#protocol stack
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bitstream24 · 6 days ago
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Free SAE J1939 Protocol Stack for ESP32 – Unlock New Possibilities for CAN Bus Development
Unlock a free SAE J1939 protocol stack for any ESP32 development board! Build CAN Bus applications easily using Arduino IDE. Fully customizable, no licensing fees.
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redstringredeye · 11 months ago
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👀
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fakecrfan · 10 months ago
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Okay I did write a joke post about Gwen getting a tattoo but I need to be transparent. If Gwen Bouchard comes back with a forcibly tattooed cursed mark that is going to be SO FUCKING COOL? I don't think any of the other characters are going to be able to compete with her for my interest after that. They are going to be at such a handicap that TMAGP will just be "the Gwen Bouchard Show" in my heart for the foreseeable future.
Like, I'm sorry. You want me to focus on Sam wanting to get with a cute girl and maybe sometimes investigate a mystery? When GWEN'S HUBRIS HAS MARKED HER WITH CURSED MAGIC? Yeah sure Alice makes some neat and funny quips now and then but GWEN'S PRIDE HAS GOTTEN HER DOOM WRITTEN ONTO HER ACTUAL SKIN? HELLO?? AM I SUPPOSED TO FIND ANYONE ELSE'S SHIT INTERESTING AFTER THAT?
In the race for my favor Gwen hit the ground running and has already made it past the halfway mark. Meanwhile Sam jogged a bit and then sat down on a side bench because he got a booboo. Alice stomped her feet and said she shouldn't have to run the race. Celia decided to take the course as an opportunity for a leisurely stroll. And of course, Colin ran in the opposite direction and then up a tree and he refuses to come down because the evil phones are after him.
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minmiami · 2 years ago
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love the fact that around this time a year ago, when I first started listening to tma, I wasn’t super into it but people on here urged me to keep at it. now, my brain has given into the rot, the obsession is building (3 years too late), the want to draw fanart is rising, do i dare see what lies within the depths of a03?? oh lord.
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anonymousad · 2 years ago
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crowdfund review: Shelterwood
Shelterwood has been on my radar for a while, since last year when they were casting (I think it was last year, but at this point we're over midway through this one so it may have been more recently). there have been rumblings about it for a while, lots of people intrigued by the initial pitch of "suburban gothic horror", so it's already gotten a bit of traction. I was unsurprised to see it announce a crowdfund. even more unsurprised to see certain aspects of it weren't up to snuff.
as usual, the link: https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/shelterwood-a-suburban-gothic
so let's start as we always do...
(Un)Realistic Goals
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what is with this $26,000 number, I'm serious was there a memo that went around to all of you saying this was a magic number???
genuinely, I find it especially odd when you consider that this is the exact same amount that Arden season 3 was asking for, and that is a show that is very established with prior crowdfunding success to base it off of. and I still thought it was a lot to be asking for them as people who had proven to their fans the quality they would provide.
Shelterwood is a project helmed by Stephen Indrisano (he/they), sometimes known as Indrisano Audio. I believe this is his first project as a writer, but on their website you can find other credits for both acting and sound design. of note, he is part of the team for Re: Dracula. suddenly why they think that giant number is acceptable makes a lot more sense, doesn't it? has Tal advice written all over it.
you know we will come back to this number in the budget section, but once again I will say that a "flexible goal" is not a bad thing, but maybe it's a sign that you should set a more realistic goal and then have stretch goals on top. I went pretty in-depth on the reasoning behind that in the Arden crowdfund review (that none of you read), but again.
we'll come back to this number.
Video Time
exactly 1 minute long, a reasonable ask of any prospective backer's time. but it's not about the campaign. this is a teaser trailer that goes on the podcast feed with a video component. honestly, the video aspect is not bad, it's a live action attempt to show off the general vibe and energy with actual clips of the show playing. has the same amateur energy of a lot of short films I would say, but sometimes that's charming. and the clips used are good, they tell the story of what to expect and the framing of it.
but it's not about the campaign.
a brief mention at the end with a link is all you get, and honestly that should have just been saved for the text portion of the post. most ideally, that's the INTRO of your video and after that first minute you have a call to action that actually says more.
good information to include:
time frame of the campaign
amount looking for
mention the passion of the team working on it
you can even mention influences here, but like one or two. keep it brief if you're going to
technically the video never even asks you to support the campaign, just that it is "crowdfunding now" and you can follow the url for more details. not much of a call to action to actually get people to take a look.
the ideas they executed on in the video are done well, but you can tell it wasn't really thought about how to make this work for the crowdfund so much as it would for just making me follow the RSS feed ahead of launch.
The Story and People
What Is Shelterwood: A Suburban Gothic?
as stated in their description, Shelterwood: A Suburban Gothic is a 16-part "Docu-Horror Podcast" (not sure why they capitalize those words to be honest). up front this is really good important information that will be immediately helpful in telling someone whether they will be interested in the project. there are plenty of people in the community with strong feelings one way or the other on the "docu-series" style, and being this clear about it is a good thing. for some they'll be more excited, and others will know this isn't worth their time and be able to move on (which isn't really a loss because even if you got them to read further they wouldn't likely give money anyway).
also love to see the length of the series being stated clearly here. "a 16-part" length tells me the most important information I need about the scope of the campaign. in part because it implies that this money will cover the production of the ENTIRE series, rather than later having them come back and go "hey, we actually are doing two seasons of 8 episodes each so we need another $26k to finish the story". that better not be what fucking happens, I swear
moving on, we are introduced to the writer/producer I mentioned above, Stephen Indrisano (he/they) (along with a link to his website, thank you for showing that people can very easily add hyperlinks in these sections). this section doesn't say anymore about Stephen or their personal qualifications to be asking for this much money and trust, but if you follow through to the website you can see credits for things they've been involved with on the production side. it would be better to not have to go elsewhere or dig for this kind of thing, when you are asking for a sum this large in any setting there is an expectation of proving that you can be trusted with it. and that comes down to more than the people you bring on board to help, it matters specifically with regards to the showrunner themself.
so why should I trust that Stephen can create a product so professional it needs $26,000 USD? at this point there's no reason. but let's keep going.
very brief one sentence description of the plot, not a bad thing to have but it could be fleshed out a little more to have some of the interesting details that were alluded to in the video trailer. again, not everyone will watch your trailer, sometimes when I see a campaign I'm in public or otherwise unable to listen to something and so will skip something with sound. plus it's less accessible to not have a written component (though it does look like care was taken to make sure the youtube captions were accurate, something very easily overlooked by even full-time video creators), but that does still require someone hitting play on a video they might not be able to.
we get a short list of inspirations, including two other well-known podcasts and an iconic horror video game, and then a description of "one part Gothic, one part Found Footage, and one hundred percent terrifying." which is not a bad tagline, but I'm still thrown by the weird capitalization going on here, that might just be a me thing.
Who Is Involved With This?
here's where we get some cast and crew and the standard name dropping you might expect from this type of production. it isn't necessarily trying to coast on the people involved and their success, buuuuttttt kind of a little it is. honestly I don't blame campaigns for doing this to an extent, even fans of a thing don't always remember the names of the people behind it.
it is always a bit suspicious to see name drops without additional context however.
we all know you put The Magnus Archives first as an attention grab, even though you only have one actor from that show who did a very good job but wasn't at all responsible for it being so beloved. Alasdair is great, but people need to stop coasting on his willingness to do smaller projects as a way to make themselves look more important.
of the 8 people listed in the crew section (which when it comes to quality of the finished product is who tends to matter more), I recognize and can connect 3 of them to other projects, and only two of those in a significant aspect. now that doesn't have to mean anything, but for me it does make me ask questions and want to dig into what the rest have done before to get a sense of the quality of the final production.
a small thing: it is also weird that within the crew section Stephen is the only one not with a crew related credit. obviously we've already been told he wrote it, but I'm not sure why it isn't still included when two other people in that section have both a cast and crew role listed.
I will say that the graphic looks nice, but I've brought up before how IndieGoGo doesn't seem to have any kind of alt text feature and so when you have an image with a lot of information you should keep that in mind. all of these people are only listed on the image, not in the text. the only thing that gets the text with links out treatment is the shows that Shelterwood is bragging about their talent being from. just something I thought I'd point out, if it's about the people then you should highlight the PEOPLE.
as much as I would like to, I'm not gong to dig into each of the credentials of the people listed here, cast or crew. people deserve to be given chances even if they're new to the scene (every gig is someone's first gig), and my personal desire to know how "qualified" each of them is is ENTIRELY coming from the amount of money being asked for. for even a $10,000 goal I would not be asking all these questions, there is just a threshold after which I get really suspicious and feel that justification is necessary. which they try to do a bit in the budget section.
but let's move onto the next bit, I don't think there is all that much to comment on as far as actors except what I've already said about clout.
Campaign Rewards and Goodies
let's talk tiers and perks.
the Shelterwood campaign has a total of 9 tiers, ranging from $5 at the lowest up to $1,000. you already know what's coming when we hit that one
so first of all, I think the sidebar tier scroll is REALLY good. the images for each level are unique and eye-catching, and help add to the general feel that the show is going for. scrolling through them really helps paint the picture for the Stepford energy to expect from this fictional neighborhood. each image also good theming, relating to the different aspects of being part of a neighborhood, from "Architect" to "Licensed Realtor". very good job on that, it adds to the fun of the experience and telling your friends about the level you backed at. especially if you want to make jokes about this being the only homeowner adjacent status you can afford.
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the tier descriptions are a little more verbose when you are actually looking at the options for selection, so I'm going to be referring to what is written there. I will point out if there is any substantial difference between that and the main text of the campaign, but for the most part it seems to just be an additional sentence and small wording tweaks.
NOTE: every tier includes all the rewards that are part of the prior tiers, I will not be pointing this out for all of them because that just gets repetitive and makes this even longer than it needs to be.
$5 PROSPECTIVE BUYER - a reasonable intro tier, and honestly anything lower doesn't seem to get many people on board anyway. a tip jar type $1-3 tier always seems like a good idea, but I doubt it's making up enough of the funding to justify itself when it comes down to it. but let's look at what's in this first bit of goods:
a pack of digital wallpapers - could be interesting based on the types of images we've been shown so far in relation to the campaign, and honestly it's a nice extra at this basic tier that a lot of campaigns will reserve for $20+
supporter updates through development - this is very vague and will probably come down to the way that all crowdfunding campaigns post updates. something that can usually be seen by people whether or not they backed your campaign, so I don't actually think this an exclusive anything for being a supporter. but at this tier price that's fine enough honestly.
supporter exclusive discord - perfectly reasonable to place here, helps even the backers who can't give much to feel like they are able to be part of and support the project as it becomes reality.
$15 NEW NEIGHBOR - the jump from $5 to $15 is a little odd to me, but I guess if you are trying to keep the number of tiers lower and already know your high point it is okay. personally the difference between offering $5 and $10 is a much easier choice to bump up as a supporter than going all the way to $15.
personalized shout-out on Twitter and/or Tumblr - to be fair, this was before the latest Twitter meltdown, so offering that was not quite as pathetic a couple weeks ago. BUT this is still a pretty sad upgrade for tripling your pledge?
$30 LONG-TIME RESIDENT - this has the same price increase issue as the last, there's just something about going up to $30 versus $25 that feels odd? harder to justify, sometimes numbers don't feel linear when it comes to money
curated recommendations - "everything you need to understand who we are and why" is a very vague description of what this might contain. I'm assuming we're talking books, movies, tv-shows, video games, other podcasts, and music that helped inspire the show. which honestly is fun, I don't mind that, it's just being extremely vague about it. $50 says House of Leaves is on there (no hate, it's a very important piece of architectural horror).
Haunted House micro-zine - UH OH. we all remember what this means, right? we all saw the absolutely PITIFUL micro-zine that went out to Re: Dracula supporters and with many of the same people involved here that is definitely the level of quality to expect (shoddy folding, clip art ass looking artwork, copy-pasted stuff from the web vs original content, misaligned printing, etc). granted, I think this is a PDF version (not that it specifies that itself, just based on the full tier description that says "a printable first step into the neighborhood"), but still. that zine was also at the $30 level and there were people really disappointed with it. I am not going to link to the Twitter thread in which one of the people involved with the campaign actively searched for and found a post with no hashtags or tags and proceeded to put them on blast to their own thousands of followers. but I want you all to know that I remember that happening, and it IS going to become relevant again at some point in the future.
UPDATE: right has I was doing my final checks of the campaign to make sure my images were up to date for this and things were still as I expected, an update was posted. an update that in part pertains to the micro-zine. I think everything I wrote above (and below about the physical version) is still relevant, BUT specifics of that will be revealed and discussed right before the end of this post if you want to jump down there and take a look at what I have to say now.
$50 LICENSED REALTOR - jumping up another $20 so that they can print out two sheets of paper and add 3 random stickers to send you
printed versions of the curated recommendations and micro-zine - you know what, they did at least learn that a printed copy of their zine was NOT worth going at the $100 tier. so they did make one improvement.
3 random stickers - stickers are nice and easy and can be sent worldwide for pretty cheap. a good thing to have, I just also usually like to see what these stickers might look like. in this case, that would be especially helpful because you are only getting 3 of the 5 designs, and it might actually help a backer decide to up their tier level because they really want to make sure they get the ones they want.
$100 DEVELOPMENT INVESTOR - for adding $50 to your pledge (doubling it) you can get some really boring shit:
all 5 stickers - adds the other two stickers! wow, thanks. totally worth it...
a signed, printed script page - a.... single page? for $50??? I'm sorry, but what the fuck are you doing. this is an INSULTING reward for someone giving you $100. that may not be a lot of money to some people, but especially right now during a huge economic downturn? that's just pathetic.
UPDATE: while it isn't listed here (which should be updated by them when they see this), as part of Campaign Update #2 (which I cover near the bottom of this behemoth post) there was an additional perk added to this tier and above: "a unique page of blackout poetry from a book that influenced the show" - I have no strong opinions on blackout poetry. I still don't think that this makes this tier worth it, but at least they recognize how pathetic it is that it needs a little more of a boost to look appealing.
as an aside: here's some examples of $100 backer rewards that I've seen on campaigns and think ARE worth it:
Syntax - both an annotated full script AND a personalized voice message from any cast member AND credit shout-out (not even counting the earlier included rewards such as an exclusive enamel pin and AMA)
Red Valley - a signed and bound FULL SCRIPT
Two Flat Earthers Kidnap a Freemason - an autographed FULL episode script AND a t-shirt
juuussssttttt some food for thought.
but let's continue on, I'm sure nothing else will be questionable here. can you feel the sarcasm coming off of me in waves, even across an ocean I hope you can sense it
$150 HOMEOWNER'S ASSOCIATION MEMBER - add another $50 for an exclusive poster (which honestly seems pretty reasonable especially when you consider how much international shipping is and production costs of a nice print. assuming the print is high quality, but you never know with this stuff until someone gets it)
an exclusive poster - again, would love to see a design. and maybe measurement details would be nice? I am really glad to see that the artist is named and linked to. the lack of credit I've seen on some campaigns for things they've hired out for is a really disappointing thing, so I am genuinely very happy to see a link to the artist's gallery. it gives a good idea of the style without giving away the mystery (if we want to give the benefit of the doubt that it is supposed to be a fun "mystery" what you will receive) as well as introducing people to an artist who may have other work they would enjoy and like to support. big A+ for that, seriously. the bar is really low on some of this shit.
$250 ARCHITECT - fucking hell, we're jumping up a full $100 now, time for the big leagues benefits
limited edition t-shirt - honestly I can't believe that they decided to put the t-shirt behind a $250 paywall. absolutely absurd, especially after I pointed out that it was included at the $100 tier for a campaign like Two Flat Earthers. I'm serious, do you know how cheap it is to print on demand a t-shirt? it's not dirt cheap, but it is NOT $250 tier level. I am unsurprised that at this point only one person has backed at this tier.
personalized thank you note from writer/creator - this is a nice reward, but again why do you think it is worth enough to be a $250 tier perk? especially when we all know that a "thank you note" can just be a one sentence thing with your name plugged into it. doesn't even say anything about being an exclusive postcard design or anything else that might make it worth it. Stephen might just go to Sam's Club or Costco and bulk buy a box of generic thank you cards to fill out.
$500 CHAIRPERSON OF THE ASSOCIATION - here's where things get a little more interesting
name a character or location in the show - this kind of thing is fine, my one hang up is just that sometimes these things are so fleeting or hidden that they barely qualify as a fun easter egg? we all know that this isn't going to be naming something important, and that's okay, I just hope that it's going to be naming something that is actually audible and noticeable at some point in the show.
one-of-a-kind "production ephemera" - this is a very neat perk that could also be really fucking disappointing. I think to make something like this appropriately exciting you need to give a specific example, more than saying "such as a prop from the video". especially when you use a term like "ephemera" there is an implication of it being something really neat and unusual and you should want to be selling that idea more explicitly. I do genuinely like this reward though, I think it IS relatively appropriate for this level of contribution and could be something really special. could be.
NOTE: this is the first tier where I feel the need to bring up that there are no limits on the number of backers at each level. I think for most physical goods that can get produced it isn't a huge deal to leave it open because a lot of that stuff is going to be made to whatever number is needed without much issue. but when you get into the territory of a "one-of-a-kind" good, there are going to be limitations on what is classified as being good enough to give away. if you get 30 backers at this level, but only 10 of the items are really worth it, you are doing a huge disservice. capping these numbers can also entice people to jump on them for fear of missing out on the one-time opportunity, so it can in fact be beneficial. for example, the Red Valley campaign I posted earlier capped their 3 highest tiers (10, 10, and 5) and sold out of ALL of them. granted, their highest tier was $328 USD (£250 GBP) and not $1000, but still.
$1000 TOWN FOUNDER - who could have guessed that the big $1k tier was once again a vanity Executive Producer credit.
Executive Producer credit - wow. I'm so shocked by this. truly this is the fallback reward of so many campaigns and is so fundamentally USELESS. stop trying to sell people a vanity title, it's gross and doesn't mean shit, and muddies the waters when it comes to the actual creatives who are involved. stop making me point this out. the fact that some people are willing to pay for this does not make it less of a skeezy scam.
[listed] in all show notes and transcripts - there is a typo here that says "listen" instead of "listed", not a huge deal it just made me do a double-take and wonder if I was in fact correctly understanding this reward. initially I read it as "oh cool, they actually get to listen in on some production stuff maybe?" only to realize that no. it's just more shit for the vanity title.
verbal thank you at end of all episodes - generally this is a nice tier reward, but again is it worth $1000? I also pointed out above that the Syntax campaign had this as a $100+ reward, which feels much more reasonable. this does again also bring back the thought of putting limits on the number of backers, because do you really want to potentially be reading dozens of names at the end of every episode? granted at this high of a tier that was never likely, but I did point this out for my Arden write-up which had it included at a tier far too low to leave open.
notably missing things:
any images - literally anything to show off potential rewards. I pointed it out at those tiers, but having a reward for 3 out of 5 random stickers and not showing ANY of the stickers? why would I even think about backing higher to get all of them when I have no idea what I'm missing out on.
any mentions of ad-free episodes - maybe they aren't planning to put ads on the podcast anyway, but worth pointing out that it isn't mentioned anywhere
early access to episodes - this one is usually a staple, weird to find it absent when it's such an easy draw
behind the scenes content - currently there is no indication that they have any kind of platform where they might share behind the scenes stuff, and it isn't a required thing. but I know a lot of people ARE interested in this stuff so I would think that maybe it could have a place. if there is supposed to be an implication that these things will be in the supporter-exclusive Discord server, then that should be clearly said because it is something that could convince people to support.
no add-on rewards - this isn't a super common one and I kind of get why they didn't include this, but when you have some of your physical rewards like a t-shirt locked behind these hugely expensive tiers no one is going to have them. but if you add a $30-50 t-shirt add-on people will buy it. and that's publicity when they wear it, when they post about receiving it, and when they see it in their own closet and think about your show. the ongoing Tell No Tales crowdfund has an add-on option for their very cute mug design, something I personally know people have added to their contributions
some general thoughts on these rewards:
mostly unenticing and overpriced, with nothing that really is selling them as a worthwhile investment. for all the money that they are asking, none of these tiers (particularly the high ones with the possible exception of the $500 one) have anything that would make me pledge above $15. things are either too far out of reach and expensive like the t-shirt or just plain not enticing like the micro-zine.
now that THAT is dealt with, let's move onto the imaginary world of how this money would be parsed out if the campaign were fully funded.
Where Will My Money Go? AKA The Budget
NOTE: because this is a flexible goal campaign, for calculations I am going to use the $26,000 USD being asked for to demonstrate the cost breakdown of the provided budget. this is reasonable given that by asking for this much they are claiming that this is the amount it would take to produce this audio drama. whether or not they receive that, that is the implicit claim.
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here you can see the budget pie chart provided by the campaign (I would like to say that visually I am a fan of this weird kind of tv psychedelic thing they have going on in the background of their images). it is... a thing. not a good thing.
