#Common Data Environment

[twininfra]

Welcome To Twin Infra - Digtal Twin

A Digital Twin Platform to improve timeliness and reduce cost overruns in your construction projects.

Twin Infra is is a complete IT solution for the Construction/Infrastructure industry based on the concept of “Digital Twin.” The Twin Infra module is an integrated cloud platform to manage data models, people, process, and assets throughout the lifecycle of a construction project. The Twin Infra module has predictive analytic features to anticipate and forecast in all the stages of Construction/Infra. It works on public, private, and virtual cloud infrastructure and uses Artificial Intelligence for operational insights and efficiency. 

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[allisterlewisarchitect]

Our new video highlights the incredible impact of @BIMLauncher

Our new video highlights the incredible impact of @BIMLauncher - teams can work from within their own preferred CDE solution https://www.linkedin.com/company/bimlauncher/ #cde #commondataenvrionment #bim #informationmanagement #contech #aec #construction

ADDD is all about AEC software and Construction Technology (ConTech). We are on a mission to make construction productive, sustainable and profitable. Introduction BIM Launcher is an integration platform that enables teams to collaborate by automating information management across Common Data Environments (CDE). Using BIM Launcher, teams can continue to work from within their own preferred CDE…

[reasonsforhope]

"A medical technology company in Australia is aiming for a world-first: it wants to launch a blood test for endometriosis (sometimes called 'endo' for short) within the first half of this year [2025].

In a recent peer-reviewed trial, its novel test proved 99.7 percent accurate at distinguishing severe cases of endometriosis from patients without the disease but with similar symptoms.

Even in the early stages of the disease, when blood markers may be harder to pick out, the test's accuracy remained over 85 percent.

The company behind the patent, Proteomics International, says it is currently adapting the method "for use in a clinical environment," with a target launch date in Australia for the second quarter of this year [2025].

The test is called PromarkerEndo.

"This advancement marks a significant step toward non-invasive, personalized care for a condition that has long been underserved by current medical approaches," managing director of Proteomics International Richard Lipscombe said in a press release from December 30.

Endometriosis is a common inflammatory disease that occurs when tissue similar to the lining of the uterus grows in other parts of the body, forming lesions. The disease can be very painful, and yet the average patient often suffers debilitating symptoms for up to seven years before they are properly diagnosed.

While there are numerous reasons for such a long delay, symptoms of endometriosis are often highly variable, unpredictable, difficult to measure or describe, and dismissed or overlooked by doctors.

Today, the only definitive way to diagnose endometriosis is via keyhole surgery called a laparoscopy, which is expensive, invasive, and carries risks.

Proteomics International is hoping to change that.

In collaboration with researchers at the University of Melbourne and the Royal Women's Hospital, the company compared the bloodwork data from 749 participants of mostly European descent.

Some had endometriosis and others had symptoms that were similar to endo but without the lesions. All participants had a laparoscopy to confirm the presence or absence of the disease.

Sifting through the bloodwork, researchers ran several different algorithms to figure out which proteins in the blood were best at predicting endometriosis of varying stages.

Building on previous research, a panel of 10 proteins showed a "clear association" with endometriosis.

For years now, scientists have investigated possible blood biomarkers of endometriosis to see if they could differentiate between those who have endo and those who do not. Similar to cancerous tumors, endo lesions can establish their own blood supply, and if cervical cancer can be diagnosed via a blood test, it seemed possible that endometriosis could be, too...

Proteomics International claims patents for PromarkerEndo are "pending in all major jurisdictions," starting first in Australia.

It remains to be seen if the company's blood test lives up to the hype and is approved by the Australian Therapeutic Goods Administration (TGA). But that's not outside the realm of possibility.

In November of 2023, some researchers predicted that a "reliable non-invasive biomarker for endometriosis is highly likely in the coming years."

Perhaps this is the year."

-via ScienceAlert, January 9, 2025

--

Note: As someone with endometriosis, let me say that this is a HUGE deal. The condition is incredibly common, incredibly understudied, and incredibly often dismissed. Massive sexism at work here.

I got very lucky and got diagnosed after about 6 months of chronic pain (and extra extra lucky, because my pain went away with medication). But as the article says, the average time to diagnosis is seven years.

Being able to confirm endometriosis diagnoses/rates without invasive surgery will also lead to huge progress in studying/creating treatments for endo.

And fyi: If you have a period that is so painful that you can't stand up, or have to go home from school/work, or vomit, or anything else debilitating (or if any of those things apply if you forget to take pain meds), that is NOT NORMAL, and you should talk to a competent gynecologist asap.

[pitlanepeach]

Radio Silence | Chapter Thirty-Nine

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, pregnancy, strong language, nightmares, protective!Lando, papaya rules tw (barf).

Notes — It's long again - which is becoming a common theme. Also pls take every pregnancy date/timeline piece of information with a pinch of salt. I'm not perfect and I only went to nursing school for 3 weeks (not kidding). Okay ily enjoy xxx

2024 (Saudi Arabia—China)

It was still dark when she woke up.

The air in the hotel room was cool, but Lando was burning next to her — damp with sweat, breath uneven. He jerked once, a short, desperate twitch like his body was trying to run without him. Then again, louder. A sound came out of him that didn't sound like him at all.

Amelia blinked, heart already climbing, and reached over. "Lando?"

He flinched at her voice; sat bolt upright, eyes wide and unseeing. He was panting. Actually panting.

"Hey," she said, sitting up with him, hand finding his arm. "Hey, it's okay. It was just a dream."

His head turned slowly toward her like he wasn't sure she was real. "Amelia?" His voice cracked halfway through her name.

She nodded. "Yeah. Hi. I'm here."

Lando dragged in a breath. Then another. But it wasn't calming him down — his hands were shaking, still clenched in the bedsheets like he was bracing for impact.

She reached for them gently. "Lando."

He dropped his head, and for a second she thought he wasn't going to speak. But then — quietly, nearly swallowed by the dark — he said, "There was blood."

She stared at him.

"Yours," he added, like that should have explained everything.

Amelia wrapped her arms around him immediately, pulling him close, pulling him in. His body was stiff at first, coiled tight like he'd shatter if she touched him too hard. So she didn't. She held him exactly the way she liked to be held — not soothing, not soft. Solid. Anchoring.

"I couldn't get to you," he murmured. "I kept running but, fuck, I don't even know what happened. I just—I couldn't get to you."

Her hand moved slowly up his back. "Got me now, haven't you? And I'm fine."

His breath hitched again, then he dropped his head to her shoulder like it weighed a hundred kilos. "You were shouting my name," he whispered. "Trying to get me to come and help you. And I couldn't do anything."

"It was a dream." She told him.

"It didn't feel like one." He admitted.

She didn't say anything. Just held him tighter.

For all the times Lando had been the one to protect her, hand at her back in the paddock, whispering 'I've got you, always' — this was a rare moment where it was her turn to return that.

Amelia shifted slightly, so his arms were around her bump, so he could feel her, all of her, safe and alive and steady. "This is real life," she said into his hair. "Your dreams mean nothing," she said gently, tucking her fingers behind his ear. "They're not omens or premonitions or anything silly like that. Not manifestations. Just your brain sorting through junk data while your body rests."

Lando didn't respond right away, still caught somewhere between shame and exhaustion, eyes trained on her face like she was the only thing keeping him tethered.

"They're not real," she continued, softer now. "It's just neurons firing while your hippocampus files away memories. No intent. No purpose. Just noise."

Her thumb brushed over his cheekbone.

"Nightmares are especially common in high-anxiety environments, particularly when there's big change; like, I don't know," she said lightly. "Maybe preparing for us to have a baby whilst also driving at blinding speeds every weekend."

That pulled a faint, breathy laugh from him. She smiled, but didn't let him look away.

"They mean nothing," she repeated. "They feel real, but they aren't. I'm here. I'm fine. We're fine." She pressed her palm flat over his chest, right where his heart beat wild and frantic just minutes before. "This is real," she said. "Me. You. Here. Everything else? Just your brain being dramatic."

And Lando didn't argue.

He just leaned in and kissed her wrist.

Nuzzled her pulse.

And eventually fell asleep again.

—

Lando was still asleep when she padded out into the hotel suite's sitting room.

She hadn't gone back to sleep. Couldn't.

Not after the way he'd clung to her. The genuine fear that's shined in his eyes.

So she sat on the sofa, blanket over her legs, and pulled out her phone.

Nightmares in expectant fathers.

The search bar filled itself in before she finished typing.

She clicked. Scanned. Saved one medical article, one parenting blog.

Tapped open her Notes app.

THINGS TO REMEMBER — FOR LANDO

    • Nightmares are common in expecting fathers, even more in high-stress environments

 • Fear of losing partner is normal (He's scared. Not silly. Not dramatic.)

    • Don't minimise the fear — reassure with touch + presence.

 • If it happens again, don't ask what the dream was right away   → He will tell you if he wants to talk about it in detail.

 • Deep pressure helps (arms around shoulders, grounding. Not smothering.)

    • Keep lights low.

    • Bring water next time. He won't ask for it.

She stared at the list for a moment, thumb hovering.

She didn't cry. But her throat got tight. Stupidly tight.

It wasn't just that she wanted to help. It was that she wanted to know how. The exactness of it. The steps. Because love, for her, wasn't always instinctive. It was often a system — learned, built, updated in real-time. Just like strategy.

She could do love if she could learn it like this.

A soft sound pulled her gaze back toward the bedroom. Lando shifting under the duvet. She waited, but he didn't call out this time.

She added one more bullet:

 • You fall apart all the time, and he always catches you and puts you back together. When he falls apart — return the favour.

Then locked her phone. Set it down. Took a slow breath.

She'd be ready, if it happened again.

Because that's what love looked like, for her.

Data points. Her Notes app. A quiet war against the clench of unnamable emotion in her stomach.

And a husband who would never have to feel fear alone for the rest of his life.

—

Heavy blackout curtains drawn, both of them stripped down to t-shirts and shorts, the air-conditioning humming softly overhead. Amelia lay sprawled on her back across the crisp duvet, one knee bent, iPad propped against her thighs. She wasn't really reading anymore.

Lando had been beside her a while now, scrolling aimlessly on his phone. Not touching her, just close — their shoulders brushing lightly. He knew better than to crowd her at the end of long race days. She needed decompression like she needed water. Especially now.

Amelia exhaled slowly. The flutter had been there for a minute or two now. Not sharp, not uncomfortable — just present. Familiar. Rhythmic. She'd started tracking it a few weeks ago. There was a pattern forming, she was sure of it. After dinner, quiet room, body finally still — the baby wriggled off like clockwork.

She tapped her fingers gently along her bump. Lando glanced over.

"You okay?" He asked.

Amelia didn't answer right away. She was focused on the pressure inside — just low enough beneath her ribs, like a tiny muscle twitch, but from the inside out. She'd learned not to flinch at it. Not anymore. The first few times had been startling. Unnatural. It had taken her weeks to fully come to terms with it.

She glanced at Lando. "Give me your hand."

He blinked. "What?"

She tugged his phone from his fingers and set it aside, then reached for his wrist and guided his hand down gently, laying it across her belly. He held still immediately, tension tight in his shoulders — like he might scare it off.

Amelia exhaled again. "Just wait."

They sat there like that for maybe a minute. No movement. Lando didn't speak, didn't move. His eyes were glued to his own hand, fingers splayed awkwardly, not quite sure where to press or what to feel for.

Then it happened; subtle, but unmistakable. A faint thud against his palm.

His head snapped up. "Was that—?"

"Yeah," she said. "It's been happening for weeks. Sorry I didn't tell you. I needed to get used to it."

He didn't speak. Just stared down, mouth parted slightly. A second kick followed, firmer this time, more insistent.

"Holy shit," he murmured.

Amelia hummed. "Baby gets real active in the evenings. It's like they know when I stop moving."

Lando adjusted his hand slightly, more confident now. "That's insane."

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "It made me panic, a bit."

"What?"

"The first few times. Sensory-wise. I didn't like not being in control of what my own body was doing. It was... jarring. That's why I didn't tell you."

His eyes flicked to hers, softer now. "Baby."

She smiled faintly. "It's okay now. I— I like it. I like knowing they're okay. Growing. Getting stronger."

He leaned forward, resting his forehead against her shoulder, still keeping one hand pressed firmly against her belly. "You're magical."

Amelia snorted. "I'm incubating."

He smiled against her skin. "Still magic."

The baby kicked again. Lando grinned so wide it made her laugh; full and involuntary.

And just like that, something shifted in the room. The noise from the hotel hallway faded. The distant memories of his nightmare faded away. The race weekend disappeared.

It was just the three of them.

—

Jeddah was hot, fast, and utterly unforgiving.

The kind of circuit that left no room for error, and no patience for discomfort — which, when you were pregnant and doing three jobs at once, was laughably ironic.

Amelia had learned to time her day in ten-minute increments. Ten minutes of data logging. Ten minutes of standing. Ten minutes of sitting. Ten minutes of politely telling people she didn't need help. Ten minutes of actually accepting it when her body disagreed.

Lando had qualified P6. Not ideal, but workable, and Oscar had lined up P5. Both cars in the mix. Everyone pretending not to hover around her as she moved up and down the garage like her body wasn't actively rearranging itself every hour.

The paddock whispers were quieter this weekend. Less second-guessing. Fewer sidelong glances. After Bahrain — after the strategy calls she'd pushed, the moments she'd kept the team calm under pressure — it was like something had shifted. Small things. Andrea deferring to her on timing sheets. Her dad checking in with her first before post-quali meetings. Engineers who used to triple-check her math now just nodded and plugged in her numbers.

Respect, it turned out, came slowly. But it was coming.

Race day was chaos from lap one. A Safety Car reset the whole strategy board by lap fifteen, and Amelia pivoted fast; switched Oscar to the alternate plan, gave Will the nod to bring Lando in early. It was a gamble, but it paid. Tire wear dropped off fast for everyone else, and by lap forty-two, Oscar was in P5 and closing in on Alonso.

He crossed the line in P4.

Lando came home in P8.

The radio crackled with champagne and static and shouting, but when Oscar's voice finally came through, and he said, "Solid comeback." She couldn't help but smile.

After press, after cool-down, after everything, Lando found her in the back hallway near the engineering room, still in her headset, still half-in strategy mode, and pulled her into his arms like he hadn't seen her in weeks.

"You and Oscar," he whispered against her hair. "The two of you are going to keep me on my toes, eh?"

"Yes," she whispered back. "It's fun, isn't it? To really be challenged by your teammate. Hard, but... good."

Lando just laughed and kissed her forehead.

Oscar wandered past then, a bottle of water in one hand, a protein bar in the other. "You guys done with the PDA or..."

Amelia flipped him off without looking. He tossed her the water bottle anyway.

—

Amelia wasn’t one to buy into headlines. She liked numbers. Data. Consistency. So when Oliver Bearman was called up last-minute to debut for Ferrari in Saudi, she’d watched with a measured kind of curiosity — analytical, not emotional.

And then he went and scored points. Solid, clean, fast laps. No drama. No rookie clumsiness. Just grit and focus and a poise that made her sit back in her chair and blink at the final results.

