#excel large formula

[quantummindclassicalheart]

I ran a chi-squared test on this (ignoring the see results option) and came up with a test statistic of 4.96 and 2 degrees of freedom. With p=0.08, we cannot reject the null hypothesis.

I think Tumblr users just really like spreadsheets.

Because this came up in my life recently, a question:

To be clear I mean a spreadsheet in any program (Excel, Sheets, Notion) and for any reason EXCEPT for it being required of you. It could be cataloging stuff you own, categorizing characters in a show you like, etc. But it has to be something you chose to do without being paid or graded for it

[bunny-jpeg]

Ooooo can I grab a spice pie a Eton mess with a coffee and hard lemonade please and thank you bunny 😊

With max verstappen

bakery menu!

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu (yay), there's still tons of things to order and i'd love for you have a little slice from the bakery! thank you for any prompts sent and especially to @e-verstappen for this lovely prompt! i don't usually get a lot of spice pie & eton mess orders so this was fun!! i hope you enjoy!! <3

spice pie ("i didn't know it was possible to be a liar and a slut.") + eton mess ("be careful. your breath smells like cum.") + coffee (rivals au) + hard lemonade (possessive behavior)

cw: smut/pwp, rivals au, possessive behavior, dirty talk/degrading language, mean!max, ferrari driver!reader, jos jumpscare, oral sex (reader receives), couch sex, unprotected sex

this had a happen in groups of three within a similar time frame. and with max, these three things sent the possessive driver off the edge. you had been deluding yourself into believing that these encounters with him were simple little flings.

you didn't realize that max verstappen had been going around the paddock telling people that you were together and to get their noses out of you. regardless, things happened in threes

first, it was practice. for the singapore grand prix, you shoved max out of first position and he scrambled only being able to cling onto fifth. it didn't help that jos had come by to see how the weekend was going to shape up. secondly, the same jos verstappen congratulated you on the excellent job maintaining a strong presence on the track. what made max's mouth twitch as he watched was that his father was being genuine to you. and thirdly, while you and max were in his hotel the night before the race, both nursing a beer. he caught a glimpse of you on raya.

and that just set the driver off. beer can tumbled on the floor, and his hands around your wrist. your phone threatening to meet the beer can. your eyes gazed into his with concern marking your features.

"what the fuc-"

"i didn't know it was possible to be a liar and a slut." his words were biting.

"excuse me!"

"raya? really? you sit there all pretty on the track. getting all the praise, and the first place in the qualifiers. then you come with me and now you're trying to find other men to fuck." his voice was venomous.

you got out of his grasp and gave him a shove off of you on the couch, "this is stress relief, asshole." then shifted in your seat as you put your phone to the side. you hated that when he got like that, it turned you on, "and i barely got any praise from anyone besides me team. it was almost too close to call."

his hand was on your thigh and his lips at your neck. he said, "stress relief?" his breathing was hot against your neck, "god, you're stupid." his large hands were on your hips as he went after your neck once more.

this time were was little resistance from you. you couldn't help it, after all this time with him. he still made your brain turn into soup.

"no, no. this is far from casual. the trips, the gifts, our time together. you knew deep down that you're only on raya to kill time. because you don't want to admit that you already found your husband."

you took him by the back of the neck and looked into his gaze. you swallowed, "you're a possessive fuck, max."

he raised his eyebrows at you, "i have to. because these men don't know when a woman is taken." before he crashed his lips against yours. you wrapped his arms around his broad shoulders.

you hated it. he was your rival, you stood on opposing ends. you fought tooth and nail on the track, your entire career had been snapping your fangs at one another. so to be stripped for vulnerable felt so different. it was like max could see through it all. whatever face you've given to the press.

you hated more that it was the same face you put on raya. the confident woman of formula one. but deep down, you yearned to be loved by someone. someone who was as unbalanced as you. thus you collided with max as he got between your legs and started to get you out of the sweatpants (that he owned) you were wearing. your panties went with it.

"i need to remind you that you are mine, got it? i need that app deleted when i'm done with you. better yet, delete the entire account and apologize to the company for wasting their time with you on it... because you weren't finding prince charming on it." then went between your legs and licked across your cunt which made you tense up.

his mouth on you was hot and it made you heated all over. damn max verstappen damn him, and when his tongue came out you were gripping onto his short almost-blond hair. you felt the skip in your chest as he rubbed his nose up against your clit.

if you could, you'd be hitting him in the head in frustration. he drover you insane as much as you fell in love with him. a push and pull of desires as he orally pleasured you. your toes curled in the socks you wore (which was also stolen from him).

his tongue continued to lap against your soaked hole and his nose nudged up against your achy clit. it was a stimulated hell in the best was possible. it made you feel so hot that you eventually took your t-shirt off and laid there in just socks and your bra.

while it felt amazing, he didn't quite get you to climax, when he eventually came up for air. he looked up at you with those blue eyes of his. there was a heated lust in them as he got up from his spot on the couch and was on you once more. he was heavily breathing, as were you.

"be careful. your breath smells like cum." you said softly as you covered his mouth with your hand for a moment before he went in for a searing kiss. first on your palm before he pulled it away and went for your lips.

you whined against the kiss and gripped onto the back of his shirt. your nails dug into the soft fabric, threatening to rip it off his shoulders. his clothed, hard cock rubbed against your achy cunt.

"i want you." you sighed, "i hate that you're in my head."

he chuckled, "i wouldn't want to be anywhere else." he got his cock out of his pants and rubbed it against you for a few moments before he sank inside of you. his hands braced on the back of the couch as he got inside of you as far as he could go. which was far enough because you could already feel him bruising your poor cunt.

you shuddered, your nipples grew hard as you held onto his strong shoulders. he always made you feel so good, especially when those soft lips of his were pressed against yours. it was because of you that he learned what lip balm was and didn't gross any of his dates out. now it benefited you as he rocked his cock up into you.

fucking on the couch like two desperate animals. but desperation didn't lead to long lasting sessions of intimacy. you hated that max verstappen lived in your head rent free, devouring any attempts to meet anyone else. why meet anyone else when you have max? while you bloomed under his attention, you hated that you had little choice in the matter. he had sunk his claws into you long ago. and now you were lazily making out with him.

you came quickly, like a strike of lightning through your body. you moaned into the kiss and arched your back off the couch as he continued to fuck you with a high intensity. your toes curled and your nails dug into his shoulders more.

he panted heavily, "that's good. a good little girl. you know exactly how to get me going." he groaned as he continued to fuck you with heavy thrusts and it made you feel hot all over as his cock pressed into the deepest parts of you. your brain felt over stimulated and the kisses got harder.

you needed him, it wasn't a want any long. he was what was pulling at your chest as he gave a few more thrusts before he finished inside of you with a heated groan against your lips. which made you pant heavily.

you relaxed against the covers and panted heavily. you felt a drum of heat in your head as you looked at him. he was loomed over you for a moment as he tried to compose himself.

you let out a little whimper and it made max's cock jump while still in you.

"now do you get it? you're mine." he said as he pulled out and then grabbed your face for a kiss. you moaned a little into the kiss and when he pulled away, "right?"

you looked at him a little blissed out, your tongue couldn't find the words. but that didn't mind max too much, he could see it in your eyes. his little rival wanted him. he gave you another kiss before he got a hold of you. he could get a second round out of you in the bedroom before he fucked all sense out of you. <3

[sarahscribbles]

𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐱

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐀 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝. 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐱

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐚𝐝 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟐.𝟔𝐤

𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐚𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The vial slips from between your fingertips just as you’re about to finally seal the top. Almost in slow motion it falls to the workbench below, shattering with a mockingly musical smash and sending tiny shards of glass scattering in a million different directions. 

For a second, all you can do is stare silently at the pale blue liquid pooling on the surface, but a steady stream of curses is quickly unleashed as you move frantically to save the detailed notes spread out around you. You gather them to your chest like a mother would gather her children, and drop them on the bench behind with an irritated, angry groan. 

An entire days worth of work ruined because you couldn’t do something as simple as hold onto a vial. 

Some scientist you are. 

From the corner of your eye you see James raise his head. When you told him you’d be alone in the lab all day doing research for MONARCH he insisted on joining you, even in spite of your protestations that he’d be bored out of his skull watching you work. 

“It’s not exciting work,” you had told him with a smile. “It’s equations and formulas and mixing chemicals. You’d hate it.”

James had only given you that soft smile that he knew was your weakness. “I barely see you enough as it is, love. I won’t make a sound. Scouts honour.”

It’s impossible to deny him anything, especially when he looks at you like you hung the moon, and so he’s sat quietly at an empty bench reading a two week old newspaper while you work. 

His Scout’s honour lasted roughly thirty minutes. Naturally curious, he had followed you around the lab like a child all morning, asking detailed questions about every step of your process. But, if you’re being very honest, it’s been nice to have him there to alleviate some of the loneliness of your work. 

He’s been banished to the other side of the lab for the last half hour to allow you to concentrate, but you can feel him watching you as you begin to clear the mess from your workbench, and you can almost hear the wheels in his head turning as to whether he should approach or leave you be. 

Ultimately, it’s the former that wins. 

There’s a quiet rustle as he folds the newspaper up neatly and places it exactly where he found it. It attracts your gaze and you watch him unfold from the bench like an elegant housecat, hesitating for only half a second before he closes the short distance between you both in several large steps. 

James loops his arms easily around your waist and pulls you back against his chest. His closeness brings with it the clean scent of his soap and the subtle pine of his shaving cream - that alone is almost enough to ground you. “You’re tired, love,” he says softly. “And you’ve barely left this lab all week. You’re going to exhaust that brilliant mind unless you take a break.”

His lips then press firmly to your temple. It’s his favoured soothing gesture and it never fails, not even when the inside of your mind feels like a hamster on a wheel. Slowly, the rolling wave of rage swirling inside you begins to quiet until there’s nothing but the feel of James’ arms wrapped around your waist. 

You hate how good he is at that. 

“This brilliant mind can’t take a break,” you reply tiredly, suddenly feeling all the exhaustion of the week settle over you. “I’ve got a deadline biting at my ass that can’t be pushed any further. There’s no time to switch off and have a pina colada.” 

