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#team-driven businesses
pose4photoml · 1 month
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I’ve driven across this bridge countless times growing up. My thoughts and prayers are with everyone involved 😔
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holyshit · 1 year
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#'no need to post' anon#yeah like you said in your second ask i think most of the criticism right now is based around them being very lazy and relying on fans#to do the work they should be doing#even if louis doesn't personally want to go on a press tour right now- there is still tonnnns they could be doing that don't require his#active participation#but instead of investing resources into him and his career and do that work#they instead just keep falling back onto the fans to do everything which is always gonna result in very limited reach#so i do very much agree with the criticism people are throwing at his team right now#but regarding what you said- i agree as well there#i do think there is a lot of focus on only a specific kind of success- like the beyonce level of famous#which is not at all what everyone is gonna want#i do think louis wants to be successful and he's said as much#but everyone has different parameters for what they consider to be success#for their own life and their own comfort and downtime#like as someone who partially owns a small business- i have absolutely no desire to make my business a multi-million dollar affair#i want it to stay at a certain level that allows me to still be in control of it#where i get to live a comfortable life and maintain my business at a manageable level that doesn't take away all my free time#i'm still ambitious but ambitious within the parameters of the kind of 'success' i want#and i think it's weird when people act like i'm not ambitious or driven because of that#and i think people often views it in a very black and white way- either you don't care at all or you want to be the biggest artist in the#world#which i think is a narrow way of seeing it#none of us truly know what kind of success louis wants. i think he does want his music to be heard and i do think he wants to continue#growing his fanbase and his live shows#based on what he's said. i think he's ambitious and driven.#so i think his marketing departments need to get off their asses and do more#but do i think he wants to be the biggest artist in the world and constantly be on press tours? not necessarily. maybe. idk.#but i don't think that should be the only barometer people use when judging what success is. it varies a lot from person to person.
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sgrji · 8 months
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Six Sigma Quality: Achieving Excellence in Process Improvement
Certainly, I’ve removed the asterisks from the article, and I’ll ensure not to include them in future articles. Here’s the revised article: Six Sigma Quality: Achieving Excellence in Process Improvement In the world of business and manufacturing, achieving and maintaining high-quality standards is essential for success and customer satisfaction. Six Sigma, a methodology that originated from…
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kajmasterclass · 9 months
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luveline · 6 months
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gorgeous can we get bombshell reader and Spencer May be the first time he’s snappy with her bc he’s stressed and she’s just so taken aback and May be even tears up? And then just a fluffy ending with Spencer apologizing
thank you for requesting! fem, 2.2k
Spencer Reid is extra kissable when he's frowning. Button up and no suit jacket, sleeves pushed past his elbows and hair on the shorter side, he holds a certain confidence in his hands where they're tucked in his pockets. Sure of himself, and clearly agitated. 
You're always on his side; you don't think twice about easing into the conference room to see what's wrong. 
"Hey," you say with a slight lilt to your tone. You're always on his side, and always flirting. "What's wrong?" 
"Why does something have to be wrong?" he asks. 
Not mean. Not light. Somewhere in the solid middle, his gaze loyal to the laptop on the desk he stands behind. You step close enough to smell the subtle scent of his cologne, wondering if he can smell your perfume in turn, and if it's one he likes. You try to touch his hand and he takes the desk into his grip instead, leaning forward, out of reach. 
"That's not what I meant to convey," you say, still flirting. You're not stupid, you realise his mood, but you're hoping it's somebody else's fault. "But if you aren't happy to see me then I'd definitely suggest there was something wrong." 
"I'm just trying to figure something out." 
This close, to your own credit, Spencer usually trips up. He's been getting better as you've grown closer, your 'torturing' —as the team likes to call it— only prompting the occasional blush or stammer. You don't flirt with Spencer to torture him no matter what anyones says and you never have, you flirt with him because he deserves to be complimented. He's andsome, intelligent, and courageous. What others might miss you see in blaring neon lights: he's a catch. You intend on making your intentions known, and if that means playing the long game or the slow burn, that's okay. You like to dance. 
You put yourself between him and the laptop screen. He can still see it if he cranes his neck, and he does. "You look a little tired, handsome. Looking at a screen all day will hurt you in the end. Neck aches, shoulder cramps, eye strain. Though I can't help with the latter, the former…" His arm is solid under your hand, your fingertips running along the ridge of a stark vein. 
He doesn't quite flinch away, but he moves quickly enough to startle you, lamenting, "Could you give me some space, please?" 
That's all well and good, you rush to do as he's asked and step back because the very last thing you want is to make him uncomfortable and his voice is frankly acidic, but everything is moving too quickly, you're not as aware as you should be —you smash your hand backwards into a cold cup of coffee and knock it straight into the lap of Spencer's laptop. 
"No," you gasp, grabbing the cup before the entirety of it can empty. Coffee wells between the keys and you go to grab it to– well, to do something. 
"Stop it!" Spencer shouts, voice sharp as a knife. "You always do this," —quieter, venomous— "you can't help yourself." 
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I would answer you if I had the time. I'll be busy rescuing my hard drive before an entire month of work is wasted thanks to your dire need for attention." 
He slips around you and stalks out the door, coffee dripping from the corner of his laptop in a sorry trail that shines in the fluorescent lights. 
Your first rush of tears are driven by indignation; it was an accident, you didn't mean to do that, why would you ever do that? But the second, more encompassing rush is a hot mixture of shame and guilt. What have you done? 
You take a hesitant step toward the door but don't bother following him. I'll make things worse, you think, bringing a hand to your face. Makeup marrs your hand as you wipe your cheeks. You stare down at the stains for a long, long time. 
I'll apologise, you think eventually, rubbing at the mascara like soot on your palm. Just as soon as I look okay again. 
You don't want Spencer or anyone to see you upset. You wear your makeup and your confidence for yourself, not to hide any insecurity but to embolden yourself, to be yourself. But to get to your desk you'd have to leave the conference room bared as you are, and you'd have to face Spencer, and the second option brings more tears. 
This is all so messy, and it's your fault. 
I'm such an idiot. I'm exactly what he thinks of me. 
You sit in the chair furthest from the door with a pack of tissues from the cubby and rub your hot cheeks dry, streaks of mascara in the shapes of your fingertips like soot left behind. It's sitting that gets you —the shock of tears at being shouted at by someone you care about amplifies into a distress you can't explain. It's stupid, it's stupid. You press your face into your hands and curl in on yourself at the table, ears ringing. I'm so, so stupid. 
The inside of Spencer's lip is bleeding, metallic on his tongue. He's white hot annoyance all the way to Penelope's office, choked as he tells her he needs her help. 
"Spencer?" she said. "What happened? Are you okay?" 
He realises what he's done. "Please, Garcia, can you do something? I really need to go." 
He doesn't hear her response beyond her surprised but emphatic Sure, spinning on his heel to walk back the way he came. He rubs at his temple, moving between a slow trudge and a speed walk as he assesses the damage of what he's said. What did he say? your dire need for attention. 
Your sniffing is something out of his fucking nightmares. Who does he think he is? You're sitting exactly where he left you next to that half empty coffee cup, a tissue scrunched in your trembling hands, visible in the small glass window of the door. You must be thinking of what he's said to have missed the sound of his footsteps, or perhaps he's left you too upset to want to look up. 
He sees the moment a sob works through you, watches you hold your breath in a painful effort to keep it down, raising the tissue to your eyes and catching your tears before they fall. You're doing a lacklustre job despite your efforts, the oily shine of mascara iridescent on your cheeks. Or maybe that's tear tracks. It's hard to tell. 
Spencer fights with himself. He doesn't know if deserves to come running back or if it would be more fair to send JJ or Derek in to comfort you. 
"You made your bed," his mom would say, not without affection. "You have to lie in it." 
Spencer squeezes his eyes closed to push away the memory, surveying the damage he's done carefully as he crosses the threshold back into the conference room. Your head lifts at the sound of the door, your stammer visible before you speak, "Spence– Spencer. Is your laptop okay? Did I break it? I'm so sorry." 
Gideon would tell Spencer to be nicer. Hotch would say Reid in that stern shade of voice that's half disapproval and half fondness. They'd both tell him to be better, but neither of them have ever had to see you as you look now, tearstained and sorry, eyes wide with worry but shoulders tense. He has his role models, and yet none of them could possibly give him a way to apologise that could ever make up for they way he's made you feel. 
Little dramatic, Morgan would say. Start with a hug, loverboy. Can't go wrong with a hug. 
He should ask but he doesn't, a second transgression against you. Spencer pushes past chair and the sodden circle of carpet to your chair, pausing in case you're going to tell him to shove it. You lick your lips. "Did I break it?" you ask, as though resigned for a yes  
He can't temper that amount of self-hatred on you. It doesn't suit you. He much prefers you the way you like to be, confident in everything, flirty and funny and soft, in both touch and touches. He takes your face into a careful hand, tilting it toward the light and weary of your shallow exhale. "I…" He begins and ends, stroking your tacky cheek with his index finger, as though brushing away an eyelash. If it were real he'd say make a wish, and you would wish for him or some similar sweetness, salacious smile to boot, or earnestness fit to fill a mountain. I wish you'd realise how pretty you are and stop denying me the pleasure of a beautiful boyfriend, you'd croon. 
His fingers collect at your jaw and slip behind your ear as he cleans your skin with the side of his thumb. You lean into the touch, slashing his hesitancy in two. 
"Sorry," he says, pulling your head toward his neck gently as he leans down to hold you. "I'm sorry. Don't be upset, please. Don't be upset " 
"I'm an idiot–" 
"No," he says, with the facts to back his denial. "I'm an idiot, I should never have upset you like this–"
"I broke your computer, it's just like you said–" 
"I shouldn't have–" 
"–I'm so needy I could've ruined all your hard work," you say, wriggling with guilt like you attempt to pull away. 
