#collaborative capabilities
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neturbizenterprises · 9 months ago
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Revolutionize Your Brainstorming with Idea Map AI!
In today's fast-paced world, creativity and innovation are essential for success. This video explores how Idea Map revolutionizes brainstorming sessions as an AI-powered tool that enhances productivity and creativity. With its intuitive design, users can easily create, edit, and organize ideas using drag-and-drop functionality.
For 15% Discount Use Code: NetSys
Idea Map's robust collaborative features empower teams to brainstorm together in real-time, regardless of location. By integrating with popular productivity software, it streamlines workflows while offering AI-generated suggestions that spark new connections. Join us as we dive into this game-changing tool!
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#IdeaMap #BrainstormingTools
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worstloki · 6 months ago
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it actually is concerning when people's activism doesn't include awareness of boycotting like what do you mean there's a flag in your username and you are openly encouraging people to buy disney+ and netflix subscriptions and eat at mcdonald's. what ARE you DOING!!
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marigoldbaker · 6 months ago
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been just going through this entire endgame stage letting an officer of the flaming fist chase us because when i took the reputation hit and killed him khalid said gorion wouldnt be proud of me. so obviously this is clearly the only other option. to be in constant combat while still running through all the necessary dialogue options to finish the game. we brought him into sorcerous sundries and he is in fact still trying to kill us while we buy potions. i want to see how far this man is going to chase us
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nicollekidman · 10 months ago
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the way they’re all enacting carmy’s vision even though every moment is a torment because they believe in him and his vision…. and he can’t even see it because he’s hearing sirens in his head and jealous over sydney’s ability to gently teach…. its SO sad!
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cookiesnerd · 5 months ago
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Canva is a user-friendly online design platform that enables individuals and businesses to create a wide array of visual content, including social media graphics, presentations, posters, and more. It offers an extensive library of templates, images, and fonts, making it accessible to users without prior design experience. Canva's intuitive drag-and-drop interface simplifies the design process, allowing users to produce professional-quality visuals efficiently.
Canva provides a free version that includes a substantial range of features suitable for most design needs. Users can access thousands of templates and a vast selection of photos and graphics at no cost. For those seeking advanced functionalities, Canva offers premium plans like Canva Pro and Canva Teams, which include additional tools, assets, and collaboration capabilities. These paid options are designed to cater to more complex design requirements and team-based projects.
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techdriveplay · 1 year ago
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The Impact of AI on Everyday Life: A New Normal
The impact of AI on everyday life has become a focal point for discussions among tech enthusiasts, policymakers, and the general public alike. This transformative force is reshaping the way we live, work, and interact with the world around us, making its influence felt across various domains of our daily existence. Revolutionizing Workplaces One of the most significant arenas where the impact…
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electronicsbuzz · 5 months ago
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stil-lindigo · 4 months ago
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COMMUNITY SUPPORT IN GAZA
isr*el has finally "agreed" to a ceasefire agreement. we'll see whether they'll actually abide by the terms, as history shows that the general trend of behaviour is that they agree and then continue to escalate and terrorise innocents in Gaza and Lebanon. but in this moment i'd like to share a few community funds. as well as donating to escape funds, please consider donating to these groups that shoulder the burden of rebuilding gaza's community.
1. The Sameer Project
provides shelter and support to high risk families, special needs children and adults and those with war injuries + chronic diseases.
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2. Translating Falasteen x Sameer Project collaboration
provides food, water, diapers, milk and medical aid in support of various families in Gaza. These funds help continue to keep this project afloat and capable of providing for the families who depend on them.
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3. The Zaynab Project
focused on providing food, water, cash aid, children's mental support and orphan sponsorship. They distribute winter clothing, hygiene kits, and free medical attention.
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4. Merciful Hands Doctors
a donations-based clinic started by a Palestinian doctor living in Gaza in Sept 2024 to provide free medical attention those who need it.
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fandomtrumpshate · 4 months ago
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Our Stance On Gen-AI
This year, for the first time, we've had a couple of reports from bidders that the FTH fanworks they received were produced using generative AI. For that reason, we've decided that it's important that we lay out a specific, concrete policy going forward.
Generative AI tools are not welcome here.
Non-exhaustive list of examples:
image generators like Imagen, Midjourney, and similar
video generators like Sora, Runway, and similar
LLMs like ChatGPT and similar
audio generators like ElevenLabs, MusicLM, and similar
Participants found to have used generative AI to produce a fanwork, in part or in whole, for their bidder(s) will be permanently banned from participating in future iterations of Fandom Trumps Hate.
Why?
We understand that there can be contentious debate around the use of generative AI, we know individual people have their own reasons for being in favor of it, and we recognize that many people may simply be unaware that these tools come with any negative impacts at all. Regardless, we are firm in our stance on this for the following (non-exhaustive) list of key reasons in no particular order:
negative, unregulated environmental impact
Over the years, you may have noticed that we’ve supported multiple environmental organizations doing important work to combat climate change, preserve wildlife, and advocate for renewable and sustainable energy policy changes. Generative AI tools produce a startling amount of e-waste, can require massive amounts of storage space and computational power, and are a (currently unregulated) drain on natural resources. Using these tools to produce a fanwork flies in the face of every environmental organization we have supported to date.
plagiarism and lack of artistic integrity
Most if not all generative AI models are trained on some amount of stolen work (across various mediums). As a result, any output generated by these models is at worst plagiarized and at best extremely derivative and unoriginal. In our opinion, using generative AI tools to produce a fanwork demonstrates a lack of care for your own craft, a lack of respect for the work of other creators, and a lack of respect for your bidder and your commitment to them.
undermining our community building impact
One of the best things to come out of the auction every year—we can't even call it a side benefit, because it's so central to us—is that bidders and creators form collaborative relationships which sometimes even turn into friendship. Using generative AI undermines that trust and collaboration.
undermining the value of participating as a creator
Bidders participate in Fandom Trumps Hate for the opportunity to prompt YOU to create a fanwork for them, in YOUR style with YOUR specific skill set. Any potential bidder is perfectly capable of dropping a prompt into a generative AI tool on their own time, if they wish. We hope all creators sign up with the aim to play a role more significant than “unnecessary middleman.”
In general, we try to be as flexible as we can in our policies to allow for the best experience possible for all Fandom Trumps Hate participants. This, however, is something we are not willing to be flexible on. We realize this may seem unusually rigid, but we ask that you trust we have given this serious consideration and respect that while we are willing to answer clarifying questions, we are not open to debate on this topic.
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sbcdh · 5 months ago
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Xafanian economic theories eventually made their way to the Soviet Union, where they were met with a mixture of derision and confusion. Broadly speaking, the idea of treating the market as a transcendent mind, capable of making descions and exerting will, was incompatible with Marxist economics.
Few writers even dedicated the time to respond to Xafa's work. In fact, the brunt of soviet responses came from local state-sponsored humorist columns, who mocked Xafa's meandering theoretical writing, and frankly strange greco-american jingoism. Even the title "A Theory of Hypnoeconomics" was mocked by satirist Fyodor Babkin as "a fitting name, as it requires being asleep to believe."
This is not to say that criticisms of Hypnoeconomics were popular. The reality is quite the opposite. The heyday of Xafanian economics were highly specialized. Most Soviet citizens were not even aware of such a niche writer, much less any mockery of her work.
This changed during the Regan years, with the widescale roll out of Hypnoregulatory practices. Soviet intelligencia had a veritable field day. To quote Babkin:
"The state religion of America has always been money. Now, they can afford to pay a priesthood."