James hums in your ear, immediately awakening a trail of goosebumps along your arms. “You did an excellent job at switching off last night.”

The tip of his nose nudges your jaw. It’s so simple, so small, but you curse the man to hell and back. 

Of course he’s going to bring up the night before when you had spent hours tangled beneath the sheets, bracketing his broad body between your shaking thighs while your name was a prayer on his lips. Of course he’s going to make you think of the way his lips had thoroughly worshipped every inch of your body, and how he’d had to cover your mouth to silence your cries lest you wake the entire building.  

Of course he’s going to make you think of the pleasure he’s capable of ripping from your body, because he knows you well enough to know that it’s a foolproof way to distract you.

You say nothing as he continues to trail lazy, haphazard kisses along the back of your neck and across your shoulder. The notes you saved only a few minutes earlier stare back at you from the workbench, and you know you should get back to the deadline at hand, but how can you be expected to focus when James is twisted around you like a viper?

And surely a few seconds of distraction isn’t going to cost you your career. 

“I should tell you to piss off and let me work,” you say, biting back a sigh when James bites gently at your earlobe, “but some stress relief would be really nice right now.”

James laughs in your ear, soft and low and genuinely amused, but his fingers are already dipping beneath the hem of your shirt to dance across your bare skin. “Is that all I am to you? Stress relief?”

You hope he knows he’s anything but. 

James Conrad is the very reason you’re standing in this lab because he believed in your abilities when you didn’t even believe in them yourself. He’s the person you want to share every miniscule detail of your life with no matter how ridiculous. He’s the first person you look for in a room, and his are the only lips you want to kiss at the end of the day. 

He’s the love of your life, and you pray that he never reduces himself to merely being the person who distracts you from the stress of your job. 

Even though he’s very, very good at it.              

His fingertips trace a familiar path along your abdomen, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as your entire body responds instantly to his touch. Those practiced fingers then slip easily inside your bra to twist your nipples, as though emphasising his displeasure, but it only pulls a satisfied smile across your face. 

“You’re the one who said I needed to take a break and then offered yourself up. What would you call it?” you tease him. 

There’s another twist of your nipples, enough to make you gasp, but the pads of his thumbs are quick to soothe. “I’d call you an impudent brat,” he replies, beginning to trail a lazy path of kisses along the column of your throat.           

You grin wider and tilt your head onto your shoulder, offering him as much of you as you can. “We established that a long time ago, Captain. You’re going to have to try harder than that.”

“Brat,” he says again with a smile in his voice. “But I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

James presses a final kiss to the juncture of your neck and shoulder, so gentle and so chaste that your heart skips in your chest, and you’re once again left marvelling at the emotions that this man can awaken in you. In the space of five minutes he’s made you feel calm, desired, playful, and infatuated, and, not for the first time, you think about how stupidly lucky you are to call him yours. 

Your jungle man, as you’ve taken to calling him.

Much too soon he untangles his weight from around you, but you feel two firm hands come to rest on your hips. They give you a squeeze and, before you can complain at the sudden coldness his absence brings, James is quickly spinning you around to pin you back against the workbench. His grip tightens only a fraction, as though he’s labouring under some absurd belief that you might bolt, but then one hand rises from your hip to cup your cheek. His touch is so familiar to you that you can’t help but lean into it, even more so with the almost reverential way his thumb strokes your skin. 

“How many cups of coffee have you had today?” he asks, blue eyes boring into you. 

You hesitate for only a heartbeat. “Three,” you reply, but James is quick to cock an eyebrow. “Four.” 

He sighs softly and pulls you close enough to press a kiss to your forehead. “Oblivious girl,” he teases quietly. “I know how important this project is to you, and I know that it requires a great deal of your time and energy, but you have exhausted yourself, love.”

There’s a brief moment of nothing, then James is taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “This brilliant mind is done for today. Understand?”

His voice is still velvet soft, but there’s no mistaking that this is a command he expects you to obey. Even so, the urge to be a brat rises like a storm inside you because you know how much he enjoys the game, but another larger part of you is already folding like a house of cards.

How can you not with the devastating promise that’s glittering in those blue eyes?

You nod quickly in response, eager to experience his unique form of stress relief. “Yes, Captain.”

James tilts his head to the side, fixing you with a gaze that’s full of fond exasperation. “Careful, my sweet girl, or you might bite off more than you can handle.” 

“Maybe tomorrow when you have more time to teach me a lesson,” you reply with a smirk. 

James laughs at your wit, smiling so wide that you can see the soft crinkles that form at the corners of his eyes. “Reckless. Utterly reckless,” he replies softly, and the next thing you know is his lips on yours. 

James kisses you slowly and so deeply that it takes your breath away. You melt into him easily, letting him coax your arms around his shoulders in time with a large hand pressing against the small of your back to clamp you against his chest. A moan flutters from your mouth to his as you grip him like a vice, digging your fingers greedily into the defined muscles of his back while he kisses you like you’re his only source of oxygen.

You feel dizzy, and it’s as good a distraction as any, but you realise it’s nothing more than a precursor when his lips eventually leave yours and he folds to his knees before you. 

Still drunk on the taste of his kiss, you can only watch as he makes himself comfortable on the unforgiving laboratory floor. He looks sinfully perfect kneeling in front of you, and when you see the raw desire that’s swirling in those pretty blue eyes, it almost has you fold. 

“If it’s stress relief you want, love,” James murmurs, sliding his hands underneath the hem of your skirt until it bunches at your hips, “then I’m only too happy to provide.” 

Cool air winds its way around your thighs, but James’ lips are quick to dispel the chill. He teases a slow path along your right thigh while his thumb traces nonsensical patterns on the other, and both combined raise a molten fire of arousal to life in the pit of your stomach. 

Each press of his warm lips to your flushed skin makes your cunt pulse with need, and it doesn’t take long before a desperate whimper floats from your lips. You feel James smirk then suck a particularly rough bruise into the top of your thigh. 

“Jesus Christ,” you moan shamelessly, letting an eager hand fall to twist into his hair.

You wait expectantly for him to climb higher, but, much to your irritation, he pulls back to lift his eyes to yours, though not before curling lazy fingers around the waistband of your underwear. 

“Well, don’t -,” you begin, only to be immediately silenced by James ripping away the flimsy material of your underwear. 

“Would you like to continue?” he asks, already placing two hands on your thighs to coax them apart.

You shake your head. “N-no. Not important.” 

“My good girl,” James praises you with another kiss to your lower stomach. “I expect my contributions to be noted in your final report,” he says with such an air of seriousness that you can’t help but laugh outright. 

“A footnote in my Nobel Prize acceptance speech is the best I can offer,” you reply. 

“Beautiful, brilliant, and remarkably humble. Any wonder I adore you,” he teases back, and finally, finally, you feel his mouth on your cunt. 

He feels better every single time, you can’t help but think. He’s a man who takes pleasure in giving, and nowhere does that shine through more than when he’s between your thighs. His tongue caresses your cunt like a long lost lover, ensuring that no part of you is left neglected. 

“James…fuck.” They’re the only words you’re capable of saying as he pays particular attention to your clit.

He groans low in his throat and the vibrations are enough to have you slamming your hand back on the bench behind to keep yourself steady. You chance a glance down at the devil between your legs, and your eyes immediately lock with his. You watch as he pleasures you, watch as he curls his hands around your hips to pull you closer to his mouth, then closes his eyes at the taste of you.

You know you aren’t going to last long. 

A storm of pleasure is quickly rising in your core, swirling faster and faster with each second James’ tongue remains buried in your cunt. Your hand curls like a vice in his hair to guide him and he obediently follows. Those strong hands squeeze your hips - a silent request - and you quickly flick your eyes back down to his. 

“I know…I know. Just keep going…please, James,” you plead. You’re climbing higher up the ascent and ready to topple, so it’s only too easy to grant him his one request. 

Let him watch you fall. 

His blue eyes are boring into you, not willing to risk even a second of you falling apart, and when you catch a glance of your own arousal coating his upper lip, you know you’re gone. 

Your orgasm rips through you so violently that you lose the ability to breathe, to form thoughts, to do anything but keep your eyes on James. But when you finally do find your voice, James’ name is imprinted into the very foundations of the laboratory. He fucks you through it all, until you’re a quivering, boneless wreck above him shaking through the aftershocks. 

You’re still panting when he finally pulls back, unable to do anything but watch mutely as he pulls your skirt back into place and gets to his feet. Instantly, he’s gathering you in his arms and holding you against his chest, letting one hand run slowly along the length of your back. 

“Better?” he asks, pulling away just enough to catch your chin between his fingers. 

You nod slowly. “Uh huh, but I can’t remember why I needed to feel better.”

James laughs and presses a kiss to your forehead. “My poor girl. Why don’t I take you home so you can lie down?” 

You let him loop an arm around your waist and pull you against his side. “I feel like there might be a double meaning to that.” 

“There is,” James replies, not missing a beat. 

“Then take me home, Captain.”

[keykoso]

Formula 1 drivers as High School Teachers

Part 2 of my yearbook series for my f1 spiderman au.

The School Teachers and Staff

Sebastian Vettel: His office is decorated full of random vintage posters, model cars and plants. If a students comes to him he tells a lot of funny and random side stories to calm them down. Always brings homemade baked goods because that's how his mother raised him. Runs the environmental club and organizes clean-up days and tree planting events so that students never forget why it is important to look out for or planet.

Always wears slightly rumpled button-down shirts and bikes to school everyday. Students love him and feel safe with him. They call him sunshine or the bee keeper. In the staff room Seb drinks herbal tea and has a reusable bamboo cup while Carlos shows up with a large coffee and a protein bar. Also Carlos constantly borrows Seb’s pens and never returns them, which has led to a very passive-aggressive post-it note war.

Carlos Sainz: If you know that one photo of Carlos with his nose piercing, you know what I'm talking about. Also works with Sebastian helping out with the kids, because he believes that teachers can shape kids lives. He also takes part in the student council, he’s the advisor who actually cares. Helps the students organize dances, fundraisers, and spirit weeks. Loves planning charity soccer tournaments through the Student Council and is extremely competitive when playing against students. As the Spanish teacher he doesn't understand what Lando is doing in his class because Lando absolutely sucks at it. Carlos has a stick rule - no English during his lesson — he gets offended if you slip up "¿Inglés? ¡No, por favor!"