Before the Dive
but let's start with what the campaign says in this section because that is also very interesting for other reasons. let's highlight what I think are the most important things:
270 page script
3 years of development already
"we are striving for nothing less than fair wages for all parties involved"
this breakdown applies AFTER crowdfund and reward expenses are accounted for
that last one is particularly important, because my first reaction to this chart was wondering if they were rolling the crowdfunding fees and reward expenses into "production" since they definitely didn't fit anywhere else. this does also slightly complicate the math because I do not know what those expenses will come out to apart from the standard 5% fee that these platforms usually take.
I do also think that the 3 years of development is really important to consider, especially when you combine it with the claim of "fair wages for all parties involved". as it stands, this budget breakdown does NOT do this, because it does not take into account those 3 years of writing and development and pre-production in terms of compensation. this problem of not paying the writers is something I keep seeing, and I think it keeps happening because the writing has already been done and it feels weird to some people to ask for retrospective payment. but if you pitch a script to a director and a studio picks it up, you get paid for that time! you get compensated for the thing you wrote that was a gamble, and if this campaign is making money off of that 3 years of work, why should that not be compensated to an extent?
in a lot of cases this would be the most important thing for me to call out here, that discrepancy between claiming to want fair wages for everyone, but that only seeming to apply when it comes to the production and post-production stages.
now, 270 pages is not nothing. that's a lot of script to write. but it's also not that much script to write if we're being honest. there are shows I listen to that have hour long episodes and their transcripts are 80-90 pages EACH. so comparing that to Shelterwood could have you thinking this is only going to come out to about 3 hours of content.
I actually had to come back to this section and make some adjustments because it's only in the FAQ (where most people forget to look) that episode length is mentioned (40-50 minutes).
now then.
Let's Get Into the Numbers
it's time to crunch some numbers.
it's going to be a bit difficult to divide based on anything except the cast/crew list and the number of episodes that will be produced, but I will try my best to break it down like that.
there is also a bit of really useful information hidden a little further down in the stretch goals section of the campaign (which I am glad I made note of before doing all of my math).
in the "How Much Do You Need to Raise?" section is the following:
For this project to get off the ground, we need to raise $26,000, with a green light to start production at $20,800. But don’t worry, we’ve got some exciting milestones to hit before then! For every $5,000 of our total goal raised, we’ll be releasing a micro-sode in the world of Shelterwood
this has some VITAL information for our calculations, namely that the ACTUAL goal to start production is $20,800 USD, not $26,000 USD.
there is a slight problem with this however, in that a "green light to start" can mean a few things. because the campaign is still a flexible goal, even if they don't hit this number they will get the money, so I am assuming it does NOT mean that they have to hit it to start production at all. I think what it is meaning to say is that it's either hitting that number or the campaign ending that will be the green light.
however, there is an alternative.
this is a group of podcasters with some significant pull and connections, something we've seen some of them deploy for other projects. namely, Re: Dracula.
yeah, we're back at this one apparently.
the reason I bring it up at all, is because that was a project that IN ADDITION to their crowdfund had a $10,000 investment from Seed & Spark. now why might that be relevant? there is a chance that when Shelterwood says it needs $20,800 to green light the production, that is an absolute statement. but that they have plans to try and find other investors to help them hit it if the crowdfunding doesn't get them there. I don't have any real reason to believe this would be the case, Re: Dracula was very upfront about their outside investment. but it does feel like something to point out with regards to how this is worded.
either way, I am going to be doing the calculations for 1. reaching the full goal, 2. reaching the "green light" goal, and 3. as a per episode cost. hopefully these three ways will give a good insight into the actual budget being proposed here.
there is also something in this text about promised "micro-sodes" at each $5,000 hit. that isn't about stretch goals, it's about the whole campaign. so we need to factor it in somehow. luckily there is already the first one up on the Someone Dies In This Elevator feed (another perk of having Tal on your campaign is getting some of the promotion they only seem to reserve for friends) and so I can see that it is 7.5 minutes long (which, side note, it's kind of weird that Shelterwood isn't referenced in the name of this one? it's in the show notes, but I scrolled past it without realizing and then had to take a closer look as I was going through again to figure out which it was).
most of this feed seems to be populated by a variety of micro-sodes, lengths ranging from as low as 4 minutes to as high as 11 minutes. so this one is actual bang on the money for average length. additionally, we know from the FAQ that the actual episodes will be 40-50 minutes apiece. now, I did not know that when I DID the calculations because I didn't check that section until the end.
as a side note, before we get into it: I really appreciate it when campaigns do some of this for me and include their own actual numbers along with the percentages. maybe you don't want to make my life easier, I am in fact largely writing about campaigns that I think are not good, but still. even as a prospective backer it's nice to see the 1 to 1 of "oh if I give $100 that is paying for half of an episodes acting!"
so let's break it down with first the big percentages as numbers:
here's where that little bit of info about the micro-sodes is useful. I was going to use my calculations to basically guess at how comparable all of these were compared to a full episode, before I realized the actual expected episode length was in the FAQ. but then I realized that the phrasing of these goals is that they are already completed and just waiting to be published, about 37.5 minutes of content based on the one we currently have access to. only the stretch goal mini-sodes have NOT been written and produced. so I am actually NOT going to factor them into the costs, because I've already pointed out that we are seemingly ignoring work that has already been completed before the campaign went live, and this is definitely that. so thank you for making my math a bit easier I guess by not having to factor those in.
additionally, I did point out how the campaign says that the percentages will be applied to the number leftover after campaign related costs, but that is an impossible amount of money to guess. so for ease I will be ignoring it entirely.
(I actually just forgot to calculate what 5% of the total goal removed would change the numbers to, and I really don't want to redo all my math now that I've realized this. sorry if that makes me seem less professional with my breakdown, but I can only do so much and don't have all the time in the world to make this perfect. an impossible task as-is.)
so. let's see these numbers in full (in USD):
PRODUCTION - 10% - $2,600 (at the $26k goal) or $2,080 (at $20,800) - $162.50 or $130/episode
so first of all, "production" is a very vague term. to some creators this may or may not include sound design and other aspects of editing, but since sound design is accounted for separately it makes it less clear what this bucket means.
I think that we can get a better idea by looking at the involved crew, but there will still be some guesswork involved.
first up, I think we can assume that this does NOT include payment for writing the script. we've already covered that I think, but I just to explicitly address that since in my mind that would be in the "production" bucket for this categorization of budget.
next we have the producer. again, this is fucking vague as hell in terms of titles, means different stuff to different people. I do however think it is part of this section of payment, given the name, so there is one person.
we also have 2 directors for this project. now, I think a case could be made that the directors are getting paid from the actor pool, but what it really is is part of the production side of things so I am going to assume it is here. that brings us up to 3 people.
lastly we have the graphic designer, a role that definitely falls into production as it almost certainly entails stuff like promotional material, marketing, and unique cover art for episodes (if they go that way, plenty of shows don't).
so we have a total of 4 people to split this money, though not all of these roles are equal. but as an average payment, we're looking at about $650 or $520 per person. I do think that the rate for the directors compared to the graphic design work is not going to paid the same, though I don't really have a clear idea how either of those costs will compare to the role of the producer here.
however.
even if we were to divide this in a way that was VERY generous to the co-directors, up to $1000 each even, that is really fucking low.
if both are taking part in directing all episodes, at 16 total that is $62.50 pay each.
if they are splitting the directing work and each taking 8, that is $125 for the episode in question.
either way, it comes out to the same amount overall, which is not really fair compensation for what will come out to what I would guess is around 25+ hours of work.
that estimation could be really off, but based on my own experiences I think I'm even being a bit conservative on that point. maybe not everything is being directed, some of the smaller parts might be recorded asynchronously, but still.
for a budget this massive, to only be setting aside less than $3000 is kind of ridiculous.
moving on.
MUSIC - 10% - $2,600 (at the $26k goal) or $2,080 (at $20,800) - $162.50 or $130/episode
again, I'm a little confused by the crew list here. we have listed both a "composer" AND someone doing "in-show music". given the context of the framing device as a docu-series, I'm still left pretty confused? this designation of "in-show" kind of implies that there will be a separation between the more professional production investigative documentary-esque side and some other place that music would be. the only things I can think that that would exclude are intro and outro music, which is not hugely significant compared to the main content of the show that will be given original music as background.
it makes it a little harder to distinguish these roles, though I do believe that the "in-show music" is going to be a larger portion of the production, so will likely get a larger chunk of the funds allocated here.
but let's assume for a moment that these are equivalent roles, and look at how much each will be paid:
for the full project, that comes out to $1,300 or $1,040 each (or approximately $81.25 or $65/episode.
now I don't think that the per episode cost here is that valuable, considering music is most often something that is paid a flat fee for. additionally, it's unlikely that every episode is going to have unique music; a certain number of compositions will be done to cover the broad themes needed (i.e. music for action moments, for investigative moments, for emotional moments) and then reused throughout the series. it's not really possible to make a guess at the amount of music that is going to be produced, so whether or not this is a fair pay rate is unclear. I will point out that there is a stretch goal involving an album, so we're probably talking about more than 10 distinct compositions.
even so, let's remember that this is the same amount allocated as for Production, but only split between 2 people. which is interesting. as I said, music can have re-use, but things like direction and production usually cannot, so I would expect those things to take up more time overall. and yet the same amount of money is being split more ways too.
again, this is all educated guesswork. it isn't super common for podcasts to have entirely original music and it's also very nebulous in how many tracks are required to keep things from feeling repetitive and to match the varying tones in a story. this leaves us to kind of just take this section of the budget as a gut check, one that I wouldn't really think much about if not for the fact it is being valued at the same price as "production".
I do think it's also worth asking a question about the need for original music. for a theme and credits track I definitely get it, having something that is 100% solely identifiable with YOUR production is big and helps it feel special. but when we're talking about background music, these are things that are arguably not that important in terms of being completely original?
I do think this isn't that much of an issue here, the music budget is still very tiny compared to the rest of the proposed costs, but it is still over $1000 for something that could be achieved by using a more cost effective solution like a sound library. as an example, Epidemic Sound is $239.88/year for a commercial license, and you could possibly get away with the personal subscription at just $119.88/year (I don't endorse this service, it is just seems to be the one most commonly used). there are a huge number of tracks, more than enough to tackle sound design for a documentary-style horror podcast.
let me be clear: I love music, I love musicians, I think people should have opportunities to get paid for their talent.
but I think it says something about how highly that this production sees itself that they are pursuing costs that are arguably not NECESSARY (we will get back to this, have faith). the more the cost of the campaign climbs, the more you should be evaluating what is most important. if the music isn't integral to the story, how are you justifying that additional cost?
like I said, I don't think it necessarily applies here in the context of the percentage of the budget, but $1,040-1,300 is still a LOT for most campaigns.
but let's keep going, we're about to look at the majority of where the budget is going.
CAST - 40% - $10,400 ($26k) or $8,320 ($20,800) - $1,625 ($26k) or $1,300 ($20,800)/episode
from these numbers we can also break down approximate actor pay.
what we know for sure from the cast announcement is that there are a total of 27 actors (3 of whom are also crew). obviously there are going to be varying levels of supporting vs main, but at this point there isn't anything I can say about the breakdown of that besides a guess (in a cast this size I would personally guess that probably 5ish roles are considered main characters, with 5-10ish as supporting and the rest as flavor characters).
but let's just look at breakdown as though every role were somehow equal in terms of compensation:
that gives us about $385 or $308 per voice actor across all episodes, or an average of $24 or $19.25 per actor per episode.
again, I don't think this is an accurate breakdown, obviously our perspective character is going to be speaking for most of every episode and just from looking at character names in the cast list you can tell quite a few will only appear once or twice.
but when you factor in that over half of these actors are likely doing minor characters and getting paid probably around $25 for their entire contribution, that leaves a lot of money left.
as a quick guesstimation, let's say 15 of the actors are in this group, accounting for only $375 of this budget. that leaves over $10,000 on the table to be split among 12 people, most of whom will not be main characters and probably only make $100-250 each. even if I were to be generous with these numbers, there is still a lot of money left on the table going to the main actors in the group. more than there needs to be for it to be fair compensation.
I want to reiterate that it's difficult to do anything definitive with the information we have, but I think it is somewhat useful to do this exercise as there are some somewhat standard rates of pay within audio drama, at least for smaller sized roles.
I believe in fair pay, but there is a difference between what that means in audio drama and what that means in other voice acting career spaces. I think there is a larger conversation to be had about that, particularly as we keep seeing crowdfunding campaigns of this size that seem to be trying to make their project something that provides a "living wage" to the actors. this is not really a sustainable or reasonable expectation given the amount of work being done, especially when compared to the value that is being given to other aspects of the production process (again, why are the directors getting paid from a bucket that is so much smaller than this one?).
what this seems to be doing is trying to fit a wage mold that isn't really applicable. these are not union actors getting paid industry rates, these are just not those kinds of professional productions. there is something very off about the amount of money being asked here for a project that is not even that large.
but let's move on before I go on an even larger tangent about this side topic.
SOUND DESIGN - 40% - $10,400 ($26k) or $8,320 ($20,800) - $1,625 ($26k) or $1,300 ($20,800)/episode
finally let's address the elephant in the room.
Shelterwood is a project with 1 sound designer. just the one.
Brad Colbroock will be receiving around $10,000 just for this 16-episode project. which is a ridiculous amount.
the claim here is that Brad is worth 27 actors, and 4x the musicians and rest of production team.
oh, but what's this interesting note here at the bottom of this section?
look at that, there is an amount of recognition at the ridiculousness of putting 40% of their budget towards a single sound designer. let's dive into it.
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okay, so first of all. this is an extremely unimpressive list of events. I know SEVERAL sound designers who are capable of delivering these specific scenarios in a couple hours each, MAX. if this is meant to show the justification by being the most impressive examples (excluding stuff that would be too spoilery obviously), then I am not very excited for the intensity and weirdness of the show's sound design.
this feels really basic for stuff you are trying to say justifies this high of a price.
I'm serious, this in no way convinces me that his work is going to be worth this much money.
standard sound design rates in audio drama are nowhere near $1,300-1,625 per episode, that is RIDICULOUSLY high. the most I've heard is probably around $500, and that was for an actual play which is significantly more work than your average audio drama episode.
I would like to know how on earth this is a justifiable number.
I would ALSO like to know if "sound design" includes as much as you might think it does.
there are a lot of shows where things like doing the dialogue cut is separated from the sound design aspect. I don't know if that's the case here, but as I'm still struggling to determine what the Producer is going to be in charge of if not the editing, all I can do is try and guess at what tasks are being left on the table.
"sound design" does not necessarily imply all parts of the editing process, and at a price this high that is majorly concerning.
THIS was the reason I decided to do a write-up.
there are a lot of things in this campaign that I think are suspect or just outright bad, but this was the moment that I went "holy fucking shit, these people have completely passed the point of being reasonable in their crowdfunding goals."
I am SO tired of seeing goals placed this high, the only thing it does is take away community funds and resources that could be better spread to a variety of diverse projects.
I'm not saying that Shelterwood doesn't deserve funding and to be made, I AM saying that Shelterwood asking for $26,000 when other campaigns struggle to raise even $2,000 is a big part of the fucking problem with audio drama crowdfunding right now.
this is a form of resource hoarding.
and it's the same people who keep perpetrating and benefitting from it.
I'm just really fucking tired of seeing so many interesting and diverse voices not be given the benefit of the doubt the way that people like this with connections to more established names do. because being friends with people who have a lot of sway DOES make a difference in the long run.
RANT OVER.
before we move on to stretch goals, just a couple small things:
I find it insulting that this team is justifying some of these expenses while still not compensating the writing that Stephen already did. I know I've already brought it up, but having crunched through all those numbers and had to see just how much more they are valuing the sound designer than the person who created the damn thing (which likely included already thought through notes about what the sound design should be), it is a spit in the face of all of the writers in the community. sound designers are very important, yes. but so are the actual minds and writers behind these stories.
Shelterwood is an interesting project because of its concept, NOT because of the promise of the sound design. I would listen to a low budget show with this concept and pitch because it sounds interesting, even if the production quality were barebones. because the actual value is in the story, not the presentation. I think these people have forgotten that.
I would also like to say that as part of a good budget section for a flexible goal campaign, I would expect to see something addressing if there will be changes to the breakdown if that goal is NOT met. before you address stretch goals you really need to talk about this.
now, it IS addressed, but not right here where it should be. it is in the FAQ section (where no one ever looks), so we will be dealing with it there.
I'm not doing a great job at holding back the salt, am I. out of practice forcing professionalism I guess, it's been a bit since I did one of these.
Stretch Goals
I briefly touched on this earlier during the budget section as there was information revealed here that was important for that.
but now let's take a look at it in full and talk about what's left.
Shelterwood has outlined 5 stretch goals:
at $28,000 is promised "off-week micro-sodes with extra scares added to the release schedule". this is an odd one to unpack, but it does reveal a small interesting tidbit in that Shelterwood will not be releasing weekly, most likely every other week. not hugely relevant, just good to know.
what I think IS relevant is that there isn't really a claim to how many of these bonus micro-sodes will be made? the use of the term "off-week" could imply that it is filling every gap in the schedule (i.e. there will be 15 micro-sodes added, one for between each major release and not counting the 6 that would already be out in the world as a side effect of hitting this level of funding).
in conjunction with that, this is only $2k above the fully funded goal, the implication there being that this is enough additional money to cover the cost of what is being promised. which seems pretty impossible at the prices we have been led to believe are needed by the budget section, the math just seem like it would work out to cover that.
at $30,000 the 7th micro-sode is written and released. I would hope that this work includes paying Stephen for their time writing, but the rest of this campaign has made me suspicious that he is not in fact paying himself for that work so I won't hold my breathe on that point. especially since we know that the mini-sodes will require sound design, and that the sound designer is very expensive.
at $32,000 we see "actor payscales increased!"
hm. well that's interesting. there are people involved in this campaign who have been VERY outspoken about how actors should NOT be paid more than sound designers and other parts of production. and yet here we are with a stretch goal that is only going to apply to actors getting paid more?
at $34,000 there is a Shelterwood Album. that's all it says, no clue if that means anything specific as it relates to campaign supporters? might just mean uploaded to Bandcamp for you to purchase if you'd like. to be clear, this isn't a bad stretch goal, I'm just unsure if it's actually going to be something that people get to enjoy "for free" after they've paid enough to the campaign to unlock it.
and finally,
at $35,000 the 8th micro-sode is written and released. I don't have anything to say about that that I didn't say about the $30k stretch goal.
moving on, I promise we're nearly done and all the hard stuff is out of the way now.
Other Ways To Help
always a good thing to have, though to be honest I don't know if it actually ever does anything? I think people are more likely to retweet or reblog a post they see naturally on social media, rather than getting to the bottom of a campaign spiel and deciding to write something up fresh.
giving some examples is a nice touch that makes it much easier, I hope that it is intentionally that they are all somewhat cringey (cringe can be a good thing).
I also this it's really great that there are already crossover episodes lined up with a few other podcasts (though I can't say I'm familiar with any of them apart from Someone Dies In This Elevator, and several seem to be non-audio drama and even nonfiction in aspects, which is an interesting choice for this project?)
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I would also like to say that I genuinely LOVE the "more uncanny way to help" section. it is honestly the best part of the campaign and is a model for creative and interesting marketing. I don't know how effective it will be, but this is the kind of fun interesting shit that makes a campaign stand out. it's also a great opportunity for spreading the word if people actually do it. not because I really think people will go to a url on a random flier (I think if you want actual throughput that way you need to add a QR code instead of just the typed web address though, much easier for people to follow through), but because those people will post on social media which will get attention and then you can reblog with some in-universe type response and get free marketing that is engaging.
FAQ
we're done looking at the main bit of the campaign, let's jump over for a look at the FAQ, aka the most frequently ignored part of a campaign.
How long will the show be?
here is the only place that there is mention of the length of the episodes, which gives us a good idea of the full length of the finished product. we are told 40-50 minutes per episode (not including any micro-sodes) so if on average it's going to be 45 minutes each we can math that out to around 12 hours of content. pretty solid amount, I'm not sure why that is buried here though? to me this is important information, I would have expected it to be proudly presented at the top of the campaign when the 16 episodes was first stated.
What makes Shelterwood different from other horror podcasts out there?
honestly this is a good pitch, so good that it shouldn't be hidden away here. move this to your introduction, you want to be sure that people read this when deciding whether to give you money. there are a LOT of horror podcasts, and it's really important to set yourself apart from the get-go. talking about being horror and Gothic in passing isn't going to be enough, you need to really emphasize it.
this is ALSO important in that it is the justification given for the music budget that I was looking for earlier. granted, the necessity of this as being vital to the show will remain to be seen, but "in-universe songs that haunt the whole show" is the kind of thing that would make me more excited to give. highlight that in the main body of the campaign, make a point of clearly calling out why these things are so necessary to the fabric of the show. it helps you stand out and it helps you communicate their importance.