The concept was even mocked in a popular Russian sitcom Sashka, in which the titular foul-mouth jokes:
"Take a piss on that [nonsense, referring to hypnostimulant JVH-1], does it make you "One with the toilet?""
However, this came on the back of more significant criticisms. More than nineteen Soviet economists collaborated on an internal documentation, recently declassified, detailing their research into hypnoeconomic practices. These are notable, in that they do not engage with the parapsychological elements of Hypnoeconomics in the least. Their criticisms are strictly material.
"The poor are still poor, the bourgeois still bourgois. Small market collapses have still occured, and while the Americans call this intentional, these claims are unfalsifiable. By any material measure, the Hypnoeconomics program is a profound waste of money, resources, and capital. Any potential benefits to market analysists enhanced with mind-altering substances are hampered in that their regulatory arm ultimately answers to existing financial apparatuses of bourgeois power."
This sentiment was perhaps better summarized by Babkin:
"If the Americans did have psychics who could predict the stock market. They would not listen half the time."
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pa1nrema1ns · 6 months ago
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Master and Apprentice || Sung Jin-woo (Part 1 of 3)
Siren!Jin-woo x Deaf!Omega!reader
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A/N - Hello everyone! This fic was inspired by the lovely @forbidden-sunlight's siren!au. We both collaborated on this piece and it serves as a direct sequel to her imagine, so do be sure to check it out first! This story picks up right where her imagine left off.
╰┈➤ Chapter Index
🪸 Prequel by @forbidden-sunlight 🌊 Part 2: Two Intertwining Melodies 🦈Part 3: In a Sea of Fire
Content warnings: 18+ MDNI, mythical creatures au, canon divergent, a/b/o dynamics, afab!reader, suggestive themes, obsessive thoughts, slightly ooc Jin-woo (he's very reverent towards Ashborn), mentions of violence, death, and despair, forbidden romance (humans and sirens are natural enemies), eventual yandere!Jin-woo.
Word Count - 3.6k
Summary - Sung Jin-woo seeks answers about his potential mate from Ashborn in the deepest depths of the abyss.
Dividers by @anitalenia and @firefly-graphics
After what feels like an eternity, Jin-woo comes to an abrupt stop. He wasn’t tired in the slightest, but he couldn’t finish this journey unless he was in the right frame of mind. If he was going to face the sea monarch, Ashborn, then he needed to compose himself. He was his mentor’s prized disciple, after all.
Resolute in his decision, Jin-woo pinches his brow, shuts his eyes, and releases a deep, suffering sigh. He had to stop ruminating over the useless ‘what ifs’ of his current situation and focus on the matter at hand. You emitting pheromones in his presence was proof enough that you were a compatible mate, but this would be meaningless if you were unreceptive to him. It also begs the question, was humanity even capable of consorting with sirens? In search of an answer, he reminisces about the tales of old passed down by generations of his kin, as well as the many speculations made by humans.
No one knew the exact origins of his species. Most humans assumed the progenitors were Persephone’s handmaidens, punished by Demeter after Hades had taken her daughter to the underworld and forced her into becoming his queen. Some stories also claimed that seafoam  birthed them, but Jin-woo scoffed at this particularly ridiculous rumor. A scholar had recently published an article on how sirens may actually be the offspring of the river deity Achelous and a divine songstress, citing notations from various mythos on this theory. In truth, reality was far simpler than any of these far-fetched narratives.
There was just no definitive explanation for the existence of sirens. They were not interchangeable with the peaceful denizens of the ocean, known as mermaids and mermen. While all fell under the umbrella of the term ‘merfolk,’ the sirens had a far more hostile and bloodstained relationship with humans.
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Since time immemorial, his brethren were viewed as nothing but a scourge upon this world of humanity. Beautiful as a raging typhoon and every bit as devastating, the sirens served as harbingers of doom and destruction for those foolish enough to risk the perilous waters. Their heavenly voices were tantamount to the funeral dirges used to usher the dead into the afterlife. It would be understandable to believe that the sirens were the monsters in this baleful story. However, human nature at its core is fraught with wickedness, and men soon grew wise to the machinations of merfolk.
Odysseus was the first to survive an encounter with sirens. During his voyage to Ithaca, the cunning man had instructed his crew to plug their ears with beeswax, effectively blocking the intoxicating songs that had ended the lives of so many before them. Emboldened by the success of Odysseus’s scheme, other sailors began using this method to conquer the sea and establish trade routes. Within a matter of a couple hundred years, humans not only overcame their fear of sirens, but they also poached them. Huntsmen would capture, torture, and kill Jin-woo’s ancestors simply for crossing paths with them. Worse yet, these scoundrels would often murder merfolk solely to harvest their organs, bones, and scales. They would then use the defiled corpses as ingredients for commodities, medication, and even aphrodisiacs. It was truly grotesque, if not outright barbaric, and more than justified the ire his kind felt towards humanity. While they hunted for the noble sake of survival, men did it for bloodsport and money.
The horrific fates suffered by many of their beloved brothers and sisters particularly infuriated the alphas, with their robust constitutions and natural sense of leadership. With a thirst for vengeance, they began targeting and attacking ships, ports, and even beaches. The alphas considered any place or vehicle that harbored humans as eligible targets. The less temperamental betas remained neutral and avoided the bloodshed, opting to prey upon shoals of fish and other maritime animals instead. Omegas could not join in the hunt, as they were far too precious to lose. They were the most cherished and talented singers amongst the sirens and required around-the-clock protection because of their significant rarity. These were the origins of the current hierarchical structure Jin-woo adhered to.
After recalling the tumultuous history of his people in its entirety, Jin-woo clenches his fists until his knuckles turn white. This was so damn frustrating! Rather than granting him an understanding of his attraction, it just proved all the more why it was so illogical. 
Defeated, Jin-woo raises his head, opens his eyes, and continues to swim.
Another hour passes before he finds himself at the ingress of Ashborn’s lair. His enigmatic teacher lived in almost complete obscurity. Devoid of any light, and enveloped by a suffocating aura, this nautical cavern intimidated all who dared to approach it. Well, almost all that is apart from Jin-woo. He effortlessly permeates the invisible barrier designed to keep intruders at bay and ventures into his master’s spiritual domain.
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Despite being an ancient and powerful king of the sea, Ashborn made the strange decision to emulate a land-like environment in his personal chambers.
As Jin-woo manifests into the realm, his appearance gives way to a form more befitting of a land dweller. His tail separates into two legs, his scales smoothen into skin, and he loses the winged fins on his ears and back. Once finished with this metamorphosis, Jin-woo takes a deep breath. Fresh pine, grass, and flowers perfume the air as he’s greeted by a lush valley. It had been a while since he had visited, and the setting had required him to transform into a human. Interestingly, transfiguration was one of the first skills Ashborn taught him. Speaking of his mentor –
“My disciple, it is good to see you again, though you appear…troubled. Tell me, what ails you so?” A rumbling voice rings across the horizon, signaling Ashborn’s approach; the tenebrous essence of the powerful deity contrasting with the greenery of the land. He appears in front of Jin-woo as a great dark knight. Much like his surroundings, Ashborn’s current visage was nothing but an illusion. Even the bravest of warriors said that his lifelike image invoked sheer terror in their hearts.
Many speculate he possesses a massive stature, at least several leagues in height and breadth alone, with piercing eyes and endless tendrils of dark hair. Others claim he is the son of Poseidon, one of the twelve Olympians, and a God of destruction who presided over the sea. However, Jin-woo never once witnessed this side of his teacher in all the years he’s been under his mentorship. Ashborn certainly exuded dignity, but he still displayed a humble attitude. And without fail, he would always appear in that strange, armored suit whenever he was in Jin-woo’s presence.