Toto Wolff: The school principal, drives a mercedes and has a designated parking spot that no one dears to use. One unfortunate kid parked his car at Totos sport and got called to the principals office, after that everyone knew what would happen if you dare to poke the bear. Nobody knows if Kimi is his son of what but everyone knows that Toto has a soft spot for him and that Kimi can get away with a lot of things.

Well dressed always a tailored suit, never a hair out of place. Introduced a "Student Performance Board" where achievements — academic, sports, arts — are celebrated publicly. The teachers have an ongoing inside joke where they fake a "team radio" in staff meetings "Toto, we can't keep doing these Monday staff meetings." Has a very specific "angry walk" down the hallway — when students hear his fast, heavy footsteps, they immediately sit up straighter.

George Russell: Absolutely loves his job. Students avoid him at all cost. If he sees Lando carrying his skateboard shouts to ���keep that skateboard off the ground”. Loves organizing assemblies and drills. Once a month makes a powerpoint presentations about school safety, everyone hates that time of the month. Students sometimes make bingo cards for "phrases George will definitely say at the next assembly," like: "Punctuality is key to success!" and "Excellence is a habit!". George acts like Toto’s right-hand man, trying to be super serious, but Seb and Carlos constantly mess with him — switching his clipboard with joke notes or sneaking memes into his official emails.

Alex Albon: neighbors with George, always getting a ride to school from him. Has way too many pets, the students are lost how everyone off his pets fit in his house. Always carries a lint roller with him because of the pet hair. He likes to wear sneakers, comfy sweaters and his sleeves always pushed up. Sometimes Alex likes to wears silly socks with ducks or pizza on them. Loves making bad math puns "Without geometry, life is pointless." cue groans. George tries to get Alex to make math club more intense but Alex’s version of "training" is math games and pizza nights. Secretly keeps a wall of anonymous student thank-you notes inside his desk drawer for days he feels stressed.

Daniel Ricciardo: Daniel is the PE teacher, he is the most fun teacher. Always joking around and pranking other students. Somehow has way too much energy at 8:00 AM and confuses everyone "Did you...have like 3 Red Bulls, Mr. Ricciardo??". Wears "motivational" shirts like "Pain Now, Pizza Later" or "Sprint Now, Complain Later."

If a kid falls dramatically during an activity, he also falls dramatically on purpose to make them laugh and not feel embarrassed. Keeps an eye out for the kids who aren’t super athletic and makes sure they feel included, gives them "special missions" like being the ultimate referee or official team hype-person. Toto thinks Daniel’s classes are "too chaotic" but can’t deny the students LOVE him. George once tried to join a PE class to "show proper athletic form" and immediately lost a footrace to a 7th grader. Daniel never lets him forget it.

A bit of backstory back in his days he was a promising boxing star however because of an injury he missed out on a final competition his coach Horner was absolutely devastated. Horner and Daniel had a falling out and they parted their ways. Later Daniel became a teacher and he noticed Max. Max is a complexed teen, anger issues and other problems. Because of that Daniel recommended boxing to let out all off that builded up frustration. After some time Daniel noticed that Max is natural and gave Horners number. Although Daniel doesn't speak to Horner, he knows that Max would reach higher achievements at under Horners strict training.

Lewis Hamilton: Walks into class every day like he's on a red carpet, wearing the sharpest, trendiest fits — streetwear meets academia. Schools fashion icon. you can spot him a mile away with his colorfull outfits. Students literally wait to see what he's wearing each day. "Mr. Hamilton’s fit check coming in 3...2...1..."

Thinks outside the box — instead of boring book reports, he has students make podcasts, spoken word pieces, or music playlists inspired by the books. Runs open-mic poetry nights at school where he sometimes reads too and everyone loses their minds because he's SO good. Writes the most thoughtful comments on essays.

Seb and Lewis occasionally team up for "Social Justice Week" — inspiring students to think big and take action.

Daniel once pranked Lewis by replacing his designer notebook with a SpongeBob one. Lewis actually used it proudly

One time somebody put an onion on his desk and he couldn't start the lesson so Oscar removed it. He was very great full for the help. Because no one came forward the whole class got detention. Has beef with the school principal Toto, the students are lost why that is, Lewis never clarified why that is.

Fernando Alonso: Dr. Octopus of my au, the mad scientist that started okay but over time his obsession with science made him go mad. Fernando suspects that Oscar is Spiderman. However, to get closer to Oscar he makes Lando work for his lab. Lando takes that opportunity because he needs the extra curricular activitie to pass his Science exam. Alonso gives off chill teacher vibes. If there is a school fight he will be sipping tea and looking at the kids from his classroom. Unbothered queen.

Pierre Gasly: some clarification, Pierre went to Turkey to get a hair transplant because he was going bald at the age of 29 years old. The sassy queen. If the students are talking about some tea he will pause his lesson to listen to them. The students know this and always do it intentionally. Constantly says, "Come on, it’s easy!" even when it's definitely not. Runs the French Club, where 70% of the time is just watching French movies and laughing at his own dramatic commentary.

Nico Hulkenbern and Kevin Magnussent: pretty much self explanatory all the facts are written down, don't have anything more to add.

[talenlee]

Primaries, Secondaries, Structure, and 4e DnD

Talking about Fourth Edition Dungeons & Dragons is challenging at times because I feel like I’m always coming at things from a preemptive crouch. My first draft of this started out describing a problem that people criticized, but realistically speaking, that was 10 years ago and it doesn’t really matter what people think about it now, especially because fundamentally it isn’t an incorrect thing to have noticed.

What I’m going to talk about here is structural form and it’s a thing that 4e has throughout. Honestly, you could make a reasonable model of the development of Dungeons & Dragons throughou

One of the areas where I would say that fourth edition really excels as a tabletop RPG is that its structure is rock solid. It’s not a game with tons of tables in it because most things that needed tables were instead handled by formulas and sometimes those formulas were very simple. This does make it sort of the anti-Rolemaster where, broadly speaking, you are managing a very small amount of information and the game doesn’t do a lot to generate things for you. This structure does mean that there are reliable ways that players can approach information with expectations and assumptions about how the game does work.

To be clear, I like this. It is not necessarily the best way for any game to be, but 4e is an enormous game that relies on its system being modular, familiar, and exclusionary. You know how the game works in a set of fundamental structures, and then you work out from that centre of generalities to your specifics. You don’t need to know how Barbarians work if you’re not playing one, but the fact that Barbarians work like how Wardens work like how Fighters work means that when you do pick up any of the Barbarian pieces, they are pretty familiar. This approach is a form of structuralism, and it’s really useful for making a big complicated thing handleable. Rather than having four or five versions of the same thing (like Spellcasting in 3rd edition), you can have a uniform structure that everyone recognises.

One example of a structural design in 4E is the way the game handles Primary and Secondary Stat needs for each class.

Real quick for anyone not familiar, in most of 4E’s class design, characters were making attack rolls against defenses. There weren’t any saving throws against magical spells being flung around, and for the most part enemies didn’t have a lot of opportunities to avoid things beyond specialized layered defenses like ending stuns or dazes early. You had your Armour Class, your Fortitude Defense, your Reflex Defense, and your Will Defense. This design puts agency on the actor rather than defense posture on the target, and since players are the ones enacting the things the players want, that means the die rolls that matter are the ones they make.

Now, you may not like this, especially if you like fudging die rolls like some kind of a coward I guess, but the point is for now, the fundamental structure of classes in 4E was you were powers were making attack rolls against defenses. Because of that, everyone needed to be good at making attack rolls. This was a break from third edition where it was pretty much expected that attack rolls were only for a very small set of things that were considered attacks (and which were, largely, not very good). If you were a wizard, you could build the whole character as if you never had to make an attack roll. You could, there were spells that did it, but you didn’t have to. There was no inherent assumption wizards would be good at attacking. You would be very likely expecting to meet characters that didn’t have a good attack roll.

A complaint about this design is that because everyone is making attacks, characters all feel the same. This is a reasonable complaint that if you ignore all the things that aren’t making attacks, everyone is only ever making attacks. It is true that this made 4E a game where everyone wanted to be good at connecting and therefore, everyone wanted stats that made you best at hitting. That meant that Wizards all wanted Intelligence, the stat that made you better at hitting with Wizard powers, and Fighters and Barbarians all wanted a good Strength stat because that’s how Fighters and Barbarians hit things more often.

This was, again, a complaint: The system made it so that wizards wanted high Intelligence, and Fighters and Barbarians wanted high Strength. It’s true that if you don’t like this result that this is a reasonable criticism, that this is a thing the game encourages. It’s not a criticism I much care about, mind you.

“Doesn’t this mean every member of a class will have similar stats, and naturally gravitate towards the same best powers?” you might wonder, and no! No, they solved this problem through Secondary stats. Powers came in two flavours; one, powers that only cared about your primary stat, and they were usually pretty decent, solid 8/10 kind of things. But then there were powers that could have some benefit based on your other choices, like a Pact or a Boon or a Style, and those things looked at a stat of yours that was very deliberately not the stat used to make the attack roll. These were commonly referred to as your ‘rider’ abilities, and therefore, that stat effect was the rider on the main ability.

For example, Dishearten was an attack that used Intelligence to hit, dealt damage based on Intelligence, but the penalty it could impose on an enemy’s to-hit was based on your Charisma. To that end, if you did want this power, you might want a good Charisma as well, or, if you already wanted a character with a high Charisma, you might pick this kind of power to reward that build.

There’s another structure that lives parallel here. It’s not as common, but it’s still there; there were some classes that had one secondary stat for their powers, but had two different primary stats for their powers. That meant that the class might approach hitting with stats like Wisdom or Strength, but the followup to that hitting was always going to be (for example) Charisma. This meant that there was a common thread across all members of that class, but it was never their best thing; all Clerics had some people skills, but they might be a holy smiting, mace-swinging Cleric who had people skills, or a laser beam blasting Cleric who had people skills.