Spencer really doesn't want to let you go now he has you, not until he's sure you'll stay in one piece. "If it's ruined, it's my fault for failing to back it up." 
He should tell you that he's sorry for what he said. He knew it wasn't right he moment it escaped him, to speak to you like that, and accuse you of what he did. He basically called you selfish, uncaring. He implied it and worse, and for what? An accident? A mis-step that he practically forced you into? 
"I never should've said that to you," he says, breaking his hug to crouch in front front you, searching blindly for your hand as he holds eye contact, looking up. You deign to frown down. "And I walked away. And you're crying," —his voice fries with sympathy— "because of me." 
Your hand is limp in his. "I'm sorry," he says. 
"It's okay." You sniffle and nod, lips struggling into a smile. 
"It's not okay." 
"Well, I hit your coffee over, so we're even." 
"You accidentally spilled my drink, you didn't deserve to be mocked." 
"Spence…" Your eyes half-lidded, you wince down at the cradle of his hand where it holds yours. "Did I break it?" 
"I don't know. I got to Garcia's office and I knew I did the wrong thing, so I came back." 
You swallow audibly. "I just wanted to make you feel better." 
"I know, angel." He stands again as your eyes well with tears to hug you, kissing the top of your head. "I'm sorry. That was all me, okay? I shouldn't have snapped at you." 
What follows is agony. Spencer patting your back through a panicked bubble of tears, wretched in knowing he caused it, and worse is the look you give him as he wipes your messed up make up away in want of a mirror, like you're grateful. 
"Does it look really bad?" 
"N–no. You look really pretty," he says. 
"Are my eyes puffy?"
A little. "No. You look great." He can't apologise anymore– it won't help you feel better now, it'll just assuage his own worry. What you need is a different reassurance. "It's hard not looking at you, sometimes, you look that nice. But you know that already." 
"I don't mean to do that. I didn't mean to." 
Spencer puts his hand above your heart. "I know you didn't. I really, really shouldn't have said it. I was being cranky and I struck out like a kid." 
"...You're not just saying I look nice to get back in the good books, are you?" you ask. 
Spencer leans in, nearly nose to nose with you. "Of course not." 
You tilt your head as though you might kiss him. He knows you won't and he's delighted anyways. It means you're feeling okay. He's nearly forgiven, or, at the very least, you're not actively upset. "I thought I liked seeing you pissed off, but now I'm not so sure." 
"It's not a good look on me," he murmurs. "But it looks great on you, if you want to get angry with me."
"Well now I can't. I know it's what you want." 
"Can I give you a hug?" he asks. 
You drop all your acts and slide your arms around his neck. He wraps you up slowly, one arm at a time, careful to put all the pressure exactly where you like it. 
"That feels nice," you mumble. 
He bends into you and rubs your back. "Yeah?" 
"Don't," you warn. 
He draws a shape into your back with his fingers, slow, tiny things that make you squirm. "Don't what?" 
"You're tickling me." You don't sound unhappy about it. 
"What?" he asks. "I can't hear you over the sound of me being a huge jackass. Sorry, angel." 
Your giggle is honey into his shoulder, sticky and sluggish as his circles turn to stars.
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nickywhoisi · 1 year
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Okay I was gonna go without saying anything about this, but...I caved. I was planning to go my whole life without knowing anything about what really happens in the Mario Illumination movie, but I both got curious one time, and then just today, I had a trailer thrown in my face. Rant under the cut if you want to know my thoughts.
I could have skipped, but my damned curiosity got in the way of my mind. And now I feel like my curiosity in any IP I cherish is getting so irrecoverably punished. Because I saw a Luma, or this fake luma with a mouth, saying the most horrifying visceral things that I know do not belong in a kid's movie. "More meat for the grinder..." "The sweet release of death." In a way that did not convey some cheesy edge, but an actual declaration of violence through the screen. Like that character wad adressing all the viewers, and not at all in contextually appropriate ways. The disturbia, the disassociation i felt wss like reading a horrible mario fanfic but the author was a maladjusted teenager who was earnesy trying to threaten someone they know by invoking death words and mental images too gruesome for the material. If you've seen it, I am sorry, and you maybd have an idea of what I mean.
Just...between this and Bowigi, I am truly never spending money on a movie again. I can't. I just can't condone this. Nintendo has shat the bed for greenlighting this, I feel uncomfortable about how much responsibility Miyamoto and Charles Martinet have in these choices, I feel a deep chasm within myself being cast out from existence and being betrayed, and I wonder for what purpose did I reach out and connect with the Super Mario Bros as a series if somewhere down the line I was not to be repaid for that loyalty. I want Nintendo to just be a game company again. I want my most fond memory of completing Mario Galaxy to be honoured, not shat upon with Spark of Hope and this. Some people who I had respected were surely there, and someone had said yes to all of this...when they should have said no. I hate this so much. I have never known such engulfing hatred as this, and I lived under the thumb of an entire cabal of narcissistic relatives. But I made it out of that, somewhat! What about this? How can i possibly escape and cut ties with what I chose and what provided me such happiness for so long in my life? When did we all decide to stop having standards, and really ask for only the best renditions of what we know to be in our movies? I want Mario to remain pure, and not have that disgusting Pratt voice. I want Luigi and Peach to remain pure too, and not have wrong voices of their own. I knew Illumination was wrong to be collabing with the one company I've cared about the most. I want everyone to stop putting Bowser into uncomfortable forced relations with the human characters. I never liked how Peach was always shipped in porn-y ways with Bowser, and it is no better with Luigi. It may be even worse because I always saw him as so immensely pure a character, cut off from that! It's like crack shipping gone wrong! And do not get me started on the existential travesty I went through having to go through Bowsette.
WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU ALL DOING TO ME, YOURSELVES, AND EVERYONE.
#I lived because Nintendo always struck me as a creator driven company#they made videogames and creative developers are the ones who make videogames so they're the ones who I wanted to work with#I thought for a long time they got the say in their organization and everything was fun there#Or that whatever excecutives were doing didn't seem like anything so detrimental in comparison to the projects and art being made#I even had my yearbook mentiin that my dream was to work as some kind of designer at Nintendo...to be a part of what I loved so much#And everytime I bought a game I believed the creative teams were getting directly supported#Now over recent years I saw the paradigm shifting to business suddenly having mire control over everything instead of the creator#The very reason nintendo as an entity has even stuck around to be cared about#Should the creators not be the ones directly compensated for their good work? And the fans also compensated well for their loyalty similar?#But now I hear even nintendo has become a corporation...businessman driven...controlled by execs pathological money addiction...#The devs and creators slaves worked to the bone for barely anything...INVESTORS being a cancer within not caring about anythin but money 2#And now an illuminati named company bastardizing the visage of everything I love in the name of money and attention stunts#without any care about the true history of what it is or who it affects connected to that#I.e. me#I will remain a fan of Mario and the gang#but THEY were always my real friends#I thought their parent creators were better than the rest#had their heads on straight#Turns out this whole time I was wrong#They had moments in the past that I should have paid attention ti#Once again it's jyst a sad display of a visually beautiful pile of out of touch worthless garbage that no one sane would invest anything in#Not time not money not emotional connection not spiritual value not nothin#Because Nintendo was my friend once...but fell prey to money addiction and will never recover now#Like all corps...they sell everything for their fix#But what makes me sad is we're not gonna cut him off...we're just going to feed him and nothing will get better now#If I meet Miyamoto at a convention I think I will deck him#the truth spoke#I need to lie down this is all too horrifying I'm not okay with anything except trains rn#A star has been lost and my spirit dies#I feel like I'm living in a limbo land where nothing feels real or true like it once did
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luviestarz · 1 month
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park jisung fic recs!
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✰ drunk jisung is clingy… and kiss-driven - @asteroidsung (you didn’t take bestfriend!jisung to be an affectionate drunk, thinking he would be the type to be sleepy and quiet. clearly, you’re mistaken. and oh how good it feels to be wrong.)
✰ Heart Band-Aids - @tynct (you and jisung separate from the others at an amusement, and he buys you heart band-aids)
✰ HAUNT ME, BABY! — PJS - @ukiyoexo (when you see a ghost, you’re supposed to be scared right? yeah, that’s what jisung thought too until he met you. a night spent in boredom leads you to lighting random candles and attempting to summon a ghost. you never expected it to work — or for the spirit to be so cute.)
✰ 8 letters | park jisung - @xiaodejunletsact (4 years ago, you and jisung’s long term friendship came to an abrupt end. now in senior year, the two of you find yourselves being forced together again by your mothers. suddenly, jisung begins to ask himself what is more important: his reputation or you.)
✰ sweeter than honey. - @luvdsc (you and jisung are too busy being the biggest simps for each other that neither one realizes that, well, both of you are the biggest simps for each other. or alternatively, diamonds (and park jisung) are a girl’s best friend.)
✰ fwb!park jisung x reader - @jenosbigtoe (fwb!jisung but he desperately wants to make you his so he goes the extra mile to show u how much he really wants you)
✰ perv!jisung x reader, braces - @neocentral
✰ Too Young - @loudstan (You thought avoiding Jisung after what happened during his first rut would make the problem go away (SPOILER ALERT: it didn't.)
✰ at midnight with you - @hyuckbeam (your boyfriend just recently got his driver's license, and boy, was he adamant to take you for a ride (with you being just as eager as him).
✰ DO IT AGAIN - @taexoxosgf (your brother’s best friend can never get you alone. that’s why he won’t miss an opportunity— even if your brother’s on the other side of the walls.)