Later, in a quiet debrief room, she pulled up his sector times just to be sure.

Consistent under pressure. No massive tyre drop-off. Clean exit speeds. Braking points tight and repeatable. No rattled radio calls.

She gave a little hum, almost pleased.

When Lando swung by later to ask if she’d seen the race, she just said, “Kid’s got control. Not just fast — smart. I liked it.”

And that, from Amelia, was basically a glowing endorsement.

Behind the scenes, she jotted his name into a private file of “Drivers to Watch” — not because she thought he’d threaten her boys (Oscar and Lando were already leagues ahead in her book), but because she respected the science of performance. And what Ollie had shown under that kind of pressure? That was textbook.

Later that night, curled up on the sofa, she told Lando absently, “He reminds me of you, a bit. Quiet when it counts. Loud when it matters.”

And Lando, who’d already seen the headlines and felt the faint stirrings of a new generation pressing in, just smiled and said, “Yeah. He’s good.”

Amelia nodded once, then added without looking up, “He’ll be better with the right team behind him.”

Which, in her mind, was the truth of it. Because raw talent mattered. But the right data? The right feedback loop? That’s what made drivers great.

And Ollie already had the talent part covered.

So she’d make some calls. Speak to some people.

And in the meantime, she'd sent Carlos a 'Get Well Soon' cake. 

 —

The Quadrant studio in London always smelled like LED lights and too many energy drinks. Cables snaked across the floor, the main set still half-dressed with props from the last shoot — some cardboard weapons from a Mario Kart skit, a suspiciously cracked gaming chair, someone's half-finished iced coffee with a lipstick ring around the lid.

Lando was fiddling with a controller. Max was doing doughnuts on an office chair.

Amelia stood just off-camera. She wasn't due for any on-camera time, just there for the afternoon while Lando filmed promos before they flew out to Melbourne. She hadn't even meant to stay this long — but the couch was comfortable, and she didn't have to explain why she needed to sit down every fifteen minutes.

"You're very pregnant," Pietra said bluntly, appearing beside her with a hand on her hip and a warm grin that made the words feel like affection, not insult.

Amelia made a face. "I'm aware."

"No, seriously," Pietra said, dropping down beside her on the couch, eyes wide as she took in the bump. "When I saw you in January you were just... gently round. Now you're, like... full second trimester in the shape of it."

Amelia nodded. "Twenty-four weeks. All starts happening really quickly once you're out of the teen weeks."

"Wow." Pietra gave Amelia a searching look. Amelia nodded and shifted her hoodie. Pietra rested a hand lightly on her belly, pausing when she felt movement. "Strong."

"Busy," Amelia muttered. "Moves more when Lando's talking. Recognises his voice."

Pietra squealed like that was the cutest thing she'd ever heard, then immediately quieted herself with an apologetic hand gesture, though the excitement still lit her up. "Sorry. That's so sweet."

"I know," Amelia smiled lightly.

"You look beautiful," Pietra said, nudging her. "Like, you've got the glow."

"I've been throwing up for four months."

Pietra snorted. "And you're still hot. It's unfair."

Across the room, Lando looked over. He gave Amelia a crooked little grin before turning back to Max, who was trying to convince the producer to let him do a skit with a Nerf gun and a referee's whistle.

Amelia leaned her head against Pietra's shoulder for a second. "You're still the only woman I've talked to about this who isn't a midwife. Or my mom."

"That's because you're very selective and kind of mean," Pietra said sweetly.

"Thank you."

"But also because women are terrifyingly competitive sometimes and you're like... not built for that kind of bullshit."

"Also thank you."

"I'm serious," Pietra said, turning toward her now. "You're one of the most no-nonsense people I've ever met. I think that's why I like you so much. You never make me guess what you mean."

"That's the autism."

"That's the charm."

They sat like that for a while, low voices and half-lidded smiles, until Lando came over during a break and dropped onto the arm of the couch.

Amelia just reached for his hand and rested it gently on her stomach, where the baby was kicking again — a soft press, not too much. Lando's face softened like it always did.

"You doing alright?" He asked her under his breath.

Amelia nodded. "I'm good. Kind of hungry."

"I'll UberEats you some food." He said.

Max shouted from across the room, "Tell me when I can shoot someone with the Nerf gun!"

—

Oscar's mum had made enough food to feed an army. Four different kinds of salad, two trays of roast vegetables, grilled chicken, a full rack of lamb, and something vegetarian "just in case." Amelia had offered to help twice and had been firmly denied each time with a polite, maternal smile that brokered no argument.

So she sat obediently at the long table on the patio, the soft hum of Melbourne's twilight filling the air, and let the comfort of domestic noise happen around her.

Lando was already two plates deep and talking animatedly with Oscar's dad about tyre temps and the difference between this years compounds. Amelia kept one hand braced on her stomach, the other around her glass of apple juice. Oscar sat on her other side, shovelling roasted potatoes into his mouth like he hadn't eaten in years.

"She feeds me like this every time I come home," he mumbled. "Pretty sure I gain two kilos every time we race in Australia."

"Good," Amelia said, spearing a green bean. "You're too wiry."

Oscar gave her an affronted look. "Rude."

"True," Lando added, not even looking up from his fork.

Oscar's sister set a dish of bread rolls down in the middle of the table, golden and still steaming, then leaned in toward Amelia with a conspiratorial smile. "How's the baby? Are they kicking yet?"

"A lot, actually," Amelia said, smoothing a hand across the curve of her belly. "It used to feel like flutters, kind of like popcorn. Now it's more—defined. Rolling, stretching, tiny kicks. They're... busy in there."

The table laughed; that warm, open kind of laughter that lived easily between mouthfuls of pasta and clinking cutlery.

Under the table, Lando reached out and tapped her knee, fingertips resting lightly for a second or two. Amelia glanced at him. His expression was soft, like something inside him had gone loose. She gave him a small, knowing smile. He didn't need to say thank you. She could feel it in his hand.

Later, when dessert came — two types of pavlova, of course, one topped with mango and passionfruit and the other with strawberries and cream — Oscar's mum passed a plate across the table to Amelia with a practiced kind of care.

"Don't let anyone tell you otherwise," she said. "You're growing a baby. Sugar counts as energy. This is mum-approved."

Amelia smiled, a little caught off-guard. "Thanks. I'll take all the mum-approved sugar I can get."

Lando slid a spoon into her hand without being asked. She didn't miss the way he watched her eat the first bite, like he was mentally cataloguing everything — her comfort, her colour, the rate she was breathing. She let him, because she knew that's how he loved her.

Across the table, Oscar said something dry about his awkward post-race interview, which set off a ripple of laughter. Amelia leaned into Lando's shoulder for a second and just breathed it all in — the open patio doors, the faint scent of jasmine from the garden, the way Oscar's mum had called her "love" all day long.

When the meal wound down and plates were scraped clean and the sky turned the soft violet of a late Melbourne summer, Amelia shifted back in her chair and rested a hand just beneath her ribs. The baby was moving again — just little stretches this time, the kind she was learning to read like a language.

Oscar's sister caught the motion and smiled. "Moving?"

Amelia nodded. "They're a big fan of desert."

"Well," Oscar's mum said, standing to start collecting plates, "clearly they're going to fit in with the Piastri's just fine."

The others laughed again, but it wasn't at Amelia — never at her. She didn't feel observed. She felt... included. Known.

Lando stood to help, moving instinctively to her side as she got to her feet. He didn't make a fuss. Just placed a steadying hand at her lower back and kissed her cheek, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

When they climbed into the back of Oscar's mum's SUV to head back to the hotel, Lando buckled her seatbelt for her without asking. She let him. She was learning to let him help.

Oscar slid into the backseat beside them, his knees knocking Amelia's gently. "Just a warning," he said, completely deadpan. "If you two start being disgustingly PDA back here, I'm getting out and walking."

"You're so dramatic," Amelia said lightly, resting her head on Lando's shoulder.

Lando smirked. "Ignore him. He's jealous because he's not the favourite child anymore."

"It's fine," Oscar said, eyes closed, "I'll always be her first."

Amelia laughed.

—

Albert Park felt familiar in a way few circuits did — maybe because it was Oscar's home race, and Oscar had quietly made it hers too. It was warmer than expected. The kind of dry, sun-struck heat that made the garages feel like furnaces by midday, and the hospitality suites always smell faintly of sunscreen above engine oil.

Amelia ran her iPad on low brightness, wore compression socks under her fireproofs, and drank from her water bottle every minute.

Oscar's family had stopped by the track on Friday. His mum had brought fruit. His sister asked to feel the baby kick and cooed when she did. It was almost too much — not the attention, but the softness of it. Amelia didn't know what to do with tenderness that didn't demand anything in return. She took it anyway. Filed it away for later.

By Saturday, Lando had qualified P4. Oscar managed a clean Q3 lap for P6. Amelia stood between the engineers' wall and the pit box, headset around her neck, a folded pit strategy in her back pocket, her hand resting lightly over her bump.

She didn't miss the way the newer engineers double-checked everything with her. The quiet shift in authority. Trust, finally, not earned through her name or her proximity to Lando, but through clean results and consistent systems. Through knowing the car like she'd built it herself. Because she had.

She didn't say much on race day. Her voice carried weight, and she'd learned when to use it. Oscar got boxed early to cover Hamilton. The undercut worked. Lando stayed out two laps longer than planned, held Verstappen behind for five beautiful corners, and came out ahead after the second stop.

Amelia had trained herself not to flinch when things went sideways — a yellow flag, a botched pit release in the box next door, a lockup into turn nine — but she could feel the baby twist in her stomach with every adrenaline spike. Lando's telemetry showed steady throttle traces. Clean lines. The kind of driving that only happened when he wasn't chasing. When he was already out front.

He took the last podium place on lap 41.

McLaren's first podium of the season.

Oscar followed behind in 4th.

Afterwards, when the champagne had been sprayed, Amelia leaned her head against Lando's sticky shoulder in the back of the garage. Just for a second.

"Such a good drive from both of you," Amelia said.

"Car's really starting to feel dialled in." Lando said.

Amelia hummed, adjusting something on the iPad balanced across her lap. "It'll only keep getting better. I built this car specifically for you and Oscar, remember?"

He shot her a grin. "Yeah, baby. I remember."

Before she could respond, Oscar appeared from the garage tunnel, dropping onto the crate beside them like his limbs had given out. He was already halfway through his second sports drink and looked like he might fall asleep mid-sip.

"God," he groaned. "I feel like I need to sleep for three weeks."

Lando chuckled, scrubbing a hand through his damp hair. "You say that after every race."

"Yeah, well, some of us actually push," Oscar muttered, elbowing Lando in the shin.

The moment hung suspended; the afterglow of adrenaline, the buzz of a job well done, until Lando cleared his throat. "Hey... so—hypothetically—what happens if we're both fighting for the win?"

Oscar didn't say anything right away, just looked at Amelia like he wasn't sure if she was going to laugh or murder them both.

She didn't blink. "Whoever's had the cleaner race gets prioritised race strategy."

Oscar frowned. "Just like that?"

"Yes. Just like that."

Lando tilted his head. "Even if it's close?"

Amelia looked between them, her expression flat. Not unkind. Just firm. "I don't play favourites. I won't have you two fighting each other for points unnecessarily. The data doesn't lie. If one of you's managing tyres better, or has had stronger pace on long runs, or been cleaner through traffic—that's who gets the optimal strategy."

"But what if—" Oscar started.

Amelia cut in. "The data will tell the pit wall exactly who's having the better race. Even if it's just by a tenth. That's how it'll be decided."

They both stared at her for a beat too long.

She raised her brows. "You think that's fair?"

Oscar nodded slowly. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess."

Lando blew out a breath. "It's just weird knowing the person making the call is, you know..."

"Your wife?" Amelia supplied, looking dead at him.

He scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah."

"Doesn't matter," she said simply. "Once the visor's down and you're both in the car, you're just data points to me."

Oscar snorted. "Romantic."

Amelia's mouth quirked. "Don't worry. I'll love you both again once the cool-down lap is over."

Lando let his head tip back, laughing, but Oscar just drained the last of his drink and nodded thoughtfully.

And then, like it had never been tense at all, they sat in companionable silence, shoulder to shoulder, their suits still half-unzipped and reeking of brake dust and heat. Amelia leaned back against the crate, iPad still in hand, calm as ever.

Law laid.

—

Monaco was quiet in that oddly padded way it always was between race weekends — blinds half-drawn, travel bags still by the door, and a kind of stillness that settled over the rooms like breath held too long. The fridge held only a few stragglers: bottled water, half a tub of hummus, one sad lemon. The kind of post-travel chaos Amelia had once found irritating now just made her feel... warm. Anchored. A little undone around the edges, but not in a bad way.

She'd fallen asleep on the sofa in a crumpled sprawl, one leg tucked awkwardly beneath her. She woke with a cramp in her hip and that now-familiar nausea coiled low and constant — not as sharp as it had been in the first trimester, but still there.

Their scan was booked for late morning. Same clinic as always — discreet glass doors, a wall of untouched magazines, that soft, over-perfumed smell of orchids and antiseptic. Amelia sat in the waiting room with one hand resting lightly on the curve of her stomach, her hoodie stretched gently over her bump. The iPad in her lap glowed, unread.

Lando sat beside her, bouncing his knee. A rhythm he didn't seem to notice.

"Are you nervous?" She asked, eyes on her screen but not reading a word.

He shrugged, then nodded. "Dunno. I just... I want to know she's alright."

She hummed in agreement.

They still didn't know the sex for certain, hadn't wanted to find out in December when the offer had been made. But lately, they'd started slipping into the idea of a daughter without thinking. A soft she in the early mornings. A tentative her when Lando scrolled through name lists at night, reading them out loud with too much focus, as if one might suddenly feel right.

They were called through. Same sonographer. Same faint vanilla scent clinging to the corners of the dimly lit room. Amelia eased onto the table, hoodie pulled up, her belly rounding into the cool air. She reached for Lando's hand without needing to ask.

"You want to know the sex today?" The sonographer asked.

Lando nodded once. "Yes. Please."

Amelia gave a small smile. A little tense around the edges. The gel was cold against her skin, the wand firm just under her ribs.

"There we are," the sonographer murmured, screen flickering to life. "Heartbeat is strong. She's measuring just under the 60th percentile. Spine's here — lovely alignment. And very active. You'll be feeling that more and more as she runs out of room."

It landed quietly. No fanfare. No pause for effect. Just: she.

Lando made a sound beside her. Not quite a gasp. Just the breath catching in his throat like it had nowhere else to go.

Amelia blinked. "She?"

The sonographer smiled softly. "She's not shy, this one. There's no mistaking it."

Amelia let out a slow, careful breath. "We'd been guessing," she said, voice thinner than usual. "Didn't want to find out too early. But... yeah. That fits."

Lando was still staring at the screen like it held the answer to something unspoken. Their daughter moved — a small, decisive roll — and pressed one foot against the uterine wall like she was testing the perimeter of her world.

"Looks like she's already got opinions," Amelia muttered.