4E clerics were so cool.

The other classes that did this in the Player’s Handbook were the Warlock (Charisma and Constitution) and the Paladin (Charisma and Strength). The Warlock was a bit of an orphan child at the best of times, but the Paladin was so well serviced and ate so well that it wound up with multiple fully-fledged ‘standard package’ builds you could pursue with plenty of feat support under the names of Straladin (Strength Paladin), Chaladin (Charisma Paladin) or Baladin (Balanced Paladin). The Ranger also had the opportunity to be a Strength-based or Dexterity-based attacker, though the powers were mostly all the same powers, with ‘Strength or Dexterity vs AC’ kind of attack rolls.

Sometimes for some classes that weren’t super well developed, this meant that you effectively had one primary stat and two secondary stats. There aren’t any I can find that only have one secondary stat, even the most malnourished classes I found like the Vampire have two, and some classes like the Fighter and the Warden seem to have almost every possible stat supported as a secondary stat. Your best stat was probably going to be the one that you used to hit with and your second best stat was going to be the one that gave you secondary effects you liked, which meant that most of the characters in a particular form would have similar stats and probably express a similar-ish character. If you were a wizard who liked moving things around, you probably were very intelligent and pretty wise because those were the two stats you wanted the most.

Now this does create variety within a class, but you can probably just complain it kicks the can down the road. After all, if you’re playing a Bard, are you the Charisma-Intelligence Bard, the Charisma-Wisdom Bard, or the best Bard? It’s still narrowing options.

Thing is, to me, complaining about this seems dumb when I point out the Fighter. Because everyone seems to think it’s okay that all fighters are strong and hit things hard, because that’s what being a Fighter is. Suddenly that is okay when we’re talking about limiting the options of the poor Fighter, who had people back in 4e complaining their builds were too good, too interesting, and they did too much cool stuff, when the players would much rather than two combat options, have one.

Oh and fourh the May be with you or whatever.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

[rainybubbles]

COD men and civilian jobs

I was wondering for you, what would COD men do if they had a civilian job?

Please share your opinionnnn !!!

So :

-I imagine Soap as a firefighter or a sports coach; he loves people and craves the thrill of adrenaline.

-Gaz could be a teacher, emanating a calm aura, and I see him excelling with kids or teenagers. Alternatively, he might thrive as a doctor or surgeon in the ER due to his ability to handle stressful situations. (the question is what subject as a teacher ?)

-Ghost might be best suited as a mechanic or a cook. He possesses exceptional skills but dislikes client service or social interaction. With his preference for routine, a career as a cook suits him well.

-Price would excel as a history teacher, particularly at the university level. (I've seen so many fics about it, I love it each times) His passion for guiding and assisting others, leading them to achieve their Ph.D. or dreams, aligns perfectly with this role.

-Nikolai's fit is obvious—he'd make an excellent pilot, perhaps in Formula 1, or even a taxi driver.

-Alex's strong sense of justice suggests a career in the legal system, perhaps initially as a lawyer defending large corporations before realizing the ethical implications and shifting to advocate for the underprivileged, akin to Murdock.

-Farah's natural inclination toward defending people's rights makes her a perfect fit for a career in politics. She would thrive in electoral campaigns and fighting for social justice issues, embodying the qualities of a strong leader.

-Laswell also exudes political vibes, aligning with a similar career trajectory, or maybe an interpret.

-König seems suited to be a baker, I am possibly influenced by reading too much about bakeries featuring Konig. Additionally, baking often serves as a coping mechanism for anxiety, which could resonate with him. Imagining him in a quaint local bakery in a peaceful village feels fitting.

-Alejandro's need for action suggests a career as an MMA fighter or a police officer. (it sounds dumb, but it makes sense in my mind-)His inherent drive to confront challenges and conflicts makes him well-suited for such physically demanding roles.

-Rudy appears outwardly calm but harbors a fiery passion. He might have been an ex-athlete who suffered a severe injury, leading him to find solace in a quieter profession like being a librarian. This juxtaposition of calmness and inner fire aligns well with such a career path.

Tell me your opinion, I really want to write a "how you meet them" in this AU, so does it sound good for you or not ?

[autotopic]

1938 Mercedes-Benz W154

In September 1936, the AIACR (Association Internationale des Automobile Clubs Reconnus), the governing body of motor racing, set the new Grand Prix regulations effective from 1938. Key stipulations included a maximum engine displacement of three liters for supercharged engines and 4.5 liters for naturally aspirated engines, with a minimum car weight ranging from 400 to 850 kilograms, depending on engine size.

By the end of the 1937 season, Mercedes-Benz engineers were already hard at work developing the new W154, exploring various ideas, including a naturally aspirated engine with a W24 configuration, a rear-mounted engine, direct fuel injection, and fully streamlined bodies. Ultimately, due to heat management considerations, they opted for an in-house developed 60-degree V12 engine designed by Albert Heess. This engine mirrored the displacement characteristics of the 1924 supercharged two-liter M 2 L 8 engine, with each of its 12 cylinders displacing 250 cc. Using glycol as a coolant allowed temperatures to reach up to 125°C. The engine featured four overhead camshafts operating 48 valves via forked rocker arms, with three cylinders combined under welded coolant jackets, and non-removable heads. It had a high-capacity lubrication system, circulating 100 liters of oil per minute, and initially utilized two single-stage superchargers, later replaced by a more efficient two-stage supercharger in 1939.

The first prototype engine ran on the test bench in January 1938, and by February 7, it had achieved a nearly trouble-free test run, producing 427 hp (314 kW) at 8,000 rpm. During the first half of the season, drivers such as Caracciola, Lang, von Brauchitsch, and Seaman had access to 430 hp (316 kW), which later increased to over 468 hp (344 kW). At the Reims circuit, Hermann Lang's W154 was equipped with the most powerful version, delivering 474 hp (349 kW) and reaching 283 km/h (176 mph) on the straights. Notably, the W154 was the first Mercedes-Benz racing car to feature a five-speed gearbox.

Max Wagner, tasked with designing the suspension, had an easier job than his counterparts working on the engine. He retained much of the advanced chassis architecture from the previous year's W125 but enhanced the torsional rigidity of the frame by 30 percent. The V12 engine was mounted low and at an angle, with the carburetor air intakes extending through the expanded radiator grille.

The driver sat to the right of the propeller shaft, and the W154's sleek body sat close to the ground, lower than the tops of its tires. This design gave the car a dynamic appearance and a low center of gravity. Both Manfred von Brauchitsch and Richard Seaman, whose technical insights were highly valued by Chief Engineer Rudolf Uhlenhaut, praised the car's excellent handling.

The W154 became the most successful Silver Arrow of its era. Rudolf Caracciola secured the 1938 European Championship title (as the World Championship did not yet exist), and the W154 won three of the four Grand Prix races that counted towards the championship.

To ensure proper weight distribution, a saddle tank was installed above the driver's legs. In 1939, the addition of a two-stage supercharger boosted the V12 engine, now named the M163, to 483 hp (355 kW) at 7,800 rpm. Despite the AIACR's efforts to curb the speed of Grand Prix cars, the new three-liter formula cars matched the lap times of the 1937 750-kg formula cars, demonstrating that their attempt was largely unsuccessful. Over the winter of 1938-39, the W154 saw several refinements, including a higher cowl line around the cockpit for improved driver safety and a small, streamlined instrument panel mounted to the saddle tank. As per Uhlenhaut’s philosophy, only essential information was displayed, centered around a large tachometer flanked by water and oil temperature gauges, ensuring the driver wasn't overwhelmed by unnecessary data.

[charles-leclerizz]

PORSCHE F1 TEAM

Precision Performance, Driven by Innovation

The roots of this prestigious car company date back to the early 20th century, when Ferdinand Porsche created the renowned company for automobiles in 1931. With a plentiful background of enginery exploration and innovation, Porsche has always willed itself to be associated with perfection, performance and precision. In the upcoming 2025 season of Formula One, Porsche has entered the race with a bold vision set to redefine the standard of excellence on the track. With cutting-edge technology, talent of the stars to the pursuit of vigilance, Porsche F1 Teams aim to re-write the triumph and legacy of Formula 1 history.

Sponsors :

Porsche boasts many sponsors on a universal scale, but notable names include:

‐ Hugo Boss ━ Plays a large part in designing the team's racing apparel and merch.

‐ Bose ━ Leading audio equipment manufacturer, could not only provide brand apparel but also help enhance team communication

‐ Adidas ━ For merchandising and casual team sports wear

‐ Rolex ━ A key sponsor that provides gold members with limited edition pieces created for/by the team

‐ Shell [shared with legacy team, Ferrari] ━ Provides fuel and lubricants for the team.

‐ Emirates ━ Major airline, provides commercial air trips for the team members and manufactures private jet's for important participants [drivers, team principal, CEO etc.]

‐ Sabyasachi ━ Provides sponsorship and media advertising

‐ Mahindra ━ Partnered with Porsche design and engine customisation

‐ Royal Enfield ━ Brand deals and apparel in India

‐ Amrapali jewels ━ sponsorship support along with more exclusive pieces for the team

‐ Forest essentials ━ An Indian focussed skincare brand, appealing to the more casual viewers of the sport along with media and sponsorship duties.

Team principal :

Katherine "Kate" Anderson

Katherine Anderson, also known as Kate originated from Manchester, United Kingdom. Growing up in a motorsport passionate family dynamic, her passion was sparked early on as she decided to pursue automobile and engine engineering from Oxford University. Her continued studies in Business and Advertising allowed her to pioneer women in motorsport events and lead to her being picked for the prestigious Porsche F1 team, being entrusted to bring the brand to success.

Kate is known for her dynamic leadership persona and innovative approach to management in general. She empowers her employees and colleagues under her command and fosters a friendly environment, creating excelling team performance on and off the track.

She is known to be a friendly face around the paddock, creating humorous situations and playing pranks on other personal around her. She is a natural-borne leader and commands to power and tenacity in pursuit for perfection, positive change and is a personality for inspiration to all female driver generations all around.

