#top data engineering skills

[olivergisttv]

How to Successfully Prepare for a Career in Data Engineering Now in 2025

In the era of AI, LLMs, and real-time personalization, data is the fuel—and data engineers are the mechanics. While data scientists often get the spotlight, it’s the data engineers who architect, build, and maintain the pipelines that make all those smart decisions possible. If you’re interested in a high-impact, high-demand career that blends backend engineering with business insight, this guide…

[bigleapblog]

Your Guide to B.Tech in Computer Science & Engineering Colleges

In today's technology-driven world, pursuing a B.Tech in Computer Science and Engineering (CSE) has become a popular choice among students aspiring for a bright future. The demand for skilled professionals in areas like Artificial Intelligence, Machine Learning, Data Science, and Cloud Computing has made computer science engineering colleges crucial in shaping tomorrow's innovators. Saraswati College of Engineering (SCOE), a leader in engineering education, provides students with a perfect platform to build a successful career in this evolving field.

Whether you're passionate about coding, software development, or the latest advancements in AI, pursuing a B.Tech in Computer Science and Engineering at SCOE can open doors to endless opportunities.

Why Choose B.Tech in Computer Science and Engineering?

Choosing a B.Tech in Computer Science and Engineering isn't just about learning to code; it's about mastering problem-solving, logical thinking, and the ability to work with cutting-edge technologies. The course offers a robust foundation that combines theoretical knowledge with practical skills, enabling students to excel in the tech industry.

At SCOE, the computer science engineering courses are designed to meet industry standards and keep up with the rapidly evolving tech landscape. With its AICTE Approved, NAAC Accredited With Grade-"A+" credentials, the college provides quality education in a nurturing environment. SCOE's curriculum goes beyond textbooks, focusing on hands-on learning through projects, labs, workshops, and internships. This approach ensures that students graduate not only with a degree but with the skills needed to thrive in their careers.

The Role of Computer Science Engineering Colleges in Career Development

The role of computer science engineering colleges like SCOE is not limited to classroom teaching. These institutions play a crucial role in shaping students' futures by providing the necessary infrastructure, faculty expertise, and placement opportunities. SCOE, established in 2004, is recognized as one of the top engineering colleges in Navi Mumbai. It boasts a strong placement record, with companies like Goldman Sachs, Cisco, and Microsoft offering lucrative job opportunities to its graduates.

The computer science engineering courses at SCOE are structured to provide a blend of technical and soft skills. From the basics of computer programming to advanced topics like Artificial Intelligence and Data Science, students at SCOE are trained to be industry-ready. The faculty at SCOE comprises experienced professionals who not only impart theoretical knowledge but also mentor students for real-world challenges.

Highlights of the B.Tech in Computer Science and Engineering Program at SCOE

Comprehensive Curriculum: The B.Tech in Computer Science and Engineering program at SCOE covers all major areas, including programming languages, algorithms, data structures, computer networks, operating systems, AI, and Machine Learning. This ensures that students receive a well-rounded education, preparing them for various roles in the tech industry.

Industry-Relevant Learning: SCOE’s focus is on creating professionals who can immediately contribute to the tech industry. The college regularly collaborates with industry leaders to update its curriculum, ensuring students learn the latest technologies and trends in computer science engineering.

State-of-the-Art Infrastructure: SCOE is equipped with modern laboratories, computer centers, and research facilities, providing students with the tools they need to gain practical experience. The institution’s infrastructure fosters innovation, helping students work on cutting-edge projects and ideas during their B.Tech in Computer Science and Engineering.

Practical Exposure: One of the key benefits of studying at SCOE is the emphasis on practical learning. Students participate in hands-on projects, internships, and industry visits, giving them real-world exposure to how technology is applied in various sectors.

Placement Support: SCOE has a dedicated placement cell that works tirelessly to ensure students secure internships and job offers from top companies. The B.Tech in Computer Science and Engineering program boasts a strong placement record, with top tech companies visiting the campus every year. The highest on-campus placement offer for the academic year 2022-23 was an impressive 22 LPA from Goldman Sachs, reflecting the college’s commitment to student success.

Personal Growth: Beyond academics, SCOE encourages students to participate in extracurricular activities, coding competitions, and tech fests. These activities enhance their learning experience, promote teamwork, and help students build a well-rounded personality that is essential in today’s competitive job market.

What Makes SCOE Stand Out?

With so many computer science engineering colleges to choose from, why should you consider SCOE for your B.Tech in Computer Science and Engineering? Here are a few factors that make SCOE a top choice for students:

Experienced Faculty: SCOE prides itself on having a team of highly qualified and experienced faculty members. The faculty’s approach to teaching is both theoretical and practical, ensuring students are equipped to tackle real-world challenges.

Strong Industry Connections: The college maintains strong relationships with leading tech companies, ensuring that students have access to internship opportunities and campus recruitment drives. This gives SCOE graduates a competitive edge in the job market.

Holistic Development: SCOE believes in the holistic development of students. In addition to academic learning, the college offers opportunities for personal growth through various student clubs, sports activities, and cultural events.

Supportive Learning Environment: SCOE provides a nurturing environment where students can focus on their academic and personal growth. The campus is equipped with modern facilities, including spacious classrooms, labs, a library, and a recreation center.

Career Opportunities After B.Tech in Computer Science and Engineering from SCOE

Graduates with a B.Tech in Computer Science and Engineering from SCOE are well-prepared to take on various roles in the tech industry. Some of the most common career paths for CSE graduates include:

Software Engineer: Developing software applications, web development, and mobile app development are some of the key responsibilities of software engineers. This role requires strong programming skills and a deep understanding of software design.

Data Scientist: With the rise of big data, data scientists are in high demand. CSE graduates with knowledge of data science can work on data analysis, machine learning models, and predictive analytics.

AI Engineer: Artificial Intelligence is revolutionizing various industries, and AI engineers are at the forefront of this change. SCOE’s curriculum includes AI and Machine Learning, preparing students for roles in this cutting-edge field.

System Administrator: Maintaining and managing computer systems and networks is a crucial role in any organization. CSE graduates can work as system administrators, ensuring the smooth functioning of IT infrastructure.

Cybersecurity Specialist: With the growing threat of cyberattacks, cybersecurity specialists are essential in protecting an organization’s digital assets. CSE graduates can pursue careers in cybersecurity, safeguarding sensitive information from hackers.

Conclusion: Why B.Tech in Computer Science and Engineering at SCOE is the Right Choice

Choosing the right college is crucial for a successful career in B.Tech in Computer Science and Engineering. Saraswati College of Engineering (SCOE) stands out as one of the best computer science engineering colleges in Navi Mumbai. With its industry-aligned curriculum, state-of-the-art infrastructure, and excellent placement record, SCOE offers students the perfect environment to build a successful career in computer science.

Whether you're interested in AI, data science, software development, or any other field in computer science, SCOE provides the knowledge, skills, and opportunities you need to succeed. With a strong focus on hands-on learning and personal growth, SCOE ensures that students graduate not only as engineers but as professionals ready to take on the challenges of the tech world.

If you're ready to embark on an exciting journey in the world of technology, consider pursuing your B.Tech in Computer Science and Engineering at SCOE—a college where your future takes shape.

[krstseo]

Artificial Intelligence is revolutionizing industries, creating vast career opportunities. At KRCT, we equip students with essential AI skills like machine learning, deep learning, and data analytics. Our industry-aligned curriculum, expert mentorship, and hands-on projects prepare students for the evolving job market. AI-driven advancements in healthcare, automation, and sustainability highlight its growing impact. Join KRCT to build a future-ready career in AI and Data Science!

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved in our archive

By Sarah Schwartz

Test after test of U.S. students’ reading and math abilities have shown scores declining since the pandemic.

Now, new results show that it’s not just children whose skills have fallen over the past few years—American adults are getting worse at reading and math, too.

The connection, if any, between the two patterns isn’t clear—the tests aren’t set up to provide that kind of information. But it does point to a populace that is becoming more stratified by ability at a time when economic inequality continues to widen and debates over opportunity for social mobility are on the rise.

The findings from the 2023 administration of the Program for the International Assessment of Adult Competencies, or PIAAC, show that 16- to 65-year-olds’ literacy scores declined by 12 points from 2017 to 2023, while their numeracy scores fell by 7 points during the same period.

These trends aren’t unique in the global context: Of the 31 countries and economies in the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development that participated in PIAAC, some saw scores drop over the past six years, while others improved or held constant.

Still, as in previous years, the United States doesn’t compare favorably to other countries: The country ranks in the middle of the pack in literacy and below the international average in math. (Literacy and numeracy on the test are scored on a 500-point scale.)

But Americans do stand out in one way: The gap between the highest- and lowest-performing adults is growing wider, as the top scorers hold steady and other test takers see their scores fall.

“There’s a dwindling middle in the United States in terms of skills,” said Peggy Carr, the commissioner of the National Center for Education Statistics, which oversees PIAAC in the country. (The test was developed by the OECD and is administered every three years.)

It’s a phenomenon that distinguishes the United States, she said.

“Some of that is because we’re very diverse and it’s large, in comparison to some of the OECD countries,” Carr said in a call with reporters on Monday. “But that clearly is not the only reason.”

American children, too, are experiencing this widening chasm between high and low performers. National and international tests show the country’s top students holding steady, while students at the bottom of the distribution are falling further behind.

It’s hard to know why U.S. adults’ scores have taken this precipitous dive, Carr said.

About a third of Americans score at lowest levels PIAAC is different from large-scale assessments for students, which measure kids’ academic abilities.

Instead, this test for adults evaluates their abilities to use math and reading in real-world contexts—to navigate public services in their neighborhood, for example, or complete a task at work. The United States sample is nationally representative random sample, drawn from census data.

American respondents averaged a level 2 of 5 in both subjects.

In practice, that means that they can, for example, use a website to find information about how to order a recycling cart, or read and understand a list of rules for sending their child to preschool. But they would have trouble using a library search engine to find the author of a book.

In math, they could compare a table and a graph of the same information to check for errors. But they wouldn’t be able to calculate average monthly expenses with several months of data.

While the U.S. average is a level 2, more adults now fall at a level 1 or below—28 percent scored at that level in literacy, up from 19 percent in 2017, and 34 percent in numeracy, up from 29 percent in 2017.

Respondents scoring below level 1 couldn’t compare calendar dates printed on grocery tags to determine which food item was packed first. They would also struggle to read several job descriptions and identify which company was looking to hire a night-shift worker.

The findings also show sharp divides by race and national origin, with respondents born in the United States outscoring those born outside of the country, and white respondents outscoring Black and Hispanic test takers. Those trends have persisted over the past decade.

[papoochu]

Next in the council series is "The Machine", Tomoe Tsurugi! Though for ArtFight, she'll go undercover as Tachibana Nagi!

Now that I have 3 council members up, I think I'll make a pinned masterpost on my blog if you want to see the others! 3 down, 9 more to go!

Background

Tachibana = noble samurai clan name symbolizing honor and legacy, deeply tied to Japan’s warrior history

Nagi = meaning “to mow down” or “to sweep away”; often used to describe the motion of a naginata, a sword, or wind in battle

Born 1967 in Tokyo to a strict traditional family, proud of their samurai lineage

Learned various martial arts and weaponry, but excelled in swordsmanship

Raised on stories of Onna-Musha, Tomoe Gozen, and the codes of bushidō

On her mother’s side, descended from survivors of the Nagasaki atomic bombing (1945)

Childhood During Japan’s Economic Miracle:

Raised amid Japan’s postwar boom, a time of gleaming technology and rising prosperity

While her father, a bureaucrat in the Ministry of International Trade and Industry, embraced modernization, her household remained steeped in samurai values: discipline, tradition, duty

Unbeknownst to them, Nagi had inherited genetic mutations from her hibakusha grandparents, survivors of Nagasaki’s blast

Frequently ill as a child (chronic fatigue, joint pain, unusual sensitivities), she was in and out of hospitals

Medical professionals were evasive, classmates cruel; whispers of “tainted blood” followed her

Early medical trauma and social alienation planted a seed of hatred for human fragility and societal hypocrisy

Early Signs of Blindness (Age 13):

Began experiencing night blindness, trouble reading, and disorientation in dim light

Eventually diagnosed with retinitis pigmentosa: a progressive, degenerative eye condition

Her doctors quietly suggested the condition may be linked to her family’s radiation exposure, a lingering curse of Nagasaki

For Nagi, the diagnosis became not just a personal tragedy, but proof that the past can reach forward and rot the present

University Years:

While studying engineering and mathematics at the University of Tokyo, her sight deteriorated rapidly

Already known for her genius and prowess, she was approached by the council, who provided her with the resources to adapt her skills for her failing sight

By 24, she was legally blind

This coincided with the peak of Japan’s Bubble Economy: wealth rising, but so was corruption and moral decay (Recruit Scandal)

Rejected from elite job programs despite top academic performance

Her fury crystallized: flesh is weakness, society is hypocritical, and machines do not discriminate

She vowed to build a future where the flawed human body and corrupt human systems would be rendered obsolete

Founding Tachibana Tech (Age 24–28):

As Japan entered the Lost Decade, Nagi founded Tachibana Tech: a cybernetics and AI firm based on one principle: refining the human form through technology

She personally underwent neural interface surgeries, experimenting on herself to convert her remaining senses into data streams

Her vision did not return, but she received augmented perception - a new kind of sight born of code and signal

No longer “blind,” she became The Machine - detached, calculating, and unbound by human limitations

1995 – Kobe Earthquake & Technological Control:

Great Hanshin Earthquake devastated Kobe, exposed fatal weaknesses in Japan’s infrastructure and disaster readiness

Nagi quietly offered her AI to the state for predictive modeling and emergency logistics, then used the data to expand her surveillance reach

The state was incompetent. The people were panicked. Only machines-maintained order

Solidified her belief: Japan doesn’t need democracy - it needs an operating system

Rise of Tachibana Industries:

With Japan’s population aging and its political system paralyzed, Nagi’s company became indispensable - providing predictive governance tools, infrastructure AI, and covert intelligence services

Privately, she orchestrated digital blackmail campaigns, economic disruptions, and political reshuffling to consolidate influence

2011 – Fukushima Nuclear Disaster:

The Fukushima meltdown reopened national trauma - once again, revealing humanity’s hubris and helplessness

To Nagi, it was the final confirmation:

Nagasaki made her blind

Kobe made her a player

Fukushima made her sovereign

Emotion, tradition, empathy - these were relics

Only through data, order, and engineered governance could civilization survive itself

Present Day (Age 49):

Leads a corporate-state hybrid that quietly shapes policy, surveillance, and commerce across East Asia and beyond

Believes that Japan must return to its warrior roots - but not through swords or blood, through discipline, hierarchy, and machine logic

Her mission: eradicate human fragility; a society where order is no longer maintained by the fallible human hand, but by precision systems

Design Notes/Character Study

Character Inspo for main outfit:

Garuda (Warframe), Shen (Kung Fu Panda)

Note: Garuda is based on Indian mythology, while Shen is based on Chinese - use other references for cultural nuance, as this character is Japanese

Modernized kimono

Red, black, white

Tech inspo:

Neon Genesis Evangelion, PCB, Signalis

Parallels to Gendo Ikari

Evangelion Unit-01

Cultural/historical references

Mu = nothingness

Oni

Onna-bugeisha and Tomoe Gozen

Nagasaki

Seismic patterns on shirts

Rising sun/chrysanthemum seal on obi = authoritarianism/conquest

Wields a naginata

Watched videos of national women's competitions @ 0.25 speed T-T

Has devoted her life to the council

Retinitis pigmentosa does not usually have any physical symptoms

Her eyes are pale red/pink from the tech implants

Glowing for artistic flair

Glasses are blackout glasses (opaque)

Company emblem is a sword

Believes her mother gave her weakness

President Snow: No objections to violence; but always with reason

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Too big to care

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me in BOSTON with Randall "XKCD" Munroe (Apr 11), then PROVIDENCE (Apr 12), and beyond!

Remember the first time you used Google search? It was like magic. After years of progressively worsening search quality from Altavista and Yahoo, Google was literally stunning, a gateway to the very best things on the internet.