✰ dance practice ; 박지성 - @martiniblues (with you and jisung’s time running thin due to his schedules, you decide to go visit him at practice. when the two of you finally have some time alone, jisung thinks this is the perfect time to mess with you.)
✰ texts w/ bf!jisung! - @haespoir
✰ flirty bf texts. - @ohmygs-blog
✰ FULL MOON — PARK JISUNG - @moonjella (your boyfriend, jisung has his rut and has been avoiding you all day. for the first time his rut has aligned with a full moon making it much more powerful than usual. he's afraid of hurting you, but you show him just how strong you can be and how much of him you can take.)
✰ SCORE THAT GOAL! — smau - @lqfiles (after your college had announced that all the students were required to join a club and attend it twice a week, you were planning on either a) dropping out, or b) join the art club and pretend to be sick most of the times. that was before you discovered that park jisung is a long time member of the football team. change in plans: you LOVE football.)
✰ Teach Me || P.JS - @ihaechans (It's been about ten months since you and Jisung started dating, and not once has he fucked you properly. Yes, he's fucked you multiple times, but you're always on top riding him, or simply using him as you please, leaving him no room to fuck you how he wants to. Finally, he musters the courage to talk to you about it, and the outcome makes him wish he'd done it sooner.)
✰ jealousy | pjs - @heyjwi (your boyfriend loved watching you perform but today something was different. that angered expression and glaring eyes, what’s wrong with him?)
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forumbusiness · 1 year
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Web Design & Development Company Dubai
Web Design & Development Company Dubai
Meridian IT Solution is Best Web Development Company Dubai.We have a dedicated team of web developers ready to work with you to make your business accessible through an engaging and functional website. Our website design specialists transform your vision into reality, creating user-friendly, responsive, and interesting websites. Web Design & Development Company Dubai, #1 Web Development Company Dubai Meridian is a Web Design & Development Company Dubai, Offers services in Web Hosting, Web Design & Development Company Dubai.
We provide highly specialized web development services with a broad base and business-driven approach. We are a selected Web development Company Dubai and our development experts provide services including SEO, Mobile App Development, Ecommerce development, and so on. Meridian IT Solutions also offers user-friendly website development and also a well-known and Best Web Development Company Dubai.
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gcssolution · 2 years
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https://gamechangingsolution.com
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pucksandpower · 7 months
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Max Verstappen x Leclerc!Reader - Social Media AU
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formulagossip added to their story
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f1wagupdates
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Liked by lightsoutmax, verstappenupdates, and 152,836 others
f1wagupdates Max Verstappen spotted leaving his hotel with a mystery woman this morning after celebrating winning his third World Championship last night. According to sources, the two partied together with the team and friends at a club following his victory before heading back to the hotel. Her face is hidden but rumor has it this could be a new romance for the World Champ. Looks like Max is enjoying the spoils of another successful season!
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lightsoutmax probably just a random groupie, max isn’t the relationship type
dutchlioness no way that’s a groupie
f1wagupdates i’m inclined to agree, they look pretty serious!
formulanone am i crazy or does that look like y/n leclerc to anyone else?
redbulletin you’re crazy
gridgossip i mean i wouldn’t be surprised. i bet this has been going on for a while between them! it would explain how she got the CTO job out of nowhere
f1girlie or she got it because she’s qualified and was literally trained by adrian newey to take over for him? it’s 2024, leave the misogyny at the door
maddermax i don’t think max would get involved with someone from his team
circuitqueen she looks so familiar but i can’t place her! it’s driving me crazy
verstappenupdates whoever she is, i need more details! our world champion’s love life is suddenly looking very interesting 😍
survivetodrive you need to learn how to stay out of drivers’ business
rblover for real! let the man live
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maxverstappen1
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Liked by y/n_leclerc, redbullracing, and 2,094,617 others
maxverstappen1 Five World Championships!
This one feels extra special because I get to celebrate with the love of my life who has been by my side for over three incredible years now ❤️
So I want to dedicate this championship to Y/N
Seeing Y/N thrive as Red Bull’s Chief Technical Officer and pursue her passion for motorsport after everything she has been through has been so special. Her brilliance and determination inspire me daily, both on and off the track. And her contributions to the team have been invaluable to our success. I am so lucky to have such an incredible partner to share these championships with
Winning races and championships is great but sharing my life with someone as smart, driven and caring as Y/N is the greatest gift I could ever ask for. I truly am the luckiest guy in the world. I can’t wait to see what the future holds for us both. Here’s to many more years of continuing to chase our dreams together!
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redbullracing our world champion found his perfect match! wishing you both continued success and happiness 🤩
christianhorner so proud of you two. the ultimate power couple!
danielricciardo i knew something was going on there. congrats you two!
maxverstappen1 you don’t have to pretend like you didn’t know about us
y/n_leclerc you literally third-wheeled our last date night … and the one last month … and the one over summer break
y/n_leclerc i love you with all my heart, champion! thank you for always being my biggest supporter. so blessed to have you in my life 🥰
charles_leclerc how could you do this, y/n? after everything our family did for you?
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verstappenupdates our guy is all grown up 🥹 you two are goals!
f1wagupdates omg! when did this happen??? why has it been a secret for so long?
lightsoutmax pretty sure they got together the year before y/n was hired by red bull
redbulletin and they probably kept it a secret because people would have found a way to twist it into something negative
officialorangearmy relationship goals to the max! you two are perfect together 🧡
y/n_leclerc
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Liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing, and 473,825 others
y/n_leclerc What a season! Winning a double championship for the second time feels so surreal. I am overwhelmed with gratitude for my incredible team at Red Bull Racing who made this possible through their tireless hard work. We did it 🏆
And most of all, I am grateful for my incredible partner. Max, you’ve supported me every step of the way, encouraging me to follow my dreams and become who I was meant to be. You showed me what true unconditional love feels like
I am where I am now because of you. Your spirit pushes me to achieve greatness. Your kindness lifted me up when I needed it most. Your smile keeps me going on tough days. I couldn’t ask for a better teammate in life ❤️
The future is so bright for us. I can’t wait to see what we create together next. I love you! Let’s keep aiming for the stars ✨
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maxverstappen1 you make me so proud every day! loving and winning with you feels incredible. can’t wait for the rest of our lives together ❤️
redbullracing the ultimate teammate on and off the track! you two are unstoppable 👊
christianhorner red bull is lucky to have such a power pair leading our team. more glory to come!
danielricciardo you guys are relationship goals! congrats champs
charles_leclerc how long until you throw away this “fairytale” like you did our family?
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y/n_leclercfanpage our inspiring queen found her king! you give us hope that dreams do come true
f1girlie not me literally crying tears of joy 😭 they are so perfect together
womeninmotorsport seeing powerful women thrive in f1 gives me life 👏
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shyhaya · 15 days
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Hii! Can i plzzzplz request hcs/ or scenario of Barou,Rin, Kunigami and isagi liking the manager of their schools soccer team :DD???
Hi darling, here's your request! please forgive me for taking so long
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Oh Wait, Am I In Love? [Barou Shoei, Itoshi Rin, Kunigami Rensuke & Isagi Yoichi x GN! Reader / SFW]
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❯── Barou ──❮
What an interesting situation.
I don't think he would notice his own feelings towards you until he's in too deep.
His teammates certainly noticed before him but they were all scared of telling him anything.
Nevertheless, maybe he heard them talking about his 'soft' if we can call it that attitude towards you.
He did treat you like a peasant, like everyone else, but he actually listened to you when you talked.
Plus, you got to be around him and even tease him sometimes and not even once he reacted brashly towards you!
Everyone in the team is shocked.
When he finally realizes this fact, his entire view of you changed slightly.
Now he understood why he tolerated your presence and even liked to hang out with you.
He was a bit clueless on how to approach you on this topic, but he's driven by the thought of possibly having even more of your attention.
Congratulations! You've been promoted from useful peasant to the King's consort! :3
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❯── Rin ──❮
This one's tough.
Rin can be dense sometimes, but he was the first one to realize he fancied you.
It wasn't even obvious to anybody else, but he noticed the slight changes. How he found you attractive and not a lukewarm like the others.
He liked your advice and actually followed it, and your presence always helped him concentrate or not during practice and even real games.
But what is Rin Itoshi if not a stubborn brat?
He wouldn't tell you about his feelings right away.
If someone notices his almost kind attitude towards you he would deny it or just say it isn't anyone's business.
Soon though, he gets jealous of the rest of team because they're all nice and close to you.
This would be enough for the dam he built to contain his feelings to break.
He had a feeling you liked him too, so there's no way he's letting you go.
Good luck.
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❯── Kunigami ──❮
Oh, Rensuke baby, love, honey- I'll stop now.
He's clueless at first.
You're really nice to everyone, so he naturally gets along with you.
He doesn't find different how he's soon hanging out with you often he's like a big puppy!
During practice he's focused and still can't help but to glance at your direction, finding you adorable as you watch the practice match and how your eyes sparkle as they meet his.
Every time someone from the team mentions you, he immediately perks up.
His teammates realize this and they are the ones who make him realize.. he did like you, but in a whole different way than the rest of them did.
After that he gets a bit flustered every time you're close or when you get worried if he gets hurt during a game or practice.
He's an honest guy though, so he would tell you. No beating around the bush.
He's hopeful that you'll accept him, and can't wait to have you his own I accept my love, I'll even marry you if you want-
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❯── Isagi ──❮
Man, he realized his feelings for you fast.
He was kinda clueless at first, but after analyzing your interactions and how he couldn't help but to admire you, he accepted he was smitten.
He's the one who's all flustered when you're being your usual kind self and asking him if he's alright.
Stutters a bit more and is distracted by how pretty you are.
It's adorable how he tries to act normal but he's also trying to compliment you and maybe give you some clues about how he feels.