“My teacher, I must ask for your help on an urgent matter,” Jin-woo starts, anxiously running his tongue across his bottom lip. “This morning, while I was scavenging, I stumbled across the unmistakable aroma of an unmarked omega. It…it was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. As if I was being beckoned by someone or something. I wanted, no, I needed to heed its call.”
Ashborn listens in silence, his expression indiscernible. Jin-woo continued.
 “When I arrived, I was in front of a monstrosity of a ship – a yacht right by the sandbanks. At first, I assumed that someone had taken an unfortunate siren captive. But when I finally saw her–”
“You recognized she was human. Not only that, but she belongs to the lowest level of the hierarchy, an omega. Speak if I am wrong, my dear pupil.” Jin-woo lowers his head in shame, fringe obscuring his eyes. This action all but confirms it.
“I don’t know what to do or how to proceed, teacher. Everything I’ve learned about these creatures has made me detest them. But I can’t bring myself to hate her. How could this even be possible? We are not even of the same species. She’s my enemy, my prey…. At least, she’s supposed to be.” His voice lowers into a near whisper as he ends his confused rambling.
“And yet you don’t view her that way, do you child?” Ashborn poses a question he already knows the answer to but needs to hear in his pupil’s own words.
“No, I don’t,” Jin-woo replies grimly. “I yearn to know more about her. And not just that. I want to meet her, court her, and make her mine. If she’ll even have me, that is… So please, teacher, tell me if there is any meaning behind what I feel. Am I destined for something that bears no place in reality?”
Ashborn remains uncharacteristically quiet while faced with such a loaded question. All is eerily silent for a few moments, save for the cheerful chirping of the illusionary songbirds. At last, the monarch gazes at Jin-woo and gives him the answer he so desperately desires.
“It is entirely possible Sung Jin-woo, alpha of Jindo island, for I am proof of such a fantastical circumstance. My first and only love was also a human omega. A woman I devoted my entire being to over a millennium ago.”
Jin-woo’s eyes widened in shock at this revelation. His mentor had fallen in love at some point, and it was with a member of the human race? This was unheard of.
“I never knew you had a lover,” Jin-woo murmurs softly. “What was she like? Do you still remember everything about her after so many years?”
“Let me show you, my disciple. It is a tragic tale that words alone cannot properly convey.” With a wave of Ashborn’s hand, their surroundings began to morph and alter. The valley transforms into a spacious, yet quaint medieval village composed of several wooden houses with a bustling marketplace at its center.
When Jin-woo regains his bearings, he notices his mentor has also metamorphosized. A man with a sun kissed complexion, long dark hair, and a beard stands where he once stood. Though visibly unrecognizable, he was unmistakably Ashborn. A crimson cape was clasped to the pristine silver armor he wore. A paladin. Jin-woo recalls. He had some knowledge of the past lives of men through his rare excursions onto the Mainland. While disguised as a human, Jin-woo once traded in his goods for a textbook on history. He was loath to admit just how intriguing he had found it.
Ashborn speaks, his voice no longer resonating within the confines of shadowy steel.
“It was here in this village that I came across her. She was the only daughter of a peasant farmer. A strong-willed, rapscallion of a woman with a wit sharper than any blade. I can remember her beauty, her warmth, and her tenacity as clear and concise as the day we met.” He says with a wistful gaze. The scene then shifts to a woman in a pure white gown. Her eyes remained hidden, but it did nothing to impede upon her loveliness. The woman runs animatedly towards a man who looks identical to Ashborn’s borrowed likeness and leaps into his arms. The man then effortlessly spins her around before bringing her into a kiss. Jin-woo watches on, mesmerized by what was unfolding in front of him.
“I feared her rejection once she knew the truth of my identity,” Ashborn admits. “On the night we first made love, I finally revealed to her my status as ruler of the sea. However, it did not matter. She loved me wholly and unconditionally, regardless of who or what I was. Such was the strength of her resolve.” In the next instance, they return to the same valley from earlier. What differs this time is that the man and woman are there, unacknowledging of Jin-woo and Ashborn’s presence. Lost in their own special world. The woman has a flower crown on her head, and she sits on the grass, holding the man’s head in her lap. Both appear happy and at ease.
“For the first time in my existence, I experienced true contentment. I long to return to those days, but alas, our bliss did not last.”
Ashborn solemnly shuts his eyes as darkness overtakes the sky and rain falls. The man is now shown standing at a grave with an expression of anguish marring his face. The woman is nowhere to be seen, although Jin-woo knows exactly where she’s at.
“A plague was scourging the land and indiscriminately ending the lives of thousands. I tried to protect her with my magic, but it was to no avail. She fell gravely ill despite my best efforts. I discovered shortly thereafter that omegas were more susceptible to sickness than their contemporaries. If I had known beforehand, I would’ve brought her to the sea with me, away from that damned disease. But I was a fool who was willing to love and live with her as a man, not as a king. And as punishment for my hubris, an ailment snuffed out her life.”
At the end of his recollection, Ashborn’s lair returns to its original state. His mentor had also regained his shadowy exterior. The valley appears completely untouched by time, as if it were still one thousand years in the past. That’s why his lair looks like this. Jin-woo thinks as he finally recognizes its significance, It was their personal sanctuary. After a few moments of silence, Ashborn speaks.
“Although our circumstances are similar, you still have the privilege of choice. I cannot turn back time, nor can I change the past, but I am grateful. I experienced unspeakable grief, yes, but I also would have never encountered such love, tenderness, and passion had I not taken a chance on my omega. You, my disciple, still have free rein over your decision. Should you choose to pursue this woman, you have my blessing and irrefutable proof that she is a viable mate for you. If not, you will still receive my unwavering support in your future endeavors. The choice is yours to make.”
Jin-woo’s throat bobs. He feels an incredible sense of guilt at unearthing his master’s secret.
“My teacher, I apologize for prying into your past. I – I did not mean to bring up painful memories for you. I cannot imagine what you have endured. As of right now, I am not sure what it is I want, but I know for a fact I cannot give up on this human. I will need some time to contemplate and sort out my feelings. If you will excuse me.”
Jin-woo bows his head before turning to take his leave. As he approaches the exit, a sudden thought emerges at the forefront of his mind.
“Teacher, there is one more question I must ask. This human, she does not speak with words. She communicates with her hands and gestures. Is this some type of sorcery or spell that she’s casting?”
“It is most likely sign language, a manner of non-verbal communication used by humans who are unable to vocalize or hear. Perhaps she cannot speak, or has a hearing impairment, so she must express herself through other means.” Ashborn answers, curiosity lacing his voice.
Jin-woo feels his heart sinking. A siren’s serenade played a pivotal role in the mating ritual and was performed just prior to consummating an eternal bond. If what Ashborn said is true, then there is a possibility you could be immune to his song. This meant he wouldn't be able to use it on you when the time came…
He grits his teeth as he remembers your smiling face. Try as he might, Jin-woo just could not get you out of his head, nor was he willing to let you escape his grasp. You may not have realized it yet, but you had unknowingly sunk your fangs into him and the seeds of obsession were already beginning to take root. Rather than being discouraged by Ashborn’s observation, he instead finds himself reinvigorated.
“Teacher, disregard everything I said earlier. I now know what it is I must do.”
Ashborn peers into the eyes of his disciple, relieved by the determination that lights them. This was much more like the obstinate young man he knew.