How scary will the show really be?
I honestly don't think this is really a provable thing, people will know if it's scary once they hear it. usually I would lean on the creator's previous work, but we have nothing here to look at for that. so like all things, it will come down to personal taste whether listeners find it scary. hard to quantify something like that, honestly I think the only reason this is here is to try and bolster Stephen Indrisano's experience and why you should trust them to make a good horror show.
the problem being that this isn't being put where we as a prospective backer are introduced to him, but somewhere most will never look.
What happens if the goal isn't reached?
now as I said earlier, I really feel like this should be addressed in the main body of the campaign because most people won't look here.
but here it is, and here we are. so let's talk about what this says:
If we cannot reach our goal, we will have to go back to our budget and start making tough decisions about pay scales, characters, and whether the show can be made at all while still fairly compensating our team. If we cannot raise the funds, there will be large delays in production until we can determine outside funding. We are dedicated to paying our cast and crew what they deserve for high-quality work.
overall, the way this is worded and framed is kind of vague? yes, there's no reason to get into details here about what would need to change, but it feels like a dangling threat that you are meant to fill in with your own worst case scenario "what-ifs". it's also a bit concerning in some aspects, because which pay scales are we talking about here?
while going through the budget earlier, it was very clear what work was valued most of all: the sound designer. now, it's also important to note that he is probably being paid a fixed rate that will be non-negotiable, most sound designers have a per hour rate they give and you don't really haggle that. so I don't believe any of that shortfall would come from his budget.
the next obvious pool is actors, which makes sense given it also calls out whether characters will need to be cut. this is kind of shitty, as all of these people are already promoting this project they got cast in and might get removed from without warning. this is a FLEXIBLE GOAL, so to get cut after putting in time and effort to help get more money means that you just did that labor for free that you would have been compensated for in some way before. just because you aren't paying cast and crew to do promotion doesn't mean that their actual pay isn't in some part FOR that. this is true in any job, if you were organizing a money-making event and then got fired right before it happened, the money that the company made off of the thing you planned is not benefiting you.
I think in a lot of these cases, it's production that takes the brunt of these cutbacks first. these are the people who feel the most investment in making the project happen, and the most willing to undercut themselves to try and make sure it does.
now then. the most egregious part.
we will have to go back to our budget and start making tough decisions about pay scales, characters, and whether the show can be made at all
"whether the show can be made at all".
this is a "flexible goal" campaign. that means that any money they raise is going to be kept by them, whether or not they decide they can actually make the show "at all".
a charitable reading of this would be that in that case they will refund all the donations and not keep any money.
but it's weird not to say it outright because all that does is make you look like someone who will try to get away with keeping the money, even if the project falls apart.
there's also something else I think we should talk about with regards to this:
I think that by creating a flexible goal, you are implicitly saying "we don't think we'll reach the full goal, and we'd still like to get some money if we don't."
if this is the case, then why aren't you creating the initial budget with that in mind?
I think I touched on this in the Arden post, but you should be presenting your "minimum viable product". what this means is that you are stating that for the project to exist it MUST have at least this. and I don't mean in terms of money, I mean in terms of cast and crew and episodes and time that can be given to create the most bare version of the thing that will get to the goal.
that might mean no original music, that might mean fewer side characters, that might mean half as many episodes.
whatever it means, THAT is what you need to be thinking about when you start asking for money. especially if you are already approaching it from the stance of "we will take whatever we can get", you need to know going in what that looks like. it is NOT something to be decide later if you don't hit the goal, it is something that needs to be known upfront and used as the basis for your decision-making.
doing anything else is irresponsible to all parties involved, including those trusting you to put their money to good use.
Campaign Updates
you thought we were done?
so did I god fucking dammit why are we not done yet.
since campaign launch there have been 3 updates.
the first is from about 2 weeks ago, just sharing that the first bonus micro-sode was released with a link and reminder that at every $5k another one will be released.
the second was posted at the end of the first week of crowdfunding (just over a week ago as of right now).
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this update actually has something interesting that I pointed out earlier. at this point, the campaign decided to add another reward at the $100 tier and above, a unique page of blackout poetry. which is fine, except that again this is hidden away where most people won't see it, and the actual tiers and body of the campaign need to be updated to reflect this additional perk for it to do any good in convincing supporters to give money at that level. right now it's basically just a hidden easter egg reward.
however this post also alludes to something in the 3rd update. something I fucking hate.
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can I just say how much this reminds me of those Instagram "follow and tag 2 of your friends!" contests? I can't be the only one.
but let's actually look at what this is:
We are pleased to announce that, effective immediately, we will be running a referral contest. What does that mean? In a nutshell, we will be offering one of three very special, unique perks to the top three individuals who can gather new pledges through referral links: 1. A walk-on part in the show, to be recorded when production starts 2. A personalised list of horror recommendations from the cast and crew 3. A character named after you, who will die spectacularly in Shetlerwood The rules of our contest are simple: whoever gets first place gets first pick of the rewards. 2nd place gets 2nd pick, and 3rd place gets 3rd pick.
so there is a lot about this that I think is bad, some of which might just come down to personal ethics and what I would be willing to do as part of a fundraiser?
I hope it's at least clear why I find this kind of thing gross and exploitative. in a way you are dangling rewards that are reliant on someone having a relative position of privilege. referrals only count if the person follows through and donates, which means that you need to be friends with people who can afford to do that.
I will say that I am VERY thankful it seems to be based on the number of referrals and not the AMOUNT that is garnered by them, but there is still something very gross feeling about this that I can't shake.
part of it might be that these feel like backer rewards that were withheld for the sake of this contest. like they were going to do this no matter what and they looked at the things they could offer and went "let's hold back these enticing things specifically for that". especially when the actual campaign rewards are really lackluster, to hold these back and have fans compete to try and get them is gross to me.
I fully accept this might just be a "me thing" that I find this to be icky, but none of us are original so at least one other person is going to agree with me. that doesn't make it the right opinion, it just reinforces that it is a valid one.
I don't think that contests are a bad thing, there is just something about a "referral contest" that makes me think of MLMs and other financially exploitative systems.
but now let's talk about the fun part of this update, which is the reveal of the "Haunt-Your-Own-House Micro-Zine".
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I am happy to report being right about the quality of this "micro-zine". allow me to draw your attention to the fact that the printed "shingles" are not oriented correctly. you cannot convince me this was a design choice, I'm pretty positive it's just sloppiness.
would just like to point out that this is not a zine of any kind, this is just papercraft. which is fine, but that's a REALLY different thing. I don't want a bit of papercraft taking up space, a small zine that can slip onto a little bookshelf is much more desirable to me.
as an idea, it's not a bad one though. like this is a fun little thing for you to put together and maybe customize, but you should advertise it for what it is, which is NOT a zine of any kind.
but also, the ghost shown in the image is NOT part of it. I thought that was another bit of papercraft when I was writing the image description above, but no apparently it isn't even part of it, they just stuck it in there to make the thing look less boring. if it can't look impressive as the thing you are giving, maybe that's a sign it isn't a good reward.
before we move on from this, they also say the following:
The PDF for these will be sent out to all backers at the $30 level and above within the next 48 hours, so be on the lookout for that!
now I might be wrong, but I'm pretty sure that backers haven't actually given money yet. they can still cancel their pledge, but you are already looking to fulfill the reward?
I can understand this as a marketing move, get the thing in people's hands so they can make it and post on social media to help the campaign gain traction. but you are jumping the gun and if I wanted to I could back, get the PDF, and then fucking bounce now that I have it. just thought I should point that out.
no, I will not be doing that, I don't need this kind of clutter on my desk and I don't even own a working printer.
okay, one last part of this update: "even more bonus audio!"
here we get an acknowledgment that the campaign is not really on track to hit full funding, so they are adjusting their goals in terms of releasing additional content to try and attract more support.
Unfortunately, our funding has been a bit too slow to reach many of those [$5,000 micro-sode] goals... which is why we're lowering the bar and releasing new audio on our YouTube channel every $1000 instead! This will include exclusive micro-interviews with some of our iconic cast and crew about all things horror podcasting, as well as other terrifying glimpses into the world of Shelterwood
can we stop using "micro" as a prefix on everything?
so I am a little confused by the wording here, in the sense that "lowering the bar" is a phrase usually used to talk about a change to something, rather than the addition of new things? so I'm a bit unsure of whether this is going to impact the existing every $5k micro-sode goal, or if this is something entirely separate that is being introduced to try and get more excitement.
I think it's fine either way, I was just a bit confused by the wording and curious if they are considering adjustments to the micro-sode goals to ensure they will get to release all of them (since I think it's pretty clear the first 6 are completely produced and ready to go).
as for the actual content being promised here, it seems fine enough? I'm assuming that they are having to dig into some stuff they were hoping to save for later, and I hope that the "micro-interviews" are at least somewhat substantial enough to justify their existence.
as a note, it's weird that they hyperlinked to the first micro-sode, but not to their YouTube channel where these new things are going to be posted? there's nothing up yet (unless you could some Shorts) so I'm assuming they mean every additional $1k after the update was posted.
that is all for the updates because I am determined to publish this before they can put another one out. I need this to be done, and we are NEARLY there.
please bear with me, the last section is extremely important.
The Catch-All Section
here's just random stuff that I noticed or thought of but didn't have a real place anywhere else:
in the Cast and Crew graphic, why is Karim Kronfli the only person who's name is at the bottom of the image rather than the top? just a weirdly random inconsistency that bothers the perfectionist in me
please more images and pictures, they don't need to be much (especially since as I stated before we unfortunately don't have any kind of alt text feature for campaigns to utilize) but they keep people from getting bored staring at a massive wall of unbroken text
there were more than a few typos across the campaign (the show's name on one occassion). it's a good idea to put all your text in a word processor first to catch these things, you just aren't going to see it yourself the 5th time you are re-reading the campaign before publishing. let a computer check your work.
it would be nice generally to see more creativity when it comes to rewards. things don't have to be expensive or extravagant to be interesting, even at lower tiers. think about the world you are creating, think about what works within it. as an example, the WOE.BEGONE patreon has a tier at which the creator writes in-character postcards to patrons that when put together reveal a larger story (this is an example of something that I find really creative and like. I know it's not a crowdfunding campaign but whenever I think about rewarding listeners for their support I think about this). and he does this every month. that is an incredibly clever use of the world that show has built and connecting the fans to it in a unique way. you only have to figure out something like that once for your campaign, I believe in you.
Conclusion and a Larger Conversation
so why am I once again talking about a high profile campaign that is asking for a lot of money?
I think there needs to be a recognition of the importance of the context surrounding when you launch a campaign as well. because the financial situation right now is very different from the financial situation a year ago is very different from the financial situation of 2019.
as an example, let's look at the Afflicted Season 2 crowdfunding campaign that just ended in failure.
this was a FIXED GOAL campaign. they were asking for $23,500 USD and they only made it to $13,283, just over 50% of the way there. so they got none of it. it was all or nothing and the result this time was nothing.
and that really sucks for a lot of reasons.
I had some criticisms about that campaign that I kept to myself at the time, in part because diverse voices in audio drama is really important. Afflicted provided a lot of opportunities for marginalized creators to get established and share their unique voices. so often the campaigns that are getting met are the ones that continue to prop up the same types of voices and experiences as we've all heard before.
I am much more interested in the unique horror that a show like Afflicted is bringing to the table as a production driven by a Black woman than I am with hearing from the same types of voices we are used to. we have a lot of similar people making stuff in the community, and frankly a lot of our "diversity" is mostly driven by being white and queer. these voices are important too and there's a lot that is good, but that is the majority in this space. that's why we need to make sure we are getting opportunities to the people who don't have the privilege or connections.
this is a personal opinion, not one everyone will agree with. but we are better as a community when we do extra work to make sure that more varied diversity is highlighted and supported.
Afflicted planted their foot saying "this much or nothing" and took the gamble that most of these high number campaigns are unwilling to do. a gamble that they succeeded in last year to fund the first season.
the difference is partly that the economy looked really different last year. disposable income, rent prices, general cost of living. it wasn't great, but it was better than it is now and that MATTERS. we all know how fucking bad it is right now, especially in the US, so to be asking these massive amounts of money is tone deaf. in this case, Afflicted was even asking for MORE than they raised for season 1. you could argue some of that is because they already managed to prove themselves as creators who were good for the money and deserved that kind of chance.
but the fact of the matter is that people just don't have that kind of cash to give over and over.
which leads into my main point.
every time I see a campaign with this high of a goal I think one thing:
"this is hurting the community."
now, that may not sound reasonable to some of you, especially if you are one of the people who believes that numbers this high are justifiable.
when we talk about supporting each other from a audio drama creator standpoint, it is done so freely and with an understanding that new listeners isn't really a thing we're going to run out of. if I recommend 10 podcasts I like, that doesn't hurt MY show. it just helps the community by sharing things we generally enjoy and care about it. this is how you end up with the networks of support that we've seen in newer places like the Audio Drama Lab.
unfortunately, money is not the same.
the amount of money that each of us has to give to support the things we like is limited based on our individual situations. anyone recommending a specific crowdfunding campaign to give money to DOES have an impact on the amount of money left in the pool for others.
so when something like Shelterwood or Arden or Afflicted or Among the Stacks or The Magnus fucking Protocol asks for these amounts, this is ACTIVELY impacting whether other campaigns will succeed.
while The Magnus Protocol raised over £700,000 (or about $940,000 USD), DOZENS (probably more) of smaller projects were struggling to get less than half a percent of that.
that was money that could have done a lot more community good than supporting a blatant RQ cash grab.
we're looking at a different scale here, obviously. I do not think that the absolutely disgusting amount raised for one of the most beloved audio drama's sequels is directly comparable to what these campaigns are asking.
but it certainly did help them when trying to legitimize those numbers.
$26,000 is a LOT of money.
there are a lot of people who would be able to change their lives on even just 20% of that, be able to create new and interesting things if given just a little bit of support. and most of them are not asking for much.
but repeatedly having these large projects that position themselves as more worthy and better is hurting us all.
I think we also need to talk about what it means to pay "fair wages"? because a lot of people don't even make that at their day jobs. a "fair wage" is a capitalist idea that most don't benefit from, and it isn't necessarily applicable to every industry.
most voice actors do not get by doing projects they care about, they get by doing commercials and audio books and training videos for random corporations. because a "fair wage" in voice acting is not necessarily a set thing where hours and effort given always corresponds to money received.
all creative industries have trouble supporting that, this is a capitalism problem that you are trying to fix with more capitalism. you can't force the concept of "fair wages" into a space that monetarily cannot support it.
because what you are doing is creating an ecosystem where only YOUR cast and crew will get fair wages for their work. everyone else will have to do the compromise for YOUR sake.
there's that phrase, "a rising tide lifts all boats". I think people cling to this when they see these kinds of things, especially when they are successful. "isn't that good for all of us? doesn't that mean everyone will get more?"
again, no. money is a resource that is limited (for us as non-rich oligarchs).
the "rising tide" is not the ocean that freely gives and takes water in cycles. where we actually are is a dam, where water levels are carefully controlled and directed and distributed during times of drought. campaigns like this are part of that, they direct the water towards the richer and more privileged neighborhoods, the people who already have connections and opportunities.
there is less water left for everyone else.
THAT is what these campaigns do, THAT is why it is important to really assess what is necessary.
I don't think think that people shouldn't be able to make a living off of what they love, but I think that there are exploitative ways to do it and non-exploitative ways. these campaigns are exploitation in a way. crowdfunding in theory shouldn't be that, but it becomes that. especially when you start to enter the territory of these numbers, both in what is being asked for and what tiers are being presented as "normal and reasonable amounts for a single person to be giving".
we need to fucking stop this before we let these kinds of campaigns empty the dam completely.
that's it. that's all I have to say on this.
this is a conversation, one that I want us to have. I am tired of watching people who are already privileged continue to hoard the resources.
we can do better.
anyway, I think this campaign is a product of a larger issue. it is NOT "the problem", but it is a symptom of it. one that you are making a statement about in deciding to give or withhold money. it's not in my hands, it's in yours.
just keep what I said in mind, and maybe search the terms "audio drama" on whatever crowdfunder you like best.
take note of all the other projects you see, projects that have promise and talent and don't have connections that make them feel like they deserve to take half the pie home.
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pachecoj-pgy2401c · 2 months ago
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neverwalka1one · 5 months ago
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2024 Tumblr Top 10
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Question: When Colin attacked the server tower with a hammer... did any pieces break off? Were all of them accounted...
...I stand by my question, given what happened.  
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Okay, this week's Delicious in Dungeon was a ride, but I'm still over here deciding if Senshi deciding to 'forget' he saw little...
Delicious in Dungeon was an excellent find this year!
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I got to see Wicked last night, and whoo boy I have thoughts. Cut for spoilers, you've been warned. I'm looking forward to...
I still have thoughts, and I’m probably going to see it again this week. :)
4. 31 notes - May 2 2024
So, thoughts about the Shapeshifter Delicious in Dungeon episode: a) Seriously Liaos, you only put together who the Mad Mage is...
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I am still not ready to write up EP30, still in full flail, but consider this: Georgie Barker, who loved one man (and still...
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Magnus Protocol 20
7. 25 notes - Jan 16 2024
... Heligan is real. The Tremayne family IS REAL. I mean, there was no Charles and Merrick Tremayne, no wild adventure in Peru...
I still desperately want to see these gardens.
8. 22 notes - May 31 2024
Magnus Protocol 18
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Magnus Protocol 17
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Magnus Protocol 15
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See yours and post ‘em, I wanna see!
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newcodesociety · 7 months ago
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abbotjack · 28 days ago
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Whatever You Say, Fruitcake
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pairing : Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x Reader (established marriage)
summary: Myrna’s being Myrna. Somewhere between the chaos, you and Robby manage to come up for air.
warnings/content: Fluff, Hospital setting, strong language, married intimacy, mild sexual tension(?), bodily fluids (mentioned), chaotic workplace dynamics, Myrna.
word count: 1,767, not beta read.
a/n: I’ve written so much smut and angst lately… felt like I needed a fluff filler. Honestly, with everything Robby’s been through too—he deserves one just as much as I do.
Someone left the remains of a hoagie in the trauma fridge again, and now the back hallway reeks of vinegar, cold cuts, and poor life choices.
The smell hits you as soon as you clear the curtain bay—sharp, sour, unmistakably fermented. You pause mid-step. Behind you, Dana makes a strangled noise in her throat and immediately starts waving a clipboard in the air like it’s going to do something other than stir it up.
“If this is Whitaker’s doing,” Dana says, already pinching the bridge of her nose, “I’m pulling him from patients and assigning him to mop duty and moral reflection.”
You snort. “Pretty sure that’s not in the union handbook.”
She’s already striding ahead. “Then I’ll write my own damn handbook.”
Just ahead, Robby moves through the corridor like a man who’s been paged three times too many. Hoodie sleeves shoved to his elbows, coffee in one hand, a clipboard tucked under his arm, and a look that says he’s thirty seconds from announcing his retirement.
Whitaker’s hustling to keep up, slightly flushed and fumbling with a stack of blank admission forms and a clipboard clearly marked for peds. He’s also holding an empty emesis basin and a bag of saltine crackers.
“I dropped the kid off in Pediatrics like you told me to,” he says, catching his breath. “Then someone threw up on my shoes, I handed over some crackers as a peace offering, and I think I accidentally took this chart on my way out while trying to avoid a loud debate about Paw Patrol and screen time.”
Robby doesn’t even look at him. “Why are you holding a puke tray?”
“Someone in Peds handed it to me. I panicked and said thank you.”
“You don’t work there, Whitaker. You work in emergency.”
“Yeah, well, try telling that to the four-year-old who called me Doctor Crackers and wouldn’t let go of my hand.”
Dana watches Whitaker veer off toward supply, jaw tightening just slightly. “If he volunteers himself into another department’s meltdown, I’m having his badge color-coded for liability.”
You raise a brow. “Is that a charge nurse threat?”
“It’s preventative management.”
Before you can reply, the air shifts—like it always does when Myrna materializes. The low squeak of her wheelchair wheels, the jingle of cheap bracelets, and then—
“Hey, fruitcake.”
Robby slows when he sees her. Not surprised. Not annoyed. Just—ready, in that way he gets when Myrna’s name is involved in a trauma note or a psych hold request.
He hesitates, jaw clenched, clipboard tucked tighter under his arm as he steps in behind the wheelchair—slow and deliberate, one hand on the back like he's guiding a live grenade disguised in costume jewelry.
Myrna is cuffed, of course—standard protocol—but she’s sitting tall like she’s holding court. Her walker is bungee-corded to the back of the chair, and there’s a half-empty Styrofoam cup in the side pocket that no one remembers giving her. She smells like menthols and peach Schnapps. Her lipstick is smeared. Her eyes are sharp.
She cranes her head slightly to look up at Robby and grins with all the self-satisfaction of someone who knows exactly how to ruin your day and plans to do it slowly.