All of his teammates notice this and soon they're all teasing him every time they see him looking at you during practice.
He wants to test the waters first, figure out if you like him before he confesses.
If he notices even a slight chance of you liking him back, then he will take the chance. It's what s striker does anyway.
He's so sweet when he actually tells you.
Please say yes, this guy spent all night thinking of all the possible scenarios of how his confesión would go.
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projectdark-if · 9 months
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Project DARK is an 18+ character-driven SPY IF inspired by a rather eventful weekend binging on Mission Impossible movies. It can be described as Suicide Squad meets Mission Impossible. MC, a retired villain, will be a new operative in a team to bring down their old best friend.
You were a jewel thief and hired mercenary, outsourcing your skills at thievery and espionage for all types of...shady characters. Yeah, you were aiding in the possible destruction of the world in exchange for money, but details, right?
You were the best in the business alongside your partner, Spider. You're not supposed to get close to people in this business, but Spider somehow weaseled into your life and became your best friend.
But then they died, killed by operatives of Mission Shadow, the one organization that has been hunting you down since day one. You decided to retire, changing your name and identity in an attempt to make an honest and private life of what you have left.
Until Project DARK finds you.
Project DARK: an experiment to put the most together the most skilled shadow villains to train and defeat the biggest threat they've faced.
Your best friend, whom you thought was dead.
They need you and your skills. You know Spider best. No longer are you the villain, but a Project DARK operative joining as the newest recruit to the ranks.
Good luck.
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Customize your operative from appearance, personality, gender identity.
Tailor your past: were you a merciful villain, or a merciless one? Did you make enemies or try to make friends? Liked for being kind and easy to work with or hated for being the literal worst?
Romance members of your team or your target, with some having special relationships.
Choose what kind of operative you'll be and shape the dynamic of the team.
Try not to fall into old habits and get sucked into the dark world of crime. You left that life for a reason.
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THE TARGET | Spider [m or f]: your old best friend and the new target. They've been busy since their 'death' and have grown a network of connections that can dismantle the world as you know it. They're apparently planning something big. Big enough that the organizations of the world created Project DARK to take them down.
Special romance: can have had previous thing with them that was never confronted or simply have been best friends.
THE LEADER | Elias/Elena Steel: one of the best operatives, personally recommended by MI6. The only non-villain on the team, E is also appointed leader and doesn't like you much, considering the fact that a mission of yours ended with their closest partner dead. While you may have not pulled the trigger, E blames you all the same.
Strict and as cold as steel, it makes sense why E is the one with the team on their shoulders.
Special romance: enemies to lovers. E hates your guts.
THE SECOND IN COMMAND | Nick/Nina Sharma: second-in-command and a retired illegal weapons dealer, N is, surprisingly, E's closest friend. N has long given up that life, but before their new work as a operative, you knew them as a distant associate. You two have crossed paths on multiple occasions, most of them happening with them almost killing you or vice versa. N can't help but be nice, but you can tell they're not really a fan of you.
Special romance: may have had a lapse in judgement and have had a one night stand...or multiple.
THE BRAINS | Zane/Zena Omari: One of the most skilled hackers and a familiar face on the FBIs most wanted list, Z is on the team in order to be able to go back home without getting arrested. Oddly enough, they're not what the media says they are. Friendly, warm, comedic. Z seems to be having too much of a good time, even with the circumstances surrounding their presence.
THE WEAPONS EXPERT | Luca/Lucia Cruz: L doesn't know you much, and doesn't care to. Hyper-focused on the mission, L's disinterest in you is a breath of fresh air. You don't know what they did and how they got here, but you do know they were facing a life sentence. Still, things aren't always what they seem.
Maybe it won't stay that way.
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The long, bloody lineage of private equity's looting
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Tomorrow (June 3) at 1:30PM, I’m in Edinburgh for the Cymera Festival on a panel with Nina Allen and Ian McDonald.
Monday (June 5) at 7:15PM, I’m in London at the British Library with my novel Red Team Blues, hosted by Baroness Martha Lane Fox.
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Fans of the Sopranos will remember the “bust out” as a mob tactic in which a business is taken over, loaded up with debt, and driven into the ground, wrecking the lives of the business’s workers, customers and suppliers. When the mafia does this, we call it a bust out; when Wall Street does it, we call it “private equity.”
It used to be that we rarely heard about private equity, but then, as national chains and iconic companies started to vanish, this mysterious financial arrangement popped up with increasing frequency. When a finance bro’s presentation on why Olive Garden needed to be re-orged when viral, there was a lot off snickering about the decline of a tacky business whose value prop was unlimited carbs. But the bro was working for Starboard Value, a hedge fund that specialized in buhying out and killing off companies, pocketing billions while destroying profitable businesses.
https://www.salon.com/2014/09/17/the_real_olive_garden_scandal_why_greedy_hedge_funders_suddenly_care_so_much_about_breadsticks/
Starboard Value’s game was straightforward: buy a business, load it with debt, sell off its physical plant — the buildings it did business out of — pay itself, and then have the business lease back the buildings, bleeding out money until it collapsed. They pulled it with Red Lobster,and the point of the viral Olive Garden dis track was to soften up the company for its own bust out.
The bust out tactic wasn’t limited to mocking middlebrow family restaurants. For years, the crooks who ran these ops did a brisk trade in blaming the internet. Why did Sears tank? Everyone knows that the 19th century business was an antique, incapable of mounting a challenge in the age of e-commerce. That was a great smokescreen for an old-fashioned bust out that saw corporate looters make off with hundreds of millions, leaving behind empty storefronts and emptier pension accounts for the workers who built the wealth the looters stole:
https://prospect.org/economy/vulture-capitalism-killed-sears/
Same goes for Toys R Us: it wasn’t Amazon that killed the iconic toy retailer — it was the PE bosses who extracted $200m from the chain, then walked away, hands in pockets and whistling, while the businesses collapsed and the workers got zero severance:
https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/business/wp/2018/06/01/how-can-they-walk-away-with-millions-and-leave-workers-with-zero-toys-r-us-workers-say-they-deserve-severance/
It’s a good racket — for the racketeers. Private equity has grown from a finance sideshow to Wall Street’s apex predator, and it’s devouring the real economy through a string of audactious bust outs, each more consequential and depraved than the last.
As PE shows that it can turn profitable businesses gigantic windfalls, sticking the rest of us with the job of sorting out the smoking craters they leave behind, more and more investors are piling in. Today, the PE sector loves a rollup, which is when they buy several related businesses and merge them into one firm. The nominal business-case for a rollup is that the new, bigger firm is more “efficient.” In reality, a rollup’s strength is in eliminating competition. When all the pet groomers, or funeral homes, or urgent care clinics for ten miles share the same owner, they can raise prices, lower wages, and fuck over suppliers.
They can also borrow. A quirk of the credit markets is that a standalone small business is valued at about 3–5x its annual revenues. But if that business is part of a large firm, it is valued at 10–20x annual turnover. That means that when a private equity company rolls up a comedy club, ad agency or water bottler (all businesses presently experiencing PE rollup), with $1m in annual revenues, it shows up on the PE company’s balance sheet as an asset worth $10–20m. That’s $10–20m worth of collateral the PE fund can stake for loans that let it buy and roll up more small businesses.
2.9 million Boomer-owned businesses, employing 32m people, are expected to sell in the next couple years as their owners retire. Most of these businesses will sell to PE firms, who can afford to pay more for them as a prelude to a bust out than anyone intending to operate them as a productive business could ever pay:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/16/schumpeterian-terrorism/#deliberately-broken
PE’s most ghastly impact is felt in the health care sector. Whole towns’ worth of emergency rooms, family practices, labs and other health firms have been scooped up by PE, which has spent more than $1t since 2012 on health acquisitions:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/17/the-doctor-will-fleece-you-now/#pe-in-full-effect
Once a health care company is owned by PE, it is significantly more likely to commit medicare fraud. It also cuts wages and staffing for doctors and nurses. PE-owned facilities do more unnecessary and often dangerous procedures. Appointments get shorter. The companies get embroiled in kickback scandals. PE-backed dentists hack away at children’s mouths, filling them full of root-canals.
https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/17/the-doctor-will-fleece-you-now/#pe-in-full-effect
The Healthcare Private Equity Association boasts that its members are poised to spend more than $3t to create “the future of healthcare.”
https://hcpea.org/#!event-list
As bad as PE is for healthcare, it’s worse for long-term care. PE-owned nursing homes are charnel houses, and there’s a particularly nasty PE scam where elderly patients are tricked into signing up for palliative care, which is never delivered (and isn’t needed, because the patients aren’t dying!). These fake “hospices” get huge payouts from medicare — and the patient is made permanently ineligible for future medicare, because they are recorded being in their final decline:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/26/death-panels/#what-the-heck-is-going-on-with-CMS
Every part of the health care sector is being busted out by PE. Another ugly PE trick, the “club deal,” is devouring the medical supply business. Club deals were huge in the 2000s, destroying rent-controlled housing, energy companies, Mervyn’s department stores, Harrah’s, and Old Country Joe. Now it’s doing the same to medical supplies:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/14/billionaire-class-solidarity/#club-deals
Private equity is behind the mass rollup of single-family homes across America. Wall Street landlords are the worst landlords in America, who load up your rent with junk fees, leave your home in a state of dangerous disrepair, and evict you at the drop of a hat:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/08/16/die-miete-ist-zu-hoch/#assets-v-human-rights
As these houses decay through neglect, private equity makes a bundle from tenants and even more borrowing against the houses. In a few short years, much of America’s desperately undersupplied housing stock will be beyond repair. It’s a bust out.
