟. Build Relationships and Network Connect with Industry Experts: Attend conferences, webinars, and networking events to build relationships with other professionals. Collaborate: Work on joint projects, interviews, or research with influencers and thought leaders in your niche. By consistently applying these steps, you’ll build both SEO authority and topical expertise, which will help you rank higher in search engine results and attract a more engaged audience.

[kashish-arora20]

How to Crack Digital Marketing job

Introduction

Digital marketing is the best career opportunity. You recently completed your graduation and are starting your career in digital marketing. First, understand what digital marketing is. What is your current role and how do you navigate the job. Here I guide you to help you to crack a digital marketing job You find the jobs easily on LinkedIn. 

Digital Marketing Overview

Digital Marketing promotes products and services through digital methods, for example, SEO, social media marketing, content writing, ads, email marketing, etc. It is important to know the marketing strategies.

Important Skills

Knowledge skill: gaining practical knowledge in SEO (search engine optimization), writing blogs, and content marketing. WordPress, SMM (social media marketing), Google Ads, etc. 

Creative skill - you must have knowledge of creative skills in graphic design for example Canva, photoshop, and Abode like. 

Tools - must have knowledge of AI tools for example ChatGPT and other tools.

Social media profile 

Profile. It is important to have a social media profile and be active on it, for example, on LinkedIn, Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, etc.…

Stay updated

 Stay Updated on new marketing trends tools and creative learning.

Keys areas knowledge and skills which require maximum focus"

SEO (search engine optimization) is the process of optimizing a website or webpage to increase the quality and quantity of its traffic from a search engine organic result.

SMM (Social Media Marketing) is the process of making a network and sharing information about the companies. it is also a digital marketing and e-marketing

Content Writing is the process of writing content example blogs and others.

Email Marketing is the process of direct digital marketing sending emails to other people regarding brands and services.

Video marketing is the process of digital marketing advertising method to promote any brands or services digitally method

For digital marketing success, it is important to do marketing research and identify your brand strategies.

crack digital marketing job

For jobs, you must have good communication skills. and marketing knowledge. and practical experience in all digital marketing strategies.

learn how to use AI tools and other tools example Google Analytics and many more tools

first, you complete your course and internship program and gain knowledge and experience. and more learning on social media platforms. join digital marketing groups on LinkedIn.

For job interview

Before you apply for a job, you must have a good-quality resume. and after you prepare for the interview 

for the interview be ready for sample digital marketing questions 

for example,

what is digital marketing? and how it is work

what is SEO?

what do you mean by advertising? and how it is help?

what is PPC?

Focus on the main points

cracking a digital marketing job. You must have a combination of knowledge and skill. For example, Creative skills, technical skills, practical knowledge, and experience. Gaining knowledge in marketing, being active on social media, joining a digital marketing group, and search jobs on LinkedIn.

you must have the best learning skills.

you have skills and knowledge. you crack a job easily

to do best practices

strengthen your creativity

focus on your goal

don't give up

good communication

Networking

Make a strong network with other people on social media Example for LinkedIn. You find jobs on LinkedIn anytime and crack the interview.

to crack the job always keep the latest updates and remain active on social media platforms.

And use your internship experience for cracking the job

Conclusion

you must your main focus is on marketing strategies, brand building, learning skills communicating yourself and stay updated latest trend

If you are serious about my article, DM me for more details. 

[jcmarchi]

Entrepreneur creates career pathways with MIT OpenCourseWare

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/entrepreneur-creates-career-pathways-with-mit-opencourseware/

Entrepreneur creates career pathways with MIT OpenCourseWare

When June Odongo interviewed early-career electrical engineer Cynthia Wacheke for a software engineering position at her company, Wacheke lacked knowledge of computer science theory but showed potential in complex problem-solving.

Determined to give Wacheke a shot, Odongo turned to MIT OpenCourseWare to create a six-month “bridging course” modeled after the classes she once took as a computer science student. Part of MIT Open Learning, OpenCourseWare offers free, online, open educational resources from more than 2,500 courses that span the MIT undergraduate and graduate curriculum. 