Drivers :

1 . Aisha Patel. 🪷

2 . Pierre Gasly. 🥐

honourary tags [for special pookies] : @disneyprincemuke, @weekendlusting, @woozarts, @mellowarcadefun, @paintedbypoetry, @33-81, @kazuha-pista-badam

[whimsy-wheels]

🌸 ωσмєη ιη мσтσяѕρσят 🌸

Formula One has long since been a sport dominated by men, but over the years, woman have steadily been making their mark - both in the paddock, and off track.

A Brief History of Women In F1

Maria Teresa de Filippis, the first female F1 driver.

Women have been involved in motorsports for decades, but their presence in F1 has been limited. The first female driver to race in a Formula One World Championship was Maria Teresa de Filippis, an Italian driver who competed in the 1950s.

Although she was unsuccessful in scoring any podium finishes, she made history as the first woman to race in a male-dominated sport.

After de Filippis, several women tried their luck in F1, including Lella Lombardi, who in 1975, became the first woman to score points in a World Championship race, finishing sixth at the Spanish Grand Prix. Yet, for many years, the sport remained largely a male sport, with few women breaking through.

Recent Steps Towards Gender Equality

The 2024 F1 Academy Grid

In the past decade, however, the landscape has started to shift - more women are being given opportunities in various F1 roles, and the doors are slowly opening for women to enter the sport in larger numbers.

While the number of women competing in the main sport - which is Formula One - is still small, there have been some incredible female drivers making waves in other categories.

Abbi Pulling

Abbi Pulling is a rising star in motorsport, known for her tenacity and skill on the track. She has made significant strides in junior categories like the W Series, and her determination and passion have earned her a sport in the GB3 series. Abbi is one of the young drivers representing the future of female talent in F1.

Alice Powell

Alice Powell, a former W series driver, now commentator and broadcaster, was one of, if not, the best during her run in the all-women’s series. She is also the coach and mentor to the current reigning W Series champion - Abbi Pulling.

Women And Engineering and Lead Roles

The opportunities for women in F1 are not limited to the driver’s seat. Women are making significant strides in engineering, technical roles, and team management, some of which are mentioned below.

Laura Mueller

As the newly appointed radio engineer for the Haas F1 Team in 2025, Laura Mueller is making waves in the traditionally male-dominated world of F1 engineering. Her appointment marks a significant milestone, as she becomes one of the few women to take on such a key technical role in the team.

Hannah Schmitz

Hannah Schmitz is a key figure at Red Bull Racing, serving as the team’s Strategy Director. Schmitz's leadership and expertise behind the scenes have earned her recognition, making her one of the most prominent women in Formula 1. Her ability to make critical calls under pressure has contributed to Red Bull's success on the track, solidifying her as a leading figure in the sport.

F1’s Engineering Workforce

More and more women are taking on technical roles at major F1 teams such as McLaren, Red Bull, Ferrari and Mercedes. These women are excelling in areas such as aerodynamics, strategy, car design and ensuring that the sport is not just about driving, but also innovation and teamwork.

Female Mentorship and Support Networks

One of the most exciting developments in F1 is the rise of mentorship programs and support networks aimed at helping young women pursue careers in motorsport. These initiatives focus on providing young girls with the skills, knowledge, and confidence to take on roles in F1.

Programs like the “Girls on Track” initiative, led by the FIA, are giving young women the opportunity to discover motorsport and take part in competitions. The program aims to create a path for young talent to reach the highest levels of motorsport, whether in racing or technical roles.

[cloudslou]

Abbi Pulling did not know the motor sport career she is enjoying — and excelling in, as the first female British Formula 4 race winner — was even a possibility when she was growing up. She thought go-karts were the extent of her racing opportunities.

“I didn’t actually have a clue,” the 21-year-old from Spalding in Lincolnshire says. “I thought that was it. It was only when I was a bit older, matured a bit more, probably at 12 or 13, when I realised there’s more to motor sport than just go-karts and motorbikes.

“When I started winning championships — at 15 years old I won the British [karting] championship — that was when I was like, ‘Oh what’s the next thing I can do?’ I just wanted to do it forever.”

Pulling has had the racing bug since she was three, attending a paddock for the first time alongside her father, Andy, who raced motorbikes. She began her own racing journey in go-karting at eight years old.

The F4 British Championship is largely based in the United Kingdom, as the name suggests, but will race for the first time in the Netherlands in July. It features 22 drivers from eight teams. It is aimed as a stepping stone from karting and Pulling is one of the elder drivers on the grid. She is seventh in the overall standings, the highest-placed female driver (out of four). Lando Norris, the McLaren Formula 1 driver who won the most recent Grand Prix in Miami, won an F4 title in 2015.

Her back-to-back victories, first in the F1 Academy — the all-female series founded by Formula 1 — in Miami and then in F4 at Brands Hatch last weekend, came after her career was almost ended in September 2021. In an emotional post on Instagram, Pulling described being “absolutely heartbroken” to withdraw from the F4 championship due to a lack of funding.

[…]

“When I was previously in British F4 I was getting what I would say were fair results, beating the boys, getting podiums, then I ran out of funding, unfortunately,” she says. “That put things into perspective, a lot. I was even more grateful for any opportunities.

“I grew from it and I learnt from it. It was an absolutely awful feeling, to be honest, but then I got an opportunity in the W Series. I put it in perspective — If I were a guy, I wouldn’t have had that; it would have been the end of the line.

[…]

For Pulling, the focus is on balancing F1 Academy and F4 for the remainder of the season.

“Any driver in my position wants to say that they want to go to Formula 1, but I’m not keeping my options closed,” she says. “I want to take any opportunities. The prize for winning F1 Academy is a funded seat for 2025 so that is obviously what I’ll be aiming for.”

full article here.

[multifandomlandfill]

All the people who say if Death Note took place today Light would be financially ruined by Genshin/Gacha games/similar things are wrong. If Death Note took place today he'd be obsessed with competitive Microsoft Excel.

He'd treat it with the same seriousness as the tennis match and his murder spree, and he'd be ridiculously good at it. Regional champion at least, but possibly one of the best in the world. Except...there is one detective who never sleeps and is incredibly fast on a keyboard...his arch enemy, the one person who could defeat him.

The Kira case happens the same as in canon except any time they have to analyze a large amount of data on the killings or cross reference anything, it's the most competitive, psychosexual, spreadsheet-making known to man. They have to do monologues and show montages of the sheets because Light and L are so extra about it it's unavoidable.

From the perspective of the rest of the task force, they just make lovely spreadsheets really fast and it's convenient and takes a lot of work off of Matsuda's shoulders, at least. They have no idea about the battles waged over formulas and color coding, how quickly the data can be entered, and how streamlined the use.

[maximumwobblerbanditdonut]

Alex Norouzi’s Aston Martin car idea came from The Aston Martin British Bloodline exhibit that was on display at the Fontainebleau Las Vegas in November 2024, celebrating the 111-year heritage of the British marque during the race week. The exhibit featured a collection of Aston Martin vehicles, including the Vanquish V12 flagship.

The display was part of the Formula 1 Heineken Silver Las Vegas Grand Prix 2024. It celebrated the launch of the DB12 Goldfinger Edition, which marked the 60th anniversary of the James Bond film Goldfinger. That race week SH and Alex were in the Las Vegas Grand Prix 🏎️ and visited the exhibition to see the Aston Martin Vanquish V12 that Norouzi picked up from the dealership in New Port Beach a month later (in the video above)

In December 2024, when Alex bought the Aston Martin the origin of his Sassenach lifestyle was clear. 🥃 Twenty years ago, when he moved to L.A., his taste was quite tacky. 😬 However, this luxurious journey over the past four years around Sassenach has helped him find the inspiration to update his style and taste.

Which raises the question of style. I think Alex was at his peak with his Sassenach lifestyle in 2024, very different to his 2004 lifestyle which was just "less classy". It lacked the simplicity and of course, the quality in his tastes that have seen his Sassenach style adopted (in just 4 years) and funded by women who don't have much knowledge of what they drink but are trying to appear to be what they are not exactly, like AN's pretended sophistication which is not at all iconic to Aston Martin.

As he said is a mid-life crisis, but not all men are ostentatious and there are many reasons why a man might behave in a certain way: Alex is a man to believes that their value comes from adding monetary values to socialise and impress others. That means a lack of emotional connection: He might not know how to connect on a different level because he wasn’t raised to observe another type of behaviour.

Alex Norouzi recently became wealthy and enjoys spending money in an obvious way. He can show up his Ashton Martin and spend his money as he wants on things he doesn't need. Just stop ramming their wealth up everyone’s noses, which also serves Sam who introduced him to this Sassenach lifestyle.

Because in terms of refinement, neither of them has yet discovered the meaning of quality of excellence in thought, manners, and taste. So, Alex carries an Aston Martin in his pocket and flaunts wealth like any nouveau riche without inherited riches.

If you're wondering how AN has amassed his wealth, it's important to note that in his partnership with SH and Sassenach, a small alcoholic beverage brand, he has not made substantial contributions due to his profound lack of knowledge of the alcohol industry.

Sasenach business is primarily online and relies heavily on SH's female fanbase, who often wait in long queues outside wine and liquor shops just to see their idol. Many of these fans purchase drinks they don’t consume or save the bottles for decorative interior purposes.

A key question remains: why did Sam choose AN as his business partner in an industry where he lacks experience and knowledge? Alex does not exhibit strong potential, and partnering with SH presents significant risks—particularly due to the absence of clear expectations and support systems to address the knowledge gaps within the company.

Nevertheless, His Sassenach lifestyle’s profit was slashed after he bought the car, and now they are rushing to sell whisky and gin after spending so much money on an unplanned large purchase. Some are boring idiots.

Posted 6th March 2025

shinycomputerqueens-blog If SH & AN are considering any idea 💡 with Aston Martin, I don't believe it will be beneficial. Aston Martin has a unique collaboration with Bowmore Islay Single Malt Scotch, featuring a handcrafted bottle that contains a rare single malt aged 31 Years Old - Black Bowmore 1964.

Starting in 2024, the Aston Martin Aramco Formula One Team also have an exclusive multi-year partnership with Glenfiddich®, the world’s most awarded single malt Scotch whisky. This luxury sports car as you say is to feed an ego, and not for business purposes.