Today, Google has a 90% search market-share. They got it the hard way: they cheated. Google spends tens of billions of dollars on payola in order to ensure that they are the default search engine behind every search box you encounter on every device, every service and every website:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/03/not-feeling-lucky/#fundamental-laws-of-economics

Not coincidentally, Google's search is getting progressively, monotonically worse. It is a cesspool of botshit, spam, scams, and nonsense. Important resources that I never bothered to bookmark because I could find them with a quick Google search no longer show up in the first ten screens of results:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/21/im-feeling-unlucky/#not-up-to-the-task

Even after all that payola, Google is still absurdly profitable. They have so much money, they were able to do a $80 billion stock buyback. Just a few months later, Google fired 12,000 skilled technical workers. Essentially, Google is saying that they don't need to spend money on quality, because we're all locked into using Google search. It's cheaper to buy the default search box everywhere in the world than it is to make a product that is so good that even if we tried another search engine, we'd still prefer Google.

This is enshittification. Google is shifting value away from end users (searchers) and business customers (advertisers, publishers and merchants) to itself:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/05/the-map-is-not-the-territory/#apor-locksmith

And here's the thing: there are search engines out there that are so good that if you just try them, you'll get that same feeling you got the first time you tried Google.

When I was in Tucson last month on my book-tour for my new novel The Bezzle, I crashed with my pals Patrick and Teresa Nielsen Hayden. I've know them since I was a teenager (Patrick is my editor).

We were sitting in his living room on our laptops – just like old times! – and Patrick asked me if I'd tried Kagi, a new search-engine.

Teresa chimed in, extolling the advanced search features, the "lenses" that surfaced specific kinds of resources on the web.

I hadn't even heard of Kagi, but the Nielsen Haydens are among the most effective researchers I know – both in their professional editorial lives and in their many obsessive hobbies. If it was good enough for them…

I tried it. It was magic.

No, seriously. All those things Google couldn't find anymore? Top of the search pile. Queries that generated pages of spam in Google results? Fucking pristine on Kagi – the right answers, over and over again.

That was before I started playing with Kagi's lenses and other bells and whistles, which elevated the search experience from "magic" to sorcerous.

The catch is that Kagi costs money – after 100 queries, they want you to cough up $10/month ($14 for a couple or $20 for a family with up to six accounts, and some kid-specific features):

https://kagi.com/settings?p=billing_plan&plan=family

I immediately bought a family plan. I've been using it for a month. I've basically stopped using Google search altogether.

Kagi just let me get a lot more done, and I assumed that they were some kind of wildly capitalized startup that was running their own crawl and and their own data-centers. But this morning, I read Jason Koebler's 404 Media report on his own experiences using it:

https://www.404media.co/friendship-ended-with-google-now-kagi-is-my-best-friend/

Koebler's piece contained a key detail that I'd somehow missed:

When you search on Kagi, the service makes a series of “anonymized API calls to traditional search indexes like Google, Yandex, Mojeek, and Brave,” as well as a handful of other specialized search engines, Wikimedia Commons, Flickr, etc. Kagi then combines this with its own web index and news index (for news searches) to build the results pages that you see. So, essentially, you are getting some mix of Google search results combined with results from other indexes.

In other words: Kagi is a heavily customized, anonymized front-end to Google.

The implications of this are stunning. It means that Google's enshittified search-results are a choice. Those ad-strewn, sub-Altavista, spam-drowned search pages are a feature, not a bug. Google prefers those results to Kagi, because Google makes more money out of shit than they would out of delivering a good product:

https://www.theverge.com/2024/4/2/24117976/best-printer-2024-home-use-office-use-labels-school-homework

No wonder Google spends a whole-ass Twitter every year to make sure you never try a rival search engine. Bottom line: they ran the numbers and figured out their most profitable course of action is to enshittify their flagship product and bribe their "competitors" like Apple and Samsung so that you never try another search engine and have another one of those magic moments that sent all those Jeeves-askin' Yahooers to Google a quarter-century ago.

One of my favorite TV comedy bits is Lily Tomlin as Ernestine the AT&T operator; Tomlin would do these pitches for the Bell System and end every ad with "We don't care. We don't have to. We're the phone company":

https://snltranscripts.jt.org/76/76aphonecompany.phtml

Speaking of TV comedy: this week saw FTC chair Lina Khan appear on The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. It was amazing:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oaDTiWaYfcM

The coverage of Khan's appearance has focused on Stewart's revelation that when he was doing a show on Apple TV, the company prohibited him from interviewing her (presumably because of her hostility to tech monopolies):

https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/apple-got-caught-censoring-its-own

But for me, the big moment came when Khan described tech monopolists as "too big to care."

What a phrase!

Since the subprime crisis, we're all familiar with businesses being "too big to fail" and "too big to jail." But "too big to care?" Oof, that got me right in the feels.

Because that's what it feels like to use enshittified Google. That's what it feels like to discover that Kagi – the good search engine – is mostly Google with the weights adjusted to serve users, not shareholders.

Google used to care. They cared because they were worried about competitors and regulators. They cared because their workers made them care:

https://www.vox.com/future-perfect/2019/4/4/18295933/google-cancels-ai-ethics-board

Google doesn't care anymore. They don't have to. They're the search company.

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/2024/04/04/teach-me-how-to-shruggie/#kagi

[isthiscoinsidenceorasign]

She's Theirs: By Your Side

Title: By Your Side

Summary: Nick experiences Sub-space for the first time.

Word Count:  12,310

Warnings: Sub-space, fluff, light flirting, some suggestive dirty talk. A teeny bit of praise kink if you squint.

Tags: fluff

Author Notes: Hey y'all! Here's chapter nine. This chapter I feel is more emotional than some of the others. But I feel like it really moves the story along and further solidifies Nick, Jake, and Bradley's bond. If you'd like to be tagged in future chapters let me know. And if there's anything you'd like to see in the story don't hesitate to tell me. Maybe I'll be able to put it in!

Nick stared at the flight simulator data scrolling across her screen, the numbers blurring together like runway lights through fog. Last night with Jake and Bradley had been... transcendent. The way they all connected on a more deeper and romantic level.The way they made her feel so loved, so cherished, so safe. But now, sitting in her ergonomic chair at the Naval Air Systems Command facility, she felt hollowed out, a fighter jet running on fumes.

"Boss, these thrust calculations from Jones look off by at least three percent," One of her subordinates said, dropping a stack of papers on her desk.

"So fix them," she mumbled, reaching for her fourth coffee of the morning. Her hands trembled slightly, not from the caffeine but from the emotional crash that had been building since she'd woken up alone in her apartment. Jake and Bradley had needed to report early—some classified briefing they couldn't get out of. They both gave her kisses and told her to go back to sleep. She did but when she woke up her mood had only gotten worse.

“Are you okay Boss?” Her coworker asked out of concern.

"Fine, just tired," Nick replied, forcing authority into her voice. Her colleagues didn't need to know she'd spent half the night with her body tangled with two of Top Gun's finest pilots. "I'll look at the thrust data after I finish the stabilizer analysis."

She turned back to her screen, but her mind drifted to Bradley's hands, calloused yet gentle, holding her own soft ones. To Jake's mouth against her neck, whispering promises that had made her gasp and arch against him. To the way they'd taken care of her, the way they wiped her tears away when she became emotional.

Thinking back to last night and how vulnerable she became brought tears to her eyes. She tried to blink them away yet they still threatened to fall. Something had to be done to get her emotions in check.

Nick hastily dabbed at her eyes with her sleeve, grateful that most of her team was focused on their own work in front of them. The vast room hummed with the sound of dozens of engineers working, the tap of keyboards, machines running, and low murmurs of technical discussion creating a white noise that usually soothed her. Today, it felt like static against her raw nerves.

She glanced at her phone, sitting face-down beside her keyboard. The device seemed to pulse with an energy of its own, a tether to the two men who had systematically dismantled her carefully constructed walls. Nick had always prided herself on her compartmentalization skills—it was what made her such an effective engineer. Emotion in one box, intellect in another, never the twain shall meet. But last night, those boxes had been thrown open, their contents scattered like clothes across her bedroom floor.

She knew they agreed to keep a healthy distance from each other on the base, as to not draw suspicion. But right now all she wanted was to be near them.

Without second guessing herself she turned her phone over and pulled up there group text.

Nick: Hey what are you guys doing?

A few minutes passed before Jake and only Jake responded.

Jake: Just some paperwork Darlin’.

Nick: Can we find a place on base to meet?

Jake: Is everything okay?”

Nick stared at Jake's message, her thumb hovering over the keyboard. Was everything okay? No. She felt like she was spiraling out of control, like a jet with compromised ailerons. But how could she explain that in a text?

Nick: I just need to see you both. Please.

She set the phone down and tried to focus on the stabilizer analysis again. Numbers and equations that normally made perfect sense to her now seemed like hieroglyphics. Her phone vibrated against the desk.

Jake: Maintenance hangar 4. 15 minutes. It's empty until 1400.

Nick felt a rush of relief so intense it made her dizzy. She quickly saved her work, smoothing down her navy-blue blouse as she stood.

"I need to check something in the test bay," she announced to no one in particular, grabbing her security badge and phone. "Back in thirty."

Once she stepped into the hallway, she nearly sprinted toward the hangar. Like Jake had said—the place was deserted.

The cavernous space of Hangar 4 swallowed her footsteps as she slipped inside. Afternoon sunlight streamed through the high windows, catching dust motes in golden beams that cut across the concrete floor. The massive doors were sealed, leaving the hangar in a strange limbo—not quite dark, not fully illuminated. A perfect metaphor for how she felt.

"Nick?"

Jake’s voice came from behind a partially disassembled F/A-18. He stepped into view, flight suit unzipped to his waist, white t-shirt underneath. His brown eyes swept over her, immediately registering her distress.

"Hey," she managed, her voice smaller than she intended.

"Is everything okay?"

Nick opened her mouth, but all that came out was a strangled sob.

Jake closed the distance in swift, unthinking steps, reaching her before she could fold in on herself completely. The scent of him wrapped around her—coffee whiskey and warm vanilla, rich and grounding, like late-night conversations and steady hands on cold mornings.

"I got you," he murmured against her hair, one hand cradling the back of her head. "What happened, darlin'?"

Nick clutched his flight suit, burying her face against the solid warmth of him. "I don't know what's wrong with me," she choked out. "I can't focus, I can't think straight. I keep thinking about last night, and—" She broke off, unable to articulate the storm inside her.

"Where's Bradley?" she whispered, hating how needy she sounded but unable to stop herself.

"I don't know. Haven’t seen him since our briefing this morning. Did he not respond to the group chat?" Jake’s thumbs brushed away her tears.

"No. Can you try him? I need both of you."

Jake nodded, pulling his phone from his pocket while keeping one arm firmly around her. "I'll call him."

The ringing echoed in the empty hangar, unanswered. After several rings, it went straight to voicemail.

Jake slipped the phone back into his pocket and guided her toward a small alcove where maintenance equipment was stored. He cleared space on a workbench and lifted her onto it, positioning himself between her knees, hands steady on her waist.

"He didn’t answer," Jake said as she sniffled. "Probably in a test flight." His thumbs made soothing circles on her hips. "He'll be here as soon as he can."

Nick nodded, trying to steady her breathing. The trembling wouldn't stop. She felt pathetic, falling apart like this—over what? A night of intimacy? What kind of aerospace engineer, what kind of Maverick’s daughter, unraveled because two men had shown her tenderness?

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "This is stupid. I shouldn’t have pulled you away from work."

Jake’s eyes narrowed. "Don't. Don't apologize for needing us." His voice was firm but gentle. "Talk to me, Nick. What's going on in that pretty head of yours?"

She inhaled shakily. "I woke up alone and I just… spiraled. Last night was…" She struggled as more tears spilled.

Jake sighed. "Do you know what sub-drop is?"

Nick nodded.

"I’ve read about it," she admitted, wiping at her eyes. "But I didn’t think… we weren’t even doing a scene. It wasn’t like that."

Jake’s expression softened as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "From what I read, it doesn’t have to be a formal scene, darlin'. Any intense emotional or physical experience can trigger it. And last night was pretty damn intense for all of us."

Nick leaned into his touch, craving the contact like oxygen. "I’ve never felt like this before. Like I’m coming apart at the seams."

"That’s because you’ve never let yourself be this vulnerable before," Jake said, his usual cocky grin momentarily replaced by something softer. "You let us see all of you last night, Nick. Not just the brilliant engineer or Maverick’s tough-as-nails daughter. The real you."

Fresh tears welled in her eyes. She lowered her head, a sob overtaking her.

Jake pulled her closer, pressing his forehead to hers. "Hey, hey… I’ve got you."

"It’s just—" Nick’s voice cracked. "I’m not supposed to be like this. I’ve always been independent, in control. And now I can’t even make it through a morning without falling apart because you two aren’t there."

Jake’s hands came up to cradle her face, his thumbs gently wiping away her tears. "You know what I think? I think you’ve been in control for so damn long, you’ve forgotten what it feels like to let go. To trust someone else to catch you."

Nick closed her eyes, leaning into his touch. "It’s terrifying."

"Scarier than flying supersonic?" His voice

held a hint of teasing.

A small laugh escaped her. "Way scarier."

The hangar door creaked open, and they both froze. Nick's heart pounded against her ribs as she instinctively tried to pull away from Jake, but he held her firmly, his body shielding her from view.

"It's just me," Bradley’s deep voice called out, and Nick sagged with relief.

He appeared around the corner of the alcove, his face lined with concern. Still in his flight suit, his hair was slightly mussed, as though he’d been running his hands through it.

"I got your messages as soon as I finished my flight," he said, his eyes sweeping over Nick’s tear-stained face. "What’s wrong?"

Jake kept one arm around Nick’s waist. "Our girl’s having a rough morning."

"Sub-drop," Nick murmured, her voice small. "At least, that’s what Jake thinks is happening."

Understanding dawned on Bradley’s face.

Without hesitation, he stepped closer, settling at Nick’s other side. His hand cupped her cheek, thumb brushing away a fresh tear.

"I should’ve checked in earlier," he said, his voice rough with regret. "We shouldn’t have left you alone this morning."

Nick leaned into his touch, drawing comfort from the warmth of his palm. "It’s not your fault. You had to report. I just… I didn’t expect to feel like this."

"Like what?" Bradley asked gently.

"Empty. Shaky. Like I’m free-falling without a parachute." Her voice trembled as fresh tears welled up. "I can’t focus on work. I can’t stop thinking about last night."

Jake and Bradley exchanged a look over her head, a silent conversation passing between them.

"Come here," Bradley murmured, guiding her off the workbench and into his arms. His broad chest was solid against her cheek, anchoring her. Jake moved behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist just below Bradley’s. She was completely sandwiched between them.

"We’ve got you," Bradley whispered against her hair. "You’re safe with us."

Nick closed her eyes, surrendering to their hold. The emotions she’d been trying to keep at bay surged forward, spilling out in uncontrolled sobs.

Bradley’s steady heartbeat thumped against her ear, while Jake’s breath warmed the back of her neck. Neither of them rushed her or hushed her tears. They simply held her, creating a cocoon of warmth and safety in the cold, echoing hangar.

"That’s it," Jake murmured, his lips brushing her hair. "Let it all out, darlin’."

As her crying ebbed, Nick became aware of Bradley’s hand making slow circles on her back, matching her breaths. Jake’s fingers traced soothing patterns along her hip, grounding her further in their presence.

"I don't understand why this is happening," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "I've had sex before. I've had relationships. Why is this happening.” She asked, still finding fault with there earlier explanation.

"It's not just sex," Bradley said softly, his voice resonating through his chest against her ear. "What happened between us last night was more than physical."

Jake’s arms tightened around her waist. "We connected on a whole different level, Nick. All three of us."

She sniffled, her breathing still uneven. "I've never… felt so much at once."

"That's why you're crashing now," Bradley said, his fingers threading gently through her hair. "Your body flooded itself with dopamine, oxytocin, adrenaline—and now those levels are dropping. Your system is trying to recalibrate."

Nick pulled back slightly, looking up at Bradley with red-rimmed eyes. "Is that the pilot talking, or did you actually research this?"