You know all those exploding trains filled with dangerous chemicals that poison entire towns? Private equity bust outs:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/04/up-your-nose/#rail-barons
Where did PE come from? How can these people look themselves in the mirror? Why do we let them get away with it? How do we stop them?
Today in The American Prospect, Maureen Tkacik reviews two new books that try to answer all four of these questions, but really only manage to answer the first three:
https://prospect.org/culture/books/2023-06-02-days-of-plunder-morgenson-rosner-ballou-review/
The first of these books is These Are the Plunderers: How Private Equity Runs — and Wrecks — America by Gretchen Morgenson and Joshua Rosner:
https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/These-Are-the-Plunderers/Gretchen-Morgenson/9781982191283
The second is Plunder: Private Equity’s Plan to Pillage America, by Brendan Ballou:
https://www.hachettebookgroup.com/titles/brendan-ballou/plunder/9781541702103/
Both books describe the bust out from the inside. For example, PetSmart — looted for $30 billion by RaymondSvider and his PE fund BC Partners — is a slaughterhouse for animals. The company systematically neglects animals — failing to pay workers to come in and feed them, say, or refusing to provide backup power to run during power outages, letting animals freeze or roast to death. Though PetSmart has its own vet clinics, the company doesn’t want to pay its vets to nurse the animals it damages, so it denies them care. But the company is also too cheap to euthanize those animals, so it lets them starve to death. PetSmart is also too cheap to cremate the animals, so its traumatized staff are ordered to smuggle the dead, rotting animals into random dumpsters.
All this happened while PetSmart’s sales increased by 60%, matched by growth in the company’s gross margins. All that money went to the bust out.
https://www.forbes.com/sites/antoinegara/2021/09/27/the-30-billion-kitty-meet-the-investor-who-made-a-fortune-on-pet-food/
Tkacik says these books show that we’re finally getting wise to PE. Back in the Clinton years, the PE critique painted the perps as sharp operators who reduced quality and jacked up prices. Today, books like these paint these “investors” as the monsters they are — crooks whose bust ups are crimes, not clever finance hacks.
Take the Carlyle Group, which pioneered nursing home rollups. As Carlyle slashed wages, its workers suffered — but its elderly patients suffered more. Thousands of Carlyle “customers” died of “dehydration, gangrenous bedsores, and preventable falls” in the pre-covid years.
https://www.washingtonpost.com/business/economy/opioid-overdoses-bedsores-and-broken-bones-what-happened-when-a-private-equity-firm-sought-profits-in-caring-for-societys-most-vulnerable/2018/11/25/09089a4a-ed14-11e8-baac-2a674e91502b_story.html
KKR, another PE monster, bought a second-hand chain of homes for mentally disabled adults from another PE company, then squeezed it for the last drops of blood left in the corpse. KKR cut wages to $8/hour and increased shifts to 36 hours, then threatened to have workers who went home early arrested and charged with “patient abandonment.” Many of these homes were often left with no staff at all, with patients left to starve and stew in their own waste.
PE loves to pick on people who can’t fight back: kids, sick people, disabled people, old people. No surprise, then, that PE loves prisons — the ultimate captive audience. HIG Capital is a $55b fund that owns TKC Holdings, who got the contract to feed the prisoners at 400 institutions. They got the contract after the prisons fired Aramark, owned by PE giant Warburg Pincus, whose food was so inedible that it provoked riots. TKC got a million bucks extra to take over the food at Michigan’s Kinross Correctional Facility, then, incredibly, made the food worse. A chef who refused to serve 100 bags of rotten potatoes (“the most disgusting thing I’ve seen in my life”) was fired:
https://www.wzzm13.com/article/news/local/michigan/prison-food-worker-i-was-fired-for-refusing-to-serve-rotten-potatoes/69-467297770
TKC doesn’t just operate prison kitchens — it operates prison commissaries, where it gouges prisoners on junk food to replace the inedible slop it serves in the cafeteria. The prisoners buy this food with money they make working in the prison workshops, for $0.10–0.25/hour. Those workshops are also run by TKC.
Tkacic traces private equity back to the “corporate raiders” of the 1950s and 1960s, who “stealthily borrowed money to buy up enough shares in a small or midsized company to control its biggest bloc of votes, then force a stock swap and install himself as CEO.”
The most famous of these raiders was Eli Black, who took over United Fruit with this gambit — a company that had a long association with the CIA, who had obligingly toppled democratically elected governments and installed dictators friendly to United’s interests (this is where the term “banana republic” comes from).
Eli Black’s son is Leon Black, a notorious PE predator. Leon Black got his start working for the junk-bonds kingpin Michael Milken, optimizing Milken’s operation, which was the most terrifying bust out machine of its day, buying, debt-loading and wrecking a string of beloved American businesses. Milken bought 2,000 companies and put 200 of them through bankruptcy, leaving the survivors in a brittle, weakened state.
It got so bad that the Business Roundtable complained about the practice to Congress, calling Milken, Black, et al, “a small group is systematically extracting the equity from corporations and replacing it with debt, and incidentally accumulating major wealth.”
Black stabbed Milken in the back and tanked his business, then set out on his own. Among the businesses he destroyed was Samsonite, “a bankrupt-but-healthy company he subjected to 12 humiliating years of repeated fee extractions, debt-funded dividend payments, brutal plant closings, and hideous schemes to induce employees to buy its worthless stock.”
The money to buy Samsonite — and many other businesses — came through a shadowy deal between Black and John Garamendi, then a California insurance commissioner, now a California congressman. Garamendi helped Black buy a $6b portfolio of junk bonds from an insurance company in a wildly shady deal. Garamendi wrote down the bonds by $3.9b, stealing money “from innocent people who needed the money to pay for loved ones’ funerals, irreparable injuries, etc.”
Black ended up getting all kinds of favors from powerful politicians — including former Connecticut governor John Rowland and Donald Trump. He also wired $188m to Jeffrey Epstein for reasons that remain opaque.
Black’s shady deals are a marked contrast with the exalted political circles he travels in. Despite private equity’s obviously shady conduct, it is the preferred partner for cities and states, who buy everything from ambulance services to infrastructure from PE-owned companies, with disastrous results. Federal agencies turn a blind eye to their ripoffs, or even abet them. 38 state houses passed legislation immunizing nursing homes from liability during the start of the covid crisis.
PE barons are shameless about presenting themselves as upstanding cits, unfairly maligned. When Obama made an empty promise to tax billionaires in 2010, Blackstone founder SteveS chwarzman declared, “It’s a war. It’s like when Hitler invaded Poland in 1939.”
Since we’re on the subject of Hitler, this is a good spot to bring up Monowitz, a private-sector satellite of Auschwitz operated by IG Farben as a slave labor camp to make rubber and other materiel it supplied at a substantial markup to the wermacht. I’d never heard of Monowitz, but Tkacik’s description of the camp is chilling, even in comparison to Auschwitz itself.
Farben used slave laborers from Auschwitz to work at its rubber plant, but was frustrated by the logistics of moving those slaves down the 4.5m stretch of road to the facility. So the company bought 25,000 slaves — preferring children, who were cheaper — and installed them in a co-located death-camp called Monowitz:
https://www.commentary.org/articles/r-tannenbaum/the-devils-chemists-by-josiah-e-dubois-jr/
Monowitz was — incredibly — worse than Auschwitz. It was so bad, the SS guards who worked at it complained to Berlin about the conditions. The SS demanded more hospitals for the workers who dropped from beatings and overwork — Farben refused, citing the cost. The factory never produced a steady supply of rubber, but thanks to its gouging and the brutal treatment of its slaves, the camp was still profitable and returned large dividends to Farben’s investors.
Apologists for slavery sometimes claim that slavers are at least incentivized to maintain the health of their captive workforce. This was definitely not true of Farben. Monowitz slaves died on average after three months in the camp. And Farben’s subsidiary, Degesch, made the special Zyklon B formulation used in Auschwitz’s gas chambers.
Tkacik’s point is that the Nazis killed for ideology and were unimaginably cruel. Farben killed for money — and they were even worse. The banality of evil gets even more banal when it’s done in service to maximizing shareholder value.
As Farben historian Joseph Borkin wrote, the company “reduced slave labor to a consumable raw material, a human ore from which the mineral of life was systematically extracted”:
https://www.scribd.com/document/517797736/The-Crime-and-Punishment-of-I-G-Farben
Farben’s connection to the Nazis was a the subject of Germany’s Master Plan: The Story of Industrial Offensive, a 1943 bestseller by Borkin, who was also an antitrust lawyer. It described how Farben had manipulated global commodities markets in order to create shortages that “guaranteed Hitler’s early victories.”
Master Plan became a rallying point in the movement to shatter corporate power. But large US firms like Dow Chemical and Standard Oil waged war on the book, demanding that it be retracted. Borkin was forced into resignation and obscurity in 1945.
Meanwhile, in Nuremberg, 24 Farben executives were tried for their war crimes, and they cited their obligations to their shareholders in their defense. All but five were acquitted on this basis.
Seen in that light, the plunderers of today’s PE firms are part of a long and dishonorable tradition, one that puts profit ahead of every other priority or consideration. It’s a defense that wowed the judges at Nuremberg, so should we be surprised that it still plays in 2023?
Tkacik is frustrated that neither of these books have much to offer by way of solutions, but she understands why that would be. After all, if we can’t even close the carried interest tax loophole, how can we hope to do anything meaningful?
“Carried interest” comes up in every election cycle. Most of us assume it has something to do with “interest payments,” but that’s not true. The carried interest loophole relates to the “interest” that 16th-century sea captains had in their cargo. It’s a 600-year-old tax loophole that private equity bosses use to pay little or no tax on their billions. The fact that it’s still on the books tells you everything you need to know about whether our political class wants to do anything about PE’s plundering.