“I choose to seek this omega and stake my claim, no matter what challenges may await the two of us,” Jin-woo proclaims proudly. “I will make her mine, but only if she consents to my proposal. And if not through song, then through other courtship methods. I am strong, stronger than any other alpha in my territory, and I know I can protect her from all who would wish her harm. I won’t let my mate slip through my fingers.”
“But what of maladies and the passage of time? You can fight against gods and monsters until the end of your days, but sickness or her ephemeral lifespan will not spare this young woman. In the end, your time with her shall be fleeting.” Ashborn ruthlessly counters Jin-woo’s declaration of protection.
Jin-woo bites his lip, not expecting this development. However, before he can muster a response, his mentor graces him with an answer.
“I know of one way you can overcome this. There is a recipe for an elixir known as the Holy Water of Life. It is a miraculous potion that can imbue invulnerability to communicable diseases, extend lifespan, and transform the consumer into a siren. I unfortunately did not have knowledge of such a panacea while I was with my love. Of course, I live with the regret of not discovering it sooner, as now I have no such use for it, but this does not mean I will idly stand by and let history repeat itself with my protégé.”
With a flash of light, an ancient scroll appears in front of Jin-woo. It unravels by itself to reveal its contents to him. Jin-woo’s eyes widen as he reads. Is this…?
“Behold. The ingredients for crafting the Holy Water of Life. I bequeath this boon unto you, my disciple. However, heed my warning as the acquisition of these components requires you to conquer all 100 floors of the Demon’s Castle and to defeat its king, Baran. This is a treacherous dungeon that may claim your life if you are unprepared for it, but it can also impart you with unspeakable power should you prevail.”
Jin-woo perks up at this information, his interest now fully piqued. “Tell me, master, where can I find the Demon’s Castle?”
“It hides far away, in the city of Seoul, within an incorporeal dominion. It is a flame-ridden landscape that will require you to assume the form of a human to enter the castle. Knowing all the risks it entails; do you still accept my offer?”
“I do,” Jinwoo confidently states.
“Very well,” Ashborn nods his assent, and a key materializes into Jin-woo’s palm.
“Use this key to open the gate to the Demon’s Castle. I have also implanted it with the coordinates to the dungeon’s location. You need only close your eyes and grasp onto the key to visualize it.”
Following the instructions, Jin-woo sees a map that details the exact distance from his current whereabouts to the metropolitan area of Seoul. It will be a lengthy trip, even with his impressive swimming prowess. He estimates it will take roughly half a day to arrive at his destination. Undeterred, Jin-woo presses onward.
“Teacher, I cannot thank you enough for all your help and guidance over these last few years. I give you my word; I will return alive and well, both with the elixir and Baran’s head. And then I will meet with the omega and court her in earnest.”
He departs without another word, although his promise relays an unspoken farewell between them. After some time passes, Ashborn stares at the vast skies of his domain and muses to himself.
“You have grown so much from when I rescued you from the Cartenon Temple all those years ago, Sung Jin-woo. I could not be prouder of you, my disciple. Till our next encounter.”
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12 hours later...
Jin-woo finally emerges from the dark, briny waters that frame Seoul’s coastline.
After leaving Ashborn’s lair, he briefly returned home to pack and prepare for the journey ahead. Both Jin-ah and his mother were worried about his sudden departure, so he did the best he could to assuage their fears by giving them a sanitized version of the truth.
Jin-woo claimed Ashborn had provided him with a list of rare ingredients that were only available for purchase in the human markets at Seoul. He even promised to bring back a box of chocolates as a souvenir, something his mother and little sister had enjoyed during one of his return trips to the surface. He then traveled the full 413-kilometer distance from Jindo-gun to Seoul, stopping only for a few hours to rest and recuperate.
As he approaches land, he assumes the form of a naked human man and walks inland from the sea. However, Jin-woo comes to a halt when he becomes more aware of his current state of nudity. While it didn’t bother him, it would cause a lot of unnecessary trouble if any nosy beachgoers happened upon him and asked questions. It is also…pretty embarrassing to admit that he is…wobbly on these legs. Very much so.
He quickly summons his magical inventory and grabs a simple black t-shirt, boxers, fitted jeans, and athletic sneakers (‘Adidas’, the portly sales attendant had called them). As worthless as he found human decorum to be, Jin-woo needed to remain as inconspicuous as possible while he was in disguise. Once dressed, he strolled into the city. After 45 minutes, he found himself at the designated street junction on the map. Taking a deep breath, he brings forth the key, turns it, and unlocks the gate. 
⚓︎ To be continued...
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theambitiouswoman · 2 years ago
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How to Stop Procrastinating by Managing Your Emotions
Procrastination happens when we delay doing things, and it's often connected to our emotions. Feelings like being afraid to fail, feeling worried or stressed, getting bored, or lacking motivation can all contribute to procrastination. To stop procrastinating and get more things done, it's important to learn how to handle our emotions better.
Boredom:
Break the task into smaller, more engaging sub-tasks.
Find ways to make the task more interesting or challenging.
Set a timer and work on the task for a specific amount of time, followed by a short break doing something enjoyable.
Feeling Overwhelmed:
Prioritize tasks and focus on one thing at a time.
Break the task into smaller, more manageable steps.
Delegate some parts of the task if possible or seek help from others.
Use tools like to-do lists or task management apps to stay organized.
Anxiety:
Practice deep breathing or mindfulness techniques to calm yourself.
Challenge negative thoughts and replace them with more positive and realistic ones.
Start with the easier or less intimidating aspects of the task to build momentum.
Set realistic expectations and remind yourself that it's okay to make mistakes.
Self-Doubt:
Focus on past accomplishments and successes to boost your confidence.
Seek support or feedback from others to gain reassurance.
Remind yourself of your skills and capabilities to tackle the task.
Use positive affirmations to counteract negative self-talk.
Perfectionism:
Embrace the concept of "good enough" rather than seeking perfection.
Set realistic and achievable goals for each task.
Recognize that mistakes and imperfections are part of the learning process and growth.
Indecisiveness:
Break decisions into smaller steps and make one small decision at a time.
Set a time limit for making decisions to avoid overthinking.
Trust your instincts and make the best decision you can with the information available.
Apathy or Lack of Interest:
Find aspects of the task that align with your values or long-term goals.
Break the task into smaller, more manageable parts and focus on completing one at a time.
Reward yourself for completing the task to make it more appealing.
Stress or Burnout:
Practice stress-reduction techniques such as meditation, exercise, or spending time in nature.
Break tasks into smaller steps to reduce the feeling of overwhelm.
Prioritize self-care and take breaks to avoid burnout.
Feeling Uninspired or Creatively Blocked:
Engage in activities that stimulate creativity, such as brainstorming, mind mapping, or seeking inspiration from others' work.
Start with a simple and basic version of the task to get the creative juices flowing.
Collaborate with others or seek feedback to gain new perspectives.
Fear of Success:
Identify and challenge the negative beliefs or fears that may be holding you back.
Visualize the positive outcomes of completing the task successfully.
Focus on the benefits and personal growth that come with success.
Impatience:
Break long-term goals into smaller milestones to track progress.
Practice mindfulness to stay present and patient throughout the process.
Remind yourself that progress takes time and effort.
Lack of Confidence:
Celebrate your past accomplishments to boost your confidence.
Seek support and encouragement from friends, family, or mentors.
Focus on building specific skills related to the task to increase confidence.
Avoiding Discomfort:
Acknowledge that discomfort is a natural part of growth and improvement.