A faint smile touched his lips. "It was Jake actually. After you said you were into BDSM he did some research and passed it along to me.”

Nick blinked in surprise, turning slightly to glance at Jake over her shoulder. "You researched this? For me?"

Jake’s usual cocky smirk softened into something genuine. "Of course I did. The moment you mentioned it that first night, I wanted to know everything." His fingers traced a slow, reassuring path along her spine. "I wasn’t about to mess this up by being uninformed."

A fresh wave of emotion swelled inside her. These men—these impossibly strong, skilled pilots—had taken the time to understand what she needed before she even fully understood it herself.

"We both did," Bradley added, his deep voice rumbling against her. "Jake sent me articles about the lifestyle—sub-space, aftercare, sub-drop, all of it. We wanted to..."

"Be prepared," Nick finished for him.

He nodded. "For when you were ready."

Nick’s eyes welled up again. "That’s so sweet of you both."

"Shhh, it’s okay," Bradley murmured, pulling her closer.

Jake’s hands slid up from her waist to her shoulders, kneading gently at the tension there. "You need aftercare, darlin’. Even if we didn’t plan a formal scene, what happened between us was intense. We should’ve stayed with you longer this morning."

Nick swallowed hard, hating how right they both were, how much she needed this. "I've never let anyone see me like this before," she whispered.

"Like what?" Bradley asked, his fingers still threading through her hair.

"Weak. Needy." The words felt sharp against her throat.

Jake’s hands stilled on her shoulders. "Is that what you think this is? Weakness?"

She nodded against Bradley’s chest, unable to meet their eyes.

Bradley gently tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at him. His gaze was steady, filled with concern—and something deeper.

"This isn’t weakness, Nick. This is trust." His voice was quiet but unwavering. "Do you know how much strength it takes to let someone see you like this?"

Jake moved to her side, his hand resting protectively on her lower back.

"Most people spend their lives building walls, never letting anyone in. But you trusted us enough to let us see you."

Bradley’s presence against her chest was grounding. "Trust requires more strength than independence ever will."

"He’s right, darlin’," Jake added, his breath warm against her ear. "You think we don’t need this too? That we just walked away this morning and went about our day like nothing happened?"

"You didn’t?" Nick blinked away fresh tears.

"Hell no," Jake said fiercely. "I was distracted all morning. Couldn’t focus worth a damn during the briefing."

Bradley nodded. "I nearly botched a routine landing because I couldn’t stop thinking about you—about us."

Nick searched their faces for any hint of dishonesty but found none. "Really?"

"Really," Bradley confirmed, gently brushing away a tear. "I kept checking my phone between flights, worried about you. When I saw your messages, I told the flight instructor I had a family emergency."

Jake’s lips quirked up. "Which isn’t far from the truth, if you think about it."

The word _family_ lingered between them, heavy with implication. Warmth unfurled in her chest, pushing back against the hollow feeling that had threatened to swallow her whole.

"Family," Nick echoed softly, testing the word on her tongue. It felt right, even though what they shared was so new—so undefined.

Bradley tightened his arms around her. "Well, maybe not family exactly. More like—"

"Boyfriends and girlfriend?" she asked, hopeful.

Jake and Bradley exchanged a look over her head, another silent conversation.

"Is that what you want, darlin’?" Jake asked, his voice softer than she’d ever heard it. Gone was the cocky fighter pilot who strutted across the flight deck like he owned it.

Nick took a shaky breath. "I… I don’t know what this is between us. But I know I don’t want it to end."

Bradley cupped her face, his calloused thumb stroking her cheek. "Neither do we."

"So, you're both my boyfriends?"

Jake chuckled softly. "I think we’re a bit beyond conventional labels, but yeah—if that’s what you want to call it."

Bradley’s eyes softened. "Boyfriends. Partners. Whatever you want to call us, we’re yours, Nick."

The declaration settled something deep inside her, a restless part of her soul finally finding anchor. She leaned forward, pressing her forehead against Bradley’s chest, reaching back to grip Jake’s flight suit.

"I’ve never done this before—a relationship with two people. I don’t know the rules."

Jake caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. "We’ll figure them out together. Make our own rules."

"Right now, though," Bradley said, voice gentle but firm, "we need to take care of you properly."

Nick nodded, suddenly aware of how drained she felt. The emotional storm had passed, leaving her exhausted but lighter somehow, as if a weight had been lifted from her chest. "I'd love that, but we all have work to get back to."

Jake’s thumb traced the delicate bones of her wrist. "Work can wait. You're more important."

"I can't just disappear," Nick protested weakly, though the thought of returning to her desk and facing those thrust calculations made her stomach clench. "I told them I’d be back in thirty minutes."

Bradley reached for her phone. "Text your team. Tell them you’re consulting on a mechanical issue with the F/A-18s. It’ll buy us the rest of the afternoon."

Nick hesitated, torn between duty and the undeniable need for comfort. "I shouldn’t—"

"Nick," Jake said, gentle but firm. "You wouldn’t fly a jet with compromised systems. Don’t try to function when you’re emotionally depleted."

She relented, typing out a quick message to her team lead. When she finished, Bradley took her phone and slipped it into his flight suit pocket.

"What did you have in mind?" Nick asked, her voice small but steadier than before.

Jake’s smile was warm, lacking its usual edge of cockiness. "First, we’re getting you out of here."

"And we’re going to make sure you eat something," Bradley added, his arm still protective around her shoulders. "When’s the last time you had a real meal?"

Nick realized with a start that she’d skipped breakfast, too wound up to eat. "I… had coffee?"

Jake shook his head, exchanging a concerned look with Bradley. "That settles it. Food, hydration, rest, and touch," Bradley said softly. "Physical contact helps with the drop."

"Won’t it look suspicious if all of us leave?" Nick asked.

"I already told them I had a family emergency," Bradley said. "That’ll cover me."

Jake’s hand slid to the small of her back, his touch firm but gentle. "I have to meet with your dad and Cyclone, but as soon as that’s done, I’ll be out of here."

"So how about I take you back to your place, get some food and rest into you, and Jake meets up with us later?" Bradley offered.

Nick leaned into Bradley’s solid warmth, considering his suggestion. The thought of being alone again made her chest tighten, but having Bradley with her sounded like exactly what she needed.

"Okay," she whispered, nodding against his chest. "That sounds good."

Jake stepped closer, tilting her chin up with his finger. "I’ll be there as soon as I can, darlin’. I promise." His green eyes were intense, searching her face. "Two hours, tops."

Nick nodded, feeling steadier than she had all morning. "I’ll be okay. Bradley will take care of me."

"Damn right I will," Bradley affirmed, his arm tightening around her shoulders.

Jake leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. The tenderness of it made her eyes sting with fresh tears. "No more crying," he murmured against her mouth. "I hate seeing you cry."

She sniffled and lowered her eyes. "I’m sorry."

"Don’t be sorry," Bradley murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple. "It’s not weakness to feel things deeply."

Jake reluctantly stepped back, his hand lingering on her arm. "I need to go before Cyclone sends out a search party, but I’ll be thinking about you both."

Nick watched as he straightened his flight suit, slipping back into his Hangman persona. But his eyes—soft when they met hers—betrayed the man beneath the callsign.

"Text me when you get to her place," Jake told Bradley.

Bradley nodded. "Will do."

Jake was about to turn away when Nick called his name. He paused as she detached herself from Bradley and rushed to wrap her arms around him.

"Thank you, Jake."

Jake closed his eyes as he held her, one hand cradling the back of her head. "Anytime, darlin’," he murmured against her hair. "That’s what boyfriends are for, right?"

The word sent a warm flutter through Nick’s chest. She pulled back just enough to look up at him, surprised to see vulnerability in his usually confident gaze. Rising onto her tiptoes, she kissed him again, pouring her gratitude into it.

When they separated, Jake’s eyes had darkened. He cleared his throat and glanced at Bradley. "Take care of our girl."

Bradley’s gaze softened, the weight of the moment settling over him. "You know I will."

With visible reluctance, Jake stepped away, his hand trailing down Nick’s arm until their fingertips parted. He gave her one last look before slipping out of the alcove, his footsteps echoing across the hangar floor.

Bradley sighed, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. "Why don’t you grab your things? I’ll meet you at my car."

Nick nodded, drawing a deep breath. The emotional storm had passed, leaving her drained but somehow lighter. "Okay. Give me ten minutes."

Bradley’s hand cupped her cheek one last time. "I’ll be waiting. And Nick? It’s going to be alright."

She managed a wobbly smile before stepping back, straightening her blouse and running a hand through her disheveled hair. "I know. I know, and it’s all thanks to you and Jake."

Nick's apartment welcomed them with cool silence, the afternoon sun filtering through the partially drawn curtains. Bradley guided her inside with a steady hand at the small of her back, his presence solid and reassuring.

"Go change into something comfortable," he said, his voice low. "I'll make us something to eat."

Nick nodded, suddenly aware of how constricting her work clothes felt against her skin. She padded to her bedroom, the emotional exhaustion making her movements sluggish. After closing the door, she leaned against it for a moment, taking a deep breath.

Once she was out of her work clothes, she rifled through one of her drawers for something clean and soft to wear. Her fingers landed on Bradley's TOP GUN sweatshirt, and a small smile tugged at her lips. She had worn it after the rainstorm ruined their picnic, and the next morning, she had refused to take it off.

Nick slipped the sweatshirt over her head, inhaling the faint scent of Bradley that still clung to the fabric—a mix of clean laundry and the smoldering spice of his cologne, rich with black pepper, tobacco, and vanilla. It was sharp yet warm, unmistakably him, settling around her like an echo of his presence. The oversized garment swallowed her frame, the sleeves hanging past her fingertips. She paired it with soft sleep shorts and headed back to the kitchen, her bare feet silent against the hardwood floors.

Bradley stood at the stove, having shed his flight suit jacket, leaving him in a white T-shirt and uniform pants. The sight of him moving so effortlessly in her space sent a wave of warmth through her chest.

He turned at the sound of her approach, his eyes softening as they swept over her appearance. "Nice sweatshirt," he said, a small smile playing at his lips. "Looks better on you than it ever did on me."

Nick tugged at the hem self-consciously. "It's comfortable. And it smells like you."

Bradley's expression warmed further as he turned back to the stove. "I'm making grilled cheese and tomato soup. Nothing fancy, but it's comfort food."

Nick slid onto one of her kitchen barstools, watching his sure movements as he flipped a sandwich in the pan. There was something unexpectedly intimate about watching him here—not in the cockpit of a fighter jet, not suited up for training—but standing at her stove, completely at ease in her home.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "For being there for me today."

Bradley glanced over his shoulder, eyes steady. "You never have to thank me for that."

He slid the perfectly golden sandwich onto a plate and ladled steaming soup into a bowl beside it. After placing the meal in front of her, Bradley brushed a strand of hair from her face, his calloused fingers gentle against her skin.

"Eat," he encouraged, his voice soft but firm. "Your body needs fuel, especially after an emotional drop."

Nick picked up half the sandwich, suddenly aware of the hollow ache in her stomach. She hadn't realized how hungry she was until the rich aroma of melted cheese and butter hit her senses. The first bite nearly made her moan.

Bradley moved around the kitchen with quiet efficiency, making his own sandwich and texting Jake as promised. Once his food was ready, he settled onto the barstool beside her, their knees touching.

"Better?" he asked after she'd eaten half the sandwich and several spoonfuls of soup.

Nick nodded around a bite of her sandwich. “Not one hundred percent, but definitely better.”

Bradley went to dunk his own sandwich in t

he hot soup when his phone vibrated.

Bradley checked his phone, a smile playing at his lips. "Jake’s getting ready to head into his meeting. Just wanted to see how you're doing before it starts."

"Tell him I'm okay," Nick said softly, watching Bradley’s fingers tap out a response. "Tell him I miss him."

Bradley’s smile deepened as he typed. "Already did."

They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes, the simple meal warming Nick from the inside out. With each bite, she felt more grounded, the shaky, hollow feeling gradually receding.

"I feel so stupid," she finally admitted, staring into her half-empty soup bowl. "Breaking down like that at work."

Bradley set down his spoon and turned to face her fully. "Nick, look at me."

She reluctantly raised her eyes to meet his.

"What happened today was a physical and emotional response to something intense and new. It wasn't weakness. It wasn't stupid." His voice was firm but gentle. "It was your body and mind processing everything that happened between us."

Nick swallowed a lump in her throat. "I just hate feeling like this. I used to get panic attacks a lot, and this felt very similar. I always felt ridiculous every time I got one."

Bradley’s expression softened, his brown eyes warming with understanding. "There’s nothing ridiculous about your body's natural responses. Panic attacks, sub-drop—they’re both physical reactions to emotional states."

He reached over, taking her hand in his. His thumb traced gentle circles against her palm, the callouses on his fingertips creating a delicious friction against her skin.

"You know what pilots learn in training?" he asked, his voice low. "That our bodies will react to stress whether we want them to or not. Fighting those responses only makes them worse."

Nick leaned into his touch. "So what do you do instead?"

"We acknowledge them. Accept them. Work with them instead of against them." Bradley’s fingers intertwined with hers. "The strongest pilots aren't the ones who never feel fear—they're the ones who feel it and fly anyway."

Something about his words resonated deep within her.

Bradley’s fingers tightened around hers. "When I get up in that cockpit, I feel afraid sometimes. So does Jake, though he’d probably rather crash than admit it."

Nick’s lips quirked up slightly. "Yeah, that sounds like him."

"The point is," Bradley continued, "we don’t overcome fear by pretending it doesn’t exist. We acknowledge it, respect it, and then make it work for us instead of against us." His thumb traced the delicate bones of her wrist. "Same goes for what you're feeling now."

Nick stared at their intertwined hands, processing his words. "So I should just... accept that I had an emotional crash?"

"Accept it. Understand it." Bradley’s voice was steady, reassuring. "And know that Jake and I are here to help you through it."

She nodded slowly, finishing the last of her soup. "That was perfect. Thank you."

He smiled. "What would you like to do now? I can run you a hot bath, set up the hot tub, or tuck you into bed with some TV."

Nick considered his suggestions, the warmth of the food in her belly making her realize just how physically and emotionally drained she truly was.

"A bath sounds amazing, but..." she hesitated, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

"But?" Bradley prompted gently.

"Would you join me?" The vulnerability in her voice was unmistakable. "I don’t want to be alone right now."

Bradley’s gaze grew tender as he reached for her hand, squeezing gently instead of tucking her hair away. "Of course I will."

He stood, gathering their empty plates and placing them in the sink before leading her toward the bathroom. Nick let him guide her, watching as he moved with practiced efficiency, turning on the faucet and testing the temperature with his wrist.

"Do you have any bath salts or oils?" he asked, glancing around the ne

at bathroom.

Nick pointed to a cabinet beside the sink.

Bradley opened the cabinet, revealing a small collection of bath products. He selected a bottle of lavender bath oil, pouring a generous amount into the running water. The scent immediately filled the bathroom—herbal, calming, familiar.

"Lavender helps with stress," he said, catching her questioning look. "My mother used to swear by it."

Nick smiled softly at this glimpse into his life. "Your mom sounds smart."

"She was," Bradley said simply, a flicker of old grief passing across his features before he turned back to the filling tub.

The intimacy of the moment struck Nick—not the physical closeness they were about to share, but this quiet emotional openness. Bradley rarely spoke of his family, of the mother he'd lost too young and the father whose shadow still loomed large over both their lives.

Steam curled into the air as Bradley turned to her. "May I?"

Nick nodded, lifting her arms slightly as Bradley’s hands found the hem of his sweatshirt. He pulled it over her head with gentle efficiency, his gaze steady. There was nothing heated in his expression—just tenderness, quiet care, something that made her chest tighten.

Instead of tucking her hair behind her ear, Bradley smoothed his palm down her arm, reassuring in its warmth.

When his fingers brushed against the waistband of her sleep shorts, Nick caught her breath. Bradley paused, his eyes searching her face.

"Is this okay?" he asked, his voice low.

"Yes," she whispered, trusting him completely. "It's okay."

He slowly slid the shorts down her legs, his touch reverent. When she stood before him in just her underwear, Bradley pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.

"You're beautiful," he murmured against her skin.