[formulaphoe]

the brutality and unfairness of formula 1

image source: f1

formula 1 is often hailed as the pinnacle of motorsport—a glamorous world filled with speed, technology, and the elites of racing. yet beneath the polished surface lies a brutal reality that often leaves drivers and teams at the mercy of ruthless decisions and the cold calculus of performance. with the controversies surrounding recent driver sackings and the ever-looming shadow of financial disparity, it's high time to examine why many argue that f1 is not a fair sport.

ruthless reality

image source: williams racing

just recently, valtteri bottas made headlines by bluntly stating that formula 1 is "not a fair sport." this sentiment resonates deeply with fans and insiders alike, especially in light of the way teams handle their drivers. for instance, williams' mid-season decision to replace logan sargeant has raised eyebrows and sparked heated debates. was it a ruthless move? or was it justified based on performance? the circumstances around logan's sacking were especially harsh, underlining the pressure to deliver results in a sport that doesn't tolerate anything below excellence.

these decisions are just business, but they reflect a culture where loyalty and patience often take a backseat to immediate results and instant gratification. a planetf1 analysis of f1 driver sackings reveals a history of brutal firings that underscore the cutthroat nature of the sport. one moment a driver is a team's new big thing, and the next they can find themselves out of a job—often with little explanation and even less sympathy.

money talks

image source: planetf1

one of the most damning realities of formula 1 is the pervasive influence of money. while talent is certainly a necessity for success, it's increasingly clear that without financial backing, even the most skilled drivers can find their careers stymied. talent alone isn't enough—financial resources play a critical role in a driver's future on track.

the narrative is all too familiar: drivers from wealthy backgrounds secure seats, while those without such financial support are often left scrambling for alternatives. the talent pool is vast, but the pathways to success are often barricaded by financial constraints, leaving many deserving drivers in the dust.

pressure cooker environment

image source: f1

the intense pressure in f1 extends beyond just performance; it creates a hostile environment where mental health often takes a back seat. with every race being a high-stakes affair, the neverending pressure to perform can lead to a decline in mental health, resulting in public scrutiny and harsh critiques from fans and pundits alike.

this culture can be devastating, particularly for young drivers like sargeant, who may not yet have developed the thick skin required to withstand the scrutiny that comes with the job. in a sport where every mistake is magnified, the fear of failure looms large, creating a vicious cycle of anxiety and poor performance.

a system rigged against fair play

image source: valtteri bottas

as bottas pointed out, the very structure of f1 seems rigged. with teams prioritising sponsorship over pure driving skill, the sport can sometimes feel more like a corporate machine than a celebration of racing talent. the narrative that emerges is one where drivers are mere cogs in a vast, profit-driven engine—evaluated not just on their ability to race, but on their marketability and financial backing too.

this is a trend that not only alienates talented drivers, but also undermines the essence of competition. when financial clout trumps sheer talent, fans are left wondering if they are witnessing trye sporting excellence or merely a financial showcase.

a call for change

image source: reddit

the brutality and unfairness of formula 1 cannot be ignored. as we witness the rise and fall of drivers like logan sargeant and daniel ricciardo and hear the stark words of valtteri bottas, it's clear that something needs to change. the sport should be a true meritocracy, where talent is the primary determinant of success, rather than the size of a driver's bank account and mental health is valued and supported.

in a world that often glorifies the fast and the furious, it's time to take a step back and consider the humans behind the helmets. the brutal realities of f1 deserve a spotlight, not just for the sake of drivers like logan and daniel, but for the integrity of the sport as a whole. it's high time formula 1 balanced its fierce competitiveness with a sense of fairness, allowing true talent to shine without the heavy hand of financial disparity and mental turmoil looming overhead.

sources

woodhouse, jamie. "valtteri bottas delivers brutal f1 'not a fair sport' verdict after '10 per cent driver' claim." planetf1, 16 aug. 2024, www.planetf1.com/news/valterri-bottas-formula-1-not-a-fair-sport

beevi, zuhrah. "williams replacing logan sargeant mid-season: brutal or deserved?" medium, 28 aug. 2024, www.medium.com/formula-one-forever/williams-replacing-logan-sargeant-mid-season-brutal-or-deserved-b0bd57de94b9

mitchell-malm, scott. "the most damning part of william's ruthless f1 sacking." the race, 28 aug. 2024, www.the-race.com/formula-1/most-damning-part-williams-ruthless-sacking-logan-sargeant/

maher, thomas. "f1 driver sackings: the most brutal firings and bitter disputes in f1 history." planetf1, 17 july 2024, www.planetf1.com/features/brutal-f1-driver-sackings

"the cruel side of formula 1: talent not enough, without money there is no future on the track." scuderia fans, 8 sept. 2024, www.scuderiafans.com/the-cruel-side-of-formula-1-talent-not-enough-without-money-there-is-no-future-on-the-track/

if any errors or typos are noticed, PLS PLS point them out via comment, ask, or dm. if there is a specific topic you would like me to cover, send in an ask and i'll look into it!

[heliads]

i've got my money on things going badly

Lance Stroll should be delighted to watch his sister get married, but the only heart he's thinking about is his own. The one Fernando Alonso broke.

masterlist

To Lance, weddings are a kind of performance art. He’s gotten somewhat good at them ever since he was younger, when the Strolls were invited to everything. His father would get caught up in knots of expensive men wearing expensive suits, lost in business talks for hours, but Lance could slip away the second someone blinked, go find his sister disguised in a coat closet somewhere and talk about Pokémon or cable TV or something little kids like best. 

Now his sister is the one getting married, and, enfolded into someone else’s party of groomsmen, Lance has absolutely no chance of hiding, excessively large coat closets of the elite be damned. He likes Scotty, really he does, even went to the trouble of presenting him to Chloe as a potential husband in the first place, but ceremonies are always long and Lance, as per usual, is tired of it.

He should be good. He should like this. Weddings are wonderful ceremonies. You can appreciate them for the expensive decorations and myriad artistic decisions that go into them, if not the fact that they’re basically just one extended celebration dedicated to the love of your close friends and family. 

Lance is here for his sister and her future happiness with her recently declared husband. This should be an excellent day, and it has been, along with the rest of the wedding festivities that have been going on for ages, but now that the sun has set and he’s still here, starch-stiff in his dress suit, wishing he could go but knowing he can’t.

It’s not even the wedding’s fault, really, it’s just that Lance can’t stand spending so long thinking about the bliss of someone else’s love when he’s just lost one of his own. His sister is twirling in a white dress, a woman who hasn’t stopped smiling in hours, and Lance is standing in the shadows of this rosy glory with just one name on his mind.

Fernando Alonso.

It’s foolish, what this has done to him. Lance waved goodbye to Seb last year and told himself that he could look forward to another good relationship with another world championship teammate. Fernando would be challenging but rewarding as another Aston Martin driver, or so the motorsport gossip pages had told him.

What no one counted on was just how Fernando would make Lance feel. Not even Lance can do a good job of that, not really. There are no words in English or Spanish or even half-and-half lighthearted Spanglish that can sum up how Lance’s ribs ache like they’ve been bruised from sentences alone. 

He had not meant to love Fernando; hell, he wasn’t even sure he did until the abrupt ending, but now Lance is choking on the words he never got to say and wondering how he’s meant to pick up the pieces of a heart that was only ever Fernando’s to break. Lance was supposed to stay professional, and he didn’t, and now he’s the one suffering for it. So it goes.

It didn’t take much, actually. Four months to fall. One month to break. Now he’s standing alone in the corner of his sister’s wedding, hoping for an escape that doesn’t seem willing to come his way. He’d been stupid, thought he could take too much, but is that really his fault for trying? All his life, he’s been told that he could be anything, do anything, have anything, and now he’s found that limit and it hurts like hell.

It’s not like anyone told him that the meter on Stroll luck and expectation would fall short when it came to one Spanish two time world championship winner. Well, that’s not true. Esteban had tried. Lance had not listened. He cannot even say for sure that he should have, because Lance had been very happy up until the point when he wasn’t.

It almost makes sense that the whole affair was conducted over such a short period of time. Lance is impatient, he likes doing things fast. It’s why he was able to become a Formula One driver. It’s why he set his sights on the man most likely to break his heart and cut the brakes before either of them could back out of it.

And it was just. Fuck. Hands on shoulders on the backs of necks on waists. How Fernando kept whispering in his ear, so close he could feel the other man’s breath hot on his neck, even though/just because it made Lance h— they were on camera the whole time. It didn’t matter. They wanted what they wanted and they got it, too. 

Or, Lance had thought they had got what they wanted, and then he had dared to ask for a label for the unspoken thing he was sure both of them felt, and everything was lost for good. It was the end of the Miami race weekend, and Fernando was drunk on the glory of another podium, happy enough that Lance felt certain that he could have the conversation he wanted without it going sour.

They had been hanging around one of their driver’s rooms– which one, Lance can never tell, they kept swapping door to door until even the labeled placards felt like a joke of hospitality’s courtesy. Sprawled out on a couch, so close that Lance couldn’t stop staring at how their legs kept touching whenever he breathed too hard, he’d felt absolutely crazy with the knowledge that this was his.

Too much of a good thing can make you foolish, convince you that things will be that good forever. Lance had laughed to himself, then turned to Fernando with a grin. “We’ll still be like this next season, right?”

Fernando had given him this look as if he were being intentionally difficult. “Yes, Lance. My contract will not expire for another season. I will be on the grid.”

Lance had shaken his head. “No, duh, I mean like, hanging out like we are now. You know, like us.” 

Lance doubts he could have packed more meaning into that one syllable if he tried. He’s heard Fernando refer to the unbreakable us before too many times to count, like when they’re coming back from a bar late and Fernando, eyes dark and heavy, promised him they’d have fun like that again, just us. Or, scoffing at the other driver lineups– they’re not us, you know. They don’t get along as well. One hand on Lance’s shoulder, fingers digging into muscle, the others could never get along as well.

Fernando had cocked his head to the side, curious. “What do you mean? We’re teammates.”