Break tasks into smaller steps and tackle the more challenging aspects gradually.
Remind yourself of the long-term benefits of facing discomfort.
Overestimating Future Motivation:
Practice discipline and commit to starting tasks even when motivation is low.
Set specific deadlines for tasks to create a sense of urgency.
Establish a routine that includes regular work on the task to build consistency.
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michaelgabrill · 2 years ago
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Seven US Companies Collaborate with NASA to Advance Space Capabilities
NASA will partner with seven U.S. companies to meet future business and government needs, ultimately benefitting human spaceflight and the U.S. commercial low Earth orbit economy. from NASA https://ift.tt/bchj6O9
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electronicsbuzz · 6 months ago
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lavenderangeltarot · 4 months ago
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𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝓈' 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝑒𝓃𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒶𝓅𝓅𝑒𝒶𝓇𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 🪞🪷✩ // pick a card!
hey angels! 👼🏼 this will be a general pick a card reading on what people find enchanting about your appearance/how people view your appearance (physically & generally- usually these things naturally overlap). It's of course, not healthy to fixate on these things, however I think it can be uplifting to hear the nice things people might've thought of us. It's natural to be a bit curious! Pick the image you're most drawn to, proceed to your reading & take what resonates! If you're interested in a personal reading from me, check out my Etsy Store :) // https://www.etsy.com/shop/LavenderAngelTarot
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#1 #2 #3
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#1 - the Moon, Page of Swords & Knight of Wands 🌙
With the Moon card coming out first, I see people being heavily captivated by a sense of mystery surrounding you- you come across as introverted or at least, initially reserved. In your presence people are not so sure what you are thinking, but your demeanour remains peaceful and possibly very feminine. Dreamy & vaguely moody too, but with the Moon card it's like everything is a little concealed. I think for some of you, people can sense you're going through something heavy right now too since the Moon relates to psychological turmoil in some cases, but you hold yourself very gracefully. Physically I feel like you have very immediately pleasant features, people might find there's this 'beautiful darkness' to you- maybe some of you dress in a sort of gothic inspired aesthetic, or perhaps it's this mysterious/contemplative look in your eye.
With the Page of Swords (especially combined with the Moon) people immediately see you as intelligent. Very sharp minded and skilled at communicating (even if you're not a big talker, your speech or vocabulary is clear). Since in this reading we're focusing on appearance, despite the softness illustrated with the Moon card, you may also have some features that are slightly sharper. Like for example, having a very soft, rounded face but a sharp/edgy haircut, or piercings. Pages are also associated with youth, so people may see you as youthful in your appearance. A lot of you who picked this pile are very young too I'm getting- not sure if it's the reading, or just me talking but I have this urge to remind you guys to be safe online!
Finally, the Knight of wands to me shows that people see you as healthy, athletic or just generally physically capable & attractive! You may look strong or agile- I'm getting some of you are dancers (or you look like you would dance, especially ballet!). Despite your calm, intellectual energy, you come across like you live a very active and adventurous lifestyle in some way. I also see that while you might not lead with it when you meet people (initially people noticing that mysterious, intellectual, perhaps shy aspect of you)- you have a very spontaneous and passionate nature that people reallyy love :)
2# - 3 of Pentacles, The Star, 9 of Wands 🌿
Immediately, this group is really emanating 'it girl' energy to me.
With the 3 of Pentacles, I see people being quite in awe of you and viewing you as a very hardworking, competent person. You inspire others in some way, people feel they have something to learn from you. Since the 3 of Pentacles is traditionally related to collaboration & learning, you could be someone who's always around other people, or maybe are a positive representation of your school/work out in public (like for example, often being out and about in your uniform, or being seen as part of a collective like a band or a certain friend group). Appearance wise, to me the 3 of Pentacles feels as though there is something artistic & skillful about your appearance- maybe you're really skilled at makeup, or your clothing is very beautiful and well coordinated.
The Star card speaks for itself! You stand out appearance-wise and garner attention whether you realise it or not! The Star card to me, especially combined with the 3 of Pentacles tells me that you inspire people a lot with your appearance alone but also in other ways. People feel there is something aspirational and 'untouchable' about you- it's sort of Gossip Girl 'Serena Van Der Woodsen' adjacent lol. Again, it could be that there's something about the way you dress that's very skillful and others are in awe of, it could also be that you're very popular or seem as though you would be from the way you carry yourself. A lot of you are very talented or just 'different' in some way and people notice that. (I wish I could specify a bit more but since it's a general reading it could be a variety of reasons people view you this way, follow your gut) :)
The 9 of Wands to me shows that you come across brave and ready for anything, very resilient. Maybe slightly wary or mistrusting too. It also shows that people can tell you're tired/exhausted- not necessarily in a bad way but it's like people can sense in the way you carry yourself that you're trying to keep strong despite struggles you are facing. Maybe you're not getting as much sleep as you need, or just work super hard. For some of you, it's as though people can sense in your expressions/posture/etc that despite being this abundant, inspiring person; you're not totally happy right now and there's something or many things getting to you. I see for some, what's going on is that you have a lot of expectations on you to be this 'perfect', skilled, hardworking, 'golden girl/boy' aspirational person and it is wearing you out deep down. I definitely do see things getting smoother for you with time 🤍
#3 - King of Cups, The Chariot, The Hierophant 🌊
The King of Cups as the first card tells me that you appear to people as somebody who is very in touch with their feelings & emotionally authentic. I don't see an obnoxious person who is always bawling their eyes out (lol), but I see someone who is very warm, welcoming and jovial. When you laugh, you laugh for real. When you smile, it is genuine and sweet. You may not always feel relaxed, but overall you do come across as a very relaxed and mature person and it's really attractive to people. The way you move could be very flow-y and sensual, you might prefer to wear flowing fabrics/styles rather than stiff or sharp ones. Whatever your age or gender is, I see you also come across very parental in the sense that people immediately feel they can trust you, like you're the person a little kid would want to come up to for help if they were lost 🥹
The Chariot tells me that something about the way you appear has a very positive and change-agent energy about it. It could be that you dress very bohemian, or wear very bright colours, or perhaps you do something different with your hair that really subverts expectations and inspires positivity in others. It's as though you stand for something- a certain cause or mentality that shines through in your demeanour. You come across very confident in your style, who you are and what you stand for- you're not afraid to look unique or be 'over the top' and that really makes people happy to see whether you notice it or not! As though you're the one person who wears a beautiful colourful dress/shirt in a sea of people wearing black and grey + looking 'done' with life. Again I'm seeing that the way you move stands out as attractive! While many walk kinda sluggish & dispassionately, you have a bit of a spring in your step, or appear very in command and in tune with your body.
Finally, The Hierophant tells me that you appear spiritual, religious or just having a very strong moral conviction in some way to others. For some of you it could be your facial expressions & the way you react to your environment that leads people to think this. For others, it's more overt things like perhaps adorning yourself in religious or spiritual symbols. The Hierophant also speaks of traditionalism, so you could be someone who prefers slightly more traditional dress styles and values in a way- for a lot I'm seeing dressing in vintage fashion :)
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Thankyou !! 💞🔮
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pitlanepeach · 23 days ago
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Radio Silence | Chapter Five
Lando Norris x Amelia Brown (OFC)
Series Masterlist
Summary — Order is everything. Her habits aren't quirks, they're survival techniques. And only three people in the world have permission to touch her: Mom, Dad, Fernando.
Then Lando Norris happens.
One moment. One line crossed. No going back.