Nick's eyes stung with unexpected tears. Not from embarrassment or vulnerability, but from the simple, honest care in his voice. Bradley seemed to notice, his thumbs gently wiping away the moisture before it could fall.

"No more tears today," he said softly, echoing Jake's earlier words.

Nick nodded, reaching for the hem of his t-shirt. "Your turn."

Bradley allowed her to undress him, standing still as her fingers worked at removing his clothing. Unlike their passionate encounter the night before, this disrobing was unhurried, tender. When they both stood naked, Bradley tested the water once more before stepping into the tub and holding out his hand to help her in.

She took his hand and let him help her into the tub. Once her feet were firmly in the water they both sat down, letting the warmth envelope them.

"This is nice," Nick murmured, her head resting against his shoulder.

Bradley's hands moved in slow, soothing circles across her shoulders, his thumbs working at the knots of tension there. "You're carrying a lot of stress here," he observed, his touch gentle but firm.

Nick closed her eyes, surrendering to his ministrations. "Hazard of the job. Staring at screens, blueprints, and leaning over engines all day."

"Hmm," Bradley hummed against her hair, his breath warm against her ear. "And the emotional crash probably didn't help."

She sighed, sinking deeper into the water. "No, it didn't."

Bradley's hands continued their gentle exploration, working down her arms, then back up to her shoulders. His touch was therapeutic rather than sexual, focused entirely on her comfort and relaxation.

"You know," he said softly, "what happened between us last night wasn't just physical for me and Jake."

Nick's eyes remained closed, but she tilted her head slightly, listening.

"I've never experienced anything like that before," Bradley continued, his voice low and intimate in the steamy bathroom. "Not just the sex, though that was... incredible. But the connection. The three of us together."

Nick felt a flutter in her chest at his words. "Me neither," she admitted. "It was like... like flying, but better."

Bradley chuckled softly, the sound rumbling through his chest against her back. "Better than any flight I've been on that's for sure.”

Nick laughed softly, the sound breaking the tension that had lingered around her all day. "That's saying something, coming from one of Top Gun's finest."

Bradley pressed a kiss to her damp shoulder, his lips lingering against her skin. "I mean it, Nick. What we have—what we're building together—it's special."

The sincerity in his voice wrapped around her like a warm blanket. Nick leaned back further into his embrace, letting the water lap gently around them. For several minutes, they simply existed together in comfortable silence, the only sounds the occasional drip from the faucet and their synchronized breathing.

"Bradley?" Nick finally whispered, her voice barely audible over the quiet splashing of the water.

"Hmm?" His fingers traced lazy patterns along her upper arms.

"I'm scared." The admission fell from her lips before she could reconsider it.

“About what beautiful?”

Nick swallowed hard, gathering her courage. "About this. Us. What happens when everyone finds out? What happens when my father discovers I'm dating not one, but two of his pilots?" She shifted slightly to look up at Bradley's face. "What if it interferes with your careers? With my job?"

Bradley's arms tightened around her, his expression thoughtful. "Those are valid concerns," he said, his voice low and steady. "But we'll figure it out together."

"My dad would lose his mind," Nick whispered. "He's always been so protective, and this... this would be beyond anything he could have imagined for me."

Bradley's thumb traced gentle circles on her shoulder. "Mav loves you. It might take time, but he'd come around."

"And what about the Navy? The fraternization rules—"

"Technically," Bradley interrupted gently, "you're not apart of the Navy. And Jake and I aren’t dating each other. We’re just dating you.”

Nick considered Bradley’s words, chewing her bottom lip thoughtfully. "So... just to make sure I understand—we're not two separate relationships happening at the same time. This is something different. Something that's ours."

Bradley met her gaze, his expression steady. "Exactly. It’s not about being separate. It’s about the three of us building something together."

The water lapped gently around them as Nick let his words settle. "And you two are okay with… sharing me?"

Bradley’s grip on her tightened slightly, reassuring. "It’s not about sharing, Nick. It’s about us being what each other needs. Jake and I—our connection is different. Not romantic, not sexual. But we trust each other, and we’re both committed to this."

Nick tilted her head, watching him carefully. "So you’re... becoming friends?"

Bradley huffed a quiet laugh. "I don’t know if I’d go that far."

Nick smirked. "You sure about that? Because from where I’m sitting, you seem like friends."

Bradley's lips curved against her temple in a slow smile. "Maybe you're right. Maybe this thing with you is changing everything."

Nick felt a flutter in her chest. "And what exactly is this?"

Bradley’s voice softened, his thumb tracing lazy circles against her damp skin. "It’s something that matters. Something worth protecting, worth caring for. Something worth fighting for."

The sincerity in Bradley’s voice made Nick’s throat tighten. She turned in his arms, water sloshing gently over the edge of the tub as she shifted to face him. His brown eyes were warm, open—revealing a vulnerability she rarely glimpsed beneath his composed exterior.

"I feel the same way about both of you," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "And it terrifies me how quickly this happened. How intense it feels."

Bradley brushed his thumb across her cheek, his touch grounding. "Some things don’t follow a timeline, Nick. What we have... it may have happened fast, but that doesn’t make it any less real."

Nick leaned into his touch, the warm water enveloping them like a cocoon. It made voicing her deepest fears easier. "What if I’m not enough? For both of you?"

Bradley’s expression softened, his gaze never wavering. "That’s not possible. You’re more than enough."

"But what if—"

"Nick," Bradley interrupted gently, his hands framing her face. "The way you connect with each of us is unique. What you share with Jake isn’t the same as what you share with me, and that’s exactly how it should be. You don’t have to be everything to everyone."

She closed her eyes, letting his words settle. "And what if it all falls apart? What if we can’t make it work?"

"Then we’ll face that together too." Bradley’s voice was steady, grounding. "But I believe this—us—is worth the risk."

Nick searched his eyes, finding nothing but sincerity. Slowly, she nodded, allowing herself to believe in the possibility of them—this unconventional trio navigating uncharted waters together.

"The water’s getting cold," she murmured, suddenly aware of the dropping temperature.

Bradley pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "Let’s get you dried off and into bed. You need rest."

The water was indeed cooling, breaking the spell of their intimate conversation. Bradley stood first, water streaming down his muscular frame as he reached for a towel. He wrapped it around his waist before grabbing another and holding it open for Nick.

"Come here," he said softly.

Nick rose from the bath, suddenly feeling shy despite their intimacy the night before. This vulnerability was different—emotional rather than physical. Bradley enveloped her in the towel, his movements gentle as he patted her skin dry.

"Let me take care of you," he murmured, running the soft fabric over her shoulders and down her arms.

Nick allowed herself to be tended to, Bradley's careful ministrations soothing something deep within her. When he'd dried her thoroughly, he reached for his discarded sweatshirt.

"Arms up," he instructed softly.

Bradley's hands were gentle as he guided the sweatshirt down over her body, the soft fabric falling to mid-thigh. The tenderness in his movements made Nick's heart constrict. This wasn't the rushed passion of last night, but something equally intimate—a quiet demonstration of care that spoke volumes.

"Better?" he asked, his voice low.

Nick nodded, suddenly overwhelmed by exhaustion. The emotional rollercoaster of the day, combined with the warmth of the bath, had drained what little energy she had left. Bradley seemed to notice, his arm coming around her waist to steady her.

"Let’s get you to bed," he said softly, guiding her toward the bedroom.

The cool sheets welcomed Nick as Bradley helped her settle in. She expected him to join her, but instead, he tucked the comforter around her and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Aren’t you going to lay in bed and watch TV with me?" she all but pouted.

Bradley’s expression softened at her tone. "Of course I am. I just need to grab my phone, see if Jake messaged us."

He disappeared briefly, returning with his phone in hand. After quickly checking the screen, his expression warmed. "Jake’s meeting is running longer than expected. He says to tell you he’ll be here as soon as he can escape Cyclone’s clutches."

Nick smiled sleepily, lifting the comforter in invitation. Bradley slid in beside her, now wearing only his boxers. The heat of his body immediately warmed the space as he reached for the remote on her nightstand.

"What do you want to watch?" he asked, his arm coming around her shoulders.

Nick nestled against his side, her head finding the perfect spot on his chest where she could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. She watched as he scrolled the guide, speaking up when he landed on a show she liked. "I love The Big Bang Theory. Can we watch that?"

Bradley smiled, clicking on the episode. "Sure."

Nick snuggled closer as the familiar theme song played, the warmth of Bradley’s body and the soothing hum of the sitcom lulling her into a state of peaceful relaxation. His fingers traced lazy patterns on her shoulder through the sweatshirt, each touch grounding her further.

"Thank you," she murmured against his chest, her eyelids growing heavy.

"For what?" Bradley’s voice rumbled beneath her ear.

"For today. For understanding. For being exactly what I needed." Nick’s words were slightly slurred with approaching sleep.

Bradley pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "You never have to thank me for that."

She fought to keep her eyes open, wanting to savor this moment of perfect contentment, but the emotional exhaustion of the day was catching up with her. The last thing she remembered before drifting off was the steady sound of Bradley’s heartbeat beneath her cheek and his voice softly humming along with the TV theme song. His fingers continued their gentle exploration, tracing idle patterns across her arm and back. The sensation was both comforting and intimate, lulling her deeper into relaxation.

"Sleep if you need to," Bradley murmured, his lips brushing against her hair. "I’ll be right here when you wake up."

Nick wanted to respond, to thank him again for his unwavering support, but exhaustion pulled her under. Her breathing deepened as she surrendered to sleep, secure in Bradley’s protective embrace.

She drifted through layers of consciousness, vaguely aware of Bradley adjusting the blankets around her, of his phone vibrating with incoming messages, of his voice—low and soothing—as he spoke to someone, presumably Jake. The familiar sounds anchored her as she floated into a peaceful slumber.

The soft click of the front door roused Bradley from his thoughts. He glanced up from the living room, where he’d been quietly unpacking the last of Nick’s boxes while she slept, to see Jake entering the apartment. Jake had changed into civilian clothes—dark jeans and a fitted white Henley—with his Wayfarers perched atop his head.

"How is she?" Jake asked immediately, his voice low as he set his keys on the counter.

Bradley nodded toward the bedroom. "Sleeping. She was wiped."

Jake’s usual cocky demeanor had softened, concern flickering in the lines around his eyes as he peered through the partially open bedroom door. "Has she been out the whole time?"

"Pretty much," Bradley confirmed, folding the empty cardboard box and setting it aside. "She crashed right after our bath."

Jake raised an eyebrow. "Bath, huh?"

Bradley shot him a look. "Not that kind of bath, Hangman."

Jake smirked but shook his head. "Sorry—force of habit." He reached up, pulled his sunglasses from his head, and set them down next to his keys before running a hand through his hair. The casual gesture did little to mask his concern. "How bad was she when you got here?"

"Better than at the hangar," Bradley said, moving to the fridge and pulling out two beers. He offered one to Jake, who accepted with a nod. "The food and bath helped. She opened up about some of her fears."

Jake twisted off the bottle cap and took a long pull. "Fears about us? About this… thing between the three of us?"

Bradley leaned against the counter, nodding. "Mostly about her dad finding out. And how it could affect our careers."

"Valid concerns," Jake admitted, his tone unusually serious. "What did you tell her?"

"That we’d figure it out together." Bradley’s gaze met Jake’s over the rim of his beer bottle. "That this is worth it."

A slow smile tugged at the corner of Jake’s mouth—nothing cocky, just something real. "Good answer."

He took another swig of beer before setting the bottle down and heading for the bedroom doorway. "I’m gonna check on her."

Jake moved quietly into the room, his footsteps barely audible on the carpet. Nick lay curled on her side, her face peaceful in sleep, Bradley’s oversized TOP GUN sweatshirt swallowing her petite frame. Like this, she looked younger, vulnerable in a way she rarely allowed herself to be when awake.

He lowered himself onto the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb her. His hand hovered over her shoulder before brushing a strand of hair from her face with unexpected tenderness. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, lingering for a moment before pulling back—but Nick stirred just as he moved to stand.

"Jake?" she murmured, voice thick with sleep. Her eyes fluttered open, slowly focusing on his face.

"Hey, darlin'," he said softly, his usual swagger replaced by something gentler. "Didn’t mean to wake you."

She reached for his hand, fingers curling around his. "You’re here."

Jake’s smile warmed. "Course I am. Told you I’d come as soon as I could."

Nick shifted, making room for him on the bed. "How was your meeting with my dad?"

"Boring as hell," Jake admitted. "Cyclone wanted to go over new protocols for a possible mission. Even Mav looked like he wanted to bolt."

"Sounds awful," she slurred.

"Go back to sleep," he murmured. "We’ll wake you when it’s dinner time."

Nick stared at Jake through half-lidded eyes, her exhaustion winning out. "Mkay," she whispered, drifting off once more.

Jake watched her sleep, her features relaxing as unconsciousness reclaimed her. He stayed there for a long moment, simply observing—the way her lashes fanned across her cheeks, the steady rise and fall of her breath. Something unfamiliar tightened in his chest—an emotion he wasn’t quite ready to name.

When he finally returned to the kitchen, Bradley was leaning against the counter, nursing his beer with a thoughtful expression.

"Still out?" Bradley asked.

Jake nodded, retrieving his own beer. "Like a light. Woke up for a second, but crashed again." He took a long pull from the bottle. "Never seen her like this."

Bradley exhaled, rolling the bottle between his palms. "Sub-drop hits everyone differently, I guess. I never even heard of it until you sent me that article." He took a sip. "Today was the first time I actually saw it happen."

"Me too."

Jake settled onto one of the barstools, his usual swagger momentarily set aside. "You know, when I first met Nick, I thought she’d be just another conquest. A challenge." He shook his head, a rueful smile playing at his lips. "I had no idea…"

"That she’d get under your skin?" Bradley finished, his expression knowing.

"Yeah." Jake ran a hand through his dark hair. "Or that I’d be sharing her with you, of all people."

Bradley raised an eyebrow. "Having second thoughts?"

"Hell no," Jake replied without hesitation. "What we have… it works. I don’t know how, but somehow it just does."

They fell into a comfortable silence, the hum of the refrigerator, TV, and Nick’s steady breathing the only sounds filling the apartment. Despite their initial rivalry, despite the unconventional nature of their situation, they had become close. Maybe even friends, though neither would say it outright.

Jake’s gaze drifted toward the bedroom door. "What do you think about ordering dinner? She’ll probably be hungry when she wakes up."

Bradley nodded, setting his beer down. "Good idea. Thai? She mentioned liking that place on Third Street."

"Perfect." Jake pulled out his phone and started scrolling through a delivery app. "Pad Thai for her, green curry for me, and…" he glanced up at Bradley. "What about you?"

"Red curry, extra spicy," Bradley supplied.

Jake’s lips quirked up in a half-smile. "Should’ve guessed. Always gotta one-up me, don’t you, Rooster?"

There was no bite to the words, just the familiar rhythm of their banter. Bradley shook his head, a small smile playing at his lips. "Not everything’s a competition, Hangman."

"Says the guy ordering his food as a test of endurance," Jake muttered, his eyes still on his phone as he placed the order. "Food will be here in forty-five minutes."

Bradley finished his beer and set the empty bottle on the counter. "Should we wake her when it gets here?"

Jake glanced toward the bedroom, his expression softening. "Let’s see how deeply she’s sleeping. If she’s still out, we can always reheat it for her later."

He stood, stretching his tall frame. Bradley’s gaze flicked toward him briefly, noting the effortless strength in his movements. For a moment, neither spoke, something unspoken settling in the space between them. They were different in nearly every way—Jake with his cocky confidence and impulsiveness, Bradley with his steady pragmatism and careful thought. Yet somehow, they had landed in the same place.

"I never thought I’d say this," Jake admitted, his voice quieter, "but I’m glad you’re here, Rooster. For her. She needs both of us."

Bradley nodded, a flicker of surprise passing over his features at Jake’s sincerity. "She does. In different ways, but yeah… she needs us both."

Jake exhaled slowly. "When I saw her crying in that hangar today… I’ve never felt so damn helpless."

"I know," Bradley said quietly. "That’s why we need to be better prepared next time. Make sure she never crashes that hard again."