Lance had rolled his eyes. “Yeah, obviously, but like, there’s more. You know that.”

The space between them went silent. He should have taken that as his first warning sign if nothing else. Fernando had cleared his throat carefully and said, “What else would there be?”

Lance can still imagine the cold feeling that had descended upon him, spreading from the back of his throat like ink. What else would there be? It was impossible that he could have misread every single signal, every touch, every unspoken word. Unless, of course, the hidden meaning he dedicated so much time to channeling had never been there at all.

Lance had waved his hand vaguely. “But we were– you know, we did. Things.”

Fernando’s expression was impossible to read. “Did we?”

It was condescending and pitying and Lance hated it, all of it. He felt like a boy again, small enough to watch his voice disappear into the stillness of an uncaring room. He’d shot up from the couch, pushing out the door and away before anything else could happen. If anything had happened at all, or if it would, that is. Apparently, Lance has made a habit of picturing things that didn’t fucking exist.

Now he’s left spiraling like he survived a bad breakup, but you can’t have a breakup if there was never so much as a spark in the first place. It’s impossible that Fernando could have missed it all. Impossible, that Lance could have simply invented it. He knows what he felt, he knows what Fernando did, but none of it was worthy of a single word of acknowledgement from the other half of two seemingly perfect parts.

He wants to scream and throw up and put his phone down for longer than ten minutes at a time. There are many, many things that Lance had wanted to tell Fernando, and it’s only now starting to occur to him that he’ll never get the chance. I wanted to transform. For you. I wanted to be good. You made me want to be better. 

It’s foolish for him to be thinking of things like this. Lance is a young man. He’s got time for his heart to grow up and even out. Maybe in a decade or less, he’ll meet some perfectly nice young woman, someone his father would approve of, someone with country club connections that won’t rival his own (who can) but could at least keep up with the game. They’d have a manicured front lawn and two docile children, including a son to keep up the Stroll legacy. It would be normal, it would not break his heart like this. It would be very dependable.

Lance doesn’t want dependable, though, he knows it as he thinks it. He wants wild, unpredictable, insane things like falling in love with your teammate and letting him convince you that he’d settle down for you. Lance wants to be the reason someone so used to choosing themselves chooses you instead. He wants Fernando, and he wants no one else.

This is a difficult thing to think about at a wedding. Across the crowded event hall, he can see his sister, happy and secure in the knowledge that her husband is hers, legally and emotionally. There are scores of couples smiling up at each other, content that their love is theirs and no one else’s. 

Lance stands alone, tapping his foot to the beat so he doesn’t look like a complete loser. Every time someone looks over at him, he wants to shout that he’s fine, actually, this is fine, he doesn’t need someone the way that everyone else seems to, but they glance away again before he can properly vocalize this.

The DJ spins another song, the beat drops and the dance floor shakes appropriately from a hundred stomping feet, and just when Lance is certain that he wants to give up and really tries in earnest to look for somewhere to go, the crowd parts and Lance sees him.

Fernando. Here. Impossible. Yet that’s still a glint of hickory eyes he’d know anywhere, even distorted by swimming shades of party lights. Lance feels physically immobile as the man who cannot possibly be his teammate skirts couples and friend groups, and then they’re standing in front of each other and even though this cannot be, it is, and this is the first time Lance has seen him since the argument.

Lance stares at Fernando, jaw dropped comically. He has the harebrained thought that he’s glad the only camera nearby is the one in the hands of Chloe’s Vogue-ordered photographer; if this was the paddock, he’d probably end up as yet another stupid reaction image, giffed into oblivion until not even Lance can recognize his face when he sees it again.

If this was the paddock, seeing Fernando wouldn’t be such a surprise. If this was the paddock, Lance would not feel the absurd urge to run, because Fernando would already be gone, separated by an impenetrable wall of PR officers and personal trainers and anyone else he could shove in between the two of them.

Instead, they’re in one of the rare quiet patches in the wedding reception hall, and Lance is watching Fernando watch him, and slowly, deliberately, Lance forces his mouth to shut enough to ask, “How did you get in here?”

Fernando chuckles, teeth flashing in the uneven lighting of the dark hall. Lance has taken to ranking his teammate’s grins on a sliding scale from closed lips to a shark’s predatory display. This one is somewhere in the middle, hovering between quiet and pleased. Maybe even real. 

“I bribed Daniel to get me past the door,” he says.

Lance casts an outraged look across the dancefloor until he catches the Australian attempting to foxtrot with Scotty. They should both be at least passable at it, but both men keep trying to lead, then follow, then lead again, endless cycles of not-quite-right. 

Daniel somehow feels Lance looking– twitchy, isn’t he, has been all day– catches sight of Fernando standing in front of him, and grins apologetically. Bastard. If Lance gets him for grid Secret Santa, if Daniel manages to make it back onto the grid before December, he’ll have to actually try this time. Lance might owe him big for this.

The DJ starts a new number, cueing flashing lights that cascade from the blinding storm on the dance floor to faint rays out here where the two of them linger in the shadows, occasional flashlight beams sent out to catch them.

Lance swallows hard, watches the LEDs dye Fernando’s hair with undertones of Renault yellow, Ferrari red, Aston Martin green. If he were in the mood to be honest, Lance would admit that he’s been looking at Fernando for a while, actually. Not just since Fernando joined his team, before that, too. Long before they were teammates, when Lance first started racing in Formula One and he was eighteen and Fernando was thirty-five, a fact that makes him shiver down to his toes every time he thinks of it, which is– more often than it should be, for certain.

Now that the issue has been solved of how Fernando managed to get past the security guards Chloe swore were unnecessary and Lawrence swore he wouldn’t hire, plus the overeager wedding planners and racing fans stuck outside the gates with iPhone cameras, Lance pivots to a new question, one far more important.

“Why are you here?” Lance asks cautiously. 

He knows what he wants to hear, of course, but he can’t let himself get his hopes up just for them to be dashed yet again. This is not his wedding, of course. Fernando could be here to corner some Aston Martin engineers or strategists if they won’t return his midnight calls. He could even be here for Danny, which would explain why the Australian went to the trouble of letting him in, and he’s just stopping by Lance because he got caught while trying to get drinks. 

That thought makes Lance’s stomach twist in angry knots, and he’s only calmed from saying or doing something rash by Fernando’s following words, quiet in the dark but full of a lasting power.

“For you, Lance,” he says, “I came for you.”

God. Lance has spent the whole day witnessing lavish displays of affection, but for some reason it is seven simple words that makes him come undone. He stands there, stock still, and Fernando asks hesitantly, “Is that okay?”

It reminds Lance of how it had been before everything went south, when they were both dancing around a truth both ugly and glorious, that teammates do not stare like they did, that coworkers should not use getting drunk at an Aston Martin post-race celebration party as an excuse to keep their hands on each other, that Fernando didn’t keep interrupting Lance’s interviews to place his hands on Lance’s shoulders and whisper in his ear that he was Fernando’s hero just to get Lance to react like he always did. Not something he was supposed to do on camera, but neither of them could stop.

It is like the very beginning. Fernando, infiltrating Lance’s garage to lean down over the edge of the halo of Lance’s test drive and grip his gloved hands. How’s the car? Fernando, stopping by Lance’s driver’s room to hug him around the shoulders, cold and damp from the champagne that was still soaked through his race suit. I saw you out there. It was good, no? We are good? Fernando, with his hand on Lance’s leg when they’re supposed to be paying attention in a dry and stilted meeting with no one’s eyes on them for once. Can I? Is it alright? 

Lance never said no. Even when his breath caught in his throat. Even when he knew he was just sinking further into a pit he would never be able to escape. The falling was the best part, anyway.

“Fine,” he says at last, “Dance with me, then. If you want to talk, we dance. I’m sick of being a wallflower anyway.”

He raises an eyebrow impetuously, daring Fernando to make the next move. If Fernando’s actually serious about being here for Lance, he won’t mind this. He won’t mind the chance that someone could see them together and start to speculate. If Lance is anything other than a backroom missed connection, they should be able to dance without worrying.

Fernando nods once, accepting his challenge. He places one hand on Lance’s waist, the other on his waiting hand. His grip is strong, but not agonizing. Just a reminder that Lance will not be able to leave easily, not unless Fernando is satisfied that the situation has been handled as he planned.

Here, locked in the vise of another man’s arms, Lance thinks about how deeply he’s let himself get enthralled in Fernando’s way of doing things. He likes pretending that he’s the one in control, that Fernando is here to win him over, but the second Fernando’s hands are on him, Lance cedes that last bit of power over to him. Fernando does it easily, like a habit. It probably is.

Esteban warned him about this, after all, how easy it is to get sucked in. Lance, however, does not mind Fernando’s trap in the slightest. The rabbit must learn to love the snare. The bird likes its cage when the gilded bars keep it safe. 

“I was thinking,” Fernando begins.

“Always a good start,” Lance quips.

The hand on Lance’s waist tightens momentarily, a warning. Lance kind of wants to mouth off some more to see what the resulting action would be.

“I was thinking,” Fernando repeats, “that I may have gotten something wrong. I did not want to rush you, Lance. We have a lot of time. Being hasty can cost you.”

Unwillingly, Lance’s mind flashes to driver’s meetings, planning sessions with his engineer. Being a driver is knowing the difference between when to push and when to plan. Fernando  may have spent a lot of time guarding his pace, but Lance gets the feeling he’s finally ready to go for the trophy, the fastest lap. To sprint and never look back.

“I don’t want you as just a teammate,” Fernando continues. “I had not realized you thought we were past that. It would have sped things along, I think, if I had.”

“I thought we had plenty of time,” Lance comments.

“We do,” Fernando says smoothly. “But that does not mean I want to push this off any more if I don’t have to.”

“This?” Lance asks, feeling like he’s parodying that fateful conversation from so long ago, “And what’s this?”

Fernando meets his gaze coolly, calmly, and then he smiles and changes everything. Night brown eyes go caramel. “We have something better than anyone else, Lance. I do not want to lose it.”

There’s a sharp, triumphant streak in those words. Fernando Alonso has always been on a different level from everyone else. Hearing that he considers Lance on that distinct pedestal as well– it makes Lance lean into his touch a little more, and the last of his guard drops away.