Warnings — Autistic!OFC, detailed meltdown on-page, angst.
Notes — Another double update, go me! PSA: Our Amelia has a bit of a difficult time in this one. Take care of yourselves x
Want to be added to the taglist? Let me know! - Peach x
2019
WhatsApp Groupchat — The 2019 F1 Grid
Charles L. I have found an iPad in Ferrari hospitality. It is engraved with the initials A.B. Any ideas?
Lewis H. Does it have a bunny sticker on it?
Charles L. Yes!
Lewis H. That’s Amelia’s, then.
Lando N. lol I’ll come get it just gimme 10 mins im in a debrief rn 
Charles L. Sure no problem Amelia is Zak Brown’s daughter, yes?
George R. Yeah mate The smart one.
Sebastian V. Haha. She is the one Binotto wants? Brown hair, pretty smile?
Lando N. Bro.
Lewis H. @Sebastian — Mattia has tried to get her to Ferrari?
Sebastian V. Yes. He’s offered her some very lucrative opportunities. She has so far turned all of them down.
Carlos S. She’s loyal to McLaren. Leave her to us, yes?
Valtteri B. But if she ever decided to go elsewhere, Mercedes would make sense.
Lewis H. Yeah obviously 👍🏻
Lando N. ????????????
Lance S. If she was offered a million dollars to fix the Racing Point car, do you think she’d take it? Not a hypothetical. My dad wants to know.
Max V. Money won’t work. You forget she’s already the child of a millionaire.
Lance S. Damn it.
Kimi R. Is this the child always in Norris’ garage?
Lando N. Don’t call her a child we are literally the same age
Kimi R. That does not change the fact
Daniel R. But seriously, why was she even in Ferrari hospitality in the first place?
Max V. Ice cream.
Lando N. Ice cream 
Lewis H. Ice cream.
Sebastian V. I can confirm she was here for ice cream. Pistachio, specifically.
Charles L. I cannot believe I’ve still never met her. Is she really so smart?
Lando N. Yes.
Pierre G. Absolutely.
Max V. Smarter than you are capable of comprehending, Charles.
Charles L. Then I suppose I will just have to charm her into accepting Mattia’s offer 😌
Lando N. I will put in the wall, Leclerc.
Charles L. Oh! You are together with her, Lando? I didn’t know!
Lando N. No, we’re not together.
Charles L. Then I am confused.
Max V. Her father has practically forbade them from dating. Total nonsense if you ask me.
Carlos S. They are dating.
Daniel R. @Carlos 😳😳😳
Lando N. @Carlos NO WE ARE NOT STOP SAYING THAT
Sergio P. Mucho defensive…
Carlos S. He wrote his race number on her shoes.
Lando N. So what? That means nothing.
Daniel R. Oh brother….
Max V. Yeah, sorry, I can’t even back you on that one Lando. That’s a lot.
Kimi R. My wife had my number stitched into her shoes. We got married six months later.
George R. So Kimi is saying you’re basically engaged, bro.
Lewis H. Let’s stop talking about this. Before Lando has a full on meltdown.
Charles L. Too late. He has arrived for the iPad with a terrible attitude. 
Lando N. I hate all of you.
— 
Subject: Workplace Conduct Reminder – Inclusivity & Respect at McLaren
From: HR Department To: All McLaren Racing Staff Date: [Sunday, post-race, 10:42 PM]
Dear Team,
As the season continues and tensions rise both on and off the track, we’d like to take a moment to remind everyone of McLaren’s core values — collaboration, respect, and inclusion.
We are incredibly proud of the diversity across our team, from engineering to strategy, operations to communications. Every person is here because they bring something exceptional to the table — and that includes our colleagues who may experience or perceive the world differently than others.
We ask that all team members remain mindful of the following:
Neurodiversity is not a barrier — it is an asset. Please be conscious of language and behaviour that may unintentionally alienate or diminish the contributions of individuals who may process things differently. This includes members of our extended team, trusted advisors, and collaborators who work closely with us — regardless of job title or official role.
“Vibes” are not a metric — Judging someone’s energy, personality, or communication style is not only unprofessional but also unfair. Everyone representing or contributing to McLaren, formally or informally, deserves respect.
Support one another — Whether someone wears McLaren orange full-time or contributes behind the scenes, everyone here plays a part in our collective success.
Rumours are not culture — Let’s keep paddock gossip out of professional spaces. If you have concerns, we encourage you to speak directly to your manager or HR.
This message is not in response to any one incident but rather a gentle pit stop reminder: our team functions best when everyone feels seen, heard, and safe.
If you have any questions or want to speak to someone in confidence, please feel free to reach out to HR directly. We’re here to help.
Kind regards, The McLaren Racing HR Team [[email protected]]
— 
iMessage — 11:40pm
Lando Yo, did you see the email?
Carlos Sí.
Lando Kinda hardcore. Glad Zak did something 
Carlos Somebody said something to Amelia?
Lando Yeah someone in PR idk I feel like I should know more about her stuff I feel stupid tho. Like I don’t know anything. Just that she’s Amelia yano 
Carlos I did some reading. Come to my hotel room. We eat pizza. I will teach you what I know and we can google the rest.
Lando Legend. Thanks, mate.
— 
The course he took her to wasn’t flashy — quiet, tucked away, the kind of place her dad’s friends would never be caught dead in. That was intentional. They weren’t exactly hiding their… friendship, but they weren’t trying to advertise it either.
Amelia stared down at the club he’d handed her like it was a piece of martian debris.
“This is very stupid,” she muttered. “Pointless, really.”
“It is,” Lando agreed, his lips twitching. “Just hit the ball.”
She squinted at the tiny white ball he’d settled on the grass in front of her. “Is it supposed to just… go?”
“Yes.”
“Like in a line?” she clarified, glancing at him.
He shrugged. “In theory.”
She swung. Missed.
Lando clapped anyway. “Incredible form. I’ve never seen such calculated failure.”
“It was bad,” she said seriously. “I didn’t hit the ball. I made a hole in the grass, Lando.” She stared down at the muddy crater with quiet horror.
He just gave her an encouraging nod, gesturing for her to try again.
She sighed, feeling the beginning of a stress rash creep along her neck. But she tried again. And that time, she hit it — not far, just a lazy roll across the grass — but enough to surprise herself. Lando caught the way her eyes widened, saw the exact moment the thrill overtook her frustration.
He didn’t say anything. Just handed her another ball.
They kept going like that for a while — her slowly getting the hang of it, him slipping in dumb jokes and patient explanations between swings. She never asked for help, but he noticed how closely she watched every move he made. Her eyes, always sharp, always calculating.
Eventually, she dropped to the grass with a dramatic sigh and said, “Why do people think this is relaxing? I’m hot and my legs are tired.”
Lando chuckled and sat beside her, kicking his legs out long. “I think it’s relaxing. Your dad likes it.”
“I don’t want to talk about my dad. It makes me stressed.”
“Yeah?” He asked.
She pulled at a blade of grass, rolled it between her fingers. “He told me again that it would be better if I stayed away from you. He said it would make things easier. For me. For you. For the team.” She continued. 
Lando let the silence sit for a moment before asking, his voice quiet and slightly unsure. “What do you want?”
“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I want him to not worry. I want him to trust me. I want…” She hesitated, frowning at the grass. “I want to feel like I can make my own choices without feeling like I might wreck everything.” 
“You’re not wrecking anything,” Lando said. He tapped the ground next to her leg and she glanced at him, blinking. “I like hanging out with you.” He told her. 