Robby exhales. “Myrna. What brings you in today?”
“I murdered my husband.”
“How’d you do it this time?”
“Meat grinder.”
She shifts in her seat, adjusting the tilt of her chair. When he stops, she immediately starts wheeling herself toward the empty staff breakroom like she owns the place—completely ignoring the Employees Only sign.
“Where do you think you’re going, Myrna?”
“Oh, none of your business, fruitcake.”
His jaw ticks. The clipboard drops half an inch.
“Actually, everything that happens in this department is my business. And you know what? I put up with a lot around here. I take very good care of you. So you can call me Dr. Robinavitch, or Dr. Robby, or you can use my first name, Michael. But I do not appreciate being called fruitcake.”
Dana leans toward you. “He’s two years and one more nickname away from tossing his pager in the East River and moving into a cabin with no electricity.”
You snort. “He can move to the woods if he wants, but I’m not following him into a life of compost toilets and mosquito nets. He’ll be back the second he realizes I’m not coming with.”
Back in the hall, Myrna shrugs.
“Oh, did I hurt your feelings, cocksucker?”
Dana snorts. You press your fingers to your mouth.
Robby takes a breath. “That said, it has a certain whimsical quality I can probably learn to live with.”
“Whatever you say, fruitcake.”
Without missing a beat, she pivots her wheelchair and rolls with precision toward the ambulance bay doors. The automatic sensor doesn’t catch her on the first pass, so she backs up, then rams the base of the door with enough force to jolt the frame—and nearly set off the motion alarm. A “Wet Floor” sign topples in her wake.
Then, slowly, she lifts her cuffed wrists and waves them at the security camera like she’s on parade.
Robby doesn’t move. Just watches her, unreadable.
She pauses at the edge of the exit, half-turned in her chair, chin tilted up like she’s daring someone to try and stop her.
A nurse nearby mutters, “Do we stop her… or let natural selection take it from here?”
You find him later in the breakroom, elbows braced on the table, fingers pressed into his brow like he’s trying to force the day out through his skull. His coffee sits untouched beside a chart he’s clearly given up pretending to read. The overhead light is flickering, unresolved, adding to the static hum that no one has the energy to report anymore.
You slide your coffee beside his and drop into the seat next to him. No words, not yet. Just your knee brushing his under the table—light, intentional, familiar. He doesn’t look at you, but he exhales like you just gave him permission to breathe.
After a beat: “I’m fine.”
You sip your coffee. “Mmm. Then why have you been brooding like a cursed Victorian husband.”
He drags his hands down his face and groans. “She called me a cocksucker in front of the whole emergency department.”
“And you didn’t throw anything,” you say. “Which, frankly, is a win.”
You nudge your foot against his. “Do you want me to fight her?”
His brow furrows. “What?”
“Outside. Ambulance bay. High noon.”
That earns the smallest crack of a smile.
“I’m serious,” you add. “I’m fully within my spousal rights to go feral.”
“Pretty sure that’s not in the HR manual.”
“Pretty sure it’s in the vows.”
He huffs out a reluctant laugh, and you feel the air between you shift. Lighter. Less taut. The corner of his mouth tilts in that way you’ve learned to love—subtle, fleeting, like warmth in a place that rarely allows it.
“Dana probably already has a memo drafted,” he mutters. “Something official—‘Effective immediately, all consults will refer to Dr. Robinavitch as Fruitcake.’”
You grin. “She has. It’s laminated. I signed off on it.”
He shakes his head, smiling despite himself. “You’re enjoying this too much.”
“I’m married to you. I take my entertainment where I can get it.”
He finally leans back, posture loosening. “One of these days, I’m torching this whole department.”
“You won’t,” you say. “You love this place too much.”
“I love you. Everything else is negotiable.”
You fall quiet at that, the kind of quiet that makes room for a hand to reach across the table. Yours. His. You’re not even sure. But they find each other easily, like always.
“You were good today,” you say. “The way you handled her. All of it. You didn’t give her the chaos she wanted.”
“She got under my skin.”
“But she didn’t get a reaction. That’s power. That’s control. I'm proud of you.”
He looks at you. Really looks at you. And for a moment, it’s quiet in a way this place rarely is.
“You’re always proud of me,” he says, voice softer now.
You smile, just a little. “Not always. Just when you deserve it.”
A pause. He huffs, but it’s fond. “You should put that on a sticker.”
“Already did.” You nudge his elbow. “Slapped it on your locker right under the one that says ‘Fruitcake of the Month.’”
He groans. “I married a menace.”
“You married smart.”
“You tricked me.”
You squeeze his hand. “And I’d do it again.”
The silence that settles next isn’t heavy. It’s married silence. Full of the things you don’t need to say because you’ve already said them a hundred different ways over coffee cups and night shifts and shared exhaustion.
You glance toward the hallway, then back to him, voice lower now. “Sometimes I wonder how we’re still standing in all this. You, me. This place.”
He watches you for a long moment, then says, “Because you make it worth it.”
A pause.
Then—
“I’m not kissing you in the breakroom,” he says eventually, eyes still on yours.
“I know.”
“But I want to.”
“I know that too.”
Another small smile. “You’re trouble.”
“And you’re mine.”
The moment hangs there—warm and quiet and stupidly rare. It's the kind of silence that only happens when two people know each other too well to need more words.
His pager buzzes on the table. You both glance at it but don’t move right away. Then, like muscle memory, he stands and grabs his clipboard. You collect the two half-finished coffees and toss them without comment.
When you step toward the door, your hand brushes his—not by accident. He doesn’t take it, not here, not with the door just about to swing open. But he squeezes your fingers once, fast and familiar. It’s not affection, exactly. It’s reassurance. A habit. A promise.
You exit the breakroom together.
The hallway feels colder by comparison. Brighter. Louder. Someone’s calling out discharge instructions. A gurney wheel shrieks as it sticks on the threshold. The ER is alive again, like it never paused.
He walks ahead of you, falling back into his role like pulling on a second skin—focused, efficient, slightly intimidating. But you know that look. You know the weight he’s carrying.
When his hand grazes yours again at the hallway bend, he doesn’t pull away right away.
You don’t hold hands. You don’t need to.
But the warmth lingers.
That’s the thing about marriage in a place like this : there’s never time. So you take the seconds. And when you find each other in them, you hold on.
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pucksandpower · 1 year ago
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The Princess and the Piastri
Oscar Piastri x Princess of Denmark!Reader
Summary: in which you follow the time-honored tradition of Danish royalty falling in love with Australians
Note: dedicated to my favorite Dane, @struggling-with-drivers, who had to put up with me taking months to finally get the proper inspiration to write this
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“And if you’ll just follow me, Your Majesty and Your Royal Highnesses, I’ll take you to meet Kevin now,” the overly peppy Haas PR representative says as she gestures down the garage.
You force a smile, trying not to physically recoil as you take in the assault of garish Haas branding surrounding you. The white, red, and black color scheme is far too harsh on the eyes this early on a Saturday morning.
“Oh goody,” your younger sister Josephine says flatly, eliciting a snort from your younger brother Vincent.
Your mother, Queen Mary, shoots the two a reproachful look before turning back to the PR rep with a polished smile. “We’re very excited to meet Kevin and support Denmark’s driver.”
The PR rep beams and starts leading you further into the Haas garage, rattling on about Haas’ ambitious goals for the season as you pass mechanics in matching black Haas polos barely paying you any mind.
You internally groan, already dreading the interaction ahead. As the Crown Princess, you’ve long perfected the art of feigning interest, but this weekend has tested even your limits.
“And I know meeting the future queen will just make Kevin’s day!” The rep continues enthusiastically. “He was so honored when King Frederik reached out about you all coming this weekend to support him.”
You resist the urge to snort. More like the royal communications secretary reached out when they realized the Australian Grand Prix overlapped with your visit to your mother’s family in Australia. Nothing like conveniently timing a royal appearance to drum up positive press.
Your younger sister, Isabella, sidles up next to you, linking her arm through yours commiseratingly. At 16, she’s already mastered your family’s signature skill — conveying boredom through a pleasant facial expression.
“I have some fresh sets of Haas merch we would love for you to wear when you meet Kevin,” the rep says, holding out stacks of Haas emblazoned caps and shirts insistently. “It would mean so much to the team for you to showcase your support.”
You force a smile, already shaking your head. “Oh, I’m afraid we can’t wear anything with advertisements or sponsors per royal protocol.”
The PR rep’s face falls slightly before she plasters the smile back on. “Of course, Your Royal Highness, I understand. Shall we?”
She gestures further down the garage to where the Haas drivers are standing with team personnel. Kevin Magnussen spots your approach, nudging his teammate before they turn towards you.
As you reach them, Kevin steps forward first, offering a short bow. “Your Majesty, Your Royal Highnesses, it’s an honor to meet you.”
You offer your hand, which he takes, bowing again as he brushes his lips over your knuckles. “The honor is ours, Mr. Magnussen. Denmark is proud to have you representing us in Formula 1.”
Kevin smiles bashfully as you drop his hand. “Please, call me Kevin.”
You return his smile politely. “Very well, Kevin it is.”
The rest of your family exchanges pleasantries with Kevin before the PR rep guides you towards the pit wall to observe the action on track. Practice is getting underway, and you’re grateful for any chance to extract yourself from the oppressive Haas environment.
As you exit the garage into the sunlight, you breathe a sigh of relief. Two bodyguards fall smoothly in step behind you as you start down the paddock, taking in the buzz of activity.
You smile softly, the excitement infectious despite your general disinterest in motorsports. There’s something about the frenetic energy at a race that gets your blood pumping.
Your eyes light up as you spot the unmistakable papaya motorhome of McLaren up ahead. Now that’s a team you can get behind. Cool retro appeal and a driver line-up you’ve heard is full of young talent — what’s not to love?
You pick up your pace, eager to get a closer look at the iconic livery, when suddenly you collide headlong into a firm, muscular body.
You gasp as strong arms wrap around you, stopping your momentum abruptly. Your hands brace against a solid chest as you glance up, prepared to stammer out an apology.
But the words die on your lips as you find yourself staring into warm brown eyes set in an unfairly handsome face. The eyes widen in surprise, clearly not having expected the Crown Princess of Denmark to go careening into his arms.
His mouth opens, no doubt to ask if you’re okay, but you stand frozen as the hustle of the paddock fades into background noise.
In this moment, it’s just you and this beautiful stranger. A stranger who hasn’t let go of you yet, one hand still pressed gently against your back.
You know you should pull away, apologize for your clumsiness and be on your way. But something about his eyes makes you want to stay right here, wrapped safely in his arms.
You stand frozen, lost in the stranger’s mesmerizing brown eyes. You vaguely register your bodyguards stepping forward on either side of you.
“Your Royal Highness, are you alright?” Henrik, your lead bodyguard, asks urgently.
You blink, the spell broken as Henrik’s hand lands on your shoulder, gently tugging you back.
The stranger’s eyes widen further as understanding seems to dawn. His eyes flick over the royal crest on Henrik’s suit jacket before moving back to your face, a hint of panic in his gaze.
Before you can offer any reassurance, a voice calls out sharply from behind the man.
“Oscar! What are you doing, mate? We’ve got the strategy briefing in five!”
You watch as the man — Oscar, apparently — glances reluctantly over his shoulder to where a thin harried man bearing a McLaren team pass stands tapping his foot impatiently.
Oscar’s hands slip from your waist as he takes a small step back. “Sorry, I—”
But whatever he was going to say gets lost as the man strides forward, clapping a firm hand on Oscar’s shoulder.
“C’mon, let’s go. No time for chatting up fans when we’ve got quali coming up.”
Oscar allows himself to be steered away, casting one last, almost wistful look back at you before the brisk man hustles him around the corner.
You stare after them for a long moment before Henrik’s voice breaks through your daze once more.
“Your Highness, are you injured at all? Shall I call for a medic?”
You blink, shaking your head quickly as heat floods your cheeks. Honestly, they must think you a simpleton, standing here gaping after a man you collided with.
“No, no, I’m fine,” you assure him quickly. “Just a bit clumsy this morning it seems.”
You force out a breathy laugh, hoping your flaming cheeks can be explained away as embarrassment from your blunder.
Henrik eyes you skeptically for a moment before nodding. “Very well. But please be more careful, Your Highness. Next time we may not be so lucky.”
You nod contritely before allowing Henrik to usher you back towards the Haas garage, your other bodyguard falling smoothly back in step behind you.
As you near the garage, you spot your family gathered by the pit wall, watching as a group of track marshals examines a particularly suspicious drain cover. Your younger siblings all turn as one to look at you, eerily in sync.
The knowing looks on their faces make you shudder. Of the many curses of growing up in a big family, the inability to keep secrets ranks near the top. You’re sure they’ll have the truth out of you before long.
“Nice of you to join us, Y/N,” your younger brother Christian remarks wryly as you reach them. “Have a nice stroll?”
You resist the urge to stick your tongue out at him. Barely.
“Lovely, thank you,” you reply breezily instead, moving to stand between your mother and Isabella.
You determinedly avoid meeting any of your siblings’ gazes, focusing on the timing sheets instead. But you can feel their curious stares boring into you.
“You look a bit flushed, darling. Are you feeling quite alright?” Your mother murmurs, pressing a hand to your forehead in concern.
“Just peachy!” You chirp in response, internally cringing at the unnatural brightness in your tone.
From your other side, Isabella leans in, voice sly. “You do seem rather … distracted. Anything you want to share with the class?”
You glance at her sharply, taking in her knowing smirk. You narrow your eyes in warning, but Isabella just smiles innocently.
“Oh leave your sister be,” your mother chides. “I’m sure Y/N is just overwhelmed by the excitement of experiencing her first Grand Prix.”
You make a noncommittal noise of agreement, turning your focus back to the timing sheets. Isabella elbows you subtly and you pointedly ignore her, keeping your gaze fixed ahead.
You’re immensely thankful when the Haas PR rep appears again, ushering you towards the back to “give the team space to prepare for qualifying,” and drawing your family’s attention away from you.
You trail after your family to the cordoned off hospitality area, gratefully accepting a bottle of water from the proffered cooler.
As the mechanics spring into action around you, Isabella sidles up next to you again, playful smile still in place.
“Soooo,” she drawls, bumping your shoulder with hers. “Who’s got you all flustered then?”
You nearly choke on your water, whipping your head to face her. “What? No one! I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Even to your own ears, the denial sounds feeble. Isabella merely arches one perfect brow, clearly not buying it.
You huff out a breath, scanning the room quickly to ensure none of your other family members are in earshot before hissing under your breath. “I may have accidentally careened into a McLaren crew member during my walk.”
Isabella’s grin turns positively feline. “Oh, do tell ...”
“There’s nothing to tell!” you insist, face flaming once more. “We collided and his reflexes were quick enough to catch me before I fell. That’s all.”
“Mmhmm, I’m sure that blush is just because you’re so very embarrassed by your clumsiness and nothing else.”
You scowl and take a long swig of your water.
Isabella chuckles. “So was this mystery McLaren man at least handsome?”
You nearly choke again. “Isabella!” You admonish under your breath.
She holds up both hands innocently, still grinning. “What? It’s a perfectly reasonable question. No judgment here, promise.”
You narrow your eyes, considering her carefully. Before you can think better of it, you mutter reluctantly, “He … wasn’t entirely unfortunate looking.”
“Aha!” Isabella crows triumphantly. “I knew it!”
You shush her frantically, glancing around to make sure her outburst didn’t draw any unwanted attention.
“Do you know his name at least?” Isabella asks, slightly more quietly this time.
You hesitate before admitting, "... Oscar, I think. His colleague called him that.”
Isabella hums thoughtfully. “Very mysterious ...”
You roll your eyes, shoving her shoulder. “Oh stop it. Can we please just drop this?”
“Of course, of course,” Isabella relents, though the impish twinkle remains in her eye.
You’re prevented from further interrogation by the start of qualifying. You rejoin your family, studiously keeping your gaze away from your siblings’ knowing looks.
You determinedly put the morning’s events from your mind, focusing on Kevin’s qualifying efforts. Though you can’t help the occasional wish that the handsome stranger from McLaren — Oscar — was the one flying around the track instead.
The session proceeds fairly predictably, with the top teams claiming the top spots and the backmarkers bringing up the rear.
As Kevin pulls into the garage after qualifying 17th, you paste on an encouraging smile.
“Excellent job out there, Kevin! You and the team should be very proud.”
Kevin smiles wryly back at you. “You’re too kind, Your Highness. But I think we all know 17th is nothing to celebrate for a team with our aspirations.”
You nod sympathetically. “Of course, there’s always room for improvement. But you showed admirable pace given the circumstances.”
Kevin inclines his head gratefully at your measured response. “You have a bright future ahead as queen with such judicious words.”
You thank him sincerely for the compliment before your family takes their leave, the day’s obligations finally complete.
As you all pile into the waiting cars, Isabella leans over and whispers, “Do you think Kevin would’ve qualified higher if Haas wasn’t so slow?”
You have to smother your snort of laughter into your hand.
“Without question,” you whisper back. “I think a snail could qualify ahead of Haas at this point.”
Isabella dissolves into muffled giggles next to you as the cars pull away from the circuit, leaving the chaotic world of Formula 1 behind. At least until tomorrow.
***
You stare contemplatively out the car window as the city lights of Melbourne streak by in the darkness. Despite your family’s teasing, you can’t seem to remove a certain McLaren crew member from your thoughts.
Oscar. Even his name sends a flutter through your stomach.
You know it’s foolish to get caught up over a brief collision with a stranger. And yet … those eyes. You can’t shake the connection you felt in that moment, however fleeting.
The car slows to a stop outside your hotel and you make a split-second decision. Turning to your mother, you adopt your most winsome tone.
“Mor, I was hoping you might allow me to go out for the evening. To experience the Melbourne nightlife before we depart.”
Your mother’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “Go out? Alone?”
You rush to reassure her. “Oh no, I’ll take Henrik and Simone with me of course. I would just love the chance to explore the city a bit, like a normal young woman.”
You see a flash of understanding on your mother’s face and press your advantage. “In fact, didn’t you and Far meet during a pub crawl?”
Pink stains your mother’s cheeks but her lips quirk up. “I suppose we did. But those were different times ...”
“Please Mor?” You plead. “When will I have a chance like this again?”
Your mother regards you shrewdly for a long moment before sighing. “Oh very well. But Henrik and Simone must accompany you at all times. And I want you back by midnight at the latest.”
You beam, leaning over to smack a kiss on her cheek. “Thank you, thank you! I promise I’ll stay safe.”
As you exit the car, your younger brother Christian pipes up from behind you. “Hey, can I come too?”
“Absolutely not,” your mother shuts him down swiftly, leveling a quelling look at his crestfallen face.
You hide a smile as you sweep into the hotel to change, giddiness rising in your chest. A night out is just what you need to clear your head from a certain handsome distraction.
An hour later you slide into the backseat of one of the discreet royal security vehicles, now wearing jeans, heels, and a silky camisole, your long hair spilling over your shoulders.
Henrik raises his eyebrows at your outfit but doesn’t comment as he pulls away from the hotel, heading for the club district.
When you arrive, the bouncer’s eyes widen at the royal crests adorning your bodyguards’ suits. But a few quick words from Henrik and you’re granted access without a fuss.
The heavy beat of the music washes over you as you enter the fashionable club. Bright lights flash hypnotically over the crowded dance floor. You glance back at Henrik and Simone stationed near the entrance, allowing the music to carry you further inside.
You weave your way to the bar, excitement simmering in your veins. Tonight you’re just Y/N, anonymous clubgoer. No titles, no expectations, no watching eyes judging your every move.
Well, except for your bodyguards of course. But they’re discreet enough to give you space.
You’re so lost in the heady freedom of anonymity that you don’t notice the nearby figure doing a double take. But as you step up to the bar, waiting to order, a now familiar voice sounds behind you.
“Y-Your Highness!” He stammers, nearly dropping the drinks he just received. “I mean, Princess, uh Crown Princess? Sorry, I’m not actually sure—”
You whirl around to see Oscar standing there, looking devastatingly handsome in a button-down and jeans.
“Oscar!” You gasp, a smile breaking across your face unbidden. “What are you doing here?”
Pink stains Oscar’s tanned cheeks. “Ah, well my mates from the team wanted to go out and blow off some steam before the race tomorrow.” He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “But what brings Denmark’s future queen out to the clubs?”
You shrug lightly, grin turning impish. “Can’t a girl just want to dance and have some fun?”
Oscar’s eyes gleam with understanding. “Suppose she can. Well then, may I get you a drink … er ...”
He trails off, clearly unsure how to address you in this unusual context.
You take pity on him and lean in conspiratorially. “Tonight, I’m just Y/N. No need for fancy titles.”
Relief flashes across Oscar’s face and he smiles. “Y/N it is.”
Soon you’ve got drinks in hand and are chatting easily at a tall table beside the dance floor. Oscar is witty and charming, and laughs freely at your sarcastic commentary about Formula 1.