Notwithstanding Tkacik’s (entirely justified) skepticism of the weaksauce remedies proposed in these books, there is some hope of meaningful action. Private equity’s rollups are only possible because they skate under the $101m threshold for merger scrutiny. However, there is good — but unenforced — law that allows antitrust enforcers to block these mergers. This is the “incipiency standard” — Sec 7 of the Clayton Act — the idea that a relatively small merger might not be big enough to trigger enforcement action on its own, but regulators can still act to block it if it creates an incipient monopoly.
https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/16/schumpeterian-terrorism/#deliberately-broken
The US has a new crop of aggressive — fearless — top antitrust enforcers and they’ve been systematically reviving these old laws to go after monopolies.
That’s long overdue. Markets are machines for eroding our moral values: “In comparison to non-market decisions, moral standards are significantly lower if people participate in markets.”
https://web.archive.org/web/20130607154129/https://www.uni-bonn.de/Press-releases/markets-erode-moral-values
The crimes that monsters commit in the name of ideology pale in comparison to the crimes the wealthy commit for money.
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Catch me on tour with Red Team Blues in Edinburgh, London, and Berlin!
If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/06/02/plunderers/#farbenizers
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[Image ID: An overgrown graveyard, rendered in silver nitrate monochrome. A green-tinted businessman  with a moneybag in place of a head looms up from behind a gravestone. The right side of the image is spattered in blood.]
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fangirl-dot-com · 6 months
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Chapter 3 - Head out the Window
After you were allowed to leave the building, you and Vito headed back to the hotel. Your heart was racing at what seemed to be a million miles per hour. You could barely focus on anything. The radio was too noisy, but not loud enough at the same time. The usual calming effect of the car was not doing its job. Your finger nails found solace in picking at the loose skin around your nails. You hadn’t even felt the car stop until Vito said it was time to get out. 
Yet, when you looked up, the hotel building was nowhere in sight. 
“Do you just plan to drop me off and see if I make it back to the hotel alive?” you quipped. He shook his head before gesturing to the small shop that stood in front of you. The big words Ice Cream stood out in the neon lighting. 
“I thought a little celebration was due.” He shrugged his shoulders. On this inside, you were practically melting at the mention of ice cream. It had been entirely too long since you had some. Your diet always came first, but as of right now, you weren’t on one. Celebrations were in store. Yes, you had one more race weekend, but ice cream was more important. 
You and Vito walked inside, a little bell announcing your presence. The worker behind the counter looked as though he didn’t even want to be there. But, he took your orders quickly and you both were in and out in less than 10 minutes. 
Not wanting to get back into the car, you found a little table to sit at. Sure, the table and chairs were off balance and probably hadn’t been cleaned in years, but it worked for the time being. 
“I still can’t believe you got chocolate of all flavors. It’s literally so basic,” you berated him as you licked at your own ice cream cone. 
Vito gave you a look. “It is not. It is a classic. And says the one who got the most boring flavor of cookie dough with sprinkles.” 
“At least it tastes good. Do you just like it or are you a picky eater?” You squinted your eyes and gave a smile. You thought you had gotten the last laugh as you got back to your ice cream. But a cold sensation on your nose startled you. Vito leaned back, laughing hysterically, while holding his ice cream that had a nose-shaped dent in it. 
You couldn’t help but laugh with him too as you tried to shove your ice cream in his face. He was much quicker though and was able to evade your attacks. 
Your breathes evened out a couple of minutes later, and a comfortable silence enveloped the two of you. Until you inhaled sharply.  
“Why didn’t you tell me? About the contact.” You looked over, eyes boring into his. You wanted the truth and not some half-assed answers. But, you knew that he wouldn’t do that. Not about a discussion like this. 
He finished his ice cream before answering. 
“Because I know you. You would have driven yourself into the ground with training and overthinking if you had known there was a possibility that there might have been an offer.” 
You did not answer, because you knew he was right. If there was even a slight glimmer of hope for a 2024 seat, it didn’t even have to be with a big team, you would have gotten stuck in your head. The overthinking would have taken over, and it might have cost you your championship. 
“You’re one of the best drivers out there Y/n. You just need to realize that.” He put a hand on your shoulder as you turned to him. 
“Thank you. Again, for everything. I hope you know that this means I’m not getting rid of you.” You shone a smile at him. You couldn’t image a life without him. He was there for you for all of your accomplishments. What you didn’t know is that he felt the same way. Vito always thought that you were the daughter he never got. And he was thankful for you as well. 
“Never kid, never.” 
Your ice cream had dripped all over your hand by now. Sighing, you tried to clean up the mess. Soon enough, your ice cream and cone were gone. 
Vito looked over to you, “We better head back to the hotel. You have a couple of busy days coming up.” 
You only nodded as you used stood from the outside chair, the metal scraping against the concrete. 
“When do you think I’ll get to meet them?” you ask as you climb back into the car. 
“Meet who kid?” Vito responded as the car came to life. You quickly put on your seatbelt before he carefully pulled out of the parking spot. 
“You know…Max and Checo?” You nervously twirled your fingers. What would they think of you? You know that Checo wouldn’t have much thought, or would he – since you were the one taking his seat. Maybe he thought that Red Bull could have chosen better. 
Max was who you were most nervous about. His teammate would no longer be older than him, or have more experience. He would be paired with a rookie, in both experience and age. Six years younger and no previous chances in Formula 1. And to put a cherry on top, a female. All that he knew in a teammate, would be gone and reconstructed. 
“They’re both nice. I don’t think you’ll have any problems with either of them kid.” 
“Will I have to call Max, Mr. Verstappen? Since he’s older and such.” 
Vito let out a giant laugh, shoulders shaking as he pulled up to a red light. The bright crimson shone on two of you. 
Once he had stopped laughing, Vito was able to say, “No kid. I don’t think so.” 
You sighed in relief. They were older yes, but not that much older. Oscar was only two years older than you. However, you might have to call Fernando Mr. Alonso. The age gap was considerably larger. 
Would you even make friends on the grid? Or would they avoid you to stay out of the media. You bet that the moment you’re seen with one of them, dating rumors would spread. And you didn’t want to upset them, or the grid’s respective girlfriends. You shuddered at the thought. 
The rest of the drive was silent. You figured that tomorrow would go well. You would be fitted for a Red Bull suit and would be given the green light to drive your first F1 car. 
The first.
It had a nice ring to it. 
The drive continued on for a bit. You leaned up and pressed the power button for the radio. The distinct sound of “What Makes You Beautiful” filled the vehicle. Your grin grew as you started to sing the familiar lyrics. Vito smiled as well, more-so mouthing the words while you all but screeched. 
“BABY YOU LIGHT UP MY WORLD LIKE NO BODY ELSE!,” you sang along with the well-known boy band. Your window suddenly was rolled down. You had the grand idea to stick your head out the window.
“YOU DON’T KNOW, OH-OH, THAT’S WHAT MAKES YOU BEAUTIFUL!” The wind picked up your hair and pushed it back into your face. Sure, it was now sticking to your lip gloss, but right now you didn’t care. Until you pulled up to another red light, and there were multiple guys in the car next to you. You flashed an embarrassed smile before clamoring back into the car. Your finger could not find the button for the window any faster. 
Across from you, Vito had started laughing again with full body shakes. For the life of you, your window would not go up. Looking over, you could see Vito’s finger pressed down on the button for your window. You reached across the dash and swatted at his hand, desperately trying to get your window rolled up. 
Finally, the tinted thing slowly but surely reached the top of the window. You looked over at Vito with a look of betrayal. You reach over and hit his shoulder. He, in comparison, is still shaking with laughter. 
“You bitch!” you barely shouted, the words covered by giggles. Ok, it was kind of funny, but not really. “I literally just embarrassed myself in front of those boys.” 
“They probably thought you were very pretty,” he said, snickering. You could only look in disbelief at your manager. You refused to look back over until you knew that the car had definitely passed. Your arms were crossed and lip in a pout for the remainder of the drive. 
Vito looked over at you. “Don’t be like that kid. It was all in good fun.” 
You mumbled back, “For you sure.” The pout however was relaxed and a grin replaced it. You couldn’t be mad at him for very long. It had been a while since you were allowed to have a bit of fun. 
Winning races was fun, but that was your job, that took up most of your year and free time. You never noticed how far the drive way the first time. A yawn escaped your mouth and your hand quickly came up to cover it. You definitely needed to sleep well tonight.  
Thankfully, the car came to a halt in front of the hotel. Vito turned to you as you unbuckled your seatbelt. 
“You better get some good sleep. Tomorrow is going to be fun but exhausting.” 
You mocked a salute and said, “Sir, yes sir. You have a good night as well. See you in the morning?” 
“Yes, I will. Goodnight kid.” 
“Night Vito.” You shut the door and watched as he went to park the car. Why he didn’t use the complementary valet, you hadn’t a clue. But that wasn’t your problem. 
You were quickly let into the building once you scanned your card. The people at the front desk greeted you as you made your way to the elevator. It didn’t take long for it to ding, signaling your arrival to your floor. The pristine carpet led you to your white hotel room door. 
Using the card again to get into the room, you opened the door once the lock had whirred.
The sight of your bed almost had you in tears. The stress of today was now hitting you as you walked to the bed. Following in George Russel’s F1 intro footsteps, you put your arms out and fell face first into the soft top blanket. You could have honestly fallen asleep here, but you knew you needed to take off your makeup first. 
You let out a groan as your body protested moving. Your skin care and toiletries had already been set out, since you used them earlier to freshen up after the flight. 
Deciding not to do every single step to your skin care routine, you took out the micellar water and a reusable cotton round. Once your makeup was off, you quickly washed your face and changed into some pajamas. 