“Why’d you tell me differently earlier, then?” He can’t help but ask. “You could have said you wanted me then.”

Fernando sighs, looks away. “I didn’t know I wanted it then. I didn’t count on how it would feel to lose you. I know now. I don’t want to feel it again.”

Across the room, they’re starting to cheer and shout from the center of the dance floor. It takes Lance a few moments to realize that the applause isn’t for the two of them but for the newlyweds, Chloe and Scotty, who are leading the group in an exuberant rendition of I Wanna Dance with Somebody. Lance thinks that it wouldn’t be entirely unfounded for the cheering to be for him, though. He feels like celebrating now.

And, when he looks back, Fernando’s lips are on his. Lance stumbles a little, and Fernando’s hand slides up his spine to catch him before he loses balance. It’s easy. It’s victorious. Lance never wants to let him go.

Fernando’s breath is hot against his throat, sending Lance into a feverish spiral. “I’ll see you in Monaco,” he whispers, and then he’s pulling away.

Lance watches him leave, but for once, it’s not a sad feeling. Instead, the emotion currently crashing through Lance’s bones is more one of anticipation. This is not the end, just the beginning. Fernando turns once, smiling at him before disappearing in a crush of people. Lance’s chest feels cold where Fernando’s hands had once been, but his heart’s racing enough to make up for the lost heat.

A voice by his shoulder; his sister, who has somehow fought her way through the crowd of well-wishers to find him. “Was that your teammate?” She asks, frowning.

Lance gazes softly at the place that had once been his. “Yeah, it was.”

Chloe tilts her head to the side with a frown, considering this. “Is something going on there?”

“Yes,” Lance answers her. Chloe looks like she wants far more of a response than just that, but Lance just laughs and helps her back to the dance floor. He will have plenty more days to explain it to her. After all, Fernando was right. They do have plenty of time.

f1 tag list: @j-brielmalfoy, @juphey

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[grrrlsoverdramas]

Ok, so let's say that at the end of the world, I decided to spend my free time watching Chinese historical family intrigue romance (there's gotta be a specific name for this genre but idk it) dramas. The point of this is brain rot, but one must pretend one's avoidance mechanics are purposefuly, thus:

The reason I enjoy watching these dramas is multi-fold. I'm chasing the high from Minglan, still. I appreciate a formula; particularly, I love a formula that includes revenge, tragic love triangles, competenance porn, and an emphasis on rationality/logic being hot. I love the way that period dramas, particularly in a highly censored environment, are such an explicit from of building national identity and morality. What does this society want to say about itself? What does its desires reveal?

So, in order to pretend there's some point to this, my brain is pattern-finding within this hyperfixation. So I'll start from the beginning.

The Double (dir. Bai Yun Mo, Lu Hao Ji Ji, Ma Shi Ge, aired 2024) Watched: June/July 2024 *Technically in the beforetimes, I may need to rewatch Overall: Dessert

Concept follow-through: ★★★★☆ (would have loved a bit more confusion re:is this bitch a ghost?, but it was good)

Coherency: ★★☆☆☆ (look, lots of stuff just happens, and that's fine with me)

Romance: ★★★★★★★★ (made for each other!! unhinged!!! if they can't be together, everyone SHOULD die, ok??)

Vibes: ★★★★★★ (unmatched, if sometimes a little schticky)

Bad guys and their conspiracy: ★★★★☆ (Cartoonish, but love that the princess royal had like a pretty fair reason for being that way, and acting was unparalleled tbh, so I will forgive)

Family and Villain Comeuppance: ★★★★☆ (wasn't able to match the vibes I fear)

Reverse Harem Factor: ★★★★★★ (Like he is jealous of how badly she wants her ex-husband dead!!!!! this is what I came to this party for)

Weird ancient-times focus? I don't remember

Is there a plastic surgeon in these ancient times? Not really in a big way, but there is obvious digital skin smoothing technology so that's dumb

Acting: ★★★★★★ (amazing, theatrical, here for the drama)

Ending: JAIL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Moral of the story? The military is good, don't trust foreign nations, women aren't made for governance, but also this show kinda just fucks

Blossom (dir. Zeng Qing Wie, aired 2024) Watched: Dec. 2024 Overall: Good meal

Concept follow-through: ★★★☆☆ (fine, but pretty crazy how much she can remember/figure out about the "future" given the context of her first life)

Coherency: ★★★★☆

Romance: ★★★★★ (5 star chemistry, 5 star destiny nonsense, 5 star tension, 5 stars!)

Vibes: ★★★☆☆ boring

Bad guys and their conspiracy: ★★★★☆ (appreciated that different bad guys had different motivations, not everyone was just traitors to be traitors, especially appreciated the whole dad/bro situation of ml as being fairly unique; fl's family was a bit uninspired by comparison)

Family/villain Comeuppance: ★★★★☆ (esp. her former husband and her sister -- they are largely emotionally exonerated but still reach a just punishment, and they're still stupid! I was so mad/sad her sister died but also like.... it was fair; the emperor was too plot device-y though)

Reverse Harem Factor: ★★☆☆☆ (Provided us with one excellent scene; the second ml is mostly pointless in this regard but I greatly appreciate that he's like... also a mastermind and a bit of a villain, so he is a good character/foil, just not a good love triangle leg)

Weird ancient time focus? Agricultural development of tubers to overcome climate-related disasters

Acting: ★★★★☆ (main leads doing their jobs, others are inconsistent)

Is there a plastic surgeon in these ancient times: Yes, FL could never exist in the past and her make up makes that obvious

Ending: ★★★☆☆ boring

Moral of the story? men shouldn't cheat on their wives they should listen to them, murder of innocents for government reform is fine but murder of the powerful for personal glory is not, hot people should get to live

[paddockanalysis]

🏆 2024 - Fourth Time's the Charm

Main post! 2020 2021 2022 2023

By 2024, Max Verstappen had firmly established himself as the benchmark in Formula 1, consistently outperforming his rivals and teammates. The season reflected Red Bull Racing’s continued excellence with the RB20, an evolution of the team’s already dominant platform. Let’s break down Verstappen’s success and its context in the wider competition.

Team Comparisons

Red Bull (Verstappen vs. Pérez) Verstappen’s superior adaptability to the RB20 was evident. While Sergio Pérez had moments of brilliance, his inability to match Verstappen’s consistency—particularly on high-speed circuits—left him as a supporting player rather than a challenger. Verstappen extracted peak performance from the RB20 in all conditions, benefiting from its improved aerodynamics and unmatched rear stability.

McLaren McLaren emerged as Red Bull’s closest competitor, thanks to major mid-season updates to the MCL60 that improved its cornering speed and tire degradation. Lando Norris displayed remarkable pace, particularly at the British and Singapore GPs, where his high-pressure battles with Verstappen proved thrilling. However, McLaren’s car lacked the versatility of the RB20, making them competitive only on certain tracks.

Ferrari Ferrari began the season with high hopes, but the SF-24 struggled with race pace and tire management, especially on high-degradation tracks. Charles Leclerc, while quick over one lap, couldn’t consistently challenge Verstappen on Sundays. Ferrari’s strategy missteps, reminiscent of past seasons, further compounded their struggles.

Mercedes Mercedes found itself grappling with an inconsistent W15. George Russell showed flashes of competitiveness, while Lewis Hamilton’s vast experience allowed him to extract results from a sub-optimal car. Despite their collective efforts, neither driver posed a serious threat to Verstappen.

Driver Comparisons and Defining Races

Saudi Arabian GP Verstappen’s victory in Jeddah demonstrated his tactical acumen and ability to withstand pressure. Facing stiff challenges from Norris and Leclerc, Verstappen’s precise defensive driving and superior race pace were critical.

British GP Lando Norris pushed Verstappen to the limit in a wheel-to-wheel battle at Silverstone. Verstappen’s ability to maintain composure under relentless pressure highlighted his mental resilience and racecraft.

Singapore GP Starting outside the top 10 due to a rare qualifying mishap, Verstappen climbed through the field to secure a podium. This race exemplified his calculated aggression and Red Bull’s race-day adaptability.

Sao Paulo Outlier

Alpine’s 2024 season exemplified the extremes of Formula 1 performance variability. Despite a largely disappointing year, the team achieved a remarkable breakthrough in one standout event—widely referred to as the “Sao Paulo outlier.” This race showcased a perfect storm of favorable conditions, from strategic brilliance to driver execution, allowing Alpine to capitalize on the unique circumstances. The event highlighted flaws in the Constructors' Championship structure, where a single exceptional result could disproportionately affect standings. This anomaly has reignited debates on the fairness and consistency of F1’s points system, with calls for revisions to better reflect team performance across an entire season.

Williams Fiasco

Logan Sargeant’s struggles at Williams culminated in his mid-season replacement by Franco Colapinto, an Argentine driver making history as the first from his country to compete in F1 since Gastón Mazzacane. Sargeant’s inconsistent performances, particularly in race craft and qualifying, left Williams seeking a more reliable talent. Colapinto, highly rated for his feeder series successes, brought renewed energy to the team and quickly demonstrated his potential with solid results. This transition symbolized the high-stakes nature of F1, where even slight underperformance can lead to drastic career changes.

📈 The Formula for Success

What changed after 2020? Red Bull and Verstappen identified their weaknesses and turned them into strengths. The cars became more reliable, faster, and easier to handle across varying conditions. Verstappen matured as a driver, evolving from a hot-headed talent into a calculated and relentless competitor. Perhaps most crucially, Red Bull’s strategic brilliance on the pit wall often outmanoeuvred competitors, ensuring they made the most of their opportunities. Max Verstappen’s dominance is a testament to hard work, adaptability, and the relentless pursuit of perfection. His story continues to inspire and redefine what it means to be a Formula 1 champion.

Max Verstappen’s 2024 season was the culmination of talent, engineering excellence, and strategic mastery. By continuously evolving and learning from past challenges, Verstappen and Red Bull set a new standard in modern Formula 1.

Future changes may be made to this post depending on how Qatar and AbuDhabi GPs turn out.

Please don’t copy my work🙏