Jake met Bradley’s gaze, something unspoken settling into place between them. "Agreed. Whatever she needs, whenever she needs it."

Bradley extended his hand, the gesture simple but weighted. "Partners?"

Jake grasped it firmly, his green eyes steady. "Partners."

The word lingered between them, carrying more weight than either had expected. Not just partners in caring for Nick—but in figuring out what this meant for all of them.

The moment was interrupted by a soft sound from the bedroom. Both men turned as Nick appeared, Bradley's oversized sweatshirt hanging to mid-thigh, her dark hair tousled from sleep. She blinked in the kitchen light, looking between them with groggy curiosity.

"Hey," she murmured, her voice still husky. "What are you two plotting?"

Jake's trademark smirk returned as he released Bradley's hand. "Just ordering dinner, darlin’. Thai food from that place you like."

Nick padded barefoot into the kitchen, drawn by the casual domesticity of the scene—her two pilots, relaxed and chatting as if they'd been doing this forever.

Jake sat back down and patted his lap. "Come here, sleeping beauty."

A sleepy smile curved her lips as she crossed to him, letting Jake pull her onto his lap. She settled against his chest, legs draped across his thighs, and sighed as his arms wrapped securely around her waist.

"How are you feeling?" Bradley asked, standing beside them, his hand resting gently on her shoulder.

Nick leaned into his touch while remaining nestled in Jake’s embrace. "Better." She looked between them, her expression soft with gratitude. "I really mean it—thank you both."

Jake pressed a kiss to her temple. "No thanks needed, darlin’. That’s why we’re here."

Nick traced a lazy pattern on Jake’s sleeve, voice tinged with curiosity. "Did you two have a heart-to-heart while I was sleeping?"

Jake chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest against her. "Something like that."

"We've come to an understanding," Bradley added, his hand still resting on her shoulder.

Nick raised an eyebrow. "Should I be worried?"

"Not at all," Jake assured her, arms tightening slightly around her waist. "Just making sure we're on the same page about taking care of you."

"I don’t need to be taken care of," Nick muttered, though there was no bite to her words.

Bradley brushed a strand of hair from her face, his expression soft. "Everyone does sometimes. Even the strongest people."

"Especially the strongest people," Jake added, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. "Because they’re usually the last ones to admit it."

Nick looked between them, these two men who had somehow become her anchors. The day’s emotional turbulence had stripped away her usual walls, leaving her too raw for pretense.

"I’m not used to this," she admitted quietly. "Letting people see me when I’m not… together."

Jake’s thumb traced small circles against her hip. "Well, get used to it, darlin’. Because we’re not going anywhere."

"Promise?"

Bradley knelt before her, taking her hands in his. "Promise," he echoed, his voice steady. His dark eyes held hers, something in them making her breath catch. "You don’t have to be strong all the time, Nick. Not with us."

Jake tightened his hold around her waist, his chest solid against her back. "What he said," he murmured against her hair. "We’ve got you."

Nick felt a prickle of tears—not the overwhelming storm from earlier, but something gentler, warmer. She blinked them away, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"I guess you’re stuck with me then," she said softly.

"Wouldn’t have it any other way," Jake replied, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

The warmth in their voices settled around her like a security blanket, replacing the hollow ache that had consumed her earlier.

"So," she said, clearing her throat, "you ordered Thai?"

"From that place on Third you like," Jake confirmed, fingers tracing idle patterns against her hip. "Should be here in about half an hour."

"Perfect," Nick murmured, leaning back against Jake while keeping her hands linked with Bradley's. "I'm starving."

Bradley smiled, giving her hands a gentle squeeze before rising to his feet. "Good. You need to eat."

"Yes, sir," she teased, some of her usual spark returning.

Jake chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest against her back. "There she is. Our girl’s coming back to us."

"All thanks to you two."

Jake kept his arm around Nick's waist, his fingers playing idly with the hem of the oversized sweatshirt she wore. "You know, that's becoming my favorite look on you," he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. "Bradley's clothes, bed-head, and that sleepy smile."

Nick felt a blush creep up her neck. "I must look a mess."

"You look perfect," Bradley countered, leaning against the counter as he watched them, his gaze warm and appreciative.

Jake nodded, his hand sliding to her thigh, just below the sweatshirt’s hem. The touch was possessive but gentle, his thumb tracing small circles against her skin. "Exactly what I was thinking."

Nick smirked, tilting her head slightly. "I bet I’d look just as good in something you own."

Jake’s eyes flickered with interest, the corner of his mouth tugging into a familiar smirk. "Darlin', you’d look incredible in anything of mine." His fingers traced higher on her thigh, just beneath the sweatshirt's hem. "Though I gotta admit, seeing you in nothing but my dog tags would be something else."

Nick's breath caught at the image, heat blooming low in her belly despite her lingering exhaustion. Bradley watched them, his expression warming as he observed their interaction.

"I think that could be arranged," Nick replied, her voice taking on a teasing lilt. The emotional rawness from earlier was receding, replaced by the comfort of their easy banter.

Bradley moved to the refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of water. He uncapped it and handed it to Nick. "Which we can save for another night. Tonight should be all of us, especially you relaxing."

Nick accepted the water gratefully, taking a long sip. The cool liquid soothed her throat, reminding her how dehydrated the emotional day had left her.

"You're right," she admitted, leaning back against Jake's solid chest. "I don't think I have the energy for anything more strenuous than eating Thai food and watching a movie."

Jake's arms tightened around her, his chin resting on her shoulder. "Whatever you need, darlin'. We're just happy to be here with you."

The sincerity in his voice, so different from his usual cockiness, made something warm unwind in Nick's chest. She glanced at Bradley, finding the same genuine care reflected in his steady gaze.

"How about we move this to the couch?" Bradley suggested, nodding toward the living room. "More comfortable than kitchen stools."

Jake stood with Nick still in his arms, lifting her effortlessly as she let out a surprised squeak. "Show-off," she mumbled against his neck, though she made no move to protest as he carried her to the living room.

"You love it," Jake replied, his voice warm with affection as he settled onto the couch with Nick in his lap.

Bradley followed, carrying Nick's water and his own. He sat beside them, close enough that his thigh pressed against Jake's, Nick's bare feet naturally coming to rest in his lap. Without thinking, his fingers began to massage her arches, drawing a contented sigh from her lips.

"That feels amazing," she murmured, her body gradually relaxing further between the two men.

Jake's arms remained securely around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder as Bradley continued the gentle foot massage. The three of them fit together with surprising ease.

“I never realized til now what tiny feet you have.”

Nick wiggled her toes under Bradley's touch, a small smile playing at her lips. "Are you saying I have dainty feet, Rooster?"

Bradley's fingers worked magic on her arches, his touch firm yet gentle. "I'm saying they're perfectly proportioned to the rest of you."

Jake nuzzled against her neck, his breath warm against her skin. "Everything about you is perfect, darlin'."

Nick rolled her eyes, but couldn't suppress the warmth spreading through her chest at their words. "You two are incorrigible."

"Big word for someone who just woke up," Jake teased, his lips brushing against her pulse point.

The doorbell rang, interrupting their moment of domestic tranquility. Bradley gave her foot one final squeeze before standing. "That'll be dinner."

Nick made to move from Jake's lap, but his arms tightened around her waist, keeping her firmly in place.

"Where do you think you're going?" Jake murmured against her ear, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine.

"To get plates?" she offered, though she made no real effort to escape his embrace.

"Bradley's got it," Jake said, pressing a soft kiss to the sensitive spot just below her ear. "Your job right now is to stay right here and keep letting us take care of you."

Nick relaxed back against Jake, watching as Bradley paid for their food and brought the fragrant bags to the coffee table. There was something mesmerizing about seeing these two skilled pilots—men trained for precision and control—engaged in something as simple as unpacking dinner.

Bradley opened the containers, releasing the spicy-sweet aroma of Thai food into the room.

He went to hand Nick her meal, but Jake took it instead, flicking open the container and grabbing a fork.

"What are you—"

"Open," Jake interrupted, his tone casual but firm.

Nick blinked at his sudden command, but the tenderness in his expression made her comply. She opened her mouth, and Jake carefully fed her a bite of pad Thai. The flavors exploded on her tongue—sweet, salty, tangy, with just enough warmth to settle deep in her chest.

"Good?" he asked, his voice uncharacteristically gentle.

Nick nodded, swallowing before speaking. "Perfect." A blush crept up her cheeks as she glanced between Jake and Bradley. "But I can feed myself, you know."

Bradley settled beside them, opening his own container of red curry. "We know," he said simply. "But tonight is about taking care of you."

Jake offered her another bite, which she accepted with less hesitation. There was something unexpectedly comforting about being fed this way, cradled in Jake’s lap while Bradley sat close enough that his presence grounded her.

"But what about your food? Won't it get cold?"

Jake chuckled, taking a bite of his own curry before offering Nick another forkful of pad Thai. "I can multitask, darlin'."

Bradley watched them with a soft expression, his usual intensity mellowed in the relaxed atmosphere. "We both can."

Nick accepted the next bite, gradually surrendering to their care. The Thai food was exactly what she needed—warm, flavorful, soothing. The three of them ate in companionable silence, the only sounds their quiet appreciation of the meal and the occasional clink of utensils against containers.

"This is nice," Nick finally murmured, leaning back against Jake’s chest. "Weird, but nice."

"Weird how?" Bradley asked, raising an eyebrow.

Nick gestured vaguely with her hand. "Being fed like I’m a toddler."

Jake chuckled, the vibration rumbling through his chest against her back. "Not like a toddler, darlin'. Like someone precious."

"Someone who deserves to be taken care of," Bradley added, his gaze warm as it met hers.

Nick felt her cheeks flush at their words. She’d always prided herself on her independence, on never needing anyone. But here, nestled between these two men, she found herself surrendering to their care with surprising ease.

"I’m not used to this," she admitted softly, accepting another bite from Jake. "Being the one who needs taking care of."

"Get used to it," Jake murmured against her hair. "Because we’re not stopping anytime soon."

Bradley reached over, his hand finding hers. "Not ever, if we have anything to say about it."

The simple declaration settled something in Nick’s chest, and again she wanted to tell them she loved them. But just like last night, she kept it to herself.

Nick’s heart skipped a beat at Bradley’s words. The intensity in his eyes matched the quiet certainty in his voice. She glanced back at Jake, finding the same conviction in his expression, though tempered with his characteristic playfulness.

"So this is really happening," she said softly, more statement than question. "The three of us."

Jake’s arm tightened around her waist. "Oh, it’s happening, darlin'. Has been since that first night."

Bradley nodded, his thumb tracing gentle circles on her palm. "I think we all knew it then, even if we couldn’t name it yet."

Nick took another bite of pad Thai, using the moment to collect her thoughts. The emotional rollercoaster of the day had left her raw, exposed in ways she rarely allowed herself to be. Yet here, nestled between these two men, she felt strangely protected.

“Do you want anymore?” Jake asked.

Nick shook her head, setting the half-empty container on the coffee table. "No, I'm full. Thank you."

Jake pressed a kiss to her temple, his lips lingering against her skin. "Good girl."

The simple praise sent a warm flutter through her chest, different from the heated desire his words usually evoked. This was comfort, security—a feeling of being treasured.

Bradley finished his curry and set the container aside, his hand returning to rest on her ankle. His thumb traced idle patterns against her skin as he watched her with those steady brown eyes.

"What do you want to do now?" Jake asked, his voice low and gentle. "We could watch TV, or just talk, or if you're still tired..."

Nick considered the options, acutely aware of the warmth of Jake’s chest against her back and Bradley’s steady hand resting near her ankle. The emotional exhaustion had faded, replaced by a comfortable relaxation.

"We could watch the Dodgers game in bed," she suggested, settling deeper into Jake’s lap. The storm had passed, leaving behind a peaceful calm that felt both foreign and familiar.

"You heard the lady," Jake said to Bradley, his voice warm with affection. "Dodgers in bed it is."

Bradley gathered their empty containers, clearing the coffee table with efficient movements. "I’ll clean up dinner while you two get settled."

Jake tightened his arms around her waist. "Ready for bed, darlin’?" he murmured, his breath warm against her ear.

Nick nodded, allowing him to lift her effortlessly.

Jake carried Nick to the bedroom, her arms looped around his neck. The intimacy of the gesture wasn’t lost on her—this cocky pilot, known for his swagger and bravado, cradling her with such quiet tenderness.

"You don’t have to carry me everywhere, you know," she murmured, though she made no move to pull away.

Jake’s lips curved into that familiar half-smile as he set her down gently on the bed. "Maybe I just like having you in my arms, Mitchell."

There was something in his voice—a vulnerability beneath the teasing tone—that made Nick’s heart flutter. She watched as he moved around her room with unexpected familiarity, finding the remote and fluffing pillows against the headboard with one hand while the other rested lightly at her side.

Jake adjusted the pillows behind her, movements careful and deliberate. "Comfortable?"

Nick nodded, pulling Bradley’s sweatshirt down over her thighs as she leaned back against the headboard. "Perfect."

Jake's eyes darkened as they swept over her, taking in the sight of her bare legs and tousled hair. "You have no idea what you do to me, looking like that."

Before Nick could respond, Bradley appeared in the doorway, his tall frame filling the space. He was dressed casually in a t-shirt and boxers, his gaze sweeping over them. "Everything okay in here?"

"Better than okay," Jake replied, his eyes still on Nick. He straightened, moving to the other side of the bed. "Our girl's all settled in."

"I just need my boys to cuddle me."

Bradley's expression softened at her words. In three easy strides, he crossed the room and settled onto the bed beside her, the mattress dipping under his weight. Jake was already kicking off his shoes and shucking his jeans, leaving him in a fitted henley and boxer briefs.

"Your boys, huh?" Jake repeated, a pleased grin spreading across his face as he slid under the covers on her other side. "I like the sound of that."

Nick found herself enveloped between them—Bradley's steady warmth on her left, Jake's lean strength on her right. She sighed as Bradley reached for the remote, finding the Dodgers game already in the bottom of the first inning.

"Who's winning?" Jake asked, his arm sliding around her waist, pulling her closer.

"Dodgers up by two," Bradley replied, his hand closing gently over Nick’s, holding it against his chest.

Nick nestled between them, the familiar hum of the baseball game creating a comforting backdrop to the quiet intimacy of the moment. Bradley's thumb traced lazy circles on the back of her hand while Jake’s fingers idly played with the hem of her sweatshirt. The ease of it struck her—how quickly they'd fallen into this pattern of casual touch and shared space.

"This is nice," she murmured, her head finding the perfect spot against Jake’s shoulder.

"Mmm," Jake agreed, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Though I never pegged you for a baseball fan, Mitchell."

Nick smiled, watching as the Dodgers' pitcher struck out another batter. "My dad and I used to watch games together when I was growing up. It was our thing, especially after my parents divorced."

Bradley's grip on her hand tightened slightly. "Maverick doesn’t strike me as a baseball fan."

"Oh, trust me, he is. Whenever the Dodgers needed some extra luck, he'd bring out his lucky bat."

"His lucky bat?" Jake laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest against her. "Captain Mitchell had a lucky bat? Now that’s something I never expected."

Nick smiled at the memory, sinking deeper into the comfort of their embrace. "It was an old wooden thing from when he played in high school. He’d wave it around during crucial plays, convinced it channeled good energy to the team."

Bradley’s thumb kept tracing soft patterns against her knuckles. "Did it work?"

"Sometimes," Nick said with a quiet laugh. "But I think it was more about us believing it worked. Those were some of my favorite memories with him—just the two of us, eating hot dogs and waving that ridiculous bat around."

Jake’s arm tightened slightly around her waist. "You two really are close, huh?"

"We are. Not that my mom and I aren’t, but I was always a daddy’s girl," Nick admitted, a hint of a smile playing at her lips. "Even when he was deployed, he’d send me postcards from every port. Sometimes just a line or two, but I kept every single one."

Bradley’s expression softened as he listened. "That explains a lot about you."

Nick turned slightly to face him. "What do you mean?"

"Your determination. Your loyalty." Bradley’s voice was gentle. "The way you never back down from a challenge."

Jake’s fingers traced idle patterns near her hip. "And your stubbornness," he added with a

smirk. "Definitely got that from Maverick."