You’re amazed by how at ease you feel in his presence, the crown’s ever-present weight lifted from your shoulders. With Oscar, you’re not an heiress apparent, but just a girl talking to a boy she really really likes.
When he asks what you think of McLaren, you perk up eagerly. “Oh yes, what is it exactly that you do there? Are you an engineer or mechanic of some sort?”
Oscar’s eyes shutter briefly and he clears his throat. “Ah, something like that. Mostly just tinkering to try and make the car faster.”
He steers the conversation to safer waters before you can inquire further. You make a mental note to look up the full McLaren staff list later and figure out his specific role.
The night flies by in a blur of laughter and stolen glances. Oscar gamely joins you on the dance floor, his hands resting lightly on your waist as you sway together.
When at last you note the time, disappointment sinks heavy in your gut. Oscar’s face mirrors your own regret as he insists on walking you to meet your bodyguards.
Outside the club, you turn to him reluctantly. “I wish this didn’t have to end. Thank you for a wonderful evening.”
Oscar shuffles his feet, looking uncharacteristically uncertain. “Would … would you want to meet up again tomorrow? Maybe outside the McLaren garage before the race?”
Your face lights up. “I’d love that.” Overcome by boldness, you lean in and brush a feather-light kiss to his cheek.
Oscar’s hand drifts up to his cheek, eyes dazed. “Brilliant. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
You bid him goodnight before allowing Henrik and Simone to usher you into the waiting car, unable to keep the giddy smile from your face the entire ride back.
***
The next morning, you awake with a smile stretching across your face. The memory of Oscar’s brown eyes gazing into yours as you swayed together in the club fills you with warmth.
As you dress and prepare to head to the circuit, an idea strikes. There’s no rule saying you have to spend the entire pre-race hours cooped up in the Haas garage after all.
You slip into the hotel dining room, grabbing a piece of toast. “I’m afraid the petrol fumes in the garage were giving me a dreadful headache yesterday. I think I’ll take a walk around the paddock this morning for some fresh air before the race.”
Your mother’s brows furrow in concern. “Oh dear, that won’t do at all! Yes, a nice walk sounds wise.”
You thank her profusely on your way out, hiding your triumphant smile until the door closes behind you. Phase one complete.
You hold yourself back from rushing through the paddock once at the circuit, maintaining a sedate royal pace. But inside, excitement bubbles through your veins at the thought of seeing Oscar again.
As you make your way to the McLaren garage, your steps falter at the larger-than-life image emblazoned on the wall. Oscar beams back at you, brown hair just barely poking out from under his McLaren cap. The block letters beside the photo proclaim OSCAR PIASTRI #81.
You press a hand to your mouth to smother your gasp. Oscar is a driver? Your Oscar?
Speak of the devil, you spot him emerging from the garage, already dressed in fireproofs with his race suit half hanging around his waist. His face lights up when he sees you, lips curving into that boyish grin that makes your knees weak.
“Good morning!” He chirps, moving in for a brief hug.
You return the hug distractedly, still grappling with this new discovery. As you pull back, you arch a questioning brow at him.
“So … you’re a driver. Funny, I don’t recall you mentioning that last night.”
Pink stains Oscar’s cheeks and he rubs the back of his neck. “Ah, right. I may have omitted certain details about my role here.” His eyes turn pleading. “I hope you can forgive me? I just liked talking to someone who didn’t already know everything about me for once.”
You regard him thoughtfully before allowing a teasing grin to emerge. “Well, I suppose I can understand the appeal of a fresh slate. And it’s not as if I was fully forthcoming either.”
Oscar’s shoulders sag in relief. “Too right. Quite the pair we make, Princess.” His eyes dance playfully.
You open your mouth to respond but are interrupted by a shout from the garage. “Oscar! Debrief in two minutes, let’s go!”
Oscar smiles apologetically. “Duty calls. But let’s continue this later?”
At your nod, he squeezes your hand briefly before jogging back inside. You make your way back to Haas, butterflies still fluttering wildly.
Once the race starts, you have to work to restrain your enthusiasm as Oscar quickly moves up the field. More than once, you catch your lips curving upward as he deftly overtakes a competitor, and have to rearrange them into careful neutrality.
A discreet glance sideways shows your family members focused intently on Kevin’s efforts in the Haas. You allow yourself a small smile. Watching Oscar race with no one the wiser feels like getting away with something deliciously secretive.
The checkered flag finally waves after 58 intense laps. Your heart leaps as the McLaren crew begins celebrating Oscar’s podium finish. You have to force yourself not to join the applause as he climbs from his car, settling for clasping your hands tightly to contain your glee.
Meanwhile, Kevin finishes in 18th position while his teammate Nico suffered a mechanical retirement. You paste on an encouraging smile, tamping down your excitement over Oscar’s podium.
“Nice recovery there at the end, Kevin. Surely the team can build on this result in the next race.”
Privately, you think Haas would be lucky to keep a wheel attached long enough to make it to the end of a full race, let alone fight for points. But you keep that thought to yourself for now.
As your family rises to congratulate a dejected Kevin on completing the race, Isabella leans in close to whisper in your ear. “Not a great showing, I dare say. Perhaps you are considering transferring allegiance to a certain papaya team instead?”
You press your lips together to contain your smile. Trust Isabella to have guessed your conflicted loyalties.
“Indeed,” you murmur back. “One must be open to supporting all teams in the spirit of global unity.”
Isabella’s eyes dance with mirth, but she simply links her arm through yours, giving a sage nod. “Spoken like a true diplomat.”
As the celebrations kick off for Oscar’s first home race podium, you sneak glances over your shoulder, hoping for another glimpse of him through the chaos.
Someday soon, perhaps you’ll be able to cheer for him openly. For now, you hold the image of his smiling face in your mind as you reluctantly follow your family back out of the disappointing Haas garage.
If nothing else, this surprise-filled weekend has shown you that your heart will not be so easily commanded. And it seems to have rather fixated itself on a certain charismatic McLaren driver.
***
You hover near the paddock exit, half hoping to catch one last glimpse of Oscar before your departure. Your family made their polite farewells to the Haas team and you seized the opportunity to slip away.
You’ve just resigned yourself to missing him when hurried footsteps sound behind you.
“Princess! Wait up!”
You whirl around to see Oscar jogging towards you, face freshly showered but still flushed with elation. He draws up before you, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet.
“I’m so glad I caught you before I had to leave,” you smile brightly. “I had to come say a proper congratulations for your podium first!”
Oscar ducks his head bashfully even as his eyes shine. “And, well, I hoped maybe you were cheering me on out there today?”
Heat floods your cheeks as you let out an embarrassed laugh. “You know I can’t answer that. But I will say you drove brilliantly and I’m so pleased for your result.”
Oscar’s grin widens, clearly reading between the lines of your diplomatic answer.
“Well I’m glad I could end your weekend on a high note after the woeful introduction to Formula 1 from Haas.”
You groan good-naturedly. “Ugh yes, I think Kevin was grateful when I finally made myself scarce from that garage of doom.”
Oscar chuckles before his expression turns wistful. “I suppose this means you’ll be heading back to Denmark now though?”
You shake your head, curls spilling over your shoulders. “Oh no, we’re spending a few more weeks visiting my mother’s family in Tasmania first.”
At Oscar’s look of surprise, you elaborate, “My mother is originally Australian. Her family is from Tasmania.”
Understanding dawns on Oscar’s face. “Well how about that! Danish royalty certainly seems to have a taste for us Aussies.” He winks playfully.
Heat blooms in your cheeks but you rally to return his banter. “I suppose we do. Though from what I hear, McLaren seemed rather keen on Danes once upon a time as well.”
A rather in-depth Google search earlier that day taught you that Kevin Magnussen once raced for the papaya team. You rather wish he never left, if only so you did not have to suffer through the tedium of being in the Haas garage for the past two days.
Oscar barks out a laugh, eyes dancing with mirth. “Too right, you’ve got me there.” His laughter fades to a soft smile. “But I can’t say I blame my predecessors in the slightest.”
The tender look in his eyes makes your breath catch. Before you lose your nerve, you hurriedly dig out your phone.
“I should give you my number. So we can keep in touch.”
Oscar’s face lights up as he scrambles for his own phone. You quickly swap devices, inputting your contact info and trying not to notice how his name looks lighting up your screen.
Once you’ve traded phones again, an awkward silence descends. You clutch your phone tightly, unsure how to say goodbye when this thing between you feels so new and delicate.
Oscar clears his throat, scuffing his shoe against the pavement. “Well, I suppose I should let you get on your way ...”
“Right, yes ...” You trail off, searching for the right words. Because as silly as it sounds, the thought of not seeing Oscar’s smile for who knows how long makes your chest unexpectedly tight.
Acting on impulse, you step forward to wrap your arms around his shoulders in a hug. Oscar’s arms immediately curl around your back, clutching you close.
You breathe him in, imprinting this moment in your memory. The noise of the paddock fades away until it’s just this — the two of you suspended in time.
Far too soon, Oscar pulls back reluctantly. His eyes search your face like he’s trying to memorize it.
“Travel safely, Princess. I’ll see you soon.” His voice holds a promise.
You nod, not trusting your voice. With a final squeeze of his hand, you turn and walk steadily towards the exit. Your bodyguards fall in step behind you.
You don’t look back, though you can feel Oscar’s gaze on you until you disappear from view. As your car pulls away, you finally chance a glance backwards, just in time to see Oscar still watching wistfully after you.
Your breath escapes in a shaky exhale and you clutch your phone like a lifeline. Everywhere else suddenly feels much too far away.
***
You collapse back onto your bed, phone already pressed to your ear before the first ring even finishes. Oscar picks up on the second, voice warm and teasing as always.
“Eager today, are we Princess?”
You roll your eyes even as your lips quirk up. “Oh hush, you know you wait just as anxiously for my calls.”
Oscar’s answering chuckle makes your heart skip a beat. “Guilty. I’ll gladly admit your voice is the highlight of my day.”
Warmth floods your cheeks as you get comfortable against the pillows. “Flatterer. Now distract me from the drudgery of royal life with some F1 gossip. How go things in the glamorous world of racing?”
“Oh where to even start!” Oscar launches eagerly into the latest paddock drama — teammate clashes, contract disputes, and salacious hookups. You listen eagerly, living vicariously through his tales.
“Meanwhile Lando has been his usual chaos gremlin self ...” Oscar continues, recounting his teammate’s latest antics.
You laugh until your sides ache, picturing the outrageous scenes. “Honestly, I don’t know how McLaren copes with you two!”
“We keep things lively, that’s for sure,” Oscar agrees, audibly grinning. “Although we’d love an even livelier paddock with a certain Danish princess around again ...”
He leaves the statement hanging tentatively. You chew your lip, heart racing as you gather your courage.
“Funny you should mention that … I’ve been thinking lately that it would be nice to attend a race again soon.”
Oscar’s sharp inhale crackles through the phone. “Really? You’d come to another race?” His voice turns playful. “Any particular reason for the sudden interest?”
You laugh, hoping he can’t hear the breathlessness in it. “Oh you know, miss the atmosphere, the excitement ...” You pause before adding softly, “Getting to see a certain Aussie driver again.”
Oscar makes a pleased little noise that sends butterflies swirling wildly. “Well I’m sure that driver would be absolutely thrilled to see your face in the paddock again.”
Warmth spreads through your chest, emboldening you further. “As it happens, my godmother is the Queen of Belgium. So it should be easy enough to arrange an appearance at the Belgian Grand Prix.”
“That’s perfect!” Oscar enthuses. “Spa is one of my favorite circuits too. Say you’ll be there?”
His boyish eagerness melts your heart. “I’ll speak to our communications secretary this week. I’m sure they can make it happen.”
“Brilliant.” The tender hope in Oscar’s voice finds its mirror in your own thudding heart. A new chapter is beginning.
You chat longer about lighter topics until Oscar reluctantly says he should get some rest before practice tomorrow.
“I suppose I should let you go then ...” He trails off reluctantly, neither wanting to be the one to end the call.
You clutch the phone tighter, casting wildly for an excuse to keep him on the line. “Wait, you haven’t told me what ridiculous outfit Lando is wearing today!”
Oscar huffs out a laugh. “Trust me, words don’t do justice to the monstrosity. I’ll send pictures so you can experience it fully.”
“It’s a deal.” You know you’re only delaying the inevitable, but the thought of hanging up is unbearable.
Just then, the bedroom door crashes open and your younger brother Christian strolls in.
“Hey Y/N, Mor wants to know if … is that Oscar you’re talking to?” He raises his eyebrows knowingly.
You frantically shoo him away but Christian swoops in and plucks the phone from your hand. “Sorry mate, gotta steal my sister back. Royal duties call and all that. But great chatting, bye now!”
Before you can wrestle the phone away, Christian ends the call with a cheeky grin.
You smack his shoulder indignantly. “You little brat! I was right in the middle of important diplomatic relations!”
Christian just cackles gleefully. “Oh yeah, I could tell. Your dopey romantic sighing was a big clue.” He laughs harder at your outraged stammers.
“Just you wait until you’re madly pining over someone, I’ll get my revenge,” you threaten.
But inside, not even Christian’s teasing can diminish your euphoria. The promise of seeing Oscar again soon eclipses all else.
***
Your heels click rapidly over the pavement as you sweep through the Spa paddock gates. Bodyguards trail discreetly behind but you barely notice them, eyes scanning the bustling crowd for one face.
And then you see him. Oscar stands just ahead, back turned as he bounces on his toes, head swiveling in search of you.
Joy bubbles up in your chest. You break into a run, calling his name. “Oscar!”
He whips around, eyes lighting up when they land on you. His arms open wide and you launch yourself into them with a breathless laugh.
Strong hands grip your waist, swinging you in an enthusiastic circle before setting you back on your feet. Neither of you make any move to step back, standing tangled together.
“You came,” Oscar murmurs, voice awed like he can’t quite believe you’re real.
You lean into him, his warmth chasing away the months spent missing him. “Of course. After all, I made a promise to a certain driver.”
Oscar’s answering smile outshines the sun. Reluctantly, he loosens his hold, keeping one hand entwined with yours.
“Well then, allow me to escort you inside properly.” He presses a quick kiss to your knuckles before leading you towards the paddock entrance.
After scanning your VIP guest pass, courtesy of Oscar, you pass through security hand-in-hand, giddy smiles fixed in place.
The paddock buzzes with activity but you only have eyes for Oscar as he guides you straight to the McLaren garage.
Mechanics glance up curiously as you enter behind Oscar. He squeezes your hand, leaning in close.
“Ready to meet the team, Princess?” At your answering nod, he steers you confidently through the organized chaos.
You run a suddenly nervous hand over your hair as Oscar approaches a genial looking man conversing with a slimmer bearded man.
“Zak, Andrea — there’s someone special I want you both to meet.”
The two men turn, eyebrows raising in polite expectation. Oscar gently tugs you forward.
“This is Crown Princess Y/N of Denmark. Y/N, meet Zak Brown, our CEO, and Andrea Stella, team principal.”
Zak’s eyebrows climb higher but he recovers smoothly, extending a hand. “Your Royal Highness, welcome. We’re honored to host you in our garage.”
You return his firm handshake. “The honor is mine, thank you. Your team has been so welcoming.”
After greeting Andrea as well, Oscar steers you further inside just as a mop of fluffy brown hair zooms by.
“Oscar, mate! There you are, I’ve been ...” The words die on his lips as he spots you, mouth falling open comically. His eyes dart between you and Oscar rapidly.
“Lando, come meet the princess!” Oscar calls out cheekily.
Lando snaps his jaw shut, looking utterly bewildered but offering you a hasty bow. “Your Highness! I mean, lovely to meet you, really.”
Amusement flickers through you at his gobsmacked expression. Oscar shoots you a playful wink over Lando’s shoulder as he scrambles to regain composure.
“But, wait.” Lando glances between you again in confusion. “You mean all those times you cooed ’good morning, Princess’ over the phone … you were talking to an actual princess!”
Oscar bursts out laughing while you press a hand to your mouth to smother your own giggles. Lando flushes but eventually joins in your laughter.
After extracting a promise to explain everything later, Oscar steers you away so they can focus on final prep.
“I’ll make sure you’re taken care of during the race before I have to suit up,” he promises, getting you settled with refreshments.
The anticipation builds until finally the cars are screaming away from the grid in a blur of color. Your nails dig into your palms as positions shuffle wildly on the first lap.
But soon Oscar settles into a rhythm, battling wheel to wheel with Lewis Hamilton. You’re on your feet with every overtake, yelling yourself hoarse.
The final laps loom with Oscar still fighting for a podium finish. But suddenly disaster strikes for the leaders. Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc collide attempting to lap a backmarker on the Kemmel Straight.
You watch in disbelief as both the Red Bull and Ferrari limp to a stop off the track, clearing the path for Oscar to sweep through into the lead.
The McLaren garage roars in elation as Oscar maintains the gap and finally, finally crosses the line to claim his maiden Grand Prix win.
Chaos erupts as a stampede of papaya uniforms makes its way towards parc fermé but Oscar’s performance coach Kim grasps your arm urgently. “Quickly, he’ll want you there for this!”
Kim rushes you down towards the area where Oscar guides his car to a stop. He vaults out, pumping both fists and clambering atop the chassis in triumph.
Your breath catches at the sight of his windswept hair and exultant grin. As McLaren swarms Oscar, his gaze catches on you at the barrier, pressed close by Kim.
In two strides Oscar is right there, joy and adrenaline shining in his eyes. His hand cups your cheek … and then his lips find yours.
The roar around you fades away. For one perfect, suspended moment, your world narrows down to Oscar’s lips slanted over yours, his fingers tangled in your hair.
When you break apart, eyes flying open, the full reality crashes back in. But with Oscar’s breathless laugh warming your skin, the rest of the world no longer matters.
***
You pace the plush hotel carpet, nerves jangling as you await the imminent video call with your family. Since Oscar’s podium kiss yesterday, you’ve been hyper aware of your phone blowing up with notifications but too anxious to check them.
A brisk knock precedes your royal secretary poking his head in. “The call is ready whenever you are, Your Highness.”
Squaring your shoulders, you take a seat at the polished desk as the large monitor springs to life. Your family’s faces fill the screen, ranging from sympathetic (Isabella) to highly amused (Christian).
Before you can get a word in, the royal PR advisors elbow into view, expressions like thunderclouds.
“Your Royal Highness, might we have a word about this … incident from the race?” The chief advisor’s tone drips disapproval.
Ice trickles down your spine but you keep your face neutral. “Of course.”
“I trust you’ve seen the coverage?” At your hesitant nod, the advisor continues, “Then you understand what an embarrassment this is, how damaging to the dignity of the crown.”
You clench your jaw, anger rising. But he barrels on, “Such scandalous behavior, and broadcast globally! You must see how this recklessness reflects poorly on Denmark.”
The rest of the advisors murmur emphatic agreement. Your cheeks burn in humiliation even as you desperately blink back furious tears.
“The narrative has already spiraled out of control. Such associations cannot be tolerated from the future queen.”
The scorn in his tone ignites your temper. But before you can spit out a scathing retort, a commanding voice interrupts.
“Enough!” Your father’s stern face fills the screen, pinning the advisors with an icy glare. They recoil, mouths snapping shut.
Satisfied, your father turns to you, expression softening. “My dear, you’ve done nothing wrong. What matters most is that you’re happy.”
Hope flickers tentatively inside you as the advisors gape. But your father silences them with another quelling look.
“I know a thing or two about duty versus matters of the heart.” His eyes soften, finding your mother. “I’ll not see my daughter denied the same chance at love that brought me such joy.”
Your mother smiles gently, affection shining through the screen. On her other side, Isabella squeezes her shoulder in solidarity.
The fight drains from the advisors under your father’s resolute gaze. With a few grumbled concessions, they disconnect from the call.
Your muscles uncoil in relief as your attention returns fully to your family. Isabella waggles her eyebrows.
“Soooo … looks like someone had an eventful race!”
Heat floods your cheeks but you can’t suppress a giddy smile. “It just sort of happened in the heat of the moment.”
“This Oscar must be something special,” your mother remarks kindly.
Your insides turn to mush at the memory of Oscar’s kiss. “He really is. I can’t explain it, but it feels … right with him.”
Your normally stoic mother looks touched. “Then he has my blessing.”
On her other side, Christian smirks. “Yeah, yeah, we get it, you’re in looooove.” He exaggerates a swoon, cackling when you stick your tongue out at him.
“Hush dear, let your sister be happy,” your mother chides, swatting his shoulder before smiling indulgently. “Reminds me of another young prince long ago, besotted with an Australian girl ...”
Your father laughs, eyes crinkling. “Too right, darling. Clearly our Y/N takes after me.” He winks at you. “We Danes do seem to have a weakness for Aussies.”
You groan good-naturedly at the gentle teasing, buoyed by your family’s support. With their love behind you, the rest no longer matters.
You conclude the call with hugs blown through the screen and a heart full to bursting. No matter what the coming days hold, you won’t be facing them alone.