"Good blood flow," the sonographer continued. "Placenta's anterior, fluid levels are excellent. She's sitting diagonally for now — spine curled along the left. Look at those little hands."

Amelia stared, but something caught in her — a quiet breath that didn't go all the way down. "Can I ask... is there any sign of... scarring?"

The sonographer tilted her head. "You mean from your endometriosis?"

Amelia glanced at Lando, then back. "Yeah. It's minor. Diagnosed when I was a teenager. I've been managing it fine and my midwife isn't concerned, but—"

"Nothing concerning," the woman reassured gently. "There's some faint evidence of prior inflammation near the uterine wall, but it hasn't affected blood flow or implantation. Your body's doing exactly what it should. She's growing in the best possible environment."

Lando's thumb rubbed slowly over the back of Amelia's hand. Quiet. Grounding.

When the scan was done, Amelia wiped the gel from her stomach and sat up carefully. Her joints felt loose lately — like her body had quietly agreed to more change than her brain had signed off on. Ligaments giving, hips stretching. Quiet, invisible work.

Lando carried her water bottle. Didn't let go of her hand until they were outside.

The air was warm and breezy off the marina. Sunlight slipped between clouds like threads pulled through linen.

"You okay?" He asked softly.

She nodded. "She's okay. That's all I care about."

He paused like he wanted to say something — to turn the moment into a joke, or maybe something bigger — but he didn't. Just watched her like he couldn't believe any of it was real.

Back at the apartment, Amelia moved slower. Not tired. Just aware. Of the shift. The weight. The girl inside her.

Lando pinned the scan photo to the fridge with careful precision. Not casually — like it mattered. Like it needed to be straight.

Next to it was a post-it that read: We were right.

Amelia added another below, neat and precise:

24w scan: 144 bpm. Diagonal. 60th percentile. It's a girl.

Lando stood there for a second, then picked up a pen and drew a lopsided heart beneath it.

Later that night, while he brushed his teeth, Amelia curled up in bed and opened her notes app. A new list took shape.

Third Trimester To-Do

• Pack hospital bag

• Final scan at 32w

• Baby CPR course

• Book postpartum physio

• Order blackout blinds for nursery

• Learn how to style baby hair

• Ask Mum about baby clothes storage

• Confirm birth plan with midwife in UK

• Stop Googling "endometriosis birth risks"

She clicked her phone off, rested both hands on her stomach. A flutter answered her. Small. Intentional.

Not a concept anymore. Not an idea.

A girl. Their girl.

Lando slid into bed beside her, silent and warm. He didn't say anything, just reached for her hand and held it. Steady and sure.

And she let him.

—

Amelia had never really enjoyed FaceTime. Too much pressure to make eye contact, to frame yourself properly, to keep a neutral expression when your face wanted to do anything but. But since the pregnancy, she'd started calling her mom more and more. Sometimes audio-only. Sometimes with the camera propped up on the windowsill, a safe few feet away.

That evening, Monaco was sunk in a golden dusk. The blinds were half-open, the sea just visible through a gap between buildings. Lando was out, dinner with his trainer, and Amelia had the apartment to herself for the first time in days.

She called her mom while she was folding laundry. Not dramatic, not ceremonial; she just needed to hear her voice. The call connected quickly.

"Hello, sweetheart."

"Hi, Mom."

Her mom's face appeared; soft lighting, kitchen tiles in the background, a cup of tea in hand. Comfortable. Familiar. The kind of presence that made Amelia's shoulders drop without her noticing.

"You look tired," her mom said, but kindly. Not a judgment. Just a fact.

"I am," Amelia admitted, folding a soft baby onesie she hadn't quite meant to buy yet. "But we had the 24 week scan. She's doing fine."

Her mom blinked. "She?"

Amelia felt it land in her chest, quiet and solid. She smiled, small but real. "Yeah. It's a girl."

Her mom didn't burst into tears, didn't gasp or squeal. She just let out a slow breath and placed her tea down, like she needed both hands to hold the moment. "A girl," she echoed.

Amelia nodded, lips pressed together. "A little girl."

"Oh, sweetheart." Her mom's voice went warm and quiet. "That's... that's beautiful. How's she doing? How are you doing?"

"Heartbeat's good. She's measuring well. Still flipping all over the place, but that's normal. They said she's healthy and active." Amelia paused, fingertips brushing the edge of the folded onesie. "And I'm... okay. Tired. Ligaments are weird. My hips feel like someone's unzipping me from the inside out. But okay."

Her mom smiled, soft and proud. "You always were tougher than you gave yourself credit for."

Amelia swallowed. "I'm coming back to England for the last bit. I want to have her there. At home."

"Of course," her mom said. No hesitation. "You'll stay here. Whatever you need."

"I just..." Amelia took a breath, then let it out in a rush. "I know Lando will be racing. And I'm not... I'm not scared. But I don't want to do it without someone who knows me."

"You won't have to," her mom said gently. "I'll be right there. However you need me. I promise."

Amelia's fingers played with a tiny pair of socks, folding and refolding them. "Do you think I'll be okay at this?"

"I think," her mom said slowly, "that you already are. You're careful. You're clear. You've made a life where this baby will be safe and loved. And you're going to figure the rest out one step at a time."

Amelia blinked hard. "I keep thinking about her growing up. What I'll say to her. What I'll show her. I want to be steady. I want to get it right."

"You won't get everything right," her mom said softly. "None of us do. But she's going to know she's loved. And she'll know you. That's more than enough."

Amelia nodded, her throat a little tight. "Thanks, Mom."

"Always, love."

They stayed on the line a little longer, not talking much. Just the quiet comfort of home on the other end. Eventually, Amelia got up and poured herself a glass of water, carried the phone with her around the apartment. Her mom stayed there on the screen, sometimes commenting on the laundry pile, sometimes just watching her daughter move through her life.

It wasn't dramatic. It didn't need to be.

It was just love; steady and quiet and unspoken, the way it always had been.

—

It hit her on the flight to Japan.

Amelia shifted in her seat for the sixth time in as many minutes, trying to get comfortable. The upgraded seat helped, sure. The little footrest and lumbar support, the quiet of the cabin, the way Lando had wordlessly handed her one of his noise-cancelling earbuds when the hum of the plane started getting under her skin. But none of it stopped the low ache in her hips. Or the swelling in her hands. Or the way her centre of gravity felt just slightly... off.

It wasn't new. But this was the first time she couldn't bring herself to ignore it.

Lando was asleep beside her, a hoodie pulled up over half his face, mouth parted slightly. He'd had his hand on her thigh when he drifted off. It still rested there, warm and reassuring.

She looked down at herself — at the dome of her belly now undeniably there, visible even beneath the soft slope of her hoodie. Twenty-five weeks.

Her iPad screen lit up with her calendar. Back-to-back races. Long-haul flights. Debriefs that stretched into the early hours. The carefully timed quiet minutes between adrenaline spikes.

There wasn't a line in the schedule that said you will have to stop, but she could feel it all the same. A kind of internal countdown.

She opened her Notes app and typed.

When to stop flying?

Ask Dr. Molina about long-haul after 30w.

How long before babies are allowed to travel longhaul?

What if I miss something?

What if the team does better without me?

What if I'm not ready to stop?

She stared at that last one for a long time.

Lando stirred beside her and blinked awake. He glanced over, registered the screen, then her expression.

"Baby, you okay?" He asked, voice thick with sleep.

"Yeah," she said automatically. Then hesitated. "I was just thinking. About how much longer I can keep up with all of this."

He sat up a little straighter, pushed his hoodie back. "Yeah?"

"Travel. Track. Work. This pace. I'm not there yet, but... I can feel the edge coming."

He was quiet for a second. Then, gently, "You know you can stop whenever you need to. No one expects you to—"

"I know," she cut in. Not unkindly. "But I expect me to."

Lando didn't argue. He just shifted closer and rested his hand again over her stomach. His thumb traced absent patterns, slow and grounding.

"You'll know when it's time," he said. "And when it is — we'll figure it out. Me and you and the team."

Amelia leaned her head against his shoulder, eyes still on the screen. Her typed out worries stared back at her.

For now she closed the app, shifted into a slightly more comfortable position, and let herself rest. Not ready to stop yet. But maybe starting to soften to the idea.

Just a little.

—

The garage was half-packed when Amelia finally sat down on one of the flight cases, iPad still in hand, tea cooling on the crate beside her. Her dad dropped into the chair next to her, no clipboard, no headset. Just her dad.

"I've done the maths," she said without preamble. "If everything stays on schedule, I can probably work trackside through to Monaco. Maybe Canada. Depends on what my doctor thinks about the travel."

Her dad nodded like he'd been expecting this. "That gives us until early-June."

"Assuming no complications. If I do decide to bench myself before then, I'm going to need two weeks to train Tom. Ideally three."

"He's on board."

She finally looked up from the tablet. "Yeah?"

"Knows it's temporary. Knows it's your program he'll be running."

Amelia gave a tight nod. She didn't need soft reassurances. She needed facts. Structure. A transition plan.

"I'll still handle all the dev work," she said. "Sim data, mechanical spec reviews, upgrade briefs. That can all be done remotely. I can run analysis from the MTC. Keep my name on the post-session reports."

"You will," her dad said.

"I don't want to fade out."

"You won't."

She glanced down at her stomach, hand resting absently over the slope of her hoodie. "I think I'll fly home after Imola. Be near Mum. Lando'll be in Canada and that's just... it's too far away for me to feel comfortable being on my own. It makes sense."

He didn't argue. Just nodded once. "That buys you recovery time over the summer break. Target Zandvoort return?"

"Realistically, Monza. Depends on baby's health, what the paediatrician reccomends. But I'll be involved well before that."

Her dad leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You know this isn't about proving anything."

"I'm not trying to prove anything," she said, not unkindly. "But if I don't spell it out, people start making decisions on my behalf."

That earned the ghost of a smile.

"You don't have to worry about your place here," he said. "It's yours. Nothing changes."

She nodded again, that single clean tilt of the head that meant she was logging the information. "I want everything documented," she said. "No handover gaps. I'll start mapping out the protocols next week."

"Whatever you need."

They sat in companionable silence for a moment.

"Do you want help breaking it to Oscar?" Her dad asked.

She raised an eyebrow. "He already knows what to expect."

Her dad snorted. "Good. He'll be fine."

Amelia stood slowly, tugging her hoodie into place, checking the tablet again like she couldn't bear to be idle. "I'll work until I can't. And then I'll keep contributing until I'm back."

"Exactly what I'd expect from you."

"Not too soft for your pit wall, then?"

"Terrifying," he said flatly.

She smiled, just a little. "Good."

—

The paddock in Suzuka had always felt different. Not quieter — the energy here was as high as anywhere — but more... reverent. Like the corners themselves held history. Every garage whispered with ritual and rhythm, the hum of a place that demanded precision. Amelia had always liked it.

This time, it felt harder to keep pace.

She was twenty-six weeks pregnant. The travel was getting trickier. Her hips ached more after every flight, and her ankles didn't always bounce back the way they used to. But she hadn't missed a session, not yet. She was still Oscar's race engineer, still elbow-deep in data and debriefs. Still herself.

Mostly.

It was Saturday afternoon when she realised she'd started leaning against the pit wall more often than not — subtle, casual, one hand on the railing like she was just watching sector deltas scroll past. Tom had noticed. He didn't say anything, but he started keeping one ear open on comms, watching her line of sight when Oscar came in from a run.

She appreciated it.

And the team, maybe for the first time, really saw her. Not just as Zak's daughter. Not just as the woman Lando went home to. But as Amelia. The one who rebuilt the simulation code base. The one who restructured McLaren's comms protocols to reduce data lag by half. The one who kept Oscar focused even when he was ready to snap.

Her notes were tighter than ever. Her briefings were concise, efficient. She stopped double-checking her own voice before speaking on the radio. She let herself lead.

It was Oscar's best qualifying session yet.

Lando was P4. Oscar P5. Both cars within half a tenth.

And by Sunday evening, after a clean, hard race that left both drivers exhausted but intact, McLaren had walked away with solid double points and zero drama.

No risky overtakes. No strategic infighting. Just clarity.

In the garage after the race, Oscar leaned his forearms on the back of Amelia's chair and peered at her screen.

"You're glowing."

"I'm sweating," she said flatly.

He grinned. "Same thing."

Lando came in a few minutes later, hair damp, suit unzipped to his waist. He looked drained, but good. Sharp in that post-race way, nerves still hot under the surface.

Amelia turned in her seat and pressed a cold bottle of water into his hand. He took it with a murmured thanks and then crouched beside her chair like he just needed to be close. She let him lean against her knee.

Oscar watched them for a second, then said, "So... there's a break coming up now, right?"

Amelia raised an eyebrow. "Yes."

"Right," Oscar continued. "So what if, just what if, we went somewhere that wasn't a hotel or a racetrack or an airport lounge?"

Lando blinked. "Like a holiday?"

Oscar gestured between them. "You two are about to have a whole new person. I figure you deserve a few days of fake retirement before everything changes."

Amelia narrowed her eyes. "Would you be joining us on this so-called fake retirement?"

He didn't even flinch. "Of course. I'm the honorary family dog. Can't shake me."

Lando snorted. "I mean... a quiet week somewhere would be good. Somewhere warm. No cameras."

"Somewhere with pillows," Amelia added. "And comfortable sun loungers and mocktails on tap."

Oscar nodded solemnly. "Somewhere where Amelia doesn't have to wear shoes if she doesn't want to. I'll look into it."

She should've said no; there was too much to do. Too much to plan. Too many timelines and checklists still open. But she felt Lando's hand on her leg and Oscar's unshakeable grin and the soft thrum of the post-race lull all around them, and something inside her relented.

"Fine," she said, slowly. "But I'm vetoing a resort. I want privacy."

Oscar threw up his hands. "So picky."

"I'm allowed to be picky." She said.

"Yeah." He agreed.

Lando just smiled, tired and soft, like he couldn't quite believe this was his life.

And Amelia, sore-backed and sun-drenched and more herself than she'd felt in months, reached for her water and let herself breathe.

They'd go. Maybe they'd do nothing. Maybe she'd watch Lando fall asleep by a pool while Oscar got sunburned and insisted he wasn't. Maybe it would be good.

Maybe it would be rest.

—

The villa in Mallorca was rented under Oscar's name, but Amelia had commandeered it within five minutes. There were towels folded with hotel-precision on the beds, blackout curtains in every room, and a fridge that had already been stocked to her specifications. No sparkling water, no orange juice with bits, and an entire shelf dedicated to cut fruit and unseasoned carbs.

They had a pool. They had sun. Lando had somehow acquired a ridiculous straw hat shaped like a watermelon slice. Oscar had already been banned from cannonballing before 10 a.m.

Amelia was stretched on a sun lounger, sunglasses on, iPad open across her knees — not working, just tweaking a grocery list and glancing occasionally at the group chat where Max was demanding selfies every hour. Her bump sat proudly in the centre of her soft grey dress, round and obvious now, rising gently with every breath.

Lando floated by in the pool, arms hooked lazily over a pool noodle. "What're you doing?"

"Thinking."

"About what?"