“Wacheke had the potential and interest to do the work that needed to be done, so the way to solve this was for me to literally create a path for her to get that work done,” says Odongo, founder and CEO of Senga Technologies. 

Developers, Odongo says, are not easy to find. The OpenCourseWare educational resources provided a way to close that gap. “We put Wacheke through the course last year, and she is so impressive,” Odongo says. “Right now, she is doing our first machine learning models. It’s insane how good of a team member she is. She has done so much in such a short time.”

Making high-quality candidates job-ready

Wacheke, who holds a bachelor’s degree in electrical engineering from the University of Nairobi, started her professional career as a hardware engineer. She discovered a passion for software while working on a dashboard design project, and decided to pivot from hardware to software engineering. That’s when she discovered Senga Technologies, a logistics software and services company in Kenya catering to businesses that ship in Africa. 

Odongo founded Senga with the goal of simplifying and easing the supply chain and logistics experience, from the movement of goods to software tools. Senga’s ultimate goal, Odongo says, is to have most of their services driven by software. That means employees — and candidates — need to be able to think through complex problems using computer science theory.

“A lot of people are focused on programming, but we care less about programming and more about problem-solving,” says Odongo, who received a bachelor’s degree in computer science from the University of Massachusetts at Lowell and an MBA from Harvard Business School. “We actually apply the things people learn in computer science programs.”

Wacheke started the bridging course in June 2022 and was given six months to complete the curriculum on the MIT OpenCourseWare website. She took nine courses, including: Introduction to Algorithms; Mathematics for Computer Science; Design and Analysis of Algorithms; Elements of Software Construction; Automata, Computability, and Complexity; Database Systems; Principles of Autonomy and Decision Making; Introduction to Machine Learning; and Networks. 

“The bridging course helped me learn how to think through things,” Wacheke says. “It’s one thing to know how to do something, but it’s another to design that thing from scratch and implement it.”

During the bridging course, Wacheke was paired with a software engineer at Senga, who mentored her and answered questions along the way. She learned Ruby on Rails, a server-side web application framework under the MIT License. Wacheke also completed other projects to complement the theory she was learning. She created a new website that included an integration to channel external requests to Slack, a cross-platform team communication tool used by the company’s employees.

Continuous learning for team members

The bridging course concluded with a presentation to Senga employees, during which Wacheke explained how the company could use graph theory for decision-making. “If you want to get from point A to B, there are algorithms you can use to find the shortest path,” Wacheke says. “Since we’re a logistics company, I thought we could use this when we’re deciding which routes our trucks take.”

The presentation, which is the final requirement for the bridging course, is also a professional development opportunity for Senga employees. “This process is helpful for our team members, particularly those who have been out of school for a while,” Odongo says. “The candidates present what they’ve learned in relation to Senga. It’s a way of doing continuous learning for the existing team members.”

After successfully completing the bridging course in November 2022, Wacheke transitioned to a full-time software engineer role. She is currently developing a “machine” that can interpret and categorize hundreds of documents, including delivery notes, cash flows, and receipts.

“The goal is to enable our customers to simply feed those documents into our machine, and then we can more accurately read and convert them to digital formats to drive automation,” Odongo says. “The machine will also enable someone to ask a document a question, such as ‘What did I deliver to retailer X on date Y?’ or ‘What is the total price of the goods delivered?’”

The bridging course, which was initially custom-designed for Wacheke, is now a permanent program at Senga. A second team member completed the course in October 2023 and has joined the software team full time. 

“Developers are not easy to find, and you also want high-quality developers,” Odongo says. “At least when we do this, we know that the person has gone through what we need.”

[olibr08]

Unlock Success: MySQL Interview Questions with Olibr

Introduction

Preparing for a MySQL interview requires a deep understanding of database concepts, SQL queries, optimization techniques, and best practices. Olibr’s experts provide insightful answers to common mysql interview questions, helping candidates showcase their expertise and excel in MySQL interviews.