Later, a hesitant knock interrupts your contented musings. You open the door to find Oscar, eyebrows pinched anxiously.
But at the sight of your radiant smile, the tension melts from his frame. His hands settle comfortably on your waist like coming home.
“So ...” he begins, nose scrunching up adorably, “Think your family will let you keep me around?”
You answer by pulling him down into a long, sweet kiss. When you finally separate, foreheads pressed together, Oscar sighs out, “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Your answering laugh fills the space between you as he lifts you effortlessly into a spinning embrace. The setting sun gilds the hotel room in amber, basking you both in warmth and promise.
Let the world say what they will. You’ve made your choice, the only one your heart would allow. And with Oscar’s arms encircling you now, you know you’re right where you belong.
***
“Come on, it’ll be great! When’s the next chance you’ll get to come down under?”
Oscar’s pleading face fills your laptop screen, bottom lip poking out beseechingly. You try to stand firm, but your resolve is crumbling.
“I don’t know … won’t I be imposing on your family time?”
Oscar waves a hand breezily. “Nah, Mum and Dad have been hassling me nonstop to bring you for a visit. Trust me, they’ll smother you with Aussie hospitality.”
You chew your lip thoughtfully. A trip together does sound tempting. And you’re endlessly curious to see where Oscar grew up.
Sensing your wavering, Oscar presses his advantage. “There’s so much I want to show you! The beach I learned to surf at, my favorite cafes and shops ...”
His voice turns coaxing. “And just think, falling asleep under the southern stars ...”
Your heart flutters traitorously. Oscar knows your weakness for astronomy. With a defeated huff, you nod.
“Oh alright, you’ve convinced me. I’ll see if I can clear my schedule for next month.”
Oscar whoops, pumping a victorious fist. “Yes! You’re gonna love it, I promise.”
The rest of the call passes in eager planning until Oscar reluctantly disconnects to start his day. As the screen goes dark, butterflies swell in your stomach. A whole trip together!
The weeks crawl by agonizingly until finally you’re boarding the royal jet bound for Melbourne, giddiness rising with each mile.
Oscar is waiting when you deplane, sweeping you up joyfully the second your feet hit the tarmac. You cling to him, breathing in the scent of home you’ve missed so much.
As the hug extends well past proper etiquette, your bodyguard Henrik pointedly clears his throat. You spring apart, blushing when you meet his knowing gaze.
Oscar just grins unrepentantly, grabbing your hand to lead you towards where his parents are waiting.
You spot them immediately — Oscar’s smile mirrored on his mother’s face and his kind eyes reflected in his father’s crinkled gaze. They hurry over, clasping your hands warmly.
“Your Royal Highness, we’re so honored to finally meet you!” His mother gushes. “Oscar’s told us so much, I feel as if we know you already.”
You smile, charmed by her easy manner. “The honor is mine, Mrs. Piastri. Please, call me Y/N.”
She pats your hand merrily. “Of course, dear! And you must call me Nicole. Now come, let’s get you home and settled.”
The ride to Oscar’s childhood home passes quickly, filled with lively conversation. His parents’ sweet banter reminds you so much of your own.
When you arrive, Nicole loops her arm through yours, bustling you inside. “We’ve freshened up Oscar’s old room for you, I do hope it’s comfortable.”
You take in the posters of racing legends and cricketers adorning the walls, the cluttered bookshelves full of well-loved texts. “It’s perfect, thank you.”
“Excellent!” Nicole claps her hands. “Now, you two get settled. Dinner will be ready shortly.”
She disappears down the hall with a parting wink that makes Oscar flush beet red. You stifle a laugh and let him tug you further inside.
Dinner passes in a blur of delicious food and easy laughter. Chris’ eyes twinkle knowingly as he refills your wine.
“We’re just delighted to finally meet the girl who’s made our Oscar so happy.”
Oscar covers his face in exaggerated mortification, but his fingers squeeze yours under the table. You lift your joined hands to brush a kiss over his knuckles when his parents aren’t looking.
The peaceful mood continues as Nicole breaks out photo albums. You coo over baby pictures of Oscar, smothering laughter at his gap-toothed grin and wild hair.
Yawns eventually take over and everyone reluctantly shuffles off to bed. In Oscar’s room, you borrow his old karting club shirt to sleep in.
Oscar looks up from turning down the duvet, eyes darkening as he takes you in. “This was a terrible idea, you looking so cute in my clothes.”
You giggle and kiss the tip of his nose before climbing into bed and patting the space next to you. Oscar obliges, pulling you close and nuzzling into your hair.
Outside the window, the infinity of the southern skies beckons. But here in Oscar’s arms, you have everything you need.
Oscar hums contentedly, dropping a kiss to your hair as your eyes drift closed.
“Sweet dreams, my princess,” he whispers. You float off cradled in his warmth, perfectly at peace.
The rest of the trip passes in blissful domesticity — lazy beach days, intimate dinners, long talks under the stars. Meeting Oscar’s family feels like coming to a second home.
On your last night, you creep outside to sit curled against him on the back porch, committing every detail to memory.
“I don’t want this to end,” you whisper into the quiet night.
Oscar presses a lingering kiss below your ear. “It’s only the start for us.”
And basking in his touch, the infinite potential of the future unfolding before you, you know he’s right. This is just the beginning.
***
You smooth your hands over your dress, peering anxiously out the palace window overlooking the winding driveway. Any moment now, the car bringing Oscar should pull through the gates.
It’s his first time visiting the palace and meeting your family officially as your boyfriend. You know they’ll love him, but nerves still flutter in your chest.
The crunch of tires on gravel draws your gaze back outside. You watch Oscar emerge from the car, craning his head back to take in the towering palace facade.
Unable to wait any longer, you gather your skirts and hurry downstairs just as he steps inside the grand entryway.
Oscar turns at the click of your heels, face melting into a smile. In a few quick strides, he sweeps you into his arms, spinning you joyfully.
You cling to him, breathing in the soothing scent of home you’ve missed. When he sets you down, hands come up to frame your face tenderly, thumbs brushing over your cheeks.
“There’s my beautiful girl. I’ve missed you so much, Princess.”
Heart swelling, you lean in to capture his lips in a kiss that conveys weeks of longing. Oscar responds urgently, fingers tangling in your hair to keep you close.
A pointed cough interrupts your reunion. You pull back to see your brother Christian smirking knowingly.
“Well now I see why you were so eager for Oscar’s visit. Should I come back later?”
You stick your tongue out at him even as a blush stains your cheeks. Taking Oscar’s hand, you lead him towards the family wing.
“Come on, everyone’s excited to finally meet you properly.”
Voices carry from the dining room as you approach. Inside, your family looks up, faces alight with warmth and curiosity.
Your father strides forward first, clasping Oscar’s hand firmly. “Oscar, welcome. We’re delighted to have you here.”
Oscar returns the handshake graciously. “The honor is mine, Your Majesty. Thank you for the invitation.”
More greetings follow before your mother guides everyone to the table. Oscar pulls out your chair, pressing a discreet kiss to your temple as you sit. Happiness bubbles up inside at having him here with your family.
Dinner passes enjoyably, conversation flowing. Oscar charms them all effortlessly with his quick wit and humor. Laughter fills the room, the atmosphere light and intimate.
With dessert finished, your siblings seize their chance to grill Oscar playfully.
“Sooo tell us,” Isabella begins, propping her chin on her hands. “What exactly are your intentions with our dear sister?”
Oscar just grins, unfazed. “Why, to make her happy every single day, of course.”
You melt at his simple sincerity, grasping his hand under the table.
“Good answer!” Christian crows. “But know if you ever hurt her, you’ll have the entire Danish army to answer to.”
Despite his teasing tone, you know Christian means every word. Oscar inclines his head solemnly.
“You have my word such a day will never come. Her happiness means everything to me.”
Your siblings appear satisfied, moving on to pepper Oscar with questions about his career and interests. He takes their antics in stride, witty comebacks drawing fond laughter from your parents.
The relaxed family atmosphere reminds you so much of that first dinner at Oscar’s childhood home. Your heart swells with quiet joy at how seamlessly he fits here too.
Eventually Oscar politely extracts you both, citing early flights in the morning. Alone in the hall, he sags against the wall in exaggerated relief.
“Whew, your family is something else! I think that interrogation was more intense than any press conference.”
You laugh and swat his shoulder before lifting on your toes to kiss him sweetly. “You were wonderful. I’m so happy you’re here.”
Oscar’s eyes soften. “Me too, Princess. Being here with you feels like home.”
Heedless of any lingering eyes, you kiss him again under the twinkling chandelier.
A loud retching sound interrupts you. “Ugh, get a room you two!” Christian complains, dodging your swat.
Oscar just tugs you closer with a chuckle. “Don’t worry mate, I plan to.”
He silences Christian’s protests with another searing kiss. And surrounded by Oscar’s warmth, you can’t bring yourself to care who sees.
***
Moonlight filters through the curtains, bathing the room in a soft glow. You lay curled against Oscar’s chest, fingers tracing idle patterns over his heart.
The steady rhythm soothes you, but your own heart feels anything but calm. There’s something you need to discuss, but nerves stall your tongue.
Sensing your tension, Oscar’s hand comes up to sift gently through your hair. “Penny for your thoughts, love?”
You lean into his touch, gathering courage. “I was just thinking about the future. Our future.” You twist to meet his gaze. “I know it’s still early days for us, but if this continues to get more serious ...”
You trail off uncertainly, but Oscar’s eyes are warm with encouragement. Bolstered, you continue.
“There are certain expectations that come with being attached to the heir to the throne. Traditions and duties to learn.”
You watch Oscar’s face closely, but he simply nods thoughtfully. “Of course, that makes sense. I’m happy to learn whatever I need to.”
Relief trickles through you. You prop yourself up on one elbow, smiling softly down at him.
“For example, even before my mother was engaged to my father, she decided to learn Danish. The protocol and duties, the public role … it was a massive life change.”
You take a bracing breath. “I don’t expect you to make such changes overnight. But someday, if this continues on the path we hope ...”
You trail off meaningfully. Oscar’s hand comes up to cradle your face. “Hey, if being with you means learning Danish, or attending stuffy banquets, or anything else, I’m in this 100%.”
His eyes bore into yours. “I’ll do whatever it takes to build a life together.”
Emotion clogs your throat. You have to swallow thickly before responding. “Well, maybe we start small then. How about I teach you a few phrases?”
Oscar grins, pulling you back down against him. “Ja, det lyder perfekt.”
You jerk back in surprise, swatting his chest. “You brat, have you been practicing without telling me?”
Oscar’s eyes dance with laughter. “Maybe just a few key phrases. Wanted to surprise you.”
His smile turns tender. “I’d love nothing more than for you to teach me, sweetheart.”
Happiness bubbles up inside you. You snuggle closer, thinking. “Alright, let’s start simple. Like hej simply means hello.”
Oscar repeats the phrase dutifully, brow furrowing in concentration. You cover his hand with yours.
“Jeg elsker dig,” you murmur, gazing into his eyes.
“Jeg elsker dig,” Oscar echoes. “What does it mean?”
Sudden shyness has you ducking your head. “It means I love you.”
Oscar’s sharp inhale lifts your head. He grasps both of your hands, staring deeply into your eyes.
“Jeg elsker dig,” he repeats reverently.
Emotion clogs your throat. You lean in, whispering against his lips, “Jeg elsker dig, Oscar.”
The kiss starts soft and unhurried, a confirmation of feelings conveyed best without words. Oscar’s arms wrap securely around you as the kiss deepens, pouring every ounce of love and promise into it.
When you eventually break apart, Oscar keeps you cradled close, dropping kisses into your hair. “What else can you teach me?”
Happiness bubbles up at his tentative Danish endearment. You settle back against him, whispering translations as his steady heartbeat lulls you towards sleep.
But too soon, Oscar is reluctantly packing to leave, both clinging to these last private hours before he has to set off for the next race.
You wind yourself around him, unwilling to let go. Oscar holds you close, murmuring promises of next visits and calls into your hair.
As you finally part at the airport, his whispered “jeg elsker dig” warms you from the inside out. No matter the miles between you, your hearts remain entwined.
***
You adjust the diamond clips in your elegantly twisted updo, scanning your reflection critically. The deep blue gown hugs your frame perfectly, but nerves still flutter in your stomach.
Because tonight, Oscar will be attending his first official function as your partner — a lavish gala in honor of the new children’s hospital bearing your mother’s name.
A knock precedes Oscar peeking his head in, hands clapped over his eyes. “Safe to look?”
You smooth your skirt with a shaky exhale. “Yes, come in.”
Oscar drops his hands, mouth falling open. “Wow. You look absolutely stunning tonight, my love.”
He takes your hands, eyes roving appreciatively over you. “Going to have to beat all the envious blokes away with a stick.”
You laugh, swatting his shoulder lightly. “Oh hush. You look rather dashing yourself, Mr. Piastri.”
And he does in his impeccably tailored tuxedo, hair swept back neatly. You brush a piece of imaginary lint from his lapel, nerves melting away under his warm gaze.
“Shall we?” He offers his arm gallantly. You lay your hand atop it, spine straightening.
“We shall.”
The ballroom glitters under fairy lights as you make your entrance, immediately garnering interested looks and murmurs. On your arm, Oscar draws admiring glances of his own with his rakish good looks and easy confidence.
You greet various dignitaries and philanthropists, Oscar a steady, charming presence at your side. As you speak with the hospital’s key figures, his hand at the small of your back anchors you.
But as the speeches drag on, Oscar leans in subtly. “Is it terrible I’m already bored senseless? I’d rather actually meet these kids we’re meant to be helping.”
You hide a smile behind your wine glass. The same restlessness plagues you as schmoozing patrons preen and prattle.
As dessert wraps up, an idea strikes you. You catch Oscar’s eye, tilting your head meaningfully at a side exit before excusing yourself discretely.
Understanding dawns on his face and he trails casually after you. In the entry hall, you hurry to a secluded alcove, grabbing his hand.
“Quick, while we won’t be missed. Let’s actually go see the children.”
Excitement flashes across Oscar’s face. “Brilliant thinking. Lead the way, Princess.”
Adrenaline courses through you as you sneak out to the waiting car, bodyguards eyeing you curiously.
“Rigshospitalet, please. Quickly.”
At the children’s hospital, you sweep inside, Oscar at your heels. The receptionist gapes as you approach.
“So sorry to drop by unannounced. We were hoping there might be a chance for us to visit with some of the patients?”
The receptionist’s mouth opens and closes before she stutters, “O-of course, Your Highness, right away!” Clearly your boldness has paid off.
You exchange exhilarated looks with Oscar as she pages a nurse to escort you up. On the cheery pediatric ward, you peek into rooms, greeting curious families.
At one doorway, a gasp stops you short. A little girl sits up in bed, pointing.
“Mama, it’s the princess! And her boyfriend!”
You glance at Oscar to find him rubbing his neck bashfully. Clearly his fame extends beyond the F1 sphere here.
You laugh and enter slowly. “We were hoping we might visit you, if that’s alright?”
The girl — Else — nods eagerly, blond braids bouncing. Her mother rises to curtsy but you wave her off kindly as Oscar produces a small plush racecar from his pocket, to Else’s delight.
As you chat and play with Else, joy lights up her face. For a short time, she’s just a normal girl again. Your chest aches at her bright spirit despite her poor health.
All too soon, a nurse taps her watch. As you make your goodbyes, Else throws her thin arms around your waist.
“Thank you! This was like a fairytale.” Over her head, her mother mouths a tearful thank you of her own.
You hug Else gently before kneeling down. “It was our honor. You stay strong, little one.”
Her returning whisper warms your heart. “Don’t worry, I will!”
Similar scenes play out in room after room. Your cheeks ache from smiling but it’s a welcome ache. The children’s awed joy makes the real reason for tonight crystal clear.
Watching Oscar kneel patiently as a shy boy shows him a prized toy car, your heart clenches with love. Catching your gaze, Oscar’s eyes mirror the same emotion.
Far too soon, your bodyguards notify you it’s time to return before your absence draws notice. A chorus of disappointed groans follows you out.
Back at the gala, you slip in just in time for closing toasts. No one seems the wiser about your little detour.
Under the table, Oscar squeezes your hand. The contact says it all — this is what truly matters. Not accolades or commendations, but joy brought to hurting hearts.
You know you’ll be back. Both of you. Not for galas or acclaim, but for the chance to see young faces light up, if only for a moment.
Late that night, you slow dance alone in the empty ballroom, music and laughter faded. Oscar’s arms circle you from behind, chin tucking onto your shoulder.
“I think tonight was the most important royal function I’ve ever attended,” he murmurs.
You cover his hands with yours, leaning back into him with a contented sigh. No more words need be said.
The rest of the world may see events like tonight as social currency and networking. But you hold the truth in your heart — the only currency that counts can’t be bought, only given freely through love.
***
Two Years Later
You smooth your hands over your dress, pulse thrumming as you await the imminent news conference. Just hours ago, the palace formally announced your engagement to Oscar, sending the public into a frenzy.
Now, you’re about to face the media together for the first time as an engaged couple. Press stands crowd the palace gardens, cameras poised and ready.
At your side, Oscar seems calm and collected, fingers threaded loosely with yours. But you sense the storm brewing beneath his tranquil surface.
You reach up and gently adjust his suit collar, fingers lingering on the lapels as you meet his eyes. He gives you a small, grateful smile before you both turn to face the expectant crowd.
Because today also brings another announcement — one that will upend Oscar’s world irreversibly.
Your father steps forward first to formally confirm the engagement and expound on Oscar’s character. As he returns to your side, Oscar squeezes your hand and you nod in encouragement.
Oscar clears his throat, stepping closer to the microphones. “Thank you, Your Majesty. Y/N and I are over the moon at the chance to spend our lives together.”
He gazes at you softly before continuing. “I’m truly the luckiest man in the world to have won the heart of Denmark’s lovely princess.”
You have to resist the urge to kiss him senseless then and there. Cameras flash brightly as Oscar details your romantic (and heavily abridged) love story, punctuated with charming wit.
But gradually, his mirth fades. With another fortifying hand squeeze, he steels himself for the harder part.
“While I’m elated at this new chapter ahead, it also brings difficult changes. I’m announcing my retirement from Formula 1 following this season’s conclusion.”
Murmurs ripple through the crowd. Oscar’s grip tightens as he pushes forward.
“As a member of the royal family, I will no longer be able to continue racing competitively. I am grateful to have achieved my dream this year of winning the championship.”
His voice falters briefly and your heart clenches. Racing is Oscar’s passion — having to walk away is unimaginably hard.
Oscar visibly gathers himself. “But as difficult as this is, marrying Y/N is worth any sacrifice. She is my true dream now.”
He turns to you then, eyes glistening. “The honor of being your husband eclipses any trophy or medal. You are my greatest victory.”
Emotion clogs your throat and without thinking, you wrap him in a fierce embrace. The rules of propriety fade away, only your pride and love for Oscar remain.
His arms clutch you close as flashes erupt around you. But in this moment, you see only each other.
Eventually you separate and Oscar takes your hand once more, gracing you with a tender smile. He turns back to the microphones for one last address.
“Til Danmark og det danske folk. Jeg lover at tjene jer med ære, respekt og kærlighed.”
The Danish press reacts first, visibly surprised and impressed at Oscar’s speech in their native tongue.
You blink back a fresh wave of tears at his poignant promise — to serve Denmark with honor, respect, and love.
Overcome with emotion, you step forward to the microphones as well.
“Oscar’s love for me and Denmark is clear to all who meet him. I am truly blessed to have found such a selfless, caring partner.”
Your voice wavers with feeling. “Though it grieves me to see his racing career ended prematurely, I could not be more proud of the man he is.”
You reach for Oscar’s hand, gazing at him through tear-filled eyes. “He gives up much out of love for me. I only hope I can bring him a fraction of the joy in return.”
Oscar’s fingers tighten around yours, eyes shining with affection. Cameras flash furiously at your raw display of love and emotion.
But you remain lost in Oscar’s eyes, the rest of the world fading away. In this moment, all that matters is your shared devotion and the bright future stretching before you.
Questions start flying from the excited press corps but Oscar politely extracts you both, ceding the floor to the waiting palace officials.
Alone inside once more, Oscar sags against the wall in clear emotional exhaustion. You wrap him in your arms, heart aching for the pain this transition causes.
Oscar clings to you tightly, face pressed into your hair. “I meant every word,” he whispers fiercely. “You are my whole world now.”
You draw back just far enough to meet his eyes, hoping he can see the depths of your love reflected there.
“I know, min kæreste. We’ll face this new future together.”
The answering kiss speaks what words cannot. No matter what comes, your love remains constant.
A new path lies ahead now, one you will walk hand in hand, till the end of your days.
***
Five Years Later
The roar of engines draws nearer as your car nears the Copenhagen street circuit. In the seat beside you, Oscar bounces his leg restlessly, face alight with anticipation.