She didn’t say anything, just flicked the blade of grass from her fingers and looked at the trees that surrounded the course. “I don’t know what I feel yet,” she said finally. “Toward you, I mean. But I know that I have liked this. Today. Not the golf. Being with you.”
Lando grinned — couldn’t help himself. Probably looked like a right knob, but he didn’t care. “Want to keep playing?” He asked. 
She gave him a look. “I might get fined for ruining so much of their grass.”
He handed her another ball. Shrugged. Smirked. “It’s fine. I make a lot of money.” 
She rolled her eyes.
— 
Amelia shut her bedroom door with more force than she meant to and leaned against it, breath caught high in her chest like she’d just ran a marathon. Her bag hit the floor. Her hands were shaking.
She didn’t know why. Except; she did.
Her body was full of something too big. Too much. A knot of heat and noise and confusion that had no exit. It felt like all the inside parts of her were pressing outward, like she might split open if she didn't stay still.
She pressed her palms hard into her eyes like she could push it all back in. But it was already too late. The thoughts were everywhere; spilled oil, tangled cords, static static static. Her brain wouldn’t quiet down. Wouldn’t give her space to think.
She’d had a good day. That was the worst part. 
Lando had been good.
He never looked at her like she was difficult. He didn’t act like she was hard work. When she didn’t catch onto something the first time, he just explained again. No sighing. No staring. No pretending. Things weren’t easy with him, not exactly, but they were lighter. Easier.
She sat hard on her bed and the tears came without warning; fast, silent, relentless.
She didn’t cry often. Usually she just shut down. Usually the wall slammed down before anything could spill out. But this time everything had slipped past it, and now she was sobbing, but it didn’t even feel like crying. It felt like her whole nervous system had shattered.
A knock at the door.
“Amelia?” her mum’s voice, soft. “We just got back. Can I come in?”
She didn’t answer. Just turned her face away and wiped at it, even though the tears kept falling. Her skin was already stinging. Her chest was tight.
The door creaked open.
“I’m not upset,” Amelia said fast, panicked. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t know why I feel like this. No. I do. I do. I just don’t know what to do with it. And I don’t want to talk about it—except I do. I do, I just—” She broke off, swallowing hard.
Her mum sat on the edge of the bed, calm. Grounding.
“I went out with Lando today,” Amelia said, too fast. “To play golf. His idea. He said we should do something fun. So I did. And it was fun. I didn’t freak out or embarrass myself. I didn’t ruin it. I didn’t ruin it.”
She dug her nails into her palms. Her face was blotchy and sore.
“He makes me feel normal,” she whispered. “Not small. Not like a problem. Just… me. And now I don’t know what I feel. I think I want him to be my friend. Or maybe something else. I don’t know. And I don’t want to know, because it doesn’t matter.”
“Why doesn’t it matter?” Her mum asked calmly.
Amelia blinked at her, and then, like someone flicked a switch, the anger surged. Hot and fast, like a fever.
“Because of Dad,” she spat. “Because he thinks that it would be a distraction. Because he thinks I’ll screw everything up just by being around. Like I’m some walking disease that’s gonna infect Lando’s entire career. I know that’s what he’s worried about the most.”
She was breathing too fast. Her limbs were twitching now, hands clenching and unclenching.
“I don’t have friends,” she said. “You know that. I’ve never had friends. Not ones that stay. I get too intense. Too blunt. Too weird. Too tired. And people always stop trying.”Her voice cracked. Her throat burned. “But Lando didn’t stop. He hasn’t stopped. And it’s still not enough. I still don’t get to have this one good thing without it turning into a problem.”
The sobs came back, messy and loud this time. She stood up too fast, swaying. Her hands started moving uncontrollably at her sides; jerky, uncoordinated. A warning sign. The meltdown was building and she couldn’t stop it, could never stop it. 
Her mum stood too, moving slow, blocking her path without touching her.
“Okay, sweetheart. You don’t have to think about any of that right now.” Her mom’s attempts to comfort her were useless against the onslaught of emotions she was feeling. 
“I’m so angry,” Amelia choked out. “I finally feel calm, I finally feel seen, and it’s not allowed. I’m not allowed to want something or feel something if it’s inconvenient for anyone else!”
She was trembling now. Her skin felt wrong. Her body wasn’t hers anymore. She wanted to rip it off. She wanted to scream and break things. Instead, she clenched her fists and shook and shook and shook.
“Do you want me to get your things?” her mum asked, voice calm, anchoring.
Amelia nodded hard. “Yes. My weighted blanket. And the golf ball. It’s in my bag. Lando bought it for me and I want to hold it. It’s yellow.”
“I’ll get everything,” her mum said gently.
“I’m not doing this on purpose,” Amelia shouted, the volume jarring even to herself. “I’m trying so hard. All the time. I’m always trying.”
“I know,” her mum said. “And I’m proud of you. Every day.”
Amelia slid to the floor. Her body folded in on itself, hands clawed into her sleeves, breathing uneven.
The noise in her head kept rising.
Usually, this was when she wanted her dad. Wanted him to sit next to her. Watch a race in silence. Be there without asking anything of her.
But not now.
Now, all she wanted was for him to stay far, far away.
— 
It was almost midnight.
Her room was quiet now; weighted blanket pulled up to her chest, lights off, only the soft blue glow of her phone screen lighting her face. The golf ball sat in her right hand, warm from where she’d been holding it for hours. She kept rolling it between her fingers, feeling the small ridges, the smoothness. Grounding.
She had stopped shaking, but her body was aching like one big bruised muscle. 
She stared at the message thread with Lando, her thumb hovering, retreating, hovering again.
She didn’t know what to say.
Everything in her head still felt too big. Too messy. But the quiet between them was worse. Not bad, not uncomfortable, just... unfamiliar. She wanted to talk to him. 
Finally, she started typing. 
— 
iMessage — 10:11pm
Amelia I didn’t enjoy golf very much. But I liked being with you. Thank you for inviting me.
Lando Norris I’m glad you came anyway We had fun though, right? I had fun :)
Amelia Yes, I had fun. It was confusing. But in a good way. I liked learning something new.
Lando Norris I liked today too You were kind of great We should do more new things together. Just us
Amelia Maybe. I feel strange tonight. My head is a bit loud.
Lando Norris That’s alright
Amelia Do you think if I asked you questions about your Formula Three races… you would answer them?
Lando Norris Absolutely I’d love that Haven’t talked about F3 in ages Might be nice to remember
Amelia Okay. What did it feel like the first time you won?
Lando Norris Like my hands knew before I did Like the whole world stopped for one second so I could catch up It felt… right. Like I was exactly where I was supposed to be ya know 
Amelia Oh
Lando Norris: You okay?
Amelia: I forgot all the questions I had for you. Sorry.
Lando Norris That’s okay. Don’t worry. Your brain’s probably sleepy. It’s late Are you tired?
Amelia Yes. I got upset earlier for no reason and it’s made me tired I’ll go to sleep now. Thank you for texting me back. Goodnight.
Lando Norris You don’t have to thank me for that I like talking to you Feel better soon, yeah? Goodnight x
— 
The house was still, the kind of stillness that only came after a storm.
Tracy sat on the couch in the dark, legs curled beneath her, a half-cold mug of tea resting in her hands. She hadn’t moved since she’d come downstairs after leaving Amelia. The couch blanket was draped over her shoulders, but she still shivered slightly, not from the cold, but from the heavy weight of witnessing her daughter’s pain. 