She tapped a note open on her tablet. "Maternity leave."

Oscar groaned from the deck chair beside her, where he was eating an unpeeled nectarine like a feral animal. "It's a holiday. Why are you using work words?"

"It's literally not a work word," she said. "It's a logistics plan. And it directly impacts both of you."

That got their attention.

Lando paddled toward the edge, resting his chin on his arms like a golden retriever. "Go on."

She flipped to the next page in her document. "Okay. So. I'll officially step away after Imola. That gives me time to finish the first round of upgrades and oversee Oscar's spec setup for Monaco and Canada."

Oscar looked nervous. "Who's covering me?"

"Tom Stallard."

"Oh." He blinked. "That's fine."

"You'll still have access to my notes," she added, glancing over her glasses. "I'll be consulting remotely until I give birth — probably from the MTC in Woking, or my mom's house, depending on how uncomfortable I am. You'll both send me debriefs. You will not filter them."

Oscar raised a hand. "Will there be snacks at your mom's? Because I can be convinced to travel there between every race."

"There will obviously be snacks."

Lando looked at her. "How long, baby? Six weeks, eight? You can take the rest of the season if you want. I'll come back to you between every race, no matter what."

"I haven't decided yet," she said simply. "Eight weeks, maybe. Depends on the birth, my recovery, and how you two act without me here. But when I come back, I'll walk straight back into the role. No stepping-stone. No reduced hours. That's already been agreed with Zak and Andrea."

Lando gave a short nod. "Okay. That sounds good." He pursed his lips. "And baby girl...?"

"Baby girl will be with me at all times." She said firmly. "And when I'm on the pit wall, she'll be with my mom. She's already agreed to travel with us. I don't want to hire somebody I don't know to look after our daughter." She told him.

He nodded in agreement. "My mum's already offered to travel with us, dad too. To step in whenever we need a break."

Oscar chewed his nectarine like he was thinking hard. Then, finally, "When I win, can I take the baby on the podium with me?"

Amelia stared at him with genuine horror. "No!"

Oscar blinked.

Lando laughed so hard he nearly choked on pool water.

Amelia looked up at the sky. "I just don't want you to act weird about it. I'm pregnant, not vanishing. I love this job. I worked hard for it. I'll rest, I'll recover, and I'll come back."

Oscar gave a slow, half-serious salute.

Lando climbed out of the pool, water dripping down his arms, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "You don't need to prove anything to us. You know that."

Oscar tossed his nectarine pit into a paper cup. "This baby's going to be a real Grid Kid."

Lando grinned. "I love that."

Oscar pointed at her. "You should get McLaren to make her some branded tiny noise-cancelling headphones."

"I already sent the request," Amelia said.

There was a pause.

Oscar grinned. "God, you're gonna be so good at this."

Lando said nothing, just reached down and threaded their fingers together.

Amelia leaned back, letting the sun find her face. Her feet were propped on a folded towel. Her boys were here, quiet and safe and ridiculous.

And the baby kicked once, just a soft nudge, as if to say: 'I'm here too.'

—

The Shanghai International Circuit thrummed with heat and movement — engineers hunched over telemetry, mechanics rolling tyres with military precision, the air sharp with rubber and tension and something metallic beneath. Amelia kept her pace steady, one hand curved just under her bump like an afterthought, posture instinctively counterbalanced. Twenty-seven weeks pregnant, and the world still spun the same.

She’d just wrapped a meeting with Oscar and his strategists, short, sharp, effective, and was heading back toward the McLaren hospitality suite when Lando appeared, all loose limbs and narrowed eyes, like he’d been looking for her.

“Hey,” he said softly, already scanning her face. “You look pale, baby.”

Amelia exhaled through her nose. “Just the usual dizziness. I’m fine.”

But Lando didn’t look convinced. His gaze drifted downward to the slope of her belly like he could assess her blood pressure with a glance. “Maybe you should take a break. Put your feet up for a bit.”

Before she could offer a rebuttal, Zak appeared on her left, all brisk concern and the slight lean of a man about to intervene. “Honey, I was just about to say the same thing. You’ve been on your feet all morning.”

Amelia glanced between the two of them, arms crossed over her chest, jaw set. “I’m fine.”

“Yes,” Zak said evenly. “But you’re also very, very pregnant, in thirty-degree heat.”

“I’ll take a short break,” she muttered, already heading toward the suite. “Eat something. I’m hungry anyway. Can we find some noodles? Plain ones.”

“Yeah, of course,” Lando said quickly, falling into step beside her.

Inside the hospitality suite, the air was blissfully cool. Amelia sank onto a wide, cushioned chair near the far window and peeled off her cap. A cool drink appeared in her hand, water, with ice and a slice of cucumber, and she leaned back, one hand absentmindedly tracing the ridge of her stomach through her t-shirt. The baby shifted. Not a kick, but a gentle roll, like she was stretching.

A few feet away, near the coffee bar, Zak and Lando lingered; not hovering, exactly, but tethered to her like satellites.

“When she was a kid,” Zak said quietly, arms folded, voice pitched low, “she didn’t cry when she grazed her knees. Not once. Just stood there, blinking, blood running down her leg. It’s like... she feels pain, but her brain doesn’t flag it as urgent. Doesn’t know what to do with it.”

Lando’s jaw flexed. “Yeah. I know.” He was watching her like he always did when she wasn’t watching him — careful, like she was made of glass and iron in equal measure. “She pushes herself harder than anyone I’ve ever met. But I’m watching. I know the signs now. When she’s close to the edge and pretending not to be.”

Zak blew out a breath, not quite a sigh. “Wish I could wrap her in bubble wrap.”

Lando huffed something like agreement. “Yeah. Same. But she’d kick our asses if we tried.”

Zak chuckled. “She gets that from her mother.”

Across the room, Amelia caught their eyes and squinted. “Are you talking about me?”

“No,” they said in unison.

She narrowed her eyes but let it go, already distracted by the appearance of a steaming bowl of noodles being dropped in front of her. 

“This is nice,” she said between mouthfuls.

Lando pursed his lips to hide his smile. 

—

By late afternoon, the circuit had settled into its usual Friday-eve rhythm: cars back in the garage, radios quieter, engineers drifting between briefings and laptops. Amelia finished updating Oscar’s setup notes and slipped her headset off, the weight of it leaving a faint pressure along her jaw.

She spotted Tom near the back of the garage — arms folded, watching the data feed scroll across a nearby monitor. He looked focused, but not too busy. Good.

Amelia adjusted the fit of her polo over her bump, grabbed a spare iPad, and walked over with the steady confidence of someone who expected to be listened to. “Got a second?” She asked, already flipping the tablet around.

Tom straightened. “Always.”

“I want you to start shadowing me properly,” she said. “From now on. Every session. Every debrief. From now until I step back.”

Tom blinked, just once. “Already?”

“Yes, I want both os us to be prepared for any eventuality,” she told him. “You’ll be the most important to Oscar during my leave. And I want the transition to be as seamless as possible for him.”

He nodded slowly. “Understood.”

“You’ll do fine,” she added, tapping the iPad awake. “I know that you’ve got great credentials, and you’re calm, just like my ducky. But I want it done right. You’re not just reading notes — you’re learning how I communicate with Oscar. How I time interventions. Where I let him drive through issues and where I call it early. The tone matters. The silence matters more.”

Tom’s gaze sharpened. “I can do that.”

“I know,” she said simply. “That’s why I requested you specifically.”

A pause. Not long. Just enough for her to glance sideways and see Zak watching from across the garage, arms still crossed, nodding to himself like he approved of the moment without needing to step in.

“I’ll be available to you remotely,” she continued. “From MTC or home in Surrey. You’ll always be able to get in touch if something’s unclear or we need to adjust mid-weekend. But I want you confident enough that you won’t have to.”

Tom looked down at her bump, not long, just a flicker of respectful acknowledgment, and then back at her eyes. “How far out are you planning to step back?”

“Before summer break,” she said. “Likely after Monaco. I want a clean split before Imola. She’s due in late June, early July, and I want to be home by then.”

He nodded again, solid as always. “Alright. I’ll start sitting in properly tomorrow.”

“Good.” She closed the tablet. “And Tom?”

“Yeah?”

“If he complains that you’re not me, remind him I handpicked you. And that he has to do what you say — because I said so.”

Tom grinned. “Got it.”

Amelia turned to go, but paused after a few steps and looked back over her shoulder. “Don’t screw this up, Stallard. For your own sake. I get mean when anybody messes with my boys.”

—

The McLaren war room wasn’t called that officially, but Amelia couldn’t think of a better name. It was tucked behind closed doors at the back of the motorhome, with tinted windows, air-con humming softly, and a huge screen already displaying performance graphs and strategy overlays from the Shanghai Grand Prix.

Lando’s P2 had been hard-earned. Strategic brilliance, excellent tire management, clean defensive driving. Amelia had been proud; of him, of the team, of how the car had performed under pressure.

Oscar had come home P6. No mistakes. Just a race that didn’t quite go his way.

And now, with a double points finish in their pocket and the start of a momentum swing building, they were all squeezed into this meeting to talk about the future.

Specifically: team orders.

“Look,” one of the strategy leads was saying, gesturing toward the display. “We’re in a unique position this season. The car’s competitive. But so are both drivers. Very evenly matched. We should just let them race.”

A few people around the table nodded, murmured agreement. “It’s the fairest approach,” someone else added. “No favouritism. Trust the drivers to race clean.”

“Right,” another chimed in. “Papaya rules—no number one, no number two. No intervention unless absolutely necessary.”

Amelia leaned back in her chair, one hand resting protectively on her bump, the other spinning a pen idly through her fingers. She waited a beat.

Then, calmly, “That’s idiotic.”

Silence.

She didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t need to.

“Letting them race without clear structure is how you lose the team points,” she continued. “It’s how you make emotionally reactive decisions mid-race. It’s how you create resentment—because eventually, one of them will get burned by a call that felt arbitrary. Or too late. Or unfair.”

Zak shifted in his seat but didn’t interrupt. He’d seen her like this before; measured, relentless.

“They’re not in go-karts,” Amelia said. “This isn’t about playground ethics. It’s about execution. Maximising constructor points. Sustaining morale. Keeping both of them an integral part of the long-term plan.”

Someone across the table sighed. “Come on, you think they’ll be okay with one of them being prioritised just because they’ve had a cleaner race that day? Even if the other was leading the championship?”

“Yes,” she said flatly. “I do think that. Because unlike any o you, I’ve already spoken to them about this. At length. Separately. Together. After Bahrain. After Jeddah. Again last night.” She let the silence settle. Let them exchange awkward glances as they realised how on the back-foot they all. “They know what’s at stake. They understand that in a scenario where one of them is consistently faster, cleaner, or better-positioned based on live data, that driver will be prioritised for that race. It’s not a demotion. It’s not a snub. It’s a race-by-race performance-based call.”

“But—” someone began.

She cut them off. “They agreed it would make them both better. Force them to be cleaner, smarter, more strategic. Push each other. Because the moment it’s not based on merit, we undermine the value of their work. And we risk both of them driving more emotionally than tactically.”

Zak finally leaned forward. “You’re saying… no open racing. Just structured flexibility.”

“I’m saying we don’t throw them into a burning building with no fire exits,” Amelia said. “We guide them. We explain our decisions. And we make it crystal clear: we back the driver who’s executed the better race. Full stop.”

She sat back.

No one argued.

After a long pause, one of the older engineers finally muttered, “Hell of a thing when the drivers trust each other more than the people in this room do.”

Amelia arched a brow. “They trust each other because I made sure of that.” She tapped her pen twice on the table. “And because they trust me to be impartial.”

Another beat of silence passed. Then Zak stood.

“Alright,” he said. “Then that’s how it’ll be. We back merit. We run data-forward. Amelia writes the internal protocol. Full review before Miami.”

The meeting dissolved shortly after.

As she stood, Lando appeared in the doorway, fresh from his media obligations. He glanced at her with that careful, familiar look he always gave her after long meetings—curious, proud, a little smug.

“How’d it go?”

She smiled faintly. “You and Oscar are getting merit-based strategy rules. No fighting each other unless it makes sense on the timing screens.”

“Perfect,” Lando said. “I’ll just have to be better than him every week, then.”

Amelia smacked his chest lightly with her folder on the way out. “You can try.”

—

The paddock had mostly emptied by the time Amelia caught up with Oscar. The sun had dipped below the horizon, and the long shadows made the garages feel colder than they were. He was leaning against a stack of tyre blankets near the back of the garage, in a pair of sweats. A half-drunk sports drink hung from his fingers.

He noticed her before she spoke, gave her a tired little smile.

“Fun meeting?” He asked dryly. "I assume it ended with someone muttering something like, 'well, Amelia knows best.'"

She smiled faintly. “Not in those words. But close.”

He looked away, nodding. “So… the strategy thing.”

“Yeah,” she said, stepping up beside him. “They agreed. It's what makes sense.”

Oscar didn’t reply immediately. He wasn’t sulking, that wasn’t his way, but he was being cautious about this. Amelia respected him for that. Always had.

“You’re not going to be sidelined,” she said quietly. “Not ever. But I won’t let you two cannibalise each other. It’s not about protecting Lando. It’s not about picking favourites. It’s about making strategic calls when they matter.”

“I know,” Oscar said. “I get it. I just…” He trailed off, rolling the bottle between his hands. “It’s frustrating, you know?” He added after a second. “To feel like I’m just outside the sweet spot. Every weekend. Not far off. Just not quite there.”

Amelia nodded. “Yeah. I know. But you’re not behind, Oscar. You were still a rookie last year, yeah? And you had a car that you couldn’t drive because it was all-but underivable. I never expected you to walk into this season and get consistent podium finishes. You’re in development. The best kind. The kind that’s going to make you seriously dangerous by midseason. You don’t want to peak now — you want to be ready to win, and keep winning, when it happens.”

Oscar gave her a side-eye. “Midseason, huh?”

“On track, in briefings, in strategy meetings, you’re my priority. Just like Lando is Will’s. So trust me when I say that we will make a data-driven decision to protect your race when it's yours. The same goes for Lando. Neither of you is owed a position. You earn it. And you’ve earned plenty.”

He exhaled, long and slow.

She hesitated for half a second, then added, “Also, you’re the only person who can get under Lando’s skin just by existing, so please don’t stop doing that.”

Oscar snorted. “Oh, I plan to keep annoying him.”

“Good. That’s your most valuable skill.”

They both smiled. The moment settled into something comfortable.

Then Amelia said, softer, “they wanted to let you fight it on the track. No structure. One of you gets an earlier pit, the other would be fucked, because there wouldn’t be any kind of structure.”

Oscar looked at her.

“The structure. The clarity. The mutual understanding,” she continued. “Osc, when everything is vague and reactive and drivers are forced to figure it out mid-race, it screws with your head. I won’t do that to you. Either of you.”

He gave a small nod. “Thanks.”

“And when Tom steps in while I’m off,” she added, “he’ll follow it the same way. Because you’ll help him. And because you’ll remember we built it together.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow. “When do we start calling it the Papaya Doctrine?”

“When you win your first race of the season,” she said without missing a beat.