Funny enough, they consisted of some shorts and a Red Bull shirt that you had been given during Dams’ Christmas gift exchange. It had come from Ollie and Arthur both, but you knew that Arthur wouldn’t be caught buying anything with the RB logo on it. 
Now he’d have to get used to it. 
Oh my gosh. What would Arthur think. 
Were you allowed to tell your best friend? You guessed that he could find out early, but you didn’t want to get in trouble for anything just yet. He could find out with the rest of the world. Maybe you could ask Christian if you could tell him the night you posted something before Red Bull came out with an official statement.
Before bed, you found yourself scrolling through Twitter and Instagram. A couple of posts made you laugh out loud. You caught your finger hovering over some posts that talked about “connecting the dots” that were scarily accurate. What you would give to like at least one to send Twitter into a frenzy. But, you withdrew your finger and decided to jump onto TikTok. 
A few videos made you chuckle. Especially the McLaren one of Lando and Oscar trying to build card houses. Lando’s goggles were hilarious. 
To think that in a couple of months, they would be your “co-workers.” That was terrifying. At least you had met Charles a couple of times through Arthur. He was…nice. You hadn’t really spoken to him much the last time you saw him at Arthur’s birthday party. If anything, you think you might have said a maximum of 10 words to him the entire night. 
But that was a start. 
You eventually scrolled through almost all of the new posts. Looking over, you noticed that the clock read 12:30 a.m. Quickly, you set an alarm for the next morning before putting your phone on the charger. 
Vito would kill you in the morning if you hadn’t slept well. You closed your eyes and fell asleep, dreaming of the life you were able to be thrown into. 
At least you could get a red bull if you were tired.  
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(Your story)
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(Vito's story [I know it'd be impossible to take this picture if he was driving but just imagine :)] )
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Tag List : @awekbachira @lightdragonrayne
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sunnys-out · 6 months
Text
My Little Darling | Alessia Russo
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A/N: Hey y'all sorry this took a while but work got busy and didn't get a chance to work on anything. My French is rusty so please be kind.
I still remember how you told me how you would always be there for me
Warnings: language, injury
Word count: 2298
Alessia and I had met at our first team meeting at UNC and it seemed that all the international students just gravitated together. The other girls got a kick out of the French accent that came out when I introduced myself in English to the rest of the team.
I was desperate for friends, as were the other international girls, so I found myself getting close with the English players, Lotte Wubben-Moy and Alessia Russo, who was half Italian too as I came to find out. I loved them even though they did poke fun at the fact that France didn’t make it to the U-17 World Cup…joked that we would’ve met sooner. 
It was nice experiencing America with them and I found myself enjoying the little moments with the both of them, especially Alessia. I wouldn’t dare ruin a friendship that early, I mean why would she even be attracted to me…we had just met a month ago at that point in time.
A little quirk of mine is that I gave people nicknames, usually some animal but in French that reminded me of my teammates. Lotte, I fondly called, hibou or owl. You got to admit it when she is all focused and everything when she is at the defensive line her eyes narrow like a little owl. 
I hadn’t given one to Alessia only calling her Less, Lessie, Ali, or just simply Russo. She noticed, of course, pushing when the three of us were having a movie night at my dorm room.
“Why don’t I have a nickname?” Alessia poked my shoulder as we had just put on a random comedy on Netflix to watch. We were procrastinating on essays we had to all write for the same class but hey it was due in a week so we had time.
I furrow my eyebrows with confusion, “What? You have a nickname, I call you Less, Lessie, sometimes Ali…”  I poke her back “Soooo, technically you have more than one”
Alessia let out a huff as she got comfortable and laid her head on my shoulder as Lotte also got comfortable on the other side of me.
“No, I meant a french nickname, like Lotte has one…do you not like me?” Alessia pouted as she looked up to me feigning sadness.
I roll my eyes and look at Lotte on the other side of me, “Ma petite hibou, can you believe her? She thinks I don’t like her…as if we are not watching a movie in my dormitory”. This earned a laugh from the other English girl. 
Alessia lifted her head and pushed my shoulder, “See, you call her “Your little owl”, when can I get a cute nickname like that?”
Lotte raised her head, “wait, is that what that means? You calling me an owl?” I completely ignored her.
“Less, it just hasn’t come to me yet…but you keep yapping about it…I’ll call you canard, which is duck by the way”. A laugh escaped me before I finished the sentence as Alessia gave up and leaned her head back on my shoulder as we continued to watch the movie.
______________________________________________________________
Love is weird…yeah, I would say so. When I was Alessia there was a calmness that I couldn’t compare with Lotte. Don’t get me wrong I love ma petit hibou, but Alessia was different.
She’s driven and she always had this look in her eyes that only held a certain softness when she was looking at me.
She was there for me when I got my call-up for the French U-20 team just how our coaches had predicted.
Lotte couldn’t make it to our regular weekly movie night in my dorm but encouraged Alessia and I to “not do it because of her”.
We had finished the movie an hour ago and now were on some random episode of Stranger things. Alessia had migrated from leaning her head on my shoulder, as she always did, to laying her head on my lap, my finger gently combing her hair without a care in the world.
It was soothing and then my phone began vibrating in my pocket.
“Allo?, oui c’est elle. Oui…ah Merci, oui merci pour l'opportunité, c’est un honneur pour moi! Oui merci, …alors…. quoi…quoi, merci…au revoir”  (hello?, yes this is she, yes...ah thank you, yes thank you for the opportunity, it's an honor for me. Yes thank you...so...yes..yes...thank you.. goodbye)
Alessia had rolled over to look up at me and giggled, “so I only got ‘thank you’ from all that…who was that?”
I couldn’t stop smiling, “I got called up for the French U-20 team! Can you believe that?”
Alessia immediately got up and with a smile grabbed both sides of my face, “That’s amazing and of course I fucking believe that!”
All thoughts I had in that moment disappeared, I mean how could I even think when my whole world was in front of me. Alessia’s laugh broke me from my trance.
“Well, now I got to get called up for England, then we’ll be rivals..isn’t that absolutely wild” one of her thumbs now gently caressing my cheek.
I lean into her caress, “Alessia, what are you thinking about?” 
She tilts her head, as if she was observing my face to see how I will react.
“I’m thinking of how proud I am of you, really I am…and um..of…how much I want to kiss you right now”.
Alessia laughs as she feels my cheeks heat up in hands and my eyes widen.
“Well can I?” She asks as she pulls me closer.
With only a nod from me, Alessia brings her soft lips to mine. I had dreamed of doing that for so long that again my mind was empty yet filled with everything.
As she pulled back, her forehead resting against mine she whispered,
“No matter what happens…whatever this becomes, I’ll always be there for you” her fingers threading my hair as she continued to look at me.
“Ma petit chou, that’s your nickname…my little darling…no matter what happens you will always be that” I said quietly as I brought her in for another kiss.
24 August 2018
With another thud to the ground and frustrated groan, I swatted away any hands that attempted to assist me as I got up for probably the fourth time that game, not getting any cards given to the players knocking me down including once from Alessia. She gave me a gentle sorry as she helped me up even though I turned her down initially. I wanted to play against England in the final but it seems we both found ourselves fighting for 3rd place. Alessia and I hadn’t texted since the competition started and maybe only had a phone call here and there. The only time I saw her in person was right there in the tunnel before the start of the game. 
We were losing 1-0 and we were desperately trying to equalize, which meant I was pushing more up the field than usual. 
I was frustrated…justifiably…so I pushed even harder. I just did not expect to be taken down in the box. I lay face down gasping for any sort of air to return to me after the impact. Groaning also at the sting and sharp soreness near my right knee. The whistle from the referee signaling a penalty for my fall returned me to reality.
“Hey, you alright?” I heard muffled and a gentle touch to my face that I immediately recognized as Alessia. Her tone worried as she grabbed my hand. 
“Hey, hey, baby…I’m here ok? I’m here” I felt her hand gently holding mine as I finally was able to breathe slowly.
“Merde, elle saigne, médecin! (Shit, she’s bleeding, medic!)” I heard one of my teammates yell.
As the medics approached to wrap up my knee from the scrape, I felt Alessia’s hand leave mine. 
The penalty went in and we equalized. The energy was back but it didn’t end the way we wanted. Penalty shoot outs were never my favorite. Mine went in and Alessia’s didn’t but it didn’t matter what I did because we lost in the end.
I remained sitting on the field feeling disappointed that I couldn’t have done more to at least get 3rd place.
I felt a familiar weight on my shoulder and a gentle hand grab mine.
“Hey..” Alessia said quietly as she heard the sniffle come from me.
“Hey…ma petit chou” I look at her with a sad smile, tears threatening to fall as I leaned my head on hers.
“I’m so proud of you, you know?” she said interlacing her fingers with mine.
I only nod as the tears fall, “go celebrate, I’ll be ok” 
Alessia laughed a little as she shook her head, “no, I told you, I’d be there for you…even now…they can celebrate without me”. 
Media reported the pictures of Alessia and I on the field as a showing of support between two UNC teammates…Lotte would tease us upon our return and would yell “what a lovely showing between teammates” whenever Alessia and I would hold hands. 
______________________________________________________________________________
I was called up to the senior French team in 2019 and was able to play in my first World Cup. Alessia and Lotte watched from afar still participating in our university team while I was away. 
After the loss against the US eliminating us from the World Cup, I returned to ma petit chou who was waiting in my apartment with a cozy blanket and warm chocolate chip cookies from McDonald’s all set up for me. I wasn’t one to immediately tear up at a sight but the moment I entered the dimly lit apartment I couldn’t hold back.