1. What is MySQL, and how does it differ from other database management systems?

Olibr’s Expert Answer: MySQL is an open-source relational database management system (RDBMS) that uses SQL (Structured Query Language) for managing and manipulating databases. It differs from other DBMS platforms in its open-source nature, scalability, performance optimizations, and extensive community support.

2. Explain the difference between InnoDB and MyISAM storage engines in MySQL.

Olibr’s Expert Answer: InnoDB and MyISAM are two commonly used storage engines in MySQL. InnoDB is transactional and ACID-compliant, supporting features like foreign keys, row-level locking, and crash recovery. MyISAM, on the other hand, is non-transactional, faster for read-heavy workloads, but lacks features such as foreign keys and crash recovery.

3. What are indexes in MySQL, and how do they improve query performance?

Olibr’s Expert Answer: Indexes are data structures that improve query performance by allowing faster retrieval of rows based on indexed columns. They reduce the number of rows MySQL must examine when executing queries, speeding up data retrieval operations, and optimizing database performance.

4. Explain the difference between INNER JOIN and LEFT JOIN in MySQL.

Olibr’s Expert Answer: INNER JOIN and LEFT JOIN are SQL join types used to retrieve data from multiple tables. INNER JOIN returns rows where there is a match in both tables based on the join condition. LEFT JOIN returns all rows from the left table and matching rows from the right table, with NULL values for non-matching rows in the right table.

5. What are the advantages of using stored procedures in MySQL?

Olibr’s Expert Answer: Stored procedures in MySQL offer several advantages, including improved performance due to reduced network traffic, enhanced security by encapsulating SQL logic, code reusability across applications, easier maintenance and updates, and centralized database logic execution.

Conclusion

By mastering these MySQL interview questions and understanding Olibr’s expert answers, candidates can demonstrate their proficiency in MySQL database management, query optimization, and best practices during interviews. Olibr’s insights provide valuable guidance for preparing effectively, showcasing skills, and unlocking success in MySQL-related roles.

[gradsireninc]

How To Get A Job Without Experience (With 6 Career Options)

Are you wondering if you can get a job without any technical or professional experience?

Getting a job without any prior work experience can seem daunting. But it's not impossible! You can convince employers to take a chance on you with the right strategy and perseverance. This article will take you to some effective ways to land a job without experience. You'll get to know six career opportunities that don't require any experience or minimal expertise.

Let's dive in.

Effective Ways To Land A Job Without Experience

Here are some effective ways to help you make a strong case to potential employers and open doors to intriguing prospects. You can utilize these ways whether you're a recent graduate, switching to a different sector, or simply trying to start over.

Leverage Your Education

Highlight your academic credentials, especially if you have a degree that relates to the field or role you're pursuing. Coursework, projects, internships, leadership activities, and any honors or awards show your capabilities.

For example, if you majored in marketing, emphasize any analysis or campaigns you did for class. Or, if you're applying for a software engineering role, describe coding projects and hackathons you participated in.

Be prepared to talk intelligently about what you studied and how it prepares you for the job's responsibilities.

Showcase Transferable Skills

The fact that you don't have direct experience in a particular job doesn't mean you don't have relevant skills. The key is identifying abilities from other areas of life that translate.

For instance, if you're trying to get a retail job, customer service skills from past restaurant work are highly applicable. For an office manager role, administrative skills from coordinating student group events would be valuable. Make a master list of all your strongest soft and hard skills. Then, customize it for each job by picking 3-5 that fit the role.

Highlight Volunteer Experience

Any volunteer work can help fill in experience gaps on your resume. Nonprofit, community, religious, or other voluntary activities demonstrate responsibility, teamwork, dedication and other qualities employers seek.

Just be sure to frame your accomplishments from a professional standpoint. For example, "raised over $5,000 in donations" is better than "participated in a charity fundraiser".

Complete Internships

Internships are like work experience training wheels. They give you professional skills and knowledge and let you start building a network.

There are abundant internship opportunities, paid and unpaid, that don't strictly require you to already have experience. Look for openings at small or mid-sized companies that may be more flexible.