“Cheeky.”

“Motivated,” she corrected, then pushed gently off the wall and turned to head back inside. “C’mon. Let’s go find Lando.”

Oscar followed, more relaxed now. Lighter.

And when they reached the motorhome, he reached up and tapped the scan photo Amelia had stuck to the communal fridge earlier that week.

“Little engineer better be on my side,” he said under his breath.

Amelia didn’t even turn. “Sorry. She’s already a daddy’s girl.”

—

It was late afternoon in Monaco. Amelia had slipped away from the apartment, sipping on a decaf iced latte and pretending her ankles weren’t already starting to hate her.

She didn’t expect Max to be walking in the same neihbourhood, but he was—of course he was. He veered off course like it was second nature, grin crooked, sunglasses pushed up into his hair.

“Zusje,” he said by way of greeting, already wrapping her in a loose, familiar hug. “You’re massive.”

Amelia made a face. “Max.”

He stepped back to take a better look. “No, I meant — I just mean that—"

“I think that you should just stop talking,” she said flatly.

Max held his hands up in surrender, then leaned against the wall ledge beside her. They sat in companionable silence for a moment. 

Then she said, without ceremony, “It’s a girl.”

Max blinked. “Seriously?”

She nodded, and for a second, something unreadable crossed his face; surprise, maybe, or just the weight of knowing. Then he smiled. Big. Soft. “She’s gonna be trouble,” he said.

“I know.”

“She’ll be outdriving Lando by age twelve.”

Amelia grinned. “Obviously.”

Max looked at her a long moment, then reached out and tapped a gentle knuckle against her arm. “You’d be a good mum to any baby. But a little girl will be so, so lucky to have you, Amelia.”

It was simple, unadorned. But the words wrapped around her heart like a fuzzy blanket. “Thanks,” she said, and meant it.

He hesitated a second longer, then added, “And if you want to name her Maxine, you know...”

“Absolutely not.”

He laughed. “Can’t blame me for trying.”

Maxine. God forbid.

Still — she’d always known he’d be the first to joke about it.

And the first to show up if she ever needed him.

—

amelianorris just posted . . .

amelianorris Baby Girl 💖

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, mclaren and 5.2m others

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landonorris outnumbered already ❤️ by amelianorris

user47 I'm crying girl!dad Lando makes so much sense to me

user13 THIS BEING HER 5TH EVER INSTAGRAM POST??????

pietra.pilao Already the most loved little girl in the world!

user53 pls i don't mean to be parasocial but i rly hope they share baby girl norris' name because i bet its going to be so beautiful

mclaren Limited edition PINK caps are available in the McLaren online store right now! While stocks remain 💘

NEXT CHAPTER

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Generative AI Is Bad For Your Creative Brain

In the wake of early announcing that their blog will no longer be posting fanfiction, I wanted to offer a different perspective than the ones I’ve been seeing in the argument against the use of AI in fandom spaces. Often, I’m seeing the arguments that the use of generative AI or Large Language Models (LLMs) make creative expression more accessible. Certainly, putting a prompt into a chat box and refining the output as desired is faster than writing a 5000 word fanfiction or learning to draw digitally or traditionally. But I would argue that the use of chat bots and generative AI actually limits - and ultimately reduces - one’s ability to enjoy creativity.

Creativity, defined by the Cambridge Advanced Learner’s Dictionary & Thesaurus, is the ability to produce or use original and unusual ideas. By definition, the use of generative AI discourages the brain from engaging with thoughts creatively. ChatGPT, character bots, and other generative AI products have to be trained on already existing text. In order to produce something “usable,” LLMs analyzes patterns within text to organize information into what the computer has been trained to identify as “desirable” outputs. These outputs are not always accurate due to the fact that computers don’t “think” the way that human brains do. They don’t create. They take the most common and refined data points and combine them according to predetermined templates to assemble a product. In the case of chat bots that are fed writing samples from authors, the product is not original - it’s a mishmash of the writings that were fed into the system.

Dialectical Behavioral Therapy (DBT) is a therapy modality developed by Marsha M. Linehan based on the understanding that growth comes when we accept that we are doing our best and we can work to better ourselves further. Within this modality, a few core concepts are explored, but for this argument I want to focus on Mindfulness and Emotion Regulation. Mindfulness, put simply, is awareness of the information our senses are telling us about the present moment. Emotion regulation is our ability to identify, understand, validate, and control our reaction to the emotions that result from changes in our environment. One of the skills taught within emotion regulation is Building Mastery - putting forth effort into an activity or skill in order to experience the pleasure that comes with seeing the fruits of your labor. These are by no means the only mechanisms of growth or skill development, however, I believe that mindfulness, emotion regulation, and building mastery are a large part of the core of creativity. When someone uses generative AI to imitate fanfiction, roleplay, fanart, etc., the core experience of creative expression is undermined.

Creating engages the body. As a writer who uses pen and paper as well as word processors while drafting, I had to learn how my body best engages with my process. The ideal pen and paper, the fact that I need glasses to work on my computer, the height of the table all factor into how I create. I don’t use audio recordings or transcriptions because that’s not a skill I’ve cultivated, but other authors use those tools as a way to assist their creative process. I can’t speak with any authority to the experience of visual artists, but my understanding is that the feedback and feel of their physical tools, the programs they use, and many other factors are not just part of how they learned their craft, they are essential to their art.

Generative AI invites users to bypass mindfully engaging with the physical act of creating. Part of becoming a person who creates from the vision in one’s head is the physical act of practicing. How did I learn to write? By sitting down and making myself write, over and over, word after word. I had to learn the rhythms of my body, and to listen when pain tells me to stop. I do not consider myself a visual artist - I have not put in the hours to learn to consistently combine line and color and form to show the world the idea in my head.

But I could.

Learning a new skill is possible. But one must be able to regulate one’s unpleasant emotions to be able to get there. The emotion that gets in the way of most people starting their creative journey is anxiety. Instead of a focus on “fear,” I like to define this emotion as “unpleasant anticipation.” In Atlas of the Heart, Brene Brown identifies anxiety as both a trait (a long term characteristic) and a state (a temporary condition). That is, we can be naturally predisposed to be impacted by anxiety, and experience unpleasant anticipation in response to an event. And the action drive associated with anxiety is to avoid the unpleasant stimulus.

Starting a new project, developing a new skill, and leaning into a creative endevor can inspire and cause people to react to anxiety. There is an unpleasant anticipation of things not turning out exactly correctly, of being judged negatively, of being unnoticed or even ignored. There is a lot less anxiety to be had in submitting a prompt to a machine than to look at a blank page and possibly make what could be a mistake. Unfortunately, the more something is avoided, the more anxiety is generated when it comes up again. Using generative AI doesn’t encourage starting a new project and learning a new skill - in fact, it makes the prospect more distressing to the mind, and encourages further avoidance of developing a personal creative process.

One of the best ways to reduce anxiety about a task, according to DBT, is for a person to do that task. Opposite action is a method of reducing the intensity of an emotion by going against its action urge. The action urge of anxiety is to avoid, and so opposite action encourages someone to approach the thing they are anxious about. This doesn’t mean that everyone who has anxiety about creating should make themselves write a 50k word fanfiction as their first project. But in order to reduce anxiety about dealing with a blank page, one must face and engage with a blank page. Even a single sentence fragment, two lines intersecting, an unintentional drop of ink means the page is no longer blank. If those are still difficult to approach a prompt, tutorial, or guided exercise can be used to reinforce the understanding that a blank page can be changed, slowly but surely by your own hand.

(As an aside, I would discourage the use of AI prompt generators - these often use prompts that were already created by a real person without credit. Prompt blogs and posts exist right here on tumblr, as well as imagines and headcannons that people often label “free to a good home.” These prompts can also often be specific to fandom, style, mood, etc., if you’re looking for something specific.)

In the current social media and content consumption culture, it’s easy to feel like the first attempt should be a perfect final product. But creating isn’t just about the final product. It’s about the process. Bo Burnam’s Inside is phenomenal, but I think the outtakes are just as important. We didn’t get That Funny Feeling and How the World Works and All Eyes on Me because Bo Burnham woke up and decided to write songs in the same day. We got them because he’s been been developing and honing his craft, as well as learning about himself as a person and artist, since he was a teenager. Building mastery in any skill takes time, and it’s often slow.

Slow is an important word, when it comes to creating. The fact that skill takes time to develop and a final piece of art takes time regardless of skill is it’s own source of anxiety. Compared to @sentientcave, who writes about 2k words per day, I’m very slow. And for all the time it takes me, my writing isn’t perfect - I find typos after posting and sometimes my phrasing is awkward. But my writing is better than it was, and my confidence is much higher. I can sit and write for longer and longer periods, my projects are more diverse, I’m sharing them with people, even before the final edits are done. And I only learned how to do this because I took the time to push through the discomfort of not being as fast or as skilled as I want to be in order to learn what works for me and what doesn’t.

Building mastery - getting better at a skill over time so that you can see your own progress - isn’t just about getting better. It’s about feeling better about your abilities. Confidence, excitement, and pride are important emotions to associate with our own actions. It teaches us that we are capable of making ourselves feel better by engaging with our creativity, a confidence that can be generalized to other activities.

Generative AI doesn’t encourage its users to try new things, to make mistakes, and to see what works. It doesn’t reward new accomplishments to encourage the building of new skills by connecting to old ones. The reward centers of the brain have nothing to respond to to associate with the action of the user. There is a short term input-reward pathway, but it’s only associated with using the AI prompter. It’s designed to encourage the user to come back over and over again, not develop the skill to think and create for themselves.

I don’t know that anyone will change their minds after reading this. It’s imperfect, and I’ve summarized concepts that can take months or years to learn. But I can say that I learned something from the process of writing it. I see some of the flaws, and I can see how my essay writing has changed over the years. This might have been faster to plug into AI as a prompt, but I can see how much more confidence I have in my own voice and opinions. And that’s not something chatGPT can ever replicate.

[genderkoolaid]

Translated with Google and edited for clarity

Transgender men in Mexico suffer the same type of violence as trans women, but they tend to remain silent and not report it due to gender stereotypes that impose the idea of ​​strength on men, LGBT rights activists agreed on Wednesday. Davien Gómez, a transgender man originally from Guadalajara (western Mexico), told EFE that this sector faces attitudes of devaluation in society, since many of them are in a process of gender transition in which their feminine features have not completely disappeared. “Since they are perceived as women from the start, they have this idea that they will always be women. There are [transmasculine people] that do not have a phallus, but that see themselves as cisgender men, so there is not so much of a problem as long as no one knows, but if they do not [pass as cis, they think,] "how can I consider you a man if you look like a woman?” he said. The activist from the Impulso Trans organization stated that this devaluation is present not only in front of acquaintances or in work and family environments, but also when trying to establish emotional relationships in person or on dating apps focused on the LGTBIQ+ community. Impulso Trans and the Existimos Foundation conducted a survey among trans men in various states of the country, in which they found that 80.2% of the participants have experienced discrimination and violence, but 9.9% of them do not know how to identify it. In the data released within the framework of the LGTBIQ+ Pride month, it stands out that 54.9% of transmasculine people experience violence in the family, 50% at school, 33.5% at work, 38.5% on the street and 34.6% when requesting a service in public institutions. Adrián Arellano, a trans man, told EFE that sometimes violence arises because people have an idea of ​​what it means to be a man, dictated by a heteronormative system in which only what is conceived as masculine is valid. “There are people who believe that all trans men want to have a beard and want to look 100% like a [cis] man, if we don't get to that point we continue to be treated as women,” he explained. Worse still, transgender people face verbal and physical violence because of their appearance or gender expression, attacks that extend to those who identify as non-binary, although transgender men tend not to report them, Gomez added. “It doesn't have the visibility that transfemicides have (...) there is a huge invisibility towards the trans male community and it is very strange that transmasculine people cannot say what happens to them because of this sexist idea that men have to put up with it or that nothing happens to them,” she said.

According to the survey conducted in early 2024, trans men who have experienced violence or discrimination do not file a complaint because they do not know how or where to do so (31.9%), because nothing will change (23.1%) or out of fear (19.2%). Izack Contreras, coordinator of Impulso Trans, told EFE that while it is common for trans men to remain silent out of machismo or to act tough, they also do so because they do not know how to recognize or differentiate violence. “We don't recognize violence, we don't know when I'm experiencing violence or discrimination and I don't know where to go or how to report it or what to do, in general. Add to that the fact that the justice system doesn't work, so we report it, but nothing happens,” she said. Of the survey participants, they found that in 6.6% of cases there was no change among those who dared to report, 3.8% of them were re-victimized, and in 2.2% of cases there was reparation of the damage. Based on these results, both organizations will launch a campaign to make the problems of the trans male community visible, “to make them aware of the violence they may experience, to inform them of the places to go if they are victims and to generate a culture of respect in different areas of society,” explained Contreras.

[dandelionsresilience]

Good News - July 15-21

Like these weekly compilations? Tip me at $kaybarr1735! (Or check out my new(ly repurposed) Patreon!)

1. Thai tiger numbers swell as prey populations stabilize in western forests

“The tiger population density in a series of protected areas in western Thailand has more than doubled over the past two decades, according to new survey data. […] The most recent year of surveys, which concluded in November 2023, photographed 94 individual tigers, up from 75 individuals in the previous year, and from fewer than 40 in 2007. […] A total of 291 individual tigers older than 1 year were recorded, as well as 67 cubs younger than 1 year.”

2. Work starts to rewild former cattle farm

“Ecologists have started work to turn a former livestock farm into a nature reserve [… which] will become a "mosaic of habitats" for insects, birds and mammals. [… R]ewilding farmland could benefit food security locally by encouraging pollinators, improving soil health and soaking up flood water. [… “N]ature restoration doesn't preclude food production. We want to address [food security] by using nature-based solutions."”

3. Harnessing ‘invisible forests in plain view’ to reforest the world

“[… T]he degraded land contained numerous such stumps with intact root systems capable of regenerating themselves, plus millions of tree seeds hidden in the soil, which farmers could simply encourage to grow and reforest the landscape[….] Today, the technique of letting trees resprout and protecting their growth from livestock and wildlife [… has] massive potential to help tackle biodiversity loss and food insecurity through resilient agroforestry systems. [… The UN’s] reported solution includes investing in land restoration, “nature-positive” food production, and rewilding, which could return between $7 and $30 for every dollar spent.”

4. California bars school districts from outing LGBTQ+ kids to their parents

“Gov. Gavin Newsom signed the SAFETY Act today – a bill that prohibits the forced outing of transgender and gay students, making California the first state to explicitly prohibit school districts from doing so. […] Matt Adams, a head of department at a West London state school, told PinkNews at the time: “Teachers and schools do not have all the information about every child’s home environment and instead of supporting a pupil to be themselves in school, we could be putting them at risk of harm.””

5. 85% of new electricity built in 2023 came from renewables

“Electricity supplied by renewables, like hydropower, solar, and wind, has increased gradually over the past few decades — but rapidly in recent years. [… C]lean energy now makes up around 43 percent of global electricity capacity. In terms of generation — the actual power produced by energy sources — renewables were responsible for 30 percent of electricity production last year. […] Along with the rise of renewable sources has come a slowdown in construction of non-renewable power plants as well as a move to decommission more fossil fuel facilities.”