Alessia loves deeply is what I came to discover and being close to the person she loved was important to her. It was important for me too. We both agreed that we wanted to keep our relationship to ourselves and not really post about it. We played together and lost together. I was there for her injury and she was there for mine. Which is why is was so hard to leave her.
2020 was filled with uncertainty especially because of COVID. Alessia and I were planning on leaving UNC along with Lotte to pursue a career back in Europe. Alessia went to Man United and Lotte went to Aresenal leaving me to go to Lyon. 
I won’t say that we didn’t try the distance but it became too much for us especially with our budding careers in our respecting countries. We stopped the relationship with a promise of keeping in touch whenever we could…we didn’t. 
A secret relationship remained a secret to the fans and the general public. We were former university teammates just liking each other's posts and commenting a blue heart every so often. It never went past that. The 2022 Euros came and went…an awkward “congratulations on the Euro win” was sent, read and not replied to. I mean I wouldn’t have… so I don’t blame her since the last message between us was from 2020. 
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I never handled injuries well…I isolated myself and Alessia was always there to accompany me. Since we separated, I hadn’t had a serious injury until 2023.
I knew I should’ve rested during after starting in every game in the group stages…I should’ve listened to my teammates but I didn’t want a repeat of 2019 with Australia. 
Sometimes you just know…as soon as I hit the ground in the latter part of the second half…I knew it was THAT tear. I laid there as the tears fell as the pain set in, desperately trying to find a hand to hold but only finding grass…
I don’t remember being put on the stretcher or anything that was said to me…nothing was familiar to me. They confirmed that it was a tear and I would be heading out back to Lyon to get the surgery and recover there. It didn’t matter really, we ended up losing in penalties…funny how history repeats itself…only difference was Alessia wasn’t there. 
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I remained in my hotel room, turning away any of my teammates who tried to stay with me…I just wanted to be alone…
I saw the result of the England/Colombia game and went through my phone until I found her number. It went straight to voicemail…
“Hey ma petit chou, congratulations on the win and getting a goal…I-uh…miss you a lot especially now. I don’t know if you saw but its an ACL tear and I’m cooped up in my hotel room…I still remember how you told me how you would always be there for me and-”
I choke back the tears threatening to fall but the pause was telling enough. “I just really need to hear you right now, so give me a call back because I do miss you and I can’t do this without you.” 
I end the call, immediately regretting my decision. I close my eyes hoping that the pain medication would kick in and I dont know how long I was out before I heard someone enter my hotel room.
I groan at the source of the noise
 “Go away” I wave my hand to whomever entered.
I stop immediately once I hear her small laugh.
“Well, I can’t possibly eat these cookies all on my own now can I?” I open my eyes and see Alessia with a small box of cookies. My face softened and my arms beckoned her to come to me. 
She gently held me like she always had and caressed my cheek wiping away the tears that had begun to fall
 “Hey…I’m here now” is all she whispered…oh how I missed my little darling. 
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phillydilly · 6 months
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been loving the way u write. i have been having thoughs and i needed to share. what if hannah schmidt and gianpiero (gp) were one person and was dating max. like y/n became max's engineer/stratgeist in 2021 and got him and red bull the 2021-2023 championships. they're like the ultimate rb racing and f1 couple.
other wags supporting their boys while y/n gets her boy wins. i just imagine them going on the podium together and max constantly saying 'our wins' and 'our accomplishments' like partners on and off track. plus the radio bickering- literally old married couple / mom and dad are fighting but momma knows best
Driven by Love
⊹♡— In which Max falls in love with his new radio engineer and strategist
Max Verstappen x fem!reader
Authors note: This idea was genius! I am so sorry this took so long to write, this request has been sitting in my inbox for a while. I’ve been really busy recently and so I worked on this story slower than usual. Nevertheless I hope you enjoy it as much as I loved writing it!
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The Formula 1 paddock buzzed with anticipation as Max Verstappen welcomed a new radio engineer, Y/n, after GP's retirement. The Red Bull Racing team had kept Y/n's arrival a well-guarded secret, adding an air of mystery. Y/n, known for her brilliance and strategic prowess, was about to meet Max for the first time, a moment highly anticipated by the entire team.
Upon entering the garage, Max was a mix of curiosity and nervousness, having heard of Y/n's accomplishments. However, nothing had prepared him for her captivating presence. When Max finally met Y/n, her charm momentarily overshadowed his shyness.
Y/n, with a welcoming smile, extended her hand. "Max Verstappen, I presume?"
Max, his nervousness evident in his voice, responded, "Yes, that's me. You're Y/n, right?"
She nodded, her eyes gleaming with intelligence. "Indeed. I've extensively studied your driving data, and I'm thrilled to work with you."
Max, though slightly flustered, managed to speak. "That's great. I've heard incredible things about your strategies."
Y/n chuckled softly, finding Max's shyness endearing. "Let's see if we can continue the winning streak."
The team members around them exchanged knowing glances, aware of the unspoken tension. Max cleared his throat, striving to regain professionalism. "Yes, let's do that."
As they discussed the race strategy, Max found himself drawn to Y/n's intelligence and expertise. Y/n, on the other hand, was amused by Max's shyness, although they both understood the need for a strictly professional relationship.
As the meeting concluded, Y/n extended her hand again. "Looking forward to a successful partnership, Max."
Max shook her hand, feeling a mix of excitement. "Likewise, Y/n. Let's win some races."
₊.˚⊹♡: ⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
As the racing season continued, Max and Y/n had been secretly dating for months, a relationship they cherished but kept hidden due to Y/n's fear of losing her job. Max knew he raced better with her by his side. Their bond was undeniable and reflected in their interactions during races.
During a race, Max received advice from Y/n about tire temperatures, and their playful bickering over the radio was evident, creating a unique dynamic.
Their hidden love story remained concealed, but their on-track partnership was undeniable. It was a bond they cherished, even if they couldn't openly acknowledge it.
As the racing season continued, Max and Y/n had been secretly dating for months, a relationship they cherished but kept hidden due to Y/n's fear of losing her job. Max knew he raced better with her by his side. Their bond was undeniable and reflected in their interactions during races.
Their hidden love story remained concealed, but their on-track partnership was undeniable. It was a bond they cherished, even if they couldn't openly acknowledge it.
₊˚⊹♡: ⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
At the team's headquarters, the atmosphere was buzzing with anticipation. Max and Y/n had gathered their colleagues in the briefing room, where they usually discussed race strategies and reviewed data. The room fell silent as Max and Y/n stepped to the front of the room, holding hands.
Their colleagues exchanged knowing glances, smirking and exchanging nods as they anticipated what Max and Y/n were about to share. It was clear that their secret was no longer a secret.
Max cleared his throat and began, "Hey, everyone, we've got something important to share today."
Y/n smiled nervously and added, "Yeah, it's been a secret for a while, but we think it's time you all know."
The room was filled with grins and a few chuckles. Sarah, a fellow team member, couldn't help but tease, "Are you two getting married? Is this an engagement announcement?"
Max and Y/n shared an amused glance. Max replied, "Not quite, Sarah, but it's about our relationship."
Y/n continued, "We've been dating for a while now, and I'm sure most of you have figured it out by now. We're not as subtle as we thought."
Christian laughed and said, "Well, it's about time you made it official. We've known for a while, and honestly, it was about time you came clean."
Their colleagues chimed in with good-natured comments, expressing their support and happiness for the couple. It was a moment of relief for Max and Y/n, knowing that their colleagues had not only known about their relationship but had embraced it all along.
The room erupted into applause and congratulations as their colleagues celebrated the couple's decision to be open about their relationship. Max and Y/n exchanged relieved smiles, feeling that they had finally acknowledged what everyone had known for some time.
Max stated, "Thank you, everyone, for understanding. We're excited to share this part of our lives with all of you."
Y/n added, "We're still committed to giving our best on and off the track. And together, we're even stronger."
Their colleagues applauded once more, and it was clear that Max and Y/n's relationship had only strengthened their connection with the team, making it an even tighter-knit racing family.
₊˚⊹♡: ⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
The final race of the season had arrived, and the world watched in anticipation as Max Verstappen found himself tied on points for the championship with Lewis Hamilton. It was a nail-biting showdown, and the pressure was immense.
In the early morning before the race, Max and Y/n found a quiet moment alone in the garage. Y/n looked into Max's eyes and smiled. "You've got this, Max. I believe in you."
Max, taking Y/n's hand, replied, "I couldn't have done any of this without you. You make me a better driver and a better person."
Their moment was interrupted by the team's race engineer, who reminded them it was almost time to head to the grid. Max and Y/n shared a quick, reassuring kiss before going their separate ways.
As the race began, the tension was palpable. Max and Lewis traded positions, battling for every inch of the track. Y/n was on the radio, providing crucial information and guidance to Max. During a pit stop, she couldn't help but playfully tease him, saying, "Max, you're not making this easy on me, are you?"
Max chuckled through the radio, "Well, you do love a challenge, don't you?"
Their playful banter provided a brief moment of relief amidst the intense competition. But as the laps ticked by, Max knew he had to give it his all.
In the final laps, Max and Lewis were neck and neck, the championship hanging in the balance. It was a thrilling battle, and the world watched in suspense. Y/n's voice was a steady presence in Max's earpiece, providing him with valuable information.
Then, with a daring overtaking maneuver, Max surged ahead and crossed the finish line as the race winner. The crowd erupted, and Y/n's voice crackled over the radio, "MAX, YOU ARE THE WORLD CHAMPION!"
Max, with joy in his voice, corrected her, "WE ARE WORLD CHAMPIONS!"
The cheers of the entire team resonated over the radio as Max celebrated his championship victory. The world now knew about their relationship, and they couldn't have been happier. Max and Y/n had not only won the championship, but they had also won the hearts of racing fans worldwide, proving that love and success could go hand in hand on the track.
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