Nick jabbed Jake playfully with her elbow. "Watch it, Hangman."

"He's not wrong," Bradley added with a smirk.

Nick scoffed. "He's going to kill you both when he finds out about this, you know."

Jake chuckled, though a flicker of genuine concern passed beneath his bravado. "Worth it."

"Absolutely worth it," Bradley agreed, his voice steady.

Nick lifted her chin. "Well, if he or anyone tries anything, I'll protect you both."

Jake laughed, eyes crinkling with amusement. "You'll protect us? From Maverick? That's adorable, darlin'."

Nick narrowed her eyes, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. "I'll have you know, I can be very intimidating when I want to be."

Bradley’s arm curved around her shoulders, pulling her in. "Of course you are, baby."

Nick huffed, a petulant frown crossing her face. "Okay, so maybe I couldn't physically intimidate him. But I have other weapons in my arsenal."

Jake arched a brow, clearly intrigued. "Do tell, darlin'."

"Emotional manipulation," Nick said, her grin mischievous. "I've been wrapping my father around my little finger since I was born. One tearful 'Daddy, please,' and he melts like ice cream in July."

Bradley chuckled. "I can actually see that working. The man who never backs down from anything, completely defenseless against his daughter's tears."

"It's my superpower," Nick confirmed, nestling deeper between them. On the television, the Dodgers scored another run, but none of them were paying much attention anymore.

Jake stifled a yawn, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. "Sorry," he murmured. "That meeting with Cyclone and your dad drained me."

Nick studied his face, noting the faint shadows beneath his eyes. "You're tired. Both of you probably are after dealing with me all day."

Bradley’s fingers threaded through her hair, his touch soothing. "We're fine. Tonight is about you."

"No," Nick said firmly, surprising both men with the sudden authority in her voice. "Tonight is about us. All of us." She shifted, pulling the blankets higher around them. "You’ve both been taking care of me all day. Let me take care of you now."

Jake shook his head. "I'm fine, darlin'."

"No, you’re not," Nick countered. "You should get some rest."

Jake looked ready to protest, but Nick pressed a finger to his lips. "No arguments. You’ve been up since dawn, had a full day of flying, sat through hours of meetings with my father and Cyclone, then rushed over here to take care of me. You’re exhausted."

The gentle authority in her voice seemed to catch Jake off guard. He caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm.

"Yes, ma'am," he murmured, a tired smile playing at his lips.

Nick reached for the remote, lowering the volume on the game. She adjusted, making herself the center point between them, and guided Jake’s head to her shoulder.

"Rest," she murmured, her fingers threading through his dark hair. "I’ve got you now."

Jake’s resistance crumbled under her touch. With a soft sigh, he nestled against her, his arm still draped protectively across her waist. Bradley watched them with warm eyes, his own exhaustion becoming more evident as he allowed himself to relax.

"You too," Nick told him, extending her other arm in invitation.

Bradley hesitated only briefly before settling against her other side, his head finding the perfect spot on her shoulder. The weight of both men against her was comforting rather than overwhelming, their solid warmth anchoring her in a way she’d never experienced before.

Nick pressed a gentle kiss to each of their foreheads, a tender gesture that felt both new and strangely familiar. "Sleep," she whispered, fingers tracing soothing patterns through their hair. "Let me take care of my boys for a change."

Jake mumbled something against her neck, already drifting off. Bradley lasted a bit longer, his hand still holding hers, but soon his breathing deepened as well. Nick found herself the only one awake, cradled between these two men who had shown her such unwavering tenderness throughout the day.

The baseball game continued on the television, the distant cheers and the announcer’s low commentary creating a soft backdrop. But instead of watching the game, she found herself watching them.

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[translatemunson]

file 004 — Warbird takes the sky

chapter four of death defying acts

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

cw: fem!reader, afab!reader, no descriptions of reader (i'm really trying to keep my descriptions of her and her background to a minimum so i can be inclusive to all people, but let me know if i can improve), no use of y/n, reader has a call sign (i had to pick one, it makes sense for the story), innacuracies about the navy, topgun and army (i did my best guys), this takes places after the events of the movie, drinking, lmk if i missed anything.

On Monday morning, you parked your car at the Naval Air Station North Island a few minutes behind your normal schedule. You grabbed your things from the passenger seat, fixed your hair one last time, and rushed to the Operations building. Everyone got an email last night about a special training exercise the following morning, but not much was attached to the briefing.

So when it was crucial for you to be early, you got stuck in traffic. You texted Bob to ask him to save you a spot at the briefing session — you were not required to attend those, but you felt like it was necessary to get more intel about the Daggers —, and you were running there before you missed any more information.

As you were ready to open the door and try to snuck in quietly when Officer Stewart intercepted you. “Good morning, Officer Hyde. You are expected in the control room.”

“Morning, sir. I thought I was supposed to watch the briefing with everyone else,” you motioned your head to the room.

“It’s just some tactical fighting maneuver exercise, you don’t need to stress over that.” Officer Stewart was very forward, polite and one of the best team leaders in the Intelligence office. He knew everyone’s strong and weak spots, and wasn’t afraid of overruling some orders to have his team working as soon as possible. “The file is on your desk, and I’m counting on you to hand me those reports in real time.”

“Yes, sir.”

You took the stairs to the third floor, passing through the heavy doors to the operation command room. You waved hello to your coworkers, settled your things on your desk and opened the paper folder.

Tactical maneuvers, two flight instructors this time around. In a jet each, they were gonna try to follow and intercept the four US Navy jets in the training path. The small resemblance to the escaping scenario Maverick and Rooster faced at the end of the Uranium mission shouldn’t be overlooked as a coincidence. They were preparing for a still unknown mission, but every single part of the training was necessary.

You looked over the pairings, pretty much the same pilots, except for one small difference. Bradshaw and Seresin were acting as mission captains in each round. So this was also a testing of their leadership skills.

Maverick was one of the assault pilots, but the other one was a blank information in your sheets. Were they getting some admiral or captain in the sky? How this was gonna work after all?

“Permission to take off, pilots.” The flight director announced over the speakers. 

You adjusted your headset over your ears, tuning into the general radio wave. The pilots were deployed one by one, conducting the G-force test and some engine checkings. You wrote down their data, coordinates and estimates on a side sheet. Then you heard Maverick’s voice, followed by a very familiar tone.

“Warbird, ready to take position.” What the hell your father was doing in North Island? Since when he was here?

You held yourself back from using the radio to say hello, but you saw when Office Stewart gave you a warm smile, in a silent “surprise” hanging on his lips. You smiled back.

You knew your father’s potential, being responsible for training over a dozen classes of Top Gun after he retired from the missions. Nowadays, he was laying low and working with the new recruits during the first stages of training, but he was still an exceptional pilot. Who did this? Who convinced your father to fly in training, side by side with one of the pilots he didn’t like?

The who and how shouldn’t be your focus now, since you need to watch how everyone’s gonna perform on training. But you were dying to reach for your phone and text the group chat “That’s how I found out we’re working together for a day?”

Hangman was leading the first session. For one morning only, he was being a good team player and leader. He had Phoenix and Bob as wingmen, and Coyote was leading Payback and Fanboy. They were hitting their marks, which was good, but Maverick and your dad were getting closer. In the mapped valley route, that meant lots of weak spots and not many tricks to save their asses.

You passed your first round of notes to Stewart before they reached the Daggers. You watched closely the monitors, seeing if your father was using any of the tricks he was famous for. But so far, he was following Maverick’s lead, and they were giving the aviators a run for their money.

As the terrain got narrower, Hangman was forced to make some risky decisions. At one point, Payback and Fanboy were shot down. As they reached the target, Coyote had to send the second missile without his laser. You noted down how it was a miss, and then they started the open terrain pursuit. Bob was screaming on the radio about Maverick and your dad’s positions, and Hangman, Phoenix and Coyote were swaying from one side to another, gaining and losing altitude like crazy, trying to survive this part.

“Dagger Two down,” your dad called on the comms. “Engaging with Dagger Three.”

“Copy that, Warbird,” Maverick confirmed.

You watched, mesmerized, when both experienced pilots entered a double formation, going after Coyote. Hangman was trying to move back and form a plan with his last wingman, but they outsmarted them: as your father went after Coyote, Maverick pulled one of his maneuvers and got Hangman right in the middle of his aim.

Everyone in the control room clapped because it was an excellent demonstration of teamwork and experience in the field. While your father didn’t have any confirmed air kills on his resume, he was quite the deceiver and strategist. And Maverick, well, he had his reputation and a name for himself.

They were given a small break for refueling before taking the skies again. You waited on the edge of your chair, already impatient because you wanted to have a few minutes with your dad. But again, you were expected to do a stellar job if you wanted that promotion.

On the second run, now with Rooster as mission captain, they were almost mirroring Hangman’s run. Bradshaw was more vocal on the comms, giving out instructions to his team. Your dad and Maverick were having a harder time catching up, but you were quick to notice how Rooster was losing his momentum as they approached the target.

Fanboy and Payback were the first to go down, but they managed to give Coyote the aim for his shot. They succeeded in destroying the target, now they were up for a run. Their maps showed the expected terrain, and they were on their own to plan for their escape.

“Any eyes on them?” As Bradshaw asked, you took a look at the radars.

Warbird and Maverick somehow found a blind spot on Rooster’s formation and intercepted them not a few seconds later. The arrows in the screen started to dance around each other, the formation long forgotten.

Coyote and Phoenix were shot down basically at the same time. Rooster was a few miles ahead, and when your dad said “I’ll get him” on the comms, you knew things were gonna get good.

Bradshaw was going low, rapidly reaching the hard deck. Your dad had him cornered in no time, locking his aim as the other pilot tried to go up and save himself from imminent failure. You whispered an excited “yes!” when they confirmed the kill. All pilots were commanded to land and take a break before the debrief.

Officer Stewart only had a second before you were out of the room and making your way to the hangar. You were out on the tarmac in a matter of minutes, just waiting for your father to jump off the jet and explain himself. And the looks you got from your colleagues were filled with questions that were promptly answered when you said “Dad! Why didn’t you give me a call?”

“Your mom said it would be better if it was a surprise,” he explained, opening his arms and giving you a nice hug. “I was hoping to hear your voice over the comms today.”

“Not today, but maybe next time. Oh, I missed you so much.” You stayed there for as long as possible, already used to the port flight aura you dad carried around.

Most people said your looks and personality were a fair mix of your parents. Your temper was something you inherited from your dad, but the sweet smile and warm eyes were your mom’s biggest traits. Looking at pictures from when they were younger, if it wasn’t from the passage of time, you would look like a perfect conjunction of their younger versions. Dressed in a Navy uniform, you used to be called Mini Warbird.

“Missed you too, birdie.” For your father, you would always be an aviator. “So, are you joining us for the debrief later?”

“I think so,” you smiled. “You did an amazing job today.”

“You sure? I feel a little rusty.” He shook his shoulders, like taking the dust off of them. “Alright, but did I look cool on your screens?”

“You looked like you never stopped flying dangerous missions. I know an experienced pilot when I see one,” you admitted.

As you said those words, Bradshaw walked by. And his expression was far from friendly: his sharp eyes were focused on your father; his face red and sweaty because of the exercise; his hands gripping the helmet like he was holding himself back. 

Your father followed your attention, and said “Nice work, Lieutenant Bradshaw.” But the pilot just walked by.

“Well, dinner’s on me,” your dad said. “Meet you at the debrief?”

“Will do.”

+++

“Now that we are not on the clock, and your mom is not around to use her psychologist tactics, tell me: how have you been?” Your dad asked as he settled two beer bottles at your table.

You drove him to the Hard Deck as soon as you were both done for the day. His stay was only for the training, his ticket back to his base booked for the following morning. Which was such a shame, you were really hoping you could spend more than just a few hours together.

“I’m ok, I guess. A lot of work, new people, new information, new squad. And a ton of pressure to perform well without causing unnecessary friction.”

“Any trouble with the captain?” Your mother wasn’t there, but your dad was more than prepared to poke the sensitive topics.

“Believe me or not, no. I was part of last week’s debrief, and I was surprised when he asked me for my insights and complimented my notes.” You looked around, making sure there wasn’t any coworker hanging around your booth. “People are very chill around here. Well, not everyone.”

“Is that Hangman guy being an ass to you as he is to his colleagues?”

“No, actually Bagman is all bark, no bites when he learns your job pretty much could help him get the mission captain position.” In a world full of politics and power games, you knew how to move around the board. And that didn’t mean not having some fun while there.

“So who are you talking about?”

“You know, the bird” you took a sip of your beer. “I know I’m the outsider writing down all of their mistakes and giving those out to the captains and admirals, but I’m not here to be judge and jury. So ever since day one, he’s acting like I am the enemy.”

“He’s been very temperamental since his father died.” Sometimes you would forget that your father was training and flying side by side with Maverick, Goose and those Top Gun pilots. You were born months later after Goose’s death, too young to remember the faces, and your family was transferred when you were two. “The kid is an excellent pilot, just a bit—”

“Arrogant? Doesn’t like to take feedback even when the person on the other side of the radio is trying to help? Yes, I can agree.” You rolled your eyes.

“Someone’s bitter.”

“I really wished Maverick was the pain in the ass you and mom told me, because I’ve dealt with aviators like him before, instructors even. Bradshaw is even worse than that one admiral in Virginia.”

For a second, you thought your dad’s silence was him trying to find arguments to defend Bradshaw — even if that, before all of this, he wasn’t nice to Maverick or anyone that was close to the reckless pilot. You noticed how, on the drive there, he was laying all the compliments to Rooster’s sense of leadership, and praising Hangman’s flight skills.

“Don’t even start,” you interjected. “I don’t wanna hear you saying he is a troubled kid, and he is the way he is because Maverick is his godfather or whatever.”

“I won’t. But we had this argument before: just because numbers and readings are clear to you, flying is more of an instinct than something you can learn.” His serious tone, reserved to students or when you were losing your temper. “Once adrenaline kicks in, you know we are not the most reasonable people out there.”

“I never pointed those things out loud. I check the readings, I give them to the chief, and my work is done.”

“I know what you do in those rooms, kid. What I’m saying is sometimes we know what we are doing, even though the odds are against us. So point out if someone is slow, or if their success rate is not as sharp as it should be, but don’t act like this is the only variable in risk during training.”

“Can we move on? Thank you very much.” At your core, you know your father is right. But, in your mind, if a pilot can’t complete a mission training successfully, it’s your job to point that out. Otherwise, they will fail on the field.

Much to his dismay, your father started talking about his new flight students. It was that part of the class everyone wanted a call sign to put over their last names. You knew what yours meant, but just didn’t remember who gave it to you. Maybe it was one of your colleagues, maybe one of the captains, perhaps Bob would remember.

For the longest time, you thought everyone would just call you Birdie or anything related to your dad’s call sign. And they did, then your call sign was Crow for exactly ten days before a training session. From them on, you were referred to as Hyde.

Had a nice side, but once they did you wrong, you showed a side that everyone would be afraid to fly closely to.

You were going to the bar to close out your tab when you heard familiar voices. The Dagger squad walked to the Hard Deck like they owned the place. You thanked Penny, pointed to the exit with your head to your dad — to avoid walking back to your table and crossing paths with Bradshaw and his friends —, and walked to the parking lot like you were on a mission.

Bob called your name, you just waved a “hello”. Hangman offered to buy you a beer, you pointed to the door and mouthed a “sorry”. Nat recognized your father moving the same direction and just smiled. You reached the door, and you slammed into someone’s chest and then stumbled backwards, almost falling. But they held your arm, and you were safe.

“Officer.” Bradshaw’s voice made your instinct kick back, and you took your arm away.

“Lieutenant,” you said, harshly. You don’t give him another look as you walk out of the Hard Deck and take your father to his hotel. Damn, how you wished he could stay with you.

a/n: the build up is building up, and i wanna say chapter 5 is one of my favorites! fingers crossed i can finish it faster this time around

[dunno-u-decide]

Wild Kratts x Pokemon Headcannons

Feel free to use these if you wanna write fics.