6. Deadly cobra bites to "drastically reduce" as scientists discover new antivenom

“After successful human trials, the snake venom antidote could be rolled out relatively quickly to become a "cheap, safe and effective drug for treating cobra bites" and saving lives around the globe, say scientists. Scientists have found that a commonly used blood thinner known as heparin can be repurposed as an inexpensive antidote for cobra venom. […] Using CRISPR gene-editing technology […] they successfully repurposed heparin, proving that the common blood thinner can stop the necrosis caused by cobra bites.”

7. FruitFlow: a new citizen science initiative unlocks orchard secrets

“"FruitWatch" has significantly refined phenological models by integrating extensive citizen-sourced data, which spans a wider geographical area than traditional methods. These enhanced models offer growers precise, location-specific predictions, essential for optimizing agricultural planning and interventions. […] By improving the accuracy of phenological models, farmers can better align their operations with natural biological cycles, enhancing both yield and quality.”

8. July 4th Means Freedom for Humpback Whale Near Valdez, Alaska

“The NOAA Fisheries Alaska Marine Mammal Stranding Hotline received numerous reports late afternoon on July 3. A young humpback whale was entangled in the middle of the Port of Valdez[….] “The success of this mission was due to the support of the community, as they were the foundation of the effort,” said Moran. [… Members of the community] were able to fill the critical role of acting as first responders to a marine mammal emergency. “Calling in these reports is extremely valuable as it allows us to respond when safe and appropriate, and also helps us gain information on various threats affecting the animals,” said Lyman.”

9. Elephants Receive First of Its Kind Vaccine

“Elephant endotheliotropic herpesvirus is the leading cause of death for Asian elephants (Elephas maximus) born in facilities in North America and also causes calf deaths in the wild in Asia. A 40-year-old female received the new mRNA vaccine, which is expected to help the animal boost immunity[….]”

10. Conservation partners and Indigenous communities working together to restore forests in Guatemala

“The K’iche have successfully managed their natural resources for centuries using their traditional governing body and ancestral knowledge. As a result, Totonicapán is home to Guatemala’s largest remaining stand of conifer forest. […] EcoLogic has spearheaded a large-scale forest restoration project at Totonicapán, where 13 greenhouses now hold about 16,000 plants apiece, including native cypresses, pines, firs, and alders. […] The process begins each November when community members gather seeds. These seeds then go into planters that include upcycled coconut fibers and mycorrhizal fungi, which help kickstart fertilization. When the plantings reach about 12 inches, they’re ready for distribution.”

July 8-14 news here | (all credit for images and written material can be found at the source linked; I don’t claim credit for anything but curating.)

[lousycapy]

Which F1 fanbase is the fruitiest?

The results!!! The analysis is pretty lengthy, so all the details and the complete analysis as well as the rankings will be under the “keep reading” line for usability of tumblr 😵‍💫. However, if you don’t want to get into that and are just interested in the main result, know that the most queer fandom amounted to be Liam with 87.5%, and the least Lando with 62.9%.

First off, small mistake on my part that I wanted to address. Whilst making the polls I added aromanticism to the list of sexual orientations 😔. Idk aroace has somehow merged into a single entity in my mind so including both was like a reflex to my tired self, but obviously people can desire to have a sexual life without necessarily wanting to entertain a romantic life! For this reason the aromantic section of the polls will be included to the Prefers not to say/See results section, which means it will not be weighted for the complete analysis. If you still were curious of which fandom contains the highest and lowest rates of aromanticism (normalized dataset by excluding Prefers not to say/See results category), they are respectively Liam with 9.2% and Lewis with 1.2%.

Second off, this research is definitely not meant to be taken seriously! The sample sizes are way too small to be considered representative, and even then Tumblr (sole place where the polls were conducted) has a specific community that may (let’s be honest pretty assuredly lol) present a higher rate of queer representation than, let’s say, Twitter or Instagram. On average only a small fraction of a driver’s fans is present on Tumblr and would have seen the poll I posted, so the proportion of certain sexual orientation (I presume heterosexuality specifically considering the geopolitical environment of formula 1) will be much more significant in real life than shown here. Also, results may have been influenced lightly by people reading the tags from other voters before voting themselves, or even voting on polls for drivers they’re not a fan of instead of using the “see results” option to satisfy their curiosity. That said, the measures here are only meant to be a fun project now that I’m on break 😈.

Time for the interesting part, here come the results!

Starting with a table to compile the overall votes from each fanbase. If you want to explore the polls directly you can check the “Fruitiest f1 fanbase data” tag on Tumblr. The numbers are all x/100 with one decimal due to Tumblr’s limitations.

The main category in most of these polls ended up being the Prefers not to say/See results category, sometimes amounting to more than half of the votes for certain fanbases. As to make the data more interesting to analyze, this category and the aromantic votes (which do not constitute a sexual orientation as specified earlier) will be excluded from further analysis. The values of the relevant votes will be multiplied to come back onto a x/100 basis, to facilitate comparison between fanbases.

Which gives us this more representative graph of the proportion of each sexual orientation in each fanbase by normalizing the proportion of each sexual orientation to the total amount of votes considered for further analysis.

As you can see bisexuality occupies a huge fraction of the votes for all fandoms! Heterosexuality and asexuality are also proudly represented. Gay is surprisingly low in most cases, going as far as being null in Carlos’ fanbase.

As the main goal of this study, overall queerness of the fanbases will be measured first. Here is a ranking of the fanbases from biggest to smallest proportion of queer members out of a hundred people (so total amount of normalized votes minus heterosexuality) :

Liam’s fanbase comes out on top! Obviously the overall queerness representation appears to be wildly over inflated, considering that heterosexuality remains the most common sexual orientation in the world and that Tumblr harbours a pretty specific community. However, considering all data for all drivers’ fanbases was taken from tumblr, the comparison between each other still remains somewhat relevant. Considering the popularity of Carlando on the f1 scene, seeing both their fanbases at the bottom came as a surprise to me.

Next, I made mean averages of the proportion of each sexual orientation in the fanbases (excluding the Aromantic/Prefers not to say/See results categories from the dataset) and compared each fanbase to this average to show who deviated the most from the overall trend.

Thus, this would correspond to the average f1 driver’s fanbase if it was composed of 100 people :

Without surprise, bisexuality keeps its lead over every other sexual orientation. However, seeing heterosexuality as only half of bisexuality’s value feels shockingly low. Others is the least represented category overall, which was to be expected due to its abstract title and low representation irl of sexual orientations different than the ones already named. Gay, as said previously, is the least represented of the named categories.

And here are the deviations for each drivers’ fanbase to the mean average f1 driver’s fanbase in table and graph forms :

The deviations from the mean were also calculated in percentages, but since small variations in the “others” category so drastically affected the percentages and overall scale of the graphs (made other numbers too difficult to see) I preferred not to present the graphs for these results. However, I did make a table to regroup them :

I also performed chi-squared tests to make sure the variations in expected values of the mean average vs observed values in a driver’s fanbase numbers couldn’t be reasonably attributed to hazard and that there was, to a certain degree, a correlation between a driver’s abnormally small or large representation of the sexual orientations compared to the mean. 0.05 was used as the significance level threshold. Cases in green in the subsequent table were over the critical value for the degree of freedom (n=6) and thus permitted the rejection of the null hypothesis :

Based on this table, Lewis could be considered to have the fanbase the most likely to conform to the null hypothesis, and Lando the least likely (null hypothesis=variations due solely to hazard)! Most fanbases fall under the null hypothesis.

Here are the rankings for each specific sexual orientation’s proportion of the fanbase for each driver, from highest to lowest proportion of x/100 :

Notably, Carlando dominates the hetero category, the gays love Mercedes, the asexuals prefer the younger drivers and Liam has the biggest unknown queer community.

If you’re still reading this, well, thanks for taking the time to look at my silly numbers. Hope you have a great day, do crimes, and hydrate! Peace 😪

[evedaser]

Merlin Spell Review

After rewatching the entirety of the show, some episodes more than once, and taking notes the whole time, I am so excited to finally present to you a full summary of the magical data* from 2008-2012's BBC Merlin.

*Specifically about the spells, therefore innate/passive abilities were not included! Morgana's visions, Merlin's Dragonlord commands, Anhora's teleportation etc DO NOT COUNT.

BBC Merlin contains 512 spells over the course of 65 episodes.

Characters

Merlin

Merlin cast 312 spells (60.9%) over the course of the show for an average of exactly 4.8 spells per episode. 112 of his spells were cast nonverbally, comprising 35.9% of his total magic usage. This proportion was at its highest in s1 (35.1%) when his magic was at its least refined and most instinctual, and s5 (71.2%) when his magic was at its most powerful.

(The other 39.1% of spells are divided between 41 other characters.)

He is the most consistent magic user in the series, being the only magician to cast in (almost!) every episode. There were 12 episodes where he was the only character to perform magic (including some surprising ones like s4e9: Lancelot du Lac, where Morgana's resurrection of Lancelot doesn't actually use any spells. In fact, Merlin is the only one to use spells in any of the three episodes named after Lancelot - s1e5: Lancelot, s2e4: Lancelot and Guinevere, and s4e9: Lancelot du Lac).

Season 3 Episode 8: Eye of the Phoenix is the only episode in the show in which Merlin does not cast any spells. He does still perform magic in this episode via the use of his Dragonlord abilities, however these were not measured in this tally.

Merlin did not throw anyone until Season 2, where he throws Jonas against the wall in a confrontation in Episode 5: The Beauty and the Beast I. The first time he threw anyone nonverbally was in Episode 13 of the same season, The Last Dragonlord, when, in a fit of anguish, he instinctively threw and killed the soldier who had just stabbed Balinor. In general his combat strategy tends towards using the environment (dropping tree branches, chandeliers, slamming doors) or the opponent's own equipment (heating sword hilts, breaking saddles, pushing weaponry against their will) against them rather than brute force, though he does transition more toward throwing in the later seasons. By the end of the series, he had used spells to throw people, either verbally or nonverbally, 24 times, still less than Morgana despite his head-start.

He cast his highest amount of spells in s4 (69) and his lowest amount in s5 (52).

Merlin used magic to do his chores 9 times on screen.

The lovely @arrowlovesdragons asked that I note how many of Merlin's spells were for Arthur, which I did and subsequently turned into this graph:

The most common characters included in "Other" were Gwen and Gaius, Morgana in the earlier seasons, and very notably in s2 (hence the large increase), Freya. Any spells Merlin did for Uther were counted under "Camelot".

Or, if you want a simplified version (wherein I factored "Others" as Merlin's own desires, and "Camelot" as being for Arthur):

TL;DR when Merlin said "I use it for you, Arthur, only for you." he was blatantly lying. That being said, he still devotes almost half of all of his magic to just Arthur. In s5 when he makes that statement, it's more than half. Considering Balinor told Merlin that he is magic itself... well. Merlin wasn't too far off.

Morgana

Morgana is the second most prolific caster in the show, casting 59 spells (11.5%) across the 25 episodes she is magically active in for an average of exactly 2.36 spells per episode. She has the highest proportion of accidental casts in the show, the first in Season 1 Episode 12: To Kill the King, wherein her touch activates the Mage Stone, and the other 5 in Season 2 Episode 3: The Nightmare Begins, where she casts magic in a panic after being woken by nightmares.

The aforementioned artefact activation in Season 1 is her first specific usage of magic in the show, and if you would prefer not to count that, then the also-aforementioned panic-magic are her first spells.

Morgana had the highest proportion of magic intended for violence by a very large margin. 34 of her 59 spells (57.6%) were intended to cause harm to others (harm to others for the purpose of protecting someone not included - this is why Merlin's stat for this is so much lower). She also used throwing as her chosen method of combat magic more than anyone else in the series, throwing people a total of 25 times (38.5% of all person-throwing in the show). The first person she threw was Merlin in Season 3 Episode 5: The Crystal Cave.

In Morgana's final episode - Season 5 Episode 13: The Diamond of the Day II, where she casts 5 spells - her last four spells are used to hurt or kill others, but her first was to protect Mordred (albeit by killing the soldiers around him). All the way at the end, she still truly cared for someone.

Other High Priestesses and Servants of the Old Religion

Nimueh is the first recurring magic user, aside from Merlin, to appear in the show. She mostly uses her magic to be malicious and evil, but does take Merlin to the Isle of the Blessed and gives him water from the cup of life with which to heal Arthur. Her intentions around this are never made clear.

Despite 70% of her spells being used explicitly for harm, she never directly attacks someone until Episode 13, where she launches two fireballs at Merlin. It is also interesting to note that she is one of very few villains who never attacks Arthur. Her malice was always focussed on Uther and his kingdom, not misdirected towards his son.

Throughout her time on screen, Morgause was a formidable enemy. In her first appearance (Season 2 Episode 8: Sins of the Father) she performs 4 spells. She is the first person to enchant an animal (discounting Edwin Muirden's Elanthia Beetles because they operated more like magical items than natural animals) and is linked to both of Ygraine's appearances, with the spirit she raised in s2e8 and the mandrake root she enchanted in the first two episodes of Season 3. Like many more experienced magic users in the series, she relied heavily on enchantments to weave complex and manipulative webs of magic rather than brute force violence. In Season 2, she actually doesn't use magic for direct violence at all. The Knights of Medhir, who were meant to carry out violence on her behalf, were only shown to be responsible for the deaths of the knights Arthur took with him to inspect the fortress in the beginning of the episode. They did not kill anyone in Camelot.

That being said, she can be extremely violent when she so chooses. The first person she acts against directly is one of Cenred's guards, who gets little further than drawing his sword before she has thrown him across the room and through a table. In that very same episode, her soldiers knock Merlin out (for several hours), and she subsequently binds him in magical chains and leaves him for the serkets. Very friendly. Catching up on the violence I see.

Most of the other creatures and messengers of the old religion are bound to a specific purpose. Anhora, the keeper of the unicorns, only ever deals with matters dealing with unicorns. Grettir and the Cailleach are gateway spirits. None of them get to do many spells because, within their purview, there just isn't a need for it. The Disir do slightly more, but only slightly.

Fun fact, those were the only four I categorised under "Messengers of the Old Religion" in my spreadsheets. Anhora is from Season 1 and so cannot count towards this, however the other three are post-Gwaine, and all three of them use a spell to get Gwaine to lay off threatening them. For Grettir and the Cailleach, it is their only spell. The Disir's only other spell is summoning the rune mark that got them into the situation in the first place. That is a 100% pissed-off-by-Gwaine rate among the spirits of the old religion. I'm sure Merlin would be thrilled (he was there for all of them).

All of them seem to believe in Arthur's potential, but they are not as assured of his fate as Kilgharrah leads Merlin to believe they should be. The Dochraid -- who I included as a Magical Creature and not a spirit -- chooses to support Morgana and quite actively opposes Arthur, despite being a creature aware of Emrys, and, you would think, probably the prophecies too. She's not alone in this. That being said, the Cailleach seemed to derive some joy out of Morgana's fear in 4x01, and did refuse Merlin's sacrifice. To me, this shows that at no point in the show did the old religion itself "pick a side" in the war, it was only ever up to Merlin, Morgana, and Arthur to prove who was right.