In the backseat, your three-year-old daughter, Margrethe (affectionately called Maise for short), mimics her father’s excitement, chattering cheerfully about anything and everything.
You reach over to still Oscar’s jostling knee, smiling indulgently. “Easy there, we’ve barely arrived and you’re already wound up.”
Oscar shoots you a boyish grin. “Can you blame me? It’s been so long since I was last in the paddock. Feels like a lifetime ago.”
Your heart swells with quiet awe once more at the sacrifices Oscar has made for your future together. While racing still runs through his veins, his duties as Crown Prince of Denmark now take precedence.
But today offers a joyous reunion, with Oscar instrumental in bringing Formula 1 racing back to Danish soil for the first time since 1962.
As the car pulls through the paddock entrance, Oscar cranes his neck eagerly, drinking in the familiar organized chaos. Before the door even opens, you hear a familiar voice shouting.
“He lives! The prodigal prince returns!” A blur of McLaren papaya hurtles towards Oscar as he steps out.
Oscar just manages to brace himself before Lando Norris tackles him in an exuberant hug. Laughter bubbles out of Oscar as he returns the embrace.
“Good to see you too, mate. It’s been way too long.”
You round the car to find Oscar’s former team already swarming him, clapping his back and jostling each other good-naturedly to greet their long-lost driver.
Oscar’s eyes shine as he falls back into easy banter, trading inside jokes and reminiscing. With Maise balanced on your hip, you hang back contentedly, letting Oscar have this moment.
As the reunion finally winds down, Lando gestures to you and Maise. “And who do we have here? Don’t tell me this little beauty is your daughter?”
Oscar beams, waving you both over. “She is indeed! Lando, meet my little girl.”
Lando pretends to stagger back in shock. “No way, our little Oscar is all grown up and domesticated now!”
Oscar shoves him playfully before sweeping Maise into his arms. “What can I say, my fast living days are behind me now.” He kisses Maise’s wavy hair, eyes finding yours. “I’ve got all I need right here.”
Your insides turn mushy at the adoration in his voice. The years have only deepened your love further.
More drivers trickle over to greet Oscar, ribbing him good-naturedly about his new royal status. But the obvious affection underlying the teasing is clear.
Zak Brown claps Oscar on the back. “It’s so good to have you back, even just for a day. You and your family should stay, watch the race from the garage!”
For a fleeting moment, naked longing flashes across Oscar’s face at the thought of experiencing race day excitement again up close.
But reality settles back in quickly, his expression turning regretful. “That’s a lovely offer, truly. But I’m afraid we’ll have to make our way to the royal box.”
He bounces Maise gently, tone wry. “Some of us have a job to do handing out trophies later.” Maise giggles and tugs at his ear happily, blissfully unaware of the wistfulness simmering beneath her father’s smile.
You slip your arm through Oscar’s, offering a comforting squeeze. His answering smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
After more fond farewells, you exit the nostalgic bubble of the garage. Oscar pauses, taking a moment to just breathe and gather himself.
You shift Maise to your other hip, wrapping your free arm around his waist. Oscar leans into you gratefully, pressing a kiss to your hair.
“Can’t believe it’s been five years already,” he murmurs. “Feels like another lifetime.”
You smile up at him sadly. “I know, my love. But look at everything you’ve accomplished for Denmark in that time. This race wouldn’t even be happening without you.”
Oscar huffs a small laugh. “Too right. Who needs driving when I’ve got you two anyway?”
He tickles Maise playfully, eliciting delighted giggles. The melancholy edge has left his eyes now, replaced by contentment.
Hand in hand, with Maise toddling happily between you, the three of you set off together towards the royal box. The Danish Grand Prix awaits, along with the bright future you continue building as a family.
This may no longer be Oscar’s world, but he now shapes the path for future generations of drivers. After the race, as Oscar graciously awards the beaming winner while Maise excitedly cheers from the side of the podium, you know this is precisely where he’s meant to be.
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bitstream24 · 10 days ago
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Unlocking SAE J1939 Development with the Arduino-Due-Based Programming Kit
Discover the Arduino-Due-Based SAE J1939 Programming Kit by Copperhill Technologies — a complete development platform for building, simulating, and monitoring heavy-duty vehicle networks using the J1939 protocol. Includes hardware, software, and detailed guides for ECU prototyping, diagnostics, and telematics.
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socialvijay · 2 years ago
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Accelerate Your Web Development Skills with the Full-Stack Web Development In 7 Days Ebook
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Discover the ultimate resource to fast-track your web development journey! The Full-Stack Web Development In 7 Days Ebook is a comprehensive guide that covers front-end and back-end development, offering clear explanations and practical examples. With its organized structure, interactive approach, and thorough coverage of essential technologies, this ebook equips beginners with the foundational knowledge needed to excel in the dynamic field of web development. Don't miss the chance to accelerate your skills and unlock endless possibilities in just 7 days!
To get the access of Full-Stack Web Development Ebook click here
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cats-thoughts · 2 years ago
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Valkyrie (feat. Laura Brehm) ~ Varien
(note: this song is part of a trilogy! I highly recommend listening to Valkyrie II: Lacuna and Valkyrie III: Atonement to get the full experience!)
YIPPEE 14 MINUTES OF SONG :D /gen
okay definitely not the most creative answer, but this song is very Ender Knight.
WAIT NO. NOW THAT I'VE HEARD THE OTHER 2 SONGS THIS IS 100% THE GOD OF THE INFINITE
basically, it's a mc oc of mine, an explanation for why so many roleplay worlds have limited lives now.
In the past- very past, I'm talking Indev Minecraft- there were many gods, and one of them was the god of the infinite. Alongside it was its sister, minor god of the Farlands.
The god of the infinite brought respawn throughout every world it went to. Alongside this, it always respawned itself (whether it wanted to or not) and could theoretically take respawn away from anything.
The other gods were afraid of that power and in an attempt to kill the god of the infinite, accidentally killed its sister, farlands, as well. The weapon was an overwrite of respawn, a permadeath blade, but when they tried to use one on the infinite- well, it didn't work. Unfortunately being basically the god of respawn, it literally cannot NOT respawn. Farlands wasn't so lucky, though.
Infinite, Blinded by rage, set about the goal of killing literally everything. Forever. And obviously, the other gods tried to stop it. It was a very, very long fight, between the Infinite and all of the other gods. It wasn't the best fighter amongst them, or even the best magic user. It just kept coming back. Every time the Infinite respawned, it got all of its energy back and was fully healed. A Million Papercuts, and whatnot.
The gods would kill it, and it would be back within seconds, back to flinging itself at them over and over again until one died, and then another, and so on. So eventually they started sending new gods after it, weak but in great supply as the world churned them out to replace dead gods, one after the other, to hold their own for as long as possible before dying. 300 years of fighting, never letting the Infinite rest or respawn, and it finally tired out.
It fell into a deep sleep, (sometime during beta, near 1.9) and the other gods locked it in the void for what they hoped would be eternity.
Unfortunately without its magic, respawn became strained, more and more worlds turning Hardcore (words deleted upon player death, leaving nowhere for the player to respawn, and therefore they simply never do) and infinite respawn worlds becoming rarer and rarer- now there were worlds where you only had 3, or 10, or 100. Or ones where you had to kill other players to steal their respawns.
So they brought it back, locked in a mortal form, without any memories or powers. Now it wanders worlds, exploring, utilizing the fact that it never seems to stay dead to defeat monsters and bosses and escape even the most dangerous of situations unharmed. And everywhere it goes, infinite respawn follows.
It's so traumatized <3
This was literally inspired by the fact that I played a Minecraft map and then, instead of being good at the game and defeating the bosses like I was supposed to, like for example dodging the attacks, I just. Stood still and rapid fired my weapons at them until I died, and then did the same thing again after I respawned. I got over 1000 deaths. I did TRY to play the game as intended but despite having played this game for like. 8 years. I'm SO bad at it you have No idea I am just Awful at it-
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luvbabydoll · 25 days ago
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strawberry lip balm ♡
simon “ghost” riley x ditzy!reader
a/n: this is inspired by this post from @bitterrfruit
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he comes in just after two.
the doors hiss open like they always do, sticky from the summer heat and the busted rubber lining you keep forgetting to tell your manager about.
you don’t look up right away.
you’re busy.
counting nickels into neat little stacks.
chewing absently at the corner of your strawberry lip balm because you lost the cap again and now it’s tacky at the edges.
the radio crackles low beside you. love song. old and scratchy. something slow.
it takes you a second to feel him.
big.
heavy.
the weight of something unfamiliar at your periphery.
you glance up.
and freeze.
he doesn’t belong here.
that’s the first thing you notice.
black from head to toe. thick boots scuffed white at the toes. jacket hanging off broad shoulders like armor. gloves tight enough to squeak when he flexes his hand.
and a mask.
not a ski mask. not the usual dumb knit ones the gas station cameras catch on idiots who can’t even cover their tattoos.
this is bone-white.
painted like a skull.
hollow black eyes staring at you.
flat. empty.
you stare back.
a half-beat too long.
then—automatic, like muscle memory—
“pump six is still down,” you tell him softly. “if uhm that’s what you’re here for.”
your voice barely carries.
thin like tissue paper.
you shouldn’t have said anything.
he doesn’t answer.
doesn’t move toward the snacks. or the fridge. or the stupid plastic rack of lighters shaped like fish.
he moves toward you.
slow.
steady.
uncoiling the gun from his jacket like it’s just part of him.
like an afterthought.
your lips part.
soft pink.
glossy and bitten raw at the corner.
“oh,” you whisper.
small.
like you’re embarrassed.
like you interrupted him.
“register.”
the word drops like lead.
hard. heavy.
your stomach flips.
not all the way into fear — not yet — but something colder than nerves.
something that tells you this is real.
this is happening.
“o-okay,” you breathe.
because what else are you supposed to say?
you move automatically.
fingers shaking as you punch in the code.
3-3-7-4.
your nails click stupidly loud against the plastic keys. glittery pink polish chipped at the tips because you can never sit still long enough for them to dry.
the drawer sticks.
of course it does.
you yank.
too hard.
your dumb little heart-shaped name necklace snags against the counter lip and pulls you back like a leash.
“shoot,” you mumble, tugging at it, all clumsy and flustered. “m’sorry. it does that sometimes.”
he doesn’t answer.
but you feel his eyes on you.
dragging over every awkward little movement like he's watching something breakable.
like he’s wondering how you’ve survived this long.
finally—mercifully—the till pops open.
you grab the bills in two hands.
instinct, maybe.
like handing out change to an old man instead of giving your life away to a man with a gun.
you hold them out.
both hands.
palms up.
careful. like he might bite.
he takes them.
rough-gloved fingers scraping yours.
big.
hot.
gone too fast.
but he doesn’t leave.
your heart kicks.
that’s when it sinks in.
the wrongness.
the weight of him still standing there.
not moving.
watching.
“turn around.”
it’s not a request.
your breath stutters.
“…why?”
like an idiot.
like a child.
“turn,” he says again. slower. rougher.
pause.
“…checking for a panic button.”
oh.
okay.
that makes sense.
that feels safe. familiar. like movies. like protocol.
you swallow.
turn.
pink hoodie riding up at your waist when you shift.
he’s closer now.
right behind you.
close enough to feel the heat of him curl up your spine.
close enough to smell him — cold metal and gun oil, sharp like ozone.
“lift it.”
your stomach twists.
but you do it.
because he told you to.
because he sounds like someone who doesn’t like repeating himself.
fingers fumbling with the hem of your hoodie.
pulling it up slow.
revealing the soft dip of your lower back.
bare skin warm under the fluorescent lights.
the peek of pastel polka-dot underwear sitting crooked on your hips.
silence.
heavy.
pressing.
then—
low.
dark.
almost like he can’t help it—
“cute.”
your throat goes dry.
your heart in your mouth.
“…uhm,” you whisper. “thank you?”
stupid.
soft.
sweet.
like you really meant it.
and behind you—still staring, still close enough to catch your strawberry lip balm on the air when you breathe—
he laughs.
quiet.
sharp.
mean.
like he’s already decided.
like he’s not leaving alone.
he steps closer, and the heat of him is on your skin again. it’s so close that you feel it under your ribs. he leans down. not enough to touch, but enough that you can feel the roughness of his breath near your ear, heavy and slow.
your hands are still at your sides. frozen.
then, like it’s no big deal, he says, “lock the door.”
your brain goes blank for a second, because it’s the middle of the night and you’ve never been asked to do something like this before.
“…what?” you’re stalling. and it’s the dumbest thing you could do right now, but your lips part, like it’s something normal to question.
“lock the damn door,” he repeats, his voice sharp and cold, but still measured, like a thread of control pulling tighter.
your pulse quickens, but you don’t move. he’s too close. too much.
the radio hums. static crackles in the background. the pressure is unbearable, but your hands still don’t move. you’re waiting for him to do something, but he just stands there, still, patient, like he’s in no rush. like you’re the one who’s supposed to figure it out.
you blink again, feeling like the world’s fogged up, and your lips part—finally—you walk over to the door.
it clicks into place with a soft thud.
a lock.
not a simple one, either. the one that keeps the night shift safe. you should’ve locked it sooner.
but now? now, you’re so aware of everything around you. the slight squeak of your shoes on the tile floor. the hum of the flickering lights. how you feel his eyes all over your back.
he watches every move. every single one. like he can already tell how your hands are trembling just trying to twist the key in the lock.
not yet. don’t let him know yet.
you turn back to him. he’s still standing, arms crossed loosely in front of his chest. mask still on. still too quiet.
“what… now?” you whisper. your voice sounds like it’s not even your own.
"now, we take our time," he answers, a slight, dark chuckle curling in the air between you.
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1K notes · View notes
always-just-red · 9 months ago
Note
hihihi! sylus girlie here. as a college student i often never take breaks whenever im working and often stay up late finishing up assignments. then i stress out but never tell anyone and suffer in silence:’) i was wondering if you could do something similar with sylus x mc where mc often forgets to take breaks at the hunters association and is always the first the volunteer for missions so she could improve.
but then it’s starting to take a toll on her and is so so stressed, but feels bad about venting to someone or saying no to new missions.
maybe one day she’s doing a simple task like cooking herself dinner (or something) but accidentally burns herself and she just ends up breaking down and decides to call sylus and he immediately goes to her. :’)
feel free to decline or change anything! i just like the thought of someone comforting u when ur overworked and stressed bc i wish someone would do that to me lol.
Fast-tracked this one for you, anon! I'm really sorry you're having a tough time right now, and I hope this brings you a bit of comfort- remember, Sylus would want you to take care of yourself! Good luck with all your studies, and feel free to send in another request if ever you need it! 🥰
Technical Difficulties
Sylus x Reader 🩸
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Summary: You're not very good at asking for help when you're struggling. Thankfully? You don't always need to.
Genre: fluff + comfort ft. a very domestic Sylus!
Warnings/Additional tags: stressed reader (has a lil bit of a breakdown!), some swearing, uses of 'kitten' and 'sweetie', Sylus is so soft here he should come with a health warning tbh
| Word count: 2.4k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!
In the event of a wanderer incursion where evacuation of citizens is obstructed or otherwise not viable, association protocol 32.3-A dictates that you should first… That you should first… What?
Your pen is poised above the blank space where your answer should be. 32.3-A is a general procedure: something to do moving people to the nearest shelter. Or, wait— are you supposed to try to contact support, first?
You drop your pen with a huff and flop face-down onto the mock exam. It’s too much. Too much information, too much responsibility. Open textbooks are spread over your desk and around your head like an unholy halo— stacks of them, filled with codes and procedures. They’re supposed to be helpful, but they’re not; they’re drowning you.
Your phone pings and you glance up. Text from Tara:
Hi! Hate to be a bother, but did you finish glancing over that practice question for me? xx
Shit. You’d completely forgotten. You straighten, reaching for your laptop so you can load up your latest emails. You’ve got time to look over it; the exam isn’t for another two days. Breathe, okay? You have time.
Seven unread emails. What? You scan over them frantically. Two from the Captain: accepting additional mission requests you’d applied for. Were those both this week? One from Nero: you hadn’t sent in that finished report. Three from your colleagues, all scrambling for help with the exam. One from Tara:
Thanks for saying you’d look over this for me! You’re the best at this stuff!
Okay, so: Tara’s practice question. Nero’s report. Your own practice questions. Then… dinner? Maybe that should come first. You’d skipped lunch— had one slice of toast for breakfast. But you don’t wanna cook; cooking takes time, and you’ve got none. None.
Your phone is ringing, snapping you back to reality, and you peek over at it. Sylus?
“Hi,” you greet as you put him on speaker. On your laptop, you’re opening up Tara’s attachment.
“Are you free tomorrow?”
Always straight to the point. “Uh… yeah?” you frown as you read through your friend’s work. “Why? What d’you need?”
Sylus sighs through the phone. “That was a test, sweetie. You failed.”
“Yeah, well…” you murmur, highlighting a sentence with your cursor. “Add it to the list.”
The man doesn’t find that funny. The phone is quiet— too quiet. “Are you alright?” he asks, just as your gaze wanders to check if the call has disconnected.
“Mmhmm.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, Sylus.”
You stare down at your phone. He’s waiting for more, but you won’t give it to him. You’re one word away from slipping, and you can’t let the dam crumble, especially in front of him. He’s smiling from the phone call background: a photo he insisted would ‘ruin’ his image when you took it last week.  
“I need to go, okay?” Your eyes are shining.
“Okay,” he says softly.
There’s a bleep as the call cuts out, and the photo is gone. Waiting beneath it is another text from Tara, and one from Xavier: Nero told me to txt U bout a report??
You swallow the ache in your throat and slump down on your desk again.
You wake up with a start, your head ringing. The tangerine sky outside your window’s turned dark— your laptop, too— and light spills from your desk lamp, yellow on white pages. There’s more, and you turn, tracing it back to where it leaks through the crack of your almost closed bedroom door.
You hadn’t left any lights on in your flat. You hadn’t switched on your lamp, either.
Tiredness is dulling your thoughts and your senses, but you know you feel uneasy. There’s something in the air: smoky, but not unpleasant. You can hear something as well. No— two things. A faint, almost imperceptible hiss, and a more obvious humming.
Hunter instincts kick in. You roll open a drawer of your desk, snatching up one of your standard-issue pistols and removing its safety with a click. You stalk up to the door, your trained footsteps near silent. You take a deep breath, clearing your head. One. Two.
Three! You shoulder the door open, leaping through with your gun trained forwards.
At the other end of your sights, Sylus turns, an eyebrow raised. Your kitchen stove seethes behind him, and he gives you a once over as he sluggishly raises both hands. “You flatter me, kitten,” he smirks in surrender, looking between your weapon and his: a spatula.
You lower your gun, your heart still racing. “I could have killed you, Sylus!”
“That’s the spirit.” His hands drop, too.
“How did you even get in here?”
He’s turned back to the stove, and he’s using the spatula to push something around a frying pan. “Hmm…” he muses, then blink— he’s gone. He’s at your fridge a second later, materialising from thin air. “I wonder,” he finishes as he reaches around for something.
Show off. “You know how I feel about you telepor…” No. “Phas…” No. “Magic…king…?” By now he’s watching you over his shoulder. “You know— that thing you do.” You’re twinkling your fingers. “What do you even call that?”
“Magicking, yeah.”
You huff in response and he laughs, walking back over to where he’s cooking two steaks and preparing a salad. You’re still coming to terms with the fact he’s even here, looking... quite frankly ridiculous, because he’s wearing your apron. It’s too small for him. Baby pink. Frilly, too.
“You know how I feel about you magicking into my home,” you mutter distractedly, because actually? He’s kinda pulling it off. His sleeves are rolled up past his elbows, tight on his arms. “Use the door like a regular person, you psychopath.”  
“Where’s the fun in that?” He sounds smug. Ugh, he must feel your eyes on him; he must know. You think he’s toying with the idea of calling you out, but he doesn’t, and when he does speak, the smugness is gone. “Mephisto saw you were sleeping. I didn’t wish to disturb you. You sounded… tired. On the phone.”
Guilt twinges in your chest as you draw up beside him. “Is that why you’re here? Playing housewife?” You pick at a frill on the apron.
“Poke fun all you want,” he sneers. “This shirt costs more than your entire wardrobe.”
“Snob.”
“Ha.” You have to retract your hand as he threatens it with the spatula. “Watch yourself, sweetie. I’ll remember that the next time you ask to ‘borrow’ my card.”
You laugh gently. Now that’s a threat. You’re about to tell him so when you hear a ping from the other room, and your heart sinks. Just a single sound, and you’re back to where you were an hour ago, at your desk with the weight of the world on your shoulders.
Sylus hums in acknowledgment as you excuse yourself and hurry back to your workspace, snatching up your phone. You missed three calls while you sleeping: all from Xavier. He’s been texting you, too.
Nero’s yelling at me
Wants to talk to U
Can U pick up? Pls?