If the Wild Kratts were from the Pokemon world:

The Wild Kratts are a team of traveling Pokemon rangers and researchers. Martin and Chris are the primary rangers and field researchers, Aviva and Koki are the engineers and data analysts, and Jimmy pilots their ship and is the primary cook and social media handler.

All of them can use a capture styler to some degree, even Jimmy. Martin and Chris are the best at using them because they do most of the field work, then Aviva and Koki, then Jimmy.

All of them train Pokemon. Martin is a water specialist, Chris is a grass specialist, Aviva is a fairy specialist (but likes all cute Pokemon), Koki is an Eeveelution trainer (and has both forms of Ninetales), and Jimmy has no preference.

Jimmy is the only member of the team to have completed a league run, being Unova. Going by the anime setting, he got to the top 4 in the conference. Going by the game setting, he managed to beat Grimsley and came close to beating Marshal.

From best to worst in terms of battling skill, Jimmy is the best, then Martin, Chris, Aviva, and Koki.

With the exception of Aviva, everyone is originally from Unova. Aviva is originally from Paldea.

The Tortuga HQ is modeled after Drednaw and is called the Drednaw HQ.

When they run into Wild Kratts Kids, they give them tips on raising and training Pokemon and helping and approaching wild Pokemon.

If the Wild Kratts were sent to the Pokemon world:

They'd all instantly go crazy over the plethora of Pokemon to study. Their own insights on their animals may also help researchers and trainers.

They constantly compare Pokemon with animals.

Out of curiosity, one of the bros tries to activate a creature power suit using a Pokemon that is similar to the animal genetically, like activating zebra power with a Blitzle or Zebstrika. It works, but the resulting suit looks a mix of the animal and the Pokemon and it only has the animal's abilities. The suit also malfunctions, causing the brother who activated the suit to speak using puns on the Pokemon's name and it can't be deactivated until Aviva fixes it. The suit, however, does allow the brother to understand Pokemon speech.

Aviva and Koki soak up the Pokemon world's tech like a sponge. It takes a long time before Aviva is able to create a Pokemon power disc.

A Pokemon power disc for a Pokemon that can evolve can switch between forms.

Jimmy easily takes to learning about Pokemon battling thanks to his video game skills.

Villain headcannons, most can be used in either of the above scenarios:

Zach steals Pokemon from the wild and uses them to power his robots. If Zach was from the Pokemon world, he'd sell his robots to poachers. After he's defeated, the Pokemon he captures are released.

Donita raids wild Pokemon for materials for her luxury lines, like Clamperl pearls and Flabebe flowers. After she's defeated, the Pokemon she captures are released and the stuff she steals are returned or compensated for if possible.

Gourmand hunts wild Pokemon to use as ingredients. After he's defeated, the Pokemon he captures are released.

Pre-redemption, Paisley tries destroying nature to build facilities. Post-redemption, she takes inspiration from nature to build in a way to protect it.

If the villains were sent to the Pokemon world, they'd initially be bewildered with how often they get thwarted by people other than the Wild Kratts because normal trainers would pick fights with them when they get up to their schemes.

Edit: I forgot the most important headcannon: Martin nicknames every wild Pokemon they get close to, and those Pokemon recognize him and the other Wild Kratts whenever they run into each other.

[adventuringblind]

Unrequited Understanding

Norlestappen x Reader

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort

Summary: Her father comes back into her life as a replacement race engineer. Now she can't escape him and his voice when she does the one thing she thought he couldn't touch.

Warnings: eating disorder, abuse, past child abuse, sef harm, suicide attempt

Notes: for @ashiekins, I hope you like it! I'M SORRY FOR THE ENDING I COULDN'T HELP MYSELF!

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

January

The new year had never felt so sweet. Her victory with Max and Redbull had been a dream. Max taking another championship, had the entire team walking on cloud nine.

She spent new years with her boys. It's tradition at this point to messily kiss all together as the new year comes around.

They'd done so much for her. She's come so far in her journey.

"What are you thinking about, Love?" Neither her nor Lando could sleep. Most nights, they end up talking to get the heavy thoughts to lessen a bit. It's why they get one half of the bed to themselves.

"How nice it feels to know I'm still here and loved." She rests her head on Lando's chest, the steady rythme of his heart lulling her into a restful state.

"Life wouldn't be the same without you." He kisses the top of her head as her mind finally gives into sleep.

February

Her and Max sit together at the large conference table. The factory is preparing for the new season. Energy is running high, and she can feel it crackling in the atmosphere.

Christian talks about how excited he is for the new season. 2023 is going to be theirs to dominate. Adrian has been working tirelessly to give them a title worthy car.

"We have had to make some last-minute changes to the team, unfortunately." Christian makes eye contact with her, and the good feeling she had dissolves. "Your race engineer has fallen terminally ill and is being hospitalized. The good news is we've found a last-minute replacement."

The door opens, and she feels the air leave her lungs. Her body shakes in fear of the man who takes confident strides to his chair.

Christian introduces them, clearly not understanding that they know each other very well. The man is her father, after all.

She has her mother's last name. Intent on separating herself from him entirely. He'd been doing Indie car for years. She never thought he'd make the switch after how they left things.

Max shoots her a concerned look, but she shakes it off. None of the boys had ever seen what her father looks like. They don't know she changed her last name.

She has no intention of ruining a good season because of her petty emotions. So, she says nothing.

March

It's not as bad as she thought it would be. They don't interact much aside from talking about data and while she's in the car.

The underhanded comments make her thoughts reel. The constant questioning of her skill while she's driving makes her think she's crazy. Her father is too good at making it look like a joke. People laugh with him, not understanding he means what he says.

He talks over her, cuts her off, bosses her around like she's still a child. She shrinks in on herself every time he cones around.

Stay silent and listen. That's what got her through her childhood. Just don't make him angry.

He lashes out when he's angry.

Charles is there when a nightmare causes her to be sick. A memory of her childhood that haunts her still.

The Monegasque holds her hair up and rubs her back as she sobs. He makes her a warm drink and holds her, letting her wet tears soak into his shirt.

"Do you want to talk about it, mon chéri?" He whispers gently against her forehead.

She inhales, breath catching in her throat as she does. "My dad, he - well - he used to say I'd never be anything. I sometimes dream about the memory."

"Your father and Jos can fuck off." Charles cups her face with his hands. "You are amazing. Whatever he told you is a lie. You've proven yourself to the world. Your younger self can rest knowing she got you here, that you are safe and loved and enough."

April

It's getting worse by the day. She's not sure where her father got the idea that he could order her around like she's still five and karting. It's getting annoying and ridiculous.

He's taken to snatching any food out of her hand and tossing it away into the nearest bin. What a waste. He could've eaten it himself.

He keeps telling her the car is too heavy. The data doesn't show that, but whatever. Her food being taken from her like when she was young was not how she expected the season to go. She takes to not eating because it's easier than fighting with him.

Her physio keeps asking her about why her weight seems to be plummeting recently. Even trying to get it back on her with altered meal plans. The concerns get brought up later in a meeting with Christian. The severity of her condition being made apparent.

Max watches her sob over a salad. She can tell he wants to push, asked what is causing the relapse. Understand where her head is at.

He hands her a water bottle and waits until she drinks the entire thing. "It's okay to struggle, but please don't shut us out. You don't have to do this alone, alright?"

She doesn't respond, simply collapses into his patient arms.

May

Lando and Charles happened to be passing by at the worst time. The Redbull garage still buzzing with the excitement of Max's podium and her mediocre result compared.

They saw her race engineer laying into her about every mistake. No other staff around to hear the conversation. Her head hung in shame as he pointed out every flaw.

Charles interrupts with such ease. He says her PR officer was looking for her earlier. It gets her to excuse herself from the conversation, leaving the two boys with her engineer.

"Mind your own business next time," scoffs the older man. He leaves the younger two confused.

Charles takes in Lando's mildly anxious body movements. "Something isn't right, Charles. She had that same look from when we were rookies."

Charles hums in agreement. "We'll have to wait for her to come to us for now."

June

The underhanded comments are getting progressively worse. People have started noticing that something is off about her race engineer and his behavior towards her.

Meetings are difficult and the team is walking on eggshells. Max looks ready to explode and has been ripping her father to pieces after every comment. He gets in trouble, so she asks him to stop.

She doesn't mind. Her whole life has been taking this kind of behavior from him. Max knows better than anyone that it's best to respect that kind of ask.

"I'm here if things ever get to a point where you want it to stop. I will always be here for you."

July

Her wight combined with her self-harming habits are making it harder to drive. Somewhere in her head she knows she can't continue like this. The car no longer works with her.

Christian keeps pulling her into his office and asking her about where she's at. Warning her the if she continues down this road, she won't be able to drive. That he'll be forced to find a replacement.

She cries as the boys hold her. She tells them she's not sure if she can do it anymore, that she's not cut out for this sport. They comfort and reassure her that's a lie.

Her thoughts remain stuck on being a burden to them. She gets better just to fall once more into her old habits. They have careers and goals that would be easier to achieve without her around.

Maybe her father is right about her after all.

August

The summer break brings them a much-needed reprieve from the fast-paced world they live in. She gets to spend time away from the incessant voice of the man she hates. Her boys occupying her mind instead.

There is a finality about this that she can't explain. Like things can only get better from here on out. That something in her future is going to bring her the one thing she's looking for.

Swimming in the ocean and eating what they want. They laugh and joke like nothing has changed. It's the first time in months that she feels normal.

This is how things should be. The smile on her face is genuine and the boys can all tell.

September

The cuts line her skin in an unorganized fashion. Angry, red, and bleeding. Her race had been ended early due to a collision. She'd been collateral damage; it wasn't her fault.

The media didn't see it that way. Her father definitely had no mercy when he mercilessly explained how she will never be good enough as a driver.

Hidden away in her drivers' room now, watching the blood pour from her skin. The boys know, they've seen the fresh lines. They are trying to find a way to get her to stop, but these feeling are fighting back harder than ever before. She's not sure how to fight them anymore.

Disappearing seems like the best option. The only way she'll be able to escape the dark thoughts swirling in her head. The one place her father won't be able to touch her anymore will be in her death.

She moans as the blade digs deeper. The ecstasy that accompanies addiction is a feeling she will always crave. Sick satisfaction bubbles in her throat and pour out on her eyes as red stains the floor.

This wasn't her plan, but it's okay. The pain makes all her thoughts go away. Lessens the weight on her chest. Forces her mind to focus on something else.

Everything is spinning and then it goes dark.

Warm hands and comforting words. That's all she's ever wanted.

October

The boys can see how sick she is. Max won't let her be alone in the garage. Not after she almost died.

Her physio is with her when none of the boys are. They keep asking her questions that she won't give answers to.

It's not until an altercation with her father is finally caught. He's condemning her over the radio while she's driving. They'd had an argument earlier about how she should be taking turn three.

The public execution is miserable. Still, she puts her head down and drives.

The second-place trophy has never felt heavier. It drags her arms downwards as she heads to the garage with Max. He doesn't know about what happened yet and she hopes it stays that way. She screams as she puts it away in her room.

She avoids her father as much as possible on the way to the press conference. The glimpse she does get of him leaves a bitter taste in her mouth. Christian looks angry as he presses a finger into her father's chest.

She's zoned out majority of the conference. Until A journalist with a soft voice is asking about her feelings towards her race engineer.

"It's just how things are sometimes. I wasn't listening to instructions, and he was frustrated. It happens." She shrugs it off like this is the most normal everyday occurrence. Which, in her defense, it kind of is.

Every media outlet seems to want to know more about it. Her emotions are struggling to remain contained. the inevitable sobs escape after a particularly worded question about whether his actions could be considered abuse or not.

She breaks, collapsing in the middle of the media pen. Her boys are there blocking the view of the cameras as her body fails to move.

They know now what has been happening. Her secret is out there for everyone to see.

November

Her father is fired from the team with immediate effect. Christian apologizes relentlessly for not knowing and not seeing it sooner.

The media is asked to refrain from asking about the incident and anything regarding her past race engineer. They respect it, probably wanting to avoid another meltdown in the middle of an interview.

Max, Lando and Charles are with her through every step of the way. They encourage her to talk to them and she does. It feels nice not having to hold in her family secrets.

They want to help her, and she wants to be helped.

Her race engineer for the end of the season ends up taking the job for next year. He's kind and keeps his voice calm. Her last few drives amaze everyone.

The top step of the podium has never felt so good. She didn't need to prove herself to anyone, but the confidence it brings her is hard to deny.

Closure feels even better.

December

Her therapist is proud of her for opening up to the boys more. They don't push her to spill everything, but they encourage her when she does.

The end of the year pulls them closer together. After everything that happened, she wasn't sure she was going to see 2024 come around. She's glad she does though.

She fought to the end. She made it to her peace. A place where her father can't touch.

Warm hands and gentle words for all of eternity.

January... Again

Three boys stand in front of a grave. Her favorite flowers in hand. The silence stretches between them. None of them know how to proceed.

The memory of finding her on the floor replays in Max's head. He should've known to find her right after the race. That cold September afternoon in Zandvoort. The day she bled out for one final time.

Charles and Lando assure Max it's not his fault. IT hadn't been her plan. There was no note, not even a warning sign aside from her mental health declining.

Her father, who they now know was the catalyst for her relapse, is in jail. Christian made sure to get him put away so the boys wouldn't have to worry about it.

The other drivers came to the funeral. The journalists respect their wishes not to speak on the matter. They need to heal before they can even think about trying to explain how all three of them had taken time off.

The FIA pushed the races back since Redbull needed to sort things out. The memorial on the track has been visited by everyone on the team.

They tried so hard. They wanted her to stay. They can only hope that she found what she needed in whatever lies beyond this life.

[palmtreepalmtree]

When I read the news, I swear sometimes I'm either not understanding something really important, or this whole fucking thing is a lie.

Okay, so top of the article says that Apple will open "a new manufacturing factory in Texas over the next four years."

The article then reports this in the third paragraph:

The iPhone maker’s announcement underscores how tech giants are trying to forge a closer relationship with President Trump as his second administration imposes new tariffs on China — where Apple manufactures its products — and shapes policies on artificial intelligence.

Okay...

Then two more paragraphs down from that, after more discussion of the impact of tariffs on China and meeting with T at the WH, it says, "workers at the factory in Texas will produce servers for Apple Intelligence."

...okay... so they're not actually moving any manufacturing of their products to the United States. They're manufacturing servers for their new AI product.

Then it says this:

The 20,000 new jobs will mostly focus on research and development, silicon engineering, AI and machine learning, the Cupertino, Calif., company said.

So... they're not manufacturing jobs?

Then it says that Apple will expand in other states as well:

Those expansion plans include investments in data centers, its facilities and skills development for students and workers. At a manufacturing facility in Arizona, Apple said, it will spend heavily to produce advanced silicon that is used in its devices. In Detroit, the company said, it’s opening a manufacturing academy that will offer free courses online and in person. Apple engineers will team up with university experts to help small and medium-sized businesses implement AI and manufacturing methods.

So... the only reference to actually manufacturing an item or product is in Arizona where they're manufacturing "advanced silicon." Everything else is data centers, training centers, and attempts to get other businesses to implement its AI.

To be clear, iPhones, computers, airpods, and all the other ubiquitous Apple devices will continue to be manufactured outside of the United States. No movement there, despite the tariffs. So why this headline? Why does this article spend three paragraphs mentioning the tariffs?

On the one hand, shame on me for still subscribing to the LA Times and reading this regurgitated press release posing as an article. On the other hand, is it me...? Like... wtf? What am I not getting here?

I mean, I'm not saying that research and engineering jobs are somehow less valuable than manufacturing jobs, I'm just saying we are constantly being sold a total lie about companies making a manufacturing investment in the United States. It's all just AI data centers. That's it. That does not require a significant number of skilled manufacturing workers. It's just going to be empty towns. Empty towns with huge warehouses.

I just think the whole article is so disingenuous. I'm embarrassed that this stands for journalism, I'm embarrassed thinking about the people who will read the headline and think 'Oh, nice!' Especially to the extent that it implies directly states that the tariffs are good or successful for AMERICAN WORKERS. All of this was re-printed by the LAT with no questioning or skepticism or additional clarity added.

I'm just so fucking over it.