I don't have interesting magic stats about these characters for you because they were usually too busy dealing with Gwaine to do any actual magic. My apologies.

Mordred

Mordred did very very little magic throughout his time on screen, especially in Season 5. In his three child episodes, he performs exactly one spell in each of them. The first is an instinctive reaction to Cerdan's execution in Season 1 Episode 8: The Beginning of the End, shattering Morgana's mirror with a mental scream, and the other two are both violent actions of self-defense when surrounded by Camelot soldiers. Poor kid.

As an adult, Mordred performs only three spells.

He throws Morgana at the Cauldron of Arianrhod after Merlin abandons him to deal with her on his own (5x09),

He screams, out loud this time, and absolutely destroys the dungeons around him as a reaction to Kara's execution (5x11), and

He performs the only cooperative spell in the entire show, wherein he and Morgana combine their powers to launch a gigantic fireball at Stowell (5x12).

As a child, he was built up as someone with a great deal of power dealing with an incredibly hostile world. We were led to believe he would grow into someone dangerous, perhaps matching even Merlin's calibre of sorcery. Mordred ended up growing into a world in which he suppressed his magic for the sake of laying low and fitting in, but when he used his power, he was unstoppable.

Sorry for the break from the stats there, there just isn't a lot to say about Mordred statistically, except that the only spell he ever performs verbally is that final one he does with Morgana. All of his personal magic usage is done without incantations, and half of it is pure instinct. It's understandable why Merlin was so afraid of him.

Guest Characters

These are characters who only appeared in one episode (double-parters not-withstanding) (or in Alator's case only cast magic in one episode).

The highest casting guest character was Edwin Muirden, who cast 9 spells in s1e6: A Remedy to Cure All Ills.

The lowest casting guest characters were Anhora (1x11), Cornelius Sigan (2x01), Jonas (2x05), Balinor (2x13), Taliesin (3x05), the Sidhe Elder who attacked Merlin in his chambers (3x06), Grettir (3x08), the Cailleach (4x02), Lochru the Vates (5x01), and Ari (5x12), who all cast only one spell in their on-screen appearances.

The median was represented by all the characters who cast 2 spells in their on-screen appearances: Sophia (1x07), Aulfric (1x07), Cerdan (1x08), Tauren (1x12), Alice (3x09), and Osgar (5x05).

Honorary mention to the only two on-screen sorcerers who went unnamed in BBC Merlin, both of whom were vendors who sold their enchanted items to extremely-obviously-evil people and were immediately killed. R.I.P these guys (1x02 and 3x04):

(There were other magic users who went unnamed, but they weren't human: the goblin in 3x03, the troll in 2x05 and 2x06 -- "Lady Catrina" was her DISGUISE -- , the Diamair -- more of a title than a name --, and from 4x08 you could argue 'Lamia' is her species and not her name, but she does introduce herself by that.)

Episodes

The episode with the highest amount of spells was Season 5, Episode 13: The Diamond of the Day II with 19 spells cast. This was split between Merlin, who contributed 14, and Morgana, who contributed 5.

The runner up was Season 1, Episode 1: The Dragon's Call with 17 spells cast. This is split between Merlin, who casted 12 times, and Mary Collins, who casted 5 times.

The episode with the lowest amount of spells was Season 5, Episode 11: The Drawing of the Dark with only 2 spells cast. This was split between Merlin and Mordred, who each casted once. Mordred's spell was instinctive, a wave of destruction following his anguish at Kara's death.

There were 2 other episodes that shared such a low count. The first is Season 1 Episode 11: The Labyrinth of Gedref. Anhora's teleportation and the curse itself both were not counted as no deliberate spells were involved. One of this episode’s spells didn't even happen on screen, we only saw it being cast (Merlin used magic to kill the rat in Arthur's chambers, though we never saw exactly how). The second is Season 2 Episode 2: The Once and Future Queen.

The median was represented by all the episodes which had 7 spells to their name, listed as follows. s1e8: The Beginning of the End, s2e11: The Witch's Quickening, s3e4: Gwaine, s3e5: The Crystal Cave, s3e9: Love in the Time of Dragons, s4e2: The Darkest Hour II, s4e12: The Sword in the Stone I, and s5e8: The Hollow Queen.

As a bonus: The most common spell value per episode (the mode if we're talking stats, which we are) was 5. 10 out of the show's 65 episodes (15.4%) contained exactly 5 spells.

The average spell count per episode was 7.88.

Spells

The most common type of spell cast in the entirety of Merlin was Telekinesis in both verbal and nonverbal forms. It comprised 108 spells, or 21.14% of all spells shown on screen. That being said, if you separate verbal and nonverbal forms, the nonverbal Telekinesis becomes the second highest usage of magic, and the verbally incanted Object Manipulation becomes the fifth. It is bearing that separation in mind that I give you the following spell type top 3:

Enchantment. The big catch-all. 97 spells, 18.98% This is a big one, it accounts for every spell targeted on an object or a creature, provided they didn't belong to other categories*. It included enchanting poppets, amulets, bracelets, potions. It included all the love-spells, applied directly or not. It included the one other instance of mind-control, it included the GPS function Morgause installed in Arthur's horse, it included the spell Merlin used to clean the stain off Arthur's shirt. It included Morgana's blatant Darth-Vader rip-off force choking, and plenty of other things. Huge catch-all, very common. Merlin used enchantments 46 times.

Telekinesis. Classic. Non-verbal only. 62 spells, 12.13%

Elemental. Also classic. Verbal only. 61 spells, 11.94% This is another category that is split between verbal and nonverbal. If you combine both types of elemental spells, it comes out as 86 spells total (16.83%). The vast majority of this is flame and heat magic, but Merlin also uses wind several times throughout the show (he's the only one to do this) and, on occasion (literally only where his loved ones -- Arthur -- are in mortal peril -- 1x13 and 5x13 only), lightning. He is known to be able to cause rockfalls (also done by only Merlin) and precisely one time causes a full-scale earthquake. No one uses commands elemental water magic at any point in the show (spirits who happen to live in lakes/rivers doing magical things do not count, it has to be related to the water. Merlin does use magic related to water a couple times, but it was always categorised under other things).

Honourable mention to Violent Telekinesis, the term I used for the nonverbal "throwing people" spell, which came in 4th with 51 spells (9.98%). It's higher if you combine it with its verbal form, which I literally had to title Throwing (14 spells, 2.74%). That means that on 65 instances was magic used to throw people with an intention of causing harm, which averages out to exactly once per episode.

* There were two types of spells that were definitely enchantments but which I chose to separate into their own categories. The first of these is Artefact Activation, which is when a spell is used to activate a magical item that has already been enchanted. A good example of this would be the entirety of Gilli's magic, all of which was done via the use of an already-magical ring. Another good example is in s4e5: His Father's Son, when Morgana uses a nonverbal spell to activate the curse she placed on Arthur's sword the night before. The other of these categories is self-explanatorily named Locking/Unlocking, and I separated it simply because it was so common and I was curious.

Seasons

Seasons 3 and 4 are tied for most amount of spells cast, each with 108 spells in their 13 episodes. Season 1 has the least, with only 96. Overall, the show was pretty consistent with the amount of magic it did, with the average sitting mostly within the 7.5-8.5 range at any given time whilst I was constructing these tallies. The top five episodes of the entire show are a perfect distribution action the seasons, with one episode from each (1st. 5x13, 2nd. 1x01, 3rd. 4x06, 4th. 2x03, 5th. 3x06).

Season 4 has the highest lowest-episode spell count at 4, whereas s1, s2, and s5 have their lowest at 2, and s3's lowest has 3.

Most of the data on the spreadsheets were not organised by Season, though many of my physical tallies were. If you're interested in how the seasons compare, send me an ask or a message and I'll happily fish that information out for you. Otherwise, most of the data about the individual seasons has already been uploaded under other posts, so I won't make this section any longer.

Fun/Opinions

I'll do my narrative analyses later on a separate post, but just know it's so important to me that the top two episodes are the finale and the pilot, and the lowest is The Drawing of the Dark. At the top, two episodes that are so quintesentially about a magic boy in a world where his powers are desperately needed, Merlin (Arthur) at his very beginning and at his end, and at the bottom an episode that really was not about magic at all. The story of Kara's death was never a story of magic. She was not condemned for her sorcery, she was condemned for her murder. She was both caught and treated like any other criminal. 5x11 is fundamentally about people, about loyalty, about how our choices shape us. Mordred saw it as if it was about magic, and it was this misunderstanding which turned him away from Arthur for good.

Anyway. Silly spells (with references)!!

Merlin trips Arthur twice in the first episode.

Merlin successfully lures guards away from their posts using dice in the first episode. The second time he's shown using telekinesis on dice is when he's cheating in a gambling game against Arthur in 5x12.

Merlin uses barrels to distract guards on two separate occasions (2x04, 4x10). On the first one, he knocks them out.

Merlin slows time four times throughout the show (1x01, 1x07, 3x06). One of them is in order to observe Grundhilda's massive purple frog tongue.

Merlin uses magic to wind a rope discreetly up his pant leg and around his torso (2x08). This has a verbal incantation, which means someone either made a spell for this, which would be absurd, or Merlin is bastardising the hell out of someone's real actual sorcery that they wrote down formally.

Merlin once uses magic to put a princess to sleep and stuff her into a cupboard, which he then seals shut with magic as well (2x10).

Merlin uses magic to pull down people's pants. Twice. It works perfectly for his plans both times (3x07, 4x04).

Morgana also has an elderly disguise (5x04)!!

Sorry that they were mostly all about Merlin, everyone else in this show is so serious about magic. For other magic users who get silly with it, just rewatch Season 3 Episode 3: Goblin's Gold. I couldn't make up half the things that guy does.

I do have Fun/Vibes as a 'Purpose' category. It's populated mostly by Merlin, but also by the Goblin (3x03), Edwin Muirden (who lights a flame in the opening shot of the episode for the purpose of looking spooky and magic to the audience, and also who does some telekinesis just to show off to Merlin) (1x06), and Gilli (who activates his ring once in the opener of the episode purely for the benefit of signalling that it's magic to the audience) (3x11).

And no, I'm still not over the toad in s2e7: The Witchfinder, and I'm certainly not over the use of the Sidhe staff as a TAZER in s3e6: The Changeling (See the posts for Season 2 and Season 3 for elaboration on those).

Data

I am human, I have biases and make mistakes, I oversimplify things, I have a preference for viewing certain characters in certain ways. If you thought I was disingenuous, or wasn't clear enough, or have some other issue with this post, or otherwise are curious, the raw data I collected is now yours!!

Do with it as you wish. If you do end up using any of this for something, I would really appreciate a credit. This took me a very long time to put together.

Tally A list, with descriptions, of every spell in Merlin by episode.

Spreadsheets The numerical data in a variety of different tables and graphs.

Please note that I know there are mistakes in this dataset and I will be continuously working on fixing those. If you have need of the data, always refer back to the original post/document/spreadsheet. Reblogs do not update when previous posts are edited.

If you notice a mistake, even a minor one, please let me know!! And if you have any questions, I would be more than happy to answer them. Thank you for your time <3 I really, really appreciate it.

[oviraptoridae]

research & development is ongoing

since using jukebox for sampling material on albedo, i've been increasingly interested in ethically using ai as a tool to incorporate more into my own artwork. recently i've been experimenting with "commoncanvas", a stable diffusion model trained entirely on works in the creative commons. though i do not believe legality and ethics are equivalent, this provides me peace of mind that all of the training data was used consensually through the terms of the creative commons license. here's the paper on it for those who are curious! shoutout to @reachartwork for the inspiration & her informative posts about her process!

part 1: overview

i usually post finished works, so today i want to go more in depth & document the process of experimentation with a new medium. this is going to be a long and image-heavy post, most of it will be under the cut & i'll do my best to keep all the image descriptions concise.

for a point of reference, here is a digital collage i made a few weeks ago for the album i just released (shameless self promo), using photos from wikimedia commons and a render of a 3d model i made in blender:

and here are two images i made with the help of common canvas (though i did a lot of editing and post-processing, more on that process in a future post):

more about my process & findings under the cut, so this post doesn't get too long:

quick note for my setup: i am running this model locally on my own machine (rtx 3060, ubuntu 23.10), using the automatic1111 web ui. if you are on the same version of ubuntu as i am, note that you will probably have to build python 3.10.6 yourself (and be sure to use 'make altinstall' instead of 'make install' and change the line in the webui to use 'python3.10' instead of 'python3'. just mentioning this here because nobody else i could find had this exact problem and i had to figure it out myself)

part 2: initial exploration

all the images i'll be showing here are the raw outputs of the prompts given, with no retouching/regenerating/etc.

so: commoncanvas has 2 different types of models, the "C" and "NC" models, trained on their database of works under the CC Commercial and Non-Commercial licenses, respectively (i think the NC dataset also includes the commercial license works, but i may be wrong). the NC model is larger, but both have their unique strengths:

"a cat on the computer", "C" model

"a cat on the computer", "NC" model

they both take the same amount of time to generate (17 seconds for four 512x512 images on my 3060). if you're really looking for that early ai jank, go for the commercial model. one thing i really like about commoncanvas is that it's really good at reproducing the styles of photography i find most artistically compelling: photos taken by scientists and amateurs. (the following images will be described in the captions to avoid redundancy):

"grainy deep-sea rover photo of an octopus", "NC" model. note the motion blur on the marine snow, greenish lighting and harsh shadows here, like you see in photos taken by those rover submarines that scientists use to take photos of deep sea creatures (and less like ocean photography done for purely artistic reasons, which usually has better lighting and looks cleaner). the anatomy sucks, but the lighting and environment is perfect.

"beige computer on messy desk", "NC" model. the reflection of the flash on the screen, the reddish-brown wood, and the awkward angle and framing are all reminiscent of a photo taken by a forum user with a cheap digital camera in 2007.

so the noncommercial model is great for vernacular and scientific photography. what's the commercial model good for?

"blue dragon sitting on a stone by a river", "C" model. it's good for bad CGI dragons. whenever i request dragons of the commercial model, i either get things that look like photographs of toys/statues, or i get gamecube type CGI, and i love it.

here are two little green freaks i got while trying to refine a prompt to generate my fursona. (i never succeeded, and i forget the exact prompt i used). these look like spore creations and the background looks like a bryce render. i really don't know why there's so much bad cgi in the datasets and why the model loves going for cgi specifically for dragons, but it got me thinking...

"hollow tree in a magical forest, video game screenshot", "C" model

"knights in a dungeon, video game screenshot", "C" model

i love the dreamlike video game environments and strange CGI characters it produces-- it hits that specific era of video games that i grew up with super well.

part 3: use cases

if you've seen any of the visual art i've done to accompany my music projects, you know that i love making digital collages of surreal landscapes:

(this post is getting image heavy so i'll wrap up soon)

i'm interested in using this technology more, not as a replacement for my digital collage art, but along with it as just another tool in my toolbox. and of course...