Zak entered quietly, the door clicking shut behind him. He didn’t speak at first. Just stood in the doorway, tie loose, shoulders slumped, guilt etched deep into the lines around his eyes. After a long moment, he crossed the room and sat down beside her.
Tracy didn’t look at him. Just murmured, “She’s asleep now. I checked a minute ago.”
Zak nodded slowly. “She didn’t ask for me.”
“She didn’t want to be touched. Didn’t want help. Just needed space.” Tracy’s voice cracked, but she kept it steady. “She was barely holding on, Zak. I haven’t seen her like that in a long time.”
“I didn’t mean to make it worse,” he said too quickly. “I just… I thought I was protecting her.”
“I know you did,” Tracy replied gently.
Zak stared at the floor. “I didn’t think it would hurt her like this. I thought—” He faltered. “I thought keeping her away from Lando would keep things simple. Keep her safe. From getting hurt. Or confused. Or from people talking. From getting her hopes up.”
“You didn’t trust her,” Tracy said. Not accusing, just honest.
Zak exhaled hard. “No. I didn’t trust him.”
Tracy finally turned to look at him. “But he’s been good to her. You’ve seen that, surely.” 
“I have,” Zak admitted, tersely. 
“But it wasn’t on your terms,” Tracy said. “So you didn’t like it.”
Zak didn’t argue.
“She’s not a problem to solve, Zak. She’s our daughter. And she’s doing something incredibly brave. She’s opening up. She’s connecting. That’s huge for her.”
“I know,” he said quietly. “God, I know. I just…” He broke off, ran a hand through his hair. “Why did it have to be him? Why couldn’t it have been someone safer?”
“Because love isn’t safe,” Tracy said. “And friendship isn’t simple. And if you’re lucky enough to find someone who makes you feel okay in your skin, even just for a little while, that’s not a risk for someone like her. That’s a lifeline.”
Zak leaned back, scrubbing a hand over his face. He looked hollowed out. “I feel like I’ve completely blown it.”
“You haven’t,” Tracy said gently. “But you will if you keep pushing like this. If you keep trying to prevent something that is starting to seem pretty much inevitable.” 
Zak was quiet.
“She loves you,” Tracy added. “But she can’t keep fighting you on this. Not when she’s also fighting herself. That kind of pressure… it’ll break her.”
That landed like a stone. He blinked against the sting in his eyes and nodded, slow and tired. “Okay,” he whispered. “Yeah. Okay. Fine.”
Tracy leaned into him and kissed the rough edge of his jaw. “You’re a good father, Zak. She knows that. She’ll forgive you.”
Zak didn’t answer right away. Just stared at the dark hallway.
“She didn’t ask for me,” he said again, softer this time. Raw. Frayed.
Tracy sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. “I know, honey.”
— 
The flat was quiet, except for the hum of the fridge and the occasional thump of bass through the wall from the upstairs neighbours. Lando sat cross-legged on the sofa, eyes unfocused on the muted Rally Car stream playing on the TV. Max was in the kitchen, one sock on, microwaving some disastrous smelling leftover curry.
“You ever liked someone,” Lando said suddenly, not looking up, “so much that even the idea of them ruining your life doesn’t sound that bad?”
Max made a noise that landed somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. “Christ, mate. What brought that on?”
Lando shrugged. “Dunno. I’ve just been thinking.”
“About Amelia?” Max asked, already knowing. He padded over and dropped into the armchair opposite, bowl in his lap.
Lando exhaled slowly. “I really fucking like her. It doesn’t make sense. She’s, I mean— Jesus, I don’t know. Feels like I can breathe right around her, you know?”
Max didn’t answer right away. Just stirred the curry and watched the screen for a second. Then, gently: “Yeah. I get that. But... Come on, mate. You sure this isn’t a bit too much, too fast?”
Lando looked over. Frowned. “What do you mean?”
Max shifted, trying to find words. “It’s not just about liking someone. It’s about who she is. Like, she’s your boss’s daughter. That’s... not insignificant here.”
“I know that.” Lando bit back. 
“Okay. But do you really know what it means? If something goes wrong, if it ends, and ends messy, it’s not like you can just walk away. There’s no possibility of a clean break with her.” 
Lando was quiet, but his jaw tightened.
“I’m not trying to scare you off,” Max added quickly. “I just... I know how much you’ve worked for this. Since you were, what, six? Your whole life’s been about driving. Being the best. And now you’re closer than ever.”
“I’m not giving up racing,” Lando snapped, defensive before Max even finished.
“I didn’t say you were,” Max snapped right back at him. “I just don’t want you to stop being Lando Norris: F1 driver and become Lando Norris: the guy who fucked around with his boss’ daughter, you know?”
Lando stared down at his hands. He felt like a piece of shit as he said, “Zak’s basically said the same thing. So has my dad.”
Max nodded. “‘Cause we’re all thinking the same thing, mate.” 
Lando rubbed his hands over his face and pulled his hood up. “Maybe you’re right,” he mumbled. “Maybe this isn’t... good timing.”
Max didn’t say anything. He just went back to eating, quiet again.
And Lando hated that suddenly it felt like all of their reasons made sense.
— 
The air was different now. Cooler. Thinner. The sun still came through her window in the morning, but it didn’t cling to the walls the same way. The trees had started to shift, just barely, into that pre-autumn colour. And Amelia felt like she was holding her breath all the time. For something. For nothing.
She hadn’t spoken to Lando for days. Not since she'd sent him a photo of the coffee shop in town that had spelled her name wrong again, and all she got back was a laughing emoji. No reply. No question. Just that.
It felt like a door closing very slowly. 
She was sitting in the bay window of her bedroom, blanket around her shoulders, golf ball in one hand and her phone in the other. It was the fourth time she'd opened their chat and closed it again. The most recent messages sat there like ghosts. 
iMessage — 9:04am
Amelia Hope you’re not too tired from training. 
Read. Two days ago. No response.
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, unsure what to write that wouldn’t sound… needy. Or hurt. Or desperate. God, she hated the idea of being too much. It made her skin itch. She didn’t want to become exactly what people were always assuming that she’d be.
She pressed her palms to her eyes, trying to steady her breathing, her thoughts, her everything. But it hurt in a way she didn’t understand; this slow, quiet loss. It hurt in a way she didn’t have a name for. It felt a lot like emptiness.
“Don’t spiral,” she whispered to herself, rocking gently, rhythmically. “Don’t spiral. Don’t spiral.”
But it felt like she already was.
— 
Both McLaren cars DNF’d in Belgium; the first race back after the Summer break.
She’d written it down two hours before lights out — in the margin of an old notebook, under a page of technical notes she hadn’t meant to be looking at anymore. The exact reason. The probable lap. A strange little instinct that curled in her gut and told her today’s not going to go the way they want it to.
She closed the notebook and put it back in the drawer, and told herself it didn’t matter.
Nobody would ever know. Nobody would ever ask. Because she wasn’t in the garage. Wasn’t in the paddock. Wasn’t even watching from the hospitality suite like she always did, like clockwork.
She was in Woking. In her bedroom. As far from Lando’s garage, from the paddock, as she could possibly be.
And on the TV, when the Sky Sports commentator mentioned her absence like it was some small anomaly (“No sign of Amelia Brown in Norris’ McLaren garage today. Odd, considering she rarely misses a weekend”) she didn’t feel flattered or seen or missed.
She felt sick.
Like the air got thinner the second they said her name.
So she turned it off.
Just like that.
The screen went dark. The sound cut out. And for the first time in ten years, she didn’t watch the entire race.
Not because she didn’t want to. 
But because it hurt too much.
NEXT CHAPTER
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