Successful interns are often converted to full-time hires post-graduation. Even if that doesn't happen, it's still incredible resume fodder.

Showcase Related Side Hustles

Freelancing, consulting, business ventures, etc., demonstrate you have initiative, can generate income, and pick up new skills quickly. Even informal side work like tutoring, web design, or selling crafts has merit.

For example, if you're seeking a full-time marketing position, tout the social media management or influencer marketing services you offer. Anything where you actively had to market yourself and acquire clients is impressive.

Just make sure you can back up any claimed skills if probed in interviews.

Ace the Interview

At the interview stage, how you present yourself matters more than a thin resume. Confidence, professionalism, problem-solving skills, bona fide interest in the company and quick learning ability can all override experience gaps.

Come equipped with thoughtful questions, ideas and visions for how you'd tackle the role. When asked about experience gaps, pivot to your assets.

For instance, "While I don't yet have full-time social media management experience, I learned XYZ skills managing the Instagram account for my college basketball team, which helped increase engagement by 30%."

Sell how you can provide unique value. With preparation and passion, you can make employers believe in your potential.

The key is convincing hiring managers you have the right foundation and can excel on the job. With resilience and utilizing these tactics, you can transition successfully into a new career without directly relevant experience.

Just highlight your transferable abilities, be willing to start at entry level and work hard to prove yourself. The rest will fall into place.

6 Career Opportunities Options You Can Pursue Without Having Any Prior Experience

Entry-Level Customer Service Representative: Customer service roles like call center reps or customer support specialists rarely require previous experience. You'll learn on the job how to interact with customers, troubleshoot issues, and provide excellent service.

Administrative Assistant: Many administrative or secretarial positions are open to those just starting. Your duties may include answering phones, scheduling, filing, data entry and supporting office operations.

Sales Associate/Retail Worker: Retail companies are often willing to hire people without experience for roles like cashier, sales floor associate, stocker, etc. These jobs provide lots of customer interaction.

Teacher's Aide/Assistant: Schools, daycares, and learning centers need paraprofessionals to support teachers in the classroom. No prior experience is necessary beyond a high school diploma.

Delivery Driver: Pizza chains, UPS, Instacart and other delivery companies need drivers to transport packages, food orders or other items. A clean driving record is generally the only major requirement.

Entry-Level Hospitality & Tourism: Hotels, restaurants, parks, and other hospitality providers have many basic operational jobs like a housekeeper, dishwashers, ride attendants, tour guides, etc. These allow you to start in the industry.

The key is being willing to apply for junior roles, learn on the go, provide great customer service, and work your way up the ladder. You can build a career even without direct experience with motivation and persistence. You can also ask for assistance from platforms like GradSiren that offer you entry level jobs. They allow you to find fresher jobs as per your interests and skills.

Conclusion

It is possible to find employment without experience. Put a focus on your education, practical experience, volunteering, internships, and relevant side businesses. Gain confidence and problem-solving skills during interviews.

Take a look at entry-level jobs in administration, retail, education, delivery, or hospitality. You can begin your job adventure and rise through the ranks if you are determined and open to learning. Remember that everyone starts off somewhere, and your potential can emerge with persistence.

[wordpress-blaze-241425893]

Midjourney Video

With the release of video (silent) on Midjourney, I just can't stop trying to generate images to animate! It's exceptionally easy, but some formats work better than others. Tutorial.

https://videopress.com/v/lSu3UXal?resizeToParent=true&cover=true&loop=true&playsinline=true&preloadContent=metadata&useAverageColor=true

https://videopress.com/v/ATrZHeC9?resizeToParent=true&cover=true&loop=true&playsinline=true&preloadContent=metadata&useAverageColor=true

https://videopress.com/v/HM4jFd1H?resizeToParent=true&cover=true&loop=true&playsinline=true&preloadContent=metadata&useAverageColor=true

https://videopress.com/v/44IogZpY?resizeToParent=true&cover=true&loop=true&playsinline=true&preloadContent=metadata&useAverageColor=true

Source: Midjourney Video