... this isn't out of lack of skill to imagine or draw scifi/fantasy landscapes.

thank you for reading such a long post! i hope you got something out of this post; i think it's a good look into the "experimentation phase" of getting into a new medium. i'm not going into my post-processing / GIMP stuff in this post because it's already so long, but let me know if you want another post going into that!

good-faith discussion and questions are encouraged but i will disable comments if you don't behave yourselves. be kind to each other and keep it P.L.U.R.

[elysiansparadise]

Thoughts on Jupiter in the first house?

Jupiter in the 1st house

These people have the quality of having a jovial spirit and a wise mind, making it likely that when they are young they will seem older due to their level of maturity and wisdom but this without ever losing the charismatic touch in their character. Contrary to what is usually said, they can choose the side of introversion and need a lot of time alone; they are very introspective people who seek to understand themselves deeply. They seek to contribute positive things to the world and people can see them as teachers, guides, reliable, experienced and/or knowledgeable people. They are people with spiritual interests, they have a healthy level of confidence, with a deep inner world, their main interest may be self-knowledge, the development of their spirituality or feeding their inner world with data that leads them to become the person that they aspire to be. These natives, even if they are not aware, can easily spread positivity and joy to others, being able to put a smile on the faces of those they love the most. They have a lot of positive karma and can have many lucky moments throughout their lives compared to the average.

They have the brightest, biggest and most expressive smiles, they usually have very attractive bodies, toned legs or whose shape is attractive. It is common for them to be tall and have well-proportioned faces. They attract a lot of attention because they have the right level of mysticism and mysteries as well as a fun, curious and polite personality. They can seek and achieve in the process inspiring and motivating people. They tend to leave positive lessons in each person they meet and are usually memorable for these or other qualities. Generous, friendly and observant, they will never fear what seems different from them and will stand out for having an attitude that is open to understanding people and situations with which they do not usually deal. This placement gives them leadership skills, being people who not only boss around, but can unite a group of people and work with them for the common good. These natives are dreamers and deeply enjoy wandering between their future plans and visualizing themselves in scenarios that they would like to live.

Throughout life, they will stand out for their intellect and interest in social, spiritual and cultural topics. The majority tend to feel enchanted or attracted to various cultures, they may even have one in particular with which they feel a specific inclination. They can be people who, either because of their own issues or because of the environment in which they grew up, place very high expectations on themselves, want to achieve many things and become the person they want to be. Many times unrealistic or perfection expectations can be placed on them. From a very young age they form their own criteria and decide to live their lives based on the morals and criteria that they themselves develop. They are not influenceable people and they never limit themselves to just accepting the information or the first impression they have of something or someone. They are always open to inform themselves and learn more.

[0798f]

💞 — Sonnet 18.

RELATIONSHIP: Dr. Ratio x Reader

SUMMARY: There is little time to spend together and there was little to be hidden.

A/N: I just like the secret relationship trope.

The Intelligentsia Guild worked alongside the IPC very closely. Most IPC agents were familiar with a few Guild members and it was common for both factions to work closely together on projects. Typically, though, those at the top of the corporate ladders only dealt with those of similar status to them. They had little care for what the average office grunt was doing.

Today, Veritas Ratio found himself at Pier Point for a routine visit to the IPC headquarters. He was perhaps the highest of the corporate ladder when it came to the relationship between the IPC and Intelligentsia Guild. Most scholars have never met a Stoneheart, yet Ratio worked with multiple members side by side to accomplish important tasks. In fact, his visit here was solely to meet with Aventurine about an upcoming excursion, in the gambler’s words, they would have to take to make a deal. 

So it was strange that, instead of going straight to the ornate IPC conference room to be fashionably thirty minutes early for a meeting Aventurine would be late for anyways, Ratio made his way to the IPC archives. It was a cavernous room filled with any data log relevant to the IPC; everything from future business prospects to client information that the IPC promised they didn’t keep. Ratio much preferred the leatherbound paper of a physical book, so these archives weren’t of much use to him.

A lone archivist was responsible for organizing and sending information across the IPC’s channels. It was not an enviable job; it meant spending hours and hours alone in a windowless, sterile room doing thankless tasks. But that archivist did not seem to mind too much. They sat at a large desk with a comfortable looking chair and extra comfortable looking blanket. With nothing in their queue right now, they used their computer to listen to music and scroll through social media. In Ratio’s opinion, it was quite unprofessional for his taste, but for this thankless job that no one else was willing to do, he understood why they would allow such a relaxed environment.

Ratio approached the archivist’s desk and addressed them, “(Name).”

(Name) looked up from their screen and smiled. It was a reserved smile betrayed by the sparkling in their eyes. They stood up, carefully putting their blanket behind them on their seat, and walked around their desk to properly greet the Doctor. “Ah! Dr. Ratio. It’s good to see you. Is there something you need from the archives?”

Now, the Doctor was more reserved than most. Most of the time he wore a bust because he couldn’t bear to look at the faces of the uneducated and rarely smiled even without it. No one could read his expression and whatever he was thinking was beyond the understanding of any normal person. Certainly beyond the scope of a common IPC grunt.

“Yes,” he began. “I was looking for you.”

In the empty archives, there was no facade necessary for them to keep up. And Ratio is reserved and patient at all times so he allowed himself to lower his guard in this moment. Ratio moved forwards and placed his hands on (Name)’s waist, pressing his fingers against their side. He pressed a kiss to (Name)’s neck, then another, and another, moving upwards until he reached their jaw. The premise of status disappeared and (Name) savored his embrace, giggling with each kiss and turning to face him once he reached their jaw. Their arms found their way around Ratio’s neck and (Name) leaned forward to steal a rare kiss from the Doctor. It had been several months since the pair had seen each other in person, and while messages were a decent form of communication, it could never replace the pure euphoria of being in each other’s embrace.

Those moments, though, are often too short. The couple separated, only for (Name) to pull Ratio in for a hug. There would be no greater scandal than such a low level IPC agent fraternizing with Veritas Ratio of all people, but amongst the shelves of data they were just two regular people. (Name) clutched wordlessly onto Ratio, savoring the feeling of his body against theirs. Ratio pressed a kiss to the shell of their ear then their cheek, his lips never leaving their skin. 

Their time together was always too short, but that just meant each opportunity was special.

masterlists.

[reasonsforhope]

"Abby Allen has no problem with her neighbours peering over her luxuriant hedges to see what she is up to on her farm.

For years she has been carrying out ad hoc experiments with wildlife and farming techniques; in her lush Devon fields native cattle graze alongside 400-year-old hedgerows, with birds and butterflies enjoying the species-rich pasture.

Under the environmental land management scheme (ELMS), introduced by the government in 2021, those experiments were finally being funded. “We have a neighbour who has always been more of an intensive farmer,” she says, but he is now considering leaving fields unploughed to help the soil. “It genuinely is having such a huge impact in changing people’s mindsets who traditionally would never have thought about farming in this way.”

The new nature payments scheme followed the UK’s exit from the EU, when the government decided to scrap the common agricultural payments scheme, which gave a flat subsidy dependent on the number of acres a farmer managed. In its place came ELMS, which pays farmers for things such as planting hedges, sowing wildflowers for birds to feed on and leaving corners of their land wild for nature.

But these schemes are now at threat of defunding, as the Labour government has refused to commit to the £2.4bn a year spending pot put in place by the previous Conservative government. With spending tight and the chancellor, Rachel Reeves, cutting back on infrastructure and hinting at tax rises, a cut to the ELMS scheme may be on her list.

However, government data released last week found the schemes were working to tentatively bring nature back to England’s farmland. Butterflies, bees and bats are among the wildlife being boosted by ELMS, with birds among the chief beneficiaries, particularly ones that largely feed on invertebrates. An average of 25% more breeding birds were found in areas utilising the eco-friendly schemes.

...there are also farmers who welcome the schemes. Allen says the ELMS has helped her farm provide data and funds to expand and improve the good things they were doing for nature. “Some of the money available around things like soil testing and monitoring – instead of us going ‘we think these are the right things to do and providing these benefits,’ we can now measure it. The exciting thing now is there is money available to measure and monitor and kind of prove that you’re doing the right things. And so then you can find appropriate funding to do more of that.”

Allen, who is in the Nature Friendly Farming Network, manages a network of farms in England, most of which are using the ELMS. This includes chicken farms where the poultry spend their life outside rather than in sheds and other regenerative livestock businesses...

Mark Spencer was an environment minister until 2024 when he lost his seat, but now spends more time in the fields admiring the fruits of his and his family’s labour. He says that a few years of nature-friendly agriculture has restored lapwings and owls.

“On the farm, I haven’t seen lapwings in any number for what feels like a whole generation. You know, as a kid, when I was in my early teens, you’d see lapwings. We used to call them peewits. We’d see them all the time, and they sort of disappeared.

“But then, me and my neighbours changed the way we did cropping, left space in the fields for them to nest, and suddenly they returned. You need to have a piece of land where you’re not having mechanical machinery go over it on a regular basis, because otherwise you destroy the nest. We’ve also got baby owls in our owl box now for the first time in 15 years. They look mega, to be honest, these little owls, little balls of fluff. It is rewarding.”"

-via The Guardian, August 23, 2024

[lostyesterday]

I think most people agree that, of all the TNG major characters, Worf was the best possible one to bring into DS9. He fits the best into the DS9 cast, and it’s pretty hard to imagine fitting any other TNG character in at all as well. This made me think about the fact that, since all the 90’s Trek shows are set at approximately the same time, you could theoretically take almost any major character from any show and put them into another show. So I asked myself the question, which character from each 90’s Trek show would fit the best into each other show?

The best TNG character to be on Voyager: Easily Deanna Troi. I don’t think having a counselor onboard would genuinely fix the Voyager crew’s problems, but it would add an interesting layer, and we would get to see lots of disastrous counseling sessions. I also think Deanna could have particularly interesting interactions with B’Elanna and Seven, and I’d love to see her develop an unlikely friendship with Tuvok. The one major issue I can see is that there would be a bit of redundancy with Kes in terms of her empathic abilities, but at the same time, I think they could have an interesting dynamic.

The best DS9 character to be on TNG: Obviously Worf and O’Brien are discounted from consideration here. I’ll admit this is a hard one – the DS9 crew just would not fit very well on TNG. It also feels like cheating to choose Bashir because he had good chemistry with Data and Geordi in the crossover episode, so instead I’m going to pick Odo. I’m not sure how exactly the plot could be worked to make Odo’s presence on Enterprise make sense, but I think he would get along really well with Picard, and I think he and Data could have had interesting discussions. I also think Odo would slot interestingly into TNG’s typical moral dilemma episodes.

The best DS9 character to be on Voyager: Either Jadzia or Kira could be interesting. I think Jadzia would fit really naturally into the crew and could have filled the generally vacant main science officer spot. There would be interesting things to explore in her dynamics with basically every single main crew member, particularly Janeway and B’Elanna. Kira could be interesting in terms of how she related to the Maquis/Starfleet relationship, and I’d love to see her dynamic with Chakotay and B’Elanna. In general, I think both Jadzia and Kira would have some really interesting feelings about being stranded so far from the Alpha Quadrant.

The best Voyager character to be on TNG: Harry feels like he’d theoretically slot in the most naturally, but I think his role and personality would end up being too similar to Geordi. So, oddly enough, I think Tom might actually work the best in TNG. His backstory is based on that of a minor TNG character, and I think it would be interesting to see Tom work through (or not) his issues with Starfleet and his father in an environment that was not at all as far removed as Voyager was. He could have an interesting dynamic with Picard and Deanna, and maybe even Data and Geordi.

The best Voyager character to be on DS9: Chakotay would be interesting, since I might have liked an alternate Maquis storyline on DS9 that actually had one of them as a major character. What would happen if Sisko was actually forced to work with a Maquis leader for some reason, and what if they actually ended up finding common ground and respecting each other? I’m thinking more along the lines of Sisko’s dynamic with Cal Hudson in the Maquis two-parter rather than his dynamic with Eddington. Again, I think Chakotay and Kira could have a really interesting dynamic as well.

[girlactionfigure]

“I feel I no longer belong in 🇨🇦 and may need to flee.”

A new survey from the Jewish Medical Association of Ontario reveals a devastating rise in antisemitism targeting Jewish doctors and healthcare workers. The data is shocking, and the consequences could be catastrophic.

🧵:

2/ Since October 7, antisemitism in healthcare settings has skyrocketed:

•29% of Jewish medical professionals report it in their communities.

•39% in hospitals.

•43% in academic settings.

Before October 7, only 1% reported severe antisemitism. 

3/ The survey found 31% of Jewish doctors in Ontario are considering leaving the country.

Doctors are being forced out by a hostile environment where their Jewish identity makes them targets.

This isn’t just a Jewish issue—it’s a healthcare crisis. 

4/ The survey of over 1,000 Jewish healthcare professionals across Canada reveals staggering numbers:

•73% of Jewish doctors in Ontario report antisemitism in academic spaces.

•60% in hospitals.

•Over 80% face antisemitism at work overall. 

5/ The most common sources of antisemitism?

•Organizational policies (57%)

•Organizational communications (55%)

•Colleagues (53%)

This isn’t random—it’s systemic, embedded in the very institutions meant to support them. 

6/ Doctors shared heartbreaking stories:

“I fear my colleagues’ reaction to my name and identity. I feel I can no longer admit who I am.”

Another said:

“I feel I no longer belong in Canada.”

This is the daily reality for Jewish healthcare professionals. 

7/ Dr. Ayelet Kuper, Chair of the Jewish Medical Association of Ontario, warned:

“This is a crisis for all people in Ontario, not just Jewish doctors. If we don’t address this, we risk losing a generation of physicians, educators, and researchers.” 

8/ Even unions are failing Jewish healthcare workers. One occupational therapist said:

“Union members attend protests condoning terrorism, chanting dangerous slogans, and making my workplace unsafe.”

The environment for Jewish professionals is hostile and dangerous. 

9/ As Dr. Sam Silver said:

“I work with students navigating a hostile environment where their identity as Jews makes them targets of hate. This cannot continue.”

Antisemitism is pushing doctors out of Ontario, and the healthcare system will pay the price. 

10/ The survey is clear: antisemitism in healthcare impacts patient care, erodes workplace integrity, and threatens the entire system.

Jewish doctors are being targeted, but the consequences will affect every Canadian.

11/ This is a crisis that cannot be ignored. We must demand accountability from institutions, protect Jewish healthcare workers, and fight antisemitism at every level.

Antisemitism has no place in Canada—or anywhere. 

Full story:

Jewish doctors consider fleeing Canada amid rising rates of antisemitism in their profession

'Union members have been attending protests that condone terrorism, and I’ve witnessed colleagues showing up to these protests with union flags, chanting dangerous slogans'

LINK

Antisemitism in Canadian med schools, hospitals skyrocketed after Oct. 7 attacks: JMAO

In a survey conducted by the Jewish Medical Association of Ontario, 80% of Jewish physicians said they face antisemitism at work

LINK

@Joe_Roberts01