[idhren]

March 1, 2025

A letter to the American People:

For over 11 years, 18F has been proudly serving you to make government technology work better. We are non-partisan civil servants. 18F has worked on hundreds of projects, all designed to make government technology not just efficient but effective, and to save money for American taxpayers.

However, all employees at 18F – a group that the Trump Administration GSA Technology Transformation Services Director called "the gold standard" of civic tech – were terminated today at midnight ET.

18F was doing exactly the type of work that DOGE claims to want – yet we were eliminated.

When former Tesla engineer Thomas Shedd took the position of TTS director and met with TTS including 18F on February 3, 2025, he acknowledged that the group is the “gold standard” of civic technologists and that “you guys have been doing this far longer than I’ve been even aware that your group exists.” He repeatedly emphasized the importance of the work, and the value of the talent that the teams bring to government.

Despite that skill and knowledge, at midnight ET on March 1, the entirety of 18F received notice that our positions had been eliminated.

The letter said that 18F "has been identified as part of this phase of GSA’s Reduction in Force (RIF) as non-critical”.

"This decision was made with explicit direction from the top levels of leadership within both the Administration and GSA," Shedd said in an email shortly after we were given notice.

This was a surprise to all 18F staff and our agency partners. Just yesterday we were working on important projects, including improving access to weather data with NOAA, making it easier and faster to get a passport with the Department of State, supporting free tax filing with the IRS, and other critical projects with organizations at the federal and state levels.

All 18F's support on that work has now abruptly come to a halt. Since the entire staff was also placed on administrative leave, we have been locked out of our computers, and have no chance to assist in an orderly transition in our work. We don’t even have access to our personal employment data. We’re supposed to return our equipment, but can’t use our email to find out how or where.

Dismantling 18F follows the gutting of the original US Digital Service. These cuts are just the most recent in a series of a sledgehammer approach to the critical US teams supporting IT infrastructure.

Before today’s RIF, DOGE members and GSA political appointees demanded and took access to IT systems that hold sensitive information. They ignored security precautions. Some who pushed back on this questionable behavior resigned rather than grant access. Others were met with reprisals like being booted from work communication channels.

We’re not done yet.

We’re still absorbing what has happened. We’re wrestling with what it will mean for ourselves and our families, as well as the impact on our partners and the American people.

But we came to the government to fix things. And we’re not done with this work yet.

More to come.

[chaoticlandworlder]

Legit so disgusting how so many ppl are jumping at the chance to criticise Max. In the past few days, I've seen so many social media comments calling him names like 'brat', 'manchild', 'immature' etc. + belittling his racing skills.

So many ppl are also completely spinning their own narrative, acting as if Max is the only driver to ever be heated up during a high-adrenaline race. According to them, Schumi, Senna, Lewis etc. have never lost their cool and always take the blame for every single incident. (Note: this is NOT a hate post ok- any driver examples I use is just to show the hypocrisy of these ppl. I mentioned these drivers cuz it's based off genuine comments I saw.)

First of all, Max had every reason to be upset during the race. The major Hungary updates RBR had been hinting at for weeks underwhelmed (don't give me the 'it's still fast anyway'- this is F1. Every driver and team expects their car to be the fastest, not just fast. If you don't understand that, you don't get the point of F1- an engineering competition. Also RBR has been struggling with the same kerbs issue since 2022.), with Max struggling with various issues during the race.

Additionally, the strategy was not great; Max gave the 1st pitstop decision a pass, but then they repeated it for the 2nd pitstop. RBR was hoping that the tyre delta would salvage the race but c'mon, Christian Horner admitted after the race that they got the data wrong and miscalculated how fast they needed to gap the others cars per lap to overtake. From Max's pov, RBR repeated the mistake of the 1st pitstop, allowing him to be undercut again, by both Lewis and Charles, dropping him back to 5th when he started 3rd, on a track known to be hard to overtake. Furthermore, this race was more a race of undercutting than actual on-track overtakes; one prominent example that showed the power of the undercut in this race was Lando, who was stuck behind Oscar for the vast majority of the race. Yet once they undercut Oscar, Lando ended up 3s+ ahead of Oscar, with the gap increasing to ~5s+ as the laps went on, with Oscar unable to catch up. To make matters worse, Max had told the team that undercutting was impt BEFORE the race. Finally, I love GP (Max's race engineer) but honestly they were just antagonising each other during the race. The most obvious example was the sarcastic remark of 'some gentle introduction' after Max did a fast outlap so that he could catch Charles and Lewis, which just made Max even more frustrated. After which, there was literally radio silence for 15 mins, no communication of modes, gaps etc. Max himself mentioned after the race that it did not help that instead of being a calming presence, they (presumably RBR, including GP) did not listen to him and even argued with him. So this mixture of the team not listening to him, repeating the same mistake twice, underwhelming upgrades and poor communication on the radio contributed to Max frustrations in the car. (Oh but according to crofty (sky sports) it's cuz Max did not get his beauty sleep despite Max having followed his standard sleep schedule. Because sleep outranks good strategy and the best car in F1. 🤡 Kids these days and their simracing.)

Could Max have been more polite? Ideally, ig. But GP too was confrontational when he should have been trying to resolve the issues with Max. Was Max wrong in terms of calling out the strat? No. Also, it's so easy for ppl to judge, lazing on their couch. This is a high adrenaline sport for goodness sake, with millions of dollars on the line and millions of people watching their every move. Randos get pissed off at a slow moving vehicle on a normal road; imagine how it would be to be a racing driver going at ~200mph, with the expectations of the team, fans etc. weighing down on you.

Some are arguing that Red Bull generally does well so Max has no right to be upset. Lol. Idk how ppl don't get it into their heads that this is a SPORT. In every sport, any top performing athelete and team knows that every single match/race/point etc matters. You're not there to say "Oh we've won in the past so let's just throw away some games". You're always there to deliver your best. With this kinda logic, Lewis should also have no right to be upset/disappointed with Mercedes cuz didn't they deliver him a championship winning car for years? Idk lmao this particular line of logic is so weird.

I've also seen so many people saying things along the lines of "Max always complains", "Max can't win without the car"- a really weird one considering one only has to look at the recent races to debunk that, "Max blames everything on the team" etc. Be so fr literally every driver 'complains'. A notable case was Austria 2023, where Toto had to come on the race to tell Lewis to 'just drive the car' because he kept going on about it in multiple races last year. Most of the time they're just giving feedback. When they're genuinely 'complaining', it's often cuz they've been screwed over by their own team. See some cases just in this race alone: Alex on the indecisive tyre choice by Williams, Daniel on the screwed up strat by by VCARB. Max wasn't even wrong about the strat. The comment that 'Max blames everything on the team/ When everything goes well it's him, when it doesn't it's the team' is so laughable because if there is one driver on the grid that is consistent in thanking his team and rarely himself, it's Max. You literally just have to see the previous race, Silverstone 2024 where he could've easily said him making all the right calls to pit was essential to getting P2 in the end. Instead, he gave the credit to the team. He's also quick to apologise when he's in the wrong. See Spa quali 2023 after his outburst in Q2. Or when he bought ice cream for GP a few years back to apologise. Also idk where ppl get the idea Max treats his team like shit? Time and time again, people who worked with him have mentioned how they love working with him. For this particular weekend, he literally treated the team to dinner the night before the race but these ppl will never talk about that. What's said on the radio is in the heat of the moment, which ALL the drivers have done. And Max wasn't wrong either; maybe ideally he would have conveyed it nicer, but again, they're all pumped up on adrenaline.

As for the incident, it wasn't even that bad? It looked bad cuz the wheels touched, making Max's car fly up + cuz it was btwn Max and Lewis, certain 'fans' immediately jumped into their hate frenzy. Idk I find it so weird that people keep harping on about it when Lewis said immediately after the race that it was a racing incident. (Those clowns trying to liken Max to Alonso in Austria 2024 need to rewatch the collisions instead of looking at static pictures is all I can say lol cuz Alonso's was straight up a T-bone while Max-Lewis was a wheel bang.) And anyway, ALL drivers get into incidents no matter their accomplishments (Lewis in Monza 2023, Charles hitting Lando in fp this year, Carlos-Oscar in Miami 2024 etc.). The narrative that Max gets into incidents more than the other drivers is just untrue. In fact, this brings me to my next point. The moment Max is half of any incident, regardless of whether he is at fault, so many scumbags immediately completely trash him like a bunch of rabid dogs. For example, Max-George last year at Las Vegas 2023, where Max was not at fault at ALL; George even admitted he wasn't looking in his mirrors. Or Lap 1 Turn 1 of that same race, where ppl to this day are shitting on Max for 'pushing' Charles off-track- when there was literally an oil spill on his grid spot before the race, making that side slippery despite efforts to clean it up, with others like Alonso and Carlos spinning at the same point Max 'pushed' Charles. His onboard then even showed he tried to steer in but the car didn't budge. Besides, he got a penalty that slowed him down a lot (when Lap 1 Turn 1 incidents don't usually get a penalty- idk how ppl can think the FIA favours him lmfao- and no matter what the haters who prob didn't even watch the race said; serving the penalty in the pitstop dropped Max much further back than just swapping positions would have) AND he apologised to Charles right after the race (but noooo he never takes the blame).

The hate ppl have for Max (and tbh, some other drivers) is honestly quite alarming and weird. Like, these grownass ppl are hating on a 26 year old at the top of his game lol. It doesn't help that the media (especially the British media) feeds, if not started, this hatred frenzy. Just see Austria this year, where the media and 'fans' completely blew the incident between Max and Lando out of the water, only for multiple current and ex F1 drivers to call them out on their bs lmao. Again, for Austria 2024, Lando and Max spoke after the race too. But it doesn't fit their narrative so these ppl will never bother to mention this.

Slight tangent but for ppl who try to justify it by saying 'oh it's how it is cuz Max is dominating'- I understand where yall are coming from (see Seb 2013 lol), but the hatred for Max is particulary overwhelming because there are much more fans now, mainly due to DTS and consequently, F1 becoming popular/more popular on social media platforms like TikTok, Twitter etc. As such, Max is arguably facing higher levels of vitrol, since DTS didn't exactly favour him (understatement of the year lol) and many fans who 'watch' F1 through social media just jump on the hate bandwagon without actually watching races/fact-checking. This is worsened by how the media (mainly the Brit media) jumps at every opportunity to put Max down. Sky Sports in particular, being the main broadcast for most fans, often feeds this hate (esp if David Croft or Ted Kravitz is speaking). Finally, all this is only worsened by how social media allows this hate to circulate much more quickly and widely.

lol sry for the rant but gosh it gets tiring seeing the toxicity of so many F1 'fans'.

[krstseo]

Artificial Intelligence is revolutionizing industries, creating vast career opportunities. At KRCT, we equip students with essential AI skills like machine learning, deep learning, and data analytics.

[witchygagirlwrites]

Meet the Ranger Team

@desimarie12 wanted a meet the team of who Jay, Mouse and Fireball served with in the Consider Me Gone verse

•Jay Halstead•

We all know Mr Halstead. When he joined the Rangers he was just looking for some sort of direction. Didn't realize he was going to end up falling for not only one but two members of his unit. Picked up the sniper skills he shows in the CPD watching over his unit while they did stupid shit.

•Greg "Mouse" Gerwitz•

Mouse. When he isn't hacking into encrypted data all over the world for the united armed forces he's disabling explosives and just genuinely keeping the unit on their toes. Never thought he'd end up falling for his best friend so falling for the medic of their unit as well was really a shock.

•Fireball•

Fireball. The Medic of this unit that hits the ground running. She feels like she doesn't quite belong at first but bonds quickly to her team and becomes protective over them all. Slides into the middle of a firefight without a second thought for the wounded. One of the top medics assigned to the Rangers. Didn't mean to fall for two of her soldiers and yet she came home knowing she'd never walk away from the two of them.

•Athena Kormos•

Athena or Thena. Third generation Ranger. Was the only woman until Fireball showed up, thankfully she was assigned to a unit of men that didn't look at her gender, they looked at the fact that she could handle herself and have their backs. Unofficial wrangler of the unit, tries to keep them from doing stupid shit whenever possible.

•Marco Reyes•

Marco. If there was someone on the team assigned to keep everyone's spirits up? It's Marco. This man can always read the mood of his team and know what they need to either chill them out or make them laugh. Guards the team's sides when their boots are on the ground and they're kicking in doors.

•Aleks Collins•

Aleks Collins or Collins as they call him most of the time. The squad leader of this crew. He's the one assigning nicknames but it's all in good fun and honestly most of them fit well enough they end up sticking (Fireball & Mouse) Bitches about his team but wouldn't have another one. Can fix damn near anything with an engine.

[formulahs]

like maybe he wont be abysmally quicker in relation to his pace now, but he can learn how to handle the car in ways that cut tenths from his lap times and do it consistently, and that is effectively being faster

^^hard agree with this. and since your anon mentioned carlos i think he's a good example of a driver to look at who doesn't have absolute top pace but still has enough pace combined with other developed skills to keep it relatively close to king of quali charles - for example this year the symmetric percent difference in their quali pace was only 0.008%, meaning charles was on average only 0.008% faster over the course of the season, which was also the smallest gap in pace between teammate pairs (source: https://f1pace.com/p/2024-f1-season-quali-performance-and-trends/2024_rounds_1_24_symm_delta.webp).

and while i'm sure being teammates with lando (even though he was in the first years of his career then - people were talking about lando's pace from the beginning) and charles, two of the best qualifiers on the grid, and having their data has certainly helped especially when we know how technical-minded and data-driven carlos is (carlos even joked this year that he was going to miss having access to charles' data), i think it's worth noting that some of his biggest strengths seem to be on the technical side of things that help him compensate for gaps in pace.

at one point way back in 22 charles was asked what he thought carlos' biggest strength over him was and charles talked about how good carlos is at setting up the car and finding the optimum set up track to track. last year, charles also said in the monza 23 post-quali interviews that he had been struggling a little on friday, but then when he copied carlos' set up, the car worked much better and he was able to find more pace. more recently, ricky, carlos' ferrari race engineer (also of "ricky, which inter is this?" fame lol), talked about how the engineers will often make blind changes to the car, and carlos is always able to tell what changes they made because he's so sensitive to the car and its set up (and ricky also said it reminded him a little of seb :') <3).

so while i think carlos has always been kind of data-obsessed and interested in the technical side of things more so than the average driver (i mean. that boy looooves his data lol), these are still the types of skills that can be developed and improved to make a driver effectively faster, just as you said. and we've seen how fast carlos can be on his weekend!! i'm still so impressed that in mexico carlos was 3 tenths up on charles (and 2 tenths faster than max in q2 but you know that red bull was all over the place, so that comp is less meaningful). and to be fair to charles he had less independent run time (i think half an hour less?) than carlos that weekend with the weird pirelli test session, but charles has still outqualified carlos even when he's had less fp run time before (recent example is baku this year when charles had that small crash on friday. though baku is maybe not a great example because we all know how excellent charles is around there - i thought it was cute when carlos said "luckily on the other side of the garage i have probably the fastest man in baku" lol - but it's the first one i can think of off the top of my head).

this got super super long lol i'm so sorry haha!! i just love discussing these kinds of things. and to go back to the original question of oscar and his pace - i think seeing how much improvement he can make this season will be a real indication of what his longer term career trajectory may look like. of course he still has time beyond this year to improve but. my assessment of his future wdc chances would def go down if he pulls a similar h2h stat as this year (lando was up 20 to 4 over oscar in grand prix qualis…). but considering how much oscar improved from his first season to his second, i would expect him to be able to continue improving. anyway this season is going to be sooo interesting for so many reasons!!!!

omg i love how informative this is, thank you for this! apart from the insight on how dedicated carlos is (hot), it was such a good breakdown of how data driven drivers can get faster esp if they’re pushed to do so by a competitive teammate, which oscar has, and if they’re competing for wins, which oscar will probably be as well. i fully agree that his chances of winning a championship in terms of solely his own performance depend a lot on how he’ll improve his quali game and how consistent he’ll be on sunday cuz like okay lando couldnt outperform max in the best car but oscar was often stuck behind like both ferraris sometimes even merc, so he deffo did not take from the car what lando was able to. but yeah lets sit back and observe