It’s one report, for gods’ sake. You feel your chest tightening again. You just needed to proofread it, but it’s probably fine, right? You wake your laptop out of standby; you’ll just send it as it is. “I’ll just be a minute, Sy,” you call out. “Need to finish one thing.”
He mumbles something in response, and you imagine it’s for the best you can’t hear it. Your keyboard clacks as you tap out a quick email to Nero, then you surf your files for the report he so desperately wanted. It should be… here. You attach it. Hit send.
Nothing happens.
Huh. You hit send again. Then again— still nothing. You groan, trying to back out of the email. None of your keys are working. Your cursor is stuck. “Oh, come on,” you release on an impatient breath. Switch it off, switch it on again? You hit the off button. The screen goes black.
With a sigh of relief, you wait a moment before switching it on again. The screen stays black.
“No, no, no, no,” you plead quietly, but it doesn’t cooperate. Your phone rings and you snap, hitting more buttons: Answer. Speaker. “What?” you hiss.
“Whoa. Hi…?” Xavier’s voice is cautious. “I don’t know if you saw my texts, but Nero—”
“The report, Xavier! I know! I know!” You try holding down your laptop’s power button. “I’m trying to send it, but my shitty computer won’t—”
“No way!” Tara’s voice comes in on the other line; did they both get the night shift? “Hey you! Did you get a chance to—”
“No, okay?!” you practically cry out. “No! Can you two just back off? Please!”
“Oh, sorry, I…” Tara sounds upset, then distracted. “Wait, Xavier wants to speak to you.”
“Are you okay?” he asks after a second.
Okay? You just want everything to stop. “I’m fine. Shit, tell Tara I’m sorry. I am sorry, Xavier, I just… I just need my laptop to…”
Work. Work! Nothing’s working. Half of your files are on there. How much of it is backed-up? Panic is setting in, gripping your body like ice. Your throat hurts and your mouth is dry, the dam is breaking and you can’t stop it. Tears prick at your eyes as you blink at the blank, hopeless screen. Your reflection stares back at you.
You let out a sob, expelling days of frustration and exhaustion. Everywhere you look there’s something you need to do, something you need to learn, something you need to finish. You can’t. You clasp a hand over your mouth, muffling your own cries.
Xavier is speaking— saying something over the phone— but you can’t hear him.
The light changes, and there’s a figure above you, lifting the phone from the desk. “They’ll call you back,” the shadow says. Sylus.
“Wait, who is this?” Xavier.
“That’s Skye!” Tara.
Your friends’ distant voices cut out as Sylus ends the call. He sets the phone down again, nudging your laptop out of view, then lowers himself until all you can see is him: his red eyes, softer than you’ve ever seen them. “Come on, sweetie,” he coaxes, guiding your hands over his shoulders.
You understand what he’s asking of you. His arms wrap around you and you hold him tighter, letting him lift you out of your chair. He feels warm, his skin ever so slightly flushed from where he’s been standing over the stove, and he pulls your legs around his waist, letting him carry you with ease.
With your face buried in his shoulder, you can’t tell where he’s taking you, and you don’t care. His shirt is going damp against your cheeks. You want to stop crying, but you can’t with the taste of your tears on your lips. You feel weak. You feel pathetic.
Something solid is behind you, and Sylus is setting you slowly down on the kitchen counter. He’s away from you for a moment— moving the frying pan off of the heat and turning a dial on the stove— but then he’s back, standing between your legs, standing close. You’re looking down until his hand is under your chin, lifting it with the delicate touch one employs when inspecting a flower that might break.
He shushes you without a hint of impatience. “Look at me,” he directs quietly, and when you do, he unrolls his shirtsleeves— drawing the cuffs over his hands so he can use them to wipe your eyes. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”
You do— you tell him everything. The hunter’s exam. The textbooks. The extra patrols you’ve been signing up for. The work you’ve been doing for your friends. The stupid report. The even more stupid computer.
Sylus listens collectedly, nodding his head and issuing the odd hum of understanding. He listens to all of it, and when you’re done, he pushes your hair back from your face with a sympathetic sigh. “Oh, sweetie.” A tendril is tucked behind your ear. “You should have said something.”
“I know.” Your gaze is still shy of his. “But how can I? I need to do this— be this— for everyone.”
His hands are on your cheeks again, drawing back your focus. “You’re just one person,” he says. “You— just you— and that’s all you need to be. You’re stubborn, and strong, but you’re not invincible. Even Linkon’s shiniest hunter is allowed to have limits. Everyone does.”
“Even you?” you snivel, setting him up for a quip.  
Nothing. He smiles. Shrugs. “Even me.”
It’s hard to believe when he’s staring back at you, oh so solid, oh so perfect. Always a picture of strength: of fiery determination or calculated coolness. Everything in extremes; nothing by halves. Except… his hair is slightly dishevelled from where he’s been working away in the heat. There’s a damp patch on his shirt. He’s wearing your pink apron, and there’s mascara on his sleeves.
Then there’s the way he’s looking at you.
It shifts when you finally look back. He drops his hands from your face and pulls back a little. “You do a lot for your friends,” he continues with confidence, but he’s rubbing his neck, “and they care about you. You should afford them the chance to return the favour. It’s only fair.”
“You’re right.”
“…Good.”
Perhaps it’s the fact you’ve vaguely composed yourself— or the way you’re watching him like you’re seeing something new— but he straightens self-consciously, rolling his shirtsleeves back up as his eyes go sharp: assuming their usual severity.
“You’re too soft, kitten,” he scolds, reaching out to tousle your hair until you’re glaring daggers from behind a curtain of it. “How many times do I have to tell you? You put yourself first. Always. No-one else matters.”
There’s quiet for all of a second. He can’t help correcting: “Well, except me, of course.” The apron’s crooked, and he flattens it with a brush of his hands. “Any time spent with me qualifies as self-care. You really should know that by now, sweetie.”
Your mouth curls, but you haven’t quite got it in you to laugh— not yet. Stretching his neck with two sideways tips of his head, Sylus returns to his post at the oven, where the meal he’s cooking has almost certainly gone cold. You watch as the stove flickers back to life. The man is humming again, and though the food might yet be salvaged, whatever melody he’s attempting is long-past recognition, let alone saving.
You chuckle to yourself.
And you can’t see it, but Sylus is smiling, too.
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anonymousad · 2 years ago
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Shelterwood: a follow-up and apology
someone reached out to me after publishing my Shelterwood crowdfunding post with some very valid stuff that I want to address. they mistakenly sent it non-anonymously (something I confirmed with them before just responding to the Ask), so in the spirit of keeping things unidentifiable around here I am going to screenshot the entire message (so you can know I'm not selectively cutting anything out) and then I'll respond to it in chunks:
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A Genuine Apology
so let's start with the first chunk of text:
I'm going to be straight with you: while there were absolutely some points you made about the Shelterwood crowdfund that I agreed with, like how unreasonable the goal seemed for a show produced by a novice showrunner, something's really sticking out here. That thing is that Stephen Indrisano and Nigel McKeon are both young, white, non-binary novice showrunners who secured some high-billing talent and picked unreasonably high crowdfunding goals, but you treated one of them with a lot of grace and understanding... and then turned around and not only accused the other of essentially being the problem with the current state of podcasting, but also called them cis in the process despite having acknowledged their pronouns earlier in your write-up. That was... certainly something. It's almost like you had a specific point you wanted to make, so you just sort of conveniently forget that Stephen is non-binary to make it. That or you don't actually think Stephen is non-binary and were engaging in some passive-aggressive gatekeeping, which also sucks, just in a different way.
this is 100% something I fucked up on, I will readily admit that. my accidental erasure of Stephen's identity as a non-binary person is not okay, intentional or not.
I wrote the initial post gradually over the course of just over a week, top to bottom, and then did a quick skim of it at the end to make sure things were still up-to-date in accordance with any updates to the campaign itself. a result of this is that between when I started the post (where I included Stephen's pronouns of "he/they)" and when I was writing some of the later parts I had forgotten this. I think part of the reason is that the campaign is not really about Stephen, so it isn't like there are consistent references to him as an individual. in the few places there are, such as the intro section of the main text and the FAQ, "he" is used exclusively, which I think mistakenly put that in my mind as Stephen having a male gender identity because I hadn't seen a self-identification as being non-binary on their website or Twitter. but someone deciding to use a specific set of pronouns in the text of something like this (to avoid confusion or for any other reason) does NOT invalidate their use of other pronouns elsewhere. similarly you don't have to outwardly proclaim your gender identity for it to be respected and not assumed as cis.
I am genuinely very sorry about this, it was a mistake and I am in the process of editing the original post to reflect Stephen's proper gender identity.
now then.
let's talk about the difference between Nigel (Among the Stacks) and Stephen and the way I approached them, because you're right that there was a difference.
I think a key way that these two projects differ is that one of them was very clearly made by someone who didn't know what they were doing and was in over their head. Among the Stacks was a clear trainwreck from the moment they started revealing how bloated the cast and crew were. I had many conversations with other creators during that early time where we were all wondering how this thing could function with so many cooks in the kitchen, and how you could have a coherent story with that many characters. it was clearly a product of someone new and over-excited who didn't have a real idea of how to do what they were dreaming of.
in contrast, Shelterwood seems to be genuinely well-thought out and approached like it was created by someone who has done their research and been part of the community for a while. it has a full concept with a clearly outlined size and goals and is a very realistic sounding first project. if it weren't for the goal and the rewards we wouldn't be talking about it at all. as a pitch it is perfectly reasonable.
I went a bit easier on Nigel because just from looking a lot of us could tell that Among the Stacks was going to end in disaster. we didn't know when or how, just that there was no way a project like that could actually succeed. I also knew from interactions between Nigel and other people that she was not very good at taking critique or hearing other people out on stuff that they didn't agree with. I went into that post with the intention of being harsh but fair, because I wanted Nigel to hear what I had to say and LISTEN. not just brush it off as "someone is jealous of my amazing idea and so they are being mean". I was still a bit mean in that post at some parts, I will admit that. my tone can swing a bit far on the sarcastic side, especially the longer I spend on a given post digging into things.
Shelterwood is full of people who should know better, something that it makes a point to brag about. it isn't just one person's dream project that they don't know how to wrangle, Stephen is clearly a proficient showrunner to have pulled all of this together (and I do genuinely find the show's concept to be interesting, even if I didn't really communicate that in the post as much as I could have). Stephen has ALSO been around the block a few times in regards to working on audio dramas, whether or not they have helmed their own. this means that from the start my expectations for them were higher.
my goal was not to accuse Stephen of being "the problem", but I think that this campaign is INDICATIVE of a lot of the "the problems" going on right now with audio drama crowdfunding.
I did seriously think about pulling the last section into a completely separate post, but what I wrote applies to the context of this campaign and so I felt it was important to have that connection. if I had been able to fully communicate my thoughts on it before now, say for the Arden campaign, it would have been part of that post. but it took me a lot of time to get those words down in a way that actually communicated what I think the problem is.
I know having it as part of the Shelterwood post has an implication, and the implication is correct that this campaign is PART of the problem, but it isn't the whole problem.
It's also very weird that you lumped Shelterwood, Arden, Among the Stacks and Afflicted in with The Magnus Protocol, which was on an entirely different level. They're not comparable. Not a single one of those first four shows actually made their crowdfund goals. In Afflicted's case, the all or nothing state of the crowdfund means 100% of that money was returned to backers. The Among the Stacks crowdfund was cancelled. Which means that for 50% of your given examples, literally none of that money ended up tied up in those shows rather than being contributed to other, smaller shows. This is not comparable with The Magnus Protocol crowdfund situation, and I think you know that.
it's 100% true that The Magnus Protocol is on a whole other level than these other campaigns, I said as much in my write-up. it is not comparable and I wasn't attempting to compare nearly $1 million USD to $26,000.
what I was attempting (and may have failed) to do was to point out that what Rusty Quill did was change the playing field for the worse. when looking at those two numbers you can much more easily make attempts to justify the high goals being asked for here, because in comparison that's downright reasonable to what they raised.
as a note: TMP had a funding goal of £15,000 (approx. $19,500 USD). so they weren't actually asking for hundreds of thousands of dollars to make 3 seasons of a show. in fact, what they asked for is less than the campaigns I'm trying to call out here. that Kickstarter has a lot of things that were suspect about it and felt slimey and exploitative, but the asking price was not really one of them.
however.
just because they didn't ASK for that much money doesn't mean they didn't know it would happen (maybe not to that extent, but still). this still had the same impact, which from what I can tell is making some people think that audio drama crowdfunding is for making a profit.
as for the next point about none of the shows except for TMA 2 hitting their goals:
the amount they are walking away with isn't really the point.
at the end of the day, it's about the fact that the more stuff like this happens, the more it is NORMALIZED. and these kinds of goals getting normalized is harmful.
as an example, in the world of video games there is something called "microtransactions". for anyone who doesn't know, these are additional, small purchases you make in a game that you often have already paid upwards of $60-70 USD for. in the beginning, they were marketed as "just cosmetic" and not going to impact gameplay. and so people didn't fight back too hard when EVERY game started implementing them. but of course, what that did was move the bar. it normalized people paying extra money on top of their purchase for something that used to be included for free with a game. and so the companies started pushing the needle further. and further.
now, this isn't a direct parallel for a lot of reasons, but when greed is being put forward as normal again and again (even when it continues to result in failure) it starts to cement it as something "normal". something to be expected.
the larger problem here is that these are unsustainable amounts of money to be trying to get out of the community.
which connects to this next section:
Speaking of The Magnus Protocol, there's also an assumption being made here that someone deprived of the option of helping one of these shows reach their crowdfund goal is automatically going to donate to another show... and I need you to remember that The Magnus Protocol's final tally was something stupid like 4000% of their original goal. Lower crowdfunding goals don't stop people from contributing once that goal has been reached. People just keep donating to that project. None of those people were donating to make sure the thing got made- they were donating because they liked The Magnus Archives, and the hard to swallow pill here is that that doesn't mean they would've contributed to other crowdfunds otherwise. I have my own issues with The Magnus Protocol thing. But the statement that that crowdfund snatched money out of the pockets of smaller shows by having an unreasonably high goal just straight-up does not hold water. That's nothing. It's 4000% less than nothing. You're allowed to be mad that that campaign got such a ridiculous amount of funding when so many smaller shows are struggling. You don't need to couch it in pseudo-logic to justify feeling that way. We're all mad about it. It's okay.
this is definitely a good call-out, this person is right that someone not donating to one campaign does not mean that money will go to another. in a lot of cases, the only reason someone sees a campaign is because it is being promoted by the things they already like (in The Magnus Protocol's case that obviously being The Magnus Archives), and that means they probably aren't going to be choosing between every campaign that is out there and deciding where their $5 is going to go. they might just as easily pocket it and buy a nice coffee the next day.
and that absolutely sucks, because it would be nice for the love that some people have towards specific shows to be something that extends to the whole medium.
but I do think there's something to be said for feeling like even a small donation is making an impact. I would feel kind of bad to only be able to give $20 towards a $10k+ goal, it isn't even a drop in the bucket towards what is needed and if I care enough to donate to something I do want it to succeed. but that same $20 to a campaign only asking for $3000? that's a lot more tangible of an impact. enough so that I could feel good about splitting that $20 between two projects maybe.
that isn't 100% the point of what you were saying, I know that. the reality is that not everyone in this community has a general investment in the success of others.
I think where that becomes the biggest problem is when some people only seem to have an investment in themselves, and no one else. that's where these things become problems, when the larger needs of the community are ignored for the sake of a few who repeatedly succeed.
I'm kind of bleeding a bit into my response to the next part, so here that chunk is:
And do I agree that we as a community need to start talking about what is and is not realistic when it comes to crowdfunding? Yeah, absolutely. You have a point there. That's a valuable and timely observation and I'm glad somebody said it. Unfortunately, the value of that point was absolutely buried by the extremely obvious fact that this time, in this case, something about this project is personal for you. I don't know what it is specifically, but I do feel the need to ask: You are aware that Tal Minear is involved in the show as a graphic designer and minor actor, right? They have nothing to do with the crowdfund or the rest of production. Their name being attached doesn't mean they're secretly running the show. This is not Tal's show. They'd be credited as a producer if they were that involved. So why do you feel the need to keep bringing them up? Anyway, it's extremely difficult to take your analysis in good faith when it's so transparently motivated by some sort of personal distaste for somebody/the people in the project, and that's a shame, because some of the things you're saying have value.
I certainly didn't shy away from pointing a bit of a finger at Tal Minear for promoting this ideology, among others. their clear involvement in this project makes me immediately more suspicious, because Re: Dracula was a self-admitted cash grab. and that stain on their character is not going to go away for me.
it's less that it's "personal" for me, and more that this is a figure in the community that I have repeatedly seen presented as an expert that MUST be listened to. including by themself. ESPECIALLY when it comes to the matter of crowdfunding.
now, if I were friends with someone like that AND they were involved with my project that was about to have a campaign, would I not lean on that resource? even just for advice on how to put it together and what needs to be included. Tal just wrote a small little article for Descript that has some very generic crowdfunding tips, so they are arguably the most knowledgeable person involved in the campaign to go to for advice and feedback.
I know for a fact that Tal has given crowdfunding advice unsolicited to people running campaigns, usually in the form of asking why crew is not being paid appropriately (a valid question in most cases where actors tend to get a huge portion of the budget). so I can't imagine a world where they didn't give at least a little input to a friend for a show that they are actively involved in.
I don't think they are running anything behind the scenes, no, Tal is not part of some audio drama Illuminati. but I do recognize the high esteem to which they are held by MANY community members.
my goal was to call out the culture that has grown around audio drama crowdfunding, and the ways that I've seen it hurting most people who attempt to do it. I have noticed that Tal is a big part of what has normalized that.
as for the ways in which I brought them up, yeah I like to be a bit snide and I probably laid it on a bit thick. it's easy to get carried away in these things, especially towards someone that I am admittedly not a huge fan of.
that is the extent to which it could be considered "personal" for me, but I understand if you don't believe that or if that still had too much of an impact on taking the rest of what I said seriously. that is your choice and I respect it, it's just very difficult for me to separate out their involvement given what I know outside of this.
You're just completely undercutting that value by surrounding it with so much pointless nitpicking and snideness. What happened to "#but actually my intention is to be thoughtful and not mean"? You claim to be acting in the interest and defense of the community, but as the creator of a small podcast that nets me absolutely zero profit, I'm not feeling it. This feels like it's about you, not the rest of us.
this is absolutely fair.
I am just one person at the end of the day. I've talked to others, discussed the situation surrounding this campaign and others like it with them, but I am the one typing it down and inserting my voice and my take on it.
as such, I am not going to be a perfect mouthpiece for everyone's thoughts about this stuff.
I WANT to be one that is largely beneficial, however.
sometimes I lean a bit heavy into the snideness for the sake of keeping things interesting; these write-ups are LONG and as a writer I recognize you have to do something to keep people engaged so they actually absorb what you are saying.
is that the right approach? probably not for everyone, but it is part of a reflection of my own voice that it comes out like this.
"#but actually my intention is to be thoughtful and not mean" is something I wrote, something that I still want to keep in mind but sometimes I fail at that. in this case, I found it hard to stick to.
repeatedly seeing campaigns like this is disheartening to me, it wears me out. there is an amount of what a lot of people might see as "bitterness", but it's not really about any specific project or person.
I think my massive fucking rant at the end of that post about capitalism ruining audio dramas with the need to make money unsustainably says a lot about how I feel about the current financial state of the world. a lot of that "bitterness" is from this deep rage towards to the system, directed outwards where it can be. maybe the flow of it was a bit strong on this one, but it is still an accurate reflection of the way that I see things.
note, an accurate reflection to ME. it's okay if it isn't accurate to you, that's part of why the conversations need to happen.
part of why I do the math breakdowns for the budget is to help myself try and get a grasp on what those numbers mean. the human brain is not really formatted to understand large quantities of things, especially something that is usually intangible in those high amounts like money. I also do it because I want to give someone the opportunity to say "actually, you're wrong because this does add up. you are just missing part of the picture."
I know the way I approached this might come off as defensive, that's not my intention. I decided to break it down like this so that no one would think I'm trying to skip over feedback or ignore certain points that make me look bad.
everything that this person said to me is a valid response to what I wrote, including the things I pushed back on.
I am very grateful that they reached out to me, and I want to continue the conversation. ESPECIALLY if they feel that I did not hear them here.
my responses are just that. a response. they are not a claim of being right or these reactions being unjustified. we are all only in our own heads, and the conclusions we come to are usually based in rationality. my mind is open to being changed, I want to see as full a picture as possible.
if you disagree with what I've said, that is fine.
if you agree with what I've said, that is fine.
if you aren't sure, that is also fine.
we're talking about something complex and nuanced and just because I'm the one bringing these things up doesn't mean I have the RIGHT opinion or that I am the person who SHOULD be saying it.
there is a reason that I am anonymous here, and it's mostly because the conversation is more important than who is speaking.
as always, my inbox and Asks are open.
feedback welcome, I